Hytorax Part 2

[Lief Erikson]

Toward the heart of madness

"You have done well, Aasinav. My thanks . . ."

"And mine."

"And mine."

The other members of the Shadowhand's Ruling Council nodded their heads in agreement, and their eyes were all focused upon the gem in Aasinav's hand. It glowed green and white light, glimmering almost like an elven jewel in the darkness of the stark, bare edged room. There were chairs in a semi circle, and Aasinav stood before that semi circle, the Hytorax held out in his hand.

"It must be linked at once," said an older man from a corner. "Linked to the others, to the final connection. We have the skill and the power to do that, though it will take time."

"We can afford the time, Fhorin," Aasinav said smoothly. "Dagankor is even now dealing with the remainder of that pitiful band. They have no chance against his armed troops combined with his magic."

"Don't be so sure," Fhorin answered. "They have proved themselves resourceful already, as well as powerful."

Aasinav nodded, though he knew that the responsibility now rested entirely with the other man, and Dagankor was capable of accomplishing such a small thing. Dagankor and he had manipulated the company every step of its way since its creation, using it for their own purposes. Strange creatures had joined it on the way; it was an odd collection of races at the end. But it was still powerful and capable, and he'd channeled that energy down the path it should take.

"Come," Fhorin said, rising from his seat. "Let us go and place the Hytorax in its home. Aasinav, you have the honors."

Aasinav smiled slightly as he led the small group of men out of the council room and into an antechamber directly adjacent to it.

A blazing array of light and energy lay before them, a grid of connected magical items that it was difficult to focus the eyes on. Aasinav laid the Hytorax beside it. "It is ready to be merged with the rest."

"I shall summon those who constructed this much, at Vardor's order," Fhorin said, turning to leave. As he reached the door he stopped, turned and looked back at his comrades. "From now on, we work night and day until the magic is completed."

[Lief Erikson]

"Drop your weapons," Dagankor commanded in a loud voice.

The company stood where they were as if made of stone. They couldn't believe what had just happened.

"No!" Adrian cried, her temper getting the better of her. She whipped her sword from its sheath, and Glimdrell produced a long knife swiftly in his right hand. Aralle half crouched, but retained her human shape for the present. At least until the fighting began.

"Wait!" Hruad said, his voice hoarse and his eyes locked on Dagankor's face. He tore his gaze away and looked at the company behind him, dry eyed.

They all hesitated and looked back to him. Elise still hadn't moved, but she looked up quickly to his face. For a moment Hruad didn't move as the weight of decision churned in his mind. What hope had they, even with all their power and skills, against what was now at least a hundred fully armored soldiers? These weren't orcs, they were human infantry.

Dagankor also stood there like a coiled snake, ready to strike upon the slightest provocation. Vahatres sat behind him in his throne, motionless, barely seeming to see what was happening before him.

They were a handful against what was almost an army. But if they were captured, would they not be killed anyway? They might at least take the sorcerer with them.

What good would that do, in the long run?

Hruad turned back to Dagankor, startled.

Are you ready to die, and condemn all your band to death? Surrender, and you will be spared. We have the Hytorax and all the victory is in our hands. Fighting against us will cause a mere dent in our numbers, while surrendering gives you the chance to live and fight again. Dagankor smiled. Do you think you can really do much for your cause now? Kill a few men . . . what a great deed as you die.

"Leave him to make his decisions in peace," Elise said abruptly.

A man stepped out from among the ranks of soldiers wearing the emblem of the Shadowhand. He didn't wear it, but wore the insignia of Enedwaith. He bowed to Dagankor, and nodded his head to the soldiers in respect.

"Sir, I will take these rebels to the prisons, if you are willing."

Dagankor's eyes flitted to the man, and so did Hruad's. He looked at Dagankor again, and then to his comrades. Then, a moment later, he sighed heavily. "We surrender."

[Tessar]

Elise arched an eyebrow at Hurad and briefly considered leaving the company, her eyes still searching with an earth-piercing gaze and taking in both the enemy’s number and strength. If she caught him by surprise… No. There were too many mortals for her to use any real power.

Maybe if she could find a way to be alone with the sorcerer for even a moment… Yes that would do nicely. But until that time she would wait. Elise had no fear of death, but she had a task to do, and if she did not complete that task then there was no point in even being here.

“Drop your weapons.” a man said, shuffling nervously up to Elise.

With a scornful look that caused him to take a step back, Elise snorted and said, “Do I look like I have a weapon to you? Pawh! Where did you grow up? A farm?” the question was left unanswered and Elise leaned on her staff a little, hunching back over and grateful that she hadn’t shed her brown robes yet. Again she was simply a harmless old woman, leaning on a staff for support.

Elise let her eyes casually trail over the pile of weapons on the floor and she saw the boy… Yes, Asaar was definitely his name, draw his two daggers and drop them… But hadn’t he had some smaller ones? Elise’s face never flickered and instead she slumped more, as if realizing that all hope was gone. Maybe they would find the hidden ones, and for the boy’s sake she hoped not.

Aasinav… Yes that was a name she would remember. It was the name of a dead man.

[Finrod Felagund]

OOC: I think that Fimbren the elf and Entai the Griffin will start out together in the dungeons and meet you there ok?

[Mathron]

Aasinav returned to his room for much needed rest after the events of the last few days. He would be called back when the rest of the Council was closer to compiling the Hytorax into the magical matrix, but until then, he would meditate and regain his strength.

Sitting on his bed, he said softly, "Lómin."

The elvish word seemed to resonate in the air for a moment, and then the shadow within him stirred, and poured off of him, resolving into a humanoid shape. His own face stared back at him, a cruel smile upon it, waiting his commands.

"Keep watch," said the sage, "over Dagankor and those in his custody. Watch their actions, and report back to me when I awake. Do not be seen."

"Of course," whispered the shadow, "It shall be as you will."

It vanished without a sound, and Aasinav sighed with weariness. Binding one's own shadow self was a worthwhile effort, but draining, especially when he was already at the point of magical exhaustion.

But soon... soon, the Council's work would be complete. When the Hytorax was integrated, they would attain great power.
Knowledge was power. Thus, power was knowledge. With the magical might granted by their success, nothing would be hidden from Aasinav's mind.

He almost smiled before retiring to his bed, and letting sleep overtake him.

[Arat-Falathion]

“Drop your weapons!” The command rang like the reverberation of a thousand catedrals, what had just happened had startled the elf, he didn't see Aasinav's betrayal comming and now they were overpowered by a hundred men. Perhaps they would manage to fight back the soldiers, fight them back till the limit of their endurance, fight till they dropped in exhaustion, and then die a honorable death. No, the enemy was too strong, too many...

Glimdrell dropped his bow and quiver and slipped his beloved dagger out of its sheath and placed it jently on the floor. A soldier walked over to the pile to pick up the weapons at Glimdrells feet, confident that the elf wouldn't strike in his possition of being outnumbered.

The soldier swooped down and grabbed the bow and quiver, then went for the dagger. Glimdrell stopped him with a hand to the chest and whispered harshly: "I'll be comming after my dagger and bow, look behind you where the shadows grow!" The flickering fire in the elven eyes glowed fiercly at the soldier, and the man staggered a little before the elf let go of his grip, letting the soldier pick up his dagger. Glimdrell was surely ready for a fight right there and then, but he wasn't alone, he had to think of his comrades' safety, and never would he stand in a face to face fight, that wasn't the area of fighting he had developed.

Glimdrell thought about that for a moment... realizing how vulnerable he was in his place right now. Most likely the swordsman before him could outduel him face to face, even if the soldier only had very basic knowledge of the sword. Yes, Glimdrell was swift, agile and flexible. But that alone wouldn't help him face to face with his enemy. The realization struck him right there and then, the weakness was too great. If he ever got out of this alive, he would start to learn to master the sword, if he ever got out...

[Adrian Baggins]

I heard the drop wepons command and dropped mmy broad sword, thinking about my other wepons that this man, if man he was, knew nothing about. 'How can I get myself and the others out?' I wondered, then shook the though out of my head, that was my brother, all I had to worry about was how to get myself out. 'WOLF, Siwft was still out there, I could wait till everyone is asleep and then shift and talk to him.' The thought rang through my head, that was my plan, I would tell no one.

[Lief Erikson]

*Originally posted by Finrod Felagund
OOC: I think that Fimbren the elf and Entai the Griffin will start out together in the dungeons and meet you there ok?
Sounds fine. Fimbren's being in prison actually also gives him a good excuse to not be in Valinor at the moment, so that makes it all the better. This RPG is taking place a while after Sauron's fall, you see.*

Dagankor smiled as the company members slowly and reluctantly laid down their weapons. His soldiers came up among them as well, quickly feeling them, making sure no daggers or other weapons were hidden about them.

Finally one of them walked over to Dagankor. "They're all disarmed."

"Then take them to the prison levels," he said and walked over to one of the hall doorways.

The soldiers immediately laid hands on all of the company, beginning to hustle them in that direction. One by one they passed through the doorway, down toward the lower levels.

As Elise walked through the doorway though, Dagankor's hand darted out and he snatched her staff from her hands. She instantly tried to grab it back, but it was too late. He threw it out into the air and it landed on top of the other weapons. Then she was pushed through the hall as well, leaving Dagankor alone with only a few troops left.

"You'll find two large chests in my quarters," Dagankor told one of the soldiers. "Take these weapons and put them in the one close to the window. Don't look in the other."

The soldier nodded and walked over to the stack, but Dagankor headed back into Vahatres' quarters, to let him know what had just taken place.

[Finrod Felagund]

OOC: Just to let you know, Fimbren is a Noldorin elf lord who was originally from Valinor, a friend of Finrod and Galadriel, but chose to remain in Middle-Earth after Sauron's defeat to help heal the land. And he is good friends with Treebeard as well. One other thing, this takes place in Gondor correct?


ic: Fimbren could not believe he had been captured. "I thought that the men of this country were elf friends!" he said to the Griffin lying next to him on the floor who looked mournfully at him with great golden eyes. "Why" Fimbren complained, "And how? WHERE ARE MY WEAPONS?!?!?!" A guard came up and grinned. He only had one tooth. "They're safe, but 'choo wont be needin' 'em will yeh?" He giggled and walked away.
Fimbren slumped against the wall and sighed.

[Silverstripe]

ooc: The story takes place in Enedwaith.

[Earniel]

Ever since they had entered the citadel through the door near the stables Imarwyn and Tareod had encountered no one safe one or two guards whom they had avoided easily. The silence that hung in the citadel was unsettling.

"It's much to quiet here." whispered Tareod.

Imarwyn nodded. "Too true. There should have been plenty of people around here. Yet you hear almost nothing. I wonder where.... wait, listen."

Both stood still in the corridor. Not far off they heard voices and the clatter of weapons. Silently they crept closer to the source of the sounds. Imarwyn put her ear to the door. "Then take them to the prison levels," she heard an unpleasant voice say, followed by the sound of many feet. Quickly she pulled Tareod with her away from the door. "They're coming!" she hissed. They hid behind thick curtains that adorned the hall.

Much to Imarwyn's surprise she saw Hruad's little company pass by surrounded by soldiers. They had been intercepted. The scholar is missing, she noticed. Had he been killed? It would explain the downcast expression of the others.

There was still noice inside so they kept hidden. A few moments later another soldier left the hall, his arms full with weapons. Imarwyn recognized the bow and staff. When he also disappeared around the corner, the two Rohirrim came from behind the curtains.

"Things have apparantly gone awry." whispered Imarwyn with a frown. "They've been caught. Follow the soldier with the weapons, you won't have much difficulty following him with the noice he makes. Find out where those weapons are kept but don't take them yet. It would alert them to our presence. I'll try to see where the prisoners are brought to. Meet me back at the stables."

Tareod nodded. "Good luck Imarwyn and... be careful."

"Good luck to you too, Tareod." said Imarwyn and hurried after the guards and their prisoners. She could still hear their footsteps echo in the quiet corridors. Tareod watched her go and then stalked after the guard.

[Lief Erikson]

"What was that?"

"You haven't heard? People are beginning to be allowed back into the citadel now, but apparently it was largely sealed off because of a military operation going on."

The man looked Athalt up and down a little more suspiciously. "But you should know all about that; you're a captain, aren't you?"

"I'm not let in on everything that's going on. So what was the purpose of this operation?"

"We don't know yet, but apparently a government official named Dagankor was in charge of it. They're rather tight lipped on what was going on, but they let in a lot of strange soldiers today, with a black hand on their tunics. Disgusting, I find that. Foreign troops on Enedwaith soil!"

"Thank-you for your opinions."

Athalt left the man gaping at him and hurried on, his legs covering the earth in long strides as he crossed the ground. He felt he was pretty sure what this military operation would be; somehow they knew about Hruad's company. Athalt definitely had authorization to enter the prison levels, but Dagankor thought very little of him and his troops. He didn't realize, perhaps, that only magic and Athalt's changing his mind about the company had caused him from not taking the Hytorax. There was much that Athalt could still do, if he thought there was a chance of helping them. His own troops would believe him if he told them what was going on. The presence of the Shadowhand troops in the citadel would help give credence to his claims, but Athalt wouldn't act rashly. Hruad and his comrades had gone in in secrecy. Their survival and the possibility of saving this failed mission could lie in secrecy still.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren heard voices coming down the corridor. he faintly made ou that they were bringing a number of prisoners down to the cells.

[Lief Erikson]

A key rattled in the lock and then turned with a rusty squeak. The door was pushed sharply open and Fimbren stepped hurriedly back as a multitude of individuals were roughly pushed inside.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren looked at each of them for a moment and asked, "Who are you?"

[Lief Erikson]

Hruad groaned and sat down in a corner of the cell, putting his head in his hands. The others also looked stunned still; numb with shock.

Brilindil stepped from among the company and walked over to Fimbren. "We're a company that collected some weeks ago with the purpose of finding a magical item called the Hytorax, and using it to free the mind of the king. He is under the spell of a sorcerer named Dagankor. We have been betrayed into Dagankor's hands by one of our own, and they have the Hytorax now."

He rubbed a hand across his worn cheek, where a tear was beginning to trickle down. "We've failed, and Enedwaith is lost."

"Why are you here?" Adrian asked Fimbren, and he glanced down at the hobbit.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren frowned. "I don't know who this sorceror is but i was told I am in on his orders. You see I am very old, and fairly well known, and if I do say so myself a skilled warrior and quite powerful. I can only guess that he felt that I might try to stop him from his schemes, because I am the sworn protector of Middle-Earth. I am also a healer you see. This Griffin is called Entai. He killed an Enedwaith guard. But it was in self defense when the quard saw him he drew a sword and charged, Entai had no choice. We've both been in here two weeks. But tell me, what is this Hytorax? For I had heard whispered rumours of it even before you arrived."

[Silverstripe]

Aralle's eyes grew wide as she saw the other griffin, the golden-eyed Entai. She had not seen another of her kind since the war between griffins and gargoyles. It was all she could do not to run to Entai to ask how he had been, how he lived through the war, and whether he knew other griffins.

Though their enemies probably knew she was a griffin (Aasinav might well have guessed that from Aralle's story about a young griffin during the war), she couldn't risk carelessness now. There was still a chance that the sorcerer didn't know. Entai would know that Aralle was a griffin, anyway; griffins were rarely fooled by appearances.

[Earniel]

All in all I was lucky they were locked up in the lower levels, Imarwyn thought. There is less light here and more shadows to hide in. Though if someone was really looking for her not even the shadows would be enough to hide her.

Hidden she watched the prisoners being locked up. She made herself small into a dark corner when the guards returned. They passed without noticing her. So far so good. She now knew where the prisoners were kept. And it was useful to know they were all locked in one cell.

A moment she hesitated. If she could talk with them, she could learn what had happened and what had become of the Hytorax. But it was a risky thing to do, no doubt a guard could return any time to check on the prisoners. Still....

She pulled her hood over her head and stepped out of the shadows. Both the corridors to the right and left were empty and silent. Quickly she stepped to the cell door. The key was gone but that was to be expected. Standing on her toes she tried to look through the little metal grid in the door. But the inside of the cell was too dark. Yet she could hear the prisoners talk inside.

"Hruad! Glimdrell!" she whispered urgently. Quickly she glanced around her again but the coast remained clear. "Glimdrell, can you hear me?"

[Arat-Falathion]

"I hear you well." Glimdrell whispered softly with a smile, suddenly appearing from the shadows in a corner.

[Lief Erikson]

Hruad frowned a little as he stood up. "Who are you?"

"It's Imarwyn," Glimdrell said immediately, but it was plain that this name didn't mean anything to the politician.

"Are you a friend?" Hruad asked as he walked a couple steps closer to the door.

[Earniel]

"Yes. You have seen me before, I was with Athalt and his soldiers when they captured you at the forest."

She realised it wasn't the best thing she could say to prove she was a friend, but she didn't have much time to make speeches. Again she glanced around hurriedly.

"I know you have found the Hytorax in the Barrowdowns." she said. "But what went wrong? Why weren't you able to free the king?"

[Lief Erikson]

"One of our own betrayed us," Glimdrell answered. "The sage named Aasinav."

"Can you help us?" Hruad asked.

[Earniel]

Imarwyn blinked. "The scholar? He betrayed you?" She hadn't expected that. But it would explain the absence of Aasinav among the prisoners.

"Help you? I'm not so sure if I have any help to give. I am but a stranger here. But I think I know a man here who might. If I can find him, that is," she said. "But before I go, what became of the Hytorax?"

--------------------

Tareod watched the soldier leave the room without the weapons. The guard closed the door but did not lock it. Nearly as soon as his back was turned, Tareod opened the door as silently as he could. Somebody's living quaters are a strange place to keep prisoners' weapons, he mused. As these particular living quaters looked far from pleasant, Tareod found himself wishing not to meet the man who lived in them.

Two large chests drew his attention. Next to the one nearest to the window was the staff. It apparently was too large to fit in the chest. Inside it he found the rest of the weapons. He let them be as Imarwyn had asked. His eyes were drawn to the other chest. What would be in there, he wondered.

[Lief Erikson]

"Aasinav took it as he betrayed us," Hruad said. "You have our thanks for whatever help you can offer."

[Earniel]

"I will help you where I can. But now I must go. Goodbye for now." with that Imarwyn turned around and slipt back out the way she came.

[Lief Erikson]

"The Prime Council is summoned," Dagankor said as he walked back to Vahatres. He stopped a few feet from him and bowed low. "Sire, they await your presence."

Vahatres nodded and placed his crown upon his head as he strode into the chamber. He took in the gathered company quickly with his gaze, and his eyes paused on Dolais. "The man who helped Hruad?" he asked Dagankor softly.

"We suspect him very strongly, yes," Dagankor answered, a small cold smile crossing his face for a moment. "The rebel company plays into our hands in more ways than one. This meeting shall change the future of this country."

"As is necessary," Vahatres agreed firmly as he reached his throne on the top of the dias. He turned around and took his seat, and all the other representatives and land barons took their seats as well. Dagankor stepped off of the bottom step of the dias quickly and took his place in a chair a few feet from it, facing the council.

"A new event has taken place in our kingdom," Vahatres began. "The violent acts of the rebel group that was in Néred some time ago have been followed up again by an attempt on my life. The treachery of two trusted politicians shocked us then. Hruad and Brilindil were the first two to betray us, gathering a league of individuals in an attempt to murder my trusted councilor Dagankor. Since then they have consistently tried to frame him for being a sorcerer.

"Their league also dispatched individuals to attempt to steal the magical item called the Hytorax from the Barrow Downs. The strength of the company that was sent out was further proved by the fact that they disabled Athalt Cranain's entire force that followed and intercepted them.

"They have attempted to undermine our national security by breaking our new ties with the Shadowhand, the group of Istari that we have recently been gaining such close links to. The group that we have just recently given control of several of our castles to, in particular the great castle of Barrack Tar.

"And at the same time, they have attempted to steal dark magical power for themselves. We all know the evil that the Hytorax is full of and the shadows that it has dwelt in for centuries. Yet this is the power they have sought to claim to destroy our monarchy and place a new government in control.

"Do they think that the fall of Sauron has caused us to lower our defenses? Well, I fear it may actually have done just that."

The council members looked at each other, but several of them frowned, listening intently.

"These rogues have today penetrated my very citadel. They entered Néred despite the defenses that were set up, and launched an attack last night. They tried to kill me and my council member Dagankor. If they had succeeded, vast amounts of instability would have been caused in the kingdom between the Shadowhand and Enedwaith. The instability would have been used, you can be sure.

"We have gained further evidence that the attack last night was able to penetrate the citadel because they were permitted in by another regional representative. Just as Hruad betrayed us, another has betrayed us.

"Is it any surprise though?" he asked, not looking at Dolais yet. The man looked pale though, and he was sweating.

"Hruad betrayed us," Vahatres continued, "and he was a regional representative. Is it any surprise that this conspiracy to seize power has not spread further in the council?"

"Who is it?" asked one of the land barons loudly.

"The regional representative that betrayed us this time was Dolais," he said, staring directly at the man now.

Heads turned and murmers rose among the council members. Dolais didn't move; he was frozen in his seat in horror.

[Lief Erikson]

"But there are others, you can be sure," Vahatres said, drawing back the attention of the council to himself. He had their wrapt attention now.

"Aggressive measures must be taken, and taken at once to assure our national security. The danger is too great for this to continue, and I'm sure that you all are with me that we must ensure the safety of the realm. The regional representative comittees have long been corrupt, though many of you, I'm sure, are friends," he said, looking over the group. "But my life is in danger, and so are the lives of my people. I will not permit a political league to seize control of my kingdom. Some of you may have found my recent security precautions rather harsh. But I assure you that they were deemed necessary then because of the likelihood of something like this happening. With the lack of wars, our military has been lessened and our security has become lax. But security alone will not solve this problem. The problem lies in the very core of the way our government is run, among the people that have infiltrated and are seizing control of the politics in Enedwaith.

"I request your support in the dissolving of this council, for it has allowed evil to continue and grow. I am forced, unfortunately, take sole command of this kingdom, just as King Aragorn has done in Gondor and Eomer has done in Rohan. The power of the central authority is recognized by our shining examples in the East, and I think we can all see the need for it here."

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren woke with a start. He had been dreaming, but he knew it was more than a dream. He knew that this council meeting was happening right this moment. He had heard mention of Aragorn and Eomer, what he wouldn't give for their help now. He looked at the ring on his finger, the two serpents of Nargothrond. The ring of Barahir, given as a gift, for a time at least, by Aragorn. "Vahatres is taking complete control of Enedwaith" he said to no one in particular, "What am I to do?"

[Earniel]

On her way back up Imarwyn met some people here and there. Clearly they were returning now and no one really seemed to know why they had had to leave in the first place. But no one took notice of her or spoke to her. She now knew why the citadel had been so empty earlier. The enemy hadn't wanted any possible witness to the capture of Hruad's band.

Exiting the citadel she entered the stables. From there she had a good view on the people who were returning without being all too visible herself. And the stable boy didn't seem to mind her presence, in fact he kept a respectful distance. A few minutes later Tareod joined her.

"And?" she asked.

"The weapons are kept in a box inside someone's living quarters. A rather high placed someone judging by the look of his quarters."

Imarwyn nodded. "Well done. Did anyone notice you?"

"No one that cared about it."

"We'll have to be even more careful from now on. Hruad told me that they were betrayed by one of their own."

Tareod whistled lowly. "That's not so good. What do you plan to do now? I hope you're not thinking about breaking into the prison, rescuing the prisoners and recapture the Hytorax with just the two of us."

"No, I am not. It wouldn't work. No, we need someone who holds some authority in Enedwaith. And I think I know just the right man for that. Incidentally he's also about the only one whom I'm willing to trust with this matter. And speaking of the devil..." she said as she saw the subject of their conversation walk by.

Quickly she motioned Tareod to stay and left the stables to intercept Athalt. he turned when he heard her coming. If he was surprised at seeing her here, he didn't show it. But the frown told Imarwyn that he at least heard some part of what had happened in the citadel.

"Lord Cranain," she said, "I would like to have a word with you concerning the horse I trained for you."

It was an innocent enough thing to say for a horsetrainer. But Athalt took the hint immediatly and followed her into the stables. There she briefly introduced him to her brother before she came to business.

"I take it you've heard that our friends were unsuccesful." she said.

[Mathron]

Aasinav's shadow resumed solid form as it settled on the ground outside of the capital of Enedwaith. To the casual eye, it had the same features as the sage - save for its skin and garb being colored in black and gray. And, even worse, were its eyes - filled with cruelty, and malice, and hatred for all living things.

The shade laughed. The more Aasinav left it free to run errands for him, the more freedom the shadow gained. It exulted in its false life.

It approached the gates of the city cautiously. It was to stay hidden, it knew. Aasinav had not said as much, but the shadow *was* Aasinav, in a way, and understood exactly what its mission was.

To observe. And only to observe.

It grinned to itself as it slipped over the wall of the city, as silent and hidden as any other shadow...

[Lief Erikson]

"I take it you've heard that our friends were unsuccessful," she said.

"I am aware of it," Athalt said. "The public is fast becoming aware of it too; it wasn't a very well kept secret. I think the only reason the king emptied that section of the citadel is that he didn't want public disapproval at the presence of the Shadowhand soldiers. Shadowhand soldiers have openly taken key guardian positions of the citadel. Little can happen here without their becoming aware of it, but they have an excuse. Unfortunately the move of that company opened an excuse for King Vahatres to take additional security measures."

"You mean he's using this attempt?" Tareod asked.

"Dagankor is using it," Athalt corrected him. "He has been using that company since the beginning of its creation. From beginning to end, he has manipulated it and its purposes. Now even as it collapses, its collapse fits Dagankor's end. Vahatres has no say in the matter. He's lost his mind."

[Earniel]

"From the beginning to the end." Imarwyn cursed softly. "This whole thing was planned right down to Hruad's group finding the Hytorax for them and Aasinav's betrayal. They're playing a game and we're the pawns. Curse them!"

"Let's hope they don't have anything equally nasty in store for us." said Tareod a little concerned. "They are ahead of us at each step and I don't like being manipulated."

[Lief Erikson]

"But I don't see how they could possibly know about our change of heart, or have anticipated that," Athalt said. "We must try, somehow, to work against Dagankor ourselves."

They were silent for a moment, and then Athalt spoke again. "Dagankor's control of the kingdom all lies in his control of Vahatres. His manipulation of Vahatres' mind is the key to his control of the kingdom. Just as through Grima, Saruman controlled Theoden, so through Dagankor, the Shadowhand controls Vahatres, and through him, Enedwaith. Dagankor's power has now risen to the point that his is in charge of Enedwaith. The way to strike a crucial blow against his power is the same as it was from the very beginning of the company. They sought to destroy Dagankor's hold on Vahatres' mind; well they were right in that goal. If they had succeeded, there would have been a solid base from which the rulers of the kingdom could act to throw out the Shadowhand. Even if we save Vahatres now, the Shadowhand has a vast amount of control already. But saving Vahatres now could still be the first step to gaining the foundation from which we must launch our assault."

"How could we save Vahatres, though?" Tareod asked.

"Breaking the spell is the only way," Athalt said. "And I only know of one person we can trust who has the magic to break that spell. That is Elise."

"Would rescuing them from prison really help?" Imarwyn wanted to know. "It would simply alert them that there are more of us."

"They already know that," Athalt said. "The taking of the company's weapons proved that to them. If we rescued them, we'd have to act swiftly to keep Dagankor off balance. We'd have to strike fast and quickly."

[Tessar]

Elise moved slightly and sighed.

"It is not so simple to tamper with another's magic." Elise murmured softly, "It is filled with traps and pitfalls... And I fear that many are unviewable untill you find them in an unpleasant way..."

"I have a dagger!" the boy Assar piped up from a corner, "D' you think you could use it to pick the lock?"

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell smiled a wide grin at Assar. "Cunning boy, very cunning!" Glimdrell spanned his hand for the dagger. "My arms are slim and at one with daggers. An extention of my own hand you might say." Glimdrell snickered. "My arms should get between the ironbars and bend enough to get it into the lock. I would give my life to try atleast."

[Arat-Falathion]

Assar snickered softly. "You know to speak highly of youself, Glimdrell. You must be a master at your art."

Glimdrell returned the smile. "There is a difference between being honest of oneself and speaking highly of oneself, my good friend." Glimdrell patted Assar on the shoulder and smiled warmly. "You are a good man Assar, but be careful! If you leave the path of selfhonesty, you will get lost in the web entangeling the grove around it, you´ll walk into darkness and get lost..."

Glimdrell took the dagger and soon was eagerly trying to pick the lock... Then the sound of approaching stepps suddenly echoed down the corridor...

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren felt helpless. He should have been able to open that lock. It was just a simple lock, but even with his great power he could not open that simple lock. "Try it Glimrell" he said. "Get us out and I will fight ot the end next to you"

[Lief Erikson]

"Are you sure trying to rescue them is wise?" Tareod asked, quietly. "You know, they have Dolais a prisoner also. Rescuing those prisoners might add people to our side, but would it solve the situation?"

"We need them if we're to rescue Vahatres," Athalt said.

"Dagankor is no fool," Tareod said. "They will be heavily guarded. And any attempt to rescue them could end up in simply more of us being captured, which would add further evidence to the false claims Dagankor has been making."

"If we can save him . . ."

"I'm not arguing with our rescuing the king," Tareod said. "I think that that's a good idea- only trying to save those prisoners is both impractical and dangerous."

"You're right," Athalt said as he stood up. He wiped straw off his pants for a moment, and then leaned back against one of the beams supporting the stable roof. Suddenly he paused, an idea striking him. "But then, there is another possibility that I hadn't considered. We might not be so completely without allies as I thought."

[Earniel]

Imarwyn raised a questioning eyebrow. "What other allies do you have in mind?"

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell smiled respectively at Fimbren. "That would have been a honorable end, but I do believe there is another way."

A sudden click in the lock produced a satisfying grin on Glimdrells face. "Wait here..." He whispered to the others.

Glimdrell opened the celldoor quietly, closed it behind him, and with a sudden leap against the wall opposite to the cell he dissapeared up into the darkness of the ceiling.

"Hello my dear servants!" a sudden bark echoed down the slim cell corridors. The aching sound of club against metallbars rang as he approached the cell. A huge man, both in height and width towered before the jailed fellowship. He was clad in battered leather, and the smell he produced witnessed of a bad hygeen. His head was bald, his eyes were cold and his grin was wide.

"How are we today, pittifull beasts?" He spat. His large hands took a good hold of each one's metalbar and clenched till his knockles whitened. How much he'd like to beat them up, torture them! But his orders had told him otherwise, and he did not dare to go agenst his masters, even he wasn't that stupid. He kicked a devestating kick into the bars, causing it to bend, causing the unlocked celldoor to swing up.

"What the...?"

A shadow suddenly cought his attention in the corner of his eye, but it was allready too late, the daggerblade was tightening on his throat. He ended his sentence there, only gaping in terror of the unexpected attacker. A sudden twist of the blade cought Glistenfae's attention, she remembered how she once had suffered that same move. But this time she watched in total awe, the hatred she had felt ever since that happening was all gone. The hilt of the dagger crashed against the back of the jailors head, and he fell limply to the floor.

[Mathron]

Shadow crept through the halls of the castle. He knew no fear of discovery - he could fade to mere darkness with a thought. He was designed to be a being of stealth - his being was, indeed, an antithesis of normal magic. A shadow to the eyes, to the mind, to the soul - he had no fear of being spotted.

He strolled through the walls, partaking of the different conversations - acquanting himself with the nuances of the Enedwaith politics. What little remained of them, that is, after the Shadowhands meddling.

He was here to investigate, and nothing more. An eye on the heroes, if Dagankor hadn't already killed them. An eye on Dagankor himself, regardless.

Shadow chuckled. This promised to be fun.

[Lief Erikson]

"My soldiers," Athalt answered Imarwyn with a smile. "We are heroes here, or at least we were heroes until recently. I will be permitted to bring my men into the citadel, and I needn't ask permission to get them access. What we do with them after getting them in still needs to be discussed, though. I need Elise in order to rescue Vahatres; separating him from Dagankor or killing Dagankor are unlikely to succeed in breaking the spell on his mind. There's a risk that in killing Dagankor, we kill Vahatres as well. That would throw the kingdom into turmoil and possibly bring the Shadowhand complete direct control. They have enough military and political sway in the kingdom now to do that, I'd imagine."

"Why haven't they done that already, then?" Tareod asked.

Athalt didn't hesitate. "Because they- oh!"

"What?"

His eyes had widened in realization. Athalt turned to Imarwyn and Tareod, a look of horror crossing his face. "Because they needed him to dissolve the council and bring all power to a central authority. Now they have the central authority, but with Vahatres gone, central authority will disappear. They will be the last solid power in the land, and will be able to engage complete, legal military rulership of the kingdom."

"Then there is nothing stopping them from killing the king now?" Imarwyn asked, standing up.

"Nothing," Athalt said. "Nothing except lacking a scapegoat. Thank goodness that company is in prison, otherwise it takes little guessing what use Dagankor will put them to next . . ."

[Lief Erikson]

"Aasinav?"

Aasinav looked up as Dagankor's face appeared in his fireplace, the sorcerer's dark eyes burrowing into his own at once. Aasinav smiled coolly in greeting, his face revealing nothing.

"Your shadow, Aasinav," Dagankor said. "I need it."

[Lief Erikson]

"So one of us must get to the king, and protect his life," Athalt said, instantly looking at Tareod. "I realize that it would be near impossible for any of us to accomplish this goal, and Dagankor is hardly likely to let the king out of his sight until he chooses a suitable assassin. But I must bring in my soldiers. Perhaps by myself I will be able to get Elise out of the prisons, at the same time as a strike takes place on the king. If we can seize him and escape with him, proceeding from there to get Elise in contact with him, we might succeed in countering Dagankor.

"But Tareod, I need you to watch the king as closely as you can and protect him."

"Yes, I see the need," Tareod said at once. "But how?"

"Pretend to be an ambassador from King Eomer, to discuss a possible alliance," Athalt said with a smile. "Make stuff up; it doesn't have to be for long.

"Meanwhile, I will get my troops in here and put them into strategic positions to assume temporary hold of the parts of the citadel we need."

[Lief Erikson]

"We need to reach the king as soon as we can," Hruad said as he stepped over the unconscious jailor. "Too many of the people here are Shadowhand soldiers. But we need to also get our weapons. I think I could find the way to Dagankor's quarters, and that's where they have a good chance of being at."

Glimdrell nodded. "Good. I'll go with you."

"The rest of you need to find a safe place to hide yourselves," Hruad said. "Bril, you know the citadel. Find them a place with someone you can trust, while we procur the weapons. But try to make it close; we need to be able to save the king soon. Everything depends on speed."





"You two," Dagankor commanded, looking at two of the sixteen guards at the prison entrance. "You will remain in position here, guarding the jails. The rest of you, go and reinforce the soldiers guarding the citadel gates. Increase security and beware of whom you let through.

"In the light of the recent assassination attempt that was made on King Vahatres' life, people will consider these precautions good and sensible. But you really must look carefully; don't let too many men in whom we don't know."

[Arat-Falathion]

Assar and Gil pulled the jailor into the cell, took his keys and locked the door, they cought quickly up with Bril and the others.

Glimdrell walked stealthily a few feet in front of Hruad, tuning all his sences, bringing forth the cunning of his skills. He walked oblivious to his pace, instinct working for the mere reason of performing to the maximum.

He reached the dungeon door. He signaled for Hruad to freeze. Glimdrell brought his ear up close with the wooden door.

"You two!" A commanding voice broke through the door. "You will remain in position here, guarding the jails. The rest of you, go and reinforce the soldiers guarding the citadel gates."

Glimdrell produced a wide grin, fortune was with them. He walked silently over to Hruad. "Only two guards guarding the entrance, but we need to get to them before they cry out for reinforcements." Glimdrell whispered. "Any ideas?"

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren pulled his black hood close about his bright face. He rushed up out of the dungeons after Glimdrell.

[Lief Erikson]

Hruad shook his head. "No, just do the best you can."

Suddenly another elf had joined them, and he started in surprise. "Fimbren. Could you do anything to help us with these two?"

[Arat-Falathion]

"Who two?!" Fimbren shot back as he stopped abruptly right behind Glimdrell. "There are two guards at the door. We need to take them out, or at least pass them, without them alerting the whole citadel."

"Hmm..." Fimbren looked around, his eyes setteling on Assar and Gil who pulled the big jailor into the jail. "Think any of you could feign a voice similar to that jailor?"

Glimdrell smiled. "I understand your idea! But I'm afraid I have no chance in making such a harsh voice, few elves can..." His eyes settled on Hruad. "I don't suppose you could give it a try? You would be the best suited of us all, and the voice only need to be similar. I could only discern the words they were saying through that door, making out other then basic characteristics of the voices was difficult!"

[Earniel]

Imarwyn looked with some amusement at her brother. "Well, well... who would have thought you'd make it to ambassador. Mother would have been so proud."

Tareod shot her a glance.

"In any case," Imarwyn continued again serious, "You'd better get started. It's not entirely impossible that Dagankor will use the current confusion to rid himself of Vahatres. How quickly can you get your soldiers ready, Athalt?"

[Lief Erikson]

"Not longer than an hour," Athalt answered. "I'll get to it at once.

"You want to come with me?" he asked Imarwyn. "Or stay here and help in your own way?"





Hruad looked doubtful, but Bril slapped him on the back heartily. "Go for it, my friend! And don't worry if you do badly; we can always overwhelm them by sheer numbers."

Hruad rolled his eyes and walked over to the door, clumsily, stomping occasionally. "Open up!" he barked gruffly.

"Already?" asked one of the guards in amusement. "Too bad they weren't in separate cells like they are back at the castle we came from. Bet you don't like the rules they have here about treatment of prisoners."

"Don't be stupid!" Hruad growled back. "One of the prisoners . . . there's some trouble, you aughta come see. Now!"

"What's wrong?" the guard asked, but the door swung open and he stepped inside. Hruad and Fimbren were on him in a moment, and Glimdrell silkily leapt through the door, catching the other guard around the throat.

[Arat-Falathion]

A second later both guards were in sweet dreams, and they placed the guards in a cell. The swords of the guards was given to Fimbren and Entai, they had no weapons to recollect from Dagankor's quarters.

"Hmm..." Fimbren shot in a second time. "Perhaps those guardian clothes could come to use?" He cocked an eye on Glimdrell and Hruad. "Perhaps those would make your way to the lost weapons easier?"

[Lief Erikson]

Hruad looked very doubtful. "I've never handled a blade in my life."

"Hopefully you won't have to," Fimbren said with a grin.

"How will you come? And aside from my knowledge of the citadel's layout, I don't think I'd be much use on a mission like this."

"You forget what the mission is," Fimbren said as he grabbed onto one of the guards and slung him over his shoulder, moving back into the dungeon.

Glimdrell already was grabbing the other guard and dragging him in.

"I suppose I'll be the fat jailor," Hruad said with a small grin.

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell chuckled heartedly. "I'm not going to put you through that torture of wreckless and stinking aromas against your own will, but yes. It is quite obviously, Hruad. Try not to take it too personal tough." A light giggle left Glimdrells mouth as Hruad turned on him, an ironic grin covering his lips.

"I lost several pounds on the trip to the Barrow Downs!" Hruad shot back. "I don't doubt your claim. Yet you'd fit better into the jailors clothes than any of us," Glimdrell said with a glee, his smile going from eartip to eartip. "Bah!" Hruad barked, silent chuckles surrounding him.

[Earniel]

"I will remain here." said Imarwyn with a pat on Tareod's shoulder, "In case something still goes wrong with our ambassador's mission I'll be of more use here. Nobody seems to mind my presence here, most of them remember I entered Néred with your company. They won't stop me."

[Lief Erikson]

They had finished moving the men into the dungeons, now. Choosing an empty one, the three of them opened the doors and dragged the unconscious soldiers and dead jailor inside.

Their changing clothes didn't take long.

"Once upon a time, I smelled normal," Hruad said morosely as he stepped out of the prison.

Glimdrell laughed again, and leaning closer, sniffed Hruad a little. "I notice no difference from your ordinary smell."

Hruad aimed a kick at the elf and it caught him in the leg, but he stumbled a moment later over the baggy ends of the trousers.

"At least they're not orc clothes," Fimbren said encouragingly.

"Besides!" Glimdrell continued, "they suit you! Don't worry about your appearance!"

Hruad tried to scowl, but laughs kept bubbling out of the corners of his mouth. They'd had precious little to laugh about during their journey; this was a small relief from the tensions that had held of late. But not a complete release. In the back of Hruad's mind was still the nagging feeling that he'd forgotten something. He knew the likelihood of their mission's succeeding was slim.

As they left the prison level again, they were surprised to encounter the rest of the company waiting for them in the passage.

"What are you doing out here?" Glimdrell hissed.

"The prisons is no place for us to wait," Bril said. "I can take us to an unoccupied cellar; you know where the cellars are, Hruad."

"No, I don't."

"Well, it's down a staircase in the room behind the room through that wall," Bril answered, pointing to his right. "I suppose you don't drink enough wine; go to more parties, when this is over."

"Why do you plan to wait there?"

"Because," Bril said patiently, "if anyone comes down here and finds the prison unguarded and the doors open; any change of shift at all, and our cell will be checked. They'll lock us up at once, or kill us. We'd be at a disadvantage, while in the cellars at least we're not in their hands from the outset."

A man in a green shirt with white pants stepped through the door and his eyes widened in shock as he saw them. "What . . .?"

Fimbren ran up to him and slammed the man's head against the wall.

"You get my point?" Bril asked, walking past Hruad up to the door. Fimbren through the man in, and Bril closed the door, hard.

"I understand," Hruad said. "Be careful, and fight as few people as you can manage."

"We will," he said with a roguish grin.

Hruad gave him one final piercing look, and then headed off through the doorway, Fimbren and Glimdrell behind him.

[Lief Erikson]

"Right," Athalt said with a nod. He glanced from one to the other of them once more, and then left them.

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell felt little comfortable in the new clothing he had dressed himself in, but he understood that it was for the best cause. Hopefully noone would recognize them for whom they really were. Again the reminder of the vulnerability he would face if they were spotted and had to fight their way out in a melee.


*just realized I have no clue of how to spell wournability...?...?...?* :p

[Lief Erikson]

*I don't know what you mean by wournabilitly. It's not an English word.*

Hruad led them quickly through five passages, up a flight of stairs and then out into the upper parts of the citadel. The numbers of people here were greater, the number of courtiers and now aimless representatives. The number of soldiers up here was less, but Hruad looked more concerned.

"I know some of these people," he muttered irritably, under his breath. "If they think to look twice at a Shadowhand jailor, we're in trouble. And we stand out in these clothes."

Fimbren felt the helmet that covered his ears gingerly with he hands, and Hruad led them at a swift pace away from the ground level halls. He mounted a staircase, and three Shadowhand guards at the top of it looked at them with intent suspicion. A jailor leading two soldiers? A jailor whose clothes didn't fit him, if they looked more closely.

"What are you doing up here?" one of them asked, stepping in the way.

"Get out of my way!" Hruad snapped, stopping just inches away from the man, and forcing him to take a step back, regardless of the fact that he was taller than Hruad by several inches. "I'm reporting to Dagankor's quarters, as he requested, giving him information on what we've been hearing in listening to the prisoners' conversation. You know, the recent prisoners. Now move!"

The soldier did, sullenly, and the other two seemed to be pretending they hadn't had anything to do with impeding them.

Hruad pushed his way past the man, elbowing him a little even though he wasn't in the way, and the man grunted, staring at him balefully as he passed. Glimdrell favored him with a wide grin, and the guard's expression took on an edge of confusion.

But then they were all three past them, and up in the hall, the same hall they'd been captured in before, outside the king's quarters.

"This way to Dagankor's room," Hruad said, hurrying them through the hall to the end of it. "There's a back entrance right this way."

[Mathron]

Aasinav glanced at the fireplace, and raised an eyebrow. "Explain."

The image of Dagankor smiled, and he said, "You are wise enough to be able to see that for yourself, Aasinav - are you not?"

The sage frowned, and then shrugged. "My shadow is not a toy to be used for whims. You know enough about it to know how dangerous its use is. And there are others of the Shadowhand who have tools just as suited for your purposes."

He did not add: And I have already sent it a mission, and that mission includes keeping an eye upon you.

Dagankor's smile grew cold. "Very well. If that is your answer, so be it. I had hoped that a brother of the order would be more cooperative with our mutual needs, but if that is not the case, that is your choice." His image vanished abruptly, and the flames in the fireplace went out immediately.

Aasinav sighed, and walked over to the fireplace, lighting it again and stirring the wood with a poker. He despised politics, both among the order itself, and among the world in general. The Shadowhand had what they needed to gain the power - and knowledge - desired. What use had they for consolidating their hold on a petty kingdom.

He shook his head, and returned to his research.

[Earniel]

OOC: Do you perhaps mean vulnerability, Arat?


As Athalt left them, both Tareod and Imarwyn went their own way. Imarwyn slipped back into the citadel through the door at the stables.

But Tareod took the more visible route and went to the main gate of the citadel. Entering through there seemed more befitting to his disguise as new ambassador of Rohan than sneaking in through a back door.

At the gate he made his errand known to the guards. Though they looked on him with some curiousity, they soon let him in the care of an official who would escort Tareod to the king.

[Lief Erikson]

"An ambassador is here to see the king."

Dagankor was annoyed. He didn't have time for this, and right now of all times? If Eomer had waited just a few more days, the ambassador would have been more than welcome, and would have been dealing directly with the Shadowhand. As it was, this was rather annoying.

"Show him in," he said, his voice quiet.

The man bowed and hurried away, leaving Dagankor alone for the moment. He fingered his sword's hilt thoughtfully, and picked up an ordinary dagger from the mantle piece. This he slid into a sheath beneath his robes.

Walking back across the living area, he was just reaching for the door handle when he froze.

A door was softly being pushed open in the adjacent room; he could hear it. Light footsteps coming in, oh, so light. The elves. They were exactly why Dagankor had wanted the Aasinav's Shadow in the first place; it wasn't a mere whim.

They were in his room already then, were they? They'd moved faster than he'd anticipated. He could handle that, though.

Opening the main door, he slipped out and eased it closed behind himself again, gently.

He turned around to find himself face to face with a young man, along with his officials. The man from Rohan, Dagankor realized at once. Things were indeed moving fast.

"You're very quiet at closing your door," the man said, smiling slightly. "Someone sleeping, within?"

"It is a pleasure to meet you, ambassador," Dagankor answered, forcing a small answering smile. "You wish to see the king, I presume? Right this way."

He led the man over to the adjacent room and opened it. Vahatres sat inside, alone. He looked weak, regardless of the strength he'd so recently been showing as he made his speech to the council.

"This is the ambassador from Rohan, my king," he said, quietly. Tareod walked inside and Dagankor closed the door behind him, remaining outside.

Now, to work.

[Arat-Falathion]

*Clap clap Eärniel! That was the word I was looking for! :D :D *

Glimdrell and Fimbren followed easily after the long, determined strides of Hruad, but hold a little distance -just enough to escape the worst stench of the jailor's leather suit. Suddenly Hruad turned and whispered. "We are here."

[Earniel]

OOC: *bows* But I had to look up the right spelling anyway. :D

Tareod wondered briefly what other pressing matters the counsellor had to attend to, to leave so hurriedly. But he quickly pressed it into the back of his mind. He himself had other things that demanded his attention.

The king motioned him to come closer. Tareod obeyed and bowed during which he quickly studied the king. The man before him looked worn, which Tareod assumed, was the effect of the control the enemy held over him.

He finally shook off the last shreds of the ill ease he had been feeling. It was too late to turn back now. He could only hope to keep up the deception long enough.

"Hail, King of Enedwaith!" he said " My name is Tareod. I am send by my lord, King Éomer of Rohan who wishes for an alliance with thee."

[Lief Erikson]

"An alliance?" Vahatres glanced at the door Dagankor had just passed through, wishing that the other man had stayed. His advice on this issue would have been useful. "A military alliance?"

"Military as well as trade."

"Our countries are already trading . . ." Vahatres glanced at the door again. "I think I would like to discuss this matter with my councilors; I must give it some thought. I will see that some suitable quarters are made for you."





Hruad glanced about the place. "Nice room," he muttered, but he couldn't help but feel uneasy at being in the place. He felt as though a pair of eyes were watching him from behind, yet that was impossible.

He took a couple steps deeper into the room, looking about him, carefully. "Our weapons are in here somewhere . . ."

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell snickered at Hruads remark. It had been so obvious to the elf as he entered to room. Two large chests were placed in the room. One under the window, and one beside it closer to the bookshelf.

"The weapons must be in one of those" Glimdrell reasoned as he stepped further into the room, pointing in the chests' direction. "Be careful though, one might hold a trap of some kind."

"Macigal trap would be my guess..." Fimbren muttered under his breath.

[Mathron]

Shadow drifted through the cracks in the castle walls, smiling to himself at the scene he had just witnessed. The prisoners, escaping already!

But it was not his place to do anything about it. Nothing direct, in any case - he was here to observe.

'Observe', mused the Shadow to itself. If these prisoners did, indeed, escape, he would have to keep track of them. But he couldn't watch them alone - he had to keep up his observation of the other events in the city as well. Aasinav's orders had been clear on that - the prisoner's were not his only interest. But perhaps there was a way...


He slipped though the shadows of the citadel with ease, and soon found himself at his goal. Where that councilor, Dolais, was being held. He had begun his spying in the city just in time to see the man taken and imprisoned... and now saw he him as a potential pawn to be used.

Am I just a pawn? wondered Shadow. Does it even matter?

The councilor's prison was locked and barred. One guard stood in front of it, his eyelids flickering between opened and closed as he sought to fight off sleep.

Shadow laughed to itself as it manifested out of the wall behind the guard. It could easily help that sleep along - a good thing, as any more impressive displays would obviously leave the mark of magic, and he couldn't have that...

The guard shivered for a moment as dark hands touched his head. He felt cold, but his weariness grew even deeper, and he slowly slid back against the wall and to the floor, asleep.

Shadow manifested itself a physical form outside the door. While it could assume any form while intangible, it could only wear one while physical - that of Aasinav. Perfect for its purpose.

In moments, the Shadow was indistinguishable from the sage, all traits of darkness gone from its skin and eyes. It smiled maliciously - and then smoothed over that smile, putting on the serious and concerned expression of the sage.

He lifted the guard's keys and opened the door. The room was a stately chamber, though no less a prison for all that.

Inside, Dolais sat on a hard wooden chair, staring blankly at the wall. He looked up in confusion at the apparent sight of Aasinav hurrying in. His eyes widened in surprise.

"What are you doing here? We were told that all the company was captured... I thought all hope was lost."

"It may yet be," said the Shadow, "For only I was able to avoid being captured. Even worse, a creature has dogged by steps and betrayed the company, wearing my form. It may be able to take the shape of other creatures as well - beware any you meet!"

Dolais paused, and then nodded. "I understand. I shall be careful. But why have you freed me, if the others are imprisoned? Surely they can do more for the cause than... I."

The Shadow laid a friendly hand on Dolais's shoulder. "We all have our parts to play, and I would not leave you here to be executed. The others have already begun to engineer their escape. I would help, but have been trying to track the fell beast that wears my shape."

He drew Dolais out of the room, and gestured to the sleeping guard. "Take his sword. I shall tell you where to find some of the company, who are hiding from danger right now. You can lend them assistance if they find trouble - and more importantly, carry my word of warning, of the creature that wears my shape. You can tell of its nature if you examine its eyes, for the center of them will be blacker than the darkest night."

Dolais nodded again. "Then perhaps," he said smiling, "some hope still does remain after all."

Aasinav's shadow smiled back as it began to lead him down the safest route through the hallways. He would send the councilor to the party, carrying the confusion of his warning. Whether they figured it out or not failed to matter - it would leave them unsure, and that would weaken them.
More importantly, the mark he had left on Dolais's shoulder - a mark unseen by sight or spell - would let him find them whenever he needed to.
Though the smile the Shadow wore was kindly, the smile it carried within was the grin of a hunting wolf.

[Lief Erikson]

"We cannot avoid looking in places the weapons might be in, on the simple chance that there's a spell," Hruad said. "We have no way of knowing, and it would greatly inhibit our ability. However, there is a simpler way to discover whether our weapons are in those chests or not."

He walked over to the one by the bed and seized hold of its side with his hands. He gave a mighty heave and tugged the chest over onto its side, listening closely to the sound inside.

He looked up at the elves.

"Can't tell," Fimbren said. "Some thumping noises, but I can't tell exactly."

Hruad walked over to the one at the window and turned that one over. Both elves shook their heads vigorously- "nothing."

"Then we have no choice but to go for it," Hruad said. Reaching down, he tried the latch. It was locked.

He glanced up at the other two, and Glimdrell withdrew the dagger, inserting its tip into the lock. A moment later, it clicked.

Glimdrell placed his hands on the lid and pulled it upward.

The box was full of books, documents and sheafs of paper.

[Arat-Falathion]

"Aye! Only paperwork. Then the weapons must be placed in the other." Glimdrell looked to the chest under the window.

Fimbren standing closest walked over and tried to lift the latch, but it was locked as well.

"Glimdrell?"

Glimdrell quickly produced the dagger and fitted it into the lock, starting to pick it...

*Oh... :p sorry about that :rolleyes: *

[Lief Erikson]

*The one they just opened was the one by the bed.*

"Obviously, then, our weapons aren't in either," Hruad said, glancing around the room again. "Shall we continue our search of the chamber, then?"

[Arat-Falathion]

Fimbren nodded and started off to the bed side again, examining under and around the bed.

Glimdrell still searched the chest he had just managed to pick. Thisone also being full of paper, but he senced something here, some sort of magic...

[Lief Erikson]

*Sorry :D. There's no magic in there that I can think of. There might be, however; there's not necessarily any need to edit the post. I simply can't think of what it might be, at present.*

Glimdrell suddenly paused in his shuffling through the papers. One of the ones he'd just passed over . . .

He picked it up again. Sure enough, he hadn't been mistaken. It appeared to have the word "Hytorax" written on it.

Glimdrell quickly scanned the paper, slowing down in interest. A history of the Hytorax? Logical it had been around the top, then.

Quickly, he stuffed the paper under his belt. The magic would have to wait; whatever it was, it had little to do with finding their weapons, and speed was everything. He went to help his friends in their search.

[Lief Erikson]

Tareod sought around desperately in his mind for some way in which he could stay near the king. Being treated as an ambassador was all well and fine, but he needed to protect him, not just lie to him. The lying wasn't the point of his visit.

But the servant who held his arm had it in an iron grip, and was leading him resolutely away from the king's quarters.

He had to think of something!

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren frantically searched for his weapons. "You have no idea" he whispered frantically. "I have the sword Ringil...Fingolfin's sword! It cannot be lost."

[Tessar]

Elise frowned and hurried over to the chest, she had felt something when it was opened...

Kneeling down in front of the wooden box, Elise traced a design lightly over it with her finger and murmured softly as she attempted to find the magic.

There was no spell in the box, but traces of magic still lingered. Whatever it had been was gone now, and that was likely a very bad thing if they wanted to get out alive.

Elise looked up and frowned at each person in turn, her gaze piercing them and searching. As she turned to Glimdrell, she saw what she was looking for. A marker spell. It would tell any wizard that he had tampered with something important... if they saw it.

"Glimdrell, what do you suppose that is?" Elise said softly and pointed to a scuffmark beside the bed. As Glimdrell turned his head, Elise waved a hand over his back and reached through the spirit realm to disentangle the marker.

"Nothing. A boot mark I suppose." Glimdrell said with a shrug.

"Oh, I suppose so." Elise said and favored him with a mysterious smile. There was no need to worry them any more than they already were, and no alarm had sounded. Just a marker spell, thank the Valar.

She wished she could get her staff, but if need be she would acquire a new one, even if it meant stealing one from their captor.

{That work for ya? ;)}

[Arat-Falathion]

"Elise?" Hruad said surprisingly. "I though you were in the basement with the others!"

"I could not sit in that dark rathole while you were up here doing all the dirty work!" Elise responded. "Perhaps my magic might be to some assistance..."

Glimdrell nodded. "Surely I felt some magic in the chest over there." He pointed to the chest under the window.

"I felt it too." Elise said with a frown and hurried over to the chest...

[Lief Erikson]

"Your highness, if you'll follow me?" Dagankor asked the king, who was still seated on the same chair.

Vahatres got up, nodding. "Fine, but what is it now?"

"I need to show you something in my quarters."

"Oh," Vahatres said, following him.

They left Vahatres' room and in a few seconds were directly outside Dagankor's. Vahatres raised an eyebrow slightly at the twenty Shadowhand soldiers outside the door, but he didn't mention it.

"I've got all entrances sealed," Dagankor said with a smile. "You will soon see why."

[Arat-Falathion]

"What was that sound?" Fimbren whispered suddenly. The others was already looking straight at the door, they had noticed it too. The sound of metalboost against stonefloor was all too familiar.

"Oh heavens!" Hruad uttered, suddenly having his heart in the throat. "My heart does not have any good of this."

"Hide!" Glimdrell whispered as loud as he would dare. "Quickly!"

[Lief Erikson]

But Hruad was thinking along different lines. "The window," he hissed. He rushed over to it, and cursed. "Soldiers down there; we're trapped."

[Arat-Falathion]

"Alas! For our unluck at this moment!" Fimbren breathed, looking franticly around for some hidingplace. Glimdrell had already dissapeared.

"All of us can't find good enough hidingspots in this room. We should rather stay together and fight, to the bitter end if we must!" Elise said confidently.

"Fight? ME?" Hruad laughed ironicaly. "No! There has to be another way!"

[Lief Erikson]

"We don't even have any weapons," he muttered to himself as he moved to one of Dagankor's back rooms. "Everyone in here. Fimbren? Glimdrell, you out there?"

There was no response, but Fimbren and Elise had followed Hruad in. Hruad slammed the door and bolted it, and then knocked over a wardrobe into the way of the door with a loud boom.

"What are they doing to my quarters?" Dagankor muttered irritably under his breath from outside. "Six men must remain outside each door," he said more loudly to his troops. "The rest of you, get inside, search the place and kill anyone you find."

"Yes sir," the leader said with a nod. One of them ran around the hall to alert the other squad, and Dagankor's moved in.

Imarwyn leapt lightly out from around the corridor as the soldier ran past, and stuck out a long leg to trip him. He fell on his face, turned to curse at her, but she had already jumped on his back and he felt the pressure of her knife blade against the back of his neck.

"I wouldn't move," she informed the Shadowhand troop, "and I wouldn't call for help if I were you."

"You'd never get away with killing me, you'd be hanged."

"How clever you are to work that out," Imarwyn noted, but she had used the time of their short discussion to pick the guard's helmet up from the floor.

Clunk! The guard was senseless.

[Lief Erikson]

"Stand aside," a voice said from behind, and the guards turned around in surprise to look.

"Stand aside now," Dolais repeated, stepping closer to them. "I was a regional representative, and am a servant of the Shadowhand."

"Prove it," one of the guards said.

"Dagankor's orders are that you remove from this place," he continued. "The intruders are being dealt with by other means; you may go."

Two of them drew their swords, facing Dolais, and most of the others put their hands on their hilts.

"You threaten me, a servant of the Shadowhand?" Dolais asked, his lips curving mockingly. He kept walking toward them, finally stopping a few feet away. "You are needed by Dagankor to find Captain Athalt Cranain and assist him in his orders. The king is unwell; everyone is receiving orders from Dagankor, now."

"They are, are they?" one of the soldiers said with a small smirk. One of the others elbowed him.

Dolais smiled and nodded, but his smile was cold. "Yes, they are. The king may well be dead shortly, and you would do well to follow the orders of the greatest power in Enedwaith at the present time."

"How do we know you're a representative of that power?"

"I have had enough with your impertinance," Dolais said, and he whipped a blade from its sheath. It blazed with a brilliant light and gleamed red.

"Wha . . .?" one of the guards bumped against the wall, staring in horror. Dolais had beheaded the guard who had spoken, and his eyes were ice.

"Does anyone else dare refuse the orders of the power that gave me this blade and trained me in my power?"

The soldiers ran.

Imarwyn stepped out from the other side of the hall. "It's a good thing I met you," she said quietly. "I had no idea you were such a good actor."

"Let's just hope we're not too late," Dolais said grimly, wiping off Fimbren's sword and sheathing it.

[Earniel]

Tareod's mind still raced to find a way to get back to the king. A vague sound reached his ears: the sound of many heavy shod feet. Soldiers. And still so close to the king's quarters.

Without ceremony, Tareod pulled himself loose from the strong grip of the servant and ran back to the king quarters, leaving the servant dumbfounded what to do.

But king's chambers were empty, no servants and no Vahatres to be seen. Tareod cursed softly. Where could they have been taken the king? They couldn't be very far yet.

On impulse he ran to Dagankor's quarters and soon caught sight of the king but also of several Shadowhand soldiers. Tareod's hand automatically gripped the hilt of his sword but the soldiers didn't seem interested in Vahatres. Instead most of them entered Dagankor's room, much to Tareod's relief.

No one had noticed his arrival yet. Dagankor was giving out orders and Vahatres stood a bit back watching his advisor. Tareod quickly moved over to Vahatres, his hand still on his sword. If the Shadowhand soldiers would turn on the king now, Tareod was definately outnumbered. But, he thought grimly, outnumbered didn't mean defeated just yet.

[elvishfaerie3088]

"looks like someone could use a hand?" My voice was quiet and unassuring but there i was...did they hear me? did they know i was there?

[Lief Erikson]

Dolais turned in surprise as the elven woman showed up behind them. He had raised the blade half heartedly, but he lowered it again in relief. Thank goodness he wouldn't have to really fight someone- he was hopeless with the sword.

"We could use your help, yes," Dolais said, taking the sword from the dead soldier's grip and passing the hilt to the elf. "The Shadowhand has several of our friends trapped inside a room, and they're trying to get in to kill them. We've cleared one entrance in, but we're a little unsure as to what to do next. Can you help?"

[Lief Erikson]

"Ambassador," Vahatres said in surprise. He glanced down at Tareod's right hand. "Don't worry, we've got this situation well under control."

Dagankor turned to see who he was talking to, and he smiled. "Have you been shown your quarters? We've encountered some traitors, ambassador, and are about to try and pull them out. The king and I were about to enter the room just now. It might be better if you were to stay outside, though. This could be dangerous."

"I will stay with the king and see what's going on," Tareod answered.

Dagankor forced another smile, and drew his sword. Tareod drew his blade, but Dagankor stepped into striking range without doing anything with his weapon.

"Then come with me," he said invitingly, and took the king's arm with his left hand, guiding him toward the door.

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell had hid in the shadows of the door, in between the leaves of a decorative bush in the corner. The guards had started to roam into the room already, when he suddenly heard a familliar voice reply to the words: "I will stay with the king and see what's going on."

The voice made his blood pump through his veins, a damned taste filled his throat.

"Then come with me," the voice replied. Glimdrell knew he had to react now if he wanted to get out of this alive.

He sprang out.

Glimdrell appeared before Dagankor and Vahatres, they had no chance to tell which direction he had come from, and if other guards had seen him coming out from his hidingplace, they wouldn't have time to tell, or voice enough. Shouts and curses was arousing by the door to the inner chamber, all the guards were engaging that spot.

"Master Dagankor, king Vahatres!" Glimdrell said feigning a rather bad darkish voice. "The traitors hide in the inner chamber, the door is blocked!" Glimdrell tried to do as few gestures of facemovements as possible, all in effort not to reveal who he truly was.

Indeed it wasn't hard to tell an elf from a human, yet there were exeptions among men, with handsome features, just like Glimdrell. And the outfit of a shadowhand soldier did indeed help sufficiently.

"You don't say..." Dagankor said sarcasticly at the obvious. He pushed the elf aside and strided forth. "Stand aside soldier!"

Glimdrell gained the momentum of Dagankors push and managed to get out the door while it all looked like Dagankor pushed him. If Dagankor had seen Glimdrells smile at that moment he knew he would have been revealed...

[elvishfaerie3088]

I pushed the sword hilt away and spoke while smirking a little, "That's okay, I have my own...Don't bother asking how i got for i shall not tell!" I felt like laughing but kept this to myself and awaited orders.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren was sweating. "Wait! Grab a chest and when they enter we will ram them!"

[Lief Erikson]

"Suicide," Hruad muttered. "That would be the death of us."

There was another window in the chamber, but looking out through it, he saw there were guards beneath that one as well.

"All we can do is hold them off for as long as possible."

[Finrod Felagund]

"Hold them off with what!?!?" Fimbren demanded.

[Earniel]

Imarwyn looked at the door of Dagankor's quarters that Dolais had cleared. "Maybe we can break open the lock." she mused.

"We'll have to get in anyway if we wish to help the others. Does one of you two have any lock picking experience? Otherwise I think I can force it open with my knife." She said, looking calculating at the lock.


-----

Tareod gritted his teeth and followed the king and his advisor into the room. He supressed the urge to attack Dagankor. He knew that could a very unwise move before Vahatres was freed from the spell. The only thing he could do was stay very close to Vahatres.

[Lief Erikson]

The door splintered open with a crash, and Hruad, who had just been pushing another cabinet into the way, was thrown back onto the floor. The soldiers instantly began scrambling over the pile of rubble, while the companions seized fragments of wood and furniture. They beat at the guards, but Fimbren silkily evaded one of their swords. He caught the guard around the throat with one hand and broke the soldier's right wrist with the other. An instant later, he had the man's sword and had kicked the body out of the way. Just in time to parry a couple blows from different directions and slit the neck of the next guard storming in.

Elise snatched the sword from the floor, but looked very hesitant to get into battle, using it as a weapon. Hruad contented himself with a broken piece of wood, but could see that Fimbren didn't need him. He'd more likely get himself hacked up without purpose, and Fimbren would have to protect him. So Hruad hung back, waiting and hoping he wouldn't have to use the furniture piece as a weapon.





"Hmm," Dolais said, and tried the door with his hand. It swung open. "Maybe that won't be necessary."

His eyes widened as he saw the scene within, and he realized in an instant that the elf fighting in the doorway was this sword's master. It was almost pulling itself out of his hand in eagerness to get back to him.
bring me to my master, bring me to my master, he needs me, he needs me
Dolais threw the sword at Fimbren, and the weapon turned in midair, and Fimbren caught it by the handle. He blazed with glory, and smiled.

The soldiers hesitated.

"Kill him!" Dagankor cried.

Fimbren advanced into the room, and four soldiers lunged at him from all sides. Two fell dead in two seconds, and the other two only got away because they had limbs severed, and were no longer a threat. Dagankor drew his Morgul blade and backed toward the door. This was far more than he'd counted on.

One of his soldiers appeared at the door, a dagger drawn.

"Give me that," Dagankor said, extending a hand for the knife. The soldier smiled, and slashed his hand.

Dagankor screamed and staggered backward, as the soldier withdrew his helmet. He had pointed ears- one of the elves who'd been among the company.

From beyond the corridors, he heard the sound of a scuffle breaking out. Athalt Cranain appeared, surrounded by five soldiers.

The sound of clashing swords was irrupting from other points of the palace.

"Traitor! Treachery!" Dagankor screamed.

Dolais and Imarwyn burst into the room a moment later, each picking up swords from the floor.

Fimbren was finishing off the last of the guards, and people were storming the room from all sides. Dagankor pressed himself back into a corner, not daring to reach for his sword. "Spare me! I serve the king . . . treachery, spare me."

"The treachery is yours," Elise said. "Thank-you," she said to Athalt as he passed her her staff.

[Arat-Falathion]

OOC: OOOOH! Exciting, exciting exciiiiting :D

BIC: Glimdrell stopped just as he had exited the room. The sound of crashing door had him turning in fear for his friends. Glimdrell drew the dagger and walked back in.

"Give me that," A commanding voice said. A caped man extended a hand for the knife. Glimdrell smiled, recognizing the man for whom he was, and slashed his hand.

Dagankor screamed and staggered backward, as Glimdrell withdrew his helmet, revealing his elven heritage.

"So sagacious you find yourself, Dagankor. Yet you can not tell your friends from foe, and man from elf."

The sound of another fight sounded throughout the castle. And Dagankor could only scream and shout in his despair.

Glimdrell blinked over at Fimbren and gave him a nod of his owned respect. "Perhaps you will show me a trick or two of your skills when time and oportunity allows?"

[Sicirus]

ooc: You should have told me you were making a part two. I guess my pm are not working properly lately. Please can someone fill me in as best they can as what is happening. I cannot read the wholoe thing. Unless you want me off then that is fine too.

[Tessar]

Elise smiled, almost fondly, at her staff and gripped it with both hands as she shuffled towards Dagankor. She was hunched over again and her brown robes were torn in places, showing the green dress underneath. A few wisps of hair were loose from her bun and still stuck out even after Elise lifted the hood of her robe to hide her face.

The sorcerer cringed as Elise came to a halt in front of him, shifting her staff to one hand and drawing the other back. Her slap landed against his face with a resounding smack and knocked him on his side where he huddled.

“I think you and I shall have a very long talk soon.” Elise said in a voice so soft only the sorcerer could hear. “I have many questions, you have a few answers. I WILL have them.”

[Earniel]

Imarwyn smiled as she caught sight of Athalt. "Good timing, " she said. "I don't think you should have bothered coming a little later."

She looked at Dagankor who still huddled before Elise. "What will become of him?" she asked.

[Finrod Felagund]

OOC: Wow, dude! That was sweet, thanks for making me so cool. I got my sword back! Yay!

[Mathron]

The Shadow faded in and out of the wall, lurking in the corners of the room, an unseen patch of shadow buried amidst the darkness already there.

It smiled, watching events playing out before him. The heroes had given a good account of themselves - better than he had expected. Yet he doubted things were over yet - a wizard always has a trick or two up his sleeve...

Yet what if they did triumph? The Shadow frowned to itself. They could pose a threat to its continued existence. And if that was the case... and if he could not find a way to turn him to his own ends...

They would have to be removed.

The Shadow smiled grimly, and returned to watching the events in the room.

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell nodded his approaval to Athalt as he entered with his soldiers. He nodded back quickly. "Dagankor!" Athalt said rising his voice. "Long did I have a bad feeling about your presence!"

Athalt advanced at Dagankor, but Elise stopped him. "He is mine now!" She grinned evily.

[Lief Erikson]

Dagankor laid down his sword, reluctantly, on the floor. The black blade did not reflect the sunlight pouring in from the window, but rather seemed to suck it in. He still had more weapons than that at his disposal, though. He turned his eyes on Vahatres.

"Traitors!" Vahatres roared. "Traitors, all of you!"

"You don't understand," Imarwyn said, soothingly, but he ignored her. He was reaching for his sword.

Athalt seized his arm. "Please listen to us! Dagankor is the real traitor here, a part of-"

"No!"

Vahatres threw him off and snatched his sword from its scabbard. Elise's staff blazed with light, and she struck. The sword exploded in a hundred tiny fragments of red hot metal, and Vahatres withdrew his hand with a cry.

"You are not yourself," she said, and struck him in the chest with her staff.

He was driven against the wall, the breath knocked out of him.

Blazing white light shown in his eyes, in his mouth, blasting through him with terrible fury.

Elise glared at Dagankor, furiously. "I have you, I'll break this link . . ."

Only Dagankor wasn't there. She turned her head instantly toward the door, just in time to see him streak through it.

One of Athalt's soldiers screamed, from outside, in pain.

"He has his sword," Athalt said with a curse, drawing his own weapon and leaping through the open door in pursuit.

Vahatres seized Elise by the throat with both hands, bearing her to the ground.

[Arat-Falathion]

As Vahatres sat upon Elise, choking the woman with all his strength, Glimdrell advanced. He would have managed to put Vahatres to sleep if it wasn't for Vahatres' boot that connected with his cheek. Glimdrell fell backward to the floor in pain.

[Lief Erikson]

Vahatres snatched a sword from the ground, just as Tareod jumped on him from behind. They both went down, Vahatres fighting madly.

Elise reached her hands to her throat, choking and trying to regain her breath.

Hruad helped Tareod with Vahatres, but it was hard. Fimbren joined them and with the toe of his boot, knocked the sword out of Vahatres' hand.

Vahatres fought savagely, but the men managed to pin him. Elise staggered to her feet.

[Earniel]

As soon as Imarwyn saw Dagankor slip away she went after him. She was already at the door when the soldier screamed. Behind her she heard Athalt curse and give chase too.

She leapt over the fallen soldier. There was little she could do for him safe try to catch Dagankor. Running, she quickly unsheated one of her knives. Dagankor had less headstart than he would have wanted but he was far from defeated just yet.

As Imarwyn turned a corner Dagankor's black blade jumped up, aimed at her face. Acting on pure instinct, she brought up her knive. The weapons met only inches before her eyes. The sorceror's blade nicked the skin of her hand but was turned aside.

The force of the unexpected blow knocked her back and she fell on the stone slabs. Dagankor raised his sword to strike again just when he caught sight of Athalt coming. Not wanting the face two opponents the sorceror cursed and fled.

"Get him!" Imarwyn yelled at Athalt as he ran past her. She quickly got on her feet and followed. Growling with frustration she whipped out her other blade. 'He's going to pay for that,' she thought. 'I'll gladly see him handed over to Elise.'

[Lief Erikson]

There was still some fighting going on about the citadel. Small groups of Shadowhand men were fighting with Athalt's soldiers. There were few soldiers aside from Shadowhand men still in the citadel, and they seemed uncertain as to which side to join.

Dagankor fled out from under the archway of the citadel's gate, across a wide paved square before the doors. Athalt was close behind him, and Dagankor's eyes narrowed as he glanced back at his pursuer. Athalt was gaining on him rapidly. His blade was not magical like Dagankor's, and was nothing in comparison with it. Dagankor had magical powers, but the soldier was trained and skilled. At least the elven warrior hadn't pursued him. Humans were easier to deal with.

Dagankor stumbled over the edge of his robes. He was still dressed in rich, black and dark green garments with gold lining. They were hardly right for flight.

"Get me a horse!" he cried out to one of his men, who was temporarily without an opponent. The man nodded and ran toward the stables. Two of Athalt's men intercepted him though, and a moment later he fell to the ground, dying.

Dagankor turned to Athalt, who was slowing down a little. The captain was wary. He knew that Dagankor was dangerous and didn't want to be caught by surprise.

Dagankor raised his blade, summoning his magic through it. "You cannot fight me! I have controlled Enedwaith. My power rules this kingdom. Get back, if you have any desire to live."

His panting rather spoiled the effect, however, and Athalt didn't retreat. "Your power is broken," he said, raising his sword.

"Perhaps the Istari could have broken it," Dagankor said, "but she didn't."

Athalt swung his blade, and it clanged hollowly off of Dagankor's as he raised his weapon to parry. Shivers went up Athalt's sword, and a couple small cracks appeared in the metal.

Dagankor's spell was ready. He struck with it, and clasped his mental hands upon Athalt's mind. His eyes pierced through the captain, as he wrestled with him in the spirit realm. Athalt of course could not see what was happening, and fought blindly.

Dagankor's magic held him hard, and then he squeezed it inward, pressing and crushing.

Athalt fell backward several feet, screaming madly. Dagankor didn't hesitate long enough to kill him. There was no point. He had many enemies, and escape was what mattered.

He fled again, running for the stables. An enemy attacked him, jumping into his path, but Dagankor slashed the man's sword in half, and his bled nicked the soldier's shoulder as well. The soldier cried out, reaching down to the wound. The injury was blackened and smoldering as dark magic worked its way inward.

Dagankor used the spell he'd used on Athalt on a couple other soldiers barring his path, and they resisted less successfully. He swung his sword at another soldier, cleaving through a sword and arm.

A blade slashed outward from Dagankor's right, and he gasped as the steel dug between his ribs. He hacked downward, shattering the weapon, and stumbled backward again. The blade was half stuck in him, and seizing it with his bare hand, Dagankor threw it out.

He called to his horse with his mind, and it burst from its stall, galloping toward him.

Dagankor swung himself up and kicked its flanks with his booted legs. His left hand was clutched to his side, and blood dribbled freely out from between his fingers. None opposed him, and sparks flickered from the ground at his horse's footfalls as it galloped for the gate. The doors exploded inward before his horse's front hooves, and a couple of Athalt's men fell to the side. Dagankor managed to sheath his sword.

He was thundering through the city now, his steed leaping over carts but trampling people at will. Dagankor moaned slightly at the pain from his side.

The addition of Athalt and Fimbren had foiled Dagankor's plans for a peaceful conquering of the kingdom. Yet peace wasn't necessary to victory. They had Vahatres and would soon free his mind. But a war was begun now, between them and the Shadowhand. The Shadowhand had several castles already in their power, and parts of Enedwaith were under their direct control. Their orc armies weren't very big yet, as it was only a few weeks ago that Vahatres had given his authorization for them to start work, but they did exist. And soldiers were mustering to their banner. No, this was far, far from over . . .

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren ran up to Athalt.
"What happened?"

Athalt replied "Dagankor escaped!"

Fimbren dropped his head, "I think we are now at war."

Athalt nodded.

Fimbren frowned, "I will go in a few days to Aragorn and Eomer. They will help us."

[Lief Erikson]

Athalt shook his head. He was rubbing his ribs painfully with his hand, and his mind felt obscured, as his eyes would be if a blanket were thrown over his head. He felt pain coming from several parts of his body at once.

"No," he said, fighting through the fog and shaking his head again. "No. There is nothing they could do to help us. They would come, but they'd come too late. Aragorn would, at least. Eomer lives much closer to Enedwaith. Perhaps there is some hope that you could get his assistance. Tell Tareod, and get his assistance. His word would be trusted above that of a newcomer elf- you might need him."

He struggled to his feet, and squinted ahead. His eyes seemed to be having trouble functioning, now. His mind was working a little better, though.

He stumbled a couple steps and scooped up his sword, which lay naked on the cobblestones. He sheathed it, and peered up at the citadel above him.

"Let us rejoin the others. If they have freed Vahatres' mind yet, we may have a council of war."

[Finrod Felagund]

"Yes" said Fimbren, "Tareod would be great help...but I am no newcomer, I have met Eomer many times and am close friends with Aragorn as well. Perhaps...well, lets find the others first."

[Lief Erikson]

"Yes. We need to see how Elise is faring," he said. He glanced back at his men, for a moment. Large numbers of the Shadowhand soldiers were surrendering to them, now.

"This battle is won, but there is still much left to do. And much also depends upon the freeing of Vahatres' mind. If, once freed, he accepts us as allies and friends, then there is a hope. But with my soldiers alone we cannot confront the Shadowhand; we need his help. His and that of other nobles of this kingdom."

[Earniel]

Imarwyn sighed. "We have recaptured the citadel and we still have Vahatres. But I fear that Dagankor's escape will cost us dearly yet."

The three of them returned to Dagankor's quarters. In the meantime their friends there had been succesful in restraining the king. Athalt quickly informed the rest of Dagankor's escape.

[Arat-Falathion]

"So war is upon us..." Glimdrell said with a sigh. He knew how he would have to dart in and out of shadows, in and out of sight, in order to stay alive on a battle field. A feat that even his magical surcoat couldn't promise succsess.

[Tessar]

Rubbing her throat and using her staff as a support, Elise staggered to a balcony and gasped for air as she watched the sorcerer flee far below and away from her. There was nothing she could do about him now, at least not from this distance. Some times she regretted ever having come to Arda, and the promises she had made. But there was much good she could do, and so much work to finish. After Sauron had been defeated, Elise had suddenly found herself burdened with many little tasks, finding the Hytorax being one of them. The Hytorax was quickly spiraling out of control though, and had become more than a little matter certainly.

Leaning out on the railing slightly Elise frowned as she remembered how the ‘scholar’ had so cleverly snatched the stone out from under her nose. Finders keepers though, and she could not have simply taken the stone from him after he first took it in the tomb. A dry chuckle escaped Elise’s lips as she remembered how she had used what little magic she could to shield the man from the stone’s evil effects. What a fool she had been.

Something that bothered Elise greatly was the sword the sorcerer had been wielding. It was… difficult… to obtain one of those blades, especially now that the Dark Lord had been destroyed. Where in Eru’s name had he gotten one?

Letting her fingers rub gently over the intricate carvings on her staff, Elise’s eyes scanned the surrounding city and smoothed her face. It would be of little use to walk back in like a thundercloud and scare her allies away.

She could not hide what she was any longer, and while her powers could still not be fully shown, there were few whom she had not performed some magic in front of. Hundreds of years with out letting a single person know what she was, and now it was all thrown away over this.

Casting the tatters of her brown robe aside, Elise fingered the green stone around her neck and looked up at the sky.

“I pray that all will come about aright, but I fear in my heart…” Elise said softly, weary of the mortal world. A great sadness and a longing to return to her true form welled up within Elise, and not for the first time. Pressing it down was never easy, but Elise was strong, and she would not be broken.

“There is much to do, Elise. Gather yourself together and make sure it is done!”, and with those firm words, Elise turned and strode back inside. There were so many things to do, but if she never got them started then she would never get them finished.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren and the others found her quickly. "Elise," he said, "You need to rest, your burden is great, come, sleep."

[Mathron]

The King's Citadel, Néred, Enedwaith

"Sleep?" Elise shook her head sadly. "That is a luxury for me in these times, one that we cannot afford right now. Too many tasks still lie before us." She softened the words with a kind smile, before noticing a messenger standing beside the door.

The others turned their gazes on the page as well, and the young boy flushed beneath all the attention. "Um... that is, you wanted to be told as soon as his Majesty was awake again. And, um, he is. Awake, I mean."

Elise nodded. "Then take me to him."

Some of the others followed after her, in case Vahatres was still filled with rage, but most of them decided to take Fimbren's advice - and seek out some rest. Athalt had secured them all room's before heading out with his men in search of Dagankor.

Elise arrived in Vahatres' chamber, accompanied by Fimbren and Glimdrell. The king was lying in bed - surrounded by several soldiers that Athalt had assigned to watch him. The men were obviously torn in their duties, but had seen the king's madness, and would follow Athalt's orders. Few others in the castle yet knew what was going on - and it would all depend upon what happened in this room tonight.

The king himself no longer seemed maddened, but had a confused look about him, as though he had been cast adrift. Elise smiled inside - with Dagankor gone, the spell he had cast was weakening. She should be able to, with luck, break it entirely.

Fimbren tensed, and she glimpsed Glimdrell's had sliding to his weapon, but Vahatres seemed unaware of their entry. She motioned the others to remain by the door, and approached the king slowly, the guards parting before her.


----------------


The open road, Enedwaith

Even as Dagankor rode from Néred at full speed, another rider in black rode towards it like a bird in flight, the wind whistling and howling around the rider and the rider's horse. Covered in black, a cloak flapped in the wind as the traveller made for Néred, wondering what was occuring in the heart of Enedwaith.


---------------


Fortress of the Shadowhand, Enedwaith

"We are glad you have come quickly, Aasinav."

"Your diligence in the past has been noted."

"We expect to see equally acceptable results for this mission as well."

The council sat before Aasinav, each member nodding his head at the sage as he stood before them. Darkness covered the room, and Aasinav could make out little of the features of the Shadowhand's Ruling Council. He knew who they were of course - everyone did. But tradition from long ago ordained they remained concealed during the council sessions.

He bowed to them. "My research has gone faster than expected, and I can devote my time thoroughly to whatever mission there is. What will my task be?"

His words were true enough - he had gotten far enough in his own research that he wasn't irritated about being distracted, as he often was.

One of the council members, a young woman, spoke again, her words soft and lilting. "It seems the situation in Néred has grown beyond Dagankor's control. The city is now in the hands of a band that you are familiar with."

Aasinav almost smiled. He'd practically expected this.

"In any case, they've forced Dagankor out, and may have freed the king. And we simply can't have that happen. We need you to keep an eye on them - discover what they plan, and make sure we can prevent it. Is this agreeable?"

Aasinav nodded. "Of course. I shall inform you as soon as I learn more."

He turned and strode from the chamber. As expected, Dagankor had underestimated the heroes. But Aasinav believed in one thing, and one thing only - knowledge. He already knew most of their weaknesses. His shadow would already be aware of everything going on, and could make sure nothing took him by surprise.

Victory was practically assured.

[Mathron]

Two weeks later...

Lond Daer, Néred

Dagankor looked about the abandoned city. Not much was left of what had once been the greatest city in Enedwaith - but it did make an excellent place for him to rally soldiers to his cause. And they had come, eagerly, when he had sent out messages telling them of the events in Néred.

Of how the traitors from before had found new leadership, and usurped the rule of the city. Of how they had made us of the spirit power of the Hytorax to bewitch Vahatres and enslave the powerful of the city.

The military leaders of Enedwaith had rallied to the words of the former advisor of the king. Especially as many of them knew that if Vahatres was indeed bewitched - and should be found slain - the country would need a new king.

"There you are, Dagankor!" The booming voice of Grifwold, one of the strongest general's in the force, echoed from behind him. Dagankor turned calmly, concealing a frown. Grifwold would not be easy to manipulate - the man was actually loyal, even if he had bought into Dagankor's lies. Something more would have to be done to bring the man into check.

But then, Dagankor was an expert at enchanting the minds of the powerful.

"Ah, General Grifwold, a pleasant surprise to see you! I had just been about to see you out for a discussion. I've decided to place my soldiers under your command after all - as the highest ranking general here, military command should be under you, should it not?"

The general looked taken aback, and then a broad smile grew on his face, matched only by the one hidden inside of Dagankor.

The retaking of Néred would be easier than he had thought.


------------


The King's Citadel, Néred, Enedwaith

Vahatres crossed his arms. The messenger kneeling before the throne shivered beneath his king's gaze, but managed to finish stammering out the news he had brought.

The king sighed. "I do not blame you for the news you carry, though it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. You are dismissed."

The messenger bowed quickly and then fled the throne room.

Vahatres sighed again. "Dagankor rallying soldiers - my soldiers! - to his banners. Spreading lies throughout the kingdom. I have tried to quell them where I could, but... it took too long to break the spell on me, sadly. Dagankor had already spun too large a web."

"All is not yet lost, your Majesty," Athalt replied, gesturing the others to follow him. Adrian Baggins, Glimdrell, Glistenfae, Gil-Thalion, Elise, Aralle, Fimbren, Imarwyn and Asaar followed behind him. The heroes, after breaking the enchantment on Vahatres, had been invited to stay at the castle - until they had figured out how to stop the Shadowhand. Yet things looked darker and darker with every day.

Elise nods. "We have been deciphering the scrolls Dagankor kept in his room - and learning more every day. We haven't uncovered everything, but we are starting to suspect that the Hytorax was only one of a number of magical treasures they had acquired - and are using to enhance their power."

The king nodded. The spell over him broken, he was a strong and powerful man, but there was so much left to do. "We shall have to investigate that. I hope some of you will be willing to take on such a mission - Athalt must remain in charge of our defenses, as Dagankor rallies more troops to his side. Hruad and Dolais have gone to their regions to seek military support for us."

He stands, and glances off to the side, where a corridor to the castle's guest rooms leads. A shadowy figure can be seen approaching them.

Vahatres looks back to the heroes. "We don't need your answers just yet. We still need to build our own forces, and learn all we can from Dagankor's scrolls. But when the time comes, you will be needed. If you wish to back out, we will understand."

Athalt glanced down the side corridor. Vahatres had conferred with him over most of their upcoming plans, but he knew nothing of whatever figure was approaching. He looked to the king, and raised an eyebrow, not wanting to question him in front of the others.

Vahatres smiled. "We do have one secret weapon in our pocket, though. An emissary from Rivendell, when they heard that the Shadowhand was involved in our country. One who is quite the expert at infiltration - and has experience with the Shadowhand's ilk. One who can ensure that you are able to deal with the Shadowhand once and for all."

The figure stepped into the light. Cloaked all in black, a wide-brimmed hat covered his eyes, and he flipped a pack of cards from one hand to the other.

Looking up, he grinned at the party, and bowed to them as he tucked the cards away.

"Allow me to introduce," said Vahatres, "Malagar D'Orthand."

[Lief Erikson]

"A pleasure to meet you, Malagar," Athalt said, extending a hand.

The man clasped it at once.

"I am sorry," the captain continued, "but I haven't made your acquaintance, yet."

"Not a surprise," said Mal, "I'm fairly new here."

"However, he is not new to our enemies," Vahatres said, turning his eyes toward the company. They looked at him expectantly, and he continued. "Mal, along with a few companions, were responsible for the demise of the Shadowhand's leader, Vardor, about two years ago.

"Vardor nearly was successful for bringing back Morgoth to the world, though that tale is not commonly known. His genius in leadership and success at following his leader's orders were great, but his followers cannot likely be far better off, separated from him. They have skilled and brilliant men on their side. Like Aasinav, and . . . ah, Dagankor . . ." Vahatres' face twisted in distaste as he said the last name.

"We are lucky," he finished, "to have Mal here."






Hruad pulled his horse's reins, slowing the animal to a stop as they reached a guard post. "We need to speak to Thetiran, the region governor," he said. "I am Hruad, council representative, and this is Dolais, another representative. Through messengers, we asked that a meeting of governors be called here."

"Yes, yes," the guard said at once, pulling open the gate to the pleasant green lawn, and dry path of the grounds. "Please, enter."

"Thank-you," Hruad said with a smile. He touched his horse's flanks with his silver spurs, and rode through the open gate.

The house before him and Dolais was large. A couple hobbit servants were just visible at the doorway. One of them was sneaking small treats into his mouth, taken from a bag he'd likely pilfered from the kitchens.

Hruad grinned broadly, and pointed him out to Dolais. The hobbits stopped and turned immediately as the two horsemen approached.

They dismounted, and the hobbits immediately took their horses' reins and led them away on a side path.

Hruad stepped in, onto the threshold of the house.

A tall man dressed in gold and green stepped forward and motioned that they follow him. They did, and he led them over the carpeted floor of a hallway, and to a door. He pushed it open, and announced them.

"Hruad and Dolais, from Néred, sir."

He stepped aside, and they passed him. There was one man, his hair graying, seated behind a table. One man.

"Sir," Dolais said, a slight note of worry in his voice. "Where are all the other governors?"

"They saw no reason to attend," Thetiran answered.

"But . . ." Hruad said haltingly, stunned. "But, but sir, why? This is important news, from Néred."

"From Vahatres himself, yes, they know. But you see, the issue is already being discussed, and there's nothing the governors can do anymore. The entire situation is out of our hands."

"What do you mean?" Dolais asked, sharply. "Your military units-"

"Our military units are out of our control," Thetiran said. "They have been sent on, to Lond Daer. A military council is being held there, and information is being brought there as to the facts of the case in Néred."

"Ah, I see," Dolais said. "Then we're simply at the wrong place."

"Yes," Thetiran said. "You could go on to Lond Daer, and you'd be much more likely of getting what you want. But then again, you might not want to."

"What do you mean?" Dolais asked. "And why has the council been moved there?"

"The council was summoned by General Grifwold and by Dagankor," Thetiran said. "Dagankor has spread news that the revolt has taken place and seized command of the mind of Vahatres."

"WHAT!" Hruad cried, furious. "The wretched s-"

"What evidence does he have to back up his claims?" Dolais asked.

"Go there yourself," Thetiran said, "and find out. I don't know the details, but we've sent our most trusted military leaders to the council to make our decisions for us."

"When does the council start?"

"Five days from now," Thetiran said.

"Then we have some time," Hruad said, exchanging glances with Dolais, who nodded instantly. "We must reach it as soon as possible, and represent our side, telling the truth."

"Nonsense," Thetiran said. "Dagankor is holding this meeting- it's too dangerous for either of you."

But Hruad stared at him sharply, his face full of determination. "We must do what we can do. We have to go there, and now."

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell's eyes widened and his ears rouse as he heard the name mentioned. He had heard this name before, Malagar. It was a name that filled Glimdrell with peacefullness and hope. The rumors of this man and his company had spread like a wind in his region after the great defeat of Vardor.

Glimdrell smiled and listened as Athalt and Vahatres spoke. He had nothing to say to this man, yet so much to admire. A true hero of his own right...

[Lief Erikson]

"I am positioning your troops at the back of the northwest field," Grifwold informed Dagankor. He picked up a glass of wine from the table he was seated at, and took a gulp from it.

"I have no difficulty with that," Dagankor said. "One thing I would appreciate is possibly the reinforcing of scouting positions on our borders. I have fears that the enemy might try to infiltrate our council with their magic."

"I see," Grifwold said thoughtfully. "Well, I'll keep that under consideration, but as yet I really see no need for concern about that. They'll hardly risk an open attack- it would strengthen your case against them."

"I have magic, but I don't know if it is strong enough to take them, combined," Dagankor said. "Let's see." He ticked one off on each finger. "We have Brilindil the wizard to deal with, and Elise, and Fimbren, even though he's not a wizard." Dagankor's face twisted angrily. "Fimbren, even though he is not a wizard, is a very dangerous enemy. An elf of great power- he was the one that defeated my entrapment attack on the enemy in Néred.

"Then finally, they have the power of the Hytorax itself. And this is only the revolting party. They probably have other magic of which we know nothing. We even know, from Captain Athalt Cranain's reports, while he was still loyal to us, that they have a griffin on our side. That shows that they have gained back the old supporters of the Istari order, the order that was ruled by Saruman, the traitor."

"Your own followers are hardly more wholesome," Grifwold said with a soft smile. "Orcs, trolls, wildmen. Your symbol also doesn't seem the greatest, and the fact that you once served Vardor . . ."

"We broke off from serving him, and since then we've been a freelance group, studying magic. We have done other things, of course, but magic has been our primary focus.

"Enedwaith is the first country we really stepped out of our natural reserve to contact. We have contacted you as your friends, and we have never sought to be anything else.

"Orcs and trolls, well, we have always had the ability to command them. Perhaps they are unsavory companions, but it is always better to have them on your side then to have them against you, is it not?"

"What sort of a position was the Shadowhand in before it joined us?" Grifwold asked.

"A difficult one," Dagankor said immediately. "With Vardor's demise, many of our troops broke away from us, and we were surrounded by rival forces. Through large efforts, we managed to draw many of them back under our banner. But that was nearly our final hour."

Grifwold poured himself another goblet of wine, and set the jar back down on the dark wood table with a heavy clunk. He glanced about the folds of the scarlet tent's walls, at the furniture, drawers, and the suit of armor neatly collected in a corner.

"Things are being drawn to a difficult point, Dagankor," Grifwold said. "I think we will very likely need Shadowhand assistance, after this is over. There is going to be huge turmoil over the country's fracturing. Everything that was once strong is weakened. This revolt will likely split the country into a bloody civil war. Do you know if there is any way to prevent that?"

"The more united the upcoming council remains on this issue, the smaller the war will be," Dagankor said.

"Then it is for us to make the decisions. What is your case, Dagankor? I hope it is a good one. We need something strong if we are to convince and draw to ourselves the military leaders."

"I can present a strong case, provided that there is not magical interferance from outside," Dagankor said. "I do expect that enemies will try and infiltrate us. If they are stopped, the council will become united."

"They do need to receive good representation though, so the council can make a good judgement . . ."

"No they don't," Dagankor insisted, mentally digging his magical fingers deeper into Grifwold's brain. He fought the man for an instant, fought him hard.

"Very well, you're right, we don't need the fracturing . . ."

"Good, thank-you," Dagankor said, easing his grip. Grifwold was shaking slightly, though of course he didn't know why, and couldn't know it. Dagankor gently soothed the general's mind with peaceful thoughts, and the man relaxed. "You will not regret your decision, sir."

[Mathron]

As more of Dagankor's scrolls were deciphered, it became more and more obvious that the Shadowhand were seeking to harness magical power on an unprecedented scale - and that they would have to be stopped before they succeeded.

Malagar met with the various companions one by one, seeking each of them out in turn, and feeling them out to take their measure.

To each one, he spoke of their coming trials, and of the mission that they would face - confronting the Shadowhand directly, and stopping whatever plot they were putting into effect. Wiht each one, he made sure they understood the danger inherent in the mission. And to each one he placed the question, without blame - "Do you still wish to go?"

He spoke somewhat more with a few of them. With those of especial skill of specialization - such as Glimdrell - he took time to discern how they would best aid in their coming mission.

Finally, he met with Elise last of all. Every time he had seen here, he had felt a strange sensation, and his suspicions had risen more and more. Yet he left those suspicions unspoken, and only asked of what she was capable - rather than asking who - or what - she was.

[Arat-Falathion]

Malagar had already spoken quite some time with a few of the others when he came before Glimdrell. They stood there for a while, considering eachother for some time, both realizing the age and experience in their bodies and mind.

"And what may your profession be?" Malagar said, breaking the silence. "I can handle the bow quite well." Glimdrell said. "But my true skills lie in the dagger." He produced his slender dagger, it was skillfully made, crafted in times long forgotten.

Malagar nodded. "You plan to battle man to man with such a short weapon?" the man said, quite uncertain that it would be a good idea. "I never needed a sword before, my strength is not sufficient."

Malagar smiled and nodded. "We may end up on an open field though, a place that won't give any shadows to lure in, only open battle. You would have five on your back before you could sneak up on the man before you!"

Glimdrell sighed. "Then perhaps I must say my farewell, perhaps my destiny is written to another road..."

"Have you ever tried to wield a lighter sword? Like a sabre? Those are light and well balanced, one-edged and slightly curved. You may want to consider such a weapon."

Glimdrell waited a moment to answer this. What if he agreed? How would he prove in war with a weapon he was totaly unfamiliar with? How could he prevail with such lack of skill on a battlefield, where enemies and friends would run around him from every direction?

Without even realizing his movement, Glimdrell nodded. Then he stammered slightly, unsure if he had made the right decision.

"I would need someone to show me a few moves and tactiacal strategies though." Glimdrell added. "Or else I would be dead before the first man stood before me!"

[Tessar]

(bah sorry! I checked and I some how missed the new posts the first time!)

“I have my wits, and more speed than one might think.” Elise said coolly at Malagar’s question.

There were few now who did not know of her powers, and the man before her should know exactly what she was capable of. Assuming her recognized her. She recognized him, oh yes, she knew who he was now.

Elise no longer bothered to wear her drab robes, choosing instead to simply wear the fine green dress she had owned for such a long time. And her necklace of course, with the bright green gem sparkling on its silver chain. Her staff looked changed too, the wood a richer brown and the engravings much more clear.

Would he recognize her? Elise was certain he would, even if it took him some time. She was certainly not about to help him along. Whether his intelligence was still as keen as ever was a question that would soon be answered.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren walked towards the throne room. His meeting with Malagar had been short. Everyone now knew what he had done in the dungeons, with just a sword. He had told them of his skill with a bow and even some axe training, as well as his healing skills. But his magic he kept to himself. Now he sought the king. Vahatres was sitting over a map when Fimbren entered. "My lord" Fimbren bowed, "Has a messenger ben sent to Eomer in Rohan, or to Aragorn even. The horses of the Rohirrim are swift and strong as is the small cavalry of Gondor. The could make it here in time."

[Mathron]

Malagar grinned at Glimdrell's words.

"You know how to wield a weapon - learning the art of another will come much more naturally. Already you possess speed and instinct - the first requirements."

Mal chuckled, and rubbed his jaw. "And my own strong suits, as
well."

He nodded, having reached a decision. From within his cloak he drew out a slender blade, and Glimdrell blinked, for surely he had seen no sign of a weapon beneath the folds of the outfit before. But there it was, resting in Mal's hand - a saber, finely made, just of the type spoken of.

"Take this," he said, handing it to the elf. "You will find that while the strategies you are used to will not avail on the open field... they can be adapted. They can be manipulated."

As Glimdrell took the blade, Mal clapped him on one arm. "While we await our mission, I will make sure to meet with you. You'll master the weapon - I'm sure of it!"

[Mathron]

Malagar almost circled around Elise, the two of them exchanging cool glances. He felt, more than saw the power in her, and the awareness of it was more a result of his own inborn power than anything he was actually attempting to do. His own power he left untouched, and as such, he could neither probe nor examine who she might be.

But he had his suspicions, whether she would tell him truth or not.

"Speed of body and speed of mind," Mal said softly, "Will both be important in what we do. That, plus our experience, is something the two of us undoubtedly share. Rest assured that I shall be counting on you in the days ahead - both to decipher the scrolls, and then to be a leader in our assault on the Shadowhand."

With that, he bowed to her softly, and turned as though to leave - though he paid the courtesy of slowing long enough for her to respond to his parting comment.

[Mathron]

Vahatres looked up as Fimbren approached. His eyes were weary from his lack of sleep - these last few weeks had been trying.

As Fimbren voiced his concerns, Vahatres gave a despairing sigh. "Aye," he responded, his voice still strong and booming in the chamber. "As soon as Malagar came from Rivendell, and confirmed for himself his suspicions concerning the Shadowhand, we sent out messengers. To warn those who might aid us of the situation, foremost, and for aid as well."

He paused, and his gaze fastened securely upon Fimbren. "But it is not to be so easy. The messengers will take time to get there, and will be delayed, likely, by our foes. But the true danger is in the aid itself."

He stood, gesturing Fimbren closer. "Look ye to the map. See the regions marked in black? Not many, fortunately, but those already have begun to side with the sweet words of the Shadowhands. Look though, at the many marked in gray. That is most of the country - undecided, listening for the thread of war, and trying to see right from wrong. No easy task, mind you."

He paused, his gaze lingering ever so briefly on the white regions, few and far between, disappointment visible in his eyes - and then he shook his head. "If the Rohirrim came with their horses, or the Gondor forces with their strength, it would only confirm, for many, the lies spun by Dagankor. This is a battle that our country must win for itself - if we ally with foreign forces against our own people, they will abandon us."

As Fimbren looked back at him, upset, the king suddenly winked. "It is not as hopeless as it seems, though. Should some smaller forces come - fast and swift, as they can surely be - they can harry the Shadowhand themselves, while staying out of the forefront of the war. We must be careful, but we will not turn away our friend's aid in this time of our need. When the time comes... I am sure we will not fight alone."

[Mathron]

Between the shadows of the castle and the earth, between the hours of the night, darkness lurked in the King's Citadel.

Aasinav's shadow reported back every few days... and every time it came and went, it was stronger, more wily, more... alive.

It was a dangerous thing, to use a Shadow for so long, so often - and to leave it so far from one's side. But Aasinav needed it for this task - the information the shadow carried was too valuable to abandon.

He heard of the new hero that led them, and of the plans they made. So they thought they understood the Shadowhand's plot? Ha!

He collected the knowledge his shadow gleaned. The weaknesses of their army. The weaknesses of their allies. The weaknesses of the king himself. And the weakness of each and every one of their team, for use when the time came.

Back in the castle of the Shadowhand, Aasinav nodded to himself in satisfaction.

The heroes were already doomed.

[Arat-Falathion]

"...I will make sure to meet with you. You'll master the weapon - I'm sure of it!"

Glimdrell sighed with a pleased relief at Malagars last words. He tested the balance of the weapon, it felt strangely familiar to him, somehow right.

"I have no words to thank for such a gift, given to me without open reason." He knew that the war was brewing, and that that was the main reason of the gift, but it was not everyday before a war one recieved such a fine weapon from the hands of a stranger.

Malagar only chuckled. "Take it for the gift it is. I should guess you will find a time to repay the gift in the storm coming."

Glimdrell nodded with a glee and tested the weapon in a slow sidelong arch, then returned the motion. Malagar smiled at the obvious joy in the elfs eyes, like a child...

Glimdrell would practise this weapon from morning to night for the comming days, Malagar was sure. He would find his way to treat the sword effectively, the sparcle in the elven eyes bore more than enough proof to that statement.

[Earniel]

As Glimdrell tested his new weapon Imarwyn watched on with a slight touch of jealousy. The elf would soon be deadly with the saber, she knew.

Imarwyn herself would never learn to handle a new weapon that fast. And her daggers might be useful in skirmishes but they were not entirely suited for open warfare, as her brother was quick to point out.

Malagar has spoken shortly before with Tareod and her. To his question whether they still wished to go on despite the dangers ahead both rohirrim had said yes. And Imarwyn still intended on doing so. She would just have to find another way of being of help in this war than combat.

[Arat-Falathion]

Back in his room Glimdrell sat on his bed with the sabre before him. He touched the blade jently, feeling the surge of power going through him, and he couldn't deny the excitement he felt.

He stood up and piered out the window beside his bed. The grassland outside was tempting. He had to go out there on the plane and practise. His excitement made him run out the door.

[Finrod Felagund]

OOC: Bact 2 the top!

[Arat-Falathion]

OOC: AHHHHH! I HATE THAT "ESC" COMMAND ON MAC COMPUTERS!!! CURSE THEM TO HELL AND BEYOND!!!!! I WAS NEARLY FINISHED WITH A LOOOOOOOONG POST! AND THIS "ESC" KEY AUTOMATICALLY DELETES IT ALL!!!!!! AHHHHH!!!!! CURSE THE MAC, CURSE THE MAC!!!!!!!!!!


Ahhhh... well, I'll just have to start over again I'd guess :(


BIC:

Glimdrell shifted back and forth, twisting in circling movements and dipping low, dodging effectively. He grew more and more comfortable with his sabre, it became more and more a simple extension of his arm. He cut it through the air in rappid movements, graceful movements with deadly speed. His agility and years of experience helped him efficiently in his practise, and indeed he had improved dramatically over the last few days.

"So the rumours was true..." a woman's voice interrupted his practise suddenly. "I heard rumours of this elf legend which had come into our city, a legend trying to learn the art of a longer blade. I must admit my curiosity. How quickly can an elf, of such age, adapt to new ways of fighting?"

Glimdrell turned around to look upon a beautiful woman approach from the road. He noticed the slender blade she had in a scabbard on her left hip, and the graceful movement of her hips. Glimdrell couldn't help but smile at this beautiful being. She replied with a laugh, as if she had read his mind.

"I am Iriana, daughter of Arendil, the swordsmaster and proud soldier of Athalt Cranain's army..." She brushed delicately through her shoulderlength, brown and straight, hair and shifted her balance point slightly to one hip. "And I am a hearer of the song..."

"The song?"

The question had barely left Glimdrell's elven lips when suddenly her sword was arching towards him. Only his years of experience saved him then, for purely by unconsious reaction he managed to get his sabre up in line with the incoming sword. Glimdrell froze, dazed at the tremendous speed of that move. She had been standing ten feet away, and had come upon him even before he could consiously react! A simple twist with the blade sent Glimdrell's sabre out wide, leaving his neck defenceless.

"First lesson! Never stop a defencive motion, turn it into a offencive counterattack by continuing the movement naturally in effective combinations. You do not want to give your opponent the upper hand by letting him come at you again and again, -you do not want to back down on your heels! Surely you know this, elf!"

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell nodded, both at her lesson and her disaproval. Indeed he knew that offence was the best defence. She stepped back a step and started to spin her sword into flashing combinations, truly baring her exceptional prowess with the slender blade. Glimdrell went into a defencive stance, moving his sabre before him in both hands, looking upon the woman with profound respect and thus forcing forth his consentration thus more.

Just as suddenly as last time, she came at him with a blurr of movements, leaving Glimdrell looking at a wall of flashing steel. This time he was better prepared though. He worked as best he could to see her feints and deflect her attacks.

Suddenly she dipped low, feigning a cut to his knee, but twisted suddenly impossibly fast in a complete circle, placing her sword high above Glimdrell's shoulder in a descending arch. Glimdrell's sabre was already helplessly low, but again his uncounsious reaction saved him. He was on his back, his sabre defencly out above him before he even registrered his own movements. Iriana's slender sword rang against the blocking sabre, and as the motion played itself out, Glimdrell caught her swordhand with his free, and twisted.

He watched with delight as Iriana's eyes widening with surpise as she suddenly found herself under the elf, her sword harmlessly wide and locked in the elf's stronger grasp. Glimdrell placed his sword, with a triumphantly grin on his face, on her revealed neck. But to his surprise he found his delight outmatched by the mocking laughter of the seemingly defenseless woman.

"You are already dead elf!" She laughed, mocking him and causing his elven cheecks to go red. Only then did he notice the dagger in her free hand, poised point blank toward his bare neck.

"Never believe to win against someone bigger then you without the assistance of surprise! And never think yourself a winner before your enemy lie slain at your feet!"

Glimdrell got back to his feet, chuckeling all the while, barely believeing what had just transpired. He helped Iriana to her feet, her glee still spread wide on her face. Moments ago she had shown a look of total surprise as Glimdrell had countered her attack, a display of perfect imitation. He knew she had faked that notion to surprise him tenfold, and probably make him less aware, of her swift daggerattack.

"How can you perform so fast?" Glimdrell had to ask, indeed she had shown the elf swordplay beyond any he had ever seen.

"It is all in the song..." Iriana replied crypticly, the glee not leaving her face for a second. "It is all in the song!"

"Song?" Glimdrell had to ask, not understanding a word of what she just had said.

Laughter was the only answer he got though. "We'll meet again, fair elf. Be sure of that." She laughted heartedly again, walking away from the elf on the grass, leaving him in contemplation of many questions, and especially one... the song?

[Finrod Felagund]

OOC: darn Iriana, I was about to come and test Glimdrell's skill...oh well , i guess i can anyways.


ic: Fimbren came up to Glimdrell and asked "Who was she?"
"I wish I knew..." replied Glimdrell.
Fimbren smiled, "I have come to see if the rumours are true, if you have truly become a master of the sabre, and if you can stand up to an elven sword master...bearing a master sword at that" His eyes twinkled like those of a grandfather teasing his grandson, which, in many ways, was what he was doing. Fimbren pulled out Ringil, Glimdrell, like the others, was in awe of the sword. Without realizing, he whispered aloud "The very sword of Fingolfin..."
Fimbren smiled again, "I do not know why the sent it to me with Mithrandir, perhaps it has tasks yet to do...it has certainly done many already...This is the sword that wounded Morgoth himself...and I have carried it through fights against Balrogs in the depths of Moria, and against creatures as evil in Minas Morgul..." Without a beat, the sword was swinging towards Glimdrell, and his reflexes barely saved him as his sabre came up to deflect the blow.
"Good" smiled Fimbren, "Be ready at anytime, for anything". He swung again, feinting left, then right, suddenly he spun away. As Glimdrell dropped his guard Fimbren dove and slashed low. Glimdrell jumped as the shining blade sliced the ground where his feet had been, Fimbren stood at that moment and knocked himself into Glimdrell as he came to the ground, and Glimdrell flew back, sabre flying from his hand. Fimbren put the point of his sword against the younger elf's throat. "I win" he laughed.

Fimbren sheathed Ringil and held out his hand to help Glimdrell up, Glimdrell gripped the hand, and then wrapped his legs around Fimbren's and jerked back.
Fimbren tumbled to the ground next to Glimdrell.
He stood quickly and his eyes flashed, Glimdrell was worried for a moment, but Fimbren's mouth turned up to a smile.

"Very good fight young one, one of the best I've had in years." He held out his hand again and Glimdrell pulled himself up and smiled at the ancient elf lord. He gripped his hand for a moment and Fimbren said "I will feel all the safer knowing that you are on the battlefield with that sabre." He smiled and walked back towards the castle.

[Arat-Falathion]

"Young I may be in the eyes of such an ancient..." Glimdrell whispered, staring at yet another dueler leaving him. He had to chuckle at the notion, how excited everyone was about all this with the sabre. He picked up the blade from the grass and examined it carefully, letting his fingers move along the edge of its blade. Indeed some cuts had cracked into the fine sharpness, battering it slightly.

"So I have learned a lot of things this day!" Glimdrell finally declared, looking up from his sabre. He nodded to himself, he still had a long way to go, still he would be a victim on the battlefield if not luck alone saved him. But the days was ending he knew, he could feel in his heart that the day of just was soon at hand.

He crossed the grass and got onto the road again, quickly shifting his mind back to the question that had haunted him since the duel with Iriana, the Song, what did it mean?! He shook his head in disbelief, she was refering to the song as if it guided her blade, as if the song itself had put her body into such impossible speed of movement. But it still sounded absurd, that would be magic, and no human Glimdrell had heard of could perform any of such, it wasn't humane.

He had to confront Elise he finally declared, had to ask if the istar knew about this song which Iriana was speaking of...

[Lief Erikson]

"Iriana?"

She was seated on the wall surrounding Néred, looking down over the city. She turned her head back toward the speaker, away from the lights gleaming in the darkness. It was night in Enedwaith.

The man who had spoken emerged from the shadows, and walked up to her. He leaned on the parapet as well, and looked over the city wall.

"Captain?" Iriana said, sliding off of the parapet quickly and standing to face him.

Athalt glanced at the city, for a moment, as she had been doing. "Be at ease. You wanted to come with me to Dunland, but I would not permit it. I needed you to continue the training you have been doing so helpfully among our Spearhead Legion. Now, however, the times are different."

He was quiet for a moment.

"Is it true, then?" Iriana asked. "Will there be a civil war?"

"Hruad and Dolais went out to prevent that, if they can. More important still, though, is the mission Malagar is leading now. I have gained the king's approval to send you there, among them."

"You needed his approval?" Iriana asked, in surprise.

"The king takes very deep personal interest in the success of this mission. I, here, am going to continue to work to martial our forces and prepare for the worst. That is what we in Néred will be doing. Meanwhile, you will join Malagar and the others. Do you know what he looks like?"

"I can find him. I will tomorrow."

"Good luck," Athalt said. He turned then, and left her.





Aralle smiled at Gil. "Yes, I saw he was learning the sword today too. It'll do him good. A knife in the dark isn't nearly so clean as the blade with a challenge. It is necessary, though."

"It's scary, the idea that he, for so many years, was a knife in the back of people," Gil answered.

"It can be," Aralle said with a small, knowing smile. "But . . ."

Something seemed to strike her between the eyes. She was searching for something, searching hard, looking through the forest . . .

"What is it?" Gil asked, concerned.

Something more struck her. Sleep, she needed sleep.

"Aralle?"

"What?" Aralle asked Gil. "No, I'm just tired. Good night."

She was stumbling up the stairs. Yes, she knew she'd been rude, but she also knew if she didn't get to bed, she'd fall asleep on the floor.

She saw her bed before her. She'd closed the door behind her. She was searching for something, searching hard. Trees. There were trees about her, and she saw a road.

Aralle's body hit the floor limply.

"Dolais, draw your sword."

"What is it? Do you think it's trouble?"

"Before us. It's too quiet, and those trees close between the road. We need to go back, go around by another route."

"Hruad . . . that could take us days. The fork to the other route to their encampment is just as likely watched as this."

"Draw your sword, Dolais, draw it! Look!"

Their horses shied, and Dolais whipped his blade from its scabbard. Figures were running up from down the road, but more were coming from behind.

"This way, into the forest!"

An arrow came out of nowhere, several arrows. Hruad was lying on the earth, screaming, with one hand clutching at his shoulder. His hand was red with blood.

"Go on, Dolais, get out of here!"

There was the clash of blades. Dolais had cut the head off of the nearest orc, and the creature's body sagged to the ground. Three more were upon him though, two with swords and one armed with a heavy spear.

"Just get out of here, Dolais!" Hruad gasped. "This is no time for heroics, you fool!"




Then Aralle was awake.

[Lief Erikson]

"I am hosting the company in the gardens tomorrow morning," Vahatres said, calmly. "You will of course be attending. Bring Iriana, also. I think Malagar should meet her."

"Of course, sire," Athalt said, bowing. "She will be pleased at last to be involved in a real mission, where her skills will be brought to bear."

"She trains soldiers of the Spearhead Legion, does she not?" Vahatres asked.

"Yes."

"That will be good news for the assassin from Lothlorien," Vahatres said with a smile. "We will need as much skill and courage among the members of this force as possible. We can trust Malagar to bring the intelligence and cunning that is needed."

"The company is all in good order, yes. The state of our military forces is not, though. Do you mind talking with me about-"

"Tomorrow," Vahatres said with a smile. "Tomorrow. It's late. We have some time, still."





"Malagar?"

"Yes? Aralle, I think your name was."

"You are the leader of our company," she said, stepping inside. "So I felt I should tell you first, before the others. I must leave, as soon as possible. Tonight, if possible."

"Tonight?" he asked, staring. He pulled back his chair and stood up, his fingertips moving away from the paper he'd been writing on.

"Yes. I cannot be a part of the quest."

"Why not? What's wrong?"

"I have been told by the Valar, shown by the Valar, as sometimes happens with my kind, what I need to do next. It was through the leading of the Valar that I came to the company in their time of need. It is at the command of the Valar that I leave you now."

"What have you been told?"

Aralle hesitated. "I . . . you need to know, and so does the king. I saw Hruad and Dolais, attacked. Their mission has failed, and they are in the hands of the enemy."

Mal looked at her for just a second longer before nodding, accepting her story. "You are a griffin."

She did not answer.

"Yes, I should have seen the signs more quickly. Go, then. You are the agent of the Valar, not of me."

[Mathron]

Malagar moved through the castle halls without a sound, without even the hint of a whisper. He didn't even do it consciously, but old habits were hard to break.

Hruad and Dolais captured - dark news indeed, and one that would likely be the fuel to start their quest. He had spent the days since his arrival watching the members of what would be his company. They were ready. They were eager.

And soon, they would be at war.


---


In the darkness of the castle walls, Aasinav's Shadow lurked. Every day he let it loose to linger longer and longer - and every day it grew stronger, grew in power of its own. Still bound to him, but for how much longer?

It laughed silently to itself, eager to discover its power, its freedom. And perhaps because of its contemplation, it was not as aware as it should have been as Malagar came striding down the corridor.

The Shadow was invisible to mortal eyes, and beneath the notice of immortal ones, just another dark spirit intangible and incorporeal. It hovered in the space between worlds, and currently resided in the wall of the castle, a foot of stone between it and any ability to be seen.

But as Malagar passed by it, he froze, and turned to stare directly at it. Startled, the shadow fled across the land, back to its master, at full speed.


---


Spies, Malagar thought, shaking his head. They send shadows to watch over us. Fools! Malagar knew all too well the dangers of shadow magic - it was he who had invented it, and he who had corrupted it, long ago.

But if that is what they use, it is a weakness. Still, the others need not know about this. Let the enemy think us unaware. And when the time is right...

Malagar resumed his walk down the corridor. This incident only further convinced him that the time to move out was nigh. First, to tell the king and Elise of Aralle... and her vision.


---

Aasinav turned from his work, looking towards the King's Citadel. Something had startled his shadow, and it was returning to him. He frowned, unable to tell what had frightened it.

"Heh," he laughed to himself, "Perhaps they are finally ready to begin their assault." He grinned, smiling without any true emotion behind it.

"I'll be waiting for them."

[Lief Erikson]

Dawn broke the night sky, and servants worked quickly to set up a long table on a lawn in the citadel grounds. The company gathered, upon the king's command, joining him for breakfast at a single long table. Only a few were at the table that were not members of the company.

When the members of the company had finished eating, Vahatres rose to his feet. He wore his crown, and deep purple robes. His vest was black, and he wore a blue sash diagnolly from chest to waist. Attached to the end of the sash was a sword and scabbard.

"Friends," he said. "You have answered the threat to Enedwaith once, and with incredible bravery, have helped to save my life and my country. The darkness which shut out all light now has been forced backward a couple steps, for it no longer has me in its grip. But its hold over my country remains, and grows ever stronger.

"You have answered the call. Some of you here already know what your next mission is to be.

"As many of you know, we have learned from Dagankor's papers that the Hytorax is a magical item that can be linked with others to seize the power of magic on an unprecedented scale. It is a piece of a vast power that is being formed. It is not yet completed. If it was, the war would be lost for Enedwaith already. Not only for Enedwaith, but probably much of the rest of Middle Earth would fall under threat from the shadow that would emerge.

"This is our task. You have saved me, but I ask you now to go further. This next task will be of deeper peril than the last one, and will inevitably lead you into darker places.

"There is a castle within which this magical . . . force, is being created. It is the center of the Shadowhand's power. This is where I need you to go, so that you can either destroy this power or wrest it from its makers.

"Malagar will be leading the company of the willing. This is the most vital need for the kingdom. This is the reason I have summoned you all here, because I know that among you are those who are ready to go on this mission. To marshal and to send it forth. How many of you will go?"

[Lief Erikson]

Aralle sat silent, waiting for the company members to begin rising. As many as would go. She still remembered the king's words to her last night, that she needed someone to go with her. That it was best that she not go alone, but should have another to bring aid.

"Elise is needed on the quest, Aralle," he had said, when she had been summoned to join him, Elise and Malagar. "This is important, and I do believe that you have received orders from the Valar. Indeed, you must go. There can be no doubts about that. But I have no one I am immediately prepared to part with. You could be killed, alone. Remember, you are going into the place Dagankor is dwelling at. He is there, and he is probably expecting a rescue attempt. If we are to penetrate, it will have to be someone experienced. I shall bring it up later, to the company tomorrow morning, after breakfast."

Vahatres was speaking about something else, something probably more important. It was not Aralle's place to help with that, though. The Valar had other plans, and them she must follow.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren stood. "I will go!"

He was striking in a deep green cloak hemmed with gold, his sword at his side and a golden circlet upon his head.

"By the Valar...I will help save this land."

[Arat-Falathion]

"King and country, honor and glory! I shall defend this that in which I've always believed so strongly!" Iriana said proudly, drawing everybodys attention and leaving a questioning stare at most of the faces; -who was this new woman? To the eye she looked like nothing more than a helpless maiden of a mans houshold.

Glimdrell still sat firm though, determined to see who else would attain on this quest.

******

Finally all that would attain had arisen, only Glimdrell sat back, but still he lingered, had a feeling that he was somehow needed elsewhere. For a reason he did not understand his eyes locked with Aralle...

[Earniel]

Tareod had risen to be part of this new quest, and so had Imarwyn albeit against his request. But he knew his sister well enough as not to try and stop her. Much to his surprise another woman had joined the group and she had done so with such zeal.

But while the unknown woman had joined, the Elf Glimdrell had surprised Tareod by remaining seated. He noticed Glimdrell was looking at Aralle who also hadn't risen.

Tareod could not begin to guess at their reasons but he suspected there was more at work than the plan to enter the Shadowhand's stronghold.

[Lief Erikson]

Mal and Elise had also risen to their feet.

"I thank you," Vahatres said. "Now, please be seated, again."

They did, leaving the king standing, once again.

"Aralle, you may have noticed, did not rise with the rest of you. Last night, she saw a vision. She was told by the Valar that Hruad and Dolais have been captured by the enemy. She is going to go, and is going to attempt to rescue them.

"They originally left us on my orders, to meet with the governors of the regions of Enedwaith. Their power has been tied though, as they have given their military leaders authority to choose whether or not to join the Shadowhand. The Shadowhand is holding a council of Enedwaith. Hruad and Dolais, I have recently been informed, were attempting to penetrate that council when they were captured.

"If this council goes as Dagankor desires it to, he will succeed in snatching most of the military forces of Enedwaith into his hand, and having their assistance. Combined with the might of the Shadowhand, his armies would then be nigh invincible.

"So they must be rescued. If it is possible for us to get a voice of truth in the council, before it closes, then that would be greatly useful.

"Those of you that have decided to join this quest to the castle may want to consider this other quest.

"Tareod or Imarwyn, I specifically speak to both of you, when I say this."

They looked at him, startled.

Vahatres' lips curved into a slight smile. "A voice, a representative from Rohan could be very useful in that council. You are outsiders to this land, without motive for betrayal. Therefore your evidence will be given more credence than would that of Hruad, or that of people who were previously publicly denounced as traitors. If the voice of someone from Rohan could be heard in the council, as you describe what you saw, more might believe than would have otherwise.

"This does not require both of you, but just one. This mission requires more stealth and skill than it does combat ability, for if it comes to a fight and the enemy can bring its force to bear on the rescue operation, it will be doomed."

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren rose and bowed. "My king...while on the subject of Rohan..."

The king frowned.

Fimbren quickly said, "I know we have discussed this, but...could I not send an eagle to Eomer and Aragorn. As we said, perhaps Cavalry could arrive, even from Gondor, in time. Remember, the Rohirrim arrived late at the Pellennor fields and yet still turned the tide."

Vahatres nooded, "You have contact with the eagles?"

Fimbren "A little"

Vahatres smiled, "Speed is our friend."

Fimbren "There's only one eagle nearby, he is called Thorondor, after the eagle king of the first age...and a prophecy has told him that when there is war in Enedwaith, he will face his final foe, so he must return after delivering our message, and fight if need be."

The council was suprised at this, but Vahatres was pleased. "An eagle" he mused.

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell was about to rise from his seat when Fimbren announced his eagel-friend. He sat back patiently, letting the ancient elf finish his news. This filled Glimdrell with renewed hope as well, and again reminded him of the serious quest they were all about to face.

"An eagel..." Vahatres mused. Glimdrell looked to Aralle again. She was about to go onto a mission to rescue Hruad and Dolais, but alone? He started rising again.

"King Vahatres. May I ask if Aralle is to walk into her perill alone? If this is indeed the shadowhand, which all suspicions directly leads to, then even she would walk against hard odds... I have this feeling, this tingle in my heart. I feel as though I should acompany her. I believe that is why I didn't stand up before."

[Earniel]

During Fimbren's and Glimdrell's intermission, Tareod and Imarwyn had a little time to discuss the King's words between themselves. They spoke softly and fast in their native tongue.

"We'll have to split up in this case." said Tareod.

"True. But this may just be the opportunity I was looking for to do what I can to help."

"It will be dangerous to get in the council." he pointed out again.

"Both roads hold danger equally. But we are not alone in this."

"We're decided then?"

His sister nodded "We are."

They turned their attention again on the meeting. As soon as there was a pauze in the conversation, Imarwyn stepped forward and said "I will speak at the council and do anything in my power to stop the Shadowhand taking control over Enedwaith's militairy."

[Lief Erikson]

"My thanks, Imarwyn and Glimdrell," Vahatres said. "Then the two of you will accompany Aralle on this quest. Good luck."

He looked again at Fimbren. "And you will have to contact this eagle quickly, if you are to do so before you set out with your comrades. This afternoon, the companies should set forth. In secret, for only within secrecy can either mission have a hope of success."

[Finrod Felagund]

OOC: Okay guys, as we set off, after I contact Thorondor, I'm going to dissapear for a while. have a plan, and don't be shocked when Fimbren suddenly shows up again. But for now, continue the meeting.

[Lief Erikson]

"I thank-you all, once again," Vahatres said, as the meeting ended. "I will leave the time of your departure up to Mal," he said, glancing at the man sitting beside him. "The second group may leave as soon as its participants are ready. May the blessings of the free folk of this kingdom go with you."

He took his seat, and conversation slowly began to open again, among the company members.

"We should leave this afternoon," Mal was saying. "The sooner the better, as far as I'm concerned. That should give us a little time to find suitable horses and provisions."

"I can help you there," Athalt offered.

"We need to leave before this afternoon," Aralle was saying to Imarwyn though, and to Glimdrell. The griffin's face was pale and tense. "We need to move soon, and fast. Ah . . . does anyone know where horses could be procured?"

A gust of wind blew suddenly among the company members, and they looked up in surprise as an eagle suddenly swooped down among them.

"My thanks, Thorondor," Fimbren said with a smile. "You respond quickly, to my call. I was wondering if you would help us, by sending this message to King Eomer of Rohan . . ."

[Finrod Felagund]

Thorondor's great golden eyes regarded the elf. "Has war come at last old friend" it said, it's voice was deep and sonorous.
Fimbren nodded slowly.
"As I thought" said the eagle.
Fimbren, "We need the Rohirrim and Gondorians, can you go to them?"
Thorondor gave the closest thing that he could to a smile "Of course! But then I will return...you know..."
Fimbren nodded again. "I know. Thank you friend."
Thorondor took off and disappeared over the horizon quickly.

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell stood up from his chair and followed the rest of the fellowship out from the halls when Iriana came up to him.

"So you chose to go with the griffin..." her voice seemed to hold a hidden grin of disapointment. "Yes, a voice in my head, or a feeling came to me... it is the right thing to do, it is my path."

Iriana nodded and patted the elf friendly on the shoulder. "I wish you good luck then and welcome the song into your mind... it may come when you'd last expect!"

Iriana was about to walk away, but Glimdrell staggered her. "What is this song you speech of? It has lost me in contemplation for too long not to know!"

"It is a state of the mind that can not be taught nor explained, you need to experience it yourself. If you hear it, then let it come to you... do not fight it back!"

Glimdrell could only shrug. Why would a song come to his mind now? He had lived for many ages, why would it suddenly apear now?

"Ofcurse," Iriana added. "It does not welcome many... but you may be one of the chosen, I have a strange tingle inside of me as I behold your presence, a sign I can not take for granted!"

Glimdrell nodded, feelings one couldn't explain was often wisest to listen to. "Good luck to you as well, fair maiden." The elf added as they shared a last eye contact and parted.

[Finrod Felagund]

Could someone post a list of whose going where please? For those of us who are dumb :p

[Lief Erikson]

"Here you are," Athalt said, pulling open one of a pair of double doors. Light poured into the darkened room, and Mal followed him inside.

"Weapons, for your company. Whatever your men need, whatever you choose to use, are here."

The light fell upon long racks of swords. Most of them were very similar to each other, but there were a few of separate make. A small pile of five elf blades were in a corner. Long lines of spears covered another wall, with a battle axe between each one.

"This is one of the three weapon rooms of this tower," Athalt said. "Whatever you may need, you should find it here.

"Now, let us continue. It would be useful for you to select out the kinds and amounts of supplies you'll need to reach your destination."




Aralle motioned her two comrades to follow her. Her body was tense with a sense of urgency, and Glimdrell and Imarwyn could see it.

"Come," she said. "Glimdrell, I can see you're armed. I'm taking this bow and arrows.

"Are you any good with weapons, Imarwyn?"

[Earniel]

"I prefer these two daggers," replied Imarwyn as she drew her daggers to show to Aralle. "Though I have had sufficient training in fighting with spears as well in Rohan."

[Lief Erikson]

"The daggers should be fine," Aralle said. "At least they're inconspicuous. Well then, let's be off."

"Wait, we have to have supplies," Imarwyn said, practically.

"I got some together last night. I wasn't able to sleep, and wanted us to be able to leave as soon as possible.

"Imarwyn and Glimdrell, can you get our horses while I get the packs? I'll meet you at the citadel gate."

"We'll do that."

"Thanks," Aralle said. Then, without another backward glance, she hurried back around the corridor toward their rooms.

[Arat-Falathion]

"She seems nervous..." Glimdrell said, looking after the departing griffin. "I have never seen her like this before, I wonder the reason."

Imarwyn only nodded.

They left for the stables, a place where the rohiric woman had made "friends" last time she set out from this city.

[Mathron]

The preperations were made. The moment of departure was approaching, and as Malagar surveyed his company, all seemed in readiness.

They stood, mounted and ready to ride out, armed with weaponry and provisions. Malagar's own horse pranced beneath him, filled with energy, while he sat upon it motionless, as though carved from rock.

"Many of you are warriors, trained to fight and trained to win. All of you have gone through dangerous battles, and faced death in one form or another. All of you are aware of the danger we ride into, and go willingly."

Turning his horse, he glanced to the west, to the direction they would travel. "But it is not warriors that I will need. Oh, there will be battle to be sure, when we go to disrupt their dark magics. But no matter how strong we are, we cannot hope to stand alone against the Shadowhand's full might. What we need now... is stealth, stealth and silence."

Glancing back at his company, he smiles. "I have full confidence that you are adept in this as well. But be warned... our mission depends upon our secrecy. Only with surprise will we accomplish our goal, and once it is done, we will flee for safety. Do not worry about heroics or glory."

"Worry only about success... and survival."

[Finrod Felagund]

OOC: Who am i with?

[Earniel]

OOC: Arat-Falathion answered your question in the discussion thread (http://entmoot.tolkientrail.com/showthread.php?s=&postid=288561#post288561), Finrod. :)

IC:

The horses in the stables seemed to have caught the nervous atmosphere. Many of them were restless and Merrah, Imarwyn's own horse, not the least. The mare clearly itched to travel again.

Glimdrell and Imarwyn quickly made their horses ready for the trip. They also saddled a horse for Aralle. And soon they stood with the three horses at the citadel gate waiting for Aralle with the promissed supplies.

[Lief Erikson]

The huge griffin's wings beat powerfully as it hurtled into sight, the straps of the packs held in its beak. Its strong eyes looked piercingly from Imarwyn to Glimdrell, and it dropped their packs at her feet. With one paw, it snatched its own pack from its beak, and then melted back into human shape.

"Come on, swiftly, we have little time."

She tried to mount her horse, but it shied away from her, anxiously. Imarwyn hastened up to it, speaking coaxingly in its ear. Soon, it was willing, hesitantly, to accept its strange rider.

Glimdrell dropped the saddle and bridle of his horse, and leapt lightly onto its bare back.

"Follow me," Aralle cried.

They thundered away from the citadel, down the streets, and soon were out, flying across the plains outside Néred.

[Arat-Falathion]

"...and so this quest begins..." Glimdrell spoke silently to himself as they rode out from sight of Nered's citywalls. Once again he reminded himself of his latest lessons with the sabre, but wondered if he would ever need the knowledge to wield the sabre. Instictively he reached down and touched his dagger, consealed under his flowing surcoat. Secretly he hoped it would never come to that. If he just could stick to the shadows, his stealth and dagger should prove sufficient.

Aralle took them beyond the boarders of Nered's ruling, hastily towards their destination. But did they know where they were going? Did they know where the prisoners were held captive? Honestly Glimdrell had no idea. Uncousiously he looked at Aralle, riding at the front. It was all up to her now, they would have to trust in her innate abilities and hope it wouldn't lead them astray. Too many lives and too much evil was at stake to allow such dark possibilities.

[Arat-Falathion]

"Success and survival," Iriana echoed. She had to admit to herself that she couldn't possibly imagine the size of the enemy they were facing. Not their power nor their cunning. To be honnest, little was known about this Shadow Hand cult and little was know of their magic. But the power of magic they beheld had proved itself on many occations the last year. They had manipulated the king, stolen the Hytorax and was now tricking the whole people of Enedwaith against Nered with the magic sweetness and cunning in their words. Rumours also spoke of a new orcbreed never before seen, much stronger, much more intelligent... alot more cunning, even magical abilities, yet nothing of this was documentated to the full extent.

Liren couldn't help but shiver at the thought of batteling this fairly unknown foe, perhaps they would even need to battle their own neighbours, tricked against them with evil lies.

She looked to the west and took a deep breath and letting it out with ease through her nose. The song arouse in her mind, building up her courage. She couldn't help but produce a slight smile of eagerness on her beautiful lips. She set her gaze back one last time to the grand sight of the citadel... the army was gathered into formation, soon they would leave for battle, the battle of Nered, her home.

[Yodaman]

While Liren was thinking of the upcoming battle, a man walked up to her. He was dressed in the traditional Rohirim armor of the time, and he was holding a spear, sheild, and had a helmet on his head. He had long, blonde hair and a rough face. He had the largest smile on, and that made Liren sick. How could a man be overjoyed at a time like this? This man was demented.
"Hello, lass", said the man. "I'm Theodar. My son and I are about to march out to battle right now. He's really excited, but I'm not. I don't like battle. They make me sick. But that's my job a a rider of the Riddermark, so I must do what I must".
"If you hate battle so much", said Liren. "Why are you smiling?"
"I hate to see a lass with a frown on", said Theodar. "You're too beautiful to be frowning." That remark made Liren hold her breath. She never heard a comment so sweet before. She was about to thank him, but a loud horn rang.
"That mean I have to go", said Theodar. "Such a shame, that such a beautifull lass such as you must to battle. But my company is leaving already. BYEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"
"Bye", said Liren. She didn't know what to think of him. He was so nice and so fun, but he would probably die sooner or later. Oh well, thought Liren. She put on her armor and marched into battle, like the other thousands of free people who were about to throw their lives away for the great city of Nered.

[Mathron]

The city walls faded into the distance. Malagar sat easily atop his steed, riding low in the saddle, snacking on an apple. The others were still cautious and filled with concern, eyes looking in every direction. The sun still rode high in the sky, however, and there was little sign of any enemies about.

Even riding cautiously, in case of any spies around the countryside, they made good time. The plains between them and their destination offered good ground for riding.

Malagar pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes to block out the sun, and smiled to himself. They were being watched, of course. Nothing to be done about that. But as long as he knew that they were being watched, and who was watching them, the spies were merely a tool to be used - just another pawn in the game.

[Yodaman]

After riding for hours and hours and hours looking and looking for his son, Theodar finally found his son, Theodur, talking amonst the other soldiers.
"Theodur!!!", shouted Theodar in glee. "I've been looking for you for hours and hours! Where have you been?"
"With the other soldiers", said Theodur. "Isn't this exciting? Going out to battle? It's what I've been dreaming about! Let's go!"
"Theodur!", yelled Theodar. "I must speak to you in private."
"Sure", said Theodur. They moved their horses to a more private area and started to talk.
"How dare you treat war as if it were some sort of little game?" asked Theodar. "War is horrible! People die! People suffer! And not just a few people: thousands of people! Mabey even millions! And you think it's for entertainment?!" Theodar then started to cry, but Theodur showed no sorrow.
"Imagine how disgusted mother would be if she saw you right now." Theodar then drew his sword, knocked Theodur's sword out of his hand, and put the tip of the sword right next to Theodar's throught.
"HOW DARE YOU TALK OF MOTHER LIKE THAT!!!!!!!!!!", yelled Theodar. "SHE DIED TO PROTECT YOU! TO PROTECT ME! TO PROTECT ALL OF ROHAN! AND WHAT DO YOU DO? SPIT IN HER FACE! LEAVE NOW! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN! I DON'T CARE IF YOU DIE! JUST GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Theodur then started to choke up and sped his horse as fast as he could away from his dad. Then the marshal of their squad blew a horn, which was the signal to set up camp and rest. Theodar then parked his horse, sat by a tree, and cried himself to sleep.

[Lief Erikson]

Theodar looked up in surprise as he felt something hard and sharp poke his left arm. It was an eagle, looking at him through sharp, piercing eyes.

"My name is Thorondor," it screeched, to him.

He stumbled back away from it. "What?"

"The people of Enedwaith are in deadly danger from an attack that is being launched against them. The attack is from inside their kingdom, and has almost engulfed the entire realm in darkness. If this war is lost and the Shadowhand wins, their dark magic will be strengthened, and your country also will be attacked.

"I am passing on the word to those who might help, as I approach the king. You don't appear to be connected with any military organization, though you are a warrior. Will you travel to Néred, and help our people?"





"It will take us a few days to get there," Aralle told them. "They are imprisoned within the enemy camp- I have been told this. On the way, we shall receive instructions on how to rescue them."

She was quiet for a moment, and they rode in silence. Then she said, in a slightly lower voice, "at the very least, our mission will be a diversion that will attract the attention of the Shadowhand. That might help our other friends to get through. Even if we all die, it is their success that counts. If we are successful in speaking before the council that is gathering, that should be enough of an impact. Our comrades must have secrecy. If they lose that, then they are lost, before they have started."

[Yodaman]

"It's my duty to help", said Theodar to Thorondor. " I just want to take my son along. That's all".
"Sure", said Thorondor. "If he's of age".
"He is", said Theodar. "He's somewhere among the soldiers. I just hope he'll listen to me and come".
"Sure he will", said Thorondor. "If he loves you."
"I don't think he does", said Theodar. "I told him I wanted him dead, since he made fun of his dead mother." Thorondor then let out a frustrated breath and said "If you wanted him dead, you would've killed him already. He knows that. He still loves you no matter what."
"Okay", said Theodar. "I'll go get him". He then walked away from the eagle. He woke up a few of the soldiers to ask them where Theodur went, and they said that he was sleeping by the big tree to the right. So he walked up to the big tree to the right, and saw the most disgusting thing he ever saw. A bloody orc was holding Theodur's head.
"Hello", said the Orc.

[Finrod Felagund]

Thorondor rose into the air and was about to head on the way to Edoras when he saw the orc holding Theodar's son's head. He gave a screech, awakening most of the soldiers, as he rose into the air, to se a company of ocs. "Yrch" he screamed. It was clear most of them were Moria orcs, though there were a number with sighns he did not recognize, and many Uruk-hai leading them. This was obviously the enemy Theodar's company had been after. Thorondor screeched and plummetted down towards the orch holding Theodur's head, picking him up and shaking him like a rag doll. He lighted for a moment on the ground and dropped Theodur's head at his father's feet. "I'm sorry" said the eagle, "But there will be time for grief later. the orcish numbers are not too great, they can be defeated if we are swift." With that, Thorondor rose again and attacked the orcs, targeting many of the great uruk-hai, before winging quickly towards Edoras, giving one last screech as the Rohirric soldiers rose up to dstroy the small orcish army. But in enough time, orcs would be the least of their worries, thought the Eagle, the shadowhand was rising, and it would take more than an eored and an eagle to defat them.

[Yodaman]

"Dad!" yelled Theodar. Theodur was amazed. He just saw the Orc with Thodar's head. How is this possible. "What in the name of the Valar is my head doing on the ground?" Then there was a laugh. A great and mighty laugh. The Orc army then dissapeard, and the mass that was Theodar's and the orc's body turned into reddish goo. Then, they shifted into an all familiar form. Sauron.

[Arat-Falathion]

OOC: Did you read my second-last post in the discussion forum Yodaman? Please read it and the last post I posted there and rethink about what you wrote in your last post...

thanks

[Yodaman]

Everybody got scarred when they saw the Sauron form, except for Theodar, Theodur, and Thorondor, who all saw the Beoring turn into Sauron. Theodar drew out his sword and charged at the Beoring, but he shifted his arm into a mace and swung in at Theodar. It his his armor, so he didn't die, but he flew back, hit the tree, and became unconcious.
"SON!!!!!!!!" yelled Theodur. He ran to his son's side to comfort him, but the Beoring took a swing at him. Thorondor then slashed at the Beoring with his talons, and the Beoring flew back several feet. The Beoring then picked up some sort of staff and lashed out at Thorondor, and the staff let out a bright red beam. The beam his Thorondor and crippled the eagle. Then Liren saw this, and she saw the wounded Theodar with his father, she new she had to help. She drew out her sword at charged at the Sauron form. The Sauron form lifted up his arm to take a swing at her, but then a big blue white light hit the Beoring and he dissapread. Then Liren looked around and saw who cast the light. It was Radghast the White.

[Finrod Felagund]

OOC: How is he Radgast the White? How did he turn white?

[Mathron]

OOC: If it is all right, Yodaman, I will insert the following as the resolution to the battle of yours (since a figure like Radagast would really not fit into our current storyline, at least not easily.)

IC:

The shapeshifter leapt forward, its arms altering into blades of steel as it swung at the two warriors who stood before it. Beneath it's charge, Theodar faltered, and though he blocked one strike, it hurled him backwards, where he lay upon the ground and did not rise.

"Son!!" cried out Theodur, in rage and anger, as he flew to the side of his child, but then the enemy was upon him, and it took all his skill to hold back it's power. Finally, it smote him with both blades at once, and his own weapon dropped to the ground.

It raised up one hand to deliver the final blow when Thorondor swept out of the sky, claws raking across the creature's back. Liren charged into the fray, driving the creature back, and while it staggered, Theodur drew his son's sword from the ground, and in one swift moment pierced the shapeshifter with it!

It let loose a cry of pain, and fled from the steel. Its form blurred into a massive beast, and it fled across the land, a vile blood pouring out beneath it...

And then it was gone.

Thorondor the eagle screeched, "This bodes not well for the people of Enedwaith - already, the Shadowhand has sent its minions to delay and plague our allies, and prevent them from coming to our aid. Theodur, I charge you with rallying as many warriors as can be spared, and bringing them to stand against the Shadowhand. If the evil is not cut down at its source, it will spread forever, and all the goodly folk of the land shall fall."

And with that, the eagle spread his wings, and soared off into the sky.

[Arat-Falathion]

They rode untill dark that day, Aralle first, then Imarwyn, and Glimdrell taking up the back -ever alert to their surroundings.

"We will sleep without a fire this night." Aralle said. "We may have enemy scouts about in the land that does not yet know our exact possition. At most we can hope they can not find us in the shelter of the night."

Glimdrell nodded, agreeing. "The stars shall guide our footfall if escape shall prove nessesary. I do not believe anyplace is safe in these lands now, not even in the sanctuary of Nered's high walls."

He rested against his proned horse's back and fell into a form of meditation, which was the elven kind of sleep -his eyes open, and his breath at ease, ever alert to the threatening darkness surrounding them.

[Arat-Falathion]

Iriana stared with her glassed eyes upon the darkening horizon, a feeling of horror running through her. Gradually she felt the song starting to play in her mind, spurring her sences, itching in her fingertips.

The darkness consumed the company before Malagar finally commanded the holt, one couldn't see more than what was one's own flesh and bone.

"No fire this night!" Malagar commanded. Noone questioned his decition, all trusting in the seasoned man sitting there on his horse.

Despite the song in Iriana's mind, she managed to fall asleep. They had been riding the whole day and she soon yawned heavily, resting easily against her horse's side.

[Mathron]

Malagar felt somewhat sorry for the crew after depriving them of warmth and comfort... but no chances could afford to be taken. Even if the enemy knew of them, the enemy couldn't know that Malagar knew that they knew.

He smiled to himself somewhat grimly. The old games of intrigue came back to him now so very easily. They were as much a part of him as anything else. The same part of him that let him look out into the night and see everything clear as day - or rather, feel its presence where the darkness and shadow slid across form and flesh, rock and stone and earth and tree.

A sound in the night caught his ear - the hoot of an owl, but of a breed that did not nest anywhere near these woods. His eyes narrowed. Glancing back at the others, they were all nestled asleep, save for Fimbren, who was awake on watch, staring out restlessly into the night. Malagar nodded - they could take care of themselves.

Meanwhile, he would find some answers.

The next time Fimbren looked in his direction, Malagar was gone.

[Yodaman]

Theodur could not beleive his ears. He loathed the thought of battle, much less ordering people to their deaths. Plus his son probably just shatterd most of his bones to the impact of the shifter's strike. He didn't even have time to say no to Thorondor, which is what he probably would've done. But he was brave, and he knew he must do what do to save his lands.
"Come on, company", said Theodur. "Under the orders of Thorondor the eagle, who is higher ranking than me, has orderd us to gather up as many warrirors as we can do defeat the rouge wizard group entitled "The Shadowhand". We will first consult with King Eomer and get the remaining soldiers there. Now let's move". He then went to tend his son, who was already being tended by Linden.
"Father....", said Theodar. He couldn't move, since somehow, the shifter's strike broke every bone in his body.
"I'll carry him on my shoulder", said Linden, "now hurry up". Boy, she was a grouch. Where was the sweet little Linden he knew? But he didn't know that inside, Linden was very anxious for the day that she could get close to him. Very close.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren was troubled for a moment when he realized that Malagar was gone, but his mind quickly turned to othr things. Thorondor was not the only one with a prophecy involving the Shadowhand, he had not realized that it would come to total war, and now, Thorondor would fight his last battle, and Fimbren...Fimbren's life would change forever.

[Yodaman]

Thorondor was flying high above the Misty Mountains right after his last encounter with Theodur. He never liked Theodur. He thought he should've been a whimpy diplomat due to his hatred towards war. But, he had courage and that's all that mattered. He was flying high when he heard a voice he hadn't heard in a long time.
"Help!" said the voice. It was the voice of Gandalf. All the eagles were aquainted with Gandalf, so he knew him pretty well. But Gandalf went to the Grey Havens with the other Ringbearers. How could he possibly be here? But he decided to go down and investigate. He flew down, and, out of nowhere, a dart hit one of his wings. Within seconds he was unconcious and fell down right at the gates of Moria. And just a few meters from where he fell, Ezchtach the shifter was sneering at the eagle's stupidity, for he thought this was one of the greatest acomplishhments he ever made.

[Lief Erikson]

A Shadow appeared by Dagankor's side, as he lay on his bed at night.

"I have come from the Council," it announced. "I bring news."

Dagankor did not open his eyes, but continued to lie still. "Give it," he commanded, his voice soft.

"Our new breed of orcs is perfected. The first companies are ready to issue forth, to join the rest of our army. If you have any need of our strength, it is here, for you to direct."

"I do not need it. I have spoken with many of the leaders who will be participating in the Council already, and they are falling into my hand. But tell me, what are our foes doing?"

"There are three movements they have already taken, against us. They sent an eagle to ask Rohan for an alliance. We have sent the servant of the Council, the Beoring, to stop it before it reaches them.

"They have sent a company out, of warriors. Where they are going we don't yet know, but they are watched, as well.

"And they are doing everything they can to marshal their remaining military forces, at Néred. Against this, we have yet taken no action."

Dagankor opened his eyes and sat up. "There is no need. Our army alone would be sufficient to crush them, without the soldiers of Enedwaith that I am attempting to subvert."

"But not if they join our enemies."

"Assure the Council of the Shadowhand of this," Dagankor said, angrily. "My attempts to take control of these military forces will not fail. Last time, the forces that had been provided me were insufficient for me to take Enedwaith at once. I trust that this time the same mistake will not be made. The defenses that the Shadowhand provides me are the only question. Are they strong enough?

"Now go back to your masters. I will not fail. I have no use for the army of the Shadowhand as yet- the battle should not begin until we have this Council completed."

"As you wish." The Shadow bowed, and left him.

Dagankor stood up, still angry. The Shadowhand leaders distrusted him. Him! Without him, the Hytorax would not be theirs, and they would not nearly so close to possessing Enedwaith as they were now. But only a few days from now, the Council would begin. And upon its completion, their military force would have grown so great that not even the force of Rohan combined with that of Vahatres could win. And the magic of the Hytorax most important of all. It connected with the other magical items would create a construct that would seize control of magic over nearly all Middle Earth. That final victory was close to gained, incredibly close.

"But they must not waste our chance on rash action," Dagankor said, quietly. "And that company . . . what is it doing?"

[Yodaman]

Theodur and his company finally reached Rohan after a long two week march. Theodur, unlike more than half of his company, remembered Rohan before Ellasar came and fixed it up. It used to be a small little country with lots of little villiages scattered everywhere. Now most of the villiages met at Edoras, which was way better than it was before. Pratically every house was twice the size as it was before, and the Golden Hall was (of course) golden. Right as they were about to reach the front gates, two man on beautiful steeds came striding by in their horses. Theodur couldn't make them out first, but once they got a little closer, he couldn't dout who they were. They were King Eomer of Rohan and King Ellasar of Middle Earth.
"Hail King Eomer", cried Theodur, and the rest of his company followed. They then all got off their horses and bowed down on their knees. "Hail King Ellasar, Lord of Middle-Earth".
"Now now", said Ellasar. "You know I hate it when you do that".
"S..s..sorry, m'lord", said one of the soldiers. "I didn't mean to offend you.
"No offense taken", said Eomer. "Come", said Eomer. "Hezubael, my messenger boy, told me all about you."
"We will have food and drink and pleasure", said Ellasar. "March forth!" All of them then got on their horses and followed him. "Theodur. I need to see you in private". Theodur then followed the king into an open field where no one could see them.
"Theodur", said Aragorn. "I'm dying. Aelfwine, my son is dying. Even Arwen is dying! And not just the people whom are close to me, but all of Gondor is dying. Shadowhand must've release a biological weapon or something. Please, can you help us?" Theodur was speachless.

[Earniel]

Imarwyn trusted on the senses of the horses to detect any possible danger during the night before she would. Attuned to the usual manner of horses, she slept soundly that night. Any suspicious change in their behaviour would have woken her up immediatly.

But the night passed undisturbed and before dawn the three of them were already preparing themselves to leave again.

~~~

His horse nudged Tareod from his sleep. Still yawning, he got up. It was early yet but the rule of no fires was still observed. Which ment no warm draught to send the night-chill from his bones, said Tareod to himself with a sigh. He observed the rest of the group and then found one was missing.

"Where's Malagar?" he asked.

"He left during my watch," said Fimbren. "But no doubt he'll catch up with us sooner or later. He knows where we're going."

[Mathron]

Malagar moved through the night with the grace of a stalking panther - lean, sleek, and with an aura of menace that betrayed its passing despite its silence and speed.

That was fine by him. He knew they had seen him. He might be able to hide from their eyes, but the company as a whole could not - not without help.

Right now, he wasn't planning on hiding from them. He was planning on scaring them.

A rustling in the brush ahead gave away one Shadowhand warrior, and Malagar moved out of the shadows in a flash of darkness. His hand caught the enemy by the mouth, and swung him around and against the ground, smashing the air out of his foe. Malagar leaned back, hearing his captive's spine creak at the tension.

The figure didn't struggle, and Malagar leaned close. "Hello, little nightbird," he whispered, "I heard you singing in the night. You should really choose a less obvious code."

The figure gave no response. Malagar loosened his grip... and the man began to laugh, softly.

Malagar paused. Something... wasn't right.

Another voice spoke, in his ear, directly behind him. Nothing should have been able to sneak up on Malagar, but by the time he realized something had, it was already too late. "And you, little shadow-master, shouldn't be so eager to take the bait."

Harsh laughter boomed around him as Malagar spun about - but already whatever stood behind him was gone.

He dove to the side as a fist lashed through the air where his head had been, catching him a glancing blow despite his dodge. Even the fraction of a blow was enough to send piercing pain through him, but he dismissed it as he came out of his roll and rose to his feet.

No sign of his enemy. And his captive was missing.

He didn't even have any warning this time, just a sudden flurry of fists appeared out of the darkness and slammed repeatedly into his torso, hurling him backwards, against a tree. Shaking his head, Malagar still couldn't catch sight of his foe.

"Don't run away, little mouse..." the voice echoed through the entire clearing.

Malagar was worried. He wasn't used to being the prey, even despite his recent years bound by mortal conventions. Malagar was concerned. He didn't like not knowing what he was facing.

But more than that, Malagar was pissed. An ebony glow began to radiate from his eyes, and the shadows in the clearing began to flow into him.

He grinned, and let loose his own laughter, filled with power and confidence. "Then come, little cat. You've already lost your chance to finish me - care to truly test my power?"

His words echoed into the night. He stood there, unmoving, for several minutes, and then released the power harmlessly back inot the shadows.

Whatever had assailed him had gone. But he still remained unsure of what it had been. The Shadowhand sentries had escaped. The creature that had toyed with him was still out there... and for all he knew, there could be more of it.

Malagar shook his head. No. If the Shadowhand had an army of such beasts, they would have already won. Just another of their many servants, he supposed.

He smiled. It had lost the element of surprise. Now that he was ready for it, only one thing was tue - It might not know it yet, but it was already dead...



---


Far away, Aasinav opened his eyes. He permitted himself a very small smile. His body nearly shook with the effort of what he had done, but it had been worth it. The bait was set. Malagar, though he didn't know it yet, was already defeated. The others would soon follow.

He felt the comfort of his shadow as he took it back into himself. Let it rest there, for now. And let Malagar try to carry out whatever plan he might have. The Shadowhand's network stretched far and wide. Their final work was nearly complete. Their power nearly absolute. And against them stood... a dying and divided country? Some allies too feeble to even defend themselves? And one small company that knew not what it faced?

Aasinav almost wanted to laugh. He was ready. They were not.

And the War of the Shadow had begun.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren heard the cry of an eagle and looked up. But the sky was empty, the cry echoed again, but Fimbren realized it was within his mind, a piercing cry of pain. "Thorondor" he gasped.

The others looked at him. "He has been captured...or killed"

[Yodaman]

"What can I do?" asked Theodur. He didn't know what Aragorn was asking.
"You must find the Hytorax and destroy not only it, but Shadowhand", said Aragorn. "My son is dying. He's the only one at the moment, but I know more will be next. Will you help us?"
"Of course", said Theodur. "It's my duty to my King".
"Leave now", said Aragorn. "Leave when no one will see you. You must go alone. If more than one person goes it'll risk this mission. Do you understand me?"
"Yes", said Theodur. It pained him to say that. He didn't want to go on this silly quest. His duty was to his son and Rohan, but this was for the greater good. What if this Aragorn was a shapeshifter or the virus was just meant for the hiarchy of Gondor? That would mean he was doing a selfish task that Aragorn could do himself. But he knew he had to help him. It was his destiny.

[Lief Erikson]

"We are getting close to our destination," Aralle said. "I can feel it."

They were camped between two large, muddy, boulder strewn hills. The land around them seemed as if something foul had blasted it. The grass was yellow and dry, fluttering in the breeze with the passing of every breath of wind, like the few hairs on a balding man's head.

They had been on the move for several days now. The other company had a large distance to cover before it would reach the Shadowhand castle, but the military leaders' meeting was closer.

"Keep down," Glimdrell hissed, suddenly.

He flattened himself against a nearby boulder, and Aralle scattered the pieces of dry brush she'd been trying to form a fire from.

Imarwyn looked up, and from on top of the hill, they heard movement.

"Orcs," Glimdrell whispered to them, softly. His left hand moved down to the hilt of his dagger, but he raised his other, motioning for them not to move.

They heard the rustling of movement, above, and the sniffing of some creature. Soon they heard more. There must be a multitude of these beasts. The orcs weren't talking.

"Why are they waiting?" Imarwyn asked, in a low voice.

Glimdrell merely raised a finger to his lips, and waited.

A few minutes later, the sound grew again, and moved away.

"We are close," Aralle said, looking at him.

He nodded.

"So come, let's finish this job." Aralle stood up, and Glimdrell seized her arm.

"We'll be there tomorrow. We'll have to eat our meals cold, from now on."

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell nodded to Aralle. "If I only had brought any lembaswaf..."

Swoosh!

Suddenly Aralle cried out in pain as an arrow hit her.

A clean hit in the shoulder, the first shot hit a mark! Fired by an orc?

Glimdrell dipped to his stomack, without even realizing his own movement, and rolled into safety behind a stone.

"Aralle!"

Glimdrell reached out for Aralle's hand, determined to drag her into his shelter.


Swoosh! Swoosh! Swash!

Glimdrell retreated his hand quickly at the sound. A rain of arrows replied to his movement, miracolously none of them hitting Aralle.

"Imarwyn! Are you ok?"

[Lief Erikson]

*I've got your post saved here, because I've already edited my version. Go ahead and paste it back in and keep it.*

[Lief Erikson]

*Uh-oh. This could turn into a bad muddle.*

[Lief Erikson]

*Darn. My bad. Which version of events do you want to keep? Or should we just sequence events, so that after the mentioning of the cold food, then we have the firing squad? I'm saving your second post here, as well.*

[Arat-Falathion]

*dump*

[Lief Erikson]

Imarwyn was pulling an arrow from the rim of her boot. "Nicked, but nothing bad."

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell nodded as he pulled his shortbow from underneath his surcoat and fitted an arrow.

"Had nearly forgotten about this..." He said as he swung up from behind the stone and fired. He was nearly pierced by several arrows on his way down into sheltre again.

The divertion had let both Imarwyn and Aralle to find safer shelter atleast.

"How many are they?" Aralle asked, grinning all the while of the pain in her shoulder.

"I had no time to count, nor was it possible to see many of them. The orcs have actually sheltered themselves into perfect spots. I doubt I hit anything."

Glimdrell fitted another arrow to the string and took a deep breath, ready to spring up again.

[Lief Erikson]

Aralle peeked out from behind the boulder. "There's one getting away!"

Glimdrell sprang out, raised his bow, and fired. He saw the arrow connect with his target, and then he had danced back into hiding. An arrow had nicked his leg, though, in the space of time he was outside.

"Pull the arrow out of me!" Aralle said, sharply, to Imarwyn.

The woman stared.

"Do it now! We can't let any of this party get away. They all must die, or we're discovered and likely to be killed. Come on! I can only fight as a griffin, now!"

Imarwyn reached out, and pulled the arrow free.

Aralle doubled over, screaming. She gritted her teeth, then. She looked upwards and leapt into the air, transforming as she did.

"Come on, charge!"

She could see now, below. There were only two orcs, but each of them very large. Both were mounted upon large, shaggy haired creatures that clearly bore a similarity to wargs. What had been crossbred to achieve this monstrosity though, she could not imagine. They were probably twice as large as the normal warg, just as the orcs were half again as tall as the average Uruk-Hai.

One of them was galloping away, almost beyond catching. The other was looking up at her, his sharp teeth bared, raising his bow.

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell quickly broke the arrow and pulled it out of his leg. Quickly he produced a piece of clothing that he bound around the wound.

As he looked up again, he saw Aralle flying up into the sky.

"Hopefully that will devert them!" Glimdrell said, nicking another
arrow into place and jently rising from behind the rock.

Glimdrell scanned the area, but he could only see one orc, a tall orc on a warge-like creature. It was clearly aiming its bow up at Aralle.

Swiftly the elven arrow whipped through the air, piercing through the orcs neck and sprawling him beneath his warg. Glimdrell ducked, somehow predicting another rain of arrows aimed his way, but none came.

[Earniel]

Imarwyn quickly checked the bloodied arrow as Aralle ascended into the air. Doesn't look poisoned, she thought, good. If that was the case with all the fired arrows, the three of them would be alright. At least Aralle was still able to fly, and that with an arrowwound in the shoulder. Impressive.

Imarwyn leapt on Merrah's back, it would make her more exposed, but she counted on Aralle's ascend to draw most of the attention of the attackers.

Quickly she steered the horse around the large boulder. She saw one orc nearby, one further away, fleeing. The last one was already beyond a bow's reach but not too far to catch just yet.

"That one's mine." Imarwyn muttered and urged Merrah into a rapid run after the escapee. Behind her she heard the short gurgle of the other orc that choked on Glimdrell's arrow.

"Run Merrah, run! Show me Shadowfax isn't the only meara that can run like the wind!"

Merrah needed little encouragement for her rider to test her speed and kicking up turfs of parched grass, the meara flew after the warg.

[Tessar]

*OOC garh I'm sorry. I haven't been able to write anything decent for the past few days and this is the best I could do. It totally sucks :(. Mal, when she calls him 'lost one' she's not being mean or anything, that's just how she thinks of him, but not in a really mean rude way.*

Elise sat up straight in the night, ignoring the chill as her blankets fell away.

Somewhere in the forest she had sensed another being of great strength preparing to unleash his power, a dark power. Perhaps Aasinav was preparing to strike, and if so she would not give him the edge.

Scooping up her staff from the ground, Elise stood and strode past the night watcher, heading out into the forest as she summoned up her own power. Whatever the being was, it had less strength than her, and a creature as sneaky as Aasinav would be unlikely to face her in a head on battle.

The end of her staff burst into brilliant light as she moved out of the camp’s line of vision, she wasn’t stupid enough to wander around at night when a creature of darkness was nearby without a light to keep it from sneaking up on her.

The light of her staff brought everything into a pale, almost ghostly view, and as Elise hurried through the forest, grew brighter by the minute.

Suddenly the feeling of darkness left and Elise came to a halt, straining her senses to their limit. Either she had been correct and whatever it was had fled, or it knew her and waited now to attack physically. Her mind whirled as she spun about and scanned the darkness outside her staff’s illumination, less a movement of fear than making ready to lash out at anything that came into view.

Malagar slipped into view from behind a tree and Elise instantly relaxed. Slightly. Shadows seemed to cling to him, but fell back as he moved into the circle of light Elise’s staff radiated.

“A little late to be out walking.” he commented with a nod of greeting at her.

Elise nodded and gave him a piercing look, as if searching his soul for answers. They were apparently not forthcoming, and she grumped something under her breath as she turned and headed back towards the camp.

“I won’t ask what you’ve been about this night,” Elise said, pausing and turning to look at him again. “But I will say that you must be careful. There are forces at work here even I dare not think on too much, Lost One.”

[Yodaman]

Thedoar was basking in the sun. He hadn't had a break for weeks. Now, after a near case of death, he could relax and be at peace with his inner self. He didn't want his father or anyone else in the world to interrupt him.
"ATTENTION ALL COMPANY!" yelled his dad. Then the horn of Rohan, which was right next to Theodar, blew. He then jumped up, got his armor on, and ran to where all the other soldiers were. He didn't care about the basking anymore. He would hurt his dad later.
"... that the eagle has been shot down", was what Theodar could pick up when he arrived clad in his armor. "Theodar, my son, shall lead the company while Linden and I go solo and find the eagle, and mabey even the Hytorax. Thank you." What was this. He had to lead the army. He was so inexperienced.
"Dad..." said Theodar
"I know, my son", said Theodur. "But you must lead them. I trust you more than anyone else on this Earth."
"But I don't even know where we're going!" exclaimed Theodar. Then Theodur sighed and showed Theodar a map. "Here is where the Shadowhand base is supposed to be. You're supposed to attack there while Linden and I rescue the eagle. You go on..." Then Theodar started weeping. "Oh, my son. You will find your inner strength soon enough. And you will be a great warrior of Rohan and destroy all evil forever. I promise". Theodar then left his dad and went to the soldiers. He had a job to do.

[Lief Erikson]

The orc had not seen Aralle, yet. She watched him, eyes narrowed, as she plunged forward.

Off to the side she saw Imarwyn mounted on her horse, galloping full speed toward this orc.

Aralle raised her claws and fastened them into the orc's shoulders. At the same moment, she smashed her beek into the back of his head.

The orc roared, and Aralle's weight pulled him over the back of his horse, tossing both of them onto the ground. Aralle kept striking, clinging on, but the orc's huge hands came over the back of his head and grabbed her by her front legs. He heaved her all the way over his body and kicked her in the stomach with his great, iron shod foot.

Aralle collapsed on the ground and staggered to her feet, dazed.

The orc rubbed the back of his head with one hand, looking at it them, covered in his own blood. He turned his face then to Aralle and snarled, lowering one hand to the hilt of his sword.





Glimdrell notched another arrow and looked around the boulder, hesitantly. No more of those lethal arrows were coming.

But the orc he had shot through the neck had pulled the arrow out again, and was snarling in his direction.

Glimdrell's next arrow caught him in the back of the neck, as the orc turned, and the beast roared again, blood spattering out of his ruined throat. He clearly took far longer to die than an ordinary orc, as well.

The monster leapt onto his huge warg and turned on Glimdrell. His mount's jaws gaped open, saliva pouring from within as it crashed madly toward the elf assassin's place of hiding.

[Earniel]

The orc that faced Aralle never quite got the chance to pull out his sword.

What he did get was a very brief moment to look up in surprise when the large shadow of Merrah loomed over him. And then the mare's hooves smashed down on his helmet and obscured his view.

The orc crumbled to the ground, dark blood flowed from under his dented helmet on the parched grass.

Normally the blow must have killed him on the spot, but Imarwyn had begun to realise that 'normal' didn't always happen in Enedwaith these days. So she let Merrah kick the body further away.

The warg that had stayed away during from the fight, now came closer and sniffed the body of his immobile rider. It snarled, presenting Imarwyn with a view of a row of cruel, sharp teeth.

Imarwyn kept her horse between the warg and Aralle, giving the griffin some time to catch her breath.

"Are you alright, Aralle?" Imarwyn asked without taking her eyes of the warg.

[Lief Erikson]

"All right, yes," Aralle said, blinking and struggling to breath. It was hard, and painful.

The orc on the ground was moving again, slightly. Aralle leapt on him, crushing him again and again with her beak.

The warg was looking down at Aralle, opening its jaws. It rose to nearly twice her height, even while she was mounted.

"They are giants," Aralle cried.

She looked up at the warg and wiped the blood of her beak with her paw. The creature was beginning to move toward them at a rapid rate.

"Let's get out of here! We don't have the weapons to take him!"

Imarwyn turned and Merrah leapt away, a sleek shot of color in the sunlight. The warg thundered after her, as tall as a house, roaring loudly.

Aralle leapt into the air. Imarwyn should be able to get away, even despite the huge physical advantages of the warg.

Aralle's mighty wings beat heavily as she moved upward, looking down. Glimdrell.

She dove back toward the rocky hilltop, as the warg crashed into the boulder they'd hid behind and knocked it over. Glimdrell was visible, shooting two arrows into the creature's eyes. The beast waved its head, maddened, but its rider was still barely alive and capable of guiding it.

Imarwyn would just have to wait.

Aralle leapt on the warg from above, knocking him off his warg and tumbling with him onto the ground, fighting to put an end to him. He was too strong again, though. Aralle felt one of her wings about to break with the might of his grip, and she screamed, trying now to separate from him.

The sound attracted the warg which thundered toward them, opening its maw of razor sharp teeth.

Aralle leapt away just in time and the beast thundered by, its master's lifeless body in its mouth.

Glimdrell put an end to it at last with one final, well aimed arrow.

"Imarwyn," Aralle said, turning to Glimdrell. "We must kill the last remaining warg."

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell nodded. "You think you could carry me on the wind?"

[Lief Erikson]

Aralle felt a little doubtful, especially because of the bruises she'd received wrestling with the giants. Despite her minor injuries, and the arrow wound, would she be able to do this?

These doubts disappeared as she grabbed the elf's shoulders with her huge paws. Her wings beat heavily, and she soared upward, dragging him up with her. The wind bouyed her, catching in her wings, and she began to glide across the land. She moved as quickly as she could, gaining speed. She could see the warg dashing across the plain, and also noticed Imarwyn riding along behind them, with their horses.

There was no way the Rohirrim rider would catch up, now. But Aralle might.

Aralle was truly amazed, for the elf she was carrying hardly seemed to weigh a thing. It was as if she was carrying a small pack of goods in her hand, rather than a heavy person.

The elf drew his bow taut and aimed the arrow for the warg's head. He let loose the shaft, and the warg raised its head, roaring angrily. The arrow had deflected off of its thick skull.

Glimdrell aimed more carefully, and let loose a second shaft. Again it missed the huge creature, but it was slowing to a stop, now. It was almost unhurt, but it was looking at them in furious anger, wondering how to get at them.

Aralle flew Glimdrell closer, much closer to the warg.

A small flicker of fear appeared on the elf's face as they approached the creature. Then the warg suddenly rose up on its hind legs and leapt for them. His massive paws flashed in the air, and Glimdrell's single arrow flew straight into the mass of power below them.

The great hairy mound of flesh and bone crashed onto the ground like a stone tower. The end of Glimdrell's arrow was barely visible, poking out through the dead monster's eye.

Aralle breathed a long sigh of relief, and lowered herself and Glimdrell down to the ground. "No one even spotted it."

"It won't be long before they do," Glimdrell said, walking over to the creature and tugging out his arrow.

"Tomorrow we'll be in their encampment," Aralle said, firmly. "Success or failure, tomorrow this quest shall meet its climax."

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell always paced a couple of steps in front of the others as they continued their journey through the night. Dipping from shadow to shadow (as often as the bare land gave shelter) in the moonlit night, they closed in swiftly and silently, alert to all that happened around them and on watch for anything unusual.

The bow was back on the rogue's back now, his arms swinging in perfect harmony with his running feet, in integral balance. Behind came Imarwyn and Aralle, both riding and leading Glimdrell's horse. The elf came to a hold at the top of a small hill and crept prone to the edge. A dense fog lay scattered over the land beyond, hindering his keen eyes from examining the land, yet he heard grunts and the chimes of armour, and a strange heated stench tingled at his face.

He turned around to the others, his features honestly wrought with fear and disgust. They had already stepped down from their horses to join him.

"Your watch, Gurthbag!" a grunting voice suddenly cut through the silent presence of the company. "Me's not for staying here so dumbfoundly for longer than me has to! Okthar is hungry, me needs food!"

Both Imarwyn and Aralle dipped to the ground instinctively as the voice sounded. And a silence followed, a torturing pause. If they were seen here, they might as well get an army to fight.

"...Gurthbag! YOUR WATCH!!!"

"Gurthbag's coming, Gurthbag's coming, stupid!"

...and in that moment one of the horses made a stamping sound...

[Lief Erikson]

The voices went silent.

"You hear that?" the voice of Okthar said.

"Gurthbag didn't hear nothing, stupid! Gurthbag only hears real sounds!"

"Gagh," the other voice snarled.

There was the sound of a blade ringing from its sheath, and then feet running away.

"Kill it someday," Okthar's large voice growled.

The sound of huge iron shod feet lumbering through the undergrowth reached their ears, easily. The creature was heading toward them.

Aralle jumped quietly off her horse, but as she did she spread her wings, transforming once again into a griffin.

She flew through off into the fog, and after getting a distance away from the company, she repeated the horse's noise by thumping her foot against the ground, noticeably.

"Who's there?" the voice growled.

She heard him coming her way, now. She had tried to draw him away from her companions. Had it worked?

"Crumgor!" the voice shouted, suddenly. "There's something out here!"

A couple shouts sounded from further off.

Aralle transformed into a woman and started to run away from the camp. Her footsteps were heard by the beast and she heard his huge steps thundering after, gaining on her.

Aralle transformed once again and shot off the ground, disappearing in the fog. Underneath her, she saw the huge body of a gigantic orc run by. He was holding a bow and arrow in his hands.

Aralle soared quickly down to her comrades.

The sound of running footsteps from the other orcs were approaching. They were still far enough away, but there was no time to lose.

"Come on, charge in!" she said to the others. "He's out for the moment, but he'll be back."

She leapt onto the horse, again a human, and they were cantering toward the enemy encampment. They could not gallop for fear of being heard, and the suspense to Aralle was unbearable. The footsteps were close now, too close.

Not far away, they saw the huge bodies of four orcs thunder past them, nearly as fast as a horse could run.

Aralle let out the breath she'd been holding. "Thanks be to the Valar for the fog. We're in. First we must find Hruad and Dolais, if they're still alive. Then the council. Hurry."

She hastened the speed of her horse, riding with her comrades toward the camp.

[Arat-Falathion]

Iriana woke, still resting against her horse's sleeping body, and saw both Malagar and Elise returning from beyond the camp.

"What news does our surroundings tell?" Iriana asked lightly as she jumped to her feet.

Both turned the answer away in silence.

"Pack your things!" Elise ordered, "the sooner we reach our destination and its quest, the better."

Soon they were on the move again...

[Arat-Falathion]

"...and where should we expect the captives to be?" Imarwyn voiced as they passed through the fog, never knowing how far away the camp was at any given time.

"We'll first have to know what kind of stronghold they host here..." Aralle replied, "Little is known of this area, haunted by shadows and the dreadful mists covering the land, people say, obfuscating the valley. Yet I suspect it is only lies forged by the Shadow Hand for seclusiveness and secresy."

"Cunning!" Glimdrell added, and Imarwyn couldn't help but notice the sparkle in his elven eyes, a shimmer of expectation and nervosity, yet sureness and eagerness.

They rode on for a little while longer when Glimdrell staggered them. "I see a silouett ahead through the fog!" the elf whispered. "Looks like a wall, spanning wide across the valley floor... both ends disapear into the mist, I can not see clearly."


----------------------------

Iriana found herself riding beside Fimbren as they followed Malagar and Elise in the front. Regarding his slender form she noticed the calm on his face, not showing an emotion of fear for the comming storm. He was a veteran she knew, one who had seen more war then she had walked on the soil of this earth. She noticed the sword at his side, likewise undaunted. A legendary sword he possessed, indeed a warrior which was good to be allied with at an upcoming event such as the one at hand.

"You seem unworried of the coming war..." Iriana had to compliment the elven warrior.

[Lief Erikson]

"That is it," Aralle said, softly. "The city of Lond Daer. It and Tharbad, the great cities of Enedwaith were all destroyed or forgotten, long ago. They have yet to be rebuilt by the new kingdom that is established."

She looked to either side at her comrades. "For now, their ruin is our advantage."

She hurried forward, the elf and woman close behind her. They passed the first stone building, and flitted behind a sentry like shadows. It was a man, clad in the colors of Enedwaith.

He whirled around and looked after them for several seconds, before shrugging and continuing his march.

"In here somewhere are the representatives," Aralle said, peering closely into the hollow mouth of each stone building as they passed.

"What are you looking for?"

Aralle looked straight ahead, startled, into the green eyes of a young Enedwaith soldier. He had short blond hair and a clean shaven face, and his left hand held the pommel of his sword loosely.

"We are looking for the place where the prisoners are kept," Aralle told him. "We also don't know where the council is being held, and my friend from Rohan is long overdue."

The soldier smiled at Imarwyn, and bowed to her. "This is great tidings. We have had no voice from Rohan yet in our deliberations. I will take her to the council myself.

"As for the prisons . . . I have no idea what you need with them, but they're one block to your right."

"Thank-you," Aralle said, inclining her head to him.

Imarwyn laid her feet lightly against her horse's sides and the animal began to walk quickly up to the soldier. She followed him, disappearing moments later into the fog.

Aralle then turned, riding quickly in the direction the soldier had indicated. It wasn't long before they saw soldiers guarding the entrance. Five of them, watching closely.

"We shall not pass them so easily," Aralle said. She turned to look at Glimdrell, and transformed. "But they do not have watchers that can fly."

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell smiled gladly at that thought, indeed they were lucky being allied with a griffin in this war.

"You want me to do something?" He asked.

[Yodaman]

Liren packed her bags for the approaching quest. She knew she had an important part in this. That's why the Wizards chose her.
"Those Shadowhand fools", thought Liren. "They should've let me kill him sooner. Now I have to go on this stupid little quest and fake nice longer so they can get their man." She then thought about Theodur. He WAS a nice, attractive man. He was nice to her when she was depresed (well, it was faked, but still...) and always helped her out. It was as if they were in love.
"No", thought Liren. "I musn't think like that. I have to kill him. I HAVE TO KILL HIM NOW!" She then threw her bag across the room, and clothes scatterd everywhere.
"RAAAAAAAAAA!" yelled Liren. She then ran and picked up all the clothes rapidly. Just as she was putting the last of the clothes in, Theodur came out.
"My lady", said Theodur. "You better hurry up. The stablemen are getting impatient".
"Okay, okay", said Liren. She then sealed her bag and walked off with Theodur. Now was when she would snare her prey.

[Lief Erikson]

"You're the assassin. I'm going to need you to get them out."

Aralle grabbed Glimdrell and heaved herself upward into the air, using the sheer power of her wings. They were alone in the blanket of fog for several seconds, and then they descended again.

They were alone, on the roof of a small house.

"I'm not so skilled as you at this kind of thing," Aralle said, softly. "The rest of this will be up to you."

[Yodaman]

Theodur led Liren out of the halls of Edoras and into its stables. There were many horses and they were all being watched by one man- an old, scruffy man.
"What do you want?" yelled the old man.
"We want to depart with our horse", said Theodur.
"WHICH ONE?"
"The brown one".
"WHICH BROWN ONE?"
"LET ME PICK IT ORC BRAIN!" Theodur then pushed the old man out of the way and went to his horse, which was the very last one. He untied all the ropes and strattled on it.
"Come on!", Theodur told Liren. Liren then got on him and they left the stable.
"THAT WILL BE 10 EXTRA GOLD PEICES!", yelled the old man.
"Yeah, whatever", muttered Theodur. They then sped right out of the stable and into the wild, where their destiny would await them.

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell nodded, his eyes sparkeling with an inner light. He pulled the surcoat about him and walked easily to the front end of the roof.

Five soldiers stood by the entrance door, ever alert to their surroundings. Glimdrell shook his head, the entrance was probably locked as well.

"I do not believe I will use the entrance... to many things could go wrong..." the elf said as he faced Aralle once more. He circled the roof from one end to the other, checking for any windows set on the house's three remaining walls, but found none.

He shook his head again, and sighed. "This will be harder then I thought!" Sitting down beside the griffin, he rested his head in his hands and stared about, thinking. There shouldn't be any stronghold he couldn't go through, no walls stopping him.

He paused his contemplation for a moment, and fixed his stare at the roofstones. Taking a firm grip on one of them, he jently janked it free without a sound. Aralle nodded sincerely. Soon the elf had cleared a small part of the roofs eastern top stones, just big enough a hole for the elf to slip through.

Glimdrell went head first into the hole, carefully, and tried to get an overview of the room inside. He saw four cells in a row on his left and two cells on his right, followed by a short walkway which ended by the entrance door. Beyond that, one more cell. It was dimly lit, the only lightsource being a flickering candle over the entrance door, but Glimdrells keen elven eyes penetrated the darkness. By the door he saw one guard standing with arms crossed over his chest and tapping his foot impatiently. The elf saw noone in the closest cells, the three furthest away was impossible to determine.

Glimdrell withdrew his head from the hole and nodded to Aralle, a slight smile appearing on his lips as he waved his goodbye. Feet first this time, the elf slipped through the hole and landed quietly on the dusty floor beneath. He tucked the magical surcoat around him and proned to the floor, nearly disapearing into his surroundings. Confirming that the guard hadn't noticed his entré, the elf slowly made his way over the floor, passing the two cells. He stopped and lay perfectly still there, at one with the floor by the walkway.

If he could only kill the lightsource the rest would go effortlessly the elf thought, if not... An idea came to Glimdrell then and he looked to his right, where the third cell stood. And his guess was right, in it sat one of the captives. Who, the elf did not know.

Glimdrell pulled a bit of his hood back, revealing his face to the man sitting inside, hoping he would notice him. Long he lay there in the same prone position, hoping that the captives eyes would fall upon him, and they did...

The man cried out in terror, seeing the elven face laying on the stone.

"Hey! Shut your mouth!" The guard yelled.

"But I, but... I... I saw a dead face on the floor!!" the man stammered frightenly.

"What? Where?"

"There!" The man said, pointing at the spot he had seen the elf, but quickly withdrew his hand, noticing the face was gone.

"You must be mad!" the guard cried.

A knock on the door resounded, and a guards eyes from outside appeared in a small hole on the door which opened in eyelevel.

"Any problems?" the guard on the outside asked.

"No, the prisoners thinks he saw a ghost."

The guards on the outside laughted and shut the hole.

Inside, the guard drew his sword and walked over to the cell. "You do not make such a joke again, or I'll cut you a nice scare on your face!" The guard pointed his sword at the prisoner, and suddenly the captives' eyes widened in terror. "Yes, you better know who you are dealing wi..."

Glimdrells dagger dug hungrily into the mans throat, cutting the guards word in midsentence, silenced by death. The guards outstretched arm holding the sword went limp, loosing its grip on the weapon.

"Take it!" Glimdrell whispered to the prisoner. "Quickly!"

Too late. The sword hit the floor with an unmistakably resound in the stonebuilt house. Glimdrell quickly withdrew his dagger and let the corpse fall limply to the floor, causing quite a lot of noice once again. Up came Glimdrells sabre in his other hand as he jumped for cover in the ceiling.

Four guards came storming into the room, armed with swords and spears. Running feet could be heard on the outside, caused by the fifth guard, and the unmistakable sound of wings against air...

[Yodaman]

Thorondor woke up and found himself in a room. He tried to get up, but that was prevented by a group of chains on his wings. He looked at his body and saw that his whole body was bound in chains so that he couldn't move any parts except his mouth and eyes. He then heard a pitter-patter sound in the room and saw an orc-thing come towards him.

"So", said the orc-thing. "Thorondor, isn't it?" Thorondor then tried to spit at the orc but the spit ended up landing on his own body. The orc then laughed hysterically.

"Pathetic", said the orc-thing. He then drew out a long, sharp, rusty blade and held it to Thorondor's throat.

"You think that can stop me?" exclaimed Thorondor.

"Yes", said the orc thing. "I can". He then reached to Thorondor's wing and plucked a feather from his body.

"You see this?" saiad the orc-thing. "This is the first of many that will be plucked from your body one by one by one". He then reached to shove the feather down Thorondor's throat but Thorondor bit his hand off in defiance.

[Yodaman]

Thorondor woke up and found himself in a room. He tried to get up, but that was prevented by a group of chains on his wings. He looked at his body and saw that his whole body was bound in chains so that he couldn't move any parts except his mouth and eyes. He then heard a pitter-patter sound in the room and saw an orc-thing come towards him.

"So", said the orc-thing. "Thorondor, isn't it?" Thorondor then tried to spit at the orc but the spit ended up landing on his own body. The orc then laughed hysterically.

"Pathetic", said the orc-thing. He then drew out a long, sharp, rusty blade and held it to Thorondor's throat.

"You think that can stop me?" exclaimed Thorondor.

"Yes", said the orc thing. "I can". He then reached to Thorondor's wing and plucked a feather from his body.

"You see this?" saiad the orc-thing. "This is the first of many that will be plucked from your body one by one by one". He then reached to shove the feather down Thorondor's throat but Thorondor bit his hand off in defiance.

"MISERABLE BEAST!" yelled the orc-thing. Thorondor then sreached so loudly that all of Middle-Earth basically heard it. The orc then drew the rusty blade and poked Thorondor's eye out. He then got a bottle of some poison and poured it over Thorondor's wounded eye slit.

"That's what you get for defying the will of Shadowhand", said the orc-thing. He then left Thorondor alone. Thorondor then cried himself to sleep.

[Tessar]

Hoof beats marked the companies passage under a pale, pre-dawn sky, a gentle wind swirling old leaves that covered the ground and covering the parties' tracks... to a small extent any ways.

Riding her horse to each member of the group one at a time, Elise set about questioning them. Mainly she asked about their lives leading up to when she first met them. With varying amounts of willingness from each person, she was able top draw out a good deal of information. Aasinav had been a very bad mistake, and she would not make that same mistake again.

Malagar she left alone. She knew his past. He was of little interest to her, but she trusted him in a strange way, and that was a small comfort. The only person she trusted more was herself, which made her list of true allies very, very small. But she had worked with less, and in harder situations. It seemed that her time here on middle earth might be drawing to a close soon, but at the least not before this task was done.



(OOC: If anyone would like, they can RP Elise asking them some questions, or we could skip right ahead to the finding our friends part ;))

[Earniel]

The fairhaired soldier led Imarwyn through the fog, away from Aralle and Glimdrell. A little further, a large building rose from out the mist in front of them.

"This is where the council is held." announced Imarwyn's guide. He walked over to the entrance and knocked on the door. Another man, dressed in the Enedwaith uniform answered the door and asked the young soldier his business.

"A messenger from Rohan has arrived. She wishes to speak at the council."

The doorkeeper looked in surprise at the Rohirrim-woman. "We did not expect one to come anymore," he said, "But you are all the more welcome, my lady. Please follow me, I will take you to the council."

Imarwyn nodded and decended.

The young soldier carefully took the reigns of Merrah. "I will take care of your horse, my lady."

Imarwyn wasn't entirely happy to be seperated from her horse but nodded. "Thank you, where will you take her?"

"There is a stable just around the corner where all the horses of the representatives are kept. She is in good hands there."

"Very well. You won't have to tie her down, she's well trained."

"I would believe so," said the young soldier looking in awe at the horse. "She must be one of the most beautiful horses I have ever seen." He said softly.

Imarwyn smiled at his praise and with a quick rub over Merrah's forehead and a nod to the soldier she said goodbye and entered the building.

[Lief Erikson]

The guard just began to cry out for help, but he never got the words out. Something struck him from behind and he was clipped neatly down by the griffin, before making it more than a few steps out of the guard house.

Aralle looked down again, quickly wiping the blood from her beak with a paw. She could cover the exit, she hoped. Any interior fighting she could not handle. It was up to Glimdrell, all of it. He wasn't trained for battle, but this was the kind of mission he was used to.

"Come on," she groaned, anxiously. "Show your mettle."

[Lief Erikson]

The council was in full session.

The general Grifwold was leaned forward in his chair, debating with a couple other generals, Lemawin and Fwahal. Four other important generals were seated in the room, along with Dagankor.

Dagankor felt something move within the spirit realm at the same moment his other two Shadowhand wizards did. The two of them were on the outside guarding this place, protecting it from unwelcome intruders. Apparently they had just encountered one.





The air was sucked from Imarwyn's lungs as she walked, and it would not return. The doorkeeper struck her in the forehead with his right hand, knocking her smoothly to the floor. Another spell rippled from his fingers, but Imarwyn finally was reacting to the sudden attack.

She kicked upward and her foot hit the man's hand, jerking his aim off course. A silver blade of visible energy missed her and hit the wall, smashing stones free from their lodging places.

Blackness was already beginning to fill Imarwyn's vision. There had been no need for the attempted killing spell. Air was still being tugged at from her lungs, even though there was none left. The spell was killing her.

Imarwyn's body was weakening swiftly, and her vision was almost gone. There was nothing but blackness- her eyes were beginning to roll back.

No! This was death. She still barely could feel her own body.

Imarwyn slipped her knife from her sheath, managing to focus again. She threw it.

A scream burst from the throat of her attacker, and air was suddenly available again to Imarwyn's lungs.

She gasped for breath, her hands clutching the stone steps beneath her, hard. Glancing down again, she caught sight of the attacking wizard, her knife buried in his arm. He was howling over the pain, and the door behind them was bursting open, the stairway filling with people.

[Earniel]

Still shivering, Imarwyn got up with some difficulty, clawing at the wall for support. I should have known they wouldn't have let me into the council that easily, she said angrily to herself.

She looked at the people that had appeared in the corridor, none made any move to come closer to her or her attacker. Some looked in puzzlement at the scene before them while others gave Imarwyn dark looks with unveiled menace.

But Imarwyn wouldn't give up the game so easily, especially not after the cowardly attack. She took two deep breaths before she trusted her voice again.

"Is this how messengers from Rohan are received in Enedwaith these days? With dark spells and death at the door? A fine example of courtesy you have shown to the Mark of Rohan in receiving me thus, lords of Enedwaith!"

Anger gave her voice strenght and her words rung in the hallway.

[Arat-Falathion]

From his perch under the ceiling, Glimdrell watched as the four guards came rushing in. He counted two swords and two spears, all wearing an additional shield on their other arm. The guards assembled around the corpse, looking about hastily.

"What happened?!" The guards all shouted at the prisoner of the third cell.

"A... a... ghost!" the prisoner stammered, then shrugged realizing what he just had said, and added: "It all happened so fast!"

"LIAR!" One guard spat. "You killed him! Show us your weapon!"

"I... I... I.." the prisoner stammered. "I.."

Glimdrell let go of his hold and descended swiftly down behind the guards, placing his dagger perfectly into one guards exposed neck. A spear fell to the floor, followed by a limp body. The guards turned to regard him, weapons at a ready.

"Aralle." Glimdrell whispered, knowing that the griffin would eather hear or feel his speech. "Puff out the candle light."

The two guards wielding swords stormed right in, without though, their blades weaving with impressive skill. Glimdrell blocked the first few slashes awkwardly with his sabre, suddenly feeling strangely out of place in this hard pressed confrontation. Indeed his facade of confidence couldn't hide his lack of skill with his weapon.

Suddenly one guard jumped forth confidently with a piercing stab, and only the elf's agility and reaction saved him. He sidestepped away from both guards, his back against one of the cells, and countered with his dagger, slashing a neat cut along the guards forearm.

"Aralle!" Glimdrell thought, then barely managed to block an incoming blade, missed a counter attack and suddenly found himself facing a large shield. He dodged quickly further into the room and landed in a roll that put him quickly back on his feet. Suddenly he found himself facing the third guard.

The spear was already raised above the guards head, ready for the killing throw. Glimdrell knew he could never get his sabre up in time, knew that even if he did, the two other guards would be on his back before he could turn. Their eyes locked as the spear shot forward and as the sabre simultaniously came up in a futile attempt to parry, but the guard's eyes suddenly widdened and the incomming spear janked wierdly to the side.

Quickly regaining some control of his sences, as a last deed of service for the Shadowhand, the guard managed to adjust his spears direction somewhat, digging it into Glimdrells left shoulder. The elf cried out in pain, yet managed to notice the blood pouring out of the guards mouth, Glimdrell recognized a blade penetrating the mans thorax. Behind the dying guard, the elf met the determined eyes of a prisoner; -it brought new strength to the elven assassin.

The guards behind Glimdrell charged in, screaming threateningly. Glimdrell junked the spear free and started to turn, then the light went out...

[Lief Erikson]

"An ambassador?" Dagankor said, softly. "Are you asking us to believe a mere ambassador has the skill to disable a wizard assailant?

"I have seen you once before," he continued, his eyes narrowing. "In Néred. You were one of the insurgents that helped to conquer the mind of the king. Hardly an activity an unbiased ambassador from Rohan would take, I believe. Now, still, you attempt to spread your side's foul influences. When a Shadowhand wizard recognizes you for what you are, you successfully put him out of the way."

Dagankor took a single step closer to her, further up the stairs, still speaking softly. "I am accusing you, woman. How do you answer? Tell me.

"Were you never in Néred? Did you come here without the intention of bringing these men over to the rebel cause?"

[Lief Erikson]

Dolais trembled slightly as he looked down at the bloody knife in his hand. This was the first time he had ever killed a man, and he didn't even know that the person had been a true enemy. If he had been an Enedwaith soldier, then Dolais had the blood of one of his own upon his head.

Glimdrell seemed to show no such cumpunctions as he engaged the remaining two guards.

Inky blackness filled the room, and Dolais twisted around, looking in the direction of the candle. Someone's shirt had been thrown from one of the cells, another prisoner smothering the wick.

There were only two prisoners in this place, as Dolais remembered it.

He tried to run but only managed to stagger toward the other man's place of imprisonment. Dolais was weak, very weak. Pain shot up through his side, the place where the spear thrust had taken him.

Tears came to his eyes as he reached Hruad's cell.

"We will escape, don't fear," Hruad said, grimly, from the other side. "Darkness is Glimdrell's ally."

[Arat-Falathion]

Screams, steel against flesh and the sound of limp bodies hitting the floor resounded in the darkened room, then everything went quiet.

The entrance door opened from the outside, filling the room with a magical, dim light that casted rays of blue through the dusty air. In the middle of the hallway one could see the silouett of a humanoid holding a dripping sabre...

and in through the entrance, filling the room with light, stepped a woman...

[Lief Erikson]

Aralle looked around quickly, unable to discern anything in the inky blackness.

"The entrance outside is secure," she said, hopefully.

She walked in a little further, and nearly bumped into Dolais.

"Which one had the key?" she asked.

"It doesn't matter," Glimdrell said, calmly, as he materialized right next to her out of the darkness.

He raised his hand to the door lock, and there was a scraping sound of metal on metal. Then the lock clicked, and the door swung open.

Hruad stepped through, and Dolais passed him his shirt.

"The council itself is the next step," Aralle said. "We must be ready to help Imarwyn, if she needs us. Come on!"

Turning, she led them quickly up out of the prison.

Dolais and Aralle wiped their weapons off on a soldier's cloak, a man who's head had been cracked sharply.

"It's this way," Aralle said as she led them away, among the buildings.

[Arat-Falathion]

Soon they could see the large building in which the council took place.

"No guards at the entrance." Glimdrell was quick to acknowledge.

Aralle nodded. "As I feared..."

[Earniel]

"The women of Rohan are trained in more than preparing meals and nursing children, Shadowhand wizard." said Imarwyn proudly. "But betrayal and spreading foul influences are not among them, we leave that to wizards. We in Rohan have not yet forgotten Saruman's evil."

"If you care to take a closer look at your wizard doorkeeper, you'll see my knive in his arm. Honest, normal steel. I must say I'm pleased to find it can stop even magic. Unlike him, " she continued as she pointed to the wizard still clutching his arm, "I don't use magic to cowardly attack people. Can you swear the same?"

"Yes, I have been to Néred, but not as an insurgent as you claim. A poor unbiased ambassador I would be if I did not see both sides of the conflict. So yes, you did see me in Néred."

Imarwyn took a step closer. "As for your last accusation, I can say in thruth that I did not come here to bring these men over to any rebel cause. Little faith you have in their judgement if you think that I would be able to determine which side they follow. But then that would explain why your doorwarden tries to slay with spells a visitor who wields no magic whatsoever. Do you fear a voice of reason that much, Shadowhand wizard? Answer me that. "

[Lief Erikson]

"A Shadowhand wizard attacks you and because of your Rohan training, you beat him. Very, very skillful indeed, I must say," he continued, sarcastically. "Extremely well done. I would actually never have guessed it possible!"

Dagankor laughed and headed down the stairs, the rest of them trailing after him, until he reached the Council Chamber again. It was a broad stone room with a dozen chairs standing in a circle.

Already Dagankor's mind had picked upon a way to use this sudden intrusion to his own advantage. He had manipulated the council party in the past, and he could do it again.

Dagankor began to release the spell he had wound about the minds of the Council Members, and he didn't release it slowly. He released it steadily and quickly, so that the release would be noticable to the individuals undergoing it.

Dagankor threw back his head casually, looking at the roof. "The likelihood that a normal assassin would fail when launching a surprise attack is remote. The likelihood that a wizard would fail to an ambassador, in such a surprise attack . . . I need hardly say, it is far more remote."

He turned to face Imarwyn, his eyes piercing. "You went with Athalt Cranain to put a stop to the band of rebels that tried to take the Hytorax. You and Athalt betrayed me and the king, though, joining with the rebels instead to give them access to the king's very chambers.

"One does not have to be close to the Hytorax to use its power. It can be from far away that it is used. This is what you did, to disable the wizard that attempted to restrain you, and this is what I warn the council you will try to use now."

"Us Rohirrim do not use magic," the woman said, stepping closer to Dagankor.

Dagankor was in his point of power. The councilors already were beginning to side with him again. They had felt the spell's release, but his explanation fit it perfectly. Now their less heavily influenced perspectives would appear to them to be the enchantment, rather than the absence of it.

Dagankor held back a smirk, as he began to lay a new spell onto the men, quickly and rapidly. Very rapidly. The fools didn't know how magic worked, and they would feel themselves falling very much in favor of the woman's position. Unnaturally so.

Sure enough. The shift from heavy influence one way to heavy influence the other way had been very vast, and all within a couple minutes. Dagankor felt the men fighting him vigorously with their minds.

"It is a spell!" one of them exclaimed, loudly. Their eyes were locked upon the Rohirrim woman.

"I never used one. Look at the dagger, the only harm that was done the wizard. Allow me to answer you all now," the Rohirrim woman said, looking Dagankor in the eyes. Her face was fair and her eyes proud, but she did not realize what he was doing. Dagankor hardly saw her face as he focused upon his spell.

Dagankor focused his maximum effort upon one of the men, one of those that had been most fully on the the woman's side anyway. He strained hard, struggling with the man's feeble efforts to resist, to keep an open mind. Dagankor broke into the man, and turned him over to the ambassador's side. Turned him recklessly that way.

"We should join Rohan and Enedwaith, and fight for freedom!" the man cried, drawing his sword.

"Blast you Dagankor, DO something!" Grifwold cried, drawing his own sword and charging the ambassador.

Dagankor detonated a fireball between himself and Imarwyn, inches from himself. He threw himself backward through the air, landing hard on his back, his robes caught up in the greedy flames.

[Finrod Felagund]

OOC: hey, where's Fimbren right now...I've been off for a while

[Earniel]

Imarwyn threw her arms before her face when the fireball exploded and tried to turn away from the bright light. A wave of heat washed over her and threw her off her feet. Slightly dazed, she sat up again and much to her surprise, she was unharmed. She quickly put out the few stray sparks that had fallen on her clothing before they could catch fire.

Across the room Dagankor lay on his back, his clothes on fire. All around them, the men of Enedwaith stood uncertain. Even Grifwold had stopped his charge at Imarwyn.

"Don't just stand there!" she yelled, "Put that fire out! Can't you see the man's on fire? His spell must have backfired at him."

At her words, the council seemed to wake up and several man hurried over to Dagankor and used their mantles to choke the flames.

Imarwyn scrambled to her feet. But Grifwold seemed to wake up as well and pointed his sword at her.

"No more spells, sorceress. Stay where you are."

Imarwyn looked from Grifwold to Dagankor and back. "You think that I..." anger choked the rest of the sentence.

"You heard me," said Grifwold darkly.

How am I to make this people see reason, Imarwyn thought bitterly, if spells are woven around me when I can't even see them? They should have sent Elise, not me.

It might have been a wise decision to escape the council in this confusion and leave it in the Shadowhand's control but the fire spell and the accusations of sorcery had enraged Imarwyn and her pride flared up.

"If you can't even see that the Rohirrim do not weild magic then I truly doubt that you can lead this country and military. You have a known wizard among you," she said as she pointed to Dagankor, "who is also the sole source you have of the so-called treason in Néred and yet you accuse me of sorcery? By Helm's Hammer! Were we in Rohan, I'd demand you'd answer for that insult."

[Lief Erikson]

"We are in Rohan," Dagankor snarled, furiously, as he drew himself up to his feet. "And it shall be you that pays."

A trail of blood was running down from his lip, and he raised both hands to point them at Imarwyn.

A blow caught her in the stomach, hurtling her backward across the room, to bounce off the wall.

An instant later, two more fireballs exploded near Dagankor, throwing him farther back and spraying a shower of his blood from his shoulder and arm.

He caught Imarwyn around the throat with his magic, strangling her voice to keep her from speaking.

The other men in the room stared, helpless, at the apparent desperate battle between two weilders of magic. Dagankor used the moment to tighten his hold upon their minds noticably, in favor if Imarwyn.

He didn't know how long he'd be able to keep up this charade, and was relieved when the other two Shadowhand wizards dashed in. They took a single glance at the situation, and realized swiftly what Dagankor was doing.

"Kill her . . . kill her!" Dagankor gasped, through gritted teeth.

"No!" shouted the man Dagankor had possessed.

Raising his sword, the fellow rushed Dagankor. Grifwold speared him through with his own sword.

The Shadowhand wizards began to raise the charade of joining the battle.

Dagankor changed the spell controlling the generals in a moment, throwing them back as firmly in favor of his plans as they'd been in the beginning. The added threat to Imarwyn from the wizards would serve as sufficient explanation to their minds.

The generals could not be won by the ambassador. So now, all that remained was to kill off Imarwyn.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren felt it, somewhere in the far distance, there was dark magic at work.
"Some evil is at work in Rohan, and I fear Eomer may not be able to stop it, I think Eomer knows not of it."

[Earniel]

Bright sparks started to dance before Imarwyn's eyes from lack of air. Pain numbed her senses. Feebly, she clawed at her throat, as if to push away the magic that stiffled her breath. But Dagankor's magical grip did not relent.

Instinctively, she reached with her hand behind her back to her last resort. Relieve surged through her as her fingers closed around the hilt of the knife. But her fingers started to feel lifeless and she feared the knife would slip from her grasp. With difficulty she jerked it free from its sheath, her hand trembled with effort to hold on to it.

The death she had felt approaching in her fight with the doorkeeper now seemed to have returned to claim her. But she still had one last chance before all was lost. One last chance. The words echoed in her mind. Only one of her knives now remained to her as she had not been able to retrieve the other one after using it on the treacherous doorkeeper. One would have to do.

Her vision was blurred now and Imarwyn knew darkness soon would come. She willed her failing muscles to obey her as she poured all strength, anger and indignation she had left in one burst of movement. And her last rohirric knife shot from her hand. But Imarwyn herself was oblivious whether it reached its intended target or not for as soon as the knife had left her hand, she slumped unconcious and exhausted on the ground.

~~~~

Tareod surveyed the woods around him and his company. Before him rode Malagar and Finrod, both also very alert to their surroundings. Behind him came Iriana and Elise, talking in hushed tones to one another, but Tareod paid little attention to their conversation. Yet he assumed the women were as much on their guard as the rest.

A strange chill seemed to grow in Tareod's heart. It reminded him of how horses must feel the approach of wargs. "We're getting close now." he muttered softly.

"We are indeed," anwered Malagar, much to Tareod's surprise who hadn't thought the man would have heard him.

[Yodaman]

Thorondor and Liren had been traveing for several days, getting closer and closer to the Shadowhand fortress as the days went by. They had taken barely any breaks since they set out for their destination, and that decisission finally took a toll two weeks later.

"I'm tired", said Liren. "We've been walking for two weeks without a break!"

"And we still have two more weeks left", said Theodar.

"At lease there havn't been any Orcs or other Fell Beasts in our area", said Liren.

"Don't get your hopes up", said Theodar. "It seems strange that their havn't been any orcs in the area, especially since we're close to Shadowhand territory. It's almost like someone wants us to arrive at the base".

"Well, we should..." said Liren before she was cut off.

"IT'S A TRAP!" yelled a voice from afar. "GO HOME! IT'S A..." Once the voice silenced, Theodar and Liren sped with their horses as fast as they could through the grey feilds until they came upon a site that no man would want to see- the site of a dead man.

"He has five arrows in his throat and two in his gut", said Theodar. "Someone didn't want his message to get across".

"Or mabey that was the trap", said Liren. "Mabey we should avenge his death".

"No", said Theodar. "Someone would not sacrafice their life so idly just to make sure are mission goes unsuccessfull. We should heed his advice and go home". Theodar then turned around to go home, but he then heard a faint whistling sound behind him and would here no more after that.

[Lief Erikson]

Dagankor started as the dagger skipped off the stone wall beside his head. He raised a weak barrier quickly, protecting himself from any following strikes.

His grip on Imarwyn was gone, but it didn't matter. The generals were rushing her, weapons extended, and she was nigh unconscious.



*That's our characters' cue, Falathion :)*

[Lief Erikson]

Calebial entered the room anxiously, a heavy burden of anxiety on his heart. He was human, a short and slightly thick man, though not fat. His eyes focused upon the men behind the desk the instant he entered, and his body began to quiver slightly, with his fear.

There were two men behind the desk, opposite Calebial. One was dressed in rich, scarlet robes, embroidered in swirling patterns of daisies and lined with gold. He wore a heavy looking golden necklace around his neck, with a ruby at the end of it.

The man beside him was dressed in unadorned black, and wore the expression of someone that was forced near a dung mound. His eyes were cold, and they glittered slightly upon Calebial's entry.

This man's name was Fhorin, and the other one was Peymost.

"I should burn off your feet, Calebial." It was Fhorin that had spoken.

"What's the use in that?" Peymost laughed, as if the statement had been a joke. "This one's too thick to ever learn!"

Peymost laughed jovially again, as beads of sweat appeared on Calebial's brow.

"Councilors," Calebial managed, weakly. He knew there would be no hope in asking them for forgiveness. "Allow me to atone. I'll destroy that company, Councilors."

Peymost laughed all the louder. "Destroy them? As if you could do that- that's a good one! Told you he was thick, Fhorin!"

"I have followers . . ." Calebial stammered.

"You will not waste our men," Fhorin stated, flatly. "At the base of this tower, there is one other corridor, from the one you came in through. Go down this corridor until you reach the end of it. There you will find a cave, and a guard beside a locked door. Tell him I have given you permission to enter, and inside you will find a man that will give you your instructions."

Calebial bowed and left the room hastily. He felt lucky, incredibly lucky. They might have tortured him. Whatever they asked him to do now, it could not be so bad as what he left behind.





Peymost waited until Calebial was well out of earshot before looking up at Fhorin. "He might be too thick for Bearcore's teeth to penetrate."

"I have seen Bearcore's head smash through a stone wall, and I have seen his teeth pierce plated armor," Fhorin said, smiling softly. "The taste of blood will put hunger into his chest, cause him to demand satisfaction."

Peymost, of course, did not question Fhorin's decision to send that worm, Calebial, to feed Bearcore. Calebial had failed to report the progress of a small company, approaching the Shadowhand citadel. A company full of individuals that matched the description of those that foiled Dagankor's earlier plans to capture Enedwaith. And one other man, one they called Malagar. The only one of these enemies that the Shadowhand Ruling Council believed had actually met Vardor, the founder of the Shadowhand.

They had been permitted to get too close to the Shadowhand fortress, and the time had come to put a stop to them. Calebial had been right about the importance of destroying them quickly, but if Dagankor could not do it, there was no chance Calebial could.

Peymost glanced at Fhorin, the more senior of the two, at the Council. "And then he shall find this company?"

"Alone, I doubt that Bearcore could defeat the entire company," Fhorin answered. "First we must send a company of Great Orcs to scatter them. After that, it will be easy for Bearcore to finish them."





Bearcore looked up, as the door to his prison opened. A sliver of light entering his place of dark confinement. He hated the man before he began to see him. He hated him. He hated everything that lived, that breathed. His mind was twisted, even to his knowledge. He hated the Shadowhand Ruling Council, the force that had put life in its limbs, more than any others that lived.

"Hello?" said the man, cautiously, at the entrance of the cave.

Bearcore waited in the dark recesses of the cave, watching his prize.

Perhaps two meals, rather than one? Bearcore wasn't hungry, but his will to destroy consumed him.

The guard knew little of what lay within, and so foolishly had left the door open a few seconds longer than he had to, talking quietly to the other man.

Bearcore was across the room in an instant. He had already tossed the first man into his mouth, and was on to the second. The guardian was a Great Orc, Bearcore noted. His claws slipped past the door, even as the panicked guard used all the strength in the bulging muscles of his ten foot height to slam the magical door closed.

The door's magic stung Bearcore's paw, caused him to withdraw it quickly.

He swallowed the first man, and then licked the Great Orc's blood off of his claws, slowly. Bearcore's belly felt more hollow than before, suddenly. Something had cleared from his mind, a realization of his hunger, that he must eat.

For an instant, something like tears came into Bearcore's eyes. Tears born of the long years of his suffering, tears of hatred for the Shadowhand, for the people that had made it.

Yet he had no choice but to do their will. He sensed that they would release him soon. They never waited long after feeding him to release him, to let him fill his hunger. And again, as always, he would be forced to do their will. How he longed to twist about, to use his steel muscle to obliterate his enemies. Hate consumed him, was all that he was. It gnawed on his insides, waiting tensely to be released. As always, he would do the will of the Shadowhand.





Fhorin looked out of the window of the comfortable room he was in, his eyes searching the horizon, as if seeking his enemies that lingered in the distance. Yet he knew that he would never see him, for they would be gone before they reached his eyes.

[Arat-Falathion]

His sabre sheathed and the dagger consealed, Glimdrell entered the house, his surcoat now turned inside out, wearing the silver coloured side for everyone to see. His presence shone of nobility and wisdom, a cunning weapon indeed in these halls. Behind came Dolais and Hruad, flanked by Aralle, as a woman.

His stride was jentle and noble, nearly floating above the stonefloor. At the end of the entrance hall they came to the stairs. Glimdrell turned to the others and nodded determingly, they could hear the voices of a crowd on the top of these winding steps. Eather this would work, or it would fail tremendously, but it was their only chance now.

"Blood." Glimdrell acknowledged as they came over some drops of blood on the stairway. On the end of the stairs they got their answer.

"I'll kill that woman if I see her again!" a man shouted. He was standing in the stairway, surrounded by people that was tending a wound on his arm. On the floor lay a bloody knife.

Not until Glimdrell stood before them did they notice him, their eyes widening in puzzlement...

[Arat-Falathion]

"Im Celeborn, past Lord of Lórien." Glimdrell lied with a short, curtious bow. "I've come now in these hours of last hope to stop the evil plans that has been plotted in dark chambers for too long."

The wounded wizard looked at the elf in dismay, the others, more easily fooled, looked at the elf in awe.

"With the blessing of the Valar, I now hold powers beyond any mortal man. So be warned, that which I speak shall only be of truth, and know that this truth may be hard receieved, for a curtain of lies have been shut before your eyes."

Confused talk errupted among the crowd, and the face of the shadowhand wizard redenned more with every moment passing, quickly turning crimson.

[Lief Erikson]

Dagankor raised a single hand, summoning a magical blow. With ease, he tossed Glimdrell out of the chamber.

"The blessings of the Valar seem to have lost power of late," he mocked.

Aralle hurtled past into the room, seizing Imarwyn and heaving her upward, into the air. Her wings beat heavily as she pulled back. Glimdrell had his sword out, but the Shadowhand wizard from behind him had dispelled his illusion with a word.

"Liars to the end," Dagankor stated, coldly. "But it will be their end."

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell staggered to his feet, his right hand clutching the hilt of his sabre. The elven assassin looked up at Dagankor with profound hatred and sighed.

"Strangely then, it is..." Glimdrell muttered. "That your words drip like poison from thine mouth. I must ask myself, who is the true liar among us?"

Dagankor laughed mockingly and sent another burst of energy at the elf, clapping the feet away under him. Glimdrell fell to the floor again, barely managing to keep the sabre in his hand. Determingly the elf rose to his feet, slowly, his eyes never leaving Dagankor's.

"Stay down..." the elf heard a voice whisper from the side. Hruad was looking upon Glimdrell in sympathy. Glimdrell only returned a shook of his head and returned his glare at Dagankor, backing out was not a solution.

[Lief Erikson]

Hruad seized the elf by the shoulder and struggled to hold him back. "Glimdrell, no!"

Both of them fell back upon the stairs as a third attack flew from Dagankor's fingers. It struck the wall just above their heads, raining them with dust and shattered rock.

"There is a time to fight and a time to run," Hruad exclaimed.

Aralle swept out of the room, carrying Imarwyn. She laid the woman down gently with the others, and then turned back to the council of enemies.

"People of Enedwaith!" she cried. "Remember me! Remember who I am, and what my race stands for! Remember whom we serve!"

The men facing her were incapable of responding, hardly capable of thinking. They were on Dagankor's side, bound to him firmly. Her words entered their minds, but could not yet be heard.

"We have always served the Valar, followed their lead!" Aralle cried. "Here me- here us now! Dagankor is a liar!"

Dagankor did not hesitate, but immediately struck again.

A shimmer of silver light. It flickered through the air, crackling for a moment as though suspended in time.

Then Aralle was stumbling back, blood pouring from both mouth and nostrils.

Two of the generals jerked violently, as though struck. They blinked, looking at the griffin in mild shock.

Aralle was slumping downward, falling . . .

Her body hit the ground, a gentle thump. Lifeless, already cold. Blood spreading on the flagstones.

[Lief Erikson]

Hruad stared for an instant, horrified.

Dagankor pointed his hand again, and Hruad knew there was not time. He yanked Glimdrell backward, into the cavern. Dolais had already seized Imarwyn and was helping her out of the place, back up the stairs.

Shouts to resist, coming from below.

Hruad held Glimdrell with all his strength, struggling to drag the elf back upward. The elf was too strong for him, slipping free, horror and rage mixed on his handsome face.

"What have your centuries of learning taught you?" Hruad shouted. "Give in, or you'll only cause more of us to die!"

[Arat-Falathion]

"And a honorfull death it should be!" Glimdrell cried, his eyes filled with tears. In the back of his head he heard Dagankor chanting for another spell and Hruad screaming his name, but his conscience did not redeem to it, could not. The loss of Aralle, one of the last Griffins, one of the purest race of good, had perished, died by the ruthless hand of a wizard for no appearant reason. Glimdrells conscience couldn't accept that, and thus, could not accept to flee.

He faced Hruad one last time and whispered: "Run!" Then he turned on Dagankor, their eyes meeting yet again. Dagankors chanting rised in a forcefull crescendo, his hands rising above his head, weaving menacingly, crying out the last words of the spell. Glimdrell was about to charge in, but his feet buckled from underneath him. In the same moment Dagankors spell left his fingertips.

A fireball the size of the doorway itself flew through the air, setting the walls on fire. The elven assassin felt the warmth streek over his back, and heard it blast into the stairs behind him.
"You will not die here!" Hruad screamed, laying half over the elf, his hands firmly holding around Glimdrells feet. "If we die, then Aralle has perished in vain. Give atleast the griffin a honorful death! Now, we must flee!"

[Earniel]

Imarwyn's head cleared again and she shook off Dolais' helping hand. "I'm alright," she said with gritted teeth, "I can walk on my own."

She took her knife that had been left on the staircase after her fight with the wizard-doorkeeper. Its twin lay now beyond her reach, behind Dagankor in the empty council chamber, below the staircase where Aralle lay. Imarwyn's heart grew cold at the thought of the griffin. She gripped her one remaining knife with such force that her knuckles became white. Aralle, friend and travel companion. Aralle was gone now...

A fireball crashing into stairway behind her and Dolais and they heard Hruad's plea for Glimdrell to flee.

"Oh, the stubborn Elf!" Imarwyn cursed.

Dolais turned to go back. "I have to help Hruad. He won't be able to get Glimdrell out. We don't have much time."

Imarwyn nodded. "Tell Glimdrell to think of Iriana," she said as she remembered something. "I'll get horses, there's a stable around the corner," she continued quickly.

"With luck..." She didn't dare to finish the sentence but ran through the entrance hall to the door, her knife clenched in her hand.

[Lief Erikson]

Hruad scrambled to his feet, getting off Glimdrell. Dagankor once again was casually building a spell. The next moment he had thrown it, and a huge disk was spinning toward them.

The elf and man leapt aside and the disk splintered to shards against the stair behind them.

Hruad raised his right hand a little, and then stared at his own chest and left arm. A well of blood was beginning to soak his shirt. The elf also was wounded, but hardly seemed to care. He was moving softly toward Dagankor, keeping his curved scimitar moving in a series of flicks. Nearly useless movements, but enough to keep his opponent guessing. Dagankor's spells also were armed, already, but he dared not attack with them. The elf was fluid and quick, and Dagankor could not afford many misses.

Yet time was on his side. Already he could hear the shouts of other warriors from above. Soldiers rushing to the aid of their leaders, as they realized what was happening within.

"Remember Iriana!" Dolais shouted, from atop the smoldering stairs.

"Remember Aralle," Glimdrell rasped back.

Hruad staggered back toward the stairs, and began to mount the smoldering, melted stone. Dolais wrapped his arm around him and quickly began to aid his ascent.

Hruad glanced back, just in time to see Glimdrell's right arm streak forward in a low line attack. The elf lunged, near flattening himself on the stone floor as he brought his sword up for a strike at Dagankor's groin.

The wizard dodged backward, hurtling a spell at Glimdrell's exposed back. The elf pivoted on his left arm, barely dodging, and a couple of the stone tiles were shattered at the spell's impact.

Then Hruad was up the stairs, away from the scene of the fight. The elf had chosen his lot, and could very well end up losing his life, just as Aralle had. Yet now, they had only to continue fleeing.






Dagnakor followed up to rapidly, on Glimdrell's attack. Too quickly, and the next spell caught Glimdrell in the right shoulder, sending the elf spinning.

The elf hit the floor, but rolled and rose to his feet again.

The military commanders were merely watching. Some were staring at him, while a few looked at the fallen griffin.

Glimdrell smiled, suddenly, as he realized what was happening. He had distracted Dagankor. He was drawing the wizard's full attention, forcing him to lose his grip on the military leaders in the room. And they, at the same time, were recognizing the loss of focus the spell's withdrawal was giving them. Dagankor may have outwitted their company, but Glimdrell's prolonged attack alone was winning the battle for the minds of the leaders.

Dagankor's lips twisted into a snarl, as though he too recognized what was going through the elf's mind.

He threw his spells, all that were gathered.

The elf already was only armed weakly, having been injured twice by the wizard's attacks. He dodged, lining his body up so that only his side was facing Dagankor, rather than his full torso.

Then the spells hit their mark.

He felt something brush past his stomach, and it was gone. Something else smashed into his right hand, obliterating it. A third spell smashed into his thigh, driving him backward, howling in pain.

Dagankor whipped his Morgul sword from its sheath, and advanced on the elf.

"Stop!"

Glimdrell hardly could see, hardly could think for the agony. He could feel nothing in his right leg. His right hand was gone. The pain boiled his blood.

People were talking loudly, overhead. The generals had moved over to Dagankor and were talking with him.

Everything faded.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren awoke in a cold sweat. "Malagar" he whispered hoarsely.
Malagar sat up slowly, "Elise" whispered Fimbren.
She sat up as well.
"Come with me for a moment" the elf said. They followed him into a grove of trees.
Fimren surveyed them far a moment with his piercing grey eyes. "I need to know what we are to be doing, we have neither seen nor heard anything for days. I know the others have found the Shadowhand, but I know nothing more of that. But what are WE doing. Can we simply, with a slow pace, go nowhere?"

[Lief Erikson]

Iron gates swung aside, before Bearcore's vision. The metal bars slid back into the recesses at the back of the cave, and Bearcore plunged out into the darkness.

He felt slippery cavern floor under his feet, cool rocks underfoot. Around him, all was night, hollow, hungry.

Bearcore dodged boulders and maneuvered perfectly through the twists and turns of the cavern. He was approaching the top, felt his masters in his head, directing him.

He hated his enemies. Who his enemies were, he now did not know, but soon they would be before his eyes.

A sliver of light appeared before his eyes, and then he was out. Racing in the open sunlight. He snatched and consumed a couple Great Orcs, casually, on his way. The creatures and monstrous wargs were scattering in his path.

The trees of a forest were ahead of him. Then Bearcore had plunged inside, ever running, closing on his prey.

[Arat-Falathion]

Iriana's eyes popped open suddenly, feeling a surge of adrenalin through her vains. The song had come to her mind in a dream, stronger than she had ever heard it before. She was standing before she even noticed her movements, and searched the camp. Quickly she found Elise, Malagar and Fimbren missing, Tareod was the only one still sleeping. The song built up stronger, its forte rising into a powerfull crescendo. But the song wasn't tormenting her mind, it was honing it, bringing it forth to its full consentration. She produced her sword, not taking her eyes away from the glooming boarders of the camp. She could not yell for the lost comrades, who knew what was out there...

[Lief Erikson]

"You might well say it is nowhere," Mal said, softly. "The Shadowhand Castle is nearby, but we are tracked. Our enemies may have guessed our destination, already."

Fimbren nodded, and continued to look at Mal. "Then what shall we do?"

Mal did not answer, immediately. A few seconds later, he glanced at the trees ahead and answered. "You shall not find yourselves pursued. Soon, I shall leave this fellowship."

Elise didn't respond to this, but Fimbren was surprised. "You are our leader."

"The time is swift coming when our enemies will decide to take action against us," Mal told him. "I am your leader, as you say, and believe this is the best course of action."

Fimbren did not answer, but turned his head up, toward the wood. "Iriana feels it too," he said, softly.

The other two did not speak.

He looked back at them, his eyes fierce. "Orcs!"

"Do not fight them," Mal said, immediately. "Come with me."

"What of Tareod and Iriana?" Elise asked.

Mal glanced back at her, the darkness hiding his face in shadow. "Leave them."






Iriana quickly perceived that she and Tareod were the only two inside the glade. Stars sang above the glade, heightening her senses. Normally they filled her with joy, but now they warned her of what was to come.

She touched Tareod's shoulder, softly. "Our enemies are upon us."

He rose immediately, loosening his sword in its scabbard.

Iriana flashed through a couple drills, her sword slicing the still air. Then, she focused inward, preparing herself.

Mal

He was not here. Neither were the others. She and the Rohirrim were abandoned.

Tareod laid his hand on his sword hilt and gently eased it from its scabbard. Almost casually, and then they waited together, in silence.

The trees opposite them were dense with shadow. Implacable tree trunks, covered with rough bark. Wind gently stirred the leaves of bushes that surrounded the glade. Then the starlight playing on the grass faded, and involuntarily, Iriana glanced up at the sky overhead.

Clouds were crossing the sky, enveloping them in the thickening night.

A footstep sounded, ahead, in the undergrowth. Another, and then more. Softly moving. Shapes of deeper shadow emerging from the dark.

Then a light touched Iriana's eyes, a red light gradually flowing into the glade from the attackers.

It lit the glade, revealing twenty of the monstrous Great Orcs. Mounted upon their elephantine wargs, they were each about thirty feet high. Moving forward, raising their drawn swords.

Steam hissed from their mouths, vapor flowing into the night.

A voice broke the silence, one of the orcs speaking in its guttural tongue. "Kill them."


Monsters were leaping from the red light, massive shapes of bound muscle and sinew. Stretched full length, the beasts heaved forward.

Iriana leapt high into the air, seizing hold of fur and snapping off her first blow. White sparks splintered through the air. Her blade was behind her, before her, every side, her body slithering over and off the warg's back, her feet touching the ground . . . she was running and had mounted the next warg, dodging, ever one step ahead of her enemies, leaping from creature to creature, her blade a flurry in the night. The might of her enemies was invincible, and as yet she had gained no hits. A single blow would snap her slender elven blade and bring her down, but she could not let that happen.

A moment later, she got a glimpse of Tareod, who had managed to bring his blade up under the jaw of one warg. Luckily, the weapon seemed to have hit something vital, and the creature was stumbling. Tareod disappeared under a mountain of fur and muscled flesh.

Iriana swept her sword upward in an overhead parry 5, but then dodged out of the way, allowing her enemy to cleave into another warg.

The titans bellowed and hit the earth, a mound of armor and scrambling claws and legs.

Three wargs down for the moment, but there were seventeen left.

The blade devoured the air where her neck had been an instant before, and she brought her blade up in a quick change of line, the tip piercing the warg's armor and torso.

It kicked and swung with its fist, lightly clipping the side of her head.

Iriana spun in the air and hit the ground in a roll, getting up. A massive bruise was rising on her head, but she knew she was lucky to have come out of this with only that, so far. This was a battle she doubted they could win.