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Date Posted: 17:07:29 03/16/03 Sun
Author: Talarin, Adaron, Leila, & Elomir
Subject: Challerain Episode p. II
In reply to: All characters 's message, "The first day... Part II" on 19:50:32 03/13/03 Thu

A day following...

The large Elven company had been split into four groups of twenty-five. While Adaron remained in charge of the whole, lieutenants had been selected to individually command their 24. Though Leila was a captain all her own, still she had been placed in Talar's group. Prince Elomir, who would have had a section of his own, was to leave in a week's, perhaps a bit more, time, and so he had been asked to remain in Talar's group as well, simply because there was no need for much switching around of Captains. Talar's squad were positioned upon the Northern post while another was posted on the south wall. After their shift, one of the rested squads would take their place upon the ramparts. Only did they ward the fifth wall, the one closes to the fortress, the other four walls below were warded by the Kingsmen. Even though the Sun marched across the sky, still time seemed suspended, for nothing moved upon the snowy plains beyond the foothills. It seemed as if the Land held its breath, waiting . . . waiting. And Talar's own crystalline blues were ever drawn towards the distant Everdark. It was near midwatch, and soon groups of five would be dispatched to take their afternoon meal.

The Prince stood atop one of the bridges overlooking the Northern front, intent eyes gazing across the lands. Nothing had happened all night. Elomir would have liked to keep it that way. A light sigh drew from his lips, he knew there was a bloody massacre soon. It was really a shame. How he enjoyed the peace and calmness. The cloak that had been upon his back all the night long was taken from him, folded up, and set down neatly. The thing had gotten in his way too much. And besides, he could not access his weapons so easily with it on. A quick glance was given to the one called Talar. After many days, the two still had not spoken. His eyes then fell back to the snow covered lands.

Leila stood staring off at the distance looking less than gorgeous in the padded jerkin with the boiled leather plates attached to it. Her hair was braided tightly into two braids that met at the base of her neck to form a pony tail the rest of the way down. Despite her caramel complexion, her cheeks still managed to rouge from the chill air that surrounded the keep. She had exhausted her singing abilities earlier in their watch, probably to the relief of the two edalie and had remained quiet for what was going on an hour. Impressive for her, for she did not like the silence.

Stepping away from the wall, Talarin, Steel-Ring in old Elvish, came up to his human friend. "There have been set charcoal fires along the wall. Men have been relieved by the threes to warm themselves. If you so wish, feel free to as well." He was still getting used to this Captain thing. Not that anyone called him Captain or were supposed to, he just now had to watch over his small charge, though, many were over a hundred years his senior and he had naught to tell them. Talar had actually missed her singing, it brightened spirits as the Elves did not sing at this time. A glance was lifted to the nearest Elf: Elomir; whom he had elected to accompany the Lady Astariel on her wagon train journey. A smile of greeting was flashed to the other.

"I am fine here as I do not receive such odd looks for bearing my armor," she informed him, though it was most likely a matter of pride. Perhaps she would sing to keep herself warm. There was a good chance of it especially since the sweet soprano voice never wavered nor faltered on tone or pitch.

Yes, Elomir had missed it to. At first he found that human singing was unbearably shrill, he did come to enjoy Leila's. His eyes met Talar's, and gave the smallest bow. "Talar," he said in greeting.

The bow that was returned to the other of Elf Kind was deeper, for he was of Royal blood. He stepped between the two and gazed out to the black wall that rose over a mile into the sky....miles away, yet even plainly visible to Man. "There was a time, a happier time, when on clear days a low range of hills could be seen to the north. I saw them when I was here once before. The Argent Hills; calls them Aurion King. Now those Hills can be seen no longer, for they have been swallowed by that terrible blackness. Yet, I know they are still there. Prince Gelan, the King's eldest son, is there as well, behind that wall." Hands that had been placed upon the wall gently pushed him way from it. "Ah, but I do not like looking for the Prince out over the barrows of dead heroes. He stands in harms way, and gazing past graves would seem to portend to no good."

"There are graves there then?" she asked as she walked to the wall. She leaned upon it then with a light touch until finally she let most of her weight rest upon the building.

His eyes flickered from Talar back to the black wall the rose so proudly from the ground. "Amin nosse risa yassene," he told the other Elven Prince. My kin lies within..

"Yes, elendil. " He stepped up to her side. "Do you see that tumbled ring of stone jutting up through the snow? it stands in the center of the barrows of nobles and warriors felled in Wars past." In the deepening shadows one could see snow-covered rounded mounds of elden trussed barrows. But in the center of the mounds there was an ancient ruin of fallen stone laying jumbled--a ruin that once was a ring of tall standing stones. And yet something was in the midst of the ring. At Elomir's words, Talarin lifted a hand and firmed gripped his shoulder for a moment before letting it fall, a silent encouragement.

"Amin seler'," he said quietly. My sister.. "That is truly whom I fear for." His hands rested on the railings with a heavy sigh.

Perhaps for once in what seemed a while for the normally sunny gypsy girl, a smile did not light her features and she only bowed her head before she pushed from the turret and walked away from them both to a place she could not be seen by either elf and there she leaned against the stone once more to survey the land in a pensive state.::

"Mayhaps you should return home instead. I am sorry if my speaking up in front of King Aurion caused you a responsibility that you did not wish for." He watched his elendil go, his head lightly shifting to the side as he wondered at her manner.

He shook his head quickly. "Do not apologize, Talar. I would have found out nonetheless." Elomir finally turned to look at his Elven friend. "And I shall not return home. I belong at The Princess's side. "

Perhaps though they no longer saw the elendil, they would hear her sweet voice. That beautiful soprano that even elves would envy. "I wonder. I wonder. I wonder why each little bird has a someone. To sing to, sweet things to, a gay little lark melody..." the last of her song a wistful tone. Amber and green eyes glanced up, squinting at the sun for a moment before turning back to the growing darkness on the horizon pressing in on them as dispair was beginning to press near to her heart for fear of death or perhaps worse, the death of someone she cared for.

Though her song saddened his heart he did not go to her, feeling that if she wished his company, she would not have left. He knew his friend battled with emotions and feelings. And so he simply continued to stare out over the snowy plains.

Perhaps Talar could offer him some advice. Might as well try. "I care greatly for the Princess," he said quietly.

Up behind the female warden upon the ramparts stepped the scarlet cloaked elf. His voice came, quiet, lacking extreme tone chances and emotion. He did not know Talar knew and told of her of the graves that decorated the Land before her. "A crypt," Now that was pleasant to break the silence with. "hidden in summer by a tangle of vines and in winter by a blanket of snow. It is the ancient tomb of Othran who came from the sea, they say, a survivor of Atala, lost forever. That is only legend, and none knows for certain, not even Lord Mallorn. Yet the worn carvings in the stone are arcane runes of and elden time, and only the Elves are said to have read them, for we are skilled at tongues and writings."

Apparently Talar had not caught the drift of the others' meaning. "She is beloved by all whose presence she graces." A grin lightly touched upon his lips. "Your feelings are not uncommon."

"But they are un-returned," he said with a sigh, leaning his chin upon the hand that rested upon the railing.

"The Edalie are skilled at many things it seems," she said in a quiet voice. Outwardly she had shown any signs of being startled, though inside her heart had jumped into her throat, and did not retreat at the sound of his voice, only quickened. Her hands took purchase upon the worn stones and pushed herself into an upright position. "Then that is what lies in the midst of the ring in the crumbling rocks?" she asked still without turning to face him. Attempting to be ever-stoic in his presence, though 'twas not an easy task with such conflicting and overwhelming emotions that tore at her very soul.

"I am not inclined to agree with you, for Lady Astariel cares greatly for others, else she would not be here. She is not simply here as a light for the Elves, but also for the Men as well." A tower rose at his left and he took a few side steps to lean his back upon it, Talar’s eyes upon the one he conversed with.

"That is Othran's tomb." He confirmed, and now he stood at her side, his arms lifting to fold over his chest. His face was expressionless, though, from relaxation. "There is an eld inscription upon the runes of his tomb. 'Loose not the Red Quarrel Ere appointed dark time. Blade shall brave vile Warder From the deep, black slime.'"

"And what does that mean?" she asked, finally turning her head to look upon his face, imperceptibly biting the inside of her lip to keep the smile at bay that seemed to form as a response to his presence. He made her feel safe and happy even when she was not either.

At her question a slight smile played over his lips, for he found it amusing that he could not answer her. From out of the corners of his eyes he glanced at her for a split second before gazing one more out to the plains. "I cannot say, for it is a riddle beyond my knowledge. Lady Leila, " for she was a Captain after all and deserved the title. "you ask me to answer an enigma that has stumped the sages ever since the Elves first came upon the crypt in elden times, since Man first settled these lands and chose to place his barrows around an ancient tomb, even then a ruin, in the hope that the wraith of the mystic seer of Atala would give guide to the shades of Man's own fallen heroes."

"Perhaps the answer has not yet been given," she said simply. "There are mysteries in the world that are not yet meant to be answered, but as time unfolds they are revealed and are so clear that no one will believe it had not been discovered," and that was her thought on philosophy. Not too bad for someone of such tender years as she.

Not too bad at all. His eyes had widened a bit and he seemed to be shocked, as much as he could be at this time, by her responce. Another glance to her was given, and again that grin seemed to creep over closed lips. Yet he kept his ocean gazey upon her this time and his head nodded once, slowly. "Mayhap only High Adon knows the answers to such riddles, and mayhap, even He does not know."

"Perhaps that too is true," unable to hold his gaze for fear of what he might find there. Her face she could mask, but her eyes were like an open book to her inner workings. A light sigh escaped her lips then as she watched the plains, trying to keep her gaze focused and unwavering. "But that is not a comforting thought in such a time as this."

"Mayhaps not." He too took his gaze from her, returning it to the white laid out before them. "And then it is entirely up to us to defend our futures." He quickly returned his attention to her face, no doubt lingering upon his features. "We will prevail, Leila. Do not fear." In an instant ocean pools snapped back to the landscape, his weight shifting back as if he were about to make his leave.

She closed her eyes for a moment of composure before she spoke. "To think that fate rests in our hands is disheartening, but I fear not death nor defeat, for in my mind and in my heart there are things far worse than both," she said while allowing her eyes to meet with his own if but for a moment, a mere glimpse of what was hiding beneath the surface.

"If we were to be defeated, worse events are sure to come to pass...If indeed the spaunen lurk behind that black wall." To him her words meant torture and suffering. He did not look to the sky, yet somehow he knew, as did all the Elves whether they were on open plains or in a cavern underneath a mountain, "It is noon, and your watch is up. I am sure that you are weary and are in need of rest."

"I am both and neither," she said with a light laugh. "I suppose I should make my way down then and at least try to eat though there is no guarantee of such occurring."

Standing behind her Talarin lifted a brow. Of course, he had come upon her silently. "There is a guarantee. My guarantee." His back straightened, shoulders broadening. "You will eat, elendil, if I have to spoon the food into your mouth myself."

At Steel-Ring's words a soft chuckle slipped passed the slightly parted lips of Adaron. A nod was given to the both of them, and a smile that shown his white teeth, before he turned and walked silently down the length of the rampart.

A merry laugh erupted from her lips then as she turned to look up at least five or six inches to her Steel-Ring. "I would like to see the day that you are able to force me to do anything--especially eat!" with a playful tone. "Come with me then, Talarin. I shall eat just for you, though it will be of my own accord I can assure you!" She watched Adaron leave and then nudged her companion with a look that said it all. Another ring of laughter then at the way her
Lord of Trees had lightened her heart before she went bouncing down the...rampart? tugging Talar along behind her.

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