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

[Gandalf_theGrey]

This thread is for the continuing adventures of those who have assembled to accompany Gandalf as he leaves the Prancing Pony. (Moridel, Meneli, Estelarion, Naaramare, Elenna and her oliphaunt ... oh my, this is going to be quite a challenge indeed, and Bethberry.) Along the road, we may well encounter various other people who might either join us, or otherwise provide a challenge to us.

[ June 18, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Elenna]

Elenna, extremely happy to be on the road again, walked up with Gandalf. Her horse, Celebdae, and Olorin the Oliphaunt walked behind her like obedient but oversized dogs. Occasionally, when she didn't seem to be paying either of them too much attention, she would feel a hard poke in the middle of her back from Olorin's trunk or Celebdae's nose. That was the signal to turn around and give the poker a hug.

"This is going to be a long road," Elenna commented to Gandalf after about the fiftieth time hugging the baby oliphaunt. "Where are we going, exactly?"

[Bêthberry]

Well, interesting for sure, laughed Bethberry, as she shifted her leather bag of herbs and plants to her other side, keeping it as far away from the oliphaunt's nose as possible, having already done this several times.

Perhaps little Olorin here thinks I'm playing hide and seek with my herbs, she said with a twinkling grin at her own expense.

[Naaramare]

Mithrandir's pointed comment about "adventure" aside, Naaramare felt better now than she had for a good while. Olorin the Oliphaunt kept making her giggle, for all the sound was horrifically undignified and it wasn't really fair.

"Do you think the little thing likes attention much, Elenna?" she asked, after another pause to give the oliphaunt a hug.

[Feadolena Nolfare]

"Ah, where are my manners? I had become so accustomed to 'Hedgemaid' that I'd forgotten I had any other name," Moridel smiled grimly, "But I am Moridel of the Dunedain. I hope to protect Eriador from evil, but thus far I'm not at all sure this is the best way to do it." Moridel glanced back at the giddy Elves and Oliphaunt. "'Tis passing strange, the Elves I am acquainted with are not half so boisterous." She sighed deeply, wishing for a moment for thought.

"Well, I suppose a bit of gaiety will do naught wrong for my spirits... even the most dedicated cannot be on alert every moment. I do wonder what brings so many Elves here at once, though. There's only one way to find out," Moridel finished, shifting her pack to her other shoulder and dropping back to talk to the nearest Elf.

She gave a deep nod, loose hair falling into her face, and addressed the Elf. "Mae govannen! What brings a host of your fair folk so far afield? Might aught be amiss in Eriador?" Most Men would not meet the gaze of an Elf, but Moridel's grey eyes looked steadily into the lamplike ones of the Elf.

[VanimaEdhel]

Meneli rides next to Moridel. When Moridel addressed her, she looked right back into Moridel's eyes.

"Aaye, Ranger. I am Menelduliniel and I come here of my own free will...somewhat. 'Tis a long, long sad tale, and 'tis not for me to burden you with. Too many have been saddened by my tale in time. So...what is your name, Ranger? And what brings you around these parts?"

[Feadolena Nolfare]

"I am Moridel, of the Dunedain. I seek only to protect Eriador," she said, taut lines appearing around her eyes. "This has been my pride and duty for many a long year, while evil creatures wax and our numbers wane. My life is one of many deeds and thoughts, yet little hope. Unless there is a way I do not see, Sauron's probing fingers shall find their way around the necks of the Dunedain ere long." Moridel's eyes narrowed, though her gaze held steady and she flinched not from this conviction, for it had lulled her to sleep each night and flavoured her every meal before many were aware of Sauron's might.

"But that is neither here nor there... I would know why there is such a gathering of Elves here, and whether their mission is also your own, if you are at leisure to share such with me. The life of the Fair Folk is a pleasant one; I have spent many sweet hours in their halls. Were I one, I think I should have little desire to leave those halls, though Eriador and her folk are dear indeed to me."

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel smiles at the Ranger, "They all have separate reasons from me for being here. Mine is to serve...exile I believe is the word. Exile for loving the wrong man. King Thranduil may be just, but he is not kind to those that he believes to have crossed him. Crossing Thranduil, I guess, is loving his son when Thranduil thinks of you as no more than a silly common Elf. And: I killed my old teacher...avenging the death of my friends, which she caused. Thranduil liked that trainer...but she was evil. She would have killed many more if I had let her. So: I was forced to flee...I doubt any of the others had the same experience. I only wish I knew how Legolas felt. I'm doing all this in the name of love for him, but he's off doing who knows what, so: I cannot ask him..."

Meneli sighed and looked deep into the Ranger's eyes.

[Naaramare]

Naaramare followed Meneli at a few paces distant and greeted the Ranger with a smile.

"What brings us here?" she mused aloud. "Entertainment, I suppose, distraction--selfish seeking, for me. Nothing so noble as protection of others."

Realizing how much like mockery that had to sound, she flushed. It came to her mind that she didn't used to be so awkward as this with language . . .but she could not remember how she knew, nor how she had been before.

No! No distractions of self-pity!

"I meant no offense," she hastened to add. "I meant what I said in honesty."

(OOC: Feadolena, I am amused. :: points to the name of her blog and your site-clique-thing: [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

[ June 18, 2002: Message edited by: Naaramare ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

To answer Elenna's earlier question, * Gandalf said to the group, * where we're going exactly is the city of Tharbad. As you can see, we're taking a road called Andrath Greenway. The road's also known as South Greenway, logical since we're travelling South from Bree.

Now, we're not going directly to Tharbad. There'll be a fork in the road that veers off to the West and just slightly North. We'll follow this fork up to the Baranduin River, to a place called Sarn Ford. At Sarn Ford, I would like to confer with any Rangers we find there, just myself and the Hedgemaiden Moridel, and perhaps Bethberry. It's business that concerns Men rather than Elves, simply having to do with local safety.

If we make good time today, we'll be able to camp a good safe distance away from the Barrow Downs for the night.

[ June 19, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Bêthberry]

We keep to the Greenway, Gandalf? No going through the Old Forest? asked Bethberry as she hitched her pack and blanket roll higher on her back, under her violet cloak and looked over this unusual group of elves, wondering what she would learn of them on this journey.

Bethberry was not awed by the grandeur of elves as others were; nor did she feel contentment under their serenity. More often she felt a great sadness for them that with all their abilities they nonetheless seemed so filled with a longing for the past that they were unable to enjoy the present. Yet Gandalf had a knack for uncovering talent where it oft was hid.

Are you wanting us to move with stealth or do you want us to make our way known to all?

[ June 19, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf laughed outright, with good humor. * [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] Stealth, Bethberry? With a baby oliphaunt and all the rest of our merry band? Why, easier to disguise ourselves as an entertainment troupe of circus performers ... minstrels, dancers, singers, and magician. We're as conspicuous and noisy as a flock of crows descending on a cornfield!

As to passing through the Old Forest, it would be slower going even though a shortcut. Taking the most direct route, we'd be apt to disturb what peace belongs to the Barrows. But if any here would like to voice a strong preference for going through the Old Forest while skirting the Barrows, by all means you're welcome to speak. * looks around at the assembled travelers for their views *

[Feadolena Nolfare]

Moridel spoke up at once. "I agree with Gandalf," she said, "Thanks to the merry dwellers of the Old Forest," she cast an appreciative glance at Bethberry, "I think that evil would not dare to come there, or if it did, it would not stay long. Nay, 'twould be better to press on. Also, I am anxious to see what my colleagues at Tharbad have discovered. And I think none here are anxious to walk straight into the Barrow of a Wight," (ooc: haha! yeah right)

While waiting for the group to make its decision, she turned back to Naaramare. "No worries, I make a habit of taking things literally, unless there is good reason to do otherwise. I'd not be here today were it not for that... the Wild is not friendly to doubt and symbolism. I am glad, however, that my vigilance pays in the leisure of others. But for me, there shall be no rest 'till Day's End."

Menelduliniel's story, however, was a more immediate disturbance. Moridel would be glad to learn more of what passed in Mirkwood, as she had not been that way herself for a very long while. "Ah, milady, I knew that bad would come of Thranduil's notorious stiff neck! His son, though, hmm... I have not seen Thranduil's third son since well-nigh my own childhood! Yet in the years of my people I am more aged than he, now. Still, with all Thraduil's stubbornness, I know not how he would let any killing of Elves go on in his realm, save by orcs or other Dark creatures. But you say there is one such in his service... this is disturbing indeed. For in all my years I have never heard of one Elf killing another accidentally, nay, 'twould be all but impossible! I cannot think but that this trainer you speak of is somehow warped into the service of evil... I wonder if there is aught I may do to better this matter..."

ooc: @naaramare- oh, indeed! that has always been my fave Quenya line *points to doom-and-gloomy RPG character* hm, this warrants a visit to said blog... [img]smilies/wink.gif[/img]

[ June 19, 2002: Message edited by: Feadolena Nolfare ]

[Elenna]

"Well, I would like some adventure..." said Elenna uncertainly. "But I also have to think about Olorin. I don't want to put him in too much danger while he is still so little."

"Little?" Naamare asked incredulously. "He weighs more than I do!"

"Relatively little, then"

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry nodded at Moridel. You are right. The Wild must indeed be treated with respect, for its ways and means are quite unique and can teach much.

I'm glad you saw the humour of my suggestion, Gandalf. It seems the best recourse at the moment, ... said Bethberry, smiling and moving her bag of herbs yet again and scratching Olorin's trunk absent-mindedly but affectionately.

Perhaps 'young' is what you meant, Elenna? Have you enough food for this fellow or must he forage?

[Naaramare]

"Which brings up another point," Naaramare said, grinning. "What are you going to do when Olorin here reaches his full size? It might make travelling a little difficult.

"As for Thranduil, he's always had a stiff neck, since before he was even grown . . . " Now how do I know that? she asked herself, trailing off, but the ghost of a memory had fled, leaving her to sigh in frustration.

(OOC: Hehehe. Fea, thanks for the comment. I think I joined your clique, but I have to wait until my layout person adds it to my coding . . . siiigh.)

[VanimaEdhel]

Meneli just sort of goes along on Salkadome, her horse, closing her eyes, letting her horse follow the others. She listens, for she had keen hearing, but keeps her eyes closed, thinking and meditating.

She listens to the conversation and laughter around her...

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* As day's shadows painted an evening landscape, the company stopped to make camp. They were just South of the Barrow Downs and the South Downs. If Gandalf had been journeying alone, he would have happily put more distance between himself and these mounds. As it was, there was a practical reason to stop: To give the group enough time to find food, water, and shelter while there was still some sun shining pale-gold on the gentle slopes straightening into flat fields of high grass and brushy thickets. *

* There were no Inns in sight. It looked like everyone would be in for a night of songs, laughter, oliphaunt-hugging, and ghost stories around a campfire. The Barrow Downs would add the charming pall of its own eerie atmosphere to the stories by being a little too close for comfort, in Gandalf's estimation. *

* Gandalf now spoke: * To those of you who've brought no food or water, I'll make you an offer. Go, scrounge what herbs you may, hunt what meat you can, fetch me some water ... you DID bring waterskins, I imagine? Well anyways. Bring back what you can find to make a meal. I've got two small kettles. We can combine part of my rations with what you bring me, and share the result in a soup or stew in one kettle. In the other kettle, we'll boil a tea from what herbs you find and water you fetch. Meanwhile, I'll start a fire and help set up some lean-tos.

[Bêthberry]

Well, Gandalf, I had expected to be hiking alone looking for my herbs and medicinal plants, but I can share some of my white bread and honeycomb. Let me leave my packs here with you and see what I can forage.

Bethberry emptied her waterskin into one of Gandalf's pots and took it and several empty sacks with her into the high grasses, walking towards the thickets. Some time later, she returned, her arms laden and sacks full.

Sorry for taking so long, but I think we shall feast nicely for my labours. I went looking first for a stream and found one running deeply between two heavily brambled slopes. I was in time to see a fox attack a badger sett, killing three cubs. I whistled for Wyrd, who drove off the fox, whose hasty departure left one of the dead cubs for us. I've never eaten badger, but stew does wonderful things to all manner of meat. I also found a fleshy root of wild arum, some turnips, and even bush basil and leeks for flavouring.

Bethberry put the badger on a flat, metal plate from her pack and then commenced to open the other sacks.

Who knows how to skin a badger so to avoid breaking the musk gland? Oh, and when I went to fill my waterskin I found some wild morels for the stew and some lemon verbena for tea. The brambles were full of ripe wildberries, so I helped myself to several handfuls of those, too. I don't think we'll go hungry tonight, but let's hope our full bellies don't make us complacent about watching for any trouble.

[ June 20, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Feadolena Nolfare]

Moridel half-smiled contentedly, leaning back amongst the gnarled roots of an old mulberry tree (ooc: Hi Birdie!). She opened her satchel and tossed a cloth-wrapped loaf and hunk of cheese towards the campfire circle. While waiting for Bethberry to return, Moridel toasted a bit of cheese on a stick over the fire, and had just popped it into her mouth when Bethberry began to wonder about skinning the badger.

"Here... let me help," Moridel offered, drawing an enamelled knife from one boot and scrambling over. She deftly cut out the musk gland, and tossed it over her shoulder into the woods. She quickly proceeded to skin the rest of the badger, and cut it into pieces for use in the stew.

"A successful hunt indeed, and not, I think, all by chance," she said to Bethberry, while skinning. "You seem to know the ways of the forest well. Tell me, from whence came your training? For I know of none from the Old Forest save yourself and Iarwain, and I have never known him to take on apprentices. Yet your forest-craft is much like his: in nature you both see the joy of the present, rather than the light of the past or the shadow of the future. I think we all could learn much from that, myself not least."

Moridel gazed at the merry Bethberry steadily, yet it was not a piercing gaze. Rather, after the manner of the Elves, she seemed to be looking straight through her, exchanging without words the thoughts of the heart.

ooc: Birdie, if you like, you can enter as the mulberry tree [img]smilies/wink.gif[/img]

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel smiles, "Mithrandir! You underestimate me! I am always prepared!"

She puts her pack down and takes out a pack from within her pack. She opens it up and takes out a small leaf-wrapped cake of lembas. She offers some to Estelarion, who enthusiastically takes some. She offers it to the others around her, getting some takers. She then pulls out a rather large canteen, filled with water.

"I filled it in last night at the Prancing Pony," Meneli explained.

She takes a drink, and gives some to Estelarion, and offers it to anyone else who wants. She then sits down and eats.

When Meneli is done, she stands up and stretches, "Now what should I do, Mithrandir? Anything you need me to do?"

"Wait for me!" Estelarion said, quickly finishing his lembas.

The two stand up and look around, seeing what needs to be done.

Eventually, both go into the woods together to gather firewood.

They come back together as well, arms full of dry wood.

"Do not worry! We were careful!" Estelarion exclaimed cheerily. Estelarion greatly eased Meneli...he took her mind off of life. The only problem was, he reminded her so much of her love for another...but, he still cheered her up. She laughed at his zealous nature, and kneeled down to start a fire.

After the fire was started, Menelduliniel took out her bedding and put it near to the fire. She sat down on top of it and took out her book to read. Estelarion settled his things next to Meneli and just sat, staring at the fire.

"Ai, too bad my heart belongs to another," Meneli thought, "I could reall fall in love with Estelarion...and he with me, I believe."

She laughed aloud at this thought. It was the first time she had thought a frivolous thought like this in some time.

She smiled to herself and continued to read her book, still with her ears on the alert for nearby Orcs or Uruk-Hai.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf made sure to thank Bethberry profusely for her offering of bread, honeycomb, water, badger, turnips, wildberries, and spices. Bethberry could always be counted on for the very best in the way of preparing a satisfyingly earthy feast. The wizard had winced slightly at the Hedgemaiden's words about seeing shadows in the future ... admitting inwardly that he saw himself in these words. Gandalf then laughed good-humoredly at Menelduliniel's lembas ... he had half hoped and half expected that she would indeed carry that wonderfully refreshing delicate Elven food. *

* Menelduliniel had taken the First Watch, along with Moridel the Hedgemaiden. Everyone else lay sleeping, with the two horses and baby oliphaunt also settled in for the night. She heard no sign of Orc or Uruk-Hai ... but she felt something oddly out of place. A certain coldness crept near the fire, and all at once, something unseen had put the fire out. Danger hung in the air, which the Elf sensed as though a thin film of oily murk covered the stars and dimmed their shining. *

[ June 20, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

Soft hoofbeats are heard and soon stop, and through the darkness a figure on a horse may be seen, and the faint glint of silver. The figure unmounts the horse..

[Naaramare]

The sound of hoofbeats woke Naaramare out of a dream wherein she seemed to be walking through a thousand doorways in a long hall, and each doorway lead only to a new hall, lined with mirrors and tinsle, until she was hopelessly lost.

At first the sound seemed to be part of the dream, echoing through the reflective space that surrounded her, until they grew loud enough to break through her sleep.

She sat up, startled and forgetful, saying "Where am I?" aloud.

[Birdland]

Birdie had wakened from a sound sleep to find a Ranger using her as a backrest. Normally sleeping in Ent form was the safest way to spend the night in these parts. Or any parts, for that matter. It was also an amazingly restful sleep, considering it was spent standing up.

But these things would happen. A lonely traveler would camp under her canopy, or a wild forest creature would snuggle down between her roots. It mattered little to Birdie. She would remain quiet, perhaps catch a bit of interesting "road-talk" from the travelers, and then go back to sleep until the intruders had woke and gone their way.

But this was not some stray refugee or peddler. This was a Ranger! And surrounding the ranger were Elves, and Men, Horses and...and...what in Arda was that thing! All looked very well fed and well armed.

"Plague and fire follow them!" thought Birdie to herself. It was not a curse, just a simple statement of fact. Birdie spent most of her time avoiding well-armed bands of any stripe these days, as did most of the common-folk of Middle Earth. To be surrounded by these warriors made her freeze in fear. Warriors drew more warriors. It was as certain as carrion drawing flies.

Suddenly, the fire went out, and the air grew chill with menace. The Elf on watch stiffened and drew her sword.

"Oh, I knew it! I knew it!" Thought Birdie frantically. "Now how do I get out of this?"

[The Fifth]

The figure approaches closer, and halts silently; yet an air of evil, a soft aura of fear radiates out. The faint glitter of eyes can be seen underneath its hood, but not matching the glint of the blade of the weapon it holds. The horse waits patiently, and the figure looks around and observes, pointing the wicked sword up, obstructing part of its unseen face. However, looking does not do much good as everything it sees is badly blurred, so it sniffs the air, detecting the scent of the Quendi, Man, horse, and something it cannot identify.

[Feadolena Nolfare]

"Elbereth Gilthoniel..." Moridel muttered under her breath upon seeing the dark-cloaked figure stalking towards the campfire.

By now, there were none in the company who were not awake to some extent, such was the pall of fear cast by this thing. Moridel tasted the metallic air. There was no doubt in her mind what this was: the terror was too great for that, and the way in which the creature abandoned stealth, knowing it was of no avail.

Forewarned is forearmed, so they say, yet what amount of warning can avail against such an enemy? Ah, I would that more of my people were here... Aragorn, perhaps, for he has seen more of wraiths than ever I have. Yet I have had my fair share of brushes with them, though their unbridled wrath is not something to be dared if any avoiding is possible.

Moridel's eyes never left the figure, as it advanced smoothly towards them. It scents the air! Oh, Varda, what is to be done?

Yet, while she focused on how to deal with this threat, in the back of her mind Moridel was thinking something quite different. What manner of wraith, this? And why does it come? The terror it radiates seems not great enough to be Ulairi, unless it were the least of them, perhaps. Does it come from the Downs, I wonder? Yes, that must be it. I wonder what this wight is doing out of its barrow? If our threat were so great, it would not dare to venture forth, yet if we were of no account, it surely would not trifle with us. Some great need must draw it, to attack such a company openly and far from its barrow. Yes, some very great need indeed...

Moridel fingered her sword, hidden beneath her cloak, and stayed in a slumped position to mimic sleep. She dared not move. I must wait, and see if the wraith's actions betray aught of its motives...

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Gandalf stirred in his sleep, like ashes probed by the touch of a cold breath of moldy wind. Fire's gone out, he thought to himself. Sensing something, he removed the Elven Ring from his finger, unseen by anyone, and carefully, silently, slipped it for safekeeping into a pouch he carried. He'd been sleeping with his staff at his side, now he reached out for the staff while looking to see how close the Black Presence had come during the time he'd spent gaining consciousness and fumbling in the dark with the pouch. *

[The Fifth]

The figure stands still as a statue, the only movement is the sword slowly pointing downwards. It seems to be deciding whether to strike or not, and it drifts towards the one with the staff; the creature seems to detect its prescence. The aura of fear calms a bit, the hooded one does not want to wake everyone up.

[Cimmerian]

Kewl walked out from the Bar and followed the group that had left earlier. He vaguely heard of a quest... a quest for what? Treasure, gold, jewels.. a dwarf had to ge involved. So he gambolled along at a safe distance.

Where would these creatures lead him to?

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry lay still, hearing the muffled movements of the others and knowing that some fell creature disturbed their thoughts even as she was untouched. This creature was scenting something.

Very well, thought Bethberry, let it work harder for what or whom it seeks.

She let out a low caw-ca-ca-chuck, distorted as if it came from the thicket and shortly Wyrd flew into the camp, not in a swift dive but lazily, as if searching. He flew around to the edge where the remains of dinner had been buried and picked through the dirt with his beak. Finding the badger's musk gland, he caught it in his claws, rapidly ascended high above the camp, and then circled back, crying as if challenging any hawk or other falcon. Then, diving suddenly, he dropped the gland by the fell creature. A heady, musky odour permeated the site, like a heavy fog masking the ground.

Bethberry wondered if anyone would remember the song she had sung for Moridel to explain how she came by her forest lore.

By that pool long ago
I bid a sad farewell,
To wander wide and far ahome.
I seek my mother's gladsome songs
throughout this Middle Earth.
Her voice untimely silenced be,
Yet still can mortal heart set free:
'O wind on the waterfall and the leaves' laughter,'
May the pure clear River spirit
Mellow time's disaster.

[The Fifth]

The figure turned its head at the cawing, the heavy musk blocked its scent. Giving out a low cry, it backs off for a moment.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* As the dark form turned its distracted head, Gandalf rose to a crouching position. Picking up a piece of firewood, he lit one end ablaze with his staff and hurled it at the shape, catching its cloak alight with a smoky hiss. *

[Birdland]

Birdie let out an unintentioned gag-and-giggle at the same time, then froze into her best tree-like imitation, hoping no one had heard.

"Badger musk!" she thought, "If only all wars were fought that way on Middle Earth. Oh, that smell! It's making my eyes water!"

Then she saw the robed, white-bearded Man pick up a lighted brand from the fire and advance upon the hooded specter. He hurled the brand, and she watched in horror as the cloak surrounding the figure turned to smoke and licking flames. Things were getting serious again.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel rose when she first saw the black figure, and climbed into a tree before it could see her. She looked down as it approached. She went over to the tree right over it, and followed it in the trees. Something told her not to attack this creature (yes, Fifth: you are a creature [img]smilies/tongue.gif[/img] )

She looks down at Mithrandir, who seems to see her, and looks at him questioningly for instructions...

[The Fifth]

The creature (hee hee) stood there, in an inferno, and raised its sword, emitting a horrible screech that pierced the air. It backed off just a bit in a defensive position, ready to flee as the shriek rings in the air, definately waking everyone up.

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel, surprised by the shriek, lost her balance and fell from the tree. She grabbed onto the branch as she fell, and stayed there, clinging to the branch.

"Ummm...a little help?" Meneli called, not caring if the "creature" saw her anymore.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* The trouble for Menelduliniel was, the branch she was hanging on was right overtop the burning creature, and the branch, being weak to start with, had chosen this moment to crack under the Elf's weight. If she were to fall just now, that would be the end of her. *

* Gandalf ignited another piece of firewood. Brandishing it like a torch, he strode steadily forward advancing on the wraith, to try to get it to move away from the tree Menelduliniel was clinging to. *

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

[The Fifth]

The wraith was completely engulfed in flames, these embers starting to die down as it is almost done feasting on the black fabric. It cried out again, and held onto the blade, moving backwards only an inch or two. Anything it touches may ignite.

[Naaramare]

Terrified, Naaramare tried to keep herself in the shadows. The irony of her name in this situation did not escape her, but the burning wraith terrified her.

The sight of Meneli clinging to the tree branch terrified her more, though. They needed to get the . . .thing away from underneath that branch!

Without thinking, she found a stone and threw it at the burning thing, hoping to do <i>some</i> sort of good.