Setting Sails for Valinor RPG

[Novnarwen]

Erfalas, Jack's Character


"This is all depending on the war, and the Ring-bearer, perhaps. None of this lay within our power. But we can and will try to do everything we can. This is something we all want, then let's make it together," Tanroth said and sighed.

Erfals understood this, but couldn't believe his ears. The ship wasn't after all their escape, there was by all means no guarantee for them to get on that ship. Erfalas shook his head. "When do you think the war will come upon us?" The Elf asked Tanroth, with a steady voice. Tanroth gazed at his companion, which made Erfalas unsure what Tanroth would answer.

"The Nine have already set out. The Ring-bearer is followed by them. Orcs have been seen. The war has already started, we just don't ...."

*******SWISH****SWHISH*****SWISH***********

Arrows and the hisses from them flying, surrounded the two elves. They stood up instantly, casting themselves into two directions. Erfalas could hear cries from behind. As he got a glimpse of a creature springing quite a few paces away, he knew that these were creatures - or rather Orcs.

"You must go back to the camp, and warn the others. I'll try to hold them back for a while" Tanroth cried. Erfalas sprang up, making his way towards the camp.

"We are under attack! We are under attack!" Erfalas cried. Erfalas had run towards the camp again, alone. Where was Tanroth? Erfalas found himself standing alone; no one of the others seemed to understand what was going on- or wake up for that matter. He took a wild grip of Rostion, who lay quietly just by the fire. "We're under attack!"

He was stricken by panic, but took his sword and held it firmly. Erfalas could in glimpse Tanroth, finally coming a bit towards the camp, driven by the orcs; who came violently towards his partner elf. The others seemed also to awake from their sleep as Erfalas faced one of the first orcs, who came running towards him, with a deadly blade.

[ November 09, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

Elennar Starfire's post

"We are under attack! We are under attack!"

Erfalas' cry woke Dunaire from a dreamless sleep, and he sat up, startled, ducked as an arrow whizzed over his head, and grabbed for his sword. Springing to his feet, he rushed to the east, the direction the cry had come from, though he heard the sound of battle coming also from the west.

Through the fog he could barely see where he was going, snd several times almost ran into a tree, an orc, or one of his companions. There weren't all that many orcs, only about ten on this side, and probably not many more on the western side, but the fog made it difficult to tell who was a friend and who was an enemy. Once, Dunaire mistook Imthôlion for an orc, and only just in time realized who it really was. They then stayed close, and eventually Arilewen and Erfalas joined them.

"Have you seen any of the others?" Imthôlion asked as they arrived.

Both shook their heads no.

"Tanroth went to the western side, perhaps the others are with him," Erfalas said.

Let us hope so.

[ November 04, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofaniel]

Nilpaurion Felagund's post

"We are under attack! We are under attack!" The cry broke the silence of the camp. Erfalas was seen running back towards the camp, where he chanced upon Rostion, who was dozing uneasily. He woke the Elf up, and rushed on to the others. Rostion immediately heard familiar cries. Orcs! he thought, and went on over to Firiel.

Now this was the manner of their camp. The ground is heavily covered with trees and tall shrubs, except for two paths; one leading East to Lorien, where Erfalas was heading for; and the other winding Northwest to Dimrill Dale, where Tanroth was holding off the Orcs. Rostion rushed to Firiel, and attempted to wake her up.

"Wake up, Firiel. You have to wake up."

[ November 10, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofaniel]

Firiel suddenly woke by a strong grip around her shoulder. She didn't want to open her eyes, because she was in sleep. The dream was sweet and she didn't want to leave it...just yet. "You have to wake up," Rostion said while breathing heavily. She got up from her sleep and gazed up on Rostion. His eyes were worried. "Get up Firiel, right away. We must flee!" Rostion said and he got to his feet. Firiel hurried to her feet as well.

"What's going on, Rostion?" She asked while looking at him trying to figure out what it was. Rostion remained silent for a moment, looking out in the air. "There are orcs attacking!" Rostion said looking at her, now almost dragging her out from the elves' camp.

"What must we do?" Firiel asked him. Her voice was thin and she was shaking. "We must follow this road and seek Tanroth. He is standing guar on the Western side." he added.

They went down the small road and then suddenly Firiel saw Tanroth there, right in front of them. The fog was still thick and it was difficult to see how far away the Orcs were.

"Quickly," Tanroth said to them as they got over to him. "I don't know how far away the Orcs are, but they are close." Tanroth said in a worried and deep voice." Firiel and Rostion looked at him whit great eyes. A terrible thought suddenly got to Firiel; they were only three of them! Where were the others?

At this very moment, Solondil and Erkaliel came out from the fog. They had already got to their swords, knowing that danger would come.

"We couldn't find the others!" Solondil said. "I think they went to the Eastern side...." Erkaliel added as soon as Solondil had finished. Firiel understood what this meant, as the others did too. They had been divided into two groups, one on the Eastern side of the cam and the other group on the Western side.

"There is nothing we can do about it now!" Rostion said loudly. "We'll have to fight these Orcs first and then we can go and look for them. There is no time now." He continued. Tanroth gave a short nod. Everyone agreed that this was the only thing that they could do.

As the Orcs came closer, now Firiel could see them with her own eyes Rostion held her hand. "Keep close to me," he whispered. Before the two of them got to say another word Tanroth's voice rose through the foggy air. "Grab your swords!" Tanroth commanded.

[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Imthôlion watched the orcs approach from the east, though he could see little of them through the dense fog. He notched his first arrow and released it, having to guess where to aim. A scream and a thud told of an orc's death. Imthôlion's impaired aim was still deadly. Imthôlion and Duinare rapidly fired arrows at the approaching orcs, while Erfalas run ahead with his sword.

“Imthôlion!” cried Arilewen. “Duinare! I carry no weapon!” She darted to her left as an arrow sailed through the air toward her.

“Get behind that boulder,” said Imthôlion, indicating its location with a tilt of his head. “Stay there and don’t move.” Imthôlion continued to fire on the orcs, but now worried about Arilewen. Now with a greater sense of urgency, he and Duinare killed as many orcs as they could before running to Erfalas’ side with drawn swords.

“We mustn’t let any of them pass,” Duinare said as he was driven close to Erfalas by an orc. “Arilewen carries no weapon.”

Imthôlion swung his sword at the orc who ran at him, cutting its head off in one stroke. Three other bodies lay at his feet, but were soon joined by many more of the foul creatures. The three brave elves strove to defeat the orcs, but there seemed so many of them. Cut off from the rest of the group, Imthôlion faced three orcs at once. He was pushed back past Arilewen’s place of hiding, though he did not notice. One of the orcs fell, and then the second was decapitated. Imthôlion looked for the third and pulled out his bow. He fired as he saw the orc raising his sword to attack someone.

Arilewen had been looking away from Imthôlion’s duel, when she felt a callus covered hand grab her shoulder. She tensed, ready to fight for her life, when the grip loosened as suddenly as it had caught her. She turned to see Imthôlion drop his bow and dive out of reach of an orc’s sword.

Imthôlion jumped up and dodged the orc’s attacks as he struggled to pull his sword from its scabbard. The orc’s blood, which covered it so thickly, had rendered the sword stuck. Narrowly avoiding having his hand removed from his wrist, Imthôlion reached for a hefty piece of a tree’s branch that lay on the floor near him. Rolling out of reach of the orc, he swung the branch, hitting the orc on the side of its head, slaying it instantly. He caught his breath while trying to remove his sword from its sheath, but it was stuck fast. Hearing the battle cries of his companions, including Arilewen who had found a dead orc’s sword, Imthôlion picked up the sword of his latest kill and ran to join the main fight. He hoped the fight would not last much longer, for he was tiring.

[Novnarwen]

Erfalas, Jack's character

Erfalas ran, he didn't know exactly where, he just ran away from the others, in mere terror. As he held his sword high, he faced his first orc. He held the hilt firmly as he swung his blade in a half circle. Without really getting a hit this time, Erfalas put all his effort in the new swing. He sighed, as the sword met the orc's chest. Red blood appeared on the Elf's sword, but he hadn't time to do anything about that before he could glimpse another orc, having its' energy out on Erfalas.

The Elf heard the sound of arrows, swishing around in the fog. The Orc in front of him noticed it too, and turned around being confused it seemed, just as he was hit by one in the neck. It fell down, hitting the ground as he died. Erfalas took a deep breath.

He was caught in the middle of nowhere, fighting orcs in a foggy place. Anxiousness caught him, and held a grip about him. Erfalas had troubles breathing. Everything was just a mess; he was afraid, alone and he could barley see. He stepped away from the body, shaking. As he heard the cries from some of his companions, he made his way through the fog, of the direction he did not know.

He ran again, being sweaty and tired. As he stumbled over another body, this one being just barley alive, he fell. He dropped his sword in the fall, leaving it by the chest of the half dead orc. Everything went black, leaving no trace, of what had happened, behind.

He woke up, not long after his fall, to find himself in great pain; his leg was seriously hurt after his fall. Erfalas bit his lip as he wanted to cry out loud. But he couldn't. What if there were orcs, still around in the area? And where were the others? Had they left him? By this he got angry and sad for that matter. He rose up but lay down again, as he felt the ever growing pain in his leg. He would have to wait, wait for someone to find him, if someone would find him. Someone who wasn't his enemy.

****************

Erfalas heard a faint sigh from the orc, who was currently standing right behind him. He ducked as the orc grabbed Erfalas' sword and waved it, for one purpose only, to kill. At that very moment, there was a new swish in the air. The Orc fell over Erfalas, with an arrow sticking out from his back. "Hello?" Erfalas called as some figures appeared. The Elf couldn't tell who though.

[ November 05, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

Erkaliel

Through the wisps of fog, Erkaliel could see part of the battle being fought. Her own arrows had downed a number of the brutes coming from the west. Thank Eru it was only a small band of the evil creatures which had attacked them.

She slung her bow over her shoulder and drew out her sword with her right hand, and held her dagger in a ready position in her left. It was getting too hard to tell the difference between friend and foe in the swirling mists. Her fighting would have to be done closer in.

To her left she heard someone’s cry. A male voice, muffled in the fog. Turning quickly toward the sound, she picked her way carefully over the rocks. It was one of her companions, she thought, but she could not see him clearly. Daring to raise her voice, she called out to him. ‘Who is there?’

A figure loomed up out of the fog at her, leaping at her, curved blade poised to strike her. The Orc’s cold eyes were fixed on her and she could almost smell the rotten stench that issued from its mouth as it drew near. She closed in on him, her sword ready to strike.

With a cry of rage against the weapons she brandished, the Orc raised his blade high and brought it down in a hard arc against Erkaliel. She raised her sword and her long knife, crossing them above her and caught the brunt of his blow. Staggering against the force of his swing, she threw him back just enough for her to throw her knife into his gut, bringing him to his knees. With a swift and deadly thrust of her sword, she dealt him his death blow.

All was quiet then. She could hear her breathing, made ragged by the exertion of the fight. Erkaliel took a long breath and blew it out slowly, steadying herself for any other attackers.

But none came.

Her ears straining for clues of her companions she stood as still as the rocks that loomed about her . . .

[ November 05, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Imthôlion lowered his bow, though it had not been his shot that had killed the orc. He and Duinare had approached Erfalas from different directions, and both had taken aim as they saw the orc swing its blade at something. Duinare was quicker to release his arrow, but now they both ran to where Erfalas lay.

“You are lucky, my friend,” said Imthôlion, “that the fog is thinner here. We would not have seen you otherwise. Are you injured?”

Erfalas moved his leg, but winced as pain shot through his ankle. “It is my ankle.”

Imthôlion checked Erfalas’ ankle and found, thankfully, that it was not broken. “Your ankle is twisted,” Imthôlion sighed, knowing it was still bad news. Any leg injury would slow the group down until they got their horses. “I will make a potion to take away the pain and swelling. Duinare, can you boil some water please?” Imthôlion untied a small pouch from his belt and took some lemon grass from it. He crushed it between his fingers and was glad to see it was still fresh enough to serve its purpose. However, there was no chance that the Athelas was fresh enough. Imthôlion went to look for some and, against all odds in the thick fog, he found some not too far away from the others. He hastened back and added the two plants to the boiling water. Imthôlion used a twig to stir the mixture and wished it did not take so long for the potion to be ready – the surviving orcs who had run could return at any moment. After ten minutes of tense silence, Imthôlion poured some of the mixture into a bowl and gave it to Erfalas to drink, chuckling as he saw his friend’s reaction to the unpleasant taste. Taking some strips of cloth, which had been soaking in the healing mixture, Imthôlion tightly bound Erfalas’ ankle.

“Will you be able to walk?” Duinare asked Erfalas. “We must find the others.”

“Imthôlion’s potent mixture has eased the pain to near nothing. I will be able to walk, tough I shall need a staff to lean upon. Ah,” he said, picking up the branch Imthôlion had used as a weapon, “this will do nicely.”

“I must have kept hold off it while I used an orc’s sword,” said Imthôlion. “My sword is stuck fast in its scabbard. I shall have to clean it when we find the others. Come, let us away from this place. I do not have the energy left for another fight.”

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

A last cry from an orc, who fell dead on the ground, was heard as Tanorth found Firiel, Rostion, Erkaliel and Solondil. Together they had faced the attack coming from the western side. "The others?" Tnaroth asked, while looking into the fog. Firiel shook her head. "When we were attacked, the attack came from two sides. I believe the others went in the other direction. But I am not sure." Tanroth stood unsympathetic to Firiel's reply, though he had to realise that they wouldn't be able to find the others now, the fog was still too thick.

"What are we to do?" Solondil asked after a while. Rostion looked up. This was surly a good question. If they weren't able to find the others now, then what? And what if something had happened to them? What if they were hurt.. or.. Dead. Tanroth shuddered, making a grimace. This was up to him; making a decision would be hard though. He shared his thoughts with the others, standing around him. But he left the part about him, being worried about someone being hurt or dead, out. "It would be dangerous to stay in the mountains now," he said. "We won't know how many orcs there are."

"And what if there aren't any more orcs?" Erkaliel asked. Her voice was shaking, either with fear or something else which was bothering her. Tanroth shook his head, showing them his worries. "We cannot simply take that risk. Can we?" Yet again there was silence. Tanroth didn't know what to think. Did they agree, or what? He made his way towards one of the bodies, taking his weapon. "We will need anything we can find if we stay," Tanroth announced in a determined voice. Firiel took a grip of his arm. "The others will be okay, right?" she said, sounding like she was assuring herself, meanwhile really caring about whether the others would and had made it.

"We don't know anything, unless someone saw anything, or heard anything for that matter," Tanroth said and sighed. The others nodded, but confirmed to him that none of them had been witnesses to any of the events concerning the others. "We'll have to decide quickly. We have little provisions and little time, if there are more orcs, they will know about this soon enough." After turn they all gave their acceptance; Tanroth would lead them on, without the others, and without trying to find the camp first. The Elves hoped the others would reach the camp, and bring along their belongings. Unless the other group would find their way back to the camp and meet up with Tanroth's group, they would have even bigger difficulties coming to Tharbad, and get their horses, than expected.

"We should be down by sunrise, if we hurry and walk in a great speed. I hope for all our sakes, that Arilewen, Erfalas, Dunaire and Imthôlion are okay, and that our roads will cross. Now let us leave this battlefield, before it will get even more filled with blood."

Solondil and Tanroth went in the front, talking silently to each other. Firiel, Rostion and Erkaliel seemed still to be in doubt whether this was the best thing to do. Even Tanroth wondered about this, but a decision was made, and couldn't be withdrawn. Not now.

[ November 10, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

Erkaliel

The mists lessened as they descended the pass. What once had been a wide, clear path leading down along the shoulder of Caradhras was now a narrow, rock strewn track – a misstep in certain stretches and one could find oneself plummeting down the slope. A few stars peeked through the ragged clouds lending the Elves’ eyes enough light to keep sure their footing, despite the quickened pace of Tanroth.

From the pouch at her belt, Erkaliel took out a fair-sized piece of Elven way-bread. She pinched off a small mouthful and handed the lembas to the Elf in front of her, indicating that he should take some and pass it on. The nourishing energy of the way-bread revived her body almost immediately, and the sweet flavor revived her spirit as it spread through her. Her steps felt lighter, her temperament less burdened with worry.

An old song came unbidden to her lips, and she hummed the tune, then softly sang the words.

. . . Kotirion, Queen of Elms . . .
This season best befits your ancient town
With echoing voices sad that slowly pass,
Winding with waning music faintly down
The paths of stranded mist. O fading time
When morning rises late all hoar with rime,
And early shadows veil the distant woods!
Unseen the Elves go by, their shining hair
They cloak in twilight under secret hoods
Of grey, their dusk blue mantles gird with bands
Of frosted starlight sewn by silver hands . . .

Far below and to the south a thin band of silver caught the moon’s light for a moment and winked into existence, glimmering against the darkness of the land below. Erkaliel paused for a moment drinking in the momentary beauty of the Sirannon as it flowed westward, beckoning.

The moon slid silently behind a wandering cloud and the river disappeared. Having slowed a bit to take in the fleeting view, Erkaliel now picked up her pace, falling close into line behind her companions.

_____________________________________________

Poem is a fragment from The Trees of Kortirion; The Book of Lost Tales 1; J.R.R.Tolkien. Kortirion is a city on Tol Eressëa.

[Novnarwen]

Erfalas, Jack's character

“Imthôlion’s potent mixture has eased the pain to near nothing. I will be able to walk; tough I shall need a staff to lean upon. Ah, this will do nicely,” Erfalas said as he eyed a branch, which Imthôlion had used as a weapon, during their fight,

Erfalas sighed, halting. After the healing poison given from Imthôlion, he felt better, but still a bit awkward when he walked. He tried not to think about it, but couldn't help the feeling that he was slowing the group down. The group had to reach the camp, and they would certainly need to find the others too. Erfalas sighed again, as he rested; the others also slowed down their pace and took heed.

"After my calculations, I guess our camp will be about in that direction," Dunaire announced, pointing with his thin finger. Erfalas hoped Dunaire was correct; the group couldn't afford to lose more time. And he too, couldn't bear to walk unnecessary distances with his ankle.

After about 5 minutes, they stumbled over what before had been their fire (camp). It was turned out, just recently. "Do you think they have been here?" Erfalas asked, feeling his leg getting better every moment passing. "Nothing seems to be missing," Arilewen assured them, with great wonder in her voice though. Imthôlion held up some of their food provisions, making a grimace. Their drink was still there: everything was.

Dunaire announced: "This can only mean that Firiel, Rostion, Tanroth or Erkaliel haven't been here. No one has." "Then, where are they?" Erfalas cried out, confused over the whole situation. His question was answered with silence in the late night

[ November 24, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

Luckily none of them had been hurt in the attack. Firiel had managed to defend herself with her bow. One of her arrows had pierced on of the Orcs in the eye and the Orc had fallen to the ground. It was a terrible sight.

Now, as the moon was up and the fog was beginning to get even thicker than before they first thought of the others. Where were they? They hadn't seen them since the attack had started. Friel and her group had been fighting on the western side, maybe the others had been on the Eastern side. She asked Tanroth if that was possible, and he admitted that he had been thinking g of the same as well. "Shouldn't we go and find them? Firiel asked. "Perhaps they are still at the camp, waiting for us." She added when Tanroth looked away.

"Well, we don't know. And the fog is thick, we cannot risk it. We may be more lost than we are now." Tanroth said while looking at Rostion. He nodded. It was obvious that he shared the same opinion as Tanroth.

"What about you Solondil and Earkile?" Firiel asked when she turned against them. Now they all noticed that they had stopped walking.

"I don't know..."Solondil answered. Erkaliel remained silent for a minute before she gave her answer. "I think we should go and look for the others, but it is, as Tanroth said, too risky. And therefore we cannot do it."

Firiel gave a shot sigh. "Alright then, let’s continue walking." Tanroth took the first step and the others followed.

Soon they came to the cliff sloping downwards. It led down from the mountains into a valley-like scenery. The group stopped and seated. They all knew they had to make a choice.

"So, what do we do?" Tanroth said to break the silence. "We go down, of course. " Firiel said at once.

"Yes, maybe the others will think that we have gone down, and they'll come and look for us. We'll leave a trace here that they hopefully will find." Rostion said. The other elves nodded carefully.

"Alright, Erkaliel and Firiel, can you two make a nice trace so they'll find us?" Tanroth asked and turned to the women. Erkaiel and Firiel nodded without saying anything they found some twigs and made a bonfire out of it. "No Orc will see this hopefully," Firiel said while they made the fire. "They won't either," Erkaliel said at once. "I think the fog is too thick for them to see." She added. Firiel smiled.

When they had finished they went over to where Tanroth, Solondil and Rostion were standing. They were discussion how they would go don' the mountain side.

Rostion turned to Firiel when he saw her coming. "We have decided to go at once before the fog gets even thicker and before the night is upon us." Firiel nodded. "I think that's a clever thing to do," she said looking at Tanroth.

Nothing else was said, they just started to walk. The mountain side was steeping and some of them had problems keeping themselves on their feet. Suddenly they heard a cry. It was Solondil. He was loosing his grip, and his feet were placed on some loose rocks that were reselling underneath him. Firiel who stood nearest Solondil, didn't know what to do, so she just seized him by the arm, hoping he wasn't to heavy for her to hold. "Take my hand," Rostion cried at Solondil.

Solondil gasped as a rock was falling down from above down in his direction. "Take it now!!" Rostion cried again. Firiel was still holding Solondil by the arm, but she was loosing her grip. "I cannot take it." Solondil said as the rock passed him by an inc. "You're too far away!" He cried again.

[ November 10, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Erfalas and his group

Erfalas couldn't take the silence much longer. How come nobody answered? In a desperate movement, he ran out and into the fog, being about two paces away from the others. "Come on! We must find them!" Erfalas sprang back, after looking in despair into the air. Even though his ankle was still hurt from the fall, he didn't really care; they would have to focus now; finding the others.

"We should camp here for the night. I doubt we'll get down the mountains before sunrise anyway. It's dark, and we won't come far." Imthôlion expressed his worries, while Erfalas thought through what he had just said. The others nodded, agreeing with Imthôlion. Three to one then; Erfalas had to agree too. They slept that night, without further troubles.

Save for anyone who wants a word in this..

[ November 12, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

"Don't let him go, Firiel." Rostion said. "Not yet.." Firiel gave a short nod. "Come on now, switch places with me. Just take a step backwards to the left. I won't let you fall. And f course, don't let Solondil go..." Firiel did as Rostion said, but the weight of Solondil wasn't exactly i her favour. When Firiel had stepped backwards Rostion came and leaped in front of her. He sized Solondil and dragged him up.

It was first now, the elves in front of them had noticed that something were wrong. They came running back to Firiel and Rostion. "Just continue forwards." Firiel said to them. "Everything is fine." Firiel added. The elves looked at her but did as she said.

Before continuing Rstion, Firiel and Solondil just stood there and tried to breathe as normally as possible. They were all out of breath and didn't say anything. It seemed that Solondil was the first one to get his breath back though, and then he thanked them. Rostion shook his hand and suggested that they should continue so they wouldn't loose the others.

~*~

Finally they reached the bottom of the mountain side. The fog was thick there too, but not as thick as the one in the mountains. No one would believe how happy Firiel was to be down on the ground again. The mountain episode with Solondil had been quite frightening, and Firiel felt that she needed some good deal of sleep to gather her strengths.

[ November 10, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Erfalas and his group, the following morning.

As the morning arrived, they were cold and hungry, but Erfalas insisted on going right away, not wanting losing more time.

Erfalas packed the company's belongings in a hurry, afterwards carrying the two wrapped up backpacks. He gave one of them to Imthôlion, who nodded as Erfalas passed him, going first.

****

Erfalas and the others started walking; him being totally determined on finding the others: "We'll try to get down from these mountains, but all the same look for signs that might imply that the others, belonging to this company, have been here," Erfalas said, now looking at the others, who nodded eagerly as if accepting this. Erfalas noticed the others being more up for it now. He gave a grin before they continued.

They followed a path, which went steadily downwards, winding from side to side. Erfalas had great trouble going down, especially were it was sloping and difficult to know where to put one's steps. He didn't complain though, since the atmosphere already had lightened up several cuts above. The fog was getting thinner and thinner, and this also helped for the group member's to give a smile now and then. However, every time Erfalas's ankle hurt though, he tried to smile as well and not think about the pain.

"Look!" An echo from Dunaire's voice yelled in the mountains. He ducked, growing red, realising how loud he had said it. Imthôlion stared at him, giving him a small hush. "What is it?" Erfalas asked, springing towards the male elf careless of the voice's volume. The man pointed at the ground: "You see that? It looks like one of our fellow Elves hasn't been very light-footed while walking."

On the ground one pace a way, there was a faint trace and another few paces from where the group stood, where another. Erfalas broke into laughter. "This means that at least one of our fellow companions is alive!" he announced happily. The other grinned, everyone feeling a small hope in finding the others alive too. The group followed the traces, seeing them lead exactly where this group was heading; down the mountain.

***********

[ November 24, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

For Erkaliel, joy was tempered with sorrow at the reuniting of the two groups. Joy that her companions once again surrounded her, and sorrow that some of them had been injured in the fight against the Orcs. She herself had escaped any physical harm, but there was a growing doubt now that all of them would come through safely to the Grey Havens. Sauron, it seemed, had marshaled all his forces, and it would be a grim struggle for all against his growing shadow.

Sleep was beyond her. Her nerves were snapping with tension. She sat just outside the circle of firelight from the small camp fire several of the others had made, her sword laid across her knees, her senses alert for any other dangers. There was soft talk among the Elves as they moved about the small camp, and many were bringing up stories they had heard of this region.

Eregion it was called, the land of holly; where even now the prickly leaved trees dotted the countryside, though not as often as they had. In the Second Age it had been a peaceful, prosperous land where Children of Ilúvatar and the Children of Aulë, the Elves and the Dwarves, were friends. Great craftsmen of the Elves were the Noldor of Eregion led by Celebrimbor. Gwaith-i-Mírdain, the people of the jewel smiths, they were named, with only Fëanor, who made the Silmarils, to outshine them in skill.

For nearly a thousand years the Gwaith-i-Mírdain and Durin’s folks worked together. Celebrimbor helped wrought the great West Gate of the Dwarven stronghold, Khazad-dûm.

Then came Sauron and the making of the Rings of Power by the Elven jewel-smiths. The Elves were betrayed in the end, Celebrimbor slain in the great War between the Elves and Sauron, Eregion laid waste. And the doors of Khazad-dûm were sealed against invasion by Sauron’s forces.

Erkaliel shivered though the night was warm, remembering the Elven peoples’ part in the war now being fought in this Age against Sauron. ‘Had we not been so greedy, or yearned so much for more skill and beauty, then perhaps there would be no One Ring and Sauron would have faded from power long ago,’ she murmured to herself.

The stars glittered coldly in the late night sky. Little jewels, set in darkness. They brought her no comfort as she looked up at them.

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

"Our roads crossed after all then," the male elf announced, while the nine of them were all over-excited about their reunion.

They sat around the fire, in a circle, telling stories. Tanroth tried to keep up, but somehow it didn't interest him. Yesterday's and today's events were troubling him. He had been so worried, not only for Erfalas, Imthôlion, Dunaire and Arilewen, but also regarding the cliff incident. He shook his head, and tried to relax. Everyone was gathered together now, which was the true issue.

The sky turned black with silver dots, when at last the company went to sleep.


***************

When Tanroth woke up the next morning, the first thing he did was to urge the others up, as well. It was important to get moving now; he was starting to doubt this, but didn't confess his concerns this morning. They packed, hurrying to eat a small breakfast. They turned out the fire, and covered their tracks; they would need to be more careful than what they had been earlier; Sauron's forces were moving, moving with great speed....

*********

They walked for two days, hearing the streaming river, Sirannon, which they followed. The Gates of Moria grew near, and the company felt their heart lighten as they knew Ost-in-edhil was close. That evening when they camped, Tanroth told a story about the lost city, Ost-in-Edhil, which was founded by the by their very own Queen Galadriel and her husband, Celeborn.

"It was in the year 750 of the Second Age, Lady Galadriel and Celeborn founded the city of the Elves in Eregion Ost-in-Edhil, on the North brink of Glanduin. This is very near the junction with Sirannon and East of Nîn-in-Eilph. Celebrimbor, who had an exceptional obsession with crafts, like dwarves, " Tanroth paused, as the elves giggled. "Followed in the trail of Galadriel and Celeborn." Tanroth spoke in a deep voice, looking at each and every, to see their reactions towards his story. Many, or rather everyone, knew the story already, but no one had any objections regarding, hearing it again.

"In early tales, Celebrimbor was said to be one of the greatest artificers of Turgon.
He survived the sack of Nargothrond and followed the Lady and Celeborn, when going east over Ered Luin. Soon, Celebrimbor became the most renown smith in Ost-in-Edhil and in Middle-earth. Ost-in-edhil was at that time a city with great Elven- smiths, such as Celebrimbor, and had also close relations with the dwarves in Moria. When the Numenorians arrived at Lond Daer, they founded the city known as Tharbad, which grew in power and might," Tanorth stopped, now only whispering. The others looked up, hoping to get more out of Tanroth and hear the rest of the story.

The male elf continued, telling the others of how Sauron in the year 1200 in the Second Age, came disguised to Ost-in-Edhil. He offered the story about the Elven-smiths, which did not know of this new-comer's hidden intensions, and welcomed the Maia, who tried to pass for being a great teacher within craft. "The smiths in Ost-in-Edhil still didn't know anything, and learned eagerly from their new teacher, who after some time they did get knowledge from," he stated.

He jumped to the part concerning Galdriel and Celeborn, and told the others about how Gladriel and Celeborn however, saw at once who this really was and what his intentions were. Unfortunately they were unable to convince the smiths that this teacher was indeed Sauron. The Elven-smiths were persuaded to revolt against Galdriel and Celeborn by Sauron himself.

Gadriel decided in the year 1350 to leave Eregion, to seek for happiness in Lorien, but this would also mean that she had to enter the Dwarf mines, and go through Khazad-Dum; Celeborn refused this.

In 1500 of the Second Age, the Elve-smiths reached the heights of their skills. It was then the forging of the Elven-Rings began. Sauron deceived the smiths, and made the One Ring to Rule them all. Celebrimbor though, figured this out, and at that time the War between the Elves and Sauron started.

"Ost-in-Edhil was laid in ruins in the late year of 1600th of the Second Age."

Tanroth finished his tale, as the Elves prepared to go to bed. They would pass Ost-in-Edhil in a day or so.


*************

Ost-in-Edhil info source: Annals of Arda

[ November 16, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

The moon was rising and all the elves were sleeping like small children under the beautiful dark sky. The only light that could be seen was the moon light that was slowly fading away as the morning came. Then the sun came and replaced it.

The next morning the elves were walking again. They wanted to reach Ost-in-Edhil as soon as possible. Their next move would be their arrival to Tharbad. There they would hopefully come across some good horses that they would use the rest of their journey, or as far as they needed them.

[ November 16, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[piosenniel]

The closer each footstep fell toward the West, the greater her longing became. In this once fair land where now the shadow reached out its greedy fingers she felt more a stranger with every passing league. Where once the light of the Blesséd Lands shone clearly, now all was changing, taking on hues of greys and blacks and she was feeling left behind . . . faded . . .

Erkaliel stayed awake most nights. There is still a beauty in the stars she thought, and in their patterns. She had laid down beneath them, her eyes open to their song, their swirling movements across the night sky swimming in her eyes. It refreshed her for the long days of trekking across the sparsely treed, rolling plain.

No more troubles had plagued them since they left the mountains. Light-footed, the Elves had made good time down the River Sirannon and had just passed the ancient city of Ost-in-Edhil. A short way west of it was a large marshy area, and she looked with hope toward it, shading her eyes with her hand to scan the vast wetlands. From the wetlands they would turn south to Tharbad, the now deserted city where the North-South road crossed the River Mitheithel and went up into the Hobbit lands.

‘Look, Tanroth! Look, Erfalas! Just there among the reeds!’ The two Elves had come up beside her. ‘Nîn-in-Eilph . . . Swanfleet!’ she cried. They looked where her fingers pointed, and there in the middle of the great marsh were two, gleaming white, swans. As if they had heard the Elves approach, the birds took wing, trumpeting a greeting, or so it seemed, before landing further away from the group of travelers.

‘These still are beautiful,’ she murmured, watching them. ‘His hand has not touched them.’ Erkaliel turned to her two companions, a smile on her face. ‘Such a sight! It still gives hope, does it not?’

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

Upon stepping in Eregion, Rostion felt strangely...light. Each step was like walking through the clouds. It's joyful to return to your roots, he thought. Despite the melancholy of the setting, with the rubble of the once-fair Elven-buildings scattered here and there, he was in a mood for a song...some silly song now only heard in Rivendell far away. He had one that fitted the occasion, for they were heading for the Firth of Lune, where the ships of Cirdan are harboured...

There was this lady from Lune
Who tried to climb up to the moon.
Climbed higher and higher
But soon out of ladders
And she hit the ground so soon...
_____________________________________________

[ November 16, 2003: Message edited by: Nilpaurion Felagund ]

[ November 16, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofaniel]

The elves walked as the day grew dim. They had passed Ost-in-Edhil for about four days ago. After they had passed the city they turned westwards and passed a large marsh. They were now turning south towards Tharbad. Since they had been walking fast they would soon be seeing Tharbad there, ahead of them.

~*~

"Where should we get our horses from?" Firiel asked Tanroth as they were walking.

"Hopefully we will come across some good men that will give us horses." Tanroth answered slowly.

"But isn't the city...deserted?" Firiel asked again. Tanroth looked at her and nodded.

"That is what they say, my friend. But I do believe that there are some people left. We just have to count on them." Tanroth said looking forwards. Then he turned and told the other elves that they had to fasten their speed.

Erfalas, and Erkaliel rushed over at Tnaorth's side. Then afterwards Solondil and Imthôlion came.

After they had been walking a few more miles someone suggested that they should take a short break. There weren't much disagreement on this one, so they took as short break befroe continuing. No one said anything for a long time, before Tanroth announced that he knew theses roads and that if he wasn't completely wrong, they would reach Tharbad within a day.

But since the darkness was soon creeping over them he thought that they should make a camp for the night. And if they were lucky they would reach Tharbad the next evening. Everyone was very pleased to hear thi, and it made a very merry atmosphere in the camp.

~*~

The next morning they woke earlier than the sun. They wanted to start walking as quickly as possible.

They continued the road southwards knowing that they would reach Tharbad in the evening they walked with great haste. They didn't allow themselves to take a break this day, until they had come to Tharbad.

Firiel like the thought of getting themselves horses. Everyone did. It meant that there would be no more hurting legs and they wouldn't have to take so many breaks as they had done in the passed. It would also quicker, and they would pass more miles within shorter time than now.

~*~

"Tharbad, my friends...." Tanroth said suddenly. He was now pointing. The elves looked up and realized that Tharbad was there, right in front of them.

The town looked deserted indeed, but it didn't matter, because they were there. Finally. Friel could hear some of the elves laughing behind her as they went through the gates.

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

"Tharbad, my friends...."

Tanroth announced their coming to the almost abandoned town, Tharbad. Relief and satisfaction came upon the elves as they trudged down the winding path, coming to a gate. The company entered the town itself, after waiting for someone to open it. They entered however, when they found a way to open it themselves. Tanorth sighed, not out of despair, but out of happiness.

"Let's found a place where we can take rest for the night," Tanroth suggested. "We'll be able to pick up the horses the first thing in the morning," he continued, with determination. Everyone agreed at once, grinning as they followed the road.

No man was seen. The old grey houses were located on each side of the road. Normally, Tanorth would have asked the group to take heed, in case someone was eying them, but this didn't really matter now. Most of the houses were abandoned, and others were just simply nothing Tanroth felt he needed to be concerned about.

They walked on, being quiet. Considering the time of night, Tanorth felt weary, but surprisingly enough he felt better as he started thinking about the horses, and that the company would finally get some real sleep. Few moments had passed, after this encouraging thought had left Tanroth's head, when they stood outside a grey old house.

"Thabard Inn."

The sign was originally white as snow, but now it looked dirty. Only thin lines of black, which had faded, convinced the company that this really was a sign for an Inn, Tharbad Inn.

As they muttered in agreement that they were to go in, they were surprised as a man opened the door and stared at them. Tanroth was quick, saying that they only wanted to stay the night. "We're hungry and tired," he added, as he saw the fierce expression in the man's face. The Elves didn't say anything, only waited.

The man waved his hand inwards, showing them the way in. Inside it was dark, but at least lighter than what it had been outside. The Innkeeper lit a lantern, advancing towards the Common Room, where he begged them to sit down. "Nine Elves," the man, named Brander said. He made an expression which showed clearly, that this was indeed something unusual. Tanroth smirked, letting Firiel answer. Women know better than to burst out about everything, he thought.

"Nine elves…. Strange but true," she said, laughing. The others laughed as well, and the Innkeeper seemed pleased with this answer. Tanroth on the other hand, was worried about the fact that this man had taken this seriously. And when the Innkeeper asked them if they were hungry, Tanroth had to make an effort not to reveal his awkwardness. Not more curious than that? he asked himself, thanking the Innkeeper, as he was served a bowl of hot soup with bread.

They ate eagerly, Tanroth kept his eye on the Innkeeper though, just to be sure. No one can be trust anymore.

[ November 19, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

Erkaliel sat at one of the tables in the common room. She’d borrowed a damp rag from the Innkeeper to wipe the layer of dust from the table top. Satisfied with her efforts, she returned the rag and brought back a small cup of wine to savor. She was hoping it would improve the flavor of the small bowl of soup the Innkeeper had brought her.

The wine rolled over her tongue leaving a dry sensation in her mouth. ‘It must have been a poor year for grapes when this poor wine was pressed,’ she thought to herself. Still it was something different than the brackish water they had last gathered to fill their waterskins before heading to this town.

She hailed the Innkeeper to bring her another cup. ‘No, make that the bottle, if you please.’ He mumbled something about seeing her coin first for this special bottle – one of his finest! Erkalaiel laughed and fished out a few coins, more than enough to pay for the drink . . . and some privacy, she thought as she shooed him away.

The window she sat at was dirty; the dim light from the bright moon barely able to penetrate. Erkaliel reached up with the sleeve of her tunic and rubbed clean a small area of the windowpane. Nothing to see really. The one street that ran past the Inn was deserted and many of the surrounding buildings had fallen into decay. ‘Just like this world,’ she mused, pouring herself another glass. ‘It really won’t be so hard to leave, I think.’

The soup was now long finished; the wine beginning to taste better the more she drank. The thought of sleep was far from her mind. She propped her long legs on one of the chairs opposite her and leaned back comfortably. Raising the bottle, she waved it about a bit and spoke up to her companions. ‘Anyone else fancy a little wine? There’s plenty – just bring a glass . . .’

[Orofaniel]

Firiel went over to Erkaliel. She was sitting alone at one of the tables in the common room. She turned to the company and waved with a bottle: "Anyone else fancy a little wine? There’s plenty – just bring a glass . . ."

Some of the elves gave a short laugh and some of them just sat there smiling. Erkaliel had obviously been drinking a few glasses of wine herself.

Firiel got up from her char and seated herself at Erkaliel's table. "Can I have some?" Firiel asked Erkaliel. "Of course you can..." Erkaliel replied and smiled. She poured some wine in Firiel's glass, and after that, she poured some more to herself.

Just moments after, Imthôlion joined them. Even though he just joined them he was almost falling asleep. His eyes were fading away, and they turned blank. It was the moment before he fell asleep, when Firiel said something; “Wake up Imthôlion,” said Firiel. “The moon’s barely up!” She added when she saw that Imthôlion didn't listen to her first comment. He raised his head from the table and grinned.

They talked for a little while about horses, how much better it would be as soon as they would have them. Firiel agreed and nodded many times during this conversation. She as well, thought it was a refreshing feeling to finally get horses.

An hour later Rostion joined them and took some wine.

[ November 24, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Imthôlion sat with Erkaliel and Firiel as they talked, but he himself said very little. He picked at a piece of bread that was going stale, smiling slightly as he imagined some of the young elvish children mimicking him by saying, “Don’t play with your food, it’s rude.” Oh, how much he was leaving behind! It seemed to the elf that the closer he got to the Havens, the more he was starting to think about what he left behind. Perhaps he was making a mistake…

“…don’t you agree Imthôlion?” said Erkaliel.

“Hmmm,” said Imthôlion sleepily. “What was that?”

“Wake up Imthôlion,” said Firiel. “The moon’s barely up!”

“I said ‘It will be much better travelling when we get the horses, don’t you agree?’” said Erkaliel, taking a sip of her wine.

“Oh, yes,” replied Imthôlion. “From all my travels I’ve come to realise horses are both a good way to travel and good companions. My old stallion, rest his soul, saved me from trouble on more than one occasion, and he keep me warm on cold winter nights,” he added with a laugh.

“Too true,” chuckled Rostion, as he sat at their table. “Good wine here.”

The others began to talk again, and Imthôlion sank back into silence, picking at the victimised bread. He began to recall all of the good times he had had in Middle Earth, yet his travels around the lands had been cut short by the stirring of evil in the land to the south where the shadows lie. There was still so much to see, yet his heart yearned to see the realm beyond the Havens, to see the great city of Aman. As the moon rose higher, Imthôlion’s eyes began to gradually close, until he took leave of his companions and went to bed. They would be setting out again in the morning and, though they would have horses, he needed to rest now so he would be refreshed in the morning. Ah, to sleep in a bed again, if only for one night! He slumped down upon the bed and was asleep in a matter of minutes.

[Elennar Starfire]

Dunaire sat alone, wrapped in his own thoughts. He ate, because it was necessary, not really tasting the food. He had been in a strange mood lately, and he did not know why. Probably just that I'm leaving everything I have ever known, he thought as he sipped at his soup.

A few lines came to his mind then:

Wherever the winding river wanders,
Whenever the stars will light the path I roam,
However my footsteps choose to take me,
Travelling far from the place I call home.

[ November 19, 2003: Message edited by: Elennar Starfire ]

[piosenniel]

Somehow her hand kept dipping into her purse, and somehow the bottles of wine kept appearing in the middle of the table . . . full bottles of wine. Had she been able to reason this out, Erkaliel might have thought that the incident with the Orcs had affected her more than she let on. She might have reasoned that dulling her senses with wine kept the memory of that fight, and others she had been in, at bay.

But to be honest, she was well into her cups by the time she realized that the familiar bottle near her hand was not magic, and had not filled itself of its own accord. And she was certainly beyond reasoning causes for her behavior or even that she should stop drinking at this point.

Firiel was there at her table, and drank a little, as did Rostion. Imthôlion drank none at all, but simply sat picking a piece of stale bread to pieces. And Dunaire sat by himself, wrapped in his cloak and in his thoughts, impregnable. Tanroth was busy with the last spoonfuls of soup. The others she could not see, supposing that they had all gone up to rest.

‘I should get up and go rest,’ she thought hazily to herself. ‘But you’re not really sleepy!’ came another part of her mind. Instead, much to the chagrin of her tablemates, and of Tanroth, who did not wish to call undue attention to their group, Erkaliel stood up from her chair, supporting herself on the edge of the table and grabbed the bottle of wine by the neck. To the horror of the others sitting about her, she clambered quite clumsily to the table top, standing there unsteadily for a moment, trying to get her balance.

Steadiness of a sort achieved, she grinned round the room and clanked her knife blade on the bottle for attention. ‘I’ve a poem I should like to sing you,’ she said, ‘and none of the usual Elven claptrap either. Though I know my share of it.’ She poured herself another glass of wine and saluted her ‘audience’. ‘Now this one comes from a very fine Inn in Bree-land. The Prancing Pony by name. Sung by a fellow with a very fine voice, but I’ll try to do it justice.’ There were murmurs from her tablemates that perhaps she ought to climb down – but she just raised her glass to them and began to sing.

There is an Inn, a merry old Inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill.

She sang on about the stableman’s tipsy cat who played the fiddle; the landlord’s little dog who told jokes; and the horned cow who loved to dance.

The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,
and the cat began to wail;
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,
The cow in the garden madly pranced,
And the little dog chased his tail.

The Man in the Moon took another mug,
And then rolled beneath his chair;
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,
Til in the sky the stars were pale,
And dawn was in the air.

More verses, then, on trying to get the poor Man on his way before the Sun tried to rise. How they rolled him out the door and up the hill and bundled him into his Moon-carriage, watching as the horses of the Moon carried him across the sky.

And finally,

The round Moon rolled behind the hill,
as the Sun raised up her head.
She hardly believed her fiery eyes;
For though it was day, to her surprise
They all went back to bed!

There was a brief round of clapping as she came to the end, mostly from two old fellows at another table, who appeared as intoxicated as she. And they clapped again, even more loudly, calling out ‘Good show!’ as she fell in an ungraceful heap from the table . . .

_______________________________________

Poem excerpts from: The Man in the Moon Stayed Up Too Late; J.R.R. Tolkien

[Novnarwen]

Tanorth sat alone, being quiet, as usual when thinking. He wasn't too happy about this place, and a feeling of uncertainty crept upon him. He could feel his eye locks getting heavier, and he realised the weariness creeping up on him, also. As he dozed of, he thought about the fair woods of Lotlórien, which he had so eagerly left, for a few weeks ago. Then, he couldn't think about anything else than being here, beyond the woods. Now however, he couldn't help himself thinking of the trees, birds, the Lady and his home, job and his other doings and surroundings.

He snorted as he opened his eyes wide. Erkaliel, who had obviously been drinking too much, was making far too much noise. He gave her a warning, but friendly look. Luckily there weren't too many people around. The Innkeeper was currently at the kitchen, washing up after the company, and the few old men who sat here, were almost sleeping, out of drunk or weariness, Tanroth didn't know.

There is an Inn, a merry old Inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill.

Erkaliel started, having a clear voice. Tanroth sighed, and decided to go up ad find his room; it was time to go to bed.

The male elf made his way up the stairs, hearing the applause from the audience. Erkaliel had apparently finished her song. He looked over his shoulder, as he opened the door to his room. Although Tanroth was tired, he didn't go to bed at once. He stared out of the window, with empty eyes. Had he failed being the company's leader? This thought swirled around in his head, and the emptyness in him grew. Already, they had been attacked by Orcs, and they were far behind schedule; at least three days! For a moment, Tanroth hesitated, but realised the facts; if they were to make it to the Havens, before the ship would leave, they would have to hurry up. "We must ride with great speed," Tanroth muttered to himself. He lay down on the bed, finally letting sleep take him.

***********

Tanroth woke up, early next morning. Two knocks on the door, disturbed him and he got up in a hurry. "Yes?" he said, while dressing. "It's Rostion," the voice outside called. Ah.. Tanroth thought, as he recognised the Elf's voice. "I'll be down in a bit," Tanroth replied, hearing Rostion feet, leave his door. Tanroth grabbed his weapons and his other belongings and made his way out. The small room was dusty and dirty, the elf was glad to be leaving.

In the common room, the company gathered, eating a breakfast. "Rostion, Imthôlion and Firiel would you care to come with me and get the horses, meanwhile the others pack new food provisions and such?" Tanroth asked, almost commanding it. The three elves agreed, and they left as soon as their soup-bowl was empty.

********

The four elves left the Inn; meanwhile the others in the company took care of the food. "Around the corner," Tanroth said and pointed. The others nodded as the passed an old house, located some 100 paces away from Tharbad Inn.

The Elf knocked on the door, hearing footsteps coming. Tanroth glanced towards the stable, which was located to the right of them, before a man opened it and slid out the door. "Greetings," he said merrily. Tanroth was surprised by this sudden kindness; it was if the man had been expecting them, for long.

"Come with me please," he requested, telling them that the seven horses were fit and ready. "Seven?" Firiel asked, as they arrived the stable. Tanroth had overlooked this part of the man's sentence, but now, when he had found his piece of parchment which was given by the Lady to him, he realised that seven was the 'wrong' number. "I believe he meant nine," Tanroth said, assuring Firiel.

The man, named Garton looked at them, opening the stable door. "Sorry, but I have only seven," he said. Imthôlion made a grimace, showing how displeased he was, but he said nothing. "But it says," Tanroth started, giving the note to the man.

[ November 22, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Novnarwen]

Firiel- Orofaniel's post.

"But it says..." Tanroth said in a tin voice to the man. Firiel nodded. "Yes, it says that we should have nine horses, sinces we are a company of nine elves." Firiel explained to the man.

"Yes, but you've already picked up two of 'em." The man replied, now seeming a bit grumpy about the whole case. They weren't going to fool him, what did they think? That he was stupid? Oh, no. There had already been two elves picking up two horses.

"What?" Firiel and Tanroth said at the same time, both seeming very surprised over what Garton said. "Two people picked up horses earlier!" Garton said irritated.

"Earlier? When?" Firiel asked again. "I don't know exactly when it was. It was probably 2-3 days ago. It was very dark that evening so I didn't see the two persons properly. They just said that they had "ordered" horses, and I gave them to 'em." Garton said now turning away from the elves. He seemed even more irritated.

"What are we going to do now?" Firiel sighed. She looked at Tanroth then at Rostion. Rostion and Imthôlinon hadn't said much yet; they seemed to be in deep thought.

"Let’s get back to the Inn, tell the others about the situation, and then return to pick up the horses." Imthôlion said.

"No, I think we should just take the horses that are left and then go to back to the Inn. WE cannot afford to loose more horses than we already have. There might be someone "stealing" them as wel, if we leave them behind. I do think that seven horses are better than nothing...." Rostion said. Firil nodded, and expressed that she agreed with her husband.

"Okay, then. We'll do as Rostion suggestion. Seven horses are indeed, better than none at all. We will certainly be a bit delayed though...."Tanroth said and gave a short sigh. "Let us not waste anymore time here. Let us go back to the Inn." Tanroth added.

Garton gave them the horses that were left. He still seemed grumpy and irritated, even though Firiel didn't really have a reason too. It was them that had lost two precious horses. It meant even more delay....She was doubt that they would even reach the Grey Haven before the ship left.

"Who took our horses?" Firiel asked suddenly. The three men that were walking beside her looked at her with great eyes. Tanroth gave a short laugh. "I really haven't thought about that until now, when you mentioned it, Firiel." Tanroth said.

"Maybe some Rangers that have been in town or a coupe of nights....." Imthôlion said, knowing that the possibility of that was small. "Well, we can't exclude anything.." Imthôlion added when Tanroth looked at him. Imthôlion then shrugged, and asked if the others had any theories.

Tanroth didn't say anything for a long time; he seemed troubled though, and upset because of the two missing horses.

[ November 24, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

Morning had come awfully early, or so Erkaliel thought. And the sun . . . so bright! She fished through her bag for a pouch of willowbark powder – excellent medicine for the headache that was beginning to nag behind her eyes. No need to get dressed she noted as she stood up from her bed – apparently she’d gone to sleep with everything on, including her boots. She ran her fingers through her tousled hair, and declared it good enough when the last of the tangles was worked through.

The others had already gone down to breakfast. She had heard their footsteps past her door, and their whispering voices as they spoke to one another. Erkaliel stuffed what little belongings she had into her pack and slinging it over her shoulder, went down to join the others.

They were all eating a hearty breakfast, but the thought of food turned her stomach, and she settled for some tea laden with honey. Rostion, Imthôlion and Firiel soon took their leave with Tanroth. Apparently he had a lead on getting the companions some horses. In a way, Erkaliel was glad that she would not have to walk today, but on the other hand, just the thought of plodding along on a swaying horse with a bumpy gait made her stomach queasy.

Once those four had gone, the others were left to find provisions for the rest of their trip. Erkaliel volunteered to get a supply of dried meats they could use in stews, so they wouldn’t have to stop to hunt. Others were picking up some vegetables that were fairly portable – some small potatoes, carrots, a few small onions, and several packets of savory herbs for cooking. Another was getting some grains and cereals they could cook for breakfasts. A sack of apples was also among the purchases to be made for the road.

When she returned to the Inn with her purchases, she took them up to store in her room. Erkaliel lay down on her bed, tired from the exertions of finding the provisions, and tired from her unabating headache. ‘I’ll just rest for a while, until the others get back,’ she said to herself.

Soon, she had drifted back to sleep . . .

[ November 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Tanroth

"Okay, then. We'll do as Rostion suggestion. Seven horses are indeed, better than none at all. We will certainly be a bit delayed though...." Tanroth said.

The male Elf couldn't believe this; Two of the nine horses already picked up by someone? The thing he found oddest by this, was the fact that Garton seemed to have no idea whom it was. How could that be? Tanroth shook his head, while taking two of the horses' reins, leading them out of the stable. They had better not waste more time here. Rostion and Imthôlion took two as well; meanwhile Firiel leaded the last brown horse out of the small wooden building. As they started walking towards the Inn again, everyone still looked at Tanroth, questioningly.

"There should have been nine," he started, "I know it," he continued. The others didn't answer, and Tanroth could only imagine what the others might have thought that very moment. For his sake, this was bad news. It was probably bad news for everyone. "Maybe some Rangers that have been in town for a couple of nights....." Imthôlion suggested, but not very convincingly.. "Well, we can't exclude anything.." Imthôlion said, as Tanroth looked at him. The elf shrugged, wondering if anyone else had any theories.

They halted as they saw Erkaliel appear outside of the Inn, waving at them, looking pleased. Tanroth however, doubted that anyone would be really pleased when they arrived at the Inn, having two horses short! How was this even possible, he thought to himself, eying out of the corner of his eye, his companions coming out from the Inn now.

********

"Seven? But we're nine!"

That sentence rang in Tanroth's ears for five minutes before he could answer. "I am sorry, but I thought we were going to have nine horses as well. There's something wrong, I just can't figure out what," he said, trying to straighten up even though he was very disappointed and could hardly keep up his appearance.

"Well...?" It was Firiel, she tried to keep up the spirits by telling everyone about the advantages by having two horses short. "First of all, we'll leave fewer traces than what we would have, if we were riding with nine horses," she started. She continued, still speaking in a merry voice, but none seemed to listen very carefully. At last, Firiel asked if there was someone interested in sitting two on one horse.

"Anyone?" she asked, smiling.

At first no one volunteered, only Firiel and Rostion had agreed in advance that they would ride one horse together. Tanroth was just about to volunteer, but then Imthôlion and Erfalas raised their hands, and volunteered. Tanroth smiled, announcing that this meant they were ready to go.

[ 4:15 PM November 28, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Novnarwen]

Orofaniel's post- Firiel

The morning went over to Mid-Day and the elves realized that they had to get going. They had already used much time on the "horse-stable" situation and they were behind schedule, and Tanroth wasn't exactly pleased about this. None of them were actually.

Since there were two horses missing, there had to be two horses that had two riders each. It was decided that Firiel would ride with her husband, Rostion and that Erfalas would ride with Imthôlion

Firiel and Rostion had both left their room and packed their bags. They were uncertain if the others were finished too, so they went down in the common room. There, they found the others. Only Airilewen was missing. She came jumping down the narrow stairs ten minutes later.

The elves didn't hesitate; they left as soon as Airilewen had arrived.

[ 4:15 PM November 28, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

Erkaliel threw her small pack behind the saddle and lashed it on securely. Behind it, she secured the two panniers filled with the packets of dried meat she had obtained and the bags of apples. The brown and white piebald horse eyed her with a disdainful look as she drew near the horse’s head to introduce herself. ‘I know; I know. I should have changed my clothes, shouldn’t I? None too fresh smelling for an Elf, eh?!’ the horse snorted and shook her head as if in agreement.

The Elf clambered up onto her reluctant steed and took her place in line. Tanroth led the way, with the horse bearing Firiel and Rostion following behind. Solondil was next, his horse was high spirited and it took him a number of tries to get the beast to cooperate. Erfalas and Imtholion came next, with Arilewen’s mount nipping at the haunches of their horse as if urging it to get along. Dunaire followed, his horse raising his head high as if to comment on the poor manners of the horse in front of him. At the very back came Erkaliel, her mount moving slowly at her request. The Elf’s stomach was a bit queasy from last night’s fun, and she wished as smooth a ride as possible.

‘So, what shall I call you,’ she said as the line of horses started down the street toward the outskirts of the town. The horse swiveled one ear back as if listening to the musings of her rider. Erkaliel eyed the brown color, and remembered the Golden Wood in late autumn when much of the undergrowth turned brown in color. ‘You know – you look just the color of bracken fern when the snow is almost come.’ The horse snorted at this thought, but Erkaliel stuck to her decision. ‘Bracken, it will be. A fine name. And lovely . . . really . . .’

They had fallen a little behind the others, and Erkaliel kicked Bracken lightly in the flanks to catch them up. The horse whinnied a bit and trotted up next to Dunaire’s mount. Erkaliel nodded at Dunaire and asked if he remembered the name of the town they were heading toward. ‘A Halfling town, is it not,’ she asked, wondering what it would be like.

[ 10:05 PM November 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofaniel]

Sitinion and his father

It was late night and the two Lorien elves were about to camp for the night. Sitinion got off his horse and walked over to his father. "Should we camp here?" He asked the other male elf, who was still sitting on his horse. Sitinion didn't get an answer right away, he shrugged and asked again. "A-are we gong to set up a camp here?" he asked nervously. He, himself thought it was an excellent idea, since the dark was about to come. The sun had disappeared into the west and was not to be seen again until the next morning.

Alright, son." The elf said and got off his horse as well. He clapped it on the back, and smiled. He seemed pleased. The smile rolled over his face once more before he said more: "I'm glad we got a hold on these fine horses." Sitinion said as he knew what his father was thinking.

"Yes, so am I son." Siralil replied. ”V ery...foolish, don't you think? Siralil added and gave a short laugh.

"What is, father?" Sitinion asked in a low voice, when he didn't understand what his father meant. "To leave such excellent horses at that old stable...." Siralil said, looking on his son as he was disappointed that his son hadn't understood what he meant right away. Sitinion looked at his father again in confusion. Sirilil sighed.

"I mean, anyone could have taken them. " he added so that his son would understand his point properly.

Sitinion finally understood what his father had said. He swallowed as his eyes turned blank. "B-but....those...horses....Weren't they....r-reserved for Tanroth and the other elves?" He asked curiously, as well as he seemed anxious. He looked on the horse that stood next to him, breathing heavily. The raven black fur was smooth and silky. The eyes were big and dark.

"No, son." Siralil said in a stern voice. All of a sudden rage has passed over his face as lightening. His voice rose.

"The horses were there, son...Because no one anted them! Tanroth and the company should have picked them up for about two days ago, but they didn't. Why should such fine horses go to waste and rotten in that old stable? We saved those horses, son....By taking them with us, we saved them. Unluckily we only had the possibility to take two of 'em." Siralil said.

"..And for all we know, they could all be dead. Tanroth and the other elves.....So, why should we sit and wait in Lorien, for the Lady to announce that the elves didn't reach the ship? And that the ship left, even though it had places left. You have to learn to fight for what you want son!" Siralil added angrily. His face was slowly turning back to normal.

"We did the only right thing....." Siralil said and turned his back to his son. Sitinion shrugged and mumbled something.

"Remember that!" Siralil side as he started to walk towards the trees were they were going to set up their camp.

Sitinion was left alone in deep thought as the moon shone so brightly that it could be resembled with the sun.....

[Elennar Starfire]

Dunaire looked up as Erkaliel rode up beside him.

"Do you remember the name of the town we will be riding to? A Halfling town, is it not?" she asked.

Dunaire thought for a moment. "Michel Delving, I think the name is," he replied. "Yes, a Halfling town."

He rode in silence for a while, then asked Erkaliel what she thought had happened to the other two horses. "Who do you think it was that took them?"

[ 5:43 PM November 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Siralil and Sitinion

"Remember that! Remember that! Remember that! Remember that! Remember that! Remember that!"

Siralil had been harsh with his words, yet careful. He knew how to treat his son 'correctly' and get him to follow his father's requests. It was important that the boy knew what his father believed in. Siralil made ready to set up a camp, urging his son not to just stand there, but help.

"You can at least help," he groaned.

Sitinion came running over to aid his father, who apparently started to get annoyed. "I am coming," Sitinion said, his eyes lightening with fire. "Just be grateful son," Siralil commanded and started halfway yelling. He told his son that if it wasn't for him they would never be able to leave Middle-earth. "You should thank me! Not stand there, looking like an idiot."

After this, there was silence. None of them spoke. Siralil only gave some sort of hostile glances towards his son, every time his son did something in his own way, which was in Siralil's eyes; the 'wrong' way.

In fact, for the rest of the evening the two of them were silent. Only now and then they turned to each other and muttered something, but nothing of great importance. Siralil wished soon to go to bed, and bade Sitinion do the same. Riding half awake on a horse on these roads wouldn't be good, not even for his own son. Sitinion did as asked, even though he expressed in a deep but innocent tone that he rather wanted to stay up longer, to watch the stars which he loved so dearly.

****

They woke as soon as the sun rose over the horizon and warmed them in the rather cold morning. Siralil judged by the pale sky that bad weather was probably coming, if it wasn't just the early morning. This time a day were always the same, he thought to himself. He handed the bag pack to Sitinion, who had no other choice than to accept it, with a small grimace though. "Come on son. We better get going. There's still a long road ahead of us. Remember we're only 3 days from Tharbad." With that he sprang forwards with his horse, hitting the road again. Their camp was set behind, without them giving any thought to the traces they had left behind.

*****************

Tanroth

Tanroth rode ahead slowly, but steadily to get everyone to follow. Soon he had both Rostion and Firel, who rode on the same horse and Imthôlion next to him. "Glad to be on the road again?" Tanroth asked, knowing for certain that he was. The other nodded, smiling, probably knowing what Tanroth was thinking.

From behind they could hear Erkaliel and Dunaire talking. Tanroth chose to ignore the fact that they brought up, in their conversation, the missing horses. Too Tanroth's annoyance, he just couldn't stop thinking about it. But he tried to keep his face straight, hiding any possibility that he was unsure or even afraid. The truth was that the fact that two horses had gone missing, was frightening. The whole journey would have a new; different, and probably negative, perspective. There were a few options though:

One; someone could have been given the horses by mistake. Not very likely though, Tanroth thought to himself. Two; there was a misunderstanding, the company was only supposed to have seven horses. Tanroth thought about this one for a while, but decided to go for something else. Option three though, was a more realistic. Maybe someone wanted to keep them from getting to the Havens? Tanroth shook his head, avoiding the other's curious eyes.

Just then, he thought about something he had thought of before. Could this horse 'robbery' be an action performed by someone from Sauron's side? Enemies? Orcs? No, Orcs don't use horses, he added, still only thinking though. What if.....?

Tanroth didn't get the chance to think more of this, before Imthôlion stopped in front of Tanroth, asking if there was something wrong.

"You're looking quite pale and worried, my friend," the elf said. Rostion and Firiel turned their heads to Tanroth as well. "Um.. It's just….. I am just tired, that's all," Tanroth said shortly, without explaining in greater details

[ 12:18 PM November 30, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[piosenniel]

‘Michel Delving . . . that’s right! Now I recall it.’ Erkaliel looked northward toward their unseen destination. ‘I’ve heard that the Periannath live in a very large area of Eriador they call the Shire. And that they’ve divided this Shire into four parts to make it more manageable. They call them farthings . . . the parts, that is. And I’m thinking we’ll be going to the West Farthing.’

Erkalaiel urged Bracken a little nearer Dunaire’s mount. ‘I wonder if we’ll get to stop in Michel Delving. It’s the chief town, or so I’ve heard . . . the Mayor lives there.’ Erkaliel sighed. ‘Probably not. We’ll sneak by them in the night without them seeing us or us them. Too bad, really. Once we’re on the ship, we won’t have the chance again.’

They rode on in companionable silence for a while. ‘You know,’ said Erkaliel, suddenly breaking the quiet clip – clop of the horses’ hooves with her voice. ‘About your question – who could have taken the other horses. That’s a real puzzle.’ She shook her head. ‘Who would be passing through the nearly deserted Tharbad except Elves bound for the Havens . . . or ruffians bound for the Shire to cause mischief?’ She narrowed her eyes and looked northward and west, but there was naught that she could see.

‘Either way, it bodes ill for our company . . .’

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Imthôlion had felt a little odd sharing a horse with Erfalas to begin with, but eventually they began to talk and he soon forgot that they were even sharing a horse. Imthôlion occasionally went quiet, his heart feeling the pull of the Fair Wood more the further away they rode. However, Erfalas was so cheerful Imthôlion found it hard not to be light hearted.

"It's strange that two of the horses should go missing," said Erfalas. "I wonder who in Middle Earth could have taken them?"

"Perhaps it was a simple misunderstanding," replied Imthôlion, "and the stable master simply wanted to cover up a mistake on his part."

"I suppose," said Erfalas. "But still, it's still odd. He said that we'd already picked up to of them, meaning he thought two of our party had already been there ahead of us."

Imthôlion thought for a moment. "Yes, you're right. But who else knows of our quest?"

"No one who would be in the local area. Oh well, I don't think we'll solve this mystery today. Anything on your mind? You keep going quiet."

"Ah, you noticed," said Imthôlion quietly. "It's nothing really, it's just... Well, the further from Lothlorien we get, the more I wish I could step beneath those magnificent trees one more time."

"So, you're having doubts then? I do not think you are the only one," he said, glancing at Duinare. "I have noticed that others have also begun to act differently."

"You are good at reading people's behaviour, Erfalas." Imthôlion and Erfalas said little to each other after this for a while. Talk of doubts was definitely a conversation killer.

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

"You're looking quite pale and worried, my friend," the elf said. Rostion and Firiel turned their heads to Tanroth as well. "Um.. It's just….. I am just tired, that's all," Tanroth said shortly, without explaining in greater details.

"Tanroth," Rostion began. "You worry over the missing horses too much. I don't think the Enemy would have been content in taking two horses. Maybe it's a prank; by whom I don't know. Or maybe a misunderstanding."

"Or I hope I'm right," he turned to Firiel. "Maybe His agents were defeated by the vigilance of Tharbad, and in that way got only two." He uttered a sigh, then continued.

"It'll be a nice Halfling town, the one we'll be passing through. Too bad I only got to see those fair and gladsome folk now, when we depart Middle-earth." He uttered another sigh. He had not known Middle-earth enough.

[ 12:18 AM December 03, 2003: Message edited by: Nilpaurion Felagund ]

[Orofaniel]

Firiel

While Firiel was riding with Rostion. Erfalas was riding with Imthôlion. It seemed alright, because it was strong horses that carried them. But it didn't really matter since the elves are usually light footed.

The atmosphere was heavy, and Tanroth expressed that he was quite tired.

"Tanroth," Rostion said. "You worry over the missing horses too much. I don't think the Enemy would have been content in taking two horses. Maybe it's a prank; by whom I don't know. Or maybe a misunderstanding."

"Or I hope I'm right," Rostion turned to Firiel. Firiel agreed and nodded to show that. She also thought that Tanroth was thinking too much about the missing horses. It didn't really matter after all. It had been alright eventually. The other elves didn’t' seem to care too much about this either.

The conversation continued, but Firiel didn't pay much attention. She didn't know what to say, all she could think about was the Grey Havens and what lay before them.

"So, what comes after Michel delving?" Firiel interrupted. "Pardon..?" Tanroth said and turned his head to Firiel.

"What comes after Michel Delving?" Firiel said again with a loud and clear voice so it would be easier to hear while the horses rode in the wind that blew swiftly.

"Well, when we come to the Westfarthings..." Tanroth took a short break before continuing: "We will probably turn to the Great East Road and then head westwards. We will then...hopefully...reach The Tower Hill. And then....”

"Should we speed up?" Arilewen said from behind. She had been riding like a wind and was now riding next to Tanroth's horse. Tanroth gave a short nod, and turned to the riders that were behind. "Ride now." He said and pointed forwards. "Lets see how fast these fine steeds are able to ride, shall we?" He said and laughed. Firiel smiled and held on tight.

Tanroth had finally lightened up....