Well, I thought I'd write another chapter before I am dragged, kicking and
screaming back to school. I failed in that respect, as I am back at school
already. Damn school. I am a little under-stimulated because of the brain-
draining affect school has on one's mind. This may take some time to get
going: my brain keeps crashing, something about an overload, so I have to
keep restarting it, then files get corrupted, especially creativity files.
And thank you to Jane for the horse's name.
Chapter 11:
The hours passed over the company as they rode to Edoras. The wind stirred Mary-Jane's hair, and she felt the unusual freedom that she could only find while on Lindin. Hasufel, Arod and Shadowfax were still galloping ahead of her. Their horses were tiring, but they proudly followed their tireless leader across the plains. The dusk gathered with the hours and soon became night. They rested for a few hours, but that was all Gandalf would allow them. Then they rode on again under the light of the moon. Mary-Jane followed blindly.
The thought of going to Edoras comforted her. She had been in the company of these strange characters for many days without relief, and with little sleep, and her patience was wearing thin. However, she didn't know what to expect of this city, the riders they had met on their journey seemed very touchy and ready to turn on a stranger with swords blazing. It made her stomach churn with anxiety.
Dawn came clear and bright, and a wind swept past them, lending a chill to the air. Shadowfax halted and neighed. Before them stood mighty peaks, tipped with snow. A stream issued from the snows, and caught the morning sun, making it shine with silver. Mary-Jane gasped, she had seen this sight before. The realization surfaced as if reminding her of a distant dream, a glimpse of memory, then it was gone.
'Speak Legolas!' said Gandalf, 'what can you see?'
'There is a white stream that comes down from the snows,' he said, shading his eyes from the morning sun with a long hand. 'A green hill rises upon the east. A dike and mighty wall and a fence of thorns encircle it. Within the great walls rise houses, and in the midst there stands a great hall of Men. It seems to be thatched with gold. The light of it shines upon the surrounding land, the posts of its doors and golden also. There stand men in bright mail, but for them all the court is asleep.'
'Well, now that we know the colour scheme and what they wear, shall we ride to this golden hall with golden poles, set upon the green hill next to the white stream with men in bright mail guarding it?' Mary-Jane hadn't realised how tired she was. She was very tired, and hence, very irritable. She was also very confused about her feelings, and the memory that resurfaced before. She just wanted to go to this golden hall, eat some real food, and sleep in a real bed.
'Those courts are Edoras,' said Gandalf. 'Meduseld is that golden hall. There lives Théoden son of Thengel, King of the Mark of Rohan.'
Mary-Jane felt as if a thorn had stabbed her mind at the mention of Meduseld. She felt as she had when she had first seen Edoras, but more acutely. The memory resurfaced and reminded her painfully of something she did not understand, of days past.
'Our road lies before us clearly now,' continued Gandalf. 'We must ride warily now. War is upon Rohan, and the Rohirrim do not sleep, even if they appear to from afar. Draw no weapon, speak no haughty word, I counsel you,' Gandalf looked at Mary-Jane meaningfully, and then at Gimli, 'until we come to Théoden's seat.' With that they rode on.
At the foot of the green, walled hill they came to mounds on either side of the road. Upon the mounds were white flowers.
'Behold,' said Gandalf, 'we come upon the barrows where the sires of Théoden sleep!'
'Seven mounds upon the left, and nine upon the right,' said Aragorn. 'Many lives of Men has it been since the Golden Hall was built.'
'Five hundred times have the red leaves fallen in Mirkwood in my home since then,' said Legolas. 'Only a short while does it seem to us.'
Mary-Jane was getting the impression that these 'elves' lived for a long time, a very long time.
With that the travelers continued up the hills. Mary-Jane looked from side to side at the mounds reverently, somehow knowing the importance and weight of the barrows.
They came to the gates of Edoras. Many men all in bright mail were there, and on seeing the travelers sprang to their feet and barred their way with spears.
'Stay strangers here unknown!' they cried in the tongue of the Riddermark. They looked at Gandalf darkly, and at Mary-Jane wonderingly.
Mary-Jane did not know the language that they spoke, but still she understood them. It was as if her heart was translating their words, from an old memory long forgotten to her conscious mind. It was a language she had known in distant dreams, dreams almost forgotten.
'Well do I understand your speech,' said Gandalf in the same language, again Mary-Jane understood. 'But few strangers do, why do you not speak in the Common Tongue, as is the custom in the West, if you wish to be answered?'
Mary-Jane tried to conceal the smirk that was looming on her face.
'It is the will of Théoden King that only friends who know our speech are permitted to enter through the gates,' replied a guard, looking darkly at Mary-Jane. 'None are welcome here in such times, except from Mundburg or from Gondor. Who do you think you are, clad in this strange fashion, and riding horses like to ours? We have watched you from afar, never have we seen any riders so, ah, strange. Who are you? Are you wizards, or some spy from Saruman, or some phantom of his craft?'
'We are no phantoms!' Said Aragorn indignantly. 'These are indeed your own horses, they were lent to us by Éomer, the third Marshal of the Mark. We promised to bring them back, as we are doing today. Here is Arod, Hasufel and Lindin. Has Éomer not returned and told you of our coming?'
'No,' the guard replied bluntly. 'Wormtongue came but two nights ago and told us that it was the will of Théoden that no stranger should pass through the gates.'
'My errand is with the King of the Mark, and I am in haste. Will you not go and tell of our arrival, or will you not send someone?' Gandalf said, eyes blazing.
'Yes, I will go, but what names and purpose am I to give the King?'
'I am Gandalf, and behold! I ride Shadowfax, whom I bring back. Beside me is Aragorn son of Arathorn son of Kings, Legolas the Elf, and Gimli the Dwarf. A girl is also with us, whom Théoden may wish to meet, as I beleive he will find the meeting most intriguing.'
He looked suspiciously at Mary-Jane, but resigned to being satisfied with the answer said, 'I will go. Wait here, but do not hope too much, these are strange and dark days.'
With that the guard went through the gates. After a while he came back.
'Strange indeed are the days we are witnessing!' the guard said. 'Théoden gives you leave to enter, but any weapon you must give to the door wardens, before you enter his hall. The girl is not to enter the hall unless information is given regarding her identity and her errand.'
The gates were opened and, satisfied, they followed the guard. Mary-Jane was little troubled by the thought of not being allowed to enter the hall of the King. But it was fair enough that they be suspicious of all travellers, in these 'dark days'.
'So much for not speaking haughty words,' she muttered to Gandalf, now unrestrainedly smiling.
'I counseled you not to speak in such ways,' he said slyly. 'I did not mention how I would myself behave. I did not know you knew the tongue of Rohan.'
'I did not know myself,' she answered quietly.
Gandalf stole a glance at her. She got the impression that he knew more about herself and her ties with this land than she did.
'Before you are the doors of the hall,' their guide said. 'I must return to my duty at the gate. Farewell!'
He stepped quickly down the path, while the travelers climbed up the stair to the hall, under the eyes of the watchmen. No voice spoke as they climbed, but as they reached the terrace the watchmen greeted them in their own tongue.
'Hail comers from afar!' they said, turning the hilts of their swords towards them in a gesture of peace.
Then a man stood forward and spoke to them in the Common Tongue.
'I am the doorward of Théoden,' he said. 'I must bid you lay aside your weapons before you enter. The girl in your company must not enter before telling her name and errand.'
Legolas gave him his knife, his quiver of arrows and his bow. 'Keep these well. They are a gift from the Lady Galdriel of the Golden Wood.'
Wonder came into the doorward's eyes, and he hastily put the weapons beside the wall, as if he was afraid to touch them. Mary-Jane smiled, amused by the suspicions and superstitions these people held against the unknown.
Aragorn stood back, unwilling to part with his sword. 'It is not my will to put aside my sword, or put it in the hands of another man.' He said protectively.
'It is the will of Théoden,' the doorward answered bluntly.
'I do not think,' said Aragorn, 'that the will of Théoden son of Thengel should prevail over Aragorn son of Arathorn.'
'You are in the house of Théoden, not of Aragorn, and the King shall have his own way in his own house. I promise that no man shall touch it. If that is not enough for you, Aragorn son of Arathorn, perhaps you should like to leave it outside with your companion, as she is not permitted to enter the hall.'
Aragorn looked at Mary-Jane doubtfully.
'I would do as the master of any house bade me, if it were any sword but Andúril.' Said Aragorn, speaking of his sword as if it were his favorite pet.
'Whatever it's name, you must leave it here, if you would not fight alone against all the men in Edoras.'
'Not alone,' said Gimmli gruffly, running his thumb across his axe. Then in case the doorward was slow on the uptake he said again: 'not alone.'
Gandalf was getting frustrated at the childish turn the conversation had made. 'Come,' he said, 'we are all friends here, or at least should be. Here is my sword, keep it well.'
Slowly Aragorn placed his sword against the wall. Gimli set down his axe next to it.
'Your staff also must be left here,' the doorward said.
'Foolishness!' Gandalf's eyes flared. 'It is one thing to be prudent, but quite another to be discourteous. Will you not let an old man rest upon his staff?'
'A staff in the hand of a wizard is powerful,' said the doorward. He looked hard at the wizard and the staff that he leaned on. 'I believe you are friends who have no evil purpose, you shall go in.'
With that they entered. Mary-Jane watched as they walked through the open doors. The doors shut behind her companions. She looked around and saw the watchmen watching her grimly. She sat down on the steps, looking out at Rohan, across the wide plains towards Fangorn, though the horizon hid the dark tangle of trees from veiw. Then she looked towards the Gap of Rohan, towards Orthanc where Saruman resided. A heavy blanket-like cloud hung above Isengard, lending it a sinister and evil appearance. She felt increasingly uncomfortable with the watchmen watching her every move. Their eyes bore into her, watching her as she looked about and wondered.
The wait seemed like hours as she sat there under close watch. She tried to organise her thoughts, tried to make sense of it all. It was exhausting. The jumbled mess of her mind hid many things she did not know of. She wondered how the thoughts got there. She wondered most about how she knew the tongue of the Riddermark, languages had never been her natural talent, so how could she just suddenly understand what these people were saying? And why did she feel she had seen the Golden Hall before? It was all too confusing, she was already tired, and this was not helping. At best her attempts to organise her thoughts were merely confusing the issue further.
She took to roving the plains of Rohan with her eyes again. Her mind wandered. She wondered what the watchmen would do if she just got up and left, or if she got up and challenged the doors of the Golden Hall. They stood so still, perhaps their only purpose was to stand there, looking menacing, and silently forbidding anyone to do anything they weren't supposed to. She smiled to herself. She felt her legs getting stiff, so she stood up, wondering if her movement would cause the watchmen to spring to life, drawing weapons, ready to attack. The watchmen failed to spring upon her, weapons ready, they continued to stand and watch. She walked up and down the terrace, feeling the cold breeze upon her cheeks.
The door opened, and out came an old man, withered by age, but a new energy had just been found in his soul, a new meaning to his life. Mary-Jane observed this in him, and wondered how she could see so much of what was going on inside this old man. He was carrying a sword which blazed proudly in the sun, newly awoken from a long sleep. Following him came Gandalf, his rags thrown off, in resplendent white. Aragorn followed, looking proud, then Legolas and Gimli. Legolas looked upon the King with kindness in his eyes, his blonde hair gleaming in the light of the day. With the King was a fair girl, a tad older than Mary-Jane, or so she reckoned. She helped the King, and looked upon him in great joy, but also worry. She had fair hair, as did the rest of her kind, she was dressed elegantly but not extravagantly. She had a longing for adventure, Mary-Jane could read it in her eyes and her impatient gestures. She watched as they expelled a repulsive man from the hall. The man's gaze sent a chill through her body as he looked at her in wonder. She felt wounded as she sank into the shadows of the building, wishing to see, but not be seen.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The end. I feel very tempted to just kill Mary-Jane off here and now. She can fall down the steps of Edoras and break her neck. How's that for a swift, clean ending? A bullet in the head normally does the job. No, I don't think I can kill her. I can't really find it in me. Besides, I am having too much fun thinking of all the things Mary-Jane and Éowyn can do to each other. grins maliciously.
I think I'll send them all to Helm's Deep, the women and children to the caves, like they did in the movie, I need Mary-Jane to be there when they go to Isengard. I don't know how else I'm going to get her there, unless she follows Wormtongue. Or does something equally stupid. But why would she do that? I mean apart from all the obvious reasons, being that she is stupid, irrational, and needs to install a logic centre in her head. I can't send her off to Helm's Deep with just all the men, that would be silly and improbable. And I think I want her with Éowyn during the battle, just to slow things down a bit. I know it sounds like I've already made up my mind, who knows? I might have I don't even know if I've made up my mind about it, but tell me what you think.
And thank you to Jane for the horse's name.
Chapter 11:
The hours passed over the company as they rode to Edoras. The wind stirred Mary-Jane's hair, and she felt the unusual freedom that she could only find while on Lindin. Hasufel, Arod and Shadowfax were still galloping ahead of her. Their horses were tiring, but they proudly followed their tireless leader across the plains. The dusk gathered with the hours and soon became night. They rested for a few hours, but that was all Gandalf would allow them. Then they rode on again under the light of the moon. Mary-Jane followed blindly.
The thought of going to Edoras comforted her. She had been in the company of these strange characters for many days without relief, and with little sleep, and her patience was wearing thin. However, she didn't know what to expect of this city, the riders they had met on their journey seemed very touchy and ready to turn on a stranger with swords blazing. It made her stomach churn with anxiety.
Dawn came clear and bright, and a wind swept past them, lending a chill to the air. Shadowfax halted and neighed. Before them stood mighty peaks, tipped with snow. A stream issued from the snows, and caught the morning sun, making it shine with silver. Mary-Jane gasped, she had seen this sight before. The realization surfaced as if reminding her of a distant dream, a glimpse of memory, then it was gone.
'Speak Legolas!' said Gandalf, 'what can you see?'
'There is a white stream that comes down from the snows,' he said, shading his eyes from the morning sun with a long hand. 'A green hill rises upon the east. A dike and mighty wall and a fence of thorns encircle it. Within the great walls rise houses, and in the midst there stands a great hall of Men. It seems to be thatched with gold. The light of it shines upon the surrounding land, the posts of its doors and golden also. There stand men in bright mail, but for them all the court is asleep.'
'Well, now that we know the colour scheme and what they wear, shall we ride to this golden hall with golden poles, set upon the green hill next to the white stream with men in bright mail guarding it?' Mary-Jane hadn't realised how tired she was. She was very tired, and hence, very irritable. She was also very confused about her feelings, and the memory that resurfaced before. She just wanted to go to this golden hall, eat some real food, and sleep in a real bed.
'Those courts are Edoras,' said Gandalf. 'Meduseld is that golden hall. There lives Théoden son of Thengel, King of the Mark of Rohan.'
Mary-Jane felt as if a thorn had stabbed her mind at the mention of Meduseld. She felt as she had when she had first seen Edoras, but more acutely. The memory resurfaced and reminded her painfully of something she did not understand, of days past.
'Our road lies before us clearly now,' continued Gandalf. 'We must ride warily now. War is upon Rohan, and the Rohirrim do not sleep, even if they appear to from afar. Draw no weapon, speak no haughty word, I counsel you,' Gandalf looked at Mary-Jane meaningfully, and then at Gimli, 'until we come to Théoden's seat.' With that they rode on.
At the foot of the green, walled hill they came to mounds on either side of the road. Upon the mounds were white flowers.
'Behold,' said Gandalf, 'we come upon the barrows where the sires of Théoden sleep!'
'Seven mounds upon the left, and nine upon the right,' said Aragorn. 'Many lives of Men has it been since the Golden Hall was built.'
'Five hundred times have the red leaves fallen in Mirkwood in my home since then,' said Legolas. 'Only a short while does it seem to us.'
Mary-Jane was getting the impression that these 'elves' lived for a long time, a very long time.
With that the travelers continued up the hills. Mary-Jane looked from side to side at the mounds reverently, somehow knowing the importance and weight of the barrows.
They came to the gates of Edoras. Many men all in bright mail were there, and on seeing the travelers sprang to their feet and barred their way with spears.
'Stay strangers here unknown!' they cried in the tongue of the Riddermark. They looked at Gandalf darkly, and at Mary-Jane wonderingly.
Mary-Jane did not know the language that they spoke, but still she understood them. It was as if her heart was translating their words, from an old memory long forgotten to her conscious mind. It was a language she had known in distant dreams, dreams almost forgotten.
'Well do I understand your speech,' said Gandalf in the same language, again Mary-Jane understood. 'But few strangers do, why do you not speak in the Common Tongue, as is the custom in the West, if you wish to be answered?'
Mary-Jane tried to conceal the smirk that was looming on her face.
'It is the will of Théoden King that only friends who know our speech are permitted to enter through the gates,' replied a guard, looking darkly at Mary-Jane. 'None are welcome here in such times, except from Mundburg or from Gondor. Who do you think you are, clad in this strange fashion, and riding horses like to ours? We have watched you from afar, never have we seen any riders so, ah, strange. Who are you? Are you wizards, or some spy from Saruman, or some phantom of his craft?'
'We are no phantoms!' Said Aragorn indignantly. 'These are indeed your own horses, they were lent to us by Éomer, the third Marshal of the Mark. We promised to bring them back, as we are doing today. Here is Arod, Hasufel and Lindin. Has Éomer not returned and told you of our coming?'
'No,' the guard replied bluntly. 'Wormtongue came but two nights ago and told us that it was the will of Théoden that no stranger should pass through the gates.'
'My errand is with the King of the Mark, and I am in haste. Will you not go and tell of our arrival, or will you not send someone?' Gandalf said, eyes blazing.
'Yes, I will go, but what names and purpose am I to give the King?'
'I am Gandalf, and behold! I ride Shadowfax, whom I bring back. Beside me is Aragorn son of Arathorn son of Kings, Legolas the Elf, and Gimli the Dwarf. A girl is also with us, whom Théoden may wish to meet, as I beleive he will find the meeting most intriguing.'
He looked suspiciously at Mary-Jane, but resigned to being satisfied with the answer said, 'I will go. Wait here, but do not hope too much, these are strange and dark days.'
With that the guard went through the gates. After a while he came back.
'Strange indeed are the days we are witnessing!' the guard said. 'Théoden gives you leave to enter, but any weapon you must give to the door wardens, before you enter his hall. The girl is not to enter the hall unless information is given regarding her identity and her errand.'
The gates were opened and, satisfied, they followed the guard. Mary-Jane was little troubled by the thought of not being allowed to enter the hall of the King. But it was fair enough that they be suspicious of all travellers, in these 'dark days'.
'So much for not speaking haughty words,' she muttered to Gandalf, now unrestrainedly smiling.
'I counseled you not to speak in such ways,' he said slyly. 'I did not mention how I would myself behave. I did not know you knew the tongue of Rohan.'
'I did not know myself,' she answered quietly.
Gandalf stole a glance at her. She got the impression that he knew more about herself and her ties with this land than she did.
'Before you are the doors of the hall,' their guide said. 'I must return to my duty at the gate. Farewell!'
He stepped quickly down the path, while the travelers climbed up the stair to the hall, under the eyes of the watchmen. No voice spoke as they climbed, but as they reached the terrace the watchmen greeted them in their own tongue.
'Hail comers from afar!' they said, turning the hilts of their swords towards them in a gesture of peace.
Then a man stood forward and spoke to them in the Common Tongue.
'I am the doorward of Théoden,' he said. 'I must bid you lay aside your weapons before you enter. The girl in your company must not enter before telling her name and errand.'
Legolas gave him his knife, his quiver of arrows and his bow. 'Keep these well. They are a gift from the Lady Galdriel of the Golden Wood.'
Wonder came into the doorward's eyes, and he hastily put the weapons beside the wall, as if he was afraid to touch them. Mary-Jane smiled, amused by the suspicions and superstitions these people held against the unknown.
Aragorn stood back, unwilling to part with his sword. 'It is not my will to put aside my sword, or put it in the hands of another man.' He said protectively.
'It is the will of Théoden,' the doorward answered bluntly.
'I do not think,' said Aragorn, 'that the will of Théoden son of Thengel should prevail over Aragorn son of Arathorn.'
'You are in the house of Théoden, not of Aragorn, and the King shall have his own way in his own house. I promise that no man shall touch it. If that is not enough for you, Aragorn son of Arathorn, perhaps you should like to leave it outside with your companion, as she is not permitted to enter the hall.'
Aragorn looked at Mary-Jane doubtfully.
'I would do as the master of any house bade me, if it were any sword but Andúril.' Said Aragorn, speaking of his sword as if it were his favorite pet.
'Whatever it's name, you must leave it here, if you would not fight alone against all the men in Edoras.'
'Not alone,' said Gimmli gruffly, running his thumb across his axe. Then in case the doorward was slow on the uptake he said again: 'not alone.'
Gandalf was getting frustrated at the childish turn the conversation had made. 'Come,' he said, 'we are all friends here, or at least should be. Here is my sword, keep it well.'
Slowly Aragorn placed his sword against the wall. Gimli set down his axe next to it.
'Your staff also must be left here,' the doorward said.
'Foolishness!' Gandalf's eyes flared. 'It is one thing to be prudent, but quite another to be discourteous. Will you not let an old man rest upon his staff?'
'A staff in the hand of a wizard is powerful,' said the doorward. He looked hard at the wizard and the staff that he leaned on. 'I believe you are friends who have no evil purpose, you shall go in.'
With that they entered. Mary-Jane watched as they walked through the open doors. The doors shut behind her companions. She looked around and saw the watchmen watching her grimly. She sat down on the steps, looking out at Rohan, across the wide plains towards Fangorn, though the horizon hid the dark tangle of trees from veiw. Then she looked towards the Gap of Rohan, towards Orthanc where Saruman resided. A heavy blanket-like cloud hung above Isengard, lending it a sinister and evil appearance. She felt increasingly uncomfortable with the watchmen watching her every move. Their eyes bore into her, watching her as she looked about and wondered.
The wait seemed like hours as she sat there under close watch. She tried to organise her thoughts, tried to make sense of it all. It was exhausting. The jumbled mess of her mind hid many things she did not know of. She wondered how the thoughts got there. She wondered most about how she knew the tongue of the Riddermark, languages had never been her natural talent, so how could she just suddenly understand what these people were saying? And why did she feel she had seen the Golden Hall before? It was all too confusing, she was already tired, and this was not helping. At best her attempts to organise her thoughts were merely confusing the issue further.
She took to roving the plains of Rohan with her eyes again. Her mind wandered. She wondered what the watchmen would do if she just got up and left, or if she got up and challenged the doors of the Golden Hall. They stood so still, perhaps their only purpose was to stand there, looking menacing, and silently forbidding anyone to do anything they weren't supposed to. She smiled to herself. She felt her legs getting stiff, so she stood up, wondering if her movement would cause the watchmen to spring to life, drawing weapons, ready to attack. The watchmen failed to spring upon her, weapons ready, they continued to stand and watch. She walked up and down the terrace, feeling the cold breeze upon her cheeks.
The door opened, and out came an old man, withered by age, but a new energy had just been found in his soul, a new meaning to his life. Mary-Jane observed this in him, and wondered how she could see so much of what was going on inside this old man. He was carrying a sword which blazed proudly in the sun, newly awoken from a long sleep. Following him came Gandalf, his rags thrown off, in resplendent white. Aragorn followed, looking proud, then Legolas and Gimli. Legolas looked upon the King with kindness in his eyes, his blonde hair gleaming in the light of the day. With the King was a fair girl, a tad older than Mary-Jane, or so she reckoned. She helped the King, and looked upon him in great joy, but also worry. She had fair hair, as did the rest of her kind, she was dressed elegantly but not extravagantly. She had a longing for adventure, Mary-Jane could read it in her eyes and her impatient gestures. She watched as they expelled a repulsive man from the hall. The man's gaze sent a chill through her body as he looked at her in wonder. She felt wounded as she sank into the shadows of the building, wishing to see, but not be seen.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The end. I feel very tempted to just kill Mary-Jane off here and now. She can fall down the steps of Edoras and break her neck. How's that for a swift, clean ending? A bullet in the head normally does the job. No, I don't think I can kill her. I can't really find it in me. Besides, I am having too much fun thinking of all the things Mary-Jane and Éowyn can do to each other. grins maliciously.
I think I'll send them all to Helm's Deep, the women and children to the caves, like they did in the movie, I need Mary-Jane to be there when they go to Isengard. I don't know how else I'm going to get her there, unless she follows Wormtongue. Or does something equally stupid. But why would she do that? I mean apart from all the obvious reasons, being that she is stupid, irrational, and needs to install a logic centre in her head. I can't send her off to Helm's Deep with just all the men, that would be silly and improbable. And I think I want her with Éowyn during the battle, just to slow things down a bit. I know it sounds like I've already made up my mind, who knows? I might have I don't even know if I've made up my mind about it, but tell me what you think.