That sorceress be damned! Arandil thought, tightening his fists. I swear, I'll slit her throat myself!

Looking at Eirianna, helpless to what had befallen her, yet still strong, gradually eased the anger out of Arandil. The ranger released his fists and approached the elf. He held her arm with one hand and her back with the other, and gently lift her onto her feet.

"I am sorry, m'lady, but if we do not move soon I fear what the night might bring upon us."

"I feel this malady will in time pass, my friends," she said, now ranging her face back and forth to include all who were yet present with her. "And I thank you for your concerns... as well as for your keen accuity. Indeed, something wicked this way comes; hurry. I can direct us toward that spot within Wydde's Woods where I find succor from life's woes. Please, your assistance once again."

With that she held out her hand, waiting until Arandil understood her meaning and assisted her astride the back of the stamping Gorfynt. Firmly seated, and threw back her hair.

"Mount quickly, and let us make haste to that place of which I have spoken. Perhaps within the safety of it's hidden bower we might find a means to battle that which seems to have been laid before us...."

And to make recompense for my own terrible misuse of my abilities, the thought continued, although she did not speak the words aloud. They were still too painful; far easier for the time being to let these particular sleeping dogs lay, and find shelter from the coming evil. Only then would she perhaps find the strength she needed to face her own foibles...

And here's a living, breathing one here...right in front of me...

There was a horn blast in the distance, sounding the new morning upon Minas Tirith. Ulfhak finally took his eyes away to face the direction the sound came from.

"I could take this city in days." he spoke to the sorceress, his new master until the Dark Lord returns. "It will be awhile before my army arrives, but as soon as its here, this city will fall in half an hour."

But I cannot wait any longer.

After an hour's ride, Gorfynt slowly galloped to a stop. It was a small, clear area of the forest. There was a strange calmness in the air; there were no animal sounds, not even crickets, yet Arandil can still sense life around them...moving...breathing...

After he helped Eirianna off her horse, Arandil unrolled his knapsack upon the ground. As soon as he was finished he looked back at the elf, who was turned away and seemed to be staring off into the forest.

"M'lady...it has been a long day of sorrow for all of us. And though it pains me to say it, I must ask of you..."

"What could possibly be taking so long...?" Eridan, the ruler of the kingdom of Gondor, muttered under his breath. He had been pacing back and forth in his chambers all day, waiting for the call of the one who had aided in his rise to power.

Eridan made repeated glances towards the open window, expecting the visage of his ally. But he has not come, yet the Steward could feel something creeping closer and closer...

"M'lord!" someone shouted, followed by several knocks outside his doors. The Steward, agitated by this sudden disturbance, swiftly threw the doors open and found himself facing one of his guards who quickly fell onto one knee.

"What do you want?" he snarled. "I thought it was clear that I do not want to be disturbed..."

The young man stood up, red-faced and breathing hard. "M-my apologies, my lord. I was sent to bring you ill news."

Eridan felt a shiver run down his spine. Ill news...why hasn't he warned him about this? "What is it?"

"We found some surviving Taunderon guards. They have made it clear t-that...the...the Elves were the attackers."

No expression on Eridan's face. He simply stared and waited for the guard to continue.

"Well, m'lord, several of your generals are calling for...for war against the Elves. But there are still men who say that there are other options."

That is when he came. A wind blew through the window as he pierced the mind of the old man, whispering evil intent and orders as to what to do...

Eridan blinked and shook his head abruptly. When he looked back, the guard saw that his face was twisted with anger, something he had never seen before...

"No, no. NO!" he shouted, causing the guard to step back. "There ARE no other options! The Elves...they...they attack our friends, our brothers in Taunderon. They have killed their king with a cowardly blow, and slaughtered his people afterwards. They will do the same to us, to every Kingdom of Man here!"

"And do you know why, soldier? I know...they fear us. They fear what Man has become; a force to be reckoned with in Middle Earth. After all, it was we who held the forces of Mordor at bay! It was we who banished Sauron from this realm! We, who have spilt our blood defending the realm of the Elves! We, who fought the barbarians of the north and south!"

"And it shall be us who will drive the Elves from their homes, burn their forests to ash, sack their cities and poison the rivers with their blood! Nay, I say to the cowards I call generals! The Elves were the first to bring this war and Man will be one to finish it!"

Eridan stepped forward suddenly and placed his hands on the guard's shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. "I want envoys sent to the other kings. They are to be informed that Gondor is mobilizing for war against the Elves, and I...we expect their full support. I will find a way to deal with the generals who think war is not the right choice."

The guard nodded, fear in his eyes which stayed even as he stepped away and walked down the hallway. Eridan turned back to his room and closed the doors.

"I've done what you ask. But without the other generals, we will fail in this war. We need to find a way to encourage them, the people, and the other kings to do battle with the Elf folk. What?" Eridan stared at the open window.

"You've already made arrangements? But how...yes your right. It must be kept secret...I will wait for your aid again..."

In the taking of his brother....

She turned to face him, although she could not see. For a moment she groped out with one hand seeking his shoulder, perhaps to maintain her balance, perhaps for the mere warmth of assured companionship. She found it, laid strong fingers there and squeezed.

"Your brother..." she trailed off in a contemplative manner. Then--

"I am shamed to say this, but I do not know. However, there is that here which may reveal to you what it is you seek."

Oh, how she hoped what he sought would not take him from her side. For much evil had been set afoot... and there was much indeed she had to make right again; she might be the powerful Daughter of the Moon, but she was not so arrogant to think she could travel from hereon alone.

Again she jerked herself from her momentary reverie, turned blinded yet still brilliant eyes up toward the place where she sensed Arandil's face was.

"Come," she said in a musical whisper. "Seek with me the One With White Hands, the Old One of the forest grove, for within the bowels of his roots there may be the answer you seek."

"I don't understand..." he said quietly, but by then Eirianna wasn't even facing him. She was again staring ahead into the forest, at something the ranger could not see.

Hoping to figure out what it was, Arandil looked off in the same direction, scanning the trees in front. Everything looked the same save for one tree, the closest one to them.

Compared to the others, this tree stood out as if it did not belong there. It was much skinnier than the rest, the bark had a darker color to it, and it looked like it was growing out of two different spots...

Could that...no...

Arandil opened his mouth to say something, but the tree shuddered suddenly and its two main branches extended upwards like arms stretching out. Then the ranger saw two holes in the tree open up into a yellow glow, and realized that they were eyes.

I don't believe it! It's an Ent!

Utterly surprised by this new discovery, he hadn't even thought about reaching for his sword as the creature yanked its feet out of the ground and took a single step forward. The Ent leaned over slightly at the group, as if it was trying to get a better view.

"Daughter of the Moon..." it said slowly with a voice that was neither intimidating or calm. Rather, it sounded curious. "I still remember you..."

"But you..."

The Ent pointed at Arandil, and its brow made of bark furrowed in suspicion. "I do not."

The ranger, still in a state of shock, found it a little difficult to form words to respond. "Ah...uh...erm...I...I am Arandil, son of Arungvir."

The Ent retracted its hand, but its face still had a look of uncertainty. "Arungvir...Numenorean, is it not?"

Arandil nodded. "We have come here to seek your wisdom, uh, Old One of the forest grove."

"Wise one, I had not the wisdom to see," she began, faltering. "I rushed in when I should have crept, I misused that to which I am heir."

She paused as though studying the ground before her, even though she could not see it.

"I have fallen before the wiles of the sorceress, Adra Slavonik. I have brought war between Mankind and the Elven upon Middle Earth, and for this great error my vision has been taken from me."

She stumbled to quiet then, those unseeing eyes suddenly filled with visions of great floodwaters, of the brilliance of the moon in its fullness, of myriad bodies lying mute in death. Now those images wavered as though she was actually viewing them through her tears.

All because of her doing.

For a moment she paused, if for nothing but effect. "This is a stealthy game which we play my friend; it would be utterly foolish to take this city by force. Instead we ride to tell them of the fall of Taunderon, and especially of how it fell. We shall offer our... assistance in protecting their own kingdom from the same travesty and then...

...we ride at once for Isenguard to..."

Here she paused again, making invisible quotation marks with her pointer and middle fingers, "... make assurances that the kingdom of man is well protected. Come now, as the morning begins in Tirith; they shall have visitors with a most grave and dreadful warning this morn."

Saying nothing more than this, the Sorceress then turned in one smooth motion and proceeded directly to the main gates of Tirith in all haste, leaving Ubel to cleave to the shadows caste by the gates of the kingdom. When she arrived at those very gates, Ulfhak no doubt behind her, she was met by gaurds who regarded she and her company in suspicion.

"I am the Sorceress of Taunderon, and I come with grave warning for your King. I pray you let me speak to him immediately. It is urgent, for the welfare of your peoples and for that of mankind."

Then, the move swift and smooth, Adra reached up a hand to remove the hood of her midnight blue cloak, allowing her flowing black hair to fall like the night about her shoulders and sending a pleading blue-eyed look towards the guards. "Please..."

For a long moment, not a word was spoken, but finally a guardsmen spoke up, his bass voice booming. "Very well," he spoke, looking she and Ulfhak over. "But he must leave his weapons outside the castle."

Adra looked to Ulfhak, and before he could so much as say a word she spoke up for him. "As you wish it," she replied.

"Then follow me," he said succintly as the kingdom gates were opened and a small band of guardsmen surrounded the visitors. "This way..."

But if she is following the will of Sauron, then I must heed her commands.

Before passing through, however, Ulfhak turned back slightly and threw his sword carelessly into the field beyond. The orc then turned to the human guards and thumped his chest at them.

"S-Sorry, my lord." he stuttered, trying to avoid his master's anger. "I-It is an e-emergency. T-Two s-strangers have come. One of them is an o-orc, and the other is a human."

Eridan blinked, then swiftly opened up the doors of the throne room. The move and the noise spooked the messenger a bit as he took a step back.

Yes...yes! the Steward thought, They must be the ones he sent! I must see them immediately...

"Go fetch them, servant, and bring them to the throne room. I will be waiting."

The messenger nodded and scurried off.

It was not long before a pale-skinned woman and an ugly orc by her side entered the room. Eridan rested on the throne, calmly awaiting their arrival.

The doors soon closed behind the two strangers.

"My servants have informed me you have come with a warning from Taunderon. Tell me, what else has happened to our friends there aside from the news that Elves had attacked and decimated the populace, hmm?"

"Tell me where your leader is, bandit." It was more an order than a question. The man trembling with fright and loss of blood was too dumbfounded to answer. That, or he was already near death. Shadowhand plunged his sword into the man's head to make sure he was dead.

Suddenly an arrow flew forth from behind a tree and struck Shadowhand in the shoulder. Shadowhand could sense the injury but felt no pain. Imediately, his attacker sprang forth from the tree with a sword in hand.

Shadowhand was quick to deflect his blow and then literally disarm his attacker in one downward stroke.

He reconised the man's face. Yes, here was the Bandits' leader. Shadowhand allowed the amn to pass out from the pain, then he tied him up bandaged his severed arm and placed him on his horse. He would get a handsome reward when he brought the Bandit leader to Minas Tirth.

Shadowhand got onto the horse, made sure that his prisonner was securly bound and gagged, then he rode off toward Minas Tirth.

His fist rose and slammed hard on the arm rest, the echoes of such a blow drowned only by the screaming follow. "DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A FOOL?!"

Eridan was standing now, his face red and his hands still clenched into fists. "Do you truly believe Gondor trusts its allies so well that we would blind ourselves from the threat each kingdom poses? That we would ignore the vast armies ready to invade our lands?"

"I have eyes and ears in every castle and every village controlled by Man. I had rangers observing Taunderon from afar, when elves struck its fort head on and crushed its garrison." Eridan glanced at the orc standing next to the woman. "A garrison that included humans and goblins."

A sudden chilling wind blew into the throne room, from a window that has never been closed in months. The Steward stared at it as he continued. "And I have other...agents as well." He turned back to his 'guests'.

There he was, the captain of the guard.
"Here is your bandit lord bound and gagged as you stated in your request." Said Shadowhand.
"I stated that he be brought back alive," replied the captain, "fine, here is 10 silver pieces."

Shadowhand felt betrayed. The reward was meant to be 100 silver pieces.
they have lied to you. You deserve more than this. Kill them, take your sword and kill them
It was the voice again. Shadowhand heard it ever since.......ever since the curse. It was this voice that gave him such a bloodlust that he had leveled the entire bandit camp and left none alive.

Trying his best to ignore the voice, Shadowhand said, "I deserve more than this."

"You should consider yourself lucky that I even paid you, filthy mongrel." shouted the captain.

Shadowhand could feel his palm grip his sword, wanting as if it had a mind of its own , to pull it out and strike the captain down.Do it......kill him....

The voice was too much, he had to obey. Shadowhand drew his sword and swung it.......into the corpse of the bandit lord. The captain looked on in shock. Shadowhand was relieved that he had managed to prevent himself from killing the captain.

"Cry not, Daughter of the Moon," its voice boomed, "For all is not lost. Indeed, you cannot heal what has already been reaped but hope still lies in the path ahead. For you are still strong..." Then it took its gaze to Arandil. "And you have loyal allies. Tell me Arandil son of Arungvir, what of my wisdom do you seek? The history of your people? The long forgotten prophecies?"

"My brother," Arandil started, looking back to the creature. "I wish to know his fate."

It was then that the One With White Hands was taken back, as if some invisible force had stretched out and struck it. The Ent recovered slowly and bowed his head...

When the city of the White Tree falls,

And the leaders of Men submit to darkness,

The King will rise once more,

Before his war with the Dark One,

In the last battle of Mordor.

At that, the Ent lifted his head and smiled. "A short poem, of a much larger journey." Suddenly, it took a step back into the forest, and the roots that make up its feet began to dig into the earth.

Arandil stood up, shaking his head in confusion. "I don't understand! What about my brother?"

Surprisingly, it never came.

She jerked her face upward now, sensing that the One With White Hands had departed from their company, sensing likewise the confusion now rising within her companion, mixed with not a little despair. Her slender white hand groped about for a bit before finding a perch upon his shoulder, where it alighted and squeezed.

"Perhaps the road to a kingdom is marched by one other than expected, my friend," she said softly, understanding the implications within the mysterious poem. "It is bound to be a dark and thorny path as well; how I wish--"

She stopped, understanding that she could not go to her father seeking his elven warriors, for that would only substantiate what the Kingdoms of Man already suspicioned.

"Are we in this alone?"

She really didn't know if that question was directed to Arandil or to the Fates of Middle Earth in general. All she knew was that the road she spoke of was going to be difficult to travel, especially since they were now merely two.

"Thank you for remaining with me, Arandil," she said suddenly. "I shall remain with you, for I feel you are my only hope of making right the immense wrong I have committed." Then she quieted, giving his shoulder another squeeze, and let her head drop downward once again as though scrutinizing the forest floor.

It hit her with avalanche force, a shining and supernaturally clear vision floating before her blinded eyes. The Steward of Gondor, speaking with the Orc....

As well as with the Sorceress.

Eirianna's lips fell open and she jerked her head up once again, her fingers digging into Arandil's muscled shoulder.

"It is She, with her evil Orc Commander. The speak with those in Gondor... the war is being taken to a new level."

If the Sorceress intends to rally the forces of Men against us, then there is only one way to stop her...

Albioth smiled, watching the scene had provided him much amusement. An ent, an elven lady, and a man. What interesting company many people keep these days.

"It will be a very difficult road to walk to reclaim that throne, and even still as soon as you sit upon the stone it stands carved of, you will be beset by the vultures of your kind, the carrion birds that would seek to turn you into little more than their rotting corpse of a pawn."

He slid from the tree he had sat in, and came to the ground roughly, for it had been a distance he was not used too. It just shows how long I've been stuck in those crude streets of the humans.

"I hope in time m'lady you shall trust me. I have not proven myself in battle nor politics, but pray I may prove my strong heart."

A figure had appeared, as he walked towards the ensuing battle, his rugged clothes would offer little protection in a fight. His sword was all he could give for justice.

"I am here to offer my services in protection. I will help you."

As the orc came running forth he turned at once with a strong stroke knoced the orc's axe from his hand with the ensuing motion the stab ended the warrior's life as the orc lay dead unbreathing now.

Miguel looked towards the group hoping to offer a promising smile them.

"My name is Miguel Tahel."