Quest for the Ainereg RPG

[Arien]

Elen hauled Peony upon to Nimroch. She could see a stern look of confidence on her tired face. She suspected Peony might not be too fond of horses especially a stallion like Nimroch, or it might have been something else.

"It is ok, Nimroch is a fine horse. He will bear his riders well…..if he trusts you…” Elen laughed and then patted his head and whispered in his ear. He started a slow trot keeping up with the rest of the horses, but still at the rear of the company. A soft breeze blew now from the south and night had set in. But the light of the moon and the stars lit their path to the mountains.

“How are you Peony? Are you tired?” asked Elen.

“No,” she said wearily, “ I am fine Elenlith.”

“Call me Elen, I prefer it….” she smiled although the young hobbit could not see her and they continued into the night.

[maikafanawen]

“Well it’s about time us hobbits got a ride. Not that we were tired but it did seem a little odd that the three smallest and shortest of legs had to walk when the elves and men got to ride,” said Peony good naturedly. She brushed a strand of curly blond-brown hair out of her eyes and took a deep breath, instantly regretting it. Just because there weren’t any rotting animal carcasses anymore, didn’t mean the stench was particularly gone. “Oh,” she continued, “and I’m not afraid of horses. I sat upon my first large horse in Bree. It was rather fun actually.” Peony shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable behind the she-elf she rode with.

She peered around Elenlith to see where Anson rode. It appeared that he had dozed a bit. His near-drowning incident earlier in the day had given her quite a start. We should have been more firm with him, and not aloud him to get on the raft by himself. Sighing, she tightened her grip as the horse stepped over a rock in the path. Elenlith handled her horse well, and the rest of the night’s ride was surprisingly comfortable for Peony.

[Orual]

The Misty Mountains were growing steadily closer. Anson woke to Andunériel shaking him gently, and flushed to realize that he had been asleep at all. "We'll have to begin crossing at first light," he said dismally. The Elf smiled comfortingly at him.

"We can camp tonight," she said. "Regain your strength. You'll need it for the cross."

She dismounted and helped him down, then called out to the others that they would camp for the night. Several of the travellers looked very weary, and Anson's vision was blurred from exhaustion. He tried to help build the fire, but Marsilion and Tinüsel refused to let him carry anything. In a sour temper, he sat down on his bedroll.

The dark blue sky was dotted with stars, and for a moment Anson was with Violet, counting out the constellations. Her raven hair was spread out on the ground, and her keen eyes picking out the constellations almost faster than Anson could name them.

Anson sighed heavily and buried his face in his blankets. The mountains would take his family off of his mind.

[Durelin]

Raken grinned at her but his eyes stayed the same, seeming to stare at something only he could see. In the dimness of inside the wooden shack they almost looked glazed over with a murky film, as in death. "Getting anxious? Can't wait for the kill? You're as bad as the man you just bested." He snorted, looked down at his feet, and shook his head, "You're as bad as them knuckleheads." He suddenly smiled again and looked up at her. "Missy, you'll just sit and wait till dawn. If you sleep, you sleep. If not, let's hope you don't find a amn that knows how to use a sword." Raken laughed, "That, lucky for you, you'll be hard pressed to find." He turned, now laughing harder as if he had told an excellent joke, and went back to his corner, where he slept on the moldy, craggy wooden floor.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

The sun was still hidden behind even the smallest hills, but its rays of life - giving light were visible along the horizon. But the rays did not penetrate the dark mounds of clouds in the sky above. A storm was coming. A storm of rain and lightening, and a storm of wild men. All on the poor little town just across the River Isen. Raken stood just outside of the wooden shack, the horse - hide door behind hanging behind him.

The storm comes, little ones! With no mercy, with wrath and ruin, and the tearing of flesh! "We come!" he yelled out loud, screaming at the sun and storm clouds. "The wild men of the hills!" Then he threw back his head and howled a long note like a wolf at the moon. He was answered with howls from within the shack. His men were risen, ready for battle. Raken stepped back from the entrance, examining his sword, covered in cracks and scratches, and his newly polished axe, and his dagger, dipped in poison only that morning. He smirked at the crazed men running out of the shack, whooping and growling like a pack of dogs. Then walked out Mara, gracefully, but the grace of a swordsman, not of a lady. She was always poised on the verge of attack. How else did anyone survive?

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

They had been travelling for a few hours and were almost to the southern end Misty Mountains. Raken turned back to examine the motly crew he led. All were shaggy and grimy, covered in probably a month's worth of filth. Most carried axes, usually meant for chopping wood. Some had halves of swords, a few even had whole ones, though in the worst condition. One or two had a bow and some arrows, maybe with some of Raken's poison on the tips, but for the most part, it was axes and clubs, though those were deadly enough in those men's hands. Plus, a few had stuck some bones in the wooden clubs to tear the skin. Raken was happy with his right hand man, Durvik, who had an axe and club, but also his special hook. It was a mixture of bone and metal attached to a short, thick stick. On the tip of the curve was another smaller and sharper hook. it was very effective in tearing skin and hide.

But, Raken was not at all happy with the rest. At times, they were useful, being crazed berserkers who felt little pain in battle until they died. Now, too many were looking at Mara, with a hungry sort of stare. He did not like it at all. They weren't quick enough for that girl, and they've never known any women like her, they'll never know till their dead. That sodbrain Fegnash will never have the guts to tell anyone she can actually hurt one of them. He snorted, chuckling under his breath. Hurt? Kill more like it. She had the knife to his mangy throat! Mara was at the front with him, but, as always, a few good paces away. "Well, girl, I hope your waiting pays off. We'll come to the river soon." He paused, smiling cheerfully at her, "Oh, yeah, hope you can swim. If not, I'm sure Fegnash would be happy to help you across." The look on Mara's face was murderous. She automatically reached for her knife, but calmed herself before she did anything drastic. "I can swim. I'm surprised any of you and your group of hairy sons of dogs can do anything but spit, gamble, growl, and beat something bloody." Raken howled with laughter, gripping his stomach. "Well now, you're right. A good description of this lot, but, you only have to add swimming on to their list of abiltities. That's it, I promise. On, and don't worry about me, used to be a sailor, missy."

"A sailor?" Mara said, laughing in disbelief, "Then that must mean you aren't really a Dunlending."

"Well, I am," Raken told her, "Half. My father took my mother away from here and way to the east and south, all the way to the Harad. Yep, my father was a corsair down there, if you know what that is. And he raised me as one, but then I got sick him. And he had money he wasn't letting me and my mother have, so I killed him. I guess he taught me too well, or I learned too quick for him." Raken laughed, "My mother brought me back here and I lived here the rest of my life." He pulled out a pouch from around his neck, hidden under his shirt. From it, he took out a tiny sheep - skin container for liquid. "I still have some of the blood. Man, he spilled out a lot of it, he did."

"Family matters" Mara said to him, her eyes burning with anger, disgust, and most of all loathing. "I ought to teach you a lesson about that, but you'd set your filthy henchmen on me soon as breathe. I am so glad that you aren't a proper Dunlending. The less I have in common with you, the better."

Raken howled with laughter as she spat at him. "I wonder what you know of family," he said as if to himself, still laughing.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

They crossed the river by the time the sun was high in the sky. The men sweated from the heat, running at a moderate pace. The smells got worse because of the perspiration, but Raken was used to it and Mara had smelt worse. Of course the men was used to it. The storm was almost to the town. Both storms were. It seemed too perfect, they could arrive just as the rain did. But what did that matter? There were Rohan to be killed. Raken had his fire starters, the village would burn and no rain would stop the flames. They reached the village about an hour later, standing on a small rise looking over it. They gather atop it, and a low growl rose among them. At first it was just a hum, then a snarl, then the growling of a dog, and finally, it rose to the howl of a wolf. The villagers were screaming, running out of houses. Most knew what this meant. The Dunlendings howled and laughed, until one called above the rest, "Blood! Ruin! Wrath! Tear the flesh! Revenge!" Then the men charged, screaming all the way, "Revenge!" Their clubs, spikes, axes, swords were raised and they whirled them through the air carelessly. So the storm hit. So the thunder rolled. The rain came down, red with blood. The storm came and lay ruin.

[ April 22, 2003: Message edited by: Durelin ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Mara fumed. Sent to bed like a little girl? We'll see about that. With the best grace she could muster she sat down, pointedly not loking at Raken to see if he stayed or went. Sleep was a long time coming, but eventually it came, with fitful dreams and nightmares.

Before the sun rose she awoke again, to see Raken stalking through the door. He wouldn't think to leave me behind, now would he? She wondered, getting up and sheathing her long knife. Silently she crept to the door past the still sleeping men (if that could describe the lumbering fools) and saw Raken had paused a little way ahead of her. "We come" he screamed and started to howl. Mara shivered. Surely he was a madman?
A smile spread over her face. A madman was easier to beat, and easier to part with his money...

They walked. The repetitive movements bored Mara but she kept going with the men, ignoring their glances. They all looked as if they could do with a good bath, shave, haircut... She shivered again in disgust as one approached her. He was a small, weasel faced man with some shade of brown hair, though that could have been the dirt. He reached out to her, perhaps trying to see if she was really there. The last woman he saw was probably his mother. And she must have thrown him out for being ugly! she thought. The smile it brought to her face obviously had the wrong effect for he came closer.

"Mara" he said "You and Raken, whats between you?"
She looked forward consideringly.
"I'd say about 30 paces, weasel" she said.
"He in't right for a woman" continued the man "He don't care for no-one but that Eye of his"
"Eye?" she asked, confused.
"I in't sure quite what it is, me dear, but I know it's a 'uge eye. And he's pledged 'is life to it"
"To an eye?" Mara asked in disbelief. Laughter burbled up in her throat. Encouraged, the man stepped towards her and put an arm on her shoulder. Not bothering to say anything she unsheathed her knife and ran it slowly over his fingers. Then she walked faster, catching up to Raken. His friends seemed to avoid their leader, none walking within ten paces of him.

Raken turned after a while, addressing her. It was all she could do not to laugh. An Eye? she thought again. Certainly a madman.
"Well, girl, I hope your waiting pays off. We'll come to the river soon. Oh, yeah, hope you can swim. If not, I'm sure Fegnash would be happy to help you across."
Fegnash? she wondered idly I wonder which one that was?
Automatically she touched her knife, more to remind him that she could deal with his men herself than anything else.

"I can swim. I'm surprised any of you and your group of hairy sons of dogs can do anything but spit, gamble, growl, and beat something bloody" she answered as calmly as she could.
Mara watched in amazement as Raken began to laugh. It seemed most unlikely coming from him.

"Well now, you're right. A good description of this lot, but, you only have to add swimming on to their list of abiltities. That's it, I promise. On, and don't worry about me, used to be a sailor, missy."
"A sailor?" she asked. Liar!"Then that must mean you aren't really a Dunlending."
"Well, I am, Half. My father took my mother away from here and way to the east and south, all the way to the Harad. Yep, my father was a corsair down there, if you know what that is. And he raised me as one, but then I got sick him. And he had money he wasn't letting me and my mother have, so I killed him. I guess he taught me too well, or I learned to quick for him. My mother brought me back here and I lived here the rest of my life."
Mara yawned, she had stopped listening half way through. Only the mention of killing his father caught her attention. She felt sick when he waved the blood at her.

"Family matters" she said, eyes flashing at him. "I ought to teach you a lesson about that, but you'd set your filthy henchmen on me soon as breathe. I am so glad that you aren't a proper Dunlending. The less I have in common with you, the better."
Deliberately she stopped and spat at his feet, then sped ahead to cross the river.

The lands of the Horsemen are there! she thought excitedly. Every battle against them made her feel good, those theives and vultures, growing fat off land that should have been Dunland. It will be ours again she thought and a smile slid across her face that had nothing to do with amusement.

[ April 21, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[Orual]

"The Misty Mountains," Andunériel announced, pulling her horse to a halt. Anson stared up at the mountain range in shock. He had never seen anything so big. He couldn't imagine crossing them, but they would have to.

They rode up to the base of the mountain. "I'll go up ahead," Anson said. "I can scout out ways, and anywhere I can't fit, the horses surely--"

"No!" The exclamation was chorused throughout the entire company, and Anson smiled sheepishly. "Not after your prank with the raft," Marsilion added, giving the hobbit a look that ended any discussion.

"We'll take our fortune together, or our misfortune," Andunériel said firmly. "Get back up, Anson. You don't know how to climb mountains."

Grumbling, Anson complied. This would not be an easy trip, and starting it with an argument would not do.

"Would there be any way for us to be over in two or three days?" Anson asked.

Andunériel paused for a moment, then nodded. "If we ride hard, we can be over in two days. We'll have to watch for rockslides, but we can do it in two days."

Anson nodded. "We should do that. We need to get to Fangorn as quickly as possible."

"Two days, people," Andunériel called over her shoulder. Anson saw the company nodding grimly. "Hard riding and little sleep will have to be our plan, but we have no time to waste."

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Marsilion shifted uncomfortably in the saddle as Anduneriel and Anson discussed the trip over the pass. Exchanging quick glances with Elen and Gondolin, he nudged Firien forward behind the leaders. How far the horses could go in the mountains was something Marsilion was unwilling to guess. Firien, his horse, was valuable, and precious to him. Tightening his mouth, he thought of his family, more precious by far, and ultimately decided not to argue about the horse.

Their climb into the mountains went quickly the first day, and by the time they were ready to camp they were high above the plains of Eriador. With the hobbits still riding, they reached a camping place together and stopped.

Gondolin built a fire, while the rest went about the small chores of making camp. Marsilion stood quietly, and put his fingers to the place in his shoulder where the wolf had bitten. The stiffness had nearly gone when they reached Glanduin, but during his swim in the river it had opened up again. It was hot to the touch and throbbing. Marsilion bit his lip.

Elen had been watching him from a short distance away. She came up to him, looking worriedly into his face. "Marsilion, is your arm hurting again?" she asked quietly.

Marsilion turned his face toward the horse.
"No. It's fine." he answered. He felt Elen's fingers on his other arm, and he pulled it away. There was no time to be injured or sick on this trip. He'd been hurt in the wild before, with no healer elf to fix it, it would mend itself.

"Marsilion, tell Anduneriel." Elen told him. The ranger didn't reply. "Tell her." she repeated one more time, before going about her business. Marsilion moved his hand to gently rub his aching shoulder. Maybe he'd tell Anduneriel. Maybe not.

[Arien]

"...Tell her!"

She walked away shaking her head. How could you be so stubborn? wondered Elen. Knowing that she would have not even told anyone even if she had a broken wrist.

She went an sat down by the fire where everyone was eathing their own little bits of food. Elen really wasn't that hungry so she decided to leave her food until they really needed it. She looked into the flickering flames, the smell was not so bad up here, it was fresher. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and lent her head against her knees.

She fell asleep like this, and for a while sat in peaceful dream until the morning when
Anduneriel got them all up.

"Come on it will take us one more day to get over, and if we start now we will be at the otherside brfore nightfall." she said.

The company rose, the same people carrying the hobbits and the set of once again.

[Himaran]

Gondolin trudged alongside Marsillison, sensing the pain radiating from his friend. "You really ought to have that arm checked out."

The ranger shrugged. "Its not that bad, I'll just have to put up with it."

But Gondolin knew that every member of the company would need to be in their fitest condition for the road ahead. He could smell trouble. Evil was abroad, somewhere in the plains of Rohan. He flipped out one of his knives and spun it idly on one of his fingers. Whatever the threat was, he would be ready.

They were now in the heart of the misty
mountains, and soon to come to Rohan on the far side. It was dangerous territory, filled with wargs and Dunlendings; along with the occansional orc raiding party from the mountains. The countryside was tough, like the people that lived there.

The elve's thoughts were interrupted by the distant sound of a rumble. Surprised, he looked up the side of the mountain, where his keen eyes soon spotted the danger approaching the company.

[Orual]

"...and the horses, Andunériel. We can't expect them to go on forever on this terrain."

"I know that. I know more about horses than you do. We're taking it hard on them, but it won't kill them."

Anson glowered at the Elf. Tensions were running high on the second day of their journey, with the companions weary and achy, dirty and cross. Anson was saddlesore like he had never thought he could be, and he was hot and cold in alternating flashes; he would sweat, and the cold wind would gust, chilling him. He just hoped he didn't get sick.

Despite Andunériel's guess, it would probably be a third day before they were in Fangorn. None of them were happy about that, but Anson was downright foul-tempered because of it. He had spent the whole day arguing with Andunériel about their plans. They should dismount; they had to stay on the horses; they had to ride harder, they could not waste another day; they could not press the horses any more. The whole day spent like this. It was some entertainment for the others, but Anson and Andunériel had not a civil word for each other, and it strained the entire company.

Out of the corner of his eye Anson saw Gondolin turning around in his saddle, staring intently at the craggy rocks behind them. A question was half-formed on his tongue when the Elf cried out, "Rockslide!"

Anson lurched in the seat when Andunériel's horse skidded as she heeled him on. "Ride! Follow me!" she cried. Anson hung on tight as they raced down the narrow mountain path.

The sounds of boulders bouncing off of boulders and gravel crunching under the horses' hooves followed the company on their descent. Anson was knocked on the head by a sharp errant piece of rock, and a piercing pain rocked him. "Hold fast, Anson!" Andunériel called. He heard a few cries behind him as his companions were likewise attacked.

They were finally at the base of the mountain, on the eastern side, and the only remainder of the slide was loose gravel beneath their feet as they dismounted. Andunériel surveyed the group concernedly. "Is anyone badly hurt?"

[ April 22, 2003: Message edited by: Orual ]

[Himaran]

Gondolin had been virtually untouched during the rockslide, except for one boulder that had missed him narrowly. Most of the others appeared to be unharmed as well.

The group had reached the base of the mountain. In the south, Gondolin could pick out the eaves of Fangorn forest, their ultimate destination. The elf wondered why he had such a foreboding sense, one that told him clearly to stay clear of Rohan.

[ April 22, 2003: Message edited by: Himaran ]

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Marsilion clung for dear life as Firien bolted after Anduneriel's horse. Ferdibrand riding behind Marsilion gave a frightened shriek, whether at the horse's sudden movement or at the fall of rocks clattering down the mountain wall at the company, Marsilion didn't know.

The ranger tried to guide the horse close to the mountain wall in hopes that the larger rocks would bounce outward toward the cliff. Fortunately, they did. Firien jumped as a sharp shard of rock cut her flank, and Ferri clung like a leech to Marsilion's waist, terrified by the lurching of the horse.

As the company cleared the last of the slide, as though making a parting shot, a fist sized rock struck Marsilion in the left arm. Gasping with pain he clapped his right hand over the wound in his shoulder. He bit his lip, touching the place gingerly with his fingertips. It was bleeding again.

"Is anyone badly hurt?" Anduneriel called from the front of the group, a worried look on her face. Swallowing his pride Marsilion met her eyes.

"Not serious, Anduneriel, but a bandage and some herbs perhaps... I think it's infected." He lifted his hand from the shoulder of his tunic and showed the small amount of blood that had come through. The elven woman dismounted lightly and waited for Marsilion to do the same before coming to him and touching the shoulder lightly with her fingertips.

After a closer inspection she applied some herbs to it and bound it tightly. "You should have come to me before." she said sternly. "We need everyone at their full strength for this journey."

"Yeah! With both your arms!" Ferri chimed in cheekily. Marsilion nodded sheepishly, feeling like a reprimanded child, but couldn't help casting a grin back at Ferri where he still sat on Firien's back.

[Arien]

Elen felt a searing pain in her left arm, it hung limply by her side. It had been hit by several rocks in the slide and she suspected it was dislocated. She felt her elbow and there was a gap where the bone should have been. It was dislocated. It was very heavy and it could not be lifted, it just hung. She released her hand from around her former elbow and took Nimroch’s reins. Elen couldn’t believe it, she would be useless now, what was the point of continuing . But when the she- elf asked if anyone was hurt she kept silent. She could ride with one arm and she would just have to wait until they made camp and then she would tell Andunériel otherwise she would be holding the company up. For now she would bare the pain and act as she always did.

The continued down the mountain path, which was getting more gentle.

“Elen are you hurt?” said a small voice.

She jumped, Elen had forgotten that Peony was sitting behind her. She had been so quiet, “ what makes you think that?” she said in a feeble attempt to drag her injured arm on to her lap.

Peony watched it swing back down and Elen cursed, “ that!” she said pointing at Elen’s arm.

“Yes well..”

“You should tell Andunériel, otherwise she will get cross.”

“I know but I will tell her when we make camp, I don’t want to be trouble!”

“You know there is no point being stubborn or trying to be a hero!”

“I know, I know…”

[Himaran]

Gondolin walked over to Marsillion, a hint of a smile covering his usually placid features. "Finally having that arm attended to, good ranger."

The man nodded sheepishly, then winced as the bandage was tightened. "I'll live, its a deep cut; but not that deep. It should be fine in a few days."

When Anunderial was finished wrapping it, the ranger stood, testing it. "A fine bandage indeed. My compliments, good elf."

Gondolin motioned him aside from the company. They walked away, onto a small path. Gondolin sat down on a small rock, looking out over the plains of Rohan. "Friend, I think that we may have more trouble down there than our company will expect. I have had a strange feeling lately, one of a foreboding evil. We must be careful, and have weapons at hand during the remainder of our journey."

The ranger tested his blade on his hand. "Well, if it comes to fighting, I will be ready for it."

Gondolin stood then, and looked him in the eye. "Aye, and so will I. But remember, we are not going down there to fight a war. Our mission is to find the flowers. It is also our duty, friend, to protect the hobbits. They can fight, but they are farmers; not warriors."

Marsillion nodded. "Yes, but I hope that it will never come to that; a true battle against orcs or dunlendings."

As they returned to camp, Gondolin murmered to himself; "So do I, friend. So do I."

[maikafanawen]

Peony held on as Elen’s horse sidestepped the rockslide, keeping her eyes shut and hoping that it would end at any second. Finally the rubble subsided and the dust cleared. Anunderial’s voice called out from the front asking if anyone was injured. No one answered back right away, but Marsilion confessed of having a bit of a wound on his shoulder. Peony signed and loosened her grip, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Honestly, like we don’t have enough to worry about, Eru had to send a damned rockslide!

“All right here.” She leaned forward, “Elen, are you hurt?”

“What makes you think that?” Elen winced as she moved her arm. Peony rolled her eyes and pointed to where her elbow was.

“That!”

“Yes well…”

“You should tell Andunériel, otherwise she will get cross.” Peony said, adjusting her dress and scooting back a bit on the horse.

“I know but I will tell her when we make camp, I don’t want to be trouble.” Peony raised her eyebrows and looked at Elen through narrowed eyes.

“You know there is no point being stubborn or trying to be a hero! That’s the trouble with the bigger races—”

“I know, I know…” said Elen, cutting off Peony. If they would only stop for a second and look upon their situations realistically then there wouldn’t be so many problems. They’re always so bloody noble and brave. Peony sighed and waited patiently while Elen dismounted. Peony swung her leg around and jumped before Elen could protest. She hit the ground with a nice thump, and landed on her bottom. The hobbit looked up at the woman and gave a big smile.

“Ouch?” Elen laughed and went to see Andunériel about her arm. Peony stood and brushed off her skirt. Then she looked back up to where her bag still hung from the horse’s saddle. “Oh foo.” Sighing, she stuffed her hands in her pockets and went to be of some use.

[Orual]

"Fangorn is just ahead," Anson announced, still grimacing from the foul-tasting concoction that Andunériel had forced upon him for the knock on his head. His first glimpse of the forest, however, put all of that out of his mind.

It loomed ahead, dreary and dark and ominous. He had not liked the look of the Old Forest, but this was a hundred times worse. A thousand. But he thought of Violet and Della and Rudy and the rest of them, and suddenly it didn't seem so impossible anymore.

Step by step, the forest got closer. He did not feel the creeping sensation on his arms that he got when he went by the Old Forest, but the air seemed almost musty. He almost laughed aloud; the people of the Shire called their forest the Old Forest, but it was like a newborn babe compared to Fangorn. Anson could feel it. This was older than living memory. He wondered what could live in this forest, what could stand this feeling of being so insignificant; men and hobbits and even elves lived and died, and this forest still stood, unwavering, uncaring, unchanging. Like a rock in Time's river, it was still while everything around it moved. Anson shivered, suddenly cold.

"Let's get it over with," he muttered, and Peony shot him a questioning look which he ignored.

They entered Fangorn Forest.

[maikafanawen]

Peony looked dubiously into the pitch black that was Fangorn. Tall tall trees reached the sky, and thick, gnarled branches seemed to reach out like hands, beckoning them into the forest. No wind rustled the leaves, and the air was very dense. Anson shivered involuntarily, and others of the company walked rigidly. All of them were tense, terrified at the idea of walking into the doomsday forest. Peony chuckled, trying to break the moment.

“You guys look like you think one of the trees is going to just start moving about and talking to you or something.” Andunériel shot the hobbit a look that clearly said ‘hush up’. Elen stooped down and whispered into Peony’s ear.

“Have you ever heard of Ents?” Peony wrinkled her brow and shook her head slowly.

“Then maybe you should just be quiet and follow--silently!" Peony rolled her eyes and followed Elen into the forest.

“It’s just a bunch of trees,” she mumbled. Elen looked down at her sternly and raised a finger to her lips.

“Shh!” Then, a creepy crawly feeling tingled the back of Peony’s neck and the sides of her arms. There definitely seemed to be something weird about this forest, and Peony wasn't sure she liked it very much at all.

[ April 25, 2003: Message edited by: maikafanawen ]

[Durelin]

The screams surrounded Raken, and the roars of his men. Blood sprayed him, he slashed without thought, only with pleasure. He chose to use his axe, most likely his favorite weapon because of the large gashes it made. He slashed and hacked at the blonde peasants, all the while laughing with uncontrollable mirth. In almost every cut he went for the stomach. He loved slicing it open, found so much joy in the blood and innards flowing out, covering him. He also would go for the head, not decapitation - that was too clean and quick - but causing a gash across the fash, perhaps popping the eyeball or gouging it out. Then a bold peasant came up behind him with a woodcutting axe, a cheap thing, weak, and so was the man holding it. Raken whirled around with his axe, bending his head down at the same time to dodge the peasant's wild swing, then swung with his own axe, slicing through the man's legs. A quick cut along the neck and the man of Rohan fell to the ground, a heap of bloody, mangled flesh.

A glimpse of movement to the right of him, and Raken lashed out with his axe, cutting a deep gash across a woman's chest. In the same movement he drew his knife, driving it through her eye. He was deaf to the screams. Then he noticed a small child she had carried, now dropped on the ground. Drawing out his knife from the woman's head he threw it sharply, right through the chest of the child. Another whirl, this time to his left, brought Raken face to face with a man. He swung his axe. But there was no blonde hair, it was dark hair. He stopped in mid swing, only just scraping his fellow Dunlending in the side. "Sorry Gunif," he said, laughing. "How's the killing going? Any resistance?" Gunif grunted, Raken took it as a 'no'.

"You got flint?" Raken asked, "I know I gave some of you beefheads some." Gunif grunted again, this time a 'yes'.

"Good, give it here. I'd like to do this myself. Oh, and find Mara. She'll want to burn some too." Gunif grunted, giving Raken the flint and jogging off to find the girl. Raken strode over to the nearest pile of straw, taking his time, walking arrogantly as if he were a prince in his domain, laughing at the little commoners who bowed before him. He was sure that they should be bowing before him. Well, some of them were sprawled before him, if not of their own will. Grinning, Raken bent down before a pile of straw and began striking the flint until he got sparks. The dry hay immediately created a small blaze. It would spread quickly enough on its own, but Raken picked up a handful of burning straw, not caring of the flames licking his skin, and threw it on top of the nearest house. The fire spread.

Raken looked around him, admiring the handiwork. Mangled corpses scattered all over the ground, lying in pools of blood and the sickly mush of entrails. He smiled, licking his lips, and saw another fire starting farther down the dirt street running through the town. Mara, most likely. He put his axe over his shoulder and strolled down the street, cutting down any peasants still trying to flee, and those few who were foolish enough to fight back.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

They reached the Rohirrim village as the storm broke overhead and rain pourerd down. There had to have been some sort of acouts out as they reached the village to find pandemonium, people milling around and screaming. Mara smiled grimly to herself as she began to kill. With the men she found it easiest to aim for the heart. She couldn't reach the neck on most of them, as good living on fertile soil had let them grow tall. It should be our land, OUR soil! she thought furiously, anger making her blade dart quicker.

It was harder for the women. For the most part Mara let the ones who were running, run. She only killed those who stayed to fight, but anger at their stupidity made her hit them the hardest. She ignored the children, the little ones anyway. A couple of teenage boys wanted to play at heroes, she slashed one of them in the leg- if he was found and tended he should survive. The other died. She killed automatically, her only pleasure coming from the thought that they were being punished, and the joy of using her skill. Everyone she had ever killed deserved it, anything else was pointless.

From the way Raken's cronies ran around yelling she could tell they felt differently. Mara had to kill one of them to stop him killing a little blonde girl of not more than five summers. That is no waste any more than the horsemen she thought with disgust as she watched the little girl stumble away, screaming.

One horseman managed to give her a deeper cut than the scratches she'd received from others, he died for his pains but Mara crept off the battlefield to see the damage, cursing softly. After she'd bound the cut, she began to count in her head, she had killed perhaps 20 people. She felt no pity for them- they were horsemen who had deserved death- but it seemed a waste of life, somehow. She darted back into the fray, swinging the sword. Fighting men perhaps two or three at a time made her feel alive, and she began to smile.

"Mara" she heard from behind her. Finishing off her enemy she turned to see one of Raken's louts beckoning her.
"Raken said you'd want to help out burning this place down"
Mara's smile widened. this was the best part for her. Horsemen meant nothing, but if their crops were gone they might have to leave. One day they'll be pushed back to the mountains and this will be ours again! she thought happily. She turned to follow the man back to the houses.

"Hand over the flint then" she said shortly, and he obeyed. Perhaps the other oafs have been talking she wondered with a satisfied glimpse at the man's retreating back. She gave a shiver of pleasure as she made a spark which began to smolder in someone's woodpile, and moved on, lighting a branch which she reached up to a thatched roof, then a barn. She knew that this was what she was supposed to do for the rest of her life.

[Orual]

The forest was even darker from the inside, and if anything, even more unnerving, Anson decided. He jumped every time anything made a sound, though it generally turned out to be a dead twig snapping under the feet of his companions or their horses.

They stopped at a small clearing, and Anson frowned around it while Marsilion ducked to clear a low branch. "We're about as lost as lost can be," the hobbit said fatalistically.

"We're a day into the southwest end of the forest," Luin said promptly. "I know how to get back."

"We can get back, but back isn't where we want to get," Anson replied. "We need to find this bothersome flower, and we don't know where it could possibly be. I could find a patch of kingsfoil if need be, or any other nice, normal weed you could ask for, but not this ainereg business. I wouldn't know it from crabgrass. We'd better split up; double our chances."

"Why not all go on our own and multiply our chances by nine?" Andunériel said dryly. "There's strength in numbers."

"It won't matter anyway, if we can't find the ainereg," Anson insisted. "We have to find it. And we'll find it faster if we split up. Luin, Tinüsel, Gondolin, come with me. Peony, Elenlith, Marsilion, Ferdibrand, go with Andunériel. We'll head north; the rest of you go east. We'll meet back here in three days, whether or not we've found the ainereg. If one team doesn't make it after another day, the returning team will head back for Eriador. If the second team makes it back at all, they're to return themselves." He shrugged his pack further onto his shoulder. "Let's off, then. We have another long journey ahead of us."

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Marsilion gazed around the forest cautiously. He'd never been in Fangorn before, though he'd travelled past it on a number of occasions. The air in the wood was still, and somehow heavy. Sounds were muffled, and Marsilion felt as if he was shouting every time he spoke.

When Anson suggested splitting up Marsilion nodded. The ranger looked around him, the forest was vast, empty. The group of them could look for weeks and not find that flower.

As they split up Marsilion cast a look at Anduneriel and loosened his sword in his scabbard. She raised a cautionary hand and said in a low voice, "Don't threaten the trees." Marsilion's face was grim. Forests he was used to, but this was uncomfortable. He scanned the ground for flowers with every step, the sooner they were out of this place the better, as far as he was concerned.

Anduneriel took the front, with Peony and Ferri in the middle. Marsilion and Elen took the rear. Their eyes watched all around, and for a while, nobody spoke.

[ April 27, 2003: Message edited by: Sophia the Thunder Mistress ]

[Arien]

Elen held her arm, she had managed to slip the joint back together, with emmense pain. she had almost screamed but she kept it in. She looked around fangorn, once she had been here but she didn't travel as deep into the forest. It was dark despite the fact the sun was shining above. It was all silent but for the creaking and moaning of the trees.

Eventually they came to a small crossroad in the path. They took the left as the right way would be leading them out again. As they continued it got colder and darker. Elen shivered and she could nearly see her breath infront of her. She kept at the rear next to Marsilion. They contiued to walk.

[Carlas]

The trees rustled silently, swaying with the wind that blew over the tops of the trees. The faint sound of running water was all to be heard, until...

Everwood opened his eyes. He had heard a noise that did not seem normal for this part of the forest, and by now he knew it well. He moved his branches about slightly, turning to look about the forest floor. His eyes searched about, as he tried to find where the noise was coming from. Then out of the dense trees he saw tiny figures romping about, their eyes searching the ground. He sat motionless for a second, pondering at the creatures that walked so freely through the forest, surely they must not be very smart.

They crept closer to him, and Everwood got a closer look. They were small, but they seemed to be strong and skilled, or at least most of them. He thought back trying to remember what these odd creatures were:

Learn now the lore of Living Creatures!
First name the four, the free peoples:
Eldest of all, the elf-children;
Dwarf the delver,dark are his houses;
Ent the earthborn, old as mountains;
Man the mortal,master of horses:

He thought it silently in his head and decided that the most part of the group were Men and Elves, but the smaller ones. They would surely not bring children in the forest, one would have to be such a fool! Everwood shook his head and sighed quietly, no good letting them kill themselves.

He pulled his foot out of the ground, weaving his toes out of the cool earth and stepped towards the men and elf kind. Immediatly they all jumped, most taking out their weapons and holding them up infront of the ent. Their mouths opened wide as they looked up at his tall tree-like body. For a mooment they stood dumbstruck, then they came back, holding up their weapons once again.

He looked at them and said in a deep raspy voice "Hrum, Hoom. How odd, Tis' the first time I have seen such a group enter the forest. Root and twig, very odd!"

[Manardariel]

Please Please Please let this be a bad dream. Andunériel pleaded.

But she knew it was real. In front of them, htaller than the trees around, stood an Ent.Or rather- she guessed it was an Ent. It couldn´t be a tree, trees didn´t move or talk. And they didn´t have theese eyes. These keen, dark, deep eyes, though there was but a hint of liveliness somehwere hidden in them. But apart from that it could have been a tree. It looked like a birch, pale white, tall and thin.

An ENT. She had heard much about these creatures, good and bad alike. Some spoke of wise and beautiful creatures, specially created by Yavanna herself. Andunériel belived these tales, or at least tried to do so.But somewhere in her head there were also the childhood tales of murderous, bloodthirsty trees.... no. She shook her head. Don´t think of it. She told herself. Then she acted- fast.

Put your weapons down" she hissed at the others. Bowing her head, she then turned to the Ent.

"Aiya! Lye naa lle nai" she said, hoping it would understand it. To make it clearer what she meant, she raised her hands in a gesture surrender, gesturing th others to do likewise. They followed. He stared down at them for a while.
Andunériel silently shot him messages: Come on, you understand. We are your servants. Don´t eat us...

[Carlas]

Everwood looked down at the strange men bellow. They had all lowered their weapons after one had signaled and now were all quiet. He was confused by these beings, yet they amused him, it had been a long time since he had had anyone to interact with. There was the animals and plants of the forest but that was all.

"Hrum, now who are you? Men and Elf, but such little beings," He said pointing at the two hobbits, " Not children! Hoo, such a thing is not a good idea, and seems rather hasty! But, you are not children of Men, not with ears as pointy as those, and not of Elves, feet such as these would not suite the firstborn. Hoom, such beings I do not know!"

He looked down at them, his round eyes far of in thought. They looked up at him and then to eachother, still not too sure what to say.

[Himaran]

Gondolin had been in many forests, including Ithilin and Mirkwood. Fangorn still took his breath away, both due to his awe and the stuffy nature of the forest. It was so filled with green vines, huge trees and strange plants. The elf attempted to drink all of the beauty in at once, soon finding that he was getting behind the rest of his small group.

He wondered how Marsillion and the others were fairing. Quickening his stride, he caught up with Anson. "Have you any clue to what these strange flowers look like? It is no good to get lost in this forest, while passing straight by the object of our quest."

[Orual]

Anson swatted at the thick undergrowth with the back of his hand irritably. He was hot and cold in turns, and itchy on top of it. He wished now that they hadn't split up, for some reason. He didn't like being the only one who knew where they were going, and he didn't know that well.

"Have you any clue to what these strange flowers look like? It is no good to get lost in this forest, while passing straight by the object of our quest," Gondolin commented, coming up to Anson.

Anson sighed and dug in his pack. "Andunériel gave me this sketch that she drew. Looks like any other yellow field flower to me, but nobody asked me how to design it." He thought he saw the elf grin at his grumbling, but if he had it was gone as quickly as it had come. He produced the picture. "Here it is. Pretty thing, but small. Luckily there's so much green and brown here that yellow'll stand out like a sore thumb. Andunériel said that it tends to grow around trees. The bigger the tree, the more ainereg we're likely to find. That's what she said, at least, though she's never seen it." He frowned and tucked the picture back into his pack. "I guess we have to believe her, though. She knows better than the rest of us."

Gondolin nodded solemnly, though he did not seem comforted by Anson's lack of knowledge. Then again, neither was Anson.

A shiver passed through Anson, and he peered ahead of them. A large, dark shape loomed ahead of them, and the farmer caught his breath.

"What's that?" Luin breathed. Anson shook his head slowly, as did everyone else.

"Just don't move," Anson murmured.

[ April 29, 2003: Message edited by: Orual ]

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Marsilion stumbled back at the sight of the ent. These things were rumors in his mother's bedtime stories, not things living men met in real forests. His sword, which he'd been holding loose in the scabbard slid back into the sheath as Marsilion let go of it slowly.

The creature stared at the hobbits from large deep eyes. " Not children! Hoo, such a thing is not a good idea, and seems rather hasty! But, you are not children of Men, not with ears as pointy as those, and not of Elves, feet such as these would not suite the firstborn. Hoom, such beings I do not know!" it said, as though none of them were there.

Marsilion glanced at Anduneriel, who looked as baffled as he felt. Silence began to resettle in the forest around them, like a heavy blanket. Marsilion, not wanting to remain in silence, was relieved when Anduneriel called out to it in elvish. He mimicked her gesture and waited. Is it friend or foe? he wondered, futilely, for if it was foe they were outmatched to begin with.

[Arien]

Elen stared up at the Ent, it was massive. She had never seen one before and though she hated to admit it she was scared. Very scared. She grabbed the nearest thing to her and clung onto it tightly digging her nails in. Andunériel contiuned to talk to it in elvish, but the ent stood silently. Listening thought Elen hopefully. As the ent stayed silent, the company exchanged confused and anxious glances at one another. She turned to her side and realised it was Marsilion's arm she had grabbed onto. She withdrew it quickly and gave him an awkard smile.

"Sorry..." she turned round to face the ent who still was silent waiting for a reply.

"Hobbits, they are hobbits...er...ent." she said, not knowing its name she decided to call it ent, which was probably rude but she could not take it back now. Elen now whished she had not said anything, for the ent still silent. She shot a pleading look at Peony wanting her to say something.

"Yes, er..Hobbits. From the Shire." she said boldly. "Some know us as halflings." she stopped as the ent slowly rustled his leaves.

"Hobbits?" it said.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Arien ]

[Carlas]

[Greendale]

"What's that?" Luin breathed. Anson shook his head slowly, as did everyone else.
"Just don't move," Anson murmured.

Quiet whispers wafted through the still and cool air. Though they talked as quieted as they could, the forest was hushed about them, and their talking echoed through the forest, waking one not-so-happy ent.

As Greendale opened his eyes, he noticed some small creatures on the floor of the forest, who had now stopped walking and were standing silently watching. He had been sleeping as some might say, and was not too happy to be woken up, but he sat patiently, preferring not to be careless.

After a few moments they started walking again, though more alert. They advanced slowly, getting closer and closer to thesoundless Greendale. He watched unspeaking, deciding what to do about the small group below.


[Everwood]


"Yes, er..Hobbits, from the Shire. Some know us as halflings." One of the smaller folk said straining her neck to look at the ent.

He pondered for a moment before speaking. "Hobbits? I have never heard of a hobbit! Hoom, how strange, never have I once heard of such folk. And from The Shire you say? Hmmm, how odd..."

The group below watched as he lapsed into silence once again. They looked at eachother, not too sure what to do next.

[Manardariel]

Andunériel doubtfully looked at the Ent. Was he trying to tell them something? Would he be mad if she interrupted? She caught Peony´s eye, who looked just as doubtfull. She decided to risk it.

"Excuse me, Lord..."

He loooked down at her. "And you are...?" She bowed. "My name is Andunériel of Rivendell. These are my companions Marsillion, Elenlith (though we mostly call her Elen) and Peony Fields. We come from Eriador, and would not have come to your lands if it would not have been an emergency."

She peered up at him, waiting for a reaction with bated breath.

[Himaran]

Gondolin had expected to see many great and strange things during this quest, but the ent still amazed him. He had learned much about them, as he was enthralled by anything to do with the forests.

As the rest of the group stood motionless, he stepped forward slowly, until he was standing ten feet from the ent. He flipped out his knives and left them sticking in the ground, a signal of his friendliness.

"Hail, ent. We come in peace. My name is Gondolin, and this is our leader, Anson." The elf was not sure if his bold action would have positive results, but he could only hope that the strange creature was friendly.

[Orual]

Anson glanced gratefully at Gondolin. He had been so surprised at the appearance of the Ent that he had not been able to speak. He shrugged his pack onto his shoulder, and took a step forward to beside Gondolin.

He took a deep breath to speak, but it was a struggle. Regrets flashed through his mind--he should have never left Hobbiton, he told himself--but it was too late for that. He bowed deeply. "My good Ent, I am, as my friend Gondolin has said, Anson Hornblower, farmer of the Shire. I have come here to find the ainereg plant, which is the only thing that can save my land from the plague that is ripping it apart. We are unfamiliar to this place, but this is your forest. We beg of you to help us find the plant." Anson abruptly stopped talking, fearing that he had said too much, or had said it too boldly. He waited anxiously for the Ent's reply.

[Carlas]

[Greendale]

"My good Ent, I am, as my friend Gondolin has said, Anson Hornblower, farmer of the Shire. I have come here to find the ainereg plant, which is the only thing that can save my land from the plague that is ripping it apart. We are unfamiliar to this place, but this is your forest. We beg of you to help us find the plant."

Greendale looked at the small creatures on the ground watching him silently. This was more than just a little unusual, even elves had stopped coming here often. To have a group such as this come into the forest was not one of the smartest ideas, but they seemed to be in need. If it hadn't have been urgent they would not be here at all.

"Hrum, I cannot say that coming into Fangorn forest was a good idea. It is dangerous, maybe not so much here, but the plant that you seek is deeper in, and if an ent did not accompany you, you are surely not coming back!

The group looked at one another, feeling a little uncomfortable at this point. Greendale smiled and bent down a little, though he was still as stiff as a board.

"Do not be troubled. Hoom, I can take you to the ainereg if you wish, if you tell me a bit about your country...The Shire did you say?" The folk below nodded slowly, straining their necks to look up at the ent. " The ainereg goes by many names, and ainereg is not commonly known by ents, but I have studied the plants of this forest. You are in luck!

He smiled at them, stretching his branches by his sides. It had been a long time.

[Everwood]

"My name is Andunériel of Rivendell. These are my companions Marsillion, Elenlith (though we mostly call her Elen) and Peony Fields. We come from Eriador, and would not have come to your lands if it would not have been an emergency."

The ent looked at them for a moment, not wanting to be too quick.

" Hrum, what sort of emergency would bring you here?" He asked, more than a little interested.

"Well" answered one of them. "We are looking for plant that will heal our lands of a terrible disease. It is the Ainereg that we seek inorder to save it. That is why we have come."

The ent once again went into a silent lapse of thought. Searching his memory for the plant Ainereg, but he could not remeber anything about it.

" Little friends, I can not remeber any mention of a plant named the Ainereg in this forest. Hoom, are you sure that is its proper name?"

The small group looked at eachother, not sure what to say to this.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Carlas ]

[Durelin]

Most of the village was burning by now, and all the villagers were dead or had fled. Raken decided it was time for them to move on. They had to make it to the Misty Mountains to ambush the company returning from Fangorn. But, Raken was disappointed; the fun had barely lasted a quarter of an hour. "Dunlendings!" he cried, "Killing now comes to an end! Later it will begin again!" That was the cry Raken and his followers used to signal the end of a raid. It was like a ritual; every time it was the same, beginning and ending.

The dark haired, dark eyed, swarthy men, bloodstained and grimy, came running from all different places, including burning buildings to where Raken stood arrogantly in front of a burning building. Following them came Mara, walking gracefully and proudly across the bloody, body filled ground. The men gathered around Raken; Mara stood off to one side looking uninterested. "We move on. We've gotta reach the Misty Mountains soon if we're gonna get the Ainereg. It's a little less than a sixteen mile trip. And, of course, we have to climb at the end. We need to be high enough to see the little walking party come outa the forest."

Raken paused to look at Mara, the Dunlendings cheering for some reason. "You still up fer the job, missy?"

"More than you ever will be you son of a cow. You and your pig brained louts would never have been so succesful in this raid if I hadn't been here."

"Oh, is that true?" Raken said mockingly, grinning broadly. "But I heard that you were the one saving the little children. You certainly helped...nits breed lice missy! Learn it well!" His grin was gone, fury burned in his eyes.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Mara shrugged. "Perhaps they do" she said, for once not getting angry. It was a discussion she had had before. "If we do our job and kill all the adults in these villages then the children will have to leave- they can't live alone, can they? We only want our land back. And anyway, it's no fun killing the children, they can't fight back"

Suddenly she frowned around at the men.
"Are you bringing your pets?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "They share your profits, remember.
With a smile that didn't touch her eyes she began to walk off.
"Not coming?" she asked after a while, turning back.
Raken growled and followed, soon catching up.

He opened his mouth to speak and she turned to him, eyes flashing and dagger drawn.
"This time remember that I can kill you. I might die doing it, but I can certainly take you with me. Do not address me 'Missy' again"
Raken began to laugh, the same manical, hysterical laugh as before. It had no trace of humour in it.

Mara began to walk faster. Raken kept up easily but didn't try to speak again for a long time. He kept chuckling under his breath, which irritated Mara.
"What are you laughing at?" she finally asked, fingering the hilt of her dagger. "I heard something amusing, too. I heard that you follow a giant eye!"
She doubled over, laughing disbelievingly.
"What of it?" Raken asked, putting his knife to her throat.
Mara gasped, shocked that it was true.
He truly is mad... she thought.
She tried to disguise her fear with a sneer.
"Lunacy" she said. "Get off me, now"
Mara pulled her knife, placing it in front of Raken's chest.
"Well? Shall we kill each other, or get on? We are almost there, I belive. And you can tell me more about your precious eye..."

[Himaran]

Gondolin knew a little about ents, and one was how they were so meticulously slow in all of their movements and decisions, unless gripped by a great anger. He decided to take a chance.

"Good Ent, I am sure that we all would love to have a long chat, but with every hour the danger our loved ones in Eriador are in grows. Could you please take us to the nearest patch of Ainereg? We can talk as we go."

[Orual]

Anson was dumbstruck. It had never occured to him that the Ent might not call the plant 'ainereg'. He babbled for a moment about the Elvish translation of the word, which Andunériel had taught him, and then a little bit about various nicknames of the plant, none of which the Ent would have ever heard of.

Indeed, Greendale did not seem familiar with any of the names, and Anson was beginning to panic. He tried to describe it, but his descriptions were clumsy and inaccurate.

"My friend, I would like to help you," the Ent said patiently, "but I cannot find your plant until I know what it is."

"I'm trying," Anson cried. There was a thick silence over the group for a while, until finally Luin gave a little shout. Anson whirled around to see what she was doing when she gripped his pack and dug into it. "What in Arda...?" he exclaimed.

Luin gave another shout and produced Andunériel's sketch of the ainereg. "This is it," she said to Greendale. "Are you familiar with this plant?"

[Durelin]

"Well, we are good, aren't we?" Raken grinned at the young woman, ignoring the knife to his chest. The knife to her throat was steady. "Kill each other? Why not? Life's pleasures are so simple, they will hardly be missed. Death can give me more." He was still smiling, a smile full of mirth that didn't fit, nothing reaching his cold eyes that seemed already dead. Mara shuddered, if barely visibly, but Raken caught it, and it made him laugh all the more.

"The Eye, eh? Who told you about that?" Raken snorted, it was stupid to ask such a question. "Of course, one of those louts," he said gesturing behind him to the dirt covered men with wild dark hair. "I have sworn my life to him. Sauron. He is the one who will give Dunlendings power. He will give us back our land. He is the Lord of the Dead, he will lay ruin to all and rise up above it. Those who stand with him will receive all glory. Those who do not, will die a thousand deaths. He is the key to life, and I have sworn my life to him. I now walk freely, with my lord behind me, and his heavanly power! All cry out in fear and anguish as he draws their blood, while I cry out in joy, in triumph! A new day will come, and the shadow will reign! I will obtain everlasting life!"

Raken finished his words in crazed crys, his eyes closed, smiling, as if savoring the words. The time would come, and even in death, he would have power. He was sure of it. His tongue now sounded so cultured, it was unnatural. Did he hide his intelligence, or was he that mad? The man lived for death and power alone. Vengeance he thrived on, murder soothed him, and his own death would not stand in the way. He truly believed that his lord would rise to unimaginable power, destroying all, then ruling all to his own accord. And then, his power would stretch beyond on the earth itself, and Melkor would be freed, and both would rule both the land of the living and the dead. Those worthy would be immortal.

[Carlas]

[Greendale]

After taking some time trying to explain what the ainereg plant looked like, with little success, Anson Hornblower, took a small crumpled picture from a pack of one of the others."Are you familiar with this plant?"

Greendale bent down, and looked at the small picture that Anson was holding up as high as his small arms would let him. Greendale looked at it for a couple of minutes and then smiled broadly.

"Hoom, yes I know this plant! It is not too far from here, I can take you now if you wish!" The group nodded below smiling, glad to know they would be able to find it and get back to their land.

Greendale looked at them and then about the forest floor."This is all of you correct?" The small band looked at eachother and back at Greendale frowning slightly. Greendale took the hint.

"So there are more of you? We should best find them soon. Hrum, I do not want to know what could happen to them!" At this the group went pale, becoming very worried for there friends. Greendale asked them where they had split up and which direction they had been headed in. Anson and the others replied quickly, getting more and more nervous.

"Hmmmm, I think I know where your friends might have ended up, if nothing has happened to them. Come let us go. And try to keep up, ent strides are much longer than any of yours!" He headed of and the small group followed behind, trying to keep up with Greendale's massive steps.

[Everwood]

Everwood tried in vain to remeber any plant such as the ainereg, but there were too many to be sure which one it was. They had narrowded it down quite a bit, but there were far too many plants in Fangorn forest. After quite some time they stopped, not sure what to do next.

"Hoom, I am sorry I could not be of much help, perhaps if I think a little longer it will come to me, go rest for a bit, I shall be here." And he walked over to a small patch of light and stood there motionless.

The rest of the group sat down and talked amongst eachother about how to better explain the ainereg. "If only we had the drawing, we could just show the ent." one said during the discussion. They all looked about at eachother and sighed, this was taking longer than they had planned.

After a long time of complete silence they heard a quiet sound coming from the earth. It was a sort of thumping, as if something was coming towards them. They looked over at Everwood as he opened his eyes and looked through the overgrown landscape. In the distance they saw a large figure coming towards them. They stood up holding their weapons infront of them, posed and ready. But as it came closer they noticed smaller figures as well, and their weapons slowly fell to their sides.

It was Anson and the others, and they had found an ent too! They ran to eachother and smiled nodding and laughing, whilst the two ents met behind them.

"Greendale! You have not gone walking for some time now! A long time now!" The two smiled, happy to see eachother once again.

"Indeed my friend "Greendale said, his eyes filled with joy." I had forgotten!"