The Hills of Evendim RPG

[Nurumaiel]

Anson cringed as the arrow buried itself in the hunter's chest and hid his eyes so he did not have to see the man topple over, his eyes staring in cold death. Gorby's arm slipped about Anson's shoulders and stayed there, silently comforting his friend.

"Perhaps," Anson murmured in as loud a voice as he dared, "it would be better if I did die on this mad quest."

"Oh no, certainly not," said Gorby briskly, trying to hide the concern that flickered in his eyes. A terrible thought hovered on the edge of his mind. Was Anson despairing?

"I've no doubt that my family will miss me," Anson continued as though he hadn't heard. "But the fact is my father won't miss me. He doesn't care for me very much, you know. I'm always so timid and weak except when it concerns my father. It isn't his fault. 'Tis mine. I argue against everything he says, even when he's right. I set a bad example for my brothers and sisters. And so maybe it would be better if I died."

"I guess it wouldn't!" Gorby cried hotly. "Indeed, Anson, your whole family loves you and sometimes you even amuse your father by your insistance on arguing with him. I've seen it before. Your mother would die of a broken heart, anyway."

Anson's eyes looked tortured. "I guess he isn't dead, but he's gone far off somewhere, and I loved my pony," he murmured. A silence fell as the three of them pondered this. They had all lost their steeds, and so in battle the first of their friends had fallen, animals though they might be.

More of their hunters drew near, and the hobbits held their breath and each other's hands, their wide, trustful eyes turned to Lira, who placed another arrow to her bow.

[Meneltarmacil]

"Come with me!" Thoronmir said to Lumiel. "Stay close!"

Both of their mounts were alright at the moment, but that could change rapidly. He made it to where the hobbits stood with Lira, with Lumiel still close by.

Thoronmir, Lumiel and their horses managed to get through the enemy lines around the hobbits and Lira. Thoronmir called to them. "Follow me! We're leaving!"

Lira and the Hobbits managed to get behind Thoronmir and his horse Brandir, but suddenly an arrow from one of the ruffians hit Brandir in the side of the head. The horse fell to the ground, pinning Thoronmir underneath. He frantically tried to get out, but couldn't move. He just barely managed to turn aside as a long knife stabbed the ground beside him. Finally getting up, he found himself, Lumiel, Gorby, Anson, and Lira surrounded.

This was all my fault. I shouldn't have led these people to their death. he thought. Well, there was no use in worrying about it now. They would just have to make as best a stand as they could here.

[littlemanpoet]

Falowik heard the call for retreat.

"Uien! Let the horses go! Leave them!" Falowik was not sure she heard him. He swung his sword again, and his blow was parried. He turned his steed and looked for Uien. He was very lucky, for the man he had engaged had followed his parry with a swing, and the Flithaf's quick movement was the only reason his head was still connected to his shoulders.

There was Uien. She had heard him. He cantered the short distance to her.

"Hop on!"

He reached down and grabbed her hand, and she jumped onto Flithaf's back behind him. She kept her head low, her arms around his middle, trying to give him all the sword swinging room he needed. Thoronmir and Lumiel were not far away. He urged Flithaf after them.

Their enemies tripped and kicked over their dead and gave chase. Were they going to make for the copse where Lira and the hobbits were? Where was Falco? He certainly didn't want the bothersome little runt killed. Flithaf was catching up to Thoronmir and Lumiel.

[Imladris]

Lira could vaguely hear the soft, faint tones of the hobbits as they murmured together in the tree. She would have told them to be still, but it didn’t really matter for, unless they were miraculously rescued, the ground would be stained with their blood before long. Already the rustles of leaves whispered of the other nine coming towards them. They would not fail to find their fallen comrade, and they would not fail to guess that the shot came from above. Tilting her head just a little, she could see Anson’s wan face, his sad eyes turned towards her. She smiled a little at them and whispered, “Fear not, little Hobbit,” as she drew another arrow to her ear.

Behind her there was a din of galloping hooves and, turning, Lira saw that it was Lumiel and Thoronmir making their way to the copse.

Swiftly they ran through the woods and into the shelter of the copse. Thoronmir’s steed had been shot from under him, pinning him to the ground. With a cry, Lira swung herself from her tree and dashed forward to help him.

After he had wriggled himself free, Lira rasied and saw that their foes had gathered in a tight circle around the copse. Their faces looked weary, and slightly frightened as they hedged themselves around the copse, unwilling to enter it. The field of battle with their corpses while their little band had somehow remained alive and still able to fight.

[littlemanpoet]

Falco felt the ground tremble with the pounding of horses' hooves. It was too dark to see much except by the faint light of the moon, but he could hear and feel it all well enough. All the Big Trouble folks galloped away and left him among his pony and the extra horses. He let the horses wander where they would and kept the reins of his pony in his hands.

Make no sound, he whispered to himself.

The enemy thundered by him and left him alone in the valley surrounded by four hills. What to do? Watch and wait. Now that all the hubbub was over, his heart had stopped beating so fast, and he realized just how tired he was. And don't fall asleep.

He got on his pony and lay close to his neck, and let him wander among the horses, aiming him in the general direction of the copse on the hill. There might be something he could do yet. Time would tell.

[Esgallhugwen]

Esgallhugwen's sword clashed with another man as Thoronmir and Lumiel sped away with Falowik, Uien and Finewen close behind. But where had that bothersome Falco gotten to? He was not close at hand and the horsemen were still coming at them.

She had no time to find him among the bodies, whether alive or dead, she knew he was no fool, or hoped he wasn't in any case. She made a dash to the copse of trees to see Thoronmir's brave horse go down on top of him.

They were surrounded. The wall of horsed men had become impenetrable, but they paused unsure as to whether or not they should make their way into the copse or keep their distance.

Four of their mounts were gone, not including Falco's, the night was upon them and the keen night vision of the Elves set in. Esgallhugwen was caked in her own blood, she refused to take the arrows from her wounds knowing that the barbed points would only make the bleeding worse.

With nimble fingers, she swiftly broke the shafts in half reducing the pull on her shoulder and thigh. Now she would be able to use her bow once more.

[Lumiel]

Escaping the mound of the newly dead as well as the main group of their foes, Lumiel followed Thoronmir closely as they made for the small copse of trees. The light of day was nearly gone with only an orange echo left of it fading to the west.

A warning in her mind caused her to draw up her mount sharply and stop, looking around. She had no time to warn Thoromir who was now nearly in the copse. In the dead light, she saw the remains of the brigands approach the copse, surrounding it. She was about to cry a warning when she heard a strangled, twisted scream of a horse and the thud as it hit the ground. "Thoronmir..." she whispered.

The brigands had the copse surrounded. But they didn't know who was within the trap of the trees and who was not. Lumiel laid low on her saddle and searchingly looked behind her for her companions. She could hear their horses. At least two, but she didn't know who. She anxiously waited for them to approach, they would need a plan and a lot of luck.

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Finëwen stood among the others, blood-soaked, as their enemy closed in around them. Now that there were no more dead corpses around them, it made steering her horse and fighting much easier, though she did not know how long it would be before the ground around them was littered with dead bodies, and who's bodies they would be, but now was not the time to be in doubt: she had to fight, along with the others. The sun was slowly setting to the west of them, and it seemed the battle last into the night.

Gripping tightly at the reins, they came closer. There were cuts here and there on Finëwen, but nothing majour, or at least not yet. The odds hadn't looked too great, but they had made it so far, though there were wounded. Finëwen did not know how much longer they would last, but she would not give up anytime soon. After seeing several torture devices, she could not let her companions come to such a horrible demise and stood her ground.

Then came a round of arrows, Finëwen narrowly dodging them, as she steered her horse. Fortunately, everyone else missed them by only a few hand lengths (and even less) also.

After what seemed a pause, the men charged. Finëwen gripped her sword and the reins tightly, though her knuckles were cut up and bloody. Clinging swords with a charging man, he managed to cut her along the arm, leaving a somewhat deep wound, only before he had Finëwen's own sword jabbed into him. He fell to the ground, littering it. More charged, and Finëwen responded to them also with her sword.

[littlemanpoet]

Falowik

Falowik and Finëwen veered to the right and back down the hill as the horsemen that had been held in reserve galloped past them and up the hill. Lumiel went in closer, and had to dodge arrows for her trouble. Falowik was stunned that they were being left alone. But the entirety of their foes had for some unknown reason decided to concentrate their efforts against Thoronmir, Lira, Eswen, and the two hobbits. Maybe they thought that Lira was a mage, or something. In any case, they had to do something. Draw some of them off so that Thoronmir and the others had a fighting chance? Only Eswen had bow and arrows.
Falowik was unsure whether to join Lumiel or not.

Uien hung onto him tightly, murmuring in Elvish. It seemed that she was again in some kind of trance, spurred by what, Falowik could not imagine. She was beyond his words and would be of no help for strategy.

A pony came up beside them. The rider sat up straight. It was Falco.

"Wanderer!" He spoke in a hoarse whisper. "They've left the land they were defending exposed to our eyes."

Falowik looked back. Sure enough, there was nothing but dead bodies between them and whatever lay westward. He looked back up the hill to the copse and their surrounded allies.

"But we can't leave them alone up there."

"Do what you must. I'm going to have a look. You be sure to be alive when I get back!"

With that, Falco was off at a gallop. Whether the enemy saw him or not, Falowik couldn't tell. Unsure as to the best course of action, he urged Flithaf up the hill to aid Lumiel. He hoped Eswen would do her dark queen thing again soon. They needed a distraction.

Falco

Falco passed the field of the melee and met no friend or enemy. He noticed the two dead ponies of Gorby and Anson and clicked his tongue at the waste. He rode on, following the rough path that skirted the hill going northwesterly. The moon was high now and the stars shone. It was quiet now that he had a hill between him and the melee. He stopped. Before him was a wide lake, stretching for miles. Of course, Lake Evendim. He went a little farther, approaching the shore, heading north along the edge of the lake.

[Imladris]

Her bow ready, Lira glided swiftly to the edge of the copse where she had seen Esgallugwen lingering in the shadows. “Mellon, are you standing guard?” she asked as she pressed herself against a tree. Glancing towards the other elf, she noticed that shafts of wood protruded from her shoulder and her thigh and that the feathered portions of the broken arrows were scattered about the ground, as if the elf had thrown them carelessly aside. “You must have your wounds treated before they become infected,” she whispered softly in the elvish tongue. “I am sure you do not wish to die a painful death if the infection spreads, or at the very least loose a limb.” She smiled gently at Esgallhugwen and said, “Please, Eswen, leave me hear to guard in your stead.”

The other elf shook her head and said, “Soon -- but not now. Look at them,” she whispered, gesturing towards the drifting shadows that circled the copse, “they mean to keep us here, penned like sheep to slaughter.” She laughed softly: they both knew that any man who entered the copse would die. “Within these trees we can live for a very long time, and eventually they will leave us, impatient to wait for us any longer. The only way they can route us out is if they set fire to the trees, but their minds are not sharp enough for that. They have lived and learned only to kill; I doubt that any one of these men know how to think.”

Lira stroked the dry, creviced bark of the tree and looked sadly at the brown shriveled leaves that clung to its wasted twigs. “It is not fire I fear, Esgallhugwen,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “We have hardly any food left as most of it was on the hobbits’ ponies which are both gone. We will starve long before they tire waiting for us.”

Death. She had not been able to escape its presence. Death was the hand that caressed a slumbering child’s cheek, that stole a baby from the cradle, that clothed a lover‘s heart in sable; the one that rescued the aged from disease and pain, the companion of the armies of Middle-earth. With a little sigh, she said, “We are going to die.”

[Lumiel]

Falowik and Finewen neared and she whispered to them. "Stop!" In surprise, they turned to her. In the near dark they had almost passed her by. In a glance, she took them in. Falowik and Finewen were unhurt for the most part, and Uien was riding with Falowik. Looking at the elf, she saw that she seemed to be in a trance. There was nothing she could do about that. She turned back to the other two. "Where's Falco?" she asked with concern.

"He went that way" said Falowik, pointing towards the dark horizon, "towards the area that the company came from. They've left the land unguarded." explained Falowik. The decision of the stout, stubborn hobbit surprised Lumiel.

"The others are trapped in the copse, the brigands have surrounded them. There are about twenty of them, I think. We've got to come up with a plan." she whispered in explanation of the situation.

"A distraction would work." Finewen said softly. "They can't see in the dark and they don't know how many of us are in the copse and how many are not. They won't know where we are. Numbers won't matter."

Falowik nodded agreement. "It's probably the best chance we have to save them. But we have to do it very soon, before they start watchfires and patrols. They won't take any chances."

An idea clicked in her mind and her eyes widened in hope, a small, unseen smile accentuating it. "I have a plan. You two can draw them off. Start off a good distance away. Get their attention. Give a show of bravado." she said in short, staccatto sentences as her mouth tumbled over the words in an effort to keep up with the pacing of her mind. "We've killed most of their company, they'll want revenge. They'll think that just two of you are easy pickings. If you can draw enough of them off and keep them busy, I'll sneak up on them. I can see them in the dark, but they can't see me, like you said Finewen. I'm sure that I can take out a few of them before they even realize that they're being attacked. Once the others within the copse realize what's going on, they can help me pick off those that remain." she finally finished. She looked at the man and woman, wondering what they would think.

"But what of Uien?" asked Falowik. "I won't be able to fight them and protect her at the same time." Lumiel hadn't thought of that. Her brow creased for a moment in thought and she spoke again quickly.

"We can leave her with my horse. I've found that he's loyal and smart, he'll protect her. Not having him might make it easier for me to attack the brigands as well, since I'll be a much smaller target." she said. It might not be the best idea, but it was the best that she could come up with. She trusted her horse, he had saved her life and she believed he could save Uien's as well, if it was necessary. The idle thought came across her hurried mind that she had not yet named him. Well, maybe after the danger was past she would get around to it.

Falowik seemed to consider this, looking at Uien with worry. Could a horse be trusted to protect the woman he loved so much? "Alright. So long as she's safe." he said. Lumiel dismounted and convinced her nervous horse to lay on the ground. Falowik eased off of his saddle and carefully took Uien down. It seemed she could barely stand and Falowik gently supported her as he led her to the horse and helped her sit down, leaning her upper body against his dark, shining coat. Lumiel rubbed his nose and whispered to him encouragement and hope. "You're sure he'll stay with her?" asked Falowik, his face filled with worry. Lumiel nodded.

"If our plan is to have any chance of success, we need to hurry." said Finewen. "Their attention won't be distracted entirely by the copse for very long and as quiet as our voices are, they carry too well in this land." By way of agreement, Falowik mounted his saddle with one last look at Uien. "Good luck, Lumiel."

"May the Valar protect you." she whispered in return as she turned and headed towards the copse. Her feet swept quietly over the bent grass as she weaved between the dead bodies. The smell of decay was beginning. She ignored it and kept her eyes on the copse, making sure that none of them saw her. As she neared, she crept on her belly. As she approached in an almost snake-like manner, she could feel the cut on her back opening up again, oozing blood slowly. But the pain only seemed to push her on and she finally stopped about fifteen feet away. She would wait for the signal.

[littlemanpoet]

Falco

Falco and his pony climbed a ridge that came down to the water's edge. Just before he reached the top, he saw a settlement on the shore between two arms of a hill. In the moonlight it appeared to be surrounded by high stockaded walls on every side. Falco reined his mount, turned around, dismounted, and tied the pony to a nearby shrub, and checking his weapons, stole over the ridge and into the valley, keeping to the shadows of trees and scrub. His hobbit feet were very quiet, and he was small compared to what these people probably expected. Before long he had snuck up to the foot of one wall of the stockade.

He moved slowly and carefully, as quietly as he could, to the nearest corner. A locked gate was not far away. He crept to it. He heard voices.

"Wonder what's keeping them? There were only ten enemy. Eighty strong should have wiped 'em out in minutes. They ought to be back by now."

"Cleaning up the evidence, probably. Can't leave any signs thereabouts."

"I don't like that it's just us five to guard the whole lot of 'em!"

"Easy now. It's just a couple of hours. Come morning there'll be enough to watch the laborers."

"I still don't like it."

Falco stole away with his new information. He hoped the others would still be there when he got back.

Falowik

Falowik and Finëwen rode down the hill and partway of the next, and from their hooted and hollered. It was not long before ten horsemen started down the hill, coming in their direction. Falowik hoped Lumiel would be able to take some out. In any case, he and Finëwen would give whoever survived a rabbit chase to remember. It was a good thing they had a head start.

Uien

Death everywhere. Screams and howls surrounded her. They were attacked by orcs borne by wargs. Death and blood was in the air. The others fought desperately, making a ruin of the enemy. There were no stones to speak for the dead here, just the hills and the trees. The bodies of the dead piled up around her and she could not escape them. An orc face scowled within inches of her own and threatened her. No, that was another time, another place. It was all blended together in a nightmare of blood and death. The hills ran red and the trees moaned with it.

A voice broke in. "Uien! Let the horses go! Leave them!" The voice of her beloved. She dropped the reins as a familiar horse thundered near. "Hop on!" A hand reached down and grabbed hers. She jumped up behind Falowik and wrapped her arms around him, keeping her head low. She was safe now.

Thundering hooves. Cries in the night. It was all a blur of noise and darkness. Blood and death were before her eyes and she could not escape. She was in a prison of nightmares. Her lover went away and left her alone. Someone pulled her off the horse, and put her on another one. They made her rest against the horse's neck. Warmth. They were closer to the blood and the death now. She could feel it and smell it. She could taste the evil of death and slavery.

[Esgallhugwen]

Esgallhugwen stood next to Lira, managing to have gotten off her horse. Her wounds still bled slowly and the aching throb only added to her anger, very much like when one tries to bring down a great bear or wild cat, the more wounded the animal is the stronger and more bloodthirsty it becomes before it tears it's pursuers to utter pieces.

"You can stay back or you can stay close" she whispered to Lira and the Hobbits "whatever you think is best, I'd perfer if you stayed back even my horse could not carry all of us and it is a sad fate that your faithful mounts have been slain, so take my place as gaurd and prepare yourselves" she saw the riders race off towards Falowik, Finëwen and the rest who were not trapped in the copse.

"The time has come for me to try and do my part, stay here with Thoronmir unless he tells you otherwise, even though we lost our mounts and some of us are wounded, we would be lost without his leadership". She hopped on top of Morsereg's sleek black back and warily made her way around the ruined stone wall, that was part of the copse, she saw the men run off with Lumiel fairly close behind even without a horse.

She raced quickly among the dead bodies, a black blur almost unoticible in the shadows. Esgallhugwen drove her horse towards Falowik, coming up behind the hill so the men wouldn't see her. "Do not worry", she spoke soft and quickly in thier ears, "you will not have to run".

The Elf seemed to grow tall and dark as she mustered her strength and power, the moon with all its light and beauty cast an evil shadow upon her pale face, and her eyes seemed to glow like silver stars in a harsh cold winter. Morsereg reared and screamed throwing his head about.

At first the men reared in their horses with sickly humour on their faces thinking the enemy was making a mistake that would lead to their advantage, but their hearts soon qailed before the dark menacing shape its eyes shining in the star and moonlight like beacons of death and impending torment.

"You lowely worms," she cried at them "who think of yourselves as brave men, who think you have no fears, you had found yourselves strong and inexsaustable, fools you must feel now to know you have brought merciless death upon you, beautiful and lovely but a terror and plague to all things mortal, you have brought me down upon you and I will not deprive myself of taking your lives, be thankful if you come to an end swiftly!".

She raised her sword as Lumiel crept up towards them.

[Lumiel]

She could feel the steady beat of her heart, throbbing a quick pulse through the cut on her lower back. It seemed to echo in her head as she waited for what seemed an unrelenting eternity for Finewen and Falowik's signal. And then it came.

She could hear them shout and holler to the brigands, and heard their horses neigh in challenge. Those surrounding the copse had a quick council and then ten of the men pounded off to meet the two on the hills. They passed not far from where she lay pressed on the grass, looking like another dead body among many. She lay still as stone as her eyes silently followed them. It was time.

There were fourteen men left, all spread out along the edges of the small copse. Quietly, she got to her feet and nearly crawled towards them, taking out two daggers from hidden folds as she went, her sword sheathed for the moment at her side. Two were just ahead of her, and she could hear Eswen's dark voice penetrating like a knife through the night air, making the men back up a pace in fear.

Taking her chance, she swept forward, still carrying herself low to the ground, and cut the hind leg tendons of two of the horses as she ran between them. Both cried in pain and surprise and fell towards the ground, either throwing off their masters or landing on top of them. Before they hit the ground though, she rolled beneath the one on her right and threw a deadly aimed dagger at the neck of the rider who was not ten feet away. He had only barely turned to the sudden attack, his sword half unsheathed. He clutched at his throat with claw-like hands and slumped off of his mount, which trampled over him in its fearful hurry to escape.

Behind her, she heard the thunderous gallop of a horse with the war cry of a man. Turning on one foot, she saw he was nearly on her, sword raised in his right hand. She stepped deftly to her right just as the horse sped by and yanked on the reins as hard as she could. The horse neighed fiercely as it was thrown off-balance and stumbled to the ground, throwing the rider off several feet away. Knowing that he was the greatest danger to her at the moment, she drew her sword and ran to where he now lay. Seeing her unnaturally calm battle face beside her blood-sick blade gave his instinct the jump it needed to let him survive. He rolled away and quickly to his feet as she swung with a quick darting motion at where he had previously been. He returned with a heavy-handed overswing and Lumiel blocked it, pushing out and around as she did so, nearly throwing the sword from the man's hands. Two were gone and she had a third busy. She only hoped that the others could take care of the rest.

[Imladris]

I jumped at the scream that ripped the air and the next thing I knew I was sitting on the ground, trying to figure out just why something was screaming and just how, exactly, I had fallen from the tree. Shadows darted hither and thither, Lira was shooting arrows at them. I grinned broadly for I realized that some of our party had come to rescue us from this horrid copse that kept us from complete escape. With a shrill cry, I danced wildly at the base of the tree, much too exited to realize that there were still men about, and that I could be killed in a wink. But, as the cries of men came dangerously close to me, I stopped my dancing and crouched in a little hollow between the great roots and waited. I hoped that none of our party would be slain. There was Fin, the human girl, Uien, Falowik, and Lumiel -- I shut my eyes and prayed that she would not meet her doom. I couldn’t understand how that Falco could think that Uien and Falowik had set us up -- [I] Falco! [/] My head shot up and I frowned. I hadn’t seen him for hours and I thought he had come along with us. Now that I took a minute to think clearly, he wasn’t here at all -- he had disappeared. Even though I despised him, he was a hobbit and I hoped nothing too serious would happen to him.

I suddenly noticed that all was quiet and that not even the wind whispered of secret things. No clash of iron, no whistles of arrows. Just an immense stillness that echoed in my ears.

[littlemanpoet]

Falco had made it back to his mount when he stopped in his tracks. Falco, Falco, what are you thinking? There's only five of them. He turned around and crept back to the settlement. There had to be a way in for a hobbit. He followed the wall to one corner, turned west and followed it to a large gate, big enough to drive wagons through. There was no easy entry there either. He kept going until he came to the water's edge. He would have to swim, but then he would be under the wall and in. It was a good thing it was still the height of summer.

Falco came up inside the wall, dripping wet. Nobody was nearby. He carefully drew his dwarven made sword and his dagger. He had rough work to do and needed to make quick work of any foe who stumbled upon him.

The settlement was not very big. It was a stockade of timber surrounding a small village with all needs for daily survival inside. Except that there were no smials or houses. Instead there were three long buildings, running east to west, a dirt road passing before them from one gate to the other. The building closest to the north gate was the barn. He could hear lowing and bleeting and neighing coming from it. A brigand stood at the door of the middle one. Maybe that was the prisoners' quarters. Which made the south building the brigands' quarters.

Falco knew that two brigands were stationed at the south gate; at the north gate was one more. He had not realized that, and was happy that he had moved with the stealth of hobbits. That left one more unaccounted for. He could see the doors to the other long buildings, but no brigand stood in front of it. The Maybe there was a back door that he could not see. The thing to do was wait it out and let them create a weakness he could use. He crept along the water's edge until he came to a dock. There were five long boats with their bottoms to the sky. He made note of them; a good hiding place if needed. Up from the boats and the dock was a kitchen house or smoke room. He could smell the stench of roasted meat laying over it. He hunkered up to it and hid in its shadow from the light of the moon, and waited.

The fifth brigand came walking between the middle building and the barn and had words with the brigand guarding the west door, gesturing broadly. The two of them left the door and made for the brigands guarding the south gate. The brigand at the north gate saw them leaving their posts, threw up his hands, and jogged across the length of the settlement to join them.

Falco's heart raced as he crept low to the ground, wishing for cloud cover to obscure his passage. It did not come. The five brigands were heatedly arguing about whether one of them should go over the ridge and check to see what had happened to their cohorts. Falco came up to the middle building. The door was locked with a chain. Falco shook his head, wishing for better luck. He hoped the brigands would stay put, because he was going to have to let them out of his sight. He scurried down the length of the building and came to the end, turned, and found a door in the far end, close to the wall of the stockade. He checked the wall to see how it was built. It would not be climbable in a pinch. He looked to the door; chained and locked as was the other. He could still hear the brigands debating. Good.

He pulled out his cudgel and levered it between the door and the chain, choosing the link that looked to be weakest, and gave a hard yank. His luck changed. The link broke, and without much noise. He pulled the chain loose from its moorings, opened the door, and went in. It stank of man's sweat. The building was lined with makeshift cots, and the cots were full. He went to the first one and shook its occupant awake. The man's eyes opened, looked, and flinched. Falco put his finger to his lips.

"I'm a friend," he whispered. "There are only five of these ruffians guarding the whole place. Everybody up and overpower them! Quietly!"

The man's eyes widened and the look of sleep left them. He got up from his cot on weak legs. Falco winced to see his condition. These brigands had been starving him. The rest of them were in the same condition. Falco wondered if Eodwine was among them. Even in their condition, they were more than a match for five brigands. He told them his plan and it was passed down the line. They followed him out of the east door, that he had broken into, and divided into three groups of forty men, hiding behind each long building. Falco was the first in line behind the brigands' building.

The five seemed to have come to a conclusion, and had decided to send one of their number out to see what had happened over the hill. That one was going to find Falco's pony. But they had made the prisoners' job easier. The brigands let the one through on horse and closed the south gate behind him. The others broke up, two of them coming up the road, walking straight back toward the north gate, one of them heading toward the broken door. All the prisoners flattened themselves against the wall. The two brigands passed by the opening between the first two buildings, and the one stationed himself before the door of the middle building while the other went back to the north gate.

At Falco's signal, the three groups moved out. The forty behind the barn chased and surrounded the guard headed for the north gate. The forty behind the prison building split up between the two guards at each end. Falco led his own forty on the most desperate part of the plan, crossing the open lawn to the south gate where the last guard stood. He heard them coming, turned, and drew his sword, then seeing the rage in forty pairs of eyes, he knew he could not win, and dropped his sword. So it was with all of them. They were quickly overcome, tied up, and prisoners and captors exchanged roles.

Falco remembered the one who had left, and expected his return at any moment. He had forty of the freed men stand waiting for the last brigand's return. Meanwhile, he opened up the barn and let the horses out. The men saddled them and found weapons in the brigands' quarters, and sixty of them were on horseback ready to follow Falco to the aid of the ten.

The one brigand returned, with Falco's pony in tow. The doors were opened for him and he rode in, quickly surrounded by forty men who pulled him down from his steed. This one was foolish enough to think that he had the advantage while mounted, and used his sword before they took him down. He did not survive. Five of the freed men were injured; Falco hoped not seriously. Falco mounted his pony.

The sixty horsemen left the settlement, armed with swords. They galloped out of the valley and over the ridge. Falco hoped that they would find his allies alive.

[Imladris]

Gorby

Standing beside the tree, I pressed a wrinkled, grubby piece of parchment against the bark and then began to ever so carefully scratch across the surface:

Forgive me for not dating this, but I have quite forggotten the time since it has rushed buy in a colorful blur of swords and blood and insteruments of tortur. We have just eskaped deth by a hare’s breadth and now our elves and men are mulling around, wondering where Falco has got two. I suppose they don’t go out to search for him because it’s always best to stay put when one member of a party is lost -- but since I think we’re both lost (Falco from us and us from Falco), I do wonder what will happen if both parties deside to stey put. I suppose we could send won of our fine elves to search for them, but then again, it really is quite dangerous walking alone…

I miss my poor pony and I’m sure Lira laments the loss of her mare…the name was much too complicated to pronounce much less spell but she told me once it meant “wind” or something of that nature. It’s a shame we hobbits lost our ponies because most of the food was packed on them…speaking of which, I’m starving. My knees are quivering as I speek -- oh blast, my pen just punctured the parchment into the bark. Oh well…where was I? Food, yes. I’d give anything for a pipe and smoke, with some sugared roles and a bit of butter melting on some corn bread. And some taters would be in order as well…

Oh no! Sixty men have been seen galloping across the ridge. I suppose that we did alright with the first sixty…but we’re wounded, arrows are in short supply -- speaking of which it’s been quite gruesome watching the elven ladies plucking the shafts from the dead corpses. Blood and guts tend cling to the arrow part, like seaweed on an anchor I’d imagine…

The horsemen are drawing nearer and they’re friends -- not enemies! Falco’s at the head and I’m sure he’s mighty pleased with himself at his long awaited chance at leading somebody or something. Naturally, he came to our rescue just a wee bit late but better late than never.

The poor men are starving -- you can see their ribs through the tatters that serve for clothing. Whip scars as well….Their heads are little better than a skull with a skin stretched tightly across it and eyes staring hollowly from the sockets. And here we are with little food to spare…but they must have come from somewhere and that somewhere must surely have some food unless they were starving them…Cruel thought. They could stand to live a few years in the Shire to get some meat upon their bones. Oh happy thought! Maybe Eodwine is among them: he surely must be -- I can’t imagine that they’re could be anymore hideouts in a cold, barren place as this.

From what I gather from the crowded, loud, rushed conversation, it seems as if Falco rescued them from some guards…and swam in the cold water no less. Funny, I didn’t think he’d have it in him to brave the water, much less the men…I wonder if I would have had the courage, or the brains to do what he did…

I stopped and put my things away and crept towards the group of men. Licking my lips, I said shrilly, “I suppose we’re going to go home, then, to the Shire, since they’ve been found, aren’t we?”

[littlemanpoet]

“I suppose we’re going to go home, then, to the Shire, since they’ve been found, aren’t we?”

That had been Gorby. The brigands had called it quits when they realized the sixty horsemen were not friends, starved as they were. These brigands had been responsible for their starving, and for the lashes on their backs.

"Back to the Shire!" Falco answered. "I should think not! We have all the reinforcements we need right here! Leastways, once they get some vittles in them."

"Is Eodwine among you?" asked Falowik.

One of the stepped forward. "My name is Heremir. I'm a Gondorian, captured last year at Fornost. I know of the one you speak, this Eodwine. He was among our number most recently, but he tried to escape, a foolish thing to do, and they took him north, to make a gift of him for the Master, they said. He was well until then. A firey spirit had that one. It's too bad he's as good as dead now."

"Not while I am still standing," said Falowik. "What work did the brigands set you to, if any, Heremir?"

"Farming and husbanding. This Master of theirs means to build a great army. For that he needs food and drink for his men. He uses folk he captures as slaves until they are nothing left but skin and bones, and the blood running in their veins. The Valar know what he does with them."

"So there is food and drink to be had back where you were held?" Falco asked.

"Aye. And now we may actually get some of it," Heremir said, a slow smile spreading over his face. Then he looked about. "Are you their leader?" he asked Falco. "Or is it you?" This last was said to Falowik.

"Not I", said Falowik, nor Falco here, though he is a brave and resourceful enough hobbit. Thoronmir is our leader." Falowik pointed to the man lying on the ground, wounded.

[Imladris]

Not going home. The words rang hollowly in my head and I sighed. All I wanted was a nice comfy hobbit hole, with a nice comfy fire warming the tips of my toes. I glanced at them, and brushed the fur aside. I nodded: it was just like a suspected. They were turning blue because of the chill.

I couldn’t believe that Eodwine had decided to escape. Didn’t he realize that the good people were always rescued, I though bitterly. But that was only true in fairy tales. I suppose that he had doe right in escaping -- if only he had known he was going to be rescued and then all of our troubles would be over. But instead he had gotten himself captured again and now he could be dead because of his foolishness.

The men heaved up Thoronmir and another tossed me behind one of the skin clothed skeletons. “You should drop by the Shire when we rescue Eodwine,” I said cheerfully. “Get a good feeding and experience real hobbit hospitality.” I knocked myself over the head and said, “Except that you couldn’t go into the Shire proper because of an edict that the King made. But Bree is just as good,” I said.

The man nodded.

I suppose he was too hungry to talk. I couldn’t say I blamed him. Soon we reached the prison and passed through the formidable wall. The best thing about the place was that we were shielded from the wind, though the greatest allure was the food that it promised.

[littlemanpoet]

There was a celebratory atmosphere at the settlement. Five cows were butchered and the grain stores were opened. Bread was baked and meat cooked, and for the first time in months and years for some of the former prisoners, they had a feast. Falco kept looking, nibbling on a beef leg bone, until he found what he was looking for: the beer. Now it would be a real feast.

There was just one problem. Some of the party wanted to return to Bree while some wanted to go north toward the holding of the Master, which the prisoners said was apparently not far away, considering what their former captors had always said. About 60 of the former prisoners wanted to go with the party, and 120 wanted to go to Bree.

It was Falco's opinion that Thoronmir needed to be brought back to Bree, with his injury. They no longer needed a Ranger to protect them, and an injured one at that. Thoronmir heard Falco air his opinion and kept his peace at first.

[Meneltarmacil]

"Falco," said Thoronmir, "I believe you may be overreacting. I was not seriously injured when my horse went down, just a twisted ankle which our very talented Uien was easily able to fix." He gestured at the healer, then got up and walked around the room to prove his point.

"I am quite capable of continuing, but since most of the prisoners have been found, we shouldn't have to risk everyone to find Eodwine. I will search for him, and whoever wishes to come with me may do so. If you decide to go back to Bree, you are certainly welcome to. What say you?"

[Esgallhugwen]

The words that the last brigand had said to Eswen as Falowik and herself took him down still rang harshly in her ears. "You will fall to the Master, then he will have his way with you". The familiarity of those words was blood curdling and heart wrenching.

Many years ago, in mortal reckoning in an Orc hold where she had been taken, where her mother died alone, she heard those very words spoken by someone in the shadows that she could not see. As she was whipped and cut with blades and whips she always fought to hold on to her sanity and her life.

The words had always haunted her and now with renewed force. Esgallhugwen said nothing as Falco came over the hill with sixty men at his back, clothed in tatters with bones sticking out like spikes and needles.

Esgallhugwen felt guilty for the poor Hobbits who wished to go home, that was very understandable, considering what they had been witness to. But she would continue on with Thoronmir, she needed to find this dark force, she needed to see if her premonition was true, if there was any link at all.

Sixty of the men wanted to go onwards as well, while the rest, about 120 wished to go to Bree. Esgallhugwen sat away from the group, who was celebrating, she took the sword from the last brigand they killed; looking at the sword she asumed he was of some higher rank than the rest.

It was a short sword, suitable for horseback battle, the pomel was a silver skull with a snake running through the eyes. The snake had two red rubies for eyes and they stared back at Esgallhugwen with a burning light.

Nimromen, the little white wolf cub, was limping among the ex-prisoners, sniffing here and there begging for scraps of meat. If she were to go on she would have one of the Hobbits take him to Bree or to the Shire and keep him until she returns, there would be no chance she would return unscathed.

The arrow wounds burned slightly as she cleaned and bandaged them, a dark figure loomed above her, it was one of the prisoners.

Pray tell what could this poor soul want, especially from me when all the others are far more friendly.

She looked up at his stark face, drawn and pale by starvation and labour, Esgallhugwen was amazed he could even stand in his state. she stood up leaving the brigand's sword on the ground,

"please, won't you take a seat" she gestured to the bench she had been sitting on. "Thank you" he replied as if relieved that she did not turn him away.

He looked into her clear grey eyes, "M'lady why are you sitting all alone, when merry making is under way?"

Esgallhugwen looked back into his green eyes "my apologies, I prefer to be alone for the most part, what do you wish of me?" she tried to prevent him from having to get up she could tell his young bones ached, and he looked so terribly old.

"I am one of the men who wishes to stay with the group and not return to Bree. And perhaps in that time I may find the answer to the riddle that is you, that is what I wish Lady, for there is an air about you different from your companions".

She gazed at his face and he seemed hard set and determined to stay with the group. "Tis hard to crack the riddle of Lady Esgallhugwen, none now know the answer, those who do are few or gone".

[littlemanpoet]

"You won't be getting rid of me that easily. Remember who saved your hide up on that hill back there. If it weren't for us sensible hobbits, you'd all be slaves or dead by now! Isn't that right, Gorby? Anson?"

He turned to them for support. They looked away. Come to think of it, they'd been part of the trouble in the first place. Wet behind the ears is what they are.

"Anyhow, I'm not going back to Bree. Not yet. You need me. That's plain to see as the hair on my feet. But who will go back to Bree? Someone has to take these folks there, and all this cattle and wagons full of grain and whatnot, it's a tall order if you ask me."

[Meneltarmacil]

Thoronmir looked around at the prisoners, then caught a glimpse of a familiar face.

"Awyrgan!" he said. "I'm glad to see that you're still alive."

"I'm lucky to be alive, with what I've seen these barbarians do to their prisoners, Thoronmir," said a slightly younger Ranger. "You look the same as ever."

"I remember this place when it was first built," Thoronmir said, looking around at the room he was in. "This was the town hall for the settlement that we protected from the hillmen when they were still our enemies. What happened here?"

"They came upon us from the north," Awyrgan replied. "You should have seen them. There were a thousand at least, and they quickly overwhelmed our defenses. Some of us fled to the hills, others were captured or killed."

Thoronmir knew the pattern all too well. Most servants of Sauron or Saruman followed the same strategy. "Did you get a good look at their leader?" he asked. "We have reason to believe that he is more dangerous than it would seem."

"No," the other Ranger said. "I've never heard his name, and I don't think anybody but his top lieutenants know who he is."

[Nurumaiel]

Falco wanted to go on, was insisting that they go on. But Anson wanted to go back. He for once did not seek comfort in either Gorby or Lira. They would probably want to continue, anyway. A feeling of shame crept over him when he realized how terrified he was, how much he was hoping they would go back to Bree. Gorby and Lira were so brave. So long as someone was in danger they would continue.

It wasn't that Anson didn't care about the danger this person was in, whoever he was (see, there he was trying to rescue someone when he didn't even know the name), but he did care about his family and his home and he wanted to go back to them. He didn't want to see anymore death. He hadn't left to rescue this person in the first place, he had gone to accompany Gorby because he was Gorby's friend.

Gorby's friend...

Gorby would be wishing to go on, Anson knew that. To look at him now he looked as though he wanted to go back. They all probably wanted to go back, things were so dreadful. But Gorby was just as noble as the others. He wanted to go back but he wouldn't until their mission met with either success or failure. If he did go back, he would regret it for the rest of his life. But Anson knew he wouldn't regret it. Or would he? Would he regret leaving Gorby to himself and without a real hobbit friend?

Anson dropped his head. A great weariness came over him, and he didn't want to hear anymore talk about whether they should go back or not. He did want to think about it. Stifling a despairing groan, he closed his ears and mind to everything.

[littlemanpoet]

Falco overheard Thoronmir's exchange with yet another Ranger. He rolled his eyes. More big trouble.

"A Ranger who can't make a decision in battle to save his own hide, much less his party's, ought not to be leader, that's what I say. You don't seem half the leader you make yourself out to be, Master Thoronmir."

The Ranger looked at Falco, standing there with his chest thrust out. The Ranger raised his brow. This hobbit had a tongue in him!

"Oh? And who would you see as leader instead, Master Falco Boffin?"

"Someone who can keep his head about him enough to know when to call for a retreat! You were mighty lucky back there, not losing a one of us."

"You are referring to yourself as someone who can - ah - keep his head about him?"

"I don't go around blowing my own horn, unlike most big folk I know, but now that you've said it, who was it that found this place and brought all the men to save your skin? And you talk about this place as if you know it. I don't think you knew it was here at all. Look at it! You can tell by the new wood that it was built in just the last five years! What say you to that, oh wise Ranger?"

[Meneltarmacil]

"Falco," said Thoronmir, "This place was, as you said, built recently. Several Rangers, including Awyrgan and myself, helped to establish it about five or six years ago as part of a resettlement project for the North Kingdom, so it really hasn't been around that long. I figured that it had been destroyed by our enemies when they first came here, so I didn't bother looking for it. As for the battle, we were all horsed at first, so we did have the advantage of speed. When we began to lose that advantage, I called the retreat. I stayed with the others to try and protect them until everybody had gotten in one place. My horse fell on me, but I did manage to get back up and continue the fight. We were going to charge straight through at the weakest point in their lines once everybody was together. I stayed where I was mostly because I was waiting for you and didn't want anybody to get separated from the group. I don't doubt your courage in handling the situation like you did, and I think you did a great job of it. However, I would appreciate it if you had given me some indication of where you were during all that time we were waiting for you."

[Imladris]

Gorby

My heart sank to my toes and seeped out of my feet and was lost to the cold ground of the base. The food didn’t look as appealing as it should have, considering how hungry I was. I sighed. I didn’t want to go on and look for Eodwine; I didn’t want to stumble about in the dank and cold; I didn’t want to hear Falco complain and grumble and say how low everybody was when he was the lowest; I didn’t want to practice everything I learned from Meriadoc and Peregrin about honour and nobility; I just wanted to have a decent smoke (I had lost my match and pipe and tobacco long ago), feel the fire warm my wooly feet, and the prospect of a warm bed awaiting me. I sighed again and shook my head. But I couldn’t just let a man die out there…I couldn’t with live myself if I turned my back on him now. Of course, he was probably a corpse by now…but that didn’t matter. He seemed like a brave and honest man, thus he deserved a decent burial.

I wandered my way to Anson -- and stopped. He had fallen asleep on the floor. His face was wan and taught, as if he was having a wearisome battle within himself. I suddenly knew that he wanted to go back and that he had his family, his siblings, to take care of. He had come to accompany me, and what had it gained him? A lost pony and heartache.

I sat down next to him and waited for him to wake up, which the clatter of plates, the laughs of men, and the shouting of Falco all did in good time. “You don’t have to go along with me,” I told him as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. I looked at him hard, and smiled.

I glanced up and saw Lira gliding towards us. She had taken her bandage off, letting the purplish slash dry out so that it could heal properly. It was going to leave a fine scar I thought with some fascination. It really was too bad that I hadn’t gain such a fine one to show off before my hobbit friends. I shrugged. “What do you want to do, Lira?” I asked.

She crouched to the floor and gazed at me. Her wide blue eyes seemed to be glazed with unshed tears, and her face was paler than usual. Her hair was limp and uncombed. “It might be better to go back to Bree.”

My jaw dropped. This was coming from an elf. She averted her gaze from me to Anson and said, “More people will die if we continue to Eodwine who was taken back to this Master. He might be already dead.”

“So you want to let one die, to let the others live?” Anson asked. Lira nodded, and now I was confused. Everything had seemed so clear-cut before she had answered with the typical deepness of the elves.

[littlemanpoet]

"A fancy speech for one who ain't. And I'll make sure to pass a message through the enemy next time they separate us. Here, brigand, kindly tell Thoronmir that I can't get to him right now since I'm about to go find your camp and raid it and storm out here with sixty of your prisoners! I think Mister Brigand would be most happy to relay such a message."

"Falco!" Falowik walked up to him. "Your fearlessness is not in doubt, but the civility of your tongue is. Be careful before these Men decide to gag you!"

The Men laughed. Falco reddened in anger.

"They'll find me more trouble if they try."

Falowik raised a hand. "Peace, Falco! I hope now that you doubt me less, knowing that Eodwine does exist, and is in danger. I hope also that you will continue with us. We would all do well to have your courage and resourcefulness with us."

"Well....." Falco kicked at some dust on the floor. "I suppose I could come along if you insist."

[Alatariel Telemnar]

Finëwen tended to her own wounds by the fire. Fourtunately, they didn't go very deep and weren't that bad.

'...I suppose I could come along if you insist,' Finëwen heard Falco say. They had been talking, but she didn't really pay attention to most of what they were saying. She assumed herself that she would go... but the thought had never really occurred to her before now. She could always go along with the hobbits as far as she could. But then again, what was there for her after this. Her life after the finding Eodwine was nothing, if they ever found him at all.

As she thought about that, she wondered why Eodwine had left his men in the first place. It doesn't seem like the right thing to do. If she herself was in that position, she surely would have never left her own men. He must have feared for his life, Finëwen assumed. But then again, she did not have much of a life to loose, maybe he had.

Shrugging off that thought, Finëwen watched the flames swaying back and forth. She had not talked to anyone much on the trip, and she wondered if she ever would. She glanced around at the others and looked at the few who had tried to start up conversation. Falco seemed as if he was set on continuing with the others now. After a bit, Finëwen decided she would also. After all, there was not much left after this for her.

She looked around at the men who were prisoners eating merrily. One of them noticed her sitting by herself and walked over. He offered her some meat and she accepted with a thank you and he asked her to come join them. Finëwen did and sat down among a few men who all ate and talked amongst themselves. She nibbled at the meat and listened to their conversation.

[Esgallhugwen]

A long silence seemed to blacken their camp, as everyone realized that they must either continue on or head back, the parting would be bitter. She picked up the white wolf cub and held on to him gently,

I will have to say farewell to you also little one

Esgallhugwen looked over at the prisoner who still sat beside her, "what be your name then, it would be best to know it since you're one of the sixty or so that may be accompanying us on this mission". He looked up at her and smiled "my name is Kildirak, I'm a ranger".

She nodded "Kildirak, if it doesn't pain you will you walk with me to the two hobbits and Lira, it isn't far" she stood up and gave him her hand. They walked over casually and sat next to Lira, Eswen's smile at the two Hobbits was happy but filled with the sadness that only years of knowledge could bring to the elves.

"Mellon" she spoke softly to Lira "I know you will not go any farther and that you wish to turn back, I can see it in your eyes and the thought pains me to know that you will go, so I wish for you to take Nimromen with you back to Bree or the Shire if you plan on returning there, the path that lays ahead of me is too dangerous for him to go on; but do not be despair at our parting when the time comes which is not as far away as we should like, we will see one another again"

Esgallhugwen put her hand on Lira's shoulder and smiled at her despite her woe.

[littlemanpoet]

Uien ate little. Just enough to meet the need of the her growling stomach, and a little drink. These men were emaciated! She walked among the former prisoners, pacing down ragged aisles created by sprawling bodies and legs huddled around makeshift tables full of food. She could hear their labored breathing, saw the sores on their legs, arms, and heads. So many of them, so ill used! She would have to talk to Thoronmir, get him to change the plan. Out of nigh unto two hundred men here, merely half could survive a trip either north to this evil Master's holdings, or to Bree. The rest needed to remain where they were and receive care. Of those who needed to stay here, about eighty in all, one quarter of them were on the mend enough to be up and about; another quarter needed to stay abed for a few days, with exercise inbetween; another quarter needed uninterrupted bed rest; the last qwarter needed rough and immediate surgery.

She went to Thoronmir and explained this to him; then said, "I know that we need to make haste to the holding of this evil lordling, but I must stay and use my healing arts, much as I wish to go on."

Falco and Falowik were listening, near at hand. Falowik said, "Maybe I should stay and help you."

"No, love. Your place is at Thoronmir's side. You need to see to Eodwine."

Falco said, "No telling how far the hold of this overlord is from here."

"That is true," Thoronmir said. He looked to his friend, Awyrgan. "Know you aught of the distance from here to this overlord's keep?"

Awyrgan nodded. "It is not so hard to tell. The same wagon leaves full laden one morning, and returns empty two nights later. This keep cannot be more than thirty leagues away, I wager."

The discussion devolved into how many should go north, a small party in secret, or a host of close to one hundred. Some prisoners were sure that the enemy numbered more than five thousands, others were just as sure that there could not be more than half a thousand. Falco was quite confident of, and argued vehemently for, secrecy and a small number. Some said that the a select group led by Thoronmir should go north, some stay to protect Uien and her hospital, and some others should return to Bree. Others said that they should not be split up into so many smaller groups while the enemy was still in its strength. And so the debate went.

Falowik and Uien left the strategy to those with a mind to it. They walked to the water's edge.

"You will need someone to remain behind and help you. Perhaps Gorby and Anson would be happy to. They do not seem overjoyed that we march north at dawn tomorrow, whether as a small company or a large."

"I will ask them. I wish that I could go with you, but I am needed here."

"I know it. You are wise and kindly to remain here. I would expect nothing else from you."

She moved to him. They stood together, looking west over the lake, watching the sun ride down the blue.

"Come back alive, Loréatan. And bring Eodwine back with you."

"With the strength of your will to keep me, I'll be safe, no matter what may befall."

Others noticed them standing there, but left them to themselves.

Back in the center of the settlement, Lumiel came running from the captives, whom she had been guarding.

"Thoronmir! I have news! There is one among the enemy who says there is a secret way into the Master's hold! Maybe he lies, but he may speak the truth!"

Thoronmir, Awyrgan, and Falco followed Lumiel back to the captives.

[littlemanpoet]

"What is your name?" Thoronmir asked.

"I am called Furman Hunter."

"You speak of a secret way. Why should we trust you?"

"I will tell you my story. Do with it what you will. I used to live outside of Bree. I was on one of my hunts when I struck upon these others. We got to talking, this was before the Master had started his thing, and they said they'd heard there was good wages to be guards for a lordling up in the Hills. I took up with them. We guarded and what not, but year by year the things we were to do got worse and worse and I never liked it, but there was no way out or be killed, so I made sure to survive. That's my crime. And now you have come and I am freed of my service, no matter what you decide to do with me. I have no love for the Master or his ways. If I can help you to find a way to bring back your friend, and we all come out alive, I will say good-bye to all the wages and return to my simple life of hunting."

Falco spoke up. "I trust him no more than I do this Master he speaks of."

Falowik held his peace. He felt that Falco had a point, but it might be the best or only way they might find. And with Eodwine captured, this lancing was probably in his future. They were running out of time.

"Nevertheless," said Thoronmir, "this Furman will serve as our captive scout and we shall see if things are as he claims. Tell us about this secret way, first."

Furman told them the way, which had to do with tunnels for waste that went unguarded.

Falco wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Would that we had a ring of invisibility without a cursed Dark Lord the other side of it," he mumbled.

"We shall leave at dawn," said Thoronmir.

[Imladris]

I looked hard at Lira…clear liquid seemed to be seeping out of her wound and it looked more reddish. My stomach churned…was it infected? It had to be…a wound never looked so sick before. In fact, Lira didn’t look well at all. Her blue eyes were pale and cloudy, dark shadows gathered under her eyes, her face was white, her shoulders sagged. She looked lifeless -- hopeless. I wondered if that was why she wanted to go back to Bree…to get away from the death of everything. In a way, I couldn’t blame her. “I want to go,” I repeated, darting a defiant glance at Lira. For some reason, I was sure she would want me to stay here being useless. I didn’t know a thing about healing and I knew I’d be in the way.

“No, you‘re not,” Lira snapped.

I frowned at her. I had never before heard an elf snap. Frankly, I didn’t think the creatures were capable of it.

“Yet another reason for me to go,” I said. “He’s a hobbit going with many men. And even though he’s not the most pleasant hobbit to be around with, it wouldn’t be fair leaving him alone.”

“You’d be leaving Anson as well,” she returned. I flushed. Yes, I would be. It would be like a slap in the face not to stay with him. Then we could talk over old times, have a somewhat decent pipe, laugh with the men. I bit my lips. Besides, I’d only be in the way. Nothing much I could do to save Eodwine. I giggled. I could help Eodwine like I had helped Lira. I tittered again. “Maybe I should stay here,” I said. Definitely better than tramping through the wilds.

[Lumiel]

The prisoners, joyous as they had been to escape their hell, had settled down somewhat being still weakened from want of food. They ate in a merry mood, looking forward to a promised vengenance for the wrongs done unto them. And their group too, had lived through the night. Lumiel had only a few bumps and bruises, her worst hurt being a gash across her lower back which seemed to be healing well.

Among the others, the wounds seemed also to be of a minor nature, with the exception of a few. Uien was quiet, even more so than usual. Her heart, melancholy as it always seemed to be, was a shrouded mystery to Lumiel's eyes. Lira had a few troublesome wounds, and she seemed weary and heartsick of the whole business. But Lumiel's heart went out most of all to Gorby and Anson. They had fought bravely, and their valour had helped save them all. Yet the journey was beginning to wear on them and they were somber and silent, keeping to each other's company and to Lira.

For herself, Lumiel had not spoken much to the others, focusing only on coming to grips with the events and gained information of the past few hours. She kept guard over the captives, who seemed sullen and tight-lipped. Lumiel did not speak to them but merely watched, and saw to their needs. She did not feel an anger towards them, though if she had none would have faulted her. Some were silent in stubborn refusal to believe their defeat, yet others seemed almost repentive, relieved for it to be over.

Bringing water to one of the prisoners, the man spoke to her, the first of this group to do so. "Lady Elf..." he began quietly, taking the cup of water in his bound hands. "I...I am sorry for what I have...done." he spoke haltingly, as though struggling to control his thoughts and his voice. "It didn't start like...this. I never thought...that..it would be so...vile." he avoided her gaze. "Will you...forgive me?" he asked finally, raising his sad eyes to meet hers, sincerity in his face.

"Forgiveness for your trespasses is not mine to give..." she answered, staring at him in amazement and pity. Could he actually mean it? Did he want to repent? The man seemed to grow smaller at her words and his eyes fell to the ground once more. "But if it is forgiveness that you seek, you must seek it out yourself. Right what you have done, and forgiveness will come." she finished. She watched him a moment more. There seemed to be something different about this man. She waited, seeing if he would say anything more, but he remained silent.

She got up and began to walk away when he called out to her. "Wait! M'lady...I can help you. You are looking for the one we call Master, no?" his eyes were alight and he seemed almost to tremble. Those around him glared, either in amazement, hope, or hatred but they kept their tongues. He seemed oblivious to his companions. "I know of a way into his hold...I know where he is!" he exclaimed frantically. A few of the men around him looked prepared to strangle him but Lumiel was quickly at his side, glancing dangerously to the others, daring them to try and hurt him.

"Will you tell me the way?" she asked calmly of him, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Yes...if it will end the evil I was a part of." He begged of her to release him, but she would not. She did though, separate him from the main group of the captives and he told her his story and of what he knew.

"Furman Hunter, you may be forgiven yet." she said to him in a strong but soft voice. She stood and turned to find Thoronmir, he needed to hear this. Furman called after her, asking her name. "Lumiel. Thank you Furman." she said with a smile before hurrying away. She told Thoronmir of the information and he questioned Furman himself. Falco, his usual self, doubted him. Though he had reason to. Lumiel couldn't help but feel he was telling the truth, she trusted him.

Finally, Thoronmir made a decision. "We shall leave at dawn."

A thought came to Lumiel. Though she trusted him, even though the others did not, someone would have to watch him. She went to Thoronmir and spoke directly to him. "Someone must watch him, we cannot be entirely sure of him yet, though I think he is sincere." she paused. "I will guard him as we travel, if you don't mind." She wanted to get to know this man better, understand him. To see if he was true.

[littlemanpoet]

The party started at dawn, as they had planned.

Thoronmir and his Ranger friends took the lead, followed by Lumiel and the prisoner, Furman. Behind them rode Eswen, Finëwen, and Lira. Falowik and Falco took up the rearguard. It felt strange to both Falowik and Falco to ride together, but with the other hobbits and Uien gone, the natural companions of the two, and Thoronmir occupied with his friends, they fell into stride next to each other, and did not seem to mind each other's company overmuch.

It was a bright day, and the wind was from the northwest, cool and crisp. Their spirits were high and they were will provisioned for a week's traveling, which Furman assured them was much longer than they needed. Thoronmir wished to take no chances with their stock, however.

All through the morning they passed ripe fields of grain: rye, wheat, and barley; and on hills not covered by grain were cattle grazing. Such a bucolic setting was a surprise to them all, but even an evil Master styling himself the new dark lord needed to feed his troops.

Furman was quiet all through the day, and promised to speak more of what he knew when they set up camp.

[littlemanpoet]

It was dark in the hills, and they made their camp under the eaves of a big oak tree. Furman had made no sign of being ready to flee, and had been quite friendly to Lumiel and the others. A great weight seemed to have been lifted from him, and he smiled often. But now his face was dour as the others listened to him.

"I have not heard as much as I would like, and cannot tell you all that might be said, but I tell you what I know. The Master's keep is on the northern edge of the Hills of Evendim. It is new built and not many hands could be spared to the task, so it is not a great structure. It has a thick wall and is four square, and stands on the northernmost hill of Evendim. Its stones and mortar are black, whether painted or mined so, I know not. The wall rises twenty feet, is eighteen inches thick, and extends one hundred feet from corner to corner. Behind the wall is the keep itself, a humble building yet, only a few years old, two stories tall. I am told that it is as any lord's castle, serving as home, army barracks, and seat of power; but this one serves in one way more: as a temple. I have not seen the sanctuary myself, but I have heard that it is black, and stained crimson with the blood of many human victims. The Master drains the blood from his victims and collects it in vats, kept cool below ground. He drinks one goblet fresh when the victims are leeched and killed."

At this Furman broke off, and his eyes grew haunted. He leaned forward and spoke in a low voice.

"They say that he drinks blood to extend his life, that he is thousands of years old already."
Furman looked from eye to eye. "I believe it. I have never seen him, but from what is said, I do not doubt that this new dark lord is a sorcerer, and that he does evil magics to live ever longer, and that he enslaves the ghosts of his victims, and speaks with other dead that should not be roused, and with fell dark spirits."

Thoronmir spoke. "Where is he from, Furman? Who is he?"

"I know not his name, but I have heard just two things as to where he is from. Maybe you can make more of it than I. He is said to have come from the east to here, by way of the northern waste, and that he had come from the south before that, having turned his corner, so to speak, north and east of the Iron Hills. A long trek he must have made, east of the sea of Rhun. Where before then, I do not know. But there is the other thing. They say that he was a lieutenant of Mordor. What that may mean, I cannot say, for I have been among the hills for many a year. They say that he was injured in his body in a great quake, and barely escaped with his life, would that he had not, for he is evil. There. I have told you all I know about that. All that remains to tell is the way into his keep, which I can best tell you by showing it to you when we get there."

[Imladris]

Lira listened to Furman speak to Falowik of this master. “They say that he drinks blood to extend his life, that he is thousands of years old already." She only knew of one person who drank blood: Thuringwethil, the Woman of Secret Shadow. But Furman referred to this master as he .

Lira frowned. Whether Thuringwethil had perished in the destruction of Sauron’s Isle was unknown -- could she have survived? She wondered if Thuringwethil could enslave the ghosts of victims and speak with fell spirits. She shuddered. Turning to Furman, she asked, “Are you sure this master is a he?”

[Esgallhugwen]

Esgallhugwen listened closely to Lira's words "are you sure that the Master is a he?". It was a good question the master could be anyone, so much evil failed to pass when Sauron was destroyed.

She sighed and leaned up against the large oak tree stroking Morsereg's broad neck, she set down her saddle bags filled with provisions and some medical supplies. Eswen cautioned Kildirak to stay behind, he was in no shape to go on, he needed the healing attention of Uien.

The stillness in the air was threatening, the fields and cows they had passed earlier on were misleading signs of the danger that awaited them.

Who knows if this Master is already awaiting us, ready to take our blood without second thought, to take our lives. I will not go quietly.

Esgallhugwen's face become firm and resolute but did not lose any of its beauty, she looked above, black clouds were coming in. It would start raining soon, and it would not rain lightly.

[littlemanpoet]

"I do not know if the Master is a he. The Master has only been spoken of as a he, but maybe it is a woman."

Furman gave Lira a look of undinted curiosity.

"If it were a woman, who would you think her to be?"