The two healers were sitting in the heart of the old forge in Eregion, admiring for the first time in thousands of years the place where their parents used to work. The place where they escaped working in their youth.
Laurelindo was sitting with his note book in his laps, he had managed to make a simple drawing of the place, committing to paper what he saw of the forge itself. And now, on the page following the drawing, he was writing about how they came here. Tyulussë next to him was admiring the forge still, his own book out of his bag.
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Today has been eventful. I say today even though our day isn’t finished as of yet, since the night has fallen already.
Tyulussë seemed much better this morning. I am glad. He came to me, getting his pack and sword and asked me where we were going to for today. To that question I answered:
“Are you sure you are well enough? And do you think we could avoid trouble while going to the forge’s ruin?
-We have done naught but pick daisies for as long as I can remember. A little trouble will not go amiss.” Was his answer.
Well, I, for one, rather hoped we’d stay out of the wolf/warg/orc kind of trouble. Any other kind of “trouble” was… Well… fair game, up and including throwing Tyulussë in the water while he was fishing as he seemed well enough for that to happen.
We both admitted we wished to see the forge again. Which seemed kind of ironic, if we consider that in our youth we both did all we could to avoid the place. As I told him, I don’t know for his family, but I know that my father would either love it, or utterly hate it and wonder what kind of disaster I’d cause this time.
However, Tyulussë is quite right. As much as we hated the forge, it was a marvelous place, and we wouldn’t have been who we were at the time without it. One way or another.
Tyulussë seemed quite… impatient to go, and I couldn’t help but ask him to, this time, avoid the wolves. He answered me that if I didn’t attract them, he would avoid them. Ah! I did nothing to that first wolf that attacked us. It saw us or smelt us there and attacked on its own. Though I must plead guilty for the second wolf I ran into, as he reminded me.
He has a real talent for making me feel guilty when he so choose. Though he was right so I can’t really protest there.
We made our way down the camp and followed the old and damaged road to the forge. Of course, it couldn’t be perfect and we had to either go back and find another road or just jump down where the road seemed to have collapsed.
When I left the choice to Tyulussë, he answered “where’s the fun in that? You remember how to climb no?” All with a grin on his face.
And in truth, alone, I’d have jumped too. It just seemed… better to leave him the choice. It’s not like we were pressed by time or anything.
So we jumped and avoided broken legs and sprained ankles.
We got at the bridge over the river and as Tyulussë noticed: “At least this river has survived.”
I asked him if he still wished to eat fishes. And I am sure we’ll get to stop and fish at some point. Or more to the point, we’ll stop and settle to fish and probably will end up in a water fight. Or abandoning our fishing poles and play or write music. I can’t guarantee fishes, but I can guarantee fun at least.
When I think of all the times we avoided coming here… The idea still amuses me. As Tyulussë noted, “Fishing and flower-picking alongside the riverbank was far more exciting.”
We made our way to the ruin of the dining hall. How many times did we end up drunk in there, with the smith apprentices, singing disasters for songs? It was highly entertaining. More so than work at the forge itself.
Alas, between the dining hall and the forge’s entrance, there were three orcs around a fire. They hadn’t noticed us and we hid behind a fallen wall. I suggested going back. Tyulussë refused for: “He will not be chased off from his home a second time.”
I tried to convince him. After all, I have a terrible lack of skill where fighting is concerned. And I didn’t want to see Tyulussë as a patient again. Or worst.
He suggested that he could hid behind a pillar nearby and kill one and then only I could join the fight. I wasn’t entirely happy with this plan, as I told him. Besides, how many times had he had to heal a warrior whose plan went badly? The best plans never survives the first seconds of a battle. He should know that. And he knew that I’m sure. He just has a harsher temper than mine I guess.
“Then this will not go badly.” He answered.
I must admit I was all but convinced.
He offered me the choice to leave if I really wanted to, though he didn’t want to.
“Right, we’ll follow your plan, but I warn you, if you’re injured again, I’ll stick you to bed rest until the end of Arda.” That was my answer. Or something along these lines, and I was entirely willing to do it too.
It was already a miracle that these orcs didn’t see us coming. To leave we’d have to pass in their line of sight out of cover so… Our chance to avoid them anyway was close to nothing. I’d rather have a plan than just hope not to be seen and have be surprised by an attack at the worst moment.
And against all probability his plan worked and we survived.
He was in chock, I had a cut on my arm, but we were alive.
And as we survived, I am so giving his application for the order of the Hammer to lord Veryacano when we go back to the valley! Or to the first Hammer lord in sight. He won’t back down from fighting orcs then he will fit right in with the Hammer. Well, I know and he explained to me that it’s not every orc, but just these. The orcs in Eregion. In the forge.
I had to pull him back to our bags. And that worrywart of an elf absolutely had to see to that cut on my arm. Seriously it really was nothing to worry about. No poison, nothing particularly threatening… I had been lucky. Though now I had an armor to clean and repair.
“It appears to be merely a cut. Said Tyulussë.
-I shall resist the will to tell you I told you so…”
He asked if we should head back or continue. Frankly, we were here already. And there didn’t seem to be anymore danger, so… We could as well continue. One little cut wasn’t going to prevent me to see what was left of the forge.
Of course, if we met any other danger, be it wolf, or orc, I was decided this time to grab Tyulussë and run back to the camp. We weren’t going to keep being lucky indefinitely.
I gave him my waterskin to drink something before continuing our exploration and he said that “If there are more enemies in the forge, I will not force us to engage.”
We were careful to watch for more signs of orcish activity around but encountered no more problems. The doors were… Still impressive. I had forgotten how impressive they were exactly. And more surprising, as Tyulussë underlined, they were unbroken. And they weren’t stuck. We managed to open them.
The building is in a surprisingly good state considering, ceiling apart.
Tyulussë said he wondered if we could find anything of use here. Maybe. Probably not, but maybe.
Several doors were stuck close. Maybe locked. We found a mural painting of Annatar and several smiths…
“I remember them painting this. I thought it was so self-aggrandizing at first.” Said Tyulussë while looking at it.
And… Well, of course it was but frankly? As much as were the numerous statues of Celebrimbor or of one or another elven lord or elven smith.
From what we could see from the rooms with doors that we could open, nothing but the walls and statues remained from the forge.
That and of course, the forge of the city.
I remember long ago. There was so much activity here. One couldn’t hear himself think. There were so many smiths here, working, talking, arguing. And apprentices.
Somehow, being here reminds me of Failindo. As a jeweller from Eregion, he had worked here too.
Though, I still prefer the market place than the forge.
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Lacking of other occupation while waiting for Tyulussë to be ready to leave, Laurelindo started sketching Tyulussë who was concentrating on his own book… and felt somewhat glad he would never let Tyulussë read this book, for the drawing if it was vaguely similar was in no way perfect or flattering.
