The Wizard of Os

[Ithrynluin]

"The Council has come to a decision," said Yesterfox, an ancient looking man with a grey beard and a gloomy disposition. "It is deemed that the hand of fate has pointed to Brook in this matter and we will adhere to its will. He is chosen to depart in search of a cure for this cursed plague that has pitted our people into an unhappy decline. It is hoped that help may be obtained from a wizard in the far land of Ossiriand of whom rumours abound. The veracity of these whispers has not been confirmed, but Brooke is instructed to keep searching for the cure until he finds it and not to return until then. Go now with good fortune on your heels!"

Brooke sat under a tall, crinkled oak tree and kept repeating to himself the words of the Council he had heard just this morning. It was now afternoon already and he was anxious to come to a decision. Initially, his response was to simply flee the village, find somewhere else to settle down, and waive the nuisance goodbye.

And why choose him, of all people? Sure, many of the men who were otherwise fit to go and prone to adventure have been stricken down by the disease, but even so there were others who were not.

And why should he have to go merely for being the one to inadvertently slay the werewolf who had apparently brought this pestilence upon them. Even now he was perplexed by the improbability of the situation: A wolf has been snatching Brook's chicken from the henhouse for the past few weeks and Brook had dug up a hole nearby, filled it with razor-sharp spikes and covered it with branches and dry leaves as a snare for the beast. He contemplated the irony of the situation, how he had in fact caught a wolf, just a different one from the one he'd expected, but at the moment he did not find the thought particularly humorous and he quickly cast it aside.

In any case, the werewolf was found dead the following morning, impaled like a hog ripe for the roasting. Vials were found strewn about nearby, all empty save for one, which still contained a few traces of what appeared to be a thick liquid of a sickly green colour. During the night, many people had fallen ill, and the Council established that the ominous vials were the apparent cause. However, none of the local shamans were capable of concocting a remedy for something as devious as this.

Thus, they attributed Brook's slaying of the werewolf to fate and took it as a sign that Brook was the one to go. The absurdity of it! It was chance and nothing more. The miserable creature slipped on its way from the village and met its regrettable (as per its own perspective, not the villagers') end.

So Brook brooded over what course to take. He leaned his head back on the oak and cleared his head of excess thinking. For a while, he just gazed far into the horizon, where the ashen mountains met with the cloudless sky. Everything was clear, not a living soul in sight. Suddenly, in the distance, a large bird swooped into his line of sight. He watched it glide leisurely for a while and established it was an eagle, one of those enormous ones that roost on the highest peaks only. Then the majestic bird made a swift u-turn and headed towards its home.

This last image evoked such an intense fountain of wonder and sentiment in Brook, that for a while he just sat there, motionless and overwhelmed, his jaw ajar.

Yes, there is adventure to be had in the world, and an unquenchable thirst for it awoke inside him, a feeling that has long lay dormant. And just like that, he decided to accept the quest imposed upon him.

He ran back to his home, stuffed a few items of clothing and food into his weather-worn backpack, whistled to Breeze who stormed into the room wagging his tail, and before he knew it, their feet were pressing down on the tall spring grass, and they were heading for the Misty Mountains under the cover of dusk.

[YayGollum]

Brook wasn't the only one who spotted the giant eagle. Miserably stuffed into a cleft, another noticed a dim shadow speeding away. By the time he could unwedge himself, the bird was fading from view. "No! Wait for me! Argh! Ugh! I shouldn't have acted so haughty with that little elf! Although, it did say something about a herd of humans living nearby. They'll take the wounded, especially when they're as impressive as I am! Well, they should, anyway. I hope."

Any alert eyes would have then seen another giant eagle feebly flit its way to a convenient vantage point. This one was a lot smaller and younger looking than the majestically soaring example. Its wings were held painfully, but he used them in spurts long enough to get him high enough to see for an impressive distance. "This was the direction that the little guy pointed in, but I don't see anything. Oh...hmph. I'll try to get some distance tomorrow. Got to find some water or some meat soon. I'm sure that they'll know where the eyries are. Right? They all look up to us!" After a few more unsuccessful scans at the valley, he whined nervously and tried to wedge himself back into his hiding spot.

[Ithrynluin]

The night air was fragrant with the scent of flowers and blooming trees and stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky. Brook could not imagine better circumstances for walking. Breeze seemed to enjoy himself as well, prancing about, sniffing out hidden smells, ever conscious of the playful presence that is found in all things but is nowhere at once, as dogs are wont to be.

"I think we've walked enough for the night, Breeze. The High Pass is in sight now, and should be there at around noon tomorrow. And I think the waxing moon is beckoning us to halt and bathe in its light for the remainder of the night."

Brook winked to his four-legged buddy and it was as if he understood his master's intent. He checked their surroundings once more, and then chose a spot for himself not far away from Brook.

Brook pulled a thick cotton blanket over himself, as the cold mountainous air was giving him a chill. He fell asleep even as starlight was mirroring in his half-closed eyes.

[YayGollum]

A cautious rustling in the direction of his supplies might have awakened the guy up. If not, his dog's growls and barks probably would have. In the dark, only a blurry humanoid shape hovering over his supplies could be discerned. The dog advanced on the shape, which pulled away, revealing long and dagger-like claws that reflected the light, every now and then. A hissing and evil sounding voice came from the shape ---> "Be quiet! I hate dogs!" Since the dog probably didn't understand or care, the shape spread itself out to assist with intimidation, then decided that it would be quicker to just grab the supplies and get out of there. It hopped over the dog and punctured a pack with its claws. "Where is it? Stupid werewolf!" The thing would have what was probably its back turned to the human, who was probably very awake, by this time.

[Ithrynluin]

Brook was stirred from sleep by an uncanny feeling of fear. Had he merely been dreaming? Breeze's loud barks reminded him that it was most probably not so. The dog was turned towards the north, the fur on his back prickled upwards, bits of froth gathering in the corners of his mouth, his sharp teeth gleaming white. It took some time for Brook's eyes to adjust, but eventually he espied something in the direction Breeze was looking in. It was a strange sight: it seemed to Brook that it was too large to be an ordinary man. It was also moving unnaturally fast and was somehow...blurry, as if some strange fog was wrapped around it.

He looked around their small encampment, and noticed a sizable rip in his backpack. Closer inspection yielded encouraging results - nothing appeared to have been stolen. We're in luck, boy, he uttered to Breeze, none of our already frugal supplies were snatched from us." He helped himself to some beef jerky, and gave some to his four-legged companion as well.

So, this was just a thief in the night. He almost believed that but for the warning of his heart.

[YayGollum]

The thing instinctively sped back to a safe vantage point since the dog wouldn't stop making noises. He wasn't there long when human's voice made it freeze. The shape bored what were most probably its eyes into the human. It grew larger, snuffled menacingly, and glided closer while holding a clawed hand out. "Huh! I have no interest in your breads and dried meats! But I do feel generous, today. Give me what you are hiding, and I will promise not to devour you! You actually did me a favor by killing that old wolf! Don't bother lying to me. It was simple to gather that you are carrying his poison. Where is it? It is of no use to you."

As the Balrog advanced, the handicapped eagle hopped towards them. He had heard of such creatures, but because he had expected them to be far more fearsome, he was not afraid to come closer. The Balrog was too self-centered and focused on his goal to notice the giant bird, which was hanging back to see if the human actually needed his help.

[Ithrynluin]

The shape came back, catching Brook, and even his dog, at unawares. The sinister presence, the likes of which Brook had never witnessed before, demanded that he yield the remnants of the vial to it.

The fear exuding from the menace was pressing on him, more with the passing of each moment. Different ideas tossed and turned around his mind, but none seemed plausible enough, and he'd have laughed out at the absurdity of some of them if the situation was somewhat dissimilar.

He retracted a couple of steps backwards and almost tripped over what he assumed was a large rock. It had turned out, however, that Breeze -- cowering from the growling shape -- had taken refuge behind his master.

He whispered: "Great thinking, you dull-witted mutt. As if we weren't at great enough a disadvantage already."

Shifting sideways, Brook espied another shape from the corner of his eye. It appeared to be some sort of large bird, an eagle most likely. It was just standing there, as if petrified, with a rather curious expression on its face.

The thing advanced, growling under its breath, shifting Brook's gaze away from the eagle. He knew he could not afford losing those last few drops of the poison which might prove of utmost importance in concocting an antidote. Thus, he saw no other alternative than to try forwarding the vial to the eagle, who at least could fly away with it despite the fact that Brook did not know where its allegiances lay.

He quickly stuck his hand into his backpack, pulling out the desired item. He placed the vial into Breeze's half open jaw and commanded him to "Go! Run!", hoping -- against good judgement, perhaps -- that the canine would read his intent and deliver the small but precious cargo to the eagle.

Breeze swooshed forward and so did Brook, but in the opposite direction. While he ran towards a cover of trees, he turned his head and noted, with relief, that Breeze was nearing the eagle with great speed.

[YayGollum]

The Balrog reeled back with surprise and frustration when the human refused his generous offer. After a rumbling growl meant to vent his frustration while startling his prey, he hurtled towards Brook. Even with its adrenaline pumping, the pathetic human couldn't outrun the smoke. With a blow that would have produced snarls of contempt or outright guffaws from any respectable Balrog, the thing knocked the legs out from under Brook, taking care not to cut them with his daggerlike claws. This demon preferred to torture its victims, when he had the inclination to, only if they started out whole.

"Enough! Why do you insist on wasting my time? I wasn't going to sear the information out of you, but congratulations on succeeding in changing my mind!" To prevent any further attempts to escape, the evil thing hovered nearby, using its smoke to blind and choke the guy while poking him with its claws if he tried to move away.

Looking up to check where the guy's animal ran off to, he jerked with anger and fear when he saw a giant eagle standing proudly in the campsite. "What are you doing here? You things police this far out, now? I am only taking what's mine! Stay out of the way, and I won't come back for you!" The Balrog shrank and backed away from the unfortunate human, though, when he saw what the giant eagle was grasping in his talons.

The giant eagle glared fiercely and tapped one talon on the bottle experimentally. "Fly back to your pits, insignificant one, and I won't have to try these last few drops on you! And don't even think about coming back for this! I am Knockondor, the commander of the newest guard on the eastern Hithaeglir, which makes it my responsibility to confiscate this and report enemy dealings in these lands. I advise you to abandon any hopes of success in this region."

Steadily backing away, the Balrog snarled and leapt into the air. As a parting remark ---> "Ha! You'll regret not dealing with me when you had the chance, human! And as for your unexpected escort, his feathers will make fine decorations for my legions!"

[chrysophalax]

It had all started out as a gag, really. An attempt to avenge himself on that insufferable ingrate, Carcaroth, who was always stealing his thunder and making Trofast look like a fool. Instead, his little plot had had much more far-reaching consequences than he ever could have hoped for! In essence, this is what happened...

Trofast had just discovered that once again Carcaroth had been allowed to guard Lord Melkor's throne room and Trofast had been sent to clean out the dungeons of unwanted prisoners. It just wasn't fair! After all, it was he that all the higher-ranking werewolves looked to whenever they needed a certain potions for "diplomatic" purposes. It was he who had studied at Lord Sauron's knee, not these other ingrates!

Why me? he whined as he trotted down one of the many spiral staircases leading into the bowels of Angband. Why is it always me who gets stuck with doing this? This is far too menial a task for one as talented as I and besides, everyone knows there's no meat on these pitiful wretches anyway! As he set about the thankless task of getting rid of the garbage, his thoughts dwelt on revenge and at last, his own vanity helped him hit upon the perfect plan.

Fueled with inspiration, he gulped down the last bit of stringy meat and ran as fast as he could to his own rooms just down the hall from where his own lord, Sauron, stayed. He reverted to his human form and slammed the door behind him and locked it fast. "Now, where is that book of potions I nicked from my lord's kitchen the other day to pois-uh, help ease dear Carcaroth's aching fang? Ah...here!" He thumbed feverishly through the pages and there it was! Chapter 13, Vengeance, Potions in aid of. He snickered as his eyes looked down the list of possibilities:

I. Fleas...(too obvious)
2. Arthritis...(not painful enough)
3. Ringworm...(not humiliating enough)
4. Mange...

He smiled an evil smile. Of course! How simple and how disgusting. As he went to gather the ingredients (especially the Dragon bits, which would require great care in the obtaining thereof) for his Mange Potion, he was already envisioning Carcaroth having to appear before Melkor without any fur, encased the sores of a truly advanced case of mange. Perfect!

Of course, not all went according to plan for, unbeknownest to him, his immediate superior, the only one he had dared tell of his brilliant scheme, in fact, had snatched his potion once bottled and poured it into the nearest well, where it proceeded to poison every water aquifer for leagues to the south. Carcaroth had laughed long and loud when the werewolf leader had filled him in on the "joke" that had been planned for him and once again, Trofast had found himself you-know-where. But only for a short time, for word began to filter back to the denizens of Angband that a deadly illness was afflicting the villages that lay to the south and Sauron, sharp cookie that he was, discerned the cause. Trofast's "Mange Potion".

Suddenly, he was a hero! His one weakness, dyslexia, had been his salvation, for instead of turning to the page with the mange recipe, he had turned to a plague recipe instead. He was over the moon (so to speak) with joy. He had at last been given the honour he was due,(his erstwhile friend having been quietly done away with) and been given his own fortress from whence to brew further evil. Now all he had to do was supervise the putrid progress of the potion and hire a food taster. Trofast was nobody's fool!