Gale Riverroot's Story

Long has been the day since the return of the One Ring and the fall of Isildur. Since the Last Alliance of Men and Elves. Since the march onto Barad-dûr. Indeed, since the fall of Sauron. For long, we have feared the Rings return to the world of Men. But alas, such fears have come to pass. The Eye of Sauron stirs once more, calling out for the Ring and dispatching his Nine Riders to seek it.

The winds carry a darkness which blows from the East. A shadow crawls over Middle Earth, like a plague consuming the healthy flesh. The Gates of Mordor are opening. Barad-dûr howls with the war cry of orcs. And Rivendell? That, dear fellows, is where our story begins. Just beyond the safe and serene glitter of the Elven homes, in a clearing of the great trees of the Trollshaws, various heroes, men and women of all races and beings, gather their strength and resolve.

It is the day before the departing of the Fellowship from Rivendell, and the sun is beginning to wane. Durhnoram, the Great Eagle, stands perched atop a rocky tor. His sharp beak grooms through his feathers as he looks smugly upon all of you. His talons clutched around an ornate bag, Lothlórien emblems embroidering it's dainty silk.

"Gandalf sends his greetings, my friends, and begrudgingly the Elven Lord send their blessings."

He holds the small pouch out in front of him, indicating the consent of the Rings of Power. His head tilts to the side, scanning over you all. You feel the cold sensation of being judged, before finally his head lowers with a friendly grin. A flick of the foot, and the bag plopped to the ground with a small jingle.

"We are to make way a day ahead of the others. Rally your valor, my friends, for this may be the only peace we'll know for quite some time."

---

Cold was the wind which wisped through the leaves. Colder still were the shadows in which Valinor stood. He bathed in their enveloping darkness, concealing his form from sight. Unwilling to be within the grace of the sun, amidst these mortals, these strangers from across Middle Earth. Elves, Dwarves, Men of all races and creeds. They were all gathered here. And that damned bird. Durhnoram, the supposed "Great Eagle" merely lay perched at his spot, sheening with pride. Of course, leave it to the avian to claim a higher standing than the rest, and of course there was his placing of the Rings. He merely lay them there before the group and watched, waiting to see who would step forth to claim them.

Great Eagles my arse. This is not but a test, seeking to see whom among us will show greed and claim those accursed trinkets for themselves. They may revere themselves so highly, but in truth they are no better than those damnable elves.....

But still, the rings stayed where they were laid. Likely within that silken bag, they were adorned in white gold and beautiful gems. So many pretties to hide the ugliness of their foul corruption. Valinor's eye, gazing upon that which no mortal could see, perceived them for as they truly were. Within the cloth, dark vapors and ink-like blackness emanated from the three tiny bobbles. So dark, so tainting, but....... they were...... beautiful. Truly, they glowed with a sense of pride and a beckoning luster. They seamed as begging to be worn, to be owned. To be owned...... by Valinor. So tempting was their call, but Valinor's gaze rose up, and saw The Eye of the East. A deep, all-consuming black shrouded the lands of the Shadow, and in it's sky, as close as if Valinor stood at the Black Gates, glared The Eye. Wreathed in the flames of wrath, it's black pupil gazed directly at him, filling him with a dread unknown and intolerable even for one of the dead.

No!

Freeing himself of the temptation of these lesser Rings of Power, Valinor feared what would come over him should he ever behold the One Ring. Still, for now his will was his own, but he'd be damned again before he ever carried those foul bits of jewelry. His freezing stare washed over those that remain, judging for himself which he believed would be trusted with the cursed rings. Of course, there were the elves, of which Valinor cursed under his breath. Of course they could never leave their precious rings in the hands of Men, they had to send their envoys to play nanny and make sure all was by their standards. Both were females, with one being rather stereotypical. The other, however, was different. She held a glow about her, and her soul radiated a timeless aura. It shined with hope, light, power, and memories. The grass, leaves, and trees around her reflected this soul-light, suckling from her essence and bathing in her mere presence as if she were the mother of the forests. She was fascinating, and bore an age greater than even Valinor could guess. Of all these beings which have been gathered, she may be the only one as old or older than himself.

Among the others, a hobbit was unexpected. Valinor was ill-sure what possible use a Shire-folk would be to warriors and soldiers. He may slow them down, or even merely be a hindrance. The dwarf, however, was worth his salt. He carried the air of a warrior, a fighter for his people. Valinor could see this on his spirit. He had fought beside dwarves in his mortal life, and saw them as proud and stout warriors, equal to three of any men. This one would be worthy of his respect, provided he live up to his kinds reputation. His eyes met that of the Gondorian next, seeing the breastplate peeking out from beneath his cloak. How odd that the White Tree of Gondor would dance beside the Leaves of Lothlórien. Still, a bit of Valinor already loathed this man. His envious nature seething at the thought of someone who made no such mistakes as he. Though there was an interesting tinge to this man's pride, as though he'd experienced a grave dishonor. Valinor's knowledge of Gondor of late was little to none, he no longer bore love for the White City. Should there be reason, Valinor would not hesitate to slay or abandon this one.

His scanning of the herd was interrupted, when the mortals began to talk amongst themselves.......

"What're we supposed ta do, sit an' stare ata bunch o' Elvish rings all day?" Gunvald unabashedly asked and continues," If yeh ask me, there's no need fer that, it isn't like the things'll sprout legs and run off. Which means, what? We're ta smash em, or somethin?" His voice was thick with a Dwarven accent as he spoke, albeit a strange accent for Dwarves these days since his kin spoke an older dialect than most dwarves.

He eyed the rings, there was no denying the sublime wonder of their craftsmanship. They were jeweled,not too much nor too little and had a simple elegance that naturally drew the eye. Furthermore there was something more, magical about them that drew the eye and complimented the basic form and decoration. The combination was truly an unrivaled piece of art, but beyond showing off the work he couldn't figure out what the significance was.

"Not too sure abou' the rest of yer, but I was promised a good adventure and many fun fights. So if we could take care of the pretty trinkets and get the fun part, that'd be great." There was no effort to conceal his boredom of the current meeting, after all he was dwarf. If there was one thing a dwarf was good for was speaking his mind and beliefs in absolute, unfiltered clarity. His eyes gradually worked their way over everyone else as he talked.

A bunch of Men, they'd better be able to hold their weight; judging from their beards and belt buckles he didn't have high hopes. He figured the giant bird could carry the short thing, if memory served, Gandalf called it a Harbet. Or something like that, he sucked at names and needed to be corrected somewhere around five times before he got it right unless a good fight was involved. As for the pointy-eared sticks that Elves called women, he thought they were women...hard to tell with Elves. He figured that he'd be stuck watching them...their kind really wasn't much good for anything besides shooting arrows.

Liliana Greenleaf

Lilana was a ways off from the campsite resting against a tall oak tree. The great white wolf Oranthi lay beside her his head resting on his paws as he slumbered. She stroked his fur absent mindly. At this point in time the daughter of Elrond seemed to be deep in thought.

She wore light royal elven armor, maroon and gold in color, and it held green stones inside the armor that held a magic aura to them. The armor was more revealing then most elven clothes. The armor included: a maroon cloak with a leotard-like sleeve-less shirt with golden brown trim and designs going along her stomach, long elbow length gauntlets, of the same maroon of her cloak. On her cloak, she has a circular green jewel set in a gold plate that attaches the whole thing together. Her very long blonde hair was put up in a high ponytail, her bangs though as long as the rest of her hair was out of the ponytail and they traced down her sides.

Her glowing green eyes watched as the sun lingered across the broad horizon as if reluctant to allow the darkness of night to fall upon this land. Her full red lips set into a small smile as she looked upon the great eagle. He was truly a beautiful and graceful being blessed with with fortune, valor, and dressed in strength and knowledge. She like all elves held great respect and appreciation for nature and animals. She nodded in greetings at the Eagle and then she turned her gaze to the young beings watching them for some time with almost childlike curiosity. She seemed almost intrigued by them all. She was of corse the daughter of the great elf King Elrond and as such she was not allowed out of the royal guards sight and she was not allowed out of the great Elfish kingdom with the exception of delivering messages but even then seeing another being was rare. So indeed this was the first time in over 100 long years that she had seen anyone else but that of elf kind. She listened to the others speak not offering any words in return as She looked at the ring admiring it's craft and jewels it was indeed something of rare beauty but as she gazed upon it a feeling that 'this is wrong' washed over her in waves and she quickly shivered and recoiled turning her gaze away. For a split second she found herself remembering Arenth. She wondered in that second how he could have fallen when the rings held such evil to them. Did he truly not know..had he truly become so weak. She shake her head slightly as if to erase such a burdening thought.

She suddenly stood up at this point. Having already been at the campsite when the others arrived and never speaking to anyone she supposed it was time to walk around and get the feel for the area they were in as well as a feel for the people if someone wished of corse to speak to her. Oranthi looked at the young princess with a determined gaze and skeptical gaze to which she only giggled at as she walked away.

Her strides were long and full of grace making her walk seem more like a dance then anything as she began to explore the area. Her slender bow of Mirkwood and her arrows of Greenleaf on her back and at her belt a long white knife and the sheathed revered Sword Of Amaria rested on her hip.

Haarith:

Haarith looked out over the group. He thoughts were circling around the rings before him. What were they used for, why were they made, and so on. Then he looked at the group. The eagle was a mighty beast, undoubtfully it could crush most of them with ease, but then again, he had never seen one fight. The elves looked mysterious, as always. He thought they were a scary threat, always looming in the shadows. However as allies they were amazing and great to have with you.

He then looked and measured the gondorian soldier, standing in his armor. He knew what Gondor had to offer in war, because of the many battles he had been in against it. The only thing he saw was another gondorian armored infantry, just as he had seen so many times before. However he were also smart enough not to underrestimate anyone just by their looks. Another person he looked at with interest was the dwarf. He was quite straight forward with what he said and didn't seem to hold anything secret.

The two most interesting persons after his opinion was the giant of a man that stood there. He was so huge, that he probably could throw three orcs around with ease. If it came to a battle between the group, he personally knew that it was this giant, that he would avoid as much as possible. The other person was even smaller than the dwarf. He had realized that it wasn't a child, so he was in doubt whatever it was. He had never seen, nor heard of anything like him before. Then he looked to the skies, feeling grateful for not having to fight any of these persons.

Gale:

Gale was looking around at all of the amazing things around him. The buildings were the most massive structures he had ever seen and he had thought the Shire was a large community structure wise. It was all amazing. The artwork was truly stunning as the texture of the stone wove into vines or, as he passed a few, what looked like stories on the walls. He felt as if this was these buildings were the largest in Middle Earth.

Taking out his pipe, Gale looked through his bag to find some Old Toby. He stuffed some in his weed into his pipe, lit it, and began to smoke in small huffs as he people watched. He used to go to Bree every so often with some friends to sit in a bar just to see interesting people. Also to drink to their heart's intent but that was expected. Among them were men, which he saw plenty of in Bree. There were elves which were incredibly foreign to him though they were occasionally spoken of in the Shire. There was a dwarf, which were spoken of in Bilbo's stories so he had some insight on the race. There was an eagle by them, something that Bilbo also spoke of in stories though never in depth. He wondered if they could speak? There was a giant of a man too. A kind of man that could step on a hobbit without even noticing it. The travel alone would be by far more interesting than he had originally though it would be.

He looked up into the clouds to begin smoking rings. He was not nearly as good as that traveling wizard Gandalf for he could make ships and people. Unfortunately Gale could only do rings within one another and make a dragon face. Though he could also make a barrage of rings about forty in one breath. He could, however, copy the effects of water on objects. He would save so tricks for later so now he would settle with puffing out a few larger rings. Perhaps this journey would provide some new inspiration for new tricks.

Verza

Verza stood at his full height tall and trying to be proud. All these possibly mindless fools rabbling about seing finally who would be in their company for this great voyage. Verza sized them up. A Dwarf who looked like a indless brute clad in steel and topped off with a hefty looking war hammer that doubled as an axe, impressive, but not his kind of people. There was earlier a beautiful elven princesess, she had glimmered to him as the kind of elf he imagined, intwined with nature and more noticibly her slender build and sharp features. There were three other men who looked all normal to him, warriors that he expected to see, some looked like they relied on brute force, others on speed, he could tell fighting style just from how these people stood. To him one of the most fasinating was a Beorning, Verza thought they were just legend, but he was proven wrong, they were known as skin changers and could morph into feirce animals. But Verza was attracted to the last the most. A hobbit. Verza liked hobbits, he had been raised with them, he was from Bree, a land where Hobbits and Men lived together, usually in harmony. Verza paced over to the Hobbit and stood beside him, but he knew some hobbits were solitary and many would also greet you first, Hobbits were usually very happy friendly people. Verza scrapped the idea though.

"Why do we linger? Let us make a plan." Verza said raising his voice a little. "One of us men not dare be the ring bearer, it would cut through our will like a hot knife through butter. We need a ring bearer, or three as it seemes to be presented to us. One could barely withstand the power of one ring, let us not place the burden of three upon them." Verza said in his loud voice that he had trained over years of speaking to his court. Verza's eyes were drawn to the rings as he finished. They called to him. He could feel them. Verza with great will tore his eyes from them. He longed to look at them again but he refused and knew hwat he had said was true.

"What we're jus' carrying the damn things," Gunvald asked in bewilderment. "The eagle handled the three of 'em pairfectly fine an' now yeh wanna have three people carry the things. If yer so scared, let the bird keep em. Or we can let the Elves carry their own rings. I'm only touching 'em as a last resort, after all no Dwarf would ever want to wear Elf jewelry." Gandalf had tried to explain the situation to him before his departure, but Gunvald had found it too boring. He was the type who learned with his body, so he figured one of the promised fights on this adventure would explain the situation for him. Looking at them, yes the rings were pretty,mysterious and powerful seeming. But the fact remained that they were only of Elven make, now if a Dwarf had made those rings- then they'd be worth the fuss.

As he finished his internal dialogue, he drew his weapon and used it as a post to lean on. Of course he kept the weapon end up, what nut would let a blade drag through the dirt. His armor had squealed through the entire movement...guess he may need to oil it sometime in the future. His harsh words aside, he noticed Man had a point...their kind had always liked wealth and power according to old stories. This was his first time seeing such lustful eyes in person, guess once more the tales of his ancestors held much truth.

"The names Gunvald Fahrent, o' the Blue Mountains. What be yer name, I might be bad at them but so far I yeh ta be worth the question." He looked dead at the human who'd spoken of ring bearers first as he spoke. Some part of him couldn't help but think that this one might have some dwarf sense in him after all. "Fer that matter we all may as well exchange names."

Verza listened to Gunvald. He sounded rash and somewhat irritated. But he was sincere in his greeting. "I'm Verza of Bree. Or Verza as I prefer." He told Gunvald. He gave a slight bow. "At your service." He told them all really but primaraly toward Gunvald. He looked around again. All he saw was The hobbit. He thought he may be a good ring bearer, Hobbits were usually strong of will. Possibly the elven maidens. Maybe even the eagle. The Beoring looked like a fit beaer to. But he knew him and all the other men and Gunvald himself would be too easily corrupted by the rings, and riches in general, but worst of all the power they promised. Verza was drifting a little closer to the rings but he stopped himself and redirected to hide his error, which he did pretty well.

Liliana Greenleaf

Lilana appeared out from the brush a ways away having heard there whole words of needing introduction and figuring she should exchange pleasantries and be polite. She was representing her father afterall. She made her way closer to them all and gave a sweet smile "I am Liliana Greenleaf, Daughter of Elrond. And he-" She gestured towards the white wolf. "Is The Great Wolf Orinthi" She told them polietly. Her voice was soft and sweet filled to the brim with care and her glowing green eyes held knowledge way past her years. She gave a slight bow in respect to them. The white wolf bowed with her. It was apparent that neither of them held disdain or ill will to any of the other beings including the dwarfs. Which was the case. She respected the young ones. She then walked off again going back to exploring and ignoring everything for awhile. Truthfully she didn't want to even be near the rings. They truly made her skin crawl.

Branur's eyes traveled as he investigated each member of the company. A loud mouthed Dwarf, a small hobbit, another man who seemed to be of noble decent and carried the accent of Bree-Land. Two Elf lasses, Elves... He had spent a lot of time with their kind since his exile. His eyes immediately recognized one as the Princess of Mirkwood, a Giant of a Man, a Rohirrm, useful, and then... Then a Haradrim. A growl broke through his chest and he spoke suddenly, his voice booming in the manner of a Commander giving a speech. His eyes trained directly on the Golden Armored man.

"Why is such filth of the enemy among us! Why is a Servant of the Eye wandering Rivendell and apart of this, most crucial of councils?" Branur threw his hood back and wandered toward the Man of the East, his eyes gleaming with distrust and obvious hatred. The cloak he bore was obviously that of Elvish make and upon closer look of made by the crafters of Lorien as was his bow.

"Why wasn't he killed at the Gates and his body tossed into the deepest canyon in this valley? We should not let worshipers and heathens of the Lidless Eye walk among us!" Branur turned in a circle, obviously searching for an answer before resuming his speech. "This... This is a foul servant of darkness who hunts my brothers-in-arms, like dogs in the ruins and flames of the West. He is a traitor and defiler to the name of Men!" The former Captain clenched his fists before taking a step back. His speech finished, but then he turned and noticed the rings, a hallowing surge ran through him and lost all attention on the Haradrim.

"The three Elvish rings..." Came a whisper from his lips as he continued forward, stopping close to examine and prize the tiny circlets of precious metal. His ears overhearing Verza. "My dear fellow, you are so dearly wrong. I am Branur, and I believe I should bare a ring! I have seen all sorts of sorcery of the Great Foe to the East, I have faced every one of his minions, from Orcs of the Ashen Pits, to the Foul Men of the East. I have even survived an encounter with a Nazgul, it is my right, my right! To carry one of these Rings. And who dares challenge my right?" Branur again questioned the entire company, looking from member to member. "I quote again, who dare?" He uttered in a lower voice. His eyes burning in determination like coals in a Dwarven Hearth.

Slanu:

There was a certain tension floating through the air; it seemed tangible enough to swim through, or so thought Slanu. He had stood quietly near the back of the group, as had become his habit in most social situations in the latest of years. He had taken observations of everyone that was there, as he assumed most of the others had done... After all, this was not a group that should be trusted. However, he was going to try and give everyone the benefit of the doubt.

The first to catch his attention were the elves. What beauty! It had been just recently that he had first come into contact with an elf at all, a traveler from Rivendell itself, and he had fallen in love with the culture of the people ever since. They did not value how tall a man stood or how big his muscles were; no, they were far more complex. He hoped to befriend the elves, then, and learn more of their culture. There were also several men from Gondor; as was expected, they were a good deal taller than him. He would try to stay away from them if at all possible, as they would simply lower his self esteem. The dwarf was quite a charming little fellow! The dwarf was already blossoming a growing respect in Slanu's heart; he had never before met a dwarf, but he hoped that the majority of them were of this nature! Observing the rest of the group, he noticed one man (but was he really a man? He could not be so sure) that was much larger than the rest... Great, another man taller than I. The eagle was one of the first noticed, of course. But then... A hobbit! How delightful! Slanu tried not to show his joy at this discovery outwardly, for he wanted to keep up the facade of an unsociable hermit that he had so long labored to maintain. He was not one to speak much anymore, though in his own thoughts he longed for the comforts of companionship. But he had done a great wrong and should not be allowed to converse regularly with people; that was the sentence that he had granted upon himself for murdering his own brother.

When the rings were brought forth, Slanu had to resist the urge to jump forward immediately and take one for himself. The sheer lust that usually dwelt deep within him could not be muffled over the rings' call for a master. Oh, how powerful those rings could make him! His lack of strength would no longer matter. But, alas, he knew that this was not the point of the journey they were going to take. Still, it was tempting... He placed his hands on the nose of his noble steed, Afon, and massaged his face gently to try and ease his troubled thoughts of the rings and their power. He was about to make a suggestion towards the bearer of the rings' identities when a man, who called himself Branur, began to speak, first violently and then with a great air of cockiness. Slanu had a feeling that he would not get along very kindly with this man; he was of great stature, and he knew it, too. After the man had concluded speaking, Slanu took the opportunity to step forwards.

"Although it is not in my right to speak thusly, may I suggest a rotation of sorts? As this man has said, the ring is a heavy burden for any one being," as he said this, he made a gesture towards Verza, "But shared between many, perhaps that burden could be lightened. I am not well-versed in ring lore, but I agree that the men should probably not partake..." He was trying to stand to match the other mens' height, but to no avail whatsoever. Compared to the others, he looked like an adolescent boy, and he was quite aware of it. Still, he held his self with an air of fabricated nobility to try and make up for his lack of stature.

Gale:

Gale was switching his gaze back and forth between those who argued over the trinkets. He wondered what everybody was talking about. They acted as if the jewelry was of the greatest importance though it didn't look as if they were anything more than some shiny metals. He walked over the three rings to stare at them more intensely. There were two made of gold but one was special among them. The one that caught his eye was made of what looked like a shiny silver where in it's center had a diamond and it glowed.

The hobbit nudged it a bit with his finger but nothing happened. Then he picked it up to examine it more closely. "I don't know what you guys are arguing about. These things are neat, I mean this one would be nice to look at while smoking a pipe but it isn't anything especially desirable. Now if it was a ring of cheese or a plate of fish and chips then I would be all over it." He said with a grin on his face. Still smoking his pipe he placed it back where he picked it up and then walked over to the men arguing over the trinkets. "My name is Gale by the way. I don't know who this foe of the east is but I'm don't think that he should turn the mood of this gathering sour. Should he?" He asked aloud to no one in particular.

"Nice ta meet yeh...," Gunvald began addressing the elf maid who'd just spoken but found he couldn't remember the name. He scrunched his face, clearly struggling to remember a name, "Iliyara, was it? I don't suppose yeh can talk some sense inta Brandon and 'his right' about his kind holding on ta one o' the rings? After all, Victor's got a point in terms o' people carrying these things...it's too dangerous fer Men." As he spoke, he had the distinct impression that not a single name he said had been correct. In truth he had every intention to just let everyone else sort this kind of nonsense out, kept things easier.

When the hobbit stepped forth he abruptly paused, carefully watching what the fellow did. He was stuck staring like an idiot for a bit with the ease the ring was handled and put aside. Furthermore he couldn't tell if the blatant lack of knowledge, even bigger than his, was a joke or a truly serious question. But he felt a deep, belly shaking laugh erupt from his lips as Gale stepped away from the rings.

"Bwahahahah!! I don' know about the rest o' yeh but methinks I like this Harbet," Gunvald openly declared, once more getting a name wrong. After a bit more heavy laughter, he straightened himself up again and resumed speaking. "Gale here is after a dwarf's heart, forget a silly trinket an' address somethin practical: food. I'm pitchen a vote sayin' this un' should carry one o' the rings." Without realizing it, Gunvald finally got a name correct on the first attempt.

Haarith:

Haarith was just standing still as the Gondorian spoke and shouted at him. After all, what could he say ?
All those things were true, or atleast somewhat. His kinsmen the Haradrims were servants of the dark lord, where he himself had left Harad when he knew what was underways. However as soon as the gondorian looked at the rings, he was completely changed.

However Haarith were looking at the rings, feeling attracted to them, with their promises of power and glory and most of all the glory Haarith could recieve if he brought these rings back to Harad. Then he remembered. It was exactly things like these he was trying to get rid of in the world so Harad would no longer be under control of Sauron, or atleast so Harad would have strenght enough to withstand him.

As the gondorian started shouting about himself as a ringcarrier Haarith looked at him.
"Listen to yourself gondorian. You speak as if you had control over the rings as the Dark Lord himself. You do not control the rings, if you were to carry one they would simply control you instead. So if you look for one to challenge your authority then you have found one. I do not wish to carry a ring myself, neither do I wish for man so close to the darkness as a man who've fought Nazguls. Sure it proves you have a strong arm, but does a strong will follow with it ? I highly doubt it. You could barely control yourself as soon as you saw me. On the other hand i do believe the horseman's idea was a good one. Everyone should on turn carry a ring, to make sure as no one would be too tainted to betray the rest. If that is however a bad idea, in the ears of you others then we should find a carrier." Then he looked at the hobbit who was standing with one, as it was a simple ring. He couldn't help but feel respect for the little being, because of the will the creature had to posses not to be tempted by the ring. "And personally, I believe we just found a carrier."

Nienna Elensar

Nienna stood gracefully amongst the group of mismatched beings. She folded her arms at waist level looking much like the beautiful Elvish statues of the olden days. A gentle smile was ever present on her soft face. She silently evaluated the others around her. It was all slightly unusual for her, she had not left Mirkwood forest for several years now. This indeed was nostalgic seeming Rivendell after a long absence.

The Elvan lady, Nienna recognized as the daughter of Elrond. The princess was considerably younger when Nienna last saw her. She had grown to be quite beautiful. Nienna was sometimes looked upon as an outsider to the other elves. She was an appointed protector of the wood, a prophetess of Middle Earth whom carried the blessing of the Maiar, caster of true magic. Some elves knew her well while others speculate on her origins.

The humans were a varied bunch to Nienna. She could see the pull the three rings had on them. They could hardly look at the rings without wrestling with their will power. Yet hope remained in their race and such hope was evident amongst some here. This made Nienna look more at peace. She found Verza of Bree and Slanu Woolgar most fascinating. The wind blowing across their hearts became warm when it was otherwise cool. They were of the caliber of heart as the ranger Aragorn, hearts created to change fate. Nienna gazed at both men with intrigue and smiled gracefully at them.

Nienna looked at the Dwarf lord who she flashed a tiny look of disdain toward him. He was brash and seemingly self-centered. He seemed to care only for adventure and not for the fate of the rings, the fate of The Fellowship or the fate of Middle Earth for that matter. It was as if he had no clue of the reason they were meeting outside the fact that they were journeying. He was beginning to prove her perception of Dwarves correctly, a simple minded and crude race plagued by foresight as short as there common stature. Nienna carried quite a prejudice towards dwarves. She has by far never had a single positive interaction with one.

Nienna quickly diverted her attention to the Hobbit. The sight of him sparked joy in her heart and memory. The hobbit reminded her much of Bilbo Baggins, whom Nienna had met years ago in Mirkwoord, along with Thorin Oakenshield and his band of dwarves. They ventured into Mirkwood during their quest to regain the Lonely Mountain or Erebor from the dragon Smaug. There, the Dwarf Bombur, after seeing Nienna “The Witch of the Black Forest” and fearing being cursed, fell into the Enchanted river. Bilbo had made such an impression on Nienna that the very thought of him brought her to giggling laughter. She wondered if this Hobbit knew sir Baggins. She knelt down to the level of the Hobbit master, her hair and gown seemed to drift slowly and gracefully down behind her.

Before she could ask the hobbit if he was acquainted Bilbo, Verza spoke to the group. "Why do we linger? Let us make a plan." Verza said raising his voice a little. "One of us men not dare be the ring bearer, it would cut through our will like a hot knife through butter. We need a ring bearer, or three as it seemes to be presented to us. One could barely withstand the power of one ring, let us not place the burden of three upon them." Verza said in his loud voice. Nienna was surprised to see a human admit the weakness in the flesh of his kinsmen. Her inkling about this human was correct. The great moon watched this human with interest and Middle Earth’s core stir with wonder at fate’s workings.

The dwarf then addressed the group in his seemingly usual crude manner. "What we're jus' carrying the damn things," Gunvald asked in bewilderment. "The eagle handled the three of 'em pairfectly fine an' now yeh wanna have three people carry the things. If yer so scared, let the bird keep em. Or we can let the Elves carry their own rings. I'm only touching 'em as a last resort, after all no Dwarf would ever want to wear Elf jewelry." Nienna stood to her feet once more staring stoically at the dwarf.

Nienna whispered silently, “Only if the last option be left to me would I carry such wicked beauty. However a ring of power in the hands of a dwarf would spell disaster of an entirely different sort…” Nienna then snickered to herself at the thought.

The Elvan Lady made her way closer to them all and gave a sweet smile "I am Liliana Greenleaf, Daughter of Elrond. And he-" She gestured towards the white wolf. "Is The Great Wolf Orinthi" She told them polietly.

Nienna bowed slightly and replied, “It is indeed a blessed occasion to have met you again Lady Greenleaf. I am afraid that you might remember me not. I am Nienna Elensar. Many know me as the Lady of Greenwood or more commonly now I am known as the Witch of the Black Forest.”

Branur spoke angrily as his voice resounded in the air. "Why is such filth of the enemy among us! Why is a Servant of the Eye wandering Rivendell and apart of this, most crucial of councils?" Branur threw his hood back and wandered toward the Man of the East, his eyes gleaming with distrust and obvious hatred. Nienna cared little to involve herself with the struggles of men and their kinsmen’s feuds. These feuds often lead to battles that would commonly harm the earth. The man then continued, "Why wasn't he killed at the Gates and his body tossed into the deepest canyon in this valley? We should not let worshipers and heathens of the Lidless Eye walk among us!" Branur turned in a circle, obviously searching for an answer before resuming his speech. "This... This is a foul servant of darkness who hunts my brothers-in-arms, like dogs in the ruins and flames of the West. He is a traitor and defiler to the name of Men!" The former Captain clenched his fists before taking a step back. His speech finished, but then he turned and noticed the rings, a hallowing surge ran through him and lost all attention on the Haradrim.

"The three Elvish rings..." Came a whisper from his lips as he continued forward, stopping close to examine and prize the tiny circlets of precious metal. His ears overhearing Verza. "My dear fellow, you are so dearly wrong. I am Branur, and I believe I should bare a ring! I have seen all sorts of sorcery of the Great Foe to the East, I have faced every one of his minions, from Orcs of the Ashen Pits, to the Foul Men of the East. I have even survived an encounter with a Nazgul, it is my right, my right! To carry one of these Rings. And who dares challenge my right?" Branur again questioned the entire company, looking from member to member. "I quote again, who dare?" He uttered in a lower voice.

Nienna looked upon Branur with a hawks gaze. He was drowned in the weakness of his flesh. The rings test was succumbing this man. Nienna looked back at the three wicked objects of beauty. It was almost painful to hear that they were considered Elvan items being of such wicked origin. They seemed to glow of a darkness most others could not see. Nienna’s bundle of enchanted leaves began to glow of a autumn color red. Nienna said quietly hoping Branur would heed her warning. “Only a fool rushes into judgment. In all things must one anoint thane self with great wisdom.”

Slanu then stepped forward. He was hesitant yet a boldness slowly began to awaken withing the man of small stature. Nienna listened carefully to his heart speak. "Although it is not in my right to speak thusly, may I suggest a rotation of sorts? As this man has said, the ring is a heavy burden for any one being," as he said this, he made a gesture towards Verza, "But shared between many, perhaps that burden could be lightened. I am not well-versed in ring lore, but I agree that the men should probably not partake..."

Nienna smiled once more, there was indeed hope for men after all. This is why Gandalf placed such strong belief behind them. Verza stood beside Slanu who had stood up for what was just. "I believe our friend here is right. We men weak of will may not be able to withstand the temptation of power." Verza said. then he looked to Gunvald. "Nor do I think should any dwarf tempted by riches." He said. "The wise decision would be to leave them. Period. But that is not an option, there will always be a risk, but we must take the lesser one." Verza said. He looked the other man who looked like a rider. "And it is our right to speak thusly. We need to do what is right, the fait of middle earth may rest on our shoulders." Verza said the last line to everybody. He looked at the tall Gondorian man. "Please choose the right path. A short life of power and sadness, or a short few yeas of suffering, then the rest of your life full of happiness." Verza said

Nienna then stepped forward and addressed the group. “Thus has spoken the wisdom of the wisest kings. Deafen not your ears to such wisdom for listening serve you well. Tis wickedness that lay before you, be ye not mistaken. Tis a great burden for men to carry yet where a single heart divided amongst kinsmen is bound to fail, a heart shared amongst kinsmen will triumph.” Nienna smiled at Slanu and Verza endearingly. “Tis time we decide no?” Her voice flowed authoritatively yet still gently and nurturingly.

Verza watched as the hobbit stepped forward. He had known his name actually. But he couldn't quite remember much more that that. He remmbered when they were boys they would sometimes play together.But that was a long time ago. Verza laughed as he saw him walk up to the rings. and just pick it up and set it down as if it were just an average rock.

Then one of the elven lady's stepped forward. She was tunning. Verza was taken with her beauty and the beauty of most elven things to. The elves always intruiged him. “Thus has spoken the wisdom of the wisest kings. Deafen not your ears to such wisdom for listening serve you well. Tis wickedness that lay before you, be ye not mistaken. Tis a great burden for men to carry yet where a single heart divided amongst kinsmen is bound to fail, a heart shared amongst kinsmen will triumph.” Nienna smiled at Slanu and Verza endearingly. “Tis time we decide no?” Her voice flowed authoritatively yet still gently and nurturingly.

Verza smiled abck at her with a warmth. "I believe you to be right." Verza answered. Verza felt himself somewhat taking a leading position in this group. Being a voice of logic. But then again he never declared himself head. "I think this hobbit here, our friend Master Gale should carry a ring. All opposed speak now. We shall also discus rotations after. I think it to be wise to rotate between two people with one ring. But I will continue that further later." Verza said. He once again looked at The Elven lady Nienna. Verza bowed his head to her out of respect and service. "M'Lady." He said to her noticing her as more powerful than himself. It was a thing of respect and kindness. And Verza couldn't help be kind to such a beautiful face.

The Witch of the Black Forest? How quaint. I believe I may have heard that moniker once or twice before. Yes, spoken in the same hexing tone most peasants use to spit upon my name.

Valinor merely stay were he was and watched, eyeing each of them as they presented themselves, and chuckling as the buffoons fumbled with the rings like a child with a wooden toy. Half ignorant and half fearful, these were the ones to guard the cursed trinkets? They could barely stop bickering over who should hold the damned things, falling prey to the dark luster and promise of power. The Man of Gondor was clearly smitten by the rings' call, as he made his challenge to the others, in turn shaming that of Gondor in the process. Then there was this Verza fellow.....



It was now everything Valinor could do to contain his laughter. He wondered how anyone could be so naive, and how even the elves could not see the plot they had all been set in. The dwarf and hobbit? He'd expected their oblivious nature here, but from the fair folk he expected more foresight. Could no one see that they were merely disposable assets in the Grand Design of things? How could they be so blind?



That did it, and Valinor could contain his laughter no more. Loud, haunting, hair-raising cackles filled the air, echoing around the woods of the Trollshaws. It was a mocking sort of laughter, filled with contempt. His chortles must have lasted a good minute before finally he could bring himself back to senses.

"Oh, truly the naive nature of mortals at work.... Hah! A short few years indeed! But truly the endorsement of the elven maiden was entirely to much! Ignorance must surely be bliss. I care not for whom bears the burden of the rings, so long as I not touch them. I had feared their corruption would surely be my undoing, but here I see that a great representative of Gondor so easily swayed by but the mere sight of the damned things! Tell me, how does it feel to make a wondrous ass of yourself and your people?"

His voice, it's trademark echoed whisper, rang out from seemingly nowhere. All but the keenest of eyes could spot his dark figure among the long, trailing shadows of the forest.

"Oh my, it seams I must introduce myself. Valinor, Son of Caslion, Captain of the 9nth brigade Arnorian Alliance, Commander of the fortress of Minas Ithil.... Or rather 'Ex-Commander', although there are quite a few interesting nicknames I've earned over the Age."

"The Ghost of Gondor, if you prefer...." he spoke as his armor stepped from it's dark veil. Valinor made no attempts to hide what he was. Shadowy vapors and inky darkness drifted from underneath his helmet and from within his cape, leaving an ephemeral trail of lingering black smoke in his wake. His long, confident strides spoke for him at this point, as he simply let the living decide amongst themselves as to his presence. Valinor scarcely believed he'd be welcomed with open arms, but seeing these fearful fools react to his presence was now simply far too tempting to not exploit.

"Or perhaps 'Naerrandir, to you elves. Hmmm?"

Slanu had become taken with the Hobbit. He was quite a delight! Yes, he believed that the hobbit (Gale he had called himself, no?) would be a perfect fit to carry a ring. A heart so pleasant-minded as his could surely not find a dark intention for the power of the rings. And the Dwarf! What delight it was to hear him speak in such a tongue as his. Although he had seen his fair share of races in his travels, never had he had the delight to be around such diverse people! This delight shone in his eyes, which twinkled with the spark of curiosity and interest, but it was not revealed in the rest of his face nor the position he held himself in. 'Do not let them see you take comfort in their talking, it is not your place to enjoy.'

His eyes wandered on the Haarith as he spoke. This was a sight, for sure; a "servant of Sauron," or so the Gondorian wanted them to believe. But certainly the wise man that had approached Slanu would not have chosen someone who he thought would turn the rings into the Dark Lord to go on this particular journey; no, this man could be trusted to not betray them. Now whether or not he was trustworthy in other senses was anyone's guess, but so was the trustworthiness of everyone standing around them.

And then the elf woman finally spoke. Her voice was like a soft music that hung in the air for moments after she had ceased speaking. 'How lovely the elven race is,' he thought to himself. 'They will always be a wonder of the world.' Verza spoke again as well; this man was becoming the leader of the group, and Slanu found himself to be fine with that. This man actually reminded him very much of his brother. Slanu quickly brushed that thought aside and listened carefully to what Verza said. He agreed, and found what was discussed to be logical. The elven women began conversing with one another at that time; who knows what they could have been saying? Though Slanu's ears strained to hear, they could not catch the delicate voices that did not want his wandering nosiness.

A laugh, that of seemingly dark origin, broke his happier thoughts of elven culture. The specter stepped forward and explained himself and the ignorance that he believed himself to be surrounded by; Slanu was overcome by a sudden streak of memory. "The Ghost of Gondor... Yes, yes!" Slanu whispered to himself. He then spoke more loudly, with direction at the Ghost, "I have heard your name. In my homeland of Rohan, that name haunts the dreams of our children. They tell your story when warning children of the consequences of their actions. I was told the story, myself, when I was just the height of a young sapling." On the inside, Slanu was nearly leaping out of his skin; not necessarily out of fear, though the idea of the ghost did chill him to the bone, but more out of sheer wonder. The stories told of this Ghost were true! So, in that case, what other childhood fantasies were possible because of this? Could there really be a Castle in the Sky, as his mother had told him when he was but a toddler? Or were there really horses that sprouted wings after rain flew over the land, a rainbow being painted by their trailing manes? How exciting! His face remained a stone, but his body shifted as chills rippled over his skin. However, when Valinor got closer to them, Afon began to stamp the ground repeatedly and lift herself onto her hind legs. "Whoa, my friend, fear not, fear not!" He soothed his companion, stroking her mane to try and calm her. As he did so, he turned his attention back to the group.

"I agree with all that the man has said," he gestured again to Verza. "Is it not time to set aside our differences?" He said this pointedly towards the Gondorian and Haarith. He turned his gaze onto Gale, who he already had a great respect for. "My sir, if you do wish to take upon the task of carrying a ring, I would like to offer you not only the luck of the Rohirrim, but also my sword. After all," he spoke to the rest of the group aloud, "None of us were meant to do this alone, nor should we be expected to."

Gale:

The young hobbit had thought that he had simply stated his opinion. Though apparently he had done something much more eventful as it seemed to have gotten the others a bit more anxious. Was it because he touched the ring or was it because he thought it was just a trinket. Now they were deciding whether or not he would carry the thing! Carry it though but not wear it. Why though? He thought that it was perhaps a royal signet. Yes, that must be it. Must not where the ring of an Elven lord so not to anger them. He thought reassuring himself.

Gale took out some string from his pocket and walked over to the shiniest of rings. "I will take up to this task of carrying this ring. Thank you kindly Verza. As for your sword I must decline, though I would much rather have your company." He said with a smile to Slanu as he tied the the ring to the string and hanged it around his neck. It was odd. With that ring around his neck he felt a small bit of energy in his chest. He figured that it must have been the adrenaline from the situation. He looked at the rest of the party with a grin. "So! How about you guys get the other two and we can get on our way."

Nienna Elensar

Verza smiled back at her with a warmth. "I believe you to be right." Verza answered Nienna. Verza seemed to be quite the leader in this group, Nienna was quite comfortable with that.

"I think this hobbit here, our friend Master Gale should carry a ring. All opposed speak now. We shall also discus rotations after. I think it to be wise to rotate between two people with one ring. But I will continue that further later." Verza said. Nienna agreed that the Hobbit Gale was indeed the best candidate to bear the ring. A hobbit wasn’t a force to be reckoned with physically or magically, and they were pure people. Wickedness had to fight a long and tiresome battle to overcome such purity in a being. Hobbits carried a will strong in its simplicity, unlike humans who desire elevation Hobbits could care less about status.

Verza once again looked at lady Nienna. Verza bowed his head to her out of respect and service. "M'Lady." He said to Nienna.

Nienna bowed elegantly in response to Verza. “Sir Verza.” Nienna seemed to glow as the human addressed her. She had seen her share of humans in her time but few have stood out to her enough to make her blush. Nienna was so used to the solitude of the forest, she would see humans that seemed brash and rough around the edges. Most humans were afraid of her die to her reputation as a witch of dark power. She has had to bring curses down upon a few but even when the land deemed it fit to punish a being, Nienna showed at least a small measure of mercy. It was nice to have a human gentleman not cower in fear at her presence.

Liliana smiled at Nienna speaking in elfish again. "He seems to have taken a liking to you." She says looking at her with a playful gaze and smile. Verza, at the sight of Nienna and Liliana’s chatting, seemed to have smiled even more. Verza just smiled to them with his now rosy and warm cheeks.

Nienna smiled sheepishly, “To finally feel a speck of Lady Arwen’s liking for a human… it’s quite an interesting feeling. Like falling in love with a flower, yes they are impermanent, but they are beautiful and the value they bring to the land in priceless, so full of life and strength. I do love flowers… so I suppose I could admire a human as well.” Nienna giggled slightly. Nienna thought to herself ‘If it is that human… ‘


A vile laughter filled the air, of a mocking nature it was. Valinor cackled on. Nienna could feel his darkness of aura a soul filled disdain for the living. "Oh, truly the naive nature of mortals at work.... Hah! A short few years indeed! But truly the endorsement of the elven maiden was entirely to much! Ignorance must surely be bliss. I care not for whom bears the burden of the rings, so long as I not touch them. I had feared their corruption would surely be my undoing, but here I see that a great representative of Gondor so easily swayed by but the mere sight of the damned things! Tell me, how does it feel to make a wondrous ass of yourself and your people?"

Valinor’s voice, it's trademark echoed whisper, rang out from seemingly nowhere. All but the keenest of eyes could spot his dark figure among the long, trailing shadows of the forest. "Oh my, it seams I must introduce myself. Valinor, Son of Caslion, Captain of the 9nth brigade Arnorian Alliance, Commander of the fortress of Minas Ithil.... Or rather 'Ex-Commander', although there are quite a few interesting nicknames I've earned over the Age. The Ghost of Gondor, if you prefer.... Or perhaps 'Naerrandir, to you elves. Hmmm?"

Nienna replied calmly as she gazed upon Valinor stoically. “I know of who you are. A walking curse, the trees shudder when you are in their midst.”

"The ghost of Gondor...." Verza said trailing off. "You wish to make up your mistakes, don't you?" Verza asked his hand on his knife.

Slanu then responded to Valinor, "I have heard your name. In my homeland of Rohan, that name haunts the dreams of our children. They tell your story when warning children of the consequences of their actions. I was told the story, myself, when I was just the height of a young sapling." Nienna knew what it felt like to be feared, to have been referred to by peasants as a wrathful being who harms those who step into the forest. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

Slanu continued, "I agree with all that the man has said," he gestured again to Verza. "Is it not time to set aside our differences?" He said this pointedly towards the Gondorian and Haarith. He turned his gaze onto Gale, who he already had a great respect for. "My sir, if you do wish to take upon the task of carrying a ring, I would like to offer you not only the luck of the Rohirrim, but also my sword. After all," he spoke to the rest of the group aloud, "None of us were meant to do this alone, nor should we be expected to."

Gale, the Hobbit, took out some string from his pocket and walked over to the shiniest of rings. "I will take up to this task of carrying this ring. Thank you kindly Verza. As for your sword I must decline, though I would much rather have your company." He said with a smile to Verza as he tied the the ring to the string and hanged it around his neck.

Nienna felt relieved to see the ring in the safest of hands. She wondered who would the next two rings pass to. Nienna pondered if she herself should carry one of the rings. She knew that she could resist the power of the ring for a time, but that time would not be as long as that of a Hobbits resistance. Once corrupted Nienna could do great damage with the rings’ power. She was already blessed with a great task and power by the Maiar.

Nienna spoke to the group, “The ring is in good hands with you Sir Gale. As for the other two rings, I was appointed as a guardian not a ring bearer, I feel it may not be wise for one such as I to carry a wicked ring for too long. If the fellowship wills it, I shall take upon the burden for as long as grace permits me. However, only as a last resort.”