Castle Maladil - RPG

[Belin]

Honor? Celumëomaryu frowned. Honor was a row of numbers that added up correctly. Honor was knowing what you’d paid and knowing what you deserved. Honor was a matter of resources, consequences, and truth.

Honor required no such thing of her.

But Maladil meant something different. Maladil believed in the forms of the living, and in the preservation of bodies. She trailed after him, considering.

She would not have considered what he wanted of her were he a less valuable ally. But to have Maladil on her side counted for something. And certainly they could be caught if they escaped. She disliked the risk it entailed, and she disliked yet more the idea of seeing Anna freed, of seeing the smirk on her face and the disappearance of the cube.

But there was no need to defy Maladil just yet, and surely there would be some satisfaction in returning them to the cell, would there not? It could be years yet before they “learned the limits of mortality”… or before she would say they had.

“Maladil?” she said, catching up with him. “I hold the keys, it’s true. And I’ll continue to hold them.” Nothing too brash, she reminded herself, not while he’s an ally. “With your permission, of course. Would not I be the most suitable jailor?”

She watched the back of his head for the expected nod as they entered the dungeon again.

[Susan Delgado]

Anna looked up when Maladil and Celumëomaryu entered the room and paused outside the cell. They stood and stared at Anna and Calimiel for several moments before Maladil glided through the bars and stopped before the cube. After a moment, Maladil took up his trusty sword, Orc-Bane, and thrust it into the side of the cube. The walls shimmered and, with a faint pop, vanished. Nobody moved until Maladil turned and nodded to Celumëomaryu where she waited outside. She nodded in return and unlocked the cell. She indicated the two bodies near the far wall.

“Pick them up and follow us.”

Anna and Calimiel glanced at each other. What was going on? Calimiel shrugged and started toward the bodies, but Anna paused long enough to as, “What are we doing with them?”

Celumëomaryu started to say, “That is not your concern,” but partway through, Maladil gestured her silent and said, “As penance for allowing them to die and taking over the bodies of their companions, you are going to bury them.”

Anna considered this, then nodded and joined Calimiel where she stood over the two ex-Men. She didn’t think it would do any good to argue that she had, in fact, tried to save the ones that were still alive when she discovered them, so she didn’t.

The bodies were very heavy, heavier than their new bodies would be able to handle even if they hadn’t been weak from starvation. It was simply a matter of the bodies belonging to men, and Anna and Calimiel being women and smaller. In the end, they had to drag them out of the cell and down the two flights of stairs to the first floor. Very often they had to stop and rest. Servants appeared occasionally and watched, awed at the sudden appearance of living folk when they’d seen naught but fellow ghosts in so many centuries. Along the way, Maladil summoned Tiroedrath, the downstairs door-warden. He’d always struck Anna as a man well versed in keeping secrets.

Eventually, they made it down to the Great Hall and through the door into the corridor. Gratefully, they dropped the bodies and wen into the storage room to pick out shovels. Of course, after they did, they had the added problem of hauling the men while trying to juggle the tools, but fortunately the corridor wasn’t very long and soon they were able to put the Men down to dig the graves.

They approached the door leading outside with trepidation. What would happen now? Would they be allowed to roam free, or would their movements be more restricted?

They dropped the bodies just inside the door and stepped through with their shovels. Immediately both stopped and turned their faces up to the sun. They hadn’t felt its light in so long! For several minutes, they ignored the urging the others were giving them and simply enjoyed the rays. Finally, Celumëomaryu convinced Tiroedrath to start poking them with his sword, and that was annoying, so they stepped out onto the sward and looked for the first time in a long time with living eyes on the orchards and gardens. Calimiel seemed especially moved. She hadn’t seen anything for so long...Anna could only imagine what it must be like to see again after being blind.

“Come on, come on,” Celumëomaryu said impatiently. “Let’s go, bury them so you can get back into your cell.

Anna glanced over at Calimiel, but she was still entranced by the vision and wasn’t paying any attention. Anna shook her head.

“It was hard work carrying those bodies, Celumëomaryu. We have to rest before we can do anything like digging holes.” She threw her shovel down and stretched out full length on the grass to emphasize her point.

Celumëomaryu glanced at Maladil where he waited just inside the Castle but he wasn’t paying attention either and Tiroedrath only shrugged when Celumëomaryu looked at him. With an aggrieved sigh, she said, “Fine. I’ll give you five minutes, then you have to get up and work.”

Anna nodded, remembering how hard it had been to keep track of time when she’d been a ghost, and, indeed, her new living senses told her it must have been nearly an hour later when Celumëomaryu said, “All right, your five minutes is up. Start digging.” Anna nodded and rose to her feet. She and Calimiel started digging in the soft ground near the Castle wall. It was fortunate the ground was soft, for the work would have been hard otherwise. As it was, with the sun shining on their backs and fresh air in their lungs, the digging went swiftly and easily. When they had two graves, shallow but deep enough, they dragged the two bodies in from outside and dropped them in, then packed the dirt around them again. They dropped their shovels and brushed their hands off for a job well done.

They glanced at each other and a thought passed between them, unvoiced and too soft for Celumëomaryu to hear. Quickly, before the Elf could react, they took off running. Anna ran toward the door in the garden wall, just past the Roses, but when she heard Celumëomaryu’s screams and glanced back, she saw that Calimiel was not following but was heading toward the Orchard instead. Well, that was her choice. It was better to be split up, anyway, that way Celumëomaryu would have to choose whom to follow. She’d forgotten about Tiroedrath and was startled when she sensed Calimiel being followed by the guard and the Elf behind herself, and gaining. This wouldn’t do! She tried to put on more speed but found herself slowing instead. She must be more tired than she thought.

She felt Celumëomaryu’s mental blow a moment before it struck her and so was able to erect a shield in time to deflect most of it and rather than kill her as it had intended, it only knocked her off her feet. In an instant, Celumëomaryu was on top of her, trying to strike her with cold ghostly hands, but she was able to twist away at the last moment and regain her feet. She was about to run again when a cry echoed from the direction Calimiel had fled. Anna and Celumëomaryu both looked up and Anna was disgusted to see Calimiel meekly following the door-warden back toward the Castle. How could she?! Well, she wouldn’t be captured so easily! With a cry, she ran toward the wall again, ignoring Celumëomaryu’s screams of rage. She reached the door in the wall a moment before the Elf and pulled it open. Freedom! She ran through the door, toward the distant trees of the forest. Halfway through, she hit a barrier like a wall and bounced inside again. Instantly Celumëomaryu was on her and as the world descended into darkness, she knew no more.

[ January 21, 2003: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[piosenniel]

'Who is that?' asked Holly, nudging Bird with her arm. She had watched the scene unfold on the other side of the camp, and wondered who the man might be. She had seen Volondil sheath his blade, and Gandalf approach him with something to eat and drink. What interested her most was that Gandalf had taken Andreth’s book out and consulted it, though the expression on his face after he had read the desired passage was not one of satisfaction.

Bird had changed back into human form and now sat poking at the small campfire, watching as the small sparks flew up into the darkness. Her attention was focused on the flames, and she did not answer. Holly prodded her once again. ‘That man over there, what’s his story? Are we taking him with us. He looks ill.’

‘Oh, him.’ said Bird, turning to look at the Hobbit as if seeing her for the first time. ‘He’s some fellow from Bree who escaped from the castle, apparently. I doubt he’ll want to accompany us back toward it.’ She pointed her stick at Holly, and tapped the sooty end on her friend’s shoulder. ‘Forget about that poor man. Nothing we can do about his situation, and I’m sure Gandalf will send him safely on his way. What we need to be thinking about is what Gandalf read from that girl’s book.’

Holly took the stick from Bird and tossed it in the fire. It flamed up for a moment then broke in two and fell among the coals. ‘And what was that?’

‘It was about the Treasury – the one in the castle.’ Bird looked up at the dark sky as if reading the words there.

‘To best defend from thievery, and armed door-warden stands without, to let you in.’

She paused before repeating the second half.

‘To let you out with open hands your honesty, within.

Holly kicked a burning ember that had come popping out of the fire, back into the pit. She shook her head at Bird, who stood looking at her expectantly. ‘You know I’m a dunderhead at riddles. And this one makes even less sense to me than most. You’re the one who’s good at them. Don’t you have an inkling yet of what it might be?’

‘I’m working on it, Holly. I’m getting there. It’s just not clear quite yet.’

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel and Estelarion only then arose from where they had still been laying. They had both been awake, but they listened to the bustle around them, hoping that they could eavesdrop without the others being aware of their presence.

The conversations continued around them as they crossed over to where Holly and Bird were.

"I’m working on it, Holly. I’m getting there. It’s just not clear quite yet," Bird said as they approached.

"What is not clear?" Estelarion asked, curious.

"Riddles," Holly replied vaguely.

"Do not ask us to solve it," Menelduliniel said, "We are no use with riddles ever. We much prefer to listen than to solve."

Menelduliniel and Estelarion departed, for they knew that the other two would probably want to talk in private for a bit longer.

The two wandered over to Poppy, who was sitting alone at the moment. They sat down on either side of her, and she offered them some food. They obligingly took it and ate rather quickly. Menelduliniel and Estelarion looked over the top of Poppy's head, then looked down at Poppy.

"What have you heard?" Menelduliniel asked her bluntly.

"Have you heard what is going on?" Estelarion continued for Menelduliniel, "We heard that the man is from Bree at some point, but have you heard any other tidings? What brought that disheveled man to join our party? Will he be coming with us? What is his story? Has anyone spoken in front of you of what is going on?"

Both looked curiously and expectantly at the small Hobbit. They both figured that, as she was trust-worthy, she could have heard some of the discussion, as the others would have looser tongues around her.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Calimiel breathed a sigh of relief as Anna stirred from her pale deep swoon into a sitting position. Calimiel spoke. * The sun and its shadows have been weaving their striped way among the bars many hours this day since you ... since outside. Meanwhile, I've saved you some herb-and-apple salad, and we've water enough.

* Calimiel fetched Anna some water in a goblet of carven cherry wood. Calimiel meanwhile held a matching goblet. As for food, Calimiel left Anna to scrounge for it herself from the pile in the middle of the floor where it had been dumped, for there were no plates, no spoons, and certainly no knives to be had in the fastness of their dungeon cell. *

Tell me what happened. Why you surrendered to the door-warden so quickly? What happened after I fell? * Anna understandably was full of questions. *

* Not caring that Celumëomaryu had apparently chosen to haunt the dungeon and hovered near, waiting and listening, Calimiel explained events from her vantage point. *

Well, I couldn't help myself when we ran, Anna ... the orchard so near, the apples and pears ripe, the perfume of the trees drew me to their welcome sight. The sun shone golden on the choicest pear, glinted into my eyes. Bringing back memories of when climbing such trees and spending the afternoon sitting up there, dangling your feet and singing, or swinging from their branches laughing was ... safe.

But it was the hunger overcame me most. I knew Father would win, after all, no matter what you and I could ever think of. So to enjoy even one pear, before he did win, this time ... But Tiroedrath came too soon, speared away the second pear with his sword. Could have sliced off all the fingers on my right hand, if he'd wanted, had Father given permission. Then he put the blade up to my chest, and I knew if I didn't move, that he did have leave to draw blood.

Shortly after you went crashing down at the gate, the Butler came hurrying down all self important-like. He reported to Father that one more body had been left in the cell. And so I was made to bury that one myself, while you just lay there growing pale instead of tan in the sun. At last I was made to carry the shovels back to the storage room, then carry you back inside and up here, needing to stop and rest on the landing of each stairwell.

And now, here we are.

* Anna glanced towards the portion of wall where she'd discovered the switch that worked the secret door. The door was closed up tightly again, leaving no discernible outline of its presence in the wall. *

[ January 21, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Have someone tend to your wound, Alearindu, ... perhaps Bethberry or Holly. For though you bear this minor cut bravely, 'twas deep enough to stain your shirt and seep through your bandage.

* Gandalf accepted the daggers from Alearindu with an appraising look, furrowing his brows and musing aloud as if to himself. *

Why, these weapons might be of Dunlending make, judging by workmanship of hilt and curvature of blade. You found them this morning, Alearindu, and our guest Mat Rushlight of Bree arrived only this past night. The trap hadn't yet been set when he'd come up the road from the Castle. We must be wary then. More wary, as it's been odd that we've had no further Orc raids on our encampments, since the first night out from Sarn Ford.

* Mat Rushlight had woken up and breakfasted ravenously on toast, blackberries, and sweet-spice tea. Having told his tale on stumbling into camp, he preferred to speak little now, though he greeted one and all with a calm "good morning" and thanked the company for its hospitality every now and then. At last he took off northwards on the Greenway, bearing the sword he'd been given. *

* The company took off southwards, and making good time, came within sight of Castle Maladil in middle afternoon. However, Gandalf steered the company away from the side-road to Laurëondo and bade them instead set up camp in a clearing off the main road, to await nightfall. As the sun's rays slanted towards evening but with still enough time to walk back before the evening meal, Gandalf asked Holly to bring her sketch pad and drawing instruments, to accompany him and map the outside boundaries of the Castle grounds. *

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

[Susan Delgado]

Anna started to get to her feet, but fell back partway up, limbs shaking and head pounding. If this was what it was like to be mortal again...so weak and easily overcome! She huddled on the floor, staying as still as possible, until she thought she could move again. Even then, she didn't attempt standing but crawled across the cell toward the pile of food. She selected an apple and bit into it gratefully. She felt a bit better when it was finished and she rose shakily to her feet, still weak but stronger than before. She sensed Celumëomaryu watching her from just outside the bars and deliberately ignored her. She wasn't going to give the Elf any more of her attention; it simply wasn't worth it, was less than worth it, in fact.

She made her way back to the wall to examine the secret door. She found the switch again, but when she pushed it, the door remained firmly closed. They'd found a way to block it, or had broken the mechanism. She nodded when Calimiel told her she'd already tried that, and sank back down to the floor. She heaved a deep sigh. In all her days, she couldn't remember feeling so defeated. Even the day she'd died hadn't felt this way. At least then she'd still had freedom of a sort. More than this cell gave her, anyway.

"What do we do now?" She asked quietly.

Calimiel shook her head and sat down nearby. "I don't know," She said. She glanced over at Celumëomaryu, who was still watching them. Patience of the immortal, she supposed. "Anna..." She began.

"Yes?" Anna asked when Calimiel didn't continue her thought.

Calimiel had been thinking about the food. "How long do you suppose these bodies will last if they don't get fed?"

Anna glanced over at her friend. "What do you mean?" She asked sharply.

Calimiel indicated the pile of fruit and herbs in the middle of the floor. "That won't last forever, you know. Will the others remember that we need food? They didn't before."

"Before, only a few knew about the prisoners, and now that she's set herself as our guard, she should notice when the food runs out." She indicated Celumëomaryu distastefully.

"But you know how hard it is to keep track of time. What if she only glances closely at the cell once a week? We'd die."

Anna thought about that for a moment, then burst into laughter. Calimiel seemed worried, and also annoyed for not knowing the joke. After several moments, her cries of, "What? What?" got through the noise Anna was making and she was able to calm herself. She began to respond, then glanced over at Celumëomaryu again. The laughter had also attracted the Elf and she had come close to the cell. She was staring at them suspiciously. Anna picked up the apple still on the floor near her hand and through it through the bars. It swished through Celumëomaryu's belly and, with a disgusted snort, she moved farther away, though not as far as before. Anna gestured Calimiel closer and whispered into her ear, "If we die, then what? We're free of this cell! We'll be back in the Castle. But if she realises that, if she hasn't already, she'll make sure we always have lots of food. She'll make it a special point."

Calimiel obviously hadn't thought about it like that. She started at the ceiling for a moment, considering. "Would she have realised it already, on her own?"

"I don't know. She might have; she's very smart. But we won't give her any help."

Calimiel smiled and sat down again. "Let's play a game."

"All right. Something with hands, I suppose. We haven't anything else to use."

Calimiel nodded again and the two quietly began to make rules.

[ January 22, 2003: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[piosenniel]

‘Now what does that wizard want?’ Bird perched on the pile of packs that had been stacked hastily against a nearby maple tree, watching Holly sort through her drawing supplies. She flew to the Hobbit’s shoulder peering in the small back pack open in front of her. A sheaf of drawing paper, of no special quality had been, secured within a stiff leather notebook, and a number of charcoal drawing sticks of differing hardness had been placed in the front pocket of the pack, along with a small pen knife to sharpen them to points as needed.

Holly was busy, preparing to go on the mapping expedition with Gandalf. She glanced at the westering sun, and wished the wizard had elected to take Andreth on this fool’s errand of his. Map the cursed castle! She had seen the condition of the Man who had stumbled from it, and here she was heading toward it. And how was she to know that Gandalf would get them back before it got truly dark.

‘The wizard wants to stroll around the castle and map the perimeter.’ Holly stuffed her pockets with round stones from the pouch at the side of the big pack, and secured her sling to her belt. A skin of water and some dried fruit she put in the side pocket of her back pack, along with several tapers and a flint set to light them. Olo had lent her his thick walking stick, and she placed it near the small pack in readiness.

She spied Gandalf coming toward her, his staff in hand, looking ready for their trek. Holly put on her cloak and fastened it at the neck. She flung it back at the shoulders, easing her arms through the straps of her small pack, and picked up the walking stick. She paused as she strode forward to meet him, and turned back to wave to Bird. ‘Now where has she gone off to?’ she wondered, looking up toward the branches of the surrounding trees.

By then Gandalf had met up with her, and they turned their course in the direction of the castle . . .

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

[*Varda*]

Poppy’s eyes widened as the stream of questions poured out.

“I have heard that the man’s name is Mat Rushlight, and that…he came from the castle. I haven’t heard what happened to him there, we can only imagine. I know nothing more, and this only from what I’ve heard around the others. You’d have to ask Gandalf if you wanted to know more, but I doubt you’d get much out of him,” she replied.

“Why do you ask me, anyway? Why do you assume I would know any more than the others?” she asked, suspiciously, her face confused.

[Child of the 7th Age]

"Mat Rushlight! Did you say Mat Rushlight?" Andreth turned to face Poppy. She had paid little attention to the most recent developments, and had not heard the name before.

Poppy looked over, "Yes, that's his name. Do you know him?"

"J-just a little. He is a Breelander. I have heard of him before. He hails from my home county."

Andreth felt a chill run through her heart. Who were these villains to do such a thing to a man who had done no particular harm to anyone? And why had they settled on someone from Bree? If someone was keeping an eye on her home region, perhaps they had seen others in the area as well. That thought made her strangely nervous.

[ January 22, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Both Elves looked at each other, startled. The Hobbit's suspicious nature surprised them both immensely.

"Well," Menelduliniel said, "People seem to trust you. We trust you to tell us the truth and others trust you to hear the truth."

She looked at Estelarion, who nodded in confirmation of her statement. They both returned to the Hobbit, hoping that Poppy would be satisfied with this answer. It was the truth after all. They saw no reason why this answer should offend her, either.

[Bêthberry]

While the others were setting up camp for the night, Bethberry strolled over to Alearindu, to check upon the dagger wound. Gandalf had been right; the wound was not deep and luckily for Alearindu, the days' journey had not disturbed the dressing nor brought forth new bleeding.

"It looks well, no strange swelling, no tender flesh, no new bleeding. Does it pain you much?" she asked Alearindu, who smiled calmly and denied any difficulties. Bethberry treated the cut with more herbal tincture and changed the dressing, satisfied it was healing well.

A few words later, Bethberry retreated to the campfire where she watched Holly and Gandalf prepare for their observation of the Castle. She was happy that no one observed her own stiff side and somewhat laboured breathing. She had not been able to warm herself by the campfire last night after returning from the stream where she had watched Nardol through his healing ritual. Nor had the exertions of the day warmed her any further.

And now by the fire she felt her bones still cold from the stream despite the feverish sweat breaking out on her brow and around her neck. Breathing brought a sharp pain in her side, and no sense of fresh air in her lungs. She shivered and wrapped her cloak more tightly around her, moving closer still to the fire and taking with thanks a cup of the spiced tea which Andreth had prepared. She felt weak and for the first time began to feel that she would fail this mission.

The secrets of the herb garden might yet remain lost in the ages past if she could not shake off this illness. "Perhaps," Bethberry thought to herself, "my role this journey was never to achieve the garden. Perhaps I have accomplished what was meant to be, to show Nardol a way to whatever healing he might be able to find."

Bethberry drifted off to a kind of wakeful doze, overcome by the fever which was coming on.

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

[*Varda*]

Poppy sighed, and relaxed.

“I’m sorry,” she said regretfully. “Only, this journey has involved a lot of new experiences for me, and…I don’t know, if I’m to see Maladil himself, and hearing the state that man was in…it just makes me nervous. I didn’t mean to be suspicious, I know you were just asking.” Her clear blue eyes showed sincerity, and the elves nodded.

Poppy watched Andreth’s startled reaction. Had she known the man well? Poppy inwardly sighed with confusion before she turned back to Menelduliniel and Estelarion, leaving the girl to mull over her thoughts.

[VanimaEdhel]

Estelarion noted the startled reaction as well, and silently wondered what connection Andreth had to this man and the town of Bree. It seemed that everyone had connections to some horrific event in these times...these dark, morose times.

Yet Poppy still possessed those innocent eyes. How could her eyes stay that innocent? Was the Shire really such a beautiful, peaceful place? It was hard to imagine a place untouched by horrors now.

But she was not purely innocent. She made that apparent with her mistrust of their motivations when they asked her of what she had heard. What was her task here? Mithrandir would only brought the innocent and the nearly-innocent into situations such as these when they had a mission or destiny to fulfill. He would not take unnecessary chances with beautiful people, such as Poppy. What could her mission be? Or was there no mission, it was just her destiny to see these atrocities. Maybe that was all there was to it: she just had to see the horrors of the world and report back to her people, in the hopes of saving them once the bleak world entered the Shire, as it was bound to.

But Poppy said she was not sure she would see this "Maladil". What could she be doing now? Was she to break off onto her own mission?

Questions, all Estelarion knew was questions. He had no answers to anything and, even after hearing about this Breelander, he only had more questions, not fewer.

~*~*~*~

Menelduliniel saw Estelarion's eyes go to a distant place. She always wondered what he thought of when he left this world, as he tended to do.

She turned back to Poppy.

"I do hope we depart soon," Menelduliniel said, "For we are losing time."

"Time for what?" Poppy asked.

"I-I...I do not rightly know," Menelduliniel said, furrowing her brow a bit, "Mithrandir is so secretive about the details of these missions of his, I never know what is going on until the quest is over and I have time to sort out what just happened. I have learned not to ask too many questions. Questions only trouble an already-troubled mind. And Mithrandir is certainly troubled. I do not know how he survives. He carries so much weight in his mind, yet he still manages to be so jovial. He always has a riddle for the complex mind and a smile for the unsteady, assuring all that he is in control."

Menelduliniel looked at Poppy, who had listened silently. The Hobbit merely nodded and smiled.

"You have traveled with Gandalf before, yes?" Poppy asked.

"Yes," Menelduliniel admitted, "A few times."

She smiled and turned, deciding that Estelarion had enough time to ponder whatever he was thinking of. Sure enough, just as she turned, Estelarion gave a small jerk, as if awaking from a dream.

"Welcome to Middle Earth," Menelduliniel greeted him in a joking voice, "I do hope that your returning journey was a pleasant one."

"It was," Estelarion said, playing along, "A fairly short one too, luckily."

"Where did you travel, my friend?" Menelduliniel asked, although she already knew how he would respond. He never told her what he thought.

"That is for me to know and for you to...never find out, if all goes well," Estelarion said, shrugging.

Menelduliniel rolled her eyes and turned to Poppy who had giggled a bit at the Elves' antics.

"If he ever trusts you enough to tell you where his mind goes when he does that, do be sure to break your dependable confidence and tell me, for I cannot figure out what he is thinking," Menelduliniel asked Poppy.

"Do not worry," Poppy responded, feigning complete honesty, "I shall."

"I swear you women tell each other everything," Estelarion said dejectedly, "You leave nothing to secrecy when you are with your own gender."

"And that is how we enjoy keeping it, my love," Menelduliniel said, both of them sharing a bit of a laugh.

[*Varda*]

Poppy answered Menelduliniel, appearing to be completely honest, but inside feeling differently. It was hardly her job to report to the members of the party what was going on, was it? And inside she felt that if she told the two Elves everything she heard, it just wouldn’t be right. If Gandalf wished to keep things to himself, it was his decision. It was tedious getting straight information out of him, but it was his choice.

Poppy hid her thoughts and laughed along with Menelduliniel at Estelarion’s view of them.

“We’re getting nearer, aren’t we?” she sighed. “Starting off at the Inn seems to have been so long ago, only a memory.”

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel gestured around her as she spoke, "But this is a vast world. Who can tell if we are nearing the Castle? Yes, though, it has been quite a while since we departed from that cozy, secure inn. And I imagine we are getting close. People seem to be a bit edgier. No, not edgier...more worried. It seems that more is going on now than we are aware of. Mithrandir is probably plotting something, as he is always doing so. This new Breelander also sees to have many people on edge."

Menelduliniel looked at the camp. Although almost everyone was trying to feign merriment, it was obvious that everyone was on edge, and many were worried nearly beyond sanity. She hoped that they would get moving soon, as she did not think she could take that tension for much longer without losing her mind.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Deep fluted calls of minstrel thrushes against a backdrop of trees content to keep silent gave way to the breezier tinkling notes of larks as Gandalf and Holly's path forked down the side road from close forest to open field. The closer they came to Castle Maladil, the more they saw healthy tall grasses weaving proudly under the wind's touch dissolve into brittle brown stubble, still tall, but hollow and mocking, or mourning, or just given up. Elegant delicate larks were replaced by struggling hardy sparrows, until finally only the presence of a stray cricket could be detected. After that, the sound of the wind alone, shuddering through the dead grass. *

* Gandalf strode on as though he saw or felt not the path, so intent was he on listening to the deepening silence. Holly strode alongside, sketchpad and ink-laden quill wielded as though they were shield and key. *

Remember now, * Gandalf said where the path became overgrown, * We'll be mapping not the perimeter of the buildings themselves, but the perimeter as outlined by where the farthest shadows fall, from wall or tower. For 'tis said that some of the castle ghosts have been seen walking over the castle grounds to this boundary of shadow, and never further. Thus Holly, you will mark the limits of our safety. Good to know, though we shall cross those limits soon enough.

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

[The Fifth]

Kenelm had fled the dungeons, to the privacy of the gardens. He sighed as he took a seat on a weary stone bench, running a finger along the surface of the mithril harp, yet feeling nothing. He played a song slowly on the instrument, softly murmuring to the wind. It answered back in a low howl, telling him that there were living people nearing the Castle, trespassing upon his father's land. Kenelm half-wondered if Maladil had heard the message the wind had brought, as well, but supposed he was already busy in his own matters. He stopped plucking the old strings, and stared blankly ahead of him, turning his head slightly to see if his ancient, although still sharp elven ears could capture any noise. There was a very faint rustle. Kenelm whispered, hush, my wind ..., and very soon the wind seemed to accept the command. He leant forward, and he was rewarded with an almost inaudible voice.

He silently stood, the wind beginning to pick up, and rustled the dead, hollow grasses, which he disliked, for even if he was dead, he wanted other things to live. He wondered what happened to the lush green grasses, full of flowers, which had wilted long ago as the hope and life of the Castle had wilted. But the stem still remained. Taking a hesitant glance at a slit-like window high above him, where Maladil and the rest probably still were, he stepped out of the gardens, towards the vast castle grounds, his back hunched over, his fair face looking at the lifelessness of the Castle and his hands, clenched upon the treasured harp.

He stood straight, and stopped, peering at whatever was walking along the borders of the grounds timidly. Glancing at the castle, he drew forth. He did not want the intruders to face the wrath of an already enraged Maladil. He walked even closer, until he could see the two more clearly. Kenelm was slightly interested ... an old man with a pointed hat and grey robes, along with a curly-haired child with a quill and parchment. He drew his harp, and played a melody, a mix of anguish and warning, singing the words to the odd couple:

Stuck within stone walls,
lurks a treasure beyond halls,
Thirteen spirits are caught
within a world of naught
To be here forever
to come out never,
is a fate worse than death.

Moss is growing,
the bitter winds blowing,
upon the stone halls,
where Life falls,
O Valinor take us!

By night we were slain
In the Castle our bodies lain,
By day we hide
The Castle inside,
to hold what lies within.

Trapped and wailing,
our years are failing,
the walls may crumble,
the windows stumble,
but We shall all be here.

[ January 25, 2003: Message edited by: The Fifth ]

[piosenniel]

‘For 'tis said that some of the castle ghosts have been seen walking over the castle grounds to this boundary of shadow, and never further . . .’

Holly peered sideways at the wizard as these words fell from his lips. Not a comforting thought, considering the main objective for the morrow would be entrance into the grounds themselves, and worse yet, the castle.

She chewed on the tip of her quill as she walked along, thinking about this statement. The feathers grew wet and matted as she ran her tongue against them, wondering if the ghosts could ‘only’ walk in the shadows cast by the castle.

‘I suppose we should start then by taking a look at the western side of the castle wall.’ she said, taking the soggy quill from her mouth. ‘There won’t be any shadow there, since what light is left to us will be shining against it as the Sun sets. There shouldn’t be too much shadow either on the north and south sides at this time of day. Last, we can draw the perimeter of the shadow extending from the east side – it should be at its longest.’

She thought for a moment. ‘Which means that tomorrow morning there will be no shadow reaching out to us as we enter the East gate to the castle grounds on that side of the building.’

They walked on, an idea coming into the Hobbit’s busy mind. ‘You know, Gandalf, you’re of a height. Why don’t you boost me up the side of the castle wall there on the west when we arrive? I’ve got some rope here in my pack should we need it. Perhaps my hands and feet can find some purchase on the stone.’

She nodded her head at this idea. ‘Yes, let’s give that a try. I can get a quick look at the layout of the western grounds within the wall and an idea of what lies on the west wall of the castle itself.’

Holly picked up the pace, eager now to see what she might spy out . . .

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Tomorrow morning, Holly? Oh, but none can say where any of us will be by then! For it's tonight after the sun has set when the company will approach the Castle and face Maladil. Yet the ghosts' movements will still be bound within the limits set by the farthest shadows that fall during daylight hours. Yes, I'll be glad to lift you as near the top of the wall as I may. In centuries past a rope would have proved useful. Now the wall crumbles so that it cannot be trusted to hold a rope fast. But the crumbling has provided handholds and footholds, as though waiting for light and nimble Hobbit-folk.

* So saying, Gandalf smiled encouragement and effortlessly boosted Holly slightly more than six feet. *

* From there, the Hobbit shinnied atop the 10-foot wall. Before her gaze lay an orchard. Carefully tended trees were beleaguered by bleak beige straw. Dead grass skewed here, towered there, mangled and bent where burdens had been dragged to three freshly dug graves. Two sets of footsteps inlaid the brownsward, veering off towards a pear tree, towards a gate. Set into the back castle wall were two entrances, each near a corner of the castle, yet not at the very corner. Between these entrances directly next to the back castle wall stood a vegetable garden long gone to seed. Holly was not able to see around to the side grounds of the castle from this particular vantage point. *

* Then her eyes widened. Hovering just above the weather-beaten stone bench in the center of the withered garden, gleaming in the falling sun, hung a silver-hued harp suspended in mid air. The strings moved as if by themselves. *

* A melancholy tune scattered thin to mingle with a murmur of nearby birch trees. Holly could only hear intermittent bits and pieces. * … "lurks a treasure beyond halls … , to come out never, … O Valinor take us! … By night we were slain … The Castle inside, … Trapped and wailing, …"

* Gandalf, unable to see over the wall but hearing the song in its entirety, lit the end of his staff and held it aloft, so that its circular glow could just be seen over the top of the wall. Lighting next a bowl of Southern Star, the wizard inhaled deeply and sent up within the frame of light a smoke ring shaped like The White Tree, Telperion, as it used to shine in Valinor. He then did likewise to create a likeness of its companion tree, The Song of Gold, Laurelin, and send this second image along with the first as a message to the harpist. *

[The Fifth]

Kenelm saw the hobbit's head peeping over the wall, staring wide-eyed as if she had seen a ... ghost. He stopped playing the harp; to the halfling it appeared the instrument stopped plucking its own strings. He stood up when he could see a glimmer of light coming from the wooden staff being held over the wall, then stood; to the hobbit it appeared the harp shifted upward in the air. The Ghost cautiously stepped towards the wall; to the hobbit it appeared the harp was floating forward, to her.

Looking up, he gazed upon the sign, first the silver Tree of the Moon, then next the golden Tree of the Sun. Though knowing that he could just walk through the wall and see the stranger up close, he stay put behind the wall, and sung in the language of elves, playing the harp to accompany it:

Pella i ailin,
orta Eldarinwa elen
I minya ana orta,
I minya ana lanta.

Pella alcar ëar,
nén mi litsë,
I mornië nornoro,
Ar lëo nornoro.
Imbë atta aldar,
I Anar ar i Isil,
Eldarinwa elen
orta.


He stopped, then seemed to wait for a reply from the wall-person.

[piosenniel]

It wasn’t an Elven star which rose between the two trees. It was Holly, entranced by the music and the fair voice, who now stood up on the crumbling west wall of the castle grounds. Her eyes opened wide and she reached toward the harp as if to bring the music closer. So lovely, yet so faint was the voice which reached her ears.

She leaned in closer to hear the words. 'This must be one of the ghosts!’ she murmured to herself, putting pen to paper. ‘I would put down these words, so melancholy . . .’ She began to sketch the orchard, its long shadowed fingers stretching eastward. Above the branches she wrote the words as they hung in the air against the rising moon.

Her feet moved closer to the inner edge of the wall. A mistake on her part, but understandable. The music drew her on.

She fell with a sharp intake of breath, landing in the tangles of the long abandoned vegetable garden. So silent in the shadow of the crumbling wall. Faintly she heard the voice of Gandalf beyond the wall.

Her pack had fallen beneath her, and a small voice called out. ‘Neek – Breek!’ She struggled up onto her extended arms. ‘Get off me, Holly! Let me out!’ Bird crawled from beneath the pack’s flap, and wriggled her antennae at the downed Hobbit.

‘Well, Holly. This is a fine mess you’ve gotten us into.’

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

[The Fifth]

Again the music halted as the player grew startled. The hobbit had fallen just next to him. But what was this? A small insect had crawled out, and Kenelm wondered if he heard it speak. Slowly, the spirit moved forwards, hugging the harp against his chest with one arm and reaching another towards the halfling, who so tempted his awakening curiousity. Kenelm knelt down, only a few inches away from the hobbit.

Holly must had seen him now, although he appeared faint; a fair and angelic elven being, with sad eyes and curtain of golden hair curled up on the floor, harp in arms, softly touching the hobbit's pack, and the strange neekerbreeker.

The ghost peered at the paper, the sketch of the orchard. He carefully lifted it up, and studied it a moment, before setting it next to the hobbit.

Kenelm murmured softly, 'Who are you ... and what do you seek .. ?' He drew back, looking at the ground, and the old tiles that crumbled apart, sprouting dead grasses and small bugs that crawled about. 'And who .. is the man with the staff?'

[piosenniel]

'Who are you ... and what do you seek .. ?' He drew back, looking at the ground, and the old tiles that crumbled apart, sprouting dead grasses and small bugs that crawled about. 'And who .. is the man with the staff?'

Holly could only make out part of his words, and then only if he looked straight at her, so that she could watch his mouth move as he spoke. He was beautiful. She reached out her hand to touch the side of his face, feeling only a small frisson of coolness as she neared it.

‘You have a lovely voice.’ she said. ‘Sorry to have disturbed your singing.’

Bird crawled up to her collar and now perched very near her ear. ‘Don’t say too much!’ she warned in a low voice. ‘Who knows who he might tell. Wouldn’t want old mad Maladil out here swinging his sword in our faces.’

Unheeding, Holly answered his question in part. ‘I’m Holly. A Hobbit from the Shire.’ She reached for her sketch pad and the drawing charcoal in her pack. ‘Who might you be?’ Her hand began hurriedly sketch him, his evanescent form back lit by moonlight . . .

[Belin]

Celumëomaryu slipped into the Butler's room to wedge the door shut, wondering vaguely where he had disappeared to. She was certain he wouldn't move it. The importance of the punishment of Anna and Calimiel seemed lost on him, but he did understand that Maladil was a bad enemy, and that Maladil wished it.

She walked slowly up the stairs again, finding little eagerness to return to the dungeon that she had made her own. She hoped the Butler would come to talk to her. Maybe there would be a chance at her own library again, at the window with the light that did not warm her but still reminded her of a time when she hadn't needed to watch it. If there was no body, and if she promised to help him with Maladil, perhaps he would prove amenable. She hadn't expected to miss it.

She reached the dungeon, and she stood silently as her prisoners spoke to each other, even when Anna gestured derisively at her. They were speaking, worrying, planning, playing, and she was standing outside watching them as she always had. Nothing had changed.

Nothing would ever change.

She did not move. She wondered briefly whether another attempt to mutilate the bodies would make any difference and decided against it, for the moment. It would simply seem petty to attack them for playing. After all, it was they who were imprisoned, and it was she who was free...

She sighed slightly, a sound that nobody would have heard even had a stranger and far more startling sound come from outside.

[The Fifth]

Kenelm gazed up at the hand as it moved to touch him, and he shifted to the right, setting his precious harp on the ground with a small noise. He sat down, fingertips picking slightly at the old floor. Hearing the quiet voice of the odd insect, he sighed, 'I do not intend on telling others ... unless you intend on plundering or destroying ... and do not say such things of my father ... he is busy in his own matters ...' Kenelm went silent for a while, setting a hand on the instrument.

He scooted slightly forward as the halfling's hand went away from him, then took out the pad of paper and charcoal, tilting his head slightly. He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his hands on them.

'I ... I am Kenelm ...' he spoke, his voice jumping as if he were losing hold of speech. The Ghost looked towards the narrow window high above, and hearing no shrieking, appeared relieved. The moon was nearing its fullness, filling the almost hollow form of Kenelm with its light, making him seem to glow with a silver beauty. The stars were, however, clouded over.

[piosenniel]

Bird twitched her antennae in irritation. Ghosts were as insufferable as Elves! Holly sat there entranced by his moony beauty. Damn the artist in her, she was trying to sketch him as he spoke to her! Bird glanced up at the dark window above them, and a chill passed through her.

She launched herself in a high arc from the Hobbit’s shoulder, her form changing to that of a small black and white bird. Over the wall she flew to where the wizard stood, useless as usual in her opinion. She landed with a squawk on the tip of his staff, fixing him with her beady black eye. ‘Well, Holly’s in there talking to some fair haired ghost with a harp. This was all your idea. How are you going to get her out?’

*********

Holly drew a quick series of charcoal sketches as the moon rose higher to illuminate the area. ‘Plunder and destroy, you say . . .’ she said as her hand moved over the paper. ‘It looks to me as if the castle is already falling down about you, and that you have been already plundered of your most precious treasure.’ He looked at her, his faint brow furrowed.

‘Your life, Kenelm. Someone has plundered it. Who will you inform that time marches through here, a rampant destroyer. And what use is it to lament the loss of a treasure you cannot steal back.’

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

[Gandalf_theGrey]

How shall I retrieve Holly from behind the castle wall, you ask? Perhaps my staff will come in handy, dear Bird. * Gandalf smiled and glanced at the jackdaw with gentle humor and an apologetic half-bow. With a supple poised wrist motion he lightly raised the staff on which Bird perched, angling the bottom towards the wall to poke around for secret doors. *

* Skeptically curious to see the outcome of the wizard's search, stifling an instinctive aggrieved call note, the skin changer fluttered up to settle atop Gandalf's hat. The two went the whole length of the back wall. Despite meticulous tapping, rapping, poking, and prodding with the staff, there was not the smallest hint of door or gate, hidden or otherwise, to be found. Bird dug her feet more tightly into folds of grey hat fabric as Gandalf shook his head. She sighed and somehow held her tongue as the old man muttered, "No good breaching the wall, not now." *

* Not giving up, Gandalf turned a corner. Lo and behold, there was a gate a little ways from the corner along the North wall, as plain as the nose on his face! As a matter of fact, the gate stood wide open. Gandalf strode through briskly, catching sight of Holly sketching and the nebulous transparent form of a young Elf-lad. *

* Gandalf nodded a greeting to the Hobbit artist. * How's the drawing coming along, Holly? What a relief you're unhurt from the tumble you took!

* Jostling from the wizard's nodding reminded Bird that staying where she was meant being noticed by ghostly eyes. She took wing again and clearing the castle wall, dipped out of sight. Too late, for the ghost now turned to Gandalf, asking "Why have you brought a crebain to my father's lands?" *

* Gandalf stroked his beard with a frown mild and not unkind. This wasn't how things were supposed to go, no, not at all. He inhaled an aromatic breath of Old Toby, then let the smoke drift up about him until he appeared as cloudy as Kenelm. At last Gandalf smiled an introduction to the noble half-Elven ghost lad. * That's no crebain, but a remarkable bird, a creature of uncommon strength and free-spiritedness. I see you've met my artist here. * He gestured towards Holly with his pipe. * As for me, I had wanted to meet you properly according to the poetic grace of your song, thus ... Elen síla lumenn' omentielvo. Please, call me Gandalf. * The wizard bowed a greeting to Kenelm. *

[ January 27, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

* That's no crebain, but a remarkable bird, a creature of uncommon strength and free-spiritedness. I see you've met my artist here. * He gestured towards Holly with his pipe. * As for me, I had wanted to meet you properly according to the poetic grace of your song, thus ... Elen síla lumenn' omentielvo. Please, call me Gandalf. * The wizard bowed a greeting to Kenelm. *

Kenelm glanced at the bird, but did not seem intent on trusting the odd old man, although the wizard bowed, and with such a polite Elvish greeting, and after staring at Gandalf a moment or to, returned the greeting.

He stood, leaving the harp on the floor, and asked softly, 'Who are you? A friend of this perian, coming here to disturb?' The spirit continued to peet at Gandalf. 'We do not wish to be disrupted ... for we are already enough, as it is ...'

Kenelm picked up the harp, and trailed towards the bench, taking a silent seat upon it, and murmuring a few words as he stared at the floor. He did not like this strange company, and he knew Maladil would not, either. Perhaps we would try to ignore them, make them leave, so that they would be in their twisted peace once more, as it had been for an Age. Yet he desired change, and wondered what it was like to be in Valinor ... but -- no, no, it was far too late for that. He was a ghost, bound to the land like a vassal to his Lord. So he went with the ignoring, and began to play to himself, attempting to rid himself of the two .. but the wizard, he seemed to be a patient one. But he would try. Kenelm swept his fingers deftly along the strings, singing softly of the spring and fall:

'Tall and green
Upwards the trees lean
Leaves full and fair,
a breeze in the air.

Blue birds sing,
their voices ring,
the wind calls free,
upon a hillock's knee,
The glittering of light is seen,
within leaves green,
within Sun's light,
from the fleeing of night.

A breath of cold,
and leaves turn gold,
Trunks frosted with snow,
cold autumn's glow.
Cold skies turn dark,
stiff goes the bark,
Layered with silver sheen,
no longer green,
the trees bend to touch the earth;
for no more is the spring mirth.'

[ January 28, 2003: Message edited by: The Fifth ]

[Susan Delgado]

Several hours of sitting and not moving much had recovered Anna's strength to nearly what it was when she'd first taken this body, so when she heard Kenelm's lovely voice wafting up from the garden, she had no trouble rising to her feet and approaching the window in the cell. She frowned. This was curious. She couldn't see Kenelm, but that was nothing; his usual perch was on the bench in the old vegeatble garden, not visible from here. But she could see something else: There was a figure in the orchard, no two figures, a small and a large. By the Valar, those were living folk! They didn't belong here! Forgetting for a moment that she was solid, she attempted to float through the wall to investigate. It didn't work, so she did the next best thing.

She glanced back at Calimiel, then beyond her to Celumëomaryu. The Elf was still watching, but perhaps not closely enough. She wandered back to Calimiel and tried as unobtrusively as she could to get her attention. The two returned to the window and watched the living beings for a quiet moment before Celumëomaryu interrupted them. In that moment, they determined that it was an old man and a child. Beyond that, they were lost. Why would an old man and a child come here? Perhaps they were, indeed, lost.

"What are you doing? Get away from there!"
Celumëomaryu, of course. Calimiel looked like she wanted to obey, and after a moment, Anna did too. She'd had enough of those @!$^*# attacks for one day.

Celumëomaryu glanced through the window at the scene below. What would she do?

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Susan Delgado ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* In answer to Kenelm's song, Gandalf spoke the following poem: *

Spring mirth turns into fall harvest
As watching sun changes each leaf
In sameness light sails away West
Dimmed leaves cling to branches in grief
A wind-song at duskfall awakens
Light borrowed shall refresh as rain
The leaves left for lost shall be shaken
And mirth shall spring forth once again.


My voice is not as clear as yours, fair Kenelm. I am called Mithrandir by some, Gandalf by others.

Oh! And I've nearly forgotten ... * Gandalf smiled, reached into a pouch, drew out three of the same metal rods resembling cattails that he handed round to the company, and presented the rods to Kenelm, son of Maladil, holding out the rods in the open, cupped palms of his hands. *

[ January 29, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[piosenniel]

'Tall and green ...
Leaves full and fair, ...
their voices ring, ...
The glittering of light ...
cold autumn's glow. ...
Cold skies turn dark, ...
no more is the spring mirth . . .

His voice was beginning to fade for her, and soon she could hear nothing but the sound of Gandalf’s conversation. Her eyes glanced up to where Bird had gone, hoping to catch sight of her friend. But, she could not find her anywhere.

Holly watched as Gandalf dipped into his pouch and gave the rods to the now unseen hands. It was growing darker and she was beginning to grow uneasy as the eastward reaching shadows grew longer. Her eyes swept to the gate on the north side by which the wizard had entered.

Taking her picture of Kenelm and the harp, she placed it carefully on the stone bench, and bowing once, went quickly out the gate. She ran, then, toward the path she and the wizard had come down, her heart pounding. Out of breath, she stopped and leaned against a slender rowan tree, her feet balancing on the out thrust root. She stood there, feeling her heart pound in her chest, as she rethought her desire to enter the castle grounds with the group. ‘Bird!’ she whispered. ‘Where have you gone?’

A single winged seed spun down before her face, fluttering like some child’s toy to the ground. ‘Right here, Holly.’ came the voice from the tree, whispery, like the wind through its leaves. ‘Mind stepping off my root? Feels like you’ve gotten a little heftier!’

The tree shifted, and Holly’s feet slipped from her perch, causing her to tumble unceremoniously into the dirt.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* In one hand Kenelm grasped the thin metal rods as though they were akin to his broken harpstrings, tilting his head at them as they dangled near to falling. Under his arm he secured the mithril harp, while in the other hand he held as a rolled-up scroll the portrait of himself and his cherished instrument that the curly-haired child had drawn. *

* Gandalf glanced after Holly. The Hobbit had disappeared through the gate into an impatient deepening twilight, swallowed by a too-eager silence. The fact that she was moving away from the accursed grounds of Laurëondo did not quiet his sense of foreboding. Gandalf bowed a reluctant farewell. * To use these rods, Kenelm son of Maladil, come out and meet us on our return this very night. Look for us outside the front gate. Best keep our secret, until then.

* Dinner was already half-over, but Bird, Holly and Gandalf each found a portion waiting for them of partridge and mushrooms with strawberries and blackberries on the side. *

* After dinner, Gandalf approached Andreth and drew forth from his pouch her book with its descriptions of the rooms of Laurëondo. * Keep this with you, Andreth. But first let me read another passage:

"GREAT HALL

Pass in Westwards through the Outer Entryway, turn left, then right into the Inner Courtyard. Turn right and walk to the center of the Inner Courtyard. Pass through the Inner Entry to the Great Hall.

The floor is of red marble tile with black borders to complement the walls of golden granite. Dozens of carven mahogony branches spiral upwards like ribbons tied in bows from the arches along the ceiling. From the center of the ceiling hangs a pine-cone shaped chandelier, as tall as an Elf, made of gold with crystal candle-holders. Torches light the walls.

There are two staircases going ... "

* But that was it. The page had been torn in half. Gandalf closed the tome and handed it to Andreth with a careful bow. *

* Then he addressed the assembled group. * The sun has set. It's time. Bards to the front, Hinura, Menelduliniel, Estelarion. Warriors and Rangers, Nardol, Volondil, Alearindu ready your weapons, though make no show of it. Poppy, Andreth, and Nardol towards the front near me, behind the musicians. Alearindu and Aislan in the middle. Volondil guarding in back, with Olo. Holly and Bird where you will, remembering as you may the boundaries of shadow earlier drawn, that you may guide the company up to it but not over ... for now. Horses and ponies, as you decide. And this order we're in can change depending on what we face and where each of us go. Candles and lanterns lit. And we're off to the Castle! Which bard will play and sing first now, to herald our approach?

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[tangerine]

Hinura rose from her long-finished meal, taking her lttle harp out of the protective covering of her bag. The tremble in her hands was so slight only Gandalf may have noticed it, as she gripped the harp tighter, moving towards the front of the group.

She took a long, deep breathe to steady herself, and began, walking forward all the time:

Ciamar a nì mi ‘n dannsa dìreach
Ciamar a nì mi ‘n ruidhle bòidheach
Ciamar a nì mi ‘n dannsa dìreach
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ ás bonn mo chòta

Ciamar a nì mi ‘n dannsa dìreach
Ciamar a nì mi ‘n ruidhle bòidheach
Ciamar a nì mi ‘n dannsa dìreach
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ ás bonn mo chòta


Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ a chuir air chlì mi
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ ás bonn mo chòta
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìne a chuir air chlì mi
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ ás bonn mo chòta

Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ a chuir air chlì mi
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ ás bonn mo chòta
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìne a chuir air chlì mi
Dh’fhalbh a’ phrìn’ ás bonn mo chòta

Slowing the festive pace, the tune smoothly changed from one into another:

Ó ì og ì ò
A Mhòrag 's na ho rò gheallaidh
Ó ì og ì ò

A Mhòrag bheag a' chùil riomhaich
Dheanainn-sa do chìr a cheannach

A Mhòrag bheag a' chùil dualaich
'S tric do luaidh a' tighinn air m'aire

Mis' amuigh air luing a' seòladh
'S mi gun dòigh air tighinn gu baile

An cuimhne leat an oidhche bha sinn
'S a' luing bhàin air bhàrr na mara

An oidhche sin a chaidh ar fuadach
Thànaig a' mhuir mhùr 'na gleannaibh.

Her voice then fell silent, though her harp still played, waiting for Menelduliniel and Estelarion to begin their own music.

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: tangerine ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Estelarion quickly lifted his flute to his mouth and gestured to Menelduliniel. Hinura joined into their Elvish song:

Ir'Ithil hant sílad
Am i'falas
Nîf tín síla na hann lost.
Percarach-en-gell
Na lhach benchaered
Geil sílal dannar
A u-mathin erui
Di i'celaid myrn
A u-mathin erui
U-mathin erui
Be i'celaid myrn
U-mathin erui
Luin a celin
I'amar na o menel
Hall in'duath gala
Di ben uial
Ir'ind lhossar
A i'naergon revia am an i'dhû
A u-mathin erui
Di i'celaid myrn
Sí di i'celaid myrn.

As the hope-filled song drew to a close, Hinura, Menelduliniel, and Estelarion grew silent. Menelduliniel wondered if the song was enough or whether Mithrandir would want them to sing again. She decided that she should remain quiet, however, for Mithrandir would tell them what he desired when the time came.

[ February 02, 2003: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]

[Bêthberry]

The elven melody hung in the air, echoing almost in rhythm with the bowing of cedar branches in the slight breeze. Bethberry smiled at the three--Estelarion, Hinura, Menelduliniel--for their song had indeed made her feel better, despite her feverishness.

She sipped the remainder of her tea slowly,unable to eat, as Holly came over to her.

"You are in no fit state to accompany us," said the hobbit.

Bethberry nodded. "You have the list of plants I gave you? You know what to look for?"

Holly nodded. "It is packed in amongst my drawings. I won't forget. Thank you for the list. It will help my own healing skills."

"Will you stay here? Can I get you a blanket? I don't like the idea of leaving you alone"

"I'll stay by the fire tonight. Wyrd will watch over me. In early morn, I will return to Sarn Ford. YOu need not worry about me. Wyrd will watch over me tonight and accompany me tomorrow. I will be fine. 'Tis you who must take care, Holly. And Bird. And the others. Watch over Nardol also and be prepared to give him civility at least instead of a sharp tongue."

Holly nodded.

"And one last thing, Holly. The wands which Gandalf distributed. Give mine to Nardol, please. I have not seen him, nor has he spoken to me since the healing ritual, but would like him to have them."

Holly looked as if she would question the request, but a raised eyebrow from Bethberry persuaded her to stop. She wrapped an extra blanket around the Old Forest healer, instead.

"Good-bye. Good luck," replied Bethberry, turning to lay down by the fire and closing her eyes. Out of the woods, without a call, Wyrd flew down to stand beside her. Tomorrow she would start a different path.

[ February 03, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[ February 03, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Faintly at first came the sound of harps, like clear stars spilling into a soft silver waterfall over tinkling-smooth pebbles. A voice flowing with honey-rich life raised a sprightly dance tune on the wind, propelling the music spinning and wheeling through windows broad-framed and slitted. An air slow and melancholy rippled up next, bidding its hearers remember where fate ought to have carried them in a white ship upon the Western Sea. A flute then joined the harps, and two Elvish voices joined the mortal one to offer its hearers a musical glow of shared light. *

* Anna, Calimiel, and Celumëomaryu heard. The Butler darted hurtling through walls towards the sound approaching the front gate, gasping once outside at the sight of the parading two files of twinkling candles and lanterns. Kenelm heard. For Maladil the music only filtered in as a backdrop for the insane restless rovings of malicious thought that haunted him and so he ignored it or failed to recognize it as anything new. Thus Maladil did not stir from where he'd flung himself brooding atop his bed, unaware or uncaring that he'd sank into what remained of his own shattered dust-laden skeleton. As for Halblung the man-at-arms, Lasrain the gardener, and Tella the cook, they heard, and dashed out to the front gate. *

* Among the approaching company, Menelduliniel, Nardol, and Gandalf could make out a dim white glow of blurred and featureless shapes, just at the edge of sight, phasing in and out, accompanied by a clammy chill. Aislan, Bird, Hinura, and Poppy saw nothing, but noticed a wan chill in the air. *

[Mithadan]

After Bethberry's healing ritual, Nardol had quietly, almost secretively, returned to the company. He had spoken little with anyone and had seemed to have been caught in a deep reverie from the perspective of the others who were generally delighted at his silence.

The events of the day leading up to the company's approach to the Castle had not captured Nardol's attention. He had merely sat near his horse, deep in thought. Asleep, some of the others had thought. But within him, a battle raged with no certain result; memories of his wife and son and their friends, both Elven and Mannish, vied with the pain of torture, betrayal and rejection.

Weariness and hatred of his anger sought to tip over his views of the world around him. And often through this battle, images of Andreth had appeared with her attempts to show him kindness and patience. Aislan showed admiration for Rustal and Olo had cared for the steed's injury without regard for Nardol's rudeness. Nardol bowed his head but the tears would not come.

Gandalf stood over him and cleared his throat. When the Elf looked up, Mithrandir smiled in a kindly fashion and said gently, "It is time."

So he walked with the wizard and the others towards the Castle. He felt, as a wind blowing into his face, the madness that resided there. But in some ways it was not at all different from what lay behind him save perhaps in degree. And he stood in between and shivered...

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel looked at the shapes, fairly confused at what they were. She looked at Estelarion, who did not seem to see any of the objects she saw. He was looking ahead with a fairly unenthusiastic face.

Menelduliniel looked. A few of the others appeared as though they saw the creatures, whetever they were. Poppy even seemed to see them.

Menelduliniel fell into step with Poppy, as she felt a companionship with this Hobbit on more than one level now...

[piosenniel]

Holly took the rods from Bethberry, and wishing her well one last time, ran to join the others. Bird, Olo, Volondil and Peri were ambling along at the rear of the rag tag procession, waiting for her. She slipped in between Bird and Peri, matching her pace to theirs.

Bird was talking low to the pony as Holly came up. ‘Those Elves and their insuffrable singing are giving me a headache!’ she complained. ‘Why can’t they ever walk along, quiet, like normal folk!’ Peri cast one large brown eye at her and made no comment. Holly poked her in the side with the rods Bethberry had given her and told her to lower her voice. ‘Gandalf asked them to sing,’ she said to the irritated shapechanger, ‘so I suppose it has something to do with our being safer if we go in under cover of song.’

‘Hmmph!’ came the laconic comment from Bird. She looked at the companions in front of her and at the castle looming ahead. ‘I hope you don’t intend to go into that place. I don’t care how much gold or treasure is in there – I didn’t like the looks of the grounds, and I like the looks of the castle even less.’ Holly and Bird had walked back to the encampment apart from Gandalf earlier in the evening, discussing the ill-fated mapping sortie. Neither of them had cared for the encounter with the ghost in the garden, and the figures moving behind the window just above the garden had put the hair up on the backs of their necks.

Bird shook her head as she watched the castle approaching. ‘We’ll go to one of the bigger Inns and run a game there, if we have to. You can do some tinkering, while Olo hires on as a stable hand. Volondil can be my . . . ahem, bodyguard.’ Holly and Olo rolled their eyes at this pronouncement, stifling a chuckle. Perhaps it was just a trick of moonlight and the torches, but the Ranger seemed to blush at the statement. It was Bird’s turn to poke Holly in the arm, and glare at her.

Holly’s attention was drawn to the three rods Bethberry had given her. ‘Shadows take them!' she swore. 'I promised her I’d do this for her.’ Excusing herself from the group, she ran up to the head of the procession, trying not to jostle anyone in her haste. Nardol was there, near Gandalf, and she tugged at his cloak until he stopped. ‘Begging your pardon, Sir Elf,’ she began, looking him directly in the eye, ‘but Bethberry asked me to give these to you. She is ill and won’t be coming with us.’ She did not wait for a reply, but placed the rods in his out stretched hand, and wishing him well, ran quickly back to her companions.

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

Now they had neared the Castle’s gate. She saw the others preparing to pass in and toward the main door, following the lead of Gandalf. Holly brought her companions to a halt, and motioned them to follow her to the right, northward along the east wall, and then left along the long north wall.

They stayed well beneath the cover of the surrounding trees until they came to the small, open gate just east of the western wall.

Peri they left among the protective covering of the woods. Silent as a ground mist they approached the darkened gate, and looking about, as carefully as they could, they went in toward the garden.

[ February 03, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]