Wolf Run RPG

[piosenniel]

They had been waiting in a thick copse of scrub trees at the southwestern edge of the Weather Hills. A brief rest before they tracked the two-leggeds. Dûrêl sniffed at the breezes, taking in all the news they carried. A deer, some miles away to the north, moving further away, its scent growing fainter . . . the smells of the trees and earth and even the sun warmed rocks . . .and faint, very faint the scent of the river’s water, to the west . . .

The five Wolves who had come with her edged near her. Their bodies quivered with anticipation of the hunt, yellowed eyes flashing with the thoughts of hunting the hunters. One of them, a young male, gave a low whine of eagerness. Dûrêl turned on him swiftly with slashing teeth, cowing him.

‘Silence!’ growled the Warg, menacing and low.

Her ears caught the sound of something to the north. The Wolves had heard it, too. A dog, howling. Not too far away.

As one they moved from the copse northward, staying beneath the trees as they could, trotting swiftly along the rocky ridges of the hills, coming to the place where they could see who hunted them. They approached down wind of the trackers. There were four two-leggeds and only one dog – one of the two-leggeds looked to be older, though he carried a large thick stick and walked about without any sign of weakness. The other three were younger, and looked to be carrying blades.

The Warg wrinkled her snout in disgust – there was fear she smelled! The scent of someone’s last meal lay souring in the sun. What kind of hunters were these to fear their prey. He motioned with his head, and the pack descended toward their target at a dead run.

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

Nop heard them, and began to bark furiously, standing stiff legged by Elfred. Elfred raised his stick in his thick hands, staring in the direction toward which Nop faced. ‘Wolves!’ he shouted. ‘We are being attacked!’

Autumn, Olo, and Ned came swiftly to his side, readying their weapons. They spread out a little, to form a hasty line of defense. The five Wolves slowed as they approached the group, slowly advancing, their heads low and snarling, eyes fixed on the weapons of the defenders.

The Warg, Dûrêl, hung back, stopping to assess the strength of the group before her. ‘One of you, come with me.’ he growled. ‘We will cut the old man from the flock, and bring him down first. Beware the dog and that stick he holds! You others – take the remaining three. Kill them if you can.’

Three wolves charged the line, slashing and biting furiously at the three younger members, drawing their full attention. The Warg waited for the opening she needed and then moved in with deadly precision, cutting Elfred from the other three.

Nop charged the two, a look of savage determination on his face. The Wolf engaged him, blocking his advance toward Elfred. He slashed the dog along his flank, ripping open his skin. Nop turned and leaped at him, his teeth finding purchase on the Wolf’s ear. Bleeding profusely, he brought the Wolf down.

Elfred, seeing his boon companion in dire straits, turned with his stick and aimed a blow for the Wolf’s head, killing him. It was an understandable action, and a fatal mistake.

The Warg moved in, launching herself at the back of the elder Hobbit. The weight of her attack brought Elfred down, and with a snap of her mighty jaws, he broke the Hobbit’s neck, sending his body flying with a shake of his head. Nop lunged at the Warg, but he, too, was flung in the air. The Warg had managed a hold on the nape of the dog’s neck, but the skin had torn as the Warg’s teeth slashed at it, and she had lost the hold as he shook the dog. Nop flew through the air to land in a bloodied heap some distance away.

Dûrêl turned her attention now to the three who defended themselves against the onslaught of the three Wolves . . .

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

[ January 09, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Olo Gamwich]

Shortly after leaving camp, Olo began to feel tense. Demise seemed to be enshrouding the company as they trekked through the hills. Nop suddenly began to bark loudly; a sign perceived by Elfred as an oncoming attack.

Olo unsheathed his sword and, with Autumn and Ned, stood ground. A cold sweat trickled from his brow, sword in trembling hand. It was then that a warg and five wolves stormed over a nearby hill and into the party.

A large wolf leaped for Olo's neck. He attempted to evade; escaping death but bitterly slashed across the face by a long, sharp nail from the malicious beast. It turned and seized Olo's right arm. His sword dropped to the ground; the blade sticking into the soft ground. With his free left hand, Olo thrusted his fingers into one of the wolf's eyes, gorging it out. The wolf released his arm and howled in confusion and pain.

Olo quickly snatched his blade from the earth and with a fierce swing slit the creature's throat. Wounded and exhausted, the hobbit collapsed on the side of the hill...

[ January 06, 2003: Message edited by: Olo Gamwich ]

[ January 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Garen LiLorian]

Nop's bark cut the air, shocking Ned from his contemplation of the dried fruit before him. 'Wolves!’ came Elfred's shout. ‘We are being attacked!’

Ned fumbled his new axe from his belt, and loosened his other weaponry for quick access. Everything went into slow motion. Quite clearly he heard the click of claws over stone, the heavy breath of the wolves, Elfred's shouted commands. He moved into place slowly. His hand trembled as he brought up his axe, sighted along it, and threw it. It was a perfect toss, and Ned seemed to have all the time in the world to admire the glint of sunshine off of the blade as it twirled towards its target; the closest, and smallest of the wolves. Unfortunetely, when you are practising throwing knives, axes and stones, you rarely are allowed moving targets to practise on. Ned noted this with one corner of his brain.

The axe was, as aforesaid, a perfect toss. If the wolf hadn't dodged, it'd have been one mighty sick wolf. As it was, the blade gouged a line down its flank, and caused the wolf to veer aside from its intended target, Autumn, and head right for him, the handle of the axe still wagging from its flank. Even a wounded wolf could move awfully fast, and Ned's hands wouldn't work, grabbing first at his other axe, then at his sword. It was 10 feet away. Ned grabbed the sword. 5 feet. He started to pull the blade. It seemed to take forever to come out. Miles and miles of gleaming steel. Then there was no more time, and the wolf crashed into him, its jaws slavering as they searched for some hold.

Ned desperately tried to keep it away. His sword, forgotten, slid the rest of the way out and lay on the ground. He was holding its neck, and the awful jaws were 2 inches from his face, the paws scrabbling on his chest causing long, painful furrows. He wondered how the others were doing, hoped one of them could come to his rescue, but knew it wasn't going to happen. 'This is it, Ned,' he thought, 'the end of my story. It was pretty short. Wish I could have seen the rest of the tale.' The wolf lunged again, and Ned didn't have the strength to hold it off. All he could do was yank his head to the side. The wolf's teeth sunk into his shoulder, and he screamed. The pain was excruciating.

That was when he saw his axe, still sticking from the side of the creature. His hand was free now, and he reached for it, pulled it loose, and swung down. The wolf didn't expect this. Its prey was down, it had a hold. This was supposed to be the end. Then pain lanced through its side, over and over again. Ned didn't have the strength to kill the beast from this angle, but he was hurting it badly, and it was getting demoralized. It let go, backed off, the ran back towards the safety of the rest of the pack.

"Coward." Ned muttered, smiling tightly through the pain. Darkness reached for him, and almost he welcomed it, but shook his head, swimming back towards consciousness. 'That'd be great, Ned Brandybuck. Just when they need you, you go and let them down,' He thought.

His left arm didn't obey any of his commands, and the pain very nearly caused him to vomit again, but somehow he managed to struggle to his knees, and surveyed the battlefield. Elfred was down, Nop lay bleeding in a pile. Olo seemed to have killed one of them, but was on the ground as well, facing away, and Ned couldn't tell if he was conscious or not. Another of the beasts lay beside Elfred, its skull smashed in. Then he panned across to Autumn. As he watched, all the unharmed animals were advancing on the pale but resolute lass. One sprung...

[ January 07, 2003: Message edited by: Garen LiLorian ]

[piosenniel]

Two of his Wolves were dead and one had dragged itself from the fray, bleeding profusely; it too would soon be dead. Dûrêl pulled back, taking stock of who was left. One of the men was dead, and two lay still on the ground. Only the woman remained.

He growled at the last two wolves and they hurried to his side. Heads lowered, snarling, the dark phalanx advanced on their prey. Yellow eyes fixed on the grim faced woman with the yellow hair, as she held her weapon ready.

A sharp bark from the Warg and the lead Wolf broke into a run, leaping as he drew near the lone defender . . .

[ January 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Garen LiLorian]

Ned scrambled for his sword. At the moment, all the beasts were focused on Autumn, and the hindquarters of the big one were no more than 10 feet from him. His hand closed on the handle, and he crawled forward, the sword clenched in his good hand dragging through the dust. If it would just keep focused for a few more seconds... Ned was pretty sure he didn't have the strength to kill the beast, but he hoped he could at least keep it from finishing off Autumn. Every little bit helps...

5 feet. Then 3. Almost there. He reared up, sword poised. The Warg's ears pricked up. It spun around. Too slow. The keenly edged blade bit through skin and muscle and lodged, quivering, in the creatures right flank. The blade was torn from his grasp as the beast spun, and was flung through the air to land harmlessly in the grass. Ned, still on his knees, stared into the eyes of the beast. He was completely helpless now, and he knew it. His hands were held in front of him, miles away from the axe at his belt. The Warg stared at him for what seemed an eternity. Then it howled, full of anguish...

[ January 07, 2003: Message edited by: Garen LiLorian ]

[Galadel Vinorel]

Autumn watched angrily as the wargs and wolves approached her. Suddenly Ned sprang from her side and swung his sword at the wolf, barely hurting it at all. Then Ned fell not too far away form the slightly injured wolf adn the wolf howled and then growled at him and prepared to attack. Autumn knew that Ned couldn't defend himself, so she quickly ran and put herself between the wolf and Ned.

The other wolf and wargs then came and joined their companion, growling fiercly at her. Calmly Autumn turned her sword upward and grinned at the warg; the lass had faced wargs and wolves before and killed them, she was not afraid now. All that she was thinking of right then was how to treat the wounds of her friends.

One of the wolves sprang forward, and as he leapt Autumn swung her sword across his chest. The wolf lunged for the hobbit's right arm, but just as he was about to bite into it, Autumn jerked her arm away and stabbed the wolf through one of his eyes. The wolf jerked back, but his teeth still caught in her skin and it tore away as he backed off. Autumn gritted her teeth as pain rang through her arm, and she quickly switched her sword to her left hand. The wolf stood in front of her, the lass' blood dripping form his teeth.

Then the wolf leapt at her again and Autumn struck the sword right through his skull, and the wolf fell down dead. The other wolf howled, angry to see that small hobbit kill his friend and leapt over the other wolf's body straight at Autumn's neck. The hobit then took a knife from her side and threw it right into his open mouth. The wolf fell backwards onto his friend and lay for a while making horrible gurgling noises. Then the light died in his eye's and the last of those wolves were dead.

Now all that remained was the warg. As the warg faced Autumn it growled and lunged at her. Smoothily realing her blade Autumn ducked and swept the sword along his back, cutting off most of that fur. He howled in pain and then scratched her deeply on her upper right arm. The warg howled once again and ran away from Autumn off past the Weather Hills.

After he left, Autumn fell backwards and lay there in pain on the ground, her right arm a bloddy mess. After a little while Autumn got up and began to rap Ned, Olo, and Nop's wounds and put herbs on them to help them heal faster. Then Olo wrapped the lass' arm and put it in a sling, for it was seriously wounded. Next Autumn moved to treat Elfred. But Elfred's eyes were closed, and the hobbit could feel no pulse. Olo and Ned came over to Autumn, and Ned knelt at the lass' side.

"What's wrong, Autumn?" asked Olo looking fearfully at Autumn's pale face.

"Will Elfred be okay?" said Ned, peering at Autumn's almost white face.

"He's dead. Those stupid beasts killed him," answered Autumn, her voice slightly shaking.

[ January 07, 2003: Message edited by: Galadel Vinorel ]

[piosenniel]

Carchmoroth and Dúgoroth watched as the smaller group went out to hunt the two-legged trackers in the Weather Hills. It had only been a small party of trackers, and Carchmoroth expected Dûrêl and her five Wolves to deal with them in a swift and deadly fashion.

The two remaining Wargs were going after the larger group of hunters. And with them would be fifteen Wolves. Down through the grasslands south of the North Downs they came, passing Deadman’s Dike and heading straight for Chetwood Forest. The foolish two-leggeds would try to track them from their last kill, ignorant that they were being tracked themselves.

From the dense cover of the trees, they watched as the group left Combe, gathering farmers along the way. On silent paws they traveled on both sides of the dirt road that lead from there to Archet.

Carchmoroth motioned for Dúrel to take eight of the Wolves and go on ahead, to where the small path to the east intersected the main road. Carchmoroth led his Wolves to the point of the angle where the two roads intersected, keeping them well under the covers of dense brush. Dúrel’s group was just across the widening of the road, diagonal to Carchmoroth’s group.

The hunting party, led by Gaddy, arrived at the crossroads. He called a halt to their march, wanting to give them a few last minute instructions. They gathered in a tight crowd about him, listening to him talk, their attention focused on his words.

With a low growl from Carchmoroth, the Wolves on both sides of the crossroads charged the group as if it were a herd of sheep. They ran in, heads low, biting and nipping at the legs of the people on the outside of the group, cutting them out from the herd to do them further damage.

Chaos reigned among the two-leggeds, caught by surprise. And several of them fell victim to the Wolves’ “attack and separate” maneuvers. Once the group was scattered and many in panic, the two Wargs emerged from the opposite sides of the road and began the killing in earnest.

They had no love for these creatures who had taken land from the pack, and they meant to kill as many as they might, if not all. Yellow eyes blazing in the filtered light of the forest, they charged them again and again, urging their Wolves on - to bite and slash and bring down as many as they could.

Soon the grim arena was filled with the cries of the dying and the injured, while the two leggeds rallied against the pack as best they could . . .

[ January 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Nariah was hot, bothered and truly fed up of being huffed at by farmers. They were coming back from the fourth farm on the list and werent even halfway down. Celeb and Fin were behind her (lovebirds!) which was doing approximately nothing for her mood.

"If one more person says "Listen here young lady", I will honestly..." She muttered to herself before stopping. Sounds were coming from over the ridge they were coming up....battle, screams..and howls!

Sprinting to the top if the ridge, Nariah looked down in horror at the scene below. Not time to just look though, need to think sharp, as shed heard Elfred say before.

Pulling her bow from her back she sighted along an arrow. Pull back, pull back...get exactly the right spot...She let fly and was rewarded by a yelp as the creature went down, with an arrow in its stomach. Taking another, she fired again, finishing off the wolf.

Gaddy was fighting nearby, cutting the throat of a wolf nearby.

"Gaddy...!" Nariah started to call, but didnt have time and decided it was easier to deal with it herself; she finished off the wolf about to leap at Gadddys unprotected back with the long knife she had taken from the pile. Gaddy turned back to her gratefully, and Nariah smiled briefly before grabbing Gaddy and pulling him down as another wolf soared growling over their heads. When it landed it turned more quickly than Nariah, swiping at the barmaid with a beclawed paw. Now, in the inn Nariah had learnt to deal with difficult customers who swiped at her, and this wolf was not going to be an exception. Slapping his nose scoldingly with the flat of her blade, she shouted at it randomly. The wolf backed away slightly, confused and with a slightly swelling nose. In its confusion Nariah swiped at it with her knife and by some strange fluke managed to hit it across the throat. Well, that was never the way Ive had to do that before...

Turning, she surveyed the confusion and bloodshed. Muttering slightly under her breath, she pressed her back against a tree and, taking out her bow, began to let rip with deadly accuracy into the melee...


[ January 08, 2003: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[ January 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Gimli the Dwarf]

Out of no where Bailen bounded out into the fray. He slashed at a wolfs throte Bailen then turned around noticing a wolf about to pounce on a boy. He leaped toward the wolf and slashed at the wolf with his axe. The wolf turned on bailen and growled and pounced. Bailen found himself knocked to the ground and the wolf on top of him. Bailen then at the last minute, just as the wolf was about to deliver the killing blow. Bailen struk the wolf with his walking axe. The boy from the inn pulled the dead wolf from bailen and nodded his thanks.
Bailen said,"follow me."
Bailen saw Gaddy fighting off a wolf at the other side of the field fighting a group of wolves. Bailen came within throwing distence and threw both his throwing axes at the leading wolf. Both hit thier targets but the lead wolf bit off them and snarled as he retreated the field.

[Sadbh]

Afton wiped her forhead with the back of her hand. The undergrowth was barely undergrowth at all in this part of the forest, and grew dense and heavy at the traveller's legs, all the way to their hips. For a good length they had been travelling through the thick and grasping brambles of a highly complicating bit of forest. Even Haurin, the eldest and most knowledgable of the three was utterly lost. A breathless young man stumbled up beside the elder two, nursing several soar scrathches on his face. "Haurin do... you even know... which direction... in what Bree lies?" Although his words came in panting, gappy chunks, he still managed to sound sacrcastic and tempermental.

"Olrin, be quiet." Haurin replied curtly, brow creases in frustration. They had taken a lost turn somehow, someplace. And the party had most likely already set forth from Bree. No matter. Haurin pulled himself roughly through bush and branch, the others following suite. Afton was on the brink of collapse, though she tried not to show it. She had tramped sturdily behind Haurin for many miles but was lagging. However, a strange set off sounds trained through the trees. Shouts, screams, barking and... a howl. "The party has found their quarry or the wargs have found theirs!" Gasping and tripping, the three ran through the growth.

"I hope that it is the prior but fear that it is the latter, Haurin." Afton gasped as she hauled her tired form over brush. Her fingers clutched a stich inside side, an with her free hand she unsheathed an old knife. Finally, they tumbled from the wasted 'shortcut' and into the clearing, too late. The predators had gone and one of the party lay pale as death. Afton caught her breath and shook her heads. Halflings. They had not done so bad, but one of their number lay dead.

"Late." Haurin muttered, disgusted with himself. How could they be so slow as to let such pass.

[the real findorfin]

As the wolves attacked the group disintigrated around him, but Fin and Celeb remained fast, moving together in a defensive posture. Fin drew his sword, his father's blade and as the nearest wolf turned on him, Fin gave him a deadly blow to the face. Slitting the side of his face smashed the wolf's mouth open and Fin lunged, piercing the brain through the top o the mouth. He had become calm and all trace of humour had gone, this was battle and concentration was what was needed, not raw strength.
"To me, Halflings, to me!" he cried, hoping to rally the force that was milling around. Bailin and Gaddy seemed to be coping but nevertheless, it was better to fight in a group than in isolated cells.
Celeb took a strike at a wold near her, but it darted away to the right. The wolves seemed to skirt the two more than before, going for the easier prey.
"To me!" Fin cried again.

[piosenniel]

The two Wargs drove the Wolves hard against the two-leggeds; the wolves responded in a frenzy. Biting, slashing, cutting the two leggeds off from their fellows, killing them.

Together Carchmoroth and Dúrel advanced into the fray, one challenging a 'hunter' from before, the other taking him from behind.

Now they faced the man and woman who called for the hunters to unite for their defense. 'To me Hobbits.' Carchmoroth heard the male call.

Carchmoroth feinted in toward the two, drawing their attention, staying well out of range of their biting blades. Dúrel flew from behind at the male, but the woman turned swiftly, dealing him a burning slash across his right flank.

The weight of the Warg's body bore down the male, snapping his left arm beneath him as he hit the ground. Mad with the pain from the sword cut, Dúrel stood up, over the male, intending to snap his neck with a bite from his massive jaws. Again the woman's blade slashed at him, sending him in retreat.

Carchmoroth, moving behind her as she swung, slashed her deeply with his teeth in the right calf. She fell with a scream of pain, beside the male . . .

The Warg moved on, satisfied that they would cause no more trouble, and went to find Dúrel.

Their next target was the Dwarf and his deadly axes. Dúrel, his blood now clotting along the ragged gash on his side, watched as the Dwarf threw out his two smaller axes, driving off one of the Wolves. Still he held that deadly walking axe with its sharp edges and its long reach.

The two Wargs circled the Dwarf and the boy which stood with him. Dúrel feinted in, and Carchmoroth ran swiftly against the duo, knocking them both flat. The boy scrambled to his feet and beat the Warg off with his thick, blackthorn walking stick, driving him with blows to the head, away from the fallen Dwarf . . .

'Come, Dúrel!' growled Carchmoroth. 'Leave these two. We need to bring down the one who leads this pack, and that one, over there, who is all too sure with her bow.' He motioned toward the woman who stood, back against a tree, firing her deadly arrows into the Wolves. They called to the pack, and five Wolves came at a run.

Three of them they sent against Gaddy. They ringed him, their terrible eyes fixed on his moving figure, lips curled back from their sharp, yellowed fangs. Two of them leaped at him, and he swung his blade in a mighty arc, knocking them away from their intended target. They landed stunned against the trunks of two trees at the edge of the road. The third Wolf, who had moved to the rear of the man, now charged him, sinking his teeth into the back of the man's left knee, bringing him down . . .

The woman with the bow, fired an arrow at the Wolf attacking Gaddy, killing him with a sure shot to the base of his skull.

Now she faced her own attackers, two Wargs and two Wolves, at very close range. Her arrows now were perilously low in number . . .

[ January 09, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

HELKAHOTHION'S post

Anuionin saw the Wolves charging the group and got filled with courage. Stupid courage, none the less, but courage. He felt that Hamfast was in danger.

"Stay close, Hamfast and keep your weapon ready to strike at any of these rats." Anuionin said.

He grew fond of the hobbit and the only way these creatures where going to get him was over his dead body.

The wolves started to circle and two came close to him. His hand was swift and secure and two axes flew trough the air striking at the wolves. They retreated and Anuionin let out a loud battle cry before rushing into the heat of battle.

Khâzad!!!!!!!

He ran over to tree wolves that where gathered near a tree. The wolves noticed the not so happy Dwarf and launched a counter attack. They jumped around him and attacked him.

The first wolf charged him from below and tried to bit him firmly in the leg. But the agile Dwarf made a leap next to the wolf. The wolf jumped to his throat but was badly surprised of the power in this little man. The stick of his axe knocked him back and the wolf fell on the ground. The axe waved with power and the wolf’s carcass fell on the ground. Screaming of pain it was unable to move: Anuionin slashed his legs off.

In the meanwhile the second wolf snuck up behind the Dwarf and attacked him. But the foolish creature made a leap too big. Anuionin ducked and the wolf landed in front of him with his back facing the Dwarf. By the surprise of Hamfast, Anuionin did not strike to kill, but used the flat side of his axe to spin the wolf around, facing him head on. The wolf, still dazzled from the spin, could not stand his ground and Anuionin split his skull, vertically.

"That will teach you to kill the sheep of my hometown, you disgusting rat!" he shouted at the dead wolf on the ground.

But this was an act of dumb pride and the last wolf leaped to his neck. Anuionin realized that he could not bring his axe up and blocked the bite with his arm. The wolf went trough his equipment and Anuionin lost his balance. The wolf was now on top of him and was still holding his
grip on his arm while scratching his chest, inflicting some serious wounds.

"This is it!" Anuionin thought. "This is the end!"

But suddenly a shiver went through the foul beast and it stopped moving. Anuionin threw the wolf off him and was gladly surprised. He saw Hamfast's sword sticking out of the wolf's head.

"You are truly a blessing from the sky dear Hobbit" Anuionin said.

And then he passed out because of his injuries. He could just hear a cry of victory coming from the fields.

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

[Galadel Vinorel]

When the fighting had begun, Gaddy had been surrounded by a ring of men and women, and now he was alone, surrounded by wolves. Swiftly swinging his sword, the hobbit cut two of the wolvews in their sides, knocking them away, but the one behind him bit deep into the back of his leg and the hobbit fell forward onto the ground.

Behind him Gaddy heard a thump and turned around to see the wolf that had attacked him lying dead with an arrow sticking out of him. Looking around, the lead hobbit could not see Nariah in the frenzy of battle, and so he turned his attehtion back to his attackers.

The two wolves were now circling him again, and each of them had a nasty cut on their side. They growled at Gaddy as he stood up, leaning heavily on his right, uninjured, leg. Suddenly one of the wolves leapt up, heading straight for Gaddy's right hand, so that he could knock his sword away and finish this battle. But Gaddy was too quick and he struck his sword right through the throat of the wolf as he ran up.

The wolf felt back, gasping for breath, then charged one more time. The male wolf lunged at Gaddy and was able to swipe his paw across the hobbit's stomach, causing a deep wound, before Gaddy thrust his sword right through the skull of the wolf. Now Gaddy faced his final attacker.

The wolf circled Gaddy one last time, then howled and leapt for the hobbit's throat. As he leapt, Gaddy pulled his knife from his side and flung it into one of the wolf's eyes. The wolf fell back, and then ran full speed at Gaddy's left leg, swiped it with his paw, and knocked the hobbit to the ground. Standing on top of him, the wolf bent down to snap the hobbit's neck, but Gaddy was ready for him. Quickly, the sheepraiser raised his right hand, still holding his sword, and cut the head of the wolf off.

Pushing the wolf off of him, Gaddy stood up as well as he could, and looked around him. Some people were lying dead in the road, while most everyone else had a wound of some sort.

Hearing yells from behind him, Gaddy turned to see a mob of farmers, many with burning branches in their hands, running up along the road. Gaddy smiled to himself; you could always trust farmers to help you when you needed them. As the farmers came running up, the wolves, under command of the wargs, drew away from their prey and formed a line blocking the farmers from the company....

[ January 09, 2003: Message edited by: Galadel Vinorel ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Nariah finished off another wolf at Gaddy's back with a sure shot, but it was getting harder. She hadnt been wounded too badly, mainly because most of her attackers were dead at twenty paces, but her arms ached and she could feel the wolves and wargs closing in around her...

It scared her how the wargs were so obviously intelligent. They seemed to communicate with each other, even more than just with howls. There was something deeper, like they actually talked...a disturbing thought, and one that Nariah neither wanted to dwell on, nor had time to.

She readied her bow as she saw a wolf nearby, then stopped. A long low growling was coming from the other side. Turning slowly, Nariah saw two wolves, two wargs, watching her. The girl drew her long knife as the first wolf leapt at her and once again she was hit by a strange feeling; they all jumoed at the same time...

[piosenniel]

They bore the archer down beneath the tree, the weight of their hurtling bodies crushing her beneath them.

Her long knife flashing, she had managed to stick the Wolf which reached her first. The dead weight of its body as she drove the knife in to the hilt threw her off balance, and she stumbled back against the tree, then crumpled beneath the onslaught of the others. Long, sharp fangs ripped her exposed arm, and she felt the hot, foul breath of the Warg against her neck.

As suddenly as it happened, it was done. The Wargs had called the Wolves from her, in answer to another danger. She lay under the dead body of the Wolf, her arm aflame with pain where the teeth had scored her - her head pounding from its hard contact with the tree as she fell . . .

[Amanaduial the archer]

Nariah gasped in pain as she lay under the wolf for a moment, her entire body aching, her arm pinpointing it. Blood was oozing through her fingers where she was had her hand pressed to the gash along her upper arm, where the wolf had ripped her sleeve as well as deep in her arm.

But only for a moment. Her head felt like oliphaunts were stampeding around in it, her arm was still flaming, but no way was she going to let those wargs and wolves get away. Especially the wargs; she still had that strange feeling there was some kind of control there and she didnt like it...

[the real findorfin]

Fin rose on one knee, clutching his sword in his right undamaged hand. His left arm hung limp by his side but he would worry about that later.

Celeb lay beside him, "are you OK?" he asked.
She nodded and grimaced.
"Stay there," he said, "you'll be fine."

As the farmers drew level with him, he rose up and joined them. Together they moved forward against the remaining wolves and wargs.
"We have them now!" Fin thought, triumphantly.

[piosenniel]

Only four Wolves were left of the pack that had come into Chetwood Forest. Four Wolves and the two Wargs. Carchmoroth had seen the flare of the torches that the men bore coming dangerously close to them. And he did not relish the thought of being pinned between them and the blades, arrows, and axes of the hunting party. He sent a short series of deep barks across the battlefield, gathering the Wolves in.

Between the two lines of foe they ran, through the underbrush, making for the northwestern border of the forest. To the place called Fornost, as Men called it. There to regroup with Dûrêl and the Wolves who remained with her.

Pushing hard they came to their lair among the rocky ledges at the southern end of the North Downs. Too tired to hunt, they rested, licking their wounds. Dûrêl did not return until well into the next day, and no Wolves were with her. Her side was bloodied and she limped from the blow to her haunch.

She lay down, exhausted from battle and loss of blood, near her brother, cradling her head on his flank. Day passed into evening. Carchmoroth and two of the less injured Wolves trotted silently down from the ledge, heading west. They would hunt, and then the pack would feed, and make their plans.

[Galadel Vinorel]

After the wolves and wargs had retreated the farmers had, under the direction of Gaddy, set up a camp for the injured and for the people who had fought in the battle. One tent was set up as a hospital and the healer of Archet came in and began to bandage people up. First he worked on the people badly injured; one of these people was Gaddy. The poor hobbit could not even walk any more without help of a walking stick and the skin on the back of his leg, by his knee, had been torn off so deep that you could see the bone. The scratches caused by one of the wolves on his stomach was not terribly bad, but they still had to be wrapped up so that they wouldn't get infected.

After being treated, Gaddy was brought a staff, which he used to walk around the camp and give orders. He first established a ring of gaurds around the camp, mostly farmers who could both shoot a bow and arrow and weild a sword. These men would roate with others who had come from all around Archet to help protect the camp. Next he ordered for fires to be built and dinner was started for the hungry warriors.

During the middle of Gaddy giving orders, he heard a shout go up near the edge of the camp, "The scouts are back! The scouts are back!" Quickly the hobbit hobbled over to where the shouts were coming from. There he found Autumn, Ned, Olo, and Nop standing looking extremly tired with a ring of farmers surrounding them.

As Gaddy stepped forward the ring parted to let him through, and Autumn looked up to face him. Her face was very pale and her right arm was completely covered in blood. "What happened, Autumn?" asked Gaddy worriedly.

"We were attacked by a warg and five wolves at the Weather Hills. We were all injured, and those beasts killed ELfred," answered Autumn, her voice slightly shaking.

"There was nothing that we could do for him, Gaddy, so we came back to report to you," said Olo standing forward.

"But what happened here? We saw dead bodies of wolves a little ways back and some hobbits and men as well," asked Ned, looking around.

"We were also attacked by wargs. I lost ten good farmers in the fight, and almost no one escaped without injuries. Come along you three, and you two, Nop. I can see that you are tired and hungry, and you also need to be treated for your wounds," said Gaddy, leading the way to the tent which served as a slight hospital for the injured. After the wounds of the three hobbits and the dog were treated by the healer they ate a very refreshing meal. During their meal they took turns recounting the story of the fight with the wolves and warg.

Gaddy was slightly shocked at how brave the hobbit had been and told them so. "You three are very brave; more than you look for sure. You fought a good battle by all accounts, and one worthy of song," said Gaddy, smiling one of his rare smiles. Then Gaddy raised his glass of ale and said, "To the memory of a good sheepraiser, wairor, and most importantly friend; to Elfred Thistle!" The three hobbits also raised their glasses, very glad indeed that they were alive.

[ January 11, 2003: Message edited by: Galadel Vinorel ]

[the real findorfin]

As the enemy ran off into the brush, Fin finally let his guard down and succumbed to the pain in his arm. He sheathed his sword and helped Celeb over to where the camp was being set up.

As his wounds were less bloody than many of the others, Fin had to wait for a long while but finally he was seen to. He emerged from the Healing tent, arm strapped to his side and moved over to where Gaddy and the other warriors were retelling thier stories.

He was shocked to here about the old hobbit Elfred and could see that many of the others were to. He sat and took a bowl of the sew they were eating, wondering where it had come from and who had cooked it.

"We have done well, my friends, but I don't think that we have vanquished them yet. Some remain, and they will return."

[ January 11, 2003: Message edited by: the real findorfin ]

[Helkahothion]

As the battle was over, Hamfast helped Anuionin over to the healer's tent. Anuionin passed out again and woke up later to find himself in a white tent with a lady bowed over him to see if he was alright.

"Am I dead?" Anuionin asked.

The girl laughed and went on to see other patients. He walked out and saw a gathering of people that he knew.

"We have done well, my friends, but I don't think that we have vanquished them yet. Some remain, and they will return." Fin said.

"I think I little overdid it if you know what I mean Fin." Anuionin laughed.

"But I think your right. They are still not all gone. I saw that Warg leader. I shurly wish the stick a blade in his skull. But I don't fear them. I wish they would be back so I can avenge my arm." He continued on a more serious tone.

Anuionin went of in staid away a little. It was beginning to get a little dark and Hamfast got worried. He went of to search the Dwarf. He found him crawling on the ground on his hands and knees. Hamfast wanted to call him, but the Dwarf screamed happaly and rushed to a nearby stick in the field. Than Hamfast realized what he was doing: He was looking for his trowing axes.

"These things are bloody hard to find when it's dark." Anuionin said.

Hamfast laughed and together the two went back to the camp.
________
Yamaha Xv250 Specifications

[Olo Gamwich]

Olo was quite grateful that both parties had met up again. His arm had been treated and Autumn and Ned seemed to be on the mend as well. But the death of Elfred had struck right at the heart of the group's endurance. It had been most unpleasant and clearly painful. The sight of his bloody, crumpled body would not leave Olo's mind. The weary hobbit suddenly turned and vomitted on the ground. He fell back and...and his mind began to...wander...

[Amanaduial the archer]

Nariah sat on the grass on a a hill a small way from where the group were celebrating. She was no longer crying, but her cheeks were still wet from her silent weeping. Elfred was gone.
She lay back on the grass, staring up at the stars above her. Was the old hobbit one of them now? How could he be gone? How?
Nariah sighed. She had already been angry at the rest for celebrating, but she knew they were doing it to try and expell the thoughts of what would inevitably happen later....
She stared at the stars before closing her eyes and trying not to think either. Not to think of anything....
A sound nearby of someone releasing their last meal the way it had gone in made her open them again.
"Hello Olo."
Olo looked a little sheepish as he wiped his mouth. He came over, sitting beside Nariah.
"Elfred was-" He started, before stopping. He looked like he was about to say something else but replaced it with a sigh and just stared at the stars, eventually closing his eyes and thinking his own thoughts, like Nariah.

[ January 12, 2003: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[Helkahothion]

Just as Nariah turned around and went away she heard a voice behind her.

"You really liked Elfred huh? I know it's hard to loose a friend to those beasts. I lost my brother in that way."Anuionin said.

"Really?" Nariah asked surprized by the dwarf standing behind her.

"Ohw yes, my brother was killed when he was protecting me from two wolves. I ran and was save. But my brother was not to be found. Only a dead wolve."

Anuionin sighted and looked into emptyness for a while. Then he smiled and turned to Nariah.

"Come, let's go back. You have avenged the death of your beloved." He said to Nariah.

"I myself never will." He added softly.

[ January 13, 2003: Message edited by: Helkahothion ]
________
TOYOTA TACOMA HISTORY

[Garen LiLorian]

Ned's shoulder hurt abominably, and he was so covered with scratches from head to foot he looked like an escaped art project. But none of this really mattered, in his mind. He remembered all too well the feeling of the fight, of being held helpless under the weight of the wolf and of Elfred's corpse. He remembered trying to help Autumn and failing, staring directly into the yellow eyes of the Warg and knowing, just knowing that he had failed. It was the worst feeling of his life, and one that he expected wouldn't leave him alone for a good long while.

He spent the rest of the day in shock, moving mechanically when told to, responding to queries with short, brusque answers. At some point, he couldn't remember when, someone had put his arm into a sling. He skipped the congratulatory dinner, preferring instead solitude and the night sky. He thought about Elfred. How the old shepherd had encouraged him, spoke to him, even scolded and (on occasion) beat him seemed like pleasant memories.

He drew his sword awkwardly, and looked at the blade, glinting in the light thrown down by the Moon. Such a simple thing. He was filled with self-loathing then, thinking; 'Some hero you are. I suppose now it's back to the Pony, to recount your bravery to all the farmers? Why, it took all you had to drive off a single wolf, and when your friends needed you, where were you? Sitting helpless. That's where. Had to be rescued yourself. Elfred's death is your fault.' The thought was so horrible he had to think it twice. 'Your fault.' He knew intellectually that this was untrue, but that hardly mattered. Tears began to stream down his face, unnoticed. They splattered on the sword blade. "It is strange," he said softly, his voice shaking, "that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over such a little thing. Just a sword."

He knew then, what to do. He was no hero, no Bandobras the Bullroarer, to destroy Goblin kings with a single blow. He cocked his arm, ready to throw the hated blade into the bush and be done with it, when he heard footsteps.

"I wondered what had become of you, Ned. Seems the bushes are a popular place tonight. Nariah and Anuionin are over there..." Autumn trailed off as she saw his tears. "Oh, I'm so sorry. It was a bad joke."

[Amanaduial the archer]

"I wondered what had become of you, Ned. Seems the bushes are a popular place tonight. Nariah and Anuionin are over there...Oh sorry, it was a bad joke."

Nariah smiled as she walked over with Anuinion who had gone a deep shade of red. She decided to make light of the situation; Ned frankly looked like he was about to cry. "I heard that Autumn!" She said, putting her hands on her hips in a mock serious gesture. Then she turned to Ned, speaking behind her hand as if to only him. "But Ned, Ive always loved a man with hairy feet..."

She recieved smiles, even a rather shakey one from Ned.

[ January 16, 2003: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[Galadel Vinorel]

Autumn smiled at Nariah and looked sadly over at Ned, who was looking out, with tears in his eyes, towards the trees of Chetwood Forest not far away. A memory from the battle flashed through the lass' mind, and she tried to shake the horrible image away; it was an image of Ned lying in the grass, his face very pale. Blood covered his left arm, and, not far from him, stood the wolf had just tried to attack Autumn. Looking over at Ned, the hobbit wondered if Ned was thinking of the battle as well.

Crossing over to the lad, Autumn stood next to him and whispered in his ear, "What's wrong, Ned? Do you want to talk?"

Ned turned towards Autumn and looked sadly into his face. A tear dripped down his face and then fell onto the grass. "Was Elfred's death my fault, Autumn?" Ned asked, his voice shaking, "I just know it was. If I wasn't such a weak and braveless hobbit then he would still be alive."

Autumn stared surprised at the hobbit lad, and then put her arm (left one) around his shoulder, and smiled at him. "It wasn't your fault whatsoever, Ned. Don't ever think that. You are one of the bravest people that I know. You jumped right in front of that wolf without hesitation to try and stop it from attacking me, even when you were hurt yourself. Only the wargs and wolves are to blame for Elfred's death. Not you, Olo, Nop, or me are to blame. Don't ever think that, Ned. Ok?" said Autumn staring into the sad face of Ned.

[Durelin]

Hamfast was burning, sweat trickled down his forhead, stinging his eyes. He still had not gotten over the heat of battle, though he had done little, the hobbit had gotten his first taste of the confusion and bloodlust of battle. And it seemed he had bitten off more than he could chew, whether he had wanted to or not.

He was still amazed at Anuionin's skillful brutality, and the rest of his companions. He felt like a useless lump of flesh, just dead wait that had to be dragged along by them. You will learn, a voice in the back of his mind told him You will learn to pull your own weight. Look at your sword. Hamfast immediately obeyed looking down at the short blade still in his hand. He had not even noticed it was still there It's getting lighter. He noticed he had stopped sweating, and he felt a wave of calm confidence come over him. It was over for now, next time he would be ready.

He saw his friend emerge from the tent with a grin on his face watching the hapless hobbit. "Thank goodness your all right!" he called as he ran to the dwarf, "Will we be moving on?" he asked Anuionin as he stepped to walk next to him, "Or are we going to have a rest?"

"Yes, I am all right thanks to you! So eager you seem, Master Hamfast," he replied. "Only a minutes earlier you would have been shaking in terror at the thought! Have you found something in you you did not know about? I remember my first time, in battle I mean, yes, quite clearly, you are doing as excellent as any dwarf ever could! Hamfast, do not worry about next time, you will do even better."

Hamfast was silent, he was glad to hear Anuionin's support but he it was hard to hear someone else talk about next time.

Suddenly he jumped in the middle of his thoughts Yes, I am all right thanks to you. that was what his friend had said, Thanks to me? The hobbit noticed a strange sweet smell in the air, a sweet, but sickening smell, coming from... Hamfast looked down at his blade, he still hadn't sheathed it. Blood! There is blood on my sword! My sword! He stopped to stare at the dwarf. Memory came swirling back. Of course, I...I...killed it! I saved...his life! I... The hobbit began to laugh, a long clear laugh. His friend joined him, it seemed like ages since he had last laughed.

"So, did I really kill it? Really? I did?"

"Of course you did, you didn't remember did you? That is normal, do not worry. You're going to be a fine 'hobbit warrior', Hamfast! A guardian of the Shire!" Anuionin chuckled. A guardian of the Shire! A title! Hamfast began to chuckle also at this thought. He had saved his friend's life, that was what mattered, not titles and heroics.

"Continue to watch my back will you Hamfast?" the dwarf said cheerfully. Of course I will. "And you watch mine!" he answered wiping the blood off his sword. He watched the sunlight dance along the silver blade. He was worthy enough to wear it after all.

[ January 20, 2003: Message edited by: Durelin ]

[piosenniel]

Carchmoroth counted heads once they retreated to their lair. He and Dúgoroth were whole, only minor bruisings. They would be sore for a few days only. Dûrêl was the one who had sustained a major wound. Her left flank was gashed, and blood still trickled from it when she moved. Of the Wolves, there were seven left, and they were sore and beaten. Nothing though that would not heal quickly.

Leaving Dûrêl at the lair to rest, he took Dúgoroth and the seven with him to hunt. They needed food and time to heal. Then they would return, and this time their prey would be the two-leggeds.

*****

The scent of the deer was strong on the air. The pack flanked them and cut two stragglers from the herd. Swiftly were they brought down, and swiftly killed. They took their fill on the killing ground then took a large haunch back to Dûrêl. Once she was healed, they would hunt the others . . .

[Garen LiLorian]

Ned sniffled pathetically, but nodded. He knew he wasn't to blame, really, but the thought just kept recurring to him that if he had known what he was doing, like Autumn had, Elfred might still be alive. Autumn. His mind flashed back to the frenzied battle scene. It had looked bad; Olo and Elfred down, Ned helpless before the beast, leaving only the brave hobbit-lass to deal with two wolves and the Warg. She had made it looks so easy. Graceful, even.

Ned's resolve firmed at the same rate as his voice. It was foolish of him to have pretended to be a hero, to wander through the wilderness like one of the famous Rangers. For the first time, Ned could see in his mind's eye how battered and miserable the Men looked, how pathetically pleased they were to have a roof over their heads for a night, and a dinner they didn't have to catch themselves. Adventure. he thought, (and was far from being the first to do so) Weeks of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror, rather.

"Autumn?" Ned hated how quavery his voice sounded, but there was very little he could do about it. "Do you think..." He gulped.

Her voice, when it came, was gentle. "Yes?"

"Erm. Well, that is to say... do you think maybe sometime, if you aren't too busy, that you could maybe... Uh, teach me?"

She looked confused for a moment, then began to laugh. Nariah, still standing nearby started in as well, and both of them laughed and laughed, sinking to the ground in shared merryment. Truly, the Hobbit's spirit was indomitable; only moments before he had been weeping, now, somehow, his thoughts had already left the horrible events of the day, and he was already thinking about swordplay! After a moment Ned began to chuckle himself, more out of commiseration than mirth.

"Oh, oh," Autumn managed between spurts, "Of course I'll teach you..." She couldn't contain herself then, and laughed helplessly, holding her ribs.

Perhaps it was more than the feeble joke which Ned had offered. Certainly there seems to be that in the human (and Hobbit) spirit which objects to scenes of war and strife, of battle and bloodshed and evil. Perhaps this bout of merriment was brought on by this indescribable impulse, as a balancing between good and evil, a laughter which lightens the spirit and diminishes the horrible events which the folk, both big and little, had endured that day to a bearable level. In any case, Ned too soon began to laugh helplessly, and found he could not stop.
The laughter of the three friends sounded in the night, defying the horrible events of the day.

=============================================

It was the next morning, and Ned was tired, miserable and feeling that his request of the night before had been somewhat ill-concieved. He had been roistered out of bed at an ungodly hour by Autumn, who had been smiling what Ned was sure was the most evil smile ever seen this side of Mordor. She had taken him to a field, and equipped him with a large, heavy stick. Then the beatings had commenced.

At the moment Ned was lying on his back, feeling very restful and admiring the patterns the flashing lights and colors were making. He heard a voice from far off. "Oh dear. Ned, you really have to work on that overhand parry." He focused on the voice, and his vision slowly swam back into focus.

"Ouch," He said. His fingers encountered strange protuberance on his forehead, where he was pretty sure there hadn't been one before. He was conscious of another sound, a sort of chuffing. It was the sound of a Dwarf laughing. Unceremoniously, he was hauled to his feet, where he stood blinking confusedly. Autumn was standing in front of him, the stick held in her left hand was resting on the ground and a worried expression was on her face.

"Are you all right?"

Ned didn't rightly know how to answer that. He didn't hurt, yet, although he was pretty sure that wouldn't last. He nodded, rather unsteadily.

"That's m'boy!" Shouted a loud voice right in Ned's ear, and a hand came down on Ned's back with the force of a mining sledgehammer, nearly knocking him down the other way. "We'll make a swordsman of you yet, young Hobbit!" Anuionin also looked far to cheery for the hour, but then again, Dwarves have strange senses of humour, and watching Ned being knocked around a field with a large stick seemed to fit the bill, at least for this Dwarf.

Ned shook his head, trying to dislodge some of the cobwebs, then rather reluctantly assumed a defensive posture. "I'm Ok. Come on, let's get this over with."

Autumn advanced again, her stick held before her like a rapier. Because of her wound, she was forced to use a smaller weapon than normal, but this made her no less dangerous to a untutored character like Ned. Ned also was forced to use only one hand on his "blade," but, unlike Autumn, it certainly seemed to make a difference in his fighting.

"One!" Autumn yelled, then swung down. Ned parried. "Four!" Ned made a hanging parry that just managed to keep her stick from his stomach. "Two!" Left. "Three!" Right. He grinned. He was getting the hang of this!

[*Anuion*]

Anuionin had heard the cheerfull laughter and later on he asked Nariah what it was all about.

"Well Autumn is going to teach Ned to sword fight."

Anuionin smiled. He just had to see this. He always loved those little Hobbit's. He was sertain that Autumn was going to start at an early hour.

"Oh well, you win some you lose some."

It was still early when Anuionin went over to the field. It was going to be one of the most funniest mornings.

[Garen LiLorian]

It was a sorry sight that greeted Tom Leafthistle that morning. The ragged band of would-be heroes stumbled back into Bree, footsore, wounded and pleased merely to be alive. Several faces were missing from among the group, too. He wrung his hands in consternation. "Gaddy?" He called out, searching vainly the faces for one he recognized, "Elfred? Nariah, lass, are you here?"

Gaddy moved forward out of the pack of farmers and other motley characters. His face was white and he was limping badly, but he was alive. Tom sighed in relief. "What happened? Oh, never mind about all that." He lifted his voice to reach the entire group. "Come with me, all of you. Pints to the returning heroes at the Pony, on me!" There was a ragged cheer at this, but not nearly as much of one as the jovial Mayor expected.

=============================================

The Prancing Pony was filled with light and warmth, two things the weary heroes needed. Most of the band sat round the fire, too exhausted for conversation and cradling mugs of cider, but Gaddy and Tom claimed a table in a corner, and spoke of events. Gaddy had related the events of the previous day, and now the two of them were arguing.

"Nonsense," Tom boomed, his face an even more vibrant shade of red than usual. He slurped noisily at his fourth pint. "They must be halfway to the Misty Mountains by now, after the thrashing you gave 'em. You're heroesh, I tell you! Heroesh is what you are."

"Don't be a fool, Tom," Gaddy hissed. The two characters painted a sharp contrast in the firelight, the large fat Man red with drink and good health, while the small figure of the Hobbit was drawn and pale from his wounds. "There must have been eight or ten wolves left from that battle. These aren't normal wolves, Tom. These are Wargs, demons in wolf-form from high in the mountains. They won't be satisfied until we're dead."

"Jumping at shadows, my dear hobbit. You're jumping at shadows. Ish Ok. I'd be shcared too..." The big Man blinked and tried to remember what he'd been saying. "WherewashI?" He asked plaintively.

Gaddy sighed. Tom was a good enough sort, as the Big Folk went, he thought. But why did he have to get like this all the time?

"You were saying, Tom, that you're going to send out some farmers to search the area for signs of the animals."

"I wah?" Tom looked confused. "Oh. Right. Barli!" He shouted full into Gaddy's face, and the stoic hobbit winced as the intoxicated human's breath washed over him. Barliman straightened up from where he'd been fussing over Nariah with the instincts of a mother hen, and gave Tom a withering glare before trotting over obediently. Tom made a vague gesture in the air. "Roundup a few of those... wossnames. Dark, thingy, Rangers. Tell 'em to shearch around for, you know, thingy, doggies, mean..." He blinked owlishly. "Wolves," Gaddy prompted. "Yeah. Like he shaish." The inebrieated human waved a hand in the general direction of Gaddy before collapsing on the table.

Barliman Butterbur straightened up. "Maybe you'd better be telling your story to Old Mugwort," he said. "He'll be in and about Bree-village this time of day. Ho! Nob, you wool-pated numbskull! Nob!" The much put upon serving hobbit appeared in a flash. "Fetch Bob. Tell 'em to run out and bring old master Mugwort, with my compliments." Nob disappeared as quickly as he had come.

"No doubt, master Furbarrow, but old Tom here will be wanting to give you and yours a party before the week is out. Not every day something like this happens in Bree. Why, I can't remember..." Gaddy sat still as the garrolous innkeeper's monologue flowed over him. A party? Why? Didn't any of these people recognize the danger? Gaddy hoped Mr. Mugwort would be a better ear.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The patriarch of the Mugwort family had proved most accomodating. Farmers and experienced folk of all ages had taken up combing the hills for any sign of the murderous wolves, but it had been to no effect. 'Maybe they really have gone back to wherever they came from,' was the thought on every persons mind at one time or another, even Gaddy. A day passed, then two. The faces of the heroes began to show life and energy again. Wounds, both physical and psychological, were healing over. Ned continued his sword lessons with Autumn.

All of Bree was in an uproar over the celebration to be thrown for these heroes. A party of special magnificence, to be presided over by the Mayor himself, was to be thrown for the brave band, with presents for all and sundry. All the town was invited, and most of the outlying villages of Archet and Combe as well. Tom strutted around the the village, red as a turkey cock, puffed up with self importance. Only Gaddy still harboured doubts, but those were fading fast with the continued reports of "nothing to report" he recieved from the scouts. The party was to be this evening...

[ January 26, 2003: Message edited by: Garen LiLorian ]

[*Anuion*]

The morning they arrived, everything was sad. The light was barely pooring trough the village and the feet of Anuionin where not adding to the joy either. As they went in the mayor was waiting for them. He shouted some names, but Anuionin paid no attention. All he wanted was a nice warm bed a meal and a drink. And lot's of that last part. He sharpend his ear as the mayor spoke to them.

"Come with me, all of you. Pints to the returning heroes at the Pony, on me!" The mayor said.

Anuionin cried out happely and his mood got better.

"You see little Hobbit. You are a hero now. Arren't you glad that you made it now?" Anuionin said to Hamfast.

They went in and Anuionin got a lot of sleep that day. Unnatural for a Dwarf.

Later, when he went downstairs, the room was filled with his companion's. He searched the room for Hamfast and encountered him by the fire. He sat down next to the Hobbit. He had grown fond of him. When he sat there, the firsth encounter between the two came up in his mind. He remember him coming in late and how much he laughed about the guy. A smile came upon his face. He took out his pipe and litted it. He trew his feet on the table and smoked his pipe. For the firsth time in a long stretch of time. He felt peaceful.

[piosenniel]

Dûrêl’s strength had come back. Her wounds were healing, and she had been able to eat well since the pack had hunted.

Seven new wolves had joined them since the previous attack. They were strong and eager to try their strength against the hated two-leggeds. Carchmoroth bade them be patient. Their chance for revenge would come soon . . .

[ January 26, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

The evening of the party, and numerous little lanterns had been hung here and there from branches of the trees, unlit as yet, the westering sun had not yet sunk low enough to warrant that. The evening was mild, no chilly winds from the north stirred the grasses on the greensward. In the town square, the podium had been festooned with flowers and ribbons, and the small town band stood listening patiently to the last hurried instructions from the bandmaster.

To the side of the podium, like a lovely ship come into harbor from a prosperous trip, a large table with a crisp white table cloth was set up, and piled high with gifts wrapped in festive papers, tied up with silvered ribbons. There were plaques, too. One large one to be hung in the Inn commemorating all the heroes, alive still and those fallen. Individuals would also receive smaller ones with an appreciative verse on it, and their name inscribed.

Mayor Woolman sat in the shade of a tree watching the last minute touches go up for the ceremony honoring those brave heroes who had driven the Warg menace from Bree-land. A few last rows of chairs and benches and all would be in readiness. He sipped a small mug of ale, just something to wet his throat, dry as usual, from practicing the long-winded and flowery speech he was to give.

‘Yes,’ he thought, smiling broadly as the crowd began to gather. ‘This would be a great day in Bree-land.’ And the start of a long series of days, he hoped, for the continued peace and prosperity of all this area.

[Helkahothion]

Anuionin smiled as he walked over to the party. He had been waiting for it all day. He went over jumping up and letting out smal cheer's like a child on his birthday. He had polished his weapon's extra good for this special occasion so they would look in tip top shape. (That and he needed something to kill time with)

When he saw the festiveties he could not believe his eyes. The stage was larghe and the table even largher. The food looked delicious and the guests where happy. Just the way he liked it. He scouted for his buddy and soon found him. He joined Hamfast and was happely surprized to be meeting his wife and children.

"Well you do have a good reason to be late old man." Anuionin said to Hamfast.

His wife asked him what that was about, but Hamfast just answered with:

"Nothing dear. Just a little joke between Anuionin and me."

Anuionin talked with Hamfast and his wife and was not eager to tell the story about the battle again. He especialy paid a lot of atention to the part where Hamfast saved him since his children where listening along.

"Wow daddy, you really saved that guy. That is so brave." One of his children said amazed.

"Mwoah, I just killed a wolf no big deal." Hamfast said.

The little Hobbit began to turn red and his wife looked at him with a intence look of love in her eye's: They really loved eichother.

Anuionin talked to some other's that had been with him trough out the experience.

It was the best time he had in Bree for years.

[ January 30, 2003: Message edited by: Helkahothion ]
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MERCEDES-BENZ W221 SPECIFICATIONS

[piosenniel]

The sun had sunk below the horizon, and the last notes of the special ‘Heroes of Bree-Land’ suite were fading as the Mayor approached the podium. He could see the audience squirm on their benches, wondering how long he was going to talk. He raised his hand to them, and smiled. ‘This won’t be a long speech.’ he said, watching the smiles light up their faces, and their eyes drift to the tables laden with food and drink.

He called each of the participants to the small stage and gave them a plaque bearing words of gratitude from Bree-land for their effort in driving out the Wargs and Wolves. They all stood in a group as he called the next one up, and once done, he gave a short speech on the brave spirits who had surrendered their lives in the defense of Bree-land. A large commemorative plaque was held up by two strapping farm lads. It was to be placed on a memorial on the side of Bree-hill, that everyone would see as they passed down the Great East Road. Finally, he pointed to the table piled high with presents from the grateful citizenry, directing the heroes to pick out the ones with their names on them.

He bowed toward the group and they nodded their heads to him and proceeded toward the table. The audience clapped for them, and whistled, then went to the tables to enjoy the feast provided. Music swelled up into the festive night air as the conductor wielded his baton once again.

All were in the mood to enjoy the party thoroughly.

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

Visitors, quite uninvited, had also come to the party. Just on the outer perimeter of the stand of trees to the north of the party site, hidden in the shadows cast by the trunks and branches, were the three Wargs, and with them, ten large Wolves. Thirteen pairs of yellow eyes caught the moonlight and glinted beneath the trees as they moved in closer to the two-leggeds.

The loathsome two-leggeds were relaxed, laughing and drinking and stuffing their faces with food.

The great beasts moved in closer; the silent padding of their feet on the undergrowth almost in beat to the quick dance music the band now played.
With a motion of his head, Carchmoroth bade them spread out. Then, just as the music ended, and people turned toward the band to clap, he growled low.

Like a grey torrent from an unleashed dam, the Wargs and Wolves poured out in a swift and deadly deluge upon the unsuspecting partiers. And the dance floor ran red as the beasts began their slaughter . . .

[Helkahothion]

Anuionin was dancing with own of Hamfast's children. He had a great time. He had laid his old one-handed axe on the gift table and had equipped the new one. It was beautiful. Made by one of the Breelanders, it had writing in the blade and the stick was made of proper, decent and very strong wood. It was light to handle non the less. As the music stopped Anuionin could hear a little growl coming from out of the crowd. But it was not in the crowd. It was past it. Suddenly, the people divided and the Dwarf saw what he had feared when returning. The rat's where not all dead yet.

"The children, Hamfast, I must protect them." He taught suddenly.

Thoughts rushed throughout his mind. What would he do? Protect or attack? He chose for the second one. Offence is the best defence, as he tended to say.

He grabbed out his throwing axes. And he rushed into the slaughter field that was already filled with corpses of the poor surprised Breelanders.

"KH?ZAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He yelled as he rushed towards the foul beasts.

He threw one of the axes at a wolf and it struck the beast right in the head. The second one landed in a flank. He knew that his large two-handed axe would do nothing to these agile rats. He yanked out the newly acquired axe and grabbed his other one from the table.

"Let's see what this toy can do." He said to himself.

He ran into the battlefield and one of the wolves charged him head on. He had his axe still in his body when he leaped to Anuionin. He would not get far. Anuionin struck him in the head. The head of the wolf was half of when it struck the ground. With a second blow he killed him. He grabbed out the throwing axe that was sticking out of his flank.

"Let's see if your friends also know how to play fetch." he said to the wolf.

He raised his arm and again the axe flew trough the air. It struck a wolf on the backside this time. He ran over there and gave it an immense slash in the back. That wolf would not be moving again. But then tree of the wolves came running to the Dwarf and started to circle him. Anuionin could not take on out with his axe, because if he reached for it the wolves would surely leap to his throat. He just waited for them to attack. The first one started the offensive and he reached for his leg. Stupid of course, because the toughest and strongest part of a Dwarfs body are his leg's. Anuionin raised his foot and planted it on the wolf's head. It struggled to get loose, but it's attempts where infane. Anuionin's newly acquired axe struck him in the neck, causing his nerve system to break. Its last struggle to survive looked hideous and the wolves got mad.

The second one leaped. To his neck this time. Anuionin ducked and the wolf flew over him. With a quick back-slash he ripped his stomach open. Anuionin turned around and cutted the back open aswel. Another wolf corps.

The third one had not been resting while Anuionin was chopping wolf-lumber. He had stopped running and now had Anuionin's back in sight. It was about to leap at the Dwarf when a stinging pain entered his back.

"Quickly Master Dwarf, turn around!" A child's voice said.

Anuionin made a quick turn and slashed the wolf's head of with one blow.
He was amazed to see that it was no man that had struck the wolf in the back. It was a child. Hamfast's child.
Quickly Anuionin lifted it from the ground and took it back to his father. But his father was nowhere in sight. He could only find his mother.

"I found this brave little fellow running around in the field M'lady. Can you take it from here?" Anuionin said friendly with a happy undertone.

The lady nodded and Anuionin rushed back in battle. He went out to search Hamfast. Where was the little fellow? He could not find him anywhere. He ran around screaming his name when he finally found him. He was leaning against a tree. Blood was leaking out of his arm. He had blood on his sword and a dead wolf lay next to him. But he was in trouble. Another wolf was standing in front of him. It was going to kill that poor fellow. Anuionin could not let this happen. He took a knife of the table and threw with full power at the beast. It did not hit him tough. It was planted between the wolf's legs, but caught his attention all the same. The wolf turned around and ran towards Anuionin. Anuionin had grabbed his two-handed axe of the table and was standing there very secure with his leg's spread and his hand's firmly holding the stick. The wolf leaped and Anuionin let out all of his anger. With a loud roar he took a swing at the Wolf. He struck the wolf head on. The strike was so hard that the wolf was cutted in two peaces. Hamfast could not believe his eyes. Anuionin rushed towards Hamfast.

"You did not seriously think that I would go easy on that rat when he has attacked you my friend." Anuionin said happily. "Let's get you out of here."

He took the Hobbit on his back and walked out of the battle.

His arm was avenged.
________
Ticketmaster gift cards

[Amanaduial the archer]

Nariah had been standing near a table as the wolves and wargs attacked. She ducked as one flew over her head, landing on the table and knocking over a cask of red wine. The dark liquid spread over the white table cloth, red as blood...

"Woah!" She moved sharply to the side as the wold on the table gathered itself and started to turn clumsily. Grabbing a bread knife off the table without really registering it. The wolf crouched in front of her and began its jump-

-before landing with a still crumb coated knife in its chest. Suddenly remembering to breathe Nariah stared at it for a moment before pulling the knife from its chest and going into action mode. She looked around, scanning the chaos filled area. Wolves were surrounding Fin and Celeb, and now one was crouched near them, its jaws wide as it prepared to leap-

Another wolf leapt at Nariah. With a wild yell, the barmaid flung the knife threw the air before it lodged itself rather satisfyingly in the creatures skull.

Running beside the trestle tables she ducked under the table, pulling the blanket off her bow and quiver; she had left them there, not wanting to miss any of the party. She grinned wryly as she picked up her bow, staring at it for a moment; luck was too weak for this! She winced as she heard something splinter and crash outside and ducked under the table cloth. Vaulting onto one of the long tables the archer took aim and began to fire into the chaos.

[ January 30, 2003: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]