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Old 04-12-2004, 03:29 PM   #201
Imladris
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Tolkien Lira

Lira considered, wondering if she should even mention her concerns. She did not know much about vampires…was almost completely ignorant of them. The sky growled with angry thunder and long fingers of lightening clutched at the far mountain tops. It began to rain.

Swallowing, Lira said, “I believe that this master might be a vampire named Thuringwethil, Woman of Shadow. It was rumored that she was destroyed along with Sauron’s Isle, but her death was never confirmed.” Lira paused, and continued. “She was the fell bat of Melkor, his messenger. She had iron claws as well. Vampires are blood suckers, but whether she would drink it to extend her life I know not.”

Lira fell silent, chewing on her words. Not much was known about Thuringwethil. How could she still be alive?
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Old 04-14-2004, 02:10 PM   #202
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The Eye

The roar of thunder fell on the company like an anvil, lightning flashed and for a few precious seconds made everthing visible before it fell back into darkness. Lira spoke up against the thunder.

“I believe that this master might be a vampire named Thuringwethil, Woman of Shadow. It was rumored that she was destroyed along with Sauron’s Isle, but her death was never confirmed.” Lira paused, and continued. “She was the fell bat of Melkor, his messenger. She had iron claws as well. Vampires are blood suckers, but whether she would drink it to extend her life I know not.”

Vampires were rare and therefore Esgallhugwen knew little of them; a flash flew across their heads, "they are difficult, if not impossible to kill" her words were barely audible over the rumbling above them. If her death was never confirmed then it was all too possible that Thuringwethil was yet alive.

Do not single her out as the only probable candidate for the Master, there are others, one is bad enough without worrying about possible others. She looked at Furman "is that all you can tell us?".

Esgallhugwen glanced around their campsite, the large tree she was under no longer could hold up the heavy rain fall, water dripped across her face looking like tears. "There won't be a fire tonight", she returned her gaze to Furman and awaited his answer.
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Old 04-14-2004, 08:46 PM   #203
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Tolkien Northern Edge of Hills of Evendim

Furman covered his head with his hood and looked at Eswen. "I can tell you that this storm is coveted by the Master. I do not understand how it may be, but they say that on nights like this, full of storm, he is sure to take a victim. He has been waiting long for such weather, it has been so calm. Pray that his Eodwine is not first on the Master's list this night."

Sleep came fitfully to the party through the long hours until dawn.

The rain did not stop, and the sun's rising was hidden by the heavy downpour. The were slowed by the wet going, but it was well that it rained; for the Master's troops stayed in, not fearing invasion so far from any settlement. All day the rain poured, and slowed them as they wound their way through the hills, avoiding the Master's main road to be safe.

The next rain-soaked night gave them no better rest.

The next morning dawned as dim as the previous day, and passed just as wet and uncomfortably. As the sky began to dim toward twilight, Furman directed them to the top of a hill, over the brow of which could be seen a fortress on the next hill. It was as humble as Furman had told them. There were no trees about, but fields with low brush. It would be impossible to approach with horses unless no one was looking their way.

Furman explained that they must go to the east side of the fortress, where they would find a ditch and a narrow pipe. They would have to crawl up the pipe into the fortress. It would stink. They would not be able to use their weapons until they came out of the pipe. In other words, it would be dangerous, but it was the only way. Unless they wanted to storm the fortress with their small numbers. Once Furman was done explaining, he looked around the group to see if there would be any questions or complaints, now that they saw what would be necessary.
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Old 04-15-2004, 12:27 PM   #204
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Tolkien

“Well, Anson,” I said. “Safe at last. I never realized how troublesome and adventure can be.”

Anson nodded and said, “I would like to get a pipe and a bit of tobacco.”

“I don’t believe we’ll find any here, though,” I sighed, kicking at a stone. It danced away through the tufts of grass and skittered to a stop. I trotted after it and kicked it again where it pattered off into a forest of weeds and stones. I was too lazy to go and look for it so I said, “From insane adventure to complete boredom.” I wondered if there was a happy medium between the two. More than likely not, I presumed and sighed.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if we had a nice hobbit hole and a fire and our gardens,” Anson said, patting me on the back.

I nodded glumly and collapsed onto the ground, which creaked in protest. A voice within the ground. Fingers of chillness traced my skin as I imagined a morbid wight creeping within the dirt. I shuddered and rolled off the mat, brushing the dirt away. A wooden trap door was revealed to us.
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Old 04-15-2004, 10:05 PM   #205
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The thunder rolled like the ocean across the sky, accompanied by the stacatto flashes of lightning in the dark, morbid sky. Rain fell heavily in great dollops, soaking all below. The chill seemed to seep to the bone and memories of sun and dry clothes were swept away to only be recalled like remnants of a dream.

It all seemed like a dream. Lumiel was riding behind Thoromir and the Rangers on her horse, whom she had decided to name Felweth. Her dark cloak lay heavy on her skin, her brown hair plastered to her head and face. Small puffs of air blew from Felweth's nostrils, and the thought of a dragon sleeping dangerously in its lair flashed across her mind.

Beside her rode Furman, bent over in his saddle, his form a dark, unreadable shadow. She felt something for this man, a sympathy for his plight, a connection that went beyond the simple rope that linked his bound hands to her small hand which held the rope. As anxious as he had been to talk before, he was now silent and pensive, loath to speak or interact with anyone. But Lumiel had managed to get a few words out of him when they had stopped to rest.

She had asked him what he knew of the Master, but he would speak nothing of it to anyone save Thoromir, when he asked. She did not press the matter, he had his reasons she supposed. Instead, she asked him of his life before what he had become. He did not understand, but he seemed willing to talk of it.

He spoke of his home, where he grew up. A mother, a father, and a much older sister who married and moved far away when he was but a boy. His mother had died a few years later giving birth to a still-born child. With nothing to keep them tied down, they left for a life in the wilderness, away from the world. There he learned to hunt and track, he learned the ways of the woods, and of the woodsman. His father died an old, but strong man, and Furman continued his accepted life. Until he stumbled unknowingly at the time across such a malevolent force as they now faced.

His voice was soft and halting, and he did not meet her gaze. It seemed he could not. But he spoke. Lumiel never interupted him, but held her attention on him, encouraging him with her silent acceptance of what was. It was what he needed. How could he come to terms with what he had done? With what he had been a part of? He did not know where to begin the healing that he so desperately needed to be whole again. Yet somehow, speaking to this elf helped him...speaking of his past, of his once joyful innocence, helped him regain some of who he had been before. It seemed he could almost like her, almost enjoy her company. Almost. He seemed stubborn in his punishment against himself. He was unworthy of all who were there, he didn't deserve to live. And certainly he was beyond sympathy. Or so he thought.

He could not banish it anymore. As much as he tried to exile himself, he could not, for Lumiel was always there, silent and accepting. How was it possible? he asked himself again. And finally, he broke his silence on the matter. "Lady Elf, why do you linger? Why do you dote upon the needs of such a hellish fool as this?" he guestured to himself. "I am undeserving of your care and sympathy, save it for Eodwine, for the others for whom you fight. Remember how you found me." he said, looking into her eyes, pleading with her to give him the damnation he wanted.

Her eyes softened and her brows angled just slightly, and a strange expression of pity and regret mingled with an unconditional love of all things played out on her face. "You do yourself wrong, Furman. A fool you may be, but no more so than any other on this Earth. It is better to knowingly play the fool than laugh at one, not knowing that you are the true fool." she paused, gauging his face. "You didn't start off intending this, Furman. But you were a part of it. And here you are, trying to right what you did. You will need all your strength and bravery, and for that I give you willingly my care and sympathy, for in the end it may save Eodwine." she said. Furman swallowed and took in a deep breath, looking away. A faint sparkle was in his eyes, nearly hidden under the shadow of his bent brow. Lumiel gently turned his face to meet hers once more. "I believe in you." she said in a gentle yet strong voice that seemed to reach him.

"Thank you Lady Elf." he said, looking down again. His road out of all of this would be long and hard, and he hardly realized it yet.

"Please, call me Lumiel." she smiled at him as they stood up to remount and begin their journey again. Felweth labored through the mud stoutly, and several hours later they stopped once more, and Furman told Thoronmir the rest of what he knew. The fortress was within sight. The end was nearing. They were at the center of the storm.
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Old 04-16-2004, 01:18 PM   #206
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Shield Anson

A shiver went through Anson and he put out a hand to stop Gorby, forming on his lips the word stop. Yet he never spoke that word. Rather, he stopped himself and a different kind of shiver went through him. A shiver of excitement. For a brief moment he was back in the Shire with Gorby and they were mere children. They had just discovered a secret trapdoor by Merry Brandybuck's home and were debating over whether they should open it or not.

He could smell the grass as they crouched down by it, soft curls falling in their round, inquisitive faces. Gorby had wanted to open it right away; Anson had been afraid there might be a monster locked up inside there, something Meriadoc had caught in his adventures. Gorby had gone into a long narrative of what they would do to the monster when it came up, ending with it lying slain and the two hobbit children crowned heroes for saving the Shire, and Anson had relented... in that point, at least. His next objection was that Meriadoc might not like it. Gorby hadn't been able to answer that, but he didn't care.

Gorby had pulled open the trapdoor, babbling something about hidden treasure, and when the slow creaking had died away and there was nothing but a murky blackness and a deep pit that seemed to go on forever he had lightly jumped in without hesitating. Anson, too terrified to stay by himself though the sunshine surrounded him, had followed.

Inside they had found nothing... nothing? Nay, they had found hidden treasure of a sort. All sorts of pretty baubles sat here and there, bright-colored balls and richly painted toys. They had gazed about in awe, their little fingers yearning to touch those toys and play with them. And then they had heard that loud laugh and turned and, oh the horror, seen Meriadoc Brandybuck, his gaze fixed straight at them, laughing. Anson had always felt awed by Merry Brandybuck and a bit uncertain about them. It wasn't natural for a Hobbit to go have adventures. For a moment it flashed through his mind that Meriadoc Brandybuck had gone on adventures because he was insane and now he was going to lock them up in that dark room forever.

But Meriadoc had ceased to laugh and looked about him with a helpless gesture at all the toys. "I see you've found this little lair," he said. "My children's lair." He had paused a moment, then a broad smile had come to his face. "Would you like to play with the toys?" he had asked. The two children had not answered, for they were still rather surprised, but they had eagerly leapt at those bright things and had spent a merry two hours playing, and Meriadoc Brandybuck had actually played with them.

Anson stared at this new trapdoor and a little smile flickered across his features. They might not find toys but perhaps they'd find something delightful, such as pipes and tobacco. And if they found a monster they'd just have to carry out Gorby's plan of yore.... what a shock Lira would have when she returned and found they had slain a fierce monster.

He touched Gorby's shoulder. "Let's open it."
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Old 04-17-2004, 01:00 PM   #207
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Tolkien

Gorby

I was surprised that Anson of all people wanted to go down into the trap door. But I couldn’t be more thrilled…finally he wanted to go on an adventure!

The trap door didn’t open very easily. I was afraid we would have to get an axe and chop it open, but Anson discovered a lock that I had overlooked. It wasn’t rusted like the other one had been, but we had a terrible time opening it all the same.

The door opened quietly, without a creaking protest, which was nice. It always made me uncomfortable when a door creaks…it just makes everything more spooky.

There was a iron ladder which Anson and I clambered down. The tunnel wasn’t pitch black like the first one I had discovered which was nice. Blackness is a herald of doom and doom usually means death.

We crept into a large room. Gold over spilled from dusty bags and large wooden chests. Gems sparkled upon the floor and were imbedded in the blades of axes and swords. My jaw dropped, my eyes widen. So much wealth! Then we heard a low, snarling, growl.


Lira

Lira listened to Furman’s plan and said, “Will we not be slain anyway once we leave the pipe?” There was a short pause, and Lira continued, “Is there no way we could go in disguise there?”

She waited again, praying that they would not have to risk their lives in such a way. Then she laughed. It was musical, like water. What craven coward she was. Afraid to go into a fortress because lives would be risked. Had not thousands of other brave warriors risked their lives?
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Old 04-17-2004, 06:29 PM   #208
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littlemanpoet is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.littlemanpoet is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
Tolkien

Lira asked her question, then laughed. Furman regarded her in confusion.

Falowik spoke up. "We could try going in using a wagon, as if most of us were prisoners or slaves, but that would take time. I fear for Eodwine's life this night. I would that we go as soon as we may, even if I have to drown in that watery pipe in such a storm as this."

Falco stood. "If the Wanderer is willing to risk his life, then this hobbit shirriff can do no less. I will go tonight and face what danger may come."
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Old 04-17-2004, 09:06 PM   #209
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Eye Thoronmir

"I will also go, even if there is no other way but through this pipe," Thoronmir said. "For I have sworn an oath as a Ranger to guard this land against evil, even if those under my protection do not appreciate it." He looked knowingly at Falco as he said this last part.

"But I must have some clear idea of what we will be facing once we are inside," he continued. "Furman," he said to their captive. "Tell me all that you know of the Master."
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Old 04-18-2004, 05:26 AM   #210
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Tolkien Furman

"I have been in the fortress, or I would not know of the pipe. The Master chooses to keep his fortress cleansed of rubbish, unlike most such abodes. So his slaves are ordered to sweep and shovel away food that is tossed away after it is eaten, and human dung, and any other filth that collects in the fortress. Even the prison cells below are kept clean. I wager this is so that the blood he collects is unspoilt.

"The upper floor is no more than a ring of rooms built from the wall of the fortress. One gets to them by stairs at each corner. It is much like any fortress without lookout posts along the walls. The main floor has matching rooms beneath the ones above. In the center of the main floor is a square gutter down which all the rubbish is dumped. It is caught in a round basin below. From the basin extends another gutter, which leads to the wall, where it joins the pipe. The gutter passes by the prison cells. If Eodwine is in one of the cells, the pipe into the fortress leads us to him by the shortest way.

"If Eodwine is not in the prison cells, then he has been taken by the Master to the temple, which is on the main floor. The temple is walled off from the rest of the fortress, its own little house within the larger house. I have not been inside it and can tell you nothing about it. If the Master has taken Eodwine in there, our only hope is to overcome the guards we meet, and fight our way in. We would lose more lives trying to save Eodwine than we would if we let the Master have him."

Falowik stood. "That is a cold, calculating thing to have said, Furman. It may be true, but we have sworn to save Eodwine, and to save any others that we may. So if it is as you say within the fortress, be assured that we will free what prisoners we may, as Falco did back at Lake Evendim. Who knows? It may be that they can help us to overcome the Master's guards."

"Aye," said Furman, "that may be. I hope so. I have told you all I know."

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Old 04-18-2004, 04:56 PM   #211
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The Eye

Esgallhugwen

An uneasyness infected the company as they neared their destination, what would become of them if they managed to come out of the pipe alive? "Furman", Esgallhugwen asked gently attracting his attention "do you know how many gaurds are usually about the confines? It would be helpful in our cause".

The bent man nodded, " four large men gaurd the main gate but I hope for us not to go that way. No one gaurds the pipe and from what I've seen about only two or so men gaurd the stairwell entrances. I know not of how many more there could be, or how many are posted at the inner house, if any".

Esgallhugwen nodded "my thanks Furman, Falowik fears for Eodwine this night, would it be wise to use the storm as cover for our entrance, getting to the other end of the pipe will be no easy task, and if the storm is trully coveted by the Master our fates may await us in the inner house".

Kildirak

Kildirak's green eyes shot open with a start, the cracking of thunder above him sounded too much like the cracking of a whip. He sat up in bed allowing his eyes to adjust to the candle light.

His eyes focused across the hall, to his shock a hole seemed to be there that he had never seen before. With caution despite his slightly aching limbs he slid off the bed and crept towards the hole.

The floor creaked where the hinges met the upturned door, Kildirak slowly poked his head inside, he tiptoed into the tunnel at the end the glimmer of gold met his eyes. But that thought soon turned to distress when he saw two shadowed figures, whom he almost didn't recognize amidst the sparkling treasure, the sillouettes of their curly locks gave them away.

He was about to speak when a low growling sound came to his ears.

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Old 04-19-2004, 07:41 PM   #212
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Tolkien To the Fortress

In the end, none of the party wished to be left behind. They went back down the southern face of the hill as the storm raged above and around them, and kept to the lowest part of the valleys between the hills as they crept toward the pipe, which extended down the east side of the fortress hill. It was wettest where they passed, the torrents pouring downhill, and before long they were not only wet, but covered in slimy mud up to their necks.

They made the pipe. It was made of iron, and was rusted at its extremity, sharp edges ready to cut stray hands.

Falco forced his way among the Rangers in front and whispered hoarsely. "Thoronmir, let me go first! I'm quiet and small, and I see well enough in the dark. Let me scout it and pass word back!"
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Old 04-19-2004, 09:25 PM   #213
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Eye Thoronmir

Falco forced his way among the Rangers in front and whispered hoarsely. "Thoronmir, let me go first! I'm quiet and small, and I see well enough in the dark. Let me scout it and pass word back!"

"All right, Falco, you'll go first," Thoronmir said. "Get inside and whistle if you are okay. Don't take too much time looking around. If we don't hear from you within five minutes we'll all go in prepared for serious trouble."

"Okay," the hobbit said, "I'm going now." He started inside.

"Falco," the Ranger called after him. "Be careful in there, and good luck to you."
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Old 04-20-2004, 08:53 AM   #214
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Silmaril If we don't see each other again...

It was decided. They would all be a part of the rescue attempt. They made their way around carefully to the pipe, tying up their horses in a nearby yet secluded grove. Horses would be very dangerous to bring within, and they would have need of them when all was finished. If they lived, that was. Lumiel rubbed Felweth's nose affectionately and hugged his neck, whispering soft reassurances to him. Felweth nudged her neck and face in reply and whinnied softly, as if sure that he would see her again. Lumiel prayed that Felweth would be alright, that whatever evil fate might befall her would be spared of him. All she could do was have faith.

The rain came down in torrents, leaving nothing dry. Mud was inescapable, and they were soon covered from head to toe, or nearly so. "Thoronmir, let me go first! I'm quiet and small, and I see well enough in the dark. Let me scout it and pass word back!" said Falco in a hoarse voice. Despite her dislike of the hobbit's attitude in general, she had to admire him. Such small stature and such a quick seeming temper belied his courage and perseverance.

"All right, Falco, you'll go first," Thoronmir said. "Get inside and whistle if you are okay. Don't take too much time looking around. If we don't hear from you within five minutes we'll all go in prepared for serious trouble."

"Okay," the hobbit said, "I'm going now." He started inside.

"Falco," the Ranger called after him. "Be careful in there, and good luck to you."

Falco nodded and quickly scrambled into the pipe and was soon lost to sight and sound. She stood just behind Thoronmir and the Rangers, with Lira and Eswen behind her. She looked over to Furman, who crouched right beside her. He seemed anxious, but his face glowed with hope and something else. She kneeled next to him, ignoring the mud since she was already covered. "Furman, are you alright?" she asked him.

His eyes shot up to meet hers, as though he had been snapped awake from a dream. "What? Oh. Well, yes, better than I have been in a long time. But..." he paused, as if unsure how to continue. "I'm glad that you are all here, glad that you may be the beginning of the Master's demise. I'm glad that Eodwine may be saved, that others have already been saved. It's just - " he stopped, his already low voice halted by a look of Thornomir who put his finger to his mouth in a silencing guesture. Furman looked down with a pensive face and clenched his jaws, his still-bound hands laid across his knees.

Lumiel had a feeling of what he had been about to say and leaned in close, placing a hand to his shoulder and whispered quietly enough that the only evidence that she had spoken to any watching would have been the movement of her mouth. "It's just that you're afraid. I won't let you or any of the others die. Trust in me." she finished and pulled away again. Furman sighed in response and she could only hope that she had eased some of his anxiety.

She moved over a foot or so to Lira and Eswen and grasped one of each of their hands. "Mellon, may the Valar protect us." she spoke softly, loud enough just for elven hearing. She gave Lira a hug and whispered by her ear, "Life has been lost, but it will come again, it lives in you." She let go and looked at her with wide, expressive blue eyes, a warm smile on her face that seemed to banish the fear and danger of the moment away, at least for an instant.

She turned to Eswen and in turn gave her a hug as well. The tall, dark elf had always seemed somewhat aloof to her, but she had a large heart, Lumiel knew, and one filled with bravery and strength that could last through the darkest night until dawn. "Thank you, Eswen, but don't lose yourself in the night." she spoke to her. Ever since the first appearance of the Dark Queen, Lumiel worried. The Dark Queen was a powerful force, but one which she would not like to see dominate in Eswen. She believed in Esgallhugwen's strength though, to control it. She gave Eswen the same hopeful look she had given Lira and went to Finewen who was not far away.

She seemed alone and quiet, almost numb to the outside world. Her hand played over the handle of her blade and her look was a distant one. Lumiel sat down beside her and gently took one of her hands. "Please don't stay so far away." Lumiel said. "You're an amazing woman, Finewen, and you have such great promise." she whispered. She squeezed her hand once before letting go. Although they had not gotten to know one another very well, Lumiel probably shared the most in common with the young woman. Lumiel hoped she would survive. She hoped that they all would, but she had a dark sense that none of them would be the same when they came out. She stood and quietly walked to Falowik, pulling a stray hair behind her ear which had been plastered to her face.

She put out her hand and Falowik, a bit confused, grasped it tightly. Lumiel grasped their hands with her other hand and he did the same. "Uien would be proud. Never doubt yourself, you're stronger than you realize." Her soft blue eyes seemed set under her brow with a fiery strength, yet her face and her pose gave off a sense of youthful, almost naive hope. She gave one last squeeze of their hands and went back to her place by Furman.

Thoronmir looked at her with an expression half between rebuke and thankfullness. Before he could speak, she struck out her hand once again and he took it in a strong grip. They shook once, a good strong shake, and Lumiel mouthed to him, "Thank you." Without him, they most likely wouldn't have made it halfway through their journey alive. He had done so much for them, and "thank you" simply did not even come close to the gratitude they all owed him. Any further guesture she might have given was cut off by a short whistle from within the tunnel. The others heard it as well and stood, their muscles tensed, awaiting Thoronmir's order.

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Old 04-20-2004, 04:08 PM   #215
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Tolkien Entering the Fortress

Falowik

Thoronmir gave quick commands. "I'll go first. Falowik, you come right behind me, since you are the one who can spot Eodwine. Awyrgan, follow Falowik, and watch his back. After Awyrgan, Lumiel and Lira, with Furman between them, followed by Finëwen, and last of all, Eswen to protect our rear. Eswen, I've seen you with a blade, and know you to be at least as able a swordswoman as any here. Honor us with your skill, and any other strategies you deem wise." He gazed at her meaningfully.

She nodded once. Falowik could not tell if she had understood any special meaning from Thoronmir's words. He could not imagine what the Ranger had been talking about. As they took their turns shinnying up the pipe, Falowik wondered what they would find.

It was hard going, and it stank. Falowik tried hard not to retch. He was glad that it had been raining so hard, for if it had not, the stench would have been worse, and they might have been stymied by their noses alone.

Falco

Falco lay hunkered down in the mess in the pipe, letting his eyes adjust to the light. It had been pitch black in the pipe, and the half light had seemed almost like noontime to him.

He was in a dungeon, it seemed. He smiled. Had not the famous Gandalf been known to have said of one Dark Lord, "wise fool"? Well, here was another. There were two guards. One stood at a door at the other end of the walk way, and another was seated at an official looking table. There were groans and mutterings off to left and right, but Falco could not see any of the prisoners to even guess which one, if any, was the famous Eodwine.

He could hear the others crawling up behind him. They were being awfully noisy. Humans! Such a noisy lot! Big trouble, indeed, even when they were well spoken enough, which Falco had to admit to himself, Thoronmir was turning out to be. He was a good fellow, for all his lumbering big folk ways.

As silently as he could, Falco placed one hand before the other, hauled himself up, placed one foot on the floor of the ditch, then the other, and stayed hunkered down in the mess. He scrunched up his nose. He was going to be glad when this portion of their adventure was behind them. At least the stench penetrated the whole prison, or he'd be found out already! He wondered how the guards could stand it! They probably wouldn't have to for long, not if their little group had its way.

Thoronmir was just about at the end of the pipe.
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Old 04-20-2004, 04:25 PM   #216
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Tolkien

Lira crawled on hands and knees through the pipe, eyes fixed on Lumiel’s head. The elf was full of a quiet, joyous confidence that never seemed to diminish. Lira smiled. The elf had a good heart -- hopefully she would not fall in this mad rescue attempt.

The tunnel reeked of filth and the putrid, rotting remains of leaves and other plants. Pale, limpid roots clung to the top of the iron pipe; spiders scurried amid the fungus that clung to the tunnel’s sides. They crawled on slimy muck that layered the pipe, like soured icing upon stale, hardened bread. She could feel the squishy mud ooze between her fingers; heard it cling to her knees with a gasping sound, that would release with a squeak-like sigh as she crawled forward. Cobwebs, the burial ground of unnumbered insects, stretched across the pipe like dead, wispy curtains.

She could vaguely hear the clank of prisoner’s shackles, the harsh chortling of their guards as they mocked and insulted them. She shuddered, wondering if the place within was as filthy as the pipe.

The opening of the tunnel came in sight. Guards paced back and forth, shadows flickered on the walls from a sickly fire.

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Old 04-22-2004, 08:11 PM   #217
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Finëwen

Finëwen followed Lira and Furman into the tunnel. It reeked but Finëwen continued on, though she didn't see how she could. The tunnel itself is not what bothered her. She wanted to complete what she had started, but she did not feel no different. She had gained nothing from the trip, not even the experience of it all.

Drawing nearer to the end of the tunnel, Finëwen saw nothing for herself. After this she had nothing to go back to except an empty house, for her elven parents had passed over the sea years ago. She enjoyed living with the elves for the time that she did, but does not feel it her place, though she was raised as one of them. She just hoped that if she were to die, she'd be dying nobly...

The lights grew lighter, causing Finëwen to squint her eyes. The filth in the tunnel was not so bad anymore. The light was too bright to see what was at the end of the tunnel yet for Finëwen.
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Old 04-23-2004, 05:36 PM   #218
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I shuddered as I heard the snarling noise. It seemed to choke me with invisible fingers, drinking my strength away. As soon as my eyes became adjusted to the dark, I saw a lank wolf eyeing us with golden orbs. Spit dripped from his white fangs, his fur was stiff on his neck. He looked evil. Felt evil. I shuddered again, wishing to go back.

That was when I noticed that the tunnel ended behind the dog -- or at least I assumed so. Bags were piled behind the wolf and I saw a glint of gold. I gnawed my lip, considerring. If there was gold in those bags, what else would be in there? Clues as to the master was? A pip and some tobacco, I thought with yearning. I nodded and said, "We should kill him and look at the bags. We have you with us," I said, just now noticing the newcomer as a ragged ranger. "You could kill him easily, could you not?"

He nodded and I turned to Anson. "We have a ranger with us," I said with a smile. "He'll help us kill it -- or we'll help him kill it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lira and the others

Thoronmir now neared the end of the pipe. He stopped, made sure that everyone was ready, and, with a gesture of his hand, burst from the pipe, sword drawn. Lira crouched waiting to spring as soon as Furman had disappeared from the pipe. It reminded her of a running race she had often played when she was young...

Furman began to wiggle himself and she scrambled forward after him. She slid from the pipe onto a wooden floor and, drawing her knife, she climbed to her feet and glanced quickly around, looking for the enemy. She saw Furman grappling a guard, and a guard pulling a blade on Falowik.

She heard a soft step behind her and whirling around, she saw another guard lunge at her with a heavy sword. She parried it with her dagger and dodged underneath his arm, driving her knife into his belly.
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Old 04-24-2004, 08:47 AM   #219
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As soon as they entered the dark, dank tunnel, the outside world became muted. All feeling of rain and wind disappeared, all that was in evidence of the dreary weather was a hollow echo in the pipe and the soaked companions crawling upwards through the pipe. Lumiel's heart pounded anxiously as they slowly made their way in. The grime and muck clung to her hands and feet, and she avoided contact with it as much as was possible. Not so much because the smell and feel bothered her (though it certainly was not pleasant), but more because the slime would hinder her movements once they were within.

They paused near the end. She could see two pair of feet outside. It was amazing that the guards didn't hear them. Confined and waiting, every noise seemed amplified dangerously. Finally Thoronmir gave the signal and they burst forth from the tunnel, one after the other, blades drawn.

Before she could fully take in the situation they had leaped into, Lumiel saw Furman attempt to take down one of the guards with only his bound hands. His years spent in the wilderness had strengthened him so that even bound, he was dangerous. But still, he could not take on another fully grown, armed man by himself. The guard clutched at his throat, since Furman had thrown his arms around his neck and was now attempting to choke him, and reached one hand down to a dagger at his side.

Before he could raise it for a lethal blow to Furman, Lumiel rushed forward, silent except for a sickening squish of her boots. The man glanced toward her with wide, fearful eyes and let out a strangled gasp as she plunged her sword into his gut and wrenched it upwards, killing him instantly. Furman released his hold on the man and Lumiel stepped behind the dead guard to avoid the blood now pumping out of him. Taking a dagger from her belt, she quickly cut Furman's ropes. Reaching down to the dead body, she pulled the sword from its belt and shoved it into Furman's hands. "You'll have better luck with this." she whispered to him with a faint smile and quickly turned to the rest of the skirmish now taking place.

Falowik was dealing with the second guard and Lira was near another dead body. Whether the third guard had been summoned or merely had walked in on the situation, Lumiel didn't know. She only hoped that their essential element of surprise was not entirely lost.
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Old 04-26-2004, 12:53 PM   #220
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The Eye

Despite the unpleasant circumstances, Esgallhugwen was able to keep a foot hold in the thick slime that caked the tunnel. They neared the end and she could see thin rays of light slipping past her companions that had gone ahead.

While scaling up the tunnel conscious of the sludge beginning to weight her down she contemplated Thoronmir's words, how he sould have been refering to the Dark Queen in all her dread and glory. Eswen knew she might have to bring her out again when they confronted the Master, which they pobably would.

One by one they crawled out of the tunnel like some thing from a child's nightmare, sickly and covered head to toe with mud and green slime, their swords drawn and glimmering. Immediately she beheld the others go to work on the gaurds swiftly and as quietly as they could, though the muck made an irritating sucking slopping noise as it slid off their boots.

There had been two gaurds, but a third came around the bend, Lira finished him quickly. The silence that followed seemed more sickening then the sucking slurping noises of their boots.

Kildirak

The snarling beast before them made the hair on Kildirak's neck stand up, yes he knew how to kill a wolf, but he only wanted to use that as a last resort. "Surely there could be some other way to get near those bags, who knows how long this beast has been down here. Put here to gaurd this chamber no less. What if he is starving? I know all too well what that feels like".

The faint candle light flickered on the figure of the dark wolf, it ribs jutting out with every gasping breath. It's eyes flashed with more hunger and fear than any beastial authority.

"You two", he whispered as low as he could "look for some rope that might be nearby or anything that you can find that would suit that purpose". They all started looking about them keeping an eye on the wolf to make sure he didn't try and attack.

The hobbits, Anson and Gorby picked up a few things, a steel chain, leather whip, golden necklace that had fallen from one of the near bags, but no rope. Just then the wolf began to step forward ready to lunge.

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Old 04-26-2004, 07:37 PM   #221
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Tolkien In the Dungeon

There were no more guards in the dungeon. Their luck held, for the dungeon itself was walled off from the rest of the keep with thick walls, and was below the main floor. Better yet, there was a ring of keys at the belt of one of the guards. The prisoners did not speak, but looked at their saviors eagerly, hoping for release. None of them looked in great health, but none were starving either; the Master needed them leechable.

Thoronmir handed the keys to Falowik, who unlocked the prisoners, asking any if they knew what lay before them. It occurred to Falowik that it might have been well to have kept one of the guards alive, but there was not surety that they could keep him quiet. They would have to find their way.

Thoronmir bade the freed men to escape down the pipe. They watched them clamber in one by one: eight in all, out of ten cells; two had been empty.

Eodwine had not been among them.

Thoronmir unlocked the heavy wooden door to the dungeon and looked both ways before proceeding.

Falco tugged on Thoronmir's shirt. "Let me scout ahead!" he whispered. Thoronmir nodded and the hobbit scurried into the darkness.

***

Falco returned after perhaps five minutes. "Up one flight of stairs, and there are two guards at the main door to the left, and two more by another door to the right, in front of some fancy little house inside the larger house. It's like this Furman said! It must be this Master's temple."

"Are there no more guards than that?" Thoronmir asked.

Falco shook his head. "Far as I can make out, they're all asleep in barracks. Locked in from the outside, if the nearest is any clue to that!"

Falowik had been listening. "So even his own guards are his prisoners."

"Aye," said Thoronmir. "We still have the advantage of surprise, due in large measure to the pounding of the rain above. Lumiel, Awyrgan and Furman, attack the guards at the main door. Join Falowik and Eswen, and me at the temple when you have finished there. Lira, Finëwen and Falco, search out the rest of this keep and make sure that none come upon us unawares. When you have finished, join us. Now to it!"
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Old 04-27-2004, 08:15 PM   #222
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Eye Thoronmir

Thoronmir, Falowik, and Eswen proceeded to an archway directly across from the temple doors. They could see the two guards in front clearly, but the guards couldn't see them.

"Eswen, take your bow and aim for the guard on the left. I'll take the one on the right," Thoronmir whispered hoarsely. They drew their bows and fired. The guards fell, not knowing what had happened. "Wait here, I'm going to check something," said the Ranger. Thoronmir proceeded from the archway to the courtyard surrounding the temple to scout the area, ducking low to avoid detection. He paused and looked upward as he crept around. He smiled as he saw what he was looking for. The temple's roof was made of wood, not stone, so it wouldn't be that hard for somebody to break through. A low wall ran around the edge of it, perfect for a grappling hook and rope. He dashed back to the archway, drew a good length of rope out of his pack and tied a hook to it, then waited for the others. He would tell them of his plan when they had all arrived.

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Old 04-28-2004, 08:53 PM   #223
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Tolkien

Lira nodded and crept up the stairs that led from the dungeon. Her knife was drawn, Falco padded in front of her, and Finëwen glided behind her. The dungeon itself was like a large cellar, Lira noticed. The walls were firm dirt, the floor was grey stone. A straggling, dying root here and there bulged from the wall.

The stairs were dimly lit by flickering torches. Not a cobweb clung to the corners; clouds of dust did not appear when their feet fell upon the stairs. It was relatively neat, compared to the torture chambers they had found and the grave yard of bones. But why? Was it because the master's presence was so close? Did he, or she -- Lira shuddered at the thought of the vampire -- make sure his domains were neat? Lira chuckled. How men grew lax when authority was afar.

The stairs led to a smallish hut. Herbs and meats hung from the wood panelled ceiling. A fire was dying in a small fireplace. Coils of rope were tossed into the corner. A small window was set in each of the four walls. A guard, a large black bottle by his hand, snored from the table. His head was cradled in his burly arms, drool stretched from his lips before splattering onto the table. Lira grimaced and Falco smothered a snort. The guard was exactly like a swine. All he needed was a square snout with huge ovalish nostrils, a bloated stomach, cloven hands -- Lira shook herself. What was she thinking?

Lira and Finëwen took some rope and tied him to the chair. Tearing a large stip of cloth from her dress, she stuffed it into his mouth and secured with a bit of rope tied around his head. She snorted. The man was indeed in a heavy drunken stupour.

Lira peeked out each of the windows at the barren landscape -- not even a weed straggled for life. "There is no one outside," Lira told Falco.

Falco frowned and shrugged. "So much the better for us."

"Maybe they are at the temple," Lira murmured. "There may be a sacrifice and the others might be watching." How gruesome.

"Let's join the others," Falco said.

The two ladies nodded and left the small hut with the dungeon cellar. The temple was soon in sight.
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Old 05-02-2004, 03:46 PM   #224
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The Eye

Esgallhugwen was instructed to keep lookout whilst Thoronmir talked with Falowik about the order in which they were to enter the temple when everyone had arrived. Her bow was at her side in case any more guards should appear.

She was relieved to see Lira, Finëwen, and Falco come around the bend from the dungeon cellar. She smiled and beckoned them over with a wave of her hand so they would know the coast was clear.

"What news? I see Eodwine is not among you" she whispered.

Eswen did not know what Eodwine looked like but seeing that it was only the three, it was easy to assume he had already been taken by the Master.

"Thoronmir means to tell us his plan once Lumiel, Awyrgan and Furman arrive, until then we must hope to avoid detection" she motioned them to follow her up to the archway.

Kildirak

The wolf jumped up at them teeth bared, gobs of foaming drool hitting their faces. Kildirak had to act fast in order to save the Hobbits from the hungry jaws. He looped the leather whip into a lasso and tossed it at the wolf's head.

His skill at roping animals paid off. The rope looped around the its head and with a swift practised motion Kildirak tugged on the rope, it tightened around the beast's neck.

Kildirak's grip tightened as he pulled back making the whip taught. Luckily just in time before poor Gorby's face was nearly gnashed off.
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Old 05-03-2004, 07:06 PM   #225
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Dark-Eye Eodwine

He was in an evil dream, and wondered if he would ever wake up. It had started pleasantly enough, among quaint hobbits and northmen, then a foray into the hills in search of signs of missing men for a report back to King Eomer. But it had led to capture, witnessed by a wanderer that his captors had never seen. So he had hoped, when he still had hope. They had tried to break his spirit by showing him their machines of torture in the ruins, but they had not been able to. Then had come days and days of being herded along with scores of other men, out into fields to work a slave holder's lands, then long nights with at first a growling stomach. The growling had been replaced by a stretched and empty feeling, then numbness, the last stage before starvation. He had been fed as little as possible to keep ghost and flesh together. He grew desperate and saw a chance to escape while his limbs could still carry him, and took it; but one of them had seen and caught him before he was over the first hill. He remembered their words then: this one has a strong will, the kind the Master likes to drink; send him north. They had tied him down in a wagon and he had spent two bumped and jostled days before reaching the fortress, where there was no chance of escape. Surely the wanderer had forgotten about him, or done nothing in the first place. The Master's henchmen had fed and watered him well, for they had needed him fatted for the Master; so it was with all the prisoners who came to the fortress. He had watched those who had arrived before him, taken one at a time, their screams, ravaged with horror and loss, raising the hair on the nape of his neck. Something worse than death awaited him. Finally, the last prisoner before him was taken, and despair had set in. Now it was his turn, on a wild and stormy night, the kind the Master liked best.

They had brought him into the temple and lain him on the altar, and left him alone, naked but for a loin cloth. The entirety was wrought in black marble, shining luridly in the lightning flashes that could be seen through the hands' width thick glass of the tall windows just below the domed ceiling. The altar, round as the rim of a goblet, was in the center of the temple. At the circumference of the altar was a gutter, and there was an aperture of some kind near his right hand. He had heard the talk from the guards. They spared no detail of the horror, so he knew what was coming. The Master would cut the arteries of both wrists and ankles, and would keep the wounds open with water as needed, until he was bled dry. His blood would flow into the gutters and the Master would open the aperture; his blood would flow into a vat down below. But the Master would have a goblet handy, and the last thing Eodwine would remember, in his bodily life, would be the agony of his chest cut open, his heart removed, its contents poured into the goblet, and drunk by the Master.

But that was only the beginning.

The Master wielded power over the dead, the ghosts of his victims; and he had control over evil spirits that were all the guard he required in his temple. He himself was safe from them as long as he had drunk blood within the last twenty-four hours. It was his power now, for both his necromancy and his continued life. And Eodwine would become his slave, tied by the continuation of his blood in the vat, to the Master's will. So it was told to him by the guards, who said that they had it so from the Master himself. He believed them, for he imagined that the Master's weapons were not least, fear and terror in the hearts of his victims.

Eodwine acknowledged to himself, that he feared greatly. His heart beat as if he was sprinting. Lightning flashed. Rain poured. Thunder rolled. A shadowy figure entered the chamber through a portal Eodwine had not seen before. The Master.
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Old 05-03-2004, 08:20 PM   #226
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Eye Eodwine's in serious trouble...must go NOW!

Awyrgan, Lumiel, and Furman had returned and told Thoronmir that Eodwine was nowhere to be seen. Thoronmir considered this, and then made up his mind.

"We can't wait any longer. Eodwine is definitely in the temple, which means the longer we wait, the less likely it is that Eodwine will survive. We'll have to go in. Falowik, Eswen, Lira, and Falco, you'll take this rope (he gave Lira the rope and grappling hook) and climb to the roof. Take the rope with you, then proceed to the side of the temple farthest from the door. After my group breaks through the door, count to five and then smash a hole in the wooden roof with your weapons and lower yourself in. Eodwine should probably be close to your location. If there are too many guards, use your bows and attack from above. Awyrgan, Finewen, Lumiel, and Furman, you'll be with me and create a distraction at the front door. Be cautious, as the Master will likely have traps set. Have you got all that?"

Everybody nodded.

"Alright, let's GO!" he said. He handed Furman a scimitar he had taken from a dead guard. "Use it well, but don't double cross us. I'm warning you." he cautioned him.

As they came up to the temple door, he whispered to Awyrgan so that nobody else could hear. "Take this. If Furman turns against us, shoot him before he tells the guards of the plan." He handed the other Ranger his bow and quiver of arrows, and Awyrgan nodded.

"GO!" Thoronmir shouted, and kicked the door open. The sight that greeted him was definitely NOT welcoming...
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Old 05-03-2004, 11:57 PM   #227
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Tolkien

Lira swung the rope and watched the gleaming grappling hoock skitter across the roof and latch onto a lip of wood. She hoped that if anyone had heard the rope the guards, or the Master himself, would pass it off as hungry rats scaveging for a stray crumb.

Noiselessly and swiftly, she climbed up the rope and crawled to the wooden roof. Splinters speared her palm and she swore silently. As she waited for the others to climb up after her, she tried to dig them out, but failed for they were buried deeply, and her nails were jagged and stubby.

She ceased her efforts when the rest had climbed the rope and, drawing her blade, she gripped the dagger between her teeth and began to crawl across the roof of the temple. She passed silently over the planks of wood, hoping that the others would do likewise. The grappling hook would be enough to alert their enemies...she hoped ony that they had been too concerned with their own sacrifice to notice a few scratchings upon the roof.

She slowed as she neared the farther edge of the temple and put her ear to the wooden plank. There was silence, save for a soft whisper of metal against metal. She could hear no groaning, pitiful whimperings, or pleas for mercy. She closed her eyes, and murmured a prayer for Eodwine. Then she crouched, dagger held ready in her hand, as she waited for Thoronmir's people to smash through the doors.

Under her hands, the roof began to shiver and tremble, as if some force bade them do so. Lira frowned and hissed, "Back away, back away!" She pushed Falco across the roof, and gestured Esgallhugwen back. Falowick, she gathered, was somewhere behind her, out of sight.

As she began to retreat the wood splintered beneath her, crumbling under her weight. She fell through the roof, struggling to grasp the jagged edges of the cavernous hole. As she fell, she vaguely saw the dim form of an alter, and a man bound to it, naked save for a loin cloth.

Guards filled the room and Lira knew that they had been waiting for them. As she plummeted to the stone floor, a sharp crack resounded in the temple: the sound of her broken neck.

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Old 05-05-2004, 09:35 AM   #228
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The Eye The Dark Queen Cometh

Esgallhugwen swiftly climbed to rope, the last of them to go up. They awaited for Thoronmir to break though the entrance but that chance did not come before the worst befell them.

The roof which consisted of wooden planks began to quake under their feet, Lira had urged the others back but before she could save herself the roof gave way, and she fell. Esgallugwen rushed to hole and a sound echoed up to them, it took everything in Eswen's body not to scream out in pain and anguish at the twisted form sprawled out on the tile.

But also when that sound came something snapped inside of the dark haired Elf, something more violent and terrible than before. Her clear grey eyes narrowed and seemed to glow with wrath and power.

Her body trembled and the air about her grew cold and still. Esgallhugwen picked up her bow and adjusted her quiver on her back.

The guards came then swarming over Lira like some insectile vermin. With a swift fluid motion that could only come from the Elves, Esgallhugwen began to rifle arrow after arrow at the enemy.

The Dark Queen in her smiled maniacally when she downed more then five men with arrows protruding from their eye. Falowik a little uneasy at the abrupt change in one of his comrades gathered courage and took down a fair share of the guards himself.

It was then that Esgallhugwen heard the front door being smashed in, good they made it in, she turned quickly to Falowik and Falco, tying the bow to her back.

"I'm going in, I ask you to cover me until I've cleared the way then you can enter the temple, use the rope to get down Master Falco it would be a perilous fall for you" the depth in her sweet Elvish voice was laced with anger and sadness.

The fall was steep, but when she glanced throught the hole she noticed a pillar with a huge lantern hanging horizontally from a bronze bar. It would be the perfect way for her to get down safetly enough.

With a shift of her feet she was down the hole and reaching across for the bronze bar, her long thin fingers glanced off the bar and latched on to the lanterns chain ahead. The force with which she came down pulled the lantern at an awkward angle spilling the hot embers, one grazed her cheek but did not burn her bad enough to promote a scar.

The Dark Queen landed on the black marble silently with a bend of her knees, but the gaurds had seen her descent. One came up to her right as she drew her sword, the impact of the pommel hitting his mouth shattered all of his front teeth, he screamed as blood splattered over the glistening tile.

The Dark Queen has risen.
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Old 05-06-2004, 04:42 PM   #229
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Tolkien

Lira opened her eyes and rose from the floor. Looking behind her she, she saw a shell of skin, a corpse with the neck at an odd angle. Her corpse. That she was dead did not matter to Lira, for she was fëa now. Before the thought had sunk into her, she became aware of dark presence in the room. Black arrogance mingled with scorn assaulted her and, turning, she saw a dread being stand between two of the black pillars, bound to them by strands not of bodily making, as if the very essence of the spirit had been used to hold it as a slave there, at the beck and call of the Master. It was not a balrog, but some other spawn of evil .

Lifting her hands, Lira cried, "You will not harm me nor my friends!"

The spirit laughed. Cold and harsh it was upon her ears, like sharpened blades upon her skin, wounding her, weakening her. "What can you do to me?" the spirit asked. "I am under the power of the Master!"

The Master ...suddenly, Lira realized who he was, and wondered why she had not known it before. The Master was the Lieutenant of Sauron, the Dark Numenorean who had forgotten his own name and entity in his vile service: The Mouth of Sauron. Lira's heart quailed and she wavered.

She could feel the spirit envelope her, gnawing at her as the ocean gnaws at the rocks, grinding them to dust. She fought against and cried, "He will be defeated again! The dark cannot stand against the light!"

The Spirit laughed again, mocking her, like poison in a wound. "You cannot defeat him!"

Yes, he could not be defeated...he was a new Dark Lord, the bearer of Sauron's name. He was destroy the Shire, a vengeance for the destruction of his lord, and from there spill the blood of Arda's inhabitants upon the land, making it a wasteland fit for a dark lord. Not man nor elf could stand in his way.. As she saw the destruction in her minds eye, and remembering all that she had learned, she drew herself up and, clinging to a single thought, cried, "He will be defeated as he was defeated upon the Morannon before the Black Gate by Mithrandir the White!"

The Spirit almost snorted in disgust and said, "But he was not truly defeated was he? He has now come back, stronger than before. Before this day is out, he will drink your blood as well as the blood of your companions. He cannot be defeated." He gestured toward the alter.

Her last hope dashed, Lira felt a tidal wave of fear, mingled with hopelessness, drown her. She struggled with it, grappled with it, but it became stronger -- a leering monster. Stretching out her arms in supplication and defiance, she cried, " Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima! O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!"

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Old 05-06-2004, 08:15 PM   #230
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Tolkien Eodwine

The moment the Master entered the chamber, the roof gave way. Rain poured in, and something else: a human body, which hit the stone floor and did not move. It was a young woman! An elvish woman. Guards poured out from hidden recesses. Another interloper came swinging down nimbly from the broken roof, using a lantern chain for purchase. This one landed on two feet and quicker than Eodwine's eye could follow, drew and loosed five arrows into the guards, killing all five with each arrow. Only an Elf could use bow and arrow to such a pin point. The rain fell upon the altar, and Eodwine was drenched in moments. Lightning flashed.

Where had the Master gone? Eodwine looked up. He stood at Eodwine's head, goblet in one hand, that dagger, sharpened to a fine point in the other; it was the one Eodwine had been told about, bearing the ugly device of snake crawling through a skull's eye sockets that he had seen on the shields and hauberks of the guards. This dagger was singular, though. It's hilt was hollow, and an elixir was contained therein that, with a flick of the Master's thumb on a small switch, shot the elixir down the surface of the blade, and the wound opened by the dagger could not close, the blood could not thicken but would seep like water until the victim was drained.

The rain poured. Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed and growled. The door broke open and more of the Elf woman's allies rushed in. The battle flowed before them.

"Man of Rohan," said the Master in tones sibilant as a serpent, disdainful of the melee raging around them, "it is your time to feed my life. What is your name, that I may honor your memory and sacrifice?" The Master's face was drawn tight against the bone so that it was no great task to imagine the skull beneath the skin. His eyes burned with a fierce will; but he was not disfigured. His expression mocked his seemingly honorable words; this one knew no honor.

"Tell me yours and I will tell you mine, fiend."

The Master smiled. "You would barter with me over a name? Fool." An arrow sped through the air at his head, but halted in its path just beyond the altar, and dropped to the floor. Another came swiftly after, and joined its brother on the floor. The arrows stopped coming. "See how the arrows cannot hurt us? We are safe here, you and I."

A rope descended from the hold in the roof.

The clouds burst and the rain came down like a waterfall. Eodwine turned his face away from the roof to breathe.

Suddenly, a high clear voice called from the midst of the temple, "Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima! O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!" The words fed Eodwine, bringing hope in the midst of darkness, even though hope seemed far away. He looked up and saw the Master cringe.

"I know who you are," Eodwine said. He was desperate to live, and his life on the dagger's edge, not in figure of speech but in truth, made him as wreckless as a man could be with all four limbs tied down and without defense. "You were the lieutenant of Barad-dur. I saw you there, on the Morannon before that final battle, running back to hiding with your tail between your legs like a wipped cur, Mouth of Sauron!"

The downpour ebbed and thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Silence! Do not incur my wrath, fool, or I could make your sacrifice most painful, and your existence beyond death most agonizing. Yes, I was the Mouth of Sauron, but no more. I am the Dark Lord now, and my power grows. Your blood shall aid me. I shall tell you my name, for it is precious to me. I am Herugor. Do you hear! Herugor!"

The name echoed through the chamber, and the melee stopped for a moment as both sides in the battle looked to the altar, transfixed. Lightning flashed overhead and thunder shouldered the lightning aside with a crash. Light and dark flashed on the forms of warrior and guard alike, making them appear as if they were moving though they did not. It was the Elf woman with her quick arrows who broke the tableau with five more arrows into the necks of five more guards.

"Now tell me your name, man of Rohan."

"I will not."

"I have it already from the guards, and can speak it for you, but it is best if it comes from your own lips."

"Liar."

"You dare much, messenger of the King of Rohan."

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Old 05-08-2004, 09:49 PM   #231
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The Eye

The Dark Queen moved quickly, dispatching the guards. The storm above them seemed to grow in strength, the thunder roared hungrily overhead.

The arrows she let fly at The Masters head fell uselessly to the ground. A dark haze was protecting him, she could see it moving and twisting about him and Eodwine.

Esgallhugwen gave up the pursuit of taking down the Master, for now, she had made the way clear for Folowik and Falco to enter from the roof. The rain poured down heavily as she called up to them, the coil of rope descended.

A voice called out " Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima! O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!" Before she could react something struck her in the chest sending her flying across the black marble.

The voice was beautiful like the dawn but it was afraid, it was Lira's voice!

Esgallhugwen slid directly into Lira's cold dead body, gasping from the wind being knocked out of her, she looked downward on her fallen friend, the only one she had ever had for many years.

Her gaze led upward and she beheld a figure of auroral light.

"Lira!", the drenched Elf called out almost in disbelief that she was still here, then she knew the terrible power of the Master, knowing whom he truly was. Lira would not be able to leave until he was utterly destroyed.

The Dark Queen came to her feet and heard the Mouth of Sauron shouting at the man tied to the altar, his voice thick like poison.

"I am Herugor. Do you hear! Herugor!"

The fighting stopped, all seemed deadlocked, unable to move due to the uttering of such a name. The Dark Queen would have none of it and soon took down five more gaurds breaking everyones reverie.

Her fiery grey eyes scanned the temple for her assailant, but when she saw it she couldn't surpress a shudder. The shadow loomed above them, it was bound to two black pillars.

The Dark Queen stepped back in terror, it soon became apparent that the spirit would soon be liberated from its imprisonment. It was furious at Lira for having call upon Elbereth's grace.

Its tentacle like limbs slowly uncurled like snakes from the marble pillars, it laughed visciously at the two Elves that stood in front of it.

"You see, the Master's power is great, your feeble little Elvish darts can do nothing to stop Him or me" the spirit bellowed glowering down on them.

"Perhaps, but what of this!" the Dark Queen hissed angrily up at him despite her fear and drew forth her Elvish blade, the spirit stepped back unsure of the blades potency, then it smiled, if it could be considered a smile.

"Ha, so you have shown your true nature, like all your kind you wallow in deciet and folly, wrongfully mistaking it for courage and wisdom, your blood especially shall be prized by the Master, dark haired one, he will take it from you as slowly as possible".

Esgallhugwen's grip on her sword tightened, other figures began to appear, black and wretched, The guards, their souls have returned by His command.

"May the Valar protect us, mellon"

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Old 05-10-2004, 09:05 PM   #232
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Tolkien Falowik and Falco

By the time Falowik and Falco slid down the rope, few guards were left standing. They pulled their swords out and took stock, side by side. Eswen was wipping out arrows and shooting guards left and right. Falco's jaw dropped as he watched arrows shot at the Master stop and drop.

"Take care, Wanderer!" Falco slipped into the shadows and made his way as quietly and quickly as he could around to the back of the altar, to the unseen left of the Master. He froze as the Master named himself: Herugor. Falco didn't know the name, but it sounded none too comely. An evil name for an evil man.

***

Falowik attacked the nearest guard and got embroiled in a trade of blows. He saw the front door burst open. Thoronmir, Awyrgan, Finewen, Lumiel, and Furman ran in, sword drawn and ready. Their plan had not worked out as they had hoped, so far. Lira was dead.

Next moment, Falowik froze. The dead guards picked themselves up off the floor, their wounds open and bleeding, arrows protruding, and took stances of readiness for battle. There were a little over two dozen of them. The guard he had been fighting withdrew and started to run from the hall, but was cut down with a single stroke by one of the dead guards. Next moment, he rose, his head cloven from top to eyebrows, and his eyes were baleful.

Then something new caught his eye; where there had been blankness, or blackness, there was now a red smudge. It grew and gained shape. A rope came from it toward the altar, where there was a hole in the floor. No, it was not a rope, it was some kind of living tentacle that became more blood red with each second. Revealed by flashes of lightning, it was large as a troll and wore its shape, red as blood - in fact, it seemed to be made of blood! But its eyes bore malignant intelligence, and its mouth gaped hungrily.

"Uien," Falowik whispered, "I wish you were here now. Of maybe I don't. This may be farewell, my love."

He gripped his sword and began to fight his way toward the others.
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Old 05-12-2004, 08:27 PM   #233
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Lira could feel the presence of Esgallhugwen support her like a dark pillar. Summoning her strength, she said, "By Elbereth the Fair we will defeat you." She felt Eswen's mind and, together, they converged their wills against the spirit.

The spirit faltered for a brief moment but a glance at his Master and at the spirits of the dead guards made his fear vanished and he laughed. Three mere elves only stood in his way -- they were nothing but a pebble.

Lira's heart sank as she glanced at Eswen. The tall elf gripped her sword as she turned to face the spirits of the dead guards that marched upon them. Drawing her dagger, the mate of Esgallhugwen's, Lira prayed to the Valar, asking for their protection and their strength.

She could feel Lumiel's will with them as well, and together, the three elves faces the spirits of darkness, recalled from the dead. Lira shook her head. They would not be enough. "Uien...Uien..." she called. "Help us..."

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Old 05-13-2004, 08:42 PM   #234
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Tolkien Uien

Uien lifted her head. Gorby and Anson were sitting beside her. It was night. She had been washing the forehead of one of her patients. Storm wrack rumbled in the distance, to the north.

"Loréatan!"

Gorby saw a sudden distance in her face. Her eyes looked upon some place far away. He nudged Anson and pointed at her. Both stared in wide-eyed fascination. Something was happening to her, and they did not know what. Something Elvish.

She had heard voices, clear; voice she knew, one man to whom her heart was tied as long as her life continued; and three others - her lips formed their names - Lira - Esgallhugwen - Lumiel! She reached for them with her mind, and flew more swiftly than the Eagles over the hills, into the rain and wind and lightning and thunder, to the fortress on the last hill, a black fortress. She flew to the minds that had called to her, three elven women, and one human man.

The two hobbits saw a tear gather and fall from Uien's eye. Anson frowned and wondered if she was thinking back to bad. Then her face changed to a look of horror.

Uien's closest connection was to Falowik, even though he was no Elf. She laid her awareness over his as carefully as she could, and saw what he saw: they were in a large chamber with a dais and altar to which was tied on his back, a man. Standing over him was a being who was wholly evil. Lira was dead, and Eswen stood over her, Lumiel joining them. Dead guards walked and swung swords with strength and quickness that could not be there's. Worse, an evil spirit took shape from the blood of many dead, and was forming it into a giant, bigger than any troll, but with the intelligent malevolence of a balrog. It was this demon that the Elven women fought, yes, all three, for though Lira was dead, her fëa lived on.

Uien urged Falowik to join the Elven women. He ran to them. All five joined in common purpose to withstand the despair of the demon. The demon walked free now, and came at the five of them, gathered in the center of the chamber while the others fought desperately against the inexorable dead.

Uien knew through Falowik that Falco crept closer and closer to the Mouth of Sauron; they needed to do something to distract the villain, before he slashed Eodwine's wrists and ankles - for it was indeed Eodwine of Rohan, the one they had come in search of. The bird! What of the bird?

Gorby and Anson watched Uien, whose face had gone pale and bleak, as if she had lost hope of healing all these patients. They glanced at each other, troubled, and shivered.
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Old 05-13-2004, 09:08 PM   #235
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Gorby

I watched in stunned silence as the tears trickled down Uien's face -- the excitement of victory had gone from me. For the ranger and us two hobbits had vanquished the wolf, and discovered that he guarded skulls, treasure, and a bit of exotic food stuff as well that had been preserved in jars. But the sweet fruit turned to ash, and my pipe went out when Uien began to act all strange.

I could tell, even with the lack of elvish intuition, that something bad was happening. I just hoped that my friends would survive through it, especially the elven ladies. I was glad then that Anson had stayed here...or that I had stayed here with Anson. I forget how it happened.

Lira

Lira grappled with the spirit, struggling against its florid thought. She felt another mind caress them and she smiled. Uien had come, and Falowik joined them as well. But the guards surrounded them, attacking them with swords fueled with malign swiftness.

Living guards poured through the doors of the temple, and a black shadow dropped from the fallen roof and fell upon them, tearing at one of their throats with curved claws. It was Corn, come to aide them. Where he had been, Lira did not know. She had not seen him since the last battle.

The guard crumpled under Corn's attack, and she saw him flit off to kill yet another. Blood and skin dangled from his beak, which he swalled like a worm from the ground.

Lira glanced back at the fallen warrior, and paled as she saw his spirit float from his body to join the army of the dead that circled around them. "Do not kill the guards!" she shouted to Corn.

A vague, shodowy image floated to her mind: Falco, crawling on hands and knees behind the Master. A distant voice, the bird! What of the bird? whispered in her mind. Lira understood, and turned her thoughts to Corn: Plunge upon him as you would a sparrow, play with him as you would a hawk!

Corn cawed and swooped toward the Master's head, pecking it like a woodpecker upon wood. With a rasping laugh, the raven danced off, fluttering in front of the Master, lashing at his limbs.
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Old 05-14-2004, 09:57 PM   #236
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Tolkien Falco

That bird of Lira's had flown in! Falco inched closer and closer to the villain, this Herugor. Corn was the bird's name. Lira lay dead on the floor, and Falco could not see her, ducked behind the altar. He wondered if the bird could tell. Suddenly Corn came in sight, flying over the head of Herugor. Corn dove and harried him. It was his chance!

His plan was to give Herugor the same wounds he was going to give Eodwine. Falco raised his dagger and while Herugor was distracted, slashed at his flailing arms and caught him above the wrist. Blood flowed. Herugor roared with the pain.

Suddenly, Falco saw a giant that he had not seen before, hunkered down behind the altar. Now it turned toward them. Its mouth opened, and a cold, evil voice assaulted his ears.

"I smell blood!" The giant came toward Herugor.

"No! Stay back!" The giant kept coming. The dead guards turned from their foes and looked at the giant and Herugor; they dropped their swords, clattering to the floor, and walked toward Herugor. Falco was glad he was not Herugor.

"Hobbit!" Eodwine craned his neck to get Falco's attention. "Untie me!"

Falco shook his head, clearing his mind from the fascinating horror, and took a look at Eodwine's bonds.

"I'm Falco, Shirriff of the Shire, here to find out if you were real, and if so, to save you. Well, you're real enough, so now to save you."

"My thanks!"

Herugor turned to run from the chamber, and stopped before he was two strides away from the altar, seeming to fear leaving it.

Falco grunted. "These are iron bonds. Is there a lever?"

"I know not."

Herugor backed to the altar, staring at the advancing giant and guards. He leaned against it. There was a click. Suddenly, the irons came undone from Eodwine's wrists and ankles. In a motion more fluid than Falco expected, Eodwine kicked Herugor in the back, sending him hurtling toward the giant, which welcomed him with open arms and maw. Herugor screamed.

Eodwine, Falco, and all the others watched in fascination as the red giant held Herugor to its body, and little by little, screaming until his mouth was blocked, he sank into the body of the giant. And was gone. The dead guards fell to the floor. Suddenly, the chamber was filled with the sound of many moaning voices. Falco felt that he could almost see the faces that went with the voices, rising from below, into the air, and out into the storm above. The giant melted to the stone floor until all that remained was a puddle of blood, surrounding the pale, leeched corpse of Herugor. Two horrible voices rose from the chamber together, filled with despair and loss. At last, there was no sound but the rain.
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Old 05-15-2004, 08:09 AM   #237
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Eye Thoronmir (better late than never...)

When the battle started, Thoronmir had smashed the doors in to the sight of Lira falling through the roof and the guards swarming around her. Everything that could conceivably go wrong did. The Master turned and looked at him, then gave a chilling laugh. Thoronmir had recognized the Master's voice from the Battle of the Morannon and tried to warn the others, but the confusion kept anyone from hearing him. No sooner had he slain several guards than they came back to life and resumed the attack. He saw Awyrgan fall to the floor, dead. Then he heard the Mouth of Sauron speak.

"I am Herugor. Do you hear! Herugor!"

A few seconds later, Thoronmir had been grabbed by some horrible thing with gigantic tentacles. He tried to struggle free, but the beast seemed to be draining his very life away. Just as he was about to slip into unconsciousness (or worse), he heard Herugor scream in pain. Suddenly the beast was gone, and Thoronmir, released from the tentacles, fell onto the temple floor. He felt life return to him, and knew that they had won the battle. He caught a glimpse of some gigantic monster attacking Herugor, who quickly died a horribly painful death.

Thoronmir got up off the floor and walked over to where Falco had just freed Eodwine. "Falco, I don't know if you realized it," he said to the hobbit, "but you just saved my life. Thank you."

Thoronmir turned to the man whom Falco had released. "Eodwine, I presume."
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Old 05-15-2004, 10:08 AM   #238
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Tolkien Lira

The Master, screaming in agony, sank into the giant, melding into the giant's form. Around her, the spirits ceased their fighting and, wailing with despair and fear, they drifted away, like mist before the dawn.

She felt an urge to leave, a calling voice beckoning her to leave these mortal lands. Her task was done, and she was dead. She had no business in the land of the living.

Corn, bedraggled, perched upon her corpse, running his beak through her hair, and nibbling caresses at her ear. Lira smiled at the bird, and then turned to Esgallhugwen. Mellon she whispered may the grace of the Valar protect and strengthen you.

She kissed Esgallhugwen on her brow, and then her fëa departed to the Halls of Mandos.
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Old 05-15-2004, 08:50 PM   #239
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Tolkien Eodwine

"Eodwine, I presume."

"The same." Eodwine offered his hand in greeting to the man, turning to the Hobbit. "Falco, is it? You are a fine Hobbit, and I am glad to make your acquaintance." He turned back to the Ranger. "You are familiar to me, I'm thinking. I know not how, and missed you name. But I wonder, might it have been in the War that I saw you? I was in the charge of the Rohirrim at Pelennor, and marched to the Morannon. Did I see you then, mayhap?"

"Thoronmir is the name," the Ranger replied. "And I too was at Pelennor and Morannon. And now that you say it, I do believe that I did see you there! Well met, friend!" They slapped each other's backs and grinned in that way that comes to none but common veterans.

Eodwine turned to look at the Elven woman's corpse, and those who knelt over her in mourning, not least the crow they called Corn, who combed her hair with its beak. "Who was this lady who gave her life for mine? I am forever in her debt, and would know in whose honor I shall live the rest of my days."

"She was Lira," Thoronmir said, "not the most beautiful of Elven women, but her heart was true and her courage great."

They walked over to the others. Falco was unusually silent, and wiped away a tear.
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Old 05-16-2004, 01:35 PM   #240
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Finëwen stood there watching all the others. There was not much she could say. What would she say? Everybody else seemed to be handling things well. Or from what she understood. Everything seemed to have gone by in one big blur and it was only getting blurrier. She listened to them speaking, about Lira. She glanced at Lira. Dying, seemed like a wonderful thing. Finëwen had always hoped to die in honour.

Well, it seemed as if their task was nearly over. Wondering what lay ahead of her after this trip, Finëwen continued to listen, half paying attention, though for a moment it seemed as silence had overtaken the group. Mourning for those lost, Finëwen assumed.
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