Hytorax Part 2

[Arat-Falathion]

Malagar had already spoken quite some time with a few of the others when he came before Glimdrell. They stood there for a while, considering eachother for some time, both realizing the age and experience in their bodies and mind.

"And what may your profession be?" Malagar said, breaking the silence. "I can handle the bow quite well." Glimdrell said. "But my true skills lie in the dagger." He produced his slender dagger, it was skillfully made, crafted in times long forgotten.

Malagar nodded. "You plan to battle man to man with such a short weapon?" the man said, quite uncertain that it would be a good idea. "I never needed a sword before, my strength is not sufficient."

Malagar smiled and nodded. "We may end up on an open field though, a place that won't give any shadows to lure in, only open battle. You would have five on your back before you could sneak up on the man before you!"

Glimdrell sighed. "Then perhaps I must say my farewell, perhaps my destiny is written to another road..."

"Have you ever tried to wield a lighter sword? Like a sabre? Those are light and well balanced, one-edged and slightly curved. You may want to consider such a weapon."

Glimdrell waited a moment to answer this. What if he agreed? How would he prove in war with a weapon he was totaly unfamiliar with? How could he prevail with such lack of skill on a battlefield, where enemies and friends would run around him from every direction?

Without even realizing his movement, Glimdrell nodded. Then he stammered slightly, unsure if he had made the right decision.

"I would need someone to show me a few moves and tactiacal strategies though." Glimdrell added. "Or else I would be dead before the first man stood before me!"

[Tessar]

(bah sorry! I checked and I some how missed the new posts the first time!)

“I have my wits, and more speed than one might think.” Elise said coolly at Malagar’s question.

There were few now who did not know of her powers, and the man before her should know exactly what she was capable of. Assuming her recognized her. She recognized him, oh yes, she knew who he was now.

Elise no longer bothered to wear her drab robes, choosing instead to simply wear the fine green dress she had owned for such a long time. And her necklace of course, with the bright green gem sparkling on its silver chain. Her staff looked changed too, the wood a richer brown and the engravings much more clear.

Would he recognize her? Elise was certain he would, even if it took him some time. She was certainly not about to help him along. Whether his intelligence was still as keen as ever was a question that would soon be answered.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren walked towards the throne room. His meeting with Malagar had been short. Everyone now knew what he had done in the dungeons, with just a sword. He had told them of his skill with a bow and even some axe training, as well as his healing skills. But his magic he kept to himself. Now he sought the king. Vahatres was sitting over a map when Fimbren entered. "My lord" Fimbren bowed, "Has a messenger ben sent to Eomer in Rohan, or to Aragorn even. The horses of the Rohirrim are swift and strong as is the small cavalry of Gondor. The could make it here in time."

[Mathron]

Malagar grinned at Glimdrell's words.

"You know how to wield a weapon - learning the art of another will come much more naturally. Already you possess speed and instinct - the first requirements."

Mal chuckled, and rubbed his jaw. "And my own strong suits, as
well."

He nodded, having reached a decision. From within his cloak he drew out a slender blade, and Glimdrell blinked, for surely he had seen no sign of a weapon beneath the folds of the outfit before. But there it was, resting in Mal's hand - a saber, finely made, just of the type spoken of.

"Take this," he said, handing it to the elf. "You will find that while the strategies you are used to will not avail on the open field... they can be adapted. They can be manipulated."

As Glimdrell took the blade, Mal clapped him on one arm. "While we await our mission, I will make sure to meet with you. You'll master the weapon - I'm sure of it!"

[Mathron]

Malagar almost circled around Elise, the two of them exchanging cool glances. He felt, more than saw the power in her, and the awareness of it was more a result of his own inborn power than anything he was actually attempting to do. His own power he left untouched, and as such, he could neither probe nor examine who she might be.

But he had his suspicions, whether she would tell him truth or not.

"Speed of body and speed of mind," Mal said softly, "Will both be important in what we do. That, plus our experience, is something the two of us undoubtedly share. Rest assured that I shall be counting on you in the days ahead - both to decipher the scrolls, and then to be a leader in our assault on the Shadowhand."

With that, he bowed to her softly, and turned as though to leave - though he paid the courtesy of slowing long enough for her to respond to his parting comment.

[Mathron]

Vahatres looked up as Fimbren approached. His eyes were weary from his lack of sleep - these last few weeks had been trying.

As Fimbren voiced his concerns, Vahatres gave a despairing sigh. "Aye," he responded, his voice still strong and booming in the chamber. "As soon as Malagar came from Rivendell, and confirmed for himself his suspicions concerning the Shadowhand, we sent out messengers. To warn those who might aid us of the situation, foremost, and for aid as well."

He paused, and his gaze fastened securely upon Fimbren. "But it is not to be so easy. The messengers will take time to get there, and will be delayed, likely, by our foes. But the true danger is in the aid itself."

He stood, gesturing Fimbren closer. "Look ye to the map. See the regions marked in black? Not many, fortunately, but those already have begun to side with the sweet words of the Shadowhands. Look though, at the many marked in gray. That is most of the country - undecided, listening for the thread of war, and trying to see right from wrong. No easy task, mind you."

He paused, his gaze lingering ever so briefly on the white regions, few and far between, disappointment visible in his eyes - and then he shook his head. "If the Rohirrim came with their horses, or the Gondor forces with their strength, it would only confirm, for many, the lies spun by Dagankor. This is a battle that our country must win for itself - if we ally with foreign forces against our own people, they will abandon us."

As Fimbren looked back at him, upset, the king suddenly winked. "It is not as hopeless as it seems, though. Should some smaller forces come - fast and swift, as they can surely be - they can harry the Shadowhand themselves, while staying out of the forefront of the war. We must be careful, but we will not turn away our friend's aid in this time of our need. When the time comes... I am sure we will not fight alone."

[Mathron]

Between the shadows of the castle and the earth, between the hours of the night, darkness lurked in the King's Citadel.

Aasinav's shadow reported back every few days... and every time it came and went, it was stronger, more wily, more... alive.

It was a dangerous thing, to use a Shadow for so long, so often - and to leave it so far from one's side. But Aasinav needed it for this task - the information the shadow carried was too valuable to abandon.

He heard of the new hero that led them, and of the plans they made. So they thought they understood the Shadowhand's plot? Ha!

He collected the knowledge his shadow gleaned. The weaknesses of their army. The weaknesses of their allies. The weaknesses of the king himself. And the weakness of each and every one of their team, for use when the time came.

Back in the castle of the Shadowhand, Aasinav nodded to himself in satisfaction.

The heroes were already doomed.

[Arat-Falathion]

"...I will make sure to meet with you. You'll master the weapon - I'm sure of it!"

Glimdrell sighed with a pleased relief at Malagars last words. He tested the balance of the weapon, it felt strangely familiar to him, somehow right.

"I have no words to thank for such a gift, given to me without open reason." He knew that the war was brewing, and that that was the main reason of the gift, but it was not everyday before a war one recieved such a fine weapon from the hands of a stranger.

Malagar only chuckled. "Take it for the gift it is. I should guess you will find a time to repay the gift in the storm coming."

Glimdrell nodded with a glee and tested the weapon in a slow sidelong arch, then returned the motion. Malagar smiled at the obvious joy in the elfs eyes, like a child...

Glimdrell would practise this weapon from morning to night for the comming days, Malagar was sure. He would find his way to treat the sword effectively, the sparcle in the elven eyes bore more than enough proof to that statement.

[Earniel]

As Glimdrell tested his new weapon Imarwyn watched on with a slight touch of jealousy. The elf would soon be deadly with the saber, she knew.

Imarwyn herself would never learn to handle a new weapon that fast. And her daggers might be useful in skirmishes but they were not entirely suited for open warfare, as her brother was quick to point out.

Malagar has spoken shortly before with Tareod and her. To his question whether they still wished to go on despite the dangers ahead both rohirrim had said yes. And Imarwyn still intended on doing so. She would just have to find another way of being of help in this war than combat.

[Arat-Falathion]

Back in his room Glimdrell sat on his bed with the sabre before him. He touched the blade jently, feeling the surge of power going through him, and he couldn't deny the excitement he felt.

He stood up and piered out the window beside his bed. The grassland outside was tempting. He had to go out there on the plane and practise. His excitement made him run out the door.

[Finrod Felagund]

OOC: Bact 2 the top!

[Arat-Falathion]

OOC: AHHHHH! I HATE THAT "ESC" COMMAND ON MAC COMPUTERS!!! CURSE THEM TO HELL AND BEYOND!!!!! I WAS NEARLY FINISHED WITH A LOOOOOOOONG POST! AND THIS "ESC" KEY AUTOMATICALLY DELETES IT ALL!!!!!! AHHHHH!!!!! CURSE THE MAC, CURSE THE MAC!!!!!!!!!!


Ahhhh... well, I'll just have to start over again I'd guess


BIC:

Glimdrell shifted back and forth, twisting in circling movements and dipping low, dodging effectively. He grew more and more comfortable with his sabre, it became more and more a simple extension of his arm. He cut it through the air in rappid movements, graceful movements with deadly speed. His agility and years of experience helped him efficiently in his practise, and indeed he had improved dramatically over the last few days.

"So the rumours was true..." a woman's voice interrupted his practise suddenly. "I heard rumours of this elf legend which had come into our city, a legend trying to learn the art of a longer blade. I must admit my curiosity. How quickly can an elf, of such age, adapt to new ways of fighting?"

Glimdrell turned around to look upon a beautiful woman approach from the road. He noticed the slender blade she had in a scabbard on her left hip, and the graceful movement of her hips. Glimdrell couldn't help but smile at this beautiful being. She replied with a laugh, as if she had read his mind.

"I am Iriana, daughter of Arendil, the swordsmaster and proud soldier of Athalt Cranain's army..." She brushed delicately through her shoulderlength, brown and straight, hair and shifted her balance point slightly to one hip. "And I am a hearer of the song..."

"The song?"

The question had barely left Glimdrell's elven lips when suddenly her sword was arching towards him. Only his years of experience saved him then, for purely by unconsious reaction he managed to get his sabre up in line with the incoming sword. Glimdrell froze, dazed at the tremendous speed of that move. She had been standing ten feet away, and had come upon him even before he could consiously react! A simple twist with the blade sent Glimdrell's sabre out wide, leaving his neck defenceless.

"First lesson! Never stop a defencive motion, turn it into a offencive counterattack by continuing the movement naturally in effective combinations. You do not want to give your opponent the upper hand by letting him come at you again and again, -you do not want to back down on your heels! Surely you know this, elf!"

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell nodded, both at her lesson and her disaproval. Indeed he knew that offence was the best defence. She stepped back a step and started to spin her sword into flashing combinations, truly baring her exceptional prowess with the slender blade. Glimdrell went into a defencive stance, moving his sabre before him in both hands, looking upon the woman with profound respect and thus forcing forth his consentration thus more.

Just as suddenly as last time, she came at him with a blurr of movements, leaving Glimdrell looking at a wall of flashing steel. This time he was better prepared though. He worked as best he could to see her feints and deflect her attacks.

Suddenly she dipped low, feigning a cut to his knee, but twisted suddenly impossibly fast in a complete circle, placing her sword high above Glimdrell's shoulder in a descending arch. Glimdrell's sabre was already helplessly low, but again his uncounsious reaction saved him. He was on his back, his sabre defencly out above him before he even registrered his own movements. Iriana's slender sword rang against the blocking sabre, and as the motion played itself out, Glimdrell caught her swordhand with his free, and twisted.

He watched with delight as Iriana's eyes widening with surpise as she suddenly found herself under the elf, her sword harmlessly wide and locked in the elf's stronger grasp. Glimdrell placed his sword, with a triumphantly grin on his face, on her revealed neck. But to his surprise he found his delight outmatched by the mocking laughter of the seemingly defenseless woman.

"You are already dead elf!" She laughed, mocking him and causing his elven cheecks to go red. Only then did he notice the dagger in her free hand, poised point blank toward his bare neck.

"Never believe to win against someone bigger then you without the assistance of surprise! And never think yourself a winner before your enemy lie slain at your feet!"

Glimdrell got back to his feet, chuckeling all the while, barely believeing what had just transpired. He helped Iriana to her feet, her glee still spread wide on her face. Moments ago she had shown a look of total surprise as Glimdrell had countered her attack, a display of perfect imitation. He knew she had faked that notion to surprise him tenfold, and probably make him less aware, of her swift daggerattack.

"How can you perform so fast?" Glimdrell had to ask, indeed she had shown the elf swordplay beyond any he had ever seen.

"It is all in the song..." Iriana replied crypticly, the glee not leaving her face for a second. "It is all in the song!"

"Song?" Glimdrell had to ask, not understanding a word of what she just had said.

Laughter was the only answer he got though. "We'll meet again, fair elf. Be sure of that." She laughted heartedly again, walking away from the elf on the grass, leaving him in contemplation of many questions, and especially one... the song?

[Finrod Felagund]

OOC: darn Iriana, I was about to come and test Glimdrell's skill...oh well , i guess i can anyways.


ic: Fimbren came up to Glimdrell and asked "Who was she?"
"I wish I knew..." replied Glimdrell.
Fimbren smiled, "I have come to see if the rumours are true, if you have truly become a master of the sabre, and if you can stand up to an elven sword master...bearing a master sword at that" His eyes twinkled like those of a grandfather teasing his grandson, which, in many ways, was what he was doing. Fimbren pulled out Ringil, Glimdrell, like the others, was in awe of the sword. Without realizing, he whispered aloud "The very sword of Fingolfin..."
Fimbren smiled again, "I do not know why the sent it to me with Mithrandir, perhaps it has tasks yet to do...it has certainly done many already...This is the sword that wounded Morgoth himself...and I have carried it through fights against Balrogs in the depths of Moria, and against creatures as evil in Minas Morgul..." Without a beat, the sword was swinging towards Glimdrell, and his reflexes barely saved him as his sabre came up to deflect the blow.
"Good" smiled Fimbren, "Be ready at anytime, for anything". He swung again, feinting left, then right, suddenly he spun away. As Glimdrell dropped his guard Fimbren dove and slashed low. Glimdrell jumped as the shining blade sliced the ground where his feet had been, Fimbren stood at that moment and knocked himself into Glimdrell as he came to the ground, and Glimdrell flew back, sabre flying from his hand. Fimbren put the point of his sword against the younger elf's throat. "I win" he laughed.

Fimbren sheathed Ringil and held out his hand to help Glimdrell up, Glimdrell gripped the hand, and then wrapped his legs around Fimbren's and jerked back.
Fimbren tumbled to the ground next to Glimdrell.
He stood quickly and his eyes flashed, Glimdrell was worried for a moment, but Fimbren's mouth turned up to a smile.

"Very good fight young one, one of the best I've had in years." He held out his hand again and Glimdrell pulled himself up and smiled at the ancient elf lord. He gripped his hand for a moment and Fimbren said "I will feel all the safer knowing that you are on the battlefield with that sabre." He smiled and walked back towards the castle.

[Arat-Falathion]

"Young I may be in the eyes of such an ancient..." Glimdrell whispered, staring at yet another dueler leaving him. He had to chuckle at the notion, how excited everyone was about all this with the sabre. He picked up the blade from the grass and examined it carefully, letting his fingers move along the edge of its blade. Indeed some cuts had cracked into the fine sharpness, battering it slightly.

"So I have learned a lot of things this day!" Glimdrell finally declared, looking up from his sabre. He nodded to himself, he still had a long way to go, still he would be a victim on the battlefield if not luck alone saved him. But the days was ending he knew, he could feel in his heart that the day of just was soon at hand.

He crossed the grass and got onto the road again, quickly shifting his mind back to the question that had haunted him since the duel with Iriana, the Song, what did it mean?! He shook his head in disbelief, she was refering to the song as if it guided her blade, as if the song itself had put her body into such impossible speed of movement. But it still sounded absurd, that would be magic, and no human Glimdrell had heard of could perform any of such, it wasn't humane.

He had to confront Elise he finally declared, had to ask if the istar knew about this song which Iriana was speaking of...

[Lief Erikson]

"Iriana?"

She was seated on the wall surrounding Néred, looking down over the city. She turned her head back toward the speaker, away from the lights gleaming in the darkness. It was night in Enedwaith.

The man who had spoken emerged from the shadows, and walked up to her. He leaned on the parapet as well, and looked over the city wall.

"Captain?" Iriana said, sliding off of the parapet quickly and standing to face him.

Athalt glanced at the city, for a moment, as she had been doing. "Be at ease. You wanted to come with me to Dunland, but I would not permit it. I needed you to continue the training you have been doing so helpfully among our Spearhead Legion. Now, however, the times are different."

He was quiet for a moment.

"Is it true, then?" Iriana asked. "Will there be a civil war?"

"Hruad and Dolais went out to prevent that, if they can. More important still, though, is the mission Malagar is leading now. I have gained the king's approval to send you there, among them."

"You needed his approval?" Iriana asked, in surprise.

"The king takes very deep personal interest in the success of this mission. I, here, am going to continue to work to martial our forces and prepare for the worst. That is what we in Néred will be doing. Meanwhile, you will join Malagar and the others. Do you know what he looks like?"

"I can find him. I will tomorrow."

"Good luck," Athalt said. He turned then, and left her.





Aralle smiled at Gil. "Yes, I saw he was learning the sword today too. It'll do him good. A knife in the dark isn't nearly so clean as the blade with a challenge. It is necessary, though."

"It's scary, the idea that he, for so many years, was a knife in the back of people," Gil answered.

"It can be," Aralle said with a small, knowing smile. "But . . ."

Something seemed to strike her between the eyes. She was searching for something, searching hard, looking through the forest . . .

"What is it?" Gil asked, concerned.

Something more struck her. Sleep, she needed sleep.

"Aralle?"

"What?" Aralle asked Gil. "No, I'm just tired. Good night."

She was stumbling up the stairs. Yes, she knew she'd been rude, but she also knew if she didn't get to bed, she'd fall asleep on the floor.

She saw her bed before her. She'd closed the door behind her. She was searching for something, searching hard. Trees. There were trees about her, and she saw a road.

Aralle's body hit the floor limply.

"Dolais, draw your sword."

"What is it? Do you think it's trouble?"

"Before us. It's too quiet, and those trees close between the road. We need to go back, go around by another route."

"Hruad . . . that could take us days. The fork to the other route to their encampment is just as likely watched as this."

"Draw your sword, Dolais, draw it! Look!"

Their horses shied, and Dolais whipped his blade from its scabbard. Figures were running up from down the road, but more were coming from behind.

"This way, into the forest!"

An arrow came out of nowhere, several arrows. Hruad was lying on the earth, screaming, with one hand clutching at his shoulder. His hand was red with blood.

"Go on, Dolais, get out of here!"

There was the clash of blades. Dolais had cut the head off of the nearest orc, and the creature's body sagged to the ground. Three more were upon him though, two with swords and one armed with a heavy spear.

"Just get out of here, Dolais!" Hruad gasped. "This is no time for heroics, you fool!"




Then Aralle was awake.

[Lief Erikson]

"I am hosting the company in the gardens tomorrow morning," Vahatres said, calmly. "You will of course be attending. Bring Iriana, also. I think Malagar should meet her."

"Of course, sire," Athalt said, bowing. "She will be pleased at last to be involved in a real mission, where her skills will be brought to bear."

"She trains soldiers of the Spearhead Legion, does she not?" Vahatres asked.

"Yes."

"That will be good news for the assassin from Lothlorien," Vahatres said with a smile. "We will need as much skill and courage among the members of this force as possible. We can trust Malagar to bring the intelligence and cunning that is needed."

"The company is all in good order, yes. The state of our military forces is not, though. Do you mind talking with me about-"

"Tomorrow," Vahatres said with a smile. "Tomorrow. It's late. We have some time, still."





"Malagar?"

"Yes? Aralle, I think your name was."

"You are the leader of our company," she said, stepping inside. "So I felt I should tell you first, before the others. I must leave, as soon as possible. Tonight, if possible."

"Tonight?" he asked, staring. He pulled back his chair and stood up, his fingertips moving away from the paper he'd been writing on.

"Yes. I cannot be a part of the quest."

"Why not? What's wrong?"

"I have been told by the Valar, shown by the Valar, as sometimes happens with my kind, what I need to do next. It was through the leading of the Valar that I came to the company in their time of need. It is at the command of the Valar that I leave you now."

"What have you been told?"

Aralle hesitated. "I . . . you need to know, and so does the king. I saw Hruad and Dolais, attacked. Their mission has failed, and they are in the hands of the enemy."

Mal looked at her for just a second longer before nodding, accepting her story. "You are a griffin."

She did not answer.

"Yes, I should have seen the signs more quickly. Go, then. You are the agent of the Valar, not of me."

[Mathron]

Malagar moved through the castle halls without a sound, without even the hint of a whisper. He didn't even do it consciously, but old habits were hard to break.

Hruad and Dolais captured - dark news indeed, and one that would likely be the fuel to start their quest. He had spent the days since his arrival watching the members of what would be his company. They were ready. They were eager.

And soon, they would be at war.


---


In the darkness of the castle walls, Aasinav's Shadow lurked. Every day he let it loose to linger longer and longer - and every day it grew stronger, grew in power of its own. Still bound to him, but for how much longer?

It laughed silently to itself, eager to discover its power, its freedom. And perhaps because of its contemplation, it was not as aware as it should have been as Malagar came striding down the corridor.

The Shadow was invisible to mortal eyes, and beneath the notice of immortal ones, just another dark spirit intangible and incorporeal. It hovered in the space between worlds, and currently resided in the wall of the castle, a foot of stone between it and any ability to be seen.

But as Malagar passed by it, he froze, and turned to stare directly at it. Startled, the shadow fled across the land, back to its master, at full speed.


---


Spies, Malagar thought, shaking his head. They send shadows to watch over us. Fools! Malagar knew all too well the dangers of shadow magic - it was he who had invented it, and he who had corrupted it, long ago.

But if that is what they use, it is a weakness. Still, the others need not know about this. Let the enemy think us unaware. And when the time is right...

Malagar resumed his walk down the corridor. This incident only further convinced him that the time to move out was nigh. First, to tell the king and Elise of Aralle... and her vision.


---

Aasinav turned from his work, looking towards the King's Citadel. Something had startled his shadow, and it was returning to him. He frowned, unable to tell what had frightened it.

"Heh," he laughed to himself, "Perhaps they are finally ready to begin their assault." He grinned, smiling without any true emotion behind it.

"I'll be waiting for them."

[Lief Erikson]

Dawn broke the night sky, and servants worked quickly to set up a long table on a lawn in the citadel grounds. The company gathered, upon the king's command, joining him for breakfast at a single long table. Only a few were at the table that were not members of the company.

When the members of the company had finished eating, Vahatres rose to his feet. He wore his crown, and deep purple robes. His vest was black, and he wore a blue sash diagnolly from chest to waist. Attached to the end of the sash was a sword and scabbard.

"Friends," he said. "You have answered the threat to Enedwaith once, and with incredible bravery, have helped to save my life and my country. The darkness which shut out all light now has been forced backward a couple steps, for it no longer has me in its grip. But its hold over my country remains, and grows ever stronger.

"You have answered the call. Some of you here already know what your next mission is to be.

"As many of you know, we have learned from Dagankor's papers that the Hytorax is a magical item that can be linked with others to seize the power of magic on an unprecedented scale. It is a piece of a vast power that is being formed. It is not yet completed. If it was, the war would be lost for Enedwaith already. Not only for Enedwaith, but probably much of the rest of Middle Earth would fall under threat from the shadow that would emerge.

"This is our task. You have saved me, but I ask you now to go further. This next task will be of deeper peril than the last one, and will inevitably lead you into darker places.

"There is a castle within which this magical . . . force, is being created. It is the center of the Shadowhand's power. This is where I need you to go, so that you can either destroy this power or wrest it from its makers.

"Malagar will be leading the company of the willing. This is the most vital need for the kingdom. This is the reason I have summoned you all here, because I know that among you are those who are ready to go on this mission. To marshal and to send it forth. How many of you will go?"

[Lief Erikson]

Aralle sat silent, waiting for the company members to begin rising. As many as would go. She still remembered the king's words to her last night, that she needed someone to go with her. That it was best that she not go alone, but should have another to bring aid.

"Elise is needed on the quest, Aralle," he had said, when she had been summoned to join him, Elise and Malagar. "This is important, and I do believe that you have received orders from the Valar. Indeed, you must go. There can be no doubts about that. But I have no one I am immediately prepared to part with. You could be killed, alone. Remember, you are going into the place Dagankor is dwelling at. He is there, and he is probably expecting a rescue attempt. If we are to penetrate, it will have to be someone experienced. I shall bring it up later, to the company tomorrow morning, after breakfast."

Vahatres was speaking about something else, something probably more important. It was not Aralle's place to help with that, though. The Valar had other plans, and them she must follow.