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Old 03-06-2002, 12:54 PM   #1
Gilthalion
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Join Date: Jan 2001
Location: South Farthing
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Silmaril MIRKWOOD RPG

Legolas Greenleaf dropped lightly to the forest floor behind the Men from the East. He had been watching them with his keen elvish eyes almost from the time they entered Greenwood the Great, defiling its pristine paths with their iron shod feet. The handsome wood elf did not look it, but he was more than four thousand years old, and still did not call the forest Mirkwood at first thought. But here was a token of why none called it Greenwood any longer and his heart burned within him to see them.

What were they doing here, and why did they dare to enter the Woodland Realm, where Thranduil, his father, was king? They were not hunting, for they heedlessly tramped along toward the mountains at the heart of the forest without a thought of how their noise broke the peace of the woods. They seemed to be soldiers, so perhaps they were under orders. The tall elf was determined to find out. He motioned for hidden eyes to the right and to the left of the eastern soldiers.

Less than a minute later the sound of a grey owl came to his ears. The soldiers paid no heed, for how could they know that there were no grey owls in this region of Mirkwood, and that they would not make a noise during the day in any event? But Legolas was waiting to hear just such a bird. He stood to his full height and cried out for the soldiers to halt.

They turned quickly about in surprise and anger to see a prince of the Woodland Realm standing alone on the path behind them. His long golden hair fell behind his broad shoulders and his dark eyes looked upon the eastern troops with a cool regard. In his fine hands was a bow crafted by Silvan artisans and an arrow was nocked to its string of elven hair.

"You trespass in Thranduil's realm," said Legolas. "You will be taken to him for judgement. If you resist you will be slain. If you are innocent, then you will be freed on the borders of this realm, with the sentence of death should you return. Drop your weapons and you may live."

A big hairy man with a great scar across his face looked upon the lone elf and mocked him with his vulgar laughter. The big man drew a knife from his belt as swift as a stricking snake and hurled it straight at Legolas. The wood elf shot it from the air with his first arrow and his second one struck the man through his throat, choking off his rude mocking laugh.

This enraged the dozen men who followed him, and they cried aloud in their barbarous tongue, raising their shields and rushing the elf who slew their leader. Not even Legolas Greenleaf could have withstood them alone. But he was not alone. Greenclad elves stepped forth with drawn bows and in such numbers that the men were dismayed and realized that there would be no escape. More than half of them decided to charge Legolas anyway, hoping desperately to slay him or push past him and return the way they came. All nine of them were slain before their third step, their bodies pierced with many arrows.

The rest dropped their weapons and were bound with tight ropes. Legolas commanded that they be blindfolded and taken to Thranduil for questioning. He called for volunteers...
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