War of The Rings

by Stinky1

A fellowship of 9 set out to destroy the rings of the Nazgul. 1 dwarf, 1 wizard, 2 hobbits, 1 man, 1 wraith, and 3 elves.

Prologue

Internal inconsistencies are rampart in this tale. We have really no mind to follow the story of the Great War of the Ring and Frodo's quest, but it is loosely based on it. We take characters that are dead or gone, and bring them back as nothing has happened. For this, you must ignore. We mean no disrespect to the late, great, JRR Tolkien, but our story started as a game on a social board and grew- if I may say so, to epic proportions.

However, I cannot lay claims to the story that will be told. It was a collaborative effort, and I am part of it, as well as being the scribe. Thanks to:

Shadow13- Milo Baggins

FoBiA- Witchprince Angmar

Number1 GF- Gayhuniel Otaire

Subrosian2007- Vincent Arragorn

Stinky zz- Ombur Ironfoot

Trona Ken III- Gunthrial Greenleaf

masterff8- Robert Brandybuck

puff22- Ryllyn Otaire

This is just the first part so this is who I need to give props to. I will get everyone who joined in later, um, later.

And now on to the War of the Rings.

The Stinky One

PART 1

The Fellowship

One bright sunny morning in early September a hobbit set out on a quest. Not a simple quest; no there and back again. Nor a fun quest, with songs, food, and play, but an epic quest. You see, many years ago, a hobbit set out on his own quest. (One very much like our hero) He went to destroy an evil thing, and to better the world. He started this thing.

The hobbit setting out on a quest on this day was one, Milo Baggins. Milo was a simple hobbit. He stood about three feet and eleven inches, and was still considered a child by his peers. At age 17, he was like a human 10-year-old. Mischievous, and fun loving, he was (like most hobbits) partial to large meals everyday and smoking a pipe out-of-doors after. This was the essence of this hobbit.

It was September 12th in the Shire reckoning when Milo Baggins went out for a smoke and a walk. As Milo hummed a tune in the evening light, and smoked his pipe, his mind wandered to the past. He thought of Frodo and Bilbo, and Elrond, and the Great War. Milo, being a descendent of Frodo Baggins, had full access to the Red Book, or better known as The Downfall of the Lord of the Rings and the Return of the King. Something in it bothered him, though.

"What is the problem? Why is my mind uneasy?" Milo wondered. Only one could help him explain his feelings. The Great wizard, Gandalf. "Yes, Gandalf! He will help me!" Milo ran home to his hobbit hole. As he entered the hole, he saw a fire in the hearth. Knowing that he did not leave one when he left, he knew someone was in the hole. Milo opened the door, slowly.

"Milo, m'boy! Good to see you!"

A old man, dressed in grey was sitting in Milo's goose feather chair. HE had bushy white eyebrows, a long beard, and hard steely eyes. A long stemmed pipe was poking from his mouth, and a thin curl of smoke was trailing out of it.

"Gandalf! Why, I was just-"

"Thinking of me, hmm? Well, Milo, I was thinking of you, also. I have grave news, and you will be affected by it." Here, Gandalf took a long drag from his pipe. He blew colored smoke rings out of his mouth before he continued. "The nine are abroad!"

"The Nazgul? But weren't they destroyed when the Dark Lord fell?" Milo frantically searched for the passage in the Red Book that described it.

"Oh no. When Sauron was cast down, and Frodo destroyed the one ring, the nine were diminished in power. Free of their bonds to the Dark Lord, they fled to the far East. In the region of Rhun, they re-gathered and prepared to make a stand against those who destroyed their master. They started to grow in power, but a different kind of power. One born out of their own inner evil. These rings must be destroyed! As I chose Bilbo to accompany 13 dwarves many years ago, (which started this whole affair) I choose you to accompany me on this trip. I value your companionship and I feel that you will be an asset. What do you say?"

"Gandalf, you have guided Frodo and Bilbo through fire and back, and I would be honored to accompany you. When shall I start?" Milo stated to flush at the thought of adventure. He grabbed Sting off its place on the mantle, and put it on.

"Tomorrow, Milo. I must go now, but if you would meet me at The Prancing Pony in Bree on the eve of the 14th we can make plans. I feel you need not be worried though. No one will hinder you, but many may offer their help. If you trust them, then take them with you. If not, flee. Now, I must go!" Gandalf flew out of the door and onto his horse, Shadowfax. As he rode away, he yelled "Meet me at Bree!"

***

After a good nights sleep, and a large breakfast, he set out. Wearing a tattered old cloak and hood, and bearing the famed sword Sting, he left the Shire on the grey, rainy, morning. As he walked the byways of the peaceful land, he thought of many other journeys his kindred had taken. Frodo and the Ring, and Bilbo and the Dragon. He lit his pipe and started to sing as he walked.

"Gil-galad was an elven king.

Of him the harpers sadly sing,

the last whose realm was fair and free,

between the mountains and the sea!

His sword was long, his lance was keen,

his shining helm afar was seen,

the countless stars of heaven's field,

were mirrored in his silver shield!

But long ago he rode away,

and where he dwelleth, none can say

for into darkness fell his star-"

"In Mordor where the shadows are! Good Morrow, my friend!" A figure robed in black had approached Milo as he sung. On his heard was a simple circlet of silver, and he was gird with a ornate belt. Sheathed on the belt was a long curved sword, as to the fashion of the orcs. "And may I say, what is a hobbit like you doing out on a day like this?"

Milo was startled. "Well, sir. What I am doing is, and shall stay my business, however I will gladly treat you to my name. Milo S. Baggins at you service! Who do I have the pleasure of speaking too, and if I may ask, could we get out of this rain?"

"That sounds like a mighty good idea, indeed. Come. I have a camp not far from here. As for my name, it is, well, I go by Witchprince."

They went off the road, near a clump of trees. This was out of the way, in the highland of the Shire where no towns were. In the grove, Milo found that Witchprince had a nice tent, and a fire (despite the wet ground) going. Milo followed him to the fire and sat down. Witchprince set about, making tea for the hobbit. "Here, young one, feed on this while the tea brews." He handed Milo a small bit of cram.

"So, Witchprince. That is a strange name, indeed. How did you come by it?" Milo asked.

"That is a story for a bright sunny day, not a cold damp one, my friend." He went about, hustling around the tent, preparing the tea. As steam shot from the kettle, it blew back his hood. Instead of a face, there was a skull with fire blazing in his eye sockets.

"AHHHHHHH!!! You- No-," Milo screamed in terror. He shirk back, into the dark recesses of the tent, cowering in fear. Witchprince crept towards him, slowly, speaking quietly, almost to himself.

"Not dangerous, no. I don't want to hurt you. I am safe, my friend. Do not fear me." He crept towards Milo, and extended a hand. "Milo, hear me out. I wished not to tell you this on this night, but I fear I must. I am the son of the Nazgul leader. The King of Angmar, er, more accurately, the Witchking of Angmar. Does this explain my name? Yes. It does not explain my appearance. I am a wraith also, due to the fact that I also carried my father's ring for a short time. Long enough to make me a wraith,. but not long enough to make me a Nazgul. I am not, and never will be, a servant of the One ring. Do not fear me, for I know where you go. I know of Gandalf and his plans to destroy my father. I am willing to help you in anyway possible. "

Milo, now under control retorted, "You are a Nazgul! I go to destroy rings, not to deliver them into the hands of the one I wish to destroy!?!" He laid his hands on Sting.

"Foolish Halfling! Did you not hear anything I just said?! I am not in league with my father! He is the opposite of what I want to be! Do not judge me by my birthfather but by my own intentions!" As he said this, Witchprince seemed to grow in stature and the fire in his eyes burned brighter. "And, furthermore, do not raise your weapon at me! I will be offended!"

Milo shrank back, feeling low now. He felt there was some good inside Witchprince, albeit hard to find. He remembered Gandalf's words, "No one will hinder you, but many may offer their help. If you trust them, then take them with you. If not, flee." Milo felt that Gandalf knew that this would happen. It was solely up to him.

"If I take you with me, will you swear to not covet what we find, and to protect me and any others that may join us on our quest. If you swear to this, I will allow you to accompany me and Gandalf." Milo said ths with authority, as if no one, even a Prince of Nazgul, would countermand it.

"I swear, Milo Baggins of the Shire!"

****

The next day, the sky cleared up, and the sun was shining. It was beautiful walking weather. Milo and Witchprince walked together, smoking and talking. Milo learned more of the history and lore of the ring, and in exchange, Witchprince learned of Hobbits and their ways. The world was bright and nice. No one would suspect that these two travelers were possibly going to their deaths.

As they past out of the Shire and into the Wildlands, many subtle differences. Less trees, more animals. Soon they were at the eves of the Old Forest. "I have heard many tales of this forest, but none to turn us away." Milo said with vigor, although inside he was quivering with fear.

"Fear not, young halfling, I am armed, and I will protect you until I myself perish!" Witchprince showed Milo his sword. Curved, with ancient markings that looked like Morgul writing. "This is the sword Alash Zirzak," he brandished it with a precise air. "None will stay alive after pierced by it. I will not let you come to harm!"

"Allright, friend, then in we go." Milo looked forward to the path. It followed a straight road into the underbrush. The forest loomed ominously in the waning daylight. They followed the path, deep into the brush. After an hour or so, they set up camp due to the fact that night was upon them. As Milo set up a lean-to, Witchprince started a fire. All of a sudden, they heard a rustling behind them.

Milo jumped back, hand on his sword hilt. He stood, holding his ground, for whatever came at him. Witchprince drew Alash out of its scabbard, and it glowed with a red flame. Reflecting the fire of the sword was a pair of eyes. They advanced, slowly.

"HALT, NAZGUL! I HAVE AN ARROW TRAINED ON YOU HEAD, AND IT IS BLESSED WITH ELF MAGIC! NOT EVEN A NAZGUL COULD WITHSTAND IT! LET THE HALFLING BE!" A female elf step out of the shadows. She was short and fair, with long golden hair. Her green eyes shown with furious intensity. However, Milo and Witchprince did not notice this, due to the fact that they had an arrow trained on them.

"Elf! I am not his prisoner, nor in harms way! Do not harm him, I implore you! He is my guard!" Milo yelled. As he said this, he stepped in front of Witchprince. "You must slay me if you wish to harm him!"

The elf lowered her arrow. "So be it. I am Gayhuniel, cousin to the princess of Mirkwood. I was sent to help you and Gandalf on you journey. It was foretold thru a dream that you would need assistance. So I am here. But why did you take up with a Nazgul?"

"Elf, I am not a Nazgul, and he did not take up with me, I took up with him! I have sworn to protect him, and if that is good enough for him, then it should be good enough for you!" Witchprince said angrily. He put away his sword.

"I would be honored to have you accompany me. I have no reason to distrust you, and I have never met an evil elf, so it will be welcome company. But you must swear to let Witchprince alone, and be peaceful to all except our enemies." Milo said. He stopped trembling and sat down.

"All right. I am Gayhuniel the elf, and my sword and bow are at your service Milo Baggins!"

****

After proper introductions were made, they decided to take a discuss their plight. They sat down and made a large meal for wayward travelers (but a light snack for hobbits) and told their stories. Gayhuniel learned about Witchprince, and his history, and Milo learned of Gayhuniel and how she came to them.

"About a month ago, my cousin, Ryllyn Otaire the princess of Mirkwood , had a dream. In this dream, Ryllyn saw nine tongues of fire descend onto Minas Tirith and engulf it with flames. Then, the flames dissipated,, and in their stead was nine rings. They formed a circle and in the middle was a halfling's face. A voice was heard over the wind saying 'Seek out the Ring bearer's descendant... he will be the key... Gandalf will also be.... vital...' She told the King who sent me to seek the answers we want. That is why I'm here!" Gayhuniel looked at them both intently. "I must admit though, finding a wraith guarding the halfling startled me. I would expect that only ones on our side would know of this journey."

"I learned of this journey far before you, elf. I had a feeling in my soul that a great undertaking was started. I felt that one day someone would destroy my father who is evil, and I wished greatly to be one of the company that helped it to be."

Milo was startled at this comment. "Do you not feel any love for your father? He is your father, Witchprince!"

"Nay, young one. My father was only my father long ago. Before he fell to the lure of the evil magic, and before he fell to the ring. Now, he is just a enemy in my eyes. I hope by destroying his Nazgul form that I can free his spirit from the evil chains that bind him."

As the fire burned lower, they started to doze off, one by one, until only Witchprince was awake. He sat with his back against a tree, muttering to himself. Until he too, dropped of to sleep.

****

"Hello, friends!"

Milo woke with a start, as did the others. Standing in front of them, by the ashes of the fire, was a tall man and a dwarf. Witchprince grabbed his sword, Gayhuniel readied her bow, and Milo stepped back.

"I repeat, 'Hello, friends!" The tall man said. "You do not need your weapons, for I am here to offer my assistance."

"aye, me too." said the dwarf.

"Who are you?" Milo asked, with a mixture of fear, awe, and embarrassment in his voice. He motioned to the others to put away their weapons.

The dark haired man stuck out a rather large hand and said, "I am Vincent Arragon, son of Arragorn II, King of Gondor. And this is my friend and companion, Ombur."

Vincent was a large man. Standing about six feet tall, and with shining blue eyes. He had brown hair, and was clothed in the garb of the Dundadin. At his side was sheath outlined with flowers and elf runes. The dwarf was an almost comical sight. He had a weatherworn cloak and hood, (green in color) and a rusty grey beard. On his back was a short battle ax that was notched at the end.

"Ombur Ironfoot, at your service!" The dwarf also extended a hand which Milo also shook vigorously.

" Why would we need you assistance, son of Arragorn? What do you know?" Witchprince stood up and drew his sword. "Also, why do you bother us?" He brandished it in Vincent's face. With amazing speed, Ombur had un slung his ax, and knocked away Witchprince's blade.

"That's for us to know, son of Angmar! Do not draw your blade again, or it will be the last time you do!"

Witchprince bent down and grabbed Alash Zirzak. He put it back in it's scabbard. "Well, Master Dwarf, it would be best for you to speak civil to your elders and betters, or you will not speak at all!" There was tension in the air between them. Gayhuniel looked disinterested, Milo was in fear, and Vincent watched the whole proceedings with a bemused smile.

Milo, now getting over his fear at the possible loss of bloodshed, ran in between them. "PEACE! Do not fight each other, when there are more worthy people to bestow that honor on! Ombur, Witchprince, if you want to accompany me, you must only use your blades for enemies. Witchprince, you already swore, but it seems as your oath is weakening already! They offer their assistance and I accepted. They are now part of our company. You must not harm them!"

"Yes. I gave my word. I will not go back on it! But do not offer me any provocation, dwarf, or I may break my word and ask for the halfling's grace later!" They all sat down, and Vincent and Ombur let it be known how they came to the company.

" Long time I have been watching the Palatir of Orthanc, looking for signs of change. My kingdom was experiencing a period of bounty and happiness, so I thought it would be a perfect time to leave, and let my son, Arrathon, rule in my stead. I went first to the Lonely Mountain to see my allies to the North, the dwarves and the Bardlings. While I was there-" Vincent was cut off by Ombur.

" I apologize for me breach of etiquette, Vincent, but here I must take over the story. While Vincent was traveling to my abode, we were brought tidings from Minas Tirith. Gwahir, the eagle, told us that Arrathon had seen a undertaking to destroy the rings of Sauron in the palantir. He told us to seek out Vincent and bring him the tidings. He would be needed. When Vincent came to Dale, messengers was immediately sent to us. Dain III told him what we learned. He was about to set out when I asked to accompany him. I am a strange dwarf, for I love gold and metal, but not as much as the others. I seek adventure. Dain gave me permission and Vincent let me come. We have looked for many days for you, and finally we have found you. But our journey is just beginning!"

****

They packed up their camp, and got under way. It was a queer parade, what with a hobbit, a man, an elf, a wraith and a dwarf, walking in single file. The forest did not change, it was still dark and musty. The trees got thicker as they walked, until they came into a clearing. They had a light meal of Ombur's cram from Dale, and some water from a stream near by. Then, they set out again.

"When does this dratted forest end, Milo?" Ombur asked with impatience. " I hate to be here. It seems as the trees are watching me! As my uncle, Gimli, (him being my father's brother) said in Fangorn, 'My ax is not for trees! Bother me no more!' I will not harm you!" His eyes shifted back and forth.

"Fear not, Ombur! I have traversed these forests in my time, and there is nothing that will harm you. If you keep the peace you see around you." Vincent patted the dwarf's shoulder.

"Peace?" Ombur scoffed. "Peace is a nice mountain, with a fire in the hearth, and a mug of ale! This is stuffy danger, not peace!"

"To each his own, my grandfather always said. What makes for peace for you, Ombur may make uneasiness for others. I would rather have a flet in Lothlorien, and a feast with the Lord and Lady. But, that's just for me." Gayhuniel said. "We should find a place to camp. Daylight is waning."

They came upon the Bonfire Glade, and sat down. "This will make an excellent camping ground!" Vincent said. They set about making a camp, as the daylight started to fade. After Ombur had a cheery fire going, they made supper and started to take turns singing. When Gayhuniel's turn came, she sung a old elvish song of Nimrodel.

An elven maid there was of old,

A shining star by day;

Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,

her shoes of Silver grey!

A star was bound upon her brows,

a light was on her hair,

as sun upon the golden boughs,

in Lorien the fair!

Her hair was long, her limbs were white,

and fair she was and free;

and in the wind she went as light

as leaf of linden-tree!

Then, almost as if it came out of the forest, they heard a deep, but fair voice singing the next part of the lay.

"Besides the falls of Nimrodel,

by waters clean and cool,

her voice as falling silver fell

into the shining pool.

Where now she wonders, none can tell,

in sunlight or the shade,

for lost of your was Nimrodel,

and in the mountains strayed."

As the voice got closer to the end of the verse, it got stronger and louder, until a figure dressed in Mithril stepped into the clearing. A fair elf, standing about two yards high, with a shock of silver hair. His Mithril armor reflected the firelight. In a scabbard on his side was a sword with probably more lineage than .Anduil. "Well met, fair elf. Although you know nothing of me, I know of you, Gayhuniel. I have an idea of who the rest of you are too. I am Gunthrial Greenleaf, son of Legolas the renown! I have come to aid your quest!"

"Gunthrial... the name is familiar to me...." Gayhuniel said, deep in thought. "Oh, yes, the betrothed to my cousin, Ryllyn Otaire! I have not met you in person, but that is a shame. I would be honored if you joined our quest! However, it is not up to me. Milo?"

"YES! I mean, it would be good to have a sturdy elf with us (no offense, Gayhuniel). I will have you with us! Unless, there are any objections?" Milo looked to the others. Witchprince and Ombur shared a glance of light contempt.

"Then its settled. I will join you." Gunthrial sat down with them.

"How did you know of us, Gunthrial?" Vincent asked him.

"That, my king, I will tell you later. But-" Gunthrial jumped up. "Listen! Quiet and listen! I hear hoof beats!" They all readied their weapons. A tall figure loomed on a horse. He stopped at the end of the glade where the fire showed no light. A massive man on a tall horse, started towards them.

****

A shrill scream came from the figure, as the horse reared up and whinnied. Milo dived for cover. The others put their weapons close at hand, except Vincent. He smiled. "Only one horse in all of Middle Earth whinnies like that." He step forward. "Be calm, Shadowfax, you are with friends."

Gandalf rode into the circle of light on Shadowfax. Behind him was a hobbit. Milo recognized him with a joyous yell. "Robert!" Milo ran to Gandalf. "Gandalf! We were supposed to meet you in Bree! Why are you here? Why is Robert with you? Why-"

Gandalf cut him off. "Later, my dear Milo, all will be explained. As for now, I would like a bite to eat and a smoke if you don't mind." He went to the fire where Gunthrial was still sitting. He grabbed some leftover stew, and sat down to eat. Robert came over to eat also. After they had supped, they turned to the others.

Gandalf lit a pipe and began to talk.

" Well, met friends. I know of all of you, and why you are here. We will not speak of our errand out in the open, we will wait until we make it to Rivendell. As to your questions, Milo. I asked you to meet me in Bree on the 14th, which as you know, was yesterday. When you did not arrive, I set out to find you. I passed by Bombadil's house, and asked if he knew of you. He said that he heard of you, and that you were in the forest to the south. I went after you. And, I found you!"

"Where did Robert come from?" Milo asked. "Did you take him with you?"

"Nay, Milo! On my way to Bombadil's house, I found a little hobbit wandering at the eaves of the forest. I asked him what he was doing, and he said coming too see Milo Baggins. (He was coming from the direction of Bree) I told him that I sought Baggins too, and he came with me to Ol' Tom. " Gandalf puffed on the pipe. "But, maybe Robert should speak for himself!"

Robert Brandybuck stood up. He was a little taller than Milo, with a shock of red hair. He was dressed in the garb of the Shire Folk, complete with yellow knickers, and a green jerkin. Robert gave them all a large, warm smile and began talking. " Cousin, I had a mind to come and visit with you. As you know, I am residing in Bree, writing a book about life outside of the Shire. I was stumped as to what to write, so I wanted to find you and read what old Bilbo and Frodo wrote, for ideas. I left Bree about the same time Gandalf got there. When I made it to the Forest, I got side tracked, looking for a drink and a nap. When I woke up, Gandalf was standing over me. We had not met before, but there was a mutual knowledge of one another. He took me with him, and I got to meet Tom Bombadil. Oh, Milo, Goldberry is so nice! We had dinner with them, then we set out. When we saw your fire, we crept up in caution. Shadowfax got scared, and reared up. That startled me, so I screamed. So here we are. And by chance, is there any more of that stew left?"

Gunthrial handed Rob the last of the stew. "Well, Robert Brandybuck, this is a pleasure. While Gandalf knows us, we do not know you. I am Gunthrial Greenleaf. This is Ombur Ironfoot," Here Ombur bowed and said at your service, "Vincent Arragorn, King of Gondor, Gayhuniel Otaire, and last, Witchprince. We are the company that will destroy the rings of Sauron!"

"Nice to meet you!"

****

"Well, there are man things to talk about, and I feel that we cannot sleep, for we are too excited. How about gracing us with a song from Minas Tirith, Master Vincent?" Gunthrial asked, with a gleam in his eyes.

"I know many, but since I haven't been home for quite a while. I'll try to remember. Here... its called the Lay of Frodo

Who was the one who took the ring?

Who was the one who harpers sing?

Who was the one who stopped doom?

Who was the one who granted our boon?

Long live the Halflings, let them live long!

Long live the halflings, who can do no wrong!

Praise them, oh praise them, praise!

Praise them to the end of your days!

Who had four fingers, on one hand?

Who was the one who saved the land?

Who was the one who lived in the sand?

Who was the one, who traveled with Sam?

Long live the Halflings, let them live long!

Long live the Halflings, who can do no wrong!

Praise them, oh praise them, praise!

Praise them to the end of your days!

"That song is about Frodo!" Milo jumped up and clapped his hands. "Are they really singing that in Minas Tirith, Vincent? Is Frodo really that famous?"

"Yes, Milo. Frodo was, and always will be, a hero to the men of Gondor. We would of faced certain demise at the black gate if Frodo hadn't succeeded.. We will always be thankful." Vincent had a distant look in his eyes...almost as if he was at the black gate with his father. He fingered Anduil.

"Yes. I was there. We were about to be overrun when all the forces of Mordor went back. The Nazgul, who were on the battlefield, fled back thru the gate, as if the whips of Sauron was behind them." Gunthrial looked at their amazed faces. "Yes, I was there. A sight I wish I could forget.. Alas, the battles I was in will be burned in my mind forever."

"I was not there. While you were fighting Saruman and Sauron, we were dealing with his orcs in Dale and Esgaroth. Many orc necks have I hewn in my day." A dark cloud passed over his face. "I also would like to forget the battles, but it will not happen." Ombur looked at the company. "Gandalf, however need not tell us about his part in the great war. We all know."

"Yes, Ombur. But for now, I think we should go to sleep. I hope to make it to Bree tomorrow, and Weathertop the next day." Gandalf set down his pipe. "Ombur, will you take first watch?"

"Aye. But sleep with your weapons close at hand. I feel a foul air in the sky." The rest of the company went to sleep almost immediately.

The night got thicker and stuffier, almost as you could taste it. Ombur, being used to underground and darkness was not affected, but the others were tossing fitfully in their sleep. The noises of the night were in the air, and Ombur paid no heed to them until he heard a new one. Sniffing. Ombur grabbed his ax, and listened intently. He looked up and saw shadows creeping in the darkness. He smelled a foul stench and yelled, "WARGS! WAKE UP! WILD WOLVES ARE AMONG US!"

****

They all bolted awake. They readied their weapons, as the first wave attacked. Wargs, heathen wolves from the Northern borders, had come South. The company stood back to back, doing what they could to defend themselves. Gayhuniel, however, jumped atop a stump, and started to fire arrows into the pack. Many Wargs were felled by the silver arrows.

However, the pack was too much. Ones guarded Gayhuniel to the others. At the back of the swarm was a great grey wolf. Larger than the others, it seemed to be the chieftain of this tribe. He let out a lone howl, and the wolves drew back. They formed a circle around the fellowship, growling menacingly if any of them dared to move.

Vincent whispered, " We must either get away, or slay the leader. "

"That cheery grey fellow, you mean?" Ombur asked with cynicism dripping in his voice. "We have a better chance of finding Mithril in the Sea!"

"Well, we must do something! I have seen wargs, and when they do this they are readying themselves for an attack. What shall we do?" Gandalf asked them. After all, he had been on many travels, many more than any of the others.

Suddenly, Vincent jumped forward. Brandishing Anduil, he approached the pack. They growled, but parted to let their leader through. The pack watched, as Vincent stabbed at the grey wolf. The warg dodged the thrust, and snapped his jaws at Vincent. Vincent stepped back, and swung his mighty sword at the wolf. He hit the warg, and sliced his leg off. The wolf howled in pain, and charged Vincent. Vincent was not fast enough to get out of the way, and was tackled by the wolf. Wounded and angry, the wolf retreated, and pounced through the air at Vincent.

****

Suddenly, an arrow protruded through the Warg leader's throat. He fell, dead. The Wargs looked around, searching for the being that slayed their leader. All of a sudden, a shrill horn was sounded. The company looked around as the wargs fled.

"That is the horn of Ryllyn!" Gayhuniel looked around, searching for her cousin. Gandalf said a few magic words, and laminated the end of his staff. A small glow illuminated the glade. Stepping into the light was a fair elf, clad in green with blue trimmings. Long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she had two shining daggers thrust haphazardly in her belt. A lopsided smile was upon her beautiful face.

"Cousin!" Gayhuniel ran to the elf. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be in the halls of my uncle?" Gayhuniel hugged her cousin, and introduced them. "This is Ryllyn Otaire, the elf-princess of Mirkwood. She is the one who prophesied this quest. Ryllyn, this is Vincent, king of Gondor,"

"Pleased to meet you!"

"Milo Baggins and Robert Brandybuck of the Shire," They nodded hello, "Witchprince, a wraith, but do not fear, he has pledged his allegiance to the quest-" She was cut off.

"Nay, elf! I have pledged my allegiance to Milo, and only Milo! However, it is nice to make your acquaintance, princess!"

"Fine. Gandalf Grayhame, or Mithrandir in our tongue, however he needs no introduction!" At this, Gandalf let out a chuckle. "Ombur Ironfoot of the dwarves of-"

"We do not need introduction, Gayhuniel," Ombur cut her off once again, "Ryllyn, my friend, good to see you! How have you been faring?"

"Well, thank you, dear Ombur!"

Gayhuniel cleared her throat, to regain attention. "Last, but not least, cousin, is your betrothed. Gunthrial Greenleaf!"

Gunthrial walked forward. "My dear princess, it is truly a pleasure to meet you! Also, to find you well. However, I did not think this would be how we met! As you know, I must help this quest before I am to be wedded!"

"Yes. I saw that this quest could use another member, nine walkers once again against nine riders! I did not see meeting you before our wedding. But, let us put that aside! We must now focus our attention on the task at hand." Ryllyn grabbed the nearest bedroll and started to pack.

"Yes. Soon the wargs will be back, with orcs. The nearest orcs are leagues away in the Misty Mountains, but wargs can run fast when needed. We must make haste to Bree. There we will be safe, at least for the time being!" Gandalf said, while disassembling the camp.

They packed up quickly, and were back on the move within the hour. They finally made it to Bree in the wee hours of the morning. Just as the sun was rising, the North gate was open, and the small city of Bree was open to them.

****

They stepped through the great gates. As they walked in, they saw many dwellings clustering around the roads. Houses above ground, yet still one story, as to please the hobbit folk of Bree. Where there was hills, there were sandy hobbit holes, much like the Shire. They walked past the houses, enjoying the fresh air, and the thrill of being alive.

After the company past the first crossroad, they heard a commotion. "What is that?" Robert asked.

"I don't know, friend, but I think we need to find out! Let us go!" Ombur said as he picked up his step. The others followed him as he went along. As the passed a house, standing above ground, they saw three men scuffling. Two men, cloaked in dirty old garb were wrestling with a young man. They were overpowering him, when the company came upon them.

Quick as a flash, they had their weapons out, and had the ruffians at bay. Ombur, being the more hasty of the bunch, approached them, asking rapid questions. "Who are you?" What are you doing?" and "What in all of Middle Earth is going on here?!"

The young man, blonde with green eyes spoke. "They were trying to steal from me. I found a pretty ring, and they wished for it to be theirs. When I refused to give it to them, they tried to take it to me by force. They succeeded, but then they fought amongst themselves trying to claim it as their own. In the commotion, I managed to get my ring back. Its a precious ring. Yes, it is... a precious...." He turned to the fellowship. "Why is this your matter? I could of taken care of my own problems! Do you wish to take my ring from me too? I will fight you!" He whipped out a small dagger.

Ryllyn's usually jolly face was angry. She pulled out her two shining daggers. "I have better! And if you wish to find out if that is true, then let us duel. But, let it be known, that I never make a threat that I can't live up to!" At this, the two ruffians fled.

The blonde haired man went white. "I- I am sorry... I do not know what came over me. I... lost control... Here! Take this!" He flung the ring at Milo. "It is a fey ring! A terrible omen! I do not want it!" With that, he turned and fled.

"Hmm.... that was interesting. However, if I am correct in my thoughts, we should not examine this ring until we get to the inn. Let us make haste!" Gandalf looked at them, and picked up the ring that was now lying in the dust. He put it in his pocket, and they went on. Only one thought was shared between the company. "Was this one of the rings?"

****

They made good time to the Prancing Pony. The inn hadn't changed much since Frodo and company was there, except Old Butterbur was exactly that. Nob Hayward's son, Cob, was the innkeeper now. He had a jolly face, and a massive belly. He greeted them as they came in. "Ah, Master Gandalf is back! I'm a guessing you'll be wantin' room for nine, and food and drink too?" He said as he bustled by with a tray full of dirty mugs.

"Yes, Cob. I think you better make that two rooms though. We will not be here more than the night, but that's no reason to cramp ourselves in. Thank you!" Gandalf said, almost yelled at Cob as he was almost out of earshot.

"Yessir! In a minute sir! Be right back, I will!" Cob yelled. As soon as he said that, he came up to them. He escorted them to their rooms, and asked them what they wanted to eat. After they all ordered, he said, "I'll be back with your supper here in a while, if you'll pardon me. Too many heads, and not enough help ever since my pap and Bob retired. But, if you will come to the common room when your done, many people would be happy. We don't get hobbits, elves, dwarfs, and men in a company together often. Also, Gandalf, Old Barliman wants to talk to you as soon as you get a chance. Catch up on old times! But, if you'll pardon me, I have work to do!" With that, he went out the door.

"Well, here we are. I think we better have a look at that ring!" Vincent said as he stowed away his gear. The others did the same, and asked Gandalf to show it.

"Excellent idea, Vincent." Gandalf pulled the ring out of his pocket. He set it on the little round table in the corner, as they all looked in awe. Could this small thing be so capable to destroy a mortal?

Milo was the first to speak up. "Is this one of the rings, Gandalf?"

"Yes. I have reason to think. The pride and jealousy that the man demonstrated was evidence enough for me. Instead of vanquishing a Nazgul, one seemed to have found its way to us." Gandalf picked up the ring, which seemed to have shrunk in size.

"Luck... or a trick? I fear to guess." Gunthrial said. "It seems rather coincidental that this ring just found us. "

"Nevertheless, Gunthrial, we need to decide a ringbearer, at least until we get to Rivendell. Who shall it be?" Gandalf asked them. "I cannot take it, the temptation would be too great."

They all looked around, expecting one of the others to take the ring. Ombur finally spoke. "I'll take the rings, but I doubt if I have the power to resist it. Only if no one else will take it. Pr'aps the King's heir should take it?"

"Vincent? Yes, that will do quite nicely." Gandalf handed the ring to Vincent. Vincent put it on a chain. "This will do until we get to the home of Elrond. He will council us on what to do next. Vincent, are you up to this burden, for it will be a trial of skill and perseverance?"

Vincent fingered the ring. He had a look of deep thought on his face. "Yes. I will be the ringbearer, if only temporary." Suddenly, there was a knocking at the door.

Cob came bouncing in, just a Vincent put the chain on. "Here's your food, masters. If you need anything, just ring the bell!" They ate, and made to go their own ways. Ryllyn, Ombur, Vincent, and Robert elected the common room, Gandalf went to see old Barliman, and Gayhuniel and Gunthrial retired to their room. Milo and Witchprince decided to stay in a share a jug of wine.

****

After a while, they all met in the common room, except for Gandalf. The common room was almost empty, and they remembered words that Gandalf told them, "Be wareful. We are still on a mission to thwart evil, and there may be spies about." They got their drinks and sat down at a large banquet table. Vincent shot the remainder of the Bree-men a menacing look, and they left.

"Where is Gandalf?" Robert wondered aloud. He took a small sip of his brew. "I shouldn't wonder why he is not here, planning with us."

"Do not fear, Rob. Gandalf knows what he will do. It is up to us to follow him, or take our own path." Vincent replied. He had a look of quiet anguish on his face. "However, we may make plans without him. He will know."

As they got deeper in conversation, people walked in and out, some staying, some leaving. The company was oblivious to all their surroundings. Soon, a man dressed in black settled in the corner, watching Vincent intently.

Milo felt depressed. So far, he was excess baggage. "Oh why did Gandalf bring me along? I have done nothing important, and will not! After all, I am only a little hobbit!" He thought as he took a long pull of his drink. Suddenly he noticed the man in the corner. The man was now smoking a pipe. "Um, Witchprince? Vincent? Gunthrial? Do any of you know that chap?"

The others all turned and looked at him. Withchprince spoke up. "No lad, but I have noticed that he has nothing better to do then to stare at us!"

"Be wary, Vincent. I fear for us." Milo said, quaking with fear. The hairs on his hobbit feet were standing on end. "Robert, go find Gandalf... slowly. Do not draw attention to yourself. Go now!" Robert walked off nonchalantly.

Gunthrial stepped up. "If it is evil, it will do us no good to sit here waiting for Gandalf. I go to investigate." He put his hand on his daggers, and strode towards the robed figure. As he stepped closer, he seemed to freeze in place. Gunthrial turned around and walked back to the table. "Yes. We have a problem. I have a bad feeling about him. There is a foul air around him."

Suddenly, the robed man stood up.

****