[Ithaeliel]

As the company began to head into the cold, looming mountains, everyone seemed a little more tense than they had been before. They all seemed to be grasping the magnitude of what they were undertaking now, and the trek through the mountains wasn’t about to do much more good for their morale. Kalir was fearful of not being able to make it through, but Endereth was constantly behind him, giving him encouragement. “You are the hero of your land in these times,” she told him, “and you are valuable to us as well. These mountains will be no match for you, Kalir,” she jested. Looking ahead, she saw Radagast moving steadily upward while a bird chattered on his shoulder. The Maiar listened intently as he led the company onward. Calentoliel ran up beside Ender. “What do you think it’s saying?” she whispered.

Ender watched the wizard for a moment more as the bird began to change its twittering to a seemingly more urgent tone. Radagast’s expression and stance did not change, however. The ranger sighed. “It’s probably telling the wizard the rest of its tale. Birds do observe much more than one might expect, and this one has obviously seen much. Though,” she added, “I would advise anyone here not to ask Radagast what the bird has told him. He’ll explain when he believes we are ready to hear it.” The bird flew away almost as soon as Endereth had finished her sentence. Calentoliel, understanding her friend completely, fell silent.

The company trudged on over the mountain, the humans growing ever more tired, and the elves ever more irritated. At one point Ajada called for a break. “This trek is so utterly dull that I have no more to write about!”

LinGalad climbed nimbly upon a boulder to sit as his eyes caught a flash of the sun. Turning his head back in the direction they had come from, the elf’s expression changed to one of wonder. “Feast thine eyes upon the view, my friends,” he said. “We’ve come quite far over the timberline.”

All heads in the company turned in unison to see a vast stretch of green treetops. As one turned their gaze southward, there could be seen a spire of blackest obsidian surrounded by small, cheery-seeming villages, while several miles away northeast rested a large and solitary group of shorter, darker trees. They seemed to leave a trail of blackened earth behind them.

“Huorns,” muttered Avery darkly. “Scourge of the forest and of Isengard.”

“No; all these events are not the fault of the Huorns,” Endereth replied calmly. “There is a greater force behind their wrongdoings, I’m sure of it. They would not act this way of their own accord.”

[ June 16, 2003: Message edited by: Ithaeliel ]