The firelight danced upon the walls, the smoke was sweet, and Coryell entered the Hall, his hands upon his breast. His steps were measured, his face towards the high ceiling as he hummed to himself. He was crafting a verse and needed this place for inspiration. As he strode towards the center his ear caught the soft uttering of another in this empty sanctuary. His eye caught a hunched figure, holding a pipe, silhouetted by the dim light: Angbor!
Coryell walked to Angbor’s side, there he joined his voice with Angbor’s song. In time they softely sang, Angbor unaware of the other. Then he stumbled, the music gone. Angbor looked up, eyes widened, then his mouth.
“Lord Coryell!” He grasped the elf, Coryell returned the embrace.
“Angbor, it has been ages since you have been here.” Coryell gave a long look upon the Ranger’s face.
“Yes, and I am now trying to put my last year into words, but the end eludes me.”
“I would be grateful to help you, if you would.” Coryell offered an open hand.
Angbor placed his hand upon his chest, “I would be honored. Let me sing what I have at the moment.”
With closed eyes Coryell heard the man’s melody, and story. It was a long year, full of danger, and ending abruptly.
“See I cannot craft the lines I would like for the last part of my year. For I heard of a boy in Bree who had found a relic of old.”
“Let me think.” Coryell shut his eyes and thought.
***
“Friend Saeros.” The soft crackly voice beckoned of Loremast Orthal greeted him, “I am so glad to see you at this festival.”
“And you as well Loremaster Orthal.” Saeros bowed slightly to the side.
“I have been busy with the item you brought back from the Whispering Halls.” Light glinted in the old Elf’s eyes.
“Indeed. Nimloth’s shield no doubt has many stories to tell.”
“Oh, it does. Please, I know there are festivities about, but I would share with you what I found. I figured you of all those here would love to know about it, seeing as how it is from around your homeland.” Orthal motioned towards the exit.
“I would.” Saeros motioned that he would follow.
They walked quietly under the stars, into another building, up stairs, down a hall, through a door, through another door, into a large chamber full of books, scrolls, eye glasses, half scribble notes, and a large table with the shield resting upon it.
“You have done a magnificent job of cleaning it up. The runes alone are like a song.” Saeros gingerly touched the rim of the round shield, brushing the ruins thereupon.
“Thank you friend. But all my powers cannot clean it completely.” Orthal frowned.
“Why is that?”
“The shadow lies upon this relic.” Orthal patted the shield.
“Must such a thing of beauty be destroyed?” Saeros’ winced.
“Fortunately not, I think. I have known the shadow tainted this item for some time. So I have researched it deeply to determine how to heal it. Look at the jewels, can you tell me where they came from?” Orthal beckoned Saeros.
Saeros ran his finger along one of the jewels, he bent over to look into the jewel, he closed his eyes, “I say Moria.”
“Indeed! And you claim to be a mere warden. I told your mother when you were born, you were a loremaster at heart!” Orthal clapped his hands together.
“Now a harder question: can you tell when they were pulled from the soil?”
Saeros paused for a moment, “September.”
“Close. May. Not a loremaster yet.” Orthal covered a slight smile with his hand, “I have determined that if someone can hold the shield in the crisp may morning sun, the light will purify this shield and make it a weapon useful to the Fair Folk.”
“So we can just wait till may and hold it up.”
“No, Saeros, not here. Upon the Caradhras, there the sun, it is purest, will heal this relic.”
“Then to the Mountain we shall go.”
Coryellantë
A New Star Sighted
The trip south was long, but for the most part free of any hazards. Once a pack of wolves seemed to follow the duo as they made their way across the Lone Lands, but with a quick wit Coryell led the fellows in a way that hid them from any prying eyes.
Arriving at the base of the Caradhras in late April, they contemplated their ascent. It would be no small matter, for while there was a path, it was not easy. For the path was not often taken, and so was not clear of brush and bramble. Besides this the path was steep.
“And there is the Man to contend with.” Coreyll cupped his hand to his brow and looked up at the Peak.
“There is no such thing, it is but the travails of traveling so far up in the sky, Lord Coryell. We are too near the stars.” Saeros smiled slightly.
Debates like this raged among those who lived under the Redhorn Gate’s shadow, and Saeros was no stranger to them. As a child he had heard the debates, everyone of them, and now used them as tools of wit and jest whenever the subject was brought up. Coryell glanced back at Saeros and shrugged slightly.
“We should be able to make it up to the top in a day or two at the best. We will start on the morrow if that seems good to you Friend Saeros?” Saeros nodded and bowed slightly. They sat about making camp and soon a small fire crackled, and the starlight blanketed the daylight.
The two talked quietly, sang, and stared deeply into the deep velvet sky.
“What is that!” Saeros rose and pointed to the sky.
Coryell looked, “It is a new star. But how?”
They fell silent for it was a bright star.
“It is the Star River. It was last seen at the turning of the age. We must be close to another turn in the Ages.” Coryell spoke softly.
They bowed to the star and meditated upon it the rest of the night.
Arriving at the base of the Caradhras in late April, they contemplated their ascent. It would be no small matter, for while there was a path, it was not easy. For the path was not often taken, and so was not clear of brush and bramble. Besides this the path was steep.
“And there is the Man to contend with.” Coreyll cupped his hand to his brow and looked up at the Peak.
“There is no such thing, it is but the travails of traveling so far up in the sky, Lord Coryell. We are too near the stars.” Saeros smiled slightly.
Debates like this raged among those who lived under the Redhorn Gate’s shadow, and Saeros was no stranger to them. As a child he had heard the debates, everyone of them, and now used them as tools of wit and jest whenever the subject was brought up. Coryell glanced back at Saeros and shrugged slightly.
“We should be able to make it up to the top in a day or two at the best. We will start on the morrow if that seems good to you Friend Saeros?” Saeros nodded and bowed slightly. They sat about making camp and soon a small fire crackled, and the starlight blanketed the daylight.
The two talked quietly, sang, and stared deeply into the deep velvet sky.
“What is that!” Saeros rose and pointed to the sky.
Coryell looked, “It is a new star. But how?”
They fell silent for it was a bright star.
“It is the Star River. It was last seen at the turning of the age. We must be close to another turn in the Ages.” Coryell spoke softly.
They bowed to the star and meditated upon it the rest of the night.
Red Horn Gate
The morning sun was bright, the clouds high, and the mountain pass higher. With grace the two elves ascended the summit, carefully choosing their way. Saeros stooped.
“These look like orc tracks.” His finger ran along a path from mud to dry dirt.
“Are they fresh?” Coryell placed his hand upon his weapon, and scanned the horizon.
“No, I don’t think so. But it is not surprising to find them here at any rate. I would have been more surprised to not see any.” Saeros rubbed the dirt with the tip of his finger.
“Good, we should press on then.”
They camped that night, very near the Red Horn Gate, the point chosen for its height. There the May Morning Light would cast the corruption from Nimloth’s shield. The next day they found the fur of wargs along the track. Again Saeros commented that he was not surprised. Orc and warg were not a surprising mixture.
Very early, before sunrise, the two elves found a clearing, and saying a few words of blessing upon Nimloth’s shield, they prepared to bathe it in the sunrise. As they sun crept towards the horizon Saeros held the shield and hefted it above his head. A soft growl rolled from behind them. Coryell twisted and unsheathed his sword, it bit into the side of a wolf.
Three more emerged from the thickets.
“Do not put down the shield, I shall fend them off!” Coryell swung again, but another bull rushed him; knocking him off balance.
“No! We must stand against them together.” Saeros sat the shield against a rock, clutched his spear and thrust into battle.
The wolves bit, Saeros stabbed. The wolves snipped, and Coryell countered. The morning sun peaked across the horizon, its thin lines of light brightening the air. A wolf lunged at Coryell, with his shoulder he blocked it, and sank his sword deep its belly. The sun climbed. Saeros kicked a wolf in the snout; plunging his spear down its open mouth. The sun inched upwards. A wolf latched on to Coryell’s arm; the elf cleaved its head. The sun marched on. Saeros ended the fight as with two hands he thrust his spear into the wolf pinning it to the ground.
Saeros cast off his gloves, held aloft the shield, and the jewels blazed like stars as the light hit them.
“It is as if a choir in the heavens is singing!” Coryell watched motionlessly as Nimloth’s shield was freed from the power of the Shadow.
“These look like orc tracks.” His finger ran along a path from mud to dry dirt.
“Are they fresh?” Coryell placed his hand upon his weapon, and scanned the horizon.
“No, I don’t think so. But it is not surprising to find them here at any rate. I would have been more surprised to not see any.” Saeros rubbed the dirt with the tip of his finger.
“Good, we should press on then.”
They camped that night, very near the Red Horn Gate, the point chosen for its height. There the May Morning Light would cast the corruption from Nimloth’s shield. The next day they found the fur of wargs along the track. Again Saeros commented that he was not surprised. Orc and warg were not a surprising mixture.
Very early, before sunrise, the two elves found a clearing, and saying a few words of blessing upon Nimloth’s shield, they prepared to bathe it in the sunrise. As they sun crept towards the horizon Saeros held the shield and hefted it above his head. A soft growl rolled from behind them. Coryell twisted and unsheathed his sword, it bit into the side of a wolf.
Three more emerged from the thickets.
“Do not put down the shield, I shall fend them off!” Coryell swung again, but another bull rushed him; knocking him off balance.
“No! We must stand against them together.” Saeros sat the shield against a rock, clutched his spear and thrust into battle.
The wolves bit, Saeros stabbed. The wolves snipped, and Coryell countered. The morning sun peaked across the horizon, its thin lines of light brightening the air. A wolf lunged at Coryell, with his shoulder he blocked it, and sank his sword deep its belly. The sun climbed. Saeros kicked a wolf in the snout; plunging his spear down its open mouth. The sun inched upwards. A wolf latched on to Coryell’s arm; the elf cleaved its head. The sun marched on. Saeros ended the fight as with two hands he thrust his spear into the wolf pinning it to the ground.
Saeros cast off his gloves, held aloft the shield, and the jewels blazed like stars as the light hit them.
“It is as if a choir in the heavens is singing!” Coryell watched motionlessly as Nimloth’s shield was freed from the power of the Shadow.
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