Swan Wood - RPG

[Taralphiel]

... Taralphiels eyes went dark, and a low snarl escaped her throat that took the others off guard. She let out a string of words in the Olden tongue

'A Eldar...dagor..' and she dove for her sword. The Elves shot their gaze around, and Radhchamion leapt forward to the throne.

Annunfuin asked Laurel what she had said. Laurel muttered 'One word good sir...war'

~*~

The Wild King gazed over the great plain with pleasure. With a swift hand movement, his troops ran down to the village like a rush of water. He then motioned to an archer who shot a single lit arrow into the now inky darkness. With that his second army would attack the forest.

'Good' he purred 'War!'

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Cartil heard Laurel’s muttered reply to Annunfuin. He drew his sword at this, ready for whatever would come next. The group edged towards the Swan Lady, clumping together in a single group. Footfalls could be heard, like thunderous booms ringing throughout the silenced group. Thagon took a step forward, listening intently.

“We cannot leave the children without protection,” said he. At that, Rudhchamion, Ohtaredan, and Herebrand darted off down the hall, and Cartil assumed he was off to act on Thagon’s words.

Cartil continued to edge backward, step-by-step. He was a bit nervous, for diplomacy was where his greater talents were. But sometimes, there is no room for diplomacy. Backing towards a column just left of where the Swan Lady was being protected. He bumped into one of the maids of the Swan House as he took his careful, nervous steps.

“Oh, forgive me, lady,” Cartil apologized hurriedly. He spread out his arms, hoping to protect the woman from whatever was raiding the Swan House. “We need to be careful, they are coming!”

As Cartil finished his whispered warning, arrows began to whistle through the windows of the chamber and door. Shouts and calls from the hallway became fully audible, and the former mumblings that had been heard became full-blown war cries. Cartil grimaced, and tried, but failed, to mentally count the many different voices he heard. Cartil lifted his sword, and spoke to the lady he had bumped into.

“Miss, perhaps you should run, and not look back. This will most likely get…ugly,” Cartil murmured, watching as darts and arrows flew past his viewpoint. He waited for his chance to dart forward and do something, like a child who waits for the right moment to hop into the rhythm of a jump rope.

Cartil had been so caught up with timing, that he hadn’t even noticed the woman he was trying to protect and help escape draw a dagger. Without warning, a great shout erupted from the mouth of the woman, and pressed against Cartil’s neck was the drawn, slender dagger. Another was pressed against his stomach, pressing hard.

“Drop the sword,” ordered the woman shortly. At first, Cartil resisted and stood silently and still. The woman seemed prepared for this, however, and simply pressed her daggers closer to Cartil’s neck and stomach. Blood trickled from a cut in his neck. After that, Cartil obeyed and his sword clattered to the ground.

~*~

Jess had just finished shooing a few other children home, and then went back over to a skittish Sparrow. She lit a torch to brighten the gloom that had settled over Alphirion with the night. The chill wind ruffled Jess’ rumpled black hair in passing, and one slightly stronger gust of wind would send Sparrow into a whinnying fit.

A little while later, Lanaey came galloping up on Drass to where Jesslyn stood, and dismounted quickly with all the usual Elven grace. She seemed refreshed somehow, as if a great weight had been lifted from her fragile shoulders. Drass and Sparrow grunted and neighed at each other, and then Sparrow turned away from Drass, backside towards Lanaey’s good horse. Lanaey opened her mouth to say something, but Jess suddenly became wide-eyed and pointed to one slightly hilly edge of Alphirion. Though black as the ebony night, movements and shapes could be easily seen through the trees.

“Wild men!” Jess cried simply.

As if they had heard Jesslyn speak, a tremendous roar became terribly audible to the two women, a great cry let out through the wave of riffraff warriors. Arrows spiraled down into the city, wailing and whistling as they either snapped silently to the ground or twirled into the roof or door of a home.

“The people! We have to get them out of here!” spoke Lanaey hurriedly. Jess nodded, and became terribly aware of her inability to stay calm under pressure.

“But everyone is practically asleep by now!” wailed Jess, trying to stay strong but ultimately failing horribly. “Where in Middle-Earth is everyone else? We have to save everyone! Eru, where are the other travelers?”

When Jess’ voice faltered, the archers of the Wild men began to use fire on the tips of their arrows.

[ May 30, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Kryssal]

"Quickly, ride by the houses and wake the people." Lanaey turned and got her bow off of Drass as quickly as she could. While she was stringing it an arrow sped by her to barely miss a dodging Jess. Locking Jess with a quick look, the young human took heart, jumped on her horse and darted off toward the nearest house with a high pitched yell calling out attack.

Nocking her bow, Lanaey took defense behind a mid-sized tree that left her slightly exposed. With a few clicks of her tongue she sent Drass into hiding, who quickly went behind the nearest building. Turning to the side of the tree to face the invaders, the Elf quickly took aim and let her arrow fly. Without waiting to see if her aim had been true, she swiveled back into a protected position and grabbed another arrow.

She could hear the village coming around and hoped that the people wouldn't be rash and run right into the invaders arrows. Of course, the brigands wouldn't use bows soon; they were riding past the edges of the village.

Glancing around the tree Lanaey spotted two riders that were practically touching each other as they charged forward. She took careful aim and released. She didn't stay exposed to watch like the time before, but she heard her success this time. The horse on the left neighed sharply and collided into the other, knocking both riders to the ground. Lanaey felt a twang of guilt for hitting the innocent horse, but this fight was one she wasn't prepared to lose.

Giving a shrill whistle Lanaey let loose one more arrow then stepped away from the tree as Drass came galloping up. Drass didn't slow down in passing. Lanaey took two quick steps, grabbed the pomel with precise timing and swung up. Locking her bow into it's emergency holding strap she unsheathed her sword and started toward a side opponent.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw others, villagers and warriors who had come out and were fighting. Grinning at their bravery on the inside, Lanaey swung at the wild man who had tried to impale her at their first passing, and had failed. Yelling a wordless cry she leaned low in the saddle to avoid another slighlty clumsy blow and felt her sword slide cleanly into the mans gut. Wrenching her sword free Lanaey turned Drass around once again to find the next closest invader.

~*~

There were so many dead! Leena had killed three more wild men so far, but had seen at least twenty fallen villagers and five dead Rohirrim fighters.

Currently she was chasing down a fleeing invader who she had seen kill a child. The memory flashed behind her eyes, stealing from her concentration as it played out once again in her mind.

- A young child, no more than six summers old, running out from his hiding place to hold his just killed father. The wild man laughing as the boy cried and tripped when he finally reached the dead villager. The small boy hugging his fathers middle, tears still flowing unendingly. The brigand picking the tiny form up sneering, “Want to see him again?”

Not waiting for the child to answer he snapps the young ones neck and drops him like a maiden would a soiled cloth. -

Leena had been dispatching another killer when she saw the bits and pieces unfold from across the road. Giving a terrifying yell she ran to the boy. The wild man had heard her cry, saw her eyes, saw her coming towards him and he ran, dropping his sword as he turned to flee. Pausing to touch the boy’s still warm cheek and to mutter a quick word of prayer, Leena had gathered her fading strength and started in on the chase that led out of the town and through the forest. She wasn’t paying attention to the land as it passed by her in blurs, her only focus was on the weaving figure before her.

This one will die of his own poison, but not before I gut him.

Seeing her prey falter slightly up ahead she put on a burst of speed and stumbled on a bit of her dress as it caught beneath her again. Cursing yet again she kept up the pace and was soon on the man, tackling him from behind with a dagger leading the attack.

Crying out as he fell, the man started to beg for his life. “Ple..please. I didn’t..I’m….I don’t even have a weapon!” The figure was pitiful, writhing on the forest floor trying to back away from the advancing priestess.

Leena’s face screwed up in revulsion. She took her sword and thrust it into his belly, then took out one of the stolen darts as he screamed and spit up blood. Kneeling down she embedded it into his chest, right above the heart, much like when someone hits a table with their fist.

“Now you have two.”

[ August 03, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Manardariel]

Wild girl. Wild, mad girl that eates raw meat. Wild girl. Wild, bad girl. Wild girl. Wild girl The words rang in Fiona´s ears. She felt like killing someone, or like crying. Was she really wild? Wild and mad and as scary as hell? Maybe Porridge thought so too. Or why was he playing with Elena now, instead of her? Fiona felt her eyes filling. How could he have done this to her? They´d been best friends, and then that girl had shown up. Elena with her little doll and her neat braids. Elena, who never ripped her clothes, and who was never slapped by Rian. Elena, who was said sorry when there wasn´t a cake. Elena, with those clean hands and big, frightened eyes. Elena who hated her. Fiona had always thought she just was scared, but by now she was sure Elena hated her. Fiona felt rage rise in her. How dare she? Come here and steal her sister, then her friend. Maybe she´ll steal Hurin next, or Shadow!

Fuming with anger, she walked over to the well. Maybe she could rip her doll´s hair out, or cut her braids off while she was asleep. Or she could make a big stain on her dress. Yes, that would be it! Elena would be in deep trouble, and Fiona would wear a clean dress, and everyone would say "Look at Fiona. Her dress isn´t stained and dirty." And then she´d know what it feels like, and she´d leave, and let us alone!

"Fiona! Get out of there, quick!" Someone yelled. Fiona couldn´t quite determine who it was, maybe her brother Aragorn? But, no, Aragorn´s voice was never so exited so full of panik. Fiona shrugged and turned around. Suddenly she saw a dark, hooded, ENORMOUS figure run at her. What was that? The figure came closer. Fiona broke into a run, her little feet barely touching the ground. Away, only away! She turned around a corner, spotting Elena talking to her doll.

"Miss Priss, get your braids OUT OF HERE!!!!" she yelled. Elena turned around, perplex, taken a back. She shrieked and started to run. But it was too late. Another of those creatures -were they people?- scopped both of them up. Fiona yelled, bit, kicked- but it was totally useless. He just laughed and held them tighter.

"Elena?" Fiona poked Miss Priss in the side. "Don´t you dare cry. We´ve GOT to find a way to get away!"

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

"Out! Now! Evacuate! The Wild Men are surrounding Alphirion!" Jesslyn cried in her loudest voice, and rapped on any door she could reach as Sparrow sent the girl racing down the cobbled streets. People began to file out at her call, and children whined and rubbed their sleepy eyes while angry parents groaned.

"Any young children and elderly must evacuate now!" Jess ordered. Horrified children shook their heads until older, wiser women and men ushered the children towards a safe haven as they saw fit. There remained a large population of teenagers, young adults, and middle-aged people, men and women. A few of them were even younger then Jess, the way it looked.

"You need to find weapons now, and defend your homes. Five or six trained warriors would not stand a chance against such a band of barbarians. I hate to get you all involved but..."

"We're already involved," a boy a little older than Jess spoke up from the crowd. "This is our home, not yours. We can't stand around and leave it to burn."

"I'm terrified," whispered a girl from beside the boy, her voice barely audible to begin with, yet it echoed through the group. The boy's steady hand was placed on her frail shoulder.

"Weapons," murmured Jesslyn Stone absently. Young men ran from their spots, returning quickly with two or three weapons in hand. Satisfied, Jess shook her head in momentary sorrow for the young in the group, who probably should have left with the even younger children.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a horrendous chant, war cries simultaneously shouted. The villagers went to work defending their home. They fought with a bravery and pride that Jesslyn had once thought was sadly lacking in the run-down Dor-en-Ernil area.

Jesslyn joined in on their fight as well, after all, that was why she was there. Jesslyn had, by that time, shooed the skittish Sparrow away and drawn her sword. Towards the middle of Alphirion there were very few or no barbaric intruders, but as Jess neared the edges of the village, more and more Wild Men had to be dealt with or entirely avoided.

[ June 01, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel looked around wildly at the group left to guard her grandmother. Letting out a growl 'Cartil!!' The Wild Men were now running rampant through the House, ransacking and executing as they went. A huddle of Maidens, and old woman and a few soldiers were all left in the back room. But that did not last long as a group of 5 or so stormed in.

Laurel leapt forward with a heaving cry. Locking swords with the first Wild soldier, she knocked him soundly in the knee to unnerve him, then ran him through with the cold ring of her sword. Lashing out again, she moved from that soldier to the next, fghting with a wild sort of glee. Taralphiel watched with eyes of stone.

Laurel removed a hidden dagger and threw it into the neck of another soldier, then swftly turning and catching another off guard, and planting her sword in his gut. Soon the other soldiers were in the fray, and all were downed.

Panting heavily, Laurel raced for the hallway where the Rohirrim had gone with a roar. 'Laurel!' cried Taralphiel. Laurel turned and saw her point down the smaller garden pathway. Laurel nodded, and moved down slowly.

Searching for some sign of life, a scent of sound, she did not have to wait long. A hissing female voice ran through the dank cold. Gritting her teeth, she threw away her caution. With a blood-curdling scream she crashed through the trees...

[maikafanawen]

Gita pressed the daggers against her prisoner and waited until his sword clanked to the floor.

“Good,” she whispered. “Now what to do with you?” Wild men where filing into the hall, fighting as they went, without mercy slaying any of the house. Gita whistled and they turned towards her. “Taralphiel,” she said, “is that way.” She pointed towards the doors just before her. They grinned and moved towards the hall, weapons raised. “Don’t kill her you fools!” she spat. “The king will be wanting her.”

Then the memory of the Swan Lady Cuor fancied crossed her mind. Where was she? She gestured to two of the men to grab each of Cartil’s arms and hold him firmly.

“Don’t let him go! Take him to the king!” With that she dissolved back into the shadows of the house, moving as quickly as she could along the walls, searching for Cuor’s prize.

* * *

Annanoldowen heard the men shortly after Taralphiel. She reached down for her sword only to remember she had left it in her room. Silent as a wraith, she left the hall and disappeared up to her room. The wild men had only swarmed in upon the first floor and the upstairs were still clear. She buckled on her sword and went to help Rudhchamion, Ohtaredan, and Herebrand protect the children.

On her way she caught sight of a slender she-figure sliding through the shadows, a terrible look on her face. Sheathing her sword, Annanoldowen followed, her elf feet making no noise on the cool marble. The first ray of sunlight that broke through to reveal the woman she followed showed her to be a maid of the swan house—or by the way she was moving and looking, and imposter.

There was barely anything Annanoldowen could do when Laurel came rushing down the hall and the opposite end. The woman leapt to the side, a slender dagger suddenly in her hand. The elf sprinted towards her and with a silent slice of her sword, knocked the weapon from her hand and grabbed her around the neck, threatening her with her blade. The woman was stronger though than Annanoldwen and struggled fiercely. Laurel was almost upon them by the time she got free. She sank her fist violently into Annanoldowen’s stomach and wrenched out of her grasp and back into the shadows down the hall, slipping out of view.

“Who was it?” demanded Laurel, she was sweating freely, a look of anger upon her face.

“An imposter. Come, the children—” Annanoldowen held her sword again before her and followed Laurel, who crossed in front of her, back again towards the wild men.

* * *

Gita ran until she was out of sight of the elf lady and ... the Swan Lady. So, she thought, massaging the place where the elf had grabbed her. That’s what Cuor wants. Grinning wickedly, she made her way out of the house. Drawing a second dagger from her guise, she crept around the side of the house to the front. The guards had been killed and wild men were entering freely.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"Miss Priss, get your braids OUT OF HERE!!!!"
Elena started at the sound of Fiona's voice. She really sounded wild. She wanted Elena to leave. Elena turned slowly, tears pricking at the back of her eyes. Fiona was being carried by some sort of monster. A huge, black, ugly monster. Elena screamed.

She barely felt as she was picked up by another monster as she just stared at Fiona in shock.
"Don´t you dare cry. We´ve GOT to find a way to get away!"
Elena gulped. Strangely enough the prickle had disappeared. Her shock seemed to be too strong to let her cry.
The monster began to laugh at Fiona, Elena could feel the shaking as he carried her along.
"Fiona" she whispered "I'm scared. How will we get out?"
Fiona gazed back with fierce eyes.
"We'll think of something"

Suddenly Elena was glad she had the wild girl with her. She would probably be good at thinking of ways to escape.
Without warning the monsters dumped Fiona and Elena on the ground. They seemed to be in some sort of camp of monsters, only there were men erally. Elena could see from others who were not covered like these two. The two men pushed them into a tent, then sat down outside the door.
"Get away from that" one of them said, then they began to laugh.

Fiona immediately began to talk as Elena looked around the tent.
"Right. We need to-"
Elena spotted a huddled bundle in a corner. As she walked over, it turned a tear stained face to her.
"Rian?" Elena asked.
The face just burst into noisy sobs.
Elena began to talk excitedly.
"Rian, you can help us to get out, Fiona look! Rian's here! We'll be fine, she's big..."
Her voice trailed off. Rian was just sitting there, rocking back and forth. Fiona came and looked over Elena's shoulder.

"I don't think she will help much" she said, witha small smile at Elena. Elena tried to smile back, then was surprised at herself when it worked.
"What- what sort of a plan?" she asked slowly.

[Manardariel]

Fiona studied her sister in disgust. Honestly, she was the only grown up here, and accting like a big, fat crybaby. It seemed Fiona was alone in the middle of danfer, as a help only Elena, who -supris, suprise!- wasn´t crying but had, in fact, just smiled at her.

"What- what sort of a plan?" Elena asked.

Fiona started chewing her lip for a moment. She needed to think of something brilliant, something to get them out of danger, and to prove to Rian she wasn´t only mad and wild. Mad girl... mad girl, that was an idea.

"Ok. What we do is... can you make yourself throw up?" Elena shook her head, horrifried. "Good, then I´ll do that. So, I throw up on you, and you start sreaming and yelling. They come in, and I yell and scream some nonsense. Something like 'You have murdered the son of the Heavens! You will DIE!!' They´ll be really freaked, and ask you what´s up with me. You say I´m a madgirl, and that you´re very scared of me. Say my father -make sure they hear his name, Sir Rindal, yes?- keeps me in the attic and never lets me eat, and that I´m REALLY crazy! They´ll look at me, and while they do so, you and Rian run for it. I´ll scream some more, then I´ll throw up on them, and they´ll be so freaked out I can run without them following me. What do you think?"

Fiona was more then pleased with herself. This plan was brilliant, it couldn´t fail. How ironic, though. To show Rian -and Elena- she wasn´t a stupid "madgirl", she had to pretend to be one. Well, whatever it took to get them out of here.

[ June 02, 2003: Message edited by: Manardariel ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Elena listened in wonderment to Fiona's plan. It sounded very clever. It also sounded...funny. She tried to stop a grin, but couldn't. Then a giggle burst through, sounding like snort. Fiona looked at her in confusion. Elena couldn't stop imagining Fiona being sick on the monsters. It would be horrible, but still funny. She strted laughing and laughing.

Fiona looked at her in surprise for a while, then began to giggle too. The two girls kept on for a few minutes. After they had both stopped, Elena tried to look seriously at Fiona, and kind of succeeded.
"I don't want to run away and leave you here" she whispered, darting a glance at the front of the tent.
"We have to do this plan" Fiona whispered back fiercely.
Thoughtfully Elena nodded, then reached over and squeezed Fiona's hand. Both girls looked astonished.

"Go on then" Elena whispered regretfully. Her dress was already crumpled and torn but now she would have Fiona's sick on it too. Suddenly it seemed less funny. She closed her eyes until she heard a retching noise. With a small shudder she began to scream.

The guard rushed in.
"QUIET!" he roared. Elena kept screaming. e walked towards her.
"It's the mad girl! Help!" she said, voice shaking. She sounded scared enough, although it was of the guard not Fiona.
Then Fiona began to shriek.
"Murder! You have murdered the sons of Heaven. All will die. All will die!"

It was spooky. Elena shivered. She turned to the guard again.
"Please, her father- Sir Rindal- he doesn't let her out of her room! She's dangerous! You can't keep us here with her."
Another guard ran in. Fiona was still babbling wildly. The two guards began to talk together. Elena's head was spinning. The guards went towards Fiona. She saw that now was the time to go. She turned around. Rian had gone back into the corner.
Oh no!

"Rian!" she whispered urgently. Any minute the guards would stop looking at Fiona. Any minute! Rian ignored her. Desperately Elena ran over and tugged at her arm. Rian moaned. It was too loud! They would hear!

Quickly Elena put her hand over Rian's mouth. Then she pulled her to her feet and began to run.

Fiona I hope you'll be safe she thought guiltily as they sped away. At least Ran was running on her own now. She had got ahead of Elena. In fact, Elena couldn't see her anymore. She looked around, but Rian was behind her. Elena had reached the edge of the camp and was near the trees. Rian had sat down between two tents, and Elena could see monsters- men- moving around.

I can't leave her! she thought desperately. I'll have to go back.
Gathering her courage, Elena turned and headed towards Rian.

"Hey!"
One of the monsters was pointing at them. Elena ran faster than she ever had before and pulled Rian's arm again. Slowly the older girl got up. She wouldn't run. Elena had to push her. She was crying now, as hard as she had laughed before.

"Rian please! Please" she begged over and over. Rian just looked at her blankly. they had made it back to the trees. After only a few minutes, Elena could go no further. She slumped down by a tree, then crawled into a patch of bushes, not even checking if Rian followed. They weren't far from the camp. Hopefully Fiona would find them. Most likely the men would. Elena no longer had the energy to care.

[ June 02, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[Manardariel]

Fiona took I deep breath. Ok, this is my last chanche! She screeched "DOOOOM!! DEATH!!" and belched, spraying vomit all over the attakers. The men sprang away in disgust.

"Yuck! What in all heavens...? This kid is crazy!" One of them shook his head and left the tent. Fioba held her breath- the others followed! And they hadn´t even noticed Elena and Rian were gone! As soon as he last pair of feet had made it´s way out of there she RAN. Nobody seemed to notice, or to care, and with shock, Fiona noticed the reason were Elena and Rian!

No! Damn! She slowed down and crept nearer. Elena was leaning against a tree, trying to be brave, while Rian was just standing there, motionless- like she´d been turned into stone.

Fiona started to wave at Elena. Behind you! RUN! Elena just shook her head, panicing. I´m sorry, Fiona, but I can´t. The look seemed to tell her. Angrily, Fiona drew herself up. There was no such word as "can´t" in her vocabulary. Had she gone through all this for nothing? Head spinning, the girl picked up a stick and ran towards the group.

"I shall avenge the Son of the Sky! I shall murder those who slaughtered him! You shall die!" she yelled, pretending to attak Rian with the stick.

Elena looked perplex, watching the other girl "hit" her sister. "Slaughterer! Beast!" Rian stared; Fiona winked. She started on Elena. "You have killed him!" Fiona broke into a run, still yelling and hitting the girls. Clearly, no one dared to come near her, and while she was there, no one could harm the others.

"Into the woods!" she wispered. "Quick!"

[Taralphiel]

Laurel sprinted back into the halls with another yell, and leapt towards another fray. The imposter that had attacked Cartil had fled, but now was not the time to persue her. The orphans of Swan Wood were cornered by the Wild Men it sounded, and she had to aid them.

Laurel cut through one Wild Man from behind, and barely had time to remove her sword before another engaged her. A fluent series of kicks stopped him, before she was able to send him to Mandos.

The fighting went long down the hallway, with Laurel and the graceful Elf at her side. She was much more precise and graceful in her movements, but Laurel had no time to wonder at it. Eventually Laurel met the dark Elf Rudhchamion, and the Rohirrim. They were protecting most of the maids and children, who had sought refuge in the kitchen. Rudhchamion had downed many with his sword and the occasional arrow, and Ohtaredan and Herebrand were also fighting wildly.

Laurel moved in front of them and lashed out at the crowd of Wild Men. Slowly the group made gains on the oncoming horde. Laurels hands dripped with blood, and the halls stank, and this infuritaed her more. One by one the Wild Men fell. In a moment of weakness a sword razed her shoulder, and almost knocked her to the ground. Screaming out in pain, her sword rasn through the mans throat, cutting his conquest short. She fought on, though slow and cumbersome were her movements. She felt the warm slip of blood under her clothes. But she was too livid to stop fighting...

[Burzdol]

Ilist Scorn saw Laurel from the other side of the Wild Men. She was hacking and kicking. Soon he called a loud order, "Men, charge!"

The Rohirrm pushed into the Wild Men, slaying as many as possible. Some of the less expirenced fell as the enemy used unusual tactics. Ilist ran towards a leading man and threw a knife threw his heart. As he ran to get the weapon, a man ran towards the children. He heard the scream as one of the was pierceds by a deadly blade. He drew his bow, and shot throgh the man's head. The man then ran back to the children. Soon he had no choice but call a retreat and defence, "Men, fall back and defend!"

The fighting continued, and slayings piled up. The Rohirrm, was losing.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Cartil struggled as two burly, huge men carried him away from the strong house. Cartil struggled a lot, actually, hoping to delay the unimaginably large and...positively smelly men. It held no sway over the strong Wild Men, and they merely chuckled at Cartil's weakness. They practically dragged the Gondorian diplomat through the woods, for Cartil had refused to walk if it would make the men's job any easier.

When Cartil was finally dragged into a clearing, he could tell it was some sort of makeshift camp. It was mostly empty, however, and Cartil began to doubt whether all of the camp's inhabitants had gone to the Swan Lady's house. Cartil groaned at this thought, and the image of his immature, arrogant sister slain by a horrible barbarian.

"Where d'you think we should put 'im?" grumbled one of the men, whose long beard still had tiny, off-white-yellow beads of ale weaved into it.

"Well, Gita said we should take 'im to the King!" answered the other man, who shoved his partner-in-crime for his stupidity, while Cartil rolled his eyes at the stupidity of both the men.

How can an entire army of these stupid, uneducated men be able to defeat the lands of Dor-en-Ernil? Cartil asked himself, and decided it was a fair and logical quiestion if his two captors were any example.

"Well, I don't think the King is 'ere right now, d'you?" The first man retorted, apparently thinking he was quite smart and witty in his response.

"Then let's put 'im in the King's tent, fool! Either way, the King'll find 'im and do what he will with this...thing," the second one said, and the two finally stopped bickering as they dragged Cartil to a tall tent at the end of a messy lane in disrepair.

Cartil was thrown into a tent, and it was so dark that the messenger of Gondor was oblivious as to whether or not anyone else was in the room. He looked around, and the first thing he laid his tired, hazel eyes on were feathered darts spilling out of a pack nearby. The feathers were black and the tips were covered in some sort of yellow, loquid substance.

"Eru help them," Cartil muttered, thinking of the inhabitants - and protectors - of Alphirion and the home of the Swan Lady. He let his voice ring clear, loud, and pure, alerting anyone who might be in the tent that they had a visitor.

[Kryssal]

Drass was walking to the edges of the village to hide from the invaders and their darts. She was a smart horse and could take care of herself if need be.

Most of the invaders were in sporatic fights with the villagers who had been joined by the Rohirrim that Lanaey had rode in with. With those fighters taking out most of the main force, or so Lanaey assumed they would, she went out in search of those hiding. They didn't look like they were going to leave easily and Lanaey was now on the search through the village for any of the filth hiding behind powerless women or taking hostages. The Elf stalked through the houses, checking every room. Silence was her most often greeted guest, though she came accross some whimpers when occupants were found. She told most to stay where they were and to lock all their doors, if they hadn't done so yet, which many people hadn't. Many of the humans who had stayed in their homes were waiting for their men to come back and didn't want to shut them out. Giving assurances to the terrified or waiting villagers, Lanaey continued on finding neither attackers nor casualties.

A step creaked under her slight touch and Lanaey quickly lifted her foot off of the spot, listening for a sign that someone had heard her. After several moments of nothing but wind finding her ears, she continued up to the second floor of a large building near the outskirts of town.

Lanaey had checked three rooms with five left to go. Coming up to the next door on the right, the Elf readied herself once again, bringing up her choice of weapon. The two long knives looked dull in the absence of bright light, but their edges would still cut through a solid wood door if a need called for it. There was only stillness in the room she faced, yet she continued on. Half of the room was available to her eyes and there were signs of recent activites, a turned over table and broken chair. . .

Lanaey staggered forward from the blow almost losing her balance. Someone behind the door had slammed it into her back as she entered the room and with the force it had sent her careening off of the wall. Spinning around she brought her knives to the fore, hitting part of the door and barely missing one of her attackers. Two of the brigands had decided to hide out in until a would be village savior had come along, and Lanaey was just that person.

One of the men had quickly gone to the other side of the room, planning on catching her in a double front assult. Stepping back slightly, Lanaey unfocused her vision so that she could see the overall movements of both who seemed to only be weilding a sword each, their darts gone or spent. The first attacker, by the door, decided to quit waiting and lunged at the Elf, quickly followed by his counterpart. Because they didn't attack at the same time, Lanaey was able to spin, slashing the first attacker down his left arm and finishing the spin clashing swords with the second. Turning quickly, to get out of the middle, she brought her second long knife to bear against the second attacker, striking at his exposed lower left side. While Lanaey had been trying to take the second attacker out of the fight, the first had recovered from her strike and charged her again with a vicious yell erupting from his lungs. Her long knife was brought up in defense too late to stop the swing, it only slowed the descent.

Pain flashed through the Elf's mind before she blocked it out, but her right arm would be severly hampered in fighting. The sword had cut through her leathers to go roughly into her shoulder and sliding slightly down her arm, cutting deep into her muscle.

Lanaey involuntarily gave a primal yell as she kicked the first attacker several times to get him away. Finally he tripped over a loose board while backing slightly up to avoid further kicks from Lanaey's long legs. Once he was down she turned and brought her injured arm up and drove it down into the second attackers chest as he was trying to get off the floor from her first swing into his side. Ignoring his screams Lanaey wreched her long sword out of his quickly dying body and turned just in time to avoid having her spine sliced. Her back still got slashed and she cried out before stumbling forward. The first attacker was once again rushing her, he didn't seem to want to change his tactics. Lanaey got caught on her feet when backing up and as she tried to fend off all of his blows she started tripping. As she started to fall backwards completely she blocked his sword one last time with her weak arm and brought her left arm up in one swift motion and slit his throat. He gurgled and sputtered and fell foward, putting a part of his weight against Lanaey. He wasn't going to be fighting any more.

Lanaey distinctly heard a crack when her head finally connected to the wall behind her because of her fall. Having the dead weight of the brigand only added to the force with which she fell.

At least I took down two more of them. . . I'm going to wake up with the worst headache of my life. . if I wake up . . . I wonder what the others are doi. . . . and Lanaey slipped into blessed unconsciousness.

[ June 06, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Taralphiel]

The Rohanians and Dark Elf looked at Laurel as she slumped slightly in stance. Her mind was whirling. Suddenly she had a flash of clarity 'Who is with my grandmother?!'

Leaping into the cliffside room she saw the Gondorian fighting viciously. She also saw some of the Wild Men had been downed with slender silver daggers. She looked up to see Taralphiel holding three in one hand, eyes glaring.

Laurel fought like a cornered beast to remove the threat to her grandmother. Slicing one soldier open, she spun and planted her foot in the stomach of one behind her, before running her blade along his throat, and watched him crumple to the floor. A yell sounding from the throne, she saw a Wild Man descending upon Taralphiel. She already had her sword readied, but a quick dagger throw from Laurel saw she neednt use it. Racing to her grandmothers side she scowled 'Do not raise that sword again by Eru!!'

More Wild Men came through the passages, and Laurel slipped into a frenzy of fighting, hearing the screams and clanging of blades dulled in her ears. She knew she was getting more and more careless. It was when a Wild Mean took a lucky shot at her exposed leg that she woke from it, but simply too late. She slumped to the floor, as the Rohirrim ran back into the room with Rudhchamion and Annanoldowen, after securing the children. She saw the Elves loose their bows before darkness enveloped her.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Elena ran, staggering slightly, but with Fiona scaring off the wild men- What did she DO to them? Elena wondered- they could go slower than if they were trying to flee their captors.
“Wh-where are we going?” she asked between gulps of air.
“I don’t know” said Fiona, slowing down.
“I want to see if my Papa is still at your house” Elena said slowly, eagerly slowing almost to a walk.
”Going back to where they caught us. That’s really clever” Fiona answered. Irritation flashing in her eyes.
Elena winced. She almost felt like crying.
“But-“ she began. Suddenly she stopped. “Where’s Rian?”
Both girls gazed around.
“She wouldn’t have stopped again, would she?” Elena asked with a sigh.
“There she is” Fiona called, pointing.
“Well, it doesn’t look like we have any choice anymore.” Elena said “She’s going back to the village.

After sharing an exasperated look the two girls began to run after Rian. It was hard to catch up to her, because she was so much older. Elena began panting more, but it didn’t seem fair to let Rian cope with monsters or whatever was at the village alone, not in her state. After a while the reached the outskirts of the village. There was no sign of Rian anywhere.
“She must have gone to our house” Elena started, then realised what she had said. “I mean your house” she corrected herself, blushing.

Fiona got no chance to reply, as Elena spotted something and ran to her left.
“Hello” she said to the beautiful horse. “Fiona! This is the Elf lady’s horse. Isn’t she beautiful?”
Elena offered her hand to the horse’s nostril. She sniffed it gently, then lipped the back of her hand. Fiona walked over slowly, and the same events repeated themselves. Suddenly there was shouting from a nearby house. Elena looked around in fear. As she listened, now, she could hear many strange noises- bangs, yells and screaming. If Rian was here I would hold her hand, she thought sadly. But Fiona is probably enjoying it. Nervously she turned back to where Fiona was still patting the horse.
“What shall we do?” she asked.

Almost as if in answer, the horse shook her head and began to walk towards the woods.
“Do you think we should follow it?” Elena whispered, transfixed as it turned it’s head to whicker softly at them.
“Don’t you want to get away from here?” Fiona asked, just as quietly.
“But w-what about Rian?” Elena asked, voice breaking. Again tears began to prick at her eyes.

[ June 10, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[Annunfuiniel]

Everything happened in a flash. Others had darted off the room to protect the maids and the children. From the corner of his eye Annunfuin caught a glimpse of Cartil stepping slowly backwards, sword raised. Only a few seconds later there was a sound of metal clanging to the floor. Annunfuin swung around just when Laurel let out a cry "Cartil!!". Air whistled and the first darts hit the floor at his feet.


Annunfuin felt he had barely drawn his sword from the scabbard when Laurel had already fended off the first assault. What madness has taken her? She'll get herself killed in no time! Annunfuin frowned. But presently he had to disengage his mind from these thoughts. Laurel had gone after Cartil and his captor and Annunfuin’s heart urged him to follow her. But reason prevailed and he turned to consider the situation.


His gaze met a pair of gleaming green eyes. For a second they stood there face to face, sounds of battle about them; the grey Gondorian and the Swan Lady.


"Why did you stay?" Taralphiel asked Annunfuin in a tone that made him feel like some young rascal disturbing her afternoon rest. He needed no time to think for the answer.


"Stay with your King! That has been my order as long as I can remember." he spoke gravely. "In this House and this land You are the King and the Queen and it is my duty to stay and guard You, Milady." Annunfuin bowed low and then extended his sword in a token for his allegiance. Just then fierce cries filled the air and heavy footsteps drew quickly near.


"Well, my lad, seems you’ll get a chance to act on your duty at once", the Swan Lady said as earnestly as Annunfuin right before her but he saw a bright flash in her eyes that in other conditions could easily have been interpreted as amusement. Indeed, despite the situation Annunfuin had to grin: no one had called him a 'lad' in over thirty years!


Feeling suddenly younger and ready for battle Annunfuin dashed to the doorway. It was relatively narrow and easier to defend than the open room behind him – there he could meet his enemies one by one. If they have only swords I may have a chance to delay them… he thought just as the van of the assailants emerged from round the corner.


The first man rushed straight towards him. Annunfuin sprung to the right and his blade gashed the man’s back. In the next moment he blocked a strike and made a quick counterblow. Marble dyed red with blood. Keep your eye on the enemy. Defence and stroke, defence and stroke… rules learned in childhood ran still in his head, though unconsciously. The sword rose and fell in the dwindling light. Storm came over them. Lightning flashed and the following thunder drowned the cries of agony.

Six had fallen in front of the doorway but there were at least another half dozen Wild Men to come. Annunfuin started to feel weary and slowly he was forced to retreat back to the room. Right then, as the situation started to look severe, an unlooked-for aid came to him. A carefully aimed silver dagger whirled through the air and hit its target. Another soon followed. Annunfuin glanced over his shoulder and saw Taralphiel standing tense, ready to throw again. With renewed hope he turned back to face the enemy.


Just then Laurel tumbled to the cliff-side room and Annunfuin saw at once she was hurt. Wild gaze in her eyes she fought her way to her grandmother, just in time. But now the Wild Men were pushing to the room from every passage. Like every experienced soldier in that situation Annunfuin started a slow retreat towards the throne. Together he and Laurel could defend the Swan Lady for quite a long time, maybe till the others would come – or till the bitter end.


But Laurel had no mind to draw back and wait. She rushed forward, slashing and beating blindly and many of the Wild Men shrank in the sight of the berserker. But still they were too many. Fear filled Annunfuin’s heart and mind as he saw her charge.


"Eru, guard her!" he managed to stammer out. Then, dropping all caution, he leaped forward, his clear shout ringing in the air:


"Rómenril! Rómenril for Gondor!"


As an immediate answer to his call the rest of the defenders plunged to them. But it was too late! Annunfuin let out a desperate cry as he watched Laurel slump to the floor. Elven arrows whizzed in the air and the enemy was scattered. Defence and stroke! Annunfuin cleared his way to Laurel’s motionless, bloodstained body and kneeled down beside her. The Wild Men were retreating but now their black darts answered to the firing of the Elves.


"She’s alive!" Annunfuin called to the others, heedless of the arrow-rain. Annanoldowen and the Dark Elf were soon on his side and started to carry the young maiden out of the cross-fire. Right then, behind them, rose a dark figure from amongst the slain. Dirk gleamed as lightning stroke. Before the crash rolled over them Annunfuin turned and thrust his sword through the wretched body. The Elves and Laurel were safe.


But finally a blindly shot bolt went home. Annunfuin was just releasing his blade from the corpse as the venomous dart pierced his right thigh. He never lost hold of his sword though pain flushed through his body. Instinctively he grabbed the feathered shaft and pulled. Blood felt almost hot on his cold hands. He staggered a few steps forward before a black veil obscured his sight. Last thing he felt was the poison burning in his veins. Rómenril still in his hand Annunfuin sank into deep unconsciousness and fell to the blood-red floor.

[maikafanawen]

The wild men retreated and Annanoldowen told Herebrand and Ohtaredan to take Annunfuin and Laurel to the nearest chambers and bar the doors. Annanoldowen retrieved her bags of herbs and went to work strait away, first on Laurel whose wounds were deeper and more serious. After thoroughly cleaning the wounds, the elf produced her mortar and pestle and began to grind up sufficient amounts of yarrow. When it was a fine mustard coloured powder at the bottom of the mortar, Annanoldowen added aloe, other minor herbs and a combination of liquids making a gritty paste. This she applied by wrapping it in a gauze material and laying it gently over the wounds, securing it with bandages.

“Any other patient would need plenty of rest and the bandages to be re-applied every two hours. However, since our situation doesn’t allow it, I will do all I can so that she will be able to do the essential activities, though a bit slowly, in a matter of hours. But it is necessary that I have no one else in the room.” Nodding, the room was cleared, except for Taralphiel whom Annanoldowen was not foolish enough to send away, and Annunfuin who lay unconscious on the parallel bed.

Laurel would be fine for now so Annanoldowen let her lie for a moment as she went to tend to Annunfuin. The man had a wound that was growing blacker by the minute on his right thigh. The elf had to work fast. She ground up an ample amount of Horehound, Sage, and St. John’s Wort working fast to put it on the wound and on other parts of the body that appeared to be infected.

“I’m going to need some wine,” she told Taralphiel who was cooling Laurel’s brow with a wet cloth. The Swan Lady gave Annanoldowen’s request to a maid hovering outside the door and a bottle of dorwinion wine plus two chalices were delivered. In one Annanoldowen mixed Valerian and St. John’s Wort. Using a special plant she revived Annunfuin for a moment to have him drink the potion. Then the Valerian kicked in and he was asleep again, this time more peacefully. In the other Annanoldowen readied Valerian and wine for Laurel to drink after she was revived and ready to sleep again.

The next half hour was spent diligently working on the difficult process of healing the Swan Lady’s granddaughter. When Taralphiel opened the door, allowing Herebrand, Ohtaredan, and Rudhchamion to enter, Laurel was able to speak in hushed, choked tones, and Annanoldowen looked very tired.

“She needs to begin working on her sleep. The wine will help her do so. When she wakes again she will be very nearly cured. I have treated Annunfuin’s poison wound and given him some sedatives. It will take much longer for him to heal, if at all.” The elf’s face was grave and her blue eyes were drained. Now,” she said, sighing and gesturing towards Laurel and her grandmother, “say what you must and we’ll leave ye to sleep for a bit.”

***

Gita raced back towards camp arriving at the King’s tent. She burst in, shoving the canvas flap aside.

“Gita!” acknowledged the king, who was seated in his makeshift throne, opposite the man Gita had taken prisoner. “Well done my lady, well done.” His expression changed from his friendly manner towards Gita back to his firm, commanding expression as he faced Cartil. “NOW!” he bellowed. “You were just saying that you will help us get the Swan Lady.” Cartil’s face, set and determined shook his head.

“I would die first.” Amused, Gita took a seat beside the king, and sat cross-legged on the furry animal pelts, her grey-black eyes twinkling.

[Taralphiel]

Taralphiel hovered by Laurel, watching her slowly sit up in a daze. SHe turned to the Elf 'I am in your debt, Milady!' she wept. Holding her granddaughters hand, she softly spoke to her 'Say only a little dear, you need to rest' 'I am sorry, I was foolish' she began

'No, no. Enough of that. I was the fool. Now, your army needs commanding' she turned her hand to the Rohanians and Elf that stood by with worried glancing 'We need to fight back, my child'

~*~

Laurel held a hand to a wall, to stop the room spinning about her 'But, where is the Gondorian' she slurred. She saw his pale body lying on a table beside her, and almost retched. 'It was my..fault..' she said slowly, shaking her head.

'Do not dwell on feeble things' snapped Rudhchamion, and her head jerked up 'Some of your party are missing. Some slain. We do not know that fate of those in the village. What do you suggest'

Laurel stopped shaking and grunted 'The camp is at the SOuthern Confines. Any hostages are there. If they are not rescued soon, you will be salvaging bodies. The Village...yes, you should go there afterwards. We left good people there. Head through the forest..then out to the Village. A small rescue party can go unnoticed' she finished as she swayed a little. 'If I rest, I should be able to go'

'Maybe' said the she-elf 'but now you must sleep'

Laurel did not argue, but lay back and fell into slumber.

~*~

Cuor came into the tent snarling 'Wher is she?!'

Gita smiled 'Who? the lovely Lady? My she is quite a fighter! She will be a wild one to tame' she mocked

The Elf reared back to his full height, and moved his face close to the womans 'I swear if you harmed a hair on her head...'

[maikafanawen]

“You’ll what?” countered Gita, “Breathe on me?” She waved her hand in front of her face in mockery. A few wild men chuckled. Cuor snarled.

“She—is—mine!” he hissed. “And mine to do whatever I please with. YOU MAY NOT TOUCH HER!!” Gita tensed and stood, her face threateningly close to Cuor’s.

“It is not your place to give me orders, elf!” she spat the last word and anger welled up inside her darkening eyes. The king stepped in.

“Gita. I promised Cuor the Swan Lady. You will do your best not to interfere thankyou.” Enraged, Gita left the tent, retreating into the darkness of the woods, drawing a knife. No one tells me what to do. I’ve had it. Cuor will have his Swan Lady. Oh yes, but only after I’m through with her. She grinned wickedly and crept through the forest to the village: undoubtedly Laurel’s next stop.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jesslyn fought hard during the raid on Alphirion, though the forces of the Wild Men seemed endless. On more than one occasion Jess arrived too late to save one of the villagers, but just in time to see their throat slit or their backs stabbed. The moon could barely be seen through the darkening clouds, and Jess thought she could feel the drip of a raindrop or two.

At one point, Jess was fighting off three Wild men with one of the younger men of the town, when a great chain of frightened screams could be heard and were followed by roaring laughter. Jess and the man, Khole, exchanged worried glances and quickly worked to get rid of the two Wild Men they had been fighting. Then they ran off in the direction of the screams, bringing a few of the other brave fighting villagers. They ran towards a dense chain of trees, sprinting like jackrabbits in the night. More people screamed and shouted beyond the line of trees. No words were quite clear, but Jesslyn knew they were desperately afraid, and that the cries were for help. Once they came close enough to make out the words, Jesslyn went first, bursting through a gap in the trees where the willows had been pulled back. The screaming continued, and most of the voices were clearly belonging to children; the young and the elders of Alphirion had been found. A great rage rose in Jess, overpowering any fear or apprehension that had once been.

The moon still provided enough light to see that there were twenty or thirty Wild Men surrounding a group of about ten or fifteen older men, women, and quite young children. This relieved Jesslyn only slightly, for it meant that not all of the young and old of Alphirion had been found. Apparently the group had tried their hardest to reach the safety the others had found, only to fail at the very last. Now the group formed a small circle with the children in the middle as a last pathetic defense.

The victims of the attack were screaming challenges, crying, or even comforting. The Wild Men roared back, laughing and smiling malicious grins revealing horribly cared for teeth. Sharpened tree branches and clubs made by the attacked villagers swatted and smacked at the attackers, to no affect or avail. The Wild Men began to slit the throats and gut through the stomachs of the outer folk of the circle. Jess continued on towards the group at a dead run, for whoever they went to help…it looked like they might be too late.

Jess and her fellow defenders attacked the attackers at two angles. Five middle-aged men and women darted into the circle to grab the children and sprint them off to safety with the rest of the old and young of Alphirion. The rest of the help attacked the Wild Men from behind. This battle raged on for almost a half hour, and by the end, heaps of Wild Men lay dead throughout the wooded area. Whatever was left of the killed villagers was too masticated to bury in some way.

They had only saved six people, and three were children, according to the five middle-aged rescuers.

~*~

Cartil was glad that the attention had been averted from him, and he listened carefully as the two Wild folk argued over…Laurel? Cartil had no idea exactly who they were talking about, but it had to be Laurel! That was what…what was his name? Cuor. That was what Cuor was fighting for?

Suddenly, as the woman Gita stormed out, the ‘king’ turned his attention back to Cartil. He growled, a deep growl that came from the bottom of his lungs. The King drew a dagger, golden and shining as it left a gold reflection on the animal pelts on the floor. He brought it straight to Cartil’s throat.

“I must attend to more important things than a scum like you at the moment. I will deal with you later, and if you do not agree then, than your head will soon be no longer attached to your neck. And should you move or make any attempt to leave, your throat will be slit and the blood will forever stay in a vial around my neck,” grunted the King. He whipped the knife away, almost cutting Cartil’s throat anyway. The Wild Man stalked out of the tent.

For the first time in his life, Cartil began to have doubts as to whether or not he could make it out of trouble alive.

[Annunfuiniel]

Annunfuin groped his way in the dreadful darkness. He crawled forward, ever forward seeking for something but knowing not what. There was no sound, no smell, no light to follow: yet he had to continue.

Suddenly he saw something white shining ahead. Anguish and regret pierced his heart. Bittersweet was it now for him to get his senses back: discover the familiar scent of lavender floating in the air; see the dear figure in the dim light, the beauty that always took his breath away; feel the soft skin under his trembling fingers. But cold she was and pale as the white robe she was wearing.

“Linnewyn!”

But gone was her smile and her singing voice. Old wounds were torn open. Annunfuin kneeled down beside his beloved and drew her into his arms. His tears fell silently into the golden cloud of her hair. “Linnewyn, I came too late…”

“So you did - again” spoke a cold voice from above; “You came too late and now she is dead.” Surprised, Annunfuin raised his eyes at another familiar figure.

“Why are you here, M’lady? And what do you mean - again?”

“You should have protected her!” the old woman exclaimed; “But look at her now…”

Annunfuin looked down to his lap and his mouth opened to a soundless scream. The curls spreading over his arms were no longer golden but deep brown. Great green eyes stared straight at him. But those eyes were dimmed, they couldn’t see. Annunfuin watched and Death watched back.

‘Too late...late....late.....’

“Laurel!!!”

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

“Laurel!!!” Annunfuin cried and sprang up in his bed. A wild, almost mad gaze blazed in his eyes. He was sickly pale save for the feverish spots on his cheeks. Every inch of his body ached but only after he felt a sharp twinge in his right leg did he truly come to himself.

***

Laurel woke up to a horrified scream. It seemed to come from somewhere afar and through thick mists of dream it flowed into her consciousness. Then her eyes flew open and she was wide awake: the voice had called out her name! Laurel looked at her right and saw Annunfuin sitting on the bed next to hers. The Gondorian was upset but presently Laurel was too glad to notice that.

“Annunfuin!” she called and, aiding with her sound hand, she slowly pulled herself to a sitting position. Though she didn’t know it almost twelve hours had passed since she had last been awake and her recovery had advanced quickly. The tearing pain was gone though she could still feel her wounds with every heartbeat.

Gradually she stood up and leaned heavily to the wall. The room spun in her eyes for a while but settled down quite quickly. Still supporting herself on the wall she walked the few steps to Annunfuin’s bed and reached for his hand.

“Everything is fine, I’m here. Annunfuin, look at me!”

***

Annunfuin heard Laurel’s demanding yet kindly voice and slumped back down to his pillows sighing with relief. Laurel wasn’t dead. Miracles, or more likely Annanoldowen’s skilful hands, had been at work. Have I slumbered for days? For how else could she be up already? Annunfuin had to wonder while he eyed her and tried to smile.

“Laurel…” he whispered, now barely audibly. Little by little the horror of the dream eased its grip of him and he felt suddenly weary beyond all measure. But seeing Laurel’s green eyes, now bright and vivid, observing him with anxiety Annunfuin remembered the wild look he had lastly seen in them, amid the battle. I must talk with her – now!

“Laurel” he began again, struggling to get some strength into his voice; “I beg You to listen to me now, though I know You would let no man, not even the King! give these words to you were he standing before You.” Annunfuin paused and breathed sharply to keep back the dark haze that tried to veil his sight. No feelings could be read from Laurel’s withdrawn face.

“But I am more like a travesty of a man and hold no power over You; nor am I standing before You but lie here like a helpless old fool. Therefore I dare to ask as your low servant: ‘Hear me and heed my counsel!’” Annunfuin spoke now in haste for he felt time was flying past him;

“What I saw before… Was that the way Your father taught You to fight?” Silence fell between them in the empty room. Annunfuin nodded slightly; “That is what I thought for no man would teach his children how to get killed in their first battle! Your father was a wise man and I know You haven’t forgotten his words and advice. So follow them, everywhere, every time – there are no exceptions.” A shadow of agony passed over Annunfuin’s face as he turned and looked at Laurel. Her head was bowed and her eyes lowered. Annunfuin reached out and took her hand;

“Your heart is still kindly and pure. Don’t let hatred and revenge overpower You! For then the enemy has won and You have become their kind with black heart and morbid soul." Annunfuin's voice trailed off into a whisper; "Don’t follow them to the darkness…" And Laurel’s hand slipped from his inert fist.

[ June 15, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel looked into the eyes of the Gondorian, and she saw her father.

She slumped back against the wall as she let go of his hand, and let him rest. She could have sobbed, but she could barely breathe, and she felt she had no tears to cry. She began to realise that she was fighting like one of those Wild Men, and she was almost as vile in heart as they were. She saw the pale, unblinking eyes of her mother and father, and she saw death a hundred fold move past her. That was what had made her Wild, she knew that. She staggered up, and stood beside the resting soldier.

'Thankyou, good Sir. I heed your words. I will not lose to the death that has its grips on me. I will save this place, and you. I swear it'

She moved outside, limping heavily, but mobile enough. This caused a great stir among the warriors that had councilled by her door. Annanoldowen moved forward, and examined her swiftly 'You have your legs. That is good. What do you plan to do?'

'There is a good man out there, I wish to get him back' she said with a half-smile. The she-elf sighed 'Well, I cannot reccommend it, but I do not see hope in convincing you. Simply assure me you will go with as many men as we can spare. You need a strong soldier to watch you' Laurel nodded, and turned to the men 'So, who wishes to help me find good Sir Cartil?'

[ June 15, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Kryssal]

Lanaey woke up with pain. She couldn't locate the individual injuries because her whole body seemed to be on fire. When she tried to move her head however, she realized that her head was the the thing that should be moved the least as it caused the most disorientation and pain.

I must . . get up. . . .still fighting . . .

Getting up was proving to be more difficult than she anticipated. Lanaey only figured on getting over a stiff and unresponsive body, she had forgotten that one of the men she had been fighting was still laying on top of her. Her first impulse was to push him off with her right arm, then she realized her arm was one of the places on her body that wasn't moving without extreem effort.

Arrrhhhh, this is simply irritating!

Slowly, the trapped Elf moved her feet so that they were grounded against the floor. Bringing up her good arm and putting it firmly on his right shoulder, forcing up her right arm to lay on his left shoulder to provide whatever help it could. Taking four deep breaths, she focused all her energy on one, gigantic shove. Lanaey actually let out a pain filled grunt as she pushed against the dead weight with all of her strength. The corpse slid down and off to the side, but still stayed on her right foot. A small, much less power driven tug got her foot out and she was free, except that now she was too drained to get any where. After resting for as long as she dared, Lanaey slowly started to roll herself over to her stomach, which basically consisted of falling over onto her side, then swinging her good arm around till she managed a full laying position. If she hadn't been trying to get up so much she might have thought about how nice it would have been to be laying down.

Eventually she managed a kneeling position, followed later by a standing position with the help of the wall. Keeping to the wall she moved the long way around the room until she finally reached the door and then went down the hall. The stairs looked like too big of an obstacle, and they almost were. Stumbling several times and falling down many stairs she reached the bottom with some new bruises and scratches.

Lanaey was only focusing on getting out of the house and once she did, all of her pain and exhaustion came back to her full force. The fall was not graceful and her lately thrown out arm didn't make the impact any less painful.

Her vision swirled with black mists as she fought to take in regular breaths. Through the dark vision Lanaey thought she could see a pair of feet coming toward her. She didn't know if they were friendly or not, but in her state she couldn't do much about it either way.

[The Ruling Ring]

Ohtaredan frowned in concern as he walked out the door, into the cool mists of the night. He could not be sure of Herebrand, but everyone else seemed to be asleep, or set about their quiet evening tasks.

Worry still plagued him. There was sickness, wounds, unending trouble.

Ohtaredan stopped and looked behind him.

"Herebrand!" he called. He didn't know, was the man with him?

"I suppose I am alone..." he mumbled after a spell, turning back around and walking again.

He felt Gostanendoll's hilt against his side. He had put the sword to more use than ever yet, today. He shuddered inwardly, blinking in weariness in the dark. He just didn't feel cut out for this kind of work.

Not that he wasn't proud of the help he'd been today...protecting the people with Laurel and the others...but he missed his old way of life, as a blacksmith.

Just then, he heard a slight shuffling on the ground in front of him. He looked down instantly, seeing a slim, Elven form lying there. He bent down swiftly, gently placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Lanaey," he breathed.

[ June 18, 2003: Message edited by: The Ruling Ring ]

[Kryssal]

Lanaey heard her name and tried to respond but only turned her head a bit. She felt that she could do no more than lie there and perhaps die. Somewhere in the back of her fogged mind she was suprised that she had gotten out of the house at all, but her fore mind was completely blank with zings of pain through the sleepiness.

Something was tilting her head upwards and she cracked an eye open. It was one of the group she had come in with, but her twisting mind couldn't grasp his name. He was saying something; the sounds only came across in mumbling waves that the Elf couldn't make out. She tried to say something, to tell him that she wanted to sleep or perhaps she was trying to say that she wanted some water. Lanaey couldn't remember. She just gave up on trying to do anything.

~*~

Hmm…Leena looked to her left, right, and even swiveled her upper body to check behind her. I’m lost. Perfect.

After her last fight, the priestess had tried to follow the chase trail back to the village. The problem was the many other trails overlapping the one she had helped make coupled with the fact that Leena suspected that in the run they had gone in more than one circle.

Sighing, Leena set out on a large trail and hoped it would lead her right. Eventually it would lead her somewhere: to the Swan House, out of the forest randomly, or to the invaders camp. Frowning at the prospect of ending up in the enemies lair, she trudged along, not really looking for danger, but at least listening for the tall tale signs and keeping her sword ready.

She scrunched up her nose as she walked, smelling her body odor and feeling very sticky from sweat. A good bath was definitely needed, but she had no idea of when she’d be able to get one.

After almost an hour of walking she saw someone crouching in the bushes ahead of her. She had barely seen him in the first place, just a glint of sunlight at the right spot revealed his hidden presence. Moving into a hunting stance and taking out one of the darts from the pouch she kept them all in at her waist, she tried to make her way around to his back as silently as possible. She was almost able to see his backside when two bow wielding men with arrows trained on her stepped into view on either side of her.

She looked between the two, not giving in an inch. They were too far off and covered with too much foliage for Leena to be able to discern exactly where their loyalties lie.

It didn’t take long for one of the archers to recognize her. In fact, Leena had still been trying figure out how she was going to handle the new situation when he called to his companions and offered his hand to her as he approached. As he came closer the priestess could see the garb of a Rohirrim officer.

A smile broke on his face. “I am Beden and we could use your help.”

She took his hand after putting her weapons away and smiled in return, “I’ll do what I can.”

[ August 03, 2003: Message edited by: Kryssal ]

[Taralphiel]

Laurel tried to ease herself down into a chair. A few hours slow travel had taken all her energy. She had swiftly made a change of her original plans. Herself, Herebrand and Ohtaredan would go to the Village, and inspect the Rohirrim troops. There they would also look for Lanaey, Leena and Jesslyn. From there they would rescue Cartil. Laurel had entrusted her grandmother and Annunfuin's safety to the Elves Rudhcahmion and Annanoldowen, and Sir Thagon.

Laurel watched her other grandmother fuss over her wounds, her face creased with worry. 'How did you get out of this alive gran?'

'As we always do my dear. Your grandfather wanted his sword, the fool. But her can barely stand.' she said with a slight tone of amusement.

'So, you have not seen Lanaey, Leena, Jesslyn or Ilisit? What about Galain and Gorath' said Laurel. She shook her head 'Last time I saw the Elf and Gondorian they were headed out for more bandages and the sort. The Lady Jesslyn was helping some children off home, and the Rohanian was tending to his horses' She lowered her head 'And those Elven brothers...they went off on their own and I havent seen them since' 'I'm so sorry dear. I wish they had been here, I wouldve hid them the best I could'

Laurel nodded slowly, and headed out to hear a yell 'We have found the Elf!' Laurel made her way out as fast as she could...

[ June 18, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Taralphiel]

Cuor kept his perch in the tree, and sowly watched Gita make her way in the dark. His blood was boiling, and he fingered a dart in one hand. He smiled as he though of how easy it would be to throw it and watch her life ebb away. But he held it, and waited for the right time. Manouvering from branch to branch, he too headed to the Swan House. He had done his duty, and was waiting for his reward.

~*~

Taralphiel turned to the three that were left to guard her 'I am sorry this had to happen. I know you must worry for those that you left in the Village' She stared at the Gondorian, who was making a great effort to hide his concern for his shieldmaiden companion. She put a light hand on his shoulder 'Eru is with her. Trust he knows what is best' The man nodded, but found little comfort, she could tell.

'I trust my nephews. They are strong and wise, They will not succumb' said Rudhchamion in a single tone. The group was heartily surprised when Taralphiel let out a small peal of laughter 'Ah! My good friend! You have changed so little! You make me feel like a child taking council again! I thank you for that!' He changed his expression but a slight 'You are no longer a young shieldmaiden Taralphiel. Your efforts with the sword at your age do you little benefit, and less to others...'

'You see much, good Elf' she said slowly 'But not all I am afraid. I was gievn my fighting spirit deep in the bowels of the former Mirkwood, and it will not leave me till I die. It is all I can do'

The Elf said little to this, but turned to Thagon 'I suggest we patrol the grounds of the House. There will still be soldiers around' Both readies their swords, and set out.

Taralphiel sat in the back room with the She-Elf, and watched over Annunfuin. The Elf looked greatly fatigued, and Taralphiel offered her a chair.

'Ah, these times would come, I knew they would. But I expected to be as dust by that time' The Elf simply listened. Taralphiel put a cold cloth on the face of the Gondorian 'He looks like my son-in-law. That is why Laurel took his words to heart so easily. It is good that he is here. But I hope she will not suffer the loss of a father twice'

'I have done what I can' said Annanoldowen 'He will recover if he has a strong spirit' The Elf placed her hand on the old womans

'I am worried about you now. I have not seen you since the Third Age! Now is as good a time as any to catch up on lost talk!'

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"Rian's bigger than us" said Fiona practically, but there was a tinge of worry on her face. Elena sighed deeply and nodded.

"I'm sure you know what's best" she said to the horse, stroking it's silky mane. It tossed it's head with a whinny, then began to walk slowly enough for the two girls to keep up. They walked one on each side, not talking.
'Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry' Elena repeated to herslef over and over. 'Don't cry, don't c-'

"Elena!"
Fiona's shout made Elena run around to her side.
"Look!"
Fiona pointed a trembling finger to a figure walking unsteadily along the street. It was Rian, and she was coming towards them. Fiona and Elena watched her come closer and closer, then exchanged shocked glances as she walked straight past. They both began to walk after her.

"Rian!" called Elena, pulling her sleeve. Rian ignored her.
"RIAN!" Fiona called louder, but Rian showed no sign of hearing. Fiona ran around in front of her and stood there. Rian began to walk around her. Fiona glanced significantly at Elena, who grabbed one sleeve as Fiona took the other. Tugging, they managed to stop Rian in her tracks.We're starting to understand one another quite well Elena thought suddenly. It was quite a shock.

"Rian, why aren't you listening to us?" Elena said quietly, staring at the older girl.
"RIAN wake up" Fiona said, waving her hands in front of her sisters face. Without Fiona hanging on, Rian began to walk again.

Elena had never lost her temper before. She didn't even know she had one, but as she hung onto Rian's sleeve she felt something...snap.
"Rian you stop this minute" she said, pulling harder. Rian's sleeve tore, but she didn't stop.
"Rian- STOP" Elena called, finding herself suddenly holding a piece of material instead of Rian. "Stop or I'll..."

Without even thinking she darted forwards and slapped Rian's face. Rian stopped abruptly, then burst into tears.
"Oh stop crying. We're trying to save you" Elena said crossly.

[Manardariel]

Fiona´s mouth dropped open. WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL MOUNTAINS WAS THAT?? She stared at Elena, who was looking stunned herself, then at crying Rian, and back to Elena who looked a bit pleased by now.

"Come on then, will you?" she said, pointing to the forest impatiently. Fiona´s mouth by now had the size of a bullfrog.

"Hang on, hang on. What was THAT?" She asked. "Miss Priss, did you just- hit her??"

Elena shrugged. "I guess I just lost my temper..." Her voice trailed off, as she dared a smile at Fiona, who heartily smiled back. Maybe she isn´t that bad!

"Now, shouldn´t we move?" Fiona asked in a business-like way. "Come along, Rian. Oh for heaven´s sake, move! Here, take my hand..." Fiona rolled her eyes at Elena. "Like a baby, I swear!" she added in an undertone. The two girls grinned misceviously, surpressing fits of giggles.

They followed the horse into the forest. It seemed a safe place, and so calm, completly uneffected by the strife going on outside the forests. Golden sunlight shown through the branches, birds chirped, and they even saw a bunny-rabbit hopping by. The horse stopped at a little creek, with a grassy spot beside it. Elena immeadiatly began to wash her clothes out; Fiona reluctantly following suit: she still stank of throw-up, blood and dirt. While they carefully rinsed out their clothes and scrubbed their bodies, not a word was spoken.

"Elena?" Fiona suddenly fel herself saying. "Elena, you were- you were really brave."

[The Ruling Ring]

"Lanaey," Ohtaredan spoke again, leaning towards her "Mankoi naa lle sinome? I thought everyone was inside with Laurel and--," he broke off, remembering.

There really was no time to try to get this poor Elf to talk. She was badly hurt. She seemed almost ready to speak for a moment, then went limp on the ground.

"Lanaey!" he breathed in sharply, scooping the light being up in his arms and turning back to the house. "Uuma dela," he said, more to himself than to Lanaey, "all will be well. Laurel can help you."

He reached the doorstep, stepping through the threshold.

[Taralphiel]

Laurel watched as Ohtaredan ducked under the doorway, carrying a limp Elf. With a sigh of relief, she cleared room so he could lay her down.

She was barely concious, and Laurel began to check her wounds. Firwyn began to treat the wounds as she knew how, but this was no match for Elven healing. 'This should get her up and about, and maybe she can use some of her own tricks' said Laurel's grandmother.

Laurel turned to Ohtareden with a great smile 'I thank you for helping' He nodded and left the house to continue searching for others.

Laurel sat down by the Elf, and began to wait for her to regain concioussness. She hoped she would be able to tell her where any of the rest of the Company were.

[Cuthalion]

Ohtaredan turned at the sound of booted feet striding just outside the door. His hand went to his sword, then relaxed as Herebrand ducked inside. His face was sweaty and begrimed, yet his eyes lit with pleasure at the sight of his friends. He clasped hands with Ohtaredan, then his eyes narrowed at the sight of Laurel's wounds. "By the...what has happened?" He went to her and laid a steadying hand on her shoulder. She grinned wearily at him, then pulled away. "I've been gone too long it would seem, my friends..."

Herebrand looked around the room for something, anything to drink. He stripped of his helmet and dropped it on the nearest table. He was tired and frustrated, not knowing who among his men might be lying dead now and he, totally unaware. At that moment, he just savoured being able to sit peacefully, his muscles tired almost to exhaustion.

His companions looked at him questioningly, but knew better than to speak to him just then. It was hard to see the young, idealistic warrior in this careworn, haunted man before them. He ran his hand over rough-hewn table on which his arm now rested and let his mind wander free. It seemed to him that he had never known anything but living up to ideals, standards, codes of honour. It light of all the things he had so recently seen and experienced, was it all worth it?

Herebrand heaved a heavy sigh and pushed himself to his feet. It had to be worth it. His life and his actions had to mean something! He turned to Ohtaredan. "I have to find my men, how many I have lost. Will you come with me, or will you stay with Laurel?" As he picked up his helmet, he saw for the first time to injured Elf, as she lay sleeping. Sadness filled him and he turned away, his need for action out-weighing his desperate need for rest.

[ June 24, 2003: Message edited by: Cuthalion ]

[Kryssal]

As Lanaey slowly came back to herself she vaguely wondered if she hadn't dreamed about getting out of the house as an excuse for all the pain, but as she focused, she realized that as she tested her muscles they weren't gritty with pain like before. Also in moving her muscles she discovered that she was on something soft. She could hear voices: near, far, mumbling, yelling, crying. One voice stood out.

"I think she's waking up." It was a young female and Lanaey was almost sure that it was Laurel, but she was at the House. "Lanaey, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes or squeeze my fingers?"

Lanaey took several deep breaths which made her chest creak a little, ignoring the voice for a moment. She wanted to see how much she could actually do without having someone stop her for her own safety. As quickly as she could, which was much faster than she expected, the Elf arched her back and managed to sit all the way up. For a moment she thought she had it, then her mind started swimming and Lanaey faught to not fall back down.

Someone put their hands onto her shoulders to push her back down, but abruptly stopped when Lanaey uttered "No!" much more harshly than she meant to. Openeing her eyes she found that her earlier guess had been right and that it was Laurel beside her.

Lanaey spoke out rather quickly, catching Laurel by suprise. "Who is at the House?"

Laurel almost chuckled at the question. "It's secure, if that was what you were wondering. They've retreated back to their main camp," Lanaey assumed that she was now talking about the invaders, "and I was wondering if you knew where any of the other group members that were stationed here in town."

Lanaey shook her head, then stopped when it started to swim again. "I saw Jesslyn going off with a group toward the forest from a distance, but I started to search through the houses. I don't know where anyone else went."

Laurel looked slightly deflated at the news. After a moment she spoke again. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better than I thought I would, who healed me?"

Laurel turned and looked at another human. "Her name is Firwyn, but she isn't nearly as good as you or Annanoldowen."

Lanaey barked a little laugh. "I don't know about healing. I only know small remedies, but if you wouldn't mind getting me a cup of hot camomile tea and any other mind pain soothers."

Lanaey started to slowly stretch out her arms and legs as Laurel once again turned.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Elena sighed with relief as the horse stopped walking. She gazed around with wide eyes. This place certainly seemed safe, and it was so beautiful! They had halted by a stream, and Elena gladly began to bathe herself and wash her clothes. As she scrubbed she looked at the sunlight dappling the water. Somehow it seemed more beautiful than anything Elena had ever seen. It seemed like they had left their problems and entered another world. Perhaps the Elf-lady camped here and left some of her magic? she wondered dreamily.

"Elena?" Fiona said, startling Elena from her thoughts. "Elena, you were- you were really brave."
Elena blushed.
“Not really. You saved us, and you were a lot braver than me” she said earnestly.
The two had a good natured argument about who had been braver, then began to laugh again. There was something about this place that made Elena want to laugh and sing.
“We were both brave” Elena said quietly.

Wearing her petticoat she hung her dress over a bush to dry, then went over to where Rian was lying against a tree. She still hadn’t said anything.
“I-I’m sorry Rian” she said quietly “but we really needed to get out of the village. Look we’re safe now”
Rian didn’t move and didn’t answer. Elena bent over her and caught a whiff of smell from the day’s varying incidents.
“Rian you need to wash” she said firmly and took her hand to pull her up. Rian didn’t protest but followed like a baby. Elena took off her outer dress, led Rian into the water, and began to wash the dress. She turned to Fiona who was sitting on the bank.
“Will you help Rian?” she asked quietly.
It must be horrible for Fiona to see her sister like this she thought sadly as she scrubbed at the grey dress. There were stains all over it. This will never be clean, she thought, feeling like Rian’s mother.

Later Elena and Fiona sat around a small campfire Fiona had made, while Rian sat a little way off staring at nothing. The horse was standing close, she felt like a protecting presence. The three girls had eaten some fruits that Elena had recognised from the countryside around her family’s farm. She remembered eating them on picnics with her cousins, climbing trees and seeing all the animals and sighed. Everything had changed so fast. Men had destroyed her farm and she had moved to Fiona’s house with her father. Now men might have destroyed Fiona’s house and she didn’t even know where her father was, so what could they do now? Her dress was crumpled and torn, but somehow that seemed less important than it had before. Dimly Elena remembered that when she went out with her cousins or played with the kittens in the stables at the farm her dresses had often got torn so that her Aunt had had to mend them. Elena thought that perhaps now they would go back to her cousins who had moved to the city, but she realised that she would miss Fiona and her family. It was all very complicated.

“I wonder where Papa is?” she asked Fiona without looking at her. “And your family?”
“And Porridge” added Fiona.
Suddenly Elena felt cold. Della. She had lost Della. She tried not to cry, she didn’t want Fiona to stop thinking she was brave but she couldn’t help it. Tears pushed there way through her lids even as she screwed up her eyes to try and stop it. Finally a sob shook her shoulders and tears began to stream faster and faster down her cheeks. Fiona looked at her.
“I’m sure your Papa will be alright” she said.
Elena shook her head mutely.
“He will” Fiona said firmly.
“I-I lost Della” whispered Elena brokenly.
Fiona drew back.
She must think I’m so babyish, Elena thought sadly.
“It’s just a doll” Fiona said.

Elena gulped to try to still her sobs. Her breath came judderingly. She tried to let the calmness of the area oak into her. It worked, a little.
“Sh-she is a doll but she’s also the only friend I have left from the farm, except for Papa. My Uncle carved her and my Aunty made her dress. My cousins helped to sew her clothes too. It was a present when I was one year old. And-“ she gulped again as tears filled her eyes. “And she has my Mama’s necklace on” she finished quietly before dissolving into floods more tears.

[Manardariel]

"I lost Della."

Fiona stared. That was all she was worried about now? Her doll and a necklace??

Fiona wanted to say something harsh, but the words got stuck on the way. She didn´t want to be the one who was brave. She didn´t want to be the one who never cried. She didn´t want to be the one in charge. She just wanted to lean on her father´s lap and listen to him tell her everything was all right. She wanted to play on te swing and listen to Rian´s singing through the open kitchen window. She wanted to play tag with her brothers. She wanted Shadow´s fur caressig her face. She wanted to sit on the porch banaster and teach Porridge to roll over and play dead. And most of all, she wanted things to go back to normal again.

Next to her, Elena wa still crying, and Fiona felt like joining her. Tears swelled up in her own eyes, and before she could even do something, she felt her cheeks get wet and was blinded in a set of tears.

Shyly, she reached out for Elena´s hand. The other girl clasped it tight, and they both wept, for what they had lost and what they had experienced.

At least, Fiona thought, and she was strangely comforted by this; At least we have each other...

[maikafanawen]

Annanoldowen sighed as she ground more valerian to put in the wine for Annunfuin. He had revived and was sweating again. She hated to see him suffer and thought it best that he sleep.

“Shouldn’t we keep him awake so he doesn’t go into a coma?” asked Taralphiel at one point. The elf stopped and looked into the face of the Gondorian shaking her head. “The pain of the poison is evil. Even one as strong as he can not stand it.” Taralphiel nodded and continued to shred aloe leaves and drop them in the mini cauldron full of boiling water.

“I have done what I can,” said Annanoldowen. “He will recover if he has a strong spirit.” The Elf placed her hand on the old woman’s. “I am worried about you now. I have not seen you since the Third Age! Now is as good a time as any to catch up on lost talk!” Taralphiel smiled as Annanoldowen spoke.

“I have been doing much studying lately. More than usual that is, and I came across scrolls, mm hmm, parchment sheaves yes I know, from the Second age! It’s brilliant! Oh no, not from Rivendell naturally, from Greenwood--er--Mirkwood, but it’s quite interesting the Silvan elves are a very diverse…”

Their talk waned on into the coming evening as they stood watch beside Annunfuin who slept peacefully. When the dial on the sill read half past six, his fever had left completely and both the elf and swan lady was informed of the events that occurred since their last meeting.

“This hasn’t been just a bandit party then. The wild men are set on conquer! Vanquish of your kingdom. I have never heard of such thing!” Taralphiel nodded, handing Annanoldowen thin gauze sheets to replace the one on Annunfuin’s thigh.

“We have been doing everything and up until recently it’s been enough.” Annanoldowen looked sideways quickly, Taralphiel’s brow was furrowed and she appeared to be deep in thought. “But just this last onslaught...we didn’t have--” The elf shook her head.

“Well we were separated. Split clearly in half. Once we reunite and figure out exactly what it is we need to do, the wild men will have no chance. Yes, thank you.” Annanoldowen took a chalice of the wine and valerian to Annunfuin who shook his head.

“I’ve been sleeping all day,” he moaned. “And the poison is nearly gone, yes?” The elf pursed her lips.

“Nearly but--” Annunfuin still refused the wine. “Fine, water then please.” Annunfuin propped himself up on pillows and listened as Taralphiel told of the Swan House and the advantages to which it could be put in the final battle.

[Cuthalion]

Herebrand strode outside into the brilliant day. He pulled himself into the saddle wearily sat his horse, then ground the heel of his hand into his gritty eyes, tired beyond reckoning. His eyes narrowed as he squinted up at the sun. What he would have given for an hour's rest, yet he couldn't allow himself that. His sense of honour and loyalty to his men was too deeply ingrained.

He sighed as he urged his mount forward. He had hoped that Ohtaredan would have joined him, to make the search easier. Herebrand shook his head as he rode to the nearest tavern to start his inquiries. "How can a man, especially a leader, lose an army? Gods!" He berated himself, for he had always been too hard on himself. His eyes closed of their own volition and he caught himself as he swayed in the saddle.

A bold young tavern-wench stood outside one of the inns just ahead of him, vigourously washing down the windows. She plunged her rag into the the bucket of water at her feet, then she turned and flashed him a smile. "Greetings, stranger! What business...?" She looked at him sharply, "Are you alright? You look done in. Get you down off that horse, man. Before you fall off!" She bustled to his side and put her hand to the reins. He grinned at her kindly, then shook his head. "Nay, my lovely. I'm looking for my men, an army in truth. Men like to myself...I could use an ale though." He dug in a pouch at his hip and tossed her a coin. Her eyes widened and she raced inside to fetch him a mug.

As he waited, he sensed that he wouldn't find what he was looking for in this place, or in any other for that matter. He would have to search the surrounding woods...again. Herebrand began to wonder why in all of Arda he had ever pledged his allegiance in the first place. His thoughts began to grow dark as she rushed back out to him with a frothing mug of ale. For the first time in weeks, he smiled broadly as he downed the ale in a series of huge gulps. "Another, my sweet, and then I must leave you. It seems to me I know where I can find them." She pouted a bit, then shrugged as she flounced away.

[Taralphiel]

Rudhchamion tested his footing along the undergrowth that was so close to the Swan House. Sniffing the air slightly, he kept his old sowrd at the ready, He also watched his companion carefully. The Man of the Order of the Black Rose was under the same pressures as he, and it was showing. Both had companions missing at the Village, with no word of their safety. But Rudhchamion trusted the skill of his nephews above all.

He peered through the branches, but tensed as he heard and unnatural movement near his side. The knight had heard it also, and moved to see what was there...


~*~


Through the shadows, the tent of the Great King could be seen. Straining, a man was bound and held in the corner, signs of battle clearly on him.

One Elf turned to another and nodded. The moon waxed on till all was still. Slowly shadows moved towards the tent.

Quiet words were mumbled between the two Elves and the young Gondorian, and they were gone as soon as they arrived, but left the captive with renewed hope.

~*~

Laurel looked up as the door to her grandparents small cottage moved open.

'My Lady Laurel, we must ask forgiveness for being missing for so long, and being unaware of the attack' began Gorath 'We were planning our route to our destination after here, and trusted Rudhchamion would be help enough'

'It is no fault of yours' said Laurel with fatigue 'But I am glad you are here now. Help is greatly needed'

'And we believe we can help you' said Galain, as he told her of Cartil's exact whereabouts and his condition.

Laurel got up out of her seat 'Well my good Elf friends, shall we retrieve good Sir Cartil?'...

[ June 30, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]