The Golden Hall of Meduseld

[Beren One-Hand]

*Maglor's work in bringing the Eagles to the Golden Hall was impressive, but even more so was the fact that the lost riders of Rohan had returned and would provide even more able-bodied men for the inevitable war ahead*

*Glaustar, one of the Eagles at the flank, steps forward and greets the growing crowd*
          "Greetings, my fair Middle Earth dwellers - those who fight for the cause of good.  Dark times are
          ahead of us.  Reinforcements await in Mirkwood, but rather than risk weakening the armies of
          Edoras, we will need to recruit a Second Fellowship if you will.  One that will seek to raise up the
          those of the good in the areas of Mirkwood, Laketown, Dale and the Lonely Mountain.  It has also
          been rumoured that Thrandul may posses, in his treasury, one of the lost silmarils; which without
          this, the Witch King and inevitably, Morgoth will be impossible to defeat."

King Theoden, the "reborn" steps forward and asks for volunteers to warn Aldarion of Gondor of the impending doom . . .

[Wolfchild]

"My good King, I would volunteer for the cause of Middle Earth as swift as the dragon flies, and I would travel the faster upon my good wolf, as did I to come here. But I must have time to steady my men and their horses, who will arrive not long from now, to which I must supervise their stabling. I must also be safe in the knowledge that they are able to guard my most gracious creatures, with, of course the knowledge of the Rohirrim, without my guidance, for the time it will take me to ride there and back, giving time also for my purpose to warn Aldarion in Gondor. Maybe, if there are less busy men of your land, they would be that bit quicker in there arrival, for it is only I who have twenty steeds and half that in men to welcome. Otherwise sire, I will make haste in due course".

[Beren One-Hand]

King Theodon replies: "So then my dear Vearg, is it your wish to travel rather to Gondor than to Mirkwood?  Either way your service to Middle Earth will be great."

*Beren paces back and forth across the Golden Hall like a man who wishes he were two men - if only he could travel to both places.  However, he knows in his heart the quest of the lost silmaril and meeting with Thrandul is where he must go.  He knows that he bears the ability to rally those in the North Eastern region. Beren hopes Vearg might go with him, for he knows she is an ally like none other - equal to Maglor and Camlost*

[Wolfchild]

"Sire, I will travel wherever I am needed most in this upcoming time. Gondor, Mirkwood, or any place in Middle-Earth, it is my intention to follow my king, and the people of this world, to whatever end we may have to suffer to be free of this ensnaring blackness".

*A horn sounds suddenly, clear upon the ears of all, for it is close to the gateways of Rohan, now more than ever. Swiftly, a host of riders upon horseback gallop through into the central courtyard, near to stables and homes, whilst the Hall of Meduseld looms greatly further up the lone mountain. Each horse is leading another, and all creatures seem succumbed to tiredness and evident fatigue for their long journey. Ten men dismount, with Hengestir finding the familiar face he knows, and speeding to it, despite his loss of energy. The embrace of their hug leaves wandering villagers and guards no need for further concern, as Vearg in turn, welcomes the other nine of her Northern friends and kindred*.

"It is good to see you at last, Hengestir! I have missed such a face on my long travels, and the North rides with you, on hasty retreat. You arrive to a company of men and eagles! But quick, let me help to stable the horses, for as I have explained to King Theoden here, my requirement to travel soon again beckons like the crow of the morning cockrel in early springtime. But you must be tired, so once this is done, all ten of you may embrace the call that is ale and smoke!"

[Beren One-Hand]

"Sire," exclaims Beren, "I will take those who are willing, with me to Mirkwood to seek the counsel of Thrandul, and inquire about the rumours I have heard about a lost silmaril being in his possession.  I would be honoured if Vearg would follow along with whomever else would be willing.  Although I would greatly desire to have Hengestir and his noble riders accompany us, I feel that he must stand guard and prepare for open war.  My Lord, send out a messenger to Aldarion to warn him, and to inquire of the situation in Mordor.  From what I have heard, Minas Morgul is the only stronghold of the Witch King, Baradur is still in ruins.  Maglor believes that Dol Guldur might be rebuilt and might serve to be the launching pad for Morgoth's return and for his inevitable assault on Middle Earth.  It would be best, also, to not draw too much attention to our journey to the Mirkwood area; the fewer in our fellowship the better.  Who else will join me in my journey to Mirkwood?"

[Beren invites others to join in this humble story-line and to add their own creativity]

[Wolfchild]

"If messengers be bid to ride to Gondor then I need not worry about being in two places, therefore I may travel to Mirkwood with you, noble Beren, for the creature I take as steed could challenge the mice for silence when needed. Wolves truly are misunderstood creatures, but their judgement will come with time. I think that sending this messenger will save us a great amount of time to focus on the most important of our intentions and aims. Whilst I do this, my men will stay here and offer their wisdom and, as you say, preparation for this war. My Northern kindred are amply prepared to help Rohan whilst I am absent. I desire also to speak with Thrandul of incoming matters, as there is a great deal I, and all of us have to discuss. Pressing matters in pressing hours. But alas! I have animals to attend to; horses least of all".

*Hengestir nods, and turns to follow Vearg to the stables, where others are leading the horses to their seperate stocks. The creatures whinny at the new environment, but are easily calmed by their handlers. The lad slowly sets eyes upon the full sight of the Great Hall, in all it's splendour*.

Hengestir- "And all the nights come to this one; a starry night and a host of war-torn company. Indeed, we have strayed far from Northern lands now. Ah, what fortune awaits the once humble stable-boy that I am. Times have changed. War approaches, but I am not so young now that I fear it".

[Beren One-Hand]

Beren replies: "Undoubtedly your wolf, both fierce and noble, will serve us well when travelling through the wild forests of Mirkwood.  I hope he likes eating spiders."

King Theoden motions to Scroll and Andunie:  "My noble allies, would you ride to Minas Tirith to warn Aldarion?"

*Although it was thought that only men were presently at Edoras, a surprise visitor emerged from the shadows behind one of the horse stables - it was the heir to throne of the Lonely Mountain - Dwalinstone the bravest of dwarves during the Fourth Age.  Currently, his father Durin VII reigned in the Lonely Mountain, but age seems to be getting the better of him, and he wishes his son to once again re-establish the dwarves as a mighty race in Midde Earth.*

*When Dwalinstone appeared, he shone like the sun at dawn - for his garments were made of mithril, and his axe was more impressive and crafted with a skill that all races could covet and envy.  He was even taller and larger than most dwarves.  Beren remembers being told of Thorin the great, and sees some amazing and intriguing comparisons.*

"Any room for a wee dwarf lord to aid in this quest?"

[Wolfchild]

*Vearg, Hengestir and the other nine beastmasters, follow through, leading their equine companions and one wolf, stabling each within the warmth of the Edoras stables amongst a host of other great steeds, evidently cherished creatures of the Rohirrim. This is done swiftly, for all are tired, and night falls upon the lands of Middle-Earth. At the end of the row of horse stocks, there is a medium sized pen, where the wolf of Vearg is lead. By him, Vearg stands.

"Tsyeni, named for your nobleness, where will we ride to next I wonder? Indeed Mirkwood awaits, but there will be actions beyond that which we will be required for following this council. Yes, maybe there will be war. The clash of steel approaches, most definately. And to that end, so does death. But we fight for the honour left in the world, you and I, and all who we aid. You have been by my side for so many years, friend, and this time, it is not just our North in danger. Though we fight in its honour. Sleep now, good wolf".

 

[Beren One-Hand]

*The great company bids Vearg and her wolf a good nights sleep.  Meanwhile, Beren and Dwalinstone get aquanted over a couple of pints of mead, and some salted pork.  Soon after, they take to their sleeping quarters to await their upcoming quest*

[Wolfchild]

*Vearg wakes, and yawns from the tiredness of slumber. Dawn is near arrival, and the first rays of light shine slowly into the stable. Taking a small container tied to her belt, Vearg drinks what liquid it contains, replacing the screw top, and then proceeding to get up properly, not needing to get dressed, for the clothing of the previous day still remains upon her. She looks and admires the fingerless leather gloves and vambraces that surround her hands and arms, with their burnt designs of wolves and ravens etched into them with the skill of her northern partner, missed after days without him. Following one twist of the design round to her wrist, a flash of memory and pain returns, with the sight of the scar her wrist will forever bear. A deep, black, clear mark, shaped like a crescent moon tells of her struggle with the cruel and treacherous Witch King. It was not so long ago that it was put there, and the pain was an active reminder in unison with the sight of it when she witnessed it each day, checking it for infection. The last injury, but no less the worst in terms of what it could bring afterwards, for this mark was born upon every follower of the Witch King's actions and deeds. He knew what this would do for her when seen in the wrong hands...she would be thought of as a traitor and banished, or even killed by her own kind. But she was no traitor. The memory of it being pressed deep, moltern hot, burning into her skin surged, and was shaken swiftly for all the terror it did bring. The vambraces were pulled further up the length of her arm, and it was concealed underneath, as it always was, as long as she remembered.

Taking Tsyeni and leading him out by the harness, she was met by the company ready to travel, as was she, to Mirkwood, land of the elves. It would be a relief maybe, to be in a place of healing and tranquility in the forest regions*.

[Beren One-Hand]

*After a light breakfast, the company makes off for their journey.  Dwalinstone, rides with Beren on his ageless and mighty mearas - Xenophax.  So it was that Vearg and her noble wolf rode with Beren to Mirkwood -  three companions, a much smaller fellowship than that of the Ring years ago.  The remainder of the forces would stay to guard Edoras, and some would travel to The White City to warn Aldarion - who among them were Scroll, Leofric and Andunie. 

*Camlost, Beren's alter-ego remains silent, as if the Witch King himself has put him under some spell back at the Pony.  Beren, having been given the palatiri from Andunie, looks into it and sees Maglor, hooded and cloaked, suddenly fleeing the Pony.  This disturbs Beren, as Maglor was to watch over all western Middle Earth, especially Bree.  But then almost immediately Beren is comforted with the thought that Maglor would come to aid him and his humble fellowship, but this thought still did not give him complete certaintly.*

*Whe riding nearing out the mark, Beren senses that Vearg is scared or maybe upset, and hopes to get her attention, though she is fixated on the journey that lies ahead*

*Glaustar one of the Great Eagles would patrol the skies from Edoras to Mirkwood to serve as a protector from far above - having a truly birds-eye view.  Glaustar flew down to Beren and whispered something Beren's ear.  At that moment Beren fell to his knees: "No, no, no.  My dearest Luthien.  How many times should she part from me?"  He exclaimed.* 

*After being sent back to Middle Earth from Valinor, Luthien, while joining with Beren for short time at the Pony, left to seek our the remaining elves in the Grey Havens and then on to Rivendell.  It was thence that she was captured.  The eagle said that he heard her cries and her suffering, while she was being toltured by the Witch KIng in the high rebuilt tower of Dol Guldur.  The king wished to gather intell about the mission from Edoras and who was to accompany Beren, but Luthien would not give in.  Eventually the Witch King did a dispicable act - he stabbed her with a Morgul blade making her a wraith like them.  No one knew what happened to her at that point.  Some said she become a Black Rider, or even the Queen of the Witch King.  However, the wise held that she perished once again, wondering the wild, and was eventually sent back to Valinor where she would remain forever.  The Valar would not allow her to return again.  The Valar healed her, but even so, she decided that her love for Beren had ended, and that Beren was to move on to a new chapter in his life, without her.  However, she would always hold him as one she had truly love, and would remember all his brave deeds, and their amazing son Dior*

[Wolfchild]

*The company is startled by Beren's sudden outburst, and some, including Vearg, jump, for they were already tense beforehand. Hearing Luthien's name mentioned, and knowing of Beren's love for her, she dismounts from the wolf Tsyeni, and approaches the same man to help him to his feet once again, and calm him of distress. But when she looks into his teary eyes, she sees what upsets him so, before being told what misfortune has befell the love of his life. It is truly an unconsolable grief, and only few words are said between them;

"Noble Beren, she has seen too soon what malice the Witch King can inflict upon the innocent, and this dispicable act will not go without punishment when the time comes for us to do so. Luthien was indeed brave throughout her life, and this stayed with her until her time in Dol Guldur was concluded. At least now she lives in peace, and is beyond the torturous blades of opression that had pierced her so. I know my words do not make up any form of compensation for your time spent together with her, and more so your undying love, but all our souls are with you now. Your company surrounds you; it shares with you your grief, and look too how some weep for you, they offer their respects also. Take time now to clear your head sir, and forget not that we have still a duty to Mirkwood- I do not doubt that Luthien, wherever she may be, would always want you to prevail. Her love will always be with you".

*Vearg helps Beren to his feet, and watches as he decides what action now should be taken, whether he should find himself a place to think for a moment, or press on to Mirkwood as before. As Vearg turns to remount Tsyeni, though she has maintained a strong face until then, a tear falls slowly from the right eye, and around her various horsemen can be seen, some bowing their heads in respect and memory, and others drying redenned eyes*.

[Beren One-Hand]

*"Noble Vearg, truly I say that the Valar knew that you must be appointed to be one of my companions on this journey, for without your kindness and support, I fear that the grief of my loss would have taken my soul back to Valinor.  What Luthien and I had will never be lost, but now is the time that I move forward into my destiny, whatever that may be.  Now is the time that we as a company, a small fellowship may band together and face even the greatest foe that Middle Earth has even seen - Morgoth.  This time he will not be so fortunate as to escape only loosing a jewel.  No, this time he will loose his head and will be destroyed forever.  The Valar themselves would destroy his soul if this were to happen.  For I would cast his worthless body into the sea, and let Ulmo himself have his way with him.  The mighty Lord of Waters takes no prisoners, but is wise and just, even to the unrighteous."

*"Thank you again my lady, for your wisdom and support.  As it is almost nightfall let us make camp where we stand."*

[Wolfchild]

*Vearg nods her head, then turns to various packs and saddles carried by herself and Tsyeni which will form a basic, but restworthy place of sleep and cover. Soon she has chosen a place close to the majority of other tents in mid-construction by the rest of the company, but still keeping a slightly secluded distance away to use the benefit of an ancient oak for additional shelter. Within an hour or more, the campsite is complete, and a host of tents are scattered across it, with people talking amongst themselves, or engaging in tasks such as starting fires to cook with, settling horses, and some undiscreetly smoking long wooden pipes to ease the nerves that had riddled them for a time since their departure. Vearg herself was weary, and longed to lie down for the night to be refreshed for rising with the first light of the morning. Doing thus she bid a short 'good night' to a few nearby, made sure Tsyeni was comfortable, and took comfort within the confines of the tent constructed in what turned out to be very good timing, for at that moment the skies opened and rain began to fall increasingly quickly, the clouds passing gloomily under cover of darkness. Inside the tent, Vearg checks the scar, noticing a faint blackness that had not been seen before,  but thinking naught of it, rests her head upon an empty pack and soon is drawn into a realm of dreaming. All around her seems silent, and darkness eventually envelops the entire campsite*.

[Beren One-Hand]

*After a short rest, the company set off yet again.  Soon they had left the realm of the Mark, and on Dwalinstone's heeding, decided not to travel through Fangorn forest.  Although things had improved in Fangorn, nowadays, as compared to times past, things were still unsettled and even uncertain in that Forest.  Tree Beard, by all known accounts of the time still patrolled those forests, but to venture into them unguided, would be foolish.  The company had no ranger among them, nor did they know how to seek Tree Beard or any of the other Ents.  Therefore, the company, after several days of travel, crossed the Onodlo (River) along the eastern edge of Fangorn roaming into The Downs.  And it was here thar they would have an extended encampment, for the company was weary with travel, after relentlessly pushing forward in their northward journey.*

*Over a large bonfire, the company ate and drank, and were happy with each others company.  But amidst the happiness and joy that was at hand, a slight, and even faint whinnying sound could be heard.  It was Xenophax.  Something, or maybe someone had spooked him.  One doesn't have to know much about horses to know that they are easily spooked, but are also very keen and have an awareness unlike many other animals.  Beren approached his noble steed and spoke to him calmly: "My Lord Xenophax, what startles you this quiet night?"  The horse replied, sounding shaken and afraid: "Although the Barrows are well hidden, and could be seen as a great place to camp and even to hide, I feel that the Wights of Angmar still dwell here or maybe have returned.  Keep watch.  The Wights would be greater in number than we, and would seek to capture us for their own pleasure - none other than sacrifice."

*The company decided that each would take their turn in keeping watch over their encampment, for fear of being attacked by any Barrow Wights.*

*Suddenly, and as Vearg was barely into her shift, she heard a cold, screeching sound, which pierced both the ears and the mind . . . *