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Legolas{Greenleaf}
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 17, 2003 04:22
(((BTW I like your new avatar galadriel_elf_queen1 )))

Amaril stopped mid step when he saw that their female companion no longer walked next to him. Turning, he regarded her with a questioning look. Her face was a mask, cold and impenetrable. Suspicion quickly rose to the surface of the elf's emotions. The night was getting odder as it got later.

'I think its time I tell you who I am, and why I'm here.' she said softly. Her voice was smooth, and in control. She knew what she was doing.

She looked between the two friends. Amaril had an arm wrapped about his friend's torso, helping him stand, as the Wargn looked about ready to fall from fatigue. They both seemed occupied with their own thoughts.

'Than, please, elf maiden. Tell us your name and your business, for I have been wondering the same thing,' Amaril answered for them both. He had been questioning the presence of the woman, and was happy to find answers. It had been a confusing night for them all.

But he was sure that it could only get more confusing as the night slowly bowed to the dawn.
Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 17, 2003 04:32
As they had continued on, Amaril had returned his arm around the Wargn. Fatigue was setting in once more. His back ached as did his head. He noticed the woman drop behind them, and he feared at that moment that she had heard something that may pose a threat to them.

As the both turned, she sat on the ground, her sturn eyes cast back up into each of their own.

'I think its time I tell you who I am, and why I'm here.' she said softly.

'Than, please, elf maiden. Tell us your name and your business, for I have been wondering the same thing,' Amaril responded. His arm was still around his companion.

Siphon straightened, walked a few feet away from his support, and sat before her at an angle so that Amaril might also join them.

'Pray tell.' he begged with a smile. 'Tonight is a night of unmasking it seems, and the paths before us are shrouded in mystery. Let us know one another better if we are to share the upcoming dangers.'


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[Edited on 18/10/2003 by CarolP]
galadriel_elf_queen1
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 18, 2003 04:06
((okies then, let's see how this works.))

Moiriane laid her staff on her lap and quietly pulled apart the twine that held the yin-yang, like orb to the top. She lay it on the ground infront of her.

"Please sit, if that is what you wish." she said softly.

She then pulled maybe 3 or four daggers from inconspicious places that you wouldn't usually think of. She laid those on the ground also.

Finally she glanced back up at them. "My name is Moiraine Edoleaf. I come from Rivendell, having lived there for many years. I was sent, mostly against my will, to follow you, no matter where your journey sent you. You might ask by who, and if you have heard of the great Wizard Gandalf the White, let that be your answer."

She paused in picked up the orb, which seemed to be glowing, just a bit. She smiled, knowing that they would htink she was speaking in riddles.

"This meaningless quest that Aragorn has sent you on, mayhap not be so meaningless." she said simply. "Somewhere in the highest reaches of the Middle Eath, far from where prying human eyes can see, a puppeteer, and a man with great, but hidden powers awaits. This man, hungers for power." she sighed. "And he will corrupt us all with his greed whether he means it or not, if your mission fails.

Suddenly the orb stopped glowing and Moiraine stood up purposefully,ignoring the two men. She brushed off her dress, as if she had not a care in the world.

"I have relayed my message Gandalf Stormcrow..." she said softly, as if speaking to the silent breeze itself. She stared at her companions. "You have your mission, now if you don't mind, I have other places to be."

She was about to turn away when one of them stopped her.
Legolas{Greenleaf}
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 18, 2003 05:06
Amaril jumped up as soon as she started away from them. He had so many questions spinning in his head. He seemed to be asking many questions and getting very few responses in return.

'Wait! A moment, if you will,' he asked in a rush. She knew Gandalf. If she had been sent by Mithrandir, then the task at hand must have been important. 'Who is this 'puppeteer' that you speak of? What does he have to do with a dragon in the North?'
Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 18, 2003 05:13
'And why would the Grey Pilgrim of Middle Earth care to tell us of all other folk journeying these lands?' Siphon interrupted, remaining where he sat. 'Why does he believe it is us who should know?'

Siphon stood, uneasily at first but soon gained his footing. 'Do not think we'll harm you, lady, but do not think we will let you go without these questions answered. You will tell us all that you know, and then, if you wish, you can leave us and go on your own way. And, if you would please, explain why you prevaricated about the ships to the Havens ceasing to sail anymore. That, at least, I demand you answer.' Siphon crossed his arms and waited, having little else to say until Moiraine continued talking.
galadriel_elf_queen1
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 19, 2003 05:48
Moiraine turned around and smirked. "It is always a mistake to let men know to much." she said quietly. "And you are no exception. But perhaps, I ought to let you know a bit more. I wouldn't but for the fact I was the giver of the message. And you say you will not harm me but so have many other men, before I have given other messages. but I do not fear you. I have-" she coughed. "harmed other men for lesser crimes and I'm not afraid to do the same in this case."

One of her daggers slid out of her sleeves and into her hand, and she twirled it noticably, so it shined in the dim light.

She glared at Siphon. "And you. You have absolutely no right to order me about, and it would be my choice, and mine alone to reveal information. Now if you insist I give you litle more information I shall, but under one condition."

"Which is?" Amaril said impatiently.

"You do not insist that I relay any other message to any other person." she said smiling slightly. She could tell by the looks on their faces but they did not understand. "Anyway, you ask who the puppeteer is? Alas I do not know, and as far as Mithrandir goes, I do not think he knows either. We do know, that he is powerful and is greedy."

She paused and straightened her dress unnessisarily. "This puppeteer, is who released the dragon." she said simply. "Do you not wonder why no one was aware of it until now? That was because it didn't exist. This Puppeteer released it, and thinks he can control it. He will not and middle earth will not continue to be as we know it."

She turned to Siphon. "Why would he have me tell you? It seems you have quite a reputation in some lands, and also, it is not for us to creed for or against what the White Wizard proposes. Alas, he is gone now, and can no longer help us, but through this small message he had me give." she smirked. "And you demand I answer why the ships no longer sail? You demand nothing."

"Why would I of all people know why the ships have stopped sailing? Lord Elrond creed it. He too crossed with Gandalf." Her eyes glistened with what could be tears. "The time of elves is over, and to him, those who haven't crossed already, do not need to be in the Grey Havens. I..." she stuttered "I was supposed to cross also, just days after Elrond left, but...he stopped me." she looked up angrily. "There you have your answer."

She turned and stalked off into the forest, not caring that what she gave them would not help them, nor was it the entirety of their mission. She didn't really care.
Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 19, 2003 01:02
Siphon frowned and turned his expression toward Amaril.

'Our new friend it seems is not so friendly after all.' He thought for some time. 'She has not told us everything, that I am certain of. But we cannot force any more out of her.'

Amaril turned his smiling face upon his companion. 'Such fantastic people skills you have mellon nin, I am amazed you do not have more enemies then already seem to wish to lay claim to your head.'

'Believe what you will!' Siphon laughed, waving a hand at his friend playfully as if he were an annoying fly. 'If she had not been so stubborn the I would not have been so stern! Besides, we got a little more information out of her, and...' Siphon stopped, his eyes grazing the place Moiraine had disappeared into.

'What?' Amaril questioned seeing the melancholy expression upon his friend's face.

Siphon smiled, somewhat in embarrassment. 'I have a feeling we will be seeing her again.' Amaril turned his head toward the shadows of the forest for some time, until Siphon clasped a hand over his shoulder. 'Come my friend. I'll need more help heading back to the Inn. I have a feeling I have a window to pay for and some bruises to mend.'
Legolas{Greenleaf}
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 19, 2003 02:01
It took some time to help Siphon back to the inn. He was badly bruised from the fall and tussle upon the ground. His adrenaline had worn off long ago and he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open enough to see the ground in front of him. Amaril helped as best he could, keeping a protecting arm around the dark elf as he limped up the banister to the room above the tavern.

Amaril opened the door and helped him inside only to find a very angry inn keeper demanding an explanation as to why he didn't have a window where the gapping whole was now residing. After a heated argument, Amaril paid the man more than the cost of fixing the side of the inn and showed him to the door. Shutting it, he leaned his forehead against the door and sighed. 'That is the third time I've sighed tonight,' he thought exasperated.

Turning, he found that Siphon had fallen asleep on the feather bed, his eyes closed and his face contorted in pain. Amaril set to dressing what wounds needed extra attention and then sat upon the other bed occupying the room. The bed sank with the extra weight, and he sat keeping watch over the dark elf until dawn broke over the horizon.

He did not sleep that night. He found that as tired as he was, he was not sleepy. It would have to wait until another night. Slowly the town awoke from a night of slumber, and the day's work began, but the Wargn slept on. Amaril decided to let him sleep off the injuries as he stood and walked downstairs to see if he could order breakfast.

He walked up to the bar, hood over head, and looked on the innkeeper. The man glared at the elf as he ordered breakfast. He obviously was still angry about his window. Amaril sat down at the same table that had seated Siphon and himself not hours earlier.

He leaned back and cursed his stupidity. If he had not left, than Siphon might not have been attacked. The waitress from last night brought out his food and ale and he nodded his thanks to her before picking up his fork.

Just then, the door to the tavern opened and in walked in dressed soldiers of Gondor. They wore their uniforms proudly, marked by the white tree. They seemed weary from travel and their worn boots left mud on the clean floor. A breeze blew in from the north and Amaril could swear he heard mocking laughter come in with these men.

They sat at one of the larger tables, ordering food and ale to be brought out. Soon, they had a conversation struck up and Amaril could not help but perk his ears up to what they were talking about.

'Aye, that's what I said,' said one man, his hair black and shiny from grease. 'Five scouts were sent out to investigate, and none returned.' A few of the men had frightened looks upon their faces. The elf noticed that they looked to be novices, obvious soldiers in training. No battle scars yet adorned their faces, nor their eyes haunted by wars long past.

'Maybe they were waylaid,' spoke a younger man, his hair the same color as the other man's. The first man shook his head.

'No, either orcs or the dragon himself got them. Only their mounts returned.'

Amaril had heard enough. Obviously Gondor was in danger, or King Elessar would not have sent those men to their deaths. Standing, he paid for his forgotten food and moved upstairs to wake his friend. They still had a long journey left in front of them.
Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 19, 2003 02:20
The sleep had helped the pain subside, but soreness had not hesitated to kick in. He had awoken once to find Amaril had left. Probably to get a meal downstairs. He also noticed that some of the more serious injuries had been dressed. Siphon smiled inwardly at the caring nature of his companion. He had tried to pull himself from the bed but had found the task too arduous. Sighing, he passed back into a gentle, dreamless sleep.

It seemed as if only a few moments had passed before Amaril was genty shaking him awake again. Siphon grunted in response and protest. Hesitant, Amaril still persisted until at last the Wargn sat up, groaning with each movement.

'Has the innkeeper decided to kick us out because of the window?'

'No.' Amaril laughed. 'But I have overheard some information that may prove valuable to us.'

Siphon's eyebrows raised. 'Pray tell then!' Amaril repeated all he had heard from the soldiers to his friend. After a few moments of consideration, Siphon nodded. 'We had best hurry and reach Gondor soon.' he began to lift himself from his bed.

'Ho now!' Amaril cried, resting his hands firmly upon the Wargn's shoulders and holding him down. 'You're still not well. Rest one more night and then we can set off tomorrow.'

'We can go today.' Siphon argued. 'I am fine.'

Amaril poked at his companion's wounded side. The Wargn grunted and laid back in the bed.

'I am sorry, but you see my point.' Amaril apologized.

'We leave tonight then.'

'You are too tenacious for your own good.' Amaril sighed, shaking his head. 'We stay one more night, and leave before dawn tomorrow.'

'I-'

'It has already been decided. You know better than to argue.'

Siphon, fuming slightly, fell back into his pillow and sighed. He would probably not say anything else for the rest of the day.

It was still early when the Wargn slipped back into a restful sleep. Amaril decided to explore the small village a little, perhaps to question those within the city about what they knew, if anything, about what was happening in the north, or Gondor for that matter.

Tying on his cloak, Amaril left the room once more and headed out into the town.


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[Edited on 20/10/2003 by CarolP]
Legolas{Greenleaf}
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 19, 2003 03:46
Amaril glanced up and down the dirt road. With his hood over his head to hide his pointed ears, he led a reluctant Berethon into the crowd. He had decided earlier that if he were to find more information, that he would have to get out of the small tavern, and into the midst of the town.

After talking with the waitress, who seemed more than happy to answer his questions, she had said that the best person to get information from would be Master Nasser, the blacksmith. After thanking the woman, he had retrieved his horse, much to the relief of the stable boy, and headed out to search for the man.

The blacksmith wasn't the hardest place to find, since it was just down the main road from the inn. Both doors were open and the heat eminating from the shop was oppressive. Glancing behind him, and deciding that no one was following him, he led the horse inside the darkened building.

A man stood in front of a large fire, working on a few metals projects. He glanced up and squinted into the bright morning light. 'G'd mornin' Mister,' he bellowed as he picked up his rag to wipe his hands with. 'That's a mighty fine steed you got on your hands.' Amaril grinned, took the proffered hand and shook his greeting.

'Yes, he is,' answered the proud elf. 'Though he seems to be in need for a new horse shoe.'

'Ah. Well, you came to the right place,' he stated proudly as he picked up a few tools. Berethon glared at his master as the blacksmith led the horse towards the fires. Amaril smiled apologetically.

'I thank you for taking in a walk in,' Amaril started the conversation. 'It's not often that a blacksmith has time for such a small job.'

'You looked like a traveler to me eyes. No sense in keeping you waiting, now is it?'

'Yes, I'm traveling up north,' Amaril hinted. Perhaps he would know a few of the happenings up there.

'North?' the blacksmith looked up from the horse's foot. 'Why would you want to be going up there lad?'

Amaril sighed at the name 'lad'. He was easily 5,000 years, this man's senior. 'I hear that there are some strange happenings up that way. Wouldn't want to miss out on some of the fun.' If he was going to be referred to as 'lad', he might as well play along. He could play the young, headstrong adventurer if he had to.

'Fun,' the man snorted as he started pounding away. 'Dragons are no fun lad. Danger is what they are. You best stay away from those parts. Rumor has it a war is starting up there. That's bad enough, now to mix dragons in there...' he trailed off and shook his head. 'You best stick around these parts. King Elessar will probably be recruitin' young men such as yourself anyway, if there be a war abrewing.'

A war. Amaril grimaced at the thought. There had been enough battles this past age. Thanking the blacksmith, he paid the man, and left him to take care of his horse. Heading back out into the cool air, he slipped into the crowd easily. It was already mid day, but he had learned something that might prove useful to Siphon and himself.
Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 20, 2003 11:46
Siphon was sitting at the bar when Amaril came in through the entrance. He waved his companion over toward him and pushed a stool his way.

'Up I see.' Amaril smirked, leaning against the bar.

'Need to eat.' Siphon stated very matter-of-factly.

‘Of course.’ The elf laughed. Siphon was, under normal circumstances, always indulging himself on a good, hearty meal. ‘You’ve got hobbit blood within you somewhere my friend!’ Amaril laughed. ‘No elf eats as much as you.’

‘Believe what you wish!’ Siphon warned jokingly, pointing a fork precariously in his companion’s direction. ‘Where have you been?’

‘I’ve received some rather invaluable information about happenings in the north!’ he announced, sitting beside his companion, stealing bits of potatoes from his plate. Siphon, uncomplaining, raised his silver eyebrows in impression.

‘Have you now?’ The Wargn asked. ‘And who did you threaten and beat to retrieve this information?’ Amaril frowned at his friend before realizing that he was joking.

‘The local blacksmith, actually, was more than willing to divulge to me what he knew.’ said Amaril.

‘What did he say?’

‘A dragon lies in the north, he said.’

‘A dragon?’ Siphon’s eyebrows raised further. The amber eyes delved into Amaril’s blue ones, as if sifting through these words. Surely Amaril would not lie, but the blacksmith might. It would be easy for the Wargn to tell if these words were fallacious. ‘There has not been a dragon since the days before the Ring bearer!’

‘I know it sounds extreme,’ Amaril continued. ‘But King Elessar is obviously fearful of what is happening in the north. He is sending troops and messengers by the handful to have nothing return! Something is happening, Siphon.’ Amaril stated with a frown. ‘Whether or not the blacksmith lies, there is something going on in the north. Gondor is in fear, as well as her King. This is no light matter!’

‘I realize that.’ the Wargn argued. He allowed his fork to dance through his meal a little before breathing an elongated sigh. ‘Very well. Let us reach Gondor tonight.’ he turned those ever watchful and observant eyes to his companion.

‘You still wish to go north?’ Amaril frowned.

Siphon nodded. ‘He is offering something that no one else can give me if I do this small favor for him.’

‘This is no small favor. What is it he offers you?’

‘Protection from whomsoever desires my head mounted on their wall. If there is only one, that is, who wishes such.’


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[Edited on 21/10/2003 by CarolP]
Legolas{Greenleaf}
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 21, 2003 01:31
Shaking his head, Amaril laughed silently. 'Like I have said before, you need to learn to make friends, not enemies.'

Siphon turned to his friend and the light elf's laugh died in his throat. 'I know 'tis no laughing matter, but can the king really grant you protection from whoever wishes your head?'

Finishing his meal, the Wargn started upstairs to gather their things together. 'If he can at least give me a bit of peace so that I do not have to watch my back where ever I go, I will be more than happy to do a small task.'

Amaril sighed, counting it the fourth time he had done so within 24 hours, and moved to tag along with his friend. 'Like I said earlier, this is no small task. This is turning out to be larger than you or I or even Mithrandir thought.'

Opening the door to their room, Siphon walked in and picked up his scimitars. The gaping whole allowed more light than normal to enter the room and it lit up the dark elf's hair, making it shine as brightly as the moon on a cloudless night. Grabbing his long elvish knife, Amaril sheathed it and looped the belt around his waist.

'I agree,' Siphon added after a long pause. 'It is larger than I thought, but we should not let it get out of hand.'

Nodding, Amaril followed the Wargn outside and down the street. All they had to do was pick up Berethon and then set off towards their next destination: Gondor.
Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 21, 2003 01:47
The Wargn waited in the threshold as Amaril gather Berethon. He nearly laughed aloud from the smith's many references to 'lad' and 'boy'. Apparently his companion was not making it evident that he was an elf. Siphon noted the 'say anything and I will send you spiraling into a dark abyss' look upon his friend's countenance and said naught until they left through the gates.

'How long is the journey again?' Amaril asked, playing with a few buckles that held their luggage on the horse's saddle.

'A few days at the most.' Siphon stated, breathing in the free air of the planes before them. They passed beneath the shadows of the mountains and soon had them left far behind before evening fell. 'Unless we encounter more trouble.'

'Should I do most of the talking then?' Amaril laughed. Siphon rolled his eyes and playfully shoved his companion aside, the other laughing at the gesture.

They continued on, chatting merrily and discussing the past as they ventured forth, enjoying passing sights and sounds to pass the times of silence.

'We are entering the Westfold.' Siphon warned after an hour about. Amaril nodded to show he had heard and comprehended. They continued on for some more hours before settling down to take a meal and some rest.

'What of Moiraine's word of the ships no longer returning, my friend?' Siphon came in another moment of silence. Amaril had been taken aback my the question, and said nothing at first.
'What do you think about what she said?' Siphon breathed a sigh. 'She told the truth I believe, but I am still uneasy of her words. What have you made of the situation? I wish to know what you think.'

'Why?' Amaril smiled gently, somewhat unwiling to admit his feelings about the situation.

'Because...I wish to.' Was the only excuse the Wargn offered.

'Surely you have a reason.'

Siphon sighed, setting down his small plate and leaning back on a stone behind him. 'Because...you have missed your chance, it seems, to return to where you belong. I had hoped that, if there was some sort of anger on your mind, aimed at anyone, including myself, you would share it. Perhaps there is something that can be done of this matter...perhaps not. However, if the ships never return...I would like you to know that you always have a place still here in Middle Earth.'

'And where is that?' Amaril asked with a laugh.

'You are always welcome at my side, old friend. That will never change.'

The elf smiled and nodded, though Siphon still awaited a summary of what he himself felt about the situation. Amaril looked to the stars then, as he often did in times of discomfort and confusion, in hopes that perhaps their promising serenity would give hm the strength and words to appropriately word his feelings so that Siphon would both understand them and not take offense to them.

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[Edited on 22/10/2003 by CarolP]
galadriel_elf_queen1
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 26, 2003 05:03
(((I'm so sorry!!! I was grounded, and was unable to post!!! I apologize again! Let's see if I can catch up alright?oh yeah, and Moiraine is going to be waiting for them when they get to the King k? anmd one more thing. Is aragorn still king? if he isn't who is?)))

Moiraine walked out of the forest humming quietly to herself. Those men were strange, that is ture, but they had that quatliy about them. She almost contradicted herself for being so cold. Almost.

She grinned and wated just on the forest edge. A few hours later, they came out. Good. She followed them to the inn and then turned on her own way. She had one more message to deliver, this one, to the King of Gondor.

***

She approached the castle a few days later, still convinced she had left the men behind her. She needed to talk to the King before they arrived.

"Let me through!" she cried when she reached the front gates.

"Who art thou?" a guard at the top yelled back.

"Moiraine Edoleaf, on message journey for the King from Mithrandir!" she called back, and was immiaditaly let in to see His Majesty.

She stalked in, more of the opposite of what Gadalf did when he went to see Theoden. "Your highness!" she said when she reached the area infront of him. she bowed, not curttsy. "I bring message from the late Mithrandir, Gandalf the White."

Quickly and quietly she told him her tale, from her message from Gandalf, to her meeting and his future meeting, with Siphon and Amaril....

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[Edited on 27/10/2003 by Gilraen]
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 28, 2003 01:57
Amaril lay on his back as he watched the stars above him. He had not directly answered Siphon's questions. He did not know how he felt about the situation. If the ships were halted, then his chances of leaving were slim to none.

'You have missed your chance, it seems, to return to where you belong,' Siphon had said. The light elf supposed that he was correct. His belonging somewhere did not frighten him so much as being left alone upon Middle Earth forever, while the forests and plains of his life diminished before his eyes. He knew things would change over time. Being immortal was both a blessing and a curse.

Rolling over and effectively blocking his view from the stars, he lapsed into a state of depression. Even the stars changed over time. He had been on this Middle Earth since the beginning of the Second Age. Thousands of years had passed, and he watched as everything and everyone grew old and passed on. Change was the only prominent thing in his life.

'You are always welcome at my side, old friend. That will never change.'

'Oh, but it will, mellon nîn. It will eventually,' Amaril thought himself as he drifted off into a restless sleep. He knew he would get very little that night.

As he walked in the dreams of the Elves, the stars twinkled in the sky, ever bright and guiding.
Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 28, 2003 02:42
Having heard the only response he would get out of his companion that night, Siphon allowed his friend some rest as he himself drifted into a state of melancholy thoughtfulness. With the ships gone, Amaril was left behind here on Middle Earth to watch it die. To watch everything fade. If he never left, he would watch Siphon die also, over time.

The Wargn frowned at that thought. It was not one elf took lightly. He wondered then if there was something he could do to convince the great Elrond of Rivendell to send a small merchant ship back for his companion. Or Galadriel or Lorien, or even the hailed Mithrandir!

Perhaps. Siphon thought as he listened to Amaril's breathing ease with the coming of a restess sleep. Perhaps things will change. Perhaps our fortunes will. His, at least. Siphon frowned at the still silhouette of his companion and sighed.

"Not all things change, my friend." Siphon spoke softly, sadly, to the unhearing ears of his companion. "Not all thngs change.

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[Edited on 29/10/2003 by Gilraen]
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 28, 2003 03:12
As he had predicted, Amaril's rest was anything but restful. He tossed and turned during the long hours of the night. Usually, an elf could control what he or she saw in their dreams. That is what made their sleep so peaceful, but that night, Amaril dreamed not of his home in Lórien, or of his peaceful memories. He dreamt of death - of war. He sensed it coming and he was powerless to stop it.

He was in the middle of battle. Both Elves and Men fought some unknown enemy. He could not see their faces nor their clothes to guess who they were. He slashed and stabbed and parried until he thought he would fall over from exhaustion. But he kept fighting, kept moving forward in the throng of angry warriors.

Suddenly he was cornered by a faceless man, an enemy robed in dark armor. Fear shook Amaril's soul as he faced off with the man. The warrior seemed intent on bringing down the elf, but Amaril's death would not be won easily. Parrying and forcing his advantage, the elf was able to bring down the man. The elf was shaking, but otherwise unharmed.

Amaril glanced across the field of battle and spotted the only dark elf among the group. He fought with the ferocity of his people, and the grace of his race. Amaril somehow knew that Siphon would be near him. Moving towards his friend, Amaril slashed and brought down any enemy that got in his way. Urgency guided his blade, though he did not know why.

And then he saw why he felt the urgency in his limbs. Amaril stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the dragon, dark and majestic in its' flight swoop down upon the helpless warriors below. It's neck was long, it's head narrowed to it's snout. It was hideous, perhaps even more so than the Balrog he saw Glorfindel slay at the fall of Gondolin.

He tried to yell out, to warn Siphon and his comrades, but he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest, right above his heart. A volley of arrows had rained down upon the warriors, and one had found a chink in the elf's armor. He fell back and into another enemy before ripping the vile thing out of his body. He looked at the tip and blinked away a creeping blackness around his line of vision. The tip was soaked in both his blood and the poison of the enemy.

Before he knew what was happening, he was falling.

Amaril jerked awake. Whipping his head back and forth to check for enemies, he visibly relaxed and loosened his death grip on the hilt of his sword. He had never had such a vivid dream of death, especially his own. It had been disturbing.

Leaning against one of the many trees that circled their campsite, he tried to relax. He watched over the dark elf's sleep that night, and praised the Valar when the sun finally rose over the horizon.
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: October 28, 2003 03:36
[Very nice Legolas! Don't think I can beat that :blush:]

Siphon had said nothing throughout the obvious disturbed state of Amaril's sleep. When the fair head had jurked up in full awakeness, he had announced the Wargn's turn to take up sleep for the night. The dark elf did not argue, he was tired and worn. With a gentle good night he laid down in his bedroll and slipped into sleep.

When his breathing eased and his thoughts were less chaotic, dreams started to make their way into his head.

He found himself standing in an open field, stained in the blood of himself and others. A great shadow loomed over them, its death cry ringing out over his head. He heard a voice, Amaril's, call out to him form the throng. Siphon turned his head to see his companion running toward him, fighting his way through the multitude to get to him.

He heard then as well the whip of arrows being loosed from their bows and soaring over their heads. One narrowly missed Siphon's temple area. As they flew past he caught the distinct scent of a strong poison. The arrows were poisoned! Siphon turned his head toward his companion to call out in warning, but it was too late. An arrow had found a small, impossible gap in the otherwise impermeable armor he wore.

The wargn cursed everything, above all himself, as he watched his friend fall to the ground. The poison would not kill him immediately, but the elf was now terribly vulnerable. Siphon fought the throngs to get to Amaril with a ferocity that threatened the malice of the beast soaring over their heads. He dared all of the abyss and its creatures to come at him and try to stop him. Try to throw him down in this mad fit of rage.

But alas none did. He reached Amaril to find the Northdell pale and chilled, but not dead. Not yet. He wrappd his bloodied hand around Amaril's and held it tight. The grip was frail, but still there, and each knew that their companion was still with them.

Suddenly darkness consumed them both as the abomination in the sky hovered over them both. A bright flash and Sipon knew that dawn had approached, and it was time for he and his companion to finish their journey to Gondor. If it was possible, he would speak with the king alone about the ships leaving to the west.

Surely they would return for Amaril.
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: November 01, 2003 10:32
The morning was quiet and tense. Amaril was still quite disturbed over his nightmare, though now that the sun was up, he felt like an elfling. Why should he take the dream seriously? It was just the product of his thoughts from the last couple of days. Though he had not thought that he could dream such a real dragon out of thin air. He remembered stories from his childhood about dragons roaming Middle Earth, but he had never taken then seriously.

He was starting to rethink his state of mind about following Siphon to Gondor.

Though, perhaps, it was not the image of the dragon that had crawled under the elf's skin, but the image of his death. When training as a novice in Lórien, he had been taught to accept that one day he might not come back from a scouting party, or an ambush. It had been engrained into his skull and he had thought nothing of it then.

Now with his time coming to a close upon Middle Earth, he was finally realizing that immortality did not mean invincibility.

One look at Siphon's face that morning told Amaril he thought the exact same thing. He had dreamed of the same thing. It could not have been a coincidence. His gooseflesh prickled as he collected his things together.

Berethon had been grazing in the grass when the elf approached and mounted him. The horse realized that he might actually get to run today and pranced about impatiently for his master's companion. Siphon eyed the horse and then Amaril before accepting the ride to Gondor on horseback.

They made good time across the plains of Gondor. They were not far from Minas Tirith when Amaril spotted riders heading from the great city. Amaril stopped Berethon on the crest of a large hill as he and Siphon waited for news from within the great city.

Dust kicked up behind the riders before they too climbed the hill to meet them. Siphon jumped from the horse's back as the Captain did the same.

'Greetings, man of Gondor,' the dark elf started. 'What news from King Elessar?'

'Greetings, Master elf. Tell me, are you the one the king has been expecting?'

'Aye,' Siphon answered, nodding his head. 'My companion and I were waylaid in a town not far from here. We have been rushed to meet with your king.'

'Then you shall pass the gates without question.' The Captain then mounted his horse again. 'A scout has been sent back to relay the message. You should be able to get through quickly.'

The captain then summoned his riders and they bounded down the hill. They headed south, no doubt recruiting warriors, Amaril thought. Siphon glanced at his companion before climbing upon the back of Berethon. They were off, heading for the city in the distance.
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: November 03, 2003 01:42
Both Amaril and Siphon approached the king's hall with slight trepidation and intimidation. The halls were tall with a roof and pillars looming high over their noble heads. Both of the elf's brows raised high in amazement at the sight, impressed that the race of men could create such beauty.

'Greetings!' cried a noble voice. Both eyes turned to regard the source. King Elessar, a noble crown upon his brow and a gleam of a new light in his eyes, stepped down from his throne and spread wide his arms in welcoming embrace.

Amaril knew the king well enough to accept, but Siphon seemed rather awkward when being hugged by a man he barely knew. The Wargn took it stoically, however, and bowed respectfully afterward.

'You called for my services.' Siphon reminded the king after a few moments of casual chattering.

'Ah yes.' Elessar considered Amaril curiously. 'Who is this?'

'A friend of mine.' Siphon smiled, eager to introduce his companion. 'A very close and old companion of mine. Amaril of Lorien!'

The king took Amaril's hand this time and shook it. 'Any who travel with this one must have a strong appetite for trouble.' he replied to the Northdell. Elessar chuckled lightly, as did Amaril. The blue eyes turned questioningly to Siphon who, the elf wondered, may have been blushing under that shadowy skin of his.

'Down to business, then!' Elessar stated after a moment. They began walking through the long corridors of Minas Tirith. Each of them were a noble sight to passers by. The Lorien Elf, the Dark Elf, and the King of Gondor each side by side strolling through the halls and walkways. 'I trust your trip went well?'

'If you count being attacked by an assassin and meeting up with a rather moody elf from Rivendell well, then yes, it was perfect!' Siphon retorted in an uncharacteristically sarcastic manner.

Elessar frowned and turned his eyes upon them. 'You were attacked?'

'An assassin.' Amaril repeated Siphon's words.

Elessar's frown deeped. He turned on his heel and continued on, the two elves following behind.

'This is not good.' The king muttered, seemingly to himself. 'If they have already been following your movements...' he trailed off, leaving Siphon frusturated and Amaril confused.

'What?' the Wargn asked after a while.

'If they have found you this far....then there is little I can do in my power to shield you from their attacks...'

'What do you mean?' Siphon fumed. It was Amaril's turn to frown now.

'Strange things are happening once again in Middle Earth, my friend.' Elessar went on. They had ceased their walking and stood in a triangular formation so that each could see the other two without difficulty. 'The tactics of typical enemies is to survey border patrols. Look for approaching allies. However, they had you before the Gap of Rohan. If such is the case, then his sights are specifically focused on you.'

'So what does that mean?' Amaril asked in a stern demeanor.

'I am afraid that we cannot help you. Gondor, in her weakened state can provide little security for you Siphon Anorion.' The king bowed his head. 'I am sorry. If you wish, then you need not take part in this war. But there is nothing Gondor can do for you.' With that Elessar turned and started off, but Siphon reached for his arm and pulled him back. The motion was so swift that both Amaril and Elessar regarded the dark elf with slight trepidation.

'If you cannot help me, then there is one thing I ask of you. What has happened to the ships to Valinor? Why have they ceased sailing back?'

Elessar raised an eyebrow. 'Why do you wish to know? You could never journey to the Grey Havens! You are a Wargn!'

'I do not ask in concern for myself!' Siphon glanced toward Amaril and then back at the king. 'Do you have answers?'

Elessar released himself from the Wargn's grip, frowning and looking slightly perturbed.

'I can find something for you.' He turned and left them then.
~*~
The two elves stayed where king Elessar had left them, each staring after him till he had disappeared from sight.

'If he cannot offer my protection,' Siphon stated sternly so as to hide his anger at a broken promise from a slovenly monarch, 'then I would not have you continue on with me. It is too dangerous and I would not risk your life. If anyone can call back the ships, it is him. I would advise you leave before tihs war escalates and you find yourself trapped.'

With that, Siphon started off.
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: November 03, 2003 02:14
Amaril clenched his hands into fists. He understood the reasoning behind King Elessar's taking back his promise. It seemed logical enough, and he trusted the King's wisdom. But still it angered him. His friend was never safe, even in the halls of the King.

He doubted the King had any information on the ships at the Grey Havens though. If they were halted, then he would not have had any information disclosed to him, a King among men. They had no reason to know about the departure of the Elves.

And what was worse, his friend was pushing him away. Urging him to go to the Grey Havens and leave behind the world that he had always known to travel to an unknown destination. He suddenly felt very small compared to the Citadel he was standing in. He watched Siphon walk in the direction of Elessar.

Shaking his head, he walked down the hall opposite. War was approaching the land, he was sure. He had seen enough battles to last many life times of men. He did not want to see more blood shed. He stepped up to a window, and looked out towards the great city of Minas Tirith.

Many people - man, woman and child alike - mingled about the streets, some selling their wares, others walking to some destination, dragging unconcerned children behind them. Amaril sighed and turned away. These people did not know what was coming for them. He shuddered as he remembered his dream from last night.

The sight of the dragon swooping down came to his mind. The image was so real that Amaril could almost feel the wings of the beast beating the air away as it swept back up into the clouds. He shook his head and decided to catch up with Siphon.

He felt that if he stayed, he would condemn himself to a gruesome death. But if Siphon was fighting, then Amaril would fight beside him.
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: November 03, 2003 02:31
Siphon followed Elessar stealthily, stalking the man's shadow as a dark cloud would the sun in the sky. King Elessar, or Aragorn as he was more commonly referred to by his people, was a respectable man, and Siphon realized this. He did not care about himself, but demanded answers about the departing ships of Valinor.

When at last stopped his tenacious steps, he turned and smiled knowingly. 'Just because I cannot see you does not mean I do not know you are following me.'

Siphon stepped from the shadows, surprising those around him.

'You have answers, despite what you told me and my companion back there. You know something. You must. The elves may not tell you all, but surely the Grey Pilgrim of these lands would, though Grey he may be no more.'

Aragorn smiled, bowing his head slightly. 'You know more than you should, and reveal less than that, Siphon of the lower realms.'

'I know what I must to survive and keep those that I care about alive.'

'Like your companion?' Siphon frowned. Aragorn nodded, then smiled sadly. 'I have hit a sensitive spot I see.'

'This does not concern Amaril.' Siphon argued.

'Oh but it does,' Aragorn retorted. 'You, a Wargn, a demonic personification of the elves of our lands, would not be allowed in the Grey Havens.'

'A fate I do not mourn.' Siphon answered truthfully.

'No, you do not. But your friend, whom you know belongs on the other side can now not cross because he has chosen to stay with you instead.' Siphon moved to argue, but stopped abruptly. The king had him in a verbal cage. He could not fight back, for it was true. 'Your guilt angers you, so you push your companion away in hopes that he will abandon you and return to those shores.'

'How can he if he cannot pass?' Siphon argued.

'Because you have hope that there is still time.' Siphon frowned. He cursed beneath his breath, but knew also that it was true. The king's smile grew. 'You are waisting your time, I fear, with trying to get him to abandon you.' Elessar approached the Wargn and placed a hand on his shoulder. 'But I will do what I can to call one ship back for your friend.' Siphon nodded. Elessar stood in silent consideration of the figure before him for a time, before at last he asked, 'And what will you do with yourself afterward?'

Siphon thought, though he did not have to for long. 'I will fight in this war regardless of the risk to myself.' At last a smile came to the stoic features of the Wargn. 'I have been waiting for a venture for many years. It seems this is it.'

'This is no meager playful venture.' Aragorn stated. 'This is a war!'

Siphon shrugged. 'At least it is some excitement.' He then laughed and left the room.
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: November 03, 2003 03:05
Amaril rounded a bend in the hallway and spotted Siphon walking down the hall smiling. 'He must have found some sort of amusement while I was gone,' the elf thought as he waited for his friend to see him. After the dark elf walked past him and kept going, Amaril frowned and stepped up beside the Wargn and kept pace.

'The King has verified the war,' Siphon said after a short pause. He was not startled by his friend's sudden appearance.

Amaril nodded. 'I figured as such.'

'He also promised to see what he could do about calling back one more ship for you, my friend. Amaril eyed him curiously.

'The King has promised many things to you in the past, mellon nîn,' he reminded the dark elf. 'How can you be sure that he will keep this one?'

Siphon shook his head. He knew it was hard for the light elf to trust so willingly, but this was King Elessar. He would not keep empty promises. 'He has no reason not to.'

'Even if he had that kind of power, I would not go.' Amaril looked away towards the many tapestries that lined the hall.

'Why would you refuse an offer to leave? I know you want to travel to Valinor. I see it in your eyes. Perhaps before the war starts, one will-'

The Northdell suddenly rounded on his friend. 'I know you mean well, friend.' He eyed the hall and switched to Elvish. 'There is a war upon us, and I know you will be fighting in it. I have seen-' Amaril stopped short. He did not possess foresight. How could he be sure?

'And so have I,' Siphon shot back. 'I know what will happen if you should stay and fight.' The light elf visibly flinched. He saw himself then, on the ground, bleeding. Slowly giving way to death. It was a terrible thing to witness, but an even worse thing to experience.

Siphon continued. 'If you leave, then I will not have to say good bye grasping your cold, dead hand.' Amaril looked up.

'I will not run away.'
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: November 03, 2003 03:19
Siphon frowned.

'I am not asking you to run. This is not cowardice my friend, this is wisdom.' He took a breath, then reflected upon what he had heard moments ago. 'What have you seen?'

It was Amaril's turn to frown.

'Nothing. Forget I said anything at all.' He turned, but Amaril caught his shoulder in a movement similar to his clutch on Elessar moments ago.

'I will not so easily forget it when I see such sadness and fear in your eyes. I would not so easily dismiss this, least of all from you.'

Amaril sighed, and together they started walking back to the main hall. They would need somewhere to stay the night, and would have to leave their contact information for the king should he need to speak with them.

'I saw as I slept in the pastures of Rohan a great war. Far to the north. Further than the wild forests of Mirkwood and the treacherous Iron Mountains. We fought a hoard of ravenous monsters, perhaps orks and uruks, perhaps something else. Men were dying all around, and above my head loomed a great beast that I could not see.' Siphon's face was grave, though he retained any signs of emotion. That fact made the relaying of Amaril's tale much easier for him. 'I saw you in the distance, and a great warrior dressed in black armor yards away. I tried to get to you, but a volley of arrows flew at me and...I went down...that was all I knew.'

He went silent, not daring to turn his eyes to face the Wargn. 'It is ridiculous I know, but-'

'No!' Siphon stated sternly. 'Not at all.'

The light elf raised an eyebrow at his companion's peculiar behavior.

'No?'

'No. Because I had a similar dream.'
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: November 03, 2003 03:44
Amaril stopped and stared at his friend. 'Because I had a similar dream.' It made him shudder. His friend just confirmed what he thought to be true. But what could it have meant?

'What did you see?' he asked the Wargn.

'I saw you. You tried to warn me about something. I was in the thick of battle.' The dark elf frowned. 'I remember seeing you wave and point at something, but I could not comprehend what you were saying. It was loud, and yet I could not hear anything. There were men all around us. And then at the last moment, I saw the arrows. I was nearly hit by one, but I ducked at the last moment.'

'But I was not so lucky...'

Siphon shook his head. 'No. You were pierced. I only realized a short time before that, that the arrows were dipped in a mysterious poison. I saw your eyes widen, and fall to the ground gripping your chest. I could not be sure if you were even still alive, but I fought to your side.'

Amaril walked back towards the window at the end of the hall. He put his arms on the sill and leaned up against it. He knew now that his dream was more than an overworked imagination.

'You lay there, in a pool of blood, unmoving, barely responsive. I took your hand in mine, it was sticky and warm with your blood. I thought for sure that you had already left this world, but then I felt it. A faint pressure. The arrow had inflicted much damage, but I feared the poison more. You were still with me, but you faded before my very eyes.

'Then I saw the beast. The dragon circled about our heads and it shrieked as it flew back towards the clouds.'

'That was all?'

Siphon concentrated, but shook his head. 'That was all I saw. It did not make much sense then, as I thought for sure you would leave before the first battle. Now, I'm not so sure. You seem intent on staying.'

Amaril said nothing for a little while, then nodded his head solemnly. 'You are correct. I do not plan on leaving anytime soon.'

Siphon sighed and leaned against the wall next to his friend. 'Why? Why not just leave this place of endless fighting?'

'Because, I still have a sense of loyalty.' Amaril breathed heavily and then stood. 'As long as you fight, then I fight with you. It has always been that way, and it always shall be.'
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: November 03, 2003 03:59
Siphon smiled. The great war he had been fighting with both himself and Amaril had at last come to an end.

'I cannot fight this if you are so willing to stand with me, mellon nin.' he smiled. His eyes glistened when they met the small rays of light the sun cast where they stood, though the elf did not wince at it. 'I would be honored to have you at my side during these trying times.'

Amaril chuckled and placed a hand on each of Siphon's shoulders. 'You will find of the war between us and the war of the dragon, the latter will be the easier of the two.'

Siphon laughed. It was a wholehearted laugh that eased the dark elf's inner turmoil he had been feeling since they had first met on the road those many days ago.

'I am sure you are right, mellon nin.' Siphon smiled. Both pairs of eyes were glistening. To hide that fact, one pulled the other into a brotherly embrace for long moments.

~*~

That night they stayed in an inn near the king's magnificent abode. The price was a little high, but worth it. The comfort and promised safety that was lacking at the last inn set both of their minds at ease.

'Goodnight,' Amaril yawned from his bed in one corner of the room.

'Goodnight,' Siphon responded, blowing out the candle, their only light source in the room, enveloping the pair in darkness. Each lay silently in his own bed, and awaited what dreams would come to them.

Image

[Edited on 4/11/2003 by PotbellyHairyfoot]
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: November 08, 2003 05:56
Even though Amaril was exhausted from the last few days, his body would not relax. The bed and pillow were comfortable and warm, yet he did not feel them. He glanced over and noticed that Siphon had fallen asleep already.

'Because he's smart,' Amaril thought to himself. He sat up in his bed and glanced out the window. Even though it was late in the season for rain, the heavens had opened up and showered the city with a gentle shower. The rain tapped against the window as the window blew gently. It was comforting to listen to, but Amaril found comfort in little these days.

Shaking his head, he got up from underneath the sheets and threw his cloak about his shoulders. Walking quietly so not to disturb his companion, he exited the room and made his way downstairs. The inn they had chosen was quiet, and the small bar was deserted when it should have been bustling with activity.

He let himself out, stepping lightly out into the rain. It greeted him with a blast of wind to his face, and he shivered, though he was not cold. Gondor was a strange city, that was true. Though the hour was not late, most of the inhabitants were in bed.

Frowning, Amaril gathered his cloak and wrapped it around his form, hunching over and appearing to be another man walking the streets. 'I must seem ridiculous,' he thought. 'For there is no man up at this hour. Only an elf with a severe case of insomnia.'

He breathed easier outdoors and he walked on, relaxing ever so much. Only the rain joined him that night.
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: November 08, 2003 06:40
Though he was indeed alone, Amaril did not find loneliness one of his companions. The rain, though cold, did not chill him or bother him at all, and the darkness was welcome to allow prying eyes from street side homes a less direct view of the seemingly no good prowler in Gondor's streets that night.

What beauty the night holds. The elf thought. His companion had always been a lover of the night, where shadows hid his abnormal appearance from others. Now, Amaril being able to truly enjoy the invisible magic of the night, could see why.

The moon was full, amazingly. It cast more light than the elf had been prepared to welcome, but he found that it didn't really bother him that much. The eyes of humans were weak compared to his own, and even with such brilliance it would be unlikely any would catch him before he could move to a darker area of the streets where they would only lose him once more.

The rain lessened a bit as he hit the lesser populated streets of Gondor. He wondered if it were wide to journey alone on such destitue and lonley roads. Surely there were muggers waiting for the unweary traveller to pass by, and surely less than savory things waiting in alleys. Amaril took comfort that he had brought a small dagger with him and continued on. He needed the quiet of the night to calm his thoughts.

Onward he went until the darkness made him uneasy. Wrapping his cloak tighter about his shoulders, he moved onward still. His steps were soundless on the hard streets, and he found the stifling silence disconcerting. With a sudden ethereal chill running down his back, Amaril turned.

Only to find someone there behind him.

"What do you want?" The elf choked, leaping back. How could this man, obviously human, have snuck up behind him like this? Amaril studied the man closely, and realized that he was no man, but something else.

"I want nothing." He responded. His voice was harsh, croaking, and quick. "I bring warning, elf of Lorien."

"How did you-" but Amaril trailed off. Surely his garb made it obvious to a more skilled traveller that he wore the common cloth of a Lorien elf. "I have no interest in street side prophesies for a few coins." Amaril warned. "If it is money you want-"

"I care little for material worths." the man stated honestly.

"What is it then?"

The man was now evidently perturbed. It was hard to see his face in the shadows, but Amaril could see that he had a grey beard, shortly cut. His eyes were not wide, but surely alert, and they seemed to delve deep into the elf's own as though reading his mind, as if it were no more than an open book.

"I bring you warning, elf of Lorien, and I ask you heed my words."

"Who are you?" The elf interjected.

"I am all that you need to know that I am." Amaril said nothing, allowing the man to continue. His patience was obviously short. "A war is coming. A great war that may rival the severity of the War of the Ring. What lies in the north few can say, and fewer still know enough to assist you and your companion."

"My companion? You know I am travelling with a companion?"

"I do." The man corroborated. "For I have seen him in my vision. The man that hunts your companion is the man who wields the power to command the dragon. This I have seen."

"Indeed." The elf did not try to hide his skepticism.

"You friend will go to fight this war. You, I presume, will go with him?" Amaril nodded. "This is not wise."

"Why?"

"As two you will march, but one alone will return."

The purpose of Amaril's walk had been to evade the memories of that horrific nightmare. Now, on this night, it had come to haunt him in the physical form. "You believe you have forseen the fate of the one that will not return." The man continued. It was not a question. Amaril noted this and frowned.

"It was a dream. A dream and-"

"Dreams are often signs of a future to come,"

"Or fears," Amaril reminded.

"Perhaps. But in this case, I would not think it so, master elf. Do not trust to the exactness of dreams, for they will not always reveal the truth in full. You have seen death, and that is certain, but will it truly be yours? Or have you just seen that death will indeed come to one of you?"

Amari frowned. "You are saying that though I saw myself die, it may not be so?" The man nodded. "Siphon will die?"

The man raised a hand. "I did not say that." He stated. "But do not think it death is your promised fate."

Amaril frowned. This night had not turned out to be so peaceful after all. "Why do you tell me this?"

"A message, from Gandalf the white." Amaril raised his eyes just in time to see the man smile wide. With that, he stepped into the shadows behind him. Before Amaril could reach to pull him back, to ask more questions, the man was gone.
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: November 10, 2003 03:22
He had not been as alone as he had thought previously. The old man had creeped up behind him, an elf no less, and had given him a strange message supposedly from Gandalf the White. The rain came down harder now than it had previously, and Amaril was now soaked to the skin. But it was not that that made his skin crawl or his flesh to shiver violently. To say that he was disturbed would be an understatement.

The message had been vague at best, warning Amaril that his death might not have been what it had seemed. But what did that mean? That he was not meant to take an arrow to the heart? That perhaps his friend would take one instead? His gooseflesh crawled at the thought.

His paranoia had increased a hundred fold, and he kept glancing behind him, half expecting the old man to come out of the shadows and kill him. But he never showed his face again. The old man was an odd character, stooped and his short white beard poked out from beneath his hood. He would probably never forget him, as long as the elf lived.

Holding his dagger in his hand, he made his way back to the inn. He needed to change out of his wet clothes and get into something that was less uncomfortable before trying to solve the mystery set before him. It infuriated him how vague Mithrandir could be at times. He had known him for a long time, for as long as he has been alive, and he never failed to stump Amaril with his nonsensical suggestions and information.

A war is coming. A great war that may rival the severity of the War of the Ring. The old man's words came back to him like a great wall of water. It chilled him to the bone to think of this war to rival the War of the Ring. He remembered those dark times, when he would scout out huge parties of orcs. He lost many friends in that war. He did not think he would survive losing another to this war.

As two you will march, but one alone will return. The implications of Gandalf's words disturbed him even more now that he was hearing them in his head. He clenched his hand around the hilt of his dagger as he sped his walking up. That would not happen. They would both walk off that battle field. He promised that to himself, even though he knew that it would not be the case. His dream has been too real to brush off as nonsense.

Do not think it death is your promised fate. 'Then what is my promised fate?' Amaril thought as he saw the inn up ahead of him. 'To live a life of sorrow and pain over a friend's premature leave of this world?'

'No, that will not be my fate, for I would die long before I would see the passing of another age.' And that night, Amaril made a promise, that he would not see his friend greet death on the field of war. Amaril did not know his fate, but he knew it would not be long before he found out.

[Edited on 11/11/2003 by Legolas{Greenleaf}]
Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: November 10, 2003 03:46
Amaril, his mind still buzzing violently, stepped inside the inn. The sudden relief from the rain awoke the elf slightly to his surroundings. Not so many eyes fell in his direction without the Wargn at his side, and for the first fact he was grateful. Whether his companion was awake or not, the elf did not know, but he nevertheless made his way to their room in hopes of catching up on some sleep.

As he entered the room, he was overwhelmed slightly by the darkness, but as his eyes adjusted the full moon gave away enough to tell him that Siphon was not in his bed.

Darkness surrounding him, he was able to make out a still figure in one of the chairs beside the dying embers of the fire.

"You're awake." Amaril observed.

"Where have you been?" Siphon asked curiously.

"Out and about. Couldn't sleep. Planning on catching up on that now, though." He smiled, trying to cover the worry that he knew was plainly worn upon his countenance. Siphon was not fooled. The Wargn sighed as his friend moved to his own bed. This caught the elf's attention, and he turned, frowning, to meet his friend's concerned gaze. "What is it?"

"You're not telling me something." The elf observed. "I can see that. It's as plain as the sun in the sky." he looked away. "I won't ask what it is, because I don't think you'll answer me." he sighed and stood. "I'm going downstairs. If you change your mind, let me know. If not...I'll not say another word about it."

With that the wargn left his companion to rest and think, though he very much doubted that both would come at once.
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[Edited on 11/11/2003 by maeghin]
Legolas{Greenleaf}
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: December 22, 2003 06:46
'You're not telling me something,' stated the Wargn. Siphon always knew when to state the obvious and when to keep silent. It was obvious that Amaril had encountered somthing - or someone - on his midnight excursion through the white city. 'I won't ask what it is, because I don't think you'll answer me.' And with that he stood and made his exit, saying that he would be downstairs if Amaril wanted to talk.

Amaril had known that his answer to Siphon's earlier question had been vague. The elf brought his hands to his face and uncharacteristically rubbed his eyes drowsily. The night had been tiring, his head was still spinning from the information he had been given, and his encounter with the strange man had sent shivers down his spine. He didn't know if he had the energy to answer Siphon's questions or be able to meet the dark elf's powerful gaze.

Taking off his cloak, he draped the soaked rag across the back of a wooden chair near the cooling embers of the fire. He doubted it would dry overnight, but he thought that it did not make much difference. Stoking the wood to start the fire again, he sat down in another chair and stared at the flames. They licked at the wood, eating it away until nothing was left but charred remains.

Frowning, Amaril understood that if he were to march out onto that battle field, he would not be coming back. He felt it in his bones. The dream he had had was too real to swat off like an annoying fly. He had known for sure that it was himself that had been hit with that stray arrow. Siphon had been blurry in the vision, but his dark skin contrasted sharply with the men of Gondor.

Shaking his head and blinking sleep away from his eyes, he wished with all his heart that Mithrandir was still with them on this Middle-Earth. His wisdom and guidance would be invaluable. He closed his eyes and envisioned the sea. The white foam swept across the sand as it met land, barely touching the grains as it departed again.

Amaril opened his eyes and he thought he could hear the cry of a gull in his mind. A tear escaped his notice and wet his cheek. He stood shakily and dropped his exhausted body back into his bed. Letting his eyes glaze over, he willed himself to forget the war for a few hours. That night he dreamt of the sea, and of the people that had left him behind to answer the cry of that gull.
Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: December 22, 2003 03:10
Siphon sat at the bar with his posture slumped. He looked like a beaten wonderer, and indeed he may have been. His eyes seemed dulled by time, age, thought and guilt, and the latter also seemed an invisible burden upon his shoulders, perhaps the reason he was slumped over. No one could tell. No one inquired. He looked like one who would rather be left alone, and that was what happened.

'Fool.' he whispered after a few moments of gently sipping ale. Those nearby either didn't hear or didn't care, and once again the Wärgn preferred it that way. 'You're a damn fool.' he drained the tankard then in one gulp and pulled his travelling cloak over his shoulders.

Whether the rain had stopped he did not care. He needed to think, and he couldn't do it in the din of that wormhole of tavern.

As he stepped into the night air and light drizzle, Siphon sighed in relief. He'd always loved the rain, though he could never explain why. The sound, the smell, the sight, and the feel of it was just...magical to him.

A chill air caressed his exposed skin and he shuddered. 'So much for that dream.' he laughed at himself and went forward into the night.
~*~
The streets never changed really, no matter what part of the city you were in. The first "layer" looked just like the fifth and sixth, especially in this hopeless night.

With a sigh he cast his eyes to the stars, but found that few heavenly bodies glimmered down upon the city that night. 'It seems as if all things are growing farther and farther away from us.' he stated with a sad chuckle. 'All things do not last.' he continued back toward the tavern, realizing he had nowhere else to go. 'But I had hoped that some things would.'

Siphon continued on, but as his eyes left the cobblestone road beneath his feet, he found his path stopped by a rather mysterious character.
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: December 22, 2003 04:22
Siphon would not have admitted it, but he felt ready to jump out of his dark skin when he had looked up to meet a mysterious man standing right in front of him. He wished he had brought his scimitars with him, as he didn't know if the man was a threat or not. At closer inspection of the intruder, Siphon noticed that he had a grey beard, though his eyes were hidden under a wide brimmed hat. He leaned heavily on an old walking stick that seemed as old as Amaril was.

Blinking away the water that had collected on his light eyelashes, he cocked his head to the side, and relaxing his body only slightly. He thought that if he seemed nonchalant, the man would not know what would be coming if he should try and rob him. The dark elf only snorted a little as he knew that his fighting capabilities could outmatch any mortal man.

'Good evening, young elf,' greeted the man. His voice was scratchy, giving away his age. He was older and it showed clearliy in his shoulders as they drooped.

'It surely is,' Siphon answered warily, much as Amaril had done. 'Now if you'll excuse me.' And with that, he brushed past the old man's travel worn grey rags. He had come to think, not be occupied with strange men walking about in the rain.

'I have news for you, Siphon of Anorien,' said the old man, as Siphon walked away. 'It would be wise to hear what this ancient has to say.'

Stopping dead in his tracks, the dark elf turned on his heel. Staring intently at the man, he tilted his head to indicate that he wanted to hear more.
-------------------------------------------
The sea was cool and yet warm to Amaril as he walked along the sandy shore. A smile was evident upon his face as he enjoyed the fine day. The gulls overhead cried as they circled in the clear blue sky. Amaril stopped his meandering feet and closed his eyes. He breathed deep the salty sea air and knew of nothing more he would like to do than to be where he was at that moment.

He opened his eyes when he heard wood hit wood, and blinked a few times. Sleep quickly stole away from him to reveal that he was not on a beach, but in the soft bed of the inn he was staying at. Looking around, he spotted Siphon, dripping wet and walking calmy towards the fire place.

He cast his hood back after stroking the wood once more, and in his eyes there was a glint of anger.

Amaril sighed and lay back down. No sense in getting up and greeting his friend when he saw that he had done something to anger him. He knew when he had crossed Siphon by the way he seemed to glare daggers at him.

'I took a little walk,' Siphon started.

Amaril glanced up at the Wargn. 'I see that,' glancing at his cloak that still dripped all over the wooden planks.

'I met someone in the streets.'

The light elf opened his eyes again, and looked Siphon into the face. 'What did he look like?'

'An old man, haggard, wearing clothes that looked and smelled like they were as old as he was.'

'What did he say?'

'It was more like what he did not mention that upset me. He sounded more like a harbinger of doom, than a kind old man.'

Raising his eyebrows, Amaril sat up in bed again. 'Oh really?' the elf questioned. He did not want to let on that he had met this man before, but he could not hide it from Siphon for long.

'He said he knew you.'
Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: December 23, 2003 12:13
Amaril's eyebrows raised.

'Did he now?' he asked, trying to sound surprised. Siphon nodded, though there was a mysterious glow about the amber eyes that set the elf off. 'Did he say anything else?'

'He said plenty.' Siphon stated shortly. Amaril frowned.

'Elaborate.'

'I'd rather not.'

Amaril's eyes bore into the Wärgn, though with hardly the affect he might have desired at that moment. Siphon returned the glare for a few moments then retired to bed. Or tried. Amaril, taking a leaf from his childhood book, tore from his own bed and leapt atop the Wärgn's.

'What are you doing!?!' the dark elf shrieked. 'Have you gone mad?'

The elf stood over him with a menacing glare, then stepped from the bed to the floor with a sigh.

'Are you going to tell me what the man in white told you?'

'That depends on if my ribs are now broken or just bruised.' the elf retorted, sitting up while favoring his side.

'My apologies, but I would like to know.'

Siphon sighed, after a few more moments of holding his ribs he let his eyes drop to the floor. Thin silver locks fell over his face, giving him an almost ethereal appearance. The amber eyes were closed in painful recollection, and his breathing had eased to nothing more than the echoing whisper of the wind outside their window.

'He said to be forewarned.' Siphon started, not meeting his friend's gaze. 'That this war would be my bane.' Amaril folded his legs before him upon his own bed, eyeing his companion uneasily. 'He said that upon the outbreak of this war, either myself or one I traveled with would not return.'

It was at that moment, when silence filled the room, Amaril felt the unfamiliar cold breath of icy death down his neck. Could he tell Amaril that it was his death that Gandalf the White had predicted? Could he tell his friend that he was willingly, and knowingly, marching to his death?

No. Amaril decided that without a second thought. Siphon's shoulders were already laden with the guilt of Amaril's inability to reach the Grey Havens. To tell his friend that he was now marching beside him, toward knowing death, would be impossible. Siphon would no doubt steal away in the night, lead the elf on the wrong trail purposely, then take the road to war alone.

Amaril would not allow it to happen. With a mischevious smile he turned his gaze to the forlorn expression of Siphon and chuckled lightly, hoping that his friend would not hear the hollowness of it.

'Worry not, Siphon of Anorion.' he annonced with a wink. 'I fear death no more than you. But we are too wise and stubborn to find our end in meager warfare.'

Yet as Amaril lay his head down upon his pillow, he noted that Siphon's expression had not changed. There was something else he had not mentioned. Frowning, he turned over to face the window.

'Do not be angry with me for keeping my secrets.' Siphon whispered. 'You have yours, and I have mine. There are some things that just cannot be shared, even between the best of friends.'
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: December 23, 2003 06:17
By the time the two weary friends had risen in the morning, the sun had climbed high up in the sky. Amaril had not gotten much rest after his tense conversation with Siphon. The Wargn's last words had made too much of an impact on him. He shook his head and tried to clear it. As much as he liked visiting the White City, he could not shake the drowsiness that clouded his thinking.

He rubbed his eyes when Siphon turned to stare at yet another map of the land. They had been at this for hours and there was no end in sight that the light elf could see. They had met the King when they had left the inn - though not without breakfast. Elessar had then ushered the two into his private study, where he had talked to them about the coming storm. Amaril could sense uneasiness in the wind, and knew that war would break upon them soon.

Sighing, he had resigned himself to stand behind the dark elf and keep silent. Though he was a March Warden of Lórien, his talents were better used on the field of battle than at mapping a strategy for attack. It was many of his downfalls, or so he had been told by his masters when he was but a novice.

'If we attack from this side and this side, we may get the upperhand before the battle becomes too drawn out," King Elessar pointed out as he rubbed his chin. Frowning and looking down, Amaril's eyes widened at the amount of land they were looking at.

'Forgive me for speaking out of turn, my Lord,' he said. 'But that would take a good amount of able-bodied soldiers. Even Minas Tirith cannot have that size of an army.'

Elessar nodded, and sighed. 'That is one of the downfalls of this plan. We do not have the arms to hold back this threat.'

Siphon looked up and sent the light elf a piercing glare. He knew that their plan would most likely fail. Everyone in the room did. That did not give the elf the right to bring down the King's hopes, false as they were. Glaring back, Amaril continued.

'If you called aid from Rohan, surely the horse lords would answer.'

'They lost many of their kin and horses in the War of the Ring. Their armies are even less than ours are.' Elessar sat heavily in a chair near the table.

'What of some of the Elven Realms? Surely they can aid us in this battle," Siphon spoke up.

Shaking his head, Amaril answered, 'Lórien is all but empty. Even if some of the Elves answered the call of duty, they would be loathe to come and risk losing a chance at Valinor.'

'Rivendell was emptying even before the War had started,' stated the King idly. He sat looking out the window and his eyes took in the rare flight of a lone seagull. 'Legolas will answer.'

Amaril frowned and turned his head. 'I thought he had left months ago to answer the call of the sea.' In truth, he had not heard news from his old friend in a very long time, and had deduced that he had left for the Undying Lands.

'Nay, he took a host of his people and set a colony up in Southern Ithilien.' Standing, the King nodded. 'He will answer. And so will the dwarves. We still have hope.'

Siphon nodded, and sat down when the King stood. He was tired from the events of last night and felt the urge to close his eyes in a resting sleep when Amaril started to speak.

'A village burns.'

Both the King and the Wargn crowded around the window of the room to spot what the light elf had only seconds ago. A great black cloud of smoke rising from beyond a hill far to the south. Suddenly there was a nervous rap on the door and in came a haggard looking guard. He was obviously in a state of shock, for he was young yet and had not seen the cruelty of battle.

'My King, we've been attacked.'
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