IC Post of the Month (ARCHIVE)

[timppako]

10th Day

The ship was not ready to sail yet, so we decided to stroll through the countryside. Glaín found out that Nûr was with the caravan and is now mad at me. We’ve not talked much about anything since that. How can I explain to him how embarrased I was and afraid to tell it to him. But now I have to live with this situation and endure his silent treatment. I think it will not take too long for him to start talking to me, but I’m afraid it will be yelling for a some time…

The morning was pretty and the Sun shone upon us in the clear sky, as we strolled through the countryside. It surely lifted my mood, but Glaín has never thought much of nature. Soon we entered upon a macabre scene: dead cattle and people scattered around a devasteted farmhouse! We quickly rushed upon the scene and found the marks on the bodies still quite fresh. And suddenly we found a woman sobbing over a dead man’s body. How it teared my heart to see someone grieving like that. She told us that something big had attacked them in the night, killed everyone it found and then just few hours before sunrise left. We promised her to find that beast and take revenge on it. Luckily it had left easy trail for us to follow and they lead us to a cave near by. We readied our weapons and entered and found a disturbing sight: a troll was there feasting upon the corpses! Our anger burned red hot as we attacked the beast! It fought back with viscious strenght, but we stroke it down and made sure it would never bother a living soul anymore. I do not know how much comfort the woman took from our news. The Sun was setting as we left the farm after we helped her to bury her family...

-FF

[timppako]

11th through 17th Day

We started our long trip to north as the ship raised it’s sails in the early hours of morning. The journey was long and hard for us. Glaín spent most of the time under the deck, but I spent some times on the deck watching the as the coastline gradually changed into a frozen wasteland. But I could not bear the ships swaying for long and always had to go down below. We did not talk much and when we did we talked mostly about finding this Ezra.

Then we arrived to the frozen lands of the lossoth. There was ice and snow as far as our eyes could see. There was a small trading camp where the ship anchored. Dried fish and seal meat hung everywhere and their smell encircled us as we walked into the camp. The local folk were generally decent and welcomed us with hospitality. As they offered us their generosity we asked about Ezra from them discretely. They had not seen anyone who would fit the description we knew of him. Glaín turned out to be very fond of the meat and drinks they offered and indeed they were good! So there we sat and exchanged songs and tales long into the night.

The next morning they approached us with some disturbing tales. A group of them had travelled near the mountains and encountered some terrible two legged beasts. The beasts had scattered their group and only few of them managed to travel back to the camp. The locals seemed to get very afraid of these news and not even the worry for their lost comrades would not make them go and search for them. We promised to help them, find the lost kinsman and take a look of these strange beasts.

The mountains were close and the weather was favourable to us. As we arrived at the foothills we started to look for any clues of the group, looked for tracks and searched for any cave we found, for they are a good place to seek shelter from the weather. It did not took long as we went into a cave where we found hastily built barricades that were badly broken. It was quiet in there, only the wind howled behind our backs as we readied our weapons and entered the cave. Inside we found bloodmarks and other marks of battle. And soon we found the dead bodies of the lossoth. They must've tried to defend themselves against the beasts, but their efforts were in vain. Our spirits fell a little, but now at least we knew what happened to them. We built a stony grave for them and said little prayers to ease their passage. As we were leaving we heard something moving near the entrance of the cave. We advanced cautiously, but we were still supriced as a huge bear lunged at us! It must have smelled the corpes and was after an easy meal and now we were caught between it and it's meal. We cut it down quickly, I was not happy about it, but it left us no other choice...

We continued to look for any marks of these beasts, for now we both were filled with a burning desire to revenge the unfortunate lossoth. It took few hours for us to find another cave and this one had strange tracks around it. We knew we found what we were looking for and charged in yelling our battlecries! We took the strange dog-like beasts in surprice and cleaved them down very quickly. The beasts wore strange symbols on their crude armours. It was unknown to us so we took one with us, to show it to the lossoth. We left the bodies to the wolves and started to head back to the camp under the darkening, starlite sky...

-FF

Ps. I feel Glaín is slowly forgiving me my mistake...

[timppako]

18th Day

We arrived to the camp in the early hours of morning. The journey under the stars was amazing. How there were beautiful lights dancing in the sky. Even Glaín was impressed by them! We told our sad news to the lossoth and they grived for the loss of their kinsman, but they did not have high hopes of their survival in the first place.

We showed the mark we found to a man called Nildar, who was their loremaster. He did recognize it as a mark of an ancient enemy, who lived in the north and warred against the Kingdom of Arnor. Angmar it was called. The Free Peoples had long ago vanquished the evil from the north, but not before it destroyed the Kingdom of Arnor. This was very disturbing news to them, for they feared the return of the evil. Nildar told us that not far away from the camp there was a old tomb where, according to legends, are some servants of Angmar buried. They were very afraid that those foul creatures are from that tomb and would mean the return of evil and oppression to their people. We were moved by their fear and promised to go and take a look at this tomb.

So we took a quick rest and replenished our supplies and then we were again on our way. The weather stayed clear and we were able to travel fairly quickly. We were travelling in a small valley when Glaín suddenly heard growling ahead of us. Wolves!, he cried and we managed to prepare ourselves before two of them were upon us. Glaín quickly stroke down one and then the other ran whimping away, when I stroke him with my mace. As we were leaving the place a young cub appeared and my heart sunk. It seems all the wolves were trying to do was to protect their cubs. As we tried to carefully approach it, it ran away. “Well nothing can be done now”, said Glaín. “Let the nature take it's course”... And so we moved on, but our hearts felt slightly heavier...

Soon we got near the place Nildar told us and so we started to look for an entrance to this tomb. But what we found were few goblins! We quickly killed them, before they could summon more help, for undoubtedly they were only a small scouting force and more was near. And then the weather turned on us! Dark clouds quickly filled the sky, wind started to howl and snow and ice flew in the air. We started to seek shelter from the storm before it was too late and it would bury us. As we followed the edge of the mountains we felt an eerie precense following us. We saw witchfires burning in the distance and saw dark shapes in the storm and heard foul whispers in the howling wind. Glaín stopped in his tracks and I saw fear in his eyes and felt it also in my heart. But we could not stop or the storm would take us! So I started to sing about Durin the Deathless and the founding of Khazad-dûm and it lifted our spirits and we made our way to a dark opening ahead of us.

When we stepped in we found ourselves inside a tomb! And the eerie presence felt very strong in there. It was the place we were looking for and there was definetly something stirring in there. So we started to carefully make our way deeper into the tomb. There were whispers in the air and shadowy shapes in the corner of our eyes, that were not there when we turned to look. At last we made our way to a room that had strange writings in it and as we started to look into the writing, a hell broke loose! Witchfires burned brightly around us and dark figures lunged against us from the shadows! We were taken by a surprice and tried to make fierce resistance, but the shadows managed to seperate us from eachothers. I felt foul hands touching my chest and felt my spirit been drained from my body. I tried to cry for Glaín, but it turned out to be only a faint whisper and then I fell into the darkness...

For a moment I had felt the urge to let go, to give in to the darkness. But Mahal built us strong in body and spirit! And so through the darkness I heard Glaín's lamentation. As I opened my eyes Glaín was holding my head. I felt burning pain in my chest and everything seemed dim to my eyes. He had managed to drive the shapes away and then found me lying cold on the floor. As he helped me to raise up we saw more shapes gathering in the dark corners of the room. And then we heard the old ceiling crack on moan! Sand and stones begun to fall and we know the tomb was going to collapse! So we started to run as fast as we could. As we ran out in to the raging blizzard we heard evil laughter through the sound of the crumbling tomb. “Begone! Let us be now!”, I cried as an answer to the laughter and then I fell in exhaustion and pain. Glaín managed to pull me in to a ruin of an old tower where he built shelter for the night...

-FF

[blode]

Its been some months now since my brother Glognar disappered. For the first few days we; our mother and me didnt think much of it, we were often away for days at a time with duties and chores. After two weeks past we became concerned. I searched the hills for a fortnight to no avail. I went to my cousins in Erebor, they had not seen him since last i was there with him. I went to Dale and Esgaroth too, my luck was no better. Soon weeks became months and with father past away a few years back and Glognar now gone mother wants me to find what has become of him. She would acompany me im sure if she were able; alas she is not, she is dieing and we do not know how long before the darkness takes her. My mother took hold of me and said "you must search further afield, go into the lands of men to the south and the west." We felt in our hearts that he is alive, I swore to her then i would return with him or news of his fate. Even if the news is dire she would rather know before she dies, she would like to know if Mahal has him, awaiting her at the Halls of Mandos with his father........

I prepared for my journey east and left two days later. Once i had past through Esgaroth the next man i saw was in the Town of Bree, there my search began. It was disappointing to hear that none had seen or even heard of Glognar, but i expected as much in truth. While i was there i made some coin aiding the town against goblin raids. A few days i was there trying to find out what i could helping the locals and making some coin in the process, apart from the goblins the work there was mundane. I soon moved on. I was told i may have better luck in Tharbad to the south, so i collected my belongings from Inn of The Prancing Pony, payd the owner and made south for Tharbad. Nothing happened on the way, it was a boring journey but i had high hopes. I arrived in Tharbad and did not like what i saw, one of the first things i saw was a guard beating unconcious a skinny elf laddy simply because he did not have is weapon sheathed, quite a savage beating too i felt sorry for the lad. He came to shortly after so i helped him up and went on my way after a few brief words. I found an Inn to stay; The Greyflood Inn, after a good nights sleep i will see what Tharbard holds for me. The Inn Keeper Mathas should be a good place to start.

[timppako]

19th Day

When I opened my eyes in he morning the storm had ended. All I saw was hazy whitness everywhere around our shelter. Glain looked very worried for the snow had covered all the tracks and the cloudy horizon blended perfectly to the white snowy ground. I raised my head up and felt the marks still burning in my chest. Glain looked at me with a worried look, but I mumbled that I'd be alright if I would just get something to eat. So there we hastly made breakfast while surrounded by whiteness.

We examined the place where the entrance to the tomb was, but it had completely collapsed. We both hoped that the stones would contain whatever there was inside. We also feared that this Ezra, who were looking for, might've been lost in the blizzard. So we started to follow the edge of the mountains, for we thought that would be where he would've looked for shelter.

After many hours of walking through the thick snow we arrived at another cave opening. As we stepped in I felt the pain in my chest growing. We quickly noticed that the place must be a part of the same tombs we searched yesterday. Fearing that someone else might've fallen into their darkness, as we nearly did, we readied ourselves and went deeper into the caves. Every step we took made the marks on my chest burn more and when we stepped into a big opening sweat was gleaming on my face from the pain. The walls of the tomb were full of strange writing and decorations in the middle stood a stony sarcophagus with foul crawen images on it. To my eyes the writing seemed to be tengwar, but written in a way that made little sense to me. ”Black Speech”, I whispered to Glain and then we heard something moving! As we turned the sarcophagus had narrowly opened and darkness seemed to pour from it! We cried to Mahal and it seemed to make the darkness hesitate. We lit our dwarven lanterns and raised them high. The darkness seemed to retreat back through the opening. ”This darkness must be undone!”, cried Glain and so we started to unmake the tomb. We broke the sarcophagus and ruined the writings. And everything we found we carried outside to be laid under the arctic sun. We piled all the bones and corpses into one pile and burned them. And they cracked and moaned as the fires licked them and black smoke rose into the sky.

As I watched the smoke rise the marks on my chest burned and I fell on to my knees. Glain ran to me and I grabbed his hand. I felt too weak to move and we did not have anything I could tend my wound with. So Glain had to build a litter where he could pull me to the camp. We took all we could carry and left the rest behind. And so Glain started to pull me under the cold northern sun...

-FF

[timppako]

20th Day

It was in the very early hours of the morning when we arrived back to the lossoth camp. The villagers brought medicines to Glain who tended to me. The burning started to fade as I regained my strenght, but the marks did not fade away. We told what we found to Nildar and he found our news disturbing, but thanked us for what we had did. He had also some news for us, for a group of strangers had wandered into the camp. And with them was a dwarf!

As quickly as we could we went to talk to this dwarf. After we introduced ourselves he told us he was called Eragoz. When we asked had he ever used the name Ezra, he nodded. Our hearts leaped and we started to press him about the caravan. He told us that he had travelled with a caravan that had left from the Lonely Mountain and that it had been waylaid by frostgiants in the High Pass! That the giants had killed most of them, left many to bleed to death and took the cargo and some dwarves with them! We tore our beards in anger and sadness and asked what he knew about Nûr and Glain's grandfather. He told that he had seen Nûr being taken away and then a giant had bashed his head and left him there to die. He woke up in a house of Beornings who had found him wondering senslessly near the Pass. He did not know what had happened to the old dwarf. We felt heartbroken for Hrór and what hope was there now for Nûr in the hands of the giants! But Eragoz insisted that the giants seemed to go to great lengths to capture Nûr, so that they might still keep her alive. So there might be a chance that she is alive! If not then there is always revenge!

We thanked him for his news and asked him to join us, but he declined saying that he has things here in north he must seek for himself. We bowed low again and started to prepare ourselves for another boat journey...

-FF

Ps. I was ashamed that I believed the words of those men who criticized his manners! He was a perfectly decent dwarf!

[timppako]

21st through 27th Day

I swear I will never take another boat ride unless in a dire situation. The swaying of the ship and the pain in my chest was an unbearable combination. Now I understand some of the pain old papa Kûn must've felt with his lost arm. I always remember how he sometimes tried to scratch his missing hand in his thoughts. When he noticed what he was doing he always said: ”The Worm must be gnawing on it again”. Glain did not enjoy the journey either. So there we sat, in our small corner below the deck, planning our revenge.

The captain left us somewhere up the river Gwathló, in a place called Minhiriath. We bid farewell to him and started to head towards Tharbad. To our delightful surprice we met a kinsman on the road. He introduced himself as Remus. He was going our way so we happily started to travel together. As the Sun was slowly starting to descent behind us we happened into a bloody scene! Bloody bodies of hobgoblins lying around in the ground and a bloody trail leading away from the site! Thinking someone might be in peril we quickly followed the trail into a forest nearby. The trail went inside a cave and we rushed in!

Inside we ran into a barricade manned by hobgoblins! They fired arrows on us, but we made a shield wall and started to advance towards them and as we got close enough, we stormed the barricade! They tried to resist, but we left them lying dead on the stony floor. But as we went deeper we met more barricades. We broke through them all. At the end of the cave we found a prisoner! A man whose tongue had been cut out! Curse on all the orcbreed! We freed him and left the cave quickly.

As we were outside we managed to find out that the man had been ambushed by a group of hobgoblins when he was on his way to Tharbad. He bravely fought against them, killing some of them, but they overcame him and dragged him into their lair. We told him that we were on our way to Tharbad and that we would protect him all the way to his home. That was the least we could do for the poor man. And so we walked in silence for the rest of the way...

-FF

[Jalking]

"Oy Remus lad... you are growing to be a strong stout lad like your ancestors" Giles, Remus father lay an arm around his son. "About time you get to hear why you was born here in Tharbad and not in the halls of glorious Erebor".

"This is a great shame of our family Remus, you see a long, long time ago your ancestor Gondo, the founder of our family got himself a jevel encrested axe... got it from Durin himself as the story goes... Heartgrim it was called and a beauty it was, a heavy waraxe made by the best smiths, tempered by a flame hotter than the belly of a great dragon. This is why we got an axe as a mark on our shield lad.

This axe was passed from father to son for as long as the longbearded have existed until your great grandfather lost it *sigh* a tribe of goblins came upon him, cowardly and in numbers they did slay him and left him for dead son.. they stole the axe from his dying hands and ran with it. With the last breath in him he swore that never should his family return to the dwarven halls unless carrying the symbol of our family honour... Heartgrim.

me father, and I, have searched the realm for the axe, but never prevailed. Now - my son, I turn over the search to you... restore our familys honour and bring the axe with you to the halls of erebor, taste the sweet ale of the master brewers, dig the mines there and raise your son there if your able..."

"Aye father" Remus swallowed nearvously.. "I swear to continue the search for Heartgrim and will prevail or die trying..."

[Jalking]

later that spring word came to Tharbad that Remus now was fatherless... orcs knicked him so hard that he never recovered from the wounds...

With gritted teech he set out to fullfill his destiny, travelling towards Bree and a small place called the shire, for words were that in the shire there was a man that had travelled the world and wrote with greatskill about it. The mans name was Bilbo Baggins.

Dissapointed was he when he found out that Bilbo had left the Shire travelling east towards the misty mountains and a place called Rivendell.

[Jalking]

after much trouble and many adventures Remus now sit at the fires of Rivendell, shown to him by an elf named Unen, Skinny as he called him seemed to turn up at the oddest times and many adventures they had shared.

Remus have found old Bilbo and was exited when he was suggested to look into the old songs for information. It seemed that the goblins in mirkwood had migrated into the misty mountains - maybe Heartgrim have migrated with them to those parts.

[InVinoVeritas]

And Skinny himself would call Remus "Beardy" jokingly but Beardy knew the elf didn't mean to offend him. And Skinny knew as well that Beardy didn't mean to offend him by calling him Skinny. The dwarf had a heart made of gold. He would become moody now and then and wasn't very outspoken but he wasn't like some dwarves Skinny had met during his journeys either - rude and bad-tempered. Skinny would think of Beardy as of "a dwarf with pedigree". They met in Tharbad long time ago - when neither Beardy nor Skinny had as many scars as they have now.
Skinny, having seen Remus passing through The Southern Gate - and who was perched on top of it himself one day - was having a bit joviality over there - with all his sto... - borrowed spirits. Playing "innocent pranks" - as Skinny would call them - on the passers-by by dropping down small stones that would now and then find their way to keepers' helmets with formidable accuracy. Not very polite you would most probably say dear reader but Skinny was certainly amused by it as you can imagine.

Such are elves - some of them wise and thoughtful yet not all them I assure you - and they love playing jokes on others - especially on dwarves. More then making jokes about dwarves in general they love making jokes about dwarven beards! They love making fun of themselves too to break the chains of old conventions.
Skinny thought that the dwarf was an excellent opportunity for more fun and Tharbad was such a lonely place for Skinny's kind. It's made him feel very surly recently so when he spotted the dwarf crossing over far below he gave him a shout:
"Come up father if you kin and we'll have a party!" - he was obviously playing an unpleasant joke on the poor dwarf.

[Pvt .T.]

Damnit. I haven't been able to contact Joel Quilby lately. I thought I could handle all of this myself but to no avail. Good thing I left the whole thing though..I really don't trust the Watch anymore. That feeling must be both-sided though.

I do not know is the other thing good news or bad but Joe told me that all of our old leaders are dead. Seems like those bounty hunters were succesful. Luckily my closest friend from those days is safe. Seems like he wasn't high-ranking enough to become a target.

The problem is, what am I going to do with these documents I found from our old home back at Tolfalas awhile ago.. should I give them to the Knights? They would give out a fair price of them.

Bah! Its better that I just keep them to myself. Not that they are so interesting either.

Well, all of my allegiances are off. I'm a free man atlast. Now I can finally just follow my own path and do decisions without outside influence. Though I am not going to go give my services to those *******s at Umbar.

I think I'll just stay here with the more familiar people.

I think I'll go give out these artefacts which the scholar at Rivendell helped in identifying to the Knights..or perhaps the Rangers. Better go just ask them. These things bring out dark magic too much..

[Pvt .T.]

*just to notify people that Joe and Joel Quilby are 2 different persons.*

[Guyror]

The scarred and ragged man rested his quill gently against the sheet of vellum in front of him and turned to the shadows… “Ya sure ya want me to write them down?” He spoke into the darkness… “Well if ya be sure tha is what I shall do… Now where ta start… that is tha question”. Slowly the man reached out and dipped his quill into a pot of ink and while steadying the paper with the remains of left arm started to write in a firm and confident script…

To begin one must start with a blank canvas and build up the picture with layers of detail; to begin with this tale shall start with a story from long ago on the day that Eril Flint lost his hand. It is a good a place to start as any, for it was on that day that Eril first met his Captain.

The ice bays of Forochel are a cold and oppressive place; it’s only inhabitants being a few nomadic tribes and a couple of trading posts that with some imagination could be called villages. What our hero Eril was doing here, is a tale for another day, but let us just say that the young Corsair was on his first voyage on the good ship Treachery under the legendary Captain “Mad Dog” McPherson.

One of the dangers that all captains are aware of when it comes to travelling the ice bays is the chance of becoming entrapped in the ice when the seas freeze during the coldest months of the year. Captain Mad was well aware of this danger but he had decided to run the risk in order to complete one final and very profitable run of supplies up to the trading post. Unfortunately the cold northerly winds were fierce this year and the progress north was slow, so as luck would have it, the ship got caught in the great ice sheets and was frozen in for the rest of the winter.

The first few weeks the captain and crew were cheerful and upbeat about the ships predicament but as slowly the winds grew stronger and the rum ran out, a feeling of discontent spread amongst the lower decks. And slowly rumours were spreading of an ill curse upon the ship and her captain, perhaps the cold breath of the ice lady was breathing down on them for risking this final run… Or maybe it was just judgement for the previous raid upon the good men of Eriador… whatever it was the captain came to here of it and quickly suppressed any tales of treason with an iron fist…

However as the last bottle of rum was drunk and the barrels of salt beef were being rationed more and more fiercely, the cold ice did not release its fierce grip and the muttering amongst the crew grew in accordance. So Captain Mad knew that it was no longer time for inaction, but he would have to risk life and limb to get food and hope for his crew.

So during the darkest part of the night, the Captain walked up onto the deck and past the young Corsair on duty… “If ya value ya life young lad… ya seen nothing!” He barked at the sailor as he swung his leg over the side and started to climb down onto the ice sheet. Eril knew then that fate was in a balance, follow his Captain and link there fates as one… or turn a blind eye and leave his fate in the hands of another…

“I aint doin tha Cap’n and ya best hold up… I aint leaving ya to ya fate because that is aint my way”. So grabbing his sword and cloak he gently swung down a rope and landed beside the captain. “So Cap’n what ya doing anyway?” The young lad asked of his captain.

“Hunting Lad… we need food bad if we going ta survive this ‘ere winter… and there aint any left in tha boat… so I be going ta find some…” He gestures out over the frozen sea. “… Somewhere out there… be my… our quarry!” he helps the young man down onto the ice and together the walk out over the ice.

For a few hours they slowly slip and slide out over the ice, finding no signs of life and quickly what clothes the men had become soaked through, but as the sun rises so do there spirits as they start to slowly warm once again. “Over there Cap’n that be a small rise… and I be sure it will grant us a better view”. Eril gestures to a white mound amongst the unforgiving sheets of ice. And so the men slowly walk towards it, but as they get closer they realise the error of their judgement as the white mound slowly moves and a huge head lifts up off the ground.

The bear growled deep in its chest and padded up onto its four huge legs, the creature standing while standing was nearly as tall as two men and the shadow ominously fell across the two men. Looking once again to each other they looked for a place to run or hide… seeing a small crack in the ice they dived towards it and luckily found it to once large enough for them, but not for the bear. The great bear slowly padded up to the crack in the ice and leaning down started to try and claw its way in to reach its prey… The hunters now were the hunted!

A few swipes of a cutlass later and the bear withdrew and lay back down upon the ice watching the crack with a cruel but near intelligent eye. The two men turned once again to each other wondering what could be done, for if they were to stay they would freeze, but to leave the confines of this small crack would mean having to face the huge ice bear. So after a few brief words they waited… and waited…

Too soon the day past and the two men crouched shivering in the confines of the cave, as night approached and the bear had not moved from its guard position they turned to each other… “Well lad… we better do something or this old Cap’n is going ta freeze ‘is monkeys off!” The captain said to Eril through gritted and chattering teeth.

“Cap’n I have an idea… just ye wait here and I can see what I can do…” Eril slowly crouched down and drew his sabre trying to suppress the shivering, for if he was to do this right he would have to risk everything. The young boy slowly started to climb back out of the crack and sneak slowly up behind the huge near sleeping behemoth; with his sword poised he leapt the final few feet and tried with all his might to plunge the sword deep into the beast’s throat.

Fortunately for the bear his aim was not quite true and the blade dug deep, but did not dig deep enough missed any vital organs or blood vessels and as the great bear roared and dragged itself to its feet Eril’s sword was ripped from his hand. The bear now injured, angry and seeking revenge turned down to look at the young Corsair and tried to swipe at him with its great claws… Eril ducked and weaved trying with all his might to once again reach the relative safety of the ice crack, but he knew that task was impossible.

Suddenly the bear jolted again, as the Captain leapt out of the crack and tried to bring his own sword down and hamstring the great beast, but the fur was too tough and the sinews too strong, so his blade was turned aside. Luckily for Eril he now had a chance and dodging in leapt up onto the back of the huge beast seeking once again for an opportunity to strike… but his sabre… it was still lodged in the throat of the bear. The bear initially did not notice this man upon his back as he slowly wheeled around to finish off the ship’s captain, but soon as Eril struggled more to get a better grip the bear reared up upon its hind legs in order to try and dislodge the foolhardy sailor.

Eril hung on tight with his right hand, as he brought his left around the neck of the beast in order to reach his sabre, but it was then that he knew his mistake for the bear saw the motion and brought its great maw around to bite…

The pain was short lived, for the nerves were partially numbed by the cold, but Eril still cried out as his left hand was ripped from the rest of his arm, he slid off the back of the bear and landed behind it. However as he looked down at the remains of his hand, he say that one of the bear’s great teeth had become lodge between the bones of his forearm. Seeing a chance of perhaps surviving this attack he reached out with his one remaining good hand and pulled the razor sharp fang from his own flesh. A second stab of pain temporarily paralysed him and he blacked out for a short time, but as he came around, he quickly bound his arm in the remains of his cloak and turned to see what had happened to the bear and his Captain.

Slowly backing away and vainly sweeping his sword in great swipes, was Cap’n Mad Dog, he took a brief look over towards Eril and the look was one almost an apology, he started to say something, but a great claw came down hard upon the side of his head and the mighty captain was felled. Eril looked across at his fallen captain, and noticed the bear slowly pacing around his now still body, so he moved with as much stealth as his near frozen body could muster and clutching the bloody tooth in his right hand studied the beast for a point of weakness.

With a sharp lunge, the young pirate struck and the tooth easily pierced the tough hide of the beast… the crude weapon did not do much damage as such but it drew the bear once again around to face its attacker… and it was then that the real strike could occur for as the bear swung around so did Eril’s sabre that was dug deep into the side of its neck. Eril once again rolled in close to the bear and with all his might pressed down again upon the sword, a smile spread across his face as he felt the blade dig deeper and deeper. The bear once again reared up to try and get away from the pain, but in only doing so it made the wound larger and allowed the blood to flow faster.

Eril rolled out of the way of the mortally wounded bear as it staggered around in blind pain and he looked down upon his captain. “Cap’n… ya hear me Cap’n… we ‘ave ta get ya back to tha boat mattie…” But the captain was knocked out cold and bleeding from his right ear.

[Guyror]

Eventually the bears roars grew less and its struggles waned as the great behemoth’s life blood flowed out onto the virgin white snow. Eril turned once again to his captain and searched the horizon for any sign of the ship so he could drag him to safety. But deep down Eril knew that there was no safety there unless they could complete their initial task, and he also knew that they would not do that before the sun would set again and still give him time to return to the boat before they froze.

So Eril once again turned to the great bear and removed the razor sharp fang from between its rear haunches and slit the great beast from gullet to gizzard and let the fetid entrails pour out onto the snow. After a few moments of gruesome work Eril had cleared enough space for the captain and himself and they crawled inside the belly of the beast to use its fading warmth throughout the night.

The following morning Eril’s left arm was still paining him, but a tourniquet of bear sinew had at least staunched the bleeding and so he crawled out into the morning light. He placed the razor sharp tooth into the back of his trousers and then turned to the bear and using its entrails as corded ropes he tied them around the legs of the beast and started to drag the huge carcass and its grizzly contents back towards the boat.

It took Eril nearly the rest of the day to once again reach the Treachery, and his greeting was worth the effort for as he staggered back onto the deck and motioned for the ship’s surgeon to see to the still groggy captain he slumped into a deep but comforting darkness…

The old man looked over to the shadows and nodded a few times before once again placing his left arm onto the paper… “I am spent for now, I will tell more another day…”

No noise was returned from the shadows but the old man smiled in gratitude.

[Guyror]

Tall tales – part 2

The scarred man once again looked down at the blank parchment in front of him and shifted it around upon the bench he was working upon. He looked towards the corner of his small room and tried to pierce the shadows with his single eye. “Yes, I know… I should write more, just give me a moment to gather my thoughts.” The man again lifted his quill and dipped it into the small pot of ink, before starting to write again.


The good ship Treachery broke free from its icy embrace in the early spring and the captain headed back south in order to try and replenish lost stock and give the crew some time to heal.

It also took many months for Eril to recover from the loss of his arm, but during this time he was not idle. He spent many weeks whittling away at the bear’s tooth until he could attach a wood and leather handle to its base. No matter how much he used that blade the edge would remain viscously sharp. Eril also spent some time crafting a versatile hook to put on the end of his still numb left wrist. But his losses were all justified by the new respect he had gained from his captain and the crew; they would now look on him as an equal rather than just new blood.

The following summer once the physical wounds had healed Captain McPherson was once again recruiting for a trip down and around to the city of Umbar. The first sailor he came to was Eril, “Ya got ta come with me lad, ya me good luck charm now… and besides I owe ya for me life. I intend ta repay ya as only a good cap’n can… we are going raiding and ya best be ready for some fun and games for we be after them coastal villages of tha ‘orselords.”

Eril could not believe his luck, trading was nothing compared to the reward of raiding. With raiding, both bane and boon are your bed fellows, danger and death against pillaging. It was a difficult choice, but he quickly agreed and his life was once again linked to that of Cap’n Mad.

The good ship Treachery was soon sailing with a full crew out of the pirate’s secret base and into the turbulent seas around the east coast of Harlindon. The sailing was smooth for many weeks and spirits were high, but as they slowly approached their target the crew grew quiet and focused. For a few weeks the raiding was easy, the villages were unprepared and they met little resistance; however as the summer drew to a close and winter started to pull its cloak across the land a change came across the men… they knew something was not right.

It was on the morning of the first day after the harvest moon that they saw her… a low and fast cutter with many sails that could easily out pace the Treachery. The pirates initially laughed at such a small vessel, but as it drew closer they realised that this was no ordinary patrol ship. Standing in the prow was a single silver haired elf, her clothes were simple but something about her spoke of great power. She raised her arms and called in a loud and clear voice… “Corsairs… you have raided for your last time, the retribution of the free people shall now fall upon you… you cannot flee, but if you surrender you will be tried for piracy and some of you may live.”

The crew looked down upon this small vessels and its handful of occupants, then laughed for they felt they could easily beat off any raiding party. The Captain however looked with concern down upon the woman and started giving orders to prepare the ballistas.

Eril being in charge of the fore ballista started to winch the rope back and try to load one of the deadly bolts into the slot. He was too busy to notice that a low chanting had started from the elf and the air was starting feel more cold and heavy than a moment before. Suddenly as the chanting increased great banks of fog rolled in from behind the small cutter and blanketed the sea in all embracing cloud of acrid fog.

The crew looked around wild eyed as cries of witchery and doom spread amongst them. The captain called to his men… “Stand ease men, it be just one of them there elven witches… fill ‘er full of ‘oles and she won’t be singing again! Open Fire!” With that the crossbows hummed and the ballistas released with an audible thud. But the fog had covered the movement of the boat and all the bolts flew wild.

Eril continued to load his ballista trying to listen through the screams and wails for the movement of the boat through the sea around them.

The good ship Treachery suddenly jerked as if it had struck a reef, but they were miles from the nearest shore. And a great groan went through the wood of her keel as a dark shape moved under the hull. The chanting by now had changed its tone and the wild elf’s voice was filling the ears of the men with piercing tones that shook them to their dark souls. The cries of the men even though they were muffled by the strange acrid fog, reached a new pitch as the boat jarred again and it rolled dangerously to the port side.

Captain Mad cried for order and lashed out at the nearest crewman that was curled into a ball with his hands over his head. “Get ye scabberous dogs on ya feet. If ya cannot shoot that darn elf… we be going down ta feed tha crabs!” Some order was returned to the crew but the hold was tentative.

Eril knew that he would probably only get a single chance with his ballista and was trying to pierce the great fog banks for any sign of the smaller vessel. He continued to shift his weight from one foot to the other, but he was yet to find a clear shot. Suddenly he saw something looming out of the fog… it was a shape far larger than there own vessel and its barnacle covered side twitched with life. The monstrous whale lined it self up once again and moved in to ram the Treachery. A great splintering of wood and horrified cries of men accompanied the tremor when the whale struck.

Eril loosed his ballista and watched the bolt fly true towards the eye of the great beast, but by some witchery the bolt appeared to bounce off the soft flesh of the eye. The other crew saw this as well and a deep fright was quickly spreading, a few souls dived over the side trying to escape death but it was then that another horror emerged. The seas that until now had been quiet and flat erupted into fierce and frenzied movement as thousands of fish moved in to attack them screaming men. The voices soon went quiet as they were pulled beneath the surface, never to again see the light of day.

Eril quickly tried to reload his ballista and with steady progress drew back the heavy rope. But he felt that he would never get a good shot from where he stood. So with a mighty heave he lifted the siege engine out of its socket and walked over to the side of the ship trying to once again see the great whale so he could end this threat once and for all.

The third crash from the whale sent more men tumbling into the water and a few more timbers were starting to crack under the strain. The captain was by now crying in vain for order amongst his crew and he was starting to believe that there was little chance of surviving this encounter.

It was then that Eril caught sight of the small cutter, it was far off the starboard bow and the elven witch was standing high in the prow continuing her keen. The range was too great to reach from where he stood, so Eril hefted the great ballista across his shoulder and started to climb the ropes up to the eagle’s nest near the top of the mast. As he was climbing he looked down upon the rest of the crew and caught the eye of the captain… with a few small hand signals he urged the captain to turn the vessel slightly to the north, so that his view would be clearest.

Captain Mad urged the crew into a final act of courage and with much berating and cursing turned the near crippled Treachery to the north. The great whale tried to stop this somewhat as it rammed the vessels once again from the beneath and threw the crew down onto the deck. As the ship lurched Eril nearly lost his grip upon the ropes but with luck he managed to jam the point of his hook into the mast and did not fall. However as he twisted he felt the great ballista shift upon his shoulder and start to slip, he instinctively let go with his good hand and swung down using his legs as a lever so that he could catch the weapon before it fell.

Now hanging upside down near the top of the mast, hold the great ballista in a single hand he saw clearly for the first time the small vessel and knew that this was his chance…

The shot was long, the wind was variable but he knew that it was this or… the sea churned once again almost as if it knew a new victim would soon be feeding its hungry maw. He took careful aim and with every muscle in his body screaming at him, he let loose and watched as the bolt flew through the air straight and true.

The elven witch only now noticed the treat and she turned her face up to the precariously placed sailor, she started to raise her arms and her voice shifted but it was too late… the bolt impacted into the middle of her chest and threw her back against the mast of the small vessel. The chanting faded away as the elf maiden looked down at the bolt sticking out from the middle of her chest and her head gently slumped down.

As the chant dispersed so did the great banks of fog, and the huge whale dived one more time and with a great splash of water disappeared beneath the waves. The few remaining men upon the smaller vessel quickly turned there vessel for the nearest port and fled.

Eril casually swung down from the rigging and landed lightly upon his feet next to the captain. “That be twice now lad…” The captain laughed as he crawled back onto his feet. Slowly order was restored to the Treachery but she was badly damaged by the witches onslaught and so Captain Mad decided that a short stay in Umbar would be needed.

[Guyror]

As the vessel slowly limped to Umbar, Eril found looked upon the ballista and smiling broadly started to remove bits and pieces so he could more easily carry the great crossbow. “I think I’ll call ya Old Bessie… like tha old harlot in Tharbad… not great ta look at, but sure does knock ya off ya feet when ya get on her bad side!”

As the ship pulled into the docks of Umbar, Eril stood now at the prow with the Old Bessie slung over his back and had started to gain the swagger of a great Corsair.


The scarred man, once again put down his quill as the story had ended. He looked over what was written and corrected a few things before pushing the parchment across the table. “Tha be all I can write for now… I am spent… tales take it out of you…” The man once again turned to the shadows and nodded. “I will write more… aye… I just need time to remember.”

[Guyror]

Tall Tales – Chapter 3

The bent figure once again looked down at the table in front of him, knowing that he would soon have to write more, what had he deserved to have such a fate he thought. A wry smile contorted his face as he realised that the answer to that particular question was easy… Many things! He chuckled quietly to himself as he slowly lifted a quill once again.

“I shall be writing now of a few more recent things, things that will tell ya more of the world as Eril did see it.” He twisted around behind him, as if he had heard some sound, but nothing was there just dark shadows. “I will not speak of that yet… no not yet. But soon, I promise…”


Eril the corsair stood amongst a throng of people moving slowly amongst the beauty of Orthanc, he was watching a particular merchant with a rather fat purse. But as he was just moving in to make his move, a hand held him back. “That one is not yours to take… old man.” Eril glanced down to the hand that held his own and brushed it aside with a swipe of his hook. He then looked up to the owner of the hand; it was a middle aged man who you would not look twice at; however something about his manner made Eril pause.

“Ya best ‘ave a damn good reason why ya stopping me mate, and none of this cause he be mine.” Eril angrily moved off the main street running through Orthanc and made his way into a quiet and dark alleyway. The man followed quietly and calmly.

“It is best not to bite off the hand that feeds you old man… that is why. And also you are needed… “He makes a motion to the dark alleys and towards the hidden ways under the city. “Your wanted ‘mate’!” The last emphasis told Eril that this man knew of him, and as such he was at the advantage for now.

The two men slunk quietly through the back streets and quieter corners of Orthanc until they reached a dead end alleyway. They both looked at each other and slowly walked up to a heavy door. When knocking it was briskly opened by a huge brute of a man, he hissed something in a threatening voice, but when he looked closely at the two shapes, calmed and let them in.

The door opened up into a small room, with only a single chair and a set of rickety old stairs leading down. The guard slammed the door shut, once the two were inside and threw the bolts back into place; he then slumped back into his chair and soon started to snore once again.

“Good ta see that the door be so well guarded, eh mate?” Eril amusing said once they were out of ear shot of the sleeping guard. His companion just smiled and waited.

“I heard that! You scabberous dog! If you weren’t needed down right now, I would throw you out and beat you an inch of your worthless life!” The guard cried out with his eyes still shut and then slowly the breathing returned to a snore. Eril crookedly smiled and started down the stairs.

“Well then lad, wha be tha urgency eh? I only just got in town, so why all tha hurry?” Eril spoke over his shoulder as he slowly wound his way down into the dark.

“A new recruit appears to need your particular skills; something about some ‘Great Hunt’ I can tell you no more. The names Kang, old man, in case you were ever going to ask.”

This final comment brought a smile to Eril face and then he replied with not a moment’s hesitation. “Nah lad, ya just tha messenger, it aint as if ya someone important.” This brought a grimace to Kang’s face and he ground his teeth together in frustration.

Finally they reached the lower levels of Orthanc and the stench of the furnaces filled the air. Larger shapes lumbered around in the shadows and the cries of tortured souls filled the air. The two men were about to stride out into the first chamber when an even darker shadow loomed up in front of them.

“Over dere.. now!” The twisted face of the Uruk-hai distorted the sound somewhat but they knew not to disobey so followed his guidance and strode out purposefully into the dark and twisted realm of Saruman the White. As the two men made there way across the chamber a collection of young Olog’s started to jeer and call to them, the pathetic creatures were barely old enough to call adults, but Eril gave them a firm stare and they quickly shut up.

On the far side of the chamber was a pair of men, one huddled up under a great cloak, the other was talking quietly to him. As Eril and Kang approached, the second man moved away and left the cloaked stranger alone. “Ya wanted me… eh? Ya ‘eard that the great Eril be in town, and ya wanted ta see me aye?” Smiled Eril to the dark figure, the jest fell upon deaf ears, and a cold emotionless voice echoed back.

“I need a guide. You will guide me to the mountains corsair; I have to hunt a great beast. Your skills are needed for that, not for making unnecessary jibes.”

Eril turned to Kang next to him and winked, “we got a right stuck up one ‘ere, eh lad!” They both smiled before turning back to the dark figure. “What be ya name lad? And ya needing extra help is it just me?”

“Ynzakher the Foul is my name, and that rabble of Olog’s is also coming to act as meat for the grinder. Now prepare yourself we leave within the hour.”

Eril once again looked to Kang and they set about getting things ready for the journey into the mountains. “He be foul alright, foul mouthed and stinks worse than a goblin’s armpit” muttered Kang as they prepared great packs of rope and climbing gear. The time passed quickly as the two men completed there chores, but they were ready when Ynzakher came back to them, followed by a rag tag rabble of half bred, under fed Olog’s.

“So then guide, you ready to lead us on this great hunt?” The cold man spoke with about as much feeling as a walking corpse.

“Well mate, it be depending upon what we ‘unting and for who… as ya see my services aint cheap and I do ‘ave other engagements ya know.” Eril looked over to Kang and made a few crude gestures before turning back to Ynzakher.

“I hunt a great white wyrm, it is rumoured to be up amongst the outer horn of the mountains to the north west of here. Amongst the Moria range, you will take us there and I do this for...” he slowly lifts his head and looks up to the ceiling “… the white wizard.”

“Well why the ‘ell did ya not tell me earlier mate, I would of packed me winter woollies…” Eril winked at Ynzakher, then placed the final few things into the packs and motioned for the olog’s to lift them. “Careful lads, there be something in there that aint wanting much shaking…” Eril turned to Kang and said in a hushed tone, “a little surprise of me own mate.”

The journey out of Orthanc was as uneventful as you can get with three ologs, and three men. But the back streets and sewers were deserted as the night laid its heavy cloak across the city. Once outside amongst the dark woods travel was faster and by morning they had reached the borders of Rohan. Ynzakher, rode proud on the back of his horse, the Olog’s ran beside him like yapping puppies. Eril and Kang however stayed slightly away from the rest, keeping quietly to the shadows.

As dawn approached a dark wood was found for the Olog’s to rest away from the piercing sunshine, and the three men sat down to talk. “So mate, I been meaning ta ask ya” eril looked over toward Ynzakher and then continued, “Why tha foul?” The dark man looked once again to Eril and with slow movements pulled back his hood, the sight beneath made Kang quickly loose what food they had eaten and he moved away to find some fresh air. The man’s face was twisted and made up mainly of open sores and pustules. The skin was pallid and his eyes were dull as if the life was drawn from them.

“Well mate? Why tha foul? I seen worse amongst the brothels of Tharbad, and ya ‘ad ta pay ta see her as well! Aint that right Kang…” The sounds of gagging grew louder but in the moments of respite a groan which could have been agreement was heard. Ynzakher then drew back up his hood and moved away from the two men to sit quietly and think.

“He weren’t tha bad mate…” Eril comforted Kang as he continued to wretch, “I should get ya ta meet Old Bessie… now that is one ta make ya stomach turn”

The following evening, they set off once again and spent most of the day leading up from the low lands of Rohan through scrubland to the hills at the base of the mountains. Again they stopped for the night and Eril provided fresh venison for the olog’s to feed upon. The contented sounds of snapping bones and rending flesh, told him that they would be held off from attacking the rest of the men for another night at least.

During the following day, while Eril was watching the road near the campsite, a troop of Rohirrim riders made there way slowly up the trail. Eril knew that the outriders would more than likely spot their campsite, so hoisting Bessie up onto his shoulder made quickly made his way over to the other side of the trail. As he looked down up the troop he quickly counted fify in number, so with little concern he started to crank Bessie and when ready took careful aim, and let loose. The first bolt passed straight through the lead rider and pinned the still twitching body to a tree beside the road. This had gained there attention somewhat and the riders whipped there horses into a gallop and came head long up the trail towards where Eril was hiding.

[Guyror]

Eril nimbly lept over the rock he was hiding behind and started to climb up the next, once upon the top again, he heaved with all his might and started the great stone tumbling down the side of the hill. As the avalanche built the riders were close pressed and unable to avoid the deluge of stones and earth. Near half there number were struck by the landslide and the sounds of snapping bones and screaming horses filled in the mid day air.

Eril now wanting to press his advantage, once again brought Bessie up to bare and sighted a rohirrim with a ornate helm. The officer did not stand a chance as the great ballista fired and the bolt flew straight, it passed through the man’s head which then burst like an over ripe melon, and before his body had time to slump to the floor, the bolt had again hit a second man in the trunk and leg, pinning him to his now injured horse. Without any leadership, and seeing more than half there number incapacitated within just a few moments, the surviving riders withdrew back down the hill to regroup.

This rebate gave Eril time to prepare the first of his little surprises, and sneaking back to camp took a few small clay fars from one of the packs of the sleeping Olog’s. He placed them again carefully upon the trail in at specific points, and retreated once again back up to his rocky overhang. Almost as soon as he was comfortable and ready, the men dismounted from there horses and made a more steady approach up the hill. However as soon as they had reached the first of the clay jars, Eril opened fire, but his bolt missed. Only to cleanly strike the jar which then erupted into a huge ball of flame that engulfed the first group of five men. They did not have time to scream as the flames covered them from head to foot and the burning oil drew the air from there lungs. The rohirrim now started to run up the slope, but the next bolt set off another and another jar of burning oil. Thick clouds of smoke hung across the trail and Eril used these to slip once again away from the sight of slaughter and leave the cries of the dying to there comrades.

Eril stealthily made his way down to the horses of the surviving group and searched their saddlebags for anything of value or interest. Upon finding some sealed papers and documents slipped back into the shadows and returned to the campsite. By the time he reached it, Kang was peering out from behind a rock trying to see through the thick choking smoke and the Olog’s were baying smelling blood upon the air. There was no sight of Ynzakher.

The thick smoke blocked the sun out enough to prevent it harming the Olog’s so they were let loose upon the few surviving rohirrim and their horses. No survivors left the trail that day to report upon what was found, but the next patrol did find the half burnt and half eaten remains of there lost patrol.

That evening with the Olog’s once again well fed upon the flesh of both the men and there horses. They continued up into the low mountains and towards the southern end of the Moria range. The temperature quickly dropped and the only person not suffer from it was the dark figure of Ynzakher, he almost appeared to lavish in the suffering of the others. But little was said between the travellers as all effort was needed in finding clear footing and even Kang was silenced as he struggle to find the breath to breathe.

The following morning as they reached the first of the lower passes into the Moria range, Eril scouted around to find a secure place to hide for the night, and after clearing out a wolf den, they lit a low fire and fed well upon freshly cooked meat.

As the group rested in the cave, Eril carefully left his companions and went in search of tracks and trails to lead to where this great white wyrm was hiding. He crossed many paths and climbed high into the mountains before finally finding sight of the great creature’s trail. A broken tree with a mountain goat half eaten near the base, many would of missed the tell tale signs, and confused this with a bear attack, but the tree had been broken from above and the goat had died from a broken back as a great weight landed down on it from above.

Making his way back to the wolf den, Eril spotted a great shadow passing over one of the higher peaks and making note of its direction quickly pressed on. When he did eventually reach the den, the rest of the group were ready and waiting for him.

“It be about another days travel into tha mountain’s lads, and it be near the peak of that there mountain…” He motions to one of the higher peaks and smiles as he hears Kang groan. “It aint that bad mate… it could be worse ya could be sharing dinner with tha Olog’s tonight.”

This thought made Kang grimace once again and his complaints quickly stopped. As the group made there way up higher into the mountains the breathing became difficult even for the stalwart olog’s. But few complaints were heard as they diligently climbed.

As morning drew in, they reached there target a great cave, high amongst the peaks of the Moria range. Here a great white wyrm held its lair and preyed upon the surrounding denizens. Ynzakher, now tried hard to encourage the olog’s to enter the cave, but even these great beasts were humbled by the size of the entranceway. After a few kicks and curses in dark tongues the creatures started to gourd themselves up ready for battle. Kang slipped out his bow and started to check the fletching of the arrows. Looking over Eril just laughed, “Ya think them little darts will ‘urt that thing? It ‘as a ‘ide as tough as steel… ya best get some bandages and keep them olog’s standing mate!” Eril continued to load his ballista and raiding the olog’s packs drew out his remaining surprises; four more clay pots containing the exploding oil, and a small vial of dark liquid. Eril carefully dripped a few drops of the dark liquid onto the tip of his ballista bolt and placed the cork back into the top of the glass jar. He then picked up the jars and taking all headed into the cavern.

The ice cave was huge; the ceiling was higher than the masts of four ships and it had great icicles hanging from the roof. But what drew Kang’s eyes and those of the Olog’s was the centre of the cave. One was looking at the great pile of gold, the other the huge wyrm lying atop it. The olog’s charged forward in an uncontrolled berserk manner, and the great wyrm lifted an eyelid to watch them get closer. At the last moment it opened its jaws and breathed a great cloud of super frozen vapour, the olog’s charge was slowed considerably as one slipped and fell; however the rest continued one oblivious to the cold. The wyrm then stood and started snapping at the olog’s with its jaws and slashing with its claws.

Kang kept mainly to the back ground, but did shoot some pathetic arrows at the beast, if only to distract it for a second or two. As the great beast fought with the wall of olog flesh, Eril started to climb the walls of the ice cavern and place the four clay jars near the base of one of the great icicles. Far beneath him the battle raged, but he was determined in his task, for he knew that the great beast would not be harmed by the young olog’s and their attempts did nothing but annoy the beast. So finally when Eril had placed the last of the jars and was sliding back down to the floor of the cavern he started to load Bessie with the special bolt. The dark liquid still glistened upon the tip as he lifted the bolt up and took careful aim.

As he pulled the trigger a moment of quiet fell upon the group, all but one of the olog’s was clutching heavy wounds and the last one was cowering in a corner wimpering loudly. Kang was trying hard to remain hidden and Ynzakher was no where to be seen. The bolt flew towards the great wyrm and it struck it upon the chest, it hit with great force as the dark liquid exploded upon impact driving the great barb into the chest of the creature. This wound had drawn the attention of the wyrm, which now slowly moved its way towards Eril, who was frantically trying to reload his ballista.

Just as the great wyrm was drawing close and Eril could smell the creature’s fetid breath he lifted Old Bessie up and took steady aim. However just before he fired the wyrm took another great breath in and blew a super frozen cloud of crystals at where Eril stood. He had to dive away with great agility to prevent him getting injured, and as he rolled to the side brought Bessie up and fired the next bolt towards the jars on the roof.

The explosion that erupted rocked the cavern to its core and great chunks of ice fell down from above all over the companions as they dived for cover. The great icicle fell slowly from the roof and landed upon the white wyrm; however what was intended as a mortal wound was not. The ice chunk had fallen slightly to the side and landed piercing the creature’s left wing and snapping the bones in its foreleg. It was surely injured but not slain.

Eril now looked up at the great beast, and knew that he had but one chance to survive this day, so he reached down to his side and pulled out the small vial of dark liquid. This he then attempted to tie to the end of one of his bolts. While doing this the great wyrm was lashing wildly at the olog’s that had once again found there feet and were moving in to what they perceived as an easy kill.

Finally the vial was well attached the bolt load and the ballista aimed, but Eril could not get a clean shot, for by now the olog’s were too close and he did not wish to anger the white wizard by killing some of his own. However seeing how the battle was faring, if he did not act the olog’s would be dead anyway. So he fired.

[Guyror]

When the survivors crawled out of the cave into the early morning light, nothing much remained of the great wyrm, its head and half its torso was now missing. The olog’s by some miracle had survived however all of them were bleeding heavily and it would appear that more than one of them was temporarily deaf. Kang was also struggling to get out of the cave, but he appeared to be heavily laden with sacks of gold. Ynzakher, now also returned and he entered the cave, only to return a few moments later with a small vial covered in a dark red liquid. “I have all I need, I will make my way back to Orthanc now, and you can keep what you can carry.” He clapped his hands and the staggering Olog’s fell into line behind him, and left the mountain back towards Orthanc.

Eril and Kang looked back at the cavern and seeing the roof slowly falling in, decided that it was time to leave before other scavengers were drawn to the area.


The man put down his quill and stretched his aching back, he read once again what he had written and nodded. “That be as good as I can remember, it be one of many tales I ‘eard.” The silence from the shadows lasted a moment and then the man once again stood and rolling the parchment placed it diligently upon a shelf. “I will write more… when I can. For now I am too tired… and my eye be strained.”

[Validriel]

With her eyes not yet opened, Validriel could feel the heavy mist cling to her face, then collect into droplets and slip down her cheeks like tender tears. She touched her thumb to moist fingertips, and then felt the dampness of her hair slide against an ear as she turned her head slightly. To each side she heard rivulets of falling water, tumbling over stone, gathering into pools. In the distance, she heard the low, ponderous crash of greater torrents, spilling over waterfalls.

The corners of her lips turned upward and formed the slightest smile. From far across the ages, she’d arrived.

With her head tipped back, the elf-maid slowly opened her eyes. Through the blur of water droplets she could see the last of the setting sun to the west and night sky toward the east, the black of it turned purple by the smoky glow of a million tiny sparks of starlight – some huddled closely together, others with distance enough between that they could be counted one by one.

She paused in the moment, and the moment paused back. And a quiet peace filled her heart — as those gentle nighttime rays chased away the last of the daytime, and filled her with a certain knowledge that from the time before time the Queen had intended this blessing for those like her, with a purity of heart.

Minutes passed, or perhaps hours — there was no accounting for time in this place of mist and starlight. But, with its passage, the time began to quicken and, casting her gaze to her left, Validriel saw arising from the north a Darkening – a black veil that began at the horizon and slowly slipped skyward behind the stars. And as it did, she saw that the stars nearest to it… they trembled.

And the trembling became a dread, and the dread began to fill her. And then she heard from across an expanse of water the sound of an equal dread, passed as it was from the lips of many Quendi gathered on the far shore — the minyanmici Minnómar, the first from amongst the Firstborn — their starlit faces also turned toward the heavens, watching with the same concern this Darkening. Her gaze followed theirs, and then she saw the Darkness halt and stand its ground, as if to survey what sky remained and boast of the certainty of its conquest. And still other stars trembled.

But not all. For from beyond the horizon to the west came the peal of a bell, but yet not… the note of a song, but yet not… the call of a mother to her children, but yet not…

“Aiya Menelmacar, tirno tulca Elenardassë!” it rang out. And Validriel’s eyes widened, at first from her own familiarity with those very words – the first line of the twelve-line prayer she’d known her entire life, here now uttered as if for its first time, as if by its first speaker. And her eyes grew still wider as she stood in awe as a great star-bespeckled warrior rose from the southern sky after the command and lifted high his mighty blade, as the imperative “á leyla veryavë, ar otalya cenya falquan” resounded.

She caught her own breath, as the Quendi across the water gasped as well, and their hearts lept as the Darkness shuddered… and retreated. But the marvel was not yet ended.

Again from the west came a call like a trumpet: “Aiya Helluin!” And from directly overhead one of the stars stood forth, and shone forth with such intensity that its sisters across the heavens were bathed in its blueness, and glints of its rays poured down upon the waters of Cuivienen, and became sparkles from within each of the ripples of the waters on the ground, and sparkles from within each misty droplet splashing through the air. And so all around her the water reflected the mighty star’s light as countless prisms, and that light fused itself with the waters, and became their blessing.

The elves, as one, sang words of praise — invented then and there as their answer to the Ancient’s surpassing kindnesses and protections.

And what fear had overtaken Validriel was washed away by the sparkling droplets. She knelt out of respect for what she’d witnessed, and a warm night breeze passed across the waters and wrapt itself around her, and she closed her eyes to feel it tease the water splashed upon her face.

When Validriel reopened her eyes, she knelt no longer on stone at that water’s edge, but in a field of tall grass… and bright sunlight spilled upon the earth about her, and the great tower Elostirion stood in the distance.

She’d returned to her own age.

And, with a deep breath, the last tingly taste of lissë nyérë faded from her tongue.

She longed to return. But she sensed its impossibility. Such journeys, once taken, are naught to be repeated, but point instead their way toward still other inward journeys. She returned once more the stalk of small, white blossoms to her mallyrn-leaf pouch. And what void she felt in her heart, left from that place of water and starlight, she tried humbly to fill. Slowly, quietly, she whispered the dozen lines of Quenya to herself once more… the thousandth time in as many seasons since her youth… thinking nonetheless as she prayed: “sweet sorrow, indeed.”

[Lady Igraine]

Vulpex, very well done. I do not know if it was intended but that read like a poem and it simply carried you along. I knew you had been holding out on us, but now you arent allowed to stop.

[Mentat]

I absoulutely concur, a good story, straight and true, and I like the language twists you used so precisely to give that kindred personality indeep, more then any explaination could.

[Mentat]

The Shades on Highpass

On a cloudy day Alvae Helcariel made her way up to Highpass, in focus the route to the Anduin, and in extension to Loth Lorien and the Greenwood. Still wolves were covering the highpass, looking out for a weakened traveleres pestered by the many goblins that usually lurk in that area. Little did that concern here, but still she moved silently and unseen by the eyes of either wolves and the ever spying goblins from the mountains. Closing to the peak of the pass, her sensitive ears picked up the sound of heavy hoofs. A horse with a heavy rider, as much was obvious to her. She climbed up the ledge near the final gap that divides the Anduin dale from the hights of the misty mountains and peeked down onto a dark figure riding a black steed. One of the kind you only see in Mordor or Nurn. Clad in heavy armor and adorned with thick spikes on his shoulders, and iron thorns around a distinctly painted helm, this stranger meant no good so close to Imladris and the lands of the west. She stepped forward and questioned his appearance on the pass with a solid but smooth voice.
Alvae: “Stranger, what would you seek up here?”
The figure was startled, though he might have expected to be stopped at some point, the appearance just above his head caught him unguarded. In response he raised a heavy shield and answered mockingly in a strangely southern accent of westron.
Kalmathzôr: “I am merely passing through, and even that does not concern you!”
To emphasize his ignorance of her appearance he added a cold chuckle to his words. Alvae looked him over, and nothing less did the dark clad human with her. Both counted their odds, and both instantly knew that this encounter wouldn’t end without bloodshed.
Alvae: “I hardly see you welcome beyond this point, and pointless in fact is your try to pass along”
His answer again was cool laughter and twisted words.
Kalmathzôr: “So tell me elfling, how could you stop me from passing this point?”
Alvae(imperativ): “Your way is back to where you came from!”
In answer to that issue Kalmathzôr advanced slowly, though cautious to a fact.
Alvae(imperativ): “Any step further and you shall regret it! This pass is closed for your kind and kindness you will not find in answer!"
During that words she had notched an arrow, directly aiming it at the human.
Kalmathzôr(angry): “Come down and stand for your words!”
Demandingly he pointed to the ground ahead of him with his sword.
Alvae(snippy): “Why don’t you crawl up here and show me that you have the gutts to offend me. Since I am not going to let you pass alive by all means.”
Kalmathzôr(enraged): “Come down now and stop me if you dare!”
Demandingly he pointed ahead of him with his sword once more.
Alvae(snippy): “Try to move on, and you shall be stopped!”
The stranger eyed the pass, then spoke grimly.
Kalmathzôr: “Your arrows won’t scare me, elfling!”
Alvae(cool): “Then why do you hesitate?”
In answer he drove his steed forward and charged for the gap.
Kalmathzôr(confident): “Defying me would be unwise!”
The elf acted quickly and sent a series of arrows at the dark figure, but failing to score an serious hit through his armor, she sent his steed down with a deadly blow. Though while she climbed down the slope, the human had already taken position in front of his dead steed, the radiant evil blade drawn and filled with hatred against her and her kin.
Kalmathzôr(in complete rage): “You will regret that elfling!”
Alvae(cool): “I told you that you wouldn’t pass that gap alive!”
Next the servant of the enemy lunged out at her, missing her just closely.
Alvae(cool): “Defend yourself!”
The agile elf imidiately struck back at him but missed her foe, who surprisingly moved with deadly speed aswell.
Kalmathzôr(determined): “False believes elf!”
After this a deadly dance started between the two, and for quite some time, none of the two managed to strike the other. Then the human, doubtlessly suprising the eldar female with his apt swordplay, managed to strike a cunning blow at her. In response though, she outmaneuvered him and scored several vicious hits. As the fight moved on and the the tide turned against the dark human, the surrounding wolves started to attack the elven maid, though with utter caution. But the dark clad human proclaimed haughtily.
Kalmathzôr(arrogant): “See elfling, you can not win this, even the wolves have taken my side!”
The wolves that now were distracting the elf, allowed the dark servant to score some hits, but after a while the wolves despaired and again the battle turned against the evil.
Alvae(firm): “The wolves might have chosen your side, but the Valar never will! Your end is night evil being, prepare to be undone!”
Still struggling against a serier of heavy blows the humans answered, heavily breathing.
Kalmathzôr(defiant): ”Prepare to become one with eternity, elfling!”
Her answer was quick though, and punished his pride. So finally the human started to pant and headed off towards the gap back to the Anduin dale, where he had come from. The wolves though saved his live that day, by sacrificing themselves and Even her precise shots with the bow couldn’t stop the escape of the dark human. So Alvae had nothing but a dead evil steed and a defended pass, that she could call a close victory over a surprisingly abled and cunning foe.

[highlander211]

It had hardly stopped raining in three days, and the streams of Mirkwood ran full and swift towards the Forest River. Not many eyes could spot the figures around the clearing, bows at the ready, and alert eyes scanning the gloomy oppressive trees. In the centre of the clearing crouched a single wood elf tracker, his brow furrowed in concentration as he fingered the soft earth. He rose slowly and turned to his Captain.
"I do not understand this Captain...we were right to investigate those sounds we heard yesterday, but I am at a loss to explain what the earth is telling me"

The Captain frowned, unused to hearing that his best tracker was defeated. "Go on Lathron, tell me what you have found anyway, we can report back to the Halls later".

The tracker walked slowly across the clearing to the pile of dead spiders. "These are recently slain, not more than a few hours ago. The grass and leaf litter is sodden from the rain, but over here is a burnt circle." He stopped and picked up some burnt leaves, sniffed them and recoiled at the stench. "But no natural fire was this, and the plants around it seem as if they have withered. There are strange footprints here also, like nothing I have seen before, like an animal that walked upright.”

Lathron motioned his Captain to follow him and they walked round the edge of the clearing. “See here…” the tracker pointed to a pile of bones, “they are old bones, but they look to have been dropped here almost. And there is a set of tracks that end at the bones, almost like bare feet, but they have sunk into the mud too much to make out the detail. There is a more recent corpse here too, near the bones. It has a foul stench about it as well, and the expression on its face is of…. much pain.” He tailed off , ran a hand through his hair and continued to look closely at the ground.

“There are tracks leading to and from here, all recent and that fit with the spiders and yesterday’s sounds. Three sets came into the clearing from the south. One heavy, human sized and probably metal shod, and the other smaller and lighter. The third set is the one that ends in the pile of bones, and does not emerge from it.”

He walked across the small wooden bridge over the rushing stream and the rest of the patrol slipped quietly along behind him. “The two sets of tracks that are leaving here turn to leave the wood…but here the heavier one seems to vanish for a while.” He crouched once more over the forest floor, and after several minutes rose again and walked on slowly for about twenty paces “And reappears here. Nothing in between except spider tracks, which are everywhere. And then they make for the edge of the wood, towards Long Lake.”

The Captain nodded slowly. “Good work Lathron. We should return to the report this I think. Something fell has passed here I feel…the air has something dark in it” He turned and whistled softly at the figures in the woods and the patrol vanished into the trees.

//thanks to Equi for the rp session that left the elves stumped. Valuable prize to the first know it all Dunadain that can help poor old Lathron out