Search for Rhûn RPG

[Himaran]

The dwarves had walked for most of the day, and dusk was creeping upon their path. Thankfully, the city of Laketown was spreading out before them, it was not long before they arrived at its sturdy northern gates. Most of the young dwarves had never been far outside of Erebor, and they gaped as the huge doors creaked open. Bali spoke with the guards, and the iron-clad men nodded and waved them forward. Owing to the ease of their entrance was the fact that security had loosened slightly after the fall of Sauron; and travellers were frequent during the fall.

The town was far from glamorous; sturdy, wooden and straw houses were built around the great Lake Esgaroth. The townsfolk were primarily fishermen and farmers, also some were fortunate and had more important professions.

Bali and his companions soon arrived at a comfortable-looking inn, The Silver Stable, and entered. The dwarves situated themselves at a large table while Dwalin and his brother saw to the reservations. "Three rooms for two nights; large, if you can manage." Drinks were soon served, and the party was in far higher spirits than it had been during the day's long march.

[bilbo_baggins]

Aras was sorry to see the Dwarf walk off to see about fishing, and he was also sad to see him angry and slightly hurt at the mistrust he had shown. But could he do anything about it? How far would he in placing his life in the hands of these strangers? Maybe after some well-spent time together, he could trust them more, but not even 12 hours had passed, by Eru! 'How far can I trust?,... How far?' he thought, over and over in his mind.

Today would be a good day, and it was already starting to blossom. Maybe they could go hunting later, or fish, or just talk. Talk would be good. He needed to know something; something, anything that would tie a bond of friendship between him and these two. Their names already had passed around between them, and it was blatantly obvious what their general origins were,... what could be a pact?

He turned to the Elf, and asked, "Will you fish with the Dwarf, or go hunt, or what?"

"I do not know, I may find something in a while. My heart tells me that we are to wait for someone or something that will come to find us, though I don't entirely trust feelings or emotions."

Aras felt the same way. What could they do? They had to wait.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Haenir settled his bones into the hard wood of his chair and indulged himself in a slight sigh of relief. The day’s march had worked its way into his body and the prospect of a couple days’ rest was appealing to him. He shifted his shoulders beneath his armour, reflecting on the days of walking still to come. It had been years since he had marched forth in his gear of war and it would take some time before it felt natural once more. He drank a great quaff of his ale and then banged the tankard to the table for more. A servingman hopped to his side and filled it once more with foaming liquid which soon followed its predecessor down Haenir’s throat.

The other Dwarves in the party had finally found their tongues, it seemed, but Haenir had fallen into something of a brood as he reflected on an incident from earlier in the day. When they had reached the city gates, the guards had asked where they were headed. When they had heard the answer, eyebrows had been raised and knowing looks had been exchanged among the men. Haenir and the other Dwarves had thought little of this reaction, for Men were a superstitious lot. But the echoing chatter had followed them into the Silver Stable. Even now, from where he sat Haenir could hear whispered fragments of conversation from about the room:

“Off to Rhûn you say they are? What madness could drive them there?” he heard in the slow tones of a Lakeman.

“Such is always the desire of Dwarves to seek their fortune far from the safety of home,” came the whispering music of an Elf from the Greenwood.

From the far side of the room he heard, “If half of what I’ve heard is true…” and from nearby, “death by darkness, they say about those lands. Death by darkness.”

This latter claim caught Haenir’s attention and he turned in his seat to find the speaker. At a small table not far from where he sat were two richly clad Men from Gondor – merchants, it seemed. They saw Haenir looking at them and quickly busied themselves with their food, embarrassed at having been caught gossiping about him. The Dwarf rose and bowed to them deeply before speaking formally. “My apologies, sirs, for intruding but I could not help but overhear your conversation about our destination. You seem to know somewhat of it, whereas I know nothing of it. As I am now on a road that will lead me into the heart of a great mystery, I would be grateful for anything that you might know.”

The two Men looked at one another quickly before the taller and fairer of the two responded. He was clothed in rich cloths and bore a large amulet of gold upon his chest. He was obviously one of high and noble birth and his eyes held Haenir’s as he spoke. “I’m afraid, Master Dwarf, that there is little that we know beyond the tales told by old women by the hearthside in our land. What value there may be in their stories I know not, but what I remember of them is yours for the asking. They speak of an empty land, devoid of people, and yet with all the signs of habitation. It is as though a race of spirits inhabits that realm maintaining paths and roads but living nowhere – being seen by no-one.”

Haenir’s countenance grew thoughtful as he took this in. “You are right, sir, that is not, perhaps, as helpful as I would like. But beggars cannot be choosers! You spoke, though, of ‘death by darkness’ – I note that you do not do so now. Do not worry about scaring me with old tales, sir! If there is aught to hear of this land, I desire to hear it.”

The Men looked at one another once more before the slighter one responded. “Like my friend, sir, I know nothing for sure of the land where you are headed. The line you heard is part of an old rhyme that I remember from my youth:

“The night like daggers glistening,
Cry out for the sun,
Fear a death by darkness,
In the land of Rhûn”

“As I say, Master Dwarf,” the Man continued, “it is an old rhyme and meaningless to me. Take it, for what it’s worth, and may it be of some use to you on the road you have chosen to travel.”

Haenir thanked the Men and bowed once more, returning to his seat. Cry out for the sun, Fear a death by darkness… The rhyme was a riddle to him – and he hoped that it would ever remain that way…

[Himaran]

Bali sat at the bar, sipping at his fresh ale. He was satisfied that the dwarves had managed a full days march, but he knew that there would be no inns from Laketown onward. It would be rough country, and it would take them time to adjust. After all, Erebor had been an incredibly safe and comfortable home.

Seeing the Bartender without anyone to wait on, Bali motioned him to come over. The man seemed uncomfortable, knowing that the dwarf wanted information. He came slowly. "Uh... you must be Bali. Many folk know ye in these parts. You saved the Mountain, didn't ye?"

Bali smiled. Ever since he had led a group of warriors from the Shire to Erebor, in an effort to stall the orc army threatening his home until a Gondorian army arrived, he had gained quite exaggerated recognition. But it was not entirely unwanted. "Aye, but I didn't save Erebor. Twas the warriors with me. One of em's with me now, over there. Durin's 'is name. Fine young lad. But that's not why we're here."

The Bartender looked even less comfortable. "Aye.... word is that you're goin' to Rhûn. Rough country out there."

Bali leaned forward, interested. "Rough country? Not from what I've read. Mountains on one corner, forests on another. Straight, flat land surrounding the sea..."

"Well, I can't say I know much about it, but from what I hear, most maps are wrong. Its a rocky jungle, the whole way around." The man lowered his voice to a discreet level. "And some folk say that spirits haunt the land... paths, there are, but never anyone on them. And the paths never get grown over. No, not many travel out to Rhûn."

Bali sat back, disgesting the information he had recieved. The maps, maybe they were wrong. And there might be no treasure at all. But spirits? No, the dwarf knew that such things haunted mountains and caves... the deep places of the ancient dread lord Morgoth. But not Rhûn.... And so the dwarf began to realize what the Bartender's words meant. It couldn't be spirits, but then.....

Rhûn was inhabited.

The thought struck the dwarf like a thunderbolt. There were creatures there, nocturnal, which made paths by night. They were stealthier than wolves or wargs, quieter than eagles, and probably fairly large. But what about people... could they exist? No. Contact would have been made.

Bali suddenly broke away from his thoughts. The younger dwarves were probably drinking in the stories and worries, and would be asking to return to Erebor by the following evening. The dwarf walked over to where Dwalin was sitting, and wispered into his ear: "We leave tomorrow morning. Spread the word, and if asked why... say that we are short on money, and wish to save some for the return journey."

Bali was surprised, and pleased to find that his brother merely nodded. Dwalin had already thought about the same things, and had probably drawn the same conclusion. It is about time that he started to think like a leader.

[Novnarwen]

Dwalin was tired. After today's long march, all he could think of was a good night sleep. He watched the others, impatiently, as they drank their ales and were merry. He couldn't quite understand how and why they found so much pleasure in drinking. What was so special about drinking huge amounts of ale? The Dwarf wanted to go upstairs and sleep. He felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier, and if it wasn't for the fact that he was sitting he would have fallen asleep that very moment. A voice, whispering, interrupted his thoughts and Dwalin turned his attention to a man who was busy talking to Bali. He watched his brother's eyes, now wide open. What was going on? Dwalin had never seen this kind of face expression before, certainly not in his brother's face.

He tried to concentrate on staying awake, and didn't care to eavesdrop.

Moments had passed, without Dwalin being able to hear anything, as Bali turned to his brother. "We leave tomorrow morning. Spread the word, and if asked why... say that we are short on money, and wish to save some for the return journey." Dwalin felt Bali's breath, as it tickled in his ear. Happy about his brother's suggestion, he nodded merrily. Finally, he thought. Sleeeeeep..As he was about to return to his brother and ask if they really were short on money, he found that Bali had gone. He shrugged, but spread the word. Some seemed to be pleased with this decision, others seemed to be hesitant. But it didn't matter. Dwalin was going to bed, and they were going to Rhûn.

The Little Dwarf hurried up the stairs at the Inn, leaving the others, to find his room. He looked around for a moment, being pleased with the standards. Thereafter, he went to look out the little window. Outside, it was dark and yellow spots on the sky glittered as diamonds. He giggled. It reminded him of the treasure he was seeking.

The Dwarf undressed and went to bed. Shortly after, he fell asleep.

[Arestevana]

“What do you think of them? Do they serve the purpose that they were made for?" Nephil’s question remained unanswered. Bestialán seemed to be pondering the question, but thoughts did not disrupt the silence. Now even Maulká was becoming edgy. Hours had passed in the threatening stillness, and it seemed that more would follow.

In fact, it was only several moments before the brooding quiet was disrupted. A sharp noise sounded from farther up the hallway, the steady, even sound of someone walking. As the figure approached, Maulká could see that it was a man. He glanced curiously at the three observers, but turned to Kínadhen.

The replacement guard. Maulká realized. She watched him duck his head to whisper to Kínadhen. Now the silence was much appreciated, as the words carried clearly across the hall, quiet as they were. "The Council of Elders has spoken,” The man murmured. Maulká leaned forward to hear the rest.

The man continued, his voice softer yet. “They will hold a night of feasting, to honor the Spirits of the Sea.” Kínadhen nodded, then handed his spear to the other man before leaving. Maulká watched for a moment as the guard took up a wary defensive stance. She smiled inwardly. A night of feasting!

There would surely be a hunt; meat would be needed if the entire colony was to be fed. I will attend that hunt. Maulká decided. Her eyes glowed as she thought about the last feast. It had been long ago, but she well remembered it. The cruel glare of the flames, dimmed as they were by the depth of the fire pits, the long tables set in a rough circle on the jungle floor, the deep shadow of the trees that hid the starlight. The firelight had danced on the surface of the lake, mirrored by the Lights within it.

Maulká quivered with anticipation. It would be many days yet, but the waiting would be worth it. There was the hunt to look forward to as well. She clenched her fist compulsively, imagining a javelin in her grasp, blood and poison dripping from the point. Memories merged with her thoughts: the fear in the eyes of the last catch, a weak, pallid creature, as it was hauled, alive, to the fire pit. This feast would doubtlessly be different, as circumstances changed, but it would be unequaled in the memories of the younger persons; entirely worthy of the Spirits in whose honor it was held.

[Himaran]

Nilpaurion Felagund's post

"Lorien calls me, so I must go now. Besides, we'll be leaving early tomorrow."

Narvi has just been talking with old friends, fellow veterans of Dale. Some had gone on to be official explorers for the Reunited Realm, and a few of them had even gone to Rhûn. Rhûn. Still a funny name.

Despite the fact that none were sent anywhere near the Sea of Rhûn, their knowledge of the terrain of the East has been helpful. But not very hopeful. Rough rocky outcrops as far as the eye can see. Except for a few trickling streams, the land is almost a desert. And yet the men who assailed us came from that part of Middle-earth. How could they have lived there?

There was something else that caught his attention during the description of Rhûn. There have been some sightings of strange shadows trailing those that dared to travel through the Eastlands. Rhûn loathes outsiders, he concluded, followed by a warning, What are we doing?

Of course, heat plays tricks on people's minds, he said jokingly. Joke or not, once they reach Rhûn, he'll keep his axe a little closer to himself.


Eruantalon's Post

Seeing the inn made him feel oddly comforted. There was new hope in a place where everyone could relax. Things couldn’t be rushed but they shouldn’t be made slower either. Now Looking around the inn he saw many travelers. They all seemed to be on there own business and need there own space. It seemed that all of them where preoccupied. Not this traveler he thought to himself. This was neither the time nor the place.

Moving through the inn it was hard to talk to his fellow companions. He needed to get through and find time on his own. Where would he go and how would he do this? He found a place outside around the back of the inn where there was still a grassy yard. He felt a fondness for green things and felt comfortable there.

Just as he sat there a familiar face showed up. A fellow traveler that had been on the last journey he went on for the dwarf lord. They sat and talked for some time and enjoyed the cool air of the night. Things began to quit in the town. This was the time he loved most the simple quit that could cover the land. The two laughed and enjoyed the night till the moon had risen farther up and tale telling was over.

He made his way off to his room and slept a sound sleep. Like a quit before the storm he thought to himself. He hoped for the best on his journey. But he could feel something building in this time around.

[Himaran]

Himaran's post

Bali and the dwarves sat around the campfire with the other travelers. He could tell that many of his followers were suspicious of their new aquantinces, but Bali had travelled too long to be suprised or alarmed by meeting three wayfarers in a clearing. They were not enemies; that much was clear.

"And where is this party of dwarves going, Master Bali," the Ranger asked.

"To Rhûn." There was nothing else to be said.

The Ranger sat back, blowing smoke rings from his pipe. "Rhûn, land of riches and witches. Or so the rangers have said. But this journey of yours intrigues me; I have always wanted to travel that way..."

He sat back, deep in thought. Silence reigned for ten seconds before he spoke again. "And I shall. Arasinel, at your service."

______________________

Bali was overjoyed when the other travelers agreed to go with his party into Rhûn. They needed numbers, and now they had them; to a small extent at least. The dwarf gave the order to camp there for the night and head for Rhûn the next day, with their new companions. At last, the journey was quickening in pace.

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Esgallhugwen's post - Nerin Cloudfoot

Nerin was rather surprised he had not yet earned the nickname The mute dwarf or Master Tongueless . After all, his lack of conversation wasn't exactly helping him become aquinted with his fellow companions.

On the other hand he did share a few brief quiet conversations with Haenir, who seemed to take a liking to young Nerin. They shared many things in common despite their age difference.

That didn't help when the orcs came, Nerin's lack of experience in battle made him nervous and anxious. But despite his fear he tried to steady himself and cleave his way through to the others.

His heart nearly went up into his throat when he was cornered up against a large tree, he tried to cry out but he bit his tongue instead. Luckily for Nerin's sake, Bali came and disposed of the vile creatures that would have nearly turned him into a Dwarven pin cushion.

They frantically ran to catch up with the others cleaving off orc heads and limbs as they went. The distance to the camp seemed farther away now that they had orcs to deal with, but the two Dwarves made it safely enough, eventually clasping their hands to their knees to steady themselves as they huffed and panted trying to regain their lost breath.

Dwalin and Durin were still back there and Nerin could not help but feel a pang of guilt that he could not do more to help them. He sighed and straightened his back, it was then that Haenir spoke about going back now that they knew what they were up against.

Bali gave him a stern look and directed him over to a corner of their camp, he proceeded to tell something that Nerin could not overhear. It was decided that they would wait, Durin would lead them out to join the main group.

For three very tense hours, they waited fearing the worst but hoping for the best. Their hope prevailed and all exclaimed to see that Dwalin and Durin were unharmed, except for the rather nasty goose egg on Dwalin's head.

________________________

After weeks of traveling; the Erebor company found themselves sitting around a fire with an Elf, a man and another Dwarf. Apparently all friendly so Nerin allowed himself the leisure to let down his guard, if only slightly.

The young Dwarf sat close to Haenir whom he had come to trust and look to for advice on the long road to Rhûn. Nerin couldn't help but look across the fire at the Elf, he had never met one of the Fair Folk before let alone sit down with one, so it was no surprise the situation was a more than a little odd.

Nerin cleared his throat speaking to all for the first time, "forgive my rudeness, but the three of you seem strange companions, what brings you out here?".

[Novnarwen]

It was a rather cold night, or so Dwalin thought. His back ached, but he didn't complain. He refused to look weak in front of these strangers or travellers as they were called. Dwalin didn't really approve of the new part of the company. Going to Rhûn, and meeting someone on the way, just seemed odd. What did they want?

They knew the Dwarven company was going to Rhûn, since Bali had so nicely explained this to them. Suddenly, Dwalin grew annoyed with his brother. Was it wise of him to burst out to anyone they met, that they were going to Rhûn? What if they were untrustworthy? Had his dear brother given thought to that?

Dwalin realised however, that the travellers probably could be good company, since they all were used to these sort of things, but what if Bali was wrong about them? The confused dwarf decided not to judge too soon. He would keep an eye on them though, watching every step they took. Even if it meant being awake all night, he would keep his big eyes on them. With that, he decided to join the rest in the conversation. Nevertheless, he found himself uncomfortably sitting next to Haenir. It was not the other dwarf ho made him feel this way, but he couldn't help himself thinking of these travellers. Grim faced, he glanced over at one of them. A ranger, or so he; Arasiniel had said. The Ranger's eyes were lit up by the crackling fire, and they were looking curiously around and about. Dwalin, who happened to sit just opposite of the Ranger, turned away when Arasiniel was about to lay his eyes upon the dwarf. Dwalin avoided his piercing look, and pretended to be busy with something else. Eventually, when a few minutes had passed, Dwalin returned to his previous doings; staring at his new companions. Suddenly, he discovered that Arasiniel was not sitting opposite of him any longer. Desperately looking into all directions, the Dwarf shuddered. Where was he? Was he already committing treachery?

He restrained himself for panicking, squinting over at Haenir; who was eagerly talking to Nerin. He felt his hands getting sweaty and sticky. Trying to catch Bali's eye, wanting to tell his brother that all of this just felt wrong, he stood up. It was no use. Bali wouldn't turn his way, and he would never let Dwalin's gut feeling take command over how this company should continue on their journey. His stupidity struck him as he felt the heavy air choking him. It was useless to go around worrying whether these new companions would betray them or not. What possibly could they do, when the dwarves outnumbered them? That's when another horrible thought struck him. What if some of the other dwarves were in the lead with the travellers? Things were getting really bad for Dwalin now, as he felt his stomach turning upside down. He walked fast away from the others, not even excusing himself.

A few paces away he bent down, ready for anything, but nothing came. His stomach made a sound, which Dwalin tried to suppress as he head footsteps just behind. He turned slowly around, putting up a grimace.

"Is something wrong, master dwarf?" It was quite a friendly voice, Haenir; if it was up to Dwalin. He was about to reply, not even turned to face the person who had so kindly asked the question. "Everything is quite alright!" Dwalin exclaimed, now turning, looking into those big brown eyes which he had just half an hour found himself staring into. It seemed to him that his eyes were very much the same, although there was no fire lightening them up. The surprise made Dwalin's stomach turn once more, but he, once again, restrained himself. "I'm quite . . . alright," he muttered again, not very reassuring.

The Ranger looked at him. Dwalin thought the man frightening, as he was much bigger and himself, and there was something about the eyes. Insecure about what was appropriate to do in this kind of situation, Dwalin was silent. Usually, the Dwarf was very friendly and liked to talk, but now he couldn't really find anything to say. As a matter of fact, he found himself drained for words. He didn't know whether it was the surprise, or it was the feeling he had about this ranger not being trustworthy. Normally, he would bite his lip and just do something, but Dwalin just kept on staring in his eyes.

"Let's go back to the others," Arasiniel suddenly suggested. This was fairly shocking to Dwalin, who had not expected this behaviour. Slowly walking in the front towards the others and the fire, Arasiniel followed slowly behind.

[Himaran]

Bali could sense the distrust; it was as thick as the pollen floating throughout the breeze in the warm summer night. The dwarves were plainly scared of strangers, at least those in the wild. This cannot go on. We will not survive if we cannot pull together. The words struck the dwarf as strange. What did they have to fear? There was nothing out there, waiting to grab them in the dark of night and tear them to bloody shreads. But he continued to feel an unusual sense of urgency, the need to unite the group. With the new travelers, the job would be difficult.

With his natural leadership skills snapping into play, Bali turned to the members of the company. "Dwalin, Kain, empty the packs. We can use a good meal around here. Haenir, Nerin, gather some dry wood. The rest of you, gather some provisions. Then rest up. Erulon and I shall prepare a meal." The dwarf's keen ears picked up a dispariging comment from Haenir. [/I]Perhaps the travelers are the least of my problems.[/I]

Bali watched as Haenir stomped off into the woods with Nerin, axe resting on one shoulder, a haughty and rebelious air about him. Ever since the incident with the orcs, he had been tough to handle. Not in a disrespectful sense, but a competitive one. It was obvious that Haenir did not see his slightly older companion as the group's leader. Bali knew that he would have to deal with the rift soon enough, but decided to ignore the issue for the night; and instead duel Eruantalon in a cooking match.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Hænir had noted Dwalin’s distrust of the travellers, and while he managed to hide his feelings somewhat more effectively than the younger Dwarf, he shared them. He still had not forgiven them the little ‘prank’ they had pulled when they arrived – no matter who the marksman, an Elf of the greenwood or not, it was no laughing matter to Hænir to have someone shoot an arrow at him or one of his companions! As a consequence, he made sure that when he sat down by the fire, he did so with his face to the travellers, and with Nerin and Dwalin on either side of him.

The travellers had seemed to settle right into the group and make themselves at home, and Bali had certainly taken to them. Hænir had spent several weeks now in the close company of Bali and had come to the conclusion that while he was a Dwarf of mettle and spirit, he was still quite young in spirit: brash, confident and quick to decide for others. Hænir was used to taking orders, but from his King, to whom he had sworn eternal obedience and loyalty. Bali, as true as he undeniably was, had yet – Hænir felt – to earn the right to assume that he was the unquestioned leader of the group. And yet, no sooner had they finished their evening meal, then Bali was ordering – ordering – himself and Nerin to collect more wood. Hænir paused for a moment, considering whether the time was ripe to openly question the imperious manner that had come to rankle him, but decided that it had not. He did allow himself, however, one muttered phrase as he stomped past Bali: “I did not bring my axe on this journey to cut wood!”

Nerin and he had little trouble finding dry wood aplenty in the forest and they each soon had an armful of fuel for their fire. As they were about to return to the clearing, they saw off to their side, well out of the light of the fire, Dwalin and the Ranger Arasiniel, apparently in conversation. Hænir beckoned Nerin to stop. The younger Dwarf followed Hænir’s gaze and then looked at him in alarm. “What’s the matter?” he hissed quietly. “Is that Ranger threatening Dwalin?”

Hænir shook his head slowly, “I do not know,” he said, “but there is something amiss. Dwalin has been uncomfortable all night – I do not think that he cares for these travellers overmuch.” He saw the Ranger move closer to Dwalin, and it was all he could do to prevent himself from crying out a warning. He still felt the guilt of having abandoned Dwalin and Durin to the orcs, and as a result had become more than a little protective of them since their miraculous escape. He saw Dwalin and Arasiniel move back toward the fire and he could not help but sigh somewhat with relief. He turned to Nerin once more, “Come my friend, let us get this wood back to Bali so he can build up the fire.”

“What was going on?”

“‘Twas nothing, my lad. Dwalin was, I think, seeking some time alone and the Ranger merely surprised him in the dark.” He was not sure that Nerin believed this. He was not sure that he did, either.

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

Normally, he would have been the first to greet newcomers, but they were in a strange land, and they were a strange company. Why are they here, anyway?

So far, nothing untoward has happened to the company since reaching Rhûn, but that only made Narvi feel more paranoid. Rhûn might have kept its surprises, of the worst kind, towards the end.

He looked at the Dwarven newcomer, and his hands tightened around the axe, but relaxed moments later. He reproached himself for allowing paranoia control his usually gregarious personality. Dropping the axe among his things, he decided to approach the Dwarf, and strike a conversation. Then you'll see he's a true Dwarf, and not an illusion of the land.

"Gortek, right?" The Dwarf nodded.

He sat down beside Gortek, and said, "I am Narvi Silverfist. Tell me, what brings you here, with this," he lowered his voice, "queer company?"

[Novnarwen]

As Dwalin paced back towards the others, having Arasiniel close behind, he couldn't help feeling a bit silly. He had definitely been stupid, or paranoid was more the word. But at these times, one could never be too careful, right? He shrugged, as he settled himself again, away from Arasiniel. He didn't quite trust him still, would he ever?

The petty dwarf saw Hænir and Nerin coming back from the woods, after having collected wood for the fire. Dwalin wanted to tell them everything; maybe they shared his doubts. Eventually, he decided not to tell them. A Dwarf like him, with this position in the company, couldn't show any sign of fear. But all the same, doubt and fear were two different things. He could in fact tell them that he found the travellers untrustworthy, without revealing his fear. Though, Dwalin had been frightened by Arasiniel's way of approaching him, coming up from behind, he didn't necessarily have to tell Hænir and Nerin that. Yes, that was a good idea. But again, the dwarf grew uncertain. By the look in Bali's face, smiling and talking to these new arrived companions, he just couldn't do it. He knew that Bali trusted them, and Bali knew best. Throughout their childhood and adults lives, he had always known what was best. He had always been Dwalin's rescuer in this way, as he always knew what to do.

Dwalin bit his lip. Here they came; Hænir and Nerin. He wanted to rise and leave the others again, but Hænir had already caught Dwalin's eye. The two of them settled down, close to Dwalin.

"You okay, Dwalin?" Nerin asked curiously after a while.

Dwalin was busy thinking again, now biting inside his mouth. He felt the taste of blood, but turned at last his attention to Nerin.

"Yeah, sure," Dwalin answered dryly, looking into the fire.

Nerin continued by saying that Dwalin looked worried or concerned. This, Dwalin pretended to come as a shock. He waved his hands, speaking louder than usual and told him that this indeed was not correct. "Just a bit tired," he added in the end. Nerin seemed satisfied by this answer, though troubled, but asked no further. The three of them sat quietly, listening to the others. Dwalin caught a word or two, but didn't pay much attention to what was going on. The Dwarf soon determined that Arasiniel probably could be trusted, but the other two would still be under his close watch.

I'm watching you two," Dwalin muttered under his breath, glancing over at the travellers.

[Himaran]

Bali walked in silence. The dwarves were restless, and there would be trouble if a path was not soon discovered. That waterfall there - maybe.... Just then, Haenir approached him. He was still smug, but seemed to have something important to relate. "Bali, if we could scale that rock face, we might be able to make it in. There seems to be a path into Rhûn behind the waterfall."

Bali pondered the thought for a moment, briefly disturbed by the fact that if the plan worked, it would be Haenir's idea; even though he had thought of the same thing moments before. Bah, what did it matter. If Haenir had had control of the group during the orc attack, they would all be dead. But perhaps he would prove instrumental to their survival later on...

"Its a far shot, but it might just work. Do you think the other lads are able to make the climb?" Bali lowered his voice as he spoke.

"Aye. They will have to; it is the only way."

_____________

And so climb they did. Up the rocky cliff, over the edge of the peaks, and onto a flat plateau. The dwarves were ecstatic. The ridge followed a group of mountains east, directly into the heart of Rhûn. Further along, a beautiful waterfall sent tons of water cascading down into the valley. Bali and the company were able to travel underneath of the verticle stream, and found a virtual stairwell down the other side.

Several hours later, after slow, treacherous scaling down the slope, the dwarves found themselves in a land much like Emyn Muil. The beauty of the falls was gone. Rocky hills and dense jungle forest spread out in all directions. It was impossible to tell if the land was flat of if it suddenly dropped hundreds of feet. The dwarves became restless. What if they got lost? They might never make it back to the mountains. And what strange beasts lived in the jungle?

Dwalin was suddenly angry. To have come all this way, and have them mumble that it was not safe? "Enough!" He yelled. "We either go in - or go back!"

The dwarves were silent for a moment, and one by one agreed that they could not go back. Forward was the only way now, and most did not savior making the long journey home. Exploring a new world would be far more exciting. "Then let us get on with it," shouted Haenir.

And so the party entered Rhûn, completely naive of what awaited them.

[Novnarwen]

The dwarf was pleased that everyone had agreed upon not going back. How could they even give this a thought, when they were so close to Rhûn? It didn't make sense. He found himself frowning, and wondering what in Middle-earth they were thinking. All this way, and for nothing? How could they be satisfied by that, Dwalin wondered. Although he had difficulties understanding what was going on in the other dwarves' minds (and the travellers), he refused to let it delay him anymore. The treasures of Rhûn waited for them, but it had waited long enough. It was time to go and find it.

The clear day made Dwalin feel optimistic. All their delays; the orcs in the woods, the new travellers and the difficulties they had approached when finding a way into Rhûn, would not make him go back or be afraid. Now they would finally get rewarded for their patience, and no one could stop him. These thoughts were encouraging for Dwalin, and he hurried over to Bali's side, who walked in the front. The jungle didn't bother him too much in the start. The map would lead them to the treasure. This just couldn't go wrong. Besides, Dwalin was an excellent map reader and could probably guide himself and this group safely to the treasure. "Not a chance!" he answered promptly as Durin expressed his doubts about going in circles. They had already wandered around for several hours at that time, but Dwalin was absolutely confident on the group being on the right track.

"I've studied this map," Dwalin said smartly, winking at him. Durin shrugged and continued his conversation with Hænir, further back in the group.

*******

Later that day, when the dark started creeping up on them, Dwalin noticed the many flies buzzing around. They were constantly in his eyes, up his nose or in the corners of his mouth. Trying to avoid hysteria amongst the others, Dwalin tried to restrain himself for screaming and waving his hands. He wanted to smack them with his hands, make 'em drop dead to the sandy ground, but he didn't want to make the others feel uncomfortable as well. However, due to Dwalin problem, he suggested taking a short break, before continuing. When asking the others, he interrupted himself by letting out a short shriek. Just paces away from Nerin's foot, a slimy oblong thing was crawling. The other's looked questioningly at Dwalin, who held his hands to his mouth, being disgusted by the look of it.

"What is it?" one of the others asked curiously, not even noticing how close it was crawling towards Nerin's foot. Dwalin pointed desperately downwards, trying to make his comrade understand. The oblong creature seemed to notice Dwalin's fear and started at him instead. Towards the petty dwarf it came; and the closer it came, the more Dwalin screamed. Suddenly, he felt the urge to run, and he turned on his heal and ran, having the snake after him. To Dwalin's surprise it was much faster than expected, and the dwarf was, and had always been, out of condition. Sooner or later, the snake would catch up with him.

Dwalin ran on, round in circles. He didn't even notice the others, or rather; he couldn't care less about what they were doing. All what mattered was getting away, but how he would do that, he had no idea. He screamed for help, but it was impossible to catch or kill the snake. It was moving too fast, and the others, no matter what they tried, weren't able to catch it or kill it. Soon, Dwalin collapsed. His pains in his back, (which was a result of his tree-climbing,) and the fact that he was totally exhausted, made him fall to the ground. Before the rest of the company were able to pick him up and give him some water, the snake had already taken a nice bite of Dwalin's thick skin. It crawled hurriedly away, showing it's white fangs.

The Dwarf felt the others surround him, when lying on the ground. The flies were swirling around him, but they were not his biggest concern now...

[Carlas]

It was getting dark now, and the forest seemed oddly quiet, even with the flies that swarmed around them. It felt as if Durin’s ears were covered and making the noises around him distant and muffled, even the crickets seemed to being chirping quieter than usual. He frowned, this was not how he had imagined Ruhn, he had thought it would be bright and lush, with animals everywhere and the lake, sparkling and shimmering as the legends from his childhood had said. Had they come here for nothing?

Durin looked around at the thick forest all around them. There were many strange plants everywhere and they were now walking towards a large tree, covered in mosses. Durin stopped suddenly, but was pushed forward again as Nerin bumped into him from behind.

“Sorry about that.” Durin said as he straightened up again, and ran up to the front to talk to Dwalin. Nerin shrugged his shoulders and kept walking.

Dwalin looked up as Durin ran up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Do you use maps often?” Durin asked before Dwalin could say anything. The dwarf looked at him, not quite sure what Durin was going on about. “Well of course! I have done so many times, and am quite a good at it too if I do say so myself.” He answered finally.

Durin smiled. “Well then I’d say it’s the map’s fault.”

“What?” Dwalin asked, surprised at Durin’s response.

“I think we’re going in circles…I’ve seen that tree already!” He answered, pointing over at the tree he had seen earlier.

Dwalin shook his head. “That can’t be, I’m positive we’re going in the right direction, I’ve studied this map.” He smiled and turned back to the path. Durin turned to Hænir and sighed. “I know I’ve seen that tree….”

~*~

It was not long after when Dwalin let them have a short break and the dwarves sat down on the cold earth, happy to be stopping. Durin sat thinking for awhile, tired and still convinced they were going in circles when he heard a quick shriek. All the dwarves turned to see Dwalin pointing at a snake inches from Nerin’s foot. It stopped and turned to Dwalin who now looked completely terrified, and started to work his way over towards the dwarf. Before anyone could do anything, Dwalin started running as fast as he could away from the snake, which quickened its pace, chasing after the poor dwarf.

The Dwarves yelled and jumped up onto their feet to try and pursue the snake. Durin stood up quickly, hoping to help the others, but then noticed the map that Dwalin must have dropped was starting to fly away in the wind. He ran towards the map, but the wind now had it and it was blown away before Durin could grab it. He growled, they might have being going in circles but at least they had had some idea of where they were going with the map…things just couldn’t get worse for the small group of travelers…

“Durin!” someone called from behind. He turned and gasped as he saw Dwalin lying on the ground pale and unconscious. It seemed things were getting worse…

[Will Witfoot]

Gortek used his short sword to hack through the weeds and plants obscuring their path. The vicious, fat-bodied flies buzzed all around him, occasionally landing on his head. Shaking his head to keep the insects away Gortek went on hacking.
It seemed Rhûn was not the land of beauty and peril that most tales would have you believe, he thought. The glorious mountains with their waterfalls were simply a pretty casing, which held inside a country covered by the green and humid hell that was the jungle. He was beginning to suspect that the whole 'death by darkness' part mentioned in the stories was just an account of those who died of the heat or got lost in the jungle. He seriously doubted that anything could live here and still have the necessary energy left to deal out death, let alone by darkness when this place was likely to be at it's most dangerous.

His theory was shattered, however, when during a short break they were taking Dwalin was attacked by a snake. None of the party were quick enough to catch the creature, so they all hurried to it's victim.
While most of the others were busy inspecting their leader's wound, Gortek turned back to one of the lads, Durin, that had been left behind by the sudden rush of Dwalin. He turned just in time to see the young dwarf fail to grab the map that was being borne away by wind.

Gortek couldn't stop a curse in Khuzdul from escaping through his lips. The map could well be their line of life in this hostile land. As fast as his short legs would carry him he raced after it.

Caught up in the furry of the chase, he failed to notice the end of the tree line and the looming edge of the plateau in front of him. Before he knew it, he was tumbling through nothingness with the thought that it hadn't been the brightest of ideas to go running blindly like that in unexplored territory racing through his head. Desperately he struck out with his hands, and his heart skipped a beat out of sheer joy when the fingers of one of his huge paws closed around a small ledge jutting out from the cliff side.
It wasn't enough, however. With his heavy bag filled with provisions adding to his weight, even his strength wasn't enough to get himself up. There was only one option, though a bitter one at that.

Gortek sighed and let his bag fall. He could hear it thump against the rocky cliff side as the wind threw it around like a vicious child. Then, straining all his strength, he began to pull himself up.

[Himaran]

The dwarves had walked for several hours when they were forced to stop their march along the plateau. Fallen trees and boulders blocked the entrance into a thin canyon. "Well, what do we do now," muttered Bali. But he kept the thought to himself.

"I suppose we must head into the jungle again. We cannot break out way through this with so few people." And so they did. The dwarves, grumbling and already shouting about flies, headed north into the jungle, as they could not climb down over the plateau without rope. They went around the bottom of the plateau, hoping to find a passage south to the sea.

________________________

Bali hacked his way through the weeds, thoroughly tired. When would the grass end? Some of Rhûn was a barren wasteland, and the rest was a dense jungle. To show some encouragement to those behind, Bali called back, "The grass is thicker. The sea must be near!" Then the tree fell, narrowly missing his head. The dwarf jumped back with a shout.

The others gathered to investigate. "Looks like it just fell naturely," remarked Durin. "No smooth cuts in the wood."

Haenir stared at it a bit longer. "But this is a young tree. It could not have fallen on its own. Here, look at its leaves. Green, full of life. This tree was cut!"

The company stood for a while in silence and shock. Then Rhûn must have inhabitants, and they were not friendly. But Bali broke the phase quickly. "Don't jump to conclusions, Haenir. It could have fallen over. After all, there are not tracks. Come! We must move on."

Later, as the dwarves walked, Haenir came up beside Bali. He wispered across to him, "You know as well as I do that that tree was cut! There are people living in Rhûn, and they wish to kill us!"

Bali wispered back, "There probably are, but why scare the younger dwarves without any proof? This jungle is doing things to their minds, and we don't need an assumption to send them into a terrified frenzy. We must keep the peace, Haenir."

The dwarf nodded, but still mumbled loudly, "Why do you always keep the peace by making me look stupid?"

[Carlas]

Durin sighed. They had been walking for hours and the weeds seemed to be getting thicker and thicker which made it nearly impossible to walk and even harder to run. Though Bali had mentioned it could mean they were getting closer to the lake, it did not really help lift Durin’s spirits. Nothing seemed to be going right, the trees and boulders that had forced them into the forest had been a big setback, no one had liked the idea going back into the forest.

It was now getting dark, and the dwarves decided to stop for the night, not wishing to get lost in the deep tangles of the forest. The company was mostly silent, except for the occasional grumble or complaint as they put their bags down and found a place they could sleep. The dwarves settled in quickly and soon fell asleep, tired from the day’s march.

~*~

The morning came quickly, and the dwarves woke up to the loud buzzing of flies in their ears. The air felt warmer than it had the last few days, and the dwarves were not terribly excited to be starting off through the forest again. Durin yawned and pulled himself up onto his feet but turned when he heard Narvi call out in surprise. “The food, it’s gone!” The dwarves stopped what they had been doing and turned to see their packs open and strewn across the ground.

The company stood around their empty packs in disbelief. All their food and gear was gone, and there were no signs of tracks. It was almost as if it had all vanished into thin air.

“We have not seen many animals in this forest, what would have done this?” Durin asked, looking over at Bali.

“Or who?” Haenir added walking up beside Durin

Bali looked at Haenir but ignored the comment. “There’s nothing we can do about it now. We have to keep going.” He said sadly. The others looked at eachother not sure if they agreed or not. Without any food they would starve, and they doubted they would find much to eat in this forest.

“He’s right.” Erulon said looking around at his companions. “We didn’t come this far to turn around now!” The small company nodded together, knowing that they could not go back empty handed. Bali gave a small smile, glad that they all agreed.

“Alright then, search to see if anything is left and let’s get going.” He called out to the group.

[Saraphim]

From his hiding place in the canopy, Nephil could see two of the small, thick creatures inspect where they had been only moments before.

Leaning in closer for a better view of the dwarves, the like of which he had never seen before, he heard snatches of their whispered conversation as they walked away.

They know we're here, thought Nephil. Interesting. No catch has ever known of thier peril. Before its too late, of course.

Nephil did not know where the other two had gone, only that there had been an uneasy truce as all three had seperatly picked up the tracks and scent of the dwarves.

After he had realized that Maulka and Bestialan were on the trail as well, Nephil had taken the intiative and stolen the traveler's provisions and map. He had feasted well on thier strange food, and laughed quietly at thier map, which was incredibly wrong.

The dwarves were now so weak that a simple wild-dog attack (which Nephil sespected had something to do with Bestialan or Maulka) had brought them down.

The dog's flesh will bring them sustainance. If you are to strike, then do it soon. Nephil thought, eyes narrowing.

[Himaran]

As soon as Bali and Haenir came out of the woods, they saw that the others were looking healthier. The warg meat, while foul, was of hearty sustenance; and left a reviving fire in the stomach of one consuming it. But they also knew that natives were at hand, and were not at all friendly. The party had to leave, at once. "Pack the remaining meat in dry leaves, and gather your weapons," Bali said. "We leave immediately!"

He motioned toward the thicket where the remains over the warg had been buried. "There may be other... things... waiting to harm us. The creatures of this jungle have proven to be deadly." But he did not elaborate further. The dwarves followed his instructions and, within a half-hour, were ready to leave.

Bali's foot was still throbing, as he had refused to use their remaining athelas for 'just a cut.' He reminded them that there might be more serious injuries to deal with at a later time. The dwarf did not, of course, mention that he suspected those injuries might come from poisoned weapons.

The group left the campsite, moving into the jungle once more. Bali continued to lead them east, following the plateau. Suddenly, the trees gave way to a sort of canyon. Bali was overjoyed when Erulon announced that it led through the entire plateau; heading south. The sea! It had to lead to the sea! "We follow the canyon," Bali yelled in glee. "The sea must not be far."

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

"I think that somebody is coming!" shouted Bali

"Well," Gortek said, "at least we won’t be tempted to run away!"

"Even if we had a way, we still can't," Narvi responded. "They know this place well. And they're quicker than us," he added, remembering their native attacker.

The combination of terror, hunger, and fatigue has affected the Dwarven warrior in such a way a battalion of Orcs could not. And I'm still wet, to make matters worse. He hated the rain. He was less alert in the rain, and it made him feel resigned. Emotion he wouldn't need now.

"What now, Bali?" he asked. Well, he thought, at least my quiver's still full.

Not for long, though.

[Himaran]

"Erulon, give me a hand with this door! Quickly now!" The man hurried over, and the pair heaved the stone block back up into its place. Durin picked up a large rock and shoved it into the crack. The others helped, handing them blocks lying around the room. After Bali shoved the last into place, he stepped back.

"Back up! Weapons at ready! Battle positions. Steel yourselves! No matter comes through that door, you will stand your ground. We will live to fight another day." It was then that he got a good look at their new companion. He was young, but was built like a warrior, and appeared well-trained. The man was squinting, adapting his eyes to the light. Bali presumed that he had not seen daylight for weeks.

Slowly, the man stood. He glanced around at his rescuers, as if gathering himself before speaking. "I need a weapon."

Bali could not help chuckling. What was his name? Who cared! He was a fighter, and swords would do more than words in this situation. "Here you are, sir," said Eruantalon, who handed him a longsword. Erulon then pulled out his axe, a shining and beautiful instrument of death. He had not fought with it for some time.

Just then, a scratching sound was heard near the far side of the room. The dwarves began to turn, but Bali stayed them. "It may be a trick. Keep your eyes on the door; Durin, see where that noise is coming from." Durin investigated, and reported that nothing was there.

Then the door shook violently under a sudden impact.

[Esgallhugwen]

Esgallhugwen's post

The situation was only getting worse, there was no sea, only jagged rocks and thick jungle. Nerin was terribly afraid of heights but managed to scale the cliff face without looking down.

And after all the hours of struggling through the jungle's dense vines and trees, they finally had a rest. Nerin was about to sit down when a startled gasp came from Dwalin.

The young Dwarf couldn't understand what Dwalin was carrying on about, until he looked down at his foot. His brown eyes widened at the dark slippery creature inches away from his feet, but as he was about to step on its head it made a sharp turn and headed for Dwalin instead.

Frantically the whole company began rushing around as the snake chased after Dwalin with incredible speed. Try as they might they couldn't stop the snake before the poor lad fell over and was bitten.

Bali ordered Nerin to fetch the athelas, the wound was poisoned and needed to be tended to fast. When things had settled down they noticed Gortek was missing.

Luckily for his sake they managed to pull him up quickly before he fell to the craggy bottom. With these unfortunate happenings the group seemed to become tighter, better knit.
__________________________________________________ ___

The map was lost, and when they awoke in the morning the rest of their provisions and gear had gone missing. Nerin nearly fell to his knees with tears,

All thats happened, what's it worth, we havn't seen anything promising, no sea, no treasure, nothing

With a sigh he moved around the camp to see if anything was left. Nerin had felt a chill go up his spine as soon as they had entered Rhûn, he knew something was out their watching them; someone had stolen what they had in their bags.

"Theres nothing left" Nerin said sadly looking across at Bali "whatever, whoever took all that we had, what are we to do now?"

"We must press on, we will not have come all this way for nothing" Bali said determined to find and claim what they came for.

"Yes we must press on even if we starve to death" Nerin muttered to himself.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Novnarwen's post

They awoke the next morning discovering that their food was gone. To Dwalin's great sorrow their provision couldn't be found. They searched the place, but nothing was left of their food. The Dwarf shook with rage. So much had gone wrong; the snake bite, the long way, which had turned to be unexpectedly hard to find, and now their food was gone. They barely had anything to eat at all! How were they going to survive in this jungle? Furious by their latest loss, Dwalin sulked all morning. Nothing could cheer him up, not even his longing for the treasures; if there were any in this horrible place. It struck him that this might be the end to their adventure, which made him even more unhappy about the fact that they had travelled so far for noting. If there indeed was a treasure, they would have to find it quickly however.

As Bali announced their departure from their current campsite, Dwalin rose from the stone he had settled on and went over to Bali.

"What's going on?" he asked frowning and eyes shifting. What was frightened him the most was Bali's look, which gave Dwalin the impression that he was uncertain. Suddenly, a feeling of anger arose in Dwalin and his eyes reflected this.

"It'll be okay," Bali assured him, patting him on the back. "Now, let's get going," he continued, muttering it into Dwalin's ear. He only wished Bali hadn't said this to comfort him. He hoped he had meant it, and that his was fully aware of what he was doing. Pressing forwards now, would mean so without much food and without a map. Both things had been important during their long journey, and now they had neither. Could they possibly survive here in the jungle, without the necessary provisions they had been depending on earlier? Where would the find their food, and what if the sea was too far away from them to reach it, as they didn't have much water left either? These thoughts scared him, but he remained silent, but sulky, as they set out for another days' journey still hearing Bali's words buzzing around in his mouth:

"We must press on, we will not have come all this way for nothing"

Dwalin avoided the other's looks. He felt sure they were talking behind his back, whispering foul words about him and their misfortune. However, he didn't really pay attention; he was trudging in his own pace, left in his own thoughts. Maybe he just didn't care anymore. Obviously something, or someone, was trying to prevent them for getting what the dwarven company was after. Dwalin just didn't understand why.

[bilbo_baggins]

Upon awakening one morning, Arasiniel and the others noticed rather quickly that their supplies and gear were gone, vanished. They were stuck rather frighteningly in the entrails of a dilemna.

Hiking onward, they fought trough feelings of despair. Wave after wave of doubt crept in. They hadn't reached the sea yet, they didn't know if this was really the jungle of Rhûn they had been searching for, and the local fauna didn't help much either.

Stepping on a snake, Aras barely saved himself from getting a bite on his leg. Cursing inwardly for letting himself be so careless, he glanced up at the others. They weren't faring that well either. It seemed obvious that no one particularly cared for the jungle.

Struggling on, they all stumbled for several miles. Dissension was beginning to grow rampant. Mutiny seemed imminent. Several dwarves, and even Aras, had some choice words for their seeming misadventure.

"It doesn't seem to be quite the picnic, nut-gathering outing you had planned, eh, Bali? Nothing ever turns out quite like we want," said Aras slowly, trying to stem the frustration and annoyance that was flooding his mind by bringing up the subject.

"I didn't think it would be easy. No one did," was Bali's curt, slightly spiteful reply. Aras didn't mind, he was expecting some reply like it, and looked forward to many more anger-filled comments on everyone's part.

Turning to Erulon, he asked, "So, we have traveled far now. I never got to ask you though, where do you come from? Arnor? Gondor, maybe?"

Glancing around while Erulon gathered some breath to use for words instead of the steady plodding that continued even in their dreams. He noted several angry faces, and many of the company were practically outright enraged and furious. He hoped that they would not act without reason or sense until the discovery of the sea perhaps, or some treasure. Yes, perhaps they could check their sweeping emotions 'til then.

[Himaran]

Eruantalon's Post: (from past days)


"I am from Gondor, good friend. I have no real home, and have always wandered far; however, after I met Bali and his father at Erebor, I have stayed under the mountain far more than in the south. But my heart still stays in Gondor. Alas! It is true... There is a story for this. I only tell it to my truest friends, but I consider every member of this company to be one. And so here is my tale, though I warn you, it is both strange and sad.

Many years ago when there was still a heir to the throne in Gondor. There was a guard by the name of Karis. One day he met a fair lady by the name of Niril. She was no common woman. She was quick witted and cunning. Her fother was a ranger as where all of her brothers and famly. They fell in love and where married. they had three sons. The eldest they named Korilen.

Many years passed untill Korilen was soon to become a man. He was a joyus boy who loved Arda deeply. Often he would be found on the roof top of his house staring at the stars. Often he would dream queer things and tell his fother and mother about what he had seen. One night he woke crying when his mother came to him.

She asked him what had troubeled him in his sleep. He told her of the white city and its waters that sang. The trees that whent up like mountains. The beauty of an endless spring. The halls of a great and beautifull place. Covered with pearls. The most beautifull ships that where burned on shores. How ugly things hated all the beauty. How they destroyed it and it made him cry. He only saw them before in beauty not ruin. But now they where gone. He hoped that one day he would go to see them. Now he knew that he never could. So when he awoke it made him weep.

His mother comforted him and made him honey and warm milk to get back to bed. But she knew he had seen things before his time.

So ever since that day he was weighted by the burden. Of the memory of thing that where long gone in days of old.

He grew older now. His time to become a guard of Gondor was at hand. His fother over saw his training. He was swift of foot. Keen of aim. As strong as his fother hoped he would be. So he grew to his full hight. He was a high guard of Gondor. He saw the day come when the stewarts of Gondor took to governing his home. He was still vary young though. He was not yet an old man,but he was into his man hood for ten years then.

One day he beheld a sight that took him back. Windamere fairest of all he had seen. Her fother was a ships captian for Gondor.

Windamere was fair skined tall and strong. Her hair was as gold as weat on the harvest. Her eyes deepest blue. Her face was striking and fair. She stired with the beauty of all of Arda. So that in her face was light to be seen.

When she first met Korilen she was struck by his mannors and friendship. He was as gentle and kind as any man she had ever known. But she noticed the pain of some unknown weight on him. So that time he met her he sang for her. He had been taught by his mother all the songs that where in Gondor apon his lute. He had enchaned her with his beautifull songs that night. Ever afer she would rember that night. For that was the moment that she had fallen under his spell.

A few seasons had gone by. The summer came now. He and Windamer where to be married. One day she was off to sea with her brothers. The moring was fair and calm. But as noon time came a storm was at hand. The seas tossed and rumbled under the planks of the boat. They where trying to make it to shore before it was too late. As they came towards shore the wind and water raised up apon them. Then there ship was thrased onto the shore. All of the people on that boat had fallen. None where lift all whrere gone.


Then the storm lifted shortly after. The seas calmed and the wind came to a gentle wisper. Then after hours of search her fother found her. They where not supposed to go so far out. There journy had taken too long. The storm came in when he saw them making there way to shore.

He weeped deeply there where the reckage lay. So he never sailed agian. For he looked with anger apon the sea ever after.

News came to Korilen of his love and her voyage. She was gone forever. Never agian would he see his fairest love. All was lost there was nothing left for him now. He took to traveling and wandering. Seasons came and gone, winter, spring, fall, and summer. But all was as coldest winter to him. Grey and warmthless life was for him.

He sat by the great river Anduin one day. Playing apon his lute and singing of his pains. The beauty he had seen and lost. The love that he had seen and lost. For days out of his count he sang. There was no day or night. Only his songs where left. He grew weary and hungered for the loss of his life. But he was not dying. He was left singing with out realease. He would fall into sleep then awake. Night had turned to day or day had turned to night. He was in shear torture.

Finaly he cried out to the river."Why do I keep living when all I seek is death? Why do I have the memory of things that are gone? What would I do if I cannot find death? Would I be left here till all time has gone? Is it not enough that I am mortal and doomed to die? Must also my burden be made higher?"


Then a great voice of them deep arose. "You have sung second born and I have listened. Now you will hear me."

The voice boomed so loud his ears ached. It was all around but had no source. It was like water but thrashed like a storm.

"You have been burdened by many thing Korilen. But I have not gone blind to what pains you. So I will give you a gift to ease your burden. Your life is shorter than the Oak or the river running. But know me for I am greater than all of these."

He knew now it was he who is master of the sea. He humbled himself and kneeled down now.

"I have not let you die! You will live on. You have many deed that need your work in. For that alone you should live. You will do the will of Eru. Now I give you your new name that all will know you by. Eruantalon do the good that is needed. You are spared for this reason. Now seek out those who would lose what you hold dear. Do not let darkness mar what you love."

Now new strength was in him as one who has seen the Valar.

"There are gifts you should be given. Osse would help you if you go to the great sea. Now look apon me and know all of the great works are not gone. Know no fear or pain for I have shown you all is never lost."


With that Ulmo was gone. He had given Eruanalon great strength. There was tasks for him to do. He would also meet the servent of Ulmo. He would give him what he needed.


So now he journed to the sea. His body had never known such strength. He was now ready for all to come in this life. He was to help all that had needed him. He would not be alone in life. All was saved but his tasked where to be many.

There apon the shores he sang again. the song had reached Osse. There he stood on the shores. With him was another of his kind. So they said to him.

"I am the servent of Ulmo. This is the servent of Lorien. We where bid to give you your gift. Your suffering was heard by Manwe. He was moved by your songs as was Ulmo and orthers. We where given this gift that was to ease your burden. It will give you what is needed. For no man has made song of such pain as yours. Take now and help who need you."

Then he gave to me the instrument that I have now. My life is ever with it. One day I shall sing apon the shores. Then they will come for my instrument. Then I will find a place to lay ever after. No songs will I sing or battels will I see. I will have the rest only the mortal know.

For with this instrument I have known the friendship of all of the living things of Arda. In me there is memory of long forgotten things. I am old but do not seem it. I am young but weary. Still I find happyness in those I have helped and will help. All of the fair things left in Arda I have seen. But now is the fading time. So my time here grows shorter.


That is the story of my beginning, my friend. The end is only known when it comes. The gifts I was given to help in battle must go back to the people that gave them. My instrument will go back where it came from. Then I will know rest."

[Himaran]

Bali and his companions stood around the native's body in silence. Erulon was helping the few injured or unconcious, but most were too shocked to even move. They had been attacked by a person - a person from a strange land. A deadly warrior had nearly overpowered an entire company of fighters; if the dwarves had ever felt despair and fear, it was now. Bali decided that the trance needed to end. "Bury the body, and collect your weapons. There is no treasure here; just a cursed jungle and a treacherous ocean. It is beautiful, yes, but evil. It has already claimed one of our live's, and that is too many for me!"

It took two hours for the wounded to recover enough to travel, and Bali was already nervous. His and Haenir's suspicions had been fulfilled: Rhûnian's did exist, and were hostile to outsiders. They had to get out of the land as soon as possible, despite the fact that no treasure had been found. Rhûn was a place of deception; it was a place where nightmares, not dreams, came true.

"We head north up the canyon," Bali announced. "Than west along its edge, until we can scale it and find a way back over the mountains. We will make it, but not without cost." He was quiet for a moment, and suddenly walked away from the others and down towards the sea. Finding a piece of driftwood, he etched a sentence in it with his knife, before placing it in a nitch in a group of rocks. A single arrow shot from the elf's bow, soaring into the sun before dipping and falling down towards the sea. It vanished into the waters, sinking down through the depths until resting on the rocky bottom. "Goodbye, Kain," Bali said loudly. "May your new journey be blessed." Then he turned, and the entire company followed him away from the sea.

______________________


The final blow to the company's already strained morale was when the weather turned for the worse. There had been no rain for the weeks that they had travelled in Rhûn, and now a turrential downpour drenched them as the weary band heading north through the canyon. The wind began to blow, and it seemed as if the entire rock passage would give way. "We must get out of this," Arasinel yelled over the storm. Then they saw the crack in the eastern side of the plateau. The group had not ventured there previously, but the prospect of getting to a dry overhang dispersed past fears. "Perhaps we will find a dry place to stay until this quits," shouted Gortek. "Common, lads!"

Everyone waited to hear Bali's opinon. He seemed nervous, looking behind them and scanning the ground. Then he shrugged. "What could it hurt? Perhaps you are right." And so they entered the passage.

(in progress - will finish post later)

[Saraphim]

"Elders, we have found something beyond anything that has been seen in our lands before"

Nephil stood before the Council of Elders. Maulka stood to his side, arms crossed.

Nephil had rarely spoken to the Elders, and it was a rather new experience to speak in a room that was filled, not only with the leaders of his community, but with many watchers who stood behind him as well. Nephil took a deep breath and continued:

"There is at this moment a group of travelers in the forest, whose very visage is unkown to us. All but two are small and rather stubby, and the others, while in shape like us, are different in many ways. One seems... "

But Nephil could find no words to describe the human-like creature that was not human, and, after a hesitation, went on:

"The entire group seems to have been looking for something, but what it is is impossible to tell. They found...they found the Lake, and disgraced it with thier foul, outsider flesh. One was destroyed by the holy fish, and it was then the Bestialan attacked. He fought well, but the sheer numbers of the enemy were overpowering. Maulka and I had no wish to ourselves join him in death, so we watched from the shadows as he was killed. After the battle, we came directly here, to seek your..."

A rustling and voices from the back of the room interrupted Nephil, who turned, along with everyone else to see a gaurd rush panting in.

"We have intruders, in the caves!" the gaurd said, "Strange folk, outsiders!"

"It is them," said Nephil, turning back to the Council, "With your permission..."

The Head of the Council spoke, his old voice creaking, but full of strength, "Go, you two, and take many hardy warriors along. Prove to them what it means to trespass in the land of Rhun!"

Nephil nodded and ran from the room, followed by Maulka and the gaurd, and many others who were armed and ready to fight.

[Will Witfoot]

Gortek rubbed the scar the strange jungle man had inflicted upon his brow, just above his right eye. The rain was making the wound itch, but it was better than loosing sight from the other eye as well. That would be inconvenient to say the least.

The others trudged on beside him, grey panthoms behind the fleeting curtain of rain, silent as the dead. All their hopes about the fabulous riches of Rhûn had been dashed, and they would indeed be lucky if they managed to get out at all. The whole place had turned out to be one big death-trap.

The rain lashed at them like a thousand tiny deamon whips, and the wind tore at the members of the group like some savage beast clawing at it's prey.

"We must get out of this!" Yelled Arasiniel, his words barely audible over the storm. Gortek couldn't agree more. The stone floor of the Canyon was slippery from the rain and at some parts flowing water made it nigh impossible to move on.
The question was; where could they go? There was no shelter nearby, and camping on the spot was out of question. That was when Gortek's gaze fell upon a crack in the eastern side of the plateau. The others noticed it too, and all misgivings that each of them harbored for this land were laid aside by the prospect of shelter.

"Perhaps we will find a dry place to stay until this quits," shouted Gortek. "Common, lads!" Balin agreed to this, and they entered the cave.

Gortek was glad to get out of the rain. In all his journeys he had never witnessed such a storm. It seemed Rhûn was hell-bent on hounding them to their deaths rather than letting them escape, unpunished for their sacrilege.
To distract himself from these dark thoughts he began to explore the cave. It turned out to be many caves rather than one, linked together by tunnels uncounted. Whether originally hand-crafted or formed by nature it was difficult to say for certain, but Gortek only hoped that the caves held no unpleasant surprises. There had been enough of those recently, and even the mad dwarf's spirit was at it's lowest ebb to date.

[Himaran]

As the door gave way, Bali dropped his hand and threw his weapon. Four shafts and five hatchets peppered the attackers, one of whom was felled instantly. The others stumbled over his body, (cursing in their native tongue), before reaching close range with their targets. "Defend yourselves!" was all the dwarf could shout before the enemy reached his company.

Bali dodged an attacker's blade, ducked a spear thrust and rolled over to the side, severing the rod in half. The Rhûnian slipped a knife out of his belt, swinging remaining section of his spear as a club. The dwarf leaped back, ducked again, then slashed with his single-headed Ereborian axe in a deadly upward swipe. The fight should have ended there. But it didn't.

The man had flipped overtop of the dwarf, and swung his club in mid-air. The short pole connected with the back of Bali's skull, and he stumbled forward; an explosion of light filling his vision. On his stomach, the dwarf rolled over instinctively, hearing the crack of his oppenent's knife hitting the floor. The warrior kicked his legs around, a move which the Rhûnian did not expect; as he was toppled to the ground.

Bali was the first to his feet, twirling to the side as the thrown knife whistled past his head before bouncing off the ceiling. The dwarf turned swiftly and swung his weapon down, finding a rest in the Rhûnian's chest. Just then, another attacker fell into him, and they both landed heavily on the rough stone. Bali immediately had his knife in his hand, but his oppenent had a larger weapon. The dwarf countered several blows, moving backwards. Then he shouted, "Erulon!" The ranger had a shaft in his bow and released it with perfect precision as his friend ducked. The arrow zipped into the Rhûnian's neck, and he fell to the ground with a quiet gurgle.

[Himaran]

Fordim Hedgethistle's Post

Hænir’s axe was in his hands before the arrow that had embedded itself in the ground by Erulon’s hand had stopped shivering. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at the surrounding trees and his nose twitched for the scent of danger.

The long days of their forced march had begun to dull his spirits and place upon him the heavy burden of his cowardice during the attack upon their companions. Bali’s words had been wise that day, they had been no match for the numbers of enemies they had stumbled upon, but still Hænir had had difficulty in accepting that hard truth. Never before had he fled before an enemy…and never again would he. ‘Tis better to die in the defence of friends and pursuit of honour than to flee to protect one’s hide he told himself for the thousandth time.

Beside him stood Nerin, nervously clutching his weapons and glaring at the woods. Hænir had taken a liking to quiet fellow in their journey and in their conversations he had found that they had much in common. It was obvious that the younger Dwarf looked to Hænir for guidance in this quest, and it was only with the greatest reluctance that Hænir had accepted the silent charge of duty that this placed upon him. To the other side stood Bali, who had snapped to alert as quickly as Hænir. For a moment, the party stood quietly awaiting whatever else was to follow the arrow, but the woods remained silent. “What think you of that, Master Bali?” Hænir asked under his breath. “More orcs?”

“I think not,” was the reply. “That arrow is not of orcish make.”

“Well,” Hænir said, “whoever shot it is not being overly friendly. Ahoy there!” he bellowed, “If you wish to pick a fight with us then come out in the open where we can see you and we’ll be happy to oblige you. But if you’d rather play hide-a-seek like young ones then be off with you, for we have no time for such amusements!” At first it seemed that the silence would be their only response, but the three figures stepped from the trees and advanced toward them…

[Himaran]

Will Witfoot's post - Gortek

Gortek and Arasiniel made their way back to the campsite. Gortek's wrath had already been cooled by the appology of the man, but dwarfs by nature were a stubborn lot. Forgiving the ranger so soon seemed impossible somehow.
As they entered the clearing in which their common camp with the elf, Raendin, was situated, they found the elf already packing his things as if expecting to leave at any moment. Gortek himself felt a strange predicament nagging in the back of his head, and he had found these kind of impulses to be right on many an occasion, so he made ready his own things.

He had just got all of his few belongings packed and was just fumbling for his pipe, when he thought he caught the sound of something approaching. His senses, honed by years of living in the wild, instantly alerted him to any possible danger connected with the noise. He glanced at his companions and could tell that they had sensed it also, and three such persons so accustomed to the outdoors were highly unlikely to be mistaken on such a matter.
Now they all could definitely hear something approaching. Reaching a wordless agreement they dived into the cover of the trees like wraiths, even Gortek moving with a stealth that his short, stocky body seemed to dennie. Readying their weapons, the trio made ready for whatever was approaching.

They had only waited for a few minutes at the most when a group of creatures entered the small glade. Gortek squinted with his one good eye and mentally cursed his poor sight. The arivals were talking amidst themselves.

"Man, elf and dwarf tracks. Been here for some time."

The gruff voice and guttural accent drained some of the tension out of Gortek. At least they were dwarfs.

"Aye, a month or two at least. But why? The weather is fine, but what about shelter? They have none!"

Gortek was now completely relaxed, lulled into calm by the familiar sound of the strangers voices. He kept his sword ready though, just in case. You could not even be sure of your own kin at these times.
He saw one of the newcomers move over to their still warm fire pit and reach out with his hand, probing the ash.

"Warm. This wood was burning an hour ago."

Thwang! It seemed that the elf did not quite share Gortek's calm. The arrow he had loosed embedded itself into the ground scant inches away from the stranger's hand. It was met with a challenge from one of the newcomers.
Glancing at each other, the three travellers stepped into the clearing.

Gortek surveyed the newly arrived party from head to toe. Most of them were quite young by dwarfish standards.
He knuckled the eye patch that covered his left eye and grinned, atlast speaking into the silence.

"These ain't orcs by the looks of things, eh?" The statement was followed by a bout of jolly, if somewhat insane bout of laughter.

"Gortek, called sometimes 'the Mad-eye' at your service. Now who are you beardlings?".

[Saraphim]

Naphril stood impatiently at the entrance of his cousin's forge, looking in at the blacksmith himself, who was pounding a a blinding-hot spearhead with a heavy mallet. The noise was too loud for them to communicate, and the heat of the furnace too uncomfortable for Nephil to close enough to hear anyway.

Corith finally stood up straight and set his mallet down leaning on the wall. Taking off his protective mask, he pulled two rough wooden stools over to the doorframe where Nephil was standing.

"If you don't tell me something, Corith, I'll weld you to the wall," said Nephil impatiantly.

Corith smiled, "That's an unfounded threat. We both know that you wouldn't get near enough to the forge to melt a candle."

Nephil stared at him silently.

"Fine, I'll tell you," said Corith, "but first you have to tell me what happened with the catch today."

Nephril gave in, "Well, first of all, I didn't even see it. Some huge warrior named Kínadhen was blocking the entire door. But two others did show up."

"I know of Kinadhen. No one gets past him. But go on, please."

"You try my patience Corith. But the others were some exceedingly serious woman and Bestialán, the one you made the maces for." finished Nephil, "Now tell me, please! I know about the council meeting to decide what to do with the catch, but what else?"

"Well," began Corith, "I hear from Tarrela, whos brother's mother-in-law is actually on the council, that they're having a feast and an open discussion about the catch."

Nephil looked at him. "That's all?"

Corith nodded.

Nephil slumped. "I already knew that, you fool" He stood up and left, walking down the hallway to his room.

"Well then what are you going to do?" called Corith, leaning out of the open doorway.

"I'm going out!" yelled Nephil, who emerged from his room strapping on his weapons.

"Bring back something nice!" called Corith after Nephil's retreating back.

Nephil pounded along the corridors impatiently, looking for Bestialán. He emerged into a public room and spotted him, leaning against a wall and speaking softly to the woman from earlier.

"Bestialán!" called Nephril.

Bestialán turned to look at Nephil.

"I'm going out. Catches don't usually travel alone. If we hurry, there might be more, but not if we sit here and wait for the council to decide."

"Why do you want me to go with you?" asked Bestialán suspiciusly.

"Because if we went out alone, and against each other, you would probably kill me and take whatever I find for yourself. Of course, there is also the possibility that you might betray me no matter what the circumstances, but I'm willing to take that chance."

Bestialán looked at Nephil scrupulously. The woman watched this exchange blankly.

"My invitation is extended to you as well," added Nephil to her. He waited for thier answers with an unreadable look on his face.

[Arestevana]

Maulká watched impassively as Nephil talked to Bestialán about taking another catch. She had to admit, he did have a point about the creatures traveling in groups. It came as an unexpected but pleasant surprise when Nephil invited her as well. She pondered it for a moment.

What had the man said? Oh yes, ‘You would probably kill me and take whatever I find for yourself.’ Well, the idea was tempting, but she knew she stood no chance against Bestialán, and from the small amount she had learned of Nephil, he could likely best her on the jungle as well. It was the price she paid for the infrequency of her surface trips. And though it might differ with a catch as the prize, for Maulká the joy was in the hunt rather than in the glory of a victorious return.

She turned to Nephil. “A kind offer. I thank you for the invitation—I would be pleased to accompany you,” said she, though the courtesy pained her. Loath as she was to admit it, she was looking forward to a cooperative hunt. Even if the catch had companions which waited nearby, a single hunter could not hope to capture (or even avoid being slain by) a group. With more than one hunter though, such a quarry was not out of reach.

There is a rack of javelins in the second lower corridor. Maulká thought, remembering the feel of the fire-hardened wood in her hand. Having accepted the invitation, she was sorely tempted to ask ‘When do you go?’ Trying to maintain an expression of patient attentiveness over her excitement, she stared eagerly at Bestialán, awaiting his response to Nephil’s invitation.