Chapter 2: Amdir
Bran slowly opened his eyes to the warm feel of a fireplace. He yawned and looked around at where he was. It was a small room, with a mediocre fireplace. A large, golden edged carpet covered most of the wooden floor, and a few chairs were scattered across the room. And in one of the a man lay, eyes closed. He was lean, light-brown skinned, with a thin, high-cheek boned face. His fleecy, brown hair extended to his eyebrows, similar to his own jet-black hair. He was dressed in a dark, red tunic under a black leather vest, with hunting boot's and dark pants.
This must have been the man whom he had last saw before he blacked out. Bran looked down at himself and noticed that a dark stubble had grown, when he had last remembered it had been as smooth as a polished diamond. He was wearing a whit tunic along with cozy pants, meant for comfort. He lifted the covers off of himself and crept away from the warm bed. His feet cricked and cracked on the thin wooden floor as he made his way over to the doorway. Then, quick as lightning, the seemingly sleeping man leaped from his seat and held a long dagger up to Bran's neck.
The man was nervous as if he had been threatened, and his eyes were wild. Bran dare not move away from the blade, in fear of the dagger piercing it's target. Apart from the hot sweat beating down on his neck, he could feel the coldness of the blade, and it sent shivers through his body. The man breathed heavily and seemed liable to do anything at this point. For a brief second the two men stared each other down, sizing the other up.
Suddenly the man seemed to calm down, as he removed the dagger from Bran's neck. He now allowed himself to relax a bit as the man's breathing became slower and his eyes less piercing.
"Who are you?" Bran asked, still a bit shaken from what had just happened. The man sheathed his dagger and rubbed his thin beard softly.
"Tis' that I should be asking you that, Bran." he replied. There was a moment of silence, and as if reading Bran's mind, he said"When we found you, all you told us was a name. Bran. We figured it was yours." He then walked slowly over to the side of the room.
Bran looked at this man closely. After going over it in his mind a few times he decided that this must have been the man who found him. One thing he had noticed about the man who had cloaked him was that he had eyes as green as grass at summertime.
"Yes, it is." he said slowly, "But before I tell you my story...I would like to know yours."
"I don't find a good reason to be tellin' you my tale."The man sighed at this and once again rubbed his chin. "My tale is to long to tell you in detail." he paused. "So I shall have to shorten it."
Bran breathed thoroughly and sat down on the bed, leaning to the man to hear his every word. Then man sighed heavily, wiped sweat from his brow, and said, "My name is, Amdir. I hail from the South, and I am a Ranger. A damn good one at that, too."
A Ranger, he thought excitedly. Men who lived off the land. Skilled with a sword, and deadly with a bow. In his home town they used to pass through from time to time. They usually kept to themselves, drinkin' their ale or smokin' their pipe. They were a mysterious bunch, no doubt of that. But the people in his town, himself included, admired them. The more approachable ones would tell tales of epic proportion. It would tell of their adventures throughout the Misty Mountains, or how they encountered a group of Orcs. Each as exciting and riveting as the next. In truth, he had always wished he could be one of them. He was good with a bow, and had learned well the ways of the blade. He always considered leaving with them on their journeys.
"I ran way from home 7 years ago, when I was 20, and joined archers platoon in the army. One day we were out scouting the a forested area far out of Minas Tirith. We were ambushed. I made it out alive but couldn't find my way back to the city. I ended up in a small town in the southern Rohan. That's where I met Baragon, the other man who found you. I learned how to live off the land. Learned how to handle a sword. And here I am."
"3 days ago, Baragon and I, found a burning ship out on the Sea. We searched the coast for supplies, weapons, survivors, anything. You were the only thing we found except for some wet wood, and a dull knife."
Although he was listening intently, Bran stared away from Amdir. The ship he traveled on held friends, good friends. People he had grown up with. And now there was a high possibility that they were dead. He choked back tears, has his brown eyes made contact with with Amdir's own green pair.
"So, now that I've told you a 'bit about myself." he said, "I believe it's your turn to do so." he paused. "What were you doin' on the ship?" Amdir asked curiously.
Bran closed his eyes to compose himself and then looked upon Amdir again."My name is Bran, as you know. I was born in the North, Dale-land to be exact. I am 20 years of age, and when I was 17, I enlisted in a militia company. My father is a weapon smith, so I had many years under my belt sparring with him. I am very skilled with a sword, and have something of good aim with a bow. I spent about 2 1/2 years fighting at Angmar against Orcs and terrible things of that sort. Finally our numbers had dwindled to so little, that we were forced to head retreat from the front-lines, and let the reinforcements take over. Our path back by land was blocked, so we had to take a vessel back. But we were ambushed. Raiders attacked the ship and they killed many before we fought them off. During the battle the boat crashed into a large rock, and it began to sink. And so here I am."
Amdir stood silent for a moment, analyzing the story. Bran did the same as he stared at the weary Ranger. Amdir then walked slowly across the room into the small exit. Just as he was about to disapear from sight he held up a hand and motioned for Bran to follow him. He immediately followed him outside. The bleak sky barely gave any light to the tress and grass of the area. As Amdir led to a small work station, he couldn't help but notice the thick forest surrounding the area. The house itself stood resolute in a small open field, against a hill. Trees were plentiful all around the house.
Amdir walked to a small workbench where multiple swords in their sheaths lay. He picked one up and tossed it to Bran, who caught it with ease. bran unsheathed the sword to find a rusty, but light great sword. It had seen battle, that much was clear. Probably used for practice, for hours on end. He twirled it in his hand to get a feel for it, foreboding what would happen. Amdir did the same, and looked at Bran with his piercing green eyes.
"I think we should test your skills with a blade." he said, defiantly. Before Bran could respond, Amdir lunged at him with amazing quickness and swung. Bran, reacting on instinct, dropped the sheath and sidestepped the strike. Amdir balanced himself instantly and swung his blade again. The two men's blades met each other, as both struggled for an edge of leverage. Bran gave in and backed off and composed himself again. Amdir did not hesitate, though. He struck hard and swiftly, each strike meeting Bran's own blade, but driving him back nonetheless. As their blades were clashed above both of them, Amdir kicked Bran in the gut so that he was pushed onto a nearby tree.
Amdir swung for Bran's head, with a crazy look in his eye, but Bran sqautted down just in time. As he rolled away from his foe, he realized that Amdir was trying to kill him. He was actually trying to kill him! He blocked of another set of Amdir's strikes from his knees then, lifted an offbalance Amdir off of his legs, and onto his back. His sword flung far away from him, Amdir just stayed there, with Bran's sword over his sweating neck.
The two stared at the other for a few moments, trying to contemplate what the other would do. Suddenly Amdir moved the blade off of his throat in a fluid motion, and laughed heartily. As the man beneath him giggled, Bran looked at him as if he were insane. This is the man who had just been trying to run him through just a moment ago, and now he was laughing at him. He could feel the anger rise through him, as he clenched his hands tighter around the leather handle of the worn out blade. As if sensing the anger, Amdir ceased his laughing and picked himself up from the ground.
"You're better than I would have guessed, Bran of Dale. You even managed to best me. Not an easyy feat my friend." he said with a slight hint of cockiness in his voice, despite the fact that he had just been beaten. Bran just stared at him in disbelief.
"Hold on." he said with defiance. "You were trying to kill me, just a minute ago. And now you're complimenting me!".
The slight grin on Amdir's face disappeared, to be replaced by a grim look. "Do you think that a Brigand would stop before he ran you through. Or maybe a bloodthirsty Orc? In life nobody stops until they get what they want." He paused. "But like I said, it was a test. And you did more then pass. You confirmed my thoughts."
Now Bran lookeed at him with curiosity. "What thoughts, exactly." he said.
Amdir looked back at him and replied,"That you'd be a good edition to our group." with a smile. Before Bran could say anything, Amdir continued,"Follow me inside, I have to talk to you about a propostion."
Within a second Amdir was on his way inside. With thoughtful eyes he followed him in, and when he reached the steps, Amdir stopped, suddenly. He looked slowly from side to side of the house, for a few seconds, then continued inside. As Bran was walking in, he could of swore he heard feet stepping on branches. The sound continued for a little then stopped quickly. He spared a look back into the woods, and saw nothing. He walked inside.
Amdir poured them both a cup of ale and layed out a loaf of bread on a small table. They both sat down and sipped their drink for a few moments, saying nothing. The cool air coming through an open window chilled the back of his neck, making him shiver slightly. The silence continued as they continued to drink. Finnaly Amdir opened his mouth to speak.
"Do you have any family?" he asked, profoundly.
Bran hesitated for a moment, then answered, "No. My mother died when I was young and my father fell in battle. The only home I know is Bree. And I have no intention of going back to that place."
Amdir listened and sipped his drink once more. Bran could see that he was contemplating a decision, or something of that sort. He seemed deep in thought. So Bran sipped his drink some more. Amdir once again ceased the silence and said, "I'll be upfront with you, my friend and I, Baragorn need to travel south, near the Gap of Rohan. We need to meet a friend, near the Misty Mountains, he has some kind of work for us to do. He didn't mention much about except for this." he paused.
"It is a matter concerning Hobbits."
Hobbits. Ingenious creatures, really. They lived in solitude, rarely venturing out of their beloved Shire. Small people they were, standing barely over two feet tall. But their size did not matter, for they had other uses. They were fine story-tellers, brew-makers, and song writers. In his travels through Buckland, he had stopped by the tavern, and the scene had been wild. There were halflings dancing on tables, and smoking their pipe-weed. Other than that he had not many other dealings with Hobbits.
Amdir paused again, as if what he were about to say was physically pain full for him. "Do you know about the One Ring?"
There was a silence. Amdir sighed then recited the infamous rhyme.
"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie"
"The One Ring. Crafted by the Bark Lord, Sauron long ago. It is a object of unbelievable power and destruction. But you've been told that it no longer exists...am I correct?", Amdir asked.
Bran slowly nodded his head. He had heard this riddle before, when he was a boy. This was one that he had heard from his Father, whom had descendants of great valor and honor. But he once told him a story of a time long ago; where Men and Elves pulled together against Sauron, the Dark Lord. They fought, and the Dark Lord himself had come out onto the plain of battle, with the One Ring on his finger. Isildur, the King of Gondor, then came out to face him and slew off the finger. Sauron then disappeared and was no more, so it is told. The Ring then passed to Isildur, who held it for a short while, but he was attacked and killed by Orcs. As far as he knows, the Ring is lost, somewhere in the wilderness.
Not knowing exactly what to say, he just said, "Yes."
Amdir gave a slight grin, barely visible, but still there."To my own disbelief as well, it is not. Somewhere deep in the Shire a Hobbit by the name of Frodo Baggins, has possession of the Ring. Now my friend has asked me to come down to Bree with a few men and lend him a hand with whatever he needs. And I was wondering if you would mind joining my small company."
There was a silence. Bran wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that. He had nowhere to go, no family. But he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be a part of an adventure this big. Still pondering the question he remained silent.
"So that's just it, I'll just be part of a traveling party. And it's all that simple?" he asked, breaking the silence. Amdir looked away from him and sipped his drink once more, and ate a part of the loaf of bread. At last he looked down at his feet and said,
"My friend also said this." he paused. He leaned in close so that Bran could smell the ale from his breath."On the road we will take, there will be evil things stalking us. Things that were not meant to ever be created. Ringwraiths, they are called. Demons that serve the Dark Lord. Always searching, high and low, for the Ring. That is what we must fear on this journey. And the more men we have on this journey, the better chance there is of survival."
Bran took this all in, accessing the entire situation. Amdir waited silently, still sipping his drink. They both sat there for an hour or two, though it seemed as if it was ages, staying silent. Wanting to break the silence, but still not knowing his response, Bran remained quiet.
Finnaly, having come up with his answer, Bran said."I will go." with confidence.
Amdir smiled, gladly, and sat up from his chair."Well then, we've no time to waste. We must get you some new clothes, and suitable weaponry. We leave in 5 days." he said semi-happily. With that he was gone.
As he watched Amdir leave, Bran sat back and breathed heavily. He had begun another adventure. But only time could tell if it was an adventure he would want to be on. The cold air blew through the window as he peered out of it, not knowing what he expected to see. It was still bright out, and there were brids flying about blissfully. He sat up and walked towards the window. In a split-second, there was a quick noise, then nothing. Bran looked out the window hurridley, and for a moment, he could have swore he saw a glint of a black robe behind a tree. He leaned bac into the cabin and once again sat down on the chair, telling himself it was just his imagination.
