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[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 pushed on through the jungle at the head of the party, tired and weak. They had lost their provisons, their map, and their equipment. All they had left were weapons and jungle; the latter of which each would have traded for a slice of warm bread. The dwarf knew that they would soon grow hungry. He had to find food; meat, preferably. After hunger set in, muntiny would be at hand. And Bali did not want to argue with Haenir again.

The elf happened to walk up beside Bali at that time, and the dwarf talked to him in a low tone. "You are an elf, with senses keener then most. I will stop the party up ahead. Can you slip away and scout ahead a little?"

"Certainly, master dwarf." The elf seemed surprised that a dwarf even wished to talk to him, let alone ask him to perform a favor. And so he moved off into the jungle.

Walking swiftly, the dwarf did not see the sharp rock approaching. Suddenly he gasped in pain and sat heavily on the hard, dusty ground. Blood was pouring from his foot, and searing pain shot through his entire leg. Bali quickly pulled the single napkin from his pocket and rapped it around his foot. He tied it off, and it held the blood. But the pain remained.

"We must halt for a while," he announced, much to the relief of the rest of the company. And then it attacked.

A warg of some sort leap out of the underbrush. It knocked Bali over and, ignoring him, charged the rest. It had an incredibly long and sinewy tail, which it used as a weapon, cracking Kain over the head and rendering him unconcious. It bullied through everyone, not stopping untill all had tripped or fallen. Then it turned for the kill, picking Durin as its target.

Bali, being hit first, already had his wind back; and stumbled to his feet. Seeing the creature plod towards the lying form of Durin, he pulled a hatchet out of his belt and hurled it. The flying weapon hit the warg in the side, and the creature turned in anger and pain. Pulling up his axe, Bali growled. "Alright, come and finish it laddie! The warg charged him. Bali ducked to the side and hit a glancing blow on its flank, but it whirled around and charged again. Bali stepped back and tripped over a rock. As he tumbled to the ground, the elf burst into the clearing and released a taunt shaft at the warg. The arrow hit the beast in the neck; it gurgled, struggled, and died.

Standing gingerly and favoring his right foot, Bali turned to the members of his company slowly moving around. "I guess meat's back on the menu, lads!"

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Hænir had eaten some gamey things in his day, but the taste of Warg was one he was not likely to forget. He had thought that days of walking through a dangerous, insect infested jungle on short rations would have rendered him ready to eat just about anything, but the vile taste of the beast that Bali had brought down was almost more than he could bear. Still, in the end his hunger overcame his repugnance and he found himself gobbling down slice after slice of the beast.

The food went some way to repairing his mood, but still the anger and anxiety that seethed within him raged. He was not sure what or who, precisely, he was angry at. For days he had directed his rage at Bali, assuming that the discontent he felt was the result of poor leadership. But recent events had forced him to confront the very difficult fact that Bali was, indeed, a capable and competent Dwarf, fully in charge of himself and the situation. He had not panicked as had the others when the snake bit Dwalin; he had kept his head level when Gortek went over the cliff, and that had been a fine piece of fighting with the warg. Even Bali’s obstinate refusal to confront openly the truth of the fact that they were being stalked by the mysterious denizens of this land had some sense in it. Hænir did not agree with the decision to keep quiet about their danger, but he respected Bali’s right to decide that.

Hænir tore off another tough hunk of meat and chewed it contemplatively as he pursued his elusive thoughts. His unease had been growing ever since they had come out of the mountains. It was not the thought of their danger – which was real – for he had spent a lifetime preparing for adventures such as these, and he had been through worse (well, just as bad). He heard Nerin grumble about the insects, and his eye fell upon the sullen aspects of the other Dwarves. Like the flash of gold suddenly chipped free by the pick he understood that his temper had been roused not by Bali’s lack of leadership – for there had been no lack of leading, on the contrary, sometimes there had been more than enough leading for Hænir’s tastes – but by the company’s inability to cohere into the type of tightly-knit group that he had spent his life amongst. A sudden, overwhelming longing for the King’s Companions came over him, but he was hundreds of leagues from them now.

A shift in the wind brought an odd scent to Hænir and he froze, the better to catch it. It was an odd scent, one he had never encountered before, and it quickly vanished, as though the animal had sensed that the wind had come round. Only predators kept downwind of what they were following. Making as casual a show of it as possible, Hænir got up and, taking his axe in hand, said that he was going for more firewood. He leaned down to speak with Bali, quickly whispering that he should come. Bali was surprised, and was about to protest that he could not come as his foot was still paining him terribly, but seeing the glint in Hænir’s eye, he dropped his meat and joined him.

As they disappeared into the woods, Hænir quietly explained the scent he had picked up and indicated the direction it had come from. They pressed ahead into the woods, Bali wincing with each step but determined not to let Hænir see his discomfort, their axes at the ready. They passed through a screen of brush and into a small clearing. They both instantly saw the tracks of several people about, as well as signs that someone had lain on the ground as though in hiding. The signs were so fresh that some of the grass was still unbending from the sudden release of a person’s weight. Immediately, the Dwarves’ axes were up and prepared. Bali was the first to speak. “It is as I feared, we are being followed.”

“Aye,” growled Hænir, “and we have been for some days now.” He did not mention the falling tree, nor did he need to, for Bali understood him. “Where do you think they’ve gone?”

Bali shrugged and looked about. “I don’t know. The tracks are confusing.”

“Well, whoever they are, I just wish that they would attack and be done with it!”

Bali looked squarely at Hænir. “You would not wish so if it were to happen. We are in no shape to hold off a sustained attack of any kind, much less so now than ever we were when the orcs came upon us.” He saw Hænir flinch at the memory, and recalled the shame Hænir still felt at having left Durin and Dwalin behind. “I know that the memory galls you – I am afraid, Hænir, that you have become far too incautious because of it. Just because you were unable single-handedly to defeat the orcs, don’t look now to throw away your life in a hopeless battle simply to prove to yourself that you are not a coward.”

Hænir’s eyes shifted away from Bali’s as his face flushed red beneath his beard. Until this moment, he had not realized this about himself – and his respect for their leader went up once more. “Well,” he said roughly, to cover his emotion, “I do not think there will be any fight this day; whoever is stalking us has apparently decided to keep in hiding for now. Let us rejoin the others.” They turned and headed back to the camp. As they were nearing the others, a branch fell from above them and they only were just able to leap aside as is crashed through the brush. A quick examination revealed only that the branch was healthy and had no reason to fall, but there was no indication that it had been acted upon by anyone. Still, Hænir and Bali exchanged knowing looks before hurrying back to join their companions.