RP: Crimson Sword

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Silence, sister!"
Elanor turned sharply at the last word. Sister!? Her mind boggled. Ransom looked at her and she shrugged at him, raising an eyebrow.
The pair whispered at each other for a moment, like miniture shouting, before Elwyn turned away. Elanor saw tears in her eyes as the warrior maid walked on. The witch touched her friend lightly on the arm. Elwyn whirled around angrily, but stopped as she saw it was Elanor. The mortal girl smiled at her.
"You must think Im terrible to treat my sister this way." Elwyns voice was hard with concealed tears. "But you saw what she did- how she treated the boys and now this...what can I do?" She finished defensively.
"Its alright." Elanors mind was still whirling but her voice was soothing. "I know you to not be a monster- but may I release her from the control spell? Its just...well, controlling a person..." She tailed off.
Elwyn regarded her for a moment, then looked back to Mithwyn and nodded briefly before walking on.
Elanor turned to Mithwyn. Maybe just a little look before she let her go...
No! She shook her head angrily. She couldnt just go probing into others brains! But she didnt put up the barrier either and she felt a slight spark emanate from the puppet elf as she stepped towards her. A spark of magic.
"You are a witch?" She murmered? Mithwyn looked at her fearfully, as she was still held in Elanors power, but with the same rebellious spark as...as her sister.
"Not any more." the elf spoke bitterly. "He made sure of that. Aravelenon."
"The sorcerer?" Oh Yavanna! This was bad. He could steal powers? Or was it gold again?
She expelled the controlling spell and Mithwyn collapsed forward, but Elanor didnt catch her. Scrambling up to stand on numb legs the elf glared at her but said nothing. Elanor turned to address the other two.
"Hurry. We have little time." She walked swiftly up to Elwyn; they walked at the front, with Mithwyn behind, and Ransom bringing up the rear, keeping a watchful eye on the rogue elf.
Come on Bulvard...We need the skills of the others...and I need you... Elanor sent out an image of herself to the warrior, realising he was not far at all from the castle, with 'Calixto' leading them. They were actually outside, and no doubt they would meet Aravelenon as the Ransom, the elves and the witch did.
Biting her lip in anticipation and worry, Elanor walked swiftly on...

[Ransom]

The first arrows skipped off the stone hallways around the Inquisitor, startling but not hurting the group. The crude battle cry of the orcs echoed down the hallway, their actual forms lost in the shadows. Ransom spun, trying to catch sight of the assailants.

A score of heavily armed and armored orcs rounded the corner. The first rank, armed with a short spear, charged forward. The remainder clanged their swords against long iron shield, careful to lag behind the first wave. They had been warned that the group of escapees contained a witch. Ten more short orcs followed them, enthusiastically firing at the former convicts.

Ransom felt a sharp flash of pain as an arrow punched through his armor at the elbow. The spearorcs were soon upon him, prodding his armor as he swung his halberd in a wide arc, struggling to stem the tide. His mind began to work, directing his powerful swings toward the nearest ork. The battle cry of the Inquisition rang down the corridor, fighting against the roar of dark cry. “Perish not the unclean to live!”

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor ducked as an arrow flew over her head, muttering a few dark words. She saw Ransom jerk and heard him inhale sharply. Looking over she saw him pull an arrow from his arm. Unsheathing his sword, he glanced at the others before letting fly on the orcs.

Nearby, Elwyn too had withdrawn her bow and had started to let fly with deadly accuracy.

Elanor let the thoughts of the orcs flow into her mind, and after a few seconds she opened her eyes. She smiled to herself- they knew she was there. Satisfaction covered a little of the fear she felt. Well, if they expected a witch...
Mithwyn was hovering behind her, unsure what to do. Elanor turned to face her.
"You have two career choices here." Elanor couldnt bring herself to give Mithwyn her name. "One of them will bring you time, trust and loyalty."
Mithwyn glared back. "And the other?"
Once again Elanor smiled the smile of a crocodile whos just found his dinner.
"The other is a quick choice. Very, very quick. And Ransom will be assisting you in that career line."
Mithwyn glanced at the black demon sending orcs flying and swallowed hard. Elanor unsheathed her sword.
"The handle...or the other end?"
The elf hesitated briefly before taking the sword handle. Elanor nodded but did not smile.
"Good choice- Death isnt a great boss." She turned back to face the melee. "Dont use to much energy- theyre just illusions; hold that thought!"
"Theyre bleeding solid illusions witch!" Ransom yelled back.

Flicking her fingers our from her balled hands, the human concentrated on the fire inside her. A small ball of magefire appeared in each hand. Pressing the minds of her enemies briefly, catching their attention she walked forward. She smiled and raised an eyebrow and some of the smarter orcs suddenly caught on to who the fireballs would be aimed at. Putting both hands to her lips she blew gently...and the fire sparked up and shot into the rapidly scrambling away orcs, killing half and sending the scalded remainder scrabbling down the corridor as fast as they could.

Ransom flinched as the magefire had shot down the tunnel, but Elanor had dealt with that- no flame had harmed him; the most her got was a little sooty. Elwyn had already come back to the her friend, sword still drawn. Mithwyn, her sword not even bloody was looking with chronic jealousy at
the witch.
"Right. More will be along in a moment, but i beg you- concentrate on the fact they are not real. Nowhere near a solid as they look."
"I sure thatll comfor me when Im fighting." Muttered Ransom, but he was smiling slightly.
"Ok." Elanro took a deep breath. "Sorcerer..."

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn muttered a curse, and slayed a few oncoming orcs. She decided to concentrate her anger on the orcs, secretly pretending they were Elwyn and Aravelenon. She was so jealous of her sister, who still had her magics. Mithwyn had stopped fighting and just stood there, her mind full of thoughts of jealousy and anger.
"Are you going to fight or not, trader?" Ransom called to the powerless witch.
She shot him a glare, and fought a few more orcs.
"Remember! They are ILLUSIONS!!" Elwyn cried, and hurried down the hall to meet the last of them.

[Elenna]

The companions and Mithwyn met their enemies head on. They were illusions, and merely disappeared when struck with a blade, but their swords and spears were horribly real. Elwyn found this out, a cutlass opening a long, ugly gash on her sword arm. She stepped back, gasping. Barely aware of her surroundings, she saw Mithwyn step forward, and, through a haze of pain, she thought she heard the dark haired sorceress say "Get behind me, sister!"

Elwyn complied, momentarily forgetting what her twin had done, and her terrible oath.

[Aireglin]

A loud clank awoke her from her dreamless slumber. 'what was that...' she thought to herself. Her limp body was spralled apon the cool floor and her cloths were tattered and blood stained from the many wounds that lay about her body 'I smell blood...someone is fighting...if only I had the strength to stand...' It had been weeks, maybe even months, since she had had her last meal, or anything to drink for that matter. Her body was worn from lack of nuriousment and blood. She could not remember how she came about this place...all she knew was that torture was one of the Orcs favorite pas-times. 'Maybe...maybe whom ever is out there...maybe they will help me...I have nothing else to loose' She tired depratly to get up but her arms failed her. 'I can't give up...not this time' She gazed at the door ahead of her, her mind calcutaling every possible way to get attention. For someone to look into this room. Her mind,though, was worn as well all she could think of was to try and yell. She parted her chapped lips "Help..anyone..." Her voice came out at a barley adible whisper. Her throat was cracked and dry and she suddenly felt a wave of hopelessness wash over her 'I can't die down here...I won't die down here' She moved her eyes about the room once more 'There has to be something...anything...There!' She spotted chains with which her "former roomate" had been shackled to the walls with. 'They aren't too far...I must try and reach them...' Using some of the last bit of strength she had left in her body she reached out barely touching the chains. 'Just a little more...' she closed her eyes using everthing, trying to move closer. Success! Her fingers wrapped lightly around one of the chain links and pulled it to her. A loud rattling noise escapes, as the other cell member's bones fall and the chain clangs against itself 'Yes! I've done it...now...if it be fiting please someone here this...' she drops the chain with a thud, her breath shakey from all the exersion. 'Please...don't let me die down here' She waits, and suddenly footsteps can be heard coming in her direction. "Help" she tries despratly to call out again but to no avail. She takes a deep breath and with more power than what she thought she had, she manages a small hoarsh yell "HELP!"

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor focused on the crystal hanging in front of her, forcing herself to concentrate. She had to know where the others were and how they were? Had Calixto revealed himself? Were they inside the castle-
She quelled the questions and took a deep breath. Looking up she caught Ransoms eye. The inquisitor nodded briefly.
"Ill watch your back, but get a move on witch!"
She smiled gratefully at him and focused once again on the crystal.

They were inside the citadel already. She could hear the sounds of the battle faintly in the background and Bulvard had too. He put his hand on his sword hilt, but Calixto stopped him.
"No!"
Bulvard frowned, puzzled. "Why? I...if an enemy comes along, I want to be able to fight-"
"They will not!" Calixtos reply was swift and desperate. Bulvards sister now came to his aid in her usual arrogant manner.
"How is it that you should tell us what to do?"
"Your brother is in my service."
"I am not!"
Calixto pressed his face only a few centimetres from hers, but his outline was wavering. "Then you shall soon be in deaths hold!"
As the warrior woman now unsheathed her sword, Calixto vanished. In his place lay simply the dead body of the man he had once been.
Tumna was shaking violently and Bulvard drew his sword too, looking around for some explanation. He knelt beside her...put his..arm..around her shoulder...s...
"Lets go...and..."

Elanor did not hear the last bit of what he said, as the scene broke up as she lost concentration. No! It wasnt fair!
She stood abruptly, rage filling her, ignoring Ransoms questioning look. "No illusion shall stand in my way!" Her voice was clear and hard as she faced the orcs.
"Wanva!" She cried, and magefire once again shot from her hands as a quick barrier. The orcs yelped wildly, scrambling backwards. Elanors continued to walk steadily after them, her hands raised for the next spell until she heard something that stopped her in her tracks.
"Help..."
The feeble cry made her look towards the door beside her, although she thought she must have imagined it. Then again...
"Help me!" It was stronger now. Calming down slightly, the witch used the point of one sai to unlock the door.
Flinging it open she walked into the dimness, and a foul smell hit her as she took in the rotting skeleton on the corner. Then a clanking of chains made her look to the other side, squinting into the darkness. A thin woman, bloodstained and ragged was struggling to stand. Her mouth twisted into an almost smile as she reached out to the witch with one scarred hand and Elanor caught her as she fell.
"At last..."
Elano stared with raised eyebrows for a moment before she called out.
"Elwyn, Mithwyn, Ransom...little help here?"

[Aireglin]

The door creaked as someone unlocked it and pushed it open. A woman stepped into the room, her hair black and her eyes filled with questionablity. She apeared to be human but Nuinlómë didn't care who or what she was because finally she would be free, finally she could hear birds and feel the wind against her face again. "At last..." Nuin says, reaching out for her and almost exploding with joy. Her savor had finally come. The woman came over, suprise and shock spilling over her face. "thank you" Nuin mouthed, unable to speak, filled with hope. "Elwyn, Mithwyn, Ransom...little help here?" said the woman, lifting up Nuin's witherd body. "What's you name?" she says looking into Nuins eyes. "Nui...Nuinlómë" she replied, tear forming in her eyes, "and you are my savor" She gripped the womans hand, unconsiousness over taking her. "My savor..." she whispered before falling into darkness.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"My saviour..." The woman fell limp in Elanors arms. The witch stared at her incredulously.
"So not my day...Elwyn?"
"Im here." Elwyn entered the cell, but stopped dead as she saw Nuin. "Whats this?"
"She was calling...oh by the valar, someone is going to pay for this!" Elanor put her hand to the womans head, probing ever so slightly, but pulled her hand away as if it had been burnt as she felt the pain of the months Nuinlome had endured.
She shook her head to try and clear the pain away. "Her name is Nuinlome, and someone here is going to die for the way she had been treated."

The healer elf came forward, concern written on her face as she glanced in horror at the bloodstained form.
"Can you help her Elwyn? Your strengths lie far more in healing others than mine."
"I...well, I can try. A transfer of energy maybe..." Elwyn muttered to herself as she lay the pathetic form on the floor.

[Shadow_Staar]

"You can't waste your energy on her. You need it Elwyn to fight." Mithwyn protested, her form leaning against the wall.
"And what, let her die? I think not Mithwyn. She may be a valuable asset to our party." Elwyn replied.
"Fine, do as you please." The powerless witch said.
Elwyn muttered something, and soon her body on the one of the girl's were both surrouonded by a soft light...

[ October 20, 2002: Message edited by: Shadow_Staar ]

[Aireglin]

She could feel her strength returning, her body begin to be restored. Her mind was spinning though. Thoughts of olden days, of present and of some she did not recognize, may they be of passed or of ones that have yet to come. "Nuinlome...where have you gone?" "I'm here mother..." "Do not wander so far...you could get hurt" 'Mother?...' "Why are you here child?" "I am no child! I have trained hard and fought well considering everthing that has happen" "Yes...but you still have many more things to learn" "Will you teach me Iarwing?" 'Iarwing...? But he has died...and so has my mother...Is this a dream?...It must be...Then where am I? Nuinlome bolts up from her position on the floor. It takes her a moment to relize everthing that has come to pass in her slumber. She searches her arms, legs, feet, pretty much every place examining her, now faded, cuts. "I am healed..." she mumbles to herself in disbelief. She looks, gratefully, at the people standing about her. "Thank you...I am forever in your debt. If there is anything, anything you could need my help with, then I am at your command. I am Nuinlome of Lothlorien, it is a extreme pleasure to meet you all." Her eyes shine of her happiness, and her smile is that of thankfulness.

[Elenna]

Elwyn placed her fingers on the maiden's temples, feeling how drained her lifelight was, barely a flicker of blue fire at her core. Elwyn began to chant, a honey smooth flow of words warming the air around her, causing the maiden's blue fire to grow a bit. Then, gathering a handful of her own red-gold lifelight, she tried to push it through. But the past few hours, or was it days? had sapped the healer's energy too much. She felt her own light grow dimmer, and she would have pitched forward with exhaustion had a new light not flowed in. This one was a deep burgundy, the color of heart's blood. Elwyn felt new strength filling her, and she completed the healing.

Coming out of the trance, she saw that it was Mithwyn's hand that had given her the extra lifelight. The witch's pale hand gripped Elwyn's tightly, and Mithwyn's expression was one of repressed love. Elwyn jerked away, remembering what it was that had caused her to hate her sister so.

"Don't touch me, witch. NEVER touch me again."

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn drew back, with a look of confusion, she had just helped her sister, had she not?
"Fine sister, I will never touch you, ever, again. I will never help you regain energy, I won't help you in any way at all, ever again. I will just merely sit here and lean against the wall and twittle my thumbs, shall I?" The witch asked.
Elwyn turned away and gave no answer, but Elanor answered her instead.
"No, Mythwin you cannot just sit there and twittle your thumbs, you know things, and we need answers."

[ October 24, 2002: Message edited by: Shadow_Staar ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor bit her lip as Elwyn snapped at her sister. The witch had seen the coloured light flow from Mithwyns hand onto her sister, but it had been clear that she couldnt control her magic before, so it must have been triggered by a powerfl emotion. Like Love...
A look of bewildered hurt crossed Mithwyns face, before it switched back to her familiar look of contempt. Her eyes flicked up and she caught Elanors eyes when the human girl didnt look away fast enough.
"Whats your problem mortal?" She sneered quietly. Didnt mother ever tell you its rude to stare?"
The comment hit deep and the humans gaze caught the elfs. Mithwyn couldnt have known about Elanors past, which almost made it hurt even more...
She remembered the way Elwyns sister had used her magic in the past and the sympathy she had felt minutes ago subsided. Now it was Mithwyn turn to look away. She looked at her sister.
"Fine sister, I will never touch you, ever, again. I will never help you regain energy, I won't help you in any way at all, ever again. I will just merely sit here and lean against the wall and twittle my thumbs, shall I?" The elfwitch asked.
Elwyns face was shrouded in shadow and a layer of hair had fallen across it, covering her expression, but Elanor answered.
"No, you cannot just sit there and twiddle your thumbs." She failed to cover the hate in her voice, pushing aside the vision of the blazing boys. "You know things, and we need answers."
Mithwyns glare sild back to Elanor. "And why would I answer to a lowly mortal-"
"With powers far outdoing yours?" Elanor interrupted.
Mithwyns fists were clenched as she paused. Then she spread them sharply, walking away up the steps. "Whatever." She muttered.
Elanor hadnt realised she had been holding her breath until she let it out quickly. She counted to ten in her head and looked at Elwyn and the woman on the floor. Another elf. The witch knew she shouldnt feel resentful, but she couldnt help it. The woman sat up suddenly.
"Iarwing!"
Elanor raised an eyebrow at Elwyn, who shrugged. Mind probong would be so much quicker...no, immoral, mustnt be blazing immoral.
"And how are you this fine day? I dont belive we've met, Im the only flaming human girl on this quest, plus Im a witch, hey one of a kind, lucky me!"
She bit back these sarcastic words that leapt to her lips and instead nodded to the woman wordlessly. The woman filled in with enough for both of them.
"Thank you...I am forever in your debt. If there is anything, anything you could need my help with, then I am at your command. I am Nuinlome of Lothlorien, it is a extreme pleasure to meet you all."
"Im Elanor Istavaira."
Elwyn seemed to come out of her trance. "Elwyn." She introduced herself shortly.
Elanor held out her hand to the woman, pulling her to her feet. As Nuin started to talk again she held up a hand.
"We shall hear everything later. For now, I think we need to find food. And the others."

[Aireglin]

Though being a bit embarassed about her outburst, she was glad to see people again. Two of them did seem to have a "hostile" relationship, but other than that everyone seemed friendly. "Thank you...I am forever in your debt. If there is anything, anything you could need my help with, then I am at your command. I am Nuinlome of Lothlorien, it is a extreme pleasure to meet you all." Though a bit out winding, she thought it was appropriate to say that, concidering it was all true. "Im Elanor Istavaira." said the one that she had first seen before passing out, "Elwyn." said the other and the last one not saying anything at all. Nuin was still curious, like as in what they were all doing there, but before she could ask anything else Elanor ,obviously sensing her curiousity, stop her by rasing her hand. "We shall hear everything later. For now, I think we need to find food. And the others." Nuin nodded. 'I could use a change of clothes too...' she thought to herself, and mentaly checking her clothes. 'And I wonder how many "others" there are that Lady Elanor was speaking of...I guess I shall soon find out' She follows her new company out of the chamber, and down one of the many hallways. "Which way now?" Said Nuin stopping and looking down the forked path that lay before them.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Which way now?"

"Beats me. Are we following the trail of orcs to the sorcerer or are we looking for the others?" Nuin turned and hastily backed away, fumbling on the ground for a sword as she saw Ransom. Elanor smiled slightly, remembering how shed felt when shed properly met Ransom. Still, there had been arrows flying everywhere at that point...

"Vile demon get back!" The elf croaked through a still sore mouth. Ransom looked mildly affronted.

"Vile demon? Well, thats a fairly new one." He held out a hand, then seemed to think again and repeated the gesture after taking off a gauntlet. "I am Ransom DeViolana. I am with these ladies. You are...?"

Nuin glared at him for a moment, then tried a shakey smile. "My name is Nuinlome." She took his hand. Ransom frowned, realising how thin she was.

"Looks like Im not the only one who could do with a snack. Has any of you any idea how to find food around here?" He looked at Nuin. "You have been here longer havent you? Do you know the whereabouts of any storerooms?"

Nuins smile faded. She was obviously remembering what parts of the castle she did know about...Elanor felt the pain flowing from the elf maiden and almost flinched.

"Well, I suggest fighting on an empty stomach to not be the surest way of defeat. We need to find food, and join up with the others. Where did the orcs come from?" She looked around. Ransom shifted nervously.
"Well, I wasnt exactly looking for where they came from as much as showing them where they could go." He smiled ruefully. Elanor sighed.

"Well, either way works then." She bunched her hands into fists and held them out to the group. "Pick a hand."

Mithwyn rolled her eyes and sighed loudly and angrily. "We're seriously putting our lives on a game of chance?" She sneered. Elwyn shot her a murderous look and tapped one of Elanors hands. "This one."

"Ok. Lets take the right path then." She lit a few of the goblets on the wall with magefire, noting with small satisfaction the look of wonder on Nuins face. She stepped forward. "Valar hope this is the right way. Whichever way that may be..." She muttered under her breath taking the lead.

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn muttered a curse of disatisfaction underbreath. She couldn't believe that they were putting their live in danger! This probably wasn't even the right way!
"Quit pouting and keep up witch, or we will leave you behind!" Elwyn sneered at her sister. Mithwyn glared, and walked faster to keep up.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor walked as confidently as she could aheadf of the group, a bll of magefire hovering above her outstretched hand. The groups footsteps echoed throughout the empty silence of the corridor. She was trying not to even think about how far they were from the sorcerer they were, what would happen if they stumbled in on him and his orcs with their tiny band of a witch, a witch with no powers, a starving elf and two fighters. As well she knew that herself, Elwyn and Ransom fought, and Mithwyn no doubt although she had only really seen her fighting for the enemy....but it would be nothing against the orcs. There was no use in worrying right now though; they had out their lives in the hands of fate...

Eleanor was pondering on just how stupid that had been when she heard voices. Flattening herself against the wall and dimming the magelight to a spark, the others followed and she listened intently for the nature of the voices. In the echoes of the corridor it was impossible to tell clearly even what the creatures were. She exchanged a glance with Elwyn who was just beside her, who put her hand grimly on her sword. Counting silently to three holding up her fingers, the pair leapt out with a yell.

Several things happened at once. Elanors magefire went out altogether, plunging them into absolute darkness. The victims of the attack also started yelling randomly as they realised they were the victims of an attack, and Elanor realised she had made a mistake; despite the echoes and chaos, these were not orc voices. She called to Elwyn, and Mithwyn who now also seemed to have joined them to stop but she couldnt concentrate on getting the magelight to flare up as a figure from the darkness had dived on her and in the darkness seemed to be trying to stab her. Ransom had also joined in now...

"STOP!"

The call echoed throughout the corridor, a strong, confident voice that she thought she recognised. In the silence she fumbled about, removing herself from her assailants grip and concetrating to light a ball of magefire above her hands. Looking around she saw all the figures in various stages of shocked freezeframe and saw that their victims were...

"Bulvard, Aiwyn, Gwyn, Tumnaooriel! At last!" Elanor heard Elwyn shout, delighted. Elanor said nothing, simply staring at Bulvard. Then a slow smile spread across her face. "Bulvard!" She said quietly and hurried over. He grabbed her, hugging her tightly, then realised what he was doing and let go, rather awkwardly. She stood back and smiled shyly at him, then at all of them.

"Well met indeed, friends!" She laughed, producing smiles even from the now rather bruised elves and humans. "Now-"

She stopped, hearing other voices, deeper, more sinister. Someone was looking for them. She gritted her teeth. Well, theyd see who found who first...

[Elenna]

Elwyn gripped her sword hilt tightly. The elf maiden glowed faintly in the light, something that Elanor and Ransom were becoming used to. However, Bulvard and the rest stared openmouthed.

"Long story," muttered Elanor. They all stood, tense as a plucked harpstring, waiting for something to spring at them out of the darkness.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor smiled as she saw the others surprise at Elwyns bizarre appearance then turned back to where the voices seemed to have come from, but the echoes distorted them so badly that they seemed to be coming from all around. The magelight, their only source of light beside Elwyn, sent strange shadows around, making figures leap in the darkness. She tightened her grip on her sais and gritted her teeth.

Then realisation dawned on her and she wasnt the only one as Ransom looked at her alarmed; it wasnt just the echoes. The voices were coming from all around. There were three other corridors splitting from this one and the hideous orc voices were reaching them from all three.

She saw the others work it out and various levels of panic grew on their faces. Elanor motioned a finger to her lips and started feeling around the walls, looking in the dimmed light for a door. Elwyn signalled from further along- shed found a door. Pushing open the door, wincing as the hinges creaked too noisily it seemed to their tightened nerves, the group streamed through the door. As Bulvard closed behind her though she thought she heard a voice shout, that someone had found them before they were once again plunged into darkness.

A light switched on in front of them and the witch froze. Theyd been found.

[Cimmerian]

Ooc – Place the events here before Aman’s last post. Before they were found.


“Elanor!” asked Bulvard, curiously peering at the woman, “How did you get freed?”

“We managed to…” Elanor began, but the tall, white haired warrior cut her off. “Have you seen Calixto?”

“Calixto?” cried Elanor as Elwyn echoed her.

“Yes, Calixto,” uttered Tumnaooriel nervously, “He’s the one who led us here to this place…”

“And then he disappeared.” Added Gwyn, grimacing in pain.

“Where are Harolas and Aiwyn?” asked Elwyn.

“We don’t know.” Replied Bulvard, his sword already in hand. “Ransom! You and Elwyn take Tumnaooriel and go one way, and Elanor, Gwyn and I will take the other.”

“Right,” agreed Ransom, “We can regroup outside.”

“But what about Calixto?” asked Gwyn.

“What indeed?” mumbled Bulvard as he stepped ahead of Elanor and gingerly peered outward.

It was time to get to the bottom of all this.

But before the group could split up…

[Amanaduial the archer]

OCC: Thanks Cimm, good to have you back!
Elanor froze as the light came on. She heard footsteps, large heavy ones thundering around behind her, obviously through the door. A voice yelled in orcish. The witch saw Bulvard and Ransom put their hands on the swords and it yelled again. Another voice, a guttural human one spoke.

"Keep your hands off your swords. Keep your hands by your sides."

Ransom looked rebellious but stopped. Again a voice yelled in orcish and they heard the footsteps coming closer. They had rough strips off cloth and started to wrap them around the eyes of the men and elves. Elanor saw Elwyn start to struggle as she was beside her and flinched as a wild man struck her across the face. Her turn came but still she did not move as the ragged looking man started to tie it around her head.

"Where are you taking us?" She said quietly to him. She could not see his reaction but he paused. "To the valley of death methinks." He leered. He paused again. "As good as anyway. Youre going to see the Master of the Sword."

Aravelenon. She shivered but then the voice yelled again and they were dragged along, blindly.

She didnt know how long they were dragged along but eventually she was thrown on her knees on the floor. The blindfolds were not removed. By the sounds of panting and struggling beside her, she guessed that at least the two men of their group had had their hands bound. Eventually they stopped and there was silence. The silence of waiting.

Clack...clack...clack... The sound of slow controlled footsteps sounded behind them. Elanor forced herself not to turn around; she refused to make a spectacle of herself in case she fell. Besides, her limbs seemed to be frozen.

The footsteps came to a halt behing Elanor and she heard him-Aravelenon-laugh and started to clap slowly.

"Well done my friends, well done. My my, you have done well, havent you?" His voice was patronising and Elanor gritted her teeth, wanting so badly to slap him.

...The floor beneath her was richly carpetted...proabably the thick white carpet of the room she and Elwyn had been in before...

"I didnt expect you to do so well." She heard a thud from nearby as Aravelenon kicked one of the group.

...but a different carpet under her other knee, thinner, a different texture...the red one he had arrogantly laid down the middle of the room. That meant they must be spread fairly evenly across the middle...

"Position one of your soldiers beside each of them and take off the blindfolds; bind their hands. No, no, not her, I told you about her. Oh, and you can leave her as well, she was quite spirited." His voice was irritable. Who was he talking about as the exceptions? Quite spirited...so Elwyn was one.

...he was standing beside her, the wall was, say, 5 metres away from her on either side...right. She knew where she was.

Around her she knew the others were being untied. Yet she was not.Aravelenon stopped his pacing beside her, kneeling down. She could feel his breath on the side of her face he was so close, but did not look.

"And so we meet again witch. And Ive been doing my research on this sword of yours- Ive found exactly what it is that can release its power- the blood of one of strong magic." She heard a knife flicked open beside her face. "And now we must ask ourselves...is your magic strong enough?"

[ November 24, 2002: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[Cimmerian]

Aravelenon smiled satisfactorily as the young woman before him quivered in fear. He could sense her fear. Her fear made him strong. He fed on the fear of his adversaries. Fear made him stronger. Especially the fear of beautiful, young witches.
Removing her blindfold with a wave of his bony hand, the elven wizard laughed, a low raspy laugh that gradually shifted its pitch into a high, shrill whistle.

Elanor blinked and tried focusing her eyes, the room she was in was bright, but everything around her appeared veiled and clouded. As her vision slowly cleared, she found herself in a small room. Bright fires illuminated the high ceilinged dome, that glistened with sickly white marble. Brightly lit, oil lamps, hung from the ceiling on lengthy silvered chains as flowing curtains of darkly embroidered silk, unashamedly draped the high walls. The highly polished marble floor reflected every object in the room, giving the already enchanting atmosphere a overly ethereal and evil feel.

Aravelenon reached out to her and touched her. "Yeild to me, witch," he rasped, "And all this will be yours to share."

Elanor swallowed hard. She couldn't sense the others anywhere. Where could they be. What was that sound, was it her frightened heart beating? Her wide eyes fell upon the tall, elegantly attired elven wizard and she could almost sense his evil aura, and she knew that he could feel her weakening.

"Oh Bulvard! Oh Elwyn! Where can you all be?" mocked Aravelenon, almost as if he could read her mind. In his hands he held a beautifully crafted longsword. It appeared to be bathed in a dull, crimson glow. A glow that seemed to get more and more intense.

"Yeild, Witch!"

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn cringed as her blindfold was removed. She knew well where she was, and she hated this place, this was where Aravelenon took her powers, the only thing she ever loved, except her sister. She looked over to her sister, and Mithwyn saw that Elwyn, though she may be frightened, never let it show. Mithwyn respected her sister, though she could never tell her.
Mithwyn looked over to Elenor, and saw Aravelenon take her blood, and the powerless witch gasped, she knew what was coming...

[ November 25, 2002: Message edited by: Shadow_Staar ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Elanor blinked in the searingly bright light. She had been moved to a smaller room it seemed; how could she not have felt herself being moved then?

She felt out with her mind for the others, but there was a barrier; something stopped her mind. A sound, constantly beating in the background, was getting faster and faster; she was constantly aware of her own heartbeat.

She looked around; something was dulling her senses as effectively as strong wine, and her brain was functioning pathetically slowly.

Aravelenon reached out to her and touched her. Elanor forced herself not to vomit at his touch."Yeild to me, witch," he rasped, "And all this will be yours to share."

Yes...yield to him and she could have everything...live with this elegant sorcerer...get revenge on those who shunned her....NO! She forced her wandering mind back under her control. Where in the name of the Valar were-

"Oh Bulvard! Oh Elwyn! Where can you all be?" He had read her mind she was sure of it. And now as she stayed still she could just feel him, in the corner of her mind. If she could fix her power on him...

"Yield witch!" He weighed the sword in his hand, preparing to swing...and Elanor looked up. She caught his black gaze and shut down her mind hard on his. The wizard gasped and stepped backwards and the walls of the room began to flicker. It was an illusion!

She concentrated her mind on the illusion, forcing away the fake walls, but still the barrier held...

"Ah!" She yelped, clutching her arm. Aravelnon smiled wickedly as he brought the sword back towards him and she saw on its glowing reddish silver surface a darker red substance. Her own blood.

Slowly, he lifted it up to his face, and licked the blade, licked up her own blood and smiled, closing his eyes as if in ectasy. Elanor gritted her teeth. She could still hear her heartbeat and the wond on her arm burned like ice, but the pain was clearing her head. This was her chance. Raising her hands, she screamed a spellword and magefire leapt from her hands, burning his bony ones. With a yelp he dropped the sword and it started spinning towards her, ending beside her foot. He dived towards it but she kicked it out of the way.

"You cannot stop it witch!" He snarled at her, his scalded hands clenched. "Its power is out, and only one can bind that power!"

"Only one..." She whispered. She looked down at the glittering blade at her feet, seeing its hilt was made of pure gold. But she knew, with a terrible sinking crystal clear thought exactly what she had to do.

"Only one." She murmered more resolutely. Slowly, she started to bend down, her hand reaching for the elegant hilt of the throbbing weapon...

[Cimmerian]

Bulvard stood transfixed, his eyes blinking to adjust to the bright light in the room they were pushed into, their blindfolds were roughly removed. Beside him Elwyn muttered curses, and Tumnaooriel whimpered holding on to Ransom. Gwyn stood as grim and sombre as the room itself. A woman also stood along with them. One Bulvard had not seen before. She was young, and perhaps beautiful. She wore a tired and pained expression, and certainly was a good deal younger than she presently appeared.

“What is this place?” Bulvard growled, and was silenced by a resounding whack to the head. A large creature shoved at the tall warrior thereafter, “Silence! The lord speaks…” it managed to enunciate gutturally.

The six of them were standing in a dark, damp room reeking with foul odours. Swarthy forms of leathery skinned creatures, mucus hanging off their ill-equiped armour, their rusty weapons in hand, stood all around them, their backs pressed against the circular walls. The floor was strewn with rotting pelts of animals, elves and men alike. And in the middle of it all a tall, thin man stood with a mocking look on his hawk like features.

Bulvard stiffened as he noticed the young witch, Elenor, in a trance, reach out for the being's outstretched arms. Everything about them seemed bathed in red. The tall warrior grimaced as he strained against invisible bonds that burned against his flesh. Psychic restraints. Bulvard hated magic.

Looking around he noticed the others, notably Ransom, Elwyn and Gwyn stuggling in similar fashion. Tumnaooriel and the other woman did not resist much, but were equally appalled, if not more so at the sights they were forced to witness. Elanor, apparently oblivious of their presence, continued to dance to the sorcerer’s mocking chant.

Where were Harolas and Culloth? The tall white haired warrior wondered.

---------------------------------------

[ November 26, 2002: Message edited by: Cimmerian ]

[Cimmerian]

Harolas and Culloth trudged through the thick, dark foliage that populated the rocky foothills of the larger hills looming over the forest from where they had come. Following the faint tracks made by the caravan that supposedly held captive the missing members of their party.

Culloth insisted that none of this be told to her brother, because she felt he was in no condition to go on a rescue mission. Though she regretted leaving him with that woman, Tumnaooriel. She looked too alarmingly like Fiona, that every time Culloth saw her, all the sadness in her life came rushing out of the dark recesses of her mind and flooded her senses and judgment.

The structure they found was well hidden, amidst the craggy surface of the hillside and Harolas was sure that this was where they would find their friends. Initially the elf had objected to their embarking on this rescue attempt without Bulvard, but then he realized that Culloth and he were the only two people in this party who didn’t sport any injuries or ailments.

Bulvard was constantly troubled, Tumnaooriel was in no shape to be a warrior and though Gwyn was, she was severely injured. There was no sign of Aiwyn.

Besides an elf was in danger, and it was his duty to aid her. Especially since she was someone whom he regarded as special.

Unknowning of Calixto’s true nature and the present status of thier companions, the two able warriors, stealthily made their way toward the foreboding estate of the evil sorcerer and elf lord, Aravelenon.

------------------------------------

[ November 26, 2002: Message edited by: Cimmerian ]

[Cimmerian]

Aravelenon spread out his hands and began to chant in a long dead tongue, his voice invoking, commanding. The Crimson Sword, now mysteriously suspended itself in mid air, still glowing a sickly red aura. Aravelenon seemed to feed off the glow; its power appeared to course through his veins, building like a pleasure of taking a woman. Every instant prolonging made the pleasure even greater. Elanor’s body began to jerk and sway, she convulsed repeated. All her powers, energies and her very life seemed to drain away. The sorcerer reached out and held his open palm before Elanor’s flushed face. She was strong, but her fear made her unsure and indecisive. It would be a challenge for this evil sorcerer to break her. Yes, break her indeed. She would do his bidding or she would die by the blade of the Crimson Sword.

Already her rich, sweet blood, which he had lustfully savoured, had whetted the thirsty blade a while. But soon, it would need more. Aravelenon waved his thin arms up and down, and Elenor swayed like a bough in a summer breeze, in rhythmic step to the sorcerer’s hypnotic chant.

Aravelenon’s chant became more insistent even as the sword began to glow brighter and brighter. His minions and prisoners alike, whom he wished to have witness his power, moved back as one as the arcane syllables pierced their senses. They understood not a single word, but they all knew what they meant in the depths of their souls. Certain death.

Aravelenon’s voice grew no louder, yet his words seemed to shake the walls. Tapestries stirred as if at an unheard, unfelt wind. The glow from the Crimson Sword, suspended now directly over Elanor’s head, grew brighter, blindingly brighter.

Elanor’s near limp, trance-induced body shuddered violently like a leaf in a hurricane.

The end, it seemed, was near.

[Amanaduial the archer]

OCC: Dont just disregard my posts or anything cimmerian!

Elanor fell against one of the walls, straining to hold on to conciousness. But it would be so easy to slip away into the beauitful, last sleep that Aravenon promised...

No! The sword, the crimson sword bathed in her blood; it sickened her, but she had to get it.

"Hel'cria!" Aravelnon spoke louder then continued his chant. Elanors body convulsed and her insides felt like they were coming apart. She tried to tell herself it was an illusion, but that was hard when she felt the trickle of blood running down her chin.

"El'Narah!" She lashed out in return. Her fear was going to him, strengthening and weakening her. She was not afraid...not afraid.... As she had done before, she felt his power as a solid force, dragging it back to her, gathering it like a net in her hands. All at once she threw it out and the sorcerers own powers hit him full on. He flew backwards, hitting the wall opposite, but his hand still held the Sword. She needed help...

"Mithwyn!" Mithwyn? Why had she yelled Mithwyns name? A dark witch- no, a powerless dark witch! Well, if her brain had a idea, he may as well just go along with it... "Come here...come daughter of the Eldest, strengthener of the dark powers now strengthen me!"

She felt a power becoming unleashed in her. Darkness she had alwayds known was there. Using this against the weakened wizards bonds over her friends she released Mithwyn, beckoning her to come. An orc leapt after her, but when a circle of magefire surrounded the elf he jumped back, beaing out the flames on his armour. Exhilerated, Elanor shot magefire in long fingers out to the sides of the room. It flickered along the walls; at her signal, the entire room could be convulsed in flame.

She held out her hand to Mithwyn but the elf looked uncertainly at it.

"Do you want revenge on he who took your powers? With the power that destroyed them, will you lay to rest the boys, dead by your hand?" She cried above the flames. Her strength was coming back. She saw the pain flicker across Mithwyns face, and the anger. And the fear...? The elf took the other witches hand.

"Elves of noble and true blood, healers through the magic of light, come to me!" She meant to release Elwyn, but strangely, Tumnaooriel was released as well. Tumna has magic? She pushed this thought aside and sent the flames further across the walls. Elwyn rested her hand on her sisters and on Elanors.

"I am sorry to do this..." Elanor murmered before she sent a wave of force through herself. The other two reeled back, yelling our in pain, but to Elanors admiration they held on. The force throbbed around the room as Elanor gathered it to her. Aravelnon was getting up now, his eyes flashing pure darkness. He still held the sword. Out of the power in the air she drew s pair of sais, made of a combination of the powers in the room, forged of emotions.

"Come sorcerer." She yelled. In one movement, both rushed across the room, clashing weapons in the centre with clash of sparks...

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn fell to the ground next to Elwyn, and watched as Elanor charged the sorcerer. Their weapons clashed, and Elanor had the look of pure determination, and he had the look of pure evil. Silently Mithwyn cheered on Elanor, this man had taken her powers, and she was useless.
Pain crossed her face again, as she remembered the day he took them. He had promised her so much, and now look where she was. She was brought out of her daydream, when Elwyn touched her arm. Mithwyn looked at her sister, and in Mithwyn's eyes, she apologized to her dear sister, or at least she tried to.

[Cimmerian]

As Culloth and Harolas made their way up to the base of the foreboding castle like structure, they were ambushed by some of the lowlife that were set to stand guard.

Making short work of the nuisances the two warriors made their way up the western wall. Over them, from an open window strange sounds could be heard emanating. Something told Harolas and Culloth that that was where they would find what the sought or surely they would find their deaths.

[Cimmerian]

Mithwyn and Tumnaooriel were free of the mystic bonds that Bulvard, Elwyn and Ransom struggled against. The bonds seemed to weaken their hold and then reinstate itself on the captors, as the surges of power ebbed and flowed in tidal waves between the evil sorcerer and tortured witch.

Bulvard roared at Tumnaooriel to get away as the orcish creatures closed in on her even as their master battled on. Aravelenon’s power almost always seemed to overwhelm Elanor. It seemed like it was always Aravelenon who struck first, and Elanor defended. Aravelenon advanced and Elanor retreated.

Bulvard fought as hard as he could against the bonds, something in him urged him on to protect the young witch. When she had freed Bulvard from his mental torment and torture, a strange kind of mystic bond had developed between warrior and witch, as if they were kindred spirits. It was sheer torture for the white haired warrior to seem Elanor suffer so.

Aravelenon’s dark obsidian eyes blazed with pure hatred hell-bent on the witch’s destruction. He knew that the Crimson Sword amplified his evil powers and the witch had no hope against him. He increased the intensity of his attack all the while chanting in an obscene, alien tongue. Elanor couldn’t seem to understand the words he uttered, but she felt their intent. She seemed to weaken with every one of his blows. Then she stumbled and fell, the weapons she held went clattering across the hard, filthy floor.

Aravelenon loomed over her, Crimson Sword raised ready to strike. His lewd chanting continued and suddenly Elanor could understand what he was saying…

“If you woke up from your sleep blood on your hands
Would you wash the pain away no one understands
There must be someone out there who can help you breathe again
And would it ever be enough…

[Nevtalathiel]

Tumnaooriel was frozen to the spot with terror. Her legs shook beneath her, but she knew that if she could summon the mental and physical energy to move them, the strict bonds would no longer be there.

She was not free though. She knew she would never be free. Unbidden came again the image of the child on the bed, pushing itself to the front of her mind. Her eyes were clouded with tears for the evil she had not been able to undo. He had called out towards the end, for help, for peace, for rest and she had been unable to give him either. He had trusted her. Had lain quietly in her arms as she tried to ease the excrutiating pain she could not banish, tears rolling down his cheeks and there had been nothjing she could do. He had forgiven her. He was young and trusting. He had known her only to be good and kind, a healer of the sick, the one who had kissed him better when he had fallen, but she had not been able to save her own son even with the little magical skill she possessed.

She could not fight. she had never been a fighter. She had been a healer and now she was no longer that.

[Elenna]

Tears of helpless rage coursed down Elwyn's face as she watched the battle between the evil sorcerer and her friend. She struggled against the bonds, but to no avail. From a little distance away, she caught Bulvard's eye. He tried to smile, but it didn't come off right.

Suddenly, Elwyn began to feel dizzy. She shut her eyes tightly and clenched her fists, willing the vertigo to go away. All around her was surrounded with bright light, and she thought she heard some kind of music. Then, a voice entered her ear. It sounded like laughter and the ringing of swords. You are free now. Fight! Fight! It is your destiny.

And as quickly as it had come, the dizziness was gone. Elwyn unclenched her fists, and found that her hands were free. She glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. Bulvard was still looking at her, and she moved her hands to show him that her bounds had been untied. He grinned suddenly. The odds were beginning to look better.

[ December 02, 2002: Message edited by: Elenna ]

[Cimmerian]

Harolas was the first to reach the awning of the high window, peering in he gasped. With a deft leap, he entered the room flying, his elven longsword in hand. Culloth was still halfway down when the elf threw himself into the horde of orc-like creatures and slimy warg that crowded around the arched doorway of a room that was bathed in bright arcane light.

The elf archer's skill with the blade had often been over-shadowed by his prowess with the bow, but he showed both friend and foe that he could match even the most skilled of swordsmen. Harolas' elven blade weaved like silvered lighting as he cut and hacked a path through the slimy hordes of orcs and warg. His keen senses told him that Elwyn and the others, even Elanor were in the room these filth guarded and he meant to get in there even if he had to plough his way through all the forces of Mordor.

Culloth had just managed to reach the sill of the window when a screaming mass of orc flesh flew out, nearly taking her down wth it. She stared in awe at the elf prince of Mirkwood in savage glory and she smiled, a vicious cold smile that did not extend to her eyes. Vaulting into the room, Culloth landed on top of writhing bodies of orcs, with sword and dagger in each hand.

With a gleam of savage fury in her wild eyes, the Gondorian shieldmaiden launched herself into the blood bath that played all around.

Meanwhile Bulvard was yet to break free of his arcane manacles when he heard the commotion coming from outside the room where they were held captive. His tired eyes saw Elwyn break free of her bonds, he smiled weakly, and renewed his fight against his. The two women who had fallen free earlier were now at the mercy of the orcs and wargs that hovered around. Bulvard fought desperately trying to get free, his broadsword lay just a few hand lengths away. If only he could break free...

[Amanaduial the archer]

“If you woke up from your sleep blood on your hands
Would you wash the pain away no one understands
There must be someone out there who can help you breathe again
And would it ever be enough…"

The chant spun around Elanors head and she wondered about the words briefly. Very briefly. She spun quickly to the side as the sword sliced through the stones of the floor where she had been a moment ago, catching her cloak. The flames ignited it, struggling to her feet she tore it off, throwing it at Aravelnon. He cried out as the flames burnt his face and smiling slightly, Elanor drew back her hand and ounched him right across the face. Caught of guard he fell to the ground, the Sword falling from his hands. Swiftly Elanor picked it up, the gold handle fitting into her hand as if it was made for her. With a slightly shaky hand, she placed the sword at the sorcerers hand.

Around them a battle was raging. Vaguely something in the back of her mind told her Harolas and Culloth were also in the fray. The two magic users barely noticed, glaring at each other. Elanors hand was now not shaking but as steady as a rock. Slowly she drew it back then paused.

"Who do you think could help me breathe again?" She whispered quietly. In a quick movement she plunged the flaming sword down.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aravelnon screamed like a wild animal as the flaming sword sunk into his chest. Elanor barely registered surprise as the blade carried on going through the floor until its hilt rested on the black sorcerers chest and she was kneeling beside him. His black eyes flashed silver then back to their unnerving darkness as his scream faded, leaving him writhing on the floor. Seeming to get a hold of himself, speaking almost inaudibly through gritted teeth, he grabbed the front of Elanors collar as he bent her ear to his lips.

"At least...at least I got you to kneel to me!"

Disgusted, Elanor stood sharply, wrenching the sword from Aravelnons chest. His entire body convulsed once then lay still. His eyes faded from black, becoming the green of emeralds. His dark hair paled and thickened, turning ash blonde. His wiry body thickened slightly, muscles forming, becoming healthier looking, and his pale, translucent skin darkened to the tan of one who lives in the sun.

Elanor gasped; in front of her lay Calixto, the very one who had started the quest. She hung her head wearily; a ragged human witch with an ancient sword hanging from her burnt hands.

Lifting her head slowly she looked around once, taking in everything. Elwyn still stood with her sister, watching her as if frozen, but something had changed about Mithwyn; like her sister, she was glowing slightly with inner power. The last of the orcs fell to Harolas' blade as he stood in front of Culloths body, slain by a wild mans blade. Tumnaooriel also lay on the floor, a thin trickle of blood issuing from her forehead.

A man was kneeling at her side, a white haired warrior. His eyes were knowing, ancient with the knowledge and pain they bore, and those eyes lifted slowly from the healers body as he stood and turned. His sword fell from his hands as his eyes caught that of Elanor Istavaira. She held his gaze for a moment and, lifting her hands, she held up the Crimson Sword, the sword that determined the fate so long ago of Horus, a warrior against the beasts of flame itself, and now determined the fate of a group of warriors and witches. The Sword that now rested in her hand, its dull red sheen still telling its story. Raising it to her lips, her eyes never leaving Bulvards she kissed it, adding her own tale to that of the Sword. With that her eyes closed and she fell to her knees and as the warrior ran over, Elanor Istavaira collapsed, the Crimson Sword still held in her hand.

[Shadow_Staar]

Mithwyn stood next to Elwyn, and she suddenly started to glow. Mithwyn's eyes seemed by hollow. She didn't know she was doing it!
"Mithwyn?" Elwyn asked.
But Mithwyn didn't answer, she just continued to glow.
Elwyn looked shocked, since when could her sister glow like she did?
Mithwyn held out her hand to Elwyn, and she grasped it. Magic flooded threw their vains, and their bodies glowed together, like they should have long ago. The sisters were reunited, in body, in magic, and in spirit.

[Amanaduial the archer]

A small group were mounted outside the gates of the Rafflensher castle, on a foggy and cold day of autumn; two men and three elves. A year and a day ago most had stood in that same place. But it was always felt that there had been more then… The group waited in silence after they dismounted, intuitively knowing who for. And once again, one of them was late.

After a moment, one of the elf maidens laughed, a silvery, carefree sound, causing the others to look at her in surprise. She smiled back at them. "Well, some things never change. Harolas is still late!" Elwyn chuckled. Her careworn face was much smoothed after a year of simply travelling, but some scars of her memory could still be seen; the memory of the death of a close friend one year ago. And, as it had been when she was thrown in front of Calixto, her spirit was still indomitable.

One of the other elves, standing next to Elwyn, as dark as her sister was fair, smiled also. Elwyn had told her sister much of the original group as they travelled together of the past year, making up for their parting after their magical reunion after the death of The Sorcerer. Mithwyn’s powers were stronger than her sisters now but she did not misuse them any more. Mithwyn, the traitor who in the end had helped with her powers to save them all. “He was with us when we left Mirkwood.” Elwyn continued

“Aye, but he is a one for pretty girls isn’t he? Probably got lost and started chasing them, eh sister?” Mithwyn teased. She knew how strongly Harolas was devoted to her sister.

“Mithwyn, I-“ the other elf started before being interrupted.

“- Hope you know, Mithwyn that I would never do such a thing!” Harolas dismounted onto the ground and looked around slightly bashfully. “Pardon my timing. Ah, I am not the last I see- not everyone is here yet.”

“Aiwyn I fear will not be coming, and neither will Gwyn. The Green Lady has returned to her home and I hear both of them are making quite a name for themselves as warriors of Rohan.” The other elf, who had not yet spoken broke in eagerly here. She did not know the others as well; after the final battle, Nuinlome of Lorien had gone back to the sanctuary of the Golden Wood. She pulled her cloak around herself, and smiled sadly as she remembered the other who could not be here, who never could, the witch who in the midst of a battle had still found her. Her saviour. The two elves and one of the men also remembered finding her. Said man smiled at her;

Ransom DeViolana had travelled far to be here after he had received the message from Bulvard. The inquisitor was still part of the inquisition, on of the masters of it now. He would always remember the way Aravelnon had killed Elanor and caused the death of Bulvards sister, the warrior woman Culloth, the way he misused his powers. He was no stranger to magic, but such dark magic was exactly what he fought against and always would. He had not seen much of the others in the past year either, for he too had travelled before throwing himself into the Inquisition.

“And she will not come will she?” The white haired warrior now spoke, his voice sad. “Tumnaooriel.” He added, as if the others could not have guessed. He sighed heavily. “I did not think she would.”

He had thought much of the healer, the one who so reminded him of his own Fiona. But she was not the only one who had preyed on his mind…the witch, her voice, the way she spoke to him, the way she brought him from his sickness.. everything about her preyed on his mind every day of the long year he had spent wandering. And he could never see her again. Except in his dreams.

“Really? I think you may be wrong there Bulvard, unless there is yet another who had those same stunning features that more than one woman already seem to share.”

At Elwyns voice Bulvard looked up sharply and stopped breathing. Coming out of the mist there was a tall figure, her blonde hair flowing down her back. Her sad eyes took them all in silently until she caught Bulvard’s and stopped dead. The space between them was more than a few metres; between them was the memory of two dead women. Fiona and Elanor. Elanor Istavaira.

The Dark Sorcerer had caused her death but with it had paid with it with his own.

Elanor fell, the sword still held in her hand. Bulvard caught her as she fell to the ground, holding her in his arms.

“No Elanor, you cant do this. Please don’t do this.” The warrior sobbed over her, shaking her body. The womans eyes flicked open for a moment, but the mist was gathering in them as she looked beyond him, beyond this room, this castle, this world.

“My…my purpose here is done Bulvard. I cant stay, you cant hold me here.” Her voice was barely a whisper and Bulvard bent his head down to her to hear her. Her voice was still fading as she continued, slowly raising her hand, the hand holding the Sword. “Take it. But…destroy it. No one must have this. You must destroy it. Live well Bulvard. And let her.”

With that and with a small sigh, Elanor Istavaira’s eyes close, her body relaxing as her spirit left it. As her hand fell, Bulvard caught her hand, taking from it gently the Crimson Sword. The sword that was no longer simply a weapon; it ruled the fates of all these people here gathered. It destroyed lives, and here had destroyed its last…but could it have strengthened one?

Bulvards eyes still held Tumna’s as he remembered how she had walked over to him then, the blood still running from his head. He bowed his head to her and she walked over to him and they embraced tightly.

From high above there seemed to be a sigh, of passion and sadness, yet of a spirit released. Elanors purpose was done and new purposes were made. The group was fully gathered and was made whole as the healer and the warrior embraced. The quest was over.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Well thats it then. With my 1000th post, I finish this role play. Thankyou everyone, it was a pleasure playing with you. I hope this reaches the elvenhome, so The Sword can be remembered.