Cyllamdir found himself on the wall together with man
y other archers, when the wargs approached the gate. He closed his eyes for a moment, fully concentrating and listening to the pounding of the approaching wargs. Then he opened his eyes again, and saw that the enemy had come closer very fast. Quietly he took one of his arrows and laid it on the string of his bow. He felt the fear of the men around him. He sighed.

The wargs began to howl as they were close to the town, and then started to charge. Cyllamdir quickly raised his bow and closed one eye. He held his breath and aimed for the neck of one of the charging wargs. Cyllamdir released the arrow and it whizzed through the air. The warg was hit in his shoulder and it roared while shaking his head. Cyllamdir rapidly fired another arrow and this time the creature was hit in his throat. It fell to its side and Cyllamdir knew he brought the warg down. He shot more arrows but without real effect.

Then the gate was breached by the obvious leader of the wargs. He and the other wargs coming from behind him were creating a real havoc running through the gate and
killing people. But then something else caught Cyllamdir's eye: spiders were climbing the walls! 'Spiders!', people shouted. He slowly shook his head and a sad look was on his face. The first spider reached the top of the wall and pulled a man down. Cyllamdir quickly took an arrow and aimed for the spider's head. The arrow hit the spider in the eye, and shortly after another one hit it in its body. One last arrow was needed to let the spider fall off the wall.

Cyllamdir removed his hair out of his face with a single movement of his hand and looked down. His face clouded because of what he saw. He realised he was trapped. He couldn't go down as lots of wargs were there, moving and killing about. And spiders climbed the walls all the time... He stroke the feathers of his last arrow. He shot it down to a warg, but unfortunately he missed in the utter chaos. Then he unsheathed his blade, holding it with two hands.

Cyllamdir had to make a decision: stay on the walls or go down. He saw how Kaldor the dwarf finished off a warg, and he smiled lightly. He noticed that the people who were not on the wall were driven back slowly. But then he saw something which troubled him a lot. A great warg stalked the dwarf Kaldor from behind. 'Behind you!', Cyllamdir shouted, but he didn't hear him. Cyllamdir ran off the wall as fast as he could and drove his blade throught the warg's body. But then other wargs jumped on him and the elf fell to the ground and screamed, his blade fell out of his hands...

_________________
The love of Arda was set in your hearts by Ilúvatar, and he does not plant to no purpose.

As the warg attack could be heard and the roof-top defenders shouted they could see the incoming offence, Dwalvyn shouted, "Loose arrows!" He had ignored Kaldor's comment about not having fought in a long time and considered that he hadn't fought anything particularly dangerous since before the young'un had been born. He steeled himself and prepared for the crushing pounds bursting through the gate. The melee started and he was ordering men to hold their ground, taking swipes where he could and mostly ditracting wargs enough to allow the men to make their attacks with the spears, remaining a slightly safer distance from the jaws than if they were pointed at the guards. As the attack intensified, he saw Kaldor barrelling into the largest amongst their foes and heard a cry of spiders on the walls. He began to work towards the walls and pulled out his battle axe, holding one in each hand, he hacked and slashed, progressing slowly. He'd felled two of the beasts with lucky neck shots as he worked across and saw one of the elves jump down as Kaldor was pounced on from behind. Dwalvyn tried to rush to their aid, but the press of fur and bodies became too much and he found himself floundering as the defenders were on the back foot. He cried in angered pain as teetch bit hard into his left forearm, casuing him to drop his battle axe and a laboured swing of his walking blade to hew through the beast's skull - the weight of the creature pulled him down and the jaws were trapping his arm. He swung as best he could to aid the men and defend them, but they were soon separating. Things lookd bleak, but he fought on, not giving in.

Once two of the companiobns had been taken away, Sulvan slipped around the fighting watching degfenders struggling against the band of wargs. One of the men lying slain mere feet from him was an archer so Sulvan quickly swapped his own quiver of arrows for the dead mans, then looking up he saw giant spiders climbing the walls. Spiders, he though to himself, this does not seem like Tuor's style. Only one Black Numenorean with less power than the Mouth of Sauron was this brutal, Vrâsghul. Not good, he thought, time to do something, before his Shadows arrive, Sulvan did not wish to displease him. Then he heard the dwarves shouting, interrupting his thoughts, and saw the gates burst open, and and an enormous wild warg chieftain burst into view, with several lesser beast. "Fire at them, he told the archers nearest him!" Then, he slipped away. He decided to go and find Vrâsghul, for he knew he would send for him, he knew that the man would kill him if things did not work according to plan, but expected Vrâsghul to recognise that he was invaluable. As he watched the men, elves and dwarves strugggling with the wargs and spiders, a dark, slithe being entered his feild of vision from the corner of his eyes, and, with plan, in mind, made his decision....

_________________
"I am the Flying Spagetti Monster. Thou shall have no other monsters before me"
-FSM.

Turgwaith and Hathol were carried to Dale... Turgwaith was glaring at the king...
He captured them and took their weapons for being they won't kill him...
' Men are really worst than anyone?'
He was glaring at the king and Brand have saw him... But it arrived the time that Brand would get irritated...
" What you want?" He asked.
" You find us wounded in the snow and your soldier capture us... You took our weapons and carried us on this chariot..." He answered to him calm...
He turned away and whispered " Men are hopeless..."
" You are a man too... Don't forget it..." Brand said trying to win with his words...
" I know... I said men are hopeless... That includes me so I am hopeless too... I didn't say I am different..."
" So don't you have any friends that are men?" Brand asked with a sarcastic look.
" I had four, only two are alive as far as I know..."
" So what you want me to do?" King Brand asked...
The chariot was moving to Dale and they were moving to the right and then to the left...
" King, Dale is under attack..." A sodlier shout... Brand was surprised at his words...
He turned and looked at Turgwaith still surprised...
" Let me fight..." Turgwaith replied...

As usual, the fog was thick in this part of middle-earth. Vrâsghul watched the spiders heading for the village of Dale. "Pitty little creatures",
he thought, "so unaware of what's happening". And easy to manipulate he added in silence. He turned and watched the poor Tuor struggle.
The man was caught by dozens of cobwebs. "And dear Tuor... Could you tell me what you are doing here ?", he asked.
Silence.
"Oh yes", Vrâsghul drew his dagger and freed the mans mouth. "I was acting under a direct order of the Barad-Dûr!", the mouth stutterd.
"No, you where acting under a direct order of yourself!" said Vrâsghul.
Silence again.
"It was I, and I only who went to that bagger-beard for information. And I only who investigated every possible detail about this mr. Baggins.", said he, his iron mask only centimeters away from Tuors naked face, "I have planned this opperation years in advance, and when everything should finally start to unviel itself, an ugly pet from gorgoroth walks unasked through my door and starts a foolish attack, that even a troll could come up with!". "I'll get myself free and when our masters hear about this..." said Tuor bravely. "Then what ? Do you really think they would take your ways abouve mine, Vrâsghul, marshal of Dol Guldor!" Oh, he loved the silence that followed again.
"But if you think you can convince them...", he cut Tuor free from the cobwebs, "have a go. I won't stop you...."
Tuor looked at him in disbilief. After a couple of seconds he turned and started to run. As fast as he could. It took 20 seconds. 20 seconds for the little spider to jump on his foot and inject it's deadly poison.
"... Maybe they will", finished Vrâshgul. The convulsive Numenorian tried to scream, but the poison had already reached his lungs. Then,
in a last attemped to revenge himself Tuor spoke one word. A word of magic, in the black tongue itself. A word that means death.
But Vrâsghul only laughed. He was familliar with death.

_________________
We must forgive our enemies...
But not before they are hanged

Hathol was silent all the time since the men of Brand took them on the carriage...
He tried to resist but using hisblade would make the things words...
He heard the conversation between Brand and Turgwaith but it was cut by a soldier who said that a battle war raging on...
Turgwaith asked for permission to let the two of them help their companions...
' So he cares...' Hathol thought hering him saying horrible thigns a little before...
He waited King's Brand answer with agony...
" We will come too... We will keep our eyes on you..." He answered...
Hathol and Turgwaith step ont he earth and run towards the village along the other soldiers...
The soldiers were almost 50 carrying both bow and sword...
They let them pass in the front to keep an eye ont hem expect the Kign who was soem emtres front of them
" I hope our companions are fine..." Hathol said and looked at Turgwaith...
Turgwaith heard him of course but didn't turned to look at him remaining concetrated to run as fast as he could...
Hathol did the same althought his wounded leg kept him from going fast as the others...
" Hold on! Reinforcements are on the way..." King Brand shout...
And they kept running towards the city...

_________________
"The stars are veiled.Something stirs in the East. A sleepless malice."-Legolas, The Return of the King

Sulvan saw the Shadow approaching him from behind, and careful to choose the correct time to strike, when he was sure one of his human enemies was watching before launching a mock-attack on the creature that they had not yet noticed. He lunged forward clumsily, aloowing the monster to knock his blade out of his hand and release it's knock-out breath on him. Sulvan had hoped to avoid this part, but it was necessary. He felt the world slipping from his grasp as everything went hazy...

When he awoke he was lying on the ground next to the corpse of his prior employee. This surprised Sulvan, for he did not expect him disobey the Dark Lord's orders. He felt around his sheath for his sword, then remembered he had let it drop on the top of that building.

"Master," Sulvan greeted the Black Numenorean, with mock-chivalry, "I see that you sent for me." Sulvan chose his next words carefully. He knew that Vrâsghul was dangerous, he could have him killed in a heartbeat, the Shadows were too powerful, and though he knew that Vrâsghul was not the best fighter himself, he would easily win against an unarmed man, that is, if he felt that he should even raise his own arm. However, Sulvan also knew that the man was no fool, and would not kill him whilst there was still a use for him. "I am yours to command, for the right price that is. That bag of gold there," he pointed to the bag slung around Tuor's neck, "I will provide information to you, and remain spying on them. I recommend, that you either call of this attack now or finish it quickly because a traitor ranger and an elf," he spat that word, "have dissapeared, and there may well be reinforcement." It may be better to bide our time." He waited for the man to respond, wishing his sword was still at his side...

_________________
"I am the Flying Spagetti Monster. Thou shall have no other monsters before me"
-FSM.

Cyllamdir lay on the ground and his sword fell about 4 feet away from him, near a small house of which lots were to be found in the city. He had to get his blade back, but he was surrounded by wargs and he realised there was nobody in the area close enough to help him. In a second he thought about the time he left from Mirkwood, when he thought it would be unnecessary to take a dagger with him. But now he was in dire need for one.

Cyllamdir tried to roll to his sword, and mud appeared on his purple cloak. But then, a warg climbed upon his chest with his front legs. Cyllamdir moaned and he struggled to get loose. He kicked and punched the beast, and finally managed to get free. But the creature opened his mouth and bit the elf's forearm, and the cloth turned from moss-green to dark red. He gritted his teeth and crawled to the blade, and once he reached it he held it in his hands firmly, not wanting to lose it again. He slowly arose and saw the same warg that bit him charging him, and Cyllamdir made himself ready for it. He heaved his blade above his head, and with one mighty slash of his beautifully decorated sword, he cut off the head of the terrible creature. Cyllamdir's arm hurt even more after the slash, and he knew the situation wasn't one he would get out easily...

Several wargs and spiders approached him from all sided, and Cyllamdir desperately swung his blade around, holding a couple of enemies off at a time. He was fighting for his live, so he fought hard. He slew a few enemies, but he didn't see that one warg that attacked him in the back. It swung his powerful paw through the air, and Cyllamdir felt his nails in his back. He was able to shout 'Help! Please!', just before everything became black. He head hit the wall of a house.

_________________
The love of Arda was set in your hearts by Ilúvatar, and he does not plant to no purpose.

Horns sounded in the distance.
"reinforcements!" cried one of the defenders.
"The day is ours" cried another!
The horns sounded many times and the wargs were scared, scared enough to know they would surely die if they were to stay in the town. The wargs retreated initially, but the chief warg was a vile and cunning creature who had a keen sense of hearing. He listened hard to the sound of the horns and how far away they were, he knew his pack could clear up the survivors before the reinforcements arrived.

Cyllamdir was awoken by a curb slap to the face:
"Wake up yer flimsy little elf" Taunted Kaldor, who stood directly above him, Cyllamdir was in an alleyway with the dwarf, Gramm had taken the role of look out and was surveying the road around their alley while Dwavyln stood inbetween Gramm and Kaldor, he was resting on his axe, probably thinking of the parties next move.
"The horns sounded right before you were being promoted to first course!" Cried Kaldor "Once the wargs had fled we pulled you out of the street into here, I think everyone else is barricaded in the castle, waiting for reinforcements"

Kaldor then told the brief, yet impressive tale of how he, Gramm, the guards and Dwalyn had made it away from the madness at the gate by retreating into a street then knocking a watchtower down, forcing the wargs to climb through the barrier or take a different route, which bought everyone enough time to retreat to the castle, except the party, who had to seporate from the townsfolk to rescue Cyllamdir.

Kaldor sat in the alley and took a moment to regain his breath, he was a fighter by title but battle certainly took a toll on the dwarf, he removed his helmet and combed his thick, black beard. Gramm did not seem too drained of his strength, but he was feinting a weak front, as not to come across arrogant.

After regaining his thoughts and thanking the Valar for the good Dwarfen craftwork of his vambrace (which had protected his arm from all but some heavy bruising), Dwalvyn looked up and spoke, "Well fought. A bad omen, but it is good to see that we can defend oursleves. Particularly against larger numbers if it comes to it." He paused, taking a deep breath, much needed after the combat. A life of advising had made him lax in stamina. "We also seem to have lost two of our party and I believe that my memory was jolted during our melee with the wolves. I am Dwalvyn, consol to Dain, and I reiterate my offer to take our quarry and coinage to our destination. If others have comment, please make it heard and restate your name. I'm not as young as I once was and do not wish to offend those that have had their monikers slip my mind." He remained with an open gesture, which was pleasant in appearance, but he was not smiling due to the seriousness of their situation and his ambassadorial etiquette. He gave a slight wince as his armour pinched his bruised arm.

Gramm paused to take stock of his injuries. It appeared that he had come through the battle relatively unscathed, barring a couple of bruises and a cut on his temple that would leave a nasty scar if he didn't tend to it soon. The fighting had been thick and fierce in the courtyard behind the main gate, and Gramm felt that he had acquitted himself well. It had been difficult to hold himself in check with the stink and excitement of battle swirling around him, however, Gramm knew that he could not surrender to the urge. Not with so many people around...

The monstrous Warg leader was larger than any he had seen in his lifetime, although his nuncle had told stories of creatures half again as large. Still, Gramm had personally slain three wargs with nothing but his steel-shod staff and long, wicked dagger, which he hoped would help his case with Ellette's father. He carried three bloody ears as trophies.

The Dwarf warrior and the elf were recovering from the battle as well and appeared to be tired and sore, but not badly injured. The pompous dwarf was going on about names and titles and appointments again, so Gramm figured he should just humor the little guy and offer some information about himself.

"As I said before, I am called Gramm, from the village of Dolby in the Vale of Anduin. My people have lived there many years, and we have endeavored to keep open the fords and mountain passes since the goblins were broken at the Battle of Five Armies. I was sent here to report some suspicious travellers in our lands and see if King Brand or King Dain knew aught of their comings and goings. Hrothgar asked that I join this party as I have spent some long years stalking the lands between the Dale and the Misty Mountains, and so I have a good knowledge of the land. Perhaps I can even convince my nuncle to forego the traditional tolls, should we choose that route, since we carry a warning to an old friend of my grandsire. I care not for your gold and haven't much use for your scribblings, so you may keep them both, for my part."

_________________
Respectfully,
Jonathan

Do what is right, love mercy, and walk humbly

Battle Companies

The battle was terrible...
Spiders were falling dead of the wall... While Hathol was fighting one fell on his head...
He awoke later... He got away away from him the giant spiders that were now lying dead on his body...
They were huge and they were hard to move even dead...
' What happened?' He thought to himself and got up.
He remembered he was fighting and turned around worried about his companions...
' Turgwaith...' he said as he saw him and went to run to arrive his place but Turgwaith disappeared in the mist of the night...
It was strange... 'The mist wasn't there during the battle...'
He thought and sat down on a giant spider...
' Are the others alive?' He thought to himself as a careful person...
' No... Why do I care about the others so much?' He asked himself...
Then to him came a memory of old.
It was night upon a tree... His brother lonely as he was used to watch the beautiful stars...
Hathol feeling pity on him for beign alone his whole life accompanied him...
" What are you doing?" Hathol asked his brother and gave him a smile...
With his right hand his brother was holdign his left side... He was wounded days ago...
" When I look at the stars I feel more near to others persons as I know that somebody else out there would be watching them..."
He said and they remained there... They were just looking at the stars until his brother turned to look at him...
" Hathol?" He asked... "Yes?" Hathol simply replied turning to look at him...
" When you go to your mission, I want you to remember something..."
" What is it?" Hathol asked being a lot of interested to his brother's advice...
" You are a careful person, you get bonded to someone very fast... But I want you to watch... Make good friends because in this world there is nothing more precious than the true friendship..."
Hathol now udnerstanded... Since he was born he would trust the others on easy...
' I true easily bond to someone..." He thought...
He got up and walekd throught the mist to look for the others...
After some minutes of seek in the mist he saw them... At elast many of them...
The Muscular tall man, the elf warrior and the two dwarves standing together...
The dwarves looked at him with surprise... 'They must have passed me for dead...'
He thought... The man gave him a smile as did Cyllamdir...
All of them had wounds... ' Where are the other two ?'
He asked himself...
He turned to others and instead of talking he just gave them a smile...
A friendly smile...

_________________
"The stars are veiled.Something stirs in the East. A sleepless malice."-Legolas, The Return of the King

Turgwaith fought with all of his powers... The enemies were many but of course not endless...
He was full of sweat and he was brething heavy... A warg was coming his away when an arrow fell on it and so the warg fell on him...
He hit his head on a rock...
When he awoke he removed with force the warg that was on him...
It was ehavy but he succed to remove it...
He got up and looked around...
' It can't be he thought...' Eveyrwhere dead men and wargs, spiders scattered everywhere... The ground wa spainted in blood...
The mist was thick and he walked further into it...
He got on the wall...
'Same here...' He thought as he was walking carefully on the stairs... He didn't want to walk on the dead corpses of men...
Many spiders have died on the wall and green blood was scattered among the rocks...
He rested against the wall...
' I didn't die today... Like I care..' He thought...
Somethign was hurting him on the top of his leg...
He saw a warg's tooth was stuck on his cloth...
He removed it but then he saw something that was on his right pouch...
' Of course, how could I forget...'
He said and took the small item out of his pocket...
It was a small crystal in the shape of a star but inside it was a small part of metal...
' Now I remember... I promised to the one that gave it to me that we will meet again...'
He thought and looked more close...
The small metal has a sharp edge that was turned towards the other side of the city...
' I can't die until I fulfill my promise... The person told methat this metal called magnet is always pointing at the north...'
He walked down the stairs fast to leave but stopped on his tracks before the gate...
' No... I gave a promise to them too... I will accompany them to their journey... If I don't keep such a small promise how can I keep this big one..."
He said turning his hand to a fist...
He put the crystal into his pouch and turned away and walked throught the mist to find them...
' I must go with them...'

Kaldor turned to Hathol as he entered the alleyway and was about to cry out in joy before remembering that there were wargs about so he decided not to make so much noise.
"Typical Elf, always absent from a fight, no offence Cyllaamdir, where on earth have you been then?" Inquired the dwarf, he was glad to see his companion again but that gladness led him to another question. "What of the other one, the ranger from the north, do you know if he survived the battle?"
Before Hathol could reply Kaldor interrupted him
"Wait, what about reinforcements, do you know how far away they are?"

Turgwaith walekd between the mist... The mist was so thick that he could notl see where he was walking at...
He looked to the ground...
' I must find the others...'
At one point the mist started to become a lot of lighter...
And walking towards the north he saw them...
Everyone was walking... The battle was over and everyone's was safe...
They looked at him surprised...
' I would have the same look...'
"Sorry for acting as I did... It was fool and dangerous..."
They forgived him althought the elves just stared at him with emotienless looks...
" I have something to discuss... There is a traitor somewhere..." He said and some started to argue and some started to think who might he would be...
" This is easterlings arrows..." He saw them the arrow that had hit him on his shoulder...
" I saw someone shooting us from the wall... Hathol was with me... And where is Albaron?"
Then it might be when all of them saw that he was missing...
'Better if I don't tell them he was the one thorwing arrows, In the begin I thought he did it for the wargs but then along the memory that he wa son the wall came the memory that the arrow didn't stop fell even if the wargs were dead... May if I confort him alone... No I must stop thinking only about myself...' He thought but then a voice said...
" And how a ranger of the north knows about arrows of the east?"

"Khandish weaponry are regular imports here in dale, but they are generally kept under the radar, or are looted from the dead bodies of easterlings" Replied Kaldor "But nonetheless, you were shot, i haven't seen any orcs around and wargs can't as hell shoot so one of the defenders must have shot you, i doubt it was purposeful, a mysterious object in the distance could be anything, maybe even a wraith! I doubt one of us a traitor, there were many men fighting in this town, it could have been anyone."

Before Kaldor could continue a great spider leapt down from the top of the building to their left and began mauling Kaldor, before anyone could react they all found themselves knocked to the floor by the hulking bodies of giant spiders. The spiders were as tough as spiders can get, and were fighting with a mad anger not even a dwarf could acheive, Kaldor found himself being bitten and stung many times, and felt a great piercing sensation in his stomach and he looked down, to his horror he saw that the spider had stabbed him with it's rear needle "NO!" He cried out as the spider collapsed to the floor, a spear was stuck in its head, he looked over the body of the creature to see a tall, stern man rush over to him, followed by a large group of soldiers who instantly began killing the spiders and helping the party to their feet, no-one else had sustained a major injury.

"How are you, Dwarf" Asked the man. Kaldor's vision was hazy, he could not see much of the man's appearance but his voice was kind and gentle.
"Not good, i think it jabbed me, damned creature!" Cried Kaldor
"Very well, I will have you bought to the palace immediately" whispered the man "Jalrey!" He cried "This dwarf requires aid, bring him to my castle and have him treated!"
"Yes my liege" Replied the man in the distance.

Castle? My liege? Something seemed a bit off to Kaldor before he passed out but he felt too sickly to make a conclusion about what was going to happen to him.......

"I think you're my first servant that tells me what to do."
Vrâsghul turned.
"But, to answer your question, yes, my messangers are on their way. This foolish attack should even never been started."
He walked towards the kneeled man. "Dear, dear Sulvan... Can you tell me why I should ever trust you. You're a traitor among traitors. A seeker of coins.
You would follow a tree if it would pay you enough!" The mans face was as white as the icy tops of the Caradhras.
"But, as I have no other piece on the opposite side of the bord, I'm willing to take you're offer." A smile appeared on Sulvans face.
"No grand-scale attacks from now on! We will move and attack from the dark. Eliminate them one by one...
Go! I want to know everthing about your compagnions, their greatest hopes, biggest dreams, and most horrible fears."
Sulvan stood up, and looked desireful towards the bag of gold coins. "We'll talk about that later", the Black Numenorian said.

He watched Sulvan leaving. Be careful pawn, he thought, Darkness is watching you

_________________
We must forgive our enemies...
But not before they are hanged

As the night progressed, Dwalvyn rested for their journey ahead. Before they'd even begun, they ahd been attacked and in no small number either. He doubted it was a coincidence, even if the guards had been absent, and it made him nervous about how such a knowledge of their foes' need to stop them could exist. It all dwelled on his mind whilst he took the coin that had been given to him as thanks for defending the town to get his vambrace repaired - it wasn't broken, but the warg's teeth had bent it out of shape and it would chafe and make his bruising worse if left as it were.

----------------

Dwalvyn awoke at dawn, dressed and grabbed some of the fruit and bread that was in his room, eating it as he chcke through his trappings and ensured that he was ready for the coming journey. After his breakfast, he headed back to the forge to claim his wrist armour and thank the smith. He left and checked out the work: not bad at all for a man and better than a fair few Dwarfs as well, he thought as he placed it on his forearm and moved to the kitchens to procure some food for the travels. He spent the rest of his coinage on the food and place it in a sack that he wore, leaving with his gratitude and heading to the gate to await the others at noon. Whilst he waited, he cleaned his armour and blades, which he then sharpened on whetstone.

When Cyllamdir awoke Kaldor stood just before him. Cyllamdir wasn't pleased at all with the language the dwaf was using. He looked at him with an expressionless face. Not a single word of thanks came from Kaldor's lips, although Cyllamdir saved him after all, risking his own life. He looked around now, inspecting everything very well. It was clear the fight had been won, and he smiled a bit, but it was barely visible.

Cyllamdir spent the rest of the day resting and tried to walk around a bit. There was much wind and it drizzled. He saw the anarchy that the attack had left, and some people were burying the bodies of the men that fell in the battle. He whispered a few words for their spirits and then went inside again. He rested during the night, although he didn't really sleep. Now and then he hummed one of the songs he had learned at home to himself.

Next morning he got up before the sun rose, and he went outside to watch the rising of the sun. He felt much better than the day before, and his mood was slightly better. When some money was given to him, Cyllamdir mumbled a few words to thank and then began to walk through the town streets. He thought of the things he would need on the journey ahead. He went into an armoury, and bought a simple yet effective, short dagger without a sheath. He put it under his brown belt, to his left side. He also bought a pair of sturdy boots, more durable than the soft ones he always wore in the woods of Mirkwood. The road ahead could become more rocky, so he supposed he'd need those boots. Somewhere else he purchased a pair of unobtrustive, dark brown, leather shoulder guards, and also a chestpiece of the same material, which he could wear under his robe. He also bought some food that was appropriate for travelling, and put it in a small bag to his side. He took his bow and arrows and put them on his back, as well as his sheathed sword. He checked if the dagger was in the right place, and if he packed all his provisions.

Cyllamdir was finally ready to go, and made for the gate. He saw that the dwarf Dwalvyn was already there. He walked up to him, greeted and then peered into the distance that extended beyond the gate.

_________________
The love of Arda was set in your hearts by Ilúvatar, and he does not plant to no purpose.

Sulvan left Vrâsghul's side, contemplating his approach. Still swordless, he pulled his bow from his back, and strung an arrow in place, ready to shoot anything moving, be it warg, spider or defender, but to his greatest surprise it was incredibly quiet, and there was no sign of movement. As he approached, there were bodies of humans, wargs and spiders scattered across the snow, smearing it with blood. He looked through thehumanoid bodies, searching for a familiar face, but did not see any, as he passed the bodies, he scavenged himself a smal pair of daggers which he slipped into his boots, and an expensive looking broach, which he pocketed.

When he reached the town, he saw Dwalvyn the dwarf and Cyllamdir the elf outside, and so, he relunctantly lowered his bow. He told them that he had been unconcious for quite some time and asked them what was going, and if either had seen his bow. When he discovered that they were preparing to leave, decided he had to make some preparations of his own. He told the pair that he was very hungry and needed something to eat, and then he would gather some provisions.

Then he left the pair and headed towards the building whose roof he had fought upon, which he now discovered was in fact a brothel. Not desiring to scale the walls again now that the doors were open, he barged through the door, ignoring the attractive woman who greeted him at the door and shoved anyone and everyone out of the way who happened to be in his path, then attempted correct his behaviour by telling them that he had a bad case of Syphillis, he clambered up the stairs, pretended to be clutching his crotch in pain. He walked past several rooms full of engaged occupants, until he reached the roof. He noticed two human corpses and the bloated corpse of a huge spider, and scrambled about the bodies, searching for his sword. He could not find it anywhere, casting his gaze onto the ground below him, he saw a glint of silver - his sword. Not wasting any time, Sulvan, leaped off, his arms outstretched...

His landing was far from perfect, but he had avoided serious injury. Part of him wondered why he did not just get himself another sword, but he remembered the extra qualities it possessed and that it had saved his life once when he had unknowingly stumbled upon a Barrow-wight in his early career as a grave robber, and so returned the sword back to its sheath.

Then, deciding he needed to replenish his stores but did not have coin, he found his agent, Tom, skulking around and told him to steal enough supplies, food, and other such items from various places and to return within the hour. Sulvan knew that it would be suspicious if he just stood around in some dark alleyway for around an hour, so decided to make some observations of his companions. Sneeking past the window, he caught a glimpse of most of the companions sitting in the bat and making their way towards the exit. He was sure that men who looked like they were from Dale, the Lake-town were there, so decided to stay and watch. Believing that he had not discovered anything of import, he returned to wait for Ferny's return, and found to his deligh that he had returned, and was busy munching on a stolen chicken.

"Put that away, fool!" he hissed, "and give me the goods," Minutes later, Sulvan was striding back through town were he found the elf and dwarf still waiting and muffled a joke about the companions being to drunk to hurry up....

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"I am the Flying Spagetti Monster. Thou shall have no other monsters before me"
-FSM.