It appears that another few pages of the journal had been ripped out, perhaps the Author was not happy with discussing the events of the battle, though it was apparent that he had suffered several injuries, the handwriting was messier than usual and the Author talked of his blade with a slight fear and concern.
The journal begins again after the battle of Harloeg, where the company confronted the Wizard, Saruman and was victorious over his hordes of Orcs. The details of this battle was recorded elsewhere, perhaps in a journal of another of his kin...
We made it back to The Angle after a long rest, Thorontir suffered many more injuries than I, and he was constantly tended by the healers, personally I felt that they gave him more attention than he needed, but I'll cut him a break for he has proven to be a great leader and captain and a stout hero against the dark... If it were not for our leader, we would not have been able to muster such a strength against Saruman's Orcs.
I took to the private confines of my room to change into something somewhat more formal. Indeed I had expressed my disdain for fancy attire though this was the only robe I had that was not soaked in blood. It was a long brown robe and its fabric was not itchy nor was it uncomfortable to wear. I wore also the star of the Dunedain as I usually do, though I also kept with my the necklace I found from the other day.
Thorontir remarked that I looked decent in this attire, fair enough... I don't think the company has ever seen me dressed so smartly. Though more importantly he noted how I fought in the battle, more fiercely than he had seen anyone fight before. I cleaved waves of the enemy like a scythe cutting grass. Though the entire battle was a blur to me, it was if I was in a waking dream as fear, anger and adrenaline flowed through me.
I looked down to my sword which shimmered very faintly, whether that was a trick of the light or it was actually the sword, I do not yet know. We discussed about the blade and I finally told someone about its strange properties...
Silherenya was an ancient blade, crafted perhaps by the Numenoreans of old, it had seen many battles before and desired vengeance greater than any. The urge I have to spill blood when wielding this great weapon is strong, and I grow concerned about the safety of my friends here. As long as it stays here, I worry that they are all in danger.
Thorontir advised me to keep the blade with Ulfey, but something tells me strongly to not to. Ulfey is a good friend and a brilliant healer, better than any I met before, she knows much about ancient lore though I fear that the power and allure of this blade shall turn her mind dark. Ulfey does not speak with swords, she only wishes to heal the hurts of that which was caused by such blades, though I worry that Silherenya shall sing to her like it has sung to me these many weeks and it will turn her mind to darker paths...
I worry that I must leave the company, I have written a note explaining everything and left it under my bed, I have packed up ready for quick departure. I do not wish to leave my friends and companions behind, but I know that I will meet with them again.
Thorontir also spoke to me about his encounter with an Eagle, he is lucky indeed to have met such a noble creature, and I indeed hope he finds him again, for we all need a boost of morale every now and then.
I believe I shall take back to my old habits and defend the lands of Bree like I always done, we have stopped the threat of Saruman, though he still lives and may cause trouble elsewhere... I reckon he'll just become a petty criminal worth not our time. Though I worry that a new threat may come to us, not in a force of Orcs, but in more complicated and stranger ways.
I have made my mind up for certain, I am to head back to Bree under the cover of nightfall, I shall not tarry in Rivendell for I know that the company may catch me up. Instead I ride as hard as I can and intend to be at the West Gate within the week, there I shall rest at the Prancing Pony and continue my journey to Annuminas to lay the sword back where I found it. I fear its power too much.
...Though, come to think of it, the sword is indeed the best I have ever had the pleasure to wield, it could come in handy indeed, and besides. I found it, it's my sword. Why should I throw it away just yet? It reminds me also of my heritage. Silherenya may stay with me afterall, a boon companion and a keen blade. Though I must be determined not to spill innocent blood again.
((This concludes the first plot line of The Eyes Of The North, Arostir heads now to Bree to watch the roads for his companion's return... Though even in this quiet rustic town danger can lurk in the shadows.))
((This has been a great event and while I didn't write down all of it for IC reasons, it has been a brilliant experience and perhaps the best RP I've ever come across, here's to the future, folks. I look forward to more events and plots involving the Rangers and while we head back to Bree, the nature of Arostir's sword may come into play as far as the plot is concerned.))
((If you want to get involved in this glorious event, throw Thorontir, Ulfey or Arostir a PM. We'd love to bring in more members to the kin and now is a great time to do so!))
((Thank you, Laurelin for being the best server of them all!))
