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Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: December 23, 2003 06:56
'My lord, I can ride out to help your men assess damage. Care for wounded!' Siphon stated as the young guard was taken away for care. Elessar raised a skeptical eyebrow.

'We cannot afford to lose those learned in war. Should there be more waiting-'

'There are none waiting.' came a guard from the hall. 'The
young man stated that all had fled after the burning.'

'Like the cowards they are.' Siphon muttered beneath his breath. 'I will ride out with your men lord, if you would have me, to assist where I can.'

Elessar sighed and looked to Amaril.

'And of your friend? Are you to abandon him to my company alone?'

Siphon glanced at Amaril, who simply nodded his head, though there was no eye contact involved betweem them.

'He minds not, my lord.'

'Then ride out.' Elessar stated with a wave of his hand. 'Ride out and do what you will, but I ask you this. Look for a rider from the south, for his eyes that are fairer than all others will see that Gondor is burning, and he will ride swiftly to find where he is needed.'

'I will look for this rider my lord.' Siphon bowed and left them in the hall. Amaril's eyes watched as a white horse with a black rider went out from the walls of Minas Tirith, and rode where the smokestacks rose.

~*~

'Such devestation.' said a soldier at Siphon's back. The Wärgn said naught, but led his horse afoot through the rubble to find what he might.

Hours passed with few survivors to be shown for their work. Siphon's hands were bloody and bruised from the digging and moving of heavy and large blockades. Byres lay strewn in shreds with the cries of fold heard beneath their remains.

What creatures had survived wandered aimlessly through the desolate streets, looking for owner and food and bellowing out to the strange faces that now walked through their homes.

'What fortunes are these?' Asked Siphon as he wiped his forehead with a cloth. His hands he then wrapped with this cloth to stop bloodflow and keep the wounds clean enough so that they did not become infected later on. 'That we shoud lose battles before they begin?'

At that moment, an outcry was heard from the men further south of the Wärgn. Siphon, curious and wondering, raised his head as his bandaged hand went to his weapons. Yet it was no orc or Uruk that rode toward them, but an elf. His hair was of pale gold and his eyes blue like the noonday sky. His poise was held high and firm, and his horse bore him proudly to where Siphon stood.

'What manner of creature are you?' he asked with a grin.

'Legolas Greenleaf. Elessar said you would come. You've seen the desolation all the way from South Ithilien.'

'I have and rode immediately with haste to the city.'

'Your horse is strong to have brought you so quickly.'

'He is.' Legolas pat the beast lovingly. It neighed and cast back its head. The mane that was white shimmered with silver, and for a moment Siphon wondered if he stared at the fabled Shadowfax of old.

'Elessar awaits you within the city, as well as a friend of yours whom you've missed for sometime.'

Legolas smiled. 'I thank you.' his eyes scanned the dark elf for an instant. He laughed and then rode off, leaving Siphon both humored and slightly bemused.
Legolas{Greenleaf}
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: December 24, 2003 09:48
Amaril could feel the anger pulsing from the King. The way he held his head made any that wanted to approach him quickly turn tail and run. The light elf walked beside the man as he strode down the steps to the House of Healing. Anduril was strapped securely to his side and a determined light was in his eyes.

Both man and elf halted to see a large crowd amassed outside the doors leading to the Healing wards. The large house must have run out of room, as their were men, women and children being cared for outside in the surrounding courtyard.

Amaril glanced over to see the King clench and unclench his scarred hands as he overlooked the wounded. 'This nameless enemy shall fall before I let this happen again,' he said to himself, though he must have known the elf would hear him. The light elf nodded and started forward again. His healing knowledge would be needed throughout the day.

Elessar worked his way through the throngs of wounded, helping those that needed his caring hands. Amaril helped where he could, and watched over those that passed on. A deep sadness overcame him as he watched families mourn the passing of a husband or a child, and he felt anger well up within his body.

More refugees came, and soon clean bandages and water were hardpressed to be found. The afternoon was fading before Amaril and Elessar could find rest among the weary. Closing his eyes, the elf only wanted to sleep then, to find some peace from the anger and sorrow that had burrowed its' way under his skin. But whenever he tried, there would be one more child that needed attention, one more woman crying and needing to be consoled, and one more man to watch as he passed from this world.

'Aragorn!' A cry was heard across the courtyard and Amaril looked up at the familiarity in the voice. The King raised his tired body up and smiled as a blond elf approached from the entrance to the sixth level.

'Legolas. I wondered when you would come,' said Aragorn as he embraced the archer.

'My apologies. There were more refugees that needed medical attention. I am sorry that I could do nothing more than wrap their wounds.' A look of sorrow passed over Legolas' face as he metioned the need for healers. He had seen much desolation during the War of the Ring, but the village had been destroyed and what was left of the colony had fled to the safe haven that was Minas Tirith.

Amaril stood shakily to his legs and smiled at his old charge. He was reminded of the days when the blond elf was only starting to learn to become a warrior, and Amaril was more than happy to teach the elfling a few tricks of the trade. But now he was a hardened killer, his abilities honed after several hundred years hunting and living in Mirkwood. 'Mellon nîn,' he smiled at the younger elf.

Grinning, Legolas gripped his shoulder in the warrior fashion and greeted him. 'It has been too long, Amaril of Lórien.'

'Indeed,' he nodded.

Leading the way into the citadel, Aragorn said, 'We have much to discuss, my Lords.'

[Edited on 24/12/2003 by Legolas{Greenleaf}]
Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: December 24, 2003 12:17
Many hours had passed before Siphon and the men had decided that there was naught else to be done for the ransacked village. With fires still burning and animals meandering the muddy streets, they left the remains to fate and nature, at least for the time being.

The few survivors that were found, mostly children who were small enough to be overlooked by the hoard, rode upon the saddles of the soldier's horses, taking shelter in the strong and protecting arms of their saviors.

Within a handful of moments, with the sun setting almost to their backs, Siphon and the troop appeared outside the gates of Minas Tirith. Too tired to care, Siphon released his reigns and continued to bandage his hands. His sore body, stiff from constant labor, was equally panged. He lookwed forward to a restful sleep, and perhaps a warm bath.

'Take your horse, sir?' asked a young lad dressed in fine clothing. Siphon frowned. 'You'll surely not be riding him up to the King's courtyard.'

Sighing, Siphon smiled in realization. 'No of course not.' he left his horse to the hands of the stableboy and made his way to the courtyard.

The city was alive and buzzing due to the events that had happened earlier that morning. Refugees ran around helping or being helped, and those that were in need of medicine and healing waited either in a sitting line or on cots, waiting to be carried to the Houses of Healing.

'What madness is this?' Siphon whispered as he saw a young girl sitting against the wall. Her dirty face was tear streaked, and her eyes swollen from long hours of crying. Her eyes fell upon the Wärgn and widened in shock. Siphon bit his lip. Surely his own natural appearance was enough to frighten a young child, but the condition in which he appeared now made him seem as if he were a monster spawned from the pits of Mordor.

His hair was pracitically a rats nest, and beads of sweat poured from his brow. His hands and face were scratched and bloody, and his once noble and handsome clothing were now covered in dirt and soot.

Sighing, Siphon turned his head and headed back toward the citadel where he knew a few familiar faces were waiting for him.

With a laugh, he appeared at the forsaken courtyard. 'Either they're all inside discussing, or my odor has offended them.' His stride swiftly carried him to the doors, and with a sigh he cast them open to see a buzzing royal hall filled with soldiers and a few more housed refugees.

Casting his eyes about, Siphon frowned. He caught the arm of a hurrying soldier.

'Where is your king?'

'On the upper floor, sir.' the soldier responded. 'Will you be needing care?'

'I need only to see your king.' Siphon announced.

'Upper floor sir. I'll take you to him if you like.'

'I'll find him. Thank you.' with that he set off to find Elessar and the elves.

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[Edited on 26/12/2003 by eldir]
Legolas{Greenleaf}
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: February 01, 2004 01:53
After explaining the situation to Legolas, whose frown now marred his face, Amaril and Elessar once again took their places around the large map in the center of the table. The situation had only gotten worse since they last looked upon the old parchment, and Amaril knew that the ransackers that had burnt the village were only a small portion of the enemy's forces.

'Have you sent messengers to our allies?' asked the blond archer as he stood before the table. His bright eyes picked up the territory quickly and deduced that their odds weren't good. 'Rohan will answer.'

Sighing, Elessar stood. 'As I told Lord Amaril, Rohan has suffered too greatly already. You were there, you should know how few men they have at their disposal.'

'But they will answer,' argued Legolas. 'They have answered before, they will again.'

Amaril looked back at the king, who wore a frown that matched the archer's almost perfectly. They stared at one another for a few seconds before Elessar turned his eyes toward the window.

'The dwarves?' asked Legolas hopefully. 'Gimli will come with a large force. They are formidable warriors.'

'Let us hope,' muttered the king. He sat heavily down in one of his chairs and held is head in his hands. Amaril suddenly felt pity for the man. Governing a nation was definitely quite a large undertaking, but to be faced with possible war was terrifying for any leader.

'Estel, do not lose hope just yet,' Legolas answered with a smile. 'That is most unbecoming of you.'

The only answer he got was a glare. It surprised the dark-haired elf just how informal they could be around each other. Though the exchange did brighten the man's mood a bit.

Before Elessar could come up with a reply, a knock was heard at the door.
Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: February 01, 2004 02:21
Woah, we're back! Nice!
_________________________________________________

Siphon knocked harshly on the large doors that marked the entrance to the King's chamber. As he waited for a response, he did what he could to straighten his hair and clothing so that he might look even remotely presentable.

With the slender, strong fingers of his left hand running through his long river of silver hair, he pondered on getting a trim, or perhaps a good cut. It's length was well past the middle of his back, and it was getting harder and harder to take care of with every new inch he gained.

"I definitely need to trim this rag." he whispered to himself as he eyed the ends of his hair. At that moment, the doors opened before him, permitting him entrance to the scene at hand.

Elessar was slumped in his chair, with the blond haired archer Legolas seemingly attempting to sooth his nerves and worries. Amaril stood behind a long oak table that held on it a highly detailed map of Gondor and it's outlying plains and fields. The scene was most distressing, as was the mood that floated heavily on the air.

All eyes turned questioningly toward the Wärgn who half walked, half dragged himself through the door. He managed a small smile and a heary sigh.

"The village has been...destroyed, my lord." Siphon stated with a slight shudder. "There was but a small number of survivors."

Elessar stood. His wide, terrified gaze considering the elf now with a hopeless dawn shining through his wise eyes. He nodded, and waved a hand of dismissal before falling back down in his seat.

"There were few traceable prints we could tell of." he continued to any who were listening. "Orc. Goblin no doubt were amongst the army that attacked this village." Siphon took a breath. "But there were men as well, and more of them I believe then any of the others."

"But how could they have entered into the city without the guard knowing?" Asked Legolas in a blaze of fury.
"I know not." Siphon answered honestly. "The only way I can think of is-"

"The sewers beneath Osgiliath may have permitted a small force." Elessar commented, never leaving the defeated pose in his chair.

"But what of the men? Surely such a force large enough to destroy an entire village could not march across the plains unnoticed!" Legolas went on. Elessar shrugged helplessly.

"Then perhaps...another possibility..." Siphon started, although he feared placing such a suggestion before the King. To question the loyalty of his own men...but it needed to be said.

"What?" Asked Legolas, his blue eyes still blazing from anger and confusion.

"That there are enemies within the walls of your city, my lord." said Siphon, turning his bitter gaze to the King. "And they have permitted evil doings upon your people."
Legolas{Greenleaf}
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: February 01, 2004 02:44
Siphon's words made Amaril shudder in disgust. To think that there were men serving Gondor that would try to destroy it within. Anger boiled deep in the elf's veins as he observed the scene playing out before his eyes.

King Elessar sat still in his chair, though his body went rigid. His breathing quickened and slowly he raised his dark eyes to pierce Siphon's. 'Are you saying that there are traitors amongst my White Guard?'

Siphon stood unwavering, though he looked less then satisfactory for such pride, and answered in a cool voice. 'Yes.'

Legolas shook his head and sighed, all anger having fled his limbs. He stood near the window, watching the sun set upon the free lands once again.

Suddenly, the king sprang to his legs and marched towards the dark elf. Amaril had a sudden feeling that Elessar would do something rash to his friend, but instead went straight to the door. Calling to his guard, he ordered that every warrior should report to the courtyard immediately.

Easing his grip on his sword, Amaril sat back down in his chair. The day just kept getting longer. Rubbing his face with his hands and noting that it was uncharacteristic of him, he leaned forward and shut his eyes.

'Are the years finally catching up with you, old friend?' The light elf looked up to see Legolas smiling down at him. Amaril noticed that the smile didn't reach his eyes as it normally did.

Glaring at his old charge, he answered, 'Not yet, princeling. And what happened to those manner I taught you all those years ago?'

This time Legolas laughed and the merry sound perked up those that could hear it. He could even see Siphon grin a bit before hiding his emotions behind his mask again.

Helping the elf to his feet, Legolas led Amaril toward the door. 'Come, we have work to do. We must send for help ere dawn breaks upon the plains.'
Eladriewen
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Post RE: War of the Dragon
on: February 01, 2004 03:05
Siphon watched with a soft grin as the two light elves left the chamber, grinning and chatting gaily as old friends so often did. Yet, as they passed from his view into the corridors beyond, there was a hint of regret and even jealousy in his wayworn heart. For Siphon there was no such companionship between him and other members of his race. For Siphon, it was the empty road, not the family's home or grand chamber of welcome. For Siphon, there was the call of duty, the call of righteousness, and the call of the open world before him. That call was a tempting one, but it was also a lonely one, with little pay, recognition, or appreciation to be had from it. He sighed once more and turned his gaze back to the setting sun in the grand window before his place.

"Master Wärgn, are you coming?" Asked Elessar with a questioning set firm upon his mighty brow. Now, as the king of Gondor and free men set himself to speak before his guard, all sign of weariness and despair had been wiped from his proud body. He stood as a King should stand before the Dark Elf and his nearby guard.

Upon his brow sat the wisdom of his sires, and in his shoulders settled unquestioning might. In his brown hair, only slightly tangled by the day's constant ruggedness, there whispered the soft song of the winds that blew through Gondor's plains. In each step reverberated the mighty blow of Gondor's war-horn, and in his ceaseless stride marched the grace of the Dúnedan. Siphon's heart fell in awe at the sight, so quickly reuniformed to fit his place amongst his people.

"Why, my lord, am I needed?" he asked, following swiftly after.

"Because if you are correct, I will need at my side all times one I know I can trust above all others."

"Surely there are a number of men in your council that you trust!" Siphon exclaimed. They seemed to be falling down an endless spiral of stairs toward the courtyard below.

"There are a few, but a few only. I must have Faramir here with me. He I know I can trust. We must call for aid from Gimli and the dwarves under his rule! If there are traitors in Gondor then there are surely others elsewhere."

"But my lord, what you purpose-"

Aragorn rounded firmly on the dark elf. A madness blazed in his eyes, causing Siphon to back down and swallow his words.

"What I purpose is that all who are loyal to Gondor show their allegiance. Only then will we know where our enemies lie." he took a sharp breath thought his nose, straightened his poise, and cast a sharp glance over the dark elf. "Clean and bandage your wounds. Change your clothes and replace all damaged armor and weaponry. When you have finished, arrive at the courtyard. I will be waiting for you with the White Guard."

Siphon nodded, watching helplessly as Elessar stormed silently out into the courtyard, where the White Tree blossomed in it's golden leaves.

Image

[Edited on 2/2/2004 by Tasar_Took_Nualda]
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