View Single Post
Old 01-16-2004, 04:04 PM   #55
Mithadan
Spirit of Mist
 
Join Date: Jul 2000
Location: Tol Eressea
Posts: 3,310
Mithadan is a guest at the Prancing Pony.Mithadan is a guest at the Prancing Pony.
Sting

Baran smiled broadly. "Well now," he said. "You are hasty, aren't you. I told you why I was seeking Bird while we were at the Inn. I was hoping to find word about the Maenwaith from her. It has been a long time since I left the lands of the Beornings, nearly seven years. I passed over the Misty Mountains, where I discovered that Orcs and Trolls yet live, though they are a bit more shy than they used to be." He grinned in an almost feral fashion at the memory.

"Then I wandered for some time in the land known as Eriador, where I found no sign of Bird or my distant kin. Then I eventually passed into the north where I came upon The Shire, the home of the renowned Bilbo Baggins. It was there that I found the Green Dragon Inn and at last had news of Bird at least. News that was years old, but at least I knew that she travelled to Gondor in the company of you, your children, and your husband (none could recall his name). But none could tell me precisely where Gondor was.

"I headed back east at the advise of several Hobbits and reached what the locals called Buckland. There I was introduced to one Meriadoc Brandybuck, who knew both of you and Gondor. He showed me a map, which he said had been made by Bilbo himself long ago, while he lived in Rivendell, or so I was told."

Baran sipped as his wine and paused to serve himself some more cake. Then his eyes narrowed as he continued. "Gondor was on that map," he said. "And something else. Do you know what was on that map?"

Piosenniel shook her head politely. Patience was not high on her list of virtues. But Baran seemed intent upon telling his story his own way and in his own good time. "What did you find on the map?" she asked, attempting to prod the Beorning along.

"In the far south," he continued. "Well south of here even. In a land called Harad, there was an inscription on the map, even at the very edge of the parchment. It read, 'Here There Be Dragons'!" he concluded triumphantly.

He smiled broadly and spread his arms wide as if those words explained everything. Piosenniel blinked twice, then counted to ten under her breath in an attempt to regain her patience. "So?" she asked in a strained voice. "What does that mean?"

"You don't know?" asked Baran almost increduously. "Bird never told you? Legend has it that the greatest of the Maenwaith, only the most skilled of their leaders, can take the form of the dragon!"

Piosenniel spluttered in frustration and annoyance. "That?" she cried. "That is your great, all so important news? An inscription on a map?"

"Here, here," said Baran with a frown. "I wouldn't get so worked up about things were I you. I know what I'm saying. You see, Merry doubted me also. He suggested that I stop by Rivendell, Imladris you know, and ask there rather than heading right off to this Harad place. So I did! I spent nigh on a year there in their library. Nearly ate them out of house and home." He laughed for a moment. Piosenniel remained silent, keeping her thoughts prudently to herself.

"It took a long time, but I found it," he continued as he reached into his rucksack and removed a scroll. "The tale of the were-wyrms of the Last Desert. It seems some Elves traveled far south long ago, an age or so ago. They set up a camp on the edge of a desert in a pleasant enough area. But after a month or so, some men appeared. Wild, they were, short and olive skinned. They told the Elves that they didn't belong there and that they should leave. The Elves refused.

"Three times this happened, then the men did not return for some time. A few months later, they returned. Many of them. They surrounded the Elven camp, but made no hostile move. Indeed, they bore no arms! Then, in the middle of the night, they lit fires and stood as if they were waiting for something. And something came. A great red dragon. It swooped down on the Elven camp and set fire to some of their homes. Then it landed near a group of the men, out of range of the Elven bows. The men walked down into the camp and said 'Leave now or the Wyrm will drive you away.' Then the men and the dragon disappeared. The Elves returned to the northlands; they left the next morning in fact. Their leader, one Silmir, wrote this scroll before he set off into the West..."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:05 PM January 16, 2004: Message edited by: Mithadan ]
__________________
Beleriand, Beleriand,
the borders of the Elven-land.
Mithadan is offline