The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and Tolkien - The One Ring

by **Epiphany** » Wed Aug 14, 2002 8:35 pm

Dead grass crunched under his heavy leather boots as he gazed up at the massive stone monolithic tower that suddenly appeared before him.Dried leaves,brittle and frail,swirled against his cloaked body as the night wind caught them in an intricate air ballet.The wind was cool and dry as it hugged his body,and everything was silent in the dark woods behind him,like the calm before the storm. Balor didn't know how he had ended up here,in front of the very tower he had searched for for 30 years,ever since it had come to him in a dream on the eve of his 18th birthday.He was just a young mage then,full of energy and ambition.So much had happened in his fruitless search that he had nearly forgotten the dream.He no longer recalled what it was about,what happened,and why it compelled him to leave his life behind him.All he remembered was the Tower. And here it was,looking exactly like it did in the dream.It stretched up into the night sky like a morbid testament to the power of the dark.It's massive base was made of stone,cracked and weathered by countless years of existence.Gargoyles sculpted in the image of demons were mounted on the stone,encircling the tower,their granite jaws stretched open in a cold pantomime of death,immobile wings spread out and perched in a silent attack. Halfway to the top of the tower,the stone stopped.Here the horrendousness of the monolith was made clear.The upper part of the tower was not constructed of stone,nor brick,nor clay.It was constructed of the failures of Middle-Earth's society.It's neglect and refuse. The cracked hulls of elven ships were stacked upon the burned out rubble of human homes,while scorched trunks of once-majestic trees stabbed out into the night sky from the tower's side.The rotted corpses and skeletons of hundreds of humans,elves,dwarves,and hobbits were heaped everywhere.Plates of steel and and iron formed crude walls,while rivers of blood and tears flowed out from the countless cracks to the dead earth below. Near the top of the tower,the torso of a large statue in the image of a human jutted out of the rotting wall,it's arms stretched out to the dark sky,as if it heralded the coming of the darkness that would cover Middle-Earth. Balor shivered.After 30 years,he had finally found it.He had expected and overcome countless obstacles and dangers in coming here,yet now he felt so unprepared and defenseless,like an infant thrust into the mouth of a lion.He was forty-eight,certainly not young,but not old,either.He was weathered and toughened by a lifetime of searching.Fear rarely came to him.But it was here now.He had never felt this scared before,this vulnerable.Sweat ran freely from his brow to his gray beard,where it clinged to the end of the hairs in droplets.His brown tunic was damp and sticky on his skin.His buckskin pants felt like lead weights on his legs while his brown hooded cloak offered little protection from the wind that had suddenly turned to a biting cold moments ago. The scar on his cheek,a souvenier froma run-in with bandits years ago,throbbed in pain.The golden amulet tucked under his tunic,the only tie that linked him to his past,felt ice-cold against his chest. Balor gripped his oak staff so tightly he could feel his knuckles turning white underneath his leather gloves.His sword,tucked into a scabbard dangling from his rawhide belt,felt as reassuring as a bamboo fishing rod. But it was now or never,Balor decided.He had not travelled the length of Middle-Earth to turn back now.Mustering his courage,he stepped up to The Tower's massive stone doors,upon which was carved numerous runic heiroglyphics,centuries of dust filtering in the cracks.He forced his legs to traverse the short distance to the doors,while a colt whit mist settled along the damp earth.In a few shaky steps,he was finally there.He stretched his arm out and touched the doors with the tip of his staff,muttering the words to an opening spell.As soon as the last of the chant escaped his quivering lips,the doors bagan to crack open.The ageless hinges moaned in protest while a fountain of dust rained down on him.From within the tower a green light escaped and enveloped him in a cold,unforgiving mist.He felt it stab into his heart,he heard the whispers,and saw the pain.He opened his mouth in a scream,but no words came out.... ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Balor sat up on his bed with a start.The moon shone down through the dirty windows of his room in The Prancing Pony.A dream.A terrifying dream.It was the only dream of The Tower to come to him ever since the first one thirty years ago.He was near.Very near.It assured him his quest was not in vain.He grabbed the ewer of water on the bedside table and raised it to his lips,a task he found quite dificult owing to the fact that his hands were still shaking violently.When the burning taste in his throat was satiated,he got up and placed his cloak on,drawing the hood over his graying head.Picking up his staff and making sure his amulet was safely under his shirt,he left his cramped room and made his way downstairs. There was the usual plethora of patrons,Balor saw.He managed to squeeze his way past a group of squabbling hobbits arguing over a dagger and sat down in the only available table,wedged in a corner and hidden by shadows.Once comfortable he withdrew his amulet and gazed at it.It was golden,a pentagram set across a triangle,with elven runes carved around the edge.He had found it on the road a day after he left for his quest.It lay abandoned on the road,dirty and tarnished.He picked it up and it never left his side since. As he gazed at it now,it felt warm.Too warm.After a few moments he dropped it to the table in pain as it had become white hot.Smoke curled up from it and threaded it's way to the ceiling.The same apprehension of fear he felt in the dream came to him now.What is happening?Balor thought.What's going on?

by **Naiore** » Wed Aug 14, 2002 11:05 pm

Her table was small, tucked into a quieter corner of the inn and afforded her an excellent view of all that came and went from the commonroom. Naiore sat as she had done so since arriving with the Twilight, surrounded by mortal men. Occassionally, one would look towards where she sat, puzzling over why it was that an elven woman sat unescorted in their midst. She would meet each glance calmly, bringing emerald eyes to return it until they looked away and picked up the thread of their conversation. Realising the disturbance she had created, Barliman had taken to sending Hobb to her table to refresh her glass and see to her needs. Having wizards, rangers and hobbits trapaising through the common room was one thing. A daughter of Finarfin's kindred, kinswoman to the White Lady was quite another. And so the night deepened and Naiore watched in silence, enduring the glances and strange stares as she waited. Barliman noted the lifting of her near empty goblet, held delicately in long and graceful fingers to bring it to full lips, and spurred Hobb on. "Hie, you'd best see to the lady Hobb if we want to keep the others from breaking their tankards." Already Barliman was counting the expense of the crocks broken as they slipped from senseless fingers in her wake. Hobb bustled over towards Naiore as she watched the man drop a very interesting amulet. Before Hobb could reach her, Naiore had risen with smooth grace from her chair. The rich velvet of her silver gown whispered as she walked towards the man that stared at the amulet, shocked by the pain that it had inflicted upon his hand. Naiore could sense his confusion and surprise, it rolling over her senses as she neared. A pottery tankard smashed behind her as a patron stared in startled awe at the High Elf that serenely glided past him. She arrived in time to see the last whisp of acrid smoke drift up towards the ceiling rafters. His eyes raked over her, taking in her race and the station that her clothing spoke of with increasing incredulity. Naiore's lips curved into a soft smile, as she held his gaze, and her voice honeyed and in stark contrast to the mortal voices of the men who shared the common room. Quiet, it floated on the air between them and carried the accent of one who was more accustomed Quenyan, Forgive the intrusion, my lord. I could not help but notice the pain brought to you just a moment ago. I thought I may help, for I am versed in such things as elven amulets. Perilous and fey, they are, and well you likely know this to be true. She held her hands forth, towards the hand that had been burnt by the amulet as he studied her. Naiore bore Balor's scrutiny calmly in the silence that had fallen over the common room for a moment, before adding further, Perhaps it would be less obvious if we were to sit. Naiore's jewel gaze fell to a waiting chair before returning to Balor's face. A mortal with an immortal amulet would likely want to avoid undue attention, she judged. But whether he would accept her offer or turn her away she could not know. Some mortals were distant now from the eldar kindred, sundered by long years of suspicion. And yet others still remembered the old ways, were versed in lore. Naiore waited with some curiosity to learn which man Balor was.

by **Epiphany** » Thu Aug 15, 2002 12:38 am

Balor sat staring at the beautiful High Elf that had just graced him with her voice for several moments with a dumbstruck look on his face.Regaining his composure,he cleared his voice and quickly stood up.Oblivious to the curious stares of the rest of the room's patrons, he motioned for her to sit down in an empty chair."F-forgive my hesitance,milady,it is not often such a commoner as I is blessed by the presence of one such as yourself." The High Elf smiled and sat down in the offered chair.Faintly aware of the heads turned in their direction,she turned her head and gave the patrons in the commonroom a look that was stark in contrast to the natural beauty of her face.The room came back to life momentarilly as they returned to their usual business,her withering glare still fresh in their minds.Several more tankards crashed as Hobb scurried about trying to keep track of the damage. "I thank you,good sir.And I wonder might I ask of you your name?" Her words reached his ears like a kiss of a rainy summer's day,and hung there like smoke from a campfire."I am named Balor,lady." "Simply Balor?" "Aye.It is what I am known to myself,thus it will be sufficient to others."he paused to take a drink from the tankard Hobb had delivered to the table before continuing."And might I be so adventurous to ask my lady her name,or would it be inappropriate of such a lowly mortal as I,a mere Son of Man,to dare ask such a thing of someone such as you?" She smiled once again,a smile that seemed to brighten the gloom of the commonroom. "I am called Naiore," Balor suddenly became aware of the fact that her eyes,shining like jewels,were transfixed upon his amulet.Suddenly suspicious,he closed his hand over the pendant.The heat was gone now,only a lingering warmth remained."And a lovely name it is,Lady.Yet my initial inquiry remains unanswered,and I am still in bewilderment as to why a High Elf such as yourself sees fit to be seen in the accompaniment of a human such as myself."His amulet was precious to him,and he was not comfortable with the idea of handing it over to a stranger,even if she possibly held an answer to the mystery that burned in his head,as hot and searing as his amulet was only moments ago.

The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and Tolkien - The One Ring

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