Stolen Trophies

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Stolen Trophies

Postby Old_Tom_Bombadil » Tue Feb 27, 2018 2:13 pm

A silly re-telling of a series of quests by a silly Elf minstrel...

(Please be sure to right-click on the underlined words.)

Early one morning as I traveled through Lothlórien I came upon Cerin Amroth, the hill where formerly resided the ruler of this woodland kingdom in the vale of Anduin. When I reached the top of the hill I dismounted and climbed the silver-grey rope ladder to the talan set above amidst the branches of the mallorn. There I found a handful of the Galadhrim.


“Suilaid, Randir!” said one of the elf-women. “I am Tuilinn. Will you serve the Galadhrim?”


The sound of this woman’s voice was very surprising. Elven voices are typically clear and bell-like. Tuilinn’s voice had the quality of someone who had smoked three bags of pipeweed a day for the last millenium. Since it is not the practice of the Eldar to consume galenas in any form, I do not know how this could be unless some tragedy had befallen her.

“Mae govannen,” I replied, politely disguising my dismay. “I am Curulinde. I serve Círdan, Lord of the Havens, but while I travel these woods I will do what I may to serve Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. What would you have me do?”

It may have been the raspy quality of her voice, or perhaps her Sylvan accent, but at first I thought she called me ‘Randy’. I know Randy, and I don’t think we could easily be mistaken for one another. Fortunately, I figured out that she meant ‘wanderer’ before I said anything foolish.

“Gather niphredil and elanor from the hill of Cerin Amroth and deliver them to my friends throughout Lothlórien,” she requested.

“Lady, I will do this gladly, “ I answered as I bowed.

And why shouldn’t I do as she asked? Afterall, it’s not as if she asked me to gather stones amidst a herd of hostile swine that I am not permitted to slay, or sing ‘Feelings’ to a grove of forlorn saplings. Besides, I always wanted to be a delivery boy for FTD. That’s why I carry this sword, isn’t it?

I quickly gathered a handful of the white and golden flowers that grew on the hill before setting off on my rounds. My first delivery was to a talan to the west of Cerin Amron where I was told I would find Bahanneth.

Talan Fanuidhol

“Suilaid, Randir!” said an elf-sire residing on the talan of the well-guarded mallorn. “The Lord and Lady have need of your services.”


“It would be Curulinde’s honour to serve them,” I replied. “Are you Bahannath? If so these flowers are for you. Tuilinn asked that I bring them to you to brighten your day.”

“Le hannon, Curulinde,” he replied as he bowed. “Orcs have come down from the mountains. They have made many encampments upon Fanuidhol: Bolg Maufulug, Drûmaudhul, Morkûz Gundul, and Nardur-stazg. “

I clapped my hands over my ears at the mere sound of these words spoken in that brutal orc tongue.


“They have harassed many of our folk,” he said, “slaying them and stealing their goods. Go to these encampments, slay the orcs that you find there, and return the stolen crates. I shall reward you with these golden leaves.” He stretched out his hand to show them to me.

“Very nice,” I said admiringly. “Real gold, too, I bet. I shall depart at once!”

I swiftly rode up the steep hillside to the encampments, and assaulted the orcs that I found there.

I yelled.




I beat my drum.


I even used my sword once or twice.


And when I was through the mountainside ran black with the blood of many orcs.


Bahanneth was overjoyed to receive the creates of stolen elf trophies. What their contents were I never learned, but no matter. It was an honour to avenge the deaths of the Galadhrim and to return the precious goods to their rightful owners.



“Husband, did you receive the crates that brave Bahanneth recovered from the servants of our Enemy?” Galadriel asked.


“I did indeed, Lady,” replied Celeborn. “The contents now reside in their rightful place: my trophy room.”

One of the many trophies returned to Celeborn, undefeated champion of the GWBA (Golden Wood Bowling Association).
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