Hunt for the Dragon RPG

[Child of the 7th Age]

Annunfuiniel's post:

Gráin stood by his pony and tied his pack behind the saddle. Goodbyes had been said; Rowan and Ewinda had already departed, Elentari and Lenwe would stay in the Havens for a little while longer.

"Ready to go home?" Gráin asked from his steed. The beast wagged its head and whinnied.

"Yes, so am I," Gráin sighed; "So am I..."

"And we are too!" Vráin had heard his brother's monologue and now he sprang up, wide smile on his face and mischief in his eyes; "Come! Time to go and see Aravorn again!"

Vráin grabbed Farin in his arms and swung her to his saddle. Then he hopped behind her and took the bridle;

"We will race you to Bree!" And with that they galloped off, Vráin grinning and Farin rolling her eyes.

"But..." Gráin began; "It's a week's ride to Bree..." Groaning, Gráin turned to Selvren who stood by his side and laughed heartily, watching how dust rose from the ground under the beating hoofs.

"His friends have barely been buried and he fools around like that? Will he ever grow up?"

The elf fell silent and his thought flew far in time and place. Then, as if waking from a dream, he shook his head and spoke:

"Gráin, you know your brother has grown up. You have seen him turn grave and bold; with bride you have watched him do deeds worth many a song. That change you witnessed... It was no illusion. But would you that his laughter was gone? Would he then be the brother you love?" Selvren turned his keen grey eyes to Gráin. "And he has not forgotten his fallen friends, nor will he ever do so. For not every tear we shed is seen. And blessed is the laughter that rings when the heart weeps."

Gráin lowered his head and considered these words in silence. Then, slowly he raised his gaze again towards the east;

"I know..."

Together the dwarf and the elf now watched as the dust cloud steadily drew away from them. Winter was coming yet that day was fair: sun shone on them and soft west wind blew from the sea, pushing them gently towards home. Even as Perin silently joined their company a small smile crept on Gráin's face and he spoke again.

"Tell me, Selvren: how long do you think it will take from my brother this time to get into trouble?"

The elf observed the horizon for a while before answering in a telling tone: "Well, a river cuts the path about ten miles from here..."

"Say no more!" Gráin exclaimed and his laughter echoed in the air. Turning to Perin he added; "Prepare to meet two soaked dwarves soon!"

For a while Perin looked rather confused but before long he couldn't help but join the choir. "Looks like we have a long journey ahead," he breathed when they finally calmed down a little; "And I'm not talking about the length of the road."

"You are right, Master Perin," Gráin answered; "But I wouldn't have it any other way!" And as the trio laughed some more Gráin was sure he could hear the voices of Merenwen, Alcyávëiel, Callo and Nalin join their glee.

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[ July 15, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Epilogue

Here ends the tale of the quest for the dragon, a mighty cold drake who thought to make himself impregnable by constructing a marvelous coat of mail. The companions were careful to gut the cave with fire so that no evil creature could ever again claim the armor as its own. With the death of the mighty beast, the captives were freed and quickly restored to their families and friends. Once more King Thrainduil was able to smile, and the trade between the communities of Dwarves, Men and Elves again grew and thrived.

None of the companions ever forgot those they left behind, the men and women who had given their lives so that the dragon could be slain. The memories of the perilous journey and the stories of the bravery of all those in the company were kept forever in their hearts and passed down to their children and grandchildren. So it is today that we salute these heroes from ages past and seek to recall a tiny piece of their dream. May we be ever mindful of our own obligation to rid the world of shadow, just as they were of theirs.

Transcribed this day from Westron to English by Lenwe the Elf, the 25th day of Lairë, the 7th Age, on the isle of Tol Eressëa