The Great Quest

*When exactly did that take place? The next day, or earlier in the same one. It's night where Mal and the others are.*

"Requesting an audience will probably work, if we can get past his counciler, Grima. I've heard from many people the influence he is gaining over the king, and even to a degree over their everyday affairs."

"Do any of your magical properties include mind controlling?" Slythre asked Mal. "Fighting our way in would be totally counter productive, and only succeed in landing us in prison as well."

There was a silence, and then Slythre looked up at the others with a curious expression on her face. "Do you think that that would work?"

"What?"

"Perhaps as a last resort, we could brawl or something to get us captured and put into there. Even stripped of our weapons, we could probably escape from their control and rescue the others as well. Getting past the outer guards would be nearly suicide, but this way we'd be brought past them. We'd need a way out once we get in, or perhaps some distraction to keep the guards from getting us out."

At the look on their faces, she quickly raised her hands to forstall immediate arguments. "Don't worry, this is only as a last resort. If we cannot contact the king or find any other way, I think this should certainly be a possibility."

"It might work," Gungar said slowly. "But I agree, only as a last resort. Tomorrow we should contact the king."

Slythre stood up. "If there isn't anything else to discuss now, I'm quite tired after the journey . . ."

"Yes, we've done the best planning we can at this point," Faradin agreed. "Good-night, all."

Soon, they'd all gone to their different rooms. Night faded into morning, and they got up. Their meeting with the king awaited. If they could only get there.

*The meeting of the watchers took place shortly after Mal and the others arrived, that same day.*

*Okay. Well, it's your turn to post. And I'd like it if you did something with Harnauro as well. I'm a little tired of doing a solo in that area.*

*Ooops, sorry. I was logged in as my sister. That is actually my post.*

Mal rolled out of bed as the sun blinked in through a window, quickly closing the shutters and blocking its light. Looking about, he verified that the room had not been disturbed while he set, and then prepared for the day.

As he prepared to leave his room, he met the others at the door, for they were already prepared themselves, and had some servants with breakfast behind them. Waving his friends in, and taking the food from the servants, Mal closed the door gently behind him as the others made themselves comfortable.

They ate in silence for a while, then Gungar spoke up. "What is the plan for the day?"

Mal responded, slowly, as though weighing the words as he spoke them, "First, let us try to lawfully gain an audience to the king. If that should fail, let us remain relaxed through the day, perhaps simply appearing to view the city, and then, just as night falls, before the changing of the guards, we can try and sneak into the dungeons. As shown before now, we are good at going unseen, and even our dwarven friend, like all his race, can walk with much greater silence than most men."

Faradin replied with a touch of worry, "If we go before the guard change, they may detect our absence - should we not go after it?"

"Nay, for they have so far not been checking that we remain, and if we reach the prison during the changing of the guard, it will be easier to creep in."

The rest nodded, for though the plan had risk, other options seemed even worse. Finishing their breakfast, they made a quick start to meet the king. The guards at the front of the building watched them carefully as they were leaving, and one barked, "Where're ye headed?"

Mal responded smoothly, "We but go to seek an audience with your noble lord, good soldier."

The guards eyes still were narrowed, but he made no objection as they walked by and towards the kings hall. Reaching it, another set of guards blocked their way. After they were told the parties desire, they conferred amongst themselves briefly. One said, "Wait here," and then went back into the hall alone.

Exhanging glances, Mal and the rest waited patiently and watched the sun creep into the sky. After a long while of waiting, the guard returned, and said curtly, "Follow this way."

He led them down a hallway, and into a room that was bedecked with a moderate amount of wealth and taste. At the front of the room, a small man stood with his back to them. As he entered, he turned about, smiling slightly, his hands rubbing together. The guard left, but this man obviously felt secure, for a number of other guards stood at attention about the walls of the room.

"How may I help you fine individuals?" asked the man, as they wondered where the king was.

The ranger spoke calmly, "We expected to have an audience with the king."

Smiling a wide and servile smile, the man responded, "Ah, but his majesty is laid low with illness, and has many other more important affairs of state to attend to when he has time. I am sure I can answer your questions and requests just as well."

"And you are?" Mal asked, an eyebrow raised.

The man recoiled, as though offended. "Why, I am but a humble servant of the king, Grima, a lowly soul who advises our great king." His voice grows a bit harder, as he tilts his head and asks again, "Now then, what may I do to help you?"

*Ooch, that's a nasty point to leave off. I'll sidestep the issue and proceed to more interesting things, if you don't mind.*

"Hardly a gentlemanly way to treat guests," Slythre remarked after they had been removed from the hall. "But I suppose we could expect no better from the likes of him. And it was a rather difficult circumstance."

"You handled it pretty well, considering," Gungar said to Mal.

"Then I suppose we'll have to move to plan B," Slythre said, looking in the direction of the prisons.

*that had been about where I had been expecting the discussion to go anyway. I would have had more, but had to leave. Been fairly busy lately. Later I will post stuff for both Mal and Harnauro.*

*Good. I'll wait till then. You still have the floor.*

Lufilla Galadon, leader of the resistance agains't Lord Thaldsan, was please. Her last prospect seams to be like the ideal spie. Well the fact that he was leprous only help and it also make sure no one would want to arrest him. he was perfect.

Mal, Slythre, Faradin, and Gungar walked out of the king's hall, the guards frowning at them. The audience had NOT gone well, and they had never even gotten to meet the king. Returning to their rooms, they conferred together briefly.

"After that, they will surely keep closer watch upon us," said Slythre darkly.

"Aye, but it won't be close enough," Mal said with a smirk. "Truth to tell, I didn't expect much to come from the meeting, especially hearing about the influence this Grima has gained over the king. And from what I have seen of the guards so far, while good, our skills shall surely get us past them with ease."

"Let us split up for the rest of the day, then," spoke up Faradin, resting against one wall and watching for any who would approach.

The others nodded agreement, and split up, going through the city. The guards glared at them, but made no move to follow. However, as they all traveled their seperate ways, they would spot some of the soldiers trailing them. Mal wandered through the marketplace, perusing and commenting on various items, but remaining calm and inconspicious throughout. Eventually, night began to approach, and he returned to his room. He spotted Faradin returning, as well, and only nodded. Another pair of guards stood by the doors, but parted to let Mal in. Soon, he was resting in his room.

As the sky grew dark at last, he made his move. They would watch the windows, of course, so he simply walked out of the door to his room. Glancing down both sides of the corridor, he saw no guards. A sound to his right, hardly noticable, heralded the entry of the rest from their own rooms.

In soft tones that only the others could hear, he said, "There are guards at the main door and the back, and watching most of the windows. If we go down to the kitchen, however, and go out through that window, we should get out fine. They will be watching, of course, but in the darkness, likely will not see us."

"I don't like it much," said Gungar, "But it seems the only thing to do."

The rest nodded, and within moments, no signs remained they had ever been in the building. To the guards positioned to watch, the change in shadows as the group flowed over the wall and across the lawn looked like the simple flicker of clouds crossing the moon far above.

They stopped near the jail. A half dozen guards lounged outside of it, and doubtless more lay within. Mal and the rest waited in the shadows nearby, and when the guards looked up, seeing their relief coming across the lawn, and headed towards them, it was an easy task to slip within without notice.

*Taking place about half an hour after Mal and the rest creep into the jail...*

The captain saluted the departing guards, and signaled to his men to fall into position. They stood at attention till the true guards had left, and waited to make their task seem truer. After a long while of waiting, they then swiftly turned and headed up the stairs.

Arriving near Mal's room, he gestured for the others to draw weapons, and then slammed the door open, jumping inside with his own blade drawn.

And staring about at the empty space. Eyes widening as he realized the absence of the 'guests', he spun about, scowling at his men.

"Let uss alert Lord Thaldsan! And ssee what he shall do about thiss!"

Harnauro stared at the sleeping forms of Elrov and Ayna through the first hours of the night. After this new addition the day before, he had felt a foreboding sense of upcoming disaster, and wondered if it was connected to them.

As the moon reached its pinnacle overhead, Harnauro sat up, and began wandering around the campsight. He looked back down their path, towards the hill they had left behind they day before. A strange emotion stirred in him and he wondered at it, for it had been a long time since he had felt compassion for others.

A rumble passed through the ground, sending even the sure-footed wolf to the ground. He jumped back to his feet, rapidly, twisting about, looking for a source. He saw nothing, but another shake disturbed the clearing they were in, and he saw Ayna and Elrov come awake from the disturbance.

Suddenly, the earth before him billowed upward, and he dove backwards as a monstrous shape ripped out of the ground. Six limbs led from a bulk covered in an ebony skinned hide. The legs and arms were tipped with monstrous claws, apparently for digging - though they would serve as well to rend a creature with ease. The monstrosity turned its head upon Harnauro, and he recoiled in disgust, for a questing tongue poked out in his direction, from a toothy mouth that was the only feature of its face - eyeless, yet it rushed towards him with surety. As it appeared, Harnauro felt a strange feeling within him, but dismissed it as the beast lumbered towards him.

A snarl erupted from him, and he hurled himself above it, landing upon its back, and pulling his own lethal claws upon its skin. Yet, for all his power, he could do barely more than dent the skin, which felt as hard as rock beneath him. A strange gurgling noise came from the beast, and it bucked, trying to through him off. Claws digging in as much as they could, Harnauro held on, while Ayna and Elrov watched in horror.

Suddenly, weakness stole over Harnauro and the monster threw him from its back, to the ground. Stumblind back up, he realized his change as he stood on two legs, instead of four. He tried to will himself back, but nothing occured! His eyes widened in disbelief as one immense limb lashed out, slamming into him and hurling across the clearing, and into a tree across the way.

The monster 'looked' about once more, its tongue twisting and licking at the air, and then it dove once more into the earth, its hide shining with an internal dark glow.

Ayna and Elrov rushed over to the tree - broken when Harnauro slammed into it - and looked in horror at the broken form of a man, not a wolf. A low moan was the only indication that the twisted body still lived, and they froze in horror at the blood, and the bent angle the body lay at.

Vardor reached up, taking the scruff of the bat's neck in his cold fingers and pulling himself onto his mount. He glanced up at the night sky, and then nodded to himself. It was time to go. If he remained any longer, he had a feeling that things would get rather uncomfortable before long. Plus, he still had that eagle alliance to worry about. They were being rather stubborn, and sometimes he almost thought they could see through his plans.

The bat's wings spread, and the beast soared into the sky, turning into a dwindling speck and disappearing in the darkness.




Slythre approached, unseen and unheard, creaping up silently behind the first jailor and wrapping her cloak around his face, muffling his cries as she knocked him unconscious. The next was bound and gagged without any problem; he found Faradin's sword very convincing.

Moving silently from cell to cell, they continued their search.




The Nrake opened Dania's cell door and entered, his nose twitching at her scent. Something was wrong. He knew it even before he entered the room.

She sprang to her feet at its approach, and eyed him warily. It was staring at her with equal amounts of anger and surprise. Suddenly, it opened its mouth and let out a howl, fangs gleaming in the torch light.

"WHERE!" Its scaled hide tightened. "WHERE!" it screamed again. "TRICKED! DECIEVED! LOST, ALL LOST!"

It lunged, claws stretched out, incredible wrath written on its face.

Her dagger jammed into its waist, and she kicked up, throwing the creature over her. Rolling to her feet, she seized a stool from the floor and swung it with fierce speed at her assailant. The Nrake was holding the dagger with one hand, and defended itself from the stool with the other. The stool was smashed to pieces, and the Nrake stood, drawing the blade from itself and raising it to lunge.

Abruptly, the shadows of the walls leapt from their places, wrapping around its body in a deadly embrace. A second later, they shifted back to normal, and the body collapsed on the floor.

Even as Mal, Narsh, and the rest of the band entered Dania's cell, Ayna lifted Harnauro's head in her hands, looking into his face. "He's a . . . a man."

"Or was," Elrov remarked. "And he was a far better fighter than we are."

He glanced at the thin line of trees between them and the horror of the night, and then continued. "Come, we must get back to Ethrilien as soon as possible."

"We can't leave him."

Elrov seized the body and slung it over his shoulder. "I'll take him. Now go!"

Ayna swung up onto the saddle of her horse and galloped off, instantly disappearing in the trees.

Elrov heard the scream of a horse from behind him, and knew that his horse was no more. If it hadn't been for that slight distraction, he doubted that either he or Ayna would have been able to get away. Already he could hear the pounding footsteps coming nearer, as it began to search him out.

As quickly as he could, Elrov stumbled away into the trees, glancing fearfully over his shoulder every now and then.

The footsteps had gotten farther away, and fainter by the time Elrov sank to the forest floor, lowering the body and gasping for breath.

Ulrog had no trouble tracking Anya and her companion. The scent and the trail of dead orcs made it fairly easy. He paused from his work as he heard a horse galloping swiftly in his direction. Ulrog lept aside and readied his bow, with one of the poisoned arrows he'd prepared. As the horse flew past him he could see that the woman riding it was his target. A nasty smile crossed his face. Ulrog quickly loosed an arrow in her direction and saw it thud into the flank of her horse. The poor animal made it a little further before sinking to the ground. Ulrog drew another arrow and lined up his next shot.

Ayna turned around in the saddle to look for her assailant just as another arrow whizzed past, this one lodging in the bark of the tree right next to her.

Quickly dislodging her feet from the stirrups, she scrambled away from the horse, ducking behind the tree and stringing her own bow. She glanced to the side, and saw that her quiver of arrows was still attached to the horse. Many of the arrows had spilled when it fell, so she reached out from her hiding place towards one. Quickly, she moved in and out, collecting the arrow and nocking it on her bowstring. Just then, an arrow stabbed into her shoulder.

With a small cry, she dropped her weapons and stumbled to the ground. The arrow hadn't been fired by a very strong bow, though.

As she pulled it out, a wave of dizziness came over her and she stretched out her hand to the tree trunk for support. But the tree trunk wasn't where she'd thought it would be, and she felt a small flicker of surprise as the leafy forest floor rushed up to meet her.

As Mal rushed into the cell, he cursed harshly, surprising the others, for any break in his calmness was unusual. He shook away his irritation, as Narsh, still limping from his own captivity, rushed to Dania's side. Mal watched for a moment to make sure she was well enough to come with them on her own, then darted back into the corridor. He had not wanted to use the power, but it had been that or let the elf die. He felt something stirring, and knew that something, somewhere had sensed him, and was on the way. Another low curse escaped his lips. '

It was only compounded as Slythre ran down the stairs where she had been watching for guards, and called out, "Soldiers are approaching in force!"

"So much for stealth," muttered Gungar.

"Indeed," came the soft snarl from Mal, "But we have those we came for. Let us be out of here as fast as we can!"

The others wasted no time acting on his words, bringing Narsh and Dania behind them and rushing out of the cell, in search of a way from the jail that would not be blocked by soldiers.

Harnauro's eyes flared open. He sniffed the air, smelled only the elf laying on the ground near him. Harnauro spun over, sitting up and looking about. No sign of the girl. Or the monster.

As the memory of the fight came back to him, he reached down to his chest, and his hand came back sticky with blood. But it was old blood, and the hole that had been torn in his chest was gone. He stood up, and his back, which had surely been broken, was whole again. As he realized he had healed - as he did every time - light tears came down his cheeks, and a growl grew in the back of his throat.

When he had felt the beast suck away his magic, that curse that let him change form, that kept him whole and immortal - and suffering - he had hoped for an end to all the years of pain and misery. But his reprieve had been only temporary. He was still alive - still living, at least - and had to concern himself with affairs of the living.

He turned to his side, and saw the elf lying on the ground apparently collapsed from exhaustion. Harnauro's eyes narrowed, as he looked about, his nose twitching. Where was the girl? He smelled her scent nearby, and that of something else... an orc?

He took a step in the direction he smelled her, and nearly collapsed. A low laugh escaped him. So, he had apparently been able heal, rather than embrace the death he sought, but not healed enough to do what he wished while still bound upon this world, denied Eru's gift.

Iron will came upon his features, and he forced himself to walk forward. He reached upon his back, but found that his great bow was gone. It must have been left after the battle with the beast - he would hopefully have to retrieve it. He hoped it had not broken, but it had been crafted by expert elves, and was sturdy and strong. Dismissing it for the moment, he crouched, agony racing through him, and went in search of Ayna and the orc.

The captain of the Rohirrim, or at least one who wore such a shape, stalked into the corriders of the jail with a scowl upon his face. With him were a dozen of his own men, and three of the jailers. As they came to the empty cells of Dania and Narsh, his face grew even more angry.

"They must sstill be here," he cried, "and we musst find them! The rest can be dismissed, but take the shadow man alive!"

One of the jailers looked at him, curiousity on his features. "Those aren't his majesties orders - the elves are the important ones, they have to be kept alive for interrogation!"

The captain turned to him, slowly. The jailer stared back, puzzled, until the captains arm lashed out, snapping the mans neck sharply, and the corpse slowly sank to the floor. The other jailers gave cries of alarm, and reached for weapons, but the rest of those under the captain drew blades lightning fast, plunging them into the bodies of the jailers before they could respond.

Without a thought, the captain turned away. "Ready your bowss - if we catch them in one of these long corriders, we can down them from a distance. The place iss not large, they should be near!"

Mal and the others quickly ran from passage to passage, hearing footsteps and shouts coming from behind.

Slythre pounded her fist against the wall in frustration. She knew there had been a backdoor around here earlier. They had planned to escape by it, but where?

"This may keep them sidetracked for a while," Faradin said as he split open a nearby prison cell, releasing a dozen wild eyed ruffians from their prison.

Just as they dashed out of their cell, the Rohirrim soldiers rounded the corner. There was a shout at the sight of the escaping prisoners, and Faradin broke in one more door for good measure, releasing a couple more before joining the others in their flight.

"We can't be too far," Mal said, frowning in concentration. He didn't have much time, now.

Just then, they found it. Six soldiers guarded it, but they were quickly dispatched by the trained fighters that opposed them. None were killed, but the aches and bruises they recieved would be difficult to forget the next day.

Quickly drawing aside the bolts, they leapt out of the doorway. A patrol of Rohirrim were just crossing the street. They stopped and drew their swords, ready for action.

Quickly Mal whispered to them where they should meet, and they split up, scattering and disappearing in the darkness.