The Threat of the Trees: RPG

[mark12_30]

An arrow grazed his cheekbone, and another ripped through his cloak. He loosed his own, which did not miss; he nocked another, and loosed it, and it lodged in the throat of an easterling, who staggered but did not fall.

He nocked a third, and glanced towards Kalir and the Easterling who had confronted him; LinGalad could not get off a clear shot, so he breathed a quick blessing on Kalir, and looked away. He found a third target, and shot; the Easterling fell.

Elation filled him, and he nocked a fourth, and glanced over at Avery. She was holding her own, but he had a clear shot at her adversary, and he took it. The Easterling fell. He gave a shout of joy.

It was followed by a gasp; his thigh had been hit by an arrow. His face twisted, and Kalir turned. Clenching his teeth, he nocked another arrow. Kalir began to back towards LinGalad.

Kalir's adversary saw his concern, and pressed him hard. LinGalad loosed his arrow at him, and it flew wide. The Easterling laughed, and Kalir saw another Easterling closing in rapidly on the wounded elf. He shouted a warning to LinGalad.

LinGalad hesitated: Arrow, or sword? But then drew, and faced the Easterling. Kalir arrived at his side, and now there were two against two. None of LinGalad's training had prepared him for this; he needed to avoid Kalir as he swung his blade. He clenched his teeth harder, turned slightly so that his back was towards Kalir, and fought in earnest. Kalir's opponent fell wounded, and then Kalir killed the other Easterling with a backstroke the next moment.

He had no time to celebrate. "Ajada!" he shouted, and LinGalad turned to see the scribe retreating towards the Entwife, fighting as best she could. The two headed for her. Kalir got there first, and fought hard. LinGalad paused, and returned to his bow and arrows, limping.

The melee was too close. He scanned and scanned, looking for a clear shot, and finally he saw one. Endereth's opponent staggered, with LinGalad's arrow in his shoulder, and Endereth stepped forward to finish him off.

He nocked another arrow, and turned, and saw that he had a clear shot at Mattius' opponent; his arrow sped, passing through the Easterling's arm, who cried out in pain. Mattius' blade flashed and the Easterling fell.

LinGalad's elation was short-lived. After passing through the Easterling's arm, his arrow had pierced Mattius' sword shoulder. LinGalad's heart plummeted as he watched Mattius stagger, grimace, and then master himself, and resume fighting.

Then an Easterling confronted him, and he drew his blade once more. Sick at heart, he braced himself. What courage he had felt was gone; he now was shaking and dry-mouthed. Gritting his teeth ever harder, he fought his rising panic. A minute later, his head clearing, he realised he had killed the Easterling. He shuddered, and then looked around.

[VanimaEdhel]

Navru ran into battle. He drew his sword and fought the man that faced him. The man next to him screamed and fell. Navru looked at the man in surprise. He had not intended anyone to get killed. He hoped it would be just another mission that would be completed without danger. This was obviously different.

Another man screamed and fell, dead upon hitting the ground. The archers continued to fire. The company seemed to be avoiding the arrows, though. Navru thought he saw a man from the other party go down. He hoped that the man was dead. The man, it was an Elf, in fact, rose again. Navru began to panic. This was not going well. They had to get the tree. If nothing, else, they needed the tree.

Navru heard a scream from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the archers begin to fall. A group had found the archers. This was not going well at all.

"Get the tree!" he yelled, "Get the tree and then run!"

Navru ran with the men towards the tree, attempting to fight those around them. Navru saw the injured Elf. He had to kill the Elf. If nothing else, he had to kill at least one member of the party. He did not know what other members had fallen, but the Elf would satisfy if all others were left unscathed.

Navru met blades with the Elf. The Elf was strong and met Navru's blade defiantly, if not a bit frantically. Navru tried again to no avail. He felt himself driven back. His panic began to increase as he could not get his footing back.

Sharp pain. Navru gasped. He could not take a breath in. He tried to inhale again to no avail. He rolled his eyes a little in pain and looked down. He felt the steel slide from his stomach. Air flowed into his lungs a little, but it did not seem to help. The yells of the men seemed more distant.

He saw Ataman. He had been one of the few who married for love. She was so beautiful. What was she doing now? She was probably doing the laundry with Bosha and Goman around her heels. Bosha was getting so pretty. She was only five, but she already looked as beautiful as her mother.

He felt the steel again. No, he did not feel, but he knew it was there. He felt sleepy. He closed he eyes. Navru knew his body hit the ground, but he did not care. Everything faded as sleep overtook Navru. As the pleasant darkness finally closed over his eyes, he saw Ataman beckon to him. He smiled and entered her arms and the darkness beyond.

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

Kalir saw LinGalad fighting an Easterling. The Easterling fell at the blade of his injured comrade. The Man had an odd look in his eye. Kalir shivered. It was almost as though the man was happy to die. He came to his senses and blocked the blows of another Easterling. He ran towards LinGalad.

"Come! You should not fight!" Kalir shouted above the roar of the rest of the fighting. He half-dragged LinGalad back. Adrenaline obviously flowed through LinGalad's veins, and he proved a formidable opponent to rope down.

Kalir and LinGalad reached the Entwife and stood with the others, attempting to ward off the Easterlings that ran at them, heedless of their fate.

[mark12_30]

LinGalad blinked as Kalir dragged him towards the Entwife. He was grateful for the compassion, but felt guilty about leaving the fray.

He need not have worried. The Easterlings pressed them hard, and Kalir had to let go of LinGalad and resume fighting. LinGalad limped along, with his back to Kalir, and fought as best he could.

His elf-ears picked up several sounds that to the man were lost in the confusion. One, was the sound of an Easterling's voice standing over the body of the man LinGalad had killed. "Navru! Navru!" the soldier cried, rage mixed with grief; and then the grief turned to a revengeful battle cry. The Easterlings took it up, in their strange tongue, and LinGalad knew the battle was only going to get worse.

The other sound began as a low moan from the Entwife, but the sound grew 'til it resembled an old, sad tree groaning and creaking in a storm.

LinGalad understood, but could not comfort her now.

He fought on.

[ October 27, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Mattius]

The fighting had become intense, from all directions easterlings poured forth with arrows raining in without rest. Mattius unleashed Angmarth, who danced with pleasure at being used and flashed with dark blood. All around there were screams of their attackers but one shook Mattius to the core. LinGalad had taken a hit to his leg, an arrow had pierced him and the voice used for sweet elven songs, was distraught with pain and anguish.

Temporarily turning to see, Mattius watched as the elf managed to overcome the pain of his wound and carry on the fight. Just in time the one thousand year old elf turned back to see an easterling of some size race towards him from the trees. They exchanged sword blows and the elf seemed to be getting beat until an elvish arrow sped and pierced the big man's arm, giving Mattius the chance to slit the neck and break the jaw of his enemy. It was after he fell that Mattius felt the pain in his right arm, burning and freezing and the same time, he knew then it was an elven arrow. Fortunately not poisoned as the easterling's were.

Struggling he broke off the shaft as close to the end as possible, switched his sword to his left hand and battled on. LinGalad had managed to pierce him with an arrow, he would have to make a joke about it later and see if the minstrel would understand it.

[ October 30, 2003: Message edited by: Mattius ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

The clash of swordplay resounded through the grove as Peachblossom reached out to toss aside one of the Easterlings who was bearing down upon her with a burning torch. Grappling him about the waist, she flung his body to the ground, but another swarm of soldiers again surged ahead, encircling her while holding aloft their hated firebrands.

Two giant strides towards the edge of the encampment brought her within arm's length of a rocky overhang on which rested a cluster of giant boulders. Bending low, the Entwife seized one of these and lifted it effortlessly to her shoulder, then darted forward towards her pursuers, searching for an opening in the fray where she could at least get a clear path to heave her rock. But there were so many combattants wedged into the tiny space that it was impossible for her to pick a target without risking injury to others who fought on her behalf.

With one final effort, she lunged out and grabbed a tree limb that had fallen to the ground, brandishing it high over her head and, with a howl, charged towards her would-be captors. Almost simultaneously, five torches came hurtling through the air, three of them thudding harmlessly onto the forest floor and two catching her full in the side. Terrible pain caught hold as the leaping flames seared her branches and bark, even spreading to her legs, which had already been sorely injured by the dragging chains and manacles. She leaned back hopeless against a great oak tree, feeling her trunk waver and slowly give way under the rushing onslaught of small bodies swarming over her like tiny ants atop a great mound.

One time, Peachblossom tried to rouse; her body lurching to the left, she struggled to rise, but then sank back in despair. All about her were images of death. Bodies lying amid the grass and bracken, other Elves and Men fighting on despite grievous injuries.

Her only purpose in coming here was to deliver a message that would save these folk from attack. Instead, she had brought violence straight towards them. And there was no reason for any of this to continue. She had delivered her message. The only reason the Easterlings now fought was to drag her back to the plantation. If she simply stopped fighting, if she let her body lie limp, they would return triumphant to their camp dragging her along and leave the Men and Elves to live.

With a certainty that what she did was right, Peachblossom let her head slip back and made no resistence as the chains and manacles were again locked in place. With the torches threatening her from behind, she struggled to her feet and let herself be dragged off into the forest back towards her imprisonment. Her mind reached out to the others with one last frantic message. Please, protect yourself. Rally your forces against the army from Rhun. And perhaps someday you may come and set my sisters free.....

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Ajada shuddered each time she heard the clank of swordplay behind her. Her hands were protectively clutching the back of her head and neck, as she lay face-down against the forest floor. She was hidden by a large, fallen tree limb, and had scruched her body into a tight ball with her knees bent toward her chest. Any parchment the scribe still had lay strewn about in the clearing, and Ajada woefully wondered what she'd do without her materials. She had tried to fight bravely, really she had. But what could she really do with little to no fighting skills?

Ajada continued to scold herself as she waited for the battle to end. Ajada tried to pick up any of her papers that she could reach without releasing her body from it's cacoon, telling herself that master Leo would be ashamed of her actions. Not for cowering or running to the sidelines to hide; in fact, that was what Leo might have preferred in such a situation.

"A writer never leaps in on the action, but lets things occur naturally," Ajada began to recite Leo's words shakily. "A reporter must never become involved, emotionally or physically, lest they be biased or close-minded to possibilities of the future. Leo says..."

But Ajada did not continue reciting, for she noticed that all noise in the clearing had become dull, and soon there was no sound but the rustling of leaves under weary feet. Taking a risk by looking up, Ajada found to her relief that all the Easterlings had gone, but so had the big talking tree. Kalir and LinGalad were still there, but Ajada was onto their scheme and had naught to worry about so long as they did not leave her sight.

Ajada stood and began to pick up her papers, ignoring the clean-up work being done by her companions. While her companions were recuperating and tending wounds, Ajada was organizing papers and packing writing materials away. When she was finished all she had left in her hands were two pieces of parchment and a pencil that she had recovered from the dirt.

"What exactly was that all about?" Ajada demanded, ready to take down the exact words of anyone who decided to answer her (especially Kalir or LinGalad). Ajada sighed when no one answered her. "Was it all for that huge tree thing? The Ent?" At this comment a few of her companions glared at Ajada, as if ready to pounce on her. Others just rolled their eyes, some in pity and some in disgust or annoyance. Ajada wrote down each reaction.

"Well, metophorically speaking, we've gotten ourselves into some pickle!" Ajada exclaimed with an air of delayed dignity. "What, pray tell, are we going to do now, hmm?"

[mark12_30]

Kalir spared Ajada one glance before he turned to LinGalad, and began wordlessly helping him to sit down at the edge of the stream. "Wash it, " he said curtly, and LinGalad nodded.

Mattius drew near, and LinGalad blushed. "I am so sorry."

"Neither of us did a good job ducking, " Mattius smiled. "Wash it for me, please."

"Of course, " LinGalad said. "I'll poultice it, too, if--"

"Here, " said Kalir, and handed him several handfuls of fern, grass, and moss.

Embarassed still, LinGalad discarded the moss. "Moss only helps trees, " he muttered.

"And I am certainly not a tree, " chirped Mattius. LinGalad glared at him, and Mattius laughed.

"Very funny, " Radagast said. "But we've lost the Entwife, and we are no no closer to resolving our questions or taming the forest, are we?"

[Mattius]

The group took a quick look around, there were many dead bodies littering the forest floor.

"Easterling's by the look of them," said Mattius as he turned over a corpse revealing a fatal sword wound to the stomach, "this one looked to be leading them." Mattius looked over at the wizard, "The Entwife was not lying."

"Come, we must warn Gondor, I suggest we travel there immediately with all speed. We do not have time to answer the riddles of how the Easterlings have managed to capture so many Entwives and become so powerful."

No time to answer riddles, contemplated Mattius, was that not what wizards were born for? His thoughts were cut short when he heard a cry from Calen; she had found the body of Endereth.

[Brinniel]

Calentoliel froze in place as her dark eyes fixed upon Endereth’s broken body. Her heart dropped three feet and her stomach felt as if it had been punched with an iron fist. Calentoliel could see the many arrows protruding from Ender’s chest and knew she was fading.

Before any more doubt could take her, the elf ran to her friend’s side.
“Endereth!” she cried out in fear.
Ender’s eyes flickered a moment before opening. “Calentoliel,” she replied, squinting up at the other elf as she faltered a smile. Tears streamed down her dirty face and a froth of blood covered her bottom lip as she opened her mouth once more. “I feel so….cold.” Endereth’s voice wavered as she spoke. She blinked a couple more times, and then her eyes fixed, gazing blankly at Calentoliel.

The elf could hold back no more. She let go a sob as streams of tears fell from her face. Endereth was the one from the group she had known longest. It was she whom Calentoliel first met on her adventure in the Blue Mountains. Aside from Rothalle, Ender had been her closest friend. The two shared a connection that Calentoliel could not explain. And the elf could not understand how this connection could suddenly be gone. She felt as if a part of her had been stolen away. Over the many years, Calentoliel had seen several pass into the shadow, but never did she imagine she would have to see the same for her best friend, another elf. Grief mixed with confusion overwhelmed her, and for several moments Calentoliel was left weeping uncontrollably for her dead friend. She did not stop nor pay heed to her surroundings until she felt the hand of Mattius press down gently on her shoulder.
“Endereth will find her way to the Halls of Mandos,” he consoled. “There she will be reunited with her long departed friends.”

Calentoliel was distracted when she heard another grief-stricken cry. In the corner of her eye, she could see that another companion had fallen; Anarya, the young blacksmith who was always so determined. Others sat by her corpse and grieved for her passing.

Mattius’s grip on her shoulder tightened, and from that Calentoliel was able to find enough strength to pull herself back together. Brushing away her tears, she closed her eyes and began to sing softly in her own language. As she sang, it grew dark and the company could feel raindrops fall through the dense forest. Calentoliel continued to sing for several minutes before her voice faltered. It wasn’t until then that the rain ceased and all was silent.

Mattius’s hand left Calentoliel’s shoulder.
"Hiro îth ab 'wanath," he whispered. “May they find peace after death.”
Calentoliel nodded at his words as she stood up. “Namarië, Endereth Naurelyr,” she spoke, barely audible. “May you be happier in the Halls of Mandos than you ever were in Middle-earth.” Calentoliel then turned away and never again did she look upon the fair face of her friend.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Saelonia and General Narrative

Saelonia stood at the edge of the encampment, warily scanning the clearing ahead and the nearest grove of trees just beyond it as she strained to glimpse solid forms and figures through the dusky twilight mist. There was no sign of the men's return. Yet the scouting party had left early that morning and, by all rights, should have completed their task many hours before.

Already, the moon rose into the heavens and a screech owl sounded an eerie call into the night. At that instant, the sentry on duty came sprinting forward and made his way up the path to Saelonia's side, saluting her, "Lady, they come." He nodded and pointed towards the trees, but seemed hesitent to speak further and then drew back, disappearing into the woods.

In the distance, Saelonia could hear the slow clanging of the Entwife's chains and the muffled noises made by the returning soldiers. There was no victory in their steps. Rather, the procession made its painful way towards the camp with many of the soliders wounded, some carried in makeshift stretchers or leaning heavily on sticks they had wrenched from trees along the side of the path. Azunal rode at the front of the column, slumped forward in his saddle, and Altair followed close behind. Saelonia's breathing came easier once she'd seen the two men together for there would be no forgiveness or excuses if any misfortune had befallen the Khan's young son. Still, too many other soldiers were missing from the group.

Azunal pushed forward and dismounted, awkwardly going down on one knee, then staring at the ground and refusing to meet Saelonia's eyes. Wth much nervousness, he looked up to face her and began explaining what had happened, how the soldiers had tracked the Entwife to the enemy's encampment and had engaged in fierce fighting to destroy the band of Elves and Men. The enemy, he declared, had been utterly destroyed, with only a few men surviving and those so sorely wounded that they were unable to go forward or cause any further harm.

"Are you certain?" she pressed him. Her voice was cold and hard. "For we do not know what message the Entwife brought to them. And if they warn their own people, it may go ill with us. If any still live, they must be slain." For an instant, Azunal shifted his eyes away, but then turned back to face her, speaking in a voice as firm as her own. "They are destroyed, utterly destroyed, and will do us no further harm."

"Then our plans have not changed. Tomorrow you will lead the huorn in the direction of Isengard. Burn and pillage the plains of Rohan. Kill whom you must, but leave some alive to carry the message of who we are and that we will brook no denial of our claims. The King of Gondor will hear of this carnage and, soft hearted fool that he is, will come to the aid of the Rohirrim who have always been much in his heart. He will forget his northern border, forget the kingdom of Rhun that lies far to the east, and never see the Khan's army make its way along the Ash Mountains or through the Dead Marshes to strike in the heart of Gondor.

For the next several weeks, Azunal led his men along with a large band of the huorn into the plains of Rohan, never stopping in one spot for more than a day but driving speedily towards Isengard. Along the way, they launched quick attacks under cover of darkness, avoiding large settlements but burning and pillaging nearby farmhouses with little mercy. Farmers who were not afraid to battle the attacking soldiers found themselves powerless when faced with the huorn who fought with a madness and rage that struck fear into the hearts of all they encountered.

Mounted horsemen were quickly dispatched from Edoras to try and put a halt to the sporadic destruction. Rohan hastily forwarded a message to the court in Minas Tirith, warning them of the new threat to the West. The King of Gondor promised to send further aid as all attention focused on the lands west of the river.

Yet, on another secret trail, the Khan and a great army made their way westward along the northern border of Mordor in the shadow of the Ered Lithui. This band was a mighty one, far greater than the number of soldiers who had been sent out to Rohan. They met few travellers along their desolate route, and those they met were quickly killed. By this means, they came to the marshlands that lie north and west of Minas Tirith at a point called the Wetwang or the Nindalf. Their destination lay just off the Anduin River at a point near the base of the Rauros Falls. Although close to Minas Tirith, this was a grey and desolate land largely unguarded and mired in mud. With a small band of soldiers at her side, Saelonia met the approaching armies of the Khan and showed him the hidden spot that she had chosen for them to set up the encampment and prepare for the attack.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:42 PM December 24, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

General Narrative for Radagast & Co.

The nervous anxiety of post-battle had reached its peak when the group found two of their companions dead upon the forest floor. Endereth and Anarya had passed during battle; many tears were shed for them. Calentoliel wept and Mattius mourned for their dear friend Endereth, memories of past times with her flashing through their minds. Anarya, though not well known to any other person in the group, was mourned and spoken very highly of for her skills and ability to somehow be strong and gentle at the same time. Everyone agreed (perhaps some more reluctantly than others) that there was little they could do for the two ladies' bodies, but all spoke of hope for their souls. And so the crew began to depart the forest of Fangorn.

They trudged through the foliage solemnly and quietly. No one asked Radagast questions, no one spoke to one another, and Ajada had even put away all of her writing things. It seemed to be a mutual pact of silence in the wood which would be the unfortunate resting place of former companions. Radagast led the way with grim determination, with Calentoliel and LinGalad following close behind. Kalir and Avery took up the middle of the group, Ajada just behind them. Mattius brought up the rear with a hand upon the hilt of his sword. The trip back-tracking to Isengard did not seem long, either because they walked with an urgency driven by the information given by the entwife or because of the terrible memories and thing that had happened within the forest. Whichever it was, they soon arrived at the edge of Fangorn.

Kalir and LinGalad began to turn to the west, while Radagast led the rest of the crew south-east to make for the Great West Road and follow it to Minas Tirith. Radagast, Mattius, Avery, Calentoliel, and Ajada would attest to the King and inform him of the threat and the armies gathering in the north. Kalir and LinGalad were going to Kalir's home, near Isengard. Fond farewells and promises of reunions were exchanged and soon both groups were off on their seperate ways. Ajada turned away to follow Radagast without saying another word, but then she thought of something and called ahead to Radagast, telling him that she would be there in a moment. Then Ajada darted back to catch Kalir and LinGalad.

"Wait!" Ajada called, pulling her sack of writing materials off her back as she ran and they stopped and turned around. Kalir and LinGalad waited, eyeing Ajada with questions in their eyes. Ajada withdrew from her bag a large packet of papers, handing them to Kalir as she formed an explaination. "These are the papers that contain every single thing I've written down about you two. Every absurd observation and accustation and description I've ever considered reporting since meeting you. You can laugh at them and keep them or burn them, whatever you wish."

LinGalad and Kalir chuckled, sifting through the papers momentarily before packing them away for later. Ajada noticed her other companions getting farther and farther away, and with a slightly reluctant hug to LinGalad and Kalir, she ran back off to catch up with with her group. Avery looked at Ajada with unconcerned venom, but in little time she returned to sipping water out of her canteen. When Mattius asked if she was alright Avery nodded and said she just felt a little feverish. Few words were spoken after this as the group made their way towards the road.

They were anxious with an unspoken fear that they might be too late - that they were too slow - as they reached the road a couple days later. They traveled most of another day along the road, and ran into a large army of Gondorian soldiers late that very night. Radagast was able to get three horses from the kind men, and was also able to get information. It was not a surprise to Radagast when the leader of the force told him that Easterlings were tearing up Rohan's countryside. The wizard had more trouble trying to convince and explaining to them that the destruction was only a ploy for distraction from the Marshes. The captain refused the suggestion of turning his group back to Minas Tirith to go to the Marshes later, calmly explaining that it would be considered disobeying his orders.

In the end Radagast and the group left the army of Gondorian soldiers as they rode off to relieve and help the Rohirrim. Radagast sighed at this lost battle of words as he mounted his horse. Calentoliel and Avery shared a horse, as did Mattius and Ajada. Galloping off into the night, the group hastened to reach Minas Tirith in time before it was too late to save Gondor from the wrath of the Easterlings.

With their horses, Radagast and his companions were able to make very good time, and were at the gates of Minas Tirith in half the time it would have taken them to travel by foot. The guardsmen at the gate allowed the group entry into Minas Tirith without any questions or complaints, recognizing Radagast's title and the mission he had been sent off to complete. Soon the group was on its way to the court of the King of Gondor, King Aratar (a descendant of one of King Elessar's daughters) to imform him of the army gathering in the north.

Radagast held council with Aratar and his advisors alone at first, but soon the rest of the company was herded in to add to the findings and reinforce what the wizard had told the King. Ajada offered the drawings of the entwife and all the quotes (exact quotes and no less, of course) that she'd collected from the tree-woman. Mattius, Calentoliel, and Avery included and added what they knew, and soon the group was shooed away while the King and his advisors debated.

When the group was allowed back into the room, Aratar informed the group that the evidence was enough to convince him and his adivors of the validity and seriousness of the situation. One of the advisors assured the group that an army would be assembled for the purpose of exstinguishing the threat that the Easterlings had proved to be. Then the King dismissed the group, informing them that everything would be handled by the army now.

"But sir!" Avery cried out, and Aratar whipped around to face Avery. Avery bowed with respect and as an apology for the outcry. Soon all eyes were on the young woman, and with a strong, unwavering voice she continued her exclaimation. "Sir, we've come so far! Was it not our mission for you that we should uncover the problem in Fangorn and get rid of it? Well, we've found the problem, but we still have half a mission to complete!"

Radagast smiled warmly at Avery, pride glimmering in his eyes, as did Mattius and Calentoliel. Ajada was pleasantly surprised, passively wondering where the thief girl who didn't care had gone and who was the person replacing her. Aratar considered Avery's words, and after a time he agreed to her request and promised that the group would be allowed to continue on the journey with the army. Before dismissing them, Aratar told them that the army would be assembled by dawn the next morning, and that they would leave for the Marshes soon after dawn.

The next morning the army left Minas Tirith, crossing the Anduin at Osgiliath and travelling north towards North Ithilien. Passing through North Ithilien was the last time they felt remotely safe. As they passed the border into Nindalf their once-hopeful spirits dimmed with the setting sun, and everyone realized that, while they knew what area the enemy would be in, they had no idea where exactly they would be hiding. Light-hearted joking ceased and a pall of seriousness had befallen the army as Radagast led them farther west towards the Anduin and the Falls of Rauros.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:38 PM December 27, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]