|
Post by Stormrider on Jun 20, 2013 18:08:39 GMT -6
With out warning, Gollum grabbed the hems of DaleAnn’s and Stormrider’s pants legs and pulled hard trying to get them down. “Hsssssss, orcses on bridge.” He said diving for the cover of the broken rocks. The rest dived likewise. Andy peeked out above the rubble to see what the orcs were up to.
“Garnash, I heard sumthin’” said a scrawny orc with a bow. “It came from the udder side of the bridge.” He continued pointing. The other larger orc raised his hand over his brows and squinted to see the other side.
Suddenly there was an “eeeeeeeeeeeee” as a huge chunk of rock fell from the ceiling “bbbaaaaaaggggg aaaagggggnnnnn baaaaaggggg baagggnnnn” the rock sounded as it flew from the ceiling and banged against the walls into the abyss. Another one fell . . . “eeeeee, bbbaaaagggnnnn”
“Gharrr, fool. Its rocks fallin’. Back to the gate, maggot.” Said the larger orc who must have been a captain of sorts. The two turned and were soon gone.
“That was close. You and your squealing, Desi, and you shouting her name so loud, Stormrider.” DaleAnn whispered angrily. Stormrider and Desi looked sheepishly at each other. “And don’t you look so smug, Andy. The clang of that skillet certainly drew attention, too. Just lucky it hit a soft squishy head.” Andy’s smile faded. Gollum rubbed his head.
Whispering . . . “Okay, Gollum. Show us your other way now.” Urged DaleAnn. “And it better be good.” “Oh it isss, it isss, sssavesss lotsss of troublesss it doesss.”
Gollum looked over the rubble they hid in checking to be sure the orcs were gone, turned and led the group stealthily toward another southern doorway in the room they had been in. They all took great care not to make much noise as they followed. Gollum led them through a hall and into another room, another hall, and another room. The far exit to the last room was tumbled closed by more fallen bolders and rocks. However, there was a gaping hole in the room to the east that opened up to another chasm (part of the same chasm that the bridge spanned over).
Gollum skittered over to the edge beckoning them to follow and take a look. The group reached the edge and looked out into the deep dark chasm below. “How is this going to be any better?” asked Desi. “Nooo, Precious did not ssssayyy better, Precious sssaid very dangeroussss but other way out not crossssssing bridge.” They exchanged glances disappointedly.
“Looook” urged Gollum pointing up. Everyone followed the length of his arm to where he pointed. There was a huge tree beam across the chasm that went from this room over to a deep dark opening in the wall on the other side. “Throw rope over and ssswingss across one by one.”
“Well, it is worth a try, but tearing my goaty vest won’t make a long enough rope.” Andy commented while Stormrider was rummaging through her pack and pulled out a slender silken-grey rope that was coiled up very small. It didn’t look like it would be enough either. But as she prepared it to lasso a large branch that stuck out in the middle of the tree beam, the rope played out much longer than anyone would have guessed. She threw the rope once to gauge the distance which was just slightly short, rolled it back up, threw again, and it caught the branch securely. The end still in her hand, she knotted in several different places for hand and foot holds. “Who’s first?” she asked.
Desi and DaleAnn screwed their noses up and backed away from the edge. “For Iluvatar’s sake, I will go first, then Gollum, then whichever of you want to go after that.” Volunteered Andy. "I should be across before Gollum so he doesn’t try to run for it.”
“Precious, isss good, Precious wantsss hissss promised ring back from the Bagginses. “Preciouse will wait and keep hissss bargain.” Gollum’s eyes were large and he nodded his head vigorously.
Andy got a purchase on his end of the rope, pulled to be sure it was secure, stepped back a few paces, then launched himself off. He sailed through the air at the end of the rope and landed, plop right on the very edge, slipping a bit, but skittered onto firmer ground as stones slithered off the edge. He steadied himself and swung the rope back across, where DaleAnn grabbed hold of it. She was offering it to Gollum who reached for it but suddenly, “Hhhsssssss, that is evil rope! It burnssss ussss. Precious won’t crossss thissss way.” He cowered and licked at his hand.
Stormrider shrugged. “It is elven rope given to me by the stable elves of Rivendell. I showed them how to lasso and they made this for me in return.”
DaleAnn was trying to tie it around Gollum, who was hissing and fighting. Desi was watching Andy across the chasm as he looked on in dismay. “Yikes!” Desi shouted pointing at Andy. Everyone turned to look. Andy was still looking across but as they turned to look at him as they pointed at him, he shrugged. They were motioning for him to turn around, which he did quickly.
Behind him looming up on him were two huge insect-like multi-facited eyes. He reached into his bag and pulled out the heavy cast iron skillet and wielded another blow with as much strength as he could. The huge creature collapsed. Andy turned around and motioned for the rope and DaleAnn swung it back to him. He caught it and leaped off the edge and came flying back across.
Gollum was slinking away into darkness but Stormrider grabbed him around the neck before he could get away. “You best be good, or I will tie you up with this rope!” Gollum cringed as she rubbed the end of the rope Andy handed her and gave a slight tug. It came loose and she coiled it back up.
“Alright, enough tricks Gollum,” said Desi. “No ring for you now. We aren’t going into a tunnel with spiders in it.”
Gollum groveled on the ground. “Precious will be good. Precious will take you crossss nasty bridge. Not many but sssome sssmall hidey placessss on other ssside. Then we swoppses help for ring.”
“Okay, but let’s wait until we know The Fellowship is coming before we cross. We are safer on this side under the rocks and boulders than in Gollum’s ‘not many but some small hidey places’ if we can trust him.” Said DaleAnn doubtfully.
They headed back to their original hiding place and hunkered down together in the rocky hideout and covered themselves with their capes. They took turns keeping an eye on ‘that dratted’ Gollum. Except for their turn at guard, as they were starting to drift off to sleep . . .
Tom-tap, tap-tom, tom-tap, tap-tap, tom. DaleAnn’s eyes sprung open and she sat up. The others groaned from the disturbance.
“Wake up!” she whispered shaking them. “What?” they said sleepily.
“I just heard the hammer taps after Pippin let the stone fall into the well.” Everyone strained their ears, but the taps were not repeated.
“It should be another 22 hours or so before they reach Balin’s Tomb and the Chamber of Marzabul.”stated Stormrider.
“Then chaos breaks out!” added Desi.
“Let’s get some shut eye so’s we are all rested.” said Andy. Everyone looked at him and rolled their eyes. As if they could sleep much now! Andy who had stayed up the night before, rolled over and was soon snoring. Eventually, Stormrider stayed awake to watch Gollum and DaleAnn and Desi drifted off to sleep.
8 hours later when they awoke, it was depressingly quiet. They ate lembas and each had a good gulp of miruvor to sustain their energy. Gollum complained that he was wasting away and there was nothing for him to eat. It would still be awhile before The Fellowship reached Balin’s Tomb. They dared not use Desi’s cell phone light now. They had to stand up, stretch, and move about to keep their limbs from knotting up. The hours dragged on and on.
“I’m tired of sittin here.” Andy said. “I think we should cross dat stone bridge and get on the other side before Gandalf cracks it apart wid his staff.” He stalked off toward the bridge dragging a protesting Gollum with him. The girls exchanged quick glances. Andy had stepped out onto the bridge with Gollum and they were already several paces onto the bridge by the time the ladies arrived.
DaleAnn took a tentative step forward and looked over the edges on both sides. No water under this bridge as far as she could tell. Heat was coming up from below. If anything, it was fire and brimstone down there. She bucked up her posture and took a few more steps.
Desi followed next. She was shaky and hesitant but put one foot in front of the other and kept her eyes on DaleAnn’s straight figure in front of her.
Stormrider hesitated a long time. She couldn’t see anything but darkness yawning on either side of the narrow bridge. Andy, DaleAnn, and Desi were continuing on shakily but steadily. Stormrider closed her eyes and swallowed. She opened her eyes and put one foot forward and then the next. Then she looked down and froze.
Suddenly a BOOM came from the depths below. The bridge trembled. doom, doom, doom A great horn blew and it was answered by other horns, cries, and hurrying feet but they were way up behind the walls surrounding Balin’s Tomb and the Chamber of Marzabul.
Andy quickened his pace, DaleAnn collapsed on the bridge with her legs hanging over, Desi cringed and went down on all fours, Stormrider began to move forward stiffly but firmly with her eyes focused on her friends in front of her.
“No! No!” panicked DaleAnn. “Arrrgg! I can’t stand this! Get me up!” Desi was wailing, “The darkness is closing in around me! I feel caged! I gotta get outta here!”
Doom, doom, doom, orc laughter, the sound of arrows whizzing, a dazzling flash of light lit up the Chamber far above the quartet on the bridge. Wild drumbeats, doom, doom, doom.
Gollum plastered himself onto the bridge and wouldn’t move. Andy turned around and tried to get Gollum up but he couldn’t. He stomped across Gollum’s back and moved toward DaleAnn to help her back on her feet. Stormrider had moved quickly when she heard the battle above and had helped Desi up. Desi started sliding her feet forward one by one but was moving.
Andy turned around and Gollum was gone! While Andy was helping the ladies, Gollum’s feigned fear of the bridge fooled Andy and now he was gone. “Well, good riddance!” he thought.The four continued on as quickly as they could despite their phobias. Finally they were across the bridge and running frantically up the great stairs and down a wide passageway.
Sunlight beaming from the roof and high eastern windows of a hall blinded them as they entered it. Across the hall were huge broken doors. Andy, in the lead, herded his wimmin behind the doors. “We have ta hide hear til The Fellowship passes and they get rid of them orcs at the Great Gates.” There was no sign of Gollum anywhere so hey pulled their capes over themselves again.
They could hear the battle cries, booms, and orc shrieks from were they hid. There was a red light and they could hear the word “ghâsh” uttered by the orcs. Legolas’ shout, “A Balrog!” and Gimli’s curse, “Durin’s Bane” drifted up to them. The sounds of spears and scimitars clashing continued amidst the cries, shouts, and echoes of battle.
The red fiery light flashes grew brighter and they could dimly hear, “Over the bridge! Fly! This is a foe beyond any of you. I must hold the narrow way. Fly!” Then there was the sound of a whip cracking and the sounds of flames roaring up in anger. “You cannot pass.” Then there was silence. “I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass.”
The ring of a sword as it was drawn was heard and a flash of white fire. Another crack and hiss of the whip, Gandalf cried out as he smote the bridge. The four huddled behind the broken doors heard the crumbling of the bridge, the terrible cry of the Balrog, and “Fly you fools!”
After awhile, The Fellowship ran past them weeping. There were shouts of the orc guard at the Great Gates and a clash of steel, and the sound of orcs howling as they fled.
It was a long while before the four stirred from behind the broken doors. They stiffly stood and stretched. For once, they were speechless. Slowly and stealthily they crept up to the Great Gates and peared out. There were no orcs and the remaining members of The Fellowship had gone. They walked down the steps and into the Dimrill Dale.
* * *
|
|
|
Post by Desi Baggins on Jun 23, 2013 7:06:49 GMT -6
"Even knowing that Gandalf comes back as they White wizard, seeing him fall like that still makes me sad," Desi said and everyone shook their heads agreeingly.
“On a better note we can get moving and meet up with the horses on the road to Lothlorien,” commented Stormrider, “I can’t wait to be back in the saddle again.” DaleAnn rubbed her hinny and Andy groaned, but Desi smiled.
All of a sudden Desi is knocked to the ground and is being poked and pulled at, “Where issss itsss my presssciousss! I gotss you to safetysss and out the gate, come on Bagginsssess wheresss isss itsss?” prodded Gollum.
Everyone pulled Gollum off of Desi and she stood back up and straightened up her clothes. “Oh drats I had hoped you would have forgotten our Ring deal, but I should have known the power of it is too hard to ignore. Even now I find myself not wanting to give it up,” she said as she reached into her pocket pulling a ring out. Desi held the Ring up to her face and stared longingly at it.
“Givessss it to me, to ussss my presssiousss, a promisssesss isss a promisssesss.”
“I think I want to put It on one last time,” Desi said as she winked at Andy.
“Do you have something wrong with your eye? It keeps twitching.” Asked Andy
“No *cough cough* push me *cough cough* I just want to say goodbye to my Ring,” Desi said as she fake coughed her plan to Andy. And she started to bring her hand up to the Ring hoping understood.
Just as she was about to put it on Andy shoved Desi and yelled, “Noooo don’t do it!” The Ring went flying and fell down some rocks. Gollum took off after the Ring.
Desi stood there laughing while everyone else started gathering up their gear worrying about Gollum coming back when he realized he had been tricked.
“Let’s go!” cried DaleAnn.
Just as she said that you could hear Gollum in the distance, “Nooo! Presssiousss it tricksss usss! Those Bagginsssesss are rottenesss! Firstesss Bilbo with his pocketesss and now this girl and fakesss ringsss and notesss! Nowsss another Bagginsssesss to findesss! My friendsssess Aragorn, rottenesses to usss!”
“What is he carrying on about? A note?” asked Stormrider.
“While things were settling down after the Fellowship took care of the orcs at the gate, I pulled out my game board ring that was in my backpack and wrote a tiny note that said: Dearest Gollum: Wrong ring, wrong Baggins… you need the Baggins that left through the gate with your good friend Aragorn. Love always, The Girl Baggins
And I tied it to the ring with some thread from my travel sewing kit. I had to be very careful how I held the ring so Gollum couldn’t see the note attached.”
They all just laughed and laughed…
|
|
|
Post by fanuidhol on Jul 2, 2013 22:04:26 GMT -6
"I suppose we could wait by the Mirrormere for the horses and to let the Fellowship get more space between us. What do you think?" Stormrider eyed Andy who was deep in thought.
Andy pointed to the western side of the Mirrormere which shone silver, hiding its dark depth. Tall fir and slender silver birch clothed the nearby foothills. "If we that I think we ought to go around the west side of the lake and south to just about where it joins the path again. Hopefully, there will be cover with a view of the path there. I don't want to stay on the same road as Aragorn this close to Moria. He killed the Orc captain. They'll stay focused on him, if they come out at all. We'll have a chance to stay undetected." "We've got to be in sight of the horses!" Stormrider added.
As Andy and Stormrider talked, DaleAnn took Desi several paces away. She looked gravely at the Hobbit. "That was a very dangerous thing to do. Gollum could strangle you in your sleep at any time. There are times in the book when he disappears. We are going to have to be very vigilent in our nightime watches. I wish I had a bow and arrows. I might be able to keep you safe. Or have someone who could play music like Luthien did to Morgoth. That would do alot for our morale, too." "You might as well wish for a funny looking loremaster with a nice bear while you're at it," Andy quipped from where he stood with Stormrider, "Or how about a dwarf dressed like a tank." DaleAnn had forgotten that Hobbits have great hearing. "And yes, we do need to worry about Gollum's revenge. But, I'm sure he'll wait until we are closer to Mordor..."
Andy cocked his ears. "Wait, a minute...did you hear that? Sounds like Zonk's neigh-bray!" Andy exclaimed, in spite of his wish to look indifferent. The women looked around excitedly. But, to their dismay Zonk and his rider were alone when they appeared from behind a wooded hill.
Stormrider didn't wait for them to approach. She strode to them while the others waited where they were on a small rocky hillock. "Where are Storm and the other horses?!" the disappointed woman demanded. "Now, now. They are safe and sound with Shadowfax. Zonk here felt like a fifth wheel and since my Bunnies didn't feel like being insulted again, I thought he might like to come with me instead", Radagast said as he patted the zebron's neck affectionately. "They're coming up behind you though, right?" Stormrider asked. Radagast shook his head. "Not quite yet." By this time, they had joined the others. Radagast dismounted. Andy took the reins and snuck a treat to Zonk when he thought no one was looking. Everyone pretended not to notice, but smiled in spite of missing their own mounts.
The group picked their way single file along a deer path not far from the western shore of the Mirrormere. It was no longer silver, but midnight blue. Here and there, stars seemed to shine deep within its still water. The deer path weaved around small stone ruins, left by the long ago inhabitants of the area. They found a measure of safety in a grassy depression surrounded by a stone ruin and a dark green thicket about 100 yards west of the path to Lothlorien and just south of the tip of the lake. Radagast directed them to make camp.
After that work was done and Zonk was nibbling on the standing hay, all of them found a place to sit, near the center of the depression. "I know that my brother, Gandalf, is fighting an ancient evil. I can feel it within the earth. All I can do, I have already. The Lord of the Air will personally watch for signs of Gandalf with his keenest of eyes. Now, tell me how you fared in the dark." The somber wizard said, looking at each in turn.
After they told of their short stay in Moria, Gandalf's fall and of the trick they played on Gollum, Radagast nodded his head thoughtfully. "My plan for you, then, is a good one," he said mysteriously. "You will have to learn some defensive and offensive tactics and strategy. Some weapons and medic training would be good thing."
Desi was the first to ask "What plan?" The others sat forward watching the wizard intently.
"Before I get into that, I want to explain the reasoning behind what I have planned. Do you think you were just going to walk into Lorien? And what would you do once you got there? One of you has had close dealings with two members of The Fellowship. Don't you think its a bit risky to be in the Elven city while those two Hobbits are there? How would you explain it if they saw you?" Stormrider blushed and stammered, "Well...well..I ahh..." "Can't you turn her into a frog or something so we can go there?" Andy jumped up and asked.
"Certainly not!" the wizard replied indignantly. "Besides, how would you explain you two Hobbits being allowed into the Elven realm, little smelly one? What business do two home-loving Hobbits have gallavanting around the world? How would you explain that to members of the fellowship. Should I turn you into something?" Now pointing his staff at the Hobbit. Andy quailed "No, Sir. No, Sir." And covered his face with shaking hands.
"Oh no! We can't go to Lothlorien?! DaleAnn sobbed. "Of all places in Middle-earth and we can't go? It's my favorite place!" She pounded her fists on her thighs. "I didn't say you couldn't go. Just not while Frodo and the others are there." amonished Radagast.
That statement did little to ease their minds. "If we can't be there while the company is, where will we go for the month?" Desi wondered.
"You're meeting Grimbeorn at The Carrock and if the men and Dwarves around The Lonely Mountain can spare the time, you'll go there, too. Thranduil is reluctant to extend an invitation, but, perhaps when he sees your escort, he'll relent."
"You're asking too much of my pony", Desi said, shoulders slumped as she tried to calculate the mileage. "The horses aren't going", replied Radagast. They all jumped up crowding Radagast. Andy forgot his fear of being turned into something unnatural. He began pacing and gesturing wildly as if he was actually from New York. "How do you expect us to do all that, without horses? Even with horses?" He was incredulous. They all were. "Why did we go south and then through Moria if all we were going to do is go north again? It would have been simpler to go straight through Mirkwood." "Actually, Moria was the safer route. Mirkwood is far more dangerous. I had to go put my plans in place and get the co-operation of those whose hospitality you will be enjoying. I also, wanted to test your resolve." Radagast standing now, kept the groups attention by copying Andy's earlier gestulations. He wanted to keep his surprise as long as possible. At the right moment, he exclaimed "the Eagles are coming." pointing towards the northern sky. The group was awestruck at the beauty and grace of the raptors as they floated in the nearly cloudless sky. There were two of them, one slightly larger and darker than the other. As they flew closer and closer, DaleAnn was struck by the emmense power in their flight. The rush of wind from the beating of their wings was like a gale as they circled right above their heads. She was torn between cowering in terror and standing awestruck at their beauty in flight. Terror won out and she and the others moved to the edges of their little field, hoping that the ruins and thicket would shield them from the piercing talons, beak and eyes of these creatures.
As the birds landed, they heard a small but deep voice calling from the smaller eagle."Help me down from here," It was only then that everyone noticed the stocky figure almost fully engulfed in feathers, sitting on the bird's back. Everyone was too scared to move, until Radagast made introductions. "This is Landhir, elder son of Landroval, and Menroval, who is the younger son. But, remember these are Lords of the Air, not Middle-earth Airline Service, nor are they the plot device 'deux ex machina'." The Brown wizard continued, "And sitting atop of Menroval, most patiently, is a young foolhardy Dwarf named Dwyrmur, who has agreed to introduce you to Grimbeorn." "At your service and your family's", said Dwyrmur formally. "Now get me down from here!"
|
|
|
Post by Fredeghar Wayfarer on Jul 11, 2013 2:06:09 GMT -6
Dwyrmur clung desperately to his feathery mount. Flying through the air was no proper way for a Dwarf to travel and he had not enjoyed the journey to Azanulbizar (or the Dimrill Dale as other folk called it. "Hmmph," Dwyrmur thought, "A puny Man-word, that."). He had finally arrived and could see the ground below. But the Great Eagle was a towering creature and it was still a long way down.
Menroval sighed wearily and dipped his head towards the ground. Dwyrmur slid down the Eagle's neck and landed in a heap before the assembled travelers. He quickly jumped to his feet, brushing dust and bits of twigs off of his green and brown tunic.
"*Ahem* As I was saying...Dwyrmur, son of Dworinn, at your service."
He stood at attention with his hands behind his back, looking around. Dwyrmur could not help but feel a sense of awe at his surroundings. This was the vale of Azanulbizar where a great battle had been fought long ago between his kin and the Orcs of the Misty Mountains. Many stout Dwarves had lost their lives here and it was here that Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, had earned his famous epithet.
Dwyrmur's musings were interrupted when Desi reached out to tug on his beard. "Hey, look! A real live Dwarf!"
Angrily, Dwyrmur swatted her hand away and huffed and puffed in annoyance. After a moment, he composed himself and continued.
"The Brown Wizard informs me that ye are being sent to meet Grimbeorn the Old. A fine lad, that Grimbeorn. Good storyteller, fond of mead. I've met him a few times during pilgrimages between Ered Luin and the Lonely Mountain. Well, hop aboard one of these big buzzards and we can be off."
"Isn't this exciting?" Stormrider said to DaleAnn. "We get to ride the Eagles!"
DaleAnn's heart was fluttering with enthusiasm as well but the feeling was still mingled with fear of the giant, powerful birds. She moved cautiously towards the Eagles.
"Yes, very exciting," she muttered, somewhat unconvincingly.
"All-righty! Now this is travelin' in style!" Andorinha smiled as he took hold of a handful of feathers and prepared to climb onto an Eagle's back. "To the Carrock, Jeeves! Time's a-wastin'!"
The whole group took a step back in unison when the larger Eagle, Landhir, leaned his head down and glared at them.
"Understand something, Land-walkers," the Eagle said in a clear, deep baritone. "We are not your servants. Nor are we a transport service at your beck and call to take you where'er you desire. This is but a favor for Radagast the Brown, who has ever been an ally to our people."
"Pay him no heed," Menroval said of his brother. "He gets cranky when he hasn't had his breakfast."
"D-don't we all?" said Andorinha, trying to look braver than he felt. He hoped Wild-hobbits were not a staple of said breakfast.
Soon the party was mounted on the Eagles' backs -- Stormrider and DaleAnn upon Landhir, with Desi, Andy, and Dwyrmur crowded together atop Menroval.
"Good fortune speed you," Radagast called to the group. "And may the Valar protect you, my wayfarers!"
As the mighty wings began to work up a windstorm, the Eagles rose gradually into the sky. Dwyrmur held fast and buried his face once again in feathers.
"By Mahal!" he swore. "I bloody hate this part! If Dwarves were meant to fly, we'd have been born with wings!"
Stormrider couldn't help but cheer. Though more than a little frightened by the height, riding an Eagle was every bit as exciting (perhaps more) as riding her beloved horses.
Far below them, the travelers could see the tiny figure of Radagast riding through the Dale and waving them a fond farewell. The Eagles soared over the waters of the Mirrormere and the lush green of the valley. Soon, they were speeding over the hills, woods, and rivers of Rhovanion, making their way north towards the Carrock and the Beorning court at Beorn's Hall.
|
|
|
Post by Andorinha on Jul 14, 2013 12:26:15 GMT -6
Conditions aboard an Eagle were just about as crowded, noisy, and uncomfortable as an overstuffed 747 -- "Now where did that thought come from?" Andy was a bit perplexed, and disturbed as the "sardine-can image" of tight-packed passengers came unbidden into his mind. "Hmm," he thought, "just who am I? Seems at times I've led another life, not quite so exciting nor half as colorful as this one…" He let the thought die, he'd work it out later. Right now, Dwyrmur's armored accouterments were gouging a hole in his back. He had to adjust his position, letting his pack slip down to protect his spine. Meanwhile, Desi was squirming again, apparently Andy's accouterments had invaded the small of her back… "Oh boy, are we having fun yet?" he muttered to himself, "and I bet we don't even get a bag of pretzels."
Less tightly crammed, DaleAnn and Stormrider seemed to be enjoying the novelty of their flight, though DA's neck was tightly corkscrewed ("Gonna have a crick in that neck!" thought Andy) as she sought a few last glimpses of Lothlorien over her shoulder. She was trying to pierce the golden, shimmering haze of the place, trying to find the Green Spires of Caras Galadon before the entire Elven enclave could recede into the mists.
Stormrider was bent low over the Eagle's pinioned shoulders, her face fairly beaming, she seemed to be encouraging Landhir to make his progress just a little faster. "If you say 'giddy-up' one more time, I just might get cranky again." The Eagle shouted back at her.
And so it went. Andy had to admit that they were fairly flowing along, the air was clear, untroubled by any turbulence, and a fresh, cooling breeze swept over them continuously. The mountains marched in serried ranks, peak after peak on their left; while the borders of Mirkwood ran along with them to the east, a dark, irregular line of blackish-green. Directly below were the rolling grasslands, spangled with copses of trees, and isolated masses of granitic-looking rock, sometimes piled up like glacial tills, and sometimes rearing in a solid mass of rain-carved and wind-sculpted forms. And of course there was the Great River. At times it was a dark, broad line below them, and then, with some slight shift in their flight, its waters caught the bright sun's rays, and broke into a thousand coruscations of reflected gold and silver.
As he reckoned from memory's map, it was about 200 miles from the aptly, poetically named Dimrill Dale to the Fords of The Carrock. "Dimrill Dale," Andy expostulated, "now there's a pretty, alliterative name for you, feels good upon the tongue, not like that mouth deforming Dwarvish racket, what did you call it, Dwyrmur? 'Azank-uhl-bardoz' or something?"
The Dwarf lunged a bit, bringing a pointy-hilted dagger (perhaps not intentionally?) into sharp contact with an unprotected span of the hobbit's rib cage -- "Ummpff," Andy added.
"Now see here, it is 'Azanulbizar,' woolly-foot, and has been such for thousands of years before your kind ever swarmed out of the Wild to settle the shores of the Great River up by The Gladden Fields."
Interested indeed, Andy forgot to plant a vengeful elbow into the Dwarf's middle, and even Desi, fully hobbit at the moment, turned half-way round to ask: "You mean where Gollum, or Smeagol I guess, once lived with his egg-sucking grandmother?"
"Precisely the spot. In fact, moving at the clip of a galloping steed, it's about 3 hours from Azanulbizar. If you keep your eyes peeled -- and mouths shut -- you two should see that ancestral home site soon" Dwyrmur explained. Desi had grown excited, and Andy was certainly intrigued. Both the Hobbits squinted forward, hoping to spy something, well Hobbitish, in the landscapes ahead. So, they rode quietly for a goodly while.
"Should be pretty soon now," Dwyrmur finally interjected, and Menroval took that moment to declare a rest period was needed. Apparently, the Old Hobbit Ruins would make a fine breaking point in their journey. "You three, especially with all the squirming, make a tiresome load…" In Eagle-speech, he shrilled out a few notes to Landhir, and DaleAnn shouted back, "What did you three do!? If you've lost us our rides I'll use the gloves on all of you!" Stormrider, was a bit brighter today than DA, who had had little sleep the night before, and she calmed her companion. "No, I think we are just going down for a rest, can't expect a connectionless flight." To which Landhir replied, somewhat testily: "Too right!! I need a breather. In case you didn't hear, we are landing at the Old Gladden Hobbit Holes. You can explore a bit, see if you can find any, hmmm, Bilbo told me the word -- yes, mathoms! You look for mathoms, while we hunt up our dinners."
That said, the Eagles began a slow, circling descent, moving toward the confluence of the two waters below them, the Gladden and The Great River.
|
|
|
Post by Stormrider on Jul 30, 2013 16:33:35 GMT -6
Gracefully, the Eagles landed near the bank of the Anduin and the passengers dismounted: Stormrider as if swinging down from a saddle, DaleAnn slid gracefully down a wing, Andy leapt off the rear of Menroval and hit the ground in a roll, Desi with one of her drill team dismounts, and Dwyrmur stayed put with a look of annoyance on his face. “Ahem, I need help!” he mumbled wondering how everyone could make dismounting look so easy. Stormrider and DaleAnn came over. Each grabbed him below an armpit, lifted him up, and placed him on the ground with a metallic rattle. “Hummmphfff!” he fumed while the rest of them smiled.
Being free of their passengers, the Eagles primped and fluffed their feathers for a bit before they took off for the sky. They soared high into the air and headed east toward the forest of Mirkwood. The group could see them circling and weaving in and out. Occasionally, one took a dive, then the other dived and then they returned to the sky.
The passengers, who were now safely back on the ground, looked around eagerly. The Eagles had set them down on the eastern side of the Anduin overlooking the marsh of the Gladden where it emptied into the Anduin. The river junction was in a valley with steep slopes leading up to Mirkwood forest further east of where they now stood. Across the Anduin they saw the Gladden Fields on the south side of the marshy area. Lilies would have been growing there if it had been earlier in the year. “So a big battle took place here and The One Ring was lost?” asked Desi.
“Yes, the Battle of the Gladden Fields took place here.” piped up Andy in a sophisticated voice and posing as if he was at a podium giving a lecture. “In Third Age year 2, Isildur, his 3 eldest sons, Elendur, Aratan, and Ciryon, came with the Dunedain of Arnor. Although accompanied by 200 knights and soldiers, they were ambushed and massacred by Orcs from the Misty Mountains who came down out of the forest of Mirkwood. Realizing they had little chance, Isildur asked Ohtar, his escort, and another to take the Shards of Narcil, Elendil’s Sword, to safety despite the possibility that he would be known as a coward for abandoning Isildur.”
Andy took a breath and continued. ”Isildur held the One Ring in a gold case on a chain. He knew he could not let The Ring fall into the Orcs’ hands. As the attack became more fierce and the orcs were gaining the upper hand, Isildur, threw a cape over his shoulders, but the Elendilmir worn on his brow and which had caused the Orcs to fear him, blazed forth red and wrathful as a burning star before he covered it with the hood over his head.” Andy shook his head. Where had that knowledgeable spiel come from?
“What’s an Elendilmir?” Desi queried with a scrunched up face.
DaleAnn responded. “It is a white star of Elvish crystal on a mithril chain that descended from Silmarien to Elendil. Every king of the line in Arnor after Elendil wore the Elendilmir on his brow as the token of royalty in the North Kingdom.”
“Oooooo! Wouldn’t it be cool to find it as a mathom?” crooned Desi.
“It WILL be found by King Elessar after the War of the Ring.” continued DaleAnn. “Remember, from the Council of Elrond, they were aware that Saruman had been secretly searching this area for The Ring around Third Age 2851. However, he didn’t find it since Gollum had taken it long ago. King Elessar will find both the Elendilmir and the gold case on the silver chain in Orthanc when they do the reconstruction there. Elessar will reclaim the Elendilmir and wear it upon his brow.”
“Aw, fiddlesticks.” moaned Desi. “Those would have been mathoms worth having.”
“Yes, it would have been a great find, Desi.” acknowledged Stormrider.
Dwyrmur added, “Elendur, his son, lead the defense and reported that his other two brothers were dead. Elendur knew his father must take The Ring to safety so he bid his father farewell. Isildur slipped The Ring on and fled toward the bottom of the valley. He tread warily and reached the banks of the Anduin in the dead of night. The River swirled swiftly so he removed all of his armour and weapons but a small dagger at his waist. Even though he was already exhausted from the fighting and running he attempted to swim across the Anduin. The swirling waters swept him toward the Gladden Fields and he became tangled in the rushes and weeds. He realized The Ring had abandoned him while he struggled in the rushes. As he reached the riverbed, the night-sighted orcs spotted him and loosed their poisoned arrows striking him in the throat causing him to fall back into the rushing waters. He was never seen again.”
Everyone paused in silence for a moment. After a while Desi whispered, “I thought everyone was killed. How did they know this is what happened?”
“There were witnesses, Desi.” Stormrider answered. “Ohtar and his companion escaped with the shards of Narsil. Elendur’s esquire, Estelmo, escaped the slaughter and was one of the last to fall, stunned by a club and left as dead. He heard father and son speaking at their departure. However, most of Isildur’s final moments were speculation but based on Estelmo’s telling of Isildur’s departure, the knowledge that he did have The One Ring, his armour and weapons found at the river bank, and the orcs who were still keeping watch on the bank.”
“So this is the land of the Stoors?” Desi asked looking around expectantly. She seemed rather disappointed there wasn’t a booming Hobbit Town surrounding them. It was very desolate. “When did the Stoors move to this area?” Desi asked.
Dwyrmur answered this time “ In TA 1150 The Stoors came over the Redhorn Pass and moved to the Angle or Dunland. But by TA 1300 evil creatures began to multiply and the Nazgul reappeared. the Periannath, or Hobbits, migrated westward and many settled in Bree. Around TA 1356 The Stoors left the Angle and remigrated back to Wilderland and contact between the Hobbit races was broken.
Many Hobbits migrated from Bree and were granted land beyond Baranduin in TA 1601. When TA 1630 rolled around they were joined by Stoors coming up from Dunland. Not many years later, The Great Plaque spread north and east from Gondor and beyond the Baranduin. The Periannath barely survived and suffered great loss."
DaleAnn added, "It was over 1100 years later in TA 2463, that Deagol, the Stoor, found the One Ring and was murdered by Smeagol who took it from him. In TA 2470, Smeagol-Gollum finally made his way to the Misty Mountains to hide. It wasn’t until 388 years after Deagol’s murder in TA 2851, that Saruman began searching for The Ring in the Gladden Fields."
“Why are there no more Hobbits living here? What happened to them?” Desi wondered.
Andy took up his podium stance again. "All Hobbits were slow to change, but the Stoors went back to a wilder and more primitive life of small communities that began to dwindle; while the Shire-folk developed a more settled and elaborate social life. From the time Deagol was murdered to the beginning of Gandalf’s enquiries concerning the Ring, the Stoors died out altogether.”
”That’s sad that a whole race of Hobbit died out.” Desi sniffled. DaleAnn patted Desi on the back in sympathy.
The group began to break up and move into different directions to gather wood for a fire and to look around. Stormrider meandered off to take a look at the land on which the Battle of the Gladden Fields had taken place. At one time, this would have been an excellent place for hobbit holes with rolling, rippling slopes and camel humped hills, but the years of wind and rain had eroded much of the land down and the slopes were not as prominently hilly now. There was scrub brush, small bushes and trees, and grasses on the slopes. But there certainly wasn’t much to tell that a community of Stoors had lived here.
Any signs of a long ago battle had been erased over the years, too. “I would never have known that there was such vital history that had taken place here.” thought Stormrider to herself. But still it was exhilarating that she was standing in this place knowing what had transpired here. She trembled in awe. As she took it all in she also kept her eyes open for branches and logs she could pick up for kindling. She moved along a portion of the battlefield as she collected her goods.
She had quite a good armful of branches so she turned to go back but at that moment the earth shifted underneath her. She found herself slipping as the dirt and sand began to sink around her! “Eeeeeee!” She dropped her armful and grabbed for a bush nearby to hold on to until the earth settled. It was as if a small whirlpool had spun a hole around her. After it settled (only a couple of seconds of swirling, actually), she started to pull herself back up but her foot snagged on something under the dirt. She yanked her foot and it didn’t want to give but she kept at it. She was about to call for help when suddenly it came loose.
Where her foot had been was what appeared to be the handle of a sword. She reached down and extracted it. It was long and although caked in dirt, she could see it had etchings and stones on it. Oddly enough, it was rather light for its length. Stormrider pulled herself completely out of the hole along with the sword. She rubbed at the dirt on the sword and saw that it was made with marvelous workmanship and damasked with serpent forms in red and gold. It was set with many fiery stones and the blade was unrusted and still sharp. From an opening in the clouds, a ray of sunlight shown down at that moment causing the sword to glitter.
Stormrider gathered the branches she had dropped and headed back to her group. She was grinning with excitement and couldn’t wait to get back to show the others!
|
|
|
Post by fanuidhol on Aug 12, 2013 11:03:42 GMT -6
DaleAnn chose to look for kindling and logs due East from the Eagles' landing point. She felt exhilarated by the flight, remembering the wind in her hair and spending most of the time gazing at the majestic Misty Mountains. There was a definite bounce in her step as she set a brisk pace for herself up and down the rolling hills. DaleAnn focused her sights on a copse of mature trees set at a higher elevation as her goal. It would give her a chance to consider the view of the area below and ponder the history that unfolded there while she gathered the wood needed for the camp.
The further she walked, the more DaleAnn became mindful that there were fewer and fewer rocks jutting from the ground around her. She found that strange. The woman then concentrated on her steps, trying to feel differences in the spongy earth beneath her. She had learned to feel the hardness of rocks just below the surface with her feet during the time she was collecting them to mark the paths in her labyrinth at home.
At home! With a sigh and tear running down her cheek, DaleAnn continued to trek upward. Now, her strides were slowed. At first, she thought it was due to exertion and her thoughts of home. But, then DaleAnn perceived a growing sense of dread as she took those last steps to her objective. She looked around and saw a thin line of darkness visible in the distant eastern horizon. Mirkwood! A knife of panic stabbed her heart. She turned to run but, grabbing the closest tree trunk to anchor herself, forced her eyes to survey the considerable border of the malevolent forest. Many deep breaths later, DaleAnn tore her eyes away to concentrate on the job at hand. She tried not to think of the journey that was laid before them as she searched the ground for firewood. When she gathered a respectable armload of wood, she somberly began the mile or so hike back to camp. She passed an odd shaped hillock with a steep drop to the west that she didn't notice on the way up. DaleAnn decided to inspect the area, thinking it might possibly be a long-lost dwelling of the Stoors. Other than the oddness of shape, there were no noticeable markings of habitation. Walking up, over, and around the "bump" she concluded that it didn't merit closer probing. She resumed her walk towards the river.
Two more odd grassy lumps with the same sharp drop on the west side proved to the woman that they were man made... "Stoor-made", DaleAnn corrected herself. She chose the closest one to study. She approached what she thought might be the doorway, the almost perpendicular wall on the west side. She had the impression of something quite solid underfoot right in front of it. DaleAnn took one of the sturdy sticks she had collected and started digging. Soon, she found a rectangular box with a pretty green patina. Something rattled inside when she shook it, but it wouldn't open. "Copper? The corrosion has probably sealed it shut", she thought, "I'll bring it back to camp and see if I can crack it open with something."
No one was around when she reached the area. DaleAnn found a wedge-shaped rock to hammer the corrosion off the box. Rather than start the fire, which she knew she should do, she sat on the ground and worked on her find. In short order, the small chest was open. Inside was a pair of boots. Stoor boots! Ancient Stoor boots!
|
|
|
Post by Desi Baggins on Aug 21, 2013 13:03:23 GMT -6
Not wanting to get lost Desi made her way down by the Anduin River bank and followed it along. While collecting some kindling Desi imagined a booming Hobbit population in this very area, Stoors fishing along this very river bank.
Sometime passed by and Desi became tired of roaming around and her arms were weighted down by some kindling that she seemed to keep dropping and having to pick it up again, her little arms were not the best way to carry a bunch of branches. She decided to sit down and rest. She tried to get close to a ledge and use it as a back rest and as she was fidgeting around her hand bumped into something deep in the grass. It was a bird’s nest but in it were not normal eggs but hand painted eggs. Pondering her discovery Desi decided to collect the nest and eggs. She opened up her backpack and found a Tupperware container and put the nest and eggs in it.
“That container will help protect those eggs from breaking in our crazy adventure,” Desi said to herself. “I wonder if these eggs have anything to do with Gollum’s thoughts when he guessed Bilbo’s riddle…he must have thieved these eggs from a nest, I had wondered if his grandmother and him really sucked eggs or if he was referring to the English saying meaning that a person is giving advice to someone else about a subject that they already know about (and probably more than the first person),” Desi thought aloud.
Taking her findings Desi headed back to the group with a light load of kindling.
|
|
|
Post by Andorinha on Aug 22, 2013 2:16:04 GMT -6
He sat upon a rounded hill, a height of middling girth, and watched the others scatter to the "four quarters of the earth." It was as though the four winds blew simultaneously -- but each character reacted only to one, separately. Stormy was swept that-a-way; and Desi bustled the opposite; while Dwyrmur (too stout one would have thought to be wind-tossed) was hurried over yon; and Fanuidal (as one might expect!) was scooted along a great distance before she fetched up against a solid block. In their various and sundry positions each scrabbled about, each pushed the ancient mould aside, each claimed a prize and almost in apology, each clasped at a few bits of kindling too...
From his high seat, Andorinha could see the circling mounds, "chick-like," that flocked about his centrally located "hen of a mound," the mother of them all. He smiled -- and somehow felt comforted by all that busy activity. No doubt his throne was sited upon the very Matriarchal seat of Smeagol's ancient grandmother -- and the plan of a casual town was easily descried from this position of advantage.
He was starting to seriously like all his companions -- he suddenly realized -- and became instantly grumpy with himself. "Humpf, just a passle of strangers, met fortuitous like, no reason to get really 'chummy' wid any of 'em." He "humpfed" at himself in vague reproof several more times...
And then he realized, he was not as commodiously seated as he might have been. Something sharp was digging it's way into both his conscious mind and his tender posterior. He shrugged and slumped his way awkwardly to one side, and sent a probing hand to discover the object of his discomfort.
It was quite hard, quite sharp, quite intruding -- and at first he hoped for a dagger, but it was not all that sharp, nor all that metallic either. At one end it was capped with silver -- but silver would surely have been corroded by the acids of the dirt, been rotted by the passage of five hundred years and more -- while this was bright as a polished mirror!
It was not a pommel, as he first hoped, but a slantwise, perforated bit of what must be mithril! The rest of this artifact was a jointed cylinder, long and bifurcated, a double-tube of ivory, with fingered stops on both the vocal barrels.
"It's a flute! But can it still produce?" He shook it hard, and dug a bit at the tubes, reaming them clean of the dirt-loads of the centuries; and finally, he had it free and clear. Its tubes were indeed made of ancient ivory, now yellowed and mellowed by time and their burial within the highly acidic peat. He raised it to his mouth, felt the mithril tongue of the instrument seat itself almost magically between his lips, and then he blew...
The tones were Elven sweet, mellow, and clean -- pure-voiced, he would have called it, and with minor adjustments of angle, and the armature of his lips, he found he could bring fourth a dual sort of voice, both high and low together, resonant, harmonious...
He would not have been able to rationally tell you why, but dirge slow memories were at once released, and an ancient song he may, or may not have ever heard before, came fourth; and with it there came words, mournful, calming though, and as pure as if both notes and words were newly minted at the brave dawn of the young world:
"Never more shall I behold the country of my birth, In guiltless suffering I'm condemned to spend my time on earth.
"The owl upon the roof shall call, and grief will my heart tear, his voice shall echo in the woods, but I will not be there."*
He put the tubes from his mouth, and brushed a sleeve across his eyes. "Well, that sad tune will not go well with the hustle of these new friends -- better find a happy little hobbit song if I'm to entertain this present crew!"
And at that moment, he saw the four converging, trudging home, laden with more than just the sticks of wood they had started out to gather...
______________________
* To be sung to the haunting strains of "House of the Rising Sun," slowed down a bit -- poetry courtesy of Doestoevsky...
|
|
|
Post by Fredeghar Wayfarer on Aug 27, 2013 1:57:39 GMT -6
Dwyrmur wandered about the rolling hills, happy to feel solid earth below his feet once more. Blasted Eagles! He had to concede that they'd made better time than if they'd ridden ponies. But flight had never been intended for Man, Hobbit, or especially Dwarf!
Curious, he examined the remains of the crude huts and hobbit-holes that had once stood here. As he explored, a small object in the dirt caught his eye.
It appeared to be a child's rag doll but the form it presented was no hobbit shape. In fact, it was barely humanoid at all. The strange lumpy creature was green and frog-like. Its eyes were two red beads that glimmered in the sunlight and it had a row of large buck teeth. Its arms and fingers were unnaturally long and its feet were over-sized. Altogether, it was quite a proper little monster.
Dwyrmur thought back to a hobbit legend that his friend Fredeghar Wayfarer had once told him. This could only be a Mewlip! The hobbits had long told stories of the fearsome Mewlips who lurked in the swamps "beyond the Merlock Mountains," ready to murder unwary travelers and keep their bones in a sack. No such creature actually existed in Middle-earth of course but it was a popular story. This toy, though caricatured and less monstrous than its namesake, was meant to represent a Mewlip.
He was admiring this odd little find when he heard a lilting melody. Dwyrmur turned and saw Andorinha playing some sort of small flute, no doubt another "mathom" found in the ruins. A glint of light caught his eye and he was drawn to the mouthpiece of the instrument. As he approached and got a better look, his breath caught in his throat.
"It...it can't be. That's...mithril!"
Dwyrmur ran to the young hobbit musician, examining the flute with wonder. True-silver, here in the Gladden Fields? How could this be? Mithril had been extremely rare since the loss of Khazad-dûm in the days of Dwyrmur's forefathers. How had it come to be here among the trinkets of simple hobbit river-folk?
"That is a rare and wondrous find, lad," the dwarf told Andorinha. "Take good care of it. Unless, er, you'd be willing to sell or trade it for something. In which case, I would be most interested."
He stared wide-eyed at the flute, completely mesmerized by the beautiful tones and the glittering silver sheen.
|
|
|
Post by Andorinha on Oct 26, 2013 13:26:04 GMT -6
He was lost in the pleasant revery that was the speech of the mithril flute. It's tone had altered, was flowing now into a different channel, a peaceful path of note and trill, and playful harmonies resembling the plash of waters moving briskly down a broken slope. He shut his eyes, the better to see, and entered an open field, a high meadow in the laps of a great mountain. Sunlight was caught in its spreading bowl of grass, it's trees scattered singly or in modest clumps of three or four together, and there were flowers, many flowers -- white, blue, yellow and red… And best of all, she was there.
Our heads are bent close, nearly touching. Cupped in your hand is a white rock, almost a crystal, almost a lozenge of frozen foam, sugar-textured, gleaming, pulsing, turning from facet to facet with the trembling of your arm.
There is wine in the air -- no need to drink -- just breathe it in and dream...
He woke slowly to the speech of the Dwarf, and she melted away, shimmering, but her talismanic pebble remained, a lump of great comfort in the pouch he wore about his throat, warm upon his chest.
"That is a rare and wondrous find, lad," the dwarf told Andorinha. "Take good care of it. Unless, er, you'd be willing to sell or trade it for something. In which case, I would be most interested."
He smiled at the dwarf, his eyes still misted with dream-fog. "Not a thing to be owned, I think, nor bartered ever -- but shared. Your eyes are wide -- perhaps there is a song inside you? When it is ready full, come back, and the flute will go to you. Shall you try it now?" and he handed the graceful artifact to the dwarf. Dwyrmur caressed it, then lifted it towards his mouth, hesitated, then handed it back. "My song is not yet full."
They sat pleasantly there in the sunshine, for a goodly while, until Desi shouted: "Hey, you two, close your slack-jawed mouths before you catch flies, and one of you needs to get us a big pot of water. Our Eagles have left us some 'wild mutton' chunks just begging to be turned into stew!"
DaleAnn had found some potatoes, smallish things but numerous, the remnant stuff of ancient hobbit gardens gone wild again; and Stormy was hauling out a cache of spices, salts, and flavorings and looking about for a pot of water too. Andy laughed, tucked the flute into his knapsack and raced toward the campfire where he snagged the pot with one hand, and pelted wildly down the slope to a merry, tributary stream.
Dwyrmur got stuck with helping to peel the taters, while DA went off to gather up what she thought must be onions -- and though their bulbs were rather small, they proved to be both potent in taste and pungent in scent.
Tucked closely around the fire, stew simmering nicely, they all began to think about tomorrow's renewed flight, and just where the Eagles would drop them, and what they would find there.
DaleAnn was the first to speak, clearing her throat in a preparatory way: "Ahem! Now this is what I'm thinking…"
|
|