The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post

piosenniel · 02-08-2003, 03:39 AM

Some months earlier: Tuilérë, Year 12 of the Fourth Age

Bird's Post

(Somewhere in Far Harad)

In the heat of the day the dark shelter of the cave was a welcome refuge. But the desert could get cold at night, so the bandits appeared as shadowy lumps, wrapped in filthy skins or stolen blankets to keep out the chill.

A small black and silver neekerbreeker crept along the wall of the cavern, waving her antennae and finding the smallest cracks which she could cling to with her sharp, bristly feet. She gazed down at the sleeping forms, searching for the leader and finally spying him; closest to the banked fire, of course.

She knew that this excursion was a waste of time. Two days of following the bandits and eavesdropping on their tedious conversations had convinced her that they had no knowledge of the people that she sought. In fact, Bird was sure that no self-respecting Skin Changer would have dealings with these stupid, but very dangerous Men. Their speech and manner were little better than Orcs.

But she had decided to do a thorough search of the leader's pack before she abandoned this particular dead end. There might be something hidden there; a letter, another map, a piece of carving. Any scrap of evidence that these brigands might have some knowledge of her secret kin.

Bird flexed her back legs, preparing to leap the distance from the wall to the pack, when Pio's message hit her like a ton of bricks:

"Auntie Bird! Shire. Three months. The twins. Loendë, Midsummer’s day. Come!"

Bird's antennae straightened as if they had received an electric shock, and a throbbing pain stabbed into both temples. She gasped and lost her hold on the cave wall, falling ten feet down to the dirt floor and landing on her back, where she struggled to right herself, all six legs scrambling furiously in the air.

As she wrestled to right herself, struggling in her rigid carapace, she let loose a furious stream of curse-words in six languages, including her newly acquired stock of Haradian phrases. Then her legs stilled, and for the first time the importance of the message sank in.

"Midsummer's Day? Why, where has the time gone? I only have three months to make it back to the North Lands for the birth! You'd think she would have given me a little more advance notice. Now if I can only right myself and get out of this infernal den!"

Help came from an unexpected source, as a massive, sour smelling bandit rolled over in his sleep, his pockmarked face a mere few inches away from the struggling insect. He drew a massive breath, and Bird could feel her lightweight body being sucked closer to the massive green teeth and slack jaw of the brigand. Then after a short pause, he released a long, spray-filled, lip-flapping snore, that washed a fetid odor of garlic and rotten teeth over the neekerbreeker, and blew her all of six inches away.

The force of the bandit's breath flipped Bird over, and she stood on all six legs, gagging from the noxious fumes that engulfed her, but upright at last.

A few minutes later the little neekerbreeker stood at the mouth of the cave, her hard-shelled head and faceted eyes gazing up at the full, desert moon. Then the body of the insect shifted and melted like a sugar-candy cricket, and in less than a moment, a small black-and-white bird stood in its place.

Bird raised her wings, sprang into the air, and for a moment was silhouetted against the huge, golden moon. Then the shadow of the jackdaw disappeared, as it turned and headed North.

[ February 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

02-08-2003, 03:39 AM	#18
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Some months earlier: Tuilérë, Year 12 of the Fourth Age Bird's Post (Somewhere in Far Harad) In the heat of the day the dark shelter of the cave was a welcome refuge. But the desert could get cold at night, so the bandits appeared as shadowy lumps, wrapped in filthy skins or stolen blankets to keep out the chill. A small black and silver neekerbreeker crept along the wall of the cavern, waving her antennae and finding the smallest cracks which she could cling to with her sharp, bristly feet. She gazed down at the sleeping forms, searching for the leader and finally spying him; closest to the banked fire, of course. She knew that this excursion was a waste of time. Two days of following the bandits and eavesdropping on their tedious conversations had convinced her that they had no knowledge of the people that she sought. In fact, Bird was sure that no self-respecting Skin Changer would have dealings with these stupid, but very dangerous Men. Their speech and manner were little better than Orcs. But she had decided to do a thorough search of the leader's pack before she abandoned this particular dead end. There might be something hidden there; a letter, another map, a piece of carving. Any scrap of evidence that these brigands might have some knowledge of her secret kin. Bird flexed her back legs, preparing to leap the distance from the wall to the pack, when Pio's message hit her like a ton of bricks: "Auntie Bird! Shire. Three months. The twins. Loendë, Midsummer’s day. Come!" Bird's antennae straightened as if they had received an electric shock, and a throbbing pain stabbed into both temples. She gasped and lost her hold on the cave wall, falling ten feet down to the dirt floor and landing on her back, where she struggled to right herself, all six legs scrambling furiously in the air. As she wrestled to right herself, struggling in her rigid carapace, she let loose a furious stream of curse-words in six languages, including her newly acquired stock of Haradian phrases. Then her legs stilled, and for the first time the importance of the message sank in. "Midsummer's Day? Why, where has the time gone? I only have three months to make it back to the North Lands for the birth! You'd think she would have given me a little more advance notice. Now if I can only right myself and get out of this infernal den!" Help came from an unexpected source, as a massive, sour smelling bandit rolled over in his sleep, his pockmarked face a mere few inches away from the struggling insect. He drew a massive breath, and Bird could feel her lightweight body being sucked closer to the massive green teeth and slack jaw of the brigand. Then after a short pause, he released a long, spray-filled, lip-flapping snore, that washed a fetid odor of garlic and rotten teeth over the neekerbreeker, and blew her all of six inches away. The force of the bandit's breath flipped Bird over, and she stood on all six legs, gagging from the noxious fumes that engulfed her, but upright at last. A few minutes later the little neekerbreeker stood at the mouth of the cave, her hard-shelled head and faceted eyes gazing up at the full, desert moon. Then the body of the insect shifted and melted like a sugar-candy cricket, and in less than a moment, a small black-and-white bird stood in its place. Bird raised her wings, sprang into the air, and for a moment was silhouetted against the huge, golden moon. Then the shadow of the jackdaw disappeared, as it turned and headed North. [ February 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.