Chapter 1 - Tears of Mordor
Faramir sat in a darkened corner at the Shards of Narsil, nursing a tankard of ale. The Shards was one of the few drinking establishment still open in Osgiliath, as much of the once great city lay in ruins.
Faramir and the Rangers under his command had just returned from the wilds of Ithilien. They'd clashed with a party of Orcs caught on Gondor's side of the border. One of his rangers, a young man who hadn't yet completed his training, had taken a poisoned arrow in the thigh, forcing them to cut the patrol short and fall back to the city and find a healer.
The man was out of danger now, and all Faramir wanted was to sit here quietly with his tankard between his hands, with only his thoughts for company.
"Are you Captain Faramir? I was told I could find you here." The old man's brown robes for ragged, and there were leaves in his hair as though he'd just come in from the wilds. "May I join you?" He pulled up a chair and sat down.
Faramir was too tired to make polite conversation with a stranger, but the man was already sitting down, so he could hardly say no.
"I'm Radagast the Brown," the stranger said. Faramir hadn't met the Brown Wizard before, but he knew who he was. Radagast was a well-known figure in Ranger lore, a gentle soul who loved animals and birds. He'd made his home in Rhosgobel in Southern Mirkwood, dangerously close to Dol Guldur, the home of the Necromancer. The Rangers tried to warn him of the danger on his doorstep, but he hadn't taken their concerns seriously.
Radagast had stayed on at Rhosgobel, caring for the creatures of the forest, and didn't seem to notice when the woods around him were overrun by spiders and poisonous plants.
The Brown Wizard unfolded a piece of parchment from the folds of his cloak and unfolded it on the table. It was a map of Ithilien, showing where the mostly abandoned land bumped up against the ill-defined borders between Ithilien and Mordor.
"I've come here from Rhosgobel to look for a bird, the double-banded scrub weaver. It can only be found in Ithilien, in the foothills of the Ephel Dúath. Have you ever been there?"
Faramir had. His duties as a ranger took him all over Ithilien, even to the slopes of the Ephel Dúath, the mountains encircling Mordor.
"Did you happen to see a plant called the Tears of Mordor? It's a small thorn bush with grayish leaves and dark red berries."
Faramir nodded. He was familiar with the twisted little shrub with inch-long thorns. The berries had medicinal properties, and he'd gathered as many of them as he could find.
"My bird feeds on the berries, so before I set out, I wanted to be sure the Tears of Mordor grew there," said Radagast.
Faramir stiffened. "You can't be thinking of going there alone." Radagast was Gandalf's cousin, and out of respect for Gandalf, Faramir wasn't going to let the fool get himself killed. "You really shouldn't attempt the trip alone. A ranger could get in and out safely, but rangers are highly trained trackers and warriors."
"So you're saying, if you were my guide, we could get in and out safely? How can I say no? I'll meet you in front of the Shards first thing tomorrow morning."