On Patrol (Continued from Let's Go to the Prancing Pony)

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel tried to scramble back onto the tree limb, but it cracked again as she moved, so she quickly stayed still.

"Ummm...yeah...can you move please?" Menelduliniel shouted down to the creature below her, "I don't really feel like burning to death..."

She looked, innocently, at the creature, praying that it will listen to her.

[The Fifth]

The Wraith does not even notice the stone hurled at it, and it looks up at the branch, pointing the cruel blade up so that if she ever fall, she would be impaled. The flames are now starting to go down, and through parts of burnt fabric you see only the background. The horse is now busy helping itself to some blades of grass, lifting its head up once in a while to observe.

[VanimaEdhel]

OOC: BAH! You weren't lying when you said that's what you wrote in the chat...oh well...Gandalf: can the Eagles save me or am I not special enough?

BOC: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
(That's all I have to say to that)

[The Fifth]

(OOC: What is BOC?)

[VanimaEdhel]

OOC: BOC = Back on Chat, silly! And keep your flaming sword to yourself!

[The Fifth]

(Ooh.. okay. And no, I shall share my happy, happy flaming sword with everyone! Whee! Whoop! Happy Apocalpyse, everyone! Okay.. I will stop spamming this forum now..)

[VanimaEdhel]

OOC: But spamming is fuuuun!

[Birdland]

Birdie had had quite enough. Holding still, tree-like, usually worked. But when a less-than valiant elfling climbed into your branches, and a flaming specter was standing directly under you, other tactics were in order. Birdie chose to panic.

"GET OFF MEEEEEEE!" she shrieked, waving her branch-arms around frantically. The elf was holding on like a kitten to a rope, legs waving wildly as she gave voice to a most un-elf-like scream. This caused Birdie to pinwheel her branches even faster, and to start jumping up and down, regardless of who might be in the way of her 50' Ent form.

The legs of the elf swung with incredible force smack into the stunned, smoking wraith, sending his sword flying over his head and into the woods. Then the elf clipped him in the back of the head on the backswing, before finally letting go, flying twenty feet, and landing in a hazelnut bush.

Birdie had had enough, she morphed into her human form and started to desperately scramble away from the chaos, tripping on packs and roots has she went.

[ June 21, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Feadolena Nolfare]

ooc: nice save birdie!! [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img]
bic: Moridel had remained relatively calm throughout the scene, but a tree turning into a human... now that was just too much! She rushed over to where the newly anthropomorphized ent was frantically running about.
"Calm down! The danger of the wraith is not past yet! Please, do be quiet and tell me what has happened to you..." While speaking, Moridel racked her brain for what this creature could possibly be. It is an Ent... AND a human? The only race I have heard of that could take such forms is the Beornings... yet I have never known them to take Ent form. Ah well, there are other matters at hand...

Moridel waited for the Beorning's terror to pass. Suddenly, she recalled the fallen Menelduiliniel. She crept over to the bush Meneli had crashed into, carefully skirting the still-smouldering wraith. Menelduiliniel was somehow still conscious, and seemed not to be badly harmed. Bethberry had found her already, and was tending to her with her ever-present bag of herbs.
But what of the wraith? It cannot stand there burning forever... I wonder, will it retreat, or is its mission so desperate that it would attempt an assault? For it to have left its barrow at all suggests the latter...

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Hedgemaiden ... I don't suppose you've brought a sword of Westernesse? I've a sword just bought the other day at a dusty pawn shop in Bree. Sturdy enough blade, but its runes so worn as to pose a mystery.

* Seeing that the shaken Menelduliniel was for the moment safe in the capable hands of Bethberry, the wrinkles in Gandalf's face relaxed a little. Not letting his guard down however nor forgetting the wraith for a moment, he carried the firewood-torch back to relight the campfire. In the reestablished flickering orange glow, he was now able to see where he'd put that second-hand sword. A wonder no one had tripped over it. Picking it up, Gandalf now carried the weapon in one hand and his staff in the other. *

* Seeing the black horse from Mordor grazing peacefully and looking on, Gandalf lowered his sword and approached the animal with a non-threatening stride, speaking low and gentle words. *

* Meanwhile, at the back of his mind, Gandalf could swear that he'd heard the voice of an Entwife in between wraith shrieks a few moments ago. His old friend Treebeard would certainly be glad to hear the news that the forlorn search of the Ents for their missing Entwives might soon end in a joyous reunion. *

[ June 21, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

The wraith swerves around, the sword knocked out of his black hands, with smoke rising up from his form. He was bent over from the blow to the head, and quickly recovered, pulling out through the folds of his robes another blade, shorter than the other. Meanwhile, the horse swung its large head up, flicking its ears at the words, and whinnies, ferreting at the ground with its front hooves.

[Naaramare]

Her thrown rock had taken all the courage she'd possessed at the time, and after her motion she'd slunk back into the shadows, cursing herself and her cowardice. Seeing the Wraith with a second sword in it's hand, she shouted in warning, "'WARE! He's still armed!"

[Birdland]

"'WARE! He's still armed!"

Birdie heard the shout, and quickened her efforts. She was scrambling among the leaf-litter on the other side of the fire, searching for the pack she had hidden there. It contained everything she owned in the world. "Where is it? Where is it" she muttered to herself, looking fearfully over her shoulder at the the running, cursing, battling campers.

Her hand landed on a buried strap, and she pulled it from it's hiding place with a "whoosh" of relief. Now for it! Birdie scrambled to her feet and took off running.

And ran smack into a mountain of grey flesh, smelling of hay and musk. The creature let out an offended squeal at the impact. Birdie, running full tilt, had rammed her head hard into the shoulder bone of the unwielding, massive creature.

She pitched over backward, landing flat on her back, and knew no more.

[VanimaEdhel]

OOC: NICE SAVE BIRDIE! DIOLA LLE! No thanks to you, CREATURE! (talking to 5th, btw...lol)

BOC: Menelduliniel struggles.

"Let go! Let go! I'm fine! I don't need medical attention..."

She stands up and joins the others, facing 5th.

"I'll teach you to block me!" Meneli said...

[The Fifth]

The wraith stands still, almost leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree. Bracing himself, he points the sword forwards.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Fool of an Elf ... * Gandalf muttered sullenly under his breath. *

* Taking careful aim with his staff, Gandalf shot a bolt of blue lightning at a large branch hanging overtop the wraith. This lightning severed the branch as neatly as an artfully cut limb from a surgeon's knife in the best House of Healing. Soon, the wraith was struggling tangled inside a mesh of branches, twigs, and leaves as cumbersome and catching as a fishing net. On top of which, a jolt of electricity ran through the tree roots and struck the foul servant of Sauron from below. *

(OOC: Am supposed to be heading out the door for several hours tonight, see everyone later!)

[ June 22, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

The wraith screeched and writhed at the mess, and does so even louder at the shock, which made the horse rear up and neigh, turning its back. (OOC: Okay, see you, Gandy.. wait, did I just say that? o.O)

[Bêthberry]

Uuh, exclaimed Bethberry as she fell over backwards, knocked aside when Menelduliniel hastily stood up. Shaking her head, to herself she muttered, I thought elves would take a fair measure of their assailants and of their position.

Picking herself up, she went over to Birdie who was lying all too still after her encounter with the creature.

Naaramare, come, help me here. You have strengths which can be of great service here.

[ June 22, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Naaramare]

Startled, Naaramare moved quickly to Bethberry's side. "Skills? I?" she asked, caught between frantic and puzzled worry. "I will do all that I can, though I'm not sure I understand you . . . "

[The Fifth]

The wraith now uses its main weapon; fear, as a way to defend itself. Slowly, the aura of despair grows stronger, fear pouring out of this being as it tries to untangle itself from the branches.

[Bêthberry]

Naaramare and Bethberry carried Birdie off to the side of the campsite, near the waterskins and supplies. There Bethberry was able to prepare a refreshing poltice of herbs and cool water which Naaramare deftly applied to Birdie's head. Doing something positive gave Naaramare courage.

Bethberry then stood up and faced towards the trapped creature. Softly, then faster and louder, she began to sing a song which echoed around the campsite and bounced off the trees. Leaves began to rustle and branches to sway in rhythm to the song. The melody went forth, bounding and rebounding as each member of the group caught up the song, multiplying its sound as each heart heard it, until interchanging melodies were created, sometimes soft and sweet, sometimes terrible and awe-inspiring, but all working to blend out the clamorous waves of fear from the creature, revealing a sure theme to all, of hope.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel takes out her bow and arrows, and fires. Some arrows hit and some missed...

"GAH! Must practice," Meneli muttered, firing at the Creature some more (your official name is Creature now, okay Fifth?).

[The Fifth]

The wraith lays still, and shrieks loudly in an attempt to counteract the singing. He says in a chilling, thin voice, "Thou think thou can slay thee with noise?"

[Naaramare]

Focusing on carefully on putting the poultices on the stranger's head seemed to help the fear, Naaramare discovered. It did not make it go <i>away</i>, but it did help.

She wasn't sure when it was that Bethberry stood up; she didn't notice, wrapped up as she was in making sure she didn't do more damage to the fallen stranger then was already done, by way of clumsy tending.

She did notice, however, when Bethberry's song reached her. It was like a frisson up her spine, making her gasp at it's familiarity. The part of her that sometimes provided those fleeting, disappearing memories seemed to spasm suddenly, and her fear--

It didn't not disappear, but it no longer crippled her in any way. She no longer needed to shunt all her energy into the stranger's tending to keep it from overwhelming her. It suddenly seemed to her as if she'd faced down enemies more frightening than the wraith, though she did not remember how.

"Thou think thou can slay thee with noise?" the wraith-thing mocked, and Naaramare found herself on her feet beside Bethberry facing the creature.

"Noise?" she repeated. "This is no noise, you foul . . .thing. It is a counter to the fear you try to create!"

What in the names of the Vala do I think I'm doing? Naaramare demanded of herself. She had no powers to take on this wraith, this thing . . .

Oh no? said a voice, coming from the same place as her occasional memories. Why not? What does it have, a sword? Others here have swords. Power? You walk with Mithrandir, foolish girl. The only real power this thing has is fear; cease to fear it, you cease to give it weapons.

"You have no more strength here!" she found herself shouting at the wraith. "Get you gone, ere worse befall you!"

(OOC: Hmm. Methinks this is my longest post yet)

[The Fifth]

The wraith's eyes flicker a bit, and stands up between a few branches, breaking through them with a craaaCK. He seems to be quite sure of himself; and this may be his doom. Standing still, he squeezes out as much fear as he can, and points his blade at them, daring them to go closer, daring them to attack this fallen King. The dread this wraith emits creeps towards them as they sing and challenge his power, which seems to be just waking up as he tries to drive them off with fear. (OOC: There you go. My character is being kind of stupid. Oh well... [Also, I really want to at least injure someone besides myself.])

[Elenna]

Luckily, the menacing wraith had not see Elenna creeping up from behind. She had her dagger all ready to strike, when Olorin the Oliphaunt, not understanding the danger, frolicked up to her, trumpeting playfully.

The wraith whirled around, it's sword at the ready. Elenna drew her own.

"Elbereth Gilthoniel!" she cried, and silver rang against black. The battle was joined!

[The Fifth]

The wraith and elf clashed their swords together, evil versus good. He was still gathering his dread, and he put his strength into each swing of the blade.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf raised his own sword to assist Elenna against the wraith. The weapon emitted a faint glow. The uplifting lilt of Bethberry's song sounded in the background against the menacing shroud of gloom cast by the wraith. But just then, Olorin the Oliphaunt came trundling by and bumped into the wizard's sword arm, jostling his elbow. Gandalf, momentarily off balance, barely kept himself from falling. Planting the staff in his left hand into the ground, he leaned his weight against it. Olorin the Oliphaunt nosed around the fallen tree branch, dining on its leaves. *

[The Fifth]

The wraith continued to clash with the elf, but occasionally swung his hooded head towards Gandalf, making sure that he does not try to do anything to him as he squeezes out more fear. The two swords made loud clanging noises, with occasionally a missing swing from both of them.

[Birdland]

Birdie woke to find herself laying by the campfire. Her head was throbbing painfully, but there was a cool cloth, smelling of herbs, laying across her forehead. It slid down her face as she struggled to sit up. She could hear the metal clash of swords ringing around her, each "clang" piercing her head as if it were the blade itself.

But worse then the pain in her head was the thick, heavy weight of fear which seemed to permeate the very ground she sat on, and the very air she breathed. It was intense, focused, controlled.

But another force seemed to be trying to conteract the fear, to drive it back into the shadows from where it came. It was something Birdie had not experienced in a good many days. The feeling of hope.

The conteracting spell allowed her to slowly bring her hand down to her boot, and pull out the skinning knife that she kept there. The blade was nicked and rust-stained in spots, and the split handle had been wrapped in rawhide. It was all she had. It would have to do. She hid it by her side, and waited for the tide of the battle to sweep over her, too dizzy and sick to try to run again.

[ June 25, 2002: Message edited by: Birdland ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf fought against the fear, but there was so much to think about. Impetuous Elves. A lumbering baby oliphaunt underfoot. The improbability of the party escaping and outrunning the wraith since some would be on horseback while others weren't and there was no large waterway to use as an alternative. His feelings of responsibility for having led everyone into danger by allowing them all to accompany him. Having camped so close to the Barrow Downs based on his decision. The troublesomely equivocal behavior of the horse from Mordor. Wanting to wear the Elven-ring Narya for comfort, but realizing that its power would likely only make matters worse. Wondering just how good his second-hand sword was, though at least it produced a comforting glow. The wraith itself, unstopped by fire and lightning ... *

* Gandalf took another swing at the black creature, forcing himself to concentrate on Bethberry's song. But being distracted, the sword fell short, grazing the fold of its cloak but doing no damage. *

[ June 25, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

The wraith feels the swing of the sword, and swings his head around to look at Gandalf with his unseen face, although his eyes glint dangerously, slightly red from the campfire that continues to burn.

[Elenna]

Elenna took a deep breath as the wraith turned its attention to Gandalf. The pause was enough for her to gather her wits, to remember stars in the sky, wind on the hilltop, Olorin's happy frolicking. That was enough for her to counteract the fear that swept the Downs.

Then again she attacked, leaping before the old Wizard, who stumbled as his enemy pressed forward.

[The Fifth]

The wraith swung around, along with the blade, narrowly parrying the attack, although he backs off a foot or so.

[The Fifth]

((*poke poke* Hey! Wake up! Someone post, please!!!))

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Thinking of a peaceful time spent in the Shire dancing the springle ring on a warm Midsummer's Eve under an orange moon, Gandalf composed his mind and struck out again at the fey wraith. This time, the Elven blade made a satisfying connection with its target, piercing through the wraith's cloak to strike the wraith itself, with a strong cutting slash. *

(OOC: Going by my dice roll, I scored a successful hit and did 6 points of damage, which is a decent amount.)

[The Fifth]

The wraith cries out in pain, sounding remotely human, and it falls to its knees, the back of the cloak split open, and darker spots splatter in some places near the wound.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Taking advantage of the wraith's injured state, Gandalf pressed forward with another successful lunge. This second lunge was nearly as powerful as the previous one, channeling a deep new gash into the creature. *

(OOC: This time, by the dice, my aim was even more true than before ... and was good for 5 points damage.)

[Naaramare]

Seeing her stranger-patient attempt to rise and then fall back again, Naaramare reluctantly turned from the battle she'd been watching, painfully aware that the brief memory that had brought her spiritual strength had not reminded her how to use a weapon that, come to think of it, she didn't have.

Kneeling beside the stranger, who was breathing quickly, she put the poultice back into place. "Don't try to stand," she admonished. "You have a head wound, if you have not noticed. If you move, you'll be ill. We must wait . . ." she laughed self-consciously, fear making the laugh a little shrill. "I'm not much more use, for all I'm unhurt."

Her eyes returned to Gandalf, Elenna and the spectre, and she clung to hope.

[The Fifth]

The wraith screeches once more, and hunches over until his hooded head touched the ground. "It seems I was.. wrong.. yes, kill thee now, it will all be useless, useless..." He says coldly. He continues to hold the blade, and as a last effort, attempts to stab Gandalf, but he is restrained by the wounds from the elven sword, so he sets the blade down, rather neatly, in front of him, but he continues to eminate all the fear he can, becoming almost unbearable.