As Jalisa stood watching the events transpire, she remained a quiet observer. It was nice seeing the different races and species interact and communicate with each other. The ancient woodsmen weren’t easy to understand at times and yet somewhere along the way the young lad, Lac’Nala, had learned to just that.

A pesky hum in the back of Jalisa’s head began to form just then. It wasn’t anything hurtful as much as it was annoying. Glancing around, she looked to see if there was an external force that may be causing it for it had been quite some time since she’d heard or felt the sensation.

Furrowing her brows and concentrating on what the oaken sentient was saying, the dragoness in disguise did her best to ignore the sensation thinking it more like a pesky mosquito she couldn’t see but could damn well hear.

Augustine was amazed to see the Ent, the druids in his sect had only told stories of such creatures, ancient were they and wise. The great tree lord addressed Lac'Nala as if they had crossed paths before, something the druid would inquire about at a future time to be sure.

The Ents for all their age and wisdom are stubborn and singular minded beings, they have a deep concern for trees and other growing things, and of course other Ents but they do not trust nor do they care as much for the troubles of men, Elves and Dwarves.

The great tree lord did not linger long, he too felt the gathering darkness that was closing in, surely it was gaining in strength if it now concerned the tree lords of Fangorn forest.

Augustine felt melancholy as the tall Ent moved away from the group.

"I pray that the enemy never finds this place, I will do my part to see that they do not."
Augustine said to himself, Strongwood slowed his pace for a moment and turned and looked at the group, his strange eyes glittered in the shady woods, he then turned away once more as he walked on.

As Strongwood moved off into the forest talking to himself, Lac led the party on through the dense forest until the came to a waterfall falling from a cliff into a river.
"Behold Contenment falls and the River Onodla. We cross the river downstream a short distance." he said and continued downstream about a league. Crossing the river they passed through a stand of trees , stopping they looked out upon a vast field with mountains in the distance. Lac gestured with his hand as the rode out onto the plain "We have entered the Westement in land of Rohan. There before us is the Gap of Rohan and the ruins of Isengard. We turn east here and make for the Eastement and Argonath."

Brianna was still quiet and subdued, keeping a watchfull eye on Jalisa, but her mannerisms were that of one who was uneasy.

Upon crossing the river and reaching the Gap of Rohan, her spirits lifted, but only slightly. She knew that they would be passing through her village before long and she didn't know how she would be received. She was the different one in the village, the only one who was dark compared their blondness. Her parents wouldn't be there to greet her and she had no idea if the young man she'd watched from a distance would still be there or if he would even notice her now that she was grown. These things made her uneasy and subdued.

Walking eastward, she couldn't surppress the smile as she saw the familiar surroundings of the Gap of Rohan. Even though she was born of this land, it was still home and even through her unease, she was still glad to be in her homeland once more. She began to think of her friend, Sienna. Was she still there.....had she married yet...would she be alive? It would be good to see the young, blond woman again who had been her best friend since the day she'd arrived.

"Ah! It does these eyes good to look upon the expanse of Rohan." Stated the Dwarf as he steadied his black ram atop a low grass ridge before the majestic scene. He did not care much for the dark hollows of Fangorn and was pleased to be rid of them. The softened features of his otherwise gruff expression did not, however last. Looking westward, Othargren scowled and spat a curse in his tongue to the remnants of Isengard when Lac brought their attention to them.



Sorrelwind standing beside the mounted Dwarf with a slight luminescent shimmer to his being in the radiant sun smiled at Orthagren's ancient grudge the story of the Orthanc was revealed to him. The outlander had now been within the world long enough for one of his most powerful bardic abilities to manifest, an ancient skill mastered by those who devoted themselves to the way of his order. Called 'loring', it was the magical ability to extrapolate the lore and legends of the realm by being in tune with the faerie or essence of the land.

"Aye, Orthargren it was once a place of Half-orc and Uruk-hai under the ward of Saruman the White but now it is the wood of Treegarth of Orthanc under the guidance of Treebeard who yet remains its steward." Explained the Deithir outlander as one who had resided these lands far longer than the Dwarf had been aware.

"Is that so, master Sorrelwind of whatever distant land ye hail from?" Challenged the Dwarf.

"It is." The Phaerie bard replied confidently, his bright eyes staring to the west, looking far beyond what most referred to as sight, but as his mind searched the groves of Treegarth and sailed round the tower of Orthanc he could feel the tales that told of an evil growing to the north. "But you are indeed wise to not forget the tales of old, master Dwarf." he quickly corrected.

"Indeed." Agreed the Dwarf, but then immediately questioned the reason, "What are ye jabbering on about now?"

"Orc stir in the Misty Mountains. The lands are changing. An evil is growing." Answered the Deithir.

"Well, you've a talent for understatements, this much is true." Huffed the Dwarf, "Morgoth is the true dark lord and if he is indeed returning then we may be standing at the edge of another great war."

Sorrelwind while knowledgeable of Morgoth's own impact on his world searched the lore of Middle Earth and was aghast of what he learned. "Sauron was only a lieutenant of this ultimate evil!" he stated, "This god has been called the 'Great Death'. His evil will sweep across the lands like a plague. How can we stop it?"

Orthagren was silent and regarded his Phaerie companion with the cool of expression of one who long ago accepted his fate. He then turned his head slowly toward the ranger and leaning forward against the horn of his saddle presented the same question that had been burning within him for some time now. "Aye, master Lac. How do ye intend to fight this god? This Dark King?"

The Phaerie's lavender eyes also fell upon the ranger even as he searched through the lore of the land, seeking an answer in the ancient stories, but one would not be so easily found. The tales he heard on the wind were vague in comparison to the voluminous scrolls and tomes that lay within the archives of the great cities of Elves and Man and it was there that an answer might present itself. Until then though, Sorrelwind was curious to learn of this Half-Elf's insights to challenge this all-powerful enemy.