a/n: Welcome to the first chapter of my story. This is my first time writing a fanfic and I hope that everyone is kind enough to give me either a review or a healthy dose of constructive criticism. As you may have guessed from the title my fanfic is based on The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien. I by no means claim to own any of the characters, places or even the general plot used in this fanfic apart from my main heroine, Auriel. I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it and remember the more reviews you leave me the more motivation I have to get the following chapters out quicker ;P
Chapter 1: An Unexpected Guest
The air was still, as though waiting with bated breath for the first stirrings of life upon the valley. Mist gathered still within the trees and along the floor of the valley, covering everything in an icy shroud. Lines of men stood upon the lip of the valley, statues within the mist, staring at some unseen point on the horizon.
My own eyes strained in the half-light of oncoming dawn, but the mist which enshrouded our own army was providing the same advantage of cover for our enemy. Suppressing an impatient sigh I turned my eyes to the east, looking towards the ever lightening sky. It would not be long now till the horns sounded and I would lead my men into battle. Though many others in my position would feel nervous at the proposition of entering their first battle with a full company of men in their charge, I could only feel a strange sense of anticipation as the men beside me shuffled with nervous energy of their own.
The men of my company looked to me as light began to slip over the horizon and creep across the valley floor. I nodded to them in reassurance. It would not be long now, I thought to myself as my eyes searched the line of gathered men for the King and his entourage. He stood, regal in his polished armour and helm, at the very front of the army. It was he who was leading us all into the battle, the one who would be at the front of the first charge against the Dark Lord's horde.
I fingered the string of my bow absently, a smile growing and twisting my mouth into a smirk. It was true the King and his many Lords would be the first to wet their blades with the blood of the enemy, but my fellow archers and I would surely claim the first kills. The piercing note of a long awaited horn broke my reverie; however it was not one of ours. My eyes sought desperately in the swirling mists below, catching glimpse of the dark armoured enemy.
"Archers ready!" My voice seemed overly loud within the silence of the valley but still I could hear the answering creak of wood as my men followed my lead and drew back their bows. My eyes flicked to the side, waiting for the signal from my King. From the corner of my eye I saw his hand move, almost imperceptibly, and I raised my voice in my most blood curdling battle cry. "FIRE!"
My fingers relaxed allowing the string to slip from my grasp with a satisfying twang. There was no need to aim, not that there was much to aim at in the mists besides a few shadowy forms, but still I heard the fulfilling sound of arrows hitting solid target sand the accompanying grunts of pain. I did not allow myself too much time for gloating, though, immediately calling my men into action once again.
"Reload," I called, following my own advice. From within the mists I could hear the answering twang of strings being released and the air filled with the whistling of arrows flying through the air.
"HOLD STEADY!" I ordered grimly as I felt the unseen missiles gather in the air above us and begin their raining decent. A few men suddenly fell with groans of pain and lay silent, struck down by our enemy most foul.
I didn't allow myself time to take note of who we had lost. My voice rang clear and steady across the valley once again. "Ready!" The men again drew their bows and I waited for my liege. A horn blew, clear as crystal and twice as sweet, across the field. Our army suddenly burst into life, yelling wordless cries and banging their swords against their shields. The King raised his shield and yelled, lowering his sword towards the enemy in one swift stroke.
"FIRE!" The word roared from my chest as I released my arrow into the mists below. The infantry had begun their charge as arrows flew overhead, clearing the first wave of men and ploughing into the oncoming enemy troops.
I dropped my bow quickly and drew my sword, raising it to my men. "Free fire mode boys, its time to kill some orcs."
I turned and charged into battle, smiling with unrestrained glee as the sun began her ascent into the sky. The mists began to disperse revealing our enemy, and allowing those who had already "died" to leave the battle to sit and watch on the sidelines. I ran to catch up with Isildur as he charged through the enemy troops on his way to fight Sauron; however my progress was hampered by a pair of orcs.
I spun my padded sword with unnecessary flourish as I came to a halt before them, encouraging them to fight me with my free hand.
"Hey, you're an archer aren't you?" One man asked in confusion, noticing the white band on my upper left arm.
"Yeah, so?" I asked in bewilderment.
"Well, don't the rules say that if we come within five meters of an archer that means they're automatically dead?"
I sighed in frustration. "I'm a General and also a light swordsman," I said impatiently, "so the usual rules don't apply. Now did you want to fight or not?"
The two men nodded and I readied myself, but still the men hesitated. "So do we both come at the same time or do you want to fight us one at a time?"
I growled at them in annoyance, "I don't care! Just fight already." Finally they just both came at me together and it took me less than two minutes to have them both incapacitated.
"Hold!" they both cried in unison as I stood over the top of them with my blade pointed threateningly towards their chests. I nodded and stood back allowing them to stand. I checked to make sure nothing more than their pride was injured.
"It was a good fight for what I'm guessing was your first time," I said amicably. The two men nodded sheepishly, red flushing across their cheeks. "Next time though, when someone tells you they're a General its best not to try and fight them, especially if it's your first War."
The men nodded and left the field allowing me to turn back to the fighting. But I was unprepared for the figure that appeared behind me. Standing over a foot taller than my own tiny four feet ten inches and carrying an enormous, double bladed axe, was the Dark Lord himself. I felt my heart leap in my chest as he turned to face me head on…and laughed.
I scowled. "What's so funny?"
"I just didn't expect to find such an amusing challenger so early in the morning," Sauron laughed mockingly.
"I think you'll find me more than just amusing," I said haughtily, "Why don't you test just how amusing I can be?"
"Alright then little girl," Sauron said menacingly as he lifted his axe effortlessly, "but I can't promise not to make you cry."
I shrugged nonchalantly, "I guess I can't make the same promise either so we're even."
Sauron laughed again. "Bring it on!"
I smiled wolfishly and rushed forward quickly, swinging my sword high. Sauron lifted his axe almost lazily deflecting my blade with a single sweep. I allowed my blade to follow his sweep and changed my footing slightly to duck under the impending blow. My smaller size, however, allowed me to move with greater speed. I quickly rose swinging my sword upward in a back-hand slashing motion, making contact with Sauron's exposed right side.
Sauron took a step back and looked at me with surprised eyes. I watched cautiously as his eyes narrowed, recalculating the threat I posed. "Hit!" he called to the heralds watching our match. I had no time to smile, though, as Sauron's next attacks came swift and strong. I ducked and dodged the great sweeps he made with his axe, parrying the last of them with effort as the blow almost sent the sword spinning from my hand. I had to take care not to allow myself to be hit because even though the weapons weren't real, only made of rubber and foam, they would still bloody hurt if I got hit by a blow as strong as his.
Sauron grew more confident as he began to get my measure, keeping me dancing away and defensive meant that I was unable to get close enough to make any hits since his reach was greater than my own. I could see the smug smile forming behind his helm as he swung his axe about in a showy flourish above his head, forcing me backwards.
"You are not the one to defeat me today girl," he said with a cruel laugh.
Suddenly he seemed to grow even larger and more menacing in his black armour and I began to feel the first stirrings of fear. With a quick shake of my head, though, I quickly shook off the notion. It was, after all, just a game.
"Oh I don't know about that," I jeered, "I have managed to score one hit on you, whilst you still have yet to touch me."
This seemed to spur Sauron into a greater rage as he began to swing his axe more quickly again. I laughed as I danced easily out of reach.
"You can't keep running away, I will catch up eventually." Sauron growled through gritted teeth.
My laughter seemed to catch in my throat and I stumbled as another wave of irrational fear gripped me. The moment of weakness was enough to give Sauron an opening and his axe caught me in the side, earning him a grunt of pain as the air was knocked from my lungs and I was thrown back, hitting the ground hard.
"Hit!" he exclaimed contemptuously above me. I lay a moment, letting the black spots fade from my vision before I forced myself into a sitting position. I pushed away the feeling of sickness that arose in my throat and nodded. "Hit," I conceded graciously, trying not to throw up as I felt one of my ribs grate against another.
I gulped down huge draughts of air as I pushed the queasiness to the back of my mind. Sauron's voice lost its rough edge as he stood watching me with a look of concern.
"Are you okay?" he asked uncertainly.
I nodded but it mustn't have been too convincing because he dropped his axe and rushed to kneel at my side.
"Do you think you can stand?" the concern in his voice was completely genuine, all thoughts of the role-playing gone as he put his arm gently around my shoulders as support.
"I think so," I replied unsteadily. With Sauron's help I regained my footing but the pain in my side increased to dizzying new heights. I gasped as black spots danced across my vision, gripping Sauron's arm tightly to steady myself.
"My Lady?" the voice sounded distorted to my ears, as though coming first through a pane of thick glass. I tried to focus my eyes on the face beside me but instead I beheld a visage more fearsome than any I had ever known.
Above me loomed a giant man covered from head to foot in pitch black steel-plate armour. His helm covered his entire face except for a slit for the eyes to see through and within I could see them burning red as flame and twice as hot. He pierced me with his gaze, searing through my soul as he ravaged my mind seeking to consume me. I tore my eyes away from that gaze and looked at my own hand, lying white against the black steel of his forearm. In shock I raised my hand from his arm and immediately felt myself lose my balance and begin to fall. In terror I tried to reach out a steadying hand but felt nothing upon which to lay it as my vision darkened and I was swallowed whole by the dark void of sleep.
I do not know exactly how long I stayed, falling within the darkness, to me it felt like an eternity. However a subtle change came upon the darkness, where once it had held nothing but an oppressive black silence there suddenly came to my ears the sounds of voices, muffled by distance but growing louder. I turned towards those voices in the darkness focusing my mind upon them until they seemed to come to me clearly but in a strange tongue. I ignored them then, resolving to fall back into the void until I realised they were speaking words I could understand, though they were not my native language.
"Ha cuiol?" the voice asked apprehensively.
I ran the words through my mind uncertainly. Where had I heard them before? I thought musingly to myself.
Another voice, older it seemed, answered quietly in a completely different sounding language. I strained my ears to catch more words but they seemed to escape before I could grasp them fully. In my effort, though, I must have made some movement or sound because I suddenly felt the presence of the two unknown people draw nearer. Even with my eyes closed I could feel one lean closer beside my head before a warm hand was placed on my brow. The older voice continued to mumble a continuous string of incomprehensible words. I forced open my eyes, staring blearily up at an elderly man with a fantastic grey beard and kindly blue eyes. He smiled reassuringly at me and continued to talk in an encouraging tone. I tried to shake my head to show I didn't understand but the movement sent knives of pain shooting through my skull as I finally noticed my pounding headache. With a groan I raised my hand to my head, in a useless attempt to relieve the pain.
"I don't suppose either of you have any paracetamol?" I asked hopefully.
The old man's eyes turned from kindness to steely anger as he looked at my wrist. I followed his gaze with my own and saw that my sleeve had fallen back to reveal my tattoo. I looked up at him in confusion, some people had a strong aversion to such things but to see such anger from a stranger was a little off putting. Hesitantly I put down my arm and pulled the sleeve down over the tattoo.
"Is something the matter?" I asked.
The man didn't answer instead turning from me and speaking rapidly to the other man, who I had so far ignored. The second man was dressed richly in flowing robes and his dark hair was long and flowed freely down his back. Upon his head was a silver circlet, fashioned to resemble a vine twisting around and through itself in an appealing pattern. I looked at him in wonder as I felt somehow his breathtaking beauty was something other than human, something one might call elvish.
The older of the two men grabbed my wrist in a gentle but firm grip, tugging back my sleeve and revealing my tattoo for the other man to inspect. I could hear the quick intake of breath from the elvish man and his eyes looked deeply into my own before he turned to the older man and spoke rapidly in the familiar sounding language.
I could not catch all that was said between them but my mind began to pick up words that sounded more familiar until realisation suddenly dawned upon me.
Hesitant to interrupt the obviously important conversation but desperate to understand I dared clear my throat and speak.
"Henion," I said softly. I understand.
They did not hear me, so involved were they in their conversation. I sat up against my pillows and tried again. "I said henion," I said a little irately, "I can understand you."
The two men stopped mid sentence and looked to me in surprise. The elvish man dashed over to me and spoke quickly.
"Pedich i lam edhellen?" he asked. Do you speak Elvish?
I nodded, smiling. "Henion," I said again. "Though I am amazed anyone can understand you at all since your accent is terrible."
The man seemed confused by my words. Perhaps he doesn't speak English, I thought to myself, I guess we'll just have to use elvish as the middle ground.
With a smile I racked my memories for some of the more common phrases.
"Man eneth lín? "I asked slowly. What is your name?
The two men looked at each other dumbfounded for a moment before the elvish man turned back to me.
"Elrond i eneth nín," he replied a little surprised. My name is Elrond.
It all began to make sense as sudden memory of the War flooded into my mind. Of course I am still at the camp; I thought quickly, I must be at one of the medic stations. I was thoroughly impressed with the commitment these role-players had gone to. Obviously someone had spent a long time on sewing costumes and outfitting the room to look and feel like something out of Middle Earth and the men had gone into great detail with their characters. Now that I had more time to examine them I could see the pointed ears peeking out from the wig of "Elrond" and could take a stab at guessing the old man with the impressive beard and dressed completely in grey was "Gandalf". I laughed happily as all the pieces slotted neatly into place.
"Mae govannen, Elrond!" I exclaimed happily. Well met, Elrond!
"You really had me going there for a moment," I said with a feeling of relief as I lay back more comfortably against my pillows.
"I do not understand," Elrond replied in elvish.
I sighed dramatically, "Fine if you want to be like that," I said annoyed, "Auriel i eneth nín."
I can not say what made me give my elvish name instead of my real one but it seemed to have an effect on Gandalf and Elrond. Their eyes met again and then fell simultaneously to my wrist.
"What is this marking?" Elrond asked me in quick elvish, but now that my ears knew what they were listening to I could understand him easily.
"It's a tattoo," I explained as well as I could but I could not remember any elvish equivalent of the word, "A drawing that does not fade nor wash away."
Gandalf stepped forward then. "Do you know what it means?" he asked softly.
"Yes," I said simply then recalled the words to mind.
"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the Darkness bind them."
As my words filled the room Gandalf's face began to pale and grow graver until, finally, my words came to an end and he stood quietly as though consumed by some great evil.
"Never speak those words again child," he said with a note of absolute authority in his tone, "Elrond I must speak with you."
Without another word Gandalf and Elrond exited the room, leaving me alone to contemplate exactly what had happened. I tried to examine the situation in my head but the effort left me sporting an even worse headache than before, if that was at all possible, and nothing more to show for it than a greater respect for the more experienced role players. Not only were they so in tune with their characters that they can speak elvish almost as fluently as myself, I had spent several years studying elvish at university, but they brought the scene so alive by acting in character constantly without erring.
I sighed, feeling suddenly tired. Perhaps I had finally found a perfect Middle Earth, or at least come as close as I would ever get, I thought to myself as sleep overcame my mind.
When I next awoke it was dark. Not the complete and oppressive darkness of the void, but the more comfortable and familiar darkness of early evening. I stared at the roof, watching the shadows flicker and dance, my eyes drawn to the dark beams of richly carved wood above me. It suddenly occurred to me then that I had not been brought to the general medical tent at the camp, but instead I had to be at a nearby house, perhaps belonging to one of the men role-playing as Gandalf or Elrond.
As my eyes adjusted to the half-light coming from my window, I began to realise that these people had not only made an effort with their clothes and speech, but also with their entire house. I pulled myself cautiously into a sitting position to get a better view, feeling the tightness in my side from half-healed ribs. With wonder I stared around my room, noting that whilst it was furnished sparsely it had such richness, with each piece of wood so intricately engraved, that I could not find it lacking in any way. That was, until I realised, there were no lights or electronics of any description.
Perhaps they are just well hidden; I thought to myself as I gingerly swung my legs over the side of the bed and placed my feet on the cool stone floor. With a steadying intake of breath I pushed myself onto my feet, balancing a little uncertainly on weakened legs. So intent was I on ensuring I didn't topple straight over, that I didn't notice the figure standing quietly in the doorway. There was no movement or sound to alert me to her presence and yet I somehow became aware of someone's eyes upon me. I looked up and smiled ruefully as a lady, dressed as an elf in a modest, floor-length gown, nodded her head respectfully before quickly gliding over to offer me a steadying arm. Too tired to argue, I took her offer without a word and she assisted me to sit in a comfortable chair beside one of the many windows overlooking the torch-lit gardens.
"Thank you," I said gratefully but I could see the confusion in the woman's grey eyes.
"I am sorry but I do not understand your tongue," the woman said quietly in elvish.
I forcibly suppressed a sigh and smiled reassuringly, quickly changing to reply in the same language. "I merely thanked you for your kindness, My Lady. My name is Auriel, may I ask for the privilege of receiving your name?"
The woman smiled, revealing her perfect white teeth and a sparkle of starlight within her mysterious grey eyes. "I am Arwen, daughter of the Lord Elrond. I have been sent to attend you and see to your needs."
Of course you are, I thought sardonically to myself. But I had to admit the resemblance between the two was remarkable but they seemed more likely to be siblings in age rather than father and daughter. I decided that I was getting tired of these people and their constant role-playing, but I did not know how I could possibly broach the subject without giving offence. So instead I continued to play along falling easily back into my own role of Lady Auriel Telemnar.
"I am honoured by the attentions of such a fine Lady," I replied with careful courtesy, "but might I ask a favour from you?"
"If it is within my power to grant such a wish," Arwen said kindly.
"I find my bladder in need of relief. Can you point me in the direction of the bathroom?" I only guessed some of the words, as elvish had rarely covered anything as intimate as needing to pee, or even whether elves did such things, but I had become desperately aware of the immediate need to relieve myself.
Arwen blushed delicately and lowered her eyes away from my face. "Many of your words are unfamiliar, but I think I can correctly guess what it is you wish." She gestured toward a carved, wooden partition on the opposite side of the room. "You may find relief for your ailment behind there."
Arwen helped me to my feet and led me across the room. Once secured behind the partition she left me with barely a whisper of cloth to indicate her parting. I stood for a few moments uncertain of exactly what I was supposed to be looking at. A deep pot sat on the floor with a basin and pitcher of water on the table beside it. With a rising sense of horror I tried to search for another explanation for the chamber pot to have been left in that place but I knew there could be none. You have got to be kidding me, I groaned silently to myself as I was left no other option.
A few awkward moments later I was feeling considerably lighter and beginning to regain my strength. The pitcher of water had given me a chance to wash the sleep from my face, leaving me feeling much more refreshed as I peeked from behind the wooden screen. Arwen was entering the room with a few other women, each carrying gowns of varying shades of autumn colours. As soon as she noticed me still standing awkwardly beside the partition she motioned me forward with a simple nod of her head.
"I have arranged for some proper clothing for you to wear now that you are once again well enough to leave your bed," she said, "My ladies will help you dress and bring you to me once you are ready."
I nodded and gave a quick curtsy as she left, I don't know why but it felt like the right thing to do. The women she left me with were also dressed as elves, with long free-flowing hair and floor-length gowns of muted greens. I smiled at them but they remained silent as they held out the gowns for my inspection. I chose a gown of a deep blood-red, my favourite colour, edged with gold embroidered leaves and a matching gold girdle. The sleeves were long enough to cover the tattoo on my wrist, which I noticed the ladies trying to avoid looking at, as much as practicality allowed. I was dressed by the ladies with practiced efficiency, laced in as tightly as my battered ribs could handle, and soon found myself being led through the corridors of a grand, if somewhat poorly lit, house. With wonder I looked around as I was lead into a magnificent dining hall, complete with an enormous table laden with food. Arwen was standing beside Elrond who was overseeing the other elves as they brought forth even more dishes and platters, indicating where they were to be placed on the table. I was led directly towards them by my guides; however I was stopped before we could finish our approach by the man dressed as Gandalf.
"I wish to speak with the Lady Auriel," Gandalf said quietly to the two women, who nodded and left with slight curtsies. I stood a little uncertainly, dazzled by the grandness of the feast being prepared.
"Follow me child," Gandalf said as he took me by the elbow and led me from the room. Outside in the corridor I found myself staring through grand windows overlooking a magnificent compound of gardens and pathways, intersected by a quickly flowing river. With wonder I looked, open mouth, upon greenery so unfamiliar that it seemed entirely possible that I had been brought to the real Rivendell. Feeling entirely foolish though I quickly shook the notion from my head and turned to look at Gandalf.
I found him watching me with a sense of expectancy, as though he had been waiting for my reaction. Disappointment seemed to shadow his face as my reaction did not meet his expectations.
"Long have I pondered your presence at the Ford, from whence our enemies sought to take from us a prize most precious only two months earlier. You do not understand the common tongue of man, though it is the race from which you most surely come, yet the fair tongue of the elves flows from your lips like the sweetest honey," he paused as though to gauge my reaction, "It is said that wizards can take any form they desire, but I have looked into your heart and see no deceit or lies. To put it bluntly, my dear you are a perplexing puzzle for which I do not have the time to solve."
I was taken aback by his sudden speech. Did Gandalf truly expect me to believe this charade that these people had become so deeply involved in? I thought darkly to myself. It was true that I was impressed by the lengths they had gone to, the effort they had spent, to replicate a world so magical and wonderful but I felt I could no longer go along with their game.
"Alright I've had enough!" I exclaimed impatiently, "Look you have all been incredibly kind to me but I think it's time that I went home."
"I'm sorry but I don't understand," Gandalf said patiently.
"Yeah right!" I exclaimed sceptically, "and I suppose you would have me believe that this really is Rivendell and that all these people are actually elves and I am in Middle Earth! Next you'll be telling me that Frodo is here with the One Ring and we're all setting off together on a quest tomorrow to go and destroy the bloody thing."
Gandalf started and leaned forward, grabbing my arms in an iron grip. His keen gaze searched my face intently as though trying to read my very soul. "Who told you of the hobbit? Who gave you the name of Frodo?"
"Are you serious? I know them all almost as well as I know myself; Sam, Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and even Boromir despite his death early on in the story. You would be surprised at how long I have spent studying the Lord of the Rings trilogy and even the Silmarilion."
Gandalf's face grew more thunderous as I counted the names off one at a time on my fingers. While he didn't seem to understand all that I said the names he definitely understood and for some reason they seemed to send him into a rage. "Who is it that gave you the names of these men? Who is your master girl, name him and you may live to see the dawn!"
Gandalf shook me harshly back and forth, as though completely consumed with his rage. I stood, quaking in terror at the ramblings of the mad-man.
"Gandalf?" the voice was high pitched and frightened but seemed to have a calming affect on the crazed old man. Gandalf released me and stepped back allowing me full view of four boys, all standing no taller than waist height and dressed in cute little waist coats. At first I mistook them for children but I then realised that they were in fact fully grown men all of whom appeared to be older than me.
Gandalf spoke to the men calmly in the unfamiliar language I had heard him speaking before with Elrond, of which the only words I could understand were the names 'Frodo' and my own. After a few minutes of unintelligible conversation Gandalf had convinced the hobbits to leave and we were once again alone in the secluded corridor. Now in better control of his emotions, Gandalf returned his hard gaze to me making me flinch slightly as I saw a new, incomprehensible expression on his face. Without a word Gandalf grabbed my upper arm firmly and led me back into the dining hall, marching me straight up to Elrond, interrupting him in the middle of a conversation with another elf.
Another quick flurry of words I didn't understand were spoken over the top of me. At some unseen signal from Elrond two men approached, I guessed they were guards from the way they were dressed and the swords on their hips, and I was whisked away by a pair of strong arms. The men took me directly back to my room, leaving me in a confused heap on the bed as they quickly left, securing the door behind them. Stunned by the sudden change in attitude I realised I had suddenly gone from a guest to a prisoner in a matter of minutes. Unable to sit and do nothing I ignored the steadily growing pain in my side and rushed to the door, pounding my fists against the unrelenting wood.
"Hey, what is going on?" I cried, "You can't just lock a person up like this!"
My cries garnered no response so I changed tactics, switching to Elvish in the hopes that they would at least tell me what I had done wrong. But no matter how much I cried or how sweetly I spoke I received no response, though I could see the shadows of the men standing outside my door through the crack at the bottom. Eventually I caved to my battered body's demands and returned to my bed. Fully clothed I lay upon it and though I fought it valiantly I did finally close my eyes and succumb to sleep.
a/n:
For most of the elven I have provided the translations in italics beside the spoken words. However, the first words spoken by Elrond weren't able to be translated in that fashion due to the way I wanted the story to flow so for all those who are curious I have provided the translation below:
Ha cuiol? - Is it living?
I hope everyone was able to understand that when I had the characters speaking in Italics it meant they were speaking elvish. When Auriel was speaking english she did not have her words italicised but I did have to Italicise her inner monologues to differentiate them from the general narrative. I apologise if this caused any confusion.
Um also I am Australian so for those of you who use the American spelling of words and are unfamiliar with British/Australian spelling we Aussies often add 'u's and use 's' instead of 'z', so no I'm not spelling it wrong I'm just spelling it the Aussie way. But please don't think that I am perfect with my spelling, I know how easily things can be overlooked. If you do find some consistant spelling/grammar errors and wish to do so please point them out and I will endevour to fix them in the future.
Well that's all for now. I look forward to your reviews and please keep an eye out for the next chapter!