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Old 01-13-2012, 07:23 AM   #3
Pitchwife
Wight of the Old Forest
 
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Faramir son of Denethor slept uneasily that Night. After several hours of tossing and turning on his cot, he awoke from troubled dreams to a dream of awakening. It seemed to him that a bright, but mild light was shining through the curtain of the waterfall into the rock chamber, and a distant but clear voice spoke to him out of the light:

Trust not the face that is smiling -
Inside an enemy dwells,
Disguisèd and beguiling
By craft and Morgul spells;
But signs you shall be given
And truth you shall be shown:
In dreams the mask shall be riven
And the traitors shall be known.


"What you fear is true," the voice continued. "Three men of your company have been slain secretly, their bodies hidden, and replaced with servants of the Enemy. Men of your own race they are, but long seduced to the worship of Sauron: Black Númenóreans, disciples in the dark arts of the Necromancer. By sorcery they have been disguised in the likeness of your slain comrades, and their aim is to eradicate the Rangers of Ithilien, so that Sauron's servants may roam freely between Anduin and the Ephel Dúath. But do not despair! Your prayer has been heard, and you shall not be unaided in your need. Each Night you may ask for a dream about one of your comrades, and it shall be revealed to you whether that one be true or false. And by this you shall know that you have dreamt the truth: in death the glamour that is on them will fade, and their faces revert to their own features; and you will find each of them marked with the sign of the Lidless Eye."

* * *

Pithwivion had spent most of what was left of the evening talking with the other Rangers, as Lord Faramir had requested. All of them had been concerned and alarmed at the happenings of the day and the loss of so many comrades, and not a few had voiced suspicion of treachery; but none had stricken him as in mien or manner of speech unlike themselves. He realized it would not be easy to find the Enemy's spies this way.

After a few scant hours of sleep, he rose in the small hours of the Night when it was his turn to keep the watch and took his post on a high platform of rock overlooking the waterfall and the Forbidden Pool. The Ranger whom he relieved reported nothing amiss; apparently the Orcs had indeed lost their traces, and their refuge was still safe.

The Night was quiet and peaceful enough. There was no moon in the sky, but the stars shone clearly, their white light glittering on the water deep below him.

He had only sat there for about half an hour when suddenly he heard soft steps on the rock behind him, and turning round, he saw one of his comrades approaching him.

"What do you want?" Pithwivion demanded. "You should be sleeping; it is way too early for you to relieve me."

"Relieve you is indeed what we have come to do," said the other one. Two more figures appeared out of the dark and stepped up, one to each side of the first. "Relieve you of a task that lies too heavy on your shoulders."

"Did you think your nosing around would go unnoticed?" asked one of the newcomers in a mocking tone. "We thought we might better be rid of you before you become too much of a nuisance."

Pithwivion surged to his feet, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "It is you!" he cried. "You three are the spies of the Enemy!"

"Enemy only to those who oppose His rightful claim to rule all Middle-Earth," said the third. "The Great Eye looks kindly on those who bow to Him and worship Him. When our work here is done, He will reward us with riches beyond your wildest dreams."

Pithwivion drew his sword. The naked steel shone cold in the starlight. "Not while I am alive!"

"That can be amended," said the first with a sardonic smile and took a threatening step towards him. Pithwivion hewed at him, but the Black Númenórean lifted his hand and spoke a Word of Power that shattered the blade to splinters and made Pithwivion's tongue cleave to the roof of his mouth.

"And now," said the sorcerer, still smiling, "we shall see just how far we can push you."

The three moved closer and closer. Helpless and mute, Pithwivion retreated step by step until he stood on the brink of the flat rock. He couldn't even scream when they pushed him over and he fell, deep down to the jagged rocks in the shallow water...
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