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Date Posted: 18:58:36 04/19/03 Sat
Author: Leila, Adaron, Gelan, & Brage
Subject: The four bear south to Galion Forest
In reply to: No post. 's message, "War of the Everdark" on 12:38:20 03/27/03 Thu

When they took up the trek again, their course bore due south as they strode for Galion Forest. Still the frozen Quadrill ran upon their left while to their right rose the steep eastern ramparts of lofty Greytower. And the farther south they trod, the less they saw of the ancient pave they followed, for in places the stones lay half buried, while elsewhere they had sunk beyond seeing into the loam of the land alongside the riverbank. Some nine hours they strode, faring ever southward. They stopped but once for a meal and a short rest, and then moved on quickly, for Lord Adaron felt a vague sense of foreboding, as if distant pursuit came upon their heels, drawing nearer with every step they took. yet, as they marched, the scarlet blade-jewel of Red Bale was examined often, but no glimmer of warning flashed in its depths. Another hour they walked, all eyes searching their limits, scanning for friend or foe, or aught else, yet naught did they see but sparse trees and sloping land falling southward along the Quadrill.

Another hour they walked before Leila called out. "At the edge of my vision there is something great which blocks our way. Perhaps it is a mountain? It is no more than five miles out," it was her only offering to the group in a form of speech since they had set out that morning. It was odd for her to not speak for ten or eleven hours straight, and yet she hadn't until now.

Brage grunted, and then growled, "There should be no Mountain before us."

So they continued walking and after a while she spoke again. "You are right Brage, 'tis no mountain. It is...a storm--thick with snow. Its flanks are dark, and the snow appears as a gray wall, neither moving closer nor farther from us."

"Ha!" barked Brage, "I knew it was no Mountain..." He shook his head.

Onward they pressed, and the wind began to rise as they came toward the fringes of the still storm. Soon they walked in a moan of air, and scattered flakes swirled about them. "Hsst!" warned Adaron, casting the hood of his scarlet cloak from his head. He slowed and came to a stop, straining his ears, yet he heard nothing but the sobbing wind.

All gave pause. Leila stopped movement, and as much as Adaron strained his ears, she strained her eyes to see through the swirling snow. She drew bane from the sheathe upon her hip to examine the blue stone just in case, although she knew Adaron's Bale would tell them better of evil.

Ah, but Bane did speak of evil, the blade-jewel sending a cobalt glow down the blade. At the sight of this Adaron's eyes widened and Bale was pulled from its scabbard, and the Elf sucked a hiss of air through clenched teeth, for down Bale a crimson fire glowed. His head snapped up. "There!" and all four could not hear the drifting howl of distant Vulg. "They come." The Elf's eerie tone sounding all the more foreboding with those dire words.

"Kruk!" spat Brage upon seeing the jewel's gleam. Again there came the shuddering howl.

Leila cried out then. "I can see them! Fifty Ghuls at least, all mounted on Helsteeds. The Vulgs run before the, quickly do they come upon us!" The panic that suddenly rushed over her made her nauseous. She looked between Gelan and Adaron then. "What do we do...?"

Gelan's features were fierce. "I see no place to hide. Lord Adaron? Leila? See you aught?"

Adaron lifted his hand, stepping close to the High King. "Gelan King, you forever, they have Vulgs with them: Vulgs to follow our scent. Even were there a place to hide, Drego's curs would find us. Instead, we must seek a site we can defend."

Gelan shook his head at his lack of thought and then nodded quickly, hefting his quarterstaff and looking to Leila. "Leila, look for a stand where neither Vulg nor Helsteed nor Ghul can come at us easily: a narrow lieu or a place up high: close-set rocks or trees, or a tor."

She looked around frantically before turning back to Gelan and shaking her head. "There is naught but open space, my King."

Once more there came the feral howl of Vulg.

Brage hefted his cudgel and set his feet wide. "Then we make our stand here on the bank of the Quadrill," gritted the Dwarf.

"Nay, Warrior Brage," barked Gelan, "not here."

"Then where, King Gelan?" Brage's voice was sharp with exasperation. "The Gypsy said that there is no site to defend, and we cannot hide from Vulgs. This bank, then, is as good a place as any to make our last stand, for they cannot come at our backs if we choose to fight here."

"Debate me not, Warrior Brage; there is no time," snapped Gelan. "For there is a way we might lose the Spaunen: the storm! If it thickens ahead, if it rages, and if we can come unto its fury ere the Spawn can catch us, the wind and snow will cover our track and hide us. Let us forth--quickly!"

Brage grinned, shaking his head. Gelan the Fox! cried his mind as he ran southward after the King.

A light smile as the battle was easily resolved between them. Gelan was right though, they could not just make a stand here, they were too few. They needed something else to their advantage. And so now they all made a dash toward the storm that did not move ahead of them. "Hurry, they come closer!" she called with a glance over her shoulder at the approaching swarm.

From the fringes and toward the heart of the tempest sped the four--seeking its blast--and the farther south they ran, the greater was the storm's turmoil; yet behind raced the Spawn, their pounding strides drumming over the land at a headlong pace, rapidly gaining upon their distant quarry. On ran the four, and the wind howl rose and the snow thickened, flying darkly in the Shadowlight. Now the Vulgs gave vent to juddering howls, and Ghuls answered them, for although they had not yet seen their pray, the spoor was growing fresher as they rapidly overhauled the hunted. Gelan's lungs pumped in harsh gasps as he ran on, his legs pounding over the frozen ground. And all about him groaned the dark-laden wind, whistling flakes stinging his face as he plunged deeper into the storm. Yet the how of the Vulgs and Ghuls rose above the cry of the wind, for the Spawn at last spotted the fleeing game, and exultation filled their ululating yawls.

Half-way into the storm Leila's small legs were overcome by a fallen branch hidden under the snow. She fell down to the ground, her foot caught under the branch as she struggled to get it loose. Panic wracked her form as she struggled, wind howling about her.

As she fell to the ground, a Helsteed thundered past, for the spear-bearing Ghul upon its back did not see the fallen Gyspy. In the shrieking dark howl, all were unable to see more than a pace or two. Vague black shapes hurtled by, and it would only be a matter of time before she was spotted.

Adaron ran in the swirling snow storm. Now the fury of the driving storm about him somehow altered: still the raging blast screamed and blinding snow hurtled through the air, yet the blizzard was brighter: less black, more gray. Did the storm weaken, the snow diminish? No, for he could see no farther than a pace or two and did not know where either friend or foe went in the blinding clutch, as he plunged on, frantic ocean hues searching for a small figure.

She finally tugged her foot free and stumbled onward, her cloak pulled around her to give her a mostly white appearance as the snow had stuck firmly to the outside of it. She was lost in the blizzard, but could see a lighter area up ahead and would make her way toward that grayer wall of the storm. She had only gone another few yards before the snow again stole her step and she fell to a heap in the snow, turning her head to see behind her.

Adaron had broken free of the swirling flakes to see his two male companions standing before him. A glance to the sky, and a smile fell upon his features, but then cobalt eyes widened and he spun about, eyes searching the storm behind him. He turned back to his companions. "Leila? Where is she?" And at the shaking of their heads he charged forward, only to be grabbed at the arms by Brage and Gelan. He fought against them, in disbelief. "Leila?!" He called into the storm.

A dark shape loomed out of the blast twenty yards behind Leila and stalked toward her: a leering Ghul upon Helsteed. And the corpse-foe lowered his barbed spear and charged towards the downed female. The Helsteed was swift. Death came on cloven hooves. And the spear dipped to pierce the Gypsy.

Leila screamed and balled up, pushing herself into a roll to get away from the spear. Up to her feet she went then, ready to slay the Ghul, but could no longer see it in the swirling snow. Once more she made a break for the graying wall, stumbling through the snow. Two minutes had passed since the other three had broken through. Still no sign of her.

As strong as the Man and Dwarf were, Adaron's will was stronger, and nearly lifting Brage up from the ground, he broke free of the two and rushed forward towards the blinding snow.

The Helsteed hammered past. And surprisingly Leila was unscathed, bor inexplicably the Ghul had not shifted his aim to strike the dodging Woman; yet something was amiss with the corpose-foe, for the Helsteed ran on another twenty yards and then collapsed, and the foe did not rise up from the snow. As Leila came upon it, she would see the corpse-foe twitching convulsively, fingers scrabbling, face grimacing, and then the Ghul began to wither, shriveling. And then the reaver’s body began to buckle and fold in upon itself, and collapse into ashen ruin to be whipped at by the howling blast. As Leila would walk, the worse of the storm and the sound would begin to diminish, and wind still ripping at her, but its force lessening as she struggled on.

The withering death...she thought. The edge of the Everdark was near! Pushing past the Ghul she forced herself to run forward until she broke free of the Everdark, stumbling out into the sunlight only a few feet from Adaron and collapsing there, gasping for air. The sun glinted off her hair and her skin was all the more dark out in this light, perfectly caramel colored--or what they could see of it, for she was curled halfway into a ball, recovering from near-death and cold, for though it was still chill outside the Everdark, it was nothing like within.

Overhead the Sun shone brightly. Seeing her off to the side, Adaron turned and hurried to her, noticing the others hurrying behind. He dropped to his knees next to her, his hand lifting to brush down her back, his other gently grabbing her lower arm, to help her to rise somewhat from her balled form.

At his touch she jumped and her head turned up, rising as he grasped her lower arm. Her eyes turned up then to the sun, the gold glinting within green depths. Tears formed in her eyes then and when she closed them against the sunlight they fell down her cheeks. So happy was her heart to feel the warmth of the sun upon her cheeks. She turned then to Adaron and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest, head tucked neatly under his neck to hide from everything. There she allowed herself to sob where she knew she would be safe. "Amin mela lle, Adaron," (I love you) she cried in a choked whisper. A few more moments passed. "I am so happy to see the sun once more." It had been long weeks after all.

Adaron wrapped his arms about her lower back, under the quiver of arrows that was strapped to her back, allowing her to sob. "Lle varna, Mela en' coiamin. Cormamin lindua ele lle." (You’re safe, love of my life. My heart sings to see you.) His eyes closed, his head dipping to allow his nose to momentarily touch the top of her head before he lifted it again his hands coming to rest on her sides as he stepped back, looking down, trying to make her gaze meet his.

Gelan and Brage arrived and stood a few feet behind Adaron, smiles shared between the two, for they, too, had worried over the fate of the Gypsy girl.

She looked up at him then, cheeks streaked with tears, but she smiled beautifully at him, a hand coming up to smooth the hair back away from her face. For a moment she just regarded the elf, green and gold eyes searching the ocean blue of his own before hers alit with something else, an affection she could not hide if she'd tried. She blushed visibly then. Perhaps she had understood at least part of his words?

Adarons lips parted into a small smile. His chin raised and lowered in a slight nod, as if confirming what she saw within him. But then a sadness crept into the depths of his gaze and he stepped back, away from her, turning to the High King and the Dwarf, as if awaiting for them to be ready before they set off.

Leila stood then and shook the snow from her cloak that still remained, pulling her hair from the braid and doing the same. As they began to walk once more she would start to put a new plait into her hair. She could barely contain her joy. The sun provided little warmth, for it was still January in the mountains, but it was such a welcome change. Feeling rather sprightly now, the men should watch their backs, she was feeling very playful now.

Leila was not the only one in good spirits. It seemed that all had been brightened by the light of the Sun. South they went, another ten miles or so, away from the shrieking wind and blinding snow that raged along the flank of the hideous Black Wall; and they left the dread 'Dark behind.

And so as they walked, Leila kicked in to singing before Brage could launch in to one of his tales about something that...none of them really cared about, but loved the gruffy dwarf too much to tell him. For a long while, miles did she sing before finally she fell silent, now content to walk in peace in the sunlight that gleamed off the white-capped mountains.

Even though the Sun was still in the sky, they made camp on a small tor overlooking the Quadrill, a tor easily defended, for although they had passed beyond the Black Wall, night would still fall and the Spawn could rove. Yet the comrades were weary beyond measure, for they had walked long since their last camp and could not press further. Exhausted, Brage sat in the waning sunlight. The Dwarf's wayworn gaze strayed back along the direction whence they had come; and he could, as could they all, still see the distant Black Wall standing across the valley and racing up into the Grimwall Mountains like some great, dark, stationary monster poised to strike. With a shudder and a grunt, the Chak took his eyes away, only to catch the Gaze of the Elf. "Lord Adaron, though we now stand in the light of day--and I would not have it otherwise--still I wonder, why has the Everdark stopped?"

Adaron's ocean hues gazed at the Drimm from under his dark brows. "The myrk stood for days, weeks, in the Argent Hills north of Challerain Keep even while the Everdark marched down the Grimwall to engulf Arden Vale and rush on toward the Lands to the south. And asyou know, later Drego caused the Winternight to sweep from the Argent Hills down through Rian to swallow Mont Challerain, and the Eternalwood, and beyond. Hence, the Evil Once can cause the myrk to stand still in places while elsewhere he presses it forth to smother the land."

Well Leila was not so idle, she'd stocked off in search of things once they stopped while there was still daylight. Where had she gone? Well, there was no telling really, but she returned at near twilight with three rabbits and several winter onions that she carried by the stalks above the bulbs. Dropping them down in the encampment she went about stoking a fire under a makeshift collection of rocks, two stacked and then one flat on top of it. Fortunately she'd dressed the rabbits where she'd caught them, so now she could go about skinning them and then placing the meat upon the stone to start to sizzle. Sometimes it wasn't a wonder that people forgot she was a woman. The blood didn't much seem to bother her as she could wash it off. The winter onions too were peeled and cut up, dropped atop the rabbit meat and then she left again to go and find some way of cleaning her hands.

Adaron paused, watching Leila silently, curiously, before his own eyes turned and followed the towering flank of the Wall. Then he spoke on. "As to your question, Drimm Brage: I know not why the Black Wall has stopped where it has. Perhaps it stands at the limit of Drego's power, thouhg I doubt it, for I think he intends to use the Horde in Drimmen-deeve to attack Taure Galion, and he will need the myrk to do so." Slowly the Elf shook his head. "I deem he but pauses, biding his time till all is set, and then once more the Wall will sweep forth at his biding. Yet I cannot say for certain that my thoughts are true, for I know not the mind of the Evil One."

Though Leila was cooking something, still Brage felt as though he was starving, and so he snacked on the mian, biting off a chew of it and growled, "Mayhap he leaves this Land undarked for the Lakh of Hyree to invade, or the Kistanee Rovers."

Leila returned then humming and sitting down by the fire with two pointy sticks she used to flip everything over in order to sear the other side. She'd found water somewhere, for now her face and hands were clean of dirt and blood. Once she was content with the meat being cooked long enough; she had to make sure it wasn't bloody after all! She divided all of it up and pushed it into large dried leaves that something else had been wrapped in but she'd kept for an occasion just like this. She pulled out the smallest portion for herself; she wasn't a huge fan of meat in general, but was tired of bread. The gypsy turned to look over her shoulder then to the other three. "Come and eat, I think we can all agree that anything is better than mian and water after so many weeks."

~*~


As the four took breakfast the next morning the Sun rose through the dawn. Gelan marveled at how bright was the day and how dark had been the night, so different from the foul Shadowlight of Winternight. Sun, Moon, stars, sky: what wonders to behold! And Gelan was not the only one entranced by the sight of the Sun, for Adaron and Brage stood as if spellbound and watched the golden orb rise of the rim of Midland to shine down upon the Land.

Leila too watched the sunrise, but she watched it from her perch in a tree. The gypsy had been able to sleep little last night, for she was too busy watching the stars change position in the sky and thinking of the days ahead. Still the sunrise was enough to stop her thoughts as she watched it crest the horizon.

South they strode, down the wending valley of the Quadrill, the land about them richly filled with the subtle shades of winter--drab to any but those who had just come from the long 'Darkdays of Shadowlight. Adaron's eyes swept out across this wondrous landscape. Up the slopes to the west reared the Gimwall Mountains, marching out of the north and onward to the south their mighty peaks capped in snow. Beyond the valley slopes to the east, and hence unseen by the four, a rolling upland wold fell toward the distant Rothro River and beyond to the Argon. At their backs, to the north, loomed the now distant vile Black Wall of the Everdark.

"I see something ahead," she chimed as they walked. "I can not make it out. My eyes do not see so far when we are not within the clutches of the Everdark."

A grin, closely resembling a sneer, was sent in Leila's direction, though no ill will was behind it. "Here in the day of Adon's Sun, once again Elven eyes prove to see farther than those of all other folk. If it the margin of Taure Galion. Your eyes look upon the beginnings of the great forest of Eld Trees--the Realm called by Man, Larkenwald." On the maps at the War-council Larkenwald was described as such: an Elven Land running from the Grimwall onwest to the ARgon River in the east, and from the wold to the north to the Great Escarpment along the south where began the Land of Valon. Larkenwald, also called Taure Galion or Galion Forest: a Land of trees, a Land of rivers--the Rothro, the Quadrill, the Cellener, and the Nith, and all of their tributaries, their sparkling waters to course through the forest to flow at last into the broad rush of the mighty Argon. South they tramped toward the distant forest, and as they went, gurgling pools could be seen in the ice of the Quadrill where the grip of the cold had been broken and the water tumbled past. Now the Eld Trees could be seen as the four comrades neared the forest: mighty were these great-girthed sylvan giants, much like the trees deep in Eldamar, soaring into the sky, their leaves a dusky green, for the Elven Folk lived among the mammoth boles and so winter touched them not, and they seemed to gather the twilight.

Great girths, like her chubby Adaron? [::dies, won't actually put that in the log::] Leila listened as Adaron talked, but her thoughts still strayed elsewhere into her own imagination as she looked over the landscape and the great forest they now approached. A sigh rushed from her lungs and she looked up at the sky curiously. "How is it that elves always know the position of the sun, moon, and stars? Even when in the Everdark they could not be seen?"

They had came among the massive trunks towering upward, the dusky leaves interlaced overhead, the land below fallen into a soft twilight though the Sun stood on high. Adaron had just opened his mouth to answer her when : "Tamplle!" barked a voice, the speaker hidden.

Adaron held up a hand. "Stop." he said softly, coming to a halt himself. "Amin Adaron." his voice lifted, calling out to the hidden one.

Leila came to a halt beside Adaron and froze her legs into place. Her head tipped up and her eyes squinted through the dappled sunlight that blinded her, trying to find the source of the speaker.

Suddenly they were surrounded by a company of gray-clad Elven warriors seeming to take shape from the very twilight shadows of the Eldwood itself. Soem bore bows, others cleaming swords, but striding to the fore came an Elf bearing a black spear.

Adaron lifted his hand, lightly touching the left side of his chest and bowing his head lightly at the other, his hand to come away and fall back to his side. "Tuon," said Adaron, recognizing the flaxen-haired spear wielder.

Tuon smiled at Adaron, yet he did not ground the butt of his spear into the earth; instead, he held the ebon weapon at guard, his wary gaze scanning Lord Adaron's companions, his eyes showing surprise as he looked upon the female.

"Tuon," Adaron said again, raising his voice so that all could hear, "set aside Black Galgor, for these are trusted companions." Tuon’s grip shifted upon the weapon and the black spear swung aside. "These are chary times, Heru Adaron, for the Enemy in Gryn reached forth with his mailed fist to grasp the Land. Yet I would not gainsay your words, still I would know your comrades' names."

But Adaron shook his head, once. "No, Tuon," he answered, "though I intend no slight, I will hold fast their names, for such are the deeds of these warriors that Heru Angrist should be the first to hear their names and listen to the tale of their valor. Yet this I will tell: Drimm, Edainme, Edan, Edhel: these past days we four have strode through the halls of Drimmen-deeve. We have pierced its lightless maze from the Moth-Annon to the Anoron-Ando." Adaron gaze Tuon a sneering smile, his chin tipping up, regarding the other, yet it his pride was noticeable. "We are Walkers of the Deeves."

Cries of amazement rose up from the Elves of Tuon's company and eyes flew wide in wonderment; the Elf Captain stepped back a pace, startled, and his mouth groped for words.

Before Tuon could say anything, Adaron held up his hand. "No, Tuon, it is to the Heru I could first speak my words, for the marvel of our news must be borne to Angrist's ears before all. yet if you must name these three..." He paused, a smirking grin passing. "call them, Axe-thrower, Bane-wielder, and Shatter-sword."

Brage grunted, spreading his feet wide and pointing a thumb to the arrogant Elf Adaron. "And you can call him Torch-flinger."

Wide eyes of ocean blue snapped to the Dwarf as air was sucked in though Adaron's nose, his jaw clenched.

Gelan bit his tongue to hold back laughter at the two but his grin was evident, amusement dancing in his steel-gray gaze.

And as soon as Brage spoke Leila burst out laughing, a high, melodic laugh. Green and gold eyes filled with tears of laughter and she looked up at Adaron then. "Torch-flinger," she mumbled and then once more laughed outright, a hand coming to clap over her mouth. Oh, she couldn't even handle it!

Surprise mirrored in Adaron's eyes as they snapped to Leila. Even she was against him. But at the sound of her laughter, all smiled beamingly; Adaron even cracking a small grin before turning back to Tuon, shaking his head. "But other news--dire news--I bear, and you of the March-ward need to know it first: A mighty Horde of Spaunen now camp in Black Drimmen-deeve--ten thousand or more Rupt, I deem Yet I do not think they will strike south for many days or weeks to come, for their ranks are presently in disarray, and the Black Wall yet stands still and moves no closer to Taure Galion. Yet you must be ever vigilant, for the Spaunen writhe in Drimmen-deeve like maggots in a carcass." Adaron fell silent, and a murmur of consternation swept through the Elven Ranks.

"Ai, Adaron, that is news of dire import!" cried Tuon. "That a mighty swarm of Spaunen teems in the Quadran means we must stand on high alert along the margins of the Eld Trees, for Drimmen-deeve lies at our very doorstep. Even so, should the Rupt march, many Elves will be needed to hurl them back; yet most are northwest, fighting alongside Heru Mallorn, as you will learn from Heru Angrist. He himself is but recently returned, and you are fortunate to find him here." Tuon then gazed upon the comrades, and questions battered at his lips, yet he did not speak them, but instead inclined his head toward Adaron, accepting the Elf's will to tell the Deevewalker tale first to Angrist. Yet Tuon was canny, and this he said: "Though you tell of the Horde, Adaron, you say naught of the Horror, and I deem your silence speaks loudly to those who can hear its voice. Yet we will abide by your wishes and probe not for names and deeds; forsooth, your story must be mighty if you have strode through the Black Deeves. But come, we will share a meal. And there are horses to bear you to a cache of boats along the Quadrill, where the ice rushes not and the river flows free, though it sits low along the banks, for the cold locks much of the water to the north." With soundless hand signals Tuon gestured to the Elves of the March-ward troop; and as the Bearer of the Black Spear spun on his heel and led the comrades toward his campsite, the remainder of his company faded noiselessly into the lofty silence of the Eld Tree Forest."

Once all turned and began to walk, Leila reached over and pinched Adaron's side playfully. Once he turned ocean eyes to her she just smiled before mouthing silently 'torch-flinger' and then her mouth tightened while she bit her tongue, trying not to dissolve into laughter as they strode through the forest of towering trees.

Adaron had turned his head to her immediately upon feeling the pinch. He had broken into a smile, his spirits obviously greatly risen since meeting his kith. A dark brow had risen at her smile and then eyes widened at her mouthing. He turned his head from her then, abruptly, yet still the grin threatened at the corners of his mouth. He caught Tuon's questioning look and Adaron simply grinned and shook his head, softly saying, "Amin n'rangwa edainme." (I don't understand women.) And shoulders shrugged.

She grinned, hearing his words to which she responded: "Amin n'rangwa lle, Adaron." (I don't understand you, Adaron.)

Tuon turned quickly upon hearing the Woman speaking their language, he gave her a broad grin and a quirked brow to Adaron who merely shook his head. Tuon brought them to a string of horses, and apologetically informed them that they could only spare two. Brage then would ride with Adaron and Leila with Gelan. They swiftly cantered among the mighty Eld Trees along the bank of the Quadrill . Before them rode Theril, Elven warrior assigned by Tuon to lead them to the boats. Through the soft twilight of the great trees wended their trail, the hoofbeats of the horses muffled by the moss underfoot, and what little sound they made was lost in the dim galleries under the dusky interlace high overhead. The wood of the Eld Trees was precious--prized above all others--for none of these giants had ever been felled by any of the Free Folk, though some had been hacked down in malice by Rupt; and Elves still spoke bitterly of the Felling of the Nine. But the Elven vengeance had been swift and utterly without mercy, and chilling examples were made of the ax wielders, and their remains were displayed to Spaunen in their mountain haunts in Midland; and never again was an Eld Tree hewn in Taure Galion. Yet at times a harvest of sorts was made in the forest, for occasionally lightning or a great wind sweeping over the wide plains of Valon would cause branches to fall; and these would be collected by the Elf storm-gleaners and the wood cherished, each branch studied long before the carvers tools would touch the grain. And gentle Elven hands made treasures dear of this precious wood.

Leila leaned back against Gelan because she could and yawned. Now that they were riding she took the time to actually speak with the High King. "How do you fair...Shatter-sword?" she asked with a mirthful tone to her voice. Green and gold eyes only spared a glance up at him for a moment before they turned back to the path ahead.

Gelan smiled lightly. "I am better now that we have come from the Everdark. Though many miles we travel in a days time, still I would that we pressed faster to reach mine host. But, alas, we cannot, for we have our limits."

She nodded. "I know that you are anxious, my king, but I am quite confidant that you will reach them in time. We have no other choice but." A yawn was given then. "I was not tired until I got upon this horse,"
she said with a slight huff. "I think after this war I shall be in the best shape of my life!" Although she knew she wouldn't make it out of the war, there was no use in worrying Gelan about it.

And through the soaring timber cantered three swift horses, two bearing double following a third. Several hours they rode thus, coming at last to the curve of the high bank along the Quadrill where the long moss hung down to the water. Here Theril reined to a halt and dismounted, as did the comrades. And evening was falling upon the twilight land. "Here you will make camp, Adaron," said Theril, "And on the marrow ride a boat down the Quadrill to where it is joined by the River Cellener. Just past, upon teh south bank, you will find another March-ward camp, there will be horses to bear you to Woods'-heart, to Hero Angrist.

"Boat?" grunted Brage. "I see none. Must we weave one from moss?"

"Hai, Axe-thrower!" laughed Theril. "Weave one? No! Yet from the moss you will draw one forth!" And the Elf guide leapt down the bank of the Quadrill and drew aside the dangling bry, and lo! concealed under a broad stone overhang a dozen Elven boats rode silently at tether, each slender craft nearly six paces in length, with tapered bow and stern; and spruce ribs curved from wale to wale, giving each craft a rounded bottom.

Brage's laugh barked above the sound of the river, and he looked upon the boats with appreciation, for Brage was a rarity among the Dwarven Folk: he could both swim and ply small wherries such as these, even though these shells were paddled, not rowed.

After camp was made, and a meal taken, once more Theril mounted his steed and caught up the reins of the other two horses. "Adaron, I go now to rejoin the March-ward. Is there word you would have me bear?"

At Adaron's glance, Gelan spoke. "Just this, Theril: The Lady Rael of Arden said that aid unbidden would come along the way of our destiny. Tell Tuon and your comrades that Rael's words were indeed true: first we came upon the Ax-thrower, and then upon your company. Say, too, that the High King ever will have an open hand to the March-ward of the Larkenwald." Then Gelan fell silent.

Theril looked keenly at the Man. "You must be close, indeed, to the High King to know his mind that well, Shatter-sword. There is a tale here that I am eager to hear. Yet I will bear your message to my company, and should any of us ever met the High King face to face, we will say this: 'I have meet with Shatter-sword, a Man of noble bearing, and though at the time I knew not his name, rank, or deeds, I am proud to have helped him and his comrades: Ax-thrower, Bane-wielder, and Torch-flinger." Theril saluted each in turn, and crying "Hai!" wheeled his horse and thundered off into the twilit forest, the other two mounts in tow.

As the elf rode off Leila laughed softly again. Mumbling inaudibly, at least to Gelan and Brage. "Torch-flinger indeed," she chuckled, shaking her head and then dismounting from the horse. "Will I be taking first watch again?" she asked, a reaching behind her to adjust her chainmail. Thankful would she be when she did not have to bear it for a while.

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  • Galion Forest: A conference, a feast, and a revelation -- Adaron, Leila, Gelan, Brage + Eldalie of Galion Forest, 12:33:59 04/20/03 Sun
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