Kidnapped!

[doug*platypus]

Into the Wild

As night fell, the band of kidnappers made camp at the edge of a small wood. Not far away now the land started to slope down towards the floodplains of the Great River. Skara the Woodsman had changed direction during the day, and shortly after midday they had found the tracks of their outward course. He was now leading his men back to the Great River to find their rafts. Skara was the greatest tracker of his village, and not for nothing had he been asked to lead this dangerous raid. Now he was returning with a great prize. A prize that the Elders would not get so cheaply! The men he had here were the most part of the best warriors of their village. We will sell her ourselves to another tribe, thought Skara, my men and I. She would not be the plaything of one of the lazy Elders, not unless he could raise the highest price.

After making sure the captive was bound, Skara set the fierce Blair to watch over her. He was, so Skara thought, too thick-headed to think of escaping alone with her. At any rate, Blair did not have the woodcraft to make it back east from here, and he was not the type to betray his fellows anyway. Some of the men however were already speaking up against this thing or that. Skara could hear them talking from where he sat on watch, his bow strung.

Some were saying they should have stayed longer in the Elvenwood, should have returned with gold and jewels, and more weapons. All of them had eyed Rû-Sahn's new dagger with a mix of awe and greed. There was also talk of not waiting to sell the Elf-maid. One of the Easterlings started to speak of needing 'entertainment' out here in the wild lands. Hoarse laughter erupted, but Skara was worried it would go beyond a joke and that their prize would be damaged.

Finally he could take no more. Checking to see that there were more watchers in place, he made his way over to where his men were, purposefully taking his bow with him.

"Enough talk! It's time to rest, or have you forgotten all of your complaints already?" it had been a long night and day of flight from the Elvenwood, with few stops. The men grumbled, some settling down for sleep. Skara turned to the one who had stirred them up with thoughts of the Elf-girl.

"Rogar, the girl is not for you, unless you be much richer than you look! She is going to make us wealthy. All of us."

"Hmmph!" the large man grunted. "She's just a girl. We should be coming back with riches already. What of the Elf-jewels and the trees made of gold?"

"Yes, and what of the Elf bows, and getting stuck like a pincushion?" Skara replied. "Did you forget we were attacked? Maybe Barold can remind you!"

He pointed to where the wounded man was turning and moaning in his sleep. His shoulder had gotten steadily worse during the day's march, and it was beyond the skill of Blair's young sister to heal it properly out here. Rogar looked over at him but was unimpressed by the smaller man's hurt.

"What's the matter Skara?" he asked. "Scared of a few little Elves are we?"

"Of course not!" Skara spat at out him, though it was a lie. He had never felt fear in a wood by night or light for many years, until he had glimpsed the Elvenwood. It held a power and a menace that he did not want to face for any longer than necessary.

"There's no sign of them yet, Rogar. We will escape them!" this part he said louder so that all could hear him. "We'll be home within a week, and the whole village will be feasting and drinking, and praising our strength. Then we will sell the captive and be well paid."

This said, he returned to keep watch. Soon afterwards one of his men returned from the wood with a boar he had skewered. Without heed of the danger, the starving men lit a fire and roasted it, feeling much better for their leader's words and their full bellies.

[Ivy of the Woods]

When Nura heard Blair being told to watch over the elf, she made a daring smile. She had been quite worried for the elf when the men talked of entertainment, but she knew Blair would never go that far. Especially with his child sister around. Nura almost resented being thought of by everyone as a child, she was after all 17 now, but more thankful. The men still scared her after all these years but they were quite used to her.

Jumping out of her thoughts, Nura realised the boar was quite well cooked and she would not want to burn it. Quitely announcing it cooked, the men leaped at the food wihtout second thought. Nura looked at them, a little disgusted, they hardly even bothered to chew. She walked over to Blair with his bit of the meat and the elven girl caught her eye. Hesistantly she ripped off a small piece of the meat and hid it in her little pouch.

Blair, being fully distracted by his food, did not notice when Nura approched the elf girl.

"I... my name is Nura" she said, kneeling down beside her and smiling cautiously "What is yours?"

"Nuhrive." replied the elf and Nura smiled broadened

"I don't know what they will give you to eat, Nuhrive." Nura whispered "Here."
Nura took out the piece of meat for the elf, side glancing at Blair who was scarfing down the boar meat.

[ January 10, 2003: Message edited by: Ivy of the Woods ]

[Ithaeliel]

Ru-Sahn ate quickly and wordlessly, not bothering to use any sort of manners, for he was too hungry. Not since that morning had he been fed, and they had since been many miles. As he bit off a chunk of the juicy meat, he heard a hint of a voice behind him. Not daring to look over his shoulder, Ru closed his eyes and listened intently.

"My name is Nura. What is yours?"

"Nuhrive."

Nuhrive. Such a pretty name, Ru thought as he continued to wolf down the boar. Suddenly he smiled, a sly look across his features. The girl, Nura, would earn Nuhrive's trust. The mousy little healer wouldn't dare defy the men of her tribe, least of all her brother, Blair, who at the moment sat across from Ru-Sahn. The weaponsmith's face broke into a grin. Nura would be the tribe's ticket to everything they needed to know.

After the meal, Ru-Sahn approached Skara, their leader. The man was sitting idly on a boulder, and he appeared to be thinking hard. Ru came quietly behind him, only stopping when he was at his shoulder. "Skara," he said, and the woodsman looked up, startled by Ru-Sahn's quiet entrance, not to mention the sound of his voice, which was not to be heard all that often. Interested, he stood. "What is this that is so momentous you should seek me out, Ru-Sahn? Or is it important at all?"

Ru's face remained stern and serious. "It concerns the girl," he said in a low tone. Skara's eyebrows raised as he nodded for Ru to continue.

"From her I have obtained the fine elven dagger which is even now at my side, that which has until now been beyond me to attempt in the crafting of such a thing. But no longer. I have reaped my benifits with the capture of the weapon," Ru-Sahn said, then leaning toward Skara. "Why should you not reap yours?"

Skara chuckled under his breath. "I very much like the sound of this, Ru-Sahn. Have you a way for me to collect my profit?"

Looking over his shoulder and back to Skara, Ru-Sahn smirked. "The little healer girl, Nura," he muttered. "She has earned the trust of the girl, even so much as to learn her name: Nuhrivë. She could learn more from the girl in her gentility than we could ever assume. She may learn the ways of her kindred, the weaknesses, a way to avoid their most deadly tactics for battle. It will be to your advantage- the Eldar will come for her, of that I have no doubt. We must be ready. And if we can defeat the immortal kindreds, we can defeat almost any army that the Valar may send against us. So what say ye to that, Skara?"

The woodsman's eyes were aflame. "I say that it shall be so!" He clasped Ru-Sahn's hand firmly.

[ January 11, 2003: Message edited by: Ithaeliel ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Nuhrive slumped againgst a tree again, glad to rest her tires feet. The men had dragged her along for most of the day; it was now twilight. Her feet ached and her wrists, bound with tough rope by which her captors had dragged her along, which had sawed through the skin on her wrists, making them raw and bleeding. She had tried to hold onto the ropes, in an attempt to stop the pain on her wrists, so her fingers and palms were in much the same state. A cut across her forehead was stark against her pale skin, and a large bruise had formed on high on her cheeks; the easterlings had struck her several times, when they lost patience, or she somehow offended them by, ooh, I dont know, breathing in the wrong way maybe? Most were afraid of damaging 'their prize', but Ru-Sahn had struck out on her face. The big man seemed to have taken her living as a personal imsult to him.

Her hair, thankfully short, was none the less tangled with twigs and dirt. Even in the circumstances, she smiled slightly to think of most of the other elf maids in this way, with their long blonde hair that they were soooo proud.

Ru-Sahns blow had not been completely uncompensated and Nuhrive had to stop herself smiling widely as she felt the back of her belt where, under her robe, she had hidden her dagger. Ignorant human fool, did he think he would have been able to keep her precious blade away from her?

She watched the camps activity through a narrow gap between her eyelashes. Nura...where was Nura? She started to panic; without the kind human girl, the plan she had focused on all day to stop her from giving up would fall apart.

"Hello Nuhrive." The small voice was from behind the tree. Nuhrive would have jumped in surprise, was she not so shattered.

"Hello Nura." She replied through unmoving lips. "Listen Nura, I have a plan but...but I need your help.

Can you distract the men? I need to escape, I fear they plan slavery, or...worse. Please, I need to get away, and I cant do this without you."

There was a silence as the girl seemed to mull over this. The elf maid held her breath, biting her lip. Please Nura, please...

"I will do it." She said finally and Nuhrive had to stop herself leaping up with joy. She opened her mouth again but Nura got in there first. "But-"
But? Theres a but? Why is there a but? Nuras thoughts jumped around as the rest of her froze...
"But you have to take me with you. Back to that...that beautiful wood." Nura breathed. Nuhrive continued to not breathe. Take a human back to Lorien? Could she do this?

She turned her head slightly, looking at the girl by whom her life would be decided, hovering nervously just behind the tree, her face as bruised as Nuhrives own, but kindness and hope shining in her eyes. Oh what the heck about some old elves...

"Of course, sister." She replied. Nura smiled widely and Nuhrive wondered how she would have fully reacted if they werent possible being watched. Without another word, the girl slipped away.

Taking the dagger from her belt, Nuhrive started to saw quietly through the rope around her wrists. In a few hours she would be gone, back to her home...

[Ivy of the Woods]

Nura grinned and almost cried with joy. She, Nura, would see the elves, talk with them, live with them.... it was too good to be true! The thought hit her like a blow, what about Blair? She could not abandon him, betray him, he was her brother. Her only family. What would he say if he knew? She almost wept with shame. But then there was Nuhrive... the poor thing, Nura could not leave her to that fate.

She jumped suddenly, realising she had wandered away from the camp. She looked around with slight panic, taking a deep breath she stood still and listening to the sounds of the men. They were rowdy and loud so she found the direction of the camp without much trouble. Whilst heading back, thinking of a plan, she found herself faced with six wild boars between her and the camp.

Luckily they did not notice her and Nura stood perfectly still and her large brown eyes opened wide, not taking the chance to part her lips to breath. Her mind worked fast and she found these boar were a way out, a way to get to the elves. Carefully she bent over and picked up two good sized rocks. Taking a deep breath she cried out and banged the rocks repeatedly together. The boar, so startled, immediately ran from the noise, toward the camp. Nura ran after them, making as much noise as possible.

The boar reached the camp and all chaos broke loose. Startled out of their wits, the boars didn't not turn back but attacked the camp of men. The men, just as startled, jumped to get their weapons and yells filled the camp. Nura ran to find Nuhrive.

[ January 13, 2003: Message edited by: Ivy of the Woods ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Nuhrives already raw hands were now streaming with blood. The dagger had slipped more than once in her hand and she had always kept in well sharpened, for better and worse in this case. Gritting her teeth, so sawed steadily on...

"Boars! Wild Boars!"

Chaos broke out suddenly as Nura yelled the words. The easterlings jumped up and started garbbing weapons, yelling at each other in their harsh tongue and crashing into each other in their rush. It would have been funny if it wasnt so entirely perfect! Nuhrive smiled and continued to saw away. There were but a few strands left...

"Come on Nuhrive! Lets go!" Nura rushed up, her face flushed. She was smiling outwardly but the elf could see the clash of feelings inside. Why? They treated her so badly...

With a final extra hard attempt, she dragged the blade across the strands, her hands flying outwards, freed. Yes!

"Aye. Come on Nura." She stood, stamping her shaky feet a few times and putting the dagger in her belt. She could deal with her hands later. That is, if there was a later...Nura was still hovering.

"Nura! Please." She was getting desperate now. The girl seemed to come out of her trance and, taking a deep breath she followed Nuhrive into the wood, away from the chaos of the camp...

[Susan Delgado]

What was taking so long? Sultir was watching the adults stand around discussing things, and meanwhile Nuhrive could already be dead. But what could he do? If he ran off without them, he could get hurt and die, or be captured himself. He'd just have to wait, he supposed, though it did grate.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

When would they leave? It seemed they had stood idle for far too long. Who could tell where Nuhrive was now? If they waited any longer, they may not find her alive, if they even found her at all. Harlon was tripping over invisible objects and doing cartwheel after cartwheel.

Jemel counted. The searchers included Feadhros, Harlon, Thoriel, Gareth, Lilebrian, and herself. That was five. Was it enough? Jemel guessed that it was at least better than having too many. What would happen if they were to take the Easterlings by force? Surely there were at least twice as many of them as there were searchers. Still, they couldn't leave Nuhrive to fate.

"We should go soon, before the sun rises. We have still a few hours, we could cover some distance if the Easterlings are asleep or taking rest," Jemel suggested.

[ January 14, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[dragoneyes]

Thoriel tried to stifle her laughter as Harlon did a particularly elaborate trip while just walking from one side of the room to the other. She then turned her attention to Jemel who looked ready to make some kind of announcement.
"We shall be leaving as soon as we are ready, please assemble outside when you are ready to leave."

The company left the hall, by the time Thoriel had gotten outside, Lilebrian had already mounted her horse and looked eager to leave. Thoriel's own horse was a little way away, with a good supply of arrows and some food. She approached the stallion, he was as black as the night, she greeted him and jumped lightly onto his back. She urged him on and they trotted round to the doors of the hall. Soon they were all their except for Harlon who stubled in, followed by his steed. After a few failed attempts from him to mount his horse, gaining a laugh or two from the crowd, he clambered on and they were able to move off towards the outside world.

[Ithaeliel]

Feadhros turned around and smiled with relief at Jemel's announcement. "So we are finally to depart," he said with a sigh. "I am glad." He turned to Galadriel, kneeling in reverence. "I vow my loyalty to thee still, Lady. I believe I speak for us all when I say we will go to the ends of the earth, if need be, to bring Nuhrive safely home." Feadhros saluted Galadriel before turning to depart and gather his belongings. On the way out he saw Sultir, who was close to tears at not being able to come. He stopped. "Sultir, I promise I will bring her back. We will not allow anything more to happen to her. I give you my word. Tell that to Isolde and Milar for me," he said quietly. Sultir merely nodded, his eyes cast down. Feadhros left then, breaking into a run as he went to the stables. His white steed neighed softly as he saddled him and fed him. "Come, Ithilion... we must go quickly. Nuhrive needs us. I fear for her."

Riding back in the direction of the great halls, Feadhros jumped off at a house beneath a great mallorn, throwing wide the door and entering without a second thought. A woman sat at a loom, weaving silvery threads into a fine grey cloth. She stopped and looked up as Feadhros entered. "You seem at unease. Has something happened that I should know of, Feadhros?"

"Indeed, mother; a grave sequence of events has taken place here: Easterlings came to the Wood, and they have taken Nuhrive," he explained as he stepped over his mother's work into the kitchen. "I have volunteered myself to the search party. We leave as soon as possible. It is a small group, but I think that with the strength of those we have, it will suffice." As he stuffed a few squares of lembas into his bag, he looked up at his mother, whose face portrayed shock and horror, now softening to worry for her child. Turning back to her work, she sighed. "You will want your bow, Feadhros. You must pack quickly if they are expecting you back."

Feadhros sighed. "Mother, I will not let anything happen. I'll come back safe and sound, as I have before. I guarantee it."

"You cannot guarantee your safety, Feadhros, my son," she said as she turned back to him. Her face was stained with tears. "You can only hope. I know I shouldn't worry; you'll do well... yet it is hard for a mother to let her son go to pursue such a quest."

Feadhros smiled. "I will return alive and well, and Nuhrive will return with us. We will not fail." With that, he shouldered his quiver and pack, lifting the grey bow his father had made for him off of its place on the wall. He gripped the wood as he hugged his mother and said goodbye. "Tell father what I've told thee, my dear mother."

Stepping outside and shutting the door, Feadhros mounted Ithilion and sped off in the direction of the halls. Upon his arrival, Thoriel, Lilebrian, Garen, Jemel, and Harlon were already there, waiting. Now they rode away to the borders of Lorien, soon to be far away from any haven as safe and welcoming as Caras Galadhon.

[ January 15, 2003: Message edited by: Ithaeliel ]

[Susan Delgado]

Sultir felt little comfort at Feadhros' words. How did he know what condition Nuhrive was in? He couldn't. He started to follow, so he could watch the searchers' departure, but felt a restraining hand on his shoulder. He looked up and met Lady Galadriel's gaze. He held it for a moment, then dropped his eyes. She knew. She knew his plan, and she would stop it, he knew it. Well, he'd snuck out before an he'd do it again! She may be the Lady of the Golden Wood, but she couldn't be everywhere. He frantically began revising his plan and was thinking so hard that he nearly missed her words. He paused his thoughts for a moment, and in the ensuing silence, he heard her.

"I think you should go and console the girl's parents, young wind-watcher. Afterward is not my concern, as I have many things to do and can't be everywhere. Now go. I believe their quarters are that way." At this, she dropped her hands and walked away without a look back.

He stared after her, disbelieving. Had she just all but given him permission to follow the searchers? Surely not, but the way she'd echoed his very thoughts! Well, he'd go anyway but it was good to think that she might understand.

When he spoke to Isolde and Milar, they were comforted by the fact that Sultir was going on the search party, though surprised because of his age. He'd conveniently forgotten to mention that his presence there was not exactly licensed. they didn't need to know that; thee information would not help them in any way.

He considered going on foot, because it would be quieter, then realised that since the others were on horseback, they'd be much more likely to leave him behind. So, he borrowed a horse and started after the searchers.

[ January 14, 2003: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[doug*platypus]

"The Eldar will come for her, of that I have no doubt."

The words echoed in Skara's mind, as he thought on his companion's words. Rû-Sahn the Weaponsmith was talking about wheedling information out of the Elf-child before they passed her on. Skara had not heard the strange word Eldar before, but it was plain that his fellow spoke of the Fair Folk. Rû-Sahn seemed sometimes of a slightly different breed himself. He fitted in well enough with his people, but there was a certain air about him. Skara was not surprised to hear strange words coming from his mouth, and easily concealed the fact that Rû-Sahn had let this slip.

"I say that it shall be so!" Skara said as he clasped Rû-Sahn's hand firmly. Truly enough, for to learn of the Elves would surely extend Skara's influence. Knowledge was power, and if he was careful he could use this to his advantage. Perhaps a weakness could be found, and Skara could return with more men, search for more treasure. An Elven bow, perhaps, to match Rû-Sahn's dagger!

As he was mulling these fine plans in his head, suddenly Rû-Sahn stood erect and stared out into the darkness. Listening intently, Skara could hear the swift approach of several animals. He got to his feet and pulled an arrow from the quiver on the ground next to his seat. Fitting it loosely, he stood next to Rû-Sahn and looked out. The weaponsmith started shouting to raise the camp, just as Skara saw what he had heard - a pack of boars was attacking them - a camp of armed men!

What strange Elf-magic is this? Skara thought as he closed one eye and sighted down his bow. Behind him he could hear a great noise of confusion as men struggled out of their beds and went for their weapons. Skara kept his eye fixed on his target as it came charging towards him, though he was aware now of two more boars out of the corner of his eye. The beast was out of the firelight still, a heaving mass of flesh and sinew flying out of the dark at him like a primeval nightmare. The speed of the lead boar was magnificent. He was near enough now for Skara to see the steam coming from his great nostrils. Willing it closer, willing it not to swerve at the last second, Skara let his breath out and steadied himself. Twang! As soon as the boar could be clearly seen, Skara loosed his arrow. In its headlong flight the boar hastened his own destruction, as the arrow pierced through his snout and deep into the head. The boar without so much as a squel careered into the ground, as the rest of its pack drove in upon the Easterlings. Five or six the Woodsman counted running past him and into the camp.

Whipping out his short sword, Skara turned back to where his men were fighting with the boars, now amongst them and creating havoc. Only to trip on a stone and fall headlong into a puddle of mud. Cursing, he looked up and saw that his men were running here and there, some bumping into each other in the confusion, one or two still struggling into their underclothes to put up a more decent fight. This was madness!

Rushing in, his mind on killing the filthy pigs and stopping his men from hurting themselves, Skara did not think for even a second about the fate of his prize captive.

[Morai]

Harlon struggled to stay on his horse. He pulled tighter on the riens, hoping to regain his balance. Unfortunatley this startled the horse and it reared. Holding on for dear life, Harlon looked desperatly for help. Everyone seemed to be roaring with laughter.

"They can't believe I'm doing this on purpose, can they?" He thought.

Being a fool most of his life, Harlon never learned to ride a horse. He never realised they'd be riding horses on the search! Then Harlon mentally slapped himself. Of course they'd be riding, it was the fasted way.

[ January 18, 2003: Message edited by: Morai ]

[Ithaeliel]

Feadhros suddenly stopped laughing when he saw the resentment on Harlon's face. He dropped back beside the fool, gently touching the muzzle of the nervous horse. "Sîdh, roch o Lorien, sîdh! Beriad lîn hîr.." The horse stopped rearing and stomping and began to ride more smoothly. Feadhros looked at Harlon and shook his head, smiling. "Don't pull on the reins when you want your horse to move forward, Harlon," he said. "Try and take a little more caution, though I'm sure you'll be fine soon. After all," Feadhros finished as Ithilion trotted forward again, "we'll be riding these horses the entire journey, if luck is kind to us."

Harlon's eyes became wide at the statement. "The entire journey...?" he squeaked.

[ January 19, 2003: Message edited by: Ithaeliel ]

[Susan Delgado]

Sultir watched Garen approach and could see the Man's thoughts clearly on his face as he searched fruitlessly through the brush. Garen had seen him at the meeting before the group had departed and now hoped to find a stow-away. Sultir shook his head; astonished at how close Garen's musings were to the truth. However, Sultir had been paying close attention to the group and had known what it meant when Jemel stopped them. He'd quickly hidden his horse and climbed a tree and it was by the grace of Yavanna that it hadn't been an Elf who went to investigate. Well trained as Garen might be, he didn't know how to find an Elf who really didn't want to be found.

After several minutes of poking into the bushes, Garen gave up and returned to the Elves, very disappointed not to have found anything. He remounted and they continued on down the road. Faedhros gave a last look into the trees and his eyes met Sultir's. The boy heaved a sigh of relief that Faedhros was on his side. He'd have to be more careful in the future, though.

[ January 20, 2003: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jemel was glad when they were able to continue on, and tried to ignore the rustling of bushes and rare snapping of twigs behind the company. If it was something important, Feadhros would know and would stop them.

A scream of a bird echoed through the air as they traveled, and everyone turned their heads to see what it was. Aniram glided gracefully through the air, and came to a rest on Jemel's shoulder. When the group realized it was only Aniram, they went back to riding.

"Inyë harya lá atta quetequë," Jemel told the hawk, as she held out a few bread crumbs for him. It was true, she had no message for Galadriel, the rescue mission had been so peaceful and uneventful thus far. Except for that rustling in the bushes. Jemel rode up next to Feadhros.

"Mana ne sinomë i aldan?" Jemel asked him, wondering what was in the bushes. Feadhros looked at her, as if saying What do you think is was?

Then Jemel remembered what she had thought...In his shoes, I would stop at nothing to go and save a best friend. Sultir! Sultir was following them!

"Don't say anything!" Feadhros whispered this warning. Jemel nodded. Of course she would not say anything. She would be doing the same thing if she were Sultir.

[ January 19, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Nuhrive ran on through the underbrush, willing herself on. She could hear Nura's ragged breath beside her under her own panting. Suddenly she skidded to a halt, peering closely at a tree nearby.

"That tree...notice anything about the marks on the bark?" She asked Nura.

The girl peered at it for a moment before realising the same thing as Nuhrive and groaning. "No! We passed this about half an hour ago!"

"Indeed." Nuhrive flopped down on the ground beside her. "Who would have thought something with the translation 'Anroa and Shalsran will love each other forever' could be so forbidding?" Nuras eyes widened as she looked back at the tree and they both laughed, despite the situation; in fact, as much because of the situation.

Nuhrive handed the human girl a piece of lembas. "Sorry, I didnt grab any water."

"My fault as well." Nura replied, accepting it.

"I-" Nuhrive started, before ducking down and pulling Nura with her. Voices....human voices. The one she recognised as Skara's was strongest, angrily ringing out. In a few seconds they would come into view...rolling away, the elf girl crawled away as quietly as she could, with Nura following her.

"Pleas let us get away, please..."

[Ivy of the Woods]

Nura heartbeat raced so, she thought it just might burst. She prayed they would not find her, they would be so disapointed to find she had helped Nuhrive get away, they would be very angry.

Following as quietly as she could behind Nuhrive, wasn't quietly enough. Nuhrive went along almost without a sound but they would surely hear them with Nura tramplings. Nura swallowed, stopped and gave Nuhrive a worried look when she looked back.

"I will stop them," she whispered "you go on without me."

Without waiting for a reply Nura turned around and went back. As their voices approched Nura took a few deep breaths, knowing even if she was not to be found with Nuhrive, her story of running from the boars would still cause her pain. But Nuhrive would get back to her people, unless she was caught later then Nura would just have to think of something else to get her free.

"I am here!" she cried out her own people

[ January 21, 2003: Message edited by: Ivy of the Woods ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

"I will stop them. You go on."

The human girl started crawling away before Nuhrive could stop her.

"No!" Nuhrive hissed desperately after her. "No, come back! Oh, Eru!" She said a word her parents would be shocked she knew. She started crawling after Nura, just in time to see the girl leap up.

"Im here!" She yelled. "Im h-mmmph mmph!" Nuhrive had grabbed her with her hand over the other girls mouth as she dragged her back down into the bushes. Too late. The men had already seen and were looking over in their direction.

"There! They are there!" Ru-Sahns voice came out harshly. Nuhrive froze, even in that moment.
He had not spoken in the common tongue.
He had spoken those words in her own language.
The other men were creeping towards them now as they crouched frozen, Nuhrives hand still over Nuras mouth- she wasnt about to let her only friend at this moment give them both away, however noble the reasons. Skara was now peering into the bushes as well and their time was up. With a yell, Nuhrive sprang from the crouch she had been in and started sprinting. She saw Nura hesitate for a moment before, to her relief, the girl also started running after her. The men had paused, but only for a moment.

Nuhrive Fleetheart ran for her life.

[Ithaeliel]

Ru-Sahn tore after the shadow of the running girl, leaving Skara and the others to deal with the traitor, Nura. He soon discovered the girl was quick, but slowly, slowly he gained on her, his breath coming in hisses through clenched teeth. Following her through the dark labyrinth that was the forest, his sinews pushed to their extent, he sped onwards, only a little behind his target, who weaved and leapt through the wood, until finally he came within reach. Lunging forward, Ru-Sahn grabbed Nuhrive's shoulder, pulling her back. She yelled in fear and surprise as she fell to the ground, and reaching for her dagger grasped cold air. Turning back over she found its point at her throat. She stared up in surprise at Ru-Sahn. His face remained neutral.

"Tyulya, anyatimë," Ru-Sahn commanded the fearful girl. "Yes, I know your tongue well," he added when her eyes went wide. "Tyul!" he yelled, and Nuhrive stood. Ru-Sahn glared as he took her arm and led her back to the camp. "I never should have let you out of my sight," he muttered.

[ January 22, 2003: Message edited by: Ithaeliel ]

[Ivy of the Woods]

"Yer wench of a sister as been betraying us Blair" said one of the wild men and threw Nura at her brother's feet.

Nura almost whimpered as Blair grabbed her by her hair and pulled her to feet. Pulling her head back Blair stared her coldly in the eyes.

"Is this true Nura?" he growled, spitting on her face

"No, Blair, no..." no more than whisper came out of her and she was shaking with fear of her older brother.

"I hate it when you lie Nura..." Blair warned pulling her hair harder

"I'm sorry brother..." she pleaded, tears brimming her eyes, "I wanted to see the elves"

"The elves?!" yelled Blair, wiping saliva from his mouth. With a growl her threw her back onto the ground and she made not a noise.

"What are we going to do with her?" asked one of them with a cruel tone in his voice.

[Amanaduial the archer]

How did he know her tongue? How could an easterling know elvish? Nuhrive was dragged along in a daze, her own dagger point still at her throat, held in the grasp of Ru-Sahn. As they reached the others she was spun out of his grasp and thrown to the floor. She began to get to her knees but a blow from one of the mens hands knocked her back down.

To her surprise, none of the others stopped Ru-Sahn, nor complained as he hit her again. She realised with fear that her hope of protection, her hope of not being hurt because she was so precious was gone. She backed away, scrabbling to her feet and saw that he was still in front of her. She kept backing away before feeling the rough bark of a tree behind her. She gulped and looked up into Ru-Sahns face. His eyes were cold and now cold steel was once again at her throat. She gasped slightly as she felt her own blood trickling down her throat. She looked once again into the tall mans face, fear stopping her even from thinking...

[Ithaeliel]

The searchers had rode all day, until they finally reached the southern border of Mirkwood, and there they decided to rest and make camp. The moon was high in the sky, and near to their campsite was a steep, high hill that climaxed as a precipice. Feadhros, feeling restless, decided to climb to the top and survey the land. Springing up the side, he looked about at the moonlit tops of the trees of Mirkwood. Looking for a higher perch but finding none, Feadhros strained his eyes at what he thought might have been a glimmer of light, many leagues off in the distance. When he was sure he saw a faint whisp of smoke coming from the trees, he shouted to the others, who waited below. "My eyes have indeed served me well! I have descried a fire yonder, fifty and some leagues off into Mirkwood. It is likely a sign of our quarry!"

The entire camp seemed cheered at the news. "We must leave before sunrise if we are to gain speed on them," Lilebrian said.

"I might send Aniram to see if it is indeed the Easterlings," Jemel offered. Speaking to her hawk, the creature cocked his head, and soon he flew away north, toward the smoke that rose from the trees. Jemel smiled. "He will bring back a sign if it is them."

[ January 23, 2003: Message edited by: Ithaeliel ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Jemel watched as Aniram flew out of sight. Some of the company was already resting, though Jemel could not sleep. The trees held shadows as the bright light of the moon bore down upon the travelers. Jemel took a seat on the grass, listening closely for any noise from the direction of the rising smoke.

"You people are a tough crowd!" Jemel turned to see Harlon cartwheeling and tripping. Throwing imaginary rocks as he stumbled over any invisible stones he may have forgotten. Thoriel chuckled, while Lilebrian remained serious and unmoving. Garen smiled and shook his head at Harlon's joking antics.

In the distance, a very slight noise was heard. Jemel could sense the confusion in the sound, and Feadhros was immediatly stirred from his spot. He rushed to the top of the hill, Jemel at his heels. The rest of the company stared questioningly. Jemel motioned for them to stay.

A loud caw! sounded through the still night air. The flapping of wings and the dinstant shouts of burly men pierced the silence as well. Aniram's figure appeared over the hilltop, and carefully grasped in his beak was a dagger. A long dagger, well crafted with a beautiful green gem set into it.

"Mára mahta, Aniram?" Jemel called to the bird, smiling as the hawk gracefully soared and came to land on Jemel's outstreched forearm. Feadhros joined in, and held out a hand. Aniram let the dagger drop harmlessly into Feadhros's hand.

"Is it Nuhrive's?" Jemel asked as the two walked back towards the camp. Feadhros nodded as Jemel looked for some water or some bread for Aniram.

[ January 23, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[doug*platypus]

The Great Wood

The leagues were long indeed from the Elvenwood to the Great Wood. Skara, Rû-Sahn and the band of kidnappers had now covered half the distance back to their homes. For the first time since they had captured the elven girl, Skara felt that they had covered enough ground to rest properly, for the rest of the day and night.

The elfmaid, whose name Nu-Reif had been learned from Nura, had caused them no end of trouble. When the men had been attacked by a pack of crazed boars, she had escaped with the aid of Blair's sister. It took quite some time before they were both recaptured, and the sun was coming up before the camp was in order again. The wounded man, Barold, had been gored horribly by one of the boars. If those fools had only stayed calm, thought Skara, it might not have happened. To think, they were overrun by a pack of swine! In the confusion, Barold had been surprised and defenseless. With his wounds he would never have survived the trip home. He was barely conscious, panting and gibbering, when Rogar had to take the knife to him to end it. Skara put Rogar and two others to task to dig Barold a grave in whatever way they could find. When Rogar rejoined the rest of the group he was in a foul mood. Skara saw him watching with delight as Blair beat and scolded his foolish sister. Skara did not stop Blair from doing this - such behaviour had to be punished, and she should never have come along anyway.

"What are we going to do with her?" Rogar had asked with an evil tone in his voice.

Throughout the rest of the journey, a close watch was kept on Nura by both Blair and Rogar. Skara also kept one eye on Rogar. As if the captive was not enough to deal with! Now Skara had to worry about Blair's wench of a sister freeing her again, and also about what was going on in Rogar's twisted mind. He had begun to question almost every lead that Skara took, and he was often caught staring at Nura. He was the only man in the group bigger and stronger than Blair, or there would have been no concern. It would take several of the Easterlings to fight Rogar, and if he had some of his friends on his side it could prove very bad for Blair, and for Skara. Fortunately the weaponsmith Rû-Sahn still seemed loyal, and apart from Rogar only Bór, the brother of poor Barold would openly speak against Skara's advice. Since he was only young, however, noone paid any attention to him.

Nevertheless, in spite of their squabbling the men of the east had covered a good distance now without sign of pursuit. The girls now seemed too frightened to try and escape, after being recaptured last time. Skara had taken their elfcakes and trod them into the ground as a further punishment. The elf would now share what they ate, even if it made her retch, and she would be given only enough to keep her walking. After finding their rafts and crossing the Great River, the men with their captive had skirted the eaves of the Great Wood, heading north. Game was now plentiful, and there were even mushrooms and roots to gather. This was now Nura's job when at camp, with her brother guarding her.

They had then turned directly east into the forest, and now made straight for the morning sun. By entering so far north, Skara had hoped to throw off all chance of pursuit. Now fifty leagues from the southern edge, he doubted that even elf eyes could spy them from afar. The more Skara thought about it, the more he relaxed. For the Great River had done them a huge favour. There were no fords that he knew of, and the river was so wide that surely only the gods could have bridged it. Unless they used their wicked magic, the miserable elves would have to swim across, hopefully losing all trace of his men. Skara smiled, feeling better than he had for weeks. After throwing more fuel on to the fire from where he was sitting, he leaned back and began to doze.

[Ivy of the Woods]

Nura silently bent over the cluster of mushroom next to their camp and began to gather. Her eye was swollen and she was hurting all over from Blair beatings but she stayed close to him, mostly because she had no other choice. She was feeling the full force of her actions and Nura didn't think, even if they left her alone with her elven friend, that she could free Nuhrive. Blair was so disapointed and angry with her, she couldn't let him down again. Hoping to please him, Nura worked as hard as she could without falling over.

But Nura paused in her work, feeling some one's eyes on her back and they were not Blair's. She looked over her shoulder to see who. Her eyes met Rogar's and she shivered. He watched her too often and it scared her out of her wits, Rogar was her other reason to staying close to Blair no matter how hard he hit her.

A shadow fell over her, Blair's, as she turned back to the mushrooms and heard some one approching.

"I'll watch over her Blair, ye can go and rest" Nura heard Rogar's voice and all the muscles in her body seem to clench.

"Nah, I'm fine Rogar." replied her brother with a surprisingly commanding tone for some one who was smaller than the man he talked to.

Nura could feel Rogar's stare as he smirked and after a silent moment, walked away. Breathing a sigh of relief, Nura looked up at her brother.

"Get on with yer work, Nura." he commanded and she did.

[ January 26, 2003: Message edited by: Ivy of the Woods ]

[Ithaeliel]

Ru-Sahn was bitter the morning after. On top of Nuhrive's near escape and Nura's betrayal, he now bore a great gash on his right palm from when a hawk had suddenly swooped down from the sky and taken the elven-dagger from his hand. He knew more was afoot; no hawk flew by night, and few cared for the creations of the Children of Iluvatar. It was likely that the bird had been a spy for the girl's people.

Ru-Sahn chose not to bother with Nuhrive, for he knew that the speed of her recapture had frightened her into sumbission. Besides, she had caused him enough trouble. There were others who would watch her. Instead, he turned his attention to his craft, attempting to whittle knife-hilts and arrowheads like to the elves'. Now, as he chiseled the last letter of elvish script into the handle of one, he held it up in the sunlight, grinning as he prided himself on his improvement since he had had that elvish blade of Nuhrive's. It hardly seemed a loss now. But he would not show his work to Skara or any of the other men. He had come too close to revealing his origins already.

Later, Ru-Sahn sat on a boulder, polishing the hilt with an oiled rag, when he noticed the wearied elf-child sitting across from him. He smiled a little despite himself. "Look at this beautiful hilt," he spoke in the common tongue. "Not for nothing was the taking of your blade, young Nuhrive; I must say I am grateful."

The young elf glared at him before turning her head disdainfully. Ru-Sahn chuckled and went on with his labors. After a few minutes, Nuhrive glanced at him again. "How do you know my tongue?" she asked him suspiciously.

Ru-Sahn did not look up. "I've had experience with your kind before," he said simply. But Nuhrive shook her head. She knew there was more to it, though she did not care to meddle.

********

"Is it Nuhrive's?"

Feadhros nodded. "Look... there is blood on its edge. It is that of an Easterling."

Jemel smiled. "Nuhrive must have slain her guard and escaped!"

"Nay. There is too little. Someone was holding it before it was taken out of his hand. But it's still wet. We're very close to them."

Jemel stroked Aniram's head. "Mae carnen," she said to him. Then turning to the rest of the camp, she showed them the dagger and repeated what Feadhros had said to her. "If we leave before the sun, we may catch them. They are not as quick as we, for they have no horses."

[ January 25, 2003: Message edited by: Ithaeliel ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Everyone prepared to leave, for if they left before the sun rose, they should catch up to the kidnappers. Every few minutes, Jemel heard a rustle of leaves, and would lift her head. Just before she could see what it was, all was silent. Jemel sighed and walked over to join Feadhros.

"We can't keep Sultir following forever. There's no point in it, really. He probably could use a little walking without having to worry about us hearing him," Jemel turned a litte to face a small bush nearby. Sultir hid behind it, though he was probably trying hard not to rustle the branches.

Feadhros nodded and the two went to get Sultir. When they got to the bush, Jemel pulled back a few branches, and Feadhros smiled. Sultir was facing the other members of the rescue company, laying on his stomach.

"Mae govannen, Sultir," Feadhros interrupted the silence. Jemel shook her head and turned back to join the rest of the group, leaving Feadhros and Sultir by the brush.

Aniram came flying into the small valley, back from his hunt. Jemel planned on letting Aniram scout and follow the kidnappers, and returning to inform the pursuers of their position.

"I trust you remember the system?" Jemel inquired, though certainly not expecting an answer in words. Aniram nodded. The two had come up with a 'system' of sorts. Aniram would cock his head or make a noise for every mile that the kidnappers were ahead. Then he would turn towards the direction that they were headed.

"Lle ume quel, Aniram. Lle astalder," Jemel complemented. Aniram had done well, and he was a valiant hawk, if there ever was one.

"When will we be ready to leave?" Jemel asked aloud.

[Garen LiLorian]

Garen had woken early that morning, the thrill of the chase having revived in his blood after so many fruitless days of following. Now, surely, they were close to the prize. It was in the bearing of the hunters, in their likeness to the majestic bird of prey which sat briefly on Jemel's wrist before flying off on Garen knew not what errand. These treacherous men were near, and soon would be caught, and the honor of his house restored. This thought consumed him, brought fire into his limbs, worn weary by the passage of many leagues.

"When will we be ready to leave?" Jemel asked, and Garen answered her on behalf of all the company. "Now, or perhaps sooner. We have them as the hounds the hare. They cannot evade us for more than a day, weary as they must be, and on foot! Let us make an end of this, and so return in triumph to my house and yours!"

[doug*platypus]

The Passage of the Plains

Skara had woken early that morning, his head heavy. He felt as if he had been asleep for days, and quickly roused himself and his companions, eager to be up and moving.

It was now late morning, and finally after days of the stuffiness of the Great Wood, the trees were beginning to thin out. The last few days had been uneventful, though hardly pleasant. The situation with Rogar had become worse. He talked seldom to anyone but Bór, Barold's brother, and only grunted if Skara commanded him to do anything. Blair did not trust Rogar at all, and never let his sister out of his sight. Which was as well, thought Skara, since he would not allow Nura to escape. Likewise, Rû-Sahn kept a close watch on the elf child, although this duty was also shared around some of the other more trustworthy men.

Blair, Skara and Rû-Sahn were usually at the front of the line now, with the rest of the men strung out behind them. There was the odd grumble or two, and Skara was not certain where the loyalties of most of his men lay. Fortunately the trails were good and the game was plentiful. Skara himself had brought down a fair-sized hart the day before. He had been in fine mood that night, jesting with the men and telling of his past hunting glories. But at the back of his mind, always Skara worried that there would be strife before they reached home. With Rogar and Bór acting up, he could have a fight on his hands even if the elves had not followed them through the forest.

After another hour or so, the trees failed altogether. Skara breathed deep and looked out across the plains. He would be home, soon. He smiled wickedly at the elf girl as she looked out, terrified of so much open space. Next to him, Skara could feel Rû-Sahn tense up.

"What is it?" he asked, knowing that the weaponsmith was a man with strong senses.

"I do not know," Rû replied. "I feel... something. I fear that danger approaches."

As he said this, he was rubbing the palm of his bandaged hand. Skara looked at it nervously. He had of course noticed Rû-Sahn's wound, and questioned him about it in private. He did not believe the story that Rû-Sahn had told the men, and eventually learned from him that his wound was given by a spirit in hawk form. A spirit that was probably aiding the Fair Folk. It had also taken the child's fine dagger, at which Skara had laughed. It seemed as if Rû-Sahn's luck had not lasted.

"We must press on," Skara said to the Easterlings, who had now all gathered around the leaders. "Let us reach cover before we rest again."

They hoisted their burdens and continued east, with Skara looking cautiously back over his shoulder. He tried to shake his newfound uneasiness off, but found this more difficult than he would have thought.

[Ithaeliel]

Spirits lifted from the evidence that they had found the night before, the searchers slung their packs across the backs of their horses and rode on toward Mirkwood. Galloping as quickly as they were, the horses ran as though in a herd, occasionally shifting positions through the day. On one of these, Feadhros dropped to the rear of the travellers, and he noticed Harlon, who had his eyes squeezed shut and whose teeth were clenched in anxiety. Feadhros shouted to him over the noise of hooves on the plains. Harlon opened one eye. "Come again?"

"You're doing well," Feadhros told him. "You're keeping your balance!"

Harlon, as though amazed, looked at himself with raised eyebrows and grinned. "I am! I'm riding a horse!"

"I told you you could," Feadhros replied.

Reaching the very outermost trees of Mirkwood, the searchers stopped their horses. Aniram landed on Jemel's arm, gave a slight cry, and stretched his wings a bit. Jemel nodded. "Yes, my friend. We are getting closer."

Feadhros, knowing well the regions surrounding Lorien, came up beside Jemel. "I think it would be quickest to cut through the southern part of the forest and then turn northeast toward Rhun; we will intercept the Easterlings faster."

Jemel nodded. "Aniram tells me we are less than fifteen leagues behind them. By nightfall the victors shall be decided, if all goes according to plan."

Now the searchers trekked through the dense forest of Mirkwood. The air was thick, and if one waved their hand about in the forest, they could feel and almost see it move. The horses went a little slower than planned, seeming apprehensive of the wild wood and the shady creatures that seemed to creep about in the trees.
Everyone was frustrated with the horses. Feadhros constantly spoke to Ithilion, urging him onward through the dark. Eventually, Thoriel had worked her way up beside him, having a bolder steed than others of the company. "It's the spiders, is it not?" she whispered to Feadhros. "I have seen several remnants of cobwebs along our route through the forest."
Feadhros glanced to the side as they passed another silken thread strung through a tree. He thought he saw a brief black shape pass overhead. "It is the spiders," he answered Thoriel cautiously. "They are all about. They reign over this region of the forest."
Garen shuddered behind them as he heard a skittering in the bushes nearby. "Will they attack us?"
"I don't believe they would," Lilebrian answered. "We are too large for prey; rather we are the predators. We are armed as well."

Ithilion neighed softly and backed away as a shadowy creature ran in front of them, paused, and ran off in another direction.

[ February 24, 2003: Message edited by: Ithaeliel ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

"We must press on."

Nuhrive cursed silently. No! If they went again, she was going to have no chance to get away again! Surely others of her kind should be coming after her, if she could only get to them. I mean, they would be coming, wouldnt they...

Nuhrive shook her head, telling herself not to be so stupid. But to get to them (They would be there, she told herself fiercely) she had to get away again.

She didnt even think about it this time. They were all picking up their burdens, preparing to leave, to go east where...well, she had no idea what would happen to her then. As they were getting up, one easterling came over, pulling her to her feet and, spinning her around, he began to untie her arms; Ru-Sahn had insisted they would be going to slowly if she kept stumbling, and he was adamant someone was following them- something Nuhrive was counting on. She felt the ropes loosen around her wrists. Her fingers were clasped to form a hard knot of fingers and she hit backwards with this knot fast. The easterling doubled up as she hit a very sensitive spot. Without a seconds hesitation, she ran.

Hearing the easterling shout, having got his breath back, she turned her head, still running. She caught Nura's eyes. Her brothers hand was tight on her shoulder, but she wasnt even trying to run. Tears gleamed in her eyes. Nuhrive wished she had a chance to say sorry, or at least goodbye. As it was she could only hope the girl would take a chance, and maybe run after her...

Turning she put her head down and sprinted into the trees. But after a few minutes she was tiring, despite the adrenaline pumping in her veins. She knew she couldnt keep going for long. Taking in a deep breath, she yelled, calling some of the familiar names from Lorien, whos owners she hoped would be coming after her.

"Feadhros! Sultir! Harlon!" She didnt know what made her call the fools name, but she didnt have time to muse on it as she continued running, now tiring. She knew the easterlings were gaining on her and this time she just yelled meaninglessly, as loud as she could, as she felt hands close around her waist.

"Nooooooooo!"

[Morai]

Harlon heared the nearby cry. With a sprint he cartwheeled in the direction of the noise. Taking his performance, he shouted in Common Tounge:
"Greetings, I am a fool of sorts. The Lady of the Wood sent me here herself. I am Harlon, the greatest fool that ever...." His introduction was cut short. The easterling's leader grabbed his wrist. Wincing, he said:
" But wear is my lovely assistant? Bending down he checked the grass. Skara, Harlon's captor, had to bend over with him.

"Oh, where that silly creature!" Harlon pulled a dirty rag from Skara's pocket. "This yours? My, it's lovely. I think I'll sing a song about it." Tearing himself from the easterling's grip, he skipped away. Harlon started singing in elvish:

" Oh my, oh my
A peice of cloth for me,
It's so dirty, so dirty
I'll have to wash it
And dry it,
And hang it in a tree!" Dashing throught the camp he continued:
"Oh my, oh my,
Where is my assistant?
Where is that creature
In the distance?
Under this bush?
Behind this tree?
Oh well, a dirty cloth for me!"

[Ithaeliel]

Feadhros watched intently from the high branches of a tree as Harlon cavorted about the camp, singing a song about the dirty rag that he had found on the ground. The scout was surprised that they had caught the Easterlings so early, for that very morning they had been many miles away, deep into Mirkwood. Now Feadhros crouched over the head of one, an arrow fitted to his bow, waiting for the right moment. Glancing above, he saw Lilebrian eyeing the men individually, looking for the best target. Jemel was flattened against the trunk of the same tree, her knives drawn, and Aniram circled above, waiting to dive. Thoriel and Garen lay on their stomachs behind a nearby bush. Feadhros looked at each of them while trying to keep an eye out for Harlon, who was now tumbling in the midst of the Easterlings, throwing out sarcastic compliments to each of them. One of them ran for the fool wielding a spear, but Harlon somersaulted out of his range. "Why sir, there's no need to be hostile! Can't you Easterlings handle a bit of foolery and fun?"

The man ignored the comment, still running at the fool... who tripped at precisely the wrong time. Falling flat on his face, Harlon did not see the man raise the spear above his head, about to bring it into his back. But Feadhros did, and he knew the moment was right. Releasing the arrow, he winced as it hit his target right below the shoulderblade. The man froze for a moment before he slumped to the ground and lay still.

**********

Rû-Sahn looked about in surprise as one of the men fell in a heap on the ground. His eye caught a glimpse of a winged figure in the sky, and he did a double-take. "The hawk spirit..." he gasped. "The elves are here!" he shouted for the entire camp to hear, running for his knife. At that moment Feadhros and Lilebrian, who were acting as backup distractions, leapt out of the tree. Feadhros looked back toward the remaining three. "Find Nuhrive and get her away from here... hurry! Good luck!" Now turning back to the angered tribe of Easterlings, Feadhros strung another arrow and readied himself for battle.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Watching the events from her place behind the tree, Jemel knew it was time. Time to get Nuhrive out of here. Looking up into the air, Jemel knew it was time for Aniram to make his presence known to all, as one clever Easterling had done so already.

“Wanya Aniram! Kara lyaa sana hanya, mellon! Aruaka, fion mellon!” Jemel called to her hawk. Time to get this over with, Jemel told herself.

Turning to the other side of her tree trunk, Jemel located the burly and strong Easterling grabbing Nuhrive’s shoulder. Throwing the dagger in her right hand, it spun through the air creating a great whistling sound. Hoping for a hit, Jemel’s hopes were dashed as the Easterling lifted a sword quick as lightning to deflect the Elven weapon. Cursing her luck, Jemel rushed forward to attack on closer grounds.

Aniram bolted down from his spot in the sky and dove to the ground, carefully and skillfully grabbing Jemel’s lost dagger by the hilt. With a loud caw! Aniram flipped the knife into the air, and Jemel grasped it by the hilt when it reached her.

Let her go, fool. I don’t want to have to fight around her to kill you! Jemel thought. Jemel advanced on the Easterling, and he craftily pulled his shoulder back, hiding Nuhrive from view, but still leaving an arm open for combat. Think you’re that good, eh? Fight me one-handed if you want!

Jemel dashed forward, and drove in with her daggers at every open chance with the Easterling, but he easily deflected each blow she delivered. It became like a dance of sorts, as Jemel dashed and struck forward, and was driven back again by the huge and heavy sword of the Easterling. Every now and then Aniram would divert from his other fighting efforts and assist Jemel, but would be soon busied by another mini-battle going on in the very small clearing.

Losing her temper, Jemel risked the use of kicks. Any kicks she knew of she tried to use on the stout being in front of her. A spinning kick angled to the neck barely missed as his muscular arm blocked her attempt. A kick swung up and straight down like a hammer struck the man’s shoulder, but he only grunted.

Okay, so maybe he is that good. Jemel thought grimly, frustrated.

Now she decided to multitask. Using a pushing front kick, she shoved the Easterling backward with her foot, and used her dagger to disarm him. His sword flew to the side, gathering moist and muddy dirt. Perfect. As the Easterling went to grab his sword as quickly as he could, Jemel slashed at the Easterling’s arm that held Nuhrive hostage. His arm retracted in pain, and Nuhrive was free.

[Garen LiLorian]

At Feadhros' arrow, the camp exploded into action like a kicked anthill. Men scrambled for weapons, shouting in fear and anger as the ambush party of Elves erupted from the undergrowth. Garen rose from behind the bush, sunlight glinting off his spear and helm. The battle cry of his house rent the morning air; "Amrûnadan! Adan i Lórien!"

Garen moved swiftly towards Harlon the fool, who looked frightened and out of place amidst the fighting and dying. "Remember the plan, fool!" He shouted, parrying a wild thrust with the haft of his spear. "Find the lady, and get her away! We'll follow as we can." Harlon nodded and bounded away across the battlefield towards Nuhrive and Jemel.

Garen moved across the battlefield again, seeking the captain he knew must be there. Again he shouted his challenge, and again was met with the weaponry of the Easterlings, but these men were thieves and brigands, not warriors, and Garen wasn't interested in wanton death. He drove his man away with a quick flurry of spear thrusts, than reversed the weapon, bringing the haft down hard on the unprotected head of the man, who sighed and went limp.

[Morai]

Harlon dashed towards Jemel's tough situation. Weaving in and out of battle, he barely missed an easterlings dagger. Feeling worn out, Harlon nibbled on lembas. Desperately trying to catch his breath quietly,he stood behind Nuhrive.

"Come on, lift your weapon up. What are you waiting for! Attempt to injure my friend already!"Harlon thought impatiently.

Finally the easterling reached his sword up high. Harlon tickled his victim until he loosened his grip on Nuhrive. Noticing the elf girl was gone, the easterling spun around. Seeing Harlon, he swung his weapon in anger. Unfortunately, the sword was no longer in his grasp.

"My, this is shiny. I should have been a warrior instead of a Jester. Do you think I would be good at it?" Harlon sang so the easterling could understand.

The easterling growled. The elf took off. Running with a weapon proved harder than without. Harlon stumbled about bumping into fights. He was loosing speed....

[ March 04, 2003: Message edited by: Morai ]

[Ivy of the Woods]

"The elves!" Nura exclaimed with too much excitement for Blair's liking as his pulled out his sword and tightened his grip on her shoulder “Let go Blair!”

Nura elbowed him in the ribs hard making her brother gasped and fall forward. As he lay on the ground, Nura realised it wasn’t her elbow that made him fall, but the arrow in his back. He cried out in pain and Nura dropped to her knees beside him.

“Oh Blair” tears welled up in her eyes “I’m sorry, oh this is my fault. Oh my brother.”

She called for one of the Easterlings to help her, but they all had much else on their minds. A shadow fell over her and Nura looked up with relief in her face. Her expression quickly turned to fear as Rogar grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet with a smirk. His cruel eyes locked on hers and she did not want to know what ideas were going on in his head.

“No!” she cried as he tried dragged her away from Blair “Help! Nuhrive! ”

Nura could not see her elven friend among the Easterlings and grew more afraid for Nuhrive than for herself, praying that she hadn’t been killed. “Nuhrive, why didn’t I help you?”

As she fought Rogar’s gripped he growled and struck her across the face painfully. Nura kicked his shins but to no avail.”Little wench” he grumbled and threw her over his shoulder.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Nuhrive heard sounds of violence from behind her and, confused, she looked over her shoulder and saw the easterling was no longer pursuing her! She stopped, trying to catch her breath and listened harder for the sounds from the place where she had just run from. A smile crept over her face; the elves! She was now grinning madly, but then she heard the sound of feet coming fast in her direction; two sets of feet! Nuhrive didnt try to run again; she was far too out of breath. She ducked into some thick bushes and moments later her the first 'pursuer' bound into view, lugging a sword too big and too heavy for him, his cheerful outfit rather tattered now, his round face flustered.

"Harlon!" Nuhrive almost shouted, then lowered her voice. "Harlon! Psssst!" She hissed. The fool turned and spotted her, Nuhrive darted forward, grabbing the fool and dragging him into her hiding place.

Moments later a huge easterling ran into view, his sheath notably empty. Harlon grinned sheepishly as Nuhrive glared at him. She lifted a moderately large stone and threw it into the bushes further back. The dim witted easterling immediately took off away in that direction. But Nuhrive was going to make sure the easterling didnt come back; she took her dagger out of her sheath. She murmered a small prayer over the elegant weapon, then hurled it accurately at the easterling.

The dagger struck his back and went in up to the hilt, but Nuhrive looked away. The huge man roared in anger and pain, staggering about before falling with a crash into the bushes. Nuhrive breathed a sigh of relief and, walking swiftly over, took the dagger from his back. But he wasnt fully dead, but dying slowly. Nuhrive gritted her teeth; she knew what had to be done in cases like this, to stop someone suffering, no matter who they were. She lifted his head with a firm hand and slit his throat. Immediately the man slumped, completely dead. Nuhrive wiped her dagger on the grass with a shudder and walked back to Harlon, trying not to show her distress.

"Come on." She said, taking off towards the camp.

"Where are you going?" Harlon was still out of breath. "I have to take you back to safety."

Nuhrive smiled at him, but there was a grim edge to it. "Thank you Harlon, but I will not simply sit in a safe place. I have a friend back there." She remembered Nura's face all too well. Without another word she ran off in the direction of the battle. Harlon stared after her in a depressed way, then sighed hopelessly and followed, huffing and puffing.

[Morai]

Harlon dashed after Nuhrive. He shook his head at the elf. "Eru! Why doesn't she ever listen! I may be a fool, but I know when to stop being foolish. I think..."The Fool thought. As Harlon sped up, he felt his second wind coming on.

When they neared Nura and the easterling, Harlon climbed a nearby tree. Examining the situation, Harlon sighed. Sure the fool was an excelent acrobat, but never had he encoutered such danger.

Spotting Nuhrive about to attempt a rescue, he hung himself from the tree by his knees. Pulling Nuhrive up he scolded quietly:"Patience my assistant, we'll rescue her soon enough. Can you lift more than your weight?"

Nuhrive didn't appear to be listening. Her focus was on Nura. Harlon rolled his eyes as shook her for attention.

"Hey! What are you doing, I have to rescue Nura!" She whispered.

"Trust me, this fool knows what he's doing. I'll ask you again, can you lift more than your own weight?"