* Gandalf fought against the fear, but there was so much to think about. Impetuous Elves. A lumbering baby oliphaunt underfoot. The improbability of the party escaping and outrunning the wraith since some would be on horseback while others weren't and there was no large waterway to use as an alternative. His feelings of responsibility for having led everyone into danger by allowing them all to accompany him. Having camped so close to the Barrow Downs based on his decision. The troublesomely equivocal behavior of the horse from Mordor. Wanting to wear the Elven-ring Narya for comfort, but realizing that its power would likely only make matters worse. Wondering just how good his second-hand sword was, though at least it produced a comforting glow. The wraith itself, unstopped by fire and lightning ... *
* Gandalf took another swing at the black creature, forcing himself to concentrate on Bethberry's song. But being distracted, the sword fell short, grazing the fold of its cloak but doing no damage. *
[ June 25, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]
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