Hello to whom ever is reading this,
Updated sooner for a change. Hopefully this streak will keep going. Anyways, as sort of an apology gift, I wrote this chapter to be twice as long. Hope you like it.
Also, I've noticed that I have a bad habit of editing (changing things) previous chapters as I write a new one. I will keep you up to date with any major changes.
Biggest change is that she lost her dagger in Moria. This was something I intended to have happen in my original draft but then switched it. I've decided I like it better that way. If you want to re-read that sequence, it is in Chapter 5. You don't have to but you can. I also edited this into every chapter after that so she doesn't magically have her dagger back.
I also changed one thing with her flashback dream sequence. When her father talks about the old sword there's this really stupid 'Lay your blood on the blade first thing'. I took that out. I realized it was really really dumb and it wasn't in the original draft. If you are like me who often skims over flashbacks (I know its bad but a lot of them drag on or are the same story...) then you probably aren't going to miss much. If you did enjoy it, then you can read it again but it isn't that important so I suggest just reading this chapter.
Once again, let me know what you think. Any major or minor errors in my writing? (not spelling errors. I'm talking sentence structure or grammar that is consistently wrong.) My goal is to improve my writing so it is very helpful to me. Also, anything that can be improved story wise or anything you want to see included?
I love reading reviews (even bad ones but I hope they are bad for good reason). I am not going to deny it, reviews keep my going.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. Only my own character(s) and plot twists.
On with the story!
Nausea. Without a second to spare, I flip from my back onto my hands and knees as my stomach begins to heave. I clench my eyes shut as I feel the hot bile slip out of my throat. Digging my hands into the dirt I ground myself. A few seconds to breath and I'm at it again, emptying my stomach. I try to resist it the third time, clamping my mouth shut and focusing on restraining the muscles in my stomach.
"Let it happen, it'll be over soon." That's when I notice the hand rubbing my back soothingly and another keeping my hair out of my face. As if to answer his request, my stomach lurches and I vomit again. I begin to dry heave as my stomach refuses to stop.
"Relax. It's done." My body shakes softly and then evens out. "That's it, breath." Taking a few deep breaths, I glance to the side to see the boot of the man kneeling beside me. Aragorn...
"Are you okay now?" He asks as I raise my arm and wipe the stomach acid from the my mouth. I give a curt nod before I stare at my arm. One thousand souls...
The night's events hit me with the force of a gale and I frantically scurry backwards, eventually slamming my back into the stone wall of the pit. Now I'm shaking, worse than I was before. I grasp my arm and tightly hold it to my chest. I must kill one thousand people. My breathing becomes increasingly ragged and jarred. If not, I-I die and the world falls with me. Calm down... Calm down. Calm down! Control yourself!
Aragorn is at my side in a second. The look of worry more than evident on his face as he reaches out to touch my arm. As soon as his skin makes contact with my arm, I produce a violent flinch and lean away from the man.
Aragorn POV
She's scared. Really scared.
"What's wrong?" I ask cautiously.
"I-I... I.." Her stutter combined with her appearance makes me extremely alert. Everything about her right now is wrong. Uncharacteristically fragile and skittish. She can't even speak her mind.
Carefully and slowly, I edge my way directly in front of her, the gap closing quickly. I reach my arms around hers and without hesitation, I pull her into my grasp. I can feel her fighting against me, trying to punch and kick her way free. I won't let her. Tightening my hold, I press her against me and wait.
It only takes a few moments for her to settle down. She buries her face in my chest and I can feel light the light tears melt into the cloth of my tunic and the gentle trembling of her body. I loosen my grip and stroke her back.
"I have to..." She mutters without moving.
"Have to what?" I question.
"I have to kill one thousand people. Before time runs out." She whispers.
My eyes are wide and I hold her out, hands on her arms as I stare into her tear stained face. She holds her gaze down at the floor.
"What?" My own voice sounds foreign to me, barely above the wind.
She holds out her arm and removes the bandaging. She pulls the sleeve up and unwinds more cloth hiding her arm. Under the light of the moon, I see it. Black numbers are written on her arm. Ebony spiderwebs lacing their way all across her skin, being to trace the edges of her hand and beyond the elbow. My mouth is agape as I watch the last number on the first row continue to count down. How is this possible?
Turning my eyes away from her arm, I look to the girl in front of me. Her face is heavy set with an air of seriousness as she yanks the sleeve back down. A part of me is pleased at this, she seems to have returned to her usual self. This does nothing to waver my concern and my need for answers.
She explains it quickly and fully. "The first row is how long I have left to live. The second row is how many I have killed. I must capture one thousand souls before I die. Or else, bad things will happen."
"How long do you have left?"
"I will die when I am twenty." I can feel my stomach sink. I remember her saying she was sixteen. That's four years.
"What kind of bad things?" She sighs at my question.
"I'm not sure. I-It showed me a dying tree. And, the people were hungry. Starving..." What she's saying, it's crazy.
"What showed you?" Her crimson eyes stare into mine.
"The mirror." Realization dawns on my face as I turn my head over my shoulder to glance at the stone altar.
"You looked into the mirror?"
"The lady bid me do it." Galadriel. I can sense myself losing the main focus and I change topics.
"How did you get these markings?"
"Had them since I was born." She answers nonchalantly "It didn't start counting down until I was ten years of age." A solemn look spread across her face. I can tell just by her expression that she's thinking deeply. Probably remembering her childhood.
"How many have you killed so far?" Her breath catches at the question.
"Thirteen." I watch her face closely. I knew she was a thief. I never thought she would kill.
"Why?" The question slips out before I can stop it. I don't wish to intrude upon her personal life, especially with how guarded she is. Yet, thirteen lives at the hand of this girl?
To my surprise, she answers. "Seven orcs in the mines. Five were contracts from my boss. The first was..." She clenches her jaw. She must have killed someone on accident. I let out a small sigh and rise to my feet.
Tamber POV
I refuse to look him in the eyes as he rises to his feet. He probably believes me to be the devil's child now. The killer. I don't want to see the disappointment on his face as he now knows that I'm not just a thief. I am a murderer.
"Come, we best catch some rest." An outstretch hand lingers in front of me. I follow the arm up to see Strider with a kind smile on his face. Confusion rests in my mind as I hesitantly lock my gloved fingers around his wrist. Effortlessly, he pulls me to my feet. "We'll find a way to sort this out." He adds.
As soon as I am standing, the world tilts and I sway. Quickly, I reach out to where I hope he is and hold his arm to steady myself. Why am I so exhausted and shaken? Oh right, I passed out twice. Had blinding pain shoot through my body. Looked in the mirror and emptied my stomach. On top of that, the stress of finding out what the numbers meant. That would probably do it.
The ranger automatically snakes an arm around my waist and holds me close to his side. He walks slowly as make our way up the stairs and back to where the others are fast asleep. He gently lowers me to the ground and I rest my back against the large tree trunk. I wrap my cloak around me and pull my hood up. I hear Aragorn lie against the tree as well, to my left.
"Thank you." I whisper and drift into a pleasant sleep.
Third person POV
The wizard in white stands before the army of Uruk-hai. Two hundred strong, smearing white paint over their dark armour and skin as they wait for their master to speak.
"Hunt them down. Do not stop until they are found. You do not know pain. You do not know fear. You will taste man-flesh." The wizard turns to face the leader of the pack. The strongest Uruk-hai of the group. Lurtz. His muscles rippling, an upside down white hand print is plastered to his forehead.
"One of the halfings carries something of great value. Bring him to me alive and unspoiled. There is also a young girl. Bring her to me. Unless she is dead." Kill the others." Lurtz shouts these orders to his army before leading them out of Isengard.
The White Wizard watches as his beasts leave. He grins. "Should she die, the world will fall, and it will need a ruler." He gazes towards the demonic sphere resting on the pedestal.
Tamber POV
Morning comes quickly. I hold my arm out to block the sun's harsh rays as I notice that this morning is a bit chillier than I would have liked. The day has started before me so I must catch up.
I locate the group members within a few seconds. Today is different. I can sense it by the way they are packing. Finally leaving I gather.
Boromir walks up to me smiling as he hands me a few thin blocks of bread wrapped in large green leaves. I take it, careful not to break the pieces and cradle them in my arms.
"This is-." He begins.
"Lembas bread." I say, cutting him off. Surprise is on both of our faces. Myself for not seeing this bread in years and him for me knowing of it.
"So, already know what it is?" I give him a nod with a small smile before taking off a small piece and popping it in my mouth.
"Good." He continues. "Today is the day we leave. Pack your things and be at the ready." Right as he's about to turn around. I catch his arm. Instantly, I recoil as he turns back to me. I move my gaze to the side.
"What's wrong?" He asks.
"I told him." I mutter.
"Told who?"
"I told Strider about it."
"What did he have to say."
"He said we would find a way."
"And we will." He reassures.
After a parting feast, we don our new green cloaks, pinned with the leaves of Lorien. We also have boats and Sam received some elven rope. Courtesy of Galadhrim. Somewhere along the way, I manage to return the sword I borrowed, much the the elf's gratitude.
As we are about to leave, Galadriel presents the fellowship with a few gifts. Legolas receives a bow. A golden belt for Boromir. Silver belts for Merry and Pippin. Some sort of significant small box for Sam. Strider received the Elfstone and a sheath. Gimli kindly declines at first to receive a gift but as Galadriel insists, he reluctantly asks for a hair from her head. She gives him three.
When I assume we are done, I'm about to stop and leave when she stops in front of me. I raise my head to face her. She holds before me a sword. I quietly gasp and my eyes widen with recognition.
"For you, Tamber Hartlyn." I take the sword with two hands. Eyeing it up and down. Everything is the same. The maroon grip, the engraved letters that drift from the end of the pommel down into the sheath, the dark sheath. My grip tightens drastically. I lower my head with anger. Last I saw this sword, that bastard of a father was carrying it with him when he left us. Now the sword is here? It doesn't make any sense.
"How did you get this?" I refuse to look at her. I can't. I can't let them see the tears forming in my eyes.
"You're father was brought here gravely injured. He handed the sword to us. He requested we hand it to you should you pass through here."
"Is that all?..." Bastard...
"He left me a message for you."
"Of what sort?" Frustration was beginning to line my voice.
"He wishes to tell you that he is sorry." Sorry?! That's it? I look up at the lady and quickly pull myself together remember where I am. I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat
"Thank you, my lady." I nod in respect and hold my sword to my side. Before turning to the last member, she bends down to put her lips next to my ear.
Her words are as soft as the wind. "He failed to free you. For that, he is sorry."
My mind is numb as we head to the boats. Frodo receives the light of Earendil, a star in a phial. That much I remember. For the rest, my mind is numb. I help load the boats like the walking dead and eventually end up floating down the Anduin with Boromir, Pippin and Merry.
Endless strings of thought tie knots in my head. I sit at the front of the boat, sitting with my head tucked into my knees which are pulled close, wrapped with my arms. My hair shadows the remainder of my forehead.
He knew. That's the only answer. That bastard knew about the curse. Then, why would he leave. What did she mean by 'free' me? Did she mean the curse? Does that mean he left us to find a way to break the curse? It would make sense. I mean, the day before he left, he took me through everthing, seeing if I could survive. But, why didn't he tell me?
"Do you think she's okay?" I hear Pippin's voice invading my thoughts.
"I don't know. Do you think we should ask?" Merry added.
"Leave her alone. She needs some time to herself." Boromir interjects. Thank you, Boromir.
Assuming I'm correct, that means that he left us to find a way to break the curse. He didn't leave because he wanted to. He left because he had to... Does that make me the bastard for hating him? I can't accept that. Especially when one problem still remains. How did he know what it was?
Time to get my mind off of things. Suddenly, I sit up straight. Careful to mask all emotion from my face, I stare ahead. I clear my mind and pull my sword into my lap. Slowly, I unsheathe it. It looks the same. Exactly the same as it did. Putting it back in it's sheath, I finally get around to strapping it to my belt and then gaze at the water.
"Do you know that blade?" Boromir asks.
Without looking, I answer. "He is an old friend of mine."
"He?" The questioning tone doesn't not slip past me and I grin, turning to look Boromir as well as the halflings.
"A man longs for a woman's touch so why should it be any different for a woman to long for a man's touch?" I begin to chuckle at the hinted crudity of my words as Boromir just smiles awkwardly and rubs his chin.
After passing the Aragonath, we continue down the river and eventually stop on the shores of a large lake. I leap out of the boat when we come to shallow waters and guide it onto the short beach. The other two boats follow suit. Soon, we are seated around and Strider stands before us.
"We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."
"Oh, yes," Gimli starts with a less than impressed tone. " Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks. And after that gets even better...a festering, stinking marshland, far as the eye can see."
"This is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf." Aragorn replies.
"Recover my...!"
Strider ignores this comment as Legolas captures his attention. I turn away from them and walk a bit of a ways into the forest, far enough that the group is out of sight. A large, beautifully carved stone captures my attention and I walk over it to admire the beautiful half face. Although only half, it is still pretty huge. I sit down at where the stone meets the earth.
Through boredom, I decide to take an inventory check of all of my supplies. First, the weapons. With my newest addition, I also have my bow and a few arrows. As long as I don't lose anything, I should be fine. Food wise, I have a three packs of lembas bread. Enough for a long while considering how little of it you need to eat to stay alive. I have a couple of strips of fabric for bandages. If I really need to patch something up, I'll just use my tunic as always. Finally, I check over the slice in my arm, twisting my wrist around to see that it is healing quite nicely and quickly. I can hardly feel it which is nice but, I still have to be careful. The small cut in my shoulder has scarred over so it won't be causing any problems. It seems as if I am all ready.
I look back to where the group is, watching one of the halflings carry a bundle of wood back to the camp.
A cracking sound brings my attention to the left, further into the forest. Quickly, I get to my feet and quietly stalk the sound. My hand lingering on the hilt of the sword.
The faint sound of Boromir's voice seeps through the windless air. "None of us should wander alone. You least of all. So much depends on you... Frodo?"
Frodo? What is Boromir doing alone with Frodo? My grip tightens and I quicken my pace. Accustomed to the sounds of the forest and the feel of the earth, I move without sound.
"I know why you seek solitude. You suffer. I see it day by day. You are sure you do not suffer needlessly?" Boromir's voice begins to have an eerie edge and the hair on my skin stands up. I continue to follow the source of the noise until the two figures appear a few yards away. Crouching behind a bush, I keep my eyes on the pair. They stand roughly two yards apart. A slight breeze rushes past.
Boromir continues. "Let me help you. There are other ways, Frodo, other paths that we might take." Frodo turns around to look at him.
"I know what you would say, and it would seem like wisdom but for the warning in my heart." The halflings replies.
"Warning. Against what?"
Boromir starts walking towards Frodo. The now familiar ache climbs into my cursed arm, kissing the palm of my hand. I ignore it, not breaking my focus. Something is going to happen. I can feel it in my skin.
"We are all afraid, Frodo. But to let that fear drive us to destroy what hope we have... Don't you see that it is madness?"
"There is no other way."
"I ask only for the strength to defend my people." Angrily, the man drops the fire wood he had collected. "If you would but lend me the ring."
"No..." Frodo answers cautiously, hurriedly taking a few steps opposite of where I wait. The The ache starts to burn gently.
"Why do you recoil? I am no thief." Boromir tries to reason, taking a step towards him.
"You are not yourself."
"What chance do you think you have? They will find you, they will take the ring and you will beg to death before the end."
Frodo turns to leave, his back facing me with Boromir inbetween. Boromir clenches his hands into fists.
"You fool!" He shouts. "It is not your's save by unhappy chance. It might have been mine. It should be mine. Give it to me! Give me the ring!" The man charges the halfling, leaping ontop of him in a mad struggle to take the ring.
I bolt towards the pair. Before I can reach him, Frodo pulls out the ring and disappears with Boromir groping to where the halfling used to be.
I stand above the crazed man watching him angrily flail on the ground.
"Boromir..." I whisper hesitantly, attempting to snap him out of his trance.
Rage filled eyes snap onto mine as he jumps to his feet. Without thinking, I take a small step back.
"You!" He begins before briskly walking up to me. "You did nothing to stop hi-!" Violently, he grabs the front of my tunic. As soon as the gloves touch the fabric, my eyes narrow and I grip his arms. Kicking him with all the strength I can muster, I hit him in the back of the knee, forcing him to collapse. I yank his arms off and press them forward causing him to fall on his back. He lets out a small shout of surprise.
Quickly, I straddle his chest and keep pressure on his arms to keep him from lashing out. It would have worked if there wasn't such a weight difference... Much to my dismay, I soon find myself being pinned to the ground in reversed positions. Boromir's hands snake around my throat, restricting my air. He leans down towards me.
"You don't know of the struggles my people will endure." Desperately, I try to yank his hands away, kicking my feet in any direction trying to get him to stop. He watches me madly as more moments pass.
"I need the ring!" My lungs are exploding in my chest as dark spots begin to enter my vision.
For a split second I watch the madness disappear from his eyes and the grip on my throat is gone. Finally taking a deep breath, I flip onto my hands and knees as I cough violently. I hear the man get onto his feet and walk close to me.
"Tamber?..." He says cautiously. After the coughing dies down, I remain on the ground, breathing in the air like it would be the last time.
"What have I done? Please for give me.." He bends down beside me and I angle myself away from him. Panting as my body relaxes.
"Are you all right? Did I hurt you?"
"Fine." I say as I look at his concerned face. "I'm fine. But, I am not the one you should be worrying about."
"Frodo..." He says with horror.
"Go find him, I am going to return to the others." With a nod, he looks around for any sign of him, eventually deciding on a random direction.
As for me, I pick myself off of the ground, dust off my clothes and look around. I let out a sigh. That was entertaining... Slowly, I head in the direction of the camp... until I hear and feel the soft rumbling shake the earth. Vibrating into my boots, I don't make a sound as I turn my head around.
Thunk!
My eyes dart to the arrow shaft sticking out of the tree next to my face. Whipping to it's source, I see the tall, beast like Uruk-hai dressed in dark armour with white hands painted on their bodies thundering down the hillside.
As fast as my feet can take my, I sprint down towards where the rest of the group should be. Looking closely, I notice the Uruk-hai have already been spotted by the others as they are no where to be found. I veer to the right to avoid more of the enemy, not bothering to pull out a weapon as I try to gain some distance.
I hear one of the Uruk-hai shouting in a deep voice to his friends but, I miss what he says. Running along side of a large boulder, I swiftly duck underneath it, whipping my cloak around in hopes that they didn't see me.
Taking a few moments to regain my breath, I scan my surroundings. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Merry and Pippin suddenly jumping up and waving their arms around. What the hell?... The confusion turns to dismay as a pack of Uruks instantly begin to chase them. They run like there's no tomorrow.
I know that I'm a terrible shot with a bow when the target is moving so I take out my sword. Waiting until the Uruks stop appearing behind them, I sprint to catch up to the pair.
Twenty yards, too far. They swarm the halflings like insects; one being ready for the kill as he holds an axe above his head, aimed at it's prey. There is no way I can save them. I'm too far away. Too slow to pull out a bow. Too insignificant to capture their attention onto myself instead.
As if appearing out of thin air, Boromir rushes forward from the side, sword in hand. He dashes in front of the halflings and grabs the shaft of the axe, pulling it from the Uruk's hands before stabbing him in the chest with his own blade. Skillfully, he fends off the Uruk's with a flurry of slashes and stabs. With an opening, he attempts to lead the hobbits away.
A small grin appears on my face as I almost reach the group. A black beast jumps in front of me, swinging the dark iron at my neck. I react, ducking underneath the blade and pushing my own through his chest. I pull it out, kick him to the side and continue forward. Stopping again as more Uruks come into my path. I dodge some and fight who I have to, trying to find the fastest path to the halflings and Boromir.
The sound of a horn invades my ears from in front of me. A low tone followed by a high tone. My ears perk up. Boromir's horn...
Desperately, I try to go faster. Cutting them down, I don't worry about the scratches on my arms or how close I come to death on several occasions. My focus is on saving the halflings, and defending Boromir.
One more is bleeding to death by my hand and running forward, I see them. Boromir is on his knees, the halflings standing further away, watching in horror. That's when I see the two arrows protruding from his chest.
"Boromir!" I shout as I hack and slash at few Uruks that stand in my way. The man looks at me with horror and hope as I am only a few yards away. He too continues to fight.
Sharp pain explodes in the back of my skull and my sword slip from my fingers. Time slows down as I collapse. The pain numbing itself as my vision turns to darkness.
Aragorn POV
The leader stands before Boromir, his arrow notched and pulled back aimed at his head. Without thinking, I jump on the Uruk-hai. We both fall to the ground as his arrow is released away from his target.
We both stand, swords meeting as the fight begins. Bashing me with his dark shield, I am thrown backwards. Landing against a tree, my weapon flies from my hand. As soon as I look up, the shield is pinning me to the wood with my neck in the small slot. Desperately, I use my strength to try and move the shield. Watching as he comes closer... raising his sword. I feel the metal budge and I duck right as the sword passes over top of me.
In my crouched position, I punch him in the gut. He flips me forward into the clearing. I roll just in time to evade his downward strike. I kick him in the knee then whip out my knife to stab him in the thigh. Can nothing bring this beast down?
Punching me hard in the face, I'm disoriented as I roll away. Grabbing me, he head butts me then punches me in the stomach, throwing me further away. The pain boils up and I almost feel sick from the last hit. Quickly, I regain my focus.
I bless my luck as I see the glinting of my sword in front of me. Crawling, I hold the sword and watch as the Uruk pulls out the knife in his thigh with a roar, then licks his own blood off. He throws the knife, I deflect it.
I'm barely on my feet as his sword swings down at me. Block. Stand. Fight. With all of my courage, I switch from being on the defensive, to playing offense.
One well placed slice later, the Uruk's arm falls off and my sword sticks out of his stomach. Unfazed, the Uruk pulls me closer by lodging the weapon further into his stomach. Waiting for the perfect moment, I pull out the blade and slice off his head.
My victory is short lived as I remember my friend. Running in the field of bodies, I lean over Boromir to assess the damage he has endured. His pale skin contrasts the red liquid seeping down his body. His breathing is ragged.
"They took the little ones." He begins hoarsely.
"Stay still." I whisper, trying to think of plan to heal him.
"And the girl." I look at him straight the eyes. Why would they take her? "They took the girl." He repeats.
"Frodo... Where is Frodo?" He asks.
"I let Frodo go."
"Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the ring from him."
"The ring is beyond our reach now."
"Forgive me, I did not see. I have failed you all."
"No, Boromir. You fought bravely. You kept your honour." I reach to one of the arrows.
"Leave it! It is over. The world of men will fall and all will come to darkness and my city to ruins. "
"I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you. I will not let the White City fall. Nor your people fail."
"Our people..." Knowing the man's fate, I place his sword in his hand which he places over his chest.
"I would have followed you, my brother. My captain... My king." I watch his soul slip from his body.
"Be at peace, son of Gondor." I whisper as I kiss his forehead. I stand, still gazing at the man's body.
"They will look for his coming from the white tower... But he will not return." I say solemnly. A tear falls from my eyes.
Legolas and Gimli assist me in putting the man in a boat with his shield and supplies. The broken horn as well and we send him down the great river. Now on the shores of the lake, we all patch up a few of our wounds as I strap the dead man's bracers on my own arms. As a reminder of my oath.
Legolas grabs a boat and drags it across the sand towards the water. "Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore! If we are quick, we can catch them before nightfall." The elf looks at my relaxed self, sitting casually on a rock.
"You mean not to follow them." He concludes, walking up to me as Gimli does the same.
"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands." I respond.
"Then it has all been in vain. The fellowship has failed." Gimli says.
Walking up to the pair, I place each hand on one of their shoulders. "Not if we hold true to each other." Hope laces my voice. "We will not abandon Merry, Pippin and Tamber to torment and death. Not while we have strength left."
Pulling away, I continue. "Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light."
I put my knife into my belt and look contently at my followers. "Let us hunt some orc."
Thank you for reading another chapter.
Finally finished with the Fellowship of the Ring and onto my personal favourite, The Two Towers.
A lot of things might not make sense in this chapter. You might be wondering 'How could this character know about that?' or 'Why would that person do this?' or not. But, all will be answered eventually.
Lots happened in this chapter and I hope it was worth it. I'm really excited to write the The Two Towers sequence so, keep reading if you enjoy this story.
Please review and tell me what you think. Reviews are nice, even if they are bad. (Unfortunately, like children, bad attention is better than no attention. Although constructive criticism is always preferred to hateful remarks.)
Thanks again, see you in The Two Towers.
~Nighthief