When Raelayeg reared up onto his hind legs, lashing out at something unseen, Brianna used everything that had ever been taught to her to try and calm him but to no avail. All she could do was hang on as he took off in a frenzied flight and hope that he didn't throw her into the rocks that were rushing by. The further they got from the group, the more the great horse began to calm and then suddenly she saw a pale hand reach out and grab his bridle and heard a soothing voice. She started when she realized that it was Tiphereth and tried to hide her leeriness but was unsuccessful. When the Deither was finished speaking, Brianna lowered her eyes lest he see the fear that was in them.

"Point taken, Tiphereth and not soon forgotten."

She looked back up into his violet eyes and shivered. "You are right.....some things are best left alone."

Taking Raelayeg's reins she turned him to head back to the traveling group. Once there, she gave Augustine a small, shaky smile and took up the rear, preferring to be alone right now to deal with her uneasiness and fear. She'd been afraid before but this was something altogether different. She knew that the Phaerie could do damage in ways she couldn't even begin to imagine and that alone had her taking his underlying warning to heart. She glanced over at Jalisa and saw the woman looking at her with knowing eyes. Brianna looked away and concentrated on the ride ahead as well as keeping their backs safe while they traveled.

Raelayeg, sensing his mistress' mood, walked along, his great hooves barely making a sound, his eyes showing that he was more alert than he appeared to be. Brianna decided that she would again watch Tiphereth, Jalisa and Jinn, especially Tiphereth and Jalisa but she would do nothing until at which time she needed to. When Tiphereth looked her way again, she gave him a small smile and looked away, letting him know that his warning was being heeded.

Tiphereth did not acknowledge Brianna. She had heeded his warning and this was enough, for now. His show of strength had been enough to discourage her for which he was thankful. The Dunedain woman was exceptional with a sword but he was more so wary of her will. It was the will of Men and Woman that his kind truly feared. It held a power that could not be explained for to them it was as natural as breathing, but in truth it was a gift that all unnatural beings longed for and respected.

The Deithir had maintained the balance of the scale and kept Brianna's curousity at bay. He had to be on guard against such beings at the Humans and the Dwarf, but the Drowess and Half-Elf, were creatures with one foot yet inside the realm of magic that was his home. The ranger, however, was unique. The blood of Men was strong in his veins, mingling harmoniously with his Elfin essence. Tiphereth had no desire to test his mettle, not that he had any intention of forcing such a confrontation... not if he could help it. The death of Lac'Nala, would not help his own cause nor save his home world. The bard was cautiously treading upon the edge of a great precipice, one false step and he would fall and along with him the fate of his home world.

Tipherth's burden was heavy. So great, that he desired to return to his dark path. The simpler road, one that he felt would ensure his success but also the one that would take the heaviest toll, on him and this new world he had come to respect. The Dragoness offered little levity to this thoughts. Her companionship was appreciated, but how easily she was corrupted, and the great wake of her downward spiral only served to drag him down with her. Verin it seemed, had chosen his minions well, but with luck the bard would be able to use his own ego to blind him, but only when the time was right. The sorcerer was no fool. He was cold and calculating, every move he made had purpose and he took advantage of whatever crossed his path, like he and the Dragoness. Tipherth could not help but admire the Drow's resolve, a trait he himself, even after all his long years, continued to lack. It was a pity they were on opposite sides and Verin cared only for himself for what a mentor he could be. How often the strongest were corrupted by power. Tiphereth had felt this, but how bitter was the taste of fear which so many others, like Verin, savored.

The bard once more rode alongside of the druid. There was a warmth to the man, a radiance that he found soothing and being near him helped to make light his burden.

"I miss my home." Said the Deithir casting his strange eyes to the horizon. "Somewhere beyond the unseen borders of this realm is my world... and my family."

Tiphereth did not need to turn to know the curious look that would befall Augustine's expressive features. The druid was more than aware that Phaerie kind did not have a sense of family, at least not in the way that Humans and Demi-human's knew.

"I did not begin my life as Phaerie." Tiphereth clarified, "It was a choice I made. I have a son. A son who does not grow old, who does not learn as Human or Elven children do. To him the world is a constant sense of wonder. An immense carnival, but he remembers. It is the way of the 'Lesser' of my kind, those that have not accepted the burden that accompanies a sense of time. I imagine right now he might be playing tricks on the robins that nest in our grove. How nice it will be to run the fields with him once more, but how fleeting it would all be if, Morgoth is not stopped."

The Deithir's face once more turned somber as he turned toward the druid.

"In this world there is a being which we call a Nmance. A creature that touches upon both planes, sometimes without their knowledge. I am here to destroy this person, though I do not know the way. All I know is that they are somehow entwined with Morgoth and so the path that opposes him is also the way to them."

Lac had led the party northeast across the river Onodlo, also called Entwash, then turned southeast. As the sun began to set, Ssinjin and Lac were riding about a quarter of a league ahead, as Sarin Gebir came into view. Pulling up he looked back over his shoulder and said "Jin we shall camp tonight and rest at Argonath, at the feet of The Pillars of The King. Long has my heart ached for my eyes to once again fall upon the lands of my father's fathers." He then pointed and she could see the massive stone carvings in the mountains side and the Falls of Rauros . Tomorrow we turn back north cross Emyn Muil and into Anduin.

When Augustine asked Jalisa if she had beento Oron_D_Naar before, she wasn’t exactly sure how to answer the question at first. For a brief moment she stared at him as though she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar thinking he was perhaps fishing for more information but when she senses he was merely curious and making conversation, she nodded and smiled as well.

”Aye. I have. They are beautiful to behold and I cannot wait to see them again. I think you will find them to your liking, Druid. And I would wager you just might find yourself wanting to stay for a spell. You wouldn’t be the first.”

Her tone was light and her mood upbeat but in the back of her mind, Jalisa couldn’t help but wonder if the Druid was perhaps knowledgeable about more than he let on at times. She would certainly keep an eye on him. Which wouldn’t be difficult to do. He was, after all, quite pleasing to the eye now that he had shed his cloak and let the world see his youthful handsomeness.

Anymore conversation they had was cut short when her attention was taken by one of the Rohirrim helping her secure their supplies.


Jalisa felt Verin’s influence more and more. It should have bothered her but she brushed it off as being her nature. It wasn’t that far from the truth either. She began to turn her anger towards Loki and Lac’Nala even though she knew in the back of her mind her predicament was her own fault. But far be it for her to place the blame squarely on her shoulders. It was any ones fault but her own. So she turned it towards the ones she chose to focus that anger on.

While outwardly she seemed no different, inwardly she began to seethe and she knew the Deithir was starting to fell the change within her. While they kept their charade up for pretense purposes, she felt him pulling away from her knowing she was headed down a path he really didn’t wish to go. But that didn’t stop her from trying to join her down that path she was starting to remember and like.

He wasn’t like others and she couldn’t use her influence on him like she could the other humans simply because he wasn’t a human. He was other worldly and that made him almost immune to her magic and while she wanted to see just how much she COULD do to him, she refrained.

For now.

Eventually, though, she knew she would grow more curious than she could stand and try to see just what she cold get away with. Until then she would keep him close and let this common bond they share would help them get to know each other better.

As Tiphereth handled Brianna, Jalisa couldn’t help but let a small, devious smile ease over her features as she knew the Deithir had caused her mount to run away. What she wouldn’t have done to be able to see what short, poignant conversation took place between the dark haired Rohirrim woman and the bard. What ever it was, Jalisa could tell it was quite unnerving by the look on Brianna’s face and the way he came back to sit beside Augustine. The Dragoness didn’t ask any questions knowing what ever he wanted to tell her he would and what ever he didn’t, he wouldn’t. It was that simple. Still, she knew the bard had done something and she took personal humor in that knowledge.

As Tiphereth rode back with the Druid, Jalisa couldn’t help but hear parts of his story. She always knew there was a reason the bard stayed with the group instead of going his own path. Now it was starting to make sense. But why did she find it disturbing to hear he had family? And a son? Bah….he was a pawn just like everyone else. Including herself. So why should she care about him? Or anyone else but herself for that matter?

The night, as it appeared, was shaping up to be quite interesting. One the Dragoness was certain she was going to enjoy. Perhaps even a visit from a rather annoying Drow that grated her the wrong way for all the right reasons.

Jin was glad to have joined Lac and the others while they planned for the upcoming journey. While it was taxing, she wouldn’t want to have been any place else. When they started out in the morning mist she made sure to place as much distance between herself and Tiphereth. What ever was happening between them wasn’t going to just ‘go away’ and she knew it was safer to deal with it this way for right now. At least until she could learn to handle it.

As they traveled out of Rohan, Jin pulled her cloak up around her tight and made sure her head was well covered and untouched by the bright sunlight. While she lavished the warmth the sun gave her, she cared little for the painful brightness she had yet to get used to. And doubted she ever would.

As they traveled, Lac knew she was growing tired and at one point had ridden close enough for her to slip easily onto his saddle and get some rest. Leaning her head against his chest and listening to his steady heartbeat helped put her mind at ease. She didn’t even stir much when Brianna’s horse took off the way it did, seeing the way Tiphereth took off after it.

As the day wore on, Jin felt more able to ride and remain wakeful and slipped back onto Wally’s saddle as she rode ahead of the others with Lac’Nala. As he stated they would make camp in this place for the night, she narrowed her eyes as he pointed to the distance and saw the stone carved keepers of the gate. Blinking, she looked back to him and nodded as she gave him a soft smile.

”And may your heart feel the comfort of knowing you are almost home. This is a good spot for us to rest. Perhaps Brianna’s spirited mount will like to have a rest as well.”

Lac smiled at Jin and said "These are the gates of the lands of my father's fathers. My lands, Oron_D_Naar lie farther north beyond these lands and Wilderland, Mirkwood, Esgaroth, Erebor and across the Withered Heath also know as the Land of the Dragons. We have many leagues to travel and many forces to gather before we are home. But for this night we shall all rest and gather our strengths." He then rose in his saddle and turned motioning the others to follow.

Augustine was happy to have Tiphereth ride along side him, there was always something mysterious and new to learn by listening to the bard's tales and personal musings. The druid knew something of phariekind, they were a point of interest in his studies and the druid had crossed paths with the nymph, a very rare creature. The picture his lessons had painted for him was incomplete and full with man's fear of the pharie world, the druids probably knew a great deal more about phariekind than most but their knowledge was still limited. There were times when the druid had wandered alone that he felt the presence of phariekind and their power, it was a natural side effect of his spell casting, when the druid reached out to draw his power from the natural world he sometimes found and touched upon the ancient and almost forgotten.

These citizens of the pharie realm did not often reveal themselves but Augustine knew they were there. The druid was honored to know one of the 'bright people' as a fellow traveler and a friend. He could sense Tiphereth's heavy heart as he rode along side him.


"Your people will hold your place and the memory of you in their hearts even though they live beyond the veil that separates this world from the other. We druids are taught to imagine that the veil no longer exists, to believe that the two worlds are one. I always believed that we would come to know each other, men and phariekind. I was fortunate enough to have read an ancient scroll in my youth, it told a creation story , a story of the beginning of the line of druids from my sect. The story told of some ancient sailors that were lost in a gale and ran aground on a strange island. The island had never been visited by men before and the ancient sailors found the island to be the home of many pharies. The men did not know of phariekind and had no fear of the 'bright people', they showed honor and respect and were treated with the same.

Some of the sailors returned home in time but many did not, the old scroll told of some young men that stayed and took pharie women as their wives. The story tells that a few of the men that remained among the bright people learned a great deal about healing and magiks from their pharie friends and lovers. It is said that the first druid teachers that came to Columba were men from this island. The name of the island was not revealed in the scroll nor was it's location, I was told that all of this was lost to time and human memory but I believed that my masters sought to protect that special place."

The druid looked at his friend, it was strange to see the fey so fatigued and down.

"We are not so different friend, your mark in the world beyond this one will not fade or be forgotten, some tales are destined to be remembered and told for all time. Your child will never forget the ties that bind, like a pharie's heart they are eternal"

The druid offered a friendly nod as he his horse trotted along.

"I do not know about this Nmance Tiphereth but I will stand with you against this enemy, he cannot know the power that gathers against him. To believe the old scroll is to know that the brotherhood between our people is older than the history of my home and it's wise masters, it as old as the forgotten island and the bright people that dwell there."

Tiphereth nodded and smiled at the kind words of the druid. He alone understood his kind, even more so than the learned man believed himself, but such was the way of his order. They dismissed their egos and always believed their was more to learn, even when their cup over flowed.

"Thank you, Augustine. Your words are poignant and wise. I know this story you speak of. It is no fable. The blood of the Phaerie or Fey, as we are known in this land, trickles through your veins."

The Deithir raised his head and marveled at the great statues in the distance and commented upon them changing the topic.

"I cannot believe that people would labour so to create such titans. They are beautiful." Tiphereth stated then he turned back to the druid and bowed his head humbly.

"I thank you as well for your 'sword-arm', so-to-speak." the bard said with a smile, "A Nmance is a powerful being, whether they are aware of it or not and your assistance would be most welcome."

The Phaerie then continued to smile as the conversation took him back to simpler times.

"Where I am from there are great schools of magic and the arts. Only the most gifted will ever set foot in these institutions and I was privileged to attend such a place. The Temple of the Falling Leaves, is a bardic seminary representing the highest level of education that such a class can attain. I alone was the only of my kind ever allowed to attend, only because I was not born a Phaerie, but chose the path later on in my life. My parents, you see, were both Saedrie, beings who would not be unlike the forefathers of your order. Once in a while these beings have brought to them a Phaerie child, but the light is diminished until that being can choose their path. I did so at a young age to my parents dismay, but I yet held onto much of the physical world, enabling me to live in both realms equally. But that is another story. I mention this, because once a year, and should let you know that one year common to this world is equal to one of our aurels. One year is equal to five of these. So, once every five of your years, the Temple would welcome a pilgrimage from the druidic seminary at the base of the mountains upon which our temple was situated. During this time, we shared our knowledge and learned from one another in the druidic tradition of sharing what is known.

You remind me so much of those early times, Augustine. You remind me how much I miss them. I am very sorry that you are the last of your order my friend and know how much you must yearn to walk the halls of your brethren again.

Perhaps one day..."

Tiphereth near doubled over at that moment. He managed to stave off the stabbing pain in his gut and attributed it to his abdominal wound that was still mending.

"'Tis the old wound. Nothing to worry about." He told Augustine.

In reality it was nothing of the kind. The pain had originated from none other than Verin himself. He obviously did not care to have his minion delve into the druid's past, but exactly why, Tiphereth was not sure. He was not yet aware that it was Verin who had laid waste to Augustine's order and for some reason Verin preferred he not know.

"I like to think about the old times, I believe the old scrolls and stories. As long as one person remembers these things they will never be gone from this world, their power and wisdom shall hold. I feel the same about the members of my order, gone from this world but not forgotten, my power was theirs and their power is mine. As long as I live I will honor the traditions that were taught to me. And if the scrolls and legends are true, and I believe them to be so- then perhaps it is not possible to ever destroy the druidic way for it's past and future are written in all living things and forever bound the mysterious and great pharie people."

The Fey could see that the druid had given this a lot of thought, to the druids is was known that the best of things in this world always found a way to live on in one form or another. A great tree may rot and wither and fall but there was always time to lay more seeds beyond the shadow of the old and have it live on.

"A pilgrimage to the Temple of the Falling Leaves, truly blessed are those that have seen such a place. We are all pilgrims and wanderers, it is good to have friends and fellowship as we wander and search in this life. What a long life it would be without the people we care for, even if they have traveled to the next world."

There was sadness in the druid's last statement, Augustine knew much about life and death and carried good solid beliefs that told him that death was but a beginning, a natural and expected journey. Augustine took this to heart but he was never prepared to be the last of his order, the last living man to wear the maroon robes of Columba.

Augustine took in the massive carved figures that came into view. There was no doubt how the people of Oron-D-Narr felt about their lands, how long their stone carvers must have toiled to create such wonders.

"Lac'Nala's heart must be soaring to look upon this again, I wonder how long it's been since he passed by these sacred stones."

The druid looked to the half elf, he was facing straight ahead, preparing to take in home again. The druid wondered what kind of house the half elf prince kept, was he wealthy? Did the man he had come to know and call a good friend have family here? Had the shadow of Morgoth passed over these lands yet?

As Jalisa rode just ahead of the Druid and Fey she heard pieces of the conversation and was delighted to get some insight to her fellow minion. All of this information would be put to good use at some point in time she was certain. Of course she felt a slight tinge of guilt knowing she was starting to fall back into her old ways but she quickly dismissed it. If they were going to talk openly about themselves then she had the right to store what ever information she wanted to about the conversation.

What she found more interesting, of course, was the Druid’s story. Knowing Druids were always more powerful then anyone gave them credit for, she was interested to discover there may be a direct correlation between Augustine and Tiphereth’s bloodline. This seemed to be quite interesting as well.

Excellent.

But the instant the Fey felt the stabbing pain Jalisa knew it. She didn’t feel it herself but she knew the instant the pain struck the bard. She glanced over her shoulder and shot the bard a quick glance furrowing her brows. What ever pact the bard made with the Drow he didn’t deserve to be treated like this. She would address his handling of his minions next time she got the opportunity to talk to him. Perhaps he could be reasoned with.

Although Jalisa doubted he could be reasoned with anything other than his own self preservation.

Brianna lagged behind the group, keeping watch from behind as well as keeping her distance from Tiphereth. She really wanted to ride next to Augustine but so long as the Phaerie was there she would remain where she was.

When she saw the great statues she gasped. They were magnificent!! She looking longingly back at Rohan, knowing that they were leaving her homeland and knowing that her homeland was now changed for her with her village and adopted parents gone. She thought again about her birthmark and decided that once this war was over she would go in search of the Dunedain...her people by blood.

After a short time, she looked again at Augustine and Tiphereth and decided that she was being foolish, allowing the Deither to keep her from the monk and nudged Raelayeg to a light canter to catch up to them, reining the horse in on the opposite side of Augustine. She returned his smile with her own and then nodded her head at Tiphereth.

"I will miss Rohan but am looking forward to seeing Lac's lands. How about you, Augustine?"

Jalisa was partly right in her assumption that Augustine's and Tiphereth's blood were intertwined. Not all druids shared such a rich beginning to their order as the Columbans, but the magic they wielded flowed from the same source. Druids were always Men. Not due to the attitude of ignorant, misogynic males as some would think, but by ancient tradition whose wisdom was as old as the mountains it was said. The orders druids and enchantresses had always been separated and it was no coincidence of the similarity to the Phaeriekynde. They were comprised of gender specific races for they were not born into the world as natural beings were, they were created from nature and the elements. So too was the magic of the druids and witches which was why they were closely in tune with the realm of Phaerie.

"Indeed the ranger will be most ple—"

The Deithir's words were cut short as Brianna rode up and addressed the druid, speaking of how she looked forward to viewing Lac'Nala's lands.

"Oron_D_Narr is yet many leagues away, Brianna." Tiphereth interjected, "There are many sights yet too see before we cross Master Othargren's, Red Mountains."

"Ah, the Orocarni!" Piped up the Dwarf who had been slumbering in his saddle until he heard the mention of his name and home. "My people will have a fine welcome for us. The hospitality of the Dwarves is second to none!"

Tiphereth smiled at the words of the boisterous Dwarf. He was still getting used to his wild but earnest boasts. The Red Mountains were, however, as rich in history as they were in precious metals. The lore of the land spoke to the bard and had told him much.

"On the western slopes of the Orocarni there was once a Wild Wood and it was there by a great waterfall of a river that flowed from the now dried Sea of Helcar the Elves did awake." Spouted the bard his dreaming eyes staring off beyond the great statues.

"Aye, Fair-one," acknowledged the Dwarf, "'tis one o'the stories of me lands."

By the time the others in the party had arrived, Lac and Sinjin had already gathered wood for a camp fire at the foot of one of the statues by the river Anduin. The River Anduin effectively marks the East/West divide of Middle-earth at this time. Lac was speaking softly to Ssinjin "Argonath, the Pillars of the Kings is the gorge on the Anduin with stone carvings of Isildur & Anarion, marking the northern border of Gondor. Isildur was my father's father's father and Anarion his father. Anárion was born in Númenor, the second son of Elendil. Together with his father and brother, Anárion was a leader of the Elendili or Faithful, the part of the Númenórean people that opposed the dark rule of king Ar-Pharazôn and Sauron. And now an evil has risen again even stronger and more cunning to spread evil and bring darkness across the lands .... Morgoth. He had just begun to unsaddle Lightning.

"Welcome my firends, we shall rest here tonight, eat and gather our strength. Tomorrow we climb the steps and cross Emyn Muil, and then into The Wilderland."

Emyn Muil is translated as "Drear Hills." The word emyn means "hills." The word muil means "twilight, shadow, vagueness."

Rugged hills along the Anduin. The Emyn Muil were located on both sides of the river around Nen Hithoel north of the Falls of Rauros. The landscape was bleak and the terrain was difficult and treacherous.
On the west side of the river, the Emyn Muil formed two long ridges that ran north to south. The western sides of the ridges were steep, while the eastern sides sloped more gently but were intercut with ravines and gullies. There was a deep, winding valley between the two ridges with a stream running through it. The ridge nearest the Anduin was the taller of the two. The other ridge descended about 20 fathoms to a wide shelf which ended in a sheer cliff that was the western edge of the Emyn Muil. This cliff was called the East Wall of Rohan because it formed part of the eastern border of that country.
On the east side of the river, the hills of the Emyn Muil extended farther and were more irregular. The terrain was like a labyrinth of twisted rock through which there was no straight passage. The southeastern face of the Emyn Muil was a high, sheer cliff overlooking the plains below. The cliff was lower at its northern end, but it was still about 18 fathoms (108 feet) high. At the foot of the cliff was a gulley that ran north to south. In this gulley was one of the many small rivers that flowed down from the Emyn Muil into the marshlands below.
Ancient landmarks of Gondor in the Emyn Muil included the Seat of Seeing on Amon Hen on the western shore of Nen Hithoel and the Seat of Hearing on Amon Lhaw on the eastern side. The North Stair was carved into the cliff beside the Falls of Rauros. The Argonath were erected at the northern end of the Emyn Muil on either side of the Anduin to mark the northern boundary of Gondor by Romendacil II probably around the year 1248.

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Tiphereth surveyed the place the ranger had chosen to camp. It appeared that through the years many others had chosen the spot by the river Anduin. It was defensible, yet provided good escape if the need be. The fast waters rushed by the rocky shore line and the wind whistled through the nearby reeds. A fine place to bed down for the night, a picturesque site rich with history and old magick.

The bard nodded to the ranger approving of his choice and timing of his stop, not that such approval was required nor heeded by one so attuned with these lands. It was merely a habit of the Deithir to acknowledge such things.

Happily the bard lead to his horse to the natural corral with the other mounts. The well trained beasts gathered together and relaxed as their saddles were removed for the night. The Deithir then found himself a suitable spot by the fire which the ranger had started and began to play a soft, lulling tune on his flute.

"I have never been to these lands, there is a great deal of flowing water in Oron-D-Narr, many rivers and lakes and snow in winter. Back home was more arid, even the winters were mild. I am very excited to see these wild places, these rivers and mountains." The druid said to Brianna with a smile.

The trees, the water, the hills they all spoke to Augustine, his magic was reaching out to them for the first time, it was somewhat intoxicating. The druid could feel the raw power in the surrounding hills, it felt to Augustine like drinking from a cold fresh well after riding through a desert. The druid always did well in places that were more densely populated with growing things, he drew his strength from them and they seemed to reach out to him as well.

Augustine drew in a deep breath through his nose as he climbed down from the saddle. The breeze smelled of juniper, pine and the sweet smell of the freshwater river nearby. The druid approved, he began to untie his robes from the saddle and then ceased, instead opting to go to Brianna. The Dunedain beauty was climbing from her mount too, Augustine came close to her to see if he could offer a hand (knowing that she would not need it).

"Let me help." The druid said as he offered her a hand down from her saddle.

Just as the druid had said this he felt a strange pull at his magic, he was still letting it flow into the surrounding area, the feeling pleased him so he had allowed it to go longer than needed. Augustine had felt this before, his magic had innocently traveled around the nearby hills and groves and had found something. The feeling intensified as Tiphereth began to play his flute, the druid was quite sure that there were Pharie folk not far from this camp. The druid did not know where or how many for sure but he sensed them.

The druid shot the Fey a curious look to see if the bard was receiving a similar transmission.