Ch1. A foul stench from Mirkwood.
The morning was threatening as the first column reached the outer regions of Mirkwood dark and misty as it is. Elendur
and Ciryon where riding along side their father, a bit worried about his decision of not crossing the river. Mirkwood's branches
hang over the mud-filled path in sign of warning, for deeply dark it was and nothing beyond the first line of trees could be seen.
Isildur's guard was formed of only a few swordsmen and about to 28 knights, what would soon come would be 10 times more overwhelming,
but thru these few warriors' veins flowed the blood of Numenor, all but enough Isildur would have said.
Elendur came closer to his father...
"Father slowen pace for a moment!" screamed Elendur thriving to get his horse across a patch of mud.
"Well, hurry up now..." Isildur said halting the advance.
After the advance resumed and Elendur got free he returned to his father's side...
"What troubles you? You look deeply burdened." said Elendur.
"Nothing, nothing it's the weather I suppose." answered Isildur avoiding Elendur's watchful eyes.
"Do not take me for a fool father, there is something wrong... it is as you where in pain."
"NOTHING." replied Isildur with an unusual grin on his fair face.
By that time, Isildur decided that the river is shallow enough to cross; for this to happen they had to go down a hill crowned by very high trees.
The hill had only a few meters in length so Isildur closen the lines, unaware of the foul doings of orcs in the Gladden area. Years ago the *Necromant
ordered the passage between the Misty Mountains and Mirwood be blocked, and so thousands of goblins and orcs came a ravaging the area not until
the "defeat" of the Dark Lord the passage to be reopened by Beorn's kin. So Isildur marched on with his armor shining in the eyes of those that sat in the shadow.
Near to the river's bank the scouts reported in and held a discussion with Isildur that the river might be watched.
A tall man dressed from head to toes in chain mail spoke...
"Sire, the river passage is an exact setting for an ambush, though there is no one to ambush... We'd best try the passage of Carrock."
"NO. This is the best passage, it's the ONLY way, and as the only way we shall cross it." said Isildur pointing to the mist engulfed passage.
At that grim moment at the back of the grey column someone shouted:
"RUN!" cried the rearguard.
Horses turned men fell, wargriders now had flown thru the mist braking everything in their path.
"SPEARS, SPEARS!!!" shouted Isildur.
By now from 28 knights there where only 11, but the shock attack was repelled. Those that remained formed a straight line formation with spears pointing towards
the tree crowned hill. Drums, orc drums where heard in depths of Mirkwood.
"Halt. Men at front knights on the right and left flank." said Isildur showing directions.
The morning had now passed away, a deep dark shadow passed overhead something that Elendur thought he would not come out off only by death. And right he was
as you shall soon find out...
Elendur looked towards his father, he now stood in the last patch of dying sunlight, he's crown shining like the sunset.
"There is now way out, the Dark Lord has reached his will." Elendur said to himself.
He then called Aartan and Ciryon to his side. Grabbing their young shoulders he looked to each one--despair was in their hearts, and ethical it was. For long he had feared
that his father carries the jewel of the Dark lord, he dared not think of it. He had made a decision there amidst all of the tension. He then spoke to his brethren...
"Brothers, we have but one chance, our father carries the burden of years, he has what the Dark Lord wants... it is without chance that we try to flee, and not even if we
had the chance would I do it." said Elendur with his eyes fixed on Aratan and Ciryon.
The morning was threatening as the first column reached the outer regions of Mirkwood dark and misty as it is. Elendur
and Ciryon where riding along side their father, a bit worried about his decision of not crossing the river. Mirkwood's branches
hang over the mud-filled path in sign of warning, for deeply dark it was and nothing beyond the first line of trees could be seen.
Isildur's guard was formed of only a few swordsmen and about to 28 knights, what would soon come would be 10 times more overwhelming,
but thru these few warriors' veins flowed the blood of Numenor, all but enough Isildur would have said.
Elendur came closer to his father...
"Father slowen pace for a moment!" screamed Elendur thriving to get his horse across a patch of mud.
"Well, hurry up now..." Isildur said halting the advance.
After the advance resumed and Elendur got free he returned to his father's side...
"What troubles you? You look deeply burdened." said Elendur.
"Nothing, nothing it's the weather I suppose." answered Isildur avoiding Elendur's watchful eyes.
"Do not take me for a fool father, there is something wrong... it is as you where in pain."
"NOTHING." replied Isildur with an unusual grin on his fair face.
By that time, Isildur decided that the river is shallow enough to cross; for this to happen they had to go down a hill crowned by very high trees.
The hill had only a few meters in length so Isildur closen the lines, unaware of the foul doings of orcs in the Gladden area. Years ago the *Necromant
ordered the passage between the Misty Mountains and Mirwood be blocked, and so thousands of goblins and orcs came a ravaging the area not until
the "defeat" of the Dark Lord the passage to be reopened by Beorn's kin. So Isildur marched on with his armor shining in the eyes of those that sat in the shadow.
Near to the river's bank the scouts reported in and held a discussion with Isildur that the river might be watched.
A tall man dressed from head to toes in chain mail spoke...
"Sire, the river passage is an exact setting for an ambush, though there is no one to ambush... We'd best try the passage of Carrock."
"NO. This is the best passage, it's the ONLY way, and as the only way we shall cross it." said Isildur pointing to the mist engulfed passage.
At that grim moment at the back of the grey column someone shouted:
"RUN!" cried the rearguard.
Horses turned men fell, wargriders now had flown thru the mist braking everything in their path.
"SPEARS, SPEARS!!!" shouted Isildur.
By now from 28 knights there where only 11, but the shock attack was repelled. Those that remained formed a straight line formation with spears pointing towards
the tree crowned hill. Drums, orc drums where heard in depths of Mirkwood.
"Halt. Men at front knights on the right and left flank." said Isildur showing directions.
The morning had now passed away, a deep dark shadow passed overhead something that Elendur thought he would not come out off only by death. And right he was
as you shall soon find out...
Elendur looked towards his father, he now stood in the last patch of dying sunlight, he's crown shining like the sunset.
"There is now way out, the Dark Lord has reached his will." Elendur said to himself.
He then called Aartan and Ciryon to his side. Grabbing their young shoulders he looked to each one--despair was in their hearts, and ethical it was. For long he had feared
that his father carries the jewel of the Dark lord, he dared not think of it. He had made a decision there amidst all of the tension. He then spoke to his brethren...
"Brothers, we have but one chance, our father carries the burden of years, he has what the Dark Lord wants... it is without chance that we try to flee, and not even if we
had the chance would I do it." said Elendur with his eyes fixed on Aratan and Ciryon.