This is Middle Sfär. Here, it's always the Middle Ages.


It's a three-day ride, from Minas Tirith to Edoras. En route, there are hills and streams and everything else not. Any rider could make the trip with ease...if they don't mind long night rides.

The border between Rohan and Gondor should be better-protected. Rohan, after all, was once a province of Gondor...long before Eorl the Young proved his quality and became the founding king of Rohan. Such a shame, that Eorl's patriline had to end with Helm Hammerhand...

Up the path and across Rohan, a stable girl rides. She's not from Edoras. She's from one of its few very small hamelts...or "horselets," as they're often called by the horse-rearing and -riding proletariat of Rohan.

Meet Renilda. She's a lady of Rohan. On Midsummer's Eves, she sure loves her ales. She's had hobbit ale before...and couldn't get enough of it.

Alas, she's not traveling this road to get drunk...or even to attend a Midsummer's Eve festival. If she wanted to, though, she could; 10 August is only days away, after all. She's en route to the estate of a skin-changing lady of the fields. She's ordered some horses...and the stables of Rohan, as you might expect, are the perfect facilities for the job.

This is the Gap of Rohan. Through it, the River Isen flows. At some angles, it glimmers like diamonds in the sunlight, to those who approach it from atop the hills that flank both banks of it. The Misty and White Mountains form the great walls of this magnificent basin. From atop one such cliff, a waterfall feeds the Isen.

Here and there, up and down the path, the crebain fly. These creepy crows hail from Dunland, and from the sentient woods of Fangorn. In times of peace, they're very mindless. In times of war, they're very nosy. Lucky for Relinda, these crows are just foraging. Even luckier for her, she poses no threat to Dunland...other than being a lady who's not native to Dunland, that is.

To the North, near where the Isen begins, the high tower of Orthanc stands. Renilda is a good stable girl, and gives this tower, as well as the lands around it, a wide berth. She's been told that the White Wizard, the lord of Orthanc, is no white knight.

Off to the East, the White Mountains form the border between Rohan and Gondor. Ah, how Relinda can only WISH she'd get to go up through those passes. She has dreams of Minas Tirith... For now, though, she's just a stable girl with an ordinary job. And she's just as far away from Meduseld as she is from the royal halls of Minas Tirith.

Up ahead, the Fords of Isen make the river shallow. Over this, the Great West Road passes over. With ease, Renilda takes this way across the Isen, taking the duns with her. The duns aren't intimidated by the Fords at all. And to think the White Wizard wanted to build a bridge...

Again, Renilda would love to take this road all the way to Minas Tirith one day... Alas, it won't be today. She's got a delivery to make. And she knows her male relatives will come looking for her with hounds and spears, if she stays gone too long. She also knows that they thrive on a diet of meat-and-potato stew.


Up ahead, surrounded by a vale within the White Mountains of the Gap of Rohan, there's a house. Here, bees fly...and make honey. Goats, geese, and dogs run loose.

A skin-changing Northwoman lives here. And she can be quite the battle-ax, when she doesn't have to be...

In her human form, she stands near a tree stump, and splits some wood with a dwarven-made ax. It's a very fine, and very hardy ax...as it should be. She paid the dwarves a fortune for it. No surprise, they kept raising the price...as if they thought her own queer lodgings were made of coin... But then, the dwarves probably know something about the surrounding caves in the White Mountains; something that Korovanya, here, only wishes she knew...

She stops chopping...and smells her duns coming down the mountain path. She smiles. Hmm; the gelding-breeders of Rohan managed to do it again... She can tell that the duns are of good stock, just by smelling and hearing them from afar... Being a skin-changer, after all, has its advantages.

As Renilda approaches, bees surround her...but keep their distance. She flinches, each time one of them gets too close. But then, anyone would. As any fool can see...or even any hobbit, for that matter...they are very big bees.

Down from the hills, a wizard levitates, using his staff as a mount. He wears no hat and grows no beard. He's a protege of one of the two blue wizards. They call him Inigo the Indigo. He's a bit Goth...but he and Renilda, at least, get on just fine.

He lands near her and walks with her to Korovanya's stables. He conjures a mug of sarsaparilla and offers it to her.

"You're late," he tells her.

At this, Renilda grins. "A stable maiden of Rohan is never late, Inigo the Indigo. Nor is she early. She arrives PRECISELY when she means to."

At this, Inigo grins. "The Grey Pilgrim would have a fit, if he heard you stealing his line."

"I know." She shrugs and sips her sarsaparilla. "But why does that mean I have to be afraid? I mean... The Grey Wizard's fought BALROGS who're more intimidating than me, you know."

He still smiles. "Sounds like you're in the dangerous habit of underestimating your own self-worth."

They laugh.

They keep walking, while chatting. Here and there, the bluebirds, goldfinches, waxwings, and larks land on mulberry posts.


Inside the lodge, a lady bathes. She croons in alto, as she does. She expresses her silhouette from behind a translucent barrier.

Around the bath, linens lay. They're no rags of Rohan...and especially not of Dunland. They were woven, in fact, by the elves of Lothlorien. Alas, the lady in the bath is no elf. She's a noblewoman of Gondor...and hence a Númenórean. At times, though, she doesn't act like a lady. At times, she can be so sociopathic, that she even gets under the nerves of her hostess.

Inigo doesn't seem to mind her, though... But then, she does seem to scare her a bit... But who can blame him? She's a noblewoman of Gondor, after all.

Stumbling, Inde steps out from behind the translucent wall, still in the nude. She finds a towel and puts it on. She's still a bit woozy, from having drunk too much of her hostess's mead.

She passes a window. She stops and looks out it. Through it, she can see the Indigo Wizard and some girl crossing the grounds.

She stops and takes a closer look at the girl. Alas, she needs a telescope. She looks down and finds one lying in some rags. She grabs it, stretches it, and looks through it. True to her suspecions, the girl looks EXACTLY like she thinks she does...

Now, she sets the telescope down, whirls, and looks at her near-naked self in the mirror. The girl who's standing in it...a noblewoman of Gondor...looks almost EXACTLY like that stable girl, who the Indigo Wizard is with... Locks and all...although naturally, they wear their hair differently. They have to. Not only are they from two different nations, but they're from two different social classes.

Well... They're not ENTIRELY different nations. Rohan used to be a province of Gondor, after all...