Middle-Earth Role Playing Campaign

Burzot flew to Araquenval. Landing on the Elf's shoulder, he told him he had seen a column of horsemen riding from the east, but north of their position, so they probably would not meet. Then the bat returned to his helmet-home and went to sleep.

Unlike the days before, there was no wind. But it was not the stillness of an early morning calm, but a silence so absolute it tensed the entire group. Bradlegar in particular was on pins and needles, constantly looking this way and that, straining for anything that might be a spy for the Witch-King. Bauglir noticed dark clouds gathering in the grey skies to the north and worried they would boil into a storm before the day was out.

They did not have long to wait. About noon the calm was dispelled as a fierce icy wind suddenly blew in from the north. Their robes whipped about them, at times obscuring their vision as their hoods were blown across their faces. The clouds to the north rolled toward them with frightening speed, and in their wake a dense roiling curtain descended to the earth below.

"There are shapes behind us!" called Dennenor over the roar of the wind. "They are like humans, but far too large and dark! And they come straight for us!"

Then the black clouds reached them, and instantly sleet and ice began pounding them. Pellets stung their faces and plinged off their armour. They could no longer see their pursuers. "Which way shall we go?" shouted Bauglir over the howls of the wind.

"South, and then east!" cried Araquenval.

Bradlegar strained to make his voice heard over the roar. "I agree! When our pursuers saw us last, we were heading east! Now they cannot see us, so they will not know we have changed direction!"

"We should go around and get them from behind!" shouted Luinár.

"Are you mad?" cried Bauglir. "If Dennenor's description of those beasts is correct, we are being pursued by black trolls! We would not have a hope of winning in combat! Let's just go!"

"And now!" Mîriel added. "Those things are about fifteen feet tall and weigh nearly four tons. They wear plate armour and fight with a weapon in each hand. Fighting even one is like attacking the tower! And Dennenor said he saw half a dozen!"

They turned to the right and rode for their lives. They could scarcely see where they were for the wind and the rain, so Mîriel cast a nature's awareness spell. Araquenval took out the olorkorna as they rode. He stared into it, imagining he was riding back to meet their pursuers with all haste. And then he was upon them, and they were huge and built like boulders. Black trolls they were, the largest and meanest he had ever seen. All were dressed in plate mail, some carrying immense clubs with spikes in them, some armed with axes. Orcs ran about their feet, keeping close to the ground and ferreting out the trail. The vision suddenly ended.

"Dennenor saw well," Araquenval called to the others. "Six black trolls are after us, and they have Orcs to show them the way!"

Five minutes later they turned left and rode east again. Still the rain poured down without mercy, collecting in pools between the rocks, running in streams all over. For an hour they rode, scarcely knowing where they were going, ever mindful of the trolls behind them. Then, immediately ahead of them, a huge shape loomed out from the dark and the wind and the rain. They all stopped short, making ready their weapons, prepared to make one last stand against the evil of Angmar.

But the shape did not move. Carefully Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn and Luinár rode ahead, staring at the immense form ahead. Then Luinár turned around and called back to the others.

"This is a wall, or a cliff of some sort! We cannot continue east! Where do we turn from here?"

"South," said Araquenval. "If we go north we would surely meet the trolls!"

They turned and rode south along the rock face. They had not gone a thousand feet before they saw a large crow perched above them on a short pinnacle rock, very wet but looking intently at them.

"A crow!" called Luinár. "A messenger of the Witch-King! Kill it, Bradlegar, before it has a chance to betray us!"

"Do you really want me to?" asked Bradlegar, never one to judge a creature on first sight.

"We have yet to meet a friendly crow or beast of any sort in Angmar!" Mîriel snapped. "Shoot it!"

The Hobbit had been riding all day with his bow strung and an arrow at the ready, and in moments he had raised it, aimed, and fired. It was a good shot that flew true to its mark, but the bird ably jumped into the air and let it pass underneath. It settled back down again on to the rock above them. Bells tied to its feet tinkled, and they could hear their sound even over the noise of the rain.

"Stupid, stupid humans," the crow squawked, making no effort to hide its irritation. "Don't shoot at me! Gaak! I show you the way, and you try to kill me! Gaak!"

"Thanks, Luinár!" snapped Bradlegar, himself upset that he had been talked into taking an action he had felt all along was wrong. Then to the crow he said, "Sorry. But in this land you learn to shoot first and ask questions later."

"Hm!" said the crow, still miffed. "You can explain that to Fael-Linnis when I take you to him. Gaak!"

"Who is Fael-Linnis?" asked Araquenval.

"Come through the rock wall," ordered the crow. And now they could see in the rock beneath the crow's feet the outlines of a trilithon: two upright standing stones capped with a third. They formed a doorway some five feet wide by ten high. Beyond it was complete blackness. "In!" urged the crow. "Into the portal!"

"Lead on," said Mîriel. The crow fluttered down from its perch to the ground, then hopped into the doorway. Despite the intense blackness of the space beyond, they could still see it and hear the bells on its feet. One by one they dismounted their horses and stepped through the door into the void.

The difference nearly defied description. One moment they were in the cold, grey, wet harshness of Angmar, and the next in a warm, green, and inviting forest. A stream bubbled from a natural spring and spilled down a gentle hill, its waters sparkling in the bright sunshine. Birds fluttered and sang to one another in the lush trees. Everyone breathed in deeply, and the air was moist and fragrant.

They looked behind them in wonder and saw the same rock face and the same trilithon. But on this side the rock seemed warm and friendly: vines and flowering plants cascaded down its face, and birds flew in and out of nests. But they did not have time to examine it further, for the crow was flying from branch to branch, leading them on.

"Crow, where are we?" asked Araquenval.

"Tanglewood Vale!" the crow replied. "You have come to the Tanglewood Vale of Fael-Linnis. Follow now!"

A winding path followed the stream downhill from the trilithon, and the group followed the crow as he led them. For the first time in many months Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn felt at ease, and as they walked he removed his armour and boots, and strolled barefoot along the path, dressed only in his loincloth. Bradlegar, too, once he had recovered from his initial surprise, let his hobbit-senses free to enjoy the land. But Bauglir wore an expression almost as dark as the clouds they had just left behind. He was muttering to himself, looking furtively around, as if he were convinced all his senses had suddenly started lying to him.

At length they came to a waterfall that dropped in stages and pools some thirty feet down to a broad meadow below. The path, too, wound its way down a cliff face to the meadow. By this path they descended, then beside a large pool at the bottom of the waterfall they walked out of the trees and on to the meadow. The stream shallowed and widened, flowing relaxed through grass. It was all well tended and well-ordered, and very beautiful. In the distance, on the north side of the river, Dennenor saw an unusual conical hill, blanketed softly in grass with a lone tree growing from the peak.

Now the crow took to the air, flying slowly before them, insistently urging them forward. Rhôn saw many flowers and plants growing in the meadow, even nephridil and elanor, and wondered how they could thrive in Angmar, if indeed this was still Angmar. The humans in the group felt completely refreshed, not feeling at all the interrupted sleep of the night before and the frightful storm they had just endured.

Nearly a mile from the meadow's edge a farm yard came into view, and in it two stone cottages with thatched roofs, and a small garden; the whole fenced with a neatly trimmed hedge. The stream ran along one side and a dock of wooden planks was set into it from the bank. A tall, thin man stood on the dock, but on seeing the group approach he smiled broadly and walked over to greet them. His skin and hair were as white as alabaster, and his eyes glowed so brightly they seemed to be but glittering points of light. A pair of gossamer wings, nearly transparent, grew from his back.

"Hello," said Araquenval. "Would you be Fael-Linnis?"

"Indeed I am," he replied, and his voice was light and musical. "Welcome to my valley. You have come to Nan Fastataurë, which in the Common tongue is Tanglewood Vale. This is my home. Long has it been since I have had visitors. But I do not think you are willing visitors, since it is I who has brought you here. But we can talk about this later."

"Are we in Angmar or elsewhere?" asked Araquenval.

Fael-Linnis laughed lightly. "Yes and no," was his reply.

The answer was not what Araquenval had expected, so he asked again. "If we leave here, would we still be in Angmar?"

"Yes, once you leave Nan Fastataurë you would again be in the Angmar as you know it."

Araquenval smiled. "I would be willing to stay here for many years!"

"Well, you will be staying a few days. But now you are weary. Come eat with me!"

As they walked to the cottage, Luinár asked Fael-Linnis, "Who are you?"

"I am Fael-Linnis. I ... am."

"Are you a Maiar?" asked Luinár.

"That's rather direct," he replied. "I am a servant of Yavanna, and I hold in high esteem Ermo. This is my realm, and you are welcome here."

Walking just behind them, Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn felt quietly proud of himself, having interpreted Mîriel's dream as successfully as he had done. Fael-Linnis led them across the grass and into the enclosed garden. A table was there, draped with a white cloth, and set with much food.

"I must apologize," said Fael-Linnis, "for it is not often I have visitors that I need to feed. So I am not sure what you want. I have bread and honey, also mead, wine, and water. Is there anything else you would like?"

"Would you have any cheese?" asked Luinár.

"Alas, not, for I do not husband animals. I take only what the Vale gives me."

"Also, is there a place where I could bathe?"

"Often I swim in the Laisiril, the River Greenwash in the tongues of mortals, but I also enjoy bathing in the pool I call Lin-Tasarë, which you would call the Willowmere. You are welcome to bathe there when and as often as you desire. Be not alarmed if you meet the Lady Falista there, for she often goes to the pool alone to rest and meditate."

"Thank you," said Luinár. "I also thank you for the food, but I feel I must wash before I partake." Then leaving behind her armour, but still carrying her sword, Luinár left the garden.

Luinár walked along the Greenwash to the Willowmere, and there sitting by the pool was a lady. Her skin the same alabaster white as Fael-Linnis's, but her hair was jet black. She was dressed in a simple, elegant white gown trimmed with a belt of lily pads. She looked deeply into the waters of the Willowmere, and to Luinár she seemed to be both very content and very sad.

"Hello, good lady," said Luinár.

Lady Falista looked up and smiled. "Welcome to Tanglewood Vale," she said. "I have heard from Fael-Linnis you and your friends would be coming. It is good to see travellers once again."

"We don't travel by our own choice." She looked about the bright green grove surrounding the clear Willowmere. "Lovely home you have here."

"Thank you. Fael-Linnis and I tend to it, and we are happy."

"Did you take the form of a white hart that my sister saw last night?"

"No, for I can take only my own form. Fael-Linnis can become another creature if he desires, but he cannot leave the valley." She sighed, and the smile disappeared from her face, but only for a moment. "I cannot leave either, but for other reasons."

"Is there any service I can offer?"

"Nay, for now we are helping you, and are greatly pleased to do so."

"Was the Vale here from beginning?"

Lady Falista thought for a moment, as though she were trying to count the years and ages. "Yes. It has been here since Fael-Linnis was here, and he has been here a very long time. Pray tell, what are the lands outside the Vale like now?"

"Very cold. The land is barren; there are rocks everywhere and no crops grow."

Falista sighed, as though saddened by the news. Perhaps she was hoping the lands beyond were blooming again, as she had remembered them so long ago. "Yes," she said, sadly, "others have said that."

Luinár held her sword high. "We are trying to ensure it does not remain so!"

Falista laughed brightly, and for the first time Luinár saw the radiant woman that was hidden deep within the Lady. "You are as daring as you are strong!" she said. "Now go ahead wash yourself. The waters are quite cool and refreshing."

Luinár removed her clothing and waded into the pool. Falista was right, the waters were wonderfully refreshing, much more so than Luinár could have even imagined. Somewhere in this time Falista quietly stole away, leaving Luinár to herself. She relaxed in the waters for half an hour, then left the pool and lay on the soft grass to dry off. Then she went to clothe herself again.

"I should have brought along a change of clothing with me!" she chastised herself. "Now I will have to wear these dirty things back to the cottage."

But the shirt felt soft to the touch as she picked it up, and stains that she knew should be there had disappeared. Carefully she held the fabric to her face: it smelled clean and fragrant. She dressed herself, and the clothes felt to her as though this was the first time she had ever put them on.

While Luinár rested at the Willowmere, the others remained at the cottage, enjoying the repast Fael-Linnis had prepared for them. The meal was wonderful. It was not merely the fact they had eaten little else but iron rations since their flight from the mine, and before that had endured the partly fare doled out to them in the pit: something about the food made it taste even better than they had ever remembered food tasting. Bradlegar noticed it did not deplete, though he ate much. Bauglir also took of the food and drink, but clearly did not enjoy them, disbelieving as he was of their surroundings.

Fael-Linnis appeared in the garden as they finished eating, and Araquenval took the opportunity to ask about a practical matter. "Can we leave seven of our horses with you? We do not want to take them again into Angmar, and this place seems ideally suited to them."

"Sorry, we should not do that," Fael-Linnis replied. "They are welcome here for a time, but after that they should leave once again. They are not native to here, and so they should not stay, just as none of you should stay for long."

"Where is white hind?" asked Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn.

"Right now it is across Laisiril, past the coranarindë, or sun round stones, perhaps in the Oak grove. I think I can see her there."

"Thank you," said Rhôn. "May I visit the hind?"

"Yes," said Fael-Linnis. "She would probably enjoy having a visitor." He looked about at the others. "There is still some time before sunset. Do any of you have something you would like to do before we return here and discuss the reasons I have called you here?"

"Yes," said Dennenor. "As we walked down the Laisiril to your farm, I noticed a hill that seemed to have a curious shape, as if it did not really belong here. I would like to see the hill at a closer distance."

Fael-Linnis agreed immediately to the Elf's request. "Certainly, you may go to the palantundo and walk about its base, but you should not climb it, for the hill is very magical. I will take you up there myself when the time is right."

Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn and Dennenor took their leave of Fael-Linnis. Araquenval and the others stayed behind. "Does the Witch-King have complete ignorance of this place," asked Araquenval, "or is there something that otherwise keeps him out?"

"Do not speak of such things now," Fael-Linnis replied. "We will talk about this later."

"Do you have a library?"

"No, I have no need for books, for all I know and need to remember I carry within me."

Now Araquenval produced the olorkorna. "What can you tell me about this?" he asked, showing it to Fael-Linnis.

For the first time in a very long time Fael-Linnis saw something to cause him wonder. "How came you by this?" he asked in amazement. "It has been lost for so long! Where did you find it?" He picked it up from Araquenval and examined it carefully, and the points of light that were his eyes danced and sparkled. "You do not realize what you have here! But you should keep it for now."

"Does it belong to you?"

"Perhaps once, but no more. I suspect it may have come to you for a purpose."

For his part, Bradlegar had quite enjoyed the meal, but now that things were quieter and he had had time to reflect on the events of the day, he became increasingly uneasy. Finally he approached his unearthly host, and as he addressed him there was a quaver in his voice.

"I'm--I'm sorry I shot an arrow at your crow," he stammered.

Fael-Linnis smiled kindly. "Do not trouble yourself. Wisewing can be grumpy at times, and speaks his mind, but he is good, like all that lives within Nan Fastataurë. You were right to think that many of the animals within the realm are spies for the evil one who rules it, and at first glance you cannot always tell who is friend or foe."

So came and went the afternoon. Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn quickly found the circle of standing stones south of the Willowmere, and west of them the Oak Grove. Here he saw the White Hind, and they passed the time playing an elaborate game of hide-and-seek within and around the grove. Then the hind disappeared, and Rhôn returned to the standing stones. He sat in the meadow outside the circle and there watched the sun slowly sinking into the west.

The afternoon slipped into evening, then the evening into sunset. Dennenor returned from his visit to the Seeing Mound. As the sun set, Fael-Linnis and the others (except Rhôn, who was still sitting in the meadow) stood beside the cottage to watch the close of the day. This appeared to be special time for Fael-Linnis, for he stood almost motionless watching the red orb of the sun slip beneath the rim of Tanglewood Vale. Everything around about them fell silent while the sun set, then as the stars began appearing crickets and frogs started singing their night-time melodies. But as a full moon rose, Bauglir cried out incredulously.

"This cannot be! The moon should not be full! Nay, it should be but a slender crescent in the sky, just out of new."

Fael-Linnis smiled at him, and in the dark the lights of his eyes shifted from white to pale blue. "Here in Nan Fastataurë the moon is always full, and supplies light for the evening hours until it sets and the Vale goes to sleep. But now, let us enter the cottage, where we can at last talk of things we earlier could not discuss."

He lead them to the cottage, and although it seemed small on the outside, inside it appeared much larger, but still comfortable. Lady Falista was there also, now dressed in a rich garment, and her hair done in a fine braid. About her head she wore a circlet of pearls. Both Mîriel and Luinár saw immediately she was of Dúnedain heritage, and Luinár addressed her with a formal greeting in Adûnaic. Falista started slightly, then looked at her and smiled. "I have not heard such a proper salutation in a very long time," she said.

"Neither have I, from my sister!" laughed Mîriel.

Luinár laughed also. "I may be a warrior, and wield a sword as well as any man of my stock, but I have been taught as lady of the West!"

They sat around the large fireplace, where a fire had been lit and crackled cheerfully. Bradlegar sat close, his bare feet upon the hearth, relishing the warmth. Rhôn-Hari-Rhôn had not joined them, but Fael-Linnis seemed not concerned for his absence.

"Now is the time for questions," he said. The light in his eyes was now a pale green. "You have been holding them back, but now you can ask freely."

"Are we in a pocket of time remote from our sense of present day Angmar?" asked Araquenval.

Fael-Linnis nodded. "That would be adequate explanation. You are outside of time, at least from your own time. As though in a bubble." He reflected a moment. "Although often I do not know if I am inside the bubble or out. But my lands are smaller now than they once were."

Dennenor asked the next question. "Have you been watching us on our journey? Did you set up the events that let us escape from the mine?"

"I do not have that amount of influence. I have influence within my borders, but none at all without."

"When did you first take notice of us?" asked Luinár.

"One night on the palantundo, the Seeing Mound, when I was gazing into the olorondo, or the Seeming Stone. I can see much, but agonizingly can do very little. I saw your faces. Then I willed the olorondo to show you, although it was very difficult. I watched your progress south, and saw with growing alarm the ever-increasing forces sent to find and destroy you. The White Hind was the first contact I had with you, but at great risk to the hind, for I cannot leave here myself, nor can my magic leave, without being noticed."

"What did you see the first time?" asked Luinár.

"You were walking through snows. A blizzard, or something similar. I saw much snow, and you were huddled together inside a tent."

"That was before we found the olorkorna," mused Dennenor.

"Perhaps you should know our tale from the beginning," said Mîriel. And she spoke the chronicle of their adventure: their imprisonment and escape from the slate mine; their battles with Orcs, Easterlings, and the snow. She told of the Sparkling Cavern, Luinár's fall that broke her leg, the finding of the olorkorna, and Araquenval's experiment with Maz-Hur. She related the battle where they took the tower and their attempt to destroy the black book they found there. Finally she spoke of their flight across the river and their clashes with Orcs, Black Rangers, and the Witch-King's bodyguards. Both Fael-Linnis and Lady Falista listened with great attention, and neither interrupted Mîriel in her telling of the story.

When Mîriel finished, Fael-Linnis spoke. "You are most fortunate to have made it this far. I have seen more than you of the larger search, and of the machinations of the Witch-King. Many are the troops he has hunting for you. You might well not have survived another day had I not brought you here and hidden you. And I must keep you here for some time until danger passes. The gate through which you came is not visible to evil eyes. And it is ironic, perhaps, that the Witch-King himself aided you in your escape, for it was he who sent the storm that obscured your tracks."

Despite the grave stories that had just been told, Mîriel laughed. "I would not want to be the one in charge of the search party, nor one of those hapless tracker Orcs trying to explaining to the trolls how the trail just vanished into a cliff face!"

They all laughed briefly, then Dennenor asked, "Can you tell if he who rules Angmar has taken a personal interest in the case?"

"I can divine little of Dark One's mind," said Fael-Linnis, "and the olorondo does not let me see other's minds. But someone has obviously taken note of either you or your wake as you moved through Angmar."

Araquenval was troubled. "I am afraid if we leave we may divulge your existence to the Witch-King."

"Worry not about that. You cannot tell an evil being of this place--your tongues will not let you. There is a bending of the air about this place that bewilders trackers. Those whom I do not wish to find my home just walk away."

"Tell me more about the olorkorna," said Araquenval.

"That tale is for tomorrow," replied Fael-Linnis. "For tonight, I shall tell you about myself, and about the Vale."

"My name is Fael-Linnis, and I am a servant of Yavanna and a friend of Ermo. I have been here since the time of the creation. Powers I have to manipulate the lands about me, to make them natural, though all I do is within Yavanna's vision. All the animals here can communicate at will when they feel they have something of interest to say.

"You came into Nan Fastataurë through its only gate, followed the Laisiril to the Hiswalanta, or the Misty Falls, and from there came to my residence. The coranarindë, or sun round stones, help me track the passage of time, for aside from that I feel it not, although I find it interesting to mind the heavens. The palantundo is where I go to watch the olorondo, and it was there that I first saw you. Tomorrow I shall take you there.

"Now I shall tell you of Falista. Long ago, before the end of Arnor, the lands about were not as now. After creation and the coming of men, the lands were tilled, and crops were planted and harvested, and it was home to many people. The winters were not so cold, nor the summers so harsh; but were more as Northern Arthedain is now: chill in winter, warm and fertile in summer. That which you now call the Angsiril was once a good river, and life thrived all along its banks.

"And in that land a maiden named Falista lived, in a town that exists no longer. As a young girl she wandered one day into my realm, the only human ever to come here without my knowing it and giving leave to enter. I used a bit of my magic to lead her out again without her suspecting me. But she returned frequently to wash her feet in the waters of the Laisiril, although she could not tell others of this place.

"Then her visits ceased, and I believed she had outgrown the curiosity of human children. But she came back one day, now a young woman, and a remarkably beautiful one. And I fell in love with her, despite my knowledge that I was immortal and she was not. So at last I revealed myself to her, spoke to her of my love, and asked her to stay. And she did, and she was happy, until she realized she could not leave, for she would lose her youth if she ever steps beyond the Vale."

Falista sighed heavily, and Luinár saw within her a great sadness and longing, almost more than the lady could bear. "It is very lovely here," said Falista, "but it never changes. Unlike kind Fael-Linnis, who is content within his realm, I long for challenges, and I share his desire to be outside here fighting the darkness that grows ever deeper.

"At times it seems like only yesterday that I left my mother, father, and everyone else I held so dear. It is so hard to think they are now all gone, and the land and village also, all dead and turned to dust." She sighed again, then tried to hide her sadness with a wan smile.

The wings on the back of Fael-Linnis drooped, and he spoke. His voice echoed shades of the sadness in Falista's. "Truly I feel sad about this. Given the chance, I would not do the same again."

"And now I shall tell you why I have brought you here. A great peril has come upon the lands of the North, far greater than the Witch-King or his designs. Have you not noticed the winters are colder, and the summers less green? Something is wrong in the land. This spring, especially, seems to be very cold. And I know why.

"The olorondo showed me one night the Two Lamps that lit all of Arda so very long ago. And I saw also the Great Enemy, who hated the light, and who destroyed the Lamps by smashing them against the mountains. All creation was disrupted, for the Lamps had been shattered and all light gone out of Arda. But then the olorondo showed me a wondrous and grievous sight, for I saw that not all traces of the Lamps had vanished. One shard existed still, buried deep within the mountains. And the Witch-King saw it also, for he is very perceptive, being one of the nine Nazgûl."

Bradlegar interrupted Fael-Linnis. "What are ... Nazgûl?" he asked.

Fael-Linnis shuddered visibly. "The Nazgûl are the black riders, the nine fallen human princes who were given Rings of Power during the second age of the Sun. I thought they had vanished, but they appear to have risen again. The Witch-King is the Captain of the Nine. He was once Prince Murizor of Númenór, and he has come into knowledge of this Shard. He burrowed deep into the roots of the ancient mountains and found it, and it still blazed with the ancient light.

"I call it gaiakara, the Awful Shard, for the Witch-King has taken it for himself and corrupted it. Now it is evil, and every year becomes colder: and the Witch-King makes the world colder by the power of the Shard. He keeps it safe in a fortress near to Arthedain, for it is his desire to entomb that land in eternal winter. He cares not for the lives and comfort of his armies and minions. No, he looks far ahead. His armies are there to burn and destroy and kill, but the Shard is there to bring eternal cold and dark."

Everyone sat in silence for a time, contemplating on the revelation Fael-Linnis had just given them. At length Araquenval spoke. "Can the Shard be destroyed?" he asked.

"I do not know what can be done," replied Fael-Linnis. "The Shard is kept in a mountain of dreadful repute somewhere in the Misty Mountains of Angmar. But it is crucial this knowledge be taken to those who can contemplate on it - perhaps Rivendell."

"Will you write a message for us to deliver there?" asked Mîriel.

"Yes, I could do that."

"You speak of Imladris as though you know it," said Dennenor, "But I grew up there and lived there for many years of men. How is it, then, that I have not heard of you, or even a rumour of Nan Fastataurë?"

"I cannot leave here. Once I roamed wide and free, but since coming of Man I set up borders to keep out the world outside from encroaching in."

"Would Elrond know of you?" asked Dennenor.

"Perhaps, but I was confined to my realm by the time Elrond came into being."

"Indeed, and there lies my concern. For even if you were to write a message that we would bear to Imladris, but Elrond knows not of you, it may appear to him that the message is on our authority alone, and not yours."

"Do you know Glorfindel, Escarnol, or Gildor?" asked Feal-Linnis.

"Yes," replied Dennenor. "Often I have seen and talked with them."

"And all three have come here and visited with me, although it has been a hundred turnings of the seasons since last I saw them. It was Gildor who last graced the vale with his presence."

"That is good. If the three great warriors of Imladris know of this place, doubtless Elrond knows also.'

Then Fael-Linnis looked at each one in turn. "I will write the message, and you will deliver it to Elrond. The danger to the world is very great. You may be able to turn back the tide of Orcs, Trolls, and evil Humans, but that is but a part of the Witch-King's plans. It is his greater purpose to grind your cities and civilizations to dust under a blanket of eternal winter."

"We will take this as our quest," said Araquenval.

But Bradlegar was not quite as enthusiastic. "You Elves my want to go running off on glorious quests to save the world, but I'm just a Hobbit. This sort adventure's just not my style!"

"Nevertheless," said Fael-Linnis, "it has been given to you. You cannot remain here, and Rivendell is the safest place to head for on the way to your home."

"It is my country that the Witch-King wishes to destroy!" declared Mîriel. "I will do what is required to foil his plans."

"And I likewise," rejoined her sister.

Then Luinár looked at their host. "Fael-Linnis, I would speak with you, in private."

Fael-Linnis's eyes flashed briefly. "You need not keep secrets," he said, "but I will speak with you privately, so long as the others are not bothered by your need for secrecy."

Luinár merely shrugged. While Lady Falista entertained the others with tales of the valley and its inhabitants, Fael-Linnis and Luinár stepped outside the cottage. The moon was now low and the stars shone brilliantly in the velvet sky. Fael-Linnis gazed at Luinár, and the light of his eyes bore a subtle shade of red.

"Good Lord Fael-Linnis," Luinár began, "though you be powerful and goodly, you are unjust."

"How so?"

"The Lady Falista is much deserving of your love, but what you have done to her is unjust."

Fael-Linnis looked kindly at his accuser. "Yes, I realise that now, but there is naught that I can do. Lady Falista cannot return to her world, for she has no world to return to, and would immediately perish if she made the attempt."

"But there is something you can do."

"What are suggesting?"

"Provide her with children," said Luinár. "She hides her sadness well, perhaps too well, or perhaps you do not notice it. But I saw her sadness today, and it is very deep. Had she children, she would have something to do, and a better reason to live."

"Do not think we have not discussed this," Fael-Linnis replied, "for we have indeed talked about it more than once in the past. But such a thing would be special, for it would require the blessing of Yavanna herself. And I am not certain Yavanna sees right to grant such a request at this time."

"Why not ask, or adopt?"

"To adopt would a be mistake I pledged I would not repeat. We are outside of time here: nothing changes or ages. Were we to bring a human or Elven child into this place, it would stay forever a child, never growing nor maturing, never realizing its full potential. I could never allow that. As for having a child with Falista, I would need to wait on Yavanna's good favour for that."

"If you truly love her," urged Luinár, "you would do this for her."

"I understand. The next time I speak with Yavanna I will request this. But for now, let us speak no more upon this matter, and join the company inside."

They returned to the comfortable surroundings of the cottage, where Fael-Linnis entertained his guests with more stories. Some were of the Vale and some were of the world outside; many came from the distant past, of which Fael-Linnis spoke as if it was yesterday, and some were of events that were happening even as he talked. Bradlegar missed most of them, though, for he had fallen asleep in his chair while Fael-Linnis was outside talking with Luinár.

At long last Fael-Linnis said, "While I have many tales to tell, I see it is time for the mortals to take their rest. The Halfling is already asleep. We will have many more nights in which to relate our stories, for your stay here will be measured in weeks rather than days."

"Indeed," said Dennenor. "The Witch-King will continue the hunt for at least three days more, perhaps even a week."

"And it will probably take two weeks for him to call off the search altogether," Mîriel added. "And after three weeks, things will more or less have returned to normal. At the very least, he won't be seeing any of the strange happenings that we left in our wake during our trek across his land!"

Gently Luinár picked up the sleeping Hobbit and carried him to a bed Falista had laid out for him, then she, Mîriel, and Bauglir went to bed also. The party spent a completely peaceful night, the first in a long time they were able to rest without watches. Rhôn slept outside in the meadow, and the Elves stayed up the entire night, sitting outside and marvelling at the brightness of the stars over Nan Fastataurë.

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Based on events played to July 22, 1997. Accesses since September 30, 1998: