Darkness once more creeps back into the forests of the world. Rumors grow of a shadow in the East, whispers of a nameless fear that brought the world to the edge of oblivion can be heard. The land of Mordor burns once more, black smoke billows from behind the mountains of the Far East. The animals have become restless and scared of an unknown evil that grows in strength while the world sits by oblivious to what will soon come. Sauron, the dark lord of Middle Earth has returned, to claim all under his cruelty, his madness, and his will to dominate all life for eternity. While the one ring remains unknown to most of the world, a very unlikely creature had obtained it through extraordinary means. A Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins of the shire unknowingly holds the one way to end Saurons threat upon the world and the lingering fear of the Dark Lords return.

Many miles away, a different story is unfolding as a group of close friends are about to be thrown into the middle of the conflict between the Dark Lord Sauron and the destruction of the one ring. On this clear starry night, a cool, refreshing breeze blows across the lands of Bree, summer has come to an end and the weather is cooling down. This breeze that travels through Breeland is more than the seasons changing, for something dark moves with it, invisible but leaving an uncomfortable feeling upon all it crosses over. The trees of the great old forest even blow with the breeze, bringing an odd silence to it. On the edges of Western Breetown a celebration has just begun, and will continue into the late hours of the night. The celebration is being thrown for a group of heroes that had recently eliminated a large camp or Orc Raiders that were destroying all settlements they could find in the Lone Lands. The leader of this group of heroes is a human male that has acquired the name of Raven through some of his actions in the past and the type of plate and mail armor mixture he wears.

A party or celebration for their victory over the Orcs was welcomed by Ravens group as he sat upon a bench, watching a woman creature beautiful music with her lute. The music quickly picked up and turned into a jig of sorts where people flooded the ground in front of the stage and started to dance. Raven was not all too fond of parties, he wanted to be at home resting and relaxing by the fireplace for a calm night. That was not going to happen though, the major of Bree threw he and his squad the celebration and out of respect and while being polite, he showed up and did his best to enjoy all that was going on for them. The woman playing the lute glanced over at him and gave him a wink while singing the closing to the song that sounded quite suggestive. Of course women interested him, but Raven was very fond of Elven women, which had landed him in trouble a couple of times before. Quickly he brought the mug of ale up to his lips and took a long sip, enjoying its smooth flavor and texture before placing it down upon the wooden table in front of him. Raising his eyebrows a couple of times, he responded playfully before turning his attention away from the performer and walked to the back of the festival grounds to grab something to eat once more.

Tender chicken breast that had been marinated with rosemary on top of it, a side of potatoes and some vegetables was his choice for this round, and he would be back again for round number three if the hunger and curiosity remained. “You eat like a hobbit, and that makes me proud good sir.” Said the hobbit that was dishing out the food from behind the counter of the shead that sat next to another that was used for serving some of the drinks. Raven nodded his head in thanks, not wanting to comment on what the hobbit had said, it was better to take it as a compliment, which it of course was. “Please enjoy, I must get back to cooking.” The hobbit walked away quickly to where he started to process more food. Looking over to his friends, he noticed they were off doing their own thing, either with someone else or alone. “It’s going to be a long night.” He thought to himself, wondering who would notice if he went home to sneak in a cup of tea and a book for going to bed. In the far distance, the forces of darkness moved silently towards the Shire, hunting the one ring. The Black Riders were looking for Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, for he held the One Ring, the greatest threat to Sauron and his armies.

Eros wandered over, filling his own plate again. He nodded to Raven, but was rather distracted by the lass beside him who seemed very intent on making his acquaintance in more ways than one. Taking his food and lass, Eros wandered back into the din of joyous shouting and rowdy singing. He was enjoying the party quite a bit, and hoped that there would be many more in the days to come, not quite realizing what he was asking for. He greeted many of his fellow warriors and friends, helping a few of them recount the tale of the slaughter. It had been a hard fight, and several good men had died achieving it, but it had been done, and Eros was certain that the dead celebrated in their own way this dark night.

Finishing his second plate and third tankard, Eros rose to his feat and took the green, dancing with his fair haired lass. Several other lasses tried to steal him for a bit, and one raven haired girl succeeded for a little while, but the fair haired lass was quite insistent that he stay with her that night. His raven winked and whispered about tomorrow night, before bowing out and moving on. Now rather dizzy and tired, Eros sat down to a drinking contest with some men from Bree. He fared better than the men expected, but ended up loosing it all after the eleventh tankard.

Thanneth was not one for parties, but this time was different. This was not an event where she could make a brief appearance and then disappear to tend to Esgal. No, this party was in their honor, so she would stay til the end.

At least, she would try. Whether she made it or not depended on if the humans kept eyeing her like that. Woman or not, she was a warrior and an elf, and had no desire for a man's company for the night. Even if she did, she had standards. Taking a sip from her tankard, she pointedly ignored another man trying to get her attention. If it was urgent, he would come to her. If not, it - and he - could wait.

The women, on the other hand, Thanneth was not averse to spending time with. Women did not preposition her; they simply wanted to hear elven tales. That she could do. Her stories of Mirkwood attracted more women and a few men, drawn in by an elf's storytelling voice and tales of adventure in a far-off realm.

The rhythmic beat of the traditional, hide drums rang out with deafening volume over the crowded parade field, filling it's inhabitants with glee. For each hit another step, each person in turn taking merrily to the jig as their feet pounded out the continuous tune. Deirdre was no different. The raven haired lass allowed the music to flow with great spontaneity, swinging from partner to partner, hands all a mix of gracious gestures and vigorous merrymaking. This was all quite different than some of her dower comrades, men and woman who still had signs of frowning reservation about their faces, no, this was a time for joyous celebration, especially with the orcish threat gone.

Another spin brought Deirdre into the arms of another dancer and it was only with some concerted effort that she was able to break away from their entrancing steps. Her cheeks were aglow with the tinted redness of the ale and spirits and it was in this capacity that the horse-mistress approached her elven comrade. Thanneth seemed to be in the middle of another of her elven tales: beauteous woods and misty vales, alluring in their own right but still incomparable to the blunt wonder of Rohan's rolling plains.

It took only a few more minutes before the tale was concluded and she could approach properly, taking a seat by this companion she'd known for only a few weeks. "Not interested in the festivities Than'? I'd think as an elf you'd be more than willing to show us a thing or two about dancing properly?" It was a blatant goad, not even properly veiled as a challenge.

"Why, you want to be shown up, Dre?" Thanneth laughed, coming up with a silly nickname on the spot. "None of you humans can compare to the grace of an elf." Her tone was teasing. Then she lowered her voice and became more serious. "I'm not much of a partier, but I would love to dance. If those men would stop looking at me like a prize to be won, I would gladly take part." She shrugged and returned to her earlier merry tone. "Besides, I don't wish to outshine every woman here! I rather enjoy their company, and would not wish to cause dissension between them and their sweethearts."

Thanneth wasn't lying; she loved to dance. However, she usually danced only with males she respected and who respected her. It was one way for a man to know how he stood with her. If she consented to dance with him, he had her trust. If she asked a man to dance... that had only happened with one elf, many years ago. He had fallen to a spider not long after. "Enjoy yourself, Deirdre. Don't concern yourself with me." She smiled softly at the younger woman.

The tantalizing delicious scent that came from the freshly baked chicken upon Ravens plate was testing him as he walked across the festival ground and over to same table he had been sitting at only moments before. Pulling a chair out from under the hard wooden table, he quickly took a seat and placed the plate of food in front of him on its surface. Anyone that had been watching him at this point would have considered the man starving or at least thought that he enjoyed the food quite a bit more than the normal participant. Using a knife and fork, Raven cut into the chicken upon his plate and started to devour it with a ravenous appetite. After a moment or so of this, the food would have vanished, and plate cleaned of all its food, sitting alone upon the table, now someone else’s problem to clean up. Too tired to care about returning the plate, Raven walked through the groups of cheerful people that filled the tables around him while trying to find anyone he knew. Thankfully, sitting at one of the tables nearby was his elven friend Thanneth as well as Deirdre, and Eros who had already managed to end up drunk.

“Have some respect for yourself Eros and lay off the drinking before you pass out or do something you will regret later.” Raven smacked the man on the back, half expecting him to fall over flat on his face. “You are free to do as you wish of course, but please try and use common sense before hurting yourself.” Letting out a soft sigh, Raven found an empty seat next to Thanneth and Deirdre, claiming it as his own. “Good evening ladies, I hope you two are enjoying yourselves at the celebration?” Crossing his arms, the ranger leaned back in his seat and waited for a reply. In the far distance, a soft but still audible sound that seemed to be a high pitch wail pierced the night. No one else around him seemed to hear it, and the celebration continued on. The sound came forth from the distance once more, but was clearly closer this time. The hairs on the back of Ravens neck stood up now, his once acceptable state of comfort, shattered and tossed into the wind. Turning his head to Thanneth then to Deirdre, he had a look of concern spread across his face. “Am I the only one that heard that? It sounded like a high pitch inhuman wail of some sort.” Standing up from the table, he motioned to Thanneth, Deirdre, and Eros to join him. “I need to have a word with the mayor before we leave, we are going to investigate that sound just to clear my mind.”

The mayor of Bree had his own table that was lavishly decorated with designs carved into the table. Gold and other fine metal plates as well as utensils sat upon the tabletop with his own freshly prepared meal that covered a wide variety of foods. Raven walked up to the large man who sat in a cushioned chair and bowed lightly to him before speaking. “My friends and I would like to thank you with all of our hearts for the amazing festival that has been quite a fun event to partake in. As of now though, I must unfortunately announce that we are leaving for the night for our own personal reasons. If you ever require our assistance again, please contact me and we can discuss what has needs to be done. Have a good night and please enjoy the fantastic food, drink, and entertainment you have so kindly set up for us.” The mayor would open his mouth to say something but quickly nodded his head instead and then shoved a chicken leg into his mouth. “Follow me, stay silent and in the shadows, I do not want to take any chances here for I have no idea what we are going to find.” Raven motioned with his right hand for the group to stay close to him before they arrived at the large river that ran alongside Breeland.

Once again, the same unnerving sound could be heard but this time was much closer and did not echo. The air around them had fallen strangely silent, and the winds had died leaving the night with an eerie feeling of dread. In the distance down the road to their left they could see figures moving but could not make out what they were. “Look, the road to the north west has riders who approach.” Raven motioned with his right hand in the direction as the black figures moved closer. “Everyone hide, into the forest!” Raven quickly scurried into the lush forest to their left and threw himself onto the ground, keeping his head part way up only to watch as the Black Riders closed in on them with every moment that passed. “Lay still and be silent, do not move a muscle.” said Raven. Quickly he ordered the rest of his group to do the same as he. Nine Black Riders, he had counted them as they moved down the road, soon to pass them. "I must tell the mayor and inform the rest of my mercenaries." thought Raven to himself, but if these Black Riders turned out to be what he thought they were, they were going to need all the help they could find as well as answers.

Although Deirdre had originally been planning to enjoy the simple merriment of a village festival throughout the duration of the night coming events conspired to rob the Rohirrim youth of that joyous opportunity. With half-narrowed eyes the woman turned her attention to Eros as he approached, lips pulling downwards into some semblance of a frown; although she was more than accustomed to dealing with drunken warriors, especially after so many years working with the militia, it none-the-less continued to annoy the youth when others felt the need to lose themselves in their drinks to such a degree. Nevertheless, Deirdre forced a half-smile and greet her comrade in the same cheerful tone she'd used with the elf. "Hail comrade! You look as though you've downed one to many tankards?"

The question was rhetorical of course, from a moment's observation it was clear that the man to whom Deirdre was now speaking was thoroughly intoxicated. She wondered absently if he'd even be able to fend for himself in the case of a sudden attack in such a state? Before she could wander too far down this train of thought another companion from the band joined them, this time with a much more serious look on his face. It was Raven, their so-called leader and the namesake of the band. Deirdre herself had made conversed with the man only a handful of times, though she'd seen him more often than such. In a way they still had yet to know one another and this hesitancy was much more apparent than with Thanneth or Eros.

“Am I the only one that heard that? It sounded like a high pitch inhuman wail of some sort.” There was a moment's pause as Deirdre remained silent, looking to the others to see if they'd heard the sound. “I need to have a word with the mayor before we leave, we are going to investigate that sound just to clear my mind.”

As soon as the orders were given Deirdre rose to her feet, hands pressed against the simple cloth garments that clad her form, unique only in their distinct patterns and splashed of dull green and blue. Moving away from the group it took only a minute or so the reach the village stables, the woman's rough hands rising against the now tattered hide of Lowain's haversack. The horse responded to its rider's approach with a curious whiny, though in her haste Deirdre paused a moment before responding, too busy pulling off her top vestments, replacing them with a shirt of mail before retying the cloth atop. "Peace, I'll be back shortly. . ." Retrieving her bow and sidearm Deirdre's nimble fingers wasted only a second or so more untying the reigns of her mount from the nearby pole. Lowain was well trained and knew this new-found freedom was not to be abused, only utilized in cases of emergency or when a speedy exit was required.

Patting the horse's side twice Deirdre made haste returning to the group, this time completely ready with her armor and armaments. By about the same time Raven seemed to have concluded his business with the mayor, leading the squad away from the town to investigate the expansive wilds that lay beyond. It was a good time before their investigations produced anything of worth; a long trek in the woods brought nothing but mist and cold air. It was only when they approached the northern road that Raven made known verbally the results of his scouting.

“Look, the road to the north west has riders who approach.”

Immediately Deirdre went on the alert, body pulling closer to the protection of a nearby tree as her cold, obsidian eyes swiveled to observe the appointed area. Indeed it was true, a number of dark riders, cloaked and hooded, galloped down the road at blinding speeds which seemed almost impossible at second glance. With each passing moment the beating hooves of their ethereal mounts rang out louder and louder in the ears of the experienced rider.

“Everyone hide, into the forest!"

Deirdre obeyed without delay, having little interest in attracting the attention of the decidedly macabre riders. Sucking in air through her lips the bow mistress pulled herself flat against the backside of the tree, leaning hard into the cold oak. Her eyes closed briefly as a wave of freezing air washed over her like a tidal current, soaking her body all the way to the bone with some demonic chill. "Orome protect me." The words seemed to leave her lips uncontrollably and at an inaudible whisper.

Ori sat on a camp stool, brewing over tankard of mead, his clay pipe hanging from his lips. Reaching into the pouch at his side he pulled a wad of tobacco and packed it into the bowl. Striking his flint with the blade of his knife to light it. The night had been one full of merry-making and celebration but dance and mead had left him feeling drowsy. He noticed a group of his fellow mercenaries chatting for a while and then walking off towards the mayor's table. Ori thought that it was odd but assumed that there leader Raven was going to collect his coin. Ori followed his short legs wobbly as he tried to catch up. He abandoned hope at the edge of the woods, where they carried on down the road, as he turned back to return to his humble quarters at the inn.

Thanneth rolled her eyes at Eros's drunken rambling. He had missed something vital in their conversation, and she had no desire to enlighten him. Then Raven joined their table. After their recent battle, she respected his talents as a leader and warrior.

“Am I the only one that heard that? It sounded like a high pitch inhuman wail of some sort.” Thanneth nodded silently, surprised that Raven had heard. She had thought herself the only one to hear, and was about to tell Raven about it when he beat her to the punch. “I need to have a word with the mayor before we leave, we are going to investigate that sound just to clear my mind.”

As Raven went to speak with the mayor, Thanneth hurried to put on her armor, or at least some of it. She pulled on a shirt of elven mail, covering it with a thin tunic, tied tight to muffle the noise of sliding rings. Covering her bare feet with brown leather boots, she hurried back in time to set off with the rest of them.

It was quite some time before anything came of their search, but when Raven said to get back into the forest, she obeyed quickly and silently. There was something wrong about those riders. Then they passed, and the elf felt the miasma of terror they left in their wake.

"A Elbereth Gilthoniel o menel palan-diriel, le nallon sí di'nguruthos! A tiro nin, Fanuilos!" Thanneth recited under her breath. O Elbereth Starkindler, from heaven gazing afar, to thee I cry now beneath the shadow of death! O look towards me, Everwhite! "The Nine! It cannot be!"

Aethidos, smoked his pipe weed silently. The darkness embracing him, his cold grey eyes watching the dancing lights of the festival grounds. He enjoyed to see the folk dance and drink. At some point on his return trip to the north he had managed to meet up with a company of mercenaries, in which he joined in their hunt of the orcs. After the mess had been cleaned up they had planned on a night of merrymaking and celebration. He refused their offer, and instead sat outside away from the festive activities.

The night wore on, and his pipe had run out. A small portion of the band left the general grounds for the party in a rush, following the sound of other worldly screams. In the back of his mind he knew what it meant, and all too well understood what was about to unfold in the world of men. The feeling rose from his stomach and sank quickly. He packed his pipe one more time and sat back, waiting for the return of his new companions. Naur en' Kala rested comfortably beside him.

"The nine ride again." he spoke softly and to no one in particular. Letting out a long puff of smoke, he placed a well calloused hand on the hilt, the familiar feel of the cool metal under his hand put his mind at ease. He was one of the few left of his race, the days of the Dunedain were over, and now he lived to preserve the line of Elendil. With the nine roaming the lands again, things were about to change and he hadn't decided yet on how it might.

One of the Black Riders demoniac horses came to a sudden stop, its front hooves lifting from the ground as it kicked up a cloud of dirt that hung in the air. The grotesque horse whipped its head to the direction of the forest and stared with pupils crimson eyes into the darkness as if it could see right through the trees and ground cover that hid Raven and the rest of his fellowship. When the Horses breathing increased dramatically, the same unsettling high-pitched wail echoed through the forest. Raven did not feel a physical pain but one that seemed to come from deep down in his soul that filled him with terror and hopelessness of the likes he had never experienced before. The Black Rider looked forward once more into the distance, in the direction of Bree then rode off with unnatural speed, the rest of The Nine keeping pace. Moving his head around the tree very slowly and carefully, Raven observed the Black Riders as she seemed to vanish into the mists down the road, all sign of them vanishing along with the silence that had taken over the land. A feeling of dread remained in their wake once they had vanished, “I have no doubt in my mind now that those were indeed the Nine, they were heading in the direction of Breetown. What could they want with the people of Bree?”

Raven ran a couple possibilities through his head as he now walked through the misty forest that had the cool breeze return to it. Reaming silent for the cautious walk back to Breetown, Raven kept his eyes and ears open, looking and listening for anything peculiar or out of place within the forest. From what he had read of the Nine, they had been nine great kings of men, they were all given rings of power but the rings turned them into slaves of Saruon, and later they became his chief lieutenants once he forged a new ring, a ring to rule them all. “The one ring…” Raven said to himself. “That is what they must be searching for, the one ring that the Dark Lord himself wielded.” Raven stopped and bent over for a moment to regain himself after revelation. “If the Black Riders are hunting down the one who carries the one ring, that means he who cannot be named has returned, the Dark Lord himself.” There was a pause before Raven once again started to move towards Bree, but this time sprinting. He could see Bree now in the distance, and pushed himself to run down the front gate and gates men that had been trampled by large hooves.

Sliding to a stop, he turned around and noticed the group of people that had formed around the gate with the rest of the guards who were alive “Who did this guardsmen? What did you see?” asked Raven while grabbing onto one of them who seemed to be in a state of shock. “Tell me!” The man covered his face with both his hands and said “Black riders, they came right through the gate and trampled the other guardsmen. The rode horses not of this earth, draped in all black and an ill feeling of decay surrounded them, I saw them head down towards the Prancing Pony then vanish as if merely an illusion.” Raven quickly turned and ran towards the Prancing Pony, ordering his fellowship to follow him. Once there, he kicked open the front door and found the tavern to be empty on the first floor for all but one man, Butterbur. “They left already!” Butterbur explained pushing Raven out the door and then moving heavy objects in front of it. “They went east, leave me alone!” Raven turned back to his fellowship and shrugged. “All of you own a horse, correct?” asked Raven before he heard something or someone walk out of the shadows behind him.

“I am going to assume you that you saw the Black Riders as well hmm?” A man in dark grey robes kept his face hidden but talked in what could almost be called a cheery voice, strange for the current situation they were in. "We have indeed, who are you? Do you know where the nine and headed and what they are looking for?” asked Raven, still holding onto the hilt of his longsword. “I may know where they are headed, but it is not where anyone sane or looking to be a hero would head. The fires of Mount Doom burn once more, a dark shadow has been cast upon the land and the dead rise to carry out the masters will.” He would pause and look over the fellowship before nodding his head with approval. “I have heard of your deeds Raven and company, perhaps you would be interested in assisting me?” Raven nodded his head, “Very good, but I’m afraid there is a high chance that none of you will make it back alive. The ring bearer heads south west with his own fellowship to destroy the ring of power but for you…” The old man would stand and think of a moment before laughing softly to himself.

“You clearly can fight and are quite talented at it. There is a war in the north as well, but you will take the south eastern paths that lead into the mountains and lands beyond.” The man handed Raven a map then tipped his hat at him before vanishing back into the shadows. “I wish all of you luck Master Mythian from Gondor, remember that I will be watching so will others who are not so friendly. The forces of evil are working against you now, make hate and leave Bree as soon as possible. Your map will give you information on what will come next.” With those last words, the old man vanished into the shadows of the night. Opening the map, Raven studied its contents before folding it back up and placing it inside of one of his bags. “I know some of you would rather stay behind and help protect the town from further danger but what is on this map shows that if the strong do not do their part, the world could be last to the Dark Lord. He has risen once more and builds armies in the south east that gather for global domination and then our extermination. For those who wish to join me, gather all of your equipment, armaments and anything else you may need for a year’s length journey at least. We will be leaving at the first light of dawn by the east entrance of Breeland.”

Turning around, Raven pushed as hard as he could to get the furniture out of the way of the doorway so he could enter. “Fine fine! You may enter, I heard everything I think, you may stay at my Inn for no charge tonight but you must leave in the early morning and be gone!” Raven nodded his head at Butterbur, “Thank you, we appreciate it, don’t we my friends?” asked the fellowships leader. Walking over to stairway, he climbed the stairs before picking an empty room and laying down all of his gear then heading downstairs once more. Pulling a table over to him, he sat out a large number of chairs by the fireplace and took a seat, laying the map down upon it for all to see. Calling his fellowship over, he laid the map down upon the hard wooden surface of the table and quickly pointed at their route. “We are heading southeast from Bree, we will pass through the Lone Lands and stay off the road at all times. Once outside of the Lone Lands, our trail brings us to the Troll Shaws, we will pass through this area during the day and avoid any dark areas. Then a visit will be made at Rivendell, I will need Thanneth to help us move through the lands and perhaps rest and rejuvenate there. The river leads down through the misty mountains and to Eregion."

"We will past Gwingris and continue through the lands Eregion until arriving at the walls of Moria. Depending on how the lands condition is, we may have to pass through Moria to arrive at Rohan. From Rohan we move to Gondor then…” Raven would cough lightly and tap his finger on top of the last place they ever wanted to be. “Mordor…that is the general path that has been recommended to us, if there is trouble and knowing us there will be, there may have to be a couple changes made. As for now, I will answer any questions you all may have about tomorrow."

Ori had woken with a start to the sound of footsteps in the hall. He pulled himself out of the cot he had been given and threw on a tunic and breeches. Belting his belt and short-sword he peaked his head into the hall it was empty but the hair smelled of death and a strange breeze sent tingles down his spine. He returned to the room and shut the door grabbing the candle on the bed side he peaked back into the hall. Once assuring him self that it was empty he began down the stairs.

As he entered the main hall he saw his fellow compatriots gathered around a map listening as Raven spoke in a low whisper. "...until arriving at the walls of Moria. Depending on how the lands condition is, we may have to pass through Moria to arrive at Rohan. From Rohan we move to Gondor the Mordor…that is the general path that has been recommended to us, if there is trouble and knowing us there will be, there may have to be a couple changes made. As for now, I will answer any questions you all may have about tomorrow."

Ori cleared his throat and in a groggy voice said "What all this about? Have we another contract? I'm up for anything as long as there is coin." He stroked his auburn beard with a calloused hand and with the other lifted the candle so as to get better view of the part.

@Maxwell57

"Worse than that, Master Dwarf." Thanneth replied grimly. "The Nine ride again. He who must not be named is stirring, and we have been given a quest." She returned her attention to Raven. "For such a quest as ours, I believe Lord Elrond will be an invaluable aid." She was silent for a few minutes, thinking over everything she had learned that night. "Is there any chance that our path will lead us towards Mirkwood?"

He had rejoined the group shortly after they arrived at The Prancing Pony. The nine were moving with a quickness that should worry any man. He stayed on the outskirts of the group. His leader began to speak with a man in the shadows, an older man. He dropped a great deal of information that both confirmed and worried him. In all his days he had seen some horrible things, but none of them could hold a candle to the darkness that was surely to fall upon middle earth. All of his gear was packed into his saddle, he usually prefer to travel by foot but on a gut feeling he'd purchased a horse and saddle on his way into Bree before joining the group.

As Raven layed the plan down he ran their course through his mind. Moria worried him, he hoped that there was another way. The white wizard Saruman also popped into his mind. It would be close to Rohan and could benefit the group by seeking his council. Aethidos spoke when there was a break in conversation. With a step forward he spoke. "We could also visit the white wizard Saruman. I'm sure his council would be invaluable." He paused his voice was rough and deep. "We could also travel south staying off the road, and avoid the mountains all together, it wouldn't extend our travels more than a day or two, especially on horse back."

Almost as soon as the riders had vanished orders came again. The sudden veil of fear which had so closely cloaked their bodies washed away as the thrill and terror of the hunt set in. Deirdre's eyes flashed open as the heat of the moment washed over her. The abject chill which had frozen her only an instant before was gone and almost without thinking her body was in motion, form pulled away from the tree into an all out sprint. The riders were moving to Breetown but for what purpose remained unknown.

As she moved Deirdre held herself low to the ground, feet moving quickly over rock and soil and root, expertly navigating the broken terrain. It was only with the sight of Breetown in the distance that she slowed her pace and the adrenaline began to wane. The fatigue set in close after combined with the uncertainty of what could lay within. As the companions drew closer she could see the ultimate fate of the town's foremost gate: trampled under the black hooves of terror beasts from the edges of one's farthest most nightmares. It didn't take long to track The Nine. Where they'd went a swath of destruction lay until at last the trail vanished before the Prancing Pony and the host fell upon the inn with all the courage and vigor they still possessed.

Once inside the interrogation of the inn-keep and their mysterious commission kept Deirdre on her toes. All of it made little sense, at least, it made little sense to the nomadic warrioress who had no sense of the world's greater politics. All she could see was a mysterious man tempting her newly met captain into what seemed to be their group's imminent destruction. Still, the promise of coin and adventure was enough to keep her determination firm and as Raven outlined their plan she remained silent and observed.

When at last Raven was done speaking a few others chimed in with their concerns or suggestions which ranged from different pathways to various forces upon which they could call for aid. Again, Deirdre had little conception of what their quest could bring them, only that the forces of the Dark Lord were involved and that the Ring of Power had been found. This alone was enough to seal her commitment and as the conversation ended she was quick to return to the stables. Deirdre removed the mail shirt as well as the rest of her leather bindings, stowing the armor upon Lowain for easy access in the morning. The majority of her weapons were stored in a similar fashion, though she kept a simple pair of knives upon her person in case of something unexpected.

The rest of the night passed quickly and Deirdre got little sleep. The prospect of a long morning's ride and the threat of combat kept her awake. She was not often jittery upon the eve of battle, but this night had proven that the morrow's combat would not be against the typical brand of brigand or raider. The evil they now fought was something unlike anything she'd seen before; she was fearful.

The dim light that came from the candles upon the edges of the hard wooden table illuminated the corner of the Inn they had gathered in. Most of the citizens of Bree had gone home to rest for the night but those who were still awake and wondering would have found the simple candle lights coming from the first floor of the Prancing Pony a curiosity. Thankfully, there would be no intrusion due to the front door being locked as well as the shades being pulled down to help with privacy from inquisitive eyes. The trail that had been lightly marked upon the map from the old man did seem rather bizarre and went seemed to have no real direction to it besides putting those foolish enough to follow it in danger. “There has to be a reason the old man wanted us to take this path that he had marked out for us instead of the more obvious and less dangerous route." The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs drew Ravens attention, he quickly turned his body to face the stairs and drew his sword before noticing that it was yet another member of his Mercenary group. This certain member of the group was a Dwarf, and had seemingly missed the Dark Riders due to a deep sleep that he had been in when they passed through the building.

“Thanneth speaks the truth unfortunately, the Dark Lord moves again once more. Come join us Master Dwarf and we will explain the situation to you.” Raven pulled over a chari for Ori and motioned to it before continuing. "I also believe that Lord Elrond will be of invaluable aid to us, that is if we will be allowed to speak with him or travel through his lands. I mean no offense by this Thanneth but most Elves dislike those who are from the kingdom of men.” It was a true statement, the Elves held quite a bit of dislike for the armies of men due to many reasons that were due to their poor choices and ability to become corrupt over the promise of power and wealth. “The White Wizard Saruman on the other hand would welcome us as if we are old friends, that is what I have heard at least. His great knowledge, power, and wisdom will be invaluable for our cause.” Reaching into his bag he pulled out a carpenter pencil and began to make revisions to their path, “The idea of staying off the road is a great idea Eros, we are less likely to run into the Nine while traveling through the wilderness. Attempting to rally the Elves and Dwarves will not be an easy task to do, we will need proof of what we say to sway their minds and have to join our cause but it is possible. As for Moria, we will avoid that area completely unless we are forced to take that route do to unforeseen complications. The misty mountains could be just as deadly though, so when we arrive at the point where the choice has to be made, I will take a vote between all accompanying me as to which path will be taken. Mirkwood, to Erebor, then the Iron Hills as well as we ride south through Rhun and around into Mordor….”

Raven traced his finger over the map while saying the names of the lands out loud to mostly himself. “We must avoid the black gate at all costs, that is nothing but at death trap for us all. Just in keep in mind that this is not a set path, we will undoubtedly meet challenges and obstacles upon the way that will most likely force us to change our course. Everyone get to bed and rest, for tomorrow we begin bright and early.” Raven would bow before his fellowship then head up the stairs to his room, shutting the door and locking it. After removing his gear, he placed it neatly upon the table and laid down upon his bed, quickly falling into a deep sleep. That night, all he could dream about was being chased by the Black Riders who were out to end his life. Morning came quickly, and Raven awoke feeling refreshed, energized and ready to begin. “Master Raven, Good morning to you, I have made breakfast downstairs for you and your friends that is fir for a Hobbit. Quickly though, I must open the Prancing Pony soon!” Butterbur apparently had a quick change of mind over the night and had indeed created a breakfast fit for no less than a group of Hobbits. “Quite a display of culinary talent you have set up here for us.” Butterbur had retreated into the kitchen, and Raven took this as a sign to sit down and wait for the rest to join him for breakfast. When he did take his seat, he served himself a healthy amount of the wide assortment of foods, anxious to start eating and get the day moving.