View Full Version : The lesser tribe?
Memory rekindled.
Beating the thick foliage back he pressed on deeper in to the forest. The orc cries, although distant, were easily audible despite the noise from the torrential rain. The darkness did not help and his arm now ached from holding aloft the lit staff that he may not constantly trip over the undergrowth. Yet his face had many fresh scratches from thorny brambles and needle sharp twigs.
Just as the rays of dawn began piercing through the forest canopy and the rain began to ease, so too the noises of battle subsided. The trees became sparser and eventually he came upon a clearing. From behind a tree he took in the scene, a good sized party of orcs had been destroyed by the looks, amongst them silently walked, short, pot bellied folk making sure that any who survived would not do so for long.
It was the silent manner in which they continued to finish off the orcs which nudged his memory, rather than their strange and unlovely appearance. A not unpleasant grin slowly formed on his face, eventually becoming silent laughter with slight shaking of the shoulders. Reaching for a pipe under his robe he continued to laugh mildly, thinking how an old fool forgets much even while trying to remember all he has ever known.
It seemed the forest dwellers were capable of looking after themselves and his rush in the direction of the orc cries was unnecessary after all. With his wonderment at the strange but pleasant things of middle earth renewed, he turned away from the scene to continue his journey. Still, over the next millennia he would return a dozen or more times and become known to the folk of the forest, for that was his wisdom, to see the worth of a folk where others did not.
The great shaman, as the forest dwellers came to address the traveller, learnt much of them over the years. Their hatred of the orc was all too apparent, in the zeal with which they hunted them and in the crafting of orc grotesques in terror filled flight from the forest dwellers.
A matter of deep concern had lead him to the record chambers of the White City, where he had learnt much of what he needed to know but not quite enough. A dark shadow was falling again across Middle Earth and his desperate search for a vile, pitiful creature, had brought him here, to the forest. Troubled with recent events, he had not even thought of the forest dwellers as he entered it, until he came upon one of their standing stones. He noted with a smile the stance and location of the guardian had changed from where he last had seen it, with that came insight of one possible unfolding path of events yet to come. He looked back south, from the direction he had come, and let out a low hrumph of disgust and disdain at what lay beyond Gondor!
“Pause and thought here may serve well” he mutterd as he turned his gaze back at the statue.
“Council with the clan lord" he continued to mutter and made deeper in to the forest.
As he entered the village amidst the trees, he quickly drew the attention of some warriors. Laying their weapons behind them they approached him and lowered their heads in respect, as if they knew of him despite never having seen him.
“Welcome oh great shaman, Drug pleased to see you”
The old man offered them his sword in the customary fashion, showing his acceptance of their protection whilst their guest. One of the warriors stepped forward and took the sword, he then looked at the staff and let out rolling belly laugh as if knowing full well that only the lesser weapon had been handed over. Still laughing he stepped back with no hint of annoyance. The old man joined in the laughter, letting it cleanse away his troubles for a while.
As the laughter subsided the warrior spoke again.
“Come great shaman, the clan lord expecting you”
“Hmph expecting me hmm, quite a gift he has”
Soon they were sitting in a primitive looking cross between a hut and a tent. A group of elders and the current clan lord sat around a fire at the centre of the hut. A wild beast of some sort had been roasted and lay on leaves with a lavish scattering of assorted nuts and dried fruits around it. The old man was guided to the right of the clan lord, an honoured seat. The clan lord took a knife, and cut a large piece of meat and offered it to the guest on a large leaf. The old man accepted the food and laid it in front of the clan lord. Once the clan lord had taken the first bite, the rest also tucked in.
As they ate the clan lord looked to the old man and sniffed whilst looking in to his eyes.
“The wind says, much trouble comes”
The old man nodded.
“Yes, although there is time yet for the wind to change”
“Maybe great shaman, but what bring you to Drug Forest?”
The old man looked around at the elders.
“I have come to ask how you fare in your hunt of the orcs”, then he paused, “and if you are still pressed by the Rohirrim”
“We hunt many Orcs, still they grow but Drug not afraid of Orcs. Horsemen still call Pukel-Men and hunt when see us. Drug wish no harm to Horsemen so hide.”
A long silence followed, the old man seemed to be in deep thought, and finally he spoke.
“I fear very urgent matters press on my time for me to do the right thing here. My council, if you will allow me to give it is this. You do the right thing to hide from the Rohirrim, for they know not what evil they do. Yet if the worst happens elsewhere, it is very likely that they may come to rely on you, for this forest is located at such a point that those who may wish it, could hinder the Rohirrim from fulfilling their ancient oath. Others must be reminded of you so that they may at least be aware of you and perhaps offer words in your favour should opportunity arise. Tell me, do your folk remember the ones who named you Druedain?
The clan lord looked up at that, “you speak of noble ones who smiled with Drug?”
“Indeed, that would be one description of them. I think one of your folk should seek out the Lord of the Noble ones. If one of your folk presented himself in person so that your unique gifts and hatred of the orcs could refresh old memories then perhaps your folk will fare better for it”
The clan lord seemed distressed at this suggestion.
“Drug not like outside, will not send warrior outside. Forest spirit protect Drug.”
As he continued to protest a child came and made himself comfortable in his lap.
Affectionately putting his hand on the child’s head he fell silent.
The old man gestured towards the child, “That is your son?”
The clan lord let out a laugh, holding the child up lovingly.
“He, son of my son, name Ghan”
The old man nodded “Then perhaps for him you will reconsider what I have said. I have already delayed too long here and must continue my journey, but speak with the elders and think up on my words.”
The elders gathered without the old man the following day, and for most its was a difficult discussion. To ask a son or daughter of the Drug to leave the forest, probably never to return, was not a pleasant thought. The majority were in decent of the old man’s suggestion, and it seemed as if the clan would continue in its near complete seclusion from the world outside the forest. It was then that revered eldest of the elders spoke with a frail halting voice in his native tongue.
“Tales of the Great Shaman’s visiting’s….hmm.. go back many generations. Always pleasant…hmm... he has been to us….hmm..., seeking to learn our ways and honouring them…hmm....sharing in our laughter and not interfering in our affairs. I know much if not all…hmm...of the tales and…hmm...I recall no tale which speaks of him….hmm.. ever instructing us to do this….hmm…. or not do that, …hmm.... yet all of them tell of his wisdom and…hmm.. his kindness. I think…hmm.. that he has come to us…hmm.. this time…hmm.. with ..hmm.. much trouble on his mind. Have we…hmm… not ourselves…hmm... felt the changing of the wind?. Before…hmm.. any decision is taken…hmm... and our distaste of the ways of those outside our beloved forest cloud our ..hmm.. judgment…hmm… I ask that more weight …hmm… be given to the wisdom of our…hmm… guest. I for one…hmm.., will align myself to his …hmm… wishes.”
As the revered elder finished his talk, and leaned back to catch his breath, so the clan lord himself stood and came to him with a goblet of water. Slowly others murmured their agreement, though some reluctantly and the Great Shaman was invited to join them. Once more he sat to the right of the clan lord who spoke to him in his halting common.
“We agree Great Shaman’s wisdom, council decided greatest of Drug warrior be sent to seek wisdom of noble ones lord as great Shaman say.”
The old man nodded, “I am honoured that the elders and clan lord have seen my words worthy to be taken heed of and I commend their wisdom. I would however ask that you listen to a few more of my words. I urge the council not to seek the mightiest of their warriors for this task, for such are often also set in their ways. One who is young, still curious of the world and quick to learn will be better suited to cope with what lies far beyond the forest .”
The clan lord looked about the council, “then such we will find”.
The old man then took out a small pebble, “This is for the one that you choose, for him to present to the one he goes to seek and serve. I hope it will aid his case.”
The clan lord accepted the pebble and examined it, it was smooth bar for a single letter which he did not know, for the writing and reading of runes was not the way of his folk.
The old men stood and faced the clan lord, “I would now ask to take my leave, for already I have delayed much other matters to which I must give my fullest attention.”
The clan lord stood with him as did the council, and wished him well on his journey. As the old man vanished in to the forest, the clan lord turned to the elders.
“Does any here know of one who fits the words of the Great Shaman?”
After a pause an elder at the back spoke, “There is one, youngest of five he is. Strong, but not yet a seasoned warrior. His parents worry of his constant wanderings, especially to the edge of the forest. Curious he is and already speaks the common tongue, which few of us learn and then not by choice but need.”
The clan lord continued to look in the direction which the Great Shaman disappeared in to, “Call him in front of the council, what is his name?”
I will do as you ask and call for him, he is called Muti-siar-Muti Muti.
It took a while for Muti to be tracked down, he had been sent to collect healing herbs but as usual was late in returning, having been gone for three days according to his mother. He was finally found just inside the western edge of the forest, his curiosity had gotten the better of his fears and he had been watching one of the paths which skirted the forest. Only when he saw two Rohirrim on their steeds, galloping in his general direction did he flee back in to the depths of the forest and so collide in to those who sought him.
“Careful Muti, watch were you go!”
“Oh!, sorry”, he bowed his head low apologetically. “ I thought I had been seen!”
The warriors let out a rolling belly laugh and helped him up.
“You have been seen, by us! Perhaps if you did not come so close to the edge you would not have such worries. But that is not important now, you are called in front of the council and must return with us.”
Noticing the worried look on Muti’s face the warrior let out more laughter and reassured him, “ Do not look so, it is not due to any of your doing that you are called. All will be made clear to you soon.”
Once returned to the village and rested the council gathered with Muti present. The Clan Lord looked at him a while and then spoke.
“Muti, you know the old tales of the noble ones?”
“I know some of them lord, yes”
The Clan Lord gestured for him to sit and continued, “and you are curious of what is beyond the forest?”
With an embarrassed nod Muti nodded, “I am lord, when the fear does not get me!”
“Then you are afraid often?”
Muti answered the only way he could, truthfully. “Not often lord, mostly when I see the horse riders!”
The clan lord nodded, “You need not fear them Muti, even though they hunt us they are not to be feared. We hide not for fear but because we have no wish to fight them. The elders will share their wisdom of the horse riders and many other things should you agree to what we are about to ask of you.”
“I am at the clans and the forests service Lord!”
“Good, then listen well to what we have to say”
So the council explained the task to Muti, and he listened with a mixture of curiosity, delight and apprehension. There was no hesitation from him in agreeing, after all, even if he had not been the curious soul he was, he still would have answered the call of the clan. For the next two weeks he spent most of his time in the company of the elders, they shared with him what lore they had of the outside world, and he tried his best to remember as much as possible. However, none knew where an Elf Lord would be found, except that he should travel west.
Finally the day of his departure came, with tear filled eyes but no regret his mother hugged him and put on his shoulder a bag full of nuts and fruits. His father reminded him that he was to take care whom he trusted, stay clear of the cities of stone and remember to give thanks for what is provided him by the earth under his feet and the sky above his head. His brothers and sister accompanied him to the edge of the forest, from where they said their final farewells and Muti set foot outside the forest, perhaps never to return again.
So begin the quest and adventures of Muti-siar-Muti Muti.
He had travelled west as the elders had said. Following the dirt roads best he could under cover of darkness; seeking shelter in wooded areas during the day. For the first few weeks, he was in a constant state of fear, especially at the sight of any mounted travellers; before he knew it, he had travelled well past the city called Tharbad without encountering anyone.
It was then that his extreme caution failed to serve him. Trying to skirt around a large human village he increasingly got sight of short folk, even shorter than him. His strong sense of smell could hardly detect any orcish odours as he saw more and more of these strange folk. Perhaps it was the astonishment of this that lead to his guard dropping. From just inside a wood he was observing these them when suddenly a large hand passed over his mouth, the force of it allowed no utterance from him and he was quickly dragged back deep in to the woods, despite his struggling.
Swiftly and expertly was he subdued, tied and interrogated!
“Who are you?”
“Me Muti, Muti-siar Muti-Muti”
“What manner of creature are you?, your no orc, yet no man have I seen like you?”
Muti shook his head, trying desperately to think clearly and control his fear, “Muti of Drug folk, Muti not orc.”
“Cant say I have heard of such, why where you spying on the Shire folk?”
“Muti just curious, just look”
“What business do you have here?”
“Muti not say, elders say not trust anyone except ones Muti sent look for”
The human laughed, “is that so, but you are looking for some one, who?”
“Muti not say, Muti already say too much”
“In that case I’m going to have to take you to our leader”
Muti looked pleadingly at the stranger.
“But Muti must go on, Muti not mean harm to anyone, Muti not hurt accept orcs!”
The stranger nodded.
“I sense no malice from you Muti, but I would be remise in my duty if I were to just let you go. We watch for strange happenings and none come stranger than you. No, I think it best you come with me to our camp.”
The man untied Muti’s hands and feet, ensuring his eyes were well covered, and lead him across country, eventually presenting him in front of a tall man.
“I found him on the borders of the Shire, watching the doings of the hobbits near the Brandywine Bridge, I cant get anything out of him that makes sense. In fact he is elusive as to his business in the Shire accept to say that he was curious”
The tall one approached Muti, taking a good look at his features, “he is as he says, yet that makes this even stranger than if he was not.”
He turned to Muti, “What are you doing so far from your lands?”
“Sorry, Muti not say”, with that he clamped his mouth shut with no amount of coaxing getting him to give any information detailing his quest.
The tall one laughed and turned to his companion, “Did you search him?
With a nod the companion laid out Muti’s humble possessions. The tall one briefly examined each, he paused a while at the pebble, clearly interested in the single rune on the stone.
“How did you come by this Muti?”
“Given to Muti by Chief”
“And where did he get it?”
“Muti not know?”
“What’s it’s purpose?”
“Muti not say?”
The tall one frowned, “You’re a clever fellow for sure, and stubborn.”
He stared at the stone a good while longer, then tossed it to Muti and turned abruptly to his companion, “He is no danger to what we watch, give him food and drink, let him rest if he wishes it then provide him with a token so that he is not forced here again and release him”.
Muti sat atop the hill, sheltered from the thrashing rain by the remains of whatever stone structure stood there in the past. Three nights had passed since he had been released by the men who smelt of the wilderness. Three nights and as many days he had sat still as stone; meditating and seeking guidance from the wind on how to proceed. There was never certainty that he would succeed in his task, that much the clan leader had said himself. Three moons had come and gone and he had yet to even see one of the Noble Ones; his mind drifted back to the two weeks before his departure. He had learnt much in that time; how he was to avoid the horse riders but not to fear their steeds, for they were gifted by the great spirit himself; How he was to be mindful in other forests, for the spirit has assigned to each its own protectors; and how he was not to think of all men as just men and all animals as just animals for the form tells little of the spirit inside.
Yet for all that he had been told that was surely important, his mind returned time and time again to the child; as much as he tried to relax and clear his mind, he would see him come and sit in the clan leaders lap. He would then jump out; run around and come sit by Muti, whisper in his ear and run off with that seemingly unnecessary laughter of a child, often lost as the years weigh down on the shoulders. Muti stopped struggling against the image, the howl of the wind subsided as if in agreement and his attention focused on the moment the child whispered in his ear. What did he say that he found so funny? And why was he drawn to it? Was it important?
He tried again to relax; clear his mind of the questions which kept surfacing; slowly…. so slowly, the child’s whispered words made themselves heard to the knowing mind.
“Your going to see small folk with fire in their mouths and happy faces……” followed by the happy laughter.
Muti opened his eyes, the rain still lashed down on the weathered ruins atop of the hill and the wind howled louder, as if declaring its task was done and demanding its due. He stood up, and then prostrated himself in the face of it; thanking the spirit. As he stood up once more, a smile formed on his face; he muttered thanks to the clan lords grandchild, content in the thought that, be he successful or not, his people would continue to be lead by the wisdom and guidance of the spirit in the years to come.
Muti made his way westward through the hills, then struggled through marshy land; his legs aching from travelling through unaccustomed terrain he took rest in a wood to the north of a human village. Then making haste across open ground, eventually entering a small forest, he hesitated; something felt wrong about this place, it seemed to have an anger or resentment about it, as if the trees felt wronged. As he walked through, he could see them move ever so slightly and then back again as if beset by indecision about him. For the first time in his life he felt unsafe amongst the trees, yet these were not things he feared and if time had allowed he would have dwelt a while in the depths of the forest to learn of why it was troubled.
Instead he pressed on to its edge bordering the Shire. From there he once more watched the Shire folk; not knowing what he sought, but sure it was the place to find it. Under cover of darkness he plucked up the courage to enter the Shire proper. The moonless night, the low pulled cowl and the appeasing nature of his kind, served him well; despite the wilderness smell about him. In time he came upon a place from which much noise of laughter and song spilt out; the air from inside it was filled with smoke; the jovial laughter beckoned Muti to enter.
He stepped in, trying not to cough from the smoke; looking around with the cowl still pulled low, the cheer of the place put him at ease. The place was bustling with hobbits, young and old. None seemed alone or left out, and were it not for the ceiling blocking the sky, with eyes closed the laughter would have made Muti seem back in the Druadan amidst his people; he missed them so! He shook his head and put the precious memories away for another time.
From the constant shouting in her direction, a young female hobbit by name of Rosie seemed to be in charge.
Muti approached her.
“excuse Miss.”
“ROSIE! two more beers here lass,” followed by laughter.
“ROSIE! refills please”, and more cheerful laughter.
Rosie turned to Muti, “Oh just one moment master dwarf, I’m right rushed off my feet tonight I am, why don’t you take that seat there and I will be right with you!”
Muti nodded and sat down, getting the occasional glance but certainly nothing that showed concern about him.
Rosie returned, “Sorry to keep you waiting Master Dwarf, what can I get for you?”
“Mut not Naug…erm, Muti have that,” he pointed at a couple of very young hobbits drinking beer.
“You sure sir? We have something stronger for the occasional dwarven trader. Wouldn’t want you speaking ill of hobbit hospitality, ”
“No, no Muti have that”
As Rosie went to get him his drink, the two young hobbits approached him with grins on their faces!
The tall one gestured jovially to the sack by Muti’s side, “So, what you selling then?”.
Muti looked up, allowing a glimpse of his face; “Muti not selling”
“Well with a face like.. er.. never mind, go on, lets see what you got in that sack?”
“Muti innocently leaned over and picked out a small statues of an orc in terror filled flight”
The tall one jumped back, “Good lord, that’s enough to make good beer go bad… how much!”
“Huh?”
The short one gestured to the statue, “How much you want for it?, it should make for some nice erm… jokes”
“Muti not want anything!”
“Don’t want anything eh! hmm, never heard of dwarves giving away stuff! but Jolly good, we’ll take the lot then”
As Muti protested that he wasn’t selling anything, the two hobbits pulled up chairs and made them selves comfortable at his table. Rosie returned with Muti’s ale.
“That will be a farthing please Sir”
Muti leaned forward to the two hobbits, “what is farthing?”
The two hobbits laughed, “Just pay her Mister, stop winding poor Rosie up, she gets enough of that from us!” With that they burst out in to more half drunken laughter.
Realising what she wanted Muti rummaged through his pack and pulled out a small nugget of gold “Muti have this?”
Rosie began to protest “But sir that is far more than you owe”
“Muti not need”
“Well, no; tell you what, come back and pay when you have sold it. I just couldn’t take that. Would be near enough robbery! ”
Muti nodded, put the nugget back and took a sip of his drink. The two hobbits grinned at him, “Now then Mr.. Muti is it? about that statue; will nothing make you part with it?”
Muti shook his head, “Only for protect, not for give. But Muti need help find Noble ones, Muti make one not for protect, if help Muti find Noble ones”
“The two hobbits looked at each other, Noble Ones?”
Muti nodded, “Noble ones, called elves.”
They looked at each other again, “WOODY END!”
“Well, we erm, we maaay be able to help you if we can come to some.. sort of arrangement!, you say you can make one for us?”
Muti nodded.
“Right then! We want it made of us like this!”
The two of them stood side by side, beers in the left hand of one and the right hand of other, putting free arms around each others shoulders, they raised their ales and made a cheers gestures.
“Can ye do that!”
With a contagious laugh Muti nodded, “Muti can do!”
“How long?”
“Muti think Muti come back in two nights.”
“Right, we’ll meet you here in two nights then.”
With that they did an abrupt about turn, spilling ale as they did, and trotted off to another table, with loud and cheerful singing. Muti finished his drink and made his way back to his temporary home.
Two nights later he returned, his part of the bargain complete, the two hobbits were most impressed with the crafting and true to their word, informing him that any hobbit fond of seeing elves would spend much time in Woody End; although most thought it just rumours and few who claimed to have seen elves were believed. Muti got directions from them, bowed clumsily and set out for Woody End.
Tall trees grew in the place called Woody End but not so tall to make it dark and unwelcoming. Light broke through often in beautiful rays, adding its own twinkle to the forest floor to dazzle the eyes with; a gentle breeze swayed the leaf laden branches to and fro and brushed against the cheeks in a gentle and inviting caress. Small animals roamed freely, going about their business with little fear; the odd badger sniffed inquisitively at toes and birds filled the air with song.
One of the Noble One’s sat in a clearing, conversing with two others at his feet. The light played upon their so as to surround them with a glow, and the wind carried their voice far; yet soft was the sound from their lips. They turned their heads towards Muti, and one beckoned him come closer. He approached with a joy filled heart and knelt before the one who had beckoned. Hands gently touched his shoulders and pulled him up.
“I am Gildor, and you have no need to kneel before me Drueadain kin, I would hear the tale which brings one like you so far?”
Muti stood up, “Muti much honoured to be here. Elders send Muti find Lord of Noble ones. Muti offer skills and service and hope Lord of Noble ones help Muti clan.”
Much did Gildor learn of the war the Druedain waged against the orcs in their forest, and of the dangers they faced from the horse lords. Little was their to doubt in Muti’s words, yet if such there was it was swept away by the contents of the small leather wrapped parchment which Muti produced. Were it not for the lady and child who had joined Muti just outside Woody End; no doubt Gildor would have discussed the matter in greater depth. As it happened, the one called Kix had a far darker tale to tell; one of vile deeds and choices bereft of right and wrong; accept the lesser of two evils for the love of a child.
Gildor placed a ring in Muti’s palm; for all to know him as a friend, and in doing so directed Muti and the Lady Kix to Lord Elrond of the Valley of Rivendell; one in the pursuit of his quest and the other for safe haven, above all else. Kix as the guide to the secret paths to the Valley, Muti as protector of mother and child. Such was the wisdom of Gildor, and so it was agreed.
The following morning, preparations were made and supplies provided. Muti approached Gildor, bowing in his clumsy fashion with a small statue in hand and solemn look on face. He presented the small Druedain, crouched with club in hand and in protective stance, to Gildor. A humble gift accepted graciously by the Noble elf. With that the path finder and the guardian said there goodbyes and set of for council with Lord Elrond.
Muti lay on his back, looking up at the stars; the way they twinkled reminded him of the strangeness he had perceived of the Noble One, the one called Glorfindel. If he relaxed his gaze he felt close to them; yet if he concentrated on the star and tried to comprehend it, the twinkel just turned it in to a distant light and no more, forever beyond his reach. When just accepting his presence; this Noble One, he was like those twinkling stars, as if here, but twinkling elsewhere too; Try as he might though, when he looked at him he was just like the others; it seemed some things he was just not meant to understand.
Osbearn had lead them well, and the Graet Spirit had blessed them with much courage; all of which they had needed to overcome the shaman, who despite their efforts had done something to the child in the care of the Lady Kix. The child was not itself anymore, they had come too late; just as the shaman had boasted. It was good that they decided not to take the child to the valley; it would not do well to be in the disfavour of The Noble Lord Elrond. So if the child could not be taken to the Noble Lord then one of them would perhaps come to it; even the naugrims Nalnain and Azaghil seemed to at last agree to this as did the Noble One Glenia.
He had come in much haste riding a great white horse. Quickly he gave commands to those gathered; which they took but for suggestions and requests. Before Muti knew it, The Noble Lord Glorfindel was riding off again with the child in his arms; leaving those behind convinced that the child went to safety and a far better future.
Muti remembered little of the detail now; strange how the beauty and grace of the stars can make the detail seem insignificant.
Darkness slowly came, Muti lay on the soft leaf covered ground and turned his head towards Helluin. The Noble One Validriel had looked upon the stars and spoken of them with such tenderness and feeling as if they were the very soul of her. Did they all feel as such about them? Or was this the particular love of those who served the Noble Lady Galadriel; as Validreil had said she did? Strange that she should look upon the stars in such a way; that which provides no food for the empty belly nor water for the dry throat. They are wise, of that he had no doubt, but the understanding of this escaped him; perhaps they have a hatred of the dark such that even such light as from the stars is welcomed like a loved one in to arms; momentarily dispelling all fears and worries from the mind.
He turned over to get more comfortable. She had talked to him long and then done him the great honour of introducing him to the Noble Lord Elrond. It was a brief meeting, requiring little talk from him; just as well for he could barely stand from the shaking of his legs, let alone offer detailed explanations. Fortunately once he had handed over that which (http://forums.wireplay.co.uk/showthread.php?p=3294374#post3294374) he had carried from the elders it seemed no more was required of him. The Noble Lord Elrond had been kind and soft spoken but offered no more than a promise to consult with his advisors and councils on that which the parchment asked. For now, all Muti could do was wait.
Moving fast, crouched position, club in hand. Stop! Deep inhale of air. Yes, Gorgun! Near water! Slight change of direction, moving fast, maintaining cover, remaining small. Stop! Deep inhale of air, listen far, slight change of direction. Moving fast, getting closer, slowing down, Stop! Listen! Moving water! Very near!
Slowly creeps forward, pulls foliage carefully apart, strains neck slightly and peeks through. Three Gorgun, taking water. Looks around for more. Listens! Inhales! Satisfied. Judges distance. Prepares. Silently charges! Gorgun look back at sound of feet. Shocked! Fumble for weapons! To late! Flury of impacts with full length arm swings. Assailant lifted off feet by hate filled energy of strikes. Two Gorgun fall; faces down in stream. Third seeking escape; not to happen. Club strikes knee! Crack of breaking bone! Howl of pain! Upward strike below the jaw! Falls! Then silence.
Muti looked at the fallen orcs with deep gasps of air! The rage slowly leaving him. He walked up to each of them and checked for signs of life; finishing off those still alive. Satisfied, he vanishes back in to the forest, eventually returning to his makeshift home, and sitting down to eat the gathered nuts and berries. As calmness returned to him, his thoughts turned to what the Noble One Galia had suggested to him. That the stars spoke to the Noble Ones as the wind sometimes spoke to the Drug, they sought wisdom from them. Wisdom from the stars; it was not surprising now that he knew it. Did the stars not see everything from so high up, and there were so many; perhaps one watched each living thing. Just like the wind touched everything and carried a memory; you had but just to listen. Perhaps you had to but just watch the stars and look. Drifts off to sleep.
The Noble Lord had called for Muti; with soft kind words he had greeted him and suggested they sit by the fire. As he made himself comfortable on a chair, Muti eagerly sat on the floor, to the coveted right of The Noble Lord. Muti watched and listened in wide eyed delight, oblivious to the subtle interrogation; how he felt to be away from his kin? How much he knew of the reasoning of the Great Shaman in the advice to his elders? What Muti thought his own purpose was in being sent to The Valley?
To all these Muti gave honest answers as best he knew them; He felt a sense of loss to be away from home, even sorrow when he let his mind dwell on it. But he knew his duty and the elders will would be done for he had great trust in them. His own purpose in being sent, he knew little of other then to serve The Noble Ones as was called for. Of the Great Shaman he also knew little, other than what the elders told him and that was little more than he already knew from the tales and songs.
After much talk and inquiry from the Noble Lord in this manner, he informed Muti that he was free to live in the woods surrounding The Valley according to his own customs, as that would continue to please The Great Spirit. No more would be asked of him than what already came naturally to him; the caring of the woods and its inhabitants; the hunting of orcs and giving thanks for his successes. From time to time his skills may be called upon in matters other than this, but theses would be no commands for him to obey; the decision would be his. More than that though, the Noble Lord was keen for Muti to share, with the lore masters of The Valley, what knowledge he brought of the ways of his people.
Muti, humbled by the kindness shown and deeply touched that ones so wise should seek knowledge of the ways of his kin, stood and bowed. As emotions of joy and gratitude welled up in him he fought to stop his voice breaking and pledged to serve the Noble Ones as if they were elders of his clan. What tales and songs of his folk he could remember he would share most happily. Requests made of him, small or large, he would fulfil all he could; for nothing more would give him greater joy.
As the talk slowly came to a natural close he was given leave to go out of the Valley; to learn of the land which most likely would be his home for the years left to him.
Not long after, Muti returned to The Valley proper, intent on making a start to fulfilling the later part of his agreement. He approached one of the noble ones and bowed in has clumsy fashion and spoke of his readiness to share one of the old tales. The Noble One smiled and instructed him to find a spot where he would like to sit while he went and spread the news, in particular to those who made such lore their concern. Muti made himself comfortable and it was not long before a small crowd had gathered. Muti stood and gave his thanks to the Noble Ones for having and allowing him the honour to recite to them a little of his folks traditions. He let it be known that the tale he was about to tell was one often told to children and one which had served him well on his own travels, and so he began......
At a time when the Noble Ones and those calling themselves the Children of Mahal visited the Drug often, a young Drug by name of Tafo, seeking to become a shaman sought the wisdom of one of his elders already learned in such ways. The elder bade him enter his dwelling and asked why he wished to learn that which he sought to learn and to what end?
Young Tafo, was clear of his reasons. He had observed the Noble Ones; they were wise and could do many things which his kin could not and so he wished to become more like them. To him it seemed the shamans of his kin came closest in matching the wisdom and magics of the Noble Ones. Thinking himself not worthy of their attention Tafo reasoned that if he could become a shaman of his folk then he may more easily approach the Noble Ones and converse with them in the hope that he may become like them.
The elder listened patiently as only elders can, and then beckoned Tafo to come sit by his side. A fire was soon lit before them and it was not long before they were shrouded in thick smoke. The elder directed Tafo’s attention to a break in the smoke. A seedling fell to the ground, days went by and the seedling became covered by earth, eventually breaking through the soil and as the seasons passed it grew to a grand height. Birds came and nested in it, men and animals came and collected the fruit it dropped and the smaller creatures took shelter under it when the rains came. As the years pressed on, the now ancient tree fell and men came to it still; chopping it and crafting from it what they needed, using the rest as kindling for cold nights with the ashes scattered back to the earth whence they came.
As the smoke closed in on the scene the elder directed Tafo’s attention to a newly forming clearing in the smoke. A large rock rolled down a hill, coming to rest just inside a forest. Animals came to investigate it, some using it to scratch their backs, others using it to mark their domain. In time moss grew upon it, fires came and went destroying and renewing the forest but the rock remained amidst all the change and soon the smoke once more began to draw in on the scene.
The elder directed Tafo’s attention to yet another gap in the smoke. A group of orcs were on the rampage in a human village, his attention focused on one particular orc, their eyes met and Tafo felt him self drawn in to the very being of it. Its mind was filled with hatred and the intense desire to destroy and inflict pain, buried deep beneath all this was something else; envy, bitterness, resentment. All directed at what it could never be, and what it could never be it would not allow to be, so the destruction continued until all the orcs were struck down by warriors.
The smoke gave way, the elder shook him by the shoulder and as Tafo came to his senses a cloth was pressed in to his hands to wipe away the sweat and former contents of his stomach.
“Explain what you saw and tell me what you learnt Tafo?”
Tafo paused and thought a long while, and when he spoke there was a wizened turn to his words.
“The tree grew and changed over many years, never seeking to be other than what it was. It was content with its place in the world, knowing that it served the land and its inhabitants not only from the fruit it produced but by its very existence and even in death. Unlike the tree, the rock did not grow or provide food or shelter, it stood for centuries in the same spot as all around it the cycle of birth and death continued ceaselessly. Yet it also was content in serving the land and its occupants in its humble but never the less important manner. The orc stands apart from all else, being a creature of malice and destruction and it is for ever driven to even greater evil by the envy, bitterness and resentment of what it can never be, in so doing it serves not the land and even turns on its own kind.”
The elder nodded, “and what do we learn from these whispered gifts of the wind?”
“To be content like the tree and the rock, so that we may be as one with the land and our kin, to seek to serve the land and care for all living things and not overly concern ourselves with what we are not, but rejoice in what are. In so doing we not only honour the creating spirit but also all that it has created thus we also avoid the fate of the orc which seeks destruction of all and is fuelled by resentment of what it can never again be.”
The elder nodded, “You have spoken well and what you have spoken is true, yet a lifetimes worth of contemplation and meditation resides in what you have seen. With this knowledge a shaman you already are, the rest will come to you in time as the wind wishes to reveal it and as your heart opens to receive it.”
So ended Muti’s first sharing of the ways of his folk.
Muti settled down under the makeshift shelter erected against the huge tree and pondered what he had just agreed to. The Noble Ones planned an expedition to the Great Chief of the Horse Lords and then on to the Forest which in his heart still he called home. This was certainly an unexpected turn of events, he had not thought that the Noble Ones would act so directly or promptly with the needs of his folk when the wind hinted at matters vague but more pressing of their attentions.
He removed leaves and twigs from a nearby spot and recovered some nuts wrapped within cloth from the depths of a hole in the ground. He scooped a handful of nuts out and wrapped and returned the remainder back to the little store. Munching away at the nuts he returned to his thoughts. Off all the things he looked forward to, he imagined most the warmth of his mother’s arms and the belly laugh of his father when the forest blessed them with meat. As for his brothers and sisters, no doubt they would find his smell changed and not at all what they were used to, but no less would be their love for him.
He was also certain the elders would receive the Noble Ones and any others in the company with welcome, even though it had been many years since anyone other than the Great Shaman had visited them thus. No, this was the lesser of his worries; he only hoped that he would be received well by the Horse Lords and their Graet Chief. There were many songs of the unreasonableness and arrogance of some men and how they and those who associated with them came to downfall. Songs which the Drug learnt well and so too the lesson they taught. Muti trusted in the wisdom of the of the Noble Ones and the elders who sent him, that he was not bringing more attention to his folk than was prudent; for the wind itself was silent on the matter.
The nex day they set off from the Valley, the company was not large but it was clear to Muti that though few in number, those who had agreed or been chosen to escort him to the Horse Lords Lands were accustomed to travel and danger. This was no less apparent when nearing the end of the second day they were set upon by Gorgun. The Noble Ones and the man with them; who smelt of wilderness, made short work of the attackers. All the while ensuring that they remained as much as possible between the Gorgun and Muti, despite whose efforts to join the combat, all that was left for him to do was walk around and make sure non of the fallen Gorgun still lived, as was the way of his people.
It was not long after this encounter that they were on a track travelling south and east, a path Muti recognised as having travelled himself under cover of darkness when his journey had first begun, and to the west of which lay a large stone city. At that time, his heart had froze, and his body was as still as stone on hearing the sounds of hooves. He had learnt much since then, but even now he would not have dared to travel these tracks alone for fear of being attacked as a Pukel, and in return inflicting violence on any other than Gorgun. No such fears burdened his heart and mind on this occasion, for he was being guided by the Noble Ones and he had much trust and love for them.
All this and more he thought of on the journey, even as the Noble Ones and the man discussed matters of which he had little knowledge or understanding. It was a wondrous journey, no more was taken from the land than was needed and the land gave freely. Many were the animals which lived off this land and none seemed startled on their passing, for did the spirit not speak to them and tell them of those who wished them ill intent and those who sought no more from them then was just.
But it was the fall of night to which Muti came to look forward to most, and especially those when the sky was clear and the Noble Ones looked up to the stars and sang the most soothing and restful melodies he was likely to ever hear. When such pleasures are being had, time is like but sleep, no sooner have you shut you’re eyes then it is time to awaken from the dreaming and wonder what more the spirits may have shown you. So it was with this journey, over before Muti had learnt even the least there was to know of what the Noble Ones sang of. Not too far he could see a wall atop a hill, this he was told was Edoras, home to the Great Chief of the Horse Lords, who resided in a golden hall, and that they would be at the city gates before the setting of the sun.
They made their way up the hill, as they got close enough to have clear view of the gates, Alasse called them to a halt and turned to Validriel; asking of her to enter the city and secure safe entry for Muti. As Validriel disappeared behind the city walls, Alasse approached Muti, who stood a little to the back; laying a comforting hand on his shoulder she spoke to him.
“Muti do not be worried, when you come before the Rohirrim stand proud, Theoden is a wise King and he will listen to what you have to say.”
Muti straightened with a nod and looked up to her, “Muti will try not to worry.”
Alasse nodded and patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, then turned to converse with the others.
Validriel was not long gone, and returned with one Captain Damas. It was clear that he was familiar with many of the company, greeting them with a friendly politeness before turning his attentions to Muti, who still stood quietly a little to the back. Validriel introduced him and beckoned him with a reassuring smile to come stand before the Horse Lord. Muti stepped forward, pulled back his hood and looked up briefly to the Horse Lord so that he got full view of his face; for he knew full well how some of the Horse Lords referred to the Drug. He then bowed in his clumsy fashion and offered a greeting. The Horse Lord stood a while and considered the Drug, then turned to Validriel.
“You will understand our folk are not accustomed to having a Pukel-man in their midst, I have you’re assurance that he will be guided appropriately by yourselves and avoid activity in the city which may cause disturbance?”
Validriel gave a slight nod and spoke with the calmness and understanding for which she had become renown whilst subtly ensuring that the captain understood it was not the Drug he be concerned about .
“We will give guidance to Muti as you have requested, although you will find no malice from him towards your folk and all that need be avoided are any possibilities of misunderstandings from all quarters. It is in light of such that we are here and are eager that no more should occur.”
Captain Damas nodded, “Then you may enter the city and seek entry to Meduseld for audience with the King.”
So the company entered Edoras, Muti once more having covered his face with the hood, and they continued a winding climb up the hill to The Golden Hall.
Before the great doors of Medusald, Validriel and Alasse spoke to the captains who stood guard there. As they conversed and sought entry, Muti looked at the land below. Edoras was not as he had expected it, he had imagined it to be less a place of nature and one where the spirits would find little to rejoice over. This was certainly not the case and he berated himself for having conjured images in his mind of a people and land of whom he had little wisdom. Many huts and dwellings he could see from where he stood, and although it was not the way of his kin to build such things, these dwellings did not seem to burden the land. The smell of the wilderness had not been driven away and he sensed that these people retained a kinship with land which would please the spirits.
He turned his attention back to the conversation just as they were given permission to enter the Hall. As he did so he was surprised to see how big it was, certainly the largest building he had ever been in, yet it did not feel strange. He followed the example of the Noble Ones and went and bowed before the one who was clearly the Chief or King as they called him. With him stood two other horse lords and a lady. The King greeted all those who had accompanied Muti as if he knew of them, and it was not long before he was fully appraised of the purpose of this visitation. The Noble Ones introduced Muti and spoke of the nature of the Drug, of their hatred of the orcs and how at times they were hunted by the Horse Lords. It was quickly agreed that the hunting of the Drug was not intentional, often resulting from Rohirrim giving chase to fleeing orcs and coming across the Drug, whom they did not easily recognise as apart from orcs, especially in the heat of the chase.
The King then turned to Muti.
“On occasion, I learn of reports from villages bordering the Druadan Forest of small goblins stealing eggs and such, is it possible these are your young ones?”
Muti nodded.
“Once in many moons, maybe one young one go and never come back, and when hunters search for young ones, them find tracks leaving forest. Maybe happen as Great Chief of Horse Lords say. Sometimes hunger of young ones to know of things is more than worry of danger that might come. Sometimes this hunger make young ones forget of teachings of elders. Also Drug not think gift of nature belong to man, and maybe drug children not know they do wrong to Horse Lords if they take what belong to them. So Muti think perhaps sometimes Drug young ones do as Great Chief of Horse Lords say.”
The King looked at him, then the others and finally returned his gaze to Muti.
“Well Muti, if this is happening, then it has to stop.”
Muti nodded his agreement and the King continued.
“For my part I am eager to stop our Riders from mistaking your folk for orcs, although in the heat of battle how this is to be done I cannot fathom. So, I ask you all to remain as my guests here so that together we may come to a solution to this unfortunate problem and so that when you do leave, you do so with good will between our peoples.”
All agreed to the wisdom of the King and thanked him for the audience. Some then took their leave and others lingered a while longer in the Great Hall, all pondering to a lesser or greater extent the problem set before them.
The next time they stood before the King in the Great Hall, still no solution made itself apparent on how the Rohirrim would distinguish between Druedain and orc when pursuit of orcs took them in to the dim lit forest. As Sereg, Eleri, Alasse and the Kings advisors discussed the matter, it eventually came to Muti that perhaps there was no need for the Horse Lords to try and distinguish between his folk and orcs. He took a few steps forward and asked if he could speak.
The King nodded, “speak Muti.”
Bowing in his clumsy fashion Muti began.
“Great Chief of Horse Lords, Drug have great hatred of orcs, when Drug know of orcs in forest then Drug hunt them until none be alive any more. Muti think that perhaps Drug watch for when Horse Lords hunt orc and orcs run in to forest. When orcs run in to forest, then Drug hunt and make sure all orc dead and then no need for Horse Lords to enter forest. If Horse Lords not enter forest then not think Drug as orc and then no Drug be killed.”
The King nodded and on further discussion with the elves agreed that no Rohirrim would enter the forest when in pursuit of orcs so long as the Druedain ensured that no orc entering the forest would live. Sereg suggested that some exchange of gifts or trade at the edge of the forest may be beneficial to better understanding between the two folks, but there was concern that because of the reclusive nature of the Druedain, this may not be something they would wish. Still it was agreed that this would be put to the elders and should they not wish direct contact, perhaps they would agree to leaving foods of the forest at an agreed spot and in turn the Rohirrim would leave for the Druedain such things as they may find useful.
With the main concerns having been dealt with, all that remained was for the company to travel to the Druadan Forest and seek a gathering with the Druedain elders. The King bade them stay in Edoras for as long as they needed and wished them a safe journey for when they departed. After another nights rest the company set off for the Druadan Forest, an air of excitement about all them; for some the expectation of learning more of a new folk, for others the anticipated satisfaction of peaceful resolution to a dilemma, and for Muti the simple excitement of returning to family and kin, once more to bathe in the smells, sights and sounds of where he grew up and ran free.
As they entered the forest Muti already felt as if he had never left. It was not long before they came upon his folks dwellings and they were soon ushered before one of the elders. No sooner had they been introduced that the Druedain drums were heard alerting of orcs nearby. The company offered its aid and this was welcomed; for many of the warriors and the Chief were away on a hunt and the orcs had managed to press deep in to the Druedain abode. With the aid of the elves and Ashal the human, it was not long before the last of the orcs had fallen.
The Druedain set about clearing the area of the battle aftermath and the elder gestured the company to sit by him. As they settled down, he called for food to be brought and then asked of the company the reason for their arrival. The elves explained this in detail and with considerable patience of the many questions of the elder. The reasons for Muti’s Journey and the visitations of the Graet Shaman were talked of at length and the proposals from Edoras discussed; to which eventually the elder agreed.
Talk then turned to the recent orc incursion so deep in to the Druedain camp.
“They come more often now” the elder said, “we kill many but their number seems never to grow smaller. It is difficult to go on the hunt without leaving our homes open to attack.”
To this Eleri enquired,
“Do you know where they come from?”
“They come from cave in mountains and act not like orcs we hunt for many seasons in the past.”
After much deliberation the elves asked if they could be shown where the cave was, and a brief rest later the company set off to investigate the source of the increased orc activity.
As they approached the cave, Alasse suggested that Validriel and Ashal take to the front; with herself, Muti, Anor and Eleri following behind. No sooner had they entered the cave that they were set upon by orcs, but Validriel and Ashal had seen many such charges before; feet firmly rooted to the ground they cut many of the orcs down before any even approached striking distance of the company behind. It was not long before some of the orcs were fleeing and the company pressed deeper in to the caves, clearing in similar fashion until no more orcs were to be found. A search of the place gave no clues to whence the orcs came from, though the design and make of the armour and weapons hinted strongly to the elves of their nature and origin. With all in their power accomplished they made back to the Druedain.
The elder was gladdened by the news that at least for a time his folk would not be threatened as they had been recently, and asked them to rest until their wounds at least had mended. To this the elves agreed with some talk that after their rest they may consider travelling to Minas Tirith to inform the Steward of what they had seen. There was brief discussion of what was to happen with Muti and soon it was agreed by all that he would return to The Valley, but there was time enough for that and they noted Muti looking at them with a smile.
“Muti be most honoured if Noble Ones would meet and stay with Muti family”
The elves smiled and asked him to lead on.
Muti then turned to Ashal,
“Man Ashal welcome to come also.”
He then lead them some ways to a modest shelter set against a huge tree. As they approached, a female Druedain ran to Muti and he hugged her with all his might. After a long while she let him go and looked to the elves with a smile on her face; Muti introduced each of them and Ashal to his mother, who in her own tongue welcomed them to her home, gesturing them to come sit under the shelter. Even as they all made themselves comfortable, Muti’s father, brothers and sister approached; two of the men with small rabbits slung over their shoulders. Muti stood and embraced each one, with much thumping of backs and then introduced them to his companions. Those elves who understood the Druedain were soon talking to them, eager to learn of them, and the Druedain eager to listen to the tales of the Noble Ones.
Food was soon ready and as it was placed before the elves, small heads started poking around from tree trunks. Young Druedain curious about their guests. Muti’s father looked to the elves, and as he noticed them smiling to the young ones he gestured for them to enter and let them sit and share in the meal.
The meal finished, the chatter continued for some time. Eleri had been quite taken by the interest and curiosity of the young ones and looked about for a little clearing. With a smile she gestured them to follow, which they did with much laughter and no hint of hesitation. There she began telling them a tale and in so doing called upon her gifts. Each moment of excitement in the story accompanied by a spectacular show of lights and illusion. The young ones listened and watched with gasps at each display as the story stretched in to the night. Muti sat back, content that at least this night all was well with his kin and that the spirits would be pleased.
vBulletin® v3.7.3, Copyright ©2000-2008, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.