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[Amanaduial the archer]

As Anuion fitted his arrow into his bow and in a second the arrow shot out into Jerika's wrist it seemed. He winced but caught her eye and just stopped himself smiling; the arrow had only just nicked her skin, but mainly it was in her sleeve and there was enough blood to cover up for that fact and in that split second she fell back screaming, as if it truly had pierced her wrist.

Kane didnt dash forward to kneel beside her, the mistake he made last time, for he was in a good position this time; right behind one of the elves. The elf had a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other and his back was facing Kanes hiding place. Kane covered the distance between them in a few quick paces, and the other elves, gathered around Jerika and the elf now dusting himself off, didnt notice until it was too late. Kane twisted the hand holding the sword, making it fall to the ground, and hit the other hand hard with the hard pommel of his sword, making the elf drop the dagger. Kanes sword came up, placed horizontally across the elf, Melcildir's, throat, forcing his chin upwards so he wasnt in any position at all the make any move. The other elves spun around, including Anuion, bow still held at the ready, another arrow fitted.

"Drop the bow Anuion." He said, quietly and cooly. The elf glared at him, frustrated and angry at being caught out. Kane pressed the sword onto Melcildirs neck a little harder, but not so it drew blood; the elf was quite young, he thought, although he knew well that their appearances could be decieving. "I said drop it Anuion." His voice was a little louder this time, but still alot calmer than he felt.

One of the other elves said something to Anuion and after a moment her lowered his bow. Kane smiled slightly. "You lot as well. Bows and swords."

The elves looked afronted and Kane was really getting fed up but, slowly, they started to drop their weapons before....

"No, I think it is you who will drop your weapon, easterling." A triumphant voice. Kane looked to where the voice came from and cursed silently as he saw what had happened; Jerika was in the hold of another elf. He glared at the elf, whose dagger was at Jerikas throat, but only slid his eyes, slowly and deliberately to where he held his sword in place.

"Ah. Stalemate I think."

[the real findorfin]

As the confrontation insued, Findorak swore.
Damn them, they couldn't just walk away could they!
After a few moments of indecision, he swore again and began to crawl toward the cave entrance. After some close inspection of the corpses, he found a crude orc bow and several black-feathered arrows. He proceeded to crawl as close as he could to the fray, whlist remaining in a high position and when Kane had the elf at his mercy, Findorak had gained his vantage point.
Now to wait he thought. He would not give his position away unles things went wrong. he did not want to find himself alone, against the elven party.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Great.

The elf’s left arm was wound tightly around Jerika while the other was holding a dagger really close to her neck. Jerika tried to work out a plan to get out of this, and as the thoughts raced through her mind, all she could hear was someone talking about a stalemate.

They were dead even. Supposedly, neither could win something from this. Unless…

Jerika could sacrifice herself. That would be leaving Kane though, for none of their kind had survived the cave. What would she do then? Giving up would be a fair choice for many in her position, but Jerika would not meet death until the day came when she couldn’t avoid it.

No, I’m not done yet. I’m not going quietly into the night. Not today, at least. One last try. I'm not letting go this easily.

Though Jerika’s good left hand was guarded by the elf’s strong arm, her bloody right arm was hanging limp at her side. Looking up, Jerika caught Kane’s stare. Winking slightly, Jerika hoped he got the message that she still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

Gathering all the strength she could, Jerika lifted up her throbbing right arm with difficulty. She lifted it so slowly, that she wasn’t even sure if anyone noticed. Taking a deep breath, Jerika took a split second to realize what she was risking. This could be the last move she made. This could be the end of Kane as well, and it would mean total victory for the Elves. The two Easterlings were all that stood between the Elves and their victory.

With every ounce of strength, Jerika brought the elbow of her twitching, bloody arm flying into the Elf’s stomach. It was strong enough to send him doubling over. As he went to stand straight again, Jerika wound her arm around his neck.

“Okay, this will hurt me as much as it does you, I’m sure,” Jerika mumbled, though she wasn’t sure if anyone heard. Bringing her arm and shoulder down, she flipped the Elf over and he did a sort of somersault in the air. Landing on his back, the Elf did not have time to do anything in reaction. Jerika knelt down beside the elf, and kept her elbow a few inches away from his face. If he intended to get up, he was also asking for a jab in the face. Her right arm trembled.

“Dagger.” Jerika murmured, and the Elf threw his dagger down in front of Jerika’s feet. Picking it up, she spun it around in her hand.

“Are you willing to kill two of your own?” Jerika asked the Elven onlookers as she motioned to Kane’s prisoner.

[ March 22, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Telpeheled’s eyes roamed the battlefield. With a start he noticed that all was not yet over- there seemed to be some sort of confrontation occurring between the others and two Easterlings. ‘Just two? They must truly be the pick of the bunch!’ he thought wryly.

The situation did not look good. Somehow the two Easterlings had got Melcildir and what looked like Anuion, and were holding them at sword point. ‘I wonder how Bordarigorn allowed that to happen?’ he thought with a sigh.

The man was standing there, presumably considering his next move. Erdamineon and Lofinnaes were there too. But where was Maeralagos? Fearfully Telpeheled began to gaze around trying to spot his friend. Was he with the others, hidden from view?

[The Ruling Ring]

Maeralagos drew his sword up with skill, slicing vertically into the orc, to stun him, then horizontally, to disembowel him. As his enemey dropped, Maeralagos looked up and around, ready for more as the battle raged.

And suddenly, his wish was granted. Two hefty orcs and an Easterling, seeing him unhindered, charged for him, driving him back a few feet as they held their bloodied weapons high. One of the orcs swung his own sword down towards Maeralagos, who quickly parried the blow, driving the blade down his own, forcing it to cut deep through the abdomen of the other orc, who howled and gurgled, slumping to the ground. The first orc yelled in pure odium, pulling his sword away then thrusting at Maeralagos again. The Elf tried to duck, but found himself pressed against two trees, growing in close quarters to each other. The orc was in front of him, but was big enough to cover his left flank as well, and the Easterling stood to his right, making escape impossible.

The Easterling was keenly aware of this, as his croaky laugh indicated. He slung his sword back into its sheath, and with his other hand pulled a clean, shining hunting knife out of his belt.

"What better way to baptize a blade?" he said hoarsely, then struck, fast and fierce. Maeralagos dropped to his heels, but not quite fast enough. The blade burroughed deep into his shoulder, halting his descent as it pinned up against the back of the tree. Maeralagos uttered a short cry in spite of himself, twisting and struggling to free himself from the blade. The orc's guttural laugh sounded in front of him, and he saw the sullied blade dangling, the tip swinging close to his foul feet.

Suddenly remembering his own sword, Maeralagos drew it from the ground beside him, cutting quick across the orc's feet. The orc bellowed in surprise and pain, falling as his feet were practically cut out from under him. Maeralagos was ready though, hands up and akimbo as the bulky body descended on him, landing on his pointed outward sword. Maeralagos let him fall enough for the blade to penetrate, then pushed him away and backwards, into the legs of the Easterling behind him, bowling him over. Maeralagos leaped to his feet and, before another move could be made, brought the tip of his blade down into the Easterling's throat. He pulled the orc off of the dying one, then fled the scene, returning to what he believed was the fray.

But the fray was gone when he got there. Not gone, really; there was still quite a lot of evidence of battle, but there was no battle to speak of. Confused, Maeralagos continued on, one hand holding his sword, the other clamped over his shoulder, and was swiftly confronted with his comrades, held in rapt, horrified attention, to two Easterlings, one holding Melcildir hostage, one holding another Elf (Anuion, he surmised) in a deathgrip.

Maeralagos ducked swiftly behind boulder a few paces from the scene, noiselessly sliding his sword back into the sheath. He brought his bow around from his shoulder, hitching an arrow to the string and bringing the tip up, aiming for the female Easterling, the one holding Anuion, the one closest and easiest to hit then. He knew, if he hit one of the enemies, it would probably surprise the other long enough for them to do something.

[ March 06, 2003: Message edited by: The Ruling Ring ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

I wonder where he's gone? thought Telpeheled vaguely as he wandered through the long grass. I don't think he's anywhere around here. I should go back. By now they will probably have sorted out those two Easterlings, but just in case...

With a sigh, he turned back towrds the battlefield. I hope it's over. I'm finished fighting for now.

What was that? A rustle, almost too faint to be heard came from a clump to his left. Cautiously Telpeheled crept towrds the sound. It's probably a rabbit, but there's no harm being ready he thought grimly.

With a start he saw a crouching figure, an Easterling. At the same moment, the Easterling turned and saw Telpeheled.I suppose fighting is back on the agenda.

[the real findorfin]

Findorak watched as the confrontation between the elves and Jerika and Kane progressed. Bow at the ready, he waited for any signs that the elves had come out on top.

Suddenly a rustling from his right startled him. He turned to see a great elf looming over him.

For a second Findorak froze, as did the elf. Then with aswift action, he brought the bow around and shot out at the accursed elf. Unfortunately the immortal managed to dodge the hastily released arrow, but Findorak did not notice. As soon as the arrow had left the bow, he was up and scrambling up the hillside.

Wild thoughts crossed Findorak's mind as he ran. The wound in his chest was throbbing but he didnt notice, the fear of the uninjured elf was too strong. Would it catch up? I've only got a knife? Will I survive?

Findorak felt a doom dropping over him, but he cast it aside. Surely the Son of Fingatalak and heir to the Erborid estate would not be killed by a petty elf.

Adrenalin flooded into him and he kept on running across the hillside, away from the confrontation and hopefully away from the twice-damned elf.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Before Telpeheled had time to do more than draw his sword the Easterling had fired off an arrow. It was all Telpeheled could do to avoid becoming another casualty of the fighting. It also gave time for the man to flee.

I suppose I should go after him. thought Telpeheled resignedly. His head had begun to throb again. But he was injured too. It sholud be an interesting conflict!

The injured Easterling could not run very fast and Telpeheled knew he was gaining on him. After a few moments he heard laboured breathing in front of him. Surprisingly he felt a strange tug of sympathy for this man. It's time to decide. I could just go straight back down this accursed steep hill.
He considered for a moment, when unbidden an image of Durelin lying on the floor came into his head. No he thought firmly. Who knows what he might do?

Grimly he ran after him with greater speed. The long grass gave way, and in front he could see his opponent. Apparantly having given in to inevitability, the man had turned, sword drawn.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Kane stood, holding Melcildir still. His outward composure was calm and cool as ever, but inside he was panicking. Why did they have to do this? Why couldnt they have just hidden?

He caught Jerikas eyes and she shrugged slightly. She didnt look as calm as him, and he was sure she was panicking inside as well. Well, this was a brilliant situation to be in...

A cry from up the hillside alerted Kane and both the elves and easterlings looked up immediately. Despite their best efforts, the swift immediate action told Kane that the elves were just as edgy as himself and Jerika. But up the hillside he saw a figure half running, half scrambling away, followed by a second. He peered closely at the first figure and swore under his breath. Findorak! That mangy coward had stayed hidden! He hadnt even tried to do anything, he'd just left Jerika and Kane in this position. His panick turned to outrage, the back again as everyone returned to their usual positions.

"It is Telpeheled." One of the elves muttered to another. "He is hurt, I will go after him-" The elf stepped forward a few paces, then stopped as Melcildir gave small cry as Kanes dagger poked him sharply in the side.

"Back to where you were, elf." Kane hissed. The elf didnt move, but at least he was no longer trying to go after the elf, Telpeheled, or something like it. But Kane was sick of this position and it was destroying his nerves. It seemed the elves felt the same.

"What is it that you want?" Kane looked at the elf, his face a few centimetres from Kanes own. The young elfs worried eyes showed Kane that he was indeed feeling the same as Kane. The easterling didnt answer. Mainly because he had no idea what he wanted. He did almost feel sorry for this young elf though. I wonder how old he is...?

But another of the elves had heard Melcildirs question and repeated it, louder, so all could hear. "Yeah, what is it that you want, easterling?"

Kane caught Jerikas eye, but it seemed she had no idea either. The elf who had asked the second time was almost smiling at Kanes hesitation. They had to think of a plan soon....

[Helkahothion]

"You have no idea do you Easterling?" Bordarigorn asked smiling.

"Why don't you just let them go. We will let you go in peace." Melcildir added quickly.

Anuion laughed. He simply laughed. It was making the Easterlings even more unsertain of their actions.

"Great! I have been captured by the village idiots!" Anuion said. "Listen, I gave you the chance to leave and I will grant you one again. You won't get a tird. I suggest you let us go and leave to where you came from. This is not your country. And now our own either. So why don't we both leave?"
________
Volcano Digital

[The Ruling Ring]

Maeralagos shifted his weight nervously on his heels, straightening the loaded bow in his arms.

"Great!" he heard Anuion's surprising voice ring out. "I have been captured by the village idiots! Listen, I gave you the chance to leave and I will grant you one again. You won't get a tird. I suggest you let us go and leave to where you came from. This is not your country. And now our own either. So why don't we both leave?"

Yes Maeralagos thought tensely. Leave! Leave now!

He looked off towards the two figures running down from the scene; Findorak and Telpeheled. If he shot now, would it give away his position? If only it wasn't so quiet! Still, perhaps it would be for the best to shoot that confounded Easterling Telpeheled was after. They needed him back here, probably. Maeralagos redirected his bow.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Telpeheled and the Easterling eyed each other warily, swords drawn. Telpeheled was still panting from his run up the hill.

Out of breath and with his wound hurting again he decided to play for time. A battle of wits may be more to my liking at this time

"Why are you not down there fighting in the open? I suppose you are of high rank in your land, with your talent at sneaking and fleeing danger-" Telpeheled was cut off by a shout from below. They were now in clear view of the others, as he saw in lightning quick look downwards.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

"Great! I have been captured by the village idiots!" Anuion said. "Listen, I gave you the chance to leave and I will grant you one again. You won't get a third. I suggest you let us go and leave to where you came from. This is not your country. And now our own either. So why don't we both leave?"

Jerika sighed. It was all her fault. She and Kane were in this mess now because of her. Jerika may have been to stubborn to admit it a few seconds earlier, but there was no sense in denying it now.

What should we do? Jerika wondered, hoping another plan would come to her. She couldn't think of anything. Panic.

"Tell me, Anuion: If we are the village idiots, what are you since you have been captured by us?" Jerika asked aloud, though to her it did not seem like her voice. But it was, in a quite exhausted tone.

Jerika caught Kane's eyes, and shook her head. Maybe they should just give up. Anuion had a lot of pride. He had enough pride for his whole group and more. Someday -maybe that day - that would be Anuion's downfall. Perhaps Jerika's own stubborness was her own fault, and would someday lead her down.

I need a day when the world can take care of itself. I want to give up and just let this be what its been. Jerika thought, tiredly. Sometimes life gets you, but I'll keep going on. I've gotten this far. If I get up I might fall back down again. But I'll just go and see if I can make it.

"Kane, if you want to go, leave now. I'm not leaving. If it be to my death, so be it. I won't leave yet. Anuion, I call a one on one, no swords or bows, no elves ready to save you. Just you and me. That, or I can just kill you now. I'd prefer to give you another chance, as you did for me," Jerika spoke up, waiting for Anuion and Kane's replies and the reactions of the elves (and one man).

Yeah...I'm a fool. I'll probably come to regret this.

[ March 08, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[The Ruling Ring]

"Kane, if you want to go, leave now. I'm not leaving. If it be to my death, so be it. I won't leave yet. Anuion, I call a one on one, no swords or bows, no elves ready to save you. Just you and me. That, or I can just kill you now. I'd prefer to give you another chance, as you did for me."

Maeralagos' back stiffened at this, directing his attention from Telpeheled and the Easterling. What could he do? What should he do? Should he let this happen? Let this Easterling have some kind of match with Anuion? This was not what this mission was meant to be! His arm quivering, his wound burning and throbbing, Maeralagos let the arrow fly at the girl from his hiding place, then straightened up, loaded the bow again, redirected the bow, and fired at Telpeheled's Easterling, before his arm seized up with the injury. He stifled a yell of agony, doubling over, clutching his arm, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt sweat forming on his brow.

[ElentariGreenleaf]

The battle at Lothlorien had been gruesome. At one point Gabrielle thought the orcs had an advantage, but she encouraged her troops, and they pulled through. Orc and Easterling bodies lay dead on the ground. Gabrielle and the remaining soldiers found their dead comrades and gave them a good funeral.

"Now we must go on to the Brown Lands. Our fellow elves need help there." Gabrielle noted that there were a few groans in the group. "Never fear, for when we have won there, we will return here to a victory feast." Cheers went up from the crowd.

As they approached the brown lands, Gabrielle saw dead bodies laying everywhere. She could only hope they were not too late.

[the real findorfin]

Findorak had no hope of victory, and he knew it. It was hopeless. He let his weapon slip to the ground and raised his hands, "I will not fight elf. You would kill an unarmed man?"

Findorak hoped the answer would be no.
The elf wavered, and then lowered his weapon also, looking almost relieved.

"You may just be as noble as they say elves are," Findorak commented, playing for time.

"Just leave, now!" the elf spoke, tense and rigid.

"I wi...". Findorak stopped in mid sentence, an arrow protruding from his chest, but this time lodged in his heart.

"Obviously that was untrue," Findorak managed as a red heat overwhelmed him and he collapsed to the floor. His eyes rolled up into his head and his heart beat one last time, then stopped. As darkness decended, he remembered his father, his mother and his sister, he would miss them.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

With shock, Telpeheled realised that the man was lowering his sword.
"I will not fight elf. You would kill an unarmed man?"
Relief washed over Telpeheled, though he knew he should not feel that way.
I could not fight him now, could I? If it is what a fighter must do then I am no fighter!
He lowered his sword.

"Just leave, now!" he said, with a feeling that he was doing the wrong thing, betraying his mission. The sooner this man left, the sooner that feeling would go away!

A look of gratitude spread over the face of the Easterling. Suddenly Telpeheled had a vision of the life these Easterlings must lead, so similar to that of an Elf.

"I wi..." an arrow came, from nowhere, and hit the Easterling right in the chest.
"Obviously that was untrue" he stuttered faintly.
"No!" said Telpeheled desperately. "No! It was not me. No!"
But the man had gone- his spirit had left his body to go to, who knows where. A sadness of shocking magnitude filled Telpeheled.
Who did he leave behind? What life has he left?

With a touch he closed the eyelids of the Easterling, according him the respect that had been given Durelin, though he had not known him. Maybe this man had been evil, or maybe he had not.
If my Lord told me I was to kidnap someone for the good of our land and our people- would I not do it? We may not have been so different in the end.

Anger coursed through his veins. He stood up and walked purposefully down the hill, coming to a halt in front of the group of Elves and Men. And a woman! he thought with mild surprise.

"Who was it who shot an unarmed man?" he demanded, forgetting in his rage that the man had been his enemy.
"Come, tell me!"

[ March 09, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Kane, if you want to go, leave now. I'm not leaving. If it be to my death, so be it. I won't leave yet. Anuion, I call a one on one, no swords or bows, no elves ready to save you. Just you and me. That, or I can just kill you now. I'd prefer to give you another chance, as you did for me."

Kane stared at Jerika. Well, without meaning to, shed put him in a fine dilemma...What am I supposed to do now?!

The easterling was distracted by a voice, an angry, distressed voice from further up the hill. "Who was it who shot an unarmed man?"

An elf was storming down the hill, but the other elves expressions of relief and joy were quickly fading. The elf was furious.

"Come, tell me!"

Kane almost laughed; the elves had them in a brilliant position, they could technically kill at least one of them now...and one of their own kind was going to let them down! There was no time to lose though and Kane moved quickly. He pushed the elf he was holding away, towards one of the others, distracting them and covering for him. He ducked down as an arrow flew towards him from an unknown bow, missing his head by a hairsbreadth, and he grabbed a bow from the ground, dropped by one of the elves when he had demanded them do so. He grabbed the arrow that had just been shot at him from where it was buried in the ground. Swinging around he ran forward a few steps so he was between beside Jerika, with all of the elves in his range, including the angry one who had stormed into the scene a moment ago.

"Dont move." His voice was bolder than he felt. Then he dropped his voice, muttering to Jerika. "Jerika, go now."

"Im not leaving, Kane. I have made a challenge. I will honour it."

Kane couldnt believe what he was hearing. "Honour? That elf has no concept of honour, dont flatter him by making out he has. Jerika, even if you defeat him, the rest will kill you. There is no doubt about it. They will kill you. And even if you may want that, I dont. I dont want to see you dead Jerika."

The woman paused and the moment seemed to stay still. "What? Really?" Her voice was less angry. Kane still kept his eyes facing forward, sighting down the bow as he replied.

"Just run, please."

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

"Just run, please."

Jerika was ready to refuse in some way, but the way he had said 'please' kept her still and silent. It would have been surly or brusque to just not consider it. Should she leave? Both had given up the second chance, which Anuion supposedly promised. It would be folly to stay. Wasn’t that Jerika though? Staying when it seemed foolish to do so? It was like Jerika to stay until the end, and not give up.

Sighing, Jerika thought to herself, Some days its too hard to be old enough to make decisions, but young enough to hate every consequence.

"Go Jerika! Leave!" Jerika looked up at Kane when he spoke, her dark brown eyes searching his equally determined ones. That was a mean trick to play, with that look in his eyes. Jerika couldn't ignore it. Maybe I should just leave...

"Heroes are made when you make a choice," Jerika heard the words that her mother had told her when she was little. Why her words emerged in Jerika's mind at that moment, Jerika couldn't tell. "Heroes do what is right."

Jerika's face couldn't hide how she felt inside. Indecision could be read from any of her features. Her eyes became lost in thought, and worry grew also. Blind ambition. Pride. Stubborness. I wish I knew which way to go. Some days it's good to be the one and only, but today it's not fair to be the one and lonely.

"Kane..."

"Jerika...go!"

"No. You yourself said that even if I lived against Anuion they'd kill me. Wouldn't I be dying either way? I won't leave you here alone. If you're willing to give up your life to let me run away from this, then I'm willing to give up my life staying," Jerika's voice at first was weak and unsure, but as she became more confident in her choice, her voice and face showed it.

"If you look confident, you can pull off anything, even if you have no idea what you're doing. Don't let them see us at our worst," Jerika continued in a whispered voice to Kane.

Speaking up, Jerika adressed the elves (and one man). "Which of you killed one of our own? He was unarmed, and yet you high, noble elves had the nerve to kill? How much honor can your race claim to have if such is the case? And do we not have the right to take one of your own, since you have taken one of ours?"

Not that Findorak would have helped us. Well, he would have, if it meant less trouble for his future. Jerika reminded herself. The Elves looked dumbfounded as they considered her words.

[ March 09, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[The Ruling Ring]

A groan escaped Maeralagos' lips as he straitened up from behind the boulder, clutching the arm that still ached spasmodically.

"I did," he said heavily. "He was not unarmed when I fired, not that I could see. He wanted to hurt us, he wanted to hurt my friend..." Maeralagos looked hazily at Telpeheled, whose expression was unreadable from where he stood. He looked back at the Easterlings. "Don't punish all for the deed of one. I wish for no grudge between our people. If Elven blood must be spilled in exchange for Easterling, let it be mine," Maeralagos flung his bow aside as he spoke, unslinging his quiver and casting it down beside it. He drew out his sword, raised it in front of himself briefly, then dropped it also, to the other side. Let them do what they would.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"Which of you killed one of our own? He was unarmed, and yet you high, noble elves had the nerve to kill? How much honour can your race claim to have if such is the case? And do we not have the right to take one of your own, since you have taken one of ours?"

Telpeheled considered. It was a question he still wished to know the answer to, but he certainly did not agree with the sacrifice of one of his companions for the life of the man, as much sympathy as he had felt. Twice he opened his mouth to speak, twice he shut it again, feeling like a fish gasping for air.

He was considering opening his mouth for a third time when he was interrupted by a groan. From behind a rock appeared Maeralagos. Shame spiralled through Telpeheled once more.
I completely forgot him! he thought unhappily. What kind of a friend does that make me. I was more concerned over an Easterling than Maeralagos, who saved my life.

"I did," said Maeralagos with obvious difficulty.

So this is what my desire for justice has brought me? thought Telpeheled bitterly.

Maeralagos continued. "He was not unarmed when I fired, not that I could see. He wanted to hurt us, he wanted to hurt my friend..."

Ignoring the warning shout of the Easterling covering them with his bow Telpeheled hastened over, glaring behind at the man, daring him to shoot. Maeralagos didn't even seem to register his presence.

"Don't punish all for the deed of one. I wish for no grudge between our people. If Elven blood must be spilled in exchange for Easterling, let it be mine,"

"No" said Telpeheled calmly. He touched Maeralagos' shoulder.
"Lofinnaes, will you please help him?" Turning he addressed the two Easterlings.

"It would sadly lessen your triumph to kill one so badly injured. I do not understand your logic- you demand redress for a man who you obviously disliked, and may we too demand blood for the death of Durelin? You make much of Elvish honour, where is your honour?"

He paused. "Still, if you must have blood, mine seems to be ideal. It was my fault that your, well I do not think 'friend' is the right word, that your companion died. Yet Maeralagos did kill him, and my life is due to him, for he saved it. If this is what your honour demands, kill me. I have no weapons for I put them down when your companion did, so it would be a fair exchange, one unarmed life for another."

With a tight smile, he stood up and faced the man, Cane or something like it the woman had called him.
"Come, I must have your decision. Is Mandos after all to receive the pleasure of my company?"
The memory of the old joke taunted him, reminding him that if he was taken up on his offer it would be the last he ever made.

[The Ruling Ring]

"No," Maeralagos' voice was an involuntary whisper now, as he put his hand on Telpeheled's shoulder as well.

This couldn't happen...These weren't the ways of battle, of war! How could they kill Telpeheled because he, himself, had killed one of their soldiers, in defense of his friend? Maeralagos opened his mouth to speak again, but found that no sound came out.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Kane stared at the elves incredulously. They were all attempting to give up their lives and so, really, was Jerika. He still held the bow tight, but he was beginning to wonder what he was going to actually do for it. Findorak wouldnt have helped....

No! That wasnt the way to be thinking! Findorak was of his race, one of his people, a soldier of the same order as him...yet those who he had loved most were not easterlings....his mother was not an easterling...neither was Rhana...

He could sense everyone holding their breath and closed his eyes for a second and, with a sigh, lowered the bow slightly, but still so he was able to fire in a few seconds if need be. The elves seemed to let out a breath but knew that the danger hadnt passed yet. When Kane spoke, his voice was quiet.

"What are we all doing here?" No reply, so he pressed on, turning to one of the elves who has spoken before, one who had offered himself, his arm still bleeding profusely. "You said you wished for no grudge between our people, Maer..Maeral..." Kane gave up on the elfs name, not having heard it properly before. "Yet if any one man of my kind was to come to the door of Lorien, would be be recieved as another elf might be? Nay, I think not."

"Easterlings have caused much trouble for us in the past-" One elf started, but Kane whirled around to speak to him.

"Aye, and elves for us! It is not of much consequence to you, you elves live for thousands of years longer than I can ever expect to. I will be dead with in a few decades anyway. But everything Ive been taught tells me that I should raise this bow now and take down as many of you with me as I can." Another silent intake of breath could be felt as Kane began to slowly raise the bow, but he paused before it was high enough for him to sight down, the arrow still pointing downwards. He knew what he should do, by the traditions of his people, to go down fighting, but where was the honour or splendour in that, when they had thrown down their weapons and when one of them was so badly injured? He spoke again, his brown eyes searching the elves.

"And can any one among you tell me why I should not?"

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

"And can any one among you tell me why I should not?" Jerika considered Kane’s words. Looking upon the Elves, Jerika shook her head in confusion. Closing her eyes, Jerika remembered Kane’s speech of Elves. He was right. Elves caused just as much trouble with her kind as they had to them.

Darkness had begun to fall in the clearing, though none seemed to notice. The air became chill and the wind blew at the already falling leaves. Winter had begun to set in, but it was alright.

Well, if this is the day I die, I only wonder if I lived life right… Jerika thought as the group continued the ‘stare down’ in silence.

In such a situation, Jerika’s brother would say ‘A life for a life’. In such a situation, though, was that right? Maybe. Maybe not. If Findorak had no intention of helping Kane and Jerika, then would he really have killed an Elf for any other reason than defense?

Turning to Kane, Jerika wondered for a split second why he was here. Were the two of them called ‘Easterlings’ with such distain because they were from the east of this land they lived in, or because of something they had done? Was the word ‘elves’ spat out with hatred from the mouths of their people because they were of the first race, or because of things they in their turn had done to Jerika’s kin?

“No reasons? Nothing? So I faltered for nothing?” Kane spoke up one more time, his voice harsh and worn. Was he as sick of this as Jerika was? Truly and honestly, Jerika did not think before she spoke of who had killed Findorak. She didn’t think, either, that any of the Elves would take it so seriously as to offer their life.

Reasons...reasons...Jerika searched for a reason for Kane not to kill one of the Elves. So maybe the Elves detested Kane and Jerika and their kind. Was that a reason to kill one of them to make up for a life lost but not missed?

Not that Kane meant Jerika when he demanded a reason to stop, but Jerika felt responsible anyway.

“Because, Kane. It’s wrong. That’s why,” Jerika whispered simply. Her voice was so low though, she wasn’t even sure if even the ears of the Elves could hear what she had said. Speak up! Jerika scolded herself. Opening her mouth to say it again, she closed her mouth and merely sighed lamely.

[ March 11, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[The Ruling Ring]

Maeralagos' head snapped back up at the Easterling's next statement.

"So I faltered for nothing?"

Mustering his strength, Maeralagos bounded forward, stopping just inches from the tip of the Elven arrow the male Easterling had strung now.

"Go on, then!" he snapped. "Do it, if you despise us so! But, what feelings can you expect us to have towards you, if this is your way? Death is tragic to any when it comes before their time, but death like that Easterling suffered is the way of war! It is how Durelin went! It--"

He stopped then, realizing the girl had spoken, however softly.

“Because, Kane. It’s wrong. That’s why," she whispered.

Maeralagos closed his mouth, turning to her as she sighed.

"Is that what you really think?"

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Is that what you really think?"

Kane glared the elf in front of him, his chest an inch from the tip of Kanes arrow. But it wasnt Kanes, it was an elfs arrow...he would have to kill an elf with his own arrow...ah, his brother would love that...

"Try not to sound so confused." Kane shot back at the elfs comment. Maeralagos turned back to face him, but didnt speak, didnt continue his fancy speech. He simply looked slowly and deliberately down at the arrow, inches from his chest, then back at Kane. The easterling returned his gaze, then, without removing his eyes from the elfs face, he began to raise the arrow...

Maeralagos didnt move, but closed his eyes. "May the Valar have mercy on me..."

...and Kane continued to raise the arrow, up, level with Maeralagos' forehead...

...then past his shoulder. Kane shot the arrow into the air past the elf, then dropped the bow. Maeralagos gasped as he heard the bow string snap back into place as the arrow was released, then very slowly, opened his eyes to look back at Kanes, now returning his gaze once again.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"No," answered Maeralagos to Telepeheled's offer.

Is that the only response to my speech? he thought with an inward grimace. He waited for a shot, although a part of him did not really expect him to happen. If I truly believed they would kill me, would I still volunteer? he wondered.

"No reasons? Nothing? So I faltered for nothing?" asked the man.
Reasons for what? wondered Telpeheled. I seem to have lost the conversation somewhat!

As he tried to work out what was happening, Maeralagos moved forward, standing directly in front of the Easterlings bow.
"Go on, then!" he said.
Telpeheled froze. Surely he wouldn't do it? he thought, but preferred not to take the chance. He tried to get his body to move forward, do something, but couldn't even think.

An arrow whizzed past, only a foot or so from where Telpeheled was standing. His heart seemed to stop, and time remained stationery for a few seconds. As the shock wore off, he saw Maeralagos and the man standing facing each other. Nobody moved, nobody spoke.

With no warning Telpeheled found himself beginning to laugh. A chuckle built up in his throat and then escaped. The sound startled everyone as much as the shot had. They all stared, like he had run mad.

"Maybe I have" he said aloud, between laughing. They stared even more.
"Don't you see?" he asked "Everyone volunteered for you to kill them and you couldn't do it! What kind of fighters are you?"

Telpeheled laughed and laughed, dobled over, despite the tension remaining in the air, forgetting his own injury, the fact that Maeralagos was injured, Durelin's daeth and that they were still in an impossible situation.

[Amanaduial the archer]

In a second, Kane covered the ground between himself and the laughing elf, pushing aside Maeralagos and catching the elf a blow hard on the side of his face. He caught him off guard and the elf fell to the ground.

"What kind of fighters are we?" He yelled at the elf, standing above the cowering elf. "What kind of fighters are we? You insult me, insult my people, insult my companions...my dead companions...because...because I wouldnt kill an unarned man?" His voice was fading down as he realised. Yes, they were dead. They had to be. The bodies lying around about told him that. He glanced at Jerika and saw she was biting her lip. She knew as well as he did that both her brother and Kanes could be among them. Kane looked back to the elf on the ground in front of him, his nose bleeding slightly from where Kanes blow had hit it. He saw Telpeheled was injured as well as bleeding from his nose.

"You are injured." He stated dully, looking at the elfs wound. He dropped to his knees, not noticing Maeragalos behind him putting down the sword he had just drawn when he thought his friend was threatened, his head drooping. "As am I." Here he looked back to the elf again, who didnt move, but in his eyes Kane could still see fear. He leant forward towards him and saw all the elves on their guard at once, reaching for weapons. Kane didnt stop, just kept forward...and tocuhed the gash on the elfs arm. Dirt had seeped into it, and there were stones and all sorts there. The elves were still holding their breath and Kane moved back again with a sigh.

"Its impossible. Anything I may do, anything she does, towards anything you do...its seen through different eyes, enterpreted with different minds, eyes and minds that change our actions and words into terrible things, so different from anything we may do, or say... You spoke of honour, and I shot the arrow away from your friend. Yet then I am critisised."

He stopped and looked back at the elf in front of him and, like the elf had, he laughed. Not as inrestrainedly as the other had, just a little chuckle as he pushed his dark hair from his face. His eyes went from the elfs face, to his arm, then back again. "Its impossible."

"What is? My arm?" The elf smiled slightly and, to the surprise of all, especially Kane himself, unhappily, slightly...Kane smiled back.

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

"Everyone volunteered for you to kill them and you couldn't do it! What kind of fighters are you?" When the Elf had said this, Jerika could only blink at him with surprise registering all across her face. Who was he to ask such a question?

“What kind of fighters are we?” Kane roared, and Jerika flinched ever so slightly at the tone. “What kind of fighters are we? You insult me, insult my people, insult my companions...my dead companions...because...because I wouldn’t kill an unarmed man?”

He wouldn’t kill an unarmed man like your kind had…Jerika thought. Then it hit her: Everyone in the cave was either dead or close to it…that meant both Kane’s brother Vlad and Jerika’s brother Jeshak were probably piled in a heap among dead orcs. Jerika shuddered at the thought of being buried alive –or even dead- among smelling, bleeding orcs. Jerika bit her lip, and tasted blood as she contained her disgust and sadness.

"You are injured." Kane suddenly spoke with a passive voice. Jerika smirked and tried not to blurt out something about the comment. Yeah…I think most of us are Kane, including you. “As am I,” Kane continued, and Jerika sighed. As Kane came to crouch beside the giggly-elf, Jerika lifted her eyebrows in a confused and skeptical expression. When he only examined the Elf’s wound, Jerika could easily hear his companion’s relieved sighs, and Jerika rolled her eyes.

"Its impossible. Anything I may do, anything she does, towards anything you do...its seen through different eyes, interpreted with different minds, eyes and minds that change our actions and words into terrible things, so different from anything we may do, or say... You spoke of honour, and I shot the arrow away from your friend. Yet then I am criticized." Kane continued his speech. Jerika nodded in agreement. Because not everybody knows that everybody goes to a better place. I take what I need and some say it’s wrong but it’s right for me. Elves don’t understand the life we lead.

“It’s impossible.”

“What is? My arm?” The Elf wondered aloud, and Kane smiled.

“No. Your arm shall be easily fixed. Yet I fear the bond our races share with such hatred shall not be so easily mended. If they are not drowned in wine, we brought medicines along that can clean such gashes as you have,” Jerika spoke up, in a louder voice than she had spoken…or whispered in earlier. Looking down at her own mangled arm, Jerika winced at the sight. It’ll be a long time before that heals…

"Besides, even if you don't want to use the medicines, we probably will be. Kane, we should start figuring how to bury our dead and make a pyre for the orcs," Jerika continued. This fight was over, in Jerika's mind.

[ March 11, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"OOF!" the air was expelled from Telpeheled's lungs as the man hit him across the face. He wanted to argue, to tell them he had not been insulting them but had no breath left.

"What kind of fighters are we?" The man spoke furiously, towering over Telpeheled on the floor. "What kind of fighters are we? You insult me, insult my people, insult my companions...my dead companions...because...because I wouldnt kill an unarmed man?"

Gasping for air, Telpeheled once again could not reply.
"You are injured."
That's what hitting someone across the face usually results in! thought Telpeheled dryly, trying even inside his own head to mask the fear that maybe this time the man had been pushed too far.

"As am I." The man dropped to his knees, the fight visibly leaving him. He leant torwards Telpeheled, and touched the Elf's arm.
"Its impossible. Anything I may do, anything she does, towards anything you do...its seen through different eyes, interpreted with different minds, eyes and minds that change our actions and words into terrible things, so different from anything we may do, or say... You spoke of honour, and I shot the arrow away from your friend. Yet then I am critisised."

With a growing sense of unease, Telpeheled realised that this was true. He had been brought up to see men as brutal, less sophisticated, with the possible exception of Gondorians, but it didn't seem to be true. How much have I got wrong? he wondered.

“It’s impossible.” sighed the man, sitting back.
“What is? My arm?” croaked Telpeheled. Another joke? he thought. Because it works so well! Surprisingly, the man smiled back at him.

“No. Your arm shall be easily fixed. Yet I fear the bond our races share with such hatred shall not be so easily mended. If they are not drowned in wine, we brought medicines along that can clean such gashes as you have,” put in the woman.

She's offering us help! thought Telpeheled stunned.

"Besides, even if you don't want to use the medicines, we probably will be. Kane, we should start figuring how to bury our dead and make a pyre for the orcs,"

"I'm not going to argue with medicine" he said with another smile at the man still kneeling in front of him. He stood, brushed himself down and offered his hand to help the man up. With surprise on his face the man accepted the gesture.

"I didn't mean to insult you, when I asked what kind of fighters you are." continued Telpeheled "I am certainly not one to talk in that area! It's just...well, it seemed funny to me. I have a gift of seeing the comedy in strange situations. Perhaps a battlefield is not the most suitable place though." He sighed.
"You are certainly right that we judge you a certain way, as I'm sure you do to us. But, I am willing to put aside enmity for now, if you are? Our grudges may or may not be equal, as we do not know what your kind have done to our home, but shall we forget recriminations for a while at least?"

[The Ruling Ring]

"Try not to sound so confused," the Easterling spoke sharply.

Maeralagos looked full at him for another instant, then, narrowing his eyes a bit, shifted his gaze to the quivering tip of the arrow, less than hand's-length from his heart. He looked back up at the man, forcing his expression to remain the same as he looked at him. Slowly, the man began to raise the arrow, gazing fixedly at Maeralagos' head. Maeralagos felt his blood turn to ice. He shut his eyes, not so violently as before, and more in fear.

"May the Valar have mercy on me..." he whispered, then clamped his tremulous jaw shut.

There was a terrible pause, then Maeralagos heard the arrow fly. He let out an involuntary gasp, but opened his eyes to find that nothing had happened to him. The man was staring at him expectantly. Maeralagos looked at him in pure and plain astonishment.

Suddenly, Telpeheled's clear, familiar laugh rang out behind Maeralagos. All other sounds vanished from Maeralagos' consciousness as he turned to look at Telpeheled, whose laughter didn't seem like it was going to end shortly. Had he gone mad?

"Maybe I have," Telpeheled chuckled, gazing back up at them all. He redirected his attention to the Easterling who'd shot the arrow. "Don't you see? Everyone volunteered for you to kill them and you couldn't do it! What kind of fighters are you?"

The man responded by leaping over to him and clouting him savagely in the side of the head. Almost as a reflex, Maeralagos drew his sword, but froze, realizing that the man was going no further than talk, now, speaking fast and hot to Telpeheled on the ground, bleeding from the nose but seeming hardly to notice it, at that instantly. He stopped suddenly, dropping to a crouch next to Telpeheled. Maeralagos raised his sword slowly, unsure of what this man was planning to do.

"You are injured."

Maeralagos could hardly believe his ears. He was only examining his wound! He barely heard the exchange that followed, between the Easterlings and Telpeheled. He came up next to his friend at the words of his apology.

"You are certainly right that we judge you a certain way, as I'm sure you do to us. But, I am willing to put aside enmity for now, if you are? Our grudges may or may not be equal, as we do not know what your kind have done to our home, but shall we forget recriminations for a while at least?"

Maeralagos dropped down beside Telpeheled at these words, looking at the Easterlings beseechingly, not for mercy, but for forgiveness, at least in the short run.

[Grimbold]

Handorth lay on the red earth. His hands grasped the arrow which had entered his chest. His own blood lay around him, and the blood of countless dead. He heard the elves coming. They were finishing their work, killing the wounded. The pain was overpowering, he could not think, but as an elven swordsman passed, he had the strength to lie still and endure the pain while the elf searched for those who still held on to life. Handorth would not be butchered after being speared by an archer.

The arrow was taking him into death quickly enough. The elf passed, and Handorth moved his eyes again. The sun streamed down on him where it passed through the leaves overhead. His own blood gleamed in the golden light. He didn't have the strength to take out the arrow--besides, it would rip him inside out to do it. He seized his sword, and grasped the hilt, holding on to the one thing which had helped him through so many battles, so much strife. His other hand he used to grasp his shield, which was battered and notched from many impacts and blows. His vision seemed to turn red as the blood seeped out of his tightly clenched teeth.

Handorth coughed and hacked which sent a new spasm of heart-rending pain through his torso. Blood spattered over his neck as he convulsed. The sound drew the attention of a female elven warrior who was scouring the wreckage. She carried a blade dripping with foul blood. She stopped in front of him and stared at him. He met her cruel gaze. She moved towards him, but he coughed again and turned his head to one side, and back again, in a terribly difficult shake of the head.

"No," he uttered. "Let me die." Finally, his eyes lost focus and his head fell back, and he stared thoughtlessly into the blazing sky. His hands dropped, and Handorth passed away, out of his body.

[Helkahothion]

Bordarigorn was stunned. Never had he seen the elves in this way. Two offered to give their lives for that scrawny Easterling. These once where not as bad though. They just had an honour problem. So did the entire human race. When he heared the man offering Telpeheled aid, he smiled. These where OK really.

"No need to go all the way to the cave Master-"

"Kane" Kane said shortly.

"Master Kane. I have medications with me. I always have. You can use them if you wish. You are a man of honour, I can see that, but in my opinion, honour is a terrible thing. It took my life almost twice. Here, let me mend your wounds and those of the others as well. After that, you can go take the care of your dead." Bordarigorn said.

Bordarigorn opened his backpack and took out the herb's he always carried around. The bandages went around the wounded places and the air caught the smell of the Kingsfoil. Soon after, the Easterlings went their own way. Anuion stepped towards Jerika and took her by the hand.

"I know not what blood is in your veins. And I don't know which possesses mine, but we are the first of the Elven and Easterling race to leave each other without death involved. Go in peace. You fought with honour, but the pity is that it is for the wrong side. Go now, this war won't be long. It's a feeling." Anuion said friendly.

Jerika's face formed something that looked like smile. She turned around and her hand slipped out of Anuion's. The Easterlings walked down the hill and the Elves turned around, facing Bordarigorn.

"Nice Anuion, really nice. But we have something else to do right now. We are already late and cannot afford the survivors to reach the cave. I just hope that the survivors are Easterling and not Elfish." Bordarigorn said.

The elves looked at each other and a silence followed until Telpeheled broke it.

"What about Durelin? Are we going to leave him here?" He asked grievly while almost shouting at the man.

"Yes we are. But not for long. When we are done in the west, we shall head back to Durelin and take him back to Calas Galadhon. At least, I will go back. Even if I have lost my both leg's and would have to crawl the whole way. I will not leave him behind. He was brave and he will not be left behind. Now, who is willing to follow me for the last time in battle?" Bordarigorn spoke and while doing, he felt as if he was being lifted above the group.

He took out his horn and did not wait for an answer. He gave it a powerful blow and ran of to the west. They had wasted enough time.
________
Sc2 Replays

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Smiling at the elf and his comment, Jerika nodded and turned away to join Kane. The two walked down the hill as the elves began the journey away from the cave. Stopping at the bottom of the hill just before the cave, Jerika took in the sight for the first time. A little more than five elves had caused this much chaos between Easterlings and Orcs. Turning to face Kane, Jerika’s smiled faded.

“We can’t just leave them like this, not even the Orcs,” Jerika’s voice bounced about the clearing and cave, a lone sound among the quiet dead.

“We’ll burn the Orcs, and find a way to bury our own. You try separating the Orcs from our kind, and I’ll go find Findorak,” Kane’s usually strong voice wavered ever so slightly, perhaps from the knowledge that all in the cave were dead, or close to it, and that number included his brother. Jerika didn’t know though, and she nodded simply and began her work. She heard the gravel scrape as Kane turned on his heals to find Findorak, and Jerika went to work.

At some points she really thought that many of the men she was separating from Orcs should diet, for most of them were two or three times Jerika’s weight. Heaving Orcs into a large pile outside of the cave was no easy task. They smelled horrible to begin with, and even worse when dead and drenched in wine.

Scared of what she might find among the Easterling bodies, Jerika held off on that until every Orc had been taken from the cave, and piled in the center of the clearing. Then, Jerika bit her lower lip and began to search the bodies of her kind, looking for her brother. She found mangled and bloody men, some she knew, and some she didn’t. No sign of Jeshak anywhere.

When Jerika finally found Jeshak’s body, the last of the sun’s rays were streaming over the hills, and splashes of color consumed the clearing and lit the cave. Jeshak’s crumpled body was in a corner of the cave, and Jerika bent over to pick him up, to find him still alive! Barely breathing, Jerika’s warrior brother sputtered out blood from his coughing mouth, and weakly and slowly opened his hazy eyes. Through his stomach Jerika could see an arrow feather. The arrow was too far into Jeshak’s stomach to have been shot; one of the elves had stabbed Jeshak with the arrow.

“You-you’re alive! Jeshak! Let me help you!” Jerika stuttered, feeling tears behind her eyes. She could barely talk, either out of surprise or sorrow. Jerika went to grab the arrow, but Jeshak stopped her.

“No, no. Let me die. My time has come. I don’t know what to say other than I’ll miss you, and…” Jeshak trailed off as he coughed more blood.

“Don’t, Jeshak!” Jerika could feel one tear falling down her cheek, but she didn’t bother to wipe it away.

“No, I must. Will you tell my wife I love her? Tell her I’ve gone to a better place? Hug my daughter one last time for me. I’ll miss you, and them,” Jeshak’s voice became weaker with every plea, until, with his last word, he breathed a deep bout of air, and then breathed no more.

Biting her lower lip, Jerika hardly noticed as her lip began to bleed, and she hovered over her dead brother. Such was the way of things…for warriors. To live and to die, with no regrets. To fight with honor, and die the same way. Still, Jerika, who was fighting the tears that threatened to follow the first, thought that it was too soon. It was not fair that his younger sister would bury him when he would have had so much life ahead of him. Though her brother had been so self-contained, Jerika still respected him. Brushing the hair from his face, Jerika lifted up her brother and carefully laid him alongside his fellow warriors.

Jerika continued to organize the bodies, and was about to go find Kane when he came walking in, carrying Findorak.

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"No need to go all the way to the cave Master-"

Telpeheled nearly jumped with surprise at the sound of Bordarigorn's voice. Concentrating so hard on talking to this man he had almost forgotten the other Elves. Somehow it broke the atmosphere. The two Easterlings began to walk away. Telpeheled was disappointed. But I suppose it was never likely to happen. The best we could have hoped for was to seperate without death. He sighed and turned unhappily to Bordarigorn who was giving out bandages.

Telpeheled was filled with frustration that it had to end so abruptly, after everything that had happened.

No! he finally decided No, I'm not giving up on it yet.
He turned as he thought and walked purposefully away towards the Easterlings.
Catching sight of them walking slowly towards the cave he called out to them.
"I did not say thank you for your offer"
The two turned and he ran over.
"So, thank you. And thank you for showing me that there are two sides to every tale- we do not have the right of it always! And finally...good luck" he murmured softly
He hesitated for a minute,eyes locked firmly on the ground, then put his hand on Kanes shoulder and walked off.

Returning to the Elves he plumped down on the floor next to Maeralagos.
"How goes it, my friend?" he asked wearily. "I have to thank you too- thank you for looking out for me and thank you for trying."
He sighed again and leaned back against the grass.
"I think I've decided" he began, half to himself "fighting is not for me. Not now, for I will always think of the life I am cutting short, rather than the life I am saving."

Bordarigorn interrupted any speech, raising his voice as he spoke to Anuion and reminding everybody that their mission was not yet finished.
"But we have something else to do right now. We are already late and cannot afford the survivors to reach the cave. I just hope that the survivors are Easterling and not Elfish."
Telpeheled reacted angrily to Bordarigorn's speech.
"What about Durelin? Are we going to leave him here?" he said with hostility, for he did not wish to be told that there would be more fighting.
It seems he is forgotten already. Just another casualty of war.
"Yes we are. But not for long. When we are done in the west, we shall head back to Durelin and take him back to Calas Galadhon."
Ready for action, yet again thought Telpeheled wearily.

[ March 16, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]

[Dark Shadow]

It was all over now. The elves and Easterlings had parted without coming to death, and now they headed for Lothlorién, to see what battle had done to the west. It was indeed a strange fate that after so much threat and bother and holding of hostages, both races, had decided that bloodshed was not the way for things to be settled.

The Easterlings are a surprisingly noble race, thought Erdaminéon, as he followed slowly, what is it that sets them apart from those of the west? Why are they despised, as are Orcs and other foul things?

He was one of the few who had not been severely injured. In fact the battle hardly showed on him at all. He had been right in the prediction that he would be of little use, although it was not his injury that had made it so. Even in the discussion that had followed the battle he had been silent, unresponsive, and he’d barely noticed the chase of Telpheled after one of the remaining enemy. And now he felt just as insignificant to the party, but it didn’t trouble him anymore.

[The Ruling Ring]

"How goes it, my friend?" Maeralagos heard Telpeheled's voice at his side. "I have to thank you too- thank you for looking out for me and thank you for trying."

Maeralagos looked up at him from his gaze at the ground. He looked at him with a face ghostly pale, before managing a small smile. At least Telpeheled had lived to see the end of this confrontation. At least they all had...

Maeralagos listened as Telpeheled continued speaking quietly, listened as best he could. He felt sick with himself. No time before, had he ever felt that it was wrong to kill an enemy. No time before had the life of one enemy been shown to him as the life of one person, as it had after he killed Telpeheled's foe. Maeralagos began to wonder about that other Easterling he'd killed back by the trees, the one who'd inflicted the wound in his shoulder.

He was startled out of this painful reverie with Telpeheled's question to Bordarigorn. He listened to the proceeding exchange without words. They were going to start up again. He looked around for the other Elves.

[ March 18, 2003: Message edited by: The Ruling Ring ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

So, Kane and Jerika piled the orcs up and set them aflame, letting the foul smoke rise. It didn’t even matter to them anymore who saw that they were there. The two buried the rest of their kin as best they could with their time and supplies. They made ready to leave the cursed caves, taking any supplies left undamaged by the soaking liquor. The sun was completely gone now, and the stars shimmered in the night sky like diamonds on a velvet blue background.

Turning away from the cave, Jerika couldn’t help but notice the fallen Elf. He was all that remained to remind the two of the battle, unless one counted the drenched cave. The Elf was dirty with blood, and droplets of both deep red Human blood and black Orc blood stained his coat and splattered his face. A deep, deep gash in his right side could have been the final blow for him, and the cut on his arm may have done something as well. But Jerika was no healer, and could only determine that either her kin or the foul orcs brought this Elf’s death upon him with great agony.

“Jerika, let’s go,” Kane’s voice behind her startled Jerika out of her thoughts, and she turned to face him. She lifted a hand towards the elf, and Kane raised a skeptical, questioning brow.

“We can’t just leave him for the animals,” Jerika mumbled.

“The Elves will come back for him, and they’ll want to bury him in their way and where they live,” Kane reminded her. He jerked his head towards the east, and one more time, said, “Let’s go.”

Jerika shook her head and went back over to the fallen elf. Gently dragging the heavy elf by the shoulders, she brought him into the cave. The animals would be too scared to go in there with the entire stink still around and all the chaos that had already gone on. With a satisfied nod, she turned away and walked out of the cave again.

“Let’s go.” Jerika said finally. The two turned away from the cave, walked over the hills and never looked back. Jerika never returned to that cave, and only continued her ventures, avoiding the cave where her brother and so many others perished.

[Helkahothion]

Anuion walked silently. His partner was not very speechful. In fact, he had not talked at all. Only given the nesecary orders. It was weird. It was not often that Bordarigorn was quite after a battle. It was very odd in deed. Anuion nodged his buddy in the side, but got no response.

"What is the matter?" Anuion asked.

"This battle is. They killed Durelin. Those stinking rotten.... they killed him. It's odd though. After seeing those Easterlings, I found out that they are not so bad. They have honour. But they did kill Durelin. On the other side. I think it would be a shame if that Jerika and Kane would die. It's just that I feel bad for both sides. I don't know what to feel about the Easterlings I killed. And it's tearing me apart. Same like the time that we had to fight........ you know.

To the surprize of the entire group, Bordarigorn fell over and sat down with his face in his hands. He cried. He cried for a long time and could not stop. He felt his head spinning. It was as if the world had vanished in the flow of his tears. A continues beep rang trough his head constantly teasing him. Was this his consience? Bordarigorn felt sorry for they way he asked that Easterling where ANuion was. There would have been no reason for him to chrush his knee. For the first time in his life, Bordarigorn felt that he was a terrible person. And not even the nice elfish words of Anuion could take away the guilt. He was a broken man.
________
Hot Box Vape

[Lyra Greenleaf]

The group travelling back towards the Golden Wood were very different to the one thathad gone the other way. Telpeheled tried to work out what had caused the change.

The obvious thing was that Durelin was no longer with them, and Anuion was- but this would not account for the dispirited nature of the party. Durelin was hardly a cheerful companion! Telpeheled thought wryly. There should have been an air of victory, as there had been after the wolves, but that seemed the opposite of what was true. Perhaps they fear what they shall find when we get home? Telpeheled wondered suddenly. We have no way of knowing how that battle went. He sighed unhappily, hoping that nothing had happened to his family, friends and home. Finally he had to admit that maybe he wasn't the only one disillusioned about the glory of fighting when you discovered that the enemy had lives too. He sighed again and tried to banish the thought from his mind. There was still a possibility they would have to fight more, and he had to be able to do it.

As they continued on their way, Telpeheled tried to think of more cheerful events, celebrations and dancing, laughing, both memories and hopes for the future. It began to work, crowding the dark thoughts from his head.

It was a shock when he found himself suddenly behind Anuion. He and Bordarigorn had been far ahead of Telpeheled. It was an even greater shock when he realised the Elf was leaning over Bordarigorn sitting on the ground. The man was making a very odd sound. It took a while for Telpeheled to register the noise as crying, for this was virtually unknown to him. He still didn't understand why the man who was possibly stronger than any of the others had broken down so.

He went over and sat next to Bordarigorn, privately grateful for the rest, and put his hand on the man's shoulder. He had expected resistance, but the man offered none.
"Tell me what is wrong" he said softly, with little hope of an answer- for if the man will not talk to his closest companion, why would he answer Telpeheled? Still he knew that it was necessary to help the man. They needed him for whatever fight was coming up.