What one can find at the bottom of a bottle many may assume to know. Inns are strewn across the lands of Middle Earth which offer entertainment, social familiarity, nourishment or news from all over the lands. I too am no stranger to the pleasures they can afford. Yet what some find in the many drinks there can be had they take home, they are overtaken with, they bring to the lifes’ of their loved ones and friends, they destroy through their influence whatever good there was to be had in their world. I was to be witness of such a sad story and am now challenging myself to remember it as I have experienced it through the eyes of my closest friend and loved one. It all began with a promise.
By coincidence had Fiontann placed the man and woman to travel together on a quest to the lonesome lands. They took to each other well enough, though both were guarded by unspeakable memories, carrying around a guilt or pain they did not wish to betray to anyone. Battle though forces those that share it to become familiar with each others weaknesses and so it came that under a starlit sky close to the Forsaken Lodge they nursed their wounds and started to talk. Careful was the information they choose to share but it was during those dark hours that first the man called Arthasdir spoke about his former life, how he had served under a banner of justice and encountered evil doing as he could have not imagined parting him from this former life to vanish to unknown places until he appeared and joined the Wanderers cause. No details he would tell to me then but we promised each other that should the day come we may face our nightmares we would stand at the others side to whatever end.
Many weeks passed into months, many battles and travels we shared with our companions and as if led by the god’s good will we unconsciously grew into a tight family of friends and people in arms. Our respite we always sought in the realm of Ered Luin or the blue mountains, where Arthasdir saw to help me with my own struggles when to his own surprise a former dwarven friend sought him out with news about his past. As we had grown closer he now was ready to tell me of the brutality of what had happened. His Kinsmen had been murdered by none other than one of their leading men who was still seeking to end his contorted plans by chasing Arthasdir himself and by means of evil those close to him. The man named Fuerlan had lost his entire family, in which way I did not know, but great was his fury as Arthasdir related it. The time had come for he had no choice to either find his nemesis first or be found under terms he would not be able to dictate. But as circumstances would have it I was not to be at his side when he set out to follow his friend and brother’s call into the wild lands of the Shaws beyond the Last Bridge – farther than I had ever traveled before. Was our promise to be broken so easily? As I was sent on a task leading once more to the shores of the Evendim lake my mind was far away, my thoughts occupied by worry and displeasure. Important though or encounters there may turn out to be I longed to return and gather news. No answer had reached me to my messages though I knew they arrived at their destination. Achingly long the road back west felt to me though I showed it not, my weakness too was growing stronger. I knew I had little time left to fulfill our bond. Ah the disappointment and worries when we returned and found not only had Arthasdir not returned but one other of our company quirky as he may be had vanished on the road. It was now my turn to demand action and soon as many of us as could be gathered fast once more set on the road east – to follow our friends call for support into the destitute forsaken regions of what the Elvish folk call Eregion.
Much could be told of our travel, the lands bear signs of unusual activities wherever one looks. What were the tracks leading from the lone lands into the wild shaws? We deemed them carts but of whom and brought where to what purpose? And who where those two strangers in the deepened woods of the Trollshaws who approached me asking curious questions? I thought them Elves and they laughed showing themselves to be men as most of us are though they would speak nothing true about themselves. I was a fool maybe but mistrust had sharpened my perceptive skills. There is more about them then they related and I can only hope it will be not to our disadvantage in the future. Shocking too it was to me to find a belonging of Pren, our lost companion, buried in the mud of the wilderness. How had it gotten here and why was he nowhere to be found? They joy and excitement of traveling where I had never set foot before was diminished by the urgency of our call. I felt anger taking over what senses I had left, I had not been careful enough to insist on seeking help. In Eregion we set camp at the slopes of the Redhorn Pass. From there scouting groups were sent to find Arthasdir and his brother and friend. With the help of an Eldar that had joined our company for reasons unclear to me I finally was able to meet with him again. Little I remember of that moment but the anguish on his face and my legs refusing to bear me any longer as I fell before him overborne by weakness that finally allowed itself to be shown again. I would be able to stand by our promise after all.
The night passed quietly and too fast, before dawn we gathered ready to take action. We were to face Fuerlan in a camp of his choosing surrounded by mountains ridges that sheltered him in protection. Two groups were to advance from different directions. My heart was aching and fueled by anger so that by foolishness on more than one’s part I set out alone intending to make my appearance a timely surprise in the confrontation ahead. A surprise I was tumbling down the pathway from the upper quarters though my hands were needed. Many Brigand men had Fuerlan collected and continuously sent against us. It was no easy feat to enter the camp alone though Arthasdir’s brother lent me his help, grudgingly, and I bore away a wound to my leg before I was able to join the others. At long last what was left between Fuerlan and us was a wooden wall. By joint efforts and skills we managed to break through and be greeted by a gruesome sight on the other side. Arthasdir’s companions had been strung up and distorted for him to see, what sick mind could come up with such schemes I did not wish to ever understand. It was however his moment now. He finally stood face to face with the man that had pained his memory and angered his heart beyond relief and he was ready to end it. The two fought, with Fuerlan bearing their companions blade against Arthasdir in mockery while more Brigands where sent to keep the rest of us busy. To no avail, we prevailed though not unharmed. As I was free to look up I saw Fuerlan bearing Arthasdir’s bow, their words did not all carry over but when I made ready to step up to him an arrow was aimed and hit mark. I yelled in pain and dropped my shield as Arthasdir swung around. Blood oozed between my fingers as I stood furious unable to join the others in fighting him. I looked on as Fuerlan fought them, gathering all my intent and feeling as I kept the scene in my eyes. Again it was between Arthasdir and Fuerlan only and now it was my time to step up to them. Fuerlan was hurt, a shadow of the man he once may have been. He pleaded with Arthasdir, and now for the first time I heard how everything had come to be. It was him who murdered his family and in his anger made the guilt to be that of his company, his mind blinded by his need for drink. What a useless, sad way to live, murder and die. I was devoid of any feeling for this man. My bleeding hand reached for Arthasdir, and together we raised the blade of the Eagle Guard and ended the figure sprawled in the mud below. Silence descended and I moved to think. How hard had Arthasdir’s face been all these months and now it would be over for him. I smiled, a feeling of warmth spreading when I noticed his figure standing behind me. I turned and long was the look we gave each other. He had changed and all his demand now was free to be given where he wanted it. I could feel it. I knew.
So goes the story of Fuerlan who touched many lifes beyond his own estimation and whose influence can never be forgotten. On the way home we passed the mounds of those that had not survived the demons called by human weakness. We payed them respect and once more promised them to make worth our living future in their memory ever stronger. As they were part of Arthasdir they now were part of my story too and when I turned a single Sparrows feather slowly lay upon their graves.
As we mounted and caught up with the others we perceived trouble on the road ahead. A man was barrying the way it looked as though he had cornered our entire group. It was just while I wondered that my Steed reared up in terror and I was flung to the dusty earth….
Returned home to Ered Luin, Sparrow revisits in her thoughts some of what has happened during the last months as she sits by the docks under the ancient trees of Celondim.
