Before we get started I would just like to respond to the reviews I have
received.
Obi-Wan and Tinabedina - I am glad you liked it (although we all know what a liar Obi-Wan is), Kochanski - thanks for the kind words and the use of British swearing, made me quite homesick and, to answer your queries OtakuNeev - sorry if you find the story derivative but all stories in the history of story-telling are derived from six basic storylines. You're right though, the structure I am using has been over used (not just in fantasy, think Magnificent Seven, think Watership Down) but at the end of the day I think it comes down to the content within the structure - hope I don't disappoint! As to the other Elves being able to hear Legolas, I assumed that Legolas would be as silent as a mouse in fluffy slippers. Cheers, Slave 1.
Part 2
The magpie was awake earlier than the others in its nest and had taken full advantage of the early morning sun to warm its feathers as it soared above the treetops. A flash of light in one of the larger trees caught its greedy eye and the bird swooped down to investigate the sparkling treasure. Only once it had woven its way through the tangled top branches of the Oak did it see that the sparkly thing already had an owner who wore it upon his smallest finger, and that the very same owner was now stretching and yawning, dappled in gold from the morning rays. The magpie realized this was one bauble it would not have, and flew off towards the river and the chance of catching juicy gnats on the air.
Legolas stifled a last yawn and sniffed the air. He could smell the remains of his brothers' camp, the strange, earthy smell of blue fire embers, the nutty smell of bannock bread baked on sticks and. murkweed. Murkweed? None of the Elves smoked a pipe and he had never smelled the pungent fumes around Scarp Hedin before, so where was it coming from? He quickly scanned the forest floor from his perch but nothing stirred save small animals and insects. He listened carefully. Just the usual sounds of the forest waking up, plus the sound of Hedin's boots against pebbles. So he was now taking them along the river. Legolas' perfect brow furrowed, his translucent skin rippling like wavelets in a puddle. The river led only to Traimon's Pass, surely Brinwier knew that.
The young Elf swung off the large branch that had doubled for a bed and nimbly leapt into the next tree and the one after that, with a grace to shame the most agile of cats.
It did not take long for Legolas to spot the Elven party. As he had thought they were indeed traversing the edge of Cor River, stepping so lightly so as to not disturb the pebbles under their feet. A shame the same could not be said for Scarp Hedin. The wiry human could hardly make more noise as he scrambled over the stones. For a tracker he was decidedly un- stealthy. It was harder for Legolas to follow the party now as the trees by the water's edge were willowy and scarce, so he had to stay further inside the forest, sticking to the larger trees and catching glimpses of his brothers through infrequent gaps in the trunks. Suddenly the stench of murkweed assaulted his nostrils once again and he froze, squatting on a large branch close to the body of the tree he was on. Now he could hear something. The deliberate and cautious tread of hunters. Small twigs softly snapping underfoot, the brush of course cloth on leaves. He turned toward the direction of the sounds and was amazed to see a hooded figure standing below him and staring up at him. The figure was short and stocky and waving its hands in Legolas' direction. How could he not have heard the approach of this creature? Legolas opened his mouth to shout a warning to his brothers but his cry was abruptly silenced as a mossy tendril forced itself between his teeth and filled the space inside his mouth. Before he could react another branch snaked out from the tree trunk and wrapped around his ankles, hoisting him high into the tree, dangling helplessly like a squirrel caught in a snare. All but two of his arrows fell from his quiver to the grassy carpet below. The pair that remained were snagged in his belt. His hands were still free and Legolas shrugged off his bow and twisted to grasp one of the arrows. He heard the reassuring click of the arrow against the shaft of his bow and drew it back, but when he craned his head around to aim at the creature he saw nothing. The wooden gag in his mouth tore at the delicate skin of his lips as he struggled to find a target but he was alone, trussed up and useless. He stretched around as far as his binds would allow and could just make out the other Elves. They had stopped in their tracks and were peering back towards him, although the way they scanned the trees suggested that they still had not seen him. Legolas tried to wave his arms but to no avail. He had to attempt to warn them. Slipping off the ice gem ring that he wore on his little finger he rammed it against the feathers of his arrow and prayed that it would not affect its flight. Then, using a reverse shot that Brinwier himself had taught Legolas, he fired the arrow towards the Elves where it clattered against a block of flint, sending up sparks and landing at Dellane's feet. Legolas watched her pick it up, then mouth his name to Brinwier. He heard Brinwier shout "Back!" and the Elves began to run back towards Legolas' tree of imprisonment. All too late Legolas realized that this was not what they should be doing and attempted to feebly sign his desire for them to return back to clear ground. However the trap, with Legolas as the bait, had worked perfectly and the band of Elves reached him in seconds, unaware of the shadows that seemed to rise up from the bushes all around them and take the forms of black-clad Dwarves.
More to come - stay tuned! - NJB
Obi-Wan and Tinabedina - I am glad you liked it (although we all know what a liar Obi-Wan is), Kochanski - thanks for the kind words and the use of British swearing, made me quite homesick and, to answer your queries OtakuNeev - sorry if you find the story derivative but all stories in the history of story-telling are derived from six basic storylines. You're right though, the structure I am using has been over used (not just in fantasy, think Magnificent Seven, think Watership Down) but at the end of the day I think it comes down to the content within the structure - hope I don't disappoint! As to the other Elves being able to hear Legolas, I assumed that Legolas would be as silent as a mouse in fluffy slippers. Cheers, Slave 1.
Part 2
The magpie was awake earlier than the others in its nest and had taken full advantage of the early morning sun to warm its feathers as it soared above the treetops. A flash of light in one of the larger trees caught its greedy eye and the bird swooped down to investigate the sparkling treasure. Only once it had woven its way through the tangled top branches of the Oak did it see that the sparkly thing already had an owner who wore it upon his smallest finger, and that the very same owner was now stretching and yawning, dappled in gold from the morning rays. The magpie realized this was one bauble it would not have, and flew off towards the river and the chance of catching juicy gnats on the air.
Legolas stifled a last yawn and sniffed the air. He could smell the remains of his brothers' camp, the strange, earthy smell of blue fire embers, the nutty smell of bannock bread baked on sticks and. murkweed. Murkweed? None of the Elves smoked a pipe and he had never smelled the pungent fumes around Scarp Hedin before, so where was it coming from? He quickly scanned the forest floor from his perch but nothing stirred save small animals and insects. He listened carefully. Just the usual sounds of the forest waking up, plus the sound of Hedin's boots against pebbles. So he was now taking them along the river. Legolas' perfect brow furrowed, his translucent skin rippling like wavelets in a puddle. The river led only to Traimon's Pass, surely Brinwier knew that.
The young Elf swung off the large branch that had doubled for a bed and nimbly leapt into the next tree and the one after that, with a grace to shame the most agile of cats.
It did not take long for Legolas to spot the Elven party. As he had thought they were indeed traversing the edge of Cor River, stepping so lightly so as to not disturb the pebbles under their feet. A shame the same could not be said for Scarp Hedin. The wiry human could hardly make more noise as he scrambled over the stones. For a tracker he was decidedly un- stealthy. It was harder for Legolas to follow the party now as the trees by the water's edge were willowy and scarce, so he had to stay further inside the forest, sticking to the larger trees and catching glimpses of his brothers through infrequent gaps in the trunks. Suddenly the stench of murkweed assaulted his nostrils once again and he froze, squatting on a large branch close to the body of the tree he was on. Now he could hear something. The deliberate and cautious tread of hunters. Small twigs softly snapping underfoot, the brush of course cloth on leaves. He turned toward the direction of the sounds and was amazed to see a hooded figure standing below him and staring up at him. The figure was short and stocky and waving its hands in Legolas' direction. How could he not have heard the approach of this creature? Legolas opened his mouth to shout a warning to his brothers but his cry was abruptly silenced as a mossy tendril forced itself between his teeth and filled the space inside his mouth. Before he could react another branch snaked out from the tree trunk and wrapped around his ankles, hoisting him high into the tree, dangling helplessly like a squirrel caught in a snare. All but two of his arrows fell from his quiver to the grassy carpet below. The pair that remained were snagged in his belt. His hands were still free and Legolas shrugged off his bow and twisted to grasp one of the arrows. He heard the reassuring click of the arrow against the shaft of his bow and drew it back, but when he craned his head around to aim at the creature he saw nothing. The wooden gag in his mouth tore at the delicate skin of his lips as he struggled to find a target but he was alone, trussed up and useless. He stretched around as far as his binds would allow and could just make out the other Elves. They had stopped in their tracks and were peering back towards him, although the way they scanned the trees suggested that they still had not seen him. Legolas tried to wave his arms but to no avail. He had to attempt to warn them. Slipping off the ice gem ring that he wore on his little finger he rammed it against the feathers of his arrow and prayed that it would not affect its flight. Then, using a reverse shot that Brinwier himself had taught Legolas, he fired the arrow towards the Elves where it clattered against a block of flint, sending up sparks and landing at Dellane's feet. Legolas watched her pick it up, then mouth his name to Brinwier. He heard Brinwier shout "Back!" and the Elves began to run back towards Legolas' tree of imprisonment. All too late Legolas realized that this was not what they should be doing and attempted to feebly sign his desire for them to return back to clear ground. However the trap, with Legolas as the bait, had worked perfectly and the band of Elves reached him in seconds, unaware of the shadows that seemed to rise up from the bushes all around them and take the forms of black-clad Dwarves.
More to come - stay tuned! - NJB
