http://www.avidgamers.com/beforefotr …there's not much more to say…

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Chapter Seven: Not so Easy

With a movement of Gandalf's staff, a great flash of light and a loud cracking sound pierced the darkness of the forest for a moment; Herefara was knocked to the ground, blinded from the flash.

Gandalf turned to the elf, whose eyes he knew would have been able to withstand the flash, and saw him advancing toward Roscoe. "Quickly!" the wizard shouted to the hobbit, "come this way!"

Herefara gasped and threw an arm over his eyes as the light from the wizard's staff flared across the clearing. He soon found himself on the ground and quite unable to see anything. His eyes refused to focus and he was forced to remain on the ground, slowly feeling around for the rope that had slipped out of his hands.

Ivy let out a startled yell as Herefara grabbed her, but got to her feet as quickly as she could after the flash of light. Hearing Gandalf's call, she hesitated. Was she meant to follow them as well, or did the wizard have some kind of plan in his mind? Taking her best guess, Ivy ran in the direction she had heard him call from, hoping once again that luck might be on their side.

Roscoe wasted no time; he lunged as quickly as he could to the left, closer to Gandalf. That move saved his life for sure! Yet though he was able to escape Hebrilith's blade, he was knocked on his back by the elf's horse. Roscoe sat up quickly, trying to catch his breath -- and realized that his sword had been knocked to the ground as well! Roscoe jumped to his feet and looked for his sword.

Gandalf took advantage of the time it would take the elf to wheel his steed around and lunged ahead, putting himself in between the elf and the hobbits. "You always have loved to go for the powerless first, you traitorous coward! Let the halflings be!"

Roscoe (thankful for the distraction of Gandalf) found his sword and lunged to pick it up -- almost running into Ivy!

"Ivy!!" he cried, embracing her joyfully. "I'm so glad to see you! I want to hear all about your adventure, but now's not the time. Let's get you out of this..." Roscoe then proceeded to cut Ivy's bonds about her hands, keeping an eye on the murderer in case he should somehow gain back his sight or attack them.

Ivy nodded, rubbing her wrists and fingers to work the feeling back into them. Somehow she felt that she should be much happier to have been rescued, or at least asking a plethora of questions...but she didn't feel like any of it at the moment. Standing somewhat stupidly beside Roscoe, she watched Gandalf and Hebrilith.

Hebrilith's eyes blazed at the sight of the wizard before him, blocking him from his prey. His horse reared and the elf sheathed his sword. As the animal landed he drew his bow and an arrow, nocked it, and let it loose faster than the eye could follow. It whistled through the air straight at the wizard. Hebrilith sincerely didn't expect it to kill, but he knew it would at least buy him some time.

Taking the sword scabbard from his horse's saddle and throwing the strap over his head and one shoulder, Hebrilith leapt off of his steed's back into the branches of a nearby tree and glided along one that stretched far out over the hobbits. He drew his sword and leapt from the branch...

The elf fell almost directly on top of Roscoe, who was knocked over. He managed to keep his sword this time, though, and quickly stood before his opponent.

Roscoe was blinded with rage at this elf. Deep down he knew he was no match for the creature, but something within him snapped at that moment; all of the unfortunate things that have happened in the last evening -- Ivy's kidnapping, the exhaustive chase, no food, no rest, still quite an immense headache, this wretched fight -- they all came to a head. Roscoe gripped his sword and yelled at the elf: "Leave us alone you devil! Perhaps I'm not so helpless as I appear!!" With that, Roscoe charged the elf, sword in the air.

Gandalf easily deflected the arrow and followed the elf with his eyes. Guessing his purpose, Gandalf got ready to act; however, Roscoe's outburst surprised him, and he thought fast. "This might be just the distraction I need," Gandalf thought to himself, ready to intervene at a moment's notice.

The elf could hardly keep from laughing at the hobbit's attempts to thwart him. However, it had been many many years since the sound of laughter had passed his lips and all expression left his face.

He spun and easily knocked the halfling's sword away with his own and caught Roscoe in the chest with a booted foot.

Dark figures were soon discernable to him and Herefara began crawling over the ground, recovered sword in hand, eyes locked on what he was sure was the silhouette of the hobbit who had escaped his grasp twice already. He told himself that wouldn't let it happen again...

Within a few feet of Ivy, he leapt up (now able to see a bit better) and wrapped an arm firmly around her throat.

Ivy was about to spring forward (she didn't know exactly what would be accomplished from that, but attacking the Elf seemed like a good idea at the time to her), when she was grabbed from behind by Herefera. She could do no more than force out a tiny squeak, eyes bulging as her throat was constricted by the Big Person's arm. Her hands flew to her throat, trying to loosen his grasp. An awful pressure started in her chest, but she could not draw in breath to relieve it.

Satisfied that he had a good grip on her, Herefara held his sword to her throat...

Gandalf saw his chance. Reciting an incantation that caused the tip of his staff to glow a reddish-blue, he swung at the distracted elf, catching him on the back. The staff sparked as it made contact, and instantly the elf's clothes burst into a magical blue flame.

Still somewhat in shock, Ivy's vision blurred as her eyes begin to water. There was a great pressure building behind them as well, an awful sensation of burning. She tensed at the blade to her throat, small spasms running down her body as her lungs fought involuntarily to expand and fill with lifegiving air. It was an all-over ache; she could hear her heart beating frantically to supply enough oxygen to her brain. She never let go of Herefara's arm, although her hands could not do anything to dislodge him now. She shut her eyes, feeling a vast dizziness.

"I'm going to die…" Ivy wondered in her muddled thoughts...or, rather, she would have if she had been able to form so much as a question in it. But she knew the feeling, although the words did not pass in their normal silent ring. It wasn't so much a wondering as a cold realization of the fact.

Roscoe, freed by the elf's clutches, gasped and looked over at Ivy. "No!" he thought, "no time to get my sword!"

Roscoe rolled to his feet and made a desperate lunge at the murderer. He latched onto the man's sword arm and sank his teeth as far as he could into his skin.

Herefara's hand immediately released his sword and he cried out in pain, his grip on Ivy also loosening. He swung his left hand into the side of Roscoe's head and retrieved his sword, prepared to stab Roscoe through...

Ivy grimaced, feeling a slight relief but not quite knowing what it meant. Her lungs expanded suddenly, a sharp pain in both her sides. Each small breath of air hurt a little bit less; the world coming slowly back to her. Fighting off the incredible urge to lie on the ground and conveniently faint, she brought her hands back up to struggle with Herefara's loosened arm. Maybe she'd distract him long enough to let Roscoe or Gandalf do something...but there was still the flaming Elf...

Having distracted the greater foe, Gandalf caught the murderer's sword hand in mid-air with his foot, pinning it to the ground. He brought the tip of Glamdring to the very skin on the man's throat.

"Gandalf the Grey does not usually make the same offer twice," the wizard hissed at the man on the ground. "I've let you go once, and you've chosen to spit in my face. I could kill you now for attacking my friends and serving the will of evil... but there's good in you still, if you have the strength to see it. Flee from here! Serve your evil master no more, and I will protect at least your passage from this forest as best I can! Don't be a fool -- choose life!"

Hebrilith was thrown quite aways by the wizard's spell, but he leapt up just as soon as he landed. He would have cried in rage and frustration but he wished to keep away all attention. Yanking off the clasp of his cloak, he flung it away from himself before it could alight the rest of his clothing.

"Thindae, tolo!" ('Thindae, come!') The grey horse came trotting from behind and the elf grasped onto the saddle and leapt up into the seat. He spurred the horse on and they galloped swiftly off into the deep shadows of the Old Forest just as daybreak hit the horizon.

Roscoe, relieved that his desperate attempts had come to some good after all, grabbed Ivy and pulled her from the man's reach; he was not going to underestimate the man this time! Nonetheless, he was exhausted, and did not get up right away. "Bless you, Gandalf!" he thought, "bless you indeed!"

The man began trembling again. He had thought that the hobbit lass was surely done for and that half his job was accomplished... then he found himself staring down the sharp end of a sword with a powerful wizard on the other.

He couldn't bring himself to say a single word. He simply let out a few quavering whimpers and rolled over, crawling away as fast as his knees could take him. When he decided that he was far enough away, he climbed to his feet and stumbled away through the brush, not so much as daring to look back.