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Date Posted: 19:38:06 03/13/03 Thu
Author: All characters
Subject: The Challerain Episode

The first night...

Now the fortress in all of its massive strength could be seen, as the company of Elves and one Edan followed along behind the Gate Captain. Gray it was and ponderous, with great, blocky granite buildings with high windows and square towers. Crenels and merlons crowned the battlements; massive groins supported great bastions outjutting from the walls. Stone curtains protected high banquettes, where would stand defenders in the face of attack. At last they came to the fifth, and final wall, the last rampart before the castle itself, and the massive main gate was shut. They did not go to this portal, however, but instead rode for the north wall, for there was the Old Fortress, now incorporated into the barrier itself. As the company slowly rounded a bastion upon the northwest corner, thin wind sprang up. To one side and just upslope stood a pavilion, and several Men were gathered about a table, occasionally looking to the north and gesticulating, pointing, and arguing. As the Elven column drew near, they came under the winter limbs of an ancient oak tree. There guide said, "Stop and dismount here. Which among you is Captain?" Adaron, at the head of the column, and the only one in a scarlet cloak not of a forest shade, turned to the gate warden. Softly he cleared his throat and the other looked to him. "Good! Come with me." Adaron slipped his leg over the horse, dismounting, and signed Talarin, Leila, Astariel, and Elomir to accompany him.

Leila dismounted promptly. There was a soft 'oomph' as she landed, for her movements were not so soundless as the elves'. Ah well, she was really growing accustomed to that by now and even felt like they were growing fond of their clumsy little elendil. Well, at least Talar was. Both hands smoothed down the front of her cloak that covered her tunic which was bulked up enough to keep her warm to hide any hint of femininity. The hood was still drawn over black strands and cast a shadow upon her face, leaving only her smooth lips and chin in plain sight by humans, though the elves could see her eyes quite easily.

The five followed along behind the Man, leaving the large company behind to speak in foreign words in hushed voices. Strides down to the tent, Talarin could now see that the Men were gathered about a table strewn with maps and scrolls; some lay flat with the corners held down by improvised paperweights--a helm, a dagger, a small silver horn, a cup. Again some Men pointed at the maps while others stared northward, and they seemed to be arguing a point. Talarin, Steel-Ring in the old tongue, glanced north, too. Here, high on the mount, he could see miles upon miles of unrelieved snow stretching forth upon the plains below; a low, dark cloud-bank clung to the far horizon...What he knew to be the Everdark. Movement was caught on the right side of his peripheral vision, and young Prince Igon could be seen striding towards them, yet was stopped by a page boy.

For all intensive purposes, Leila remained closer to Talarin than anyone else because she was without a doubt safe in his presence. Anyone else, she was not positive would protect her--not that she had anything to fear here. Both hands slipped under her cloak in order to adjust the sword upon her hip whose hilt was digging into the bone uncomfortably. The place seemed to buzz with tension to almost a palpable extent. She turned her head then to look to Adaron, a worried glint residing in those shadowed eyes. At least they were among humans and would be speaking a language she understood.

The group came unnoticed to the edge of the group of men and stopped where the guardsmen indicated. The guide then made his way to the warrior at the head of the table, a large, robust Man, black hair shot through with silver, with a close-cropped silver beard. The Captain of the tower guard said a word or two, and Marshal Vidron's eyes flicked over to the five. A wide grin passed over his lips and he left the Men gathered at the table and strode over to the Elven Emissary and the ones behind and at his sides. He gave a half bow to the Elven lord, Adaron greeting him with a light tap to the right side of his chest and a low cant of his head.

"Lord Adaron, my spirits are lifted high to see the Elven Folk here at Challerain Keep." His eyes shifted to the company that still was gathered by the oak. "I would that your numbers were higher, yet greatly, even this company, shall aid our cause."

"Lord Mallorn will set out from Elvenhome to Mont. Challerain in two weeks time. It takes time to prepare the army of Eldamar." At these words, the corners of Adaron’s mouth slightly coiled into a smirk. He knew that the Hrosmarshal did not expect such an army from the Elves to aid them.

Vidrons steel gray eyes widened. "Lor...He will be greatly welcomed. But please, introduce me to your Kith." He gestured to the ones beside the Elf.

Adaron turned to the right and Adaron turned to the right and slightly lifted a hand. "Prince Elomir of Taure en Celebdulin. Forest of the Silverbirds. My Lord Mallorn’s only daughter, Lady Astareil...." As the two Royals were presented Vidron bowed deeply to the both of them. Adaron then turned to the left. "Talarin of Elvenhome, and Leila Amara, formally of distant Aragon, residing now in Elvenhome. She comes to lend her aid as well."

It was plainly obvious the that Lady Astariel would not join in the battles to come, yet it seemed that what he once thought was another male elf, though hooded, was now a woman…indeed intended upon fighting alongside the men. "Faugh! Saddle me not with nursemaids!"

She sighed softly, as she'd been hoping on keeping this from the ignorant men of this camp. No man thought a woman skilled enough to fight. Dark hands moved then and pushed her hood back from her face revealing that not only was she a woman, but also of gypsy descent. That would be another slap in the face to Vidron, for tales of gypsies had traveled the whole realm over. Her eyes shone of a fire of determination, more green now than gold, piercing in effect. Leila lifted her chin slightly in a gesture that she knew Talar would recognize and Adaron would as well, but she had learned from the best. "I can assure you, m'lord Vidron, that I am no nursemaid. I am possessed of skill that could rival any you would choose to compare me with." She said simply, not boastfully. Her voice remained emotionless, perfectly calm.

Though Talar was pleased to see her keep her temper, he was not at all at ease with the Hrosmarshal’s words. "Nursemaid? You would call her a nursemaid??" Anger was rising in his voice.

Adaron, startled at his close companions outburst turned slightly, eyes a bit wide and upon the Elf.

Talar had been watching as Igon approached once more.

He strode by a familiar Man-shaped target, wooden shield on one side, extended arm and chain mace upon the other. With a wide grin the youth had grabbed the chain that held the mace and gave it a good whirl. And whirl it did, the Prince having to duck as the mach violently spun about to whip at his head. Igon crouched and darted away, leaving the target spinning behind.

Anger boiled, yet a calm came over his face and he turned to his elendil. "Leila, your bow." His arm whipped back, pulling his bow out, then again to grab an arrow. It was nocked in the blink of an eye as he turned towards the target and cried, "The whirling mace!" He let fly his arrow at the spinning target. *Thock!* His arrow struck home, intercepting the hurtling wooden ball in mid flight! Now it gyrated wildly.

In one smooth motion her cloak was loosed and fell to the floor, her bow drawn. When Talar fired his arrow, Leila just smirked. An arrow was drawn, nocked, and fired without hesitation. Right on the mark, it stuck the mace, but then another was pulled and fired, striking the target right in the center of his chest. Her bow lowered and she looked to Talar with a soft smile. "Well, it does not do any good if you just disarm them," she informed him as her explanation for shooting the second arrow. And all of it had happened in the space of seconds.

"Ai-oi!" shouted Vidron in wonder. "this gypsy has fangs!" Then he burst out laughing.

Talar, grinning in spite of himself, looked from Leila, to the stoic Adaron, and then to the General.

"Hai!" Cried the Valanreach Field-marshal. "I, Hrosmarshal Vidron of Valon, name you Captian of the Gypsies!" It shouldn't matter that she was the only one....it was the thought that counts! He turned and hurried to the table and swept up the silver horn from among the maps and scrolls and then strode forward, presenting it to Leila as a token of her newly bestowed rank.

Talar, and the elves behind that had over heard, Igon who had come upon them, and the other Men in Vidrons company all laughed in great humor as Vidron hung the horn from Leila's shoulder. Even Adaron had managed a wide grin.

"Someday I shall tell you the history of that trumpet, lass," said Vidron to Leila. "It is a noble one, for it was won from the hoard of Sleeth the Orm by my ancestor Elgo, Sleeth's Doom. He tricked Sleeth into the sunlight, and the Cold-drake was done for." He told her the story now anyway.

Leila allowed him to hang the horn from her shoulder with a smile upon her lips. She then gave a slight bow to him. "And I am honored, Lord Vidron. I shall wear it well," with a charming lilt. Her head turned then to Talar and then to Adaron, the smile remaining in place, and she was pleased to see them both smiling.

All could see that the bugle had riders on horseback engraved upon it, running round the flange of the horn bell among the mystic runes of power. The rang would be bell-like, and those that heard it, their spirits would be stirred and hearts would leap with hope. Vidron was a man in his middle years, with eyes so dark a gray they were nearly black and a sharp penetrating gaze. He was clothed in dark leather breeches, while soft brown boots shod his feet. A fleece vest covered his mail-clad torso, and his silver and black hair was cropped at the shoulders and held back by a leather band upon his broad brow. White teeth smiled through his silver beard. A russet cloak hung to the ground, and a black-oxen horn was at his right side, held by a leather strap over one shoulder and across his chest. "Our liege will want to see you." A glance was given to the young Prince at his side, who had retrieved the
arrows and held them fourth to the woman and Elf.

"Hai!" What splendid marksmanship! Would that I could shoot as well, Leila" A broad grin with pearly whites was flashed to Leila.

"I see that you have already met King Aurion's youngest son."

Igon nodded once. "They were my return escort from Elvehome. And also have come to give their aid."

"Ah." Replied Vidron. "So I have heard, and for that I am glad for I fear our Kingsmen to other Realms have been intercepted, for few have answered the call, and the camps below stand half empty."

Adaron frowned at these words. "Wait. Last night we saw the campfires of at least five armies. Surely that is a great strength to withstand the trust of Drego..."


The smile had long fled from the Hrosmarhsal's lips. "Ah, you saw but a ruse in the dark to deceive the night spies of the Enemy, " he rumbled. "At night we have the look of five armies, yet the Men of less than three. And even five armies are not enough to withstand that."

Adaron nodded at the correction. For the moment the Everdark had slipped from his mind. "The Everdark." He named the solid black wall, rearing up a mile or more to swallow the sky, the darkness fading at the towering limit of its ebon light.

Dark eyes of the General Vidron widened. "You know of this wall?"

Again the Emissary Elf nodded. "Long ago. A sending of Drego it is, adn the land beyond lies in eternal night....cold night...Winternight. In the day when the Sun is on high, I rode my horse into the Shadow Light, and it is like passing from bright day through twilight and into Winternight. There in that spectral dark the land about can be seen, as if in strange werelight; yet the Sun above is but a wan paleness, dim so that only faintly can the orb's disk be seen. And at night, the stars glimmer not, and the Moon cannot be seen, yet the werelight shines. And in these glowing lands of Winternight gather Drego's spawn and they roam freely--for there Adon's Ban strikes not."

Leila spoke up then. "Wait a moment! That can't be so, for Adon's Ban shall rule for as long as night follows day and day follows night; that is His covenant."

Talarin leaned close to her. "My Elendil, you forget: in the Everdark eternal Shadowlight rules. Hence, there day does not follow night, nor does night follow day. There, the Covenant has been broken."

At the Elf's words one of the Men behind Vidron paled, having just arrived and heard nothing of this Everdark. "Broken? The Eternal Ban broken? Now Drego defies even High Adon! How can a meager number of Men and a handful of Elves hope to withstand a might such as that?"

A dark frown passed over Prince Igon's lips as the mans despair, and it was directed towards him. He stepped close into the circle, a small forced, though not obvious. "Ah, but for now, cast aside the thoughts of Windernight and the Everdark, and of Drego's Horde, too, for there is naught we can do to change a jot of it at the moment. Instead, come, bring your company of Elves. You must be hungry, as I was. I'll take you to the Old Fortress for a meal while Marshal Vidron ponders your assignment. And I'll take you to my sire, for the High King would meet with the Elves." Then nodding to Kingsgeneral Vidron and his staff, Prince Igon turned and led the five back to there group. A lighthearted cheer burst forth when it was announced that they were going to get a hot meal.

She smiled then to Igon, crossing her arms lightly. "Would you be offended if I forwent the meal in order to bathe. I am not fond of smelling like lilac-scented human," with a soft laugh. "My dear Talarin has given me a complex about it." She gave Talar a look then, one black brow raised smoothly as if to implicate his guilt in the matter.

~*~


Leila had parted way with the Elven company almost an hour ago and still she was soaking in the hot bath that was just now becoming bearable. The clear water had been scented with oil that she had made and brought along with her. Upon a chair was the clothing she intended to change into. It was of violet silk with green decoration upon it. The pants were classic gypsy-style with enough poof from thigh to ankle. The cut suggested that they would rest low upon her hips. The top was a half-bodice laced with emerald ribbon that would end in a point slightly above her navel and arch up on both sides to make the movements of her hips more pronounced as well as easier to maneuver had she been dancing. A heavy sigh and she dunked herself back under the water to rinse out the bubbles that she'd worked into the thick black strands of hair, releasing the nectar-scented foam into the water.

Talar had managed to slip away after Adaron had informed him that there was no need for them to see the King just at this time and there was still another hour before they would, for it appeared that the King was away. So Talar had taken up a bowl of stew and carried it towards the bathing chambers, having seen Leila disappear in that direction. On Elf feet he entered into her chamber. He paused by the clothes that were hung over the chair. First of all, he knew it was chill in the castle though he felt naught of it...and she would most certainly be chilly if she wore that...and second of all...that outfit would tempt a weak soldier. Softly his voice came. "Elendil, I would that you wore other clothing. Perhaps something more fitting to your new title. These do not seem the clothes of a warrior."

She had been so comfortable in her bath that naturally she hadn't heard him enter, though the sharp, ear-piercing scream let him know with a quickness that he'd startled her. "Talarin en Taure! I am bathing and I am naked, do you mind?!" For some reason she had the feeling that he cared not and would remain in the room with her until he was finished speaking with her. She glanced to her clothes then and raised a brow. "I had not intended on seeing anyone else this night, but if it truly bothers you, then I will find something less figure flattering?" she offered, sinking lower into the water and bringing her knees up to her chest.

Modesty was had to come by with the Elves. The fact that humans still held such had once again slipped from her mind. Her scream had caused him nearly to drop the bowl of stew he had brought her and it brought men running, swords ringing as they were pulled from their sheaths. He spun about, giving her the respect that edainme required...that he had forgotten! Yet the thudding of booted feet sounded nearer and he stepped to the door, holding a hand up, signaling the guards to halt. They slid to a stop and gazed questioning at the Elf. A closed lip smile passed over his lips. "Captain Leila is fine. In my haste I forgot the modesty that Men yet hold." Had a Man given such an excuse he would probably have been taken for a liar. But this Elf did not lie, and so he was not questioned. With a nod of their heads, weapons were sheathed and they returned to their posts.

Leila was utterly mortified. She bowed her head to rest her forehead upon her knees. A heavy sigh before amber and green eyes lifted to regard the fair elf once more. "Now that you have told me what not to wear, scared the ghosts out of me, embarrassed me completely, and seen me naked, was there any real purpose for your coming in here?" she asked, groping at the side of the tub to try to find the towel sheet that she'd placed there. Upon finding it, she took it and held it up, standing and wrapping it around her form before stepping carefully out of the tub and adjusting the sheet around her so that she looked like a little nun with the sheet wrapped over her hair and held closed at her chin and navel, everything covered quite literally. She was being dramatic, but she had to dry her hair some how, and after all, it was rather chilly in that castle.

Now she made his feel guilty. Lightly did his head hang. His back was still to her. One hand lifted, out to the side, holding up the bowl of stew. "Forgive me, Leila. Still I have noticed that you hardly eat...so I thought to bring you some nourishment. Always you must eat, elendil, even when you do not feel the need. For in times ahead, one does not know when their next meal will come." His head lifted, his lips tight and brow furrowing, he would have turned, but did not need her to scream again. "And you were in here for an over a candle mark! How was I to know that you would still be bathing?"

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