Prologue
Eleanor locked her sword with that of the spirit in front of her. The specter, which had once been the sorcerer Atarin, grinned evilly at her. "Eternal flame, eternal lord" it chanted over and over again. The words were starting to grate on Eleanor's mind and cause her to be distracted. The sword in her hand grew heavier; she felt unable to move. Eleanor tried to block a strike from the goblin to her left, but the blade grazed her arm. How many times had she been wounded now? Eleanor was beginning to lose count.
As the shade raised its sword Eleanor, with a silent plea to Eru for help, thrust forward with all her might. A sword dropped to the ground and withered; with a final, ear-piercing shriek the spirit crumbled into wind-blown ashes.
Eleanor slumped onto the ground, dimly aware of her friends calling and orcs fleeing. She was exhausted, but could not rest yet. There were still so many things to do after that, but then–home.
Eleanor was ready to return to Dol Amroth.
A/N: Hey, this is Tales from the Cluttered Desk! I'm so excited C.H.W. let me work on this with her! I hope out readers out there enjoy this little saga!
*DISCLAIMER (from C.H.W.)*
Eleanor is a character belonging to Fantasy Flight games, and Boromir/all other non-OC characters belong to Tolkien Estate.
NOTE from C.H.W.
Any author's notes left from me will be in bold, while any from Tales from the Cluttered Desk will be in italics.