New Journey Part One: Return of the Elves

[Olorin]

A cloud of mist floats over the Bay of Lune and settles on a grand white tower from which can be seen the now abandoned Grey Havens. Th mist begins to take shape. What seems to be a man is standing there with a grey claok draped over his sholders he lookes back and forth, a glint of white is seen beneath the grey drape. The old man hears foot steps coming up the stairs. A figure with a green cloak steps up onto the top. He pulls the hood down he is a tall elderly proud man, he is the king of the now failing kingdom of Gondor, Aranora was his name, after his father. He approached the old man.

"Gandalf," he said "I have come."

"Good", said Gandalf.

A mist was hanging over the ocean that night, and suddenly it began to move. Great white swan ships filled the horrizen, hundreds could be seen.

"What are they", asked Aranora

Gandalf turned and held him long in his gaze, "They are the elves. The Halls of Mandos have been opened,Feanor's defience forgivin. Eru's second theme is unfolding before your eyes. The elves them selves do not evemn know why they are returning but something is pulling them here. Wether it be Eru I don't know, Manwe doesn't even know, that is why I am here." Gandalf now turned away from the Ocean and looked to the East over the Northern Kingdom and over Middle-Earth "Some evil is rising in theis land, an evil that is all too familiar."

Aranora turned away from the boats "Morgoth? Sauron?"

Gandalf was silent

"Gandalf? what's the matter"

"Not Morgoth, Not Sauron, something else." He then turned and smiled at Aranora. "shall we go meet our new friends?"

Gandalf and Aranora climbed down the stairs of the white tower, mounted their horses and road of to the grey havens.

OOC: Ok just introduce your characters, the only boundries are that they must be Elf, Dwarf, Human, or hobbit, you don't even have to be at this meeting at the grey havens just introduce your charater, also you can't be part of this returning evil because that is a secret until I choose to reveal it. Ok hope people join.

[Gatsby]

The first signs of dawn began to show themselve as he prow of the ship cut gently through the mist cloaked waters that lapped earily against it. Like shadows the vessels moved in the fading night, growing ever closer to the shores they had forsaken so long ago. What drew them back to Middle Earth none could say, all that was known was all at once a profound desire was to return to the land of the origin was bourn in the hearts of many and would not subside. So like birds they flocked, unsure of why knowing only the need.

Hadrim pulled his cloak tighter about his body and looked up absently into the last shining stars, his lurid gray eyes shining with the enternal youth the Eldar were afforded. A timeless smile spread on his face as he observed them, knowing that soon he would see them from the shores of Middle Earth, a home he had not seen in over a millenia. He passed a hand through his short jet hair and looked to the elf who stood beside him.

"I wonder what remnants of our time remain... Imladris, Lorien, Mrikwood... do you suppose they remain?" he asked staring out over the water

[Tári Celebrindal]

With hooded eyes Rána stared up at white tower, reminding herself to avoid being seen. She recognized Gandalf's silhouette; she has seen him often in her travels, but she would rather not be noticed by the old man with him. There has not been much activity for such a long time in the Grey Havens that she was hesitant to reveal herself to the two.

She had always come back to the Grey Havens, even if she realizes there is nothing to return to. But tonight was different, a sense of expectation hung in the air. Rána wrapped her cloak tightly around her as she turned her attention to the coming ships. She knew that her kindred was coming, although she is hard-pressed to say why. Apprehension gripped Rána. She had always assumed they have left Middle Earth forever. The call of the sea was never strong in her; she felt maybe it was not yet time for her to leave, but many thought her decision was wrong. "I wonder why they return," she murmured to herself as she stepped closer to the tower. Deep in thought, she hardly noticed as the stars disappeared one by one.

[Olorin]

The ships pulled up to the docks of the Grey Havens. Gandalf rushed forward to great them Aranora at his side. "Mae govannen" A tall elf with the memory of many ages in his eyes stepped of the boat.

"Well met, Gandalf" he said
"Welcome back Elrond" replied Gandalf
"It has been so long since I looked apon this land." He turned to Gandalf. "Imladris?"
"Not destroyed, but abandoned. The earth has taken over. Mirkwood has fallen into the darkness of the spiders. Lothlorien was swept away by time."
A figuer apeared on the edge of the boat "That is ill news indeed." She began to make here way to the group.
"Galadriel", Gandalf greated here. "This is....."
"Aranora" Galadriel finished his sentence. "leader of the now fading kingdom of Gondor."
Aranora hung his head.
Galariel's eyes drew away from Aranora and drifted over the land. "I now partially understand why we are here. Evil is rising."
she then looked at them all "but let us not think of this right now for we have work that must be done."
Any who saw Elrond Galadriel and Gandalf standing there in that moment would never had guessed that ages had gone by.

[Tirithel]

Together the three stared out at what lay around them. To so many back on the western shores, Middle Earth was nothing but a fairy tale; a bad dream that had long since ceased to exist. Yet now here they stood, breathing in again the air of the dominion of men, and remembering sadly the lands which they had foresaken so long ago.

Galadriel sighed and shuddered. Memories of ages past flooded her mind; the brashness of youth seemed to quell in her soul, and...

(sorry, just really excited as to what may go on here...please edit or add on as you wish...):grin:

[Olorin]

ooc: well if no one joins this might just turn into a fanfic lol

[Eorl the Young]

(I'll join your RPG as well Olorin, but I don't have much experience with these sort of RPG's. Well, here goes:

The cold wind blew through his dark hair. The young elf (young for elven standards anyway) took a look around the old harbor and a great sadness pierced his heart. When he left with the last ship to the West the Grey Havens were already deserted but the memory of the elves was still there. Now it was a dead place: A ghost city, haunted with sadness and grief. The elf wondered if his homeland of Lindon were also so sad and darkend after their departure. and he also wondered about Mirkwood, Lorien and Rivendell and all the other places were the elves once lived.
"Brother. I believe these are yours?" a voice said. The elf turned around, and saw his brother, who handed him his gear and packing. He shouldered his bow and quiver (which he hadn't carried since the war of the Ring) and hung his sword around his middle as he watched as Gandalf, Galadriel, Aranora and Elrond discussed the problems in Middle-Earth and as Círdan joined them.

[Tirithel]

"A storm is brewing."
As Galadriel spoke, the others looked at her in fear. Evil had crept back into Middle Earth, and swords would again be drawn in its defense. "Rain," she continued. Indeed in the East clouds were gathering and the sky had darkened. "We must be on our way."

The ship emptied and horses were brought. As the party mounted and prepared to ride to Amon Sul, the restored watchtower of ages ago, Galadriel spoke with Gandalf. "What evil troubles these shores? I cannot see it clearly, all that I know for sure is that there is a pain in my heart that comes from what I do not know."

[Olorin]

As Galadriel stepped bare foot out onto the grass she suddenly perceived a danger with the gift of foresight which see possessed.

In the ruins of an ancient tower which Galadriel at that time did not know, a man walked down a twisted and cracked corridor over grown with plants and vines. He carried something bundled in a black cloth. He entered a room, the only room which apeared to be intact, and approached a black odsidion pedistal. He uncovered the object in his hand. It was a perfectly round crystal ball.

Galadriel looked around, suddenly reentering her orginal plain of thaught. "I am beginning to perceive this danger more clearly, we must hurry. We must set out immediately."

[Ithilraen]

Ithilraen looked out anxiously. She sees Gandalf, her foster-father Elrond and Galdadriel talking to an elderly man. Ithilraen wanted to listen and join them to see what they were talking about. She stood up and was about to get off the boat when a hand set itself firmly onto her shoulder and an all too familiar voice said "Ithil, let me come with you. For I also long to set my feet on Middle-earth once more." She turned and Legolas gave her a smile. She smiled in return and nodded.

Legolas got off the boat first then helped Ithilraen get off. Her hood slipped off and it revealed her features. She had black hair and dark green eyes. She sighed and gave herself a bittersweet smile. Her thoughts were flooded by memories of Middle-earth.

[Gatsby]

Hadrim smiled fervently at his brother who stood gazing at his lord with solemn eyes. He knew not how his brother could be so calm at such a time; for Hadrim could barely restrain his eagerness to be finally on the shores of his birth-land. Weeks of confinement aboard the Elvin ship had left him entirely weary of the sundering sea and quite anxious for the feeling of dry land beneath his feet. But still, he knew why his brother’s visage carried such a somber air; the land was changed, practically beyond recognition. The luster and spark it had once radiated seemed all but vanished, the forest appeared jaded and drained… could it all be as such? And what of the few of the Eldar that remained… what of them? The prick of dread jabbed at his heart Hadrim quickly dismissed the inquiry from his mind; he would not allow it to trouble him any further.

“Are you not excited brother!?” Hadrim eyes flashed with restrained glee as he slung his pack over his shoulder. He had not taken much with him, a few tunics and leggings, several personal items he cold not bear to part with, a pair of long knives a bow and quiver, but most importantly he carried with him a set of brushes. Carved from malorn branches and etched with Mithril, the collection of paintbrushes was undoubtedly his most prized possession. Although Hadrim had been a warrior, his heart forever-dwelt in art… he was a painter now and hoped to remain so.

Suddenly the voice of the Lady Galadriel was heard over the crowds, “Ready yourselves as quickly as you can, we leave within the hour.” Hadrim’s brow furrowed with question; what could warrant such haste? What ever it was Hadrim cared little, he was anxious to return to Lindon and see if the house of his fathers remained intact. He nudgd his brother impatiently, “Come on! Take haste!”

[Olorin]

So the party made preperations and set out into the changed world. It was not long until they had passed the white towers and were travleing into lands out siders had not set foot in for many years. Suddenly two men on horse back road up to them.
"Halt" said the one who seemed to be in charge. "You are entering into the Northern Kingdom, it was decreed long ago by King Elessar that no man should enter here."

Aranora rode forward

"Lord Aranora!" cried the man as he lowered his head. "But the law"

"I know the Law" said Aranora , "but these are not men, they are elf kind"

The man raised his head "Elves?
Galdariel held up her hand "please tell none of our return."

"Now let us pass" said Aranora. The man nodded and still staring at them all rode off.

Night was now setting and stars were now visible in the sky, some in the back of the company thaught they had stopped for rest.

"We will not rest" said Gandalf ,

"We must hurry" said Galadriel to Gandalf , "to amon sul", she held out her hand, she held a little crystal sphere, surrounded by a net of metal on a chain, "we need some where we can use this."

Gandalf yelled "Mount up" and they set out, into the Northern Kingdom.

[Tirithel]

The sun began to sink into the west, beyond the hither shores and into the blessed realm of Valinor. I turned around and watched the light shrink from the clouds. The party progressed, but slowly. There were questions as to whether the party should find someplace to camp; the sun was no longer visible and the path was difficult to navigate in the darkness. Gandalf only shook his head and urged the party forward.

The air had become thick and heavy with the dews of the coming rain. Suddenly everyone seemed to feel cramped, as though the space around them had become too small, as though their clothes were too tight. Moisture hung on my eyelashes, and my skin grew sticky with humidity. A remote sense of fear crept upon the caravan, and silence gripped the voice of everybody. Not a soul had uttered a word in wwhat seemed like hours, when a soft yet clear note rang through the trail, starting at the back and lifting the spirits of all who heard.

[Tirithel]

A Elbereth Gilthoniel
o menel palan-diriel,
le nallon si di'nguruthos!
A tiro nine, Fan-

CRASH! The song was cut off as a burst of lightning split the sky in two, and thunder shook the ground beneath them. The wind roared up out of nowhere and sheets of rain began to pour out of the heavens as though a tidal wave of the sky had been unleashed.

[Olorin]

Gnadlaf's white hair was drenched and he pulled his grey shroud about him, "WE MUST CONTINUE!" he screamed over the storm. Suddenly light was seen in the distance a hut. Gandlaf stopped the caravan. He alone approched the hut. a scream let out

"What's that ! Who's there! AAAAhhhhhh! If someone's there i'm armed!" an arrow went shotting almost straight up into the air and hit a tree. "Ha Ha stay back back I say"

"HOLD" yelled Gandalf.
"Who's That!" yelled the voice.
"My name is Olorin, but once in these parts I was called Gandalf."
"Gandalf? I don't know you. Be you Hobbit?"
"Don't know who I am?"

suddenly about 20 hobbits sprung up around them, arrows notched. All the party reached for weapons but Elrond yelled. "BE STILL!"

A hobbit raised a lantern and looked at their faces also revealing his face, he was dressed in a uniform and a red cape, he was the only one of them dressed in this way. "MEN! Law breakers!"

The other hobbit who was short evn by hobbit standerds rushed to him "Captain, I caught them, yup me, all me!"

"You know the laws, that men are not permitted inside are borders. Take them prisoner." The Hobbits bagan to move forward."

"stop", said Gandalf pleading with the captain "we are not......."
"Silence!" yelled the captain as he drew his arrow and pointed it at Gandalf.
Suddenly Gandalf through of his grey drape revealing his shimmering white robes. A streak of lightning cut through the air and Thunder shook the ground. "HOW DARE YOU!" the wind blew hard, blowing the Hobbits bows out of their hands, as Gandalf raised his staff. "THEY ARE NOT MEN, THEY ARE ELVES. THIS IS ARANORA KING OF MEN AND I............ I AM GANDALF THE WHITE!"

The captain had alook of absolute terror on his face. "gandalf?"
They were taken to a small tavern on the outscurts of Hobbiton, there was barely enough room for all of them. In the captain's private quarters, he sat with Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, and Aranora. (Cirdan and Legolas were in the bar with the others)." I am Filmo captain of the Bounders he on the western borders of the Northern Kingdom. There have been strange folk wondering these lands of late, Men, Orcs, somesay the dwarves have been coming from the mountains, and now elves from across the sea. A darkness is creeping in from the south. But I have hope now that youu have returned" He pulled out an old brown crumpled peice of paper with an ancient drwing of an old man standing on a broken bridge and a demon of fire, falling into darkness. "You have come to save us."

[Tirithel]

Tirithel sat crouched in a corner of the dimly lit bar. Silently she stared out into the crowd, reading the faces of her companions and wondering how things were going between Gandalf and the...um, oh what were they called? The halflings- erm, hobbits! Yes that's it. What had hobbits to do with anything? A rather unobtrusive and unimportant people, she thought. What could be so important in this Middle Earth to warrant the long trip over the seas from the Blessed Land of Aman? What could be so worth disturbing the peace that the Noldor had toiled so long for and so hardly bought? Was this not the realm of men? Why couldn't they handle it. Yes- the time of the Elves had ended long ago. Her people had left these shores, entrusting it to the care of the Younger Race, and now they were failing and needed help again. Hmmmpf!

Tirithel sighed heavily, irritating herself with her own thoughts. She continued her searchless gaze around the room, until her eyes slipped through the doorway into the adjacent hall, where Gandlaf, Galadriel and the King were speaking. Her sight rested on Aranora, and for a long while, she studied his face.

It was stern and proud, fit with the air that accompanied human royalty. He looked tired- as though he hadn't slept in days. Although in his eyes, there burned both a sadness and a fire that Tirithel could not decipher. He stood tall, almost to the height of Galadriel, and looked powerfully down on the hobbits, clustered like children around him.

Gandalf's expression had grown grave and serious. Tirithel had never seen it so. Having been born at the Return of the Noldor, Middle Earth was only a dream to her- a myth that parents told their children at bedtime to ease sleep. He had always been so merry and delightful to be around, with a smile that never ceased to beam and a laugh that echoed throughout Valinor. This setting was so different and so dark- why Gandalf had come here and why he had bid her come, she did not know. What business did a maker of fireworks and a storyteller have in the perils of another land? The air was close and hot in this world, and she felt something she had never experienced before. She felt a pang of fear in her heart, as was completely foreign to the Land of Aman, and it proved great unquiet within her in the days to come.

"What troubles this place?" she whispered to herself.

[Ithilraen]

Legolas looked over at Ithilraen and smiled. Ithilraen returned the smile but Legolas could see that something was troubling her. "My love, what bothers you?"
Ithilraen sighed and said, "I feel the darkness and evil that will accend upon Middle-earth if something is not done. Look at these hobbits, they were such a peaceful race once. now they're armed and always ready to kill anyone that even puts a finger over the borders." She looked toward the captian's private quarters, " I wish I knew what was being said."

[Olorin]

"Filmo," said Gandalf " I fear for you and your people this evil seems to have some resentment towards you, but yet I don't know why."

Galadriel grabbed Gandalf's hand she wispered some thing "t..... a....ms" she turned to Filmo "TO ARMS!"

yells were heard, from out side Filmo ran to the window and yelled "Torches, from the hills"

"Who are they", asked Elrond

"Orcs"All pulled weapons, even Galdriel and rushed into the tavern "TO arms" screamed Gandalf as he ran out the door, all the elves gathered there weapons and ran into the night.

The orcs were already spilling into the streets of the little town.

[Eorl the Young]

Elvenbows sang in the night. The cries of orcs are heard in the night. Elrond stormed out of the inn and immediatly gathered the high elves.

"Yirch!" said Thranduil, "They will feel our bows!"
"Celeborn, Thranduil, Círdan!" commanded Elrond, "Gather your archers around the village." "Then we will drive them towards you!"
"We must hurry before the orcs can make a stronghold in the village!" said Aranora and he blew his great horn of Gondor which was heard all over the Shire."
As Thranduil, Celeborn and Círdan led the archer to the outskirts of the town, Gandalf, Elrond and Aranora gathered a group of fair elfwarriors and they drew their swords.
Aranora pulled out Andúril, the flame of the West, the sword of Elendil and Aragorn, which still brings joy to it's friends and fear to it's foes.
Gandalf wielded Glamdring, and for the first time since the third age did the sword of Turgon glow in the night.
Elrond pulled out a beautiful sword from the second age and although it doesn't have as much linage as the other swords, it does bring fear to it's enemies.
And Galadriel held a sword of the Galadrim: Galadlon, a sword specially created for her by the elvensmiths of Gil Galad and one of the few blades that could match the power and quality of the blades of the old days
The elves stormed forward into the vilage and the orcs were filled with surprise, amazement and fear. The hobbitsoldiers were filled with joy as Gandalf the White, Elrond half-elven, Aranora king of Gondor and Arnor and Galadriel the lady of the light led the elves into their first battle of the forth age, but not the last.

[Tirithel]

Tirithel was roused from her thoughts by yelling coming from outside. Hurriedly the other elves rushed by her and out the door.

"What's going on?" she cried vainly into the crowd. "What's the matter?"

A tall elf with dark hair alted his step just long enough to turn and face her. "Yrch!" he spat. He was fast out the door with the others before she could ask another question.

"Orcs?" she thought to herself. This all seemed still as a scary bedtime story, but the screeching emanating through the streets in the distance told her otherwise. These sounds were not made by elf, nor man, nor hobbit.

Her heart began to beat within her chest as the marching beat of drums approached, and her hands quivered at her sides. The tiny fear in her heart quelled to the anticipation of battle, and her breath shook sketchily. Her eyes grew wide as she watched monsters of crooked stature, horrid to look upon rush reeling past the open door, and the clanging and crashing of swords began to ring outside. For a brief moment she stood frozen in the now empty bar marvelling at the bad dream come to life.

Her silence was soon distubed as a large orc spotted her motionless and alone in the tavern. It came snarling in and flew up to her swinging its cruel scimitar. Its growls seemed to snap her awake as the flickering candle light caught the harsh edge of its blade and snapped her back to life. Now within a foot of her, the slimy creature dealt a merciless swing aimed for her neck, and without thinking, she thrust her hand up to meet the hilt.

AH! She had missed, but only slightly. Her hand froze, gripping the blade two inches above the handle, and blood began to drip down the metal and flow over her arm. She let fly a howling shriek of pain before she seized the orc's sword from him, and still gripping the scimitar by the blade, spun and thrust it through her foe's torso.

It gave a final shriek of pain and fell lifeless to the floor. Tirithel stood for a moment still in shock as the blood continued down her hand and fell to the floor beside her vanquished enemy. The cries continued outside, and strangely instinctively she flipped the orc-blade to its hilt and ran outside to meet the storm. Apparently she was not so out of place after all.

[Olorin]

Galdriel was more graceful in battle then anyother time, her blade was not hindered by wood, metal or flesh and cut smoothly through what ever it touched. She pinned an orc in the mud and grabbed him around the neck . The orc spit in her face and she tightened her grip cutting off it's air flow. She held her hand with the small crystal she had brought to the forehead of the struggling orc. A vision came to her,.

The orcs were preparing for battle in a large cavern in the mountains, the one who seemed to be in charge held a note, Galadriel's mind followed the notes course backwards in time to it's source, the ruined tower she had seen before. The cloaked man held his hand over the crystal ball, and spoke in his mind. "I have the dagger of the traitor."

As more of the theam that Eru had layed before them became clear Galadriel came to the realization of all, that was before them. She stood, (the orc was dead) she screamed "GANDALF!" but he could not hear her. He was fiercly fighting his white robes now brown and red with mud and blood. Glamdring was magnificant that day. But his skill could not save him from the arrow which found his heel, he fell into the mud. An orc which Gandalf had sepersted from it's legs crawled to him with a dagger in his hand. Gandalf out streched his fingers and touched the orc, electricity surged through the orcs body. Gandalf stuggled up to his feet, but as he stood he saw throught the mud the armor which the orc wore a peice of armor adorned with the simbol of the whit hand. The battle continued around him, Galadriel screamed. "GANDALF, IT'S SARUMAN." the last of the orcs were running and pursued by a small band of elves.

Gandalf was shocked and stared into nothingness, Elrond took his sholder Gandalf looked at him without really looking at him, "Tell the rest, we are spending the night her," Gandalf started to walk away.

"Where are you going," yelled Elrond after him

"To think", said Gandalf.

[Tirithel]

A rage had settled on Tirithel's body. Her arms flew in a grace so violent that any who dared to cross her path soon lay dead in its wake. Her eyes burned in a fury amidst her bloodstained face, lips shouting cries unnerving to the soul as she cut threw a band of orcs in a torment.

Across the way, she spotted Gandalf swinging Glamdring in anger and close by, Galadriel sat stooped over a dying orc. Many of the enemy were running now; hobbits lined the streets with their bows and felled goblin by goblin in flight.

A small band of elves was chasing the retreat, and Tirithel jumped to follow, still brandishing the scimitar she had won from her first kill. A strong hand grabbed her arm and jolted her back. The rage had not left her yet, and without looking she swung to decapitate her captor.

A mighty battle cry escaped her lungs and was cut short as she looked into the face of the King Aranora, who now grasped her wrist firmly in his hand. The blade of the scimitar had frozen no more than six inches from his skull, and the rage suddenly dropped from Tirithel's face.

Her muscles unravelled and a sober look came into her eye as she mirrored the King's gaze.

"There are enough there," he calmly pointed out, gesturing with his chin towards the disappearing band of trackers. "Your strength could be better put to use here."

She looked around; the once peaceful street was covered with the bodies of orcs, heaped upon it like everyday refuse. The King let her go and turned to leave. Tirithel glared hard into his back and was about to refute his charge to clean-up duty when he turned again to face her. "Drop that ungodly orc-blade. Here's a better." He handed her from his belt a long knife, writ with the ancient spells of Numenor. His eyes caught hers again, in a moment of understanding, and with a solemn nod he turned and proceeded towards Galadriel and Gandalf, who were heading back to the inn.

With a clang the blood-smeared sword hit the ground, and Tirithel began to drag the bodies of her foes to the already high fire in the distance.

[Elvenwanderer]

ooc: I've never quite done this before.....

ic:
A horse came riding in from a distance, most surprisingly from the East. It was a grey stallion, one of the few Rohirrim horses this far from Rohan. On its back was a she-elf, tall, pround, and late. She was one of the remaining elves, and a very influential one at that.

Elrond saw her coming, and stayed outside of the tavern waiting for her. He smiled, and took the reins as she dismounted. "Gil-galad's wife did not use to make a habit of being tardy, Majesty." He jested.

"I know, I meant to be at the docks when you arrived, but was delayed. When I heard Aranora's call, I saddled Rundiniel as quickly as possible. I am sorry to be late. It's good to see you again." She replied.

"You too. It's been too long." Elrond said, and hugged her. The she-elf smiled and hugged him back.

Gandalf called from inside the tavern that Elrond was wanted, but soon ran outside when he saw who was with him. "Queen Adara Authwen Randirel.... so nice to see you again." He bowed. "But I must stress that we hurry, this weather is terrible, and there are wounded to take care of."

"All right... I will see to them." Authwen (she disliked her given name, Adara) replied. She quickly ran to see her friend Legolas, who had a gash on his forehead.

[Ithilraen]

Authwen found Legolas already tended to by Ithilraen. Ithilraen saw the Queen approach and quickly got up and bowed.
"Mae govannen, your Highness." said Ithilraen. Legolas struggled to get up as quickly, but Authwen smiled and said, "Sit, please both of you." Ithilraen smiled a thanks and continued to tend to Legolas.
"Authwen how are you? Le ab-dollen. You look good. How things fare in the East?" asked Legolas.
Authwen looked to the East with worry in her eyes.

[Elvenwanderer]

"Not well, mellyn nîn." Authwen shook her head. Her chestnut brown hair came out of a braid and dropped in front of her face. With a graceful hand, she sweeped it back into the braid. "I am afraid that Saruman somehow has returned, and has been creating more trouble. I cannot say any more now, not even with Legolas here."

Authwen nervously smiled, turned, and started walking towards the filled tavern. She looked up as large drops of rain began to fall on her forehead. Suddenly, the clouds parted, and she saw a hilled brown landscape with thousands of moving black dots on it. They were in lines, and each was holding a long scimitar or sword. Then, Authwen was taken out into the mountains, high above them. She was an eagle. She could see....

Just as quickly, Authwen was released. She fell onto her knees. Her breathing was short and quick, and she had a look of terror on her face. Authwen had always reacted terribly to these visions... though never had she had a reaction this terrible.

Legolas and Ithilraen ran over, the look on their faces gave away that they thought she had been injured.

[Tirithel]

Black smoke swirled into the sky and trailed off into the night. Tirithel followed it on its journey upward until the first star of the evening peeped through the disappearing storm clouds.

"Ah, Elentari..."she mused, thinking fondly of home, and of Elemmire above Taniquetil at dusk. But the stars were strange here, and Tirion was far away. Already since leaving the Blessed Realm she had begun to feel the absense of its presense, and it pained her.

It seemed like eons had passed when she shook her head loose from memory and brought her thoughts back to earth. She looked down into the fire for a bit before she realized a hobbit had been standing next to her for some time. Tirithel looked down at him indifferently, her green eyes flickering in the firelight.

"That's some nasty cut on your hand there," he said, glancing down to her palm. The cut! She had forgotten all about it! Her hand automatically turned over at his words, and she lost her breath for a second as its hideousness filled her sight. The palm had been sliced straight through, from the inner corner of her thumb almost to the bottom of her pinky. The flesh around it was ragged and turning black; blood had crusted to the skin all around it and stained her beautiful white skin up and down her arm. In amazement she passed her other hand over it. "You ought to have it looked at."

Again the hobbit jerked her attention into the world, and she silently nodded in agreement.

"I'm Will. Will Bolger," he extended with a courtesy.

"Tirithel," she replied, still in a daze.

"Glad to meet you," he said with a red-cheeked smile. "Come! Let's get that hand taken care of."

She stole one last glimpse of the stars, and with a sigh let him lead her back to the tavern, where the others had already reconvened.

[Ithilraen]

"Authwen!" Legolas cried. Ithilraen quickly did a quick inspection of Authwen, she was afraid the Queen had sustained a wound unknown to them. Authwen waved Ithilraen away. Ithilraen gave Legolas a worried look in her eyes.
"Authwen, did you have a vision?" Legolas asked softly.
Ithilraen gave a startled look. She heard ruomers that the Queen did have visions. but she always dismissed them. For Ithilraen, seeing was believeing She only thought that her foster father, and Galadriel had them. With a puzzled face she looked at Authwen, seeking an anwer.

[Gatsby]

With a quick tug Hadrim pulled his arrow from the orcs foul corpse; it had been a relatively small party of orcs, no more than a hundred perhaps, but still his knives bloodied and his quiver was nearly emptied. He had suspcted battle, but not so soon... they had only arrived the night before and already a battle cry had passed through his lips.

"Authwen!" He heard an elf voice cry in the distance, it's owner wa undoubtably Legolas Greenleaf. Elrond, Galadriel, Cirdan, Gandalf, Thranduil, Gil-Galad, Legolas, and now Authwen the camp was swarming with Eldar nobility. Hadrim could not help but feel a bit uneasy around them, it was not that he feared them or admired them to the point of anxiety it was merely that he could not identify with them. He had always found them to be quite a serious class, consumed by perpetual worry and worn down by duty; Hadrim's mirthful spirit coul not undrstand the need for such ways and drove him to avoid the nobility, as he would continue to do. Slinging his bow up onto his shoulder he headed back to camp with the others.

A short distance away Hadrim saw a terribly peculiar sight, atiny shadow perhaps half his hight walked beside a tall graceful figure... who he recognized with in a second
"Tirithel!" he cried hastening his pass into a jog

[Eorl the Young]

A sharp pain went through his body. The young elf of Lindon suddenly awoke from the black void that was around him. He tried to yell from the pain but his chest was pressed down by a tight chain around his middle and no sound left his mouth.
The second pain he felt was at the back of his head and he tried to touch the wound with his hand but they were bound to his back.
He looked up and becouse of his keen elven eyes he could see a light far in the distance and he could faintly hear the lammenting of the elves and the songs of joy from the soldiers of hobbits and men and above all he heard some faint cries: "Authwen!" and a few seconds later he heard someone scream: "Tirithel!" and he recognized both names and he searched his memory and tried to find the persons behind the names. But it failed. His head spun around in pain and confusion and the only memories that returned were the last moments on the battlefield: he stood among his kinsmen and he stood by the banner of Thranduil. Orcs tried to fight their way tyhgough the ring of archer and they attacked with full force the compagny of Thranduil. He had to fight with the sword and wild orcs in fear and anger chargerd strait through their lines. Thranduil managed to keep his compagny together and counter the enemy for most part but some were cut of from the main group and they were sloughtered. He copuld remember hacking of the arm of a great Uruk and then he felt a great pain against the back of his head and then all went black.
Suddenly the elf felt hope rising in him and dispite the tight chaines around his lungs he yelled: "Hail lords of the West! You will not abandon a servant of your house to tornement and death willingly by!.." he was cut of by a punch right in the face. A hand covered his mouth and nearly chooked him and he was beaten and many spit on him. Above all a deep voice said: "We need to move on! The prisoner is dangerous!" The orc covering the face of the elf yelled back: "We need rest! It was a hard battle and was bitterly lost!" The voice replied: "Only if you bring me the head of the King you will recieve rest. Now keep quiet and move on quickly before his friends answer to his call!" "Can't we just kill him and sneak way." "You know we will be rewarded for every new slave we bring to the masters' mines." "So we must go now and take him with us and cleam our rewards!" The orcs growl softly and the elf felt all his hope turn into dispear.

[Tirithel]

"Dark times, these," Will continued as Tirithel unwittingly followed him back to the inn. "Orcs streamin' down outta the hills like they ain't no one's business, wolves and other less than sightly creatures prowlin' through the woods. Life's been awful strange 'round here for a long time, but lately its been even worse. Ever since them lights started flashin over there in the sky, it's been a fight tooth and nail just to hold our own."

"Lights?" she interrupted, breaking her steady gaze to the ground. "Where?"

"Yonder," the hobbit responded, waving his arm in direction. "Over there, over east behind them hills." Tirithel peered off eastward into the sky, searching. Sure enough, miles off storm clouds gathered and massed , though they did not appear to be travelling anywhere. They just hovered behind the hills in the distance, lit from below with a pale blue sheen, as if some enormous fire raged below them.

"Tirithel!" Her thoughts were startled by a clear cry from behind her. She turned and watched Hadrim saunter up from the direction of the pyre. His hands were bloody and he looked somewhat tired, but other than that appeared to be all right.

"Hadrim!" she gave him a weak smile as he slowed up beside them. "What do you make of that?" She asked distantly and gestured towards the lights in the distance. Will looked to him, also curious to know if he had any answers.

[Elvenwanderer]

ooc: was there a thread posted w/ profiles? or do we not want them?

ic:
Gil-galad rushed over to his wife of old, none of his love for her forgotten. He pushed past Legolas and Ithilraen, for they were born after he died, and therefore he did not know them.

"Authwen... Are you all right?" Gil-galad said worriedly. He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

Authwen was not to be taken for some nanny-elf who needed to be taken care of. That was not how she was. "I'm fine, everyone. Really. Yes, it was a vision, and yes, I still try to ignore them. This time is different. This one was worse." She shook her head, and tried to stand up, but fell over. Her legs were limp. Luckily, Gil-galad was there to catch her.

"You won't be walking for a while. That is the worse reaction than I have ever seen." Gil-galad said, worriedly. Reluctantly, Authwen let herself be picked up by her husband, and carried back into the tavern.

All of the High Eldar had worried looks on their faces, for Authwen was dear to them. They also had great respect for her, for until now, she was one of the last elves remaining in Middle-Earth.

They all turned as they heard the name "Tirithel" screamed in the background. But soon, all relaxed again as it was not a scream of terror, but of hope. Galadriel, Círdan, Elrond and Thranduil now all looked angry at whomever had dared to scream.

Meanwhile, Gil-galad carried Authwen to the tavern and made her sit down while he got her a large mug of tea. The rest of the High-Elves as well as Ithilraen and Aranora and a few others came in after them, and all sat down by a circular table, just big enough for all of them.

Nearby was a hobbit sitting with two elves, who were leaning close in quiet conversation.

Legolas looked worriedly at his old friend, who smiled. Authwen was feeling better, though a bit shaky and cold. She whispered to her husband, and he put his strong arm around her. Authwen nuzzled into him. It had been almost four thousand years (?) since she had seen her love.

Aranora began the conversation, by asking courteously how the Elves' trip was...

ooc: I'm tired... end is lame. sorry!

[Olorin]

OOC: To make some cerrections, Gil-Galad is dead and although his spirit is released from the Halls of Mandos his body is destroyed, the evil is coming from the south not the east, and the battle was supposed to be over so I don't know where you are going Eorl but noone knows you have been taken prisoner so no one is coming after you.

IC: Gandalf was sitting alone in an empty chamber smoking his pipe, thinking. Suddenly a distant memory came to him but oh so real.

He was falling and fire was about him, and the dark beast clawed firoustiosly at him, he was ever burned, and hurt and scared as the fire was about him.

Suddenly Gandalf returned to his original realm of thaught. He looked at his hand the smooth clear skin turned rinckled and developed liver spots "My the Valar protect us all." He said.

The voices in the tavern were but background noise as someone yelled "everyone celebrate." obviously a hobbit.

[Elvenwanderer]

OOC: Sorry Olorin! do you want me to repost (or can we just leave it?)? Cause I missed the '15 minute edit limit' by one minute! If the problem is in the south.... **pulls out ME Atlas** does that mean in like Rohan (Harad?)? I'm confused. :(

[Eorl the Young]

-- That doesn't matter Olorin, in fact it was my intention (for the story) to be taken by orcs and brought to the new dark fortress for I don't have the time to post often for a couple a weeks and I think this was a good way for taking my character out of the story for a while. I hope you don't mind :) If I have the time I might post a few times more. So I don't need to be rescued yet lol Sorry if the change bothered you --

[Dawnnamira Nerwen]

I would be grateful if Olorin would start on OOC thread for this RP.

There charcter profiles will be posted (We prefer that, because it gives the people RPing together an idea who they're with/up against.) and all OOC conversation will go on.

Thank you...

Dawn

[Halindir]

An elf riding a horse comes to Elrond and says that another force of orcs was gathering in southern Rhovanion and would likely oblterate the half-lings.

[Tirithel]

ooc: um yeah whatever that stands for- I agree with Dawn. For anyone else just reading this little adventure of ours it may be a good idea to omit all the side talk here and move it to another location. If no one minds I can start up the ooc thread, unless you'd all rather have Olorin do it. I'l wait for approval before doing so! I'm audi!

[Olorin]

OOC: ok ooc thread has been posted so this will be the last ooc , no you don't need to repost, the darkness is coming from sort of south east like rohan area, fangorn, isengard.

[Tirithel]

Music swelled up in the little bar like a roaring tidal wave. Hobbits pranced around like fairy children singing songs of their victory, and someone had brought out a fiddle and sawed a choppy yet merry tune. The ale flowed and the music danced like a feather on the wind, yet Tirithel could not celebrate. It gladdened her to see these little folk so alive and full of merryment, and she almost could have laughed for joy, but her heart was not with it.

Since the first blow had been dealt, the pain in her heart had been steadily increasing; whether it was homesickness or the new fear she bore, she could not tell. The only thing she knew for certain was that it would be a long time before she could laugh again. Something was coming, and she ws uncertain as to whether or not she was ready for it.

[Halindir]

The elf, Halindir, was a captain during the Last Alliance and fought beside Gil-Galad and Elrond. He strolls outside and stares at the moon absorbed in his thoughts about the coming storm.

[Elvenwanderer]

Real quick OOC: just forget my last in character post, please.

IC: Seeing Ithilraen and Legolas standing over her with worried faces, Authwen tried to smile and stand up, but instead almost fell over.
“Yes, my old friend, it was a vision. Will you help me up?” Authwen said, putting up a hand. Ithilraen and Legolas both helped her. Authwen wobbled a bit, but could soon stand again on her own.
“Thank you. Let’s go to the inn, I think it is rather merry in there. I hear music…” Authwen said, trying to cover up the pain in her face. There was a clap of thunder, making the inn look quite inviting. “I’ll follow behind you.”
When Legolas and Ithilraen didn’t leave, Authwen said, “Do you doubt me? I’m fine.” A blue light began to glow from the bracelet on her wrist, as her anger grew.

[Ithilraen]

Ithilraen backed up just a little, but Legolas who has been Authwen's friends for countless years and knew her well was more determined not to leave her side.
"Authwen, I have never seen a vision affect you like this. I am concerned. I think you should tell Gandalf or Galadriel about it."

[Elvenwanderer]

Authwen sighed, and apologized to her friends. "They already know. Galadriel has them too, but she handles them better. Come," She reached her arm out. "We'll all go in together, and talk to Galadriel and Gandalf. I need a drink, a butter mead... Even though I'm an elf, I've found them very good...."

Shocked, the two elves followed Authwen into the door, and were all surprised by the merriment within. There were a few of the halflings singing and dancing on a table, and others were making music on all sorts of things. Authwen quickly looked around, and saw an elf she did not recognize, and a hobbit sitting in the corner.

[Tirithel]

"You sure are a quiet one!" Will exclaimed over his beer. "Most Elves never seem to tire bragging about there battle conquests. Look at that bunch over there-" he waved his mug in the general direction of Gandalf and crew. "They haven't stopped blabbing since they got inside!"

Tirithel looked up into the hobbit's round red face, with noticable disdain in her eyes. "They are not bragging, good sir. I have not a clue what they are speaking of, but they are not bragging. The malice in her voice gave Will a bit of a start, and he leaned back o his stool, staring back at her in shock. With further distemperment, Tirithel continued. "Elves do not delight in killing. They do only what they must. No elf from my land has shed the blood of another in a long age, and were it not for this troubled little land and its incompetent rulers, it would have stayed that way!"

The words snapped off of her tongue and cracked at the old Halfling like the end of a whip. Minutes passed in silence. Tirithel had resumed staring at the floor under her feet, but Will had not moved. Finally, with a courageous sip of beer, he fluffed up enough courage to speak again. "I'm sorry, M'Lady. I didn't mean anything by it, I just figured-"

Her green eyes flashed violently in his direction again, this time beginning to sprout tears, and without a word she informed him that he was not to go making assumptions on her part. Will closed his mouth and in a moment of hobbit geius took on the quiet face of a patient father. Will had children of his own, now long grown and out of the nest. He knew the look of impetuous, confused youth, and Tirithel bore it now.

[Tirithel]

"How old are you, Tirithel?" The question seemed a bit at odds with the setting, but the old hobbit thought that its answer may hold some significance. He hadn't much contact with with elves- in fact, never before now, but had always thought of them as beautiful and old at the same time, inherently possessing as if by magic the wisdom of the ages, yet that was not so here.

A tear carved its path down her cheek as she looked up at him, the malice turned to sadness. "Your question should be not how old, but how young. Yesterday I was a child, playing in the foam of the sea. Today, I became old- as old as Cirdan in a heartbeat. It is too much aging to accomplish in so short a time. I do not belong here!" She paused amidst her tears. "Something is very wrong about the earth on this shore, and I do not know how much of this strange air I can breathe until it strangles me."

Tirithel looked up into his face and saw compassion. She in fact was nearly 140 years older than he, yet she possessed only a fraction of his wisdom. He seemed to understand.

Suddenly, as though someone had flicked on a light, she realized that others were watching her. She straightened herself and hastily smeared the tears from her cheeks, and quietly choking back a final sob, she looked back to Will and murmured, "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"Apparently not!" he giggled in light hearted response. She smiled weakly, thankful for his patience. They talked for a long time, and Tirithel told him of Valinor and Tuna under the stars, fondly reminiscing of memories so recent that were too far away. He inquired about her people and how she came to be a part of this quest that (as it seemed) she had nothing to do with.

"Gandalf asked me to be here," she replied, dully.

"Gandalf?!" Will said. "The White Wizard brought you to us?"

"Yes, Gandalf. Although to my people he is known as Olorin. Why do you ask?" She was clearly concerned.

The look of wisdom again passed Will's chubby face, and he smiled softly. "My dear," he said, "the deeds and doings of Gandalf the Grey have trickled down through history untainted. Take it from this old hobbit: if Gandalf wanted you here, you certainly are not out of place." Tirithel pondered his words as he spoke, with questions brimming over in her mind. He continued, "Be brave, Tirithel. Do not let fear destroy what hope remains; there is peril laying across every path, and dangers unknown lurking around every corner. Even the wisest cannot see all ends, but If Gandalf brought you here, it is no accident."

With a look of caring farewell, the hobbit jumped off his barstool and pushed through the crowd away from her. Raising his mug as he went. Tirithel sat, dumbfounded, but with a small hope quelled in her heart- a flame that would hard be extinguished.

[Halindir]

Halindir shakes off his thought and heads back inside and sits down in a corner by another elf. "What do you think of all this Arelas," Halindir asked. "There's this black cloud in my thoughts," Arelas said, "and it just keeps getting bigger." Arelas and Halindir were best friends and they'd hardly, if ever, been apart.
After a long chat the two elvesjoin in the marry making but are a bit subdued.

[Tirithel]

Tirithel sits alone in the corner, lost again in thought and seriousness among all the dancing and merriment.

[Elvenwanderer]

Suddenly, the hobbit left the corner where he was talking with the elf.

Authwen waved for her friends Legolas and Ithilraen to leave her. Authwen went off to the corner to see this strange elf.

"Hello, may I sit here?" She asked, gesturing towards the empty seat. The she-elf didn't answer.

"Excuse me?" Authwen said, getting rather annoyed at being ignored. Even with very few of her people left here, she was not used to being ignored. Her bracelet began to glow slightly.

The she-elf looked up, and Authwen was surprised by her piercing green eyes. "Sorry... go ahead." She said, haltingly, and went back into deep thought.

Authwen sat there for awhile, after she had gotten her butter mead, and thought also. Of the many things that ran through her head, these are but a few, <Why have the elves returned? Who is this sitting here?>

"What is your name?" Authwen questioned. "I'm Authwen.... I doubt that you know me, and I certainly have never seen you before. Do you come from Valinor?"

[Tirithel]

Tirithel looked up into a face she had never seen before. Startlingly blue eyes peered back kindly and shook her from her daze.

"Tirithel," she replied factually. "Yes- I'm from Valinor. I live in Tirion." She took a deep breath and sat up straight. "What do you call home? You have not the look of an Elf of Aman." The mood she was in left a rude, conceited tone in her voice that was completely unbidden, when in fact her interest in this new being had begun to break the seeming spell that lay so heavily on her. Indeed she had never seen an Elf like this before; something held different about this one, and she could not figure what.

[Elvenwanderer]

Authwen smiled, "Well, I do not look like I am from Aman for a good reason. I am not. I am one of the few elves that stayed here throughout the end of the second, third and fourth ages. I cannot leave while any of my people remain... I couldn't stand to part with this land, for this is what I call home... over 7000 years in Middle Earth, and it kind of grows on you." She sat there in silence, wondering if she had said too much. Authwen did not want this she-elf to treat her like everyone else did. Too much respect made her feel too much like a queen. Authwen did not want to be that seperated from the normal elf.

Tirithel looked at her with confusion in her green eyes. "What do you me..."

Authwen cut her off. She was staring at the floor. She looked sad, and somewhat desperate. When she looked up, her saphire eyes were sharp and demanding. "Please, whatever you find out about me, or my past, call me Authwen... all right? I do not want a title between friends." Suddenly, she smiled again. "What brings you to Middle Earth Tirithel? Surely Tirion is much better than here?"

[Tirithel]

"Aye," she agreed, "But is there anything better than one's own home? Such a place holds a beauty of the rarest demeanor for each so lucky to have a home. Of late, however, I begin to appreciate it all the more. This land is strange, full of a shifting turmoil that I have never known before, and ever will I long for home until I find it again. This place is too raw and to grieved to hold any beauty at all for me, and I do not see how one could venture to give it the sanctified title of home."

Tirithel paused in her speech and looked back to the face of her companion; it was a bit drawn and looked somewhat sad. SHe abruptly changed both her tone and the subject. With a strange new glance at the elf, she continued her speech.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat, "I can give you no good reason as to why I or anyone else is here. All answers lie over there in the discussion of the privilaged nobility, who seem to busy molding the future to make much of the rest of this."

[Olorin]

*ok i am going to be REALLY busy in these next two weeks so I won't be able to post as much as I should like just giving you a heads up*

[Halindir]

OOC: OK Olorin

[Elvenwanderer]

OOC: k, Olorin, ttyl.... do I guess you have college finals?

IC: Authwen was somewhat surprised at the severity with which her young (to her) friend spoke. "I have never been there, but I do not believe that I could call Tirion home. I think that that is because I have seen Middle Earth in much better days, and I have a blind hope that I will see them again. Someday, I hope, Tirithel, both of our opinions will change." She said quite unnecessarily strongly. She calmed down, and said. "But, I believe you feel wrong about the 'priviledged' nobility. You don't know what we see, and what we feel every time someone gets their hand cut. It is terrible. But, everyone has different opinions. I must go visit my family... it was nice talking, Tirithel." She put her mug on the table, and stood up.

Authwen genuinly smiled as she neared the tables where her family and friends of old were sitting, well, not sitting. They all stood as Authwen neared them. Tirithel could barely hear what she said over the loudness in the pub, but what she did hear was surprising.

"Mae govannen, Majesty." The she-elf Galadriel said, as she bowed. Authwen pulled her into a hug, and soon, the elf standing behind her, who was known as Celeborn.

"Hello again, Mithrandir, Ada, Legolas, Ithilraen... and, Your Majesty." Authwen bowed as she spoke to the King of Men.

Authwen looked rather confused as she saw the other elf standing outside. "Is that actually him? I haven't seen Halindir for so long. Since my husband died... "

[Tirithel]

We nobility...? Tirithel thought. As Authwen walked away and over to the table around which Galadriel and co. were sitting, the impetuous elf put two and two together and realized how ungraciously she had treated this lady of what must be considerable political stature. Her jaw dropped, as she saw the queen glance back over her shoulder at her, still in a very formal conversation with the others.
"I must apologize," she quietly murmured to herself. "I must apologize- oh how I must have offended her with my crass remarks." As she slid off her barstool and prepared to go over and present her "I'm sorry," she thought of how embarassing it would be for some arrogant sprite of a girl to interrupt a conversation between royalty. Awkwardly, she bent her course right and slid quickly out the door.

"Now is not the time..."

[Elvenwanderer]

OOC: gosh... I don't know if anyone is here anymore.... sniff

ic:
Authwen watched as Tirithel slipped out of the door, and back outside. Instantly the Queen felt bad. <I should not have said what I did, she is young, and yet she seems so aged. I hope she does not think me a snot, or her typical "priviliged nobility."> Authwen tossed around the thought about going outside to apologize to the she-elfling, but thought the better of it. <The time will present itself.>

Authwen soon got in deep conversation with her friend of old, Legolas, and his love, Ithilraen. "So, I have heard that Tirion and Valinor are wonderful... is this true?" Authwen said loudly, to cover up what she really wanted to talk about. She leaned in, and whispered to her friends.

[Tirithel]

The warm lamplight from inside rayed onto her back as she scooted out the door. The shock of cold air nipped her cheeks and she shuddered as she automatically looked upwards to the stars. Already she was mapping them out; the ones back home she knew by heart, and had drawn many skymaps for her father, even as a child. These were new to her, though, and it presented an interesting task to jot their positions in her head as their glimmer reflected in her eyes.

At unawares she began to hum a tune: a peaceful sweet melody of her homeland, borne on a soothing breeze out of her heart. The night air was cool, but fresh, compared to the stuffy, smoke-ridden atmosphere of the tavern. Strangely enough, the harsh shock of battle had slipped from her mind, as a dream that flees at the dawn, and under the twinkling stars, Tirithel felt her feet itch to walk.

[Halindir]

Halindir leaves the tavern with Arelas. They get on their elven horses and ride off into the night. " I'm not sure if this 'scouting' is really necessary," says Arelas, "If Lord Elrond had wanted us to scout the area ahead he would've told us." "You are mistaken my friend," says Halindir, "He trusts in my decisions."

As they rode through the countryside Halindir felt as if he were being watched. "Leave the horses and follow me," he says to Arelas. Their cloaks of old Lorien hid them from prying eyes but their horses were still visisble. Arelas muttered a small incantation under his breathe and pointed toward a hill not to far away. A flash of bright light engulfed the area. 'Ah, there are our friends know," says Halindir.

A small band of orcs, maybe a score strong, run down the hill at the elves' horses. Before they even get within twenty feet of them fiv are killed by arrows and another ten are killed by a bolt of lightning which was undoubtably conjured by Arelas. The last five turned and tried to flee but where taken down by arrows. "Well done," says Arelas. "Lets head back to Elrond with our report," says Halindir.

[Tirithel]

She started down the street with a hop and slipped quietly between two hills into the trees behind them. As she picked a path through the ever-thickening undergrowth, Tirithel began to listen to the whispers of the trees. They were young and of many varieties; birch and oak, maple and fur, spruce and ash. Yet for their young age, Tirithel could not help but marvel at their enormous size. They looked to have been standing there for millenia, as had the trees in Valinor, but in her ears she heard that most had been planted only at the end of the third age by hobbitsof the area. One in particular had brought some kind of magic to spur them along; something elvish, of which they had not seen the likes of since.

Suddenly it became apparent to Tirithel that she was probably the first elf to walk these woods, and with the light of Tirion still in her eyes, she must be quite a fascination. The trees continued to whisper fondly in her ear, making a sort of silent music she found comforting and familiar in the shock of this new world. She looked up, and the moon pricked beams of light through the canopy, dappling the ground with a soft radiance, and every once in a while a star would peep through, smiling at her in its sparkle. The wind hushed its way through leaves and stirred sleepy branches as a few lonely doves cooed softly in their nests. She continued to wander deeper and deeper into the wood when finally she burst into a clearing, high up on a hill. The moon shone uncaged down on her and the stars burned in the sky, and though the air was cool, Tirithel felt a kind of warmth standing there, in the sight of all.

The trees continued to sing around her and the wind to hush, and silently Tirithel was reminded of home. The stars she loved back home were much the same as these here, and the trees had voices as did the forests of her birthland. She thought of the stories of the trees and realized solemnly that they were loved by these hobbits as she had cherished her forests back home; that Middle Earth was not just a setting of FairyTales but the living home of many creatures. She sank to her knees, leaned to the side, and steadied herself on her hand. A numb pain shot up through her arm, and she looked down at the bandage across her knuckles.

Turning her hand over, she examined the cut with new eyes. It still pinched a bit, but the tending was tidy, and only a small spot of dry blood could be seen where it had seeped through the linen. Will had done a good job. Curiously, Tirithel unwound the bandage and stared at her hand. What once had been a deep gash had reduced itself to a mere papercut across her palm, and the pain seemed to lessen by the moment.

The moon glimmered down on the hill wrapping her with tender light and Tirithel again thought of home. Home. This was part of somebody else's home, and with new resolve she stood to head back to the inn. Not a fairytale, but a home. The words echoed through her mind as she wandered back into to the trees, still quietly swaying in the wind.

I must speak with Authwen.

[Elvenwanderer]

Even though she was sitting with her friends Legolas and Ithilraen, Authwen did not feel at ease. Her mind was racing about whether she had said the right thing to Tirithel. Whether or not she had been too harsh. Suddenly, Authwen felt the urge to go outside into the calm moonlight. She excused herself, and immediately the rest of the elves in the tavern stood up. Not until she had shut the door behind her, did the elves again take their seats.

That was exactly how she did not want things to be. Authwen did not want to be treated any differently than young Tirithel, which was partially the reason she had gotten angry.

Authwen was jealous, a feeling not well known to her, or to any of her kindred. Tirithel was young enough not to have the "Wisdom" of the ages. What great intelligence had over seven thousand years of life gotten Authwen? Numbers larger than she felt like counting, and a lifetime of mistakes.

<Perhaps I was rude to her because I do not want someone with so much promise to turn out the way I did? Maybe, if I was mean, then the point would come across easier?> she thought. She had to talk to this she-elf.

The Queen leaned on the shingles of the gray building, and stared at the moon through the trees. Pain, coupled with remembrance came into her eyes. They shut as they gave into the pain. She slumped down and clenched her fists and jaws in the sudden pain....

Authwen automatically straightened up as she heard footsteps through the forest. She stared into the darkness.

[Tirithel]

Tirithel took her time on the way back to the inn. She tickled overhanging leaves with her fingers and tenderly brushed the trunks of trees. She softly whistled to birds in their nests and gingerly caressed flower petals. Everything seemed so full of life; it was a feeling that she was sure she had left at home across the sea, amidst the familiar stars and sea air. Slowly the trees revealed their hearts to her and in the like of elves, she began to love them. Her chest expanded deeper with every breath and the veil of sorrow melted from her eyes. Yes, this could be a home.

Her happiness was abruptly put on hold as the lights of the town came back into view through the trees. Off to the west, faint cries could be heard; the harsh screeching of orcs as those that had raided the town earlier, and bows twanged dimly in her ears. Tirithel suddenly remembered the fear that had pierced her heart when she stepped off the boat and the danger surrounding this land. She broke into a run and burst back into the streets of the town, the comfort of the woods bluntly replaced with a sense of dire urgency. Tirithel gave one last look to the forest before she almost bowled over Authwen, who stood motionless at the doorway of the tavern.

"Authwen!" she rasped, breathing hard from her little sprint, leaning over on her knees. "Orcs! Over there! A fight! I heard..." Amid her raving she noticed tears in the elf's eyes, and the memory of her past grievance struck her suddenly dumb. She stood up straight and calmed herself, quieting her breathing and slowing her speech. "M'Lady, I am sorry about before- I meant not to offend you so. My words had no merit or meaning- I was angry and did not know who I was talking to, and I do beg your forgiveness. I would like nothing better than to sit down and have a good long apology with you, but right now, as sorry as I may be, it seems there may be more important matters to attend to..."

As she spoke, a crash of lightning shattered the night air and Tirithel jerked around in shock.

[Elvenwanderer]

Authwen barely recognized who this was, as she was so far gone in her painful delirium. Had she stayed much longer, she might not have been able to control her actions. Her Queenyness shook her head vigorously, and slapped her face to bring herself back to normal reality. She saw the thin form of Tirithel in the disappearing moonlight, and more clearly in the ensuing lightning. Authwen placed her hand calmly on the she-elf’s shoulder.

“I agree; apologies from both parties can wait for later. I told you not to think of me as a title, and that’s how I want it to remain. Now, it seems that the ‘privileged nobility’ have no idea about what’s going on, so the two of us are just going to have to take care of them ourselves, with a bit of help from Halindir.” She said, then ran into the trees.

Tirithel stood in protest, thinking that they should get help from inside.

Authwen looked somewhat annoyed, and turned to grab the she-elf’s arm. “If you’re thinking that I need help taking care of myself, you’re wrong. I just spent some thousand years alone, wandering Middle-earth, and namely killing what orcs were left after the third age. I doubt that I need a bunch of battle-weary ninnies following me now." She said matter-of-factly. "Come on!” Authwen ran back into the forest dragging the she-elf’s arm with her.

[Tirithel]

Tirithel lagged in protest, her glances given rather to the blurred figures within the bar rather than to the tree-roots she was stumbling over. When the inn was finally out of sight, she turned forward, and began to run with the tall she-elf in frontof her rather than be dragged along by her. Trees whooshed by her in wonderment and fear and no longer had she time to stop and muse on their tales.

They had trekked far into the wood when the cries faded into nothing and the twanging of the bowstrings stopped. Authwen halted abruptly.

"Maybe it is over," Tirithel whispered.

[Halindir]

As Arelas and Halindir ride back to the tavern they each notice an earie silence that befell the land. No night birds calling and no signs of any animals. "Somethings afoot," says Halindir, " We should continue to scout the area." Circleing around north of the hill with the deserted fortress on it they see and hear nothing.
"We should head back to Elrond and set back out with more of our kin to search the countryside quicker," says Arelas. "Agreed," responds Halindir.
Upon arriving back at the tavern they go immediately to Elrond and make their report. "Yes, we need to scout the countryside for more of the yrch," says Elrond after hearing the report. "Halindir, you take two score of our troops with you and Arelas to scout the area."
"Yes you lordship," Halindir and Arelas answer.

[Tirithel]

Both elves watched warily the silently swaying branches above them, as if expecting an attack from the air. The trees had stopped whispering all together now, and in hushed anticipation stood silent amidst the darkness. A staunch fear hung in the air, and it crept through the she-elves' skin and pushed their senses to full alert. Eyes wide open and ears straining for any sound, they quieted even their breathing to match the silence and waited...

"Authwen," Tirithel whispered, "Authwen!" She poked her companion in the back, waiting for a reply.

[Olorin]

Gandalf sat with Elrong and Galadriel and as they discussed the recent events a vision rushed up to him.

- He was falling grsping on to the demon of fire, Durin's Bane, Glamdring, ever faithful in his hand. He drove the sword into where ever he could, it's face it's arm. He stabbed it hand it let go Gandalf fell forward and reached for it's face. The Balrog back handed him into the side of the cavern wall, the rocks tore at his back ripping the flesh. The Balrog got away from him but as the distance between them grew Gandalf grabbed it's tail. Durin's Bane slashed about, slamming his tail into the chasm's walls cushing Gandlaf's arm and leg and ribs, but he held on. -

Galdadriel saw that Gandalf was in a painful vision and grabbed his hand, suddenly a shadow passed through her body and the light in her hair dimmed. She pulled a way and gasped breathing in the air as light flowed back through her body. She looked shocked and scared. Gandalf snapped out of it with the same expression on his face, all at the table looked at them with concerned questioning glances. Gandalf looked at Galadriel. "We must go NOW" Gandalf struggled up from his seat.

"wait" said Galadriel as she reached toward him.

Gandalf fell to the floor and yelled in pain, all stopped celebrating and looked at him. Galadriel picked him up and looked at him. His bright white beared was no longer bright and grey strands of hair seemed to grow right before her eyes. He stared at her for a moment and still looking at her but addressing the entire room yelled "Mount Up!"

[Elvenwanderer]

ooc: welcome back Olorin! :):)

ic: Authwen wasn't hearing Tirithel, she didn't even feel her back being poked. Authwen's eyes were unfocused, and her mouth hung wide open. She had, in all effect, frozen in place.

She was in another vision again, but was still in a forest. It was dark, and then there was a bright flash of colored light, like pink lightning. A body lay limp on the ground. Many bent over figures moved around the body, poking and prodding it, and suddenly, the body moved slightly. The craning figures picked up the body, and carried it out of her sight.

Authwen fell backwards, and almost caused Tirithel to fall over with her. Automatically, Authwen's hand reached up and waved it in the air as she fell. Shocked, Tirithel caught on and grabbed Authwen's hand, and pulled her standing again.

Authwen came back to her senses, and made a few words come out of her mouth. "Thank you Tirithel. I'm sorry, what did you say?" She unsuccessfully tried to make it no major thing that she had frozen like that.

Tirithel gave Authwen a strange look as she was held by the Queen's strong, but trembling hand.

"Are you all right?" She chanced to whisper. A change had come over her friend, and Tirithel sensed it strongly.

"I'm sorry, I believe that I have led you out here for no good reason... we need to go back... something tells me the scenery is changing." Authwen replied, she now felt somewhat embarrassed, and very stupid for making Tirithel run into the woods for no reason. "Do you have a horse? You will need one... for we will travel a long way..." Authwen let out a high pitched whistle, then a low pitched whistle, followed by a shrill whinny (she had long spoken the language of the horses). "You will ride with me back to the stables. 'Tis faster than walking, or running, for that matter."

A grey mare suddenly burst through the trees, and went close to Authwen, who rubbed her large head. "Rundinîel, my friend of long and old. Will you please carry my weight, as well as that of this she-elf?"

The horse bobbed her head, and Authwen sprang up. Authwen motioned, and Tirithel jumped up after her.

"Please try not to hit any branches..." Tirithel muttered. And they were off at a gallop back in the direction of the tavern.

[Tirithel]

Rudiniel flew through the trees with ludicrous speed. Tirithel clung tightly to Authwen and prayed that the horse would keep its feet despite the tricky roots and underbrush of the forest. The horse did not falter, and brought them safely and quickly back to the inn, where they found everyone preparing for travel.

Horses stirred in the street, and tack rattled with clamor. The company was setting forth again. Gandalf, Galadriel and their like waited impatiently for the rest to get saddled at the end of the road, leading out of town.

Rudiniel halted in front of the in, and Tirithel slid uncomfortably off of his slender back.

"You do have a horse, don't you?" Authwen questioned. She was ready to invite Tirithel to ride with her atop Rudiniel, but Tirithel only nodded.

"Thank you for the ride." She still felt that there was much to be said between them. "Go and wait with Gandalf at the front. I shall catch up with you in a moment." With a quick, amiable smile she turned and darted to the stables where the horses had been housed.

Alone amid the darkness (all the lamps had been taken or extinguished) stood a huge white-grey stallion, pacing restlessly in his stall. His feet were near the size of dinner plates and his withers rose nigh over the heads of elves. Bred of war and full of power, his form towered over his lithe, fleet-footed peers, but his eyes shone soft and kind, still filled with the ageless spirit of youth in deathless lands. Thus stood Maethor, the war horse of Valinor, immortal descendant of Nahar himself.

Since the Return of the Noldor to Aman, such horses were bred solely to preserve the bloodline, as war had been a mere legend in the Blessed Realm for ages. Maethor had been a gift to Tirithel from her Grandfather long ago, a man with a keen eye for horses and well versed in the language of the equestrian. Though horse and rider first seemed at opposite ends of the spectrum, they fast became friends, and roamed the plains and hills of Valinor at leisure.

Tirithel's footsteps through the stable were light as elves could make them, but Maethor heard her anyway and whinnied at her coming. He stomped anxiously in his stall as Tirithel opened the gate and led him out, stroking his nose and whispering friendly words to him. She slipped his light bridle on (he wore no saddle) and secured her own pack to her shoulders. Outside the barn, she leapt to his back and hurried to the assembling company of elves, scouting for Authwen amidst the turmoil.

[Halindir]

Halindir and Arelas ride off into the distance. Scouting the countryside in preperation for the army's advance. Seeing nothing notable they return to Elrond with their report and join in the procession.

[Tirithel]

Tirithel spotted Authwen near the front of the caravan, talking to some stange elves she had never seen before. None the less, she was mingled with royalty, and Tirithel was none too eager to get herself caught in that crowd. As Maethor slowly made his way through the crowd, Gandalf caught her eye and gave her a slight wink from far ahead; she smiled grimly in return.

[Elvenwanderer]

"Legolas... Ithilraen... I'm sorry I left earlier. Excuse me." Authwen said to her friends as they headed off.

"It's all right." Legolas said. He chanced a look into her eyes, and saw much more pain in them than earlier. Legolas looked back over at Ithilraen, and spoke something to her. Authwen decided not to hear them (she had the power to "tap in" on any elf's mental conversation).

Instead, the Queen looked back in the ranks, and was visibly surprised by the horse Maethor. He was massive... much larger than her mare Rundiniel. She managed to wave Tirithel forward, giving her permission to ride with the "priviledged nobility."

Authwen looked over at her father, and smiled. No matter what had happened so far, she was glad the Elves had returned. Elrond returned the smile, and leaned over to put his arm around her shoulder in a quick hug. Authwen did not know how much she might regret that thought in the coming weeks.

[Tirithel]

Tirithel took her signal and steered Maethor towards the front of the caravan. Spaced out and still intent on making some apologies, she hardly noticed the small voice calling out to her from the ground.

"Off to war?" Will stood at her horse's shoulder, and Maethor halted when the hobbit spoke. He grinned softly up at her as he patted the horse's nose, lowered now within his reach.

Tirithel smiled in return. "I don't really know. Perhaps." Her speech halted abruptly as she ran out of words. "Um," she stuttered, "Thank you, for, um, my hand..."

"No worries, my dear! No thanks necessary," she looked emptily at him, still absent of words. "Safe journey, Tirithel. Middle Earth may not be the light of Tirion, but it is a home none the less, and you have my gratitude for your efforts. There are strange days ahead of you, but have faith! Where experience lacks, courage will suffice. Nai tiruvantel varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya. Namarie!"

She sat in shock at the old hobbit's Elvish words as he smiled up at her one last time and walked away. She watched him disappear into the crowds of onlookers gathering on the street corners giggling to herself and shaking her head. "Namarie, Will."

With that she gave a slight click to Maethor and proceeded to the head of the line. Her spirits were lighter and her face more friendly as she pulled up beside Authwen and looked down at her, grinning.

[Elvenwanderer]

"What makes you so happy of a sudden?" Authwen asked as she looked up at Tirithel. Authwen smiled as she looked between her father, Elrond and Tirithel. "Tirithel, am I correct in saying you have met my father?"

Elrond nodded his head in greeting.

[Tirithel]

"Suddenly I do not feel so out of place." Tirithel replied as she smiled brightly at Authwen, who seemed a tad bewildered. Then, as if in a completely different state of mind, she turned her head to Elrond, and bowed her head in the shyest of reverence.

In a quiet but not ungracious voice, she said, "Greetings, Lord. I am most honoured to make your acquaintance."

[Elvenwanderer]

"The honour is mine." Elrond replied, placing his hand to his chest, then gesturing at her. He mentally spoke to Authwen. "She does not seem to be as outlandish as Gandalf explained."

The Queen did not move, nor make any visible sign of reaction. Suddenly, she turned her head, "Ada, will you excuse us a moment?"

"Of course." Elrond steered his horse so that he could talk with Galadriel and Celborn about exactly where they were planning on going, Rivendell was almost destroyed, and the status of the other two realms....

The younger of the she-elves began to fidget a bit on Maethor's back.

"Tirithel, I'm sorry about the little misunderstanding we had earlier. It was mostly my fault, I should not have said those things so severly." Authwen said, quickly. Very rarely in her long lifetime, did she apologize to anyone, and now she was embarrassed, and quiet.

[Tirithel]

"No I should be the one apologizing- I had no right to insult anything of this land, least of all you. I am grateful for your discretion in the matter, however."

An awkward moment of silence passed between them, and Tirithel felt she had much more to say, but the words wouldn not come. But another thought crossed her mind.

"Authwen, back there in the woods...what happened to you? I've not seen anything of that sort for, well, for as long as i can remember. Are you all right?"

[Elvenwanderer]

The happy look that was on Authwen's face quickly disappeared. She closed her eyes, and shook her head, as if trying to clear away bad memories. "I do not expect you to fully understand. But, my whole life I have had visions of both the past and future. They have been growing worse. I have never reacted well to them. What you saw back there was a normal, if not light reaction."

Tirithel looked at her friend, who seemed to have grown old in a matter of seconds.

"I know what you must be thinking, Tirithel. No, I don't mind telling you, it is actually better that you do know about that." Authwen continued, half to herself. The Queen turned her head to look up at Tirithel, her eyes full of pain and tears. Suddenly, she smiled. "Excuse me, please, Tirithel. I would like to be alone for a while."

Authwen clicked, and Rundiniel cantered off ahead, and they turned behind a large boulder. When the rest of the party reached the rock, Authwen was nowhere to be seen, and neither was the horse, they had completely disappeared.

[Tirithel]

Tirthel was puzzled but did not question the actions of her friend. Seers, she had been told, were sometimes strange and full of their own motives. Concerned but not worried, she sought out Gandalf in the front of the van. Authwen would be all right; she would tell me whatever I needed to know.

[Tirithel]

Elves eyed her up and down as Maethor parted the sea of horses and strode to the front. Though she had long lived in Aman as their neighbor, being a native to the Blessed Realm and not one simply returning to it, she had never really mingled among them, and few knew who she was, or why she was with them.

"Gandalf!" she cried, trotting to his side and happy to see his familiar face among so many doubters.

"Tirithel, hello!" he said, turning from his present conversation to gaze at the young face beside him. "You appear no worse for wear! Tell me, how does Middle Eart suit your liking? Being not of it, after all." He looked deep into her eyes, studying her face and taking on the thoughtful, fatherly expression she had some to associate with him and grown to love.

Tirithel poured her little heart out. She told him of the ship she rode in, and her encounter at the inn with the orc whose head she had taken and sword she had stolen. She told of the first battle and the dagger the King had given her, and of Will the hobbit and the voices in the trees and what they had whispered in her ears. Lastly, she told of Authwen, the strange Elven Queen who knew not the land of Aman and of all that had befallen them. At this, the old wizard's brow furled and his lips came to a purse.

"So, you have met Randiriel. Aye, she is a strange elf, one of the few that kept Middle Earth as home at the end of the Third age." SIlence took him for a moment and Tirithel studied his face as he thought. "None the less, she is a queen, and mighty among the wise and the warriors. Stay close by her, Tirithel, for if she has befriended you, it is not without purpose. You may learn much from her in these next few days."

"Ah, already I have strayed from your council, *ada," she giggled, "for Authwen vanished from the caravan a few minutes ago, and I know not where she went. Of course, I don't even know where we are going."

At this, Gandalf's cheerful expression faded to a grim frown, and his eyes strayed to the road ahead. "It shall be reavealed to all all too soon, I'm afraid."

Tirithel sensed his oppressed sadness and quickly changed the subject. "So, who are all these elves? Tell me a tale of their days in Middle Earth, before the War of the RIng."

The caravan wandered down the road, and Gandalf and Tirithel became lost in their own conversation, as he told her the tales of Beleriand and it's realms once again, as if she'd never heard them before. The only difference now being that she was in the company of those who'd wrought the mighty deeds of old, and they all looked with wonder on the unknown young elf Gandalf spoke so fondly to...

OOC-*Check OOC thread for explaination! :)

[Ithilraen]

Ithilraen and Legolas waited till the caravan passed them. they wanted to be at the back of the caravan so that they might have a chance to talk amongst themselves without being overheard. When they were finally alone Legolas spoke.

" There is something evil brewing here in middle earth. I have never felt a darkness like this. I am worried about Authwen. I have never seen a vision affect her like that. She's strong, you know, but I can tell when something is bothering her."

Ithilraen reached over and clasped his hands. Legolas looked at her and smiled.

"My love, Authwen has been living longer than you and I put together. I worry for her too. She is everything you told me of her. But do not trouble your heart, she can take care of herself. As for the darkness you feel, it clouds my mind too. I do not like it. It gives the land an uneasy feel."

Legolas nodded in agreement and kissed her hand. He then looked up as Tirithel galloped by on her horse, and stopped to ride alongside Gandalf.

" I like her, she's a good fighter, doesn't give up. I never got a chance to talk to her though." Legolas looked after Tirithel thoughtfully. " I hear things from other elves, but I never believe something until i see it. I do see that Authwen and her have become fast friends, and I always trust Authwen's judgement."

Ithilraen scanned the caravan. "Legolas, where is Authwen?"

Legolas craned his neck and scanned the caravan too. " I don't know my love. I think i saw her going ahead of the caravan and behind that boulder. She might have another vision or needs some time to think. Do not worry, she'll be fine."

Ithilraen nodded and smiled at Legolas. They stopped talking outloud and began a mental conversation that had nothing to do with what was going on.

[Olorin]

The sun rose on the horizan as they reached Amon Sul, Gandalf had a grave look on his face. "We are here."
Galadriel took out a small crystal. "It is time." Gandalf, and Galadriel went to the top of Amon Sul by them selves. Gandalf drew Glamdring and looked around. Galadriel went to the center of the ring, and scraped away the dead leaves and the moss. There was an ancient rune.
"Here it is", she said,
Gandalf went over grasped the stone slab that the rune was written on and flipped it over. there was a silver plate under it with a hole in it, about the size of a Palantir, Galdriel place the stone in the hole.
It projected an image high in the air so the entir company could see.

Grima Wormtounge, leaping through the air, slitting the throught of Saruman, his body fell to the ground, his essence flew away, but his blood stained the earth. Time passed rapidly before their eyes, and a man came and scooped the soil into a bag. And carried it away.
The image dissapeared.
Suddenly, cries went up from the forest all around them , cloacked figures, hundreds came from the darkness of the forest around them, wraiths.
Galadriel drew her sword and Gandalf and her ran down the hill to confront them.

[Ithilraen]

Ithilraen looked up at the image that was projected above them. She already had many questions, and seeing this just added to them. Why had the man saved the blood-stained soil?

Legolas' voice drifted into her mind "To bring him back...this is not good."

She was about to reply when hundreds of wraith cries erupted from the forest around them. She wheeled her horse around and drew out her sword. She along with the other elves who drew out thier weapons might as well not have. For thier weapons were useless against them. Ithilraen has never heard of anyone killing a wraith with an ordinary weapon, save Eowyn, the shield-maiden of Rohan.

[Tirithel]

Maethor's head jerked up and he began to sniff the air uneasily. Tirithel looked wildly around and at the sounds of shrieking coming from the trees, drew the Numenorean dagger of the king. A ruby shone and glittered on its hilt and Tirithel's heart began to pound.

"Those do not sound like orcs..."

[Halindir]

Halindir, upon seeing the wraiths, calls to Arelas to build a large fire. While Arelas builds the fire Halindir shouts to the rest of the company to start shooting fire arrows at the wraiths. "That should stop them long enough for us to escape," he reasons aloud.

[Elvenwanderer]

Far in the distance Authwen heard the cries of the Wraiths. She shook her head sadly and looked into the sympathetic yet fearful eyes of her horse. Authwen hopped again onto Rundinîel's back, and gallopped in the direction of Weathertop... at least half an hour away.

[Tirithel]

Shrill screams pierced her ears and Tirithel shuddered. "What are they?" she questioned an elf who stood by.

"Ringwraiths. Undead ghosts of great men of old. They are impossible to kill, and fear almost nothing but fire." Tirithel looked into the tall elf's brave face, her own full of fear but slowly hardening. With a deep breath, she lept from Maethor's back and ran towards the fire the others had started. Standing at the edge, she thrust her hand in and quickly pulled out a long flaming brand.

Swinging her dagger in one hand and the torch in the other, she stared into the darkness behind the company as sinister shadows crept ever closer to the fire light.

Finally it happened. In the moment of a deafening shriek, a cloaked figure leapt forward and the battle began. The light of Aman blazed forth in Tirithel's eyes and with a couragous cry she strode forward to meet her foe. Others had snuck forward from the trees and started in on the rest of the company.

[Olorin]

OOC: they are not ringwraiths, (the ring has been destroyed)

IC: Gandalf ran forward, flames leaping from the tip Glamdring. Wraiths running from the light and fire which spilled from his presence. suddenly a memory as real as life came rushing back to him.

He was surrounded by cold water, it filled his lungs and eyes, green algea clinging to his clothes but he still grasped his enemy. The Balrog thrashed about, Gandalf lost his grip because the creature was now of slim and he could no longer hold on. He looked up into the darkness, for the Balrogs flame was diminished. He held his hand in the air and light filled his cupped hand. There he stood, his form no longer hidden by flame, and more horrible then ever.

"Durin's Bane, I, Olorin, was sent by Manwe to defeat the evil of you and your master and that is what I intend to do." He thust his hand forward. The light took flight, and smashed into his enemy, throwing it across the lake. Gandalf ran forward at an incredible speed, lept onto the Balrog's face and began to hack at it with Glamdring. The Balrog lept up with a jolt, throwing Gandalf into the cavern's wall.

Gandalf, his body brocken and torn, He stood. No light entered those cursed depths, but Gandalf heard the beast running into the unkown caverns of forgotten times. So he persued him, into the darkness.

Galadriel ran up to Gandalf a torch in her hand.
"Mithrandir, Mithrandir" Gandalf gave no reply. But bags formed under his eyes and his hair began to turn grey.
"Mithrandir!"

[Tirithel]

OOC: Oh duh! *Smacks forehead* I shoulda known that! Sorry!

IC: Screams and cries shattered the serentity of the dark as elves and ghosts fought bitterly into the night. Shriek for scream, shout for cry, Tirithel matched her enemies, and soon she found herself lost in the lyrics of a hymn to Elbereth, picking and choosing words like impromptu weapons.

Elbereth!

Gilthoniel!

They seemed to do as much or more good than even her flaming stick, which now had burned rather short and Tirithel was slowly working back towards the fire to pluck out a new one. Peeking over her shoulder to catch her bearings, she glimpsed who could only be Galadriel standing next to Gandalf.

Her expression dropped as the wizard seemed to shrink and his hair began to change colors. "What in the world...?" she thought.

[Elvenwanderer]

As the elves were either losing or fleeing, Authwen could not tell which, she came upon the battle between the wraiths and elves. She drew her sword and it lit into a blue flame as she blew on it. Rundiniel charged on towards the bonfire, and Authwen sliced through Wraiths as they went.

Authwen found her friend Tirithel standing near Galadriel and Gandalf and edging towards the fire to get a torch. The Wizard himself did not seem well, but Authwen was too preoccupied to care any more about him now.

Authwen pointed at Tirithel's drawn dagger, and a jet of flames shot from the palm of the Queen's left hand to ignite on the Numenorean sword. Much to Tirithel's surprise, the sword kept 'burning.'

"You did not honestly think I would leave all of you alone here, did you?" Authwen said almost casually as she sliced clean through the center of a Wraith with her flaming sword.

[Tirithel]

Tirithel continued slashing through what seemed to be empty robes, but for all of her and her companion's ferocity, the shadows kept pouring out of the trees.

"We've got to get out of here!" she cried to Authwen. Galadriel stood nearby, circling Gandalf and fending off wraiths with her sword. The combination of power and beauty made for a fearful sight, and the Lady's slim form circled like a flame around the immobilized wizard. But even she could not hold out forever, and Tirithel began to forbode what would happen if the company could not escape.

[Elvenwanderer]

Authwen fought her way over next to Galadriel and Gandalf, and she wondered what was happening to the Wizard.

"Galadriel, Wraiths cannot cross water," she yelled. "I have a dwelling between the Rivers Mitheithel and Bruinen. If we could gather horses, we could ride there.... the Wraiths could not follow.... we would also be safe from other foes, as I have more protection on that house than any other thing, and the barriers at not all visible."

Galadriel looked over at Authwen, and seemed to think for a moment while Authwen slashed at many of the Wraiths around them. They just didn't stop coming.

"This evil was hidden from me..." Authwen muttered between Wraiths.

(I'm just trying to get this RP going again, if Olorin wants to change the destination, that's just peachy!:):))

[Tirithel]

Sword still ablaze, Tirithel listened into Authwen's offer.

"Sounds good!" She gave a high-pitched cry, and Maethor came stomping through the turmoil, kicking and screaming as he went. Tirithel grabbed ahold of his withers and swung up onto his back. "Give me Gandalf! Maethor can bear him with me..."

Authwen looked to her and gave a sullen nod. The elven queen stooped, and as Galadriel fought off the continuing onslaught of ghosts, Gandalf was flung over the mighty horse's back in front of Tirithel. "I will take him to safety across the River. Ride behind me and meet me there, for I am still unsure of the exact place of your dwelling."

Another nod, and Tirithel spurred Maethor around and took off through the battle, fending off ghostly blows, and chased into the darkness by still more evil spirits.

[Elvenwanderer]

Authwen looked about and saw not her father or her friends Legolas and Ithilraen. Going around to Rundiniel on the opposite side of Amon Sûl, she found the faithful grey mare with five other horses.

Authwen spoke to the five horses after she jumped onto a brown stallion's back. "Find Elrond, Galadriel, Legolas, Ithilraen and King Aranora. Rundiniel will lead you back to my home. Hurry!"

Authwen sped off to find Maethor and Tirithel up ahead. The poor, already tired, brown stallion found it hard to keep pace with the Great Maethor, and soon slowed in his gallop. Authwen leaned forward and whispered magically-spiked words of encouragement and the horse 'found' new energy.

"Tirithel!" Authwen called when Celeg (the horse) neared Maethor. "About five miles to the south-east you will find a river, the River Mitheithel (Hoarwell). Do not try to cross it, no matter what. Wait for me there, I will find you and lower the barriers on the house. I must wait for the others...."

(OOC: I squished the distance a bit... it's really about 150 miles longer than that, but umm. Yeah...)

[Ithilraen]

Legolas and Ithilraen stood back to back. The wraiths were closing in. Ithilraen swung a torch at the encroaching wraiths when two horses ran through the wraiths. Leoglas and Ithilraen gratefully climbed on thier backs and rode away, letting the horses lead them.

"Where did all the wraiths come from?" Ithilraen mentally asked Legolas.

Legolas shook his head, " I do not know my love. My question is, how did they find us?"

[Tirithel]

OOC: yeah well my horse of Valinor gets pretty speedy as such, so it's no biggie ;)

Tirithel looked over her shoulder and nodded to Authwen, who slowed her horse and began to wait for the others. With a light rein, she veered Maethor off to her right, steering for the River Hoarwell, Gandalf still slumped over his back. As the night around her grew more quiet and the air more peaceful, a cold shudder and a hopeless thought spread through her body: without horses, how would the others escape?

The wraiths were too fast and too numerous to outrun on foot, not to mention the 150 mile span that lay between where the battle was fought and Authwen's retreat. How Authwen had caught up with her alone, Tirithel could not figure out. Grim realization overcame her as the River sped into view: many of the company would not make it there alive.

[Elvenwanderer]

Authwen saw two mounted figures coming through the darkness. Legolas and Ithilraen rode up to her, and the horses stopped before her.

"Tirithel is up ahead with Gandalf... he is not well. I have a house between the Rivers Hoarwell and Bruinen; about five miles southeast from here. Legolas, I think you were there before. Find Tirithel and wait with her and the Wizard. I will follow as soon as I find the king, my father and grandparents. Do not try to enter the house... but wait for me."`

[Olorin]

Galdariel and the other leaders rode up beside Gandalf. Galadriel put her hand on Gandalf's forehead.

Gandalf, chasing Durnin's Bane up a grand stair case began to feel his world collapsing around him, reallity shredding through his mind.

He suddenly became aware of what was going on around him.

"Mithrandir" said Galadriel, "can you hear me"

The old wizard whispered "yes"

"What are these wraiths, where did they come from"

The wizard began to fall a sleep

"MITHRANDIR! WHAT ARE THEY!!!!"

"wraiths...... saruman"

"Saruman what?!"
Galadriel was yelling to get through to the wizard
"dead armies....... Uruk-hai"

Galadriel turned to Aranora, "during the war of the ring the traitor Istari Saruman bred a hybrid race of Uruks called Uruk-Hai."

Aranora replied "These 'Uruk-Hai' must have been resurrected"

Gandalf began to slip away again.
"No", said Galdriel "NO!" she then turned to the others "I'm afaid if he slips away again he could die" "WAKE UP MITHRANDIR!"

"i am here" "......what talk is this....." ".....fly you fools"

Aranora leaned forward "What did he say?"

"He is dilerious"

[Brin]

She was riding east on the road from Bree and enjoying a quiet ride. While she was in Bree, she had learned the town had been under attack. She sighed at the state of the world today. Orcs were getting so bold, there was no place safe. She didn't know who was stirring the evil up once again, but she was determined to find out.

Her buckskin stallion, Morwinyon was begging her to let him have his head so he could go for an all out run. She patted his neck soothingly, and almost complied, but from atop one of the Weather Hills she noticed a large fire burning. After studying the site, she decided it must be weathertop. She decide to ride a bit closer and investigate. There had just been a recent orc raid in the town, and she feared someone may be under attack on the mountain.

Just as she had reached the foot of Weather Top, she could see some riders galloping down the mountain, and heading towards the River Hoarwell. She gently nudged her horse to follow after them, curious to who they were, and wondering if anyone was pursuing them. In the darkness, she strove to catch up to them. She could hear voices, but she could not make out what they were saying, but one of the figures appeared to be slumped over on his horse.

As the river came into view, she managed to catch up to the mounted figures. She could see that the slumped figure was dressed in the robes of the Istari. She could see several other figures who could possibly be elves. She gasped in surprise, for she had thought there were few, if any elves left in Middle Earth.

"Hail travelers", she began. "I followed you from Weather Top. Has there been some trouble. Could you use some assistance. My name is Wren, and I am no stranger to the sword, I also have a bit of healing skills, and herb lore." She looked pointedly at the Istari, and asked, "How is he doing?"

[Elvenwanderer]

(so everybody's caught up now?)

"I am Authwen.... I believe I have heard of you Wren..." She looked up as a cry of pain came from an elf, and she winced. "Yes, we had some trouble... and we are headed for my home across the river... it is not safe here, we will try to explain later."

Authwen rode off and stopped by the River. She slowly dismounted, and Rundiniel backed away, the rest of the elves and horses taking the cue and also took a few steps back.

Authwen reached down, and caught a handful of water in her left hand, poured it over her right, and let it drop in the river again. She did this continually for a few seconds.

"You know me, Lord, I'm Authwen Randirel... my people are in need of help, we ask if you let us cross you to my home, Lord Mitheithel." She whispered looking around at the water. Nothing seemed to be happening, but suddenly, a bright flash of blue light erupted from Authwen's bracelet, causing her to be blown backwards away from the water. Authwen slid and stopped at Maethor's feet. The horse put his nose down to check if she was all right.

Authwen only pointed to a bridge of blue light that now spanned across the river. "Go... now."

[Tirithel]

Tirthel looked shocked but did as Dawn said; she was becoming slightly accustomed to the strange magic of this land. She gestured to Wren, who rode up beside her in Maethor's shadow, and they quickly trotted over the bridge.

Across the river and at the safety of its banks, they slowed to a walk. Tirithel looked at the travel-worn woman with wonder. Aside from Aranora and the hobbits, she had met no othe