The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - The Threat of the Trees: Discussion Thread

mark12_30 · 03-31-2003, 11:35 AM

Uh, the game is still locked, so I'll put this here for now. Once the game opens, I'll delete this copy.

First post:

The green-and-brown clad elf paced steadily across rock and stream and field, all the while eagerly studying the vast expanse of trees on his right-hand side. He really wanted to go through Fangorn Forest itself, but Songmaster's instructions had been clear, and LinGalad reluctantly circled the fringes of the forest and did not travel or sleep within it. He could not resist peering into the eaves, however, and occasionally stepping close to one of the more majestic, older trees.

He was weary of the open. He had been in the open since he left the very southernmost tip of Mirkwood, now Lasgalen; the RopeMaster had counselled him to avoid Lothlorien in order to make good speed, and he had obediently done so. He promised himself he would visit it on his way back home.

He longed for shady forest depths, and it irked and saddened him that he could not enjoy the ancient trees now passing by on his righthand side. As he marched through the long grass of Rohan around Fangorn, he sang, more to motivate his weary feet than anything else. Sometimes the trees in Fangorn rustled in the wind. Sometimes they rustled without a wind, and then he was glad he had heeded the Songmaster's warning, and not gone into the forest. LinGalad marched on for weary mile after mile, passing barren rocks and (to him) uninteresting hills and grass, and then he crested a large hill that jutted out from the southernmost roots of the Misty Mountains.

In the middle of Nan Curunir rose a glossy black tower, thrust high into the air, dark and forbidding, cold and austere, and ending in sharp horns at the top. LinGalad's heart sank, and he stood for a while, glumly studying the tower and the ring of stone. He cast one more sad glance at the much more interesting forest, gave his weapons and his pack a cursory check and resettled them in place, and with a heavy sigh, turned towards the tower.

As he went, he heard music, and his pace quickened steadily til he broke into a joyous run. A river! That improved things greatly. He let the lure of the river draw him well off of his earlier course, and came to its bank with the excuse that his water bottle needed refilling. He topped off the bottle, sorely tempted to bathe in the beautiful river, but he contented himself with washing his face and his hands. The river, he reminded himself, ran down to the ring of stone. At least it could keep him company. LinGalad resignedly turned and followed it, and sooner than he wanted to, he had arrived at Isengard.

[ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

03-31-2003, 11:35 AM	#31
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	Uh, the game is still locked, so I'll put this here for now. Once the game opens, I'll delete this copy. First post: The green-and-brown clad elf paced steadily across rock and stream and field, all the while eagerly studying the vast expanse of trees on his right-hand side. He really wanted to go through Fangorn Forest itself, but Songmaster's instructions had been clear, and LinGalad reluctantly circled the fringes of the forest and did not travel or sleep within it. He could not resist peering into the eaves, however, and occasionally stepping close to one of the more majestic, older trees. He was weary of the open. He had been in the open since he left the very southernmost tip of Mirkwood, now Lasgalen; the RopeMaster had counselled him to avoid Lothlorien in order to make good speed, and he had obediently done so. He promised himself he would visit it on his way back home. He longed for shady forest depths, and it irked and saddened him that he could not enjoy the ancient trees now passing by on his righthand side. As he marched through the long grass of Rohan around Fangorn, he sang, more to motivate his weary feet than anything else. Sometimes the trees in Fangorn rustled in the wind. Sometimes they rustled without a wind, and then he was glad he had heeded the Songmaster's warning, and not gone into the forest. LinGalad marched on for weary mile after mile, passing barren rocks and (to him) uninteresting hills and grass, and then he crested a large hill that jutted out from the southernmost roots of the Misty Mountains. In the middle of Nan Curunir rose a glossy black tower, thrust high into the air, dark and forbidding, cold and austere, and ending in sharp horns at the top. LinGalad's heart sank, and he stood for a while, glumly studying the tower and the ring of stone. He cast one more sad glance at the much more interesting forest, gave his weapons and his pack a cursory check and resettled them in place, and with a heavy sigh, turned towards the tower. As he went, he heard music, and his pace quickened steadily til he broke into a joyous run. A river! That improved things greatly. He let the lure of the river draw him well off of his earlier course, and came to its bank with the excuse that his water bottle needed refilling. He topped off the bottle, sorely tempted to bathe in the beautiful river, but he contented himself with washing his face and his hands. The river, he reminded himself, ran down to the ring of stone. At least it could keep him company. LinGalad resignedly turned and followed it, and sooner than he wanted to, he had arrived at Isengard. [ March 31, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ] __________________ ...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.