Varanwë Reaches Alqualondë

[20:44]  Varanwe Firehawk: my love......something is terribly wrong here. i find no one.[20:44]  Nexus Kabila looks at her love with some concern.
[20:44]  Nexus Kabila: I saw no one from the balcony.
[20:47]  Nexus Kabila: This makes no sense.
[20:48]  Varanwe Firehawk: indeed not, nexi.
[20:48]  Varanwe Firehawk: i must inform her majesty of this at once.
[20:48]  Nexus Kabila nods. Yes. She will want to know as soon as possible.
[20:50]  Varanwe Firehawk finds himself a seat, of which none are in short supply, takes out a scroll to begin writing to the queen. as he does this, he spies a dove. he walks over to the dove to engage its services to the queen. as he does so, he notices a scroll tied to its leg. he detaches the scroll, unfurls it and reads.
[20:51]  Varanwe Firehawk: *jaw drops open as he reads the scroll*
 [20:52]  Nexus Kabila looks around trying to figure what would cause a whole land to leave.
[20:52]  Varanwe Firehawk: mela.....this is the scroll i sent some days ago.
[20:52]  Nexus Kabila turns to look at varanwe. See his jaw drop and loos at him questioningly.
[20:52]  Varanwe Firehawk: informing the king of our impending arrival.
[20:53]  Varanwe Firehawk: he never received it.
[20:53]  Nexus Kabila: You mean........*looks at him aghast*.
[20:53]  Varanwe Firehawk: i do not know....
[20:53]  Nexus Kabila: They have been gone longer then we may have first thought.
[20:54]  Varanwe Firehawk hurriedly writes out a scroll to queen comet. he then attaches this scroll to the dove and instructs it to fly for sylvhara to the palace of her majesty, which the dove does forthwith.
[20:56]  Nexus Kabila: There is something very wrong. I fear.......I fear for what it may be love.

*A message from Varanwe to the queen*

 [20:56]  Varanwe Firehawk: "vedui', tariamin. we have arrived in the court of king olwë. however, none were here to greet us. in fact, there are none here at all, including the king. i fear something terrible has happened here. we will remain for a while in the hopes that some return. otherwise, i seek further instruction. by your command....varanwë."

 > Next Alqualondë     

Comet Sends Another Message to Olwë

< Previous Sylvhara

Alloyisus squawks loudly on the terrace. She rushes to the doors and flings them open.  Comet Quijote searches the little mail pouch and finds only her own message returned to her.

Alloyisius hops to the floor and grabs a large moth in his talons.   He begins eating it greedily and with a distinctive crunch as he snaps it's body in half with his beak.

Comet Quijote winces and returns to her desk.  Comet Quijote sits down again and begins to write another message to King Olwe

My Dearest Cousin
I have not heard a word in ever so long and have sent many messages
Varanwe stops at Alqualonde soon. If you receive this message, please expect him and send news of yourself and lands to me as soon as possible
I wish to see you immediately and will come to Alqualonde. I believe you are vulnerable from Nurutumbo. These are dark times, beloved cousin. We must be mindful of the dangers and work together. Evil is rising. Please respond
Ever your faithful, Comet

Comet Quijote blots the parchment hurriedly and folds into a tiny square to fit in Alloyisius's pouch
Comet Quijote opens the door and the owl blinks at her. He appears to be finished with his snack
Comet Quijote reaches for him. He squats and waits quietly as she tucks the parchment into the pouch.
"Farewell, dear little owl. Take this to my cousin as fast as ever you can"
With a shriek, he launches from the terrace and disappears in the moonlight

> Next Sylvhara       

Olwë's Dream

< Prev  Olwë        
 {date unknown}

The great swan conveying Olwe deposited him safely at the base of  Mount Taniquetil, the holy Mountain and tallest of the Peloir Mountains on the edge of Valinor.  In gratitude, Olwe bowed to the snowy swan and strokes the luminous soft feathery head as the bird bows its head in return.  Then the swan turned away and without a backward glance and a great flap of its mighty wings, the bird took to the air and flew away.

Wearily, Olwe made camp and build a small firelight with twigs and branches.  Exhausted beyond thought, Olwe rolled himself into his bedroll, and fell asleep. 
Then the dream began....

The skies were angry, dark steel, with black clouds rolling across the sky swiftly.  The ground was mud beneath his feet.  His armor, cloak, and boots were splattered with it, and water had seeped into his boots over the days of travelling in hard, pounding rain.  Olwe's eyes roamed constantly up and down the line of elven warrior file past him, their coloring shown a myriad of lineages, all of them wearing determined expressions, somber, alert, anxious.
Some faces, he could swear he knew, though he had never seen their countenance before.  And as they continue to march past him, his heart pounded hard in his chest, and he looked nervous behind and before the train.

Suddenly the ground beneath them heave.  Horses screamed, rearing.  A discordant wave of elven voices rose, all startled, all in confusion.  Olwe turned and ran toward the head of the column, as fast as elven legs would carry him, but in his dreams, the air itself wrapped thick arms about his pistoning legs, dragging at him.  No matter how fast he would run, it would never be fast enough, he realized.   He felt the air about him change, grow more dangerous.  The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he drew up to a halt, lifting his eyes slowly to the skies. 

Above them, a cloud swirled and twisted upon itself.  Silence descended upon the column of elves as all their eyes, as one, looked up, watching the cloud.  Like black fingers, it seemed to clench and then the "hand" opened, fingers outstretched, and began to move toward them all. A fear clenched Olwe's heart, and he looked wildly around at the elves still staring.  "RETREAT, " he screamed at them.  "Hurrry, hurry, retreat." 

 He began to yell, reaching for the nearest horses, jerking on their bridles and turn them back the way they came, shaking riders out of a disbelieving stupor.  "HURRY, HURRY, turn the column....NOW!"

His eyes fastened upon a couple of rangers..."Spread the word, down the line, " he shouted.  He watched as the line turned on itself with agonizing slowness.  Then he heard the screams of those who were first in the line and their mounts.  Jerking his head around, he saw the cloud descend and both elves and mounts fall screaming to the
ground, and lie still.  Somewhere, someone screams his name, but he still moves among those elves who are riding, running, fleeing from the cloud, the miasma that is bringing low their comrades.

Then the very air about him blackened and he raised an arm, pressing his sleeve to his nose, trying to breathe through his mouth, using the fabric as a filter, but his throat burned, seared, and his eyes watered.  his nose dwas filled with a foul stench, and he chokes back bile.  He tried to keep moving to, herd and press others before him, to run, to fly to safety, but his head started swimming and his knees felt weak.  Stumbling, he took  a few more steps, his lungs struggling for fresh, clean air. 

He felt himself faling to the ground, his body screaming for air, needing air...falling....falling.....


He gasped and jerked away, the fire cold, his body in a cold sweat.  He sat up, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around his legs, rocking a little.  Slowly his breath eases, and he draws in a deep breath, as if he may never take another, and slowly lets it out. He turns a troubled gaze to the skies, to the moon, whose trip across the heavens was nearly completed.  Then he slowly rose and began to break camp.  "Today, I will see the face of Lord Manwe, " he whispers.  "I pray he gives my spirit rest...and hope."

> Next Olwë       > Next Alqualondë     

Evil stirs in Nurutumbo; does Morgoth return?

< Previous Sylvhara

Varanwe Firehawk

Lord Varanwë enters the plaza of Sylvhara to join Lady Nexus, who is about to show a new arrival to Sylvhara the splendor of the realm.  Before he can say even a word to her, a great voice is heard behind him, coming from the harbor.

"Greetings to all of the Realm of Sylvhara.  I would speak with someone immediately, for I have grave news."

Varanwë turns about to see Rik, the High Tyr of Uhre, swimming in the harbor.  He approaches the great dragon in respect, bowing.

"Vedui', belegaer. (Greetings, mighty one).  Be welcomed again in these lands.  But on what matter do you speak?"

The dragon raises his head and looks keenly at Varanwë.  "I am certain your queen is detained, thus I ask you, friend, to relay this message to her.

"Know then, that the dragon lands of Uhre have been attacked by orcs.  They came from the black land of Nurutumbo.  The land seems to awaken in darkness, as much activity is noted thence from our scouts.  The tower is rebuilt.  And balrogs have also been seen."

Varanwë looks stunned, as if hit from behind by a hammer.  Not a week previous, he had a terrible vision.  The ancient foe, the Vala Melkor, whom the Elves have ever called Morgoth, stood in Sylvamir Plaza, a small army of balrogs with him.  As the memory of this vision returns to flood his mind, he is shaken noticeably and seats himself on the shore, while continuing to speak to Rik.

"Then it is true.....Morgoth returns?" he says.

The Tyr looks quizzically at him.  "Morgoth?"

Varanwë looks up at the dragon, nodding gravely.   "In all the legends of Lothlorien told to me when I was a child there, it is written that the Valar, the Holy Ones of Iluvatar, The One, made war upon the treacherous Melkor, the mightiest of the Valar, and a rebellious, who desired all things to himself in the spite of all others.  He was banished from the circles of the world, not destroyed.  It has ever been feared that he might find the way through the Door of Dawn back to the world, and trap and destroy the sun and moon, plunging all the world into darkness.  He created the Orcs and Balrogs, with which he wielded a reign of terror across the Great Lands.  If what you say is true, especially of the tower, Morgoth has returned, or will so soon, and all are in grave danger."

The Tyr nods in agreement. "Which is why I have come to warn Sylvhara that all must be on their guard, for it is thought that such as these may turn their eyes hence.  You must inform your Queen at once.  Safe paths to you, elf.  I must continue on."

Rik rises out of the harbor and flies off hurriedly.

Varanwë rises and dusts himself off telling himself to be strong, as should the heir to the throne of his ancestor, Gil-galad.  He speedily reaches for a scroll and quill from his cloak and scratches out a message to Queen Comet, summing his conversation with Lord Rik.  At that moment, Lady Nexus approaches, her guest in tow.  She sees the look on Varanwë's face.

"What is wrong, my love?" she asks.

Varanwë rises and speaks, "Mela, I once told you of visions, did I not?"

Nexus nods.  Varanwë continues..."I have had one of the ancient foe here in Sylvhara.  From what the High Tyr says, it may come true.  Orcs have left Nurutumbo and attacked Uhre.  The black land awakens.......balrogs have been seen, and not only in Nurutumbo and Uhre...." he points his head sideways in the direction of Aryador.  "Could Morgoth be far behind?"

Nexus looks upon him with concern, seeking to allay his worries.  "Oh my dearest Varanwë, these are most foul tidings.  But I should fear not, as I have you at my side."

Varanwë's expression becomes even further pallid...."There is something else I have not told you.....something of a vision of mine own endangerment.   A dark presence comes from distant lands, blotting out the sun, and reaching for my throat.  I see no detail, for from this darkness, no light escapes to betray its owner.  But know that at its core, is the very embodiment of hatred and anger.  I fear for mine own life again, my love, but it is not anyone of Aryador this time who seeks me, and I will be taken far from you."

At this, Nexus becomes troubled.  "I shall not let anyone take you from me.  Can this not be prevented?"

Varanwë looks gravely at her and says in reply, "If it be the will of Iluvatar, and for unknown reasons, there is nought that may be done, for we might attempt escape, only to be found elsewhere and me taken anyway."

Nexus appears noticeably terrified, tears appearing in her eyes.  She offers a prayer to her god, Anubis, for protection upon Varanwë.  When she finishes, she continues..."Have you understanding of when this might occur?"

"I know not, but I fear it is soon, within days, perhaps."

"Then come, my love.   I wish your presence so long as I have you here, and mayhap you will not be taken, but yet shall remain with me, mela en coiamin."

As the two move off, Varanwë summons a dove for to carry his scroll to Queen Comet, hoping that she receives it quickly.

> Next Sylvhara       

Dominique's Quest

< Previous Sylvhara

by Dominique Darkwatch

Dominique is pondering and praying about her place in the realm and in the guild. She has been an acolyte almost longer than anyone else and has seen others promoted to journeyman within the guild who had not been in nearly as long. She does not feel jealousy toward the others as much as certain emptiness as to her own purpose and where she fits in. So she has been spending more and more time in contemplative prayer to her god, Eru Iluvatar, the elven god of creation.

It was while in one of these contemplative states that Lorien granted Dominique a vision of a tree with bright pink blossoms. She is filled with wonder at the sight of this beautiful tree and knows not what it means. Then, she spies something resting beneath the tree. As she approaches, she sees that it is a beautiful harp. She gently picks up the harp, runs her fingers across the strings and is surprised that she is able to immediately begin playing it. What does this mean?

Dominique Darkwatch runs her fingers over the harp and is amazed at the beautiful music it makes as she plucks the strings. As if by magic she is able to play a tune that rises and is carried by a soft breeze.

Nienna hears a faint sound from a distance and attunes her ears to it. She follows the tune to its source to a place near the water and under a blooming tree. Underneath the tree, she sees an elf maiden who is playing a musical instrument. Her eyes widen as she recognizes the instrument as one that had been played long ago by Salmar the maiar under the golden tree, Laurelin. Indeed, the vision of the elf maiden playing under a beautiful tree brings great wonder as well as some bitter memories of what has been lost.

Dominique Darkwatch notices the approaching figure and smiles while continuing to play: Greetings!

Nienna looks at the she elf, watching her hands move over the harp. The music washes over the vala and she feels soothed and refreshed.

Dominique Darkwatch sees that this being who has approached has an extraordinary countenence and feels power emanating out. Her eyes widen and she stops playing and drops her eyes to the fground in reverence and awe: I am sorry milady, I hope the music did not disturb you.

Nienna smiles at the elf: No, not at all! It is I who am sorry to have interrupted your playing. where did you get that harp?

Dominique Darkwatch begins to set the instrument down: I found it...here under this tree. Is it yours? I did not mean to disturb it.

Nienna shakes her head: No it is not mine. I am Nienna, of the Valar. I heard your beautiful music and wanted to hear more.

Dominique Darkwatch curtsies reverently: I am Dominique, but most call me Dom. I come from another land, seeking truth and guidance. I was given a vision that brought me here to this place, where I found this harp.

Nienna nods slowly, and taps her chin thoughtfully: Hmm...perhaps the harp is part of your destiny. Tell me more of your quest.

Dominique Darkwatch looks up at the Vala with hopeful eyes: I am an acolyte in the cleric guild and seek to serve Eru Iluvatar as my deity. I would also seek to honor you and all of the valar in His service. Few in my land remember your names, let alone your deeds. While I have read many of the scrolls describing the deeds of old, I needed....more.

Nienna raises an eyebrow: More?

Dominique Darkwatch looks down guiltily: I needed something more in order to help my faith. Sometimes I feel so helpless and small, and I wonder if Eru even hears my prayers. I am also charged with healing those who are wounded in battle, and am often overwhelmed by the blood and violence. I wonder if I am even doing the warriors any good. I often feel lost and confused and try to put my hope in Iluvatar and His will, but it is difficult in the face of so much death and destruction.

Nienna nods with understanding and wonder. For she feels for this elf and her mission and wishes to help her. After some moments of thoughtful silence, she speaks to the young cleric: I believe you have the strength within to accomplish your destiny. Do you have the will and desire to serve Eru Iluvatar, even unto death?

Dominique Darkwatch nods solemnly: Yes. I would. In the service of Eru as well as the service of healing our brave warriors.

Nienna nods approvingly: Then I think I can help you.

Nienna points to the harp: That is no ordinary harp you have and the music that it plays contains much magic that can calm, sooth and heal. It was played under the golden tree long ago by another Vala named Salmar. Each string is like one of us before the beginning of time when our music came together to create the Arda and the first born of the children of Iluvatar. So all strings work together to create the beautiful music that helps others. it will also help strengthen your faith and help you reach and encourage others. Whenever and wherever you play, you will know that Iluvatar loves his children.

Dominique Darkwatch looks down, feeling flushed with this enormous gift. Her eyes become a bit misty, and she does not know why, but tears begin to flow down her cheeks.

Nienna looks at Dominique with a deep compassion and even love: My child, I also give you a personal gift of mine that will also help you in your healing. For it was my tears that watered the two trees. It was my tears that washed away the defilement of the trees when they were destroyed. My tears are tears of compassion, as well of sorrow. I am passing on the gift of tears to you. Your tears will also help heal others and help things grow as well as help wash away some of the evil that is around you. Your tears will be a blessing to all who are of the light and a curse to all those of the darkness. But be wary, for not all who appear light are of the light and not all who appear dark are of the dark.

Dominique Darkwatch nods and sniffs, still crying. As the tears fall small sprigs of flowers appear where they land, which fills her heart with wonder

Nienna continues: But beware also, that shadows and darkness may seek you out. For they hate the light of the Eldar above all others and will try to snuff it out. Be strong in your faith and you can overcome it.

Nienna smiles

Dominique Darkwatch sniffs and looks up at the Vala questioningly

Nienna smiles warmly at the elf: You will build your faith by doing your good works. Help and ease the suffering of all who are in need. They will know the truth of Who you serve by what you do. For just as darkness hates the light, light also seeks after itself. Always spread the light.

Dominique Darkwatch sniffs a last time, looks up at the smiling Vala and smiles back

Nienna grins: Now play something for me on your new harp – it has been so long, it is indeed refreshing to hear it again!

Dominique Darkwatch: you mean i can keep it?

Nienna nods: Indeed! Iluvatar has willed it! This harp will follow you to whatever age you are from and to whichever realm you belong

Dominique Darkwatch picks up the harp and begins to pluck the strings with as much love and devotion as she can. As the music issues forth, she feels her spirits lift even more, except now she feels a certain inner peace. While playing she looks at the Vala and smiles: Thank you!

Nienna smiles warmly back: You are most welcome! I do not normally interfere in the matters of the east anymore, but I do bless your quest and your search. I hope it yields fruit for you.

Dominique awakes from her slumbering trance and finds that she is, indeed, cradling the harp in her arms.

> Next Sylvhara       

The First Night of Olwë's Journey

{date uncertain} 
< Prev  Olwë       

The giant swan landed with the soft swoosh of feathers and the gentle bump that betokens the grace of the breed.  Olwe dismounted on shaky feet,  his hand upon the heaving side of the bird and felt tremors of exhaustion go through the white swan.  For a moment, he leaned against the bird, hunger and a deep ache from being so long in the saddle told him more of the distance he had travelled than any star in the sky, for the moment.  Taking a deep breath, he stroked the swan's neck lovingingly.  The swan, in turn, craned her head around to regard the elven lord with a eye round and dull with weariness. Pushing off from the bird, Olwe walked stiffly a little ways and started to gather dry wood for a fire.  The wood was green and the fire more smoke than light, but Olwe was glad of the warmth and huddled close to it, as the swan tucked her head under her wing and nestled down to a well deserved sleep.

Wrapping his cloak around him, he pulled out a well worn journal and his travelling ink bottle and quill.  Defly he opened the jar and dipped the nib of the quill in.  Tilting the journal so he could better see the page, he starts to write:

"Cold on this journey
and weary am I.
The Road stretches
before me.
No end in sight.
If I chose the wrong road
would happen then.
If I take the wrong path
Would I see you again?

My homeland is empty
the music is dead wind.
I hear only shadows
of voices now stilled.
If I am the wrong one
would darkness descend?
If I should fail
What happens then?

Oh, hear my pain in my heart.
Oh, hear the cold in my soul.
The spirit of those have gone
Call out to me in the night.

Every step I take
an echo it makes.
I walk alone
to an end I can't see.
If my steps should falter,
who would catch me?
If I have doubts,
then how can I lead?

Oh, hear the pain in my heart.
Oh, hear the cold in my soul.
The spirit of those have gone
Call out to me...in the night."

> Next Olwë