Chapter 8 part 2
It was a long trip and so after a long and uneventful trip Zaron reached the Firenholt Forest and now stood at the base of the woods looking at the trees. Each one standing tall over the ground casting a shadow over the road ahead, and blocking the light from the sun.
Walking though the shade of the trees, he saw many a creature wondering though the woods, going about it's day.
"I envy you." he said to himself watching the sparrows fly form branch to branch. "You walk this earth, with out knowing sorrow, with out knowing pain. The only thing you know is to fly about and lay eggs in your nest."
"Do not envy what you do not understand." came a voice.
Stopping he scanned woods but Zaron saw nothing but the trees, and creatures that lived there.
"You know not of the life of the sparrows, being hunted, having to protect yourself, keeping one stead ahead before your." the voice cut out and Zaron saw a wolf jump up and nap the sparrow out of the air.
Soon an Elf emerged from the woods. "Perhaps the Sparrow would be envies of you, who has such little in the ways of worries."
"At least the Sparrow doesn't know my pain."
"I think know the Sparrow knows nothing." replied the Elf "Do you mind me asking why a man of the south as come so far north."
"I was hired by a Elf, to hunt Dragon-Kinn."
"That's what your telling your self, like how I say I came this way for a walk, but in fact I wanted to escape from the matters of the heart."
"I told you I'm hunting Dragon-Kinn." he grunted and carried on his way.
Moving further and further he moved faster and faster, the words echoing form the Elf as they followed him. He veered of the path and soon splashed though a river soaking himself though as he carried on soon finding himself collapsing on the bank on the other side of the river. As everything came over him he soon found himself fading away as the water washed up on the bank and washed over his boots.
Coming to he found himself stripped down around a small camp fire, as his clothes hung above it draying off. Looking over Zaron saw the Elf was sitting crossed legs eating a stew.
"I was wondering when you where going to come round."
"Why are you doing this."
"No act of kindness no matter how small how small is ever waisted." said the Elf before eating more stew.
Zaron sat up.
"Do good and throw it in to the sea." he said "My father always told me, that to always do good will spread more kindness."
"I hate to say it your father might have been getting on, when he came up with that."
"He was putting on in his late three hundreds, but I doubt that he was not fully capable, as even now he knows good actions will see good in return.
"Why can't you leave me alone."
"You are haunted, by your past. So am I."
"You said you came here due to a lover's quarrel."
"Yes, and that was well over one hundred years ago."
"How long have you lived out here."
"You miss understand, I have only been here for a few days, but the bickering has not stopped, and instead for talking though our problems."
"You come here."
"And avoid them."
The two sat in silence.
"I'm still learning to face my problems, but you." he said turning to face him "You still can fix them, you don't have to let them eat you up inside."
"And what about you?"
"I'm still working on my self, but will I have an eternity, your life is shorter. Don't waste what time you have, doubting your self."
"Well, I still have to complete my task." he said standing up fully taking his clothes from their place above the fire.
"It's dark, and your clothes are still wet." said the Elf "Rest , wait a wile."
"The longer I stay here, the more time I spend away form my goal." he insisted.
"If I can't make you stay at least take my cloak, it was bathed in the light of the moon, and shall allow to move unseen in the night." The elf stood up and picked up a black cloak that was sitting the floor close bye.
Taking it Zaron slipped in to "Thank you, may our paths cross again, in a better time in our own lives."
The Elf nodded and the two parted, Zaron moved further though the woods and the Elf stayed in the woods sitting around their camp. Leaving the woods Zaron soon came out in to the open world and spotted the road ahead. He made his way over to carry on on his hunt of the Dragon-kinn, before heading further north.
The long and heralding journey took him to Edora, where after entering the city he stumbled his way around. He tried to avoid the locals and tried to find so where to rest and came across the new local tavern. As he entered he made no introduction and chose to sat at the far end of the room in corner. No one paid him any mind, and he was soon approached by a waitress.
"Welcome to the White Stallion." she smiled greeting him warmly. "What can I get you."
He dove his hand in to his pockets and pulled out what little coin he had carried, emptying his hands to the table and looked at his poor collection.
"What ever this can get me." he said.
"Okay." nodded the waitress taking the coins, a little confused she went straight to the kitchen.
Watching the other patrons, he kept moving his hand to his gloved holding it as he felt one of his fingers. Having his eyes dance across the room, moving from person to person he didn't see the large barley man come over and sit in front of him.
"What are you doing here, little man." they asked leaning in.
"Wanting to enjoy a good drink and meal, like anyone else." said Zaron trying to brush him off.
"Well, I thought having some stranger show up out of nowhere and just sit here, kinda stands out."
"I don't want any trouble." Zaron replied trying to ignore him.
"Then why don't you tell us what your doing here."
"Why don't you go away, and let me leave when I'm done." said Zaron becoming more agitated.
"And why should we do that?"
Getting irritated Zaron got up and tried to punch the man with his gloved hand, but his first was caught, by the other man. Pulling away the man gripped the glove and Zaron tried to retract his attack but the man tried to pull him forward, two forces led to the glove being pulled off. With it also came loose a ring, the small simple black ring that was flung in to the air, it's golden lettering seemed only a blur. As the glove came off Zaron's focus shifted as he saw the ring he been pulled of his finger, watching it as flew though the air and fell back down towards the ground.
The sound of the clang as the metal ring it the wooden floor and bounced back up, over and over again before it landed finally on the ground. Zaron scrambled out of his seat and dove on to the floor as he tried to grasp the ring, all eyes fell on him as the chaos unfolded.
Ounce he had the ring he sat back down in his chair and reapplied the ring, the owner catching the matter, quelled the room. The man handed back over the glove and everyone seemingly went back to their own business. Zaron was left to his table and the waitress came back with a small meal for him and put it down, not having seen what had unfolded.
"Thank you." said Zaron as he started to dig in to his meal.
Everyone watched him and kept an eye on the ring on his figure as the glove was still not on his hand.
Having finished his meal and getting ready to depart everyone was still watching when a Elf came in and sat opposite him.
"You are going to need to change your course." said the Elf.
"It took me a wile just to get here."
"Well know you need to head east, we have reason to believe they're are going to pass over the mountains."
"So they're no longer…"
"No, is this understood."
"At this point I wonder why you don't stop them yourselves."
"Don't ask stupid questions, if you want that talk with the king, then do what your told." she said standing up.
Zaron scowled at her, but as the Elf was about to leave she spotted the ring still on the finger. The Elf's gaze was strong and was drawn to the ring.
"Where did you get that ring." she asked sitting down again.
"It was given to me." he replied as he moved his spare hand to fiddle with the ring on his finger. "It used to show me our support to the dark lord, but now it just reminds me of my past."
"That ring, is a replica of the one ring as accounted by Gandalf the white."
"Well, this ring came in my possession when it was discovered by my father who himself found it self in the hands of someone who was trying to flog it off as the genuine article."
"Do you even know how such a ring came to be?"
"No." said said putting his glove back on "Why are you so concerned."
"Lord Elrond ounce called a council meeting over finding one of these forgeries."
"What does any of this have to do with me."
"We've never en counted one that was of different colour and sheared the scripture. All others where of plain gold and to the naked eye at least no words where laid upon them."
"I'm leaving." he said.
The Elf watched as he got up and started to leave.
"Are you sure you don't want to know?"
"Yes." he said and departed the tavern.
The Elf was left to dwell on the ring.
Leaving the tavern he also left Edoras parting the city, he never looked back and kept on his path. He carried on his journey as he made his way east by north east as he climbed the road forever onwards. Passing Helm's deep making his way to the Fords of Isen, leading on to the North South road crossing over the river Isen.
The rest of the long stretch of the road lead to Tharbard.
After the fall of Sauron the ring fell in to the hands to the king of man, Isildur. But the rings hold had already taken hold of him, and the fear of loosing his precious ring become all he wished to protect. So in order to find a way to ensure the ring was to be ever be secure a plan was to me made, and so he travelled to Dwarf Lord of The Lonely Mountain.
As Isildur came before the Dwarf Lord of Lonely Mountain bowing to their feet, he looked up towards their beard face.
"Why have you, Isildur king of men come to the mountain of Dwarfs."
"I have come to you, In the hopes that you may help me."
"And why would we do that."
"I can give you what ever you need, all I ask you is to create a replica of this." said Isildur holding out the one ring on the chain he hung around his neck.
There was chatter amongst the Dwarf Lord and his advisers, and Isildur kept him self on one knee and his breaths sped up as his heart raced.
"Very well." replied the lord "We shall have our greatest smith's to craft you your ring, but we will require the ring it self."
Isildur pulled the ring close to him as he stood up and took step back, the Dwarfs seemed confused by his reaction.
"We only require the ring as to make sure we craft one to it's own likeness that no will could tell the difference."
"Then what I stopping you from taking the ring and giving me a fake."
"We dwarfs want little of jewels and rings, we have learnt that form the last rings gifted to us." spoke the lord "We only wish for the treasures we can find in the mountain."
Isildur's face became one of fear and nerviness, but in the end he removed the chain and handed it over to the Dwarf lord. Who in turn nodded and had it carted off.
Deep in the forge of the The Lonely Mountain the Dwarf's best smithy was at work on great weapons when a messenger came with the ring.
"This had come form the great Lord himself you are to forge a ring like this." said the messenger holding out the ring.
"It is only gold." said he Dwarf swatting it away.
As it fell form the hand's of the messenger it hit the ground ounce with a hard thud, the smithy looked down and piked up the ring.
"No metal like this could exist, light weight to the touch but heavy as all hell to hit the ground." he said in amazement holding the ring to his face. "Leave this to me."
The messenger nodded and left, leaving the Dwarf to forge the ring, but as he moved over to the fires his mind crossed a thought and so tossed the ring in the hot fires of the forge. The heat coming over was enough to melt even the strongest blades in mere moments, but the ring did nothing in the fire, but light up in the golden flames.
"Impossible." Gasped the dwarf.
Reaching for this tool, he used a set of tweezers to pull the ring form the fire, looking at it now he saw the words like fire in the glowing vain of red appear on the ring, then dwarf then put the ring down.
He reached for gold and iron, and many other of the raw minerals he had and mixed them crossed them to forge the golden circlet he had been given to duplicate. Soon the ring was made, but it was no longer the same size as the ring he had been given, so he forged it again yet it did not match the ring. Soon enough he had made five counterfeits all in different size, but all the very same ring.
The messenger returned to see he was exasperated hung over the hot flames.
"Do you have the ring?" asked the messenger.
"Yes." replied the Dwarf, and he picked up all five of the forged rings.
"Wait which one is the real one?" asked the messenger looking at the rings.
"Oh, I forgot, this is the real ring." and he moved over to where the ring sat of the edge of the fire pit, his finger seeming not fit around the ring.
As he grabbed it his index finger passed though as if to wear the ring, but he only picked it and passed it over. The messenger nodded ad left with all six rings, but the smith looked back and then to his forge, clearing away his work space he pulled together a small clump of black metal and began to forge a small circlet of black and gold. Carving in small dents for each of he letters with such precision, then filled the gaps with droplets of gold until he had forged his own ring, and slipped it on.
The Dwarf had returned the one ring and all it's copies and the chain to the lord who then presented it back to Isildur.
"Thank you." he said bowing ounce more as he looked though each ring before attaching it back on to the chain.
"We hope to hear form you about our deal." said the Dwarfs.
Isildur bowed out of consideration, and made with haste, ounce he was no longer in anyone's view he tried on each of the rings, until he found the one ring. He soon removed it and applied back back to his chain, where it later hung on around his head, like a noose.
As the ring would be thought to have been safe as he had ones to give away to acts like fakes to settle fear and qualms as well as disrepair anyone looking for it, it would be the very ring that led him to his death.
As he made his approach to the city his thoughts wavered, should Zaron turn back was all this going to bring him closer to his gaol. The thoughts flooded his mind, as with nothing standing in his way the only thing he was left with was his own mind. The ring plagued him on his very hand, he covered it it, holding him to oath to fight for the dark lord and reminding him of what it had brought him.
His mind festered even as he arrived in the city, seeing how it was being rebuilt his mind moved away from the past, and towards the future. No longer did he look for the Dragon-Kinn nor did he ask after them he spoke to the people and of the future of Tharbard.
"It wasn't so bad after all, but a lot has happened, we even had those three scalies come though."
Those words where enough to bring him back to see that it was the actions of the past that led to the city's destruction and to his current mission.
"Which way did they go?" he asked.
"That, way." pointed the merchant confused by his change in tone.
So Zaron was off ounce again.
