Searching for Bree: Region of the Slums.
What began as a great force in Gondor had eroded to two figures, huddled together as they trudged along the Great East Road. They limped and they gasped, their chain mail cracked and whole plates of their garbs and armour missing to expose raw, bleeding flesh that ran in red rivers down the muscle. Lame and weary they pushed on, the howling wind pushing against them in mocking, as if to turn them round. They had not seen any sort of hospitality since many leagues away, at the crumbling ruin of Ost Guruth. What they had seen much of, however, were the orc that flanked them nigh on every day, and when they did not, they would see them lining the hills come night fall, waiting for what was left of the party to slumber. Owing to this, Eldin did not, choosing instead to stare at the cursed circlet he would now wear about his silver hair as his wife nestled against him for sleep. In recent times however, a value of greater importance had entered his life. Today as Eldin fought on, he cradled the heavily pregnant Beren.
"I see light up ahead, sweet Beren. In spite of all we have lost on this voyage, I dare say we are due to gain" said Eldin as he rubbed his pregnant wife's arm. She was pale and sickly with a hand over her bump, her eyes hung low. They raised however, to meet the light of a hedge-lined village over yonder. The chimneys spat out smoke against the night sky like the beacons of Minas Tirith.
"Eldin... we, we found sanctuary. True sanctuary" croaked Beren, never knowing the full extent of how wrong she would be.
They pressed on now with a hurried limp, their friends decaying corpses left out in the long ago wild to be forgotten. Willingly forgotten, as life itself stood before them with its arms outstretched for embrace. They passed armoured caravans and wagons, rumbling in and out of town for trade across the Bree-Land. They joined the que for entry, and passed whispers between each other as they waited.
"Eldin. I think it's a boy. How have we kept him alive in this unforgiving world?" enquired Beren mournfully, for she was now hopelessly without friend and father.
"Think not on it, Beren. Not until we have passed the threshold for sanctuary" whispered back Eldin, planting a kiss to her temple.
The two exhausted travelers stepped forth to the guard for inspection, who looked determined to turn them away. His better stopped him at sight of the pregnancy, and allowed them passed the gates into the jaws of the cutthroats; they had entered Bree. They found residence and healing in The Prancing Pony tavern like so many before them, a time before the war of the One Ring. Consequently, the tavern was without many a refugee, populated almost entirely by native Bree-Landers. With their light complexions, Eldin and Beren spent the next few months posing as Bree-Landers who were set upon near the Chetwood by the Brigands holed up there. Only few knew their secrets. They adopted the Western accent, the ways of the land, until the birth of their son could be assured. The cursed circlet passed into memory, stored within a dusted drawer in their new home that was perfectly situated in the fields North of Bree.
Beren was nearing the end of her pregnancy by this time, but it was the time Eldin entered her resting room with a candle held by its silver tray.
"Sweet Beren, I have found the end of our trail. The path is set, and I must walk it" said Eldin with a tone of unfortunate misery.
"Eldin, do not leave me. Our son is soon born, and when he is so, there we shall go together" pleaded Beren with a sad look about her.
"It cannot wait. What if this object taints our fortune the way it did on our travel. It cannot be in this house when Eldanton enters the world" and at this he'd smile softly at the mention of the baby's name. A silence was drawn out between them, before they discussed further. Their destination lay in the land of The North Downs, and eventually they conceded. Eldin ended the debate with his words.
"A camp is nearby the end of our road. We shall go there together, a ways north of the glorious town of Trestlebridge. A wagon shall take us and you will be spared all hardship on the voyage. We shall go there together, and there I shall deposit you whilst I end this. There will I find you when the task is done... when the undead are appeased and sated of their curse over us. Then shall Eldanton be given a life of purity."
