To Agador of the Woods, the wood dweller who reads too. I thank you for
reviewing so frequently. You always have such interesting comments and they
brighten my day. Heels, heehee. Don't worry about anything. All shall be
revealed. Well all Dealing with Amaden, anyway, but I fear that I will
bring up more questions for you than I will happen to answer.
To Christine. I thank you also for reviewing my story. Your comments are all very positive and understanding and I don't feel like such a fool about the whole Theoden thing.
To Mystic Elendir of Rohan. I will try to review as frequently as possible if not for me then for you. I am glad that you enjoy this story.
And lastly to ~Me. Let me thank you for reviewing, also. I feel redundant saying thanks so often, but I enjoy doing so, anyway. What an enthusiastic reader! Wow. Did I embarrass you? Oopsie. Well, I had to say something didn't I?
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*
The tunnel under Lemnon's shop of miscellaneous trinkets was quite dreary and long. I could hardly see my own nose as I stumbled behind Amaden with Eomer painfully grasping the back of my long hair so as not to lose me in the dreary passage way that met an interminably large number of forks and intersections in what I was guessing was the sewers of Minith Tirith. I don't recall actually deciding that the sewers were going to be part of the tour, but hey I think that I can manage.
I have been in worse situations than this. Once with Faramir I had wandered into the midst of a hunting party of huge beastly-looking trolls. We were caught before we even knew about the predicament ourselves. They had left us in an unlocked shack besides a fire. I surmised that they thought us pretty weak from stature and the fact that we had barely moved when they carried us to the hut. The stillness wasn't from lack of trying though, as our captor's arms were like tree trunks so we were immobile. The only way we ended up escaping was by dressing up in cattle skins and mooing like cows. We had rather conspicuously trotted out of the shack bent over on each other and passed about twenty feet from the troll's caucus. The caucus was no doubt about how they were going to cook us. I saw this. Language is no barrier when people wave about crude axes and frying pans. They really thought that two of us were a cow! And you may ask what the moral of the story is? Trolls aren't very smart but they sure do smell bad.
Yes, this tunnel wasn't so bad. It was just extremely long. Lemnon the Shop holder decided that it was most prudent to follow us to the palace to ensure that our passage was a safe one, but the avaricious way he was rubbing his hands together told an entirely different story. He guided us through the sewers, leading us down passages and an uncountable amount of turns chatting at us merrily. It was all we could do to shut him up, and finally we got him to do so but only after he had finished pointing out the various species of vermin that inhabited the drains. I didn't really mind the talking, because the glowing yellow eyes became less than what I had imagined them, as when I knew that it was just a rat. I am ashamed, I am supposed to be the brave one in the family. I guess that we all have some phobia.
I was vastly mystified by the dark figure I was following. The enigmatic elf had opened up a world of questions to me. Magic? There is such a thing as magic? That is a thing of faerie tales. Well obviously there was a lot I needed to learn, but the elf remained silent except for to shush the shopkeeper. He seemed as if something was troubling him as he kept looking over his shoulder. Well indeed he should be worried. Those assassins were out there still. Who says that they did not follow us in? Can we really trust old Lemnon's locks where those brutes were concerned?
But something else was bothering Amaden, as he had said his name was. Amaden, the alchemist and the magician in the sumptuous deep crimson robes and the kinky brown hair that framed his unusual perky ears. This is the magician with the emerald green aura that incinerated arrows. What a formidable antagonist! I wonder what warrior could possibly stand up to him in battle. Could they so much as get a swing in at him? That is truly a dangerous power to possess. And how did he read my mind. I could feel him do it. It was not coincidence. He had said that we would speak of it later. I guess that now was not a good time.
I think that he has some things to explain. I don't think that I have ever had this much patience with anyone, but I feel that this elf is not the sort of man you should mess with. Eomer has always told me that prudence goes hand in hand with patience. It is weird that that softy of a brute and womanizer does have some semblance of intelligence. I wonder if I will ever understand anyone.
I blinked as my eyes began to readjust to the level of light in the house of Denethor. We came in through the wine cellars and surprised the sleeping guards outside the door who didn't have the faintest idea that there was infact a secret passage hidden in the wine cellar.
***
I am sorry that I cannot write any more for my dear readers at the moment. I am being kicked out of the library as the librarians which to return to the places in which they live. So weird of them! It is only 4 o'clock. I guess that I should be more considerate of people who have lives, though. They have something that I never will. Please review this short blurb.
To Christine. I thank you also for reviewing my story. Your comments are all very positive and understanding and I don't feel like such a fool about the whole Theoden thing.
To Mystic Elendir of Rohan. I will try to review as frequently as possible if not for me then for you. I am glad that you enjoy this story.
And lastly to ~Me. Let me thank you for reviewing, also. I feel redundant saying thanks so often, but I enjoy doing so, anyway. What an enthusiastic reader! Wow. Did I embarrass you? Oopsie. Well, I had to say something didn't I?
*
***
*
The tunnel under Lemnon's shop of miscellaneous trinkets was quite dreary and long. I could hardly see my own nose as I stumbled behind Amaden with Eomer painfully grasping the back of my long hair so as not to lose me in the dreary passage way that met an interminably large number of forks and intersections in what I was guessing was the sewers of Minith Tirith. I don't recall actually deciding that the sewers were going to be part of the tour, but hey I think that I can manage.
I have been in worse situations than this. Once with Faramir I had wandered into the midst of a hunting party of huge beastly-looking trolls. We were caught before we even knew about the predicament ourselves. They had left us in an unlocked shack besides a fire. I surmised that they thought us pretty weak from stature and the fact that we had barely moved when they carried us to the hut. The stillness wasn't from lack of trying though, as our captor's arms were like tree trunks so we were immobile. The only way we ended up escaping was by dressing up in cattle skins and mooing like cows. We had rather conspicuously trotted out of the shack bent over on each other and passed about twenty feet from the troll's caucus. The caucus was no doubt about how they were going to cook us. I saw this. Language is no barrier when people wave about crude axes and frying pans. They really thought that two of us were a cow! And you may ask what the moral of the story is? Trolls aren't very smart but they sure do smell bad.
Yes, this tunnel wasn't so bad. It was just extremely long. Lemnon the Shop holder decided that it was most prudent to follow us to the palace to ensure that our passage was a safe one, but the avaricious way he was rubbing his hands together told an entirely different story. He guided us through the sewers, leading us down passages and an uncountable amount of turns chatting at us merrily. It was all we could do to shut him up, and finally we got him to do so but only after he had finished pointing out the various species of vermin that inhabited the drains. I didn't really mind the talking, because the glowing yellow eyes became less than what I had imagined them, as when I knew that it was just a rat. I am ashamed, I am supposed to be the brave one in the family. I guess that we all have some phobia.
I was vastly mystified by the dark figure I was following. The enigmatic elf had opened up a world of questions to me. Magic? There is such a thing as magic? That is a thing of faerie tales. Well obviously there was a lot I needed to learn, but the elf remained silent except for to shush the shopkeeper. He seemed as if something was troubling him as he kept looking over his shoulder. Well indeed he should be worried. Those assassins were out there still. Who says that they did not follow us in? Can we really trust old Lemnon's locks where those brutes were concerned?
But something else was bothering Amaden, as he had said his name was. Amaden, the alchemist and the magician in the sumptuous deep crimson robes and the kinky brown hair that framed his unusual perky ears. This is the magician with the emerald green aura that incinerated arrows. What a formidable antagonist! I wonder what warrior could possibly stand up to him in battle. Could they so much as get a swing in at him? That is truly a dangerous power to possess. And how did he read my mind. I could feel him do it. It was not coincidence. He had said that we would speak of it later. I guess that now was not a good time.
I think that he has some things to explain. I don't think that I have ever had this much patience with anyone, but I feel that this elf is not the sort of man you should mess with. Eomer has always told me that prudence goes hand in hand with patience. It is weird that that softy of a brute and womanizer does have some semblance of intelligence. I wonder if I will ever understand anyone.
I blinked as my eyes began to readjust to the level of light in the house of Denethor. We came in through the wine cellars and surprised the sleeping guards outside the door who didn't have the faintest idea that there was infact a secret passage hidden in the wine cellar.
***
I am sorry that I cannot write any more for my dear readers at the moment. I am being kicked out of the library as the librarians which to return to the places in which they live. So weird of them! It is only 4 o'clock. I guess that I should be more considerate of people who have lives, though. They have something that I never will. Please review this short blurb.
