Actually, this is incomplete. I wanted to write more for this chapter, but things weren't working out as nicely as I'd hoped. What the hell, I like the way this ends. :)
Prologue
About the story
Chapter I
Chapter II
Though Celeborn greatly desired to speak to Gandalf soon after the Council was adjourned, he never got the opportunity to. Great were the preparations in the realm of the golden wood, and their pace greater still. He found his attention and presence needed in several places in his realm. With the marchwardens of Lothlorien and their first captains, he held long discussions that went on much after the Anor set and Ithil rose over the boughs of the mellyrn. More than half the sentries were being pulled from their posts for the assault on Dol Guldur, but Celeborn had no intention of compromising even a little on the defenses of the realm.
Elvish presence south of the Celebrant was cut down to well dispersed and well hidden scouts. The river was the main line of defense against any force that came out of Moria. Even the calm and slow-moving Nimrodel now possessed a raging force. The lady Galadriel put forth her powers into the waters, and now the Celebrant hurtled down as if in a rage. To any army coming out of the west or the south, the river became all but impassible. Only Elves with their nimble feet could do so, impeccably balanced on slender ropes between trees on either side of the river. An intricate array of connections were also made between trees, so that an elf could travel from the northern fringes of the realm to the southern, feet never touching the ground.
Antannel of Eastmarch and Emeldil of the North were to lead companies, and their first captains were given charge of the marches. The first captain of Westmarch was also promoted in the same manner, as Haldir was named commander of the armed forces to be left in Lorien.
After a long week of touring Lothlorien's borders and assessing the defenses, Celeborn returned to Caras Galadhon, but not for rest. Elven smiths from Rivendell had rekindled forges in caves outside the city, which had stood silent for many winters then. It was no small effort to sharpen enough swords and repair enough armour so as to fit an army thousands strong, not even if they were made of Elven steel. It was not all that Celeborn had in mind for them though.
In the second age, on the run from Sauron's forces that had invaded Eregion and killed Celebrimbor, Celeborn and the lords-to-be of Rivendell had chalked out various plans to counter the enemy. Outnumbered more than four times over, and crushed during the invasion, the survivors of Eregion and those under the banners of Elrond Halfelven were hurrying north, trying to evade Sauron's minions. The son of Earendil had been a warrior then, the herald of Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor. He together with Celeborn, Glorfindel and other lords had long discussions during the sleepless nights between endless sorties. Killing the enemy was not so important then, not as much as surviving was. Not only did they have to take on armies of orcs and corrupted men many times their size and hold them, but they also had to stop their retreats from becoming routs, they had to live to fight another day.
Elaborate tactics had been drawn up: using cavalry to disguise the retreat of infantry. The clouds of dust trotting cavalry raised up would hide any movement beyond it. The enemy would give chase thinking that they were near, and the cavalry would retreat in haste, but only till they reached the infantry. The enemy, tired from the unexpected length of the chase would meet fresh infantry, who could then take them on with ease.
They had thought of digging trenches around battlefronts to remove the enemy's advantage of numbers. These trenches became doubly effective when filled with broken swords, mail and helms - anything otherwise unusable that was left on the battlefield.
They had thought of tower shields and lengthening their spears; of using formations for shield-bearing infantry that completely shielded them from arrows; of using crossbows with cranks that would make them as quick-firing as bows.
Then, thought Celeborn, wryly now even though his relief had been incalculable back then, they had stumbled on to the valley of Rivendell while retreating to the north. Discovery of this valley had changed everything. An impossibly safe valley, as it had seemed at the time. Hidden among the cloud-brushing Hithaelgir, Sauron's minions were never able to find it. The few who came even slightly close never went back. Their plans and ideas had remained so for more than an age.
Now Celeborn sought out Glorfindel, who was outside the city, conducting war games between companies of Elves from Lorien and Rivendell.
Weapons of attack the Elves had in plenty, but their defensive weapons were weapons of a different kind. Defend they did marvelously, but they did so by concealment, using hidden bows and javelins thrown from the darkness. The Sindarin Elves of Lorien had become woodcrafty beyond compare, Silvan tactics uniting with remnants of Doriath and Nargothrond and scores of realms that had not survived to see the Third Age. This when combined with the art of the Galadhrim in making their cloaks, the Elves became all but invisible.
All this was of greatest import whilst going upon Dol Guldur unannounced. But on engagement, Celeborn thought, all would change. Outnumbered as the Elven forces would certainly be, if the tides turned, if the element of surprise was spent entirely, they would have to somehow hold up against maybe twice their number in orcs, wargs and all manner of creatures of the dark. Only if the enemy's numbers could be managed, only if the Elves remained in complete control of the battle could the superior Elven prowess keep the battle in their favour.
Celeborn and Glorfindel started chalking out their plans. What started early one morning, went on through the night till noon the next day. In that time, they abducted three of the finest Noldorin smiths from their other work and supplied them with numerous designs to forge and fabricate. Many finished designs were discarded, a select few considered and built upon. At long last, the two Elven lords were satisfied.
The outcome was a spear. Perfectly balanced, a cunningly crafted iron brace on the blunt end weighed against the spearhead. The spearhead was a sinuous and leaf-shaped and for good measure, a guard was placed two feet behind it so that the spear could be removed with ease from anything it might get lodged in. On closer inspection, one could make out that the spear was not a single piece but two, that were fitted together with a metal collar.
The outcome was a spear, sixteen feet long.
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As much as I would love to claim the weapon as one of my own creation, I'm afraid it isn't so. Philip II of Macedon is credited with its invention. He crushed the Greeks with this lovely weapon. And his son Alexander went on to do the same with the Persians. All hail the mighty Sarissa!
Friday, October 12, 2007
Thursday, October 4, 2007
The Seer
When I am not busy whiling away my time with more fruitful things (Take that, Oxymoron!), I take on any online test I can get my hands on. This one I found quite flattering. Maybe because of it's distance from the truth. Or not.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Chapter II
Read the needful - the prologue and the first chapter before turning to this. If you want to, that is.
The White Council had adjourned by the evening of the first day. After a light meal all had retired, weary and exhausted after all the debate. Now all had gathered again for the second day of discussions. There was still much to be done, for the council had not yet even agreed to go ahead with anything. Saruman did not seem as hostile as he did on the first day. But neither did he seem weak of thought and mind, Gandalf mused.
It was he who began the day’s proceedings, starting off from exactly where he left off, “The threat of Dol Guldur is two fold – if we have to think of launching an offensive on it, we have to consider not one but two things. First, we must be capable of gaining an entry into Dol Guldur and be able to fight or drive out those of his minions he chooses to send against us.” Saruman made to say something but Gandalf quickly continued. “Secondly, we should be able to challenge the Dark lord himself, and overpower him. At the least we should be able to drive him out.”
“The leaf of the Halflings has dulled your wit, Gandalf. Did you wholly forget what all was said yesterday, or did you not even bother to hear any but yourself?” said Saruman dangerously. “It is fine for you to say ‘we need an army’. Whom will you go beg, the dwarves?”
“I suggest you ask the others here.” Gandalf said, with a rather patient expression on his face, pointing to the Eldar seated all around them. Saruman rounded on Elrond first, and then on Galadriel, but both seemed to be hesitant to say anything. However, a light in their eyes told him that they were quite serious. He quite unexpectedly caught the lady’s eyes, could not endure it for too long, and quickly did he shift his gaze.
“So does lord Mithrandir here speak the truth?” He had recovered quite well from the initial shock, diplomacy quickly replacing the incredulity and the surprise in his voice. “Are you my good lord and lady, changing your wise policy of blocking out all evil from this closeted realm of the elves?” He had never expected the elves to actually agree to come forth from their realms, especially not the ones of Lothlorien, who seemed so hesitant to go even to Rivendell. “I am certain that you all have not forgotten the sorrow of the previous ages, my lords. Death, suffering, loss – there was not an elf who did not despair from all this. Then my lords, you established fine havens – Lindon, Lorien, and Rivendell, worthy of more than just residence.” Saruman was not called an awe-inspiring speaker for nothing, even the great could he inspire, the powerful he could make humble and the wise he could convince. “It is within these realms that safety has reigned, even whilst the outer world is in sorrow. Yet, I see that the elves despair, seeking yonder shores while losing all love for the lands they are staying in. In spite of these havens of safety, their hearts sicken, and the call of the west overpowers their life.” He said, now looking straight at Elrond, who all of a sudden did not feel comfortable. “Yea, verily they find that healing in the west, but they leave those of us still bound to the east. But tell me, lords and lady, who are those who seek the west? Are they not those who left these havens? Are they not those who wandered in the treacherous ways of Middle Earth? There are none who sickened in the safety of these realms , and became lost to us.”
“Yet now I am told that the elves are again ready to go forth and battle – is it not folly? An elf, who might still sing fairly and dance merrily for many a thousand summers, is it right for us to send him to be needlessly butchered by orcs?”
A fire was smouldering in Gandalf's eyes, but he did not speak, for this was something for the Eldar to decide. Saruman continued, “Is it not enough that the elves have shed their blood for two ages of the sun? My lords and lady, if you had a duty to this world, you have done thrice as much. Should not this matter be left to the mortals, who are no short in number, and seem to be ever the happier in the taking of lives?”
Celeborn stirred. He usually did not have the patience to either give or receive long sermons, yet this once he endured it. He saw through all of Saruman’s intentions and was angered by the way he had singled out Elrond, by the way he had used Elrond's sorrow to sway his will. Celebrian’s passing was not something that Celeborn had accepted lightly. When he spoke, he was surprised that his voice was not at all harsh. When he spoke, he spoke as much to his wife and his son-in-law, as to the wizard. “Why do we live here, O Curunir, when the Valar have permitted all elves to go seek refuge in the west? Why do we linger, in darkness and in despair, when we are offered a place among the great ones? It is because we love middle earth, we love the stars and the sky and the land. This is home, Curunir, our home. We would do all in our power to protect that which we love.”
“But No! We elves have formed these self-same havens and started living in what we think is bliss. We think that we have walled out all evil, but Nay! All we have done is walled ourselves in.”
“No more! No more can I rest when the shadow spreads. No more can I stay calm when the night under stars is no longer safe, when the dark is no longer clean.”
Saruman was running out of persuasions by which he could stop what was happening. To begin with, he was unhappy that Celeborn had come for the Council meet. Elrond he found pliable, the once-herald of Gil-Galad was now a lore master and mainly desired peace. Though he had no power whatsoever over the lady, oh how he hated her, still he could have control as even she was usually reluctant to do anything outside her own realm. But Celeborn! He was too stubborn, too straight forward in thought to thwart. What frustrated him the most, was that what Celeborn had just said made sense even to him. He might have readily agreed with the idea of an offensive had it but come a few decades, or even a few year later, for he would then be in a much more powerful position by then. Now was too soon for him. He stayed silent, head bowed and pondering over some thought.
It was Gandalf who broke the uncertain quiet that followed Celeborn’s words. Galadriel and Elrond did have some misgivings that Saruman had kindled. He spoke not with ease but with pain. “There are some tidings that I bear, that none here know about.” Now that he had started speaking, he found it a trifle easier to continue. “In my journey from the edge of Mirkwood, I had to cross the Gladden River. It was when I descended to the water from the northern bank that I noticed it. There was an evil there, amidst the marshes – a presence I could not fully recognize, yet hauntingly familiar. Never had I felt this power since I last ventured into Dol Guldur. Here my passage was not going to go unnoticed, for here I was the one who had stumbled in. All I could do was to feign ignorance and move forward for naught else could I even attempt to do.”
“One can but see what this means. Sauron is looking for the One Ring. Yes, yes, every year you comfort us Saruman, by saying that the ring has passed down to the sea from the Anduin, and I will agree, if only for now. What should be of immediate concern to all of us is that Sauron’s might has certainly grown, if it has to reach the eastern edge of the Misty Mountains. He can no longer be taken for granted. We have to act now.”
All in the room were taken aback, disturbed by these tidings, not even Saruman could remain aloof. Nay, he still did not yield, nor did he speak. Finally Galadriel spoke, softly yet firm of mind. She had finally chosen. “Prudence is no longer a choice for us. Even now Sauron has the power to reach across the Anduin. We should look to our own borders. Is there not wisdom in the offensive?”
Elrond was the only one who had not spoken. At that moment he seemed too fidgety for so noble an elf. He kept fingering something in his hands, but stopped when the others started looking in his direction. With no small delay he made up his mind. “Yes, we shall come out. Rivendell will not stand aside, we will aid this endeavor as best as we may. We will do our duty.”
Saruman knew that he had lost. He sighed, weary of speech, aware that the offensive would serve him too. “Very well. I will yield to the Council’s wishes. We may yet be right in our actions. I will not hinder anything.”
“No, Saruman – indeed your refusal to hinder is not enough,” said Gandalf. “It is with your help that we can hope to achieve anything.”
“I am no warrior Gandalf, though you may fancy yourself to be one. I cannot fight!” said Saruman in alarm.
Gandalf laughed merrily. “No! We do not need you to fight. Hopefully, there are enough for that. We need your craft Saruman. We need your power to enter Dol Guldur. Let me elaborate.”
Elaborate he did, for the greater part of the day. Gandalf had not prevailed over him in the council for many score years now. As significant as Saruman's agreement for action was, Gandalf did not have a very easy time explaining his strategies to the other Istar. He faced sharp questions from Elrond and Galadriel, the elves had pledged support and were making sure that every risk being taken was a worthwhile one. Celeborn had a glint in his eye, yet he posed no question. He thanked the lord of Lothlorien in his thoughts.
As the council made to depart the chamber, Celeborn gave Gandalf a meaningful glance, and Gandalf tarried as the others moved past him. His words were softly spoken. "Dangerous is the path you tread, my lord, tread softly. A glimpse of the truth here, a flash of it there, you seem to have perfected the art of saying nothing but the truth yet pointing somewhere else."
Gandalf allowed himself a small chuckle. "Not so perfect then, if you saw through it. We shall speak in length, Lord Celeborn, and not just because you ask."
Celeborn nodded, and the twain followed the rest to climb down from the talan.
The White Council had adjourned by the evening of the first day. After a light meal all had retired, weary and exhausted after all the debate. Now all had gathered again for the second day of discussions. There was still much to be done, for the council had not yet even agreed to go ahead with anything. Saruman did not seem as hostile as he did on the first day. But neither did he seem weak of thought and mind, Gandalf mused.
It was he who began the day’s proceedings, starting off from exactly where he left off, “The threat of Dol Guldur is two fold – if we have to think of launching an offensive on it, we have to consider not one but two things. First, we must be capable of gaining an entry into Dol Guldur and be able to fight or drive out those of his minions he chooses to send against us.” Saruman made to say something but Gandalf quickly continued. “Secondly, we should be able to challenge the Dark lord himself, and overpower him. At the least we should be able to drive him out.”
“The leaf of the Halflings has dulled your wit, Gandalf. Did you wholly forget what all was said yesterday, or did you not even bother to hear any but yourself?” said Saruman dangerously. “It is fine for you to say ‘we need an army’. Whom will you go beg, the dwarves?”
“I suggest you ask the others here.” Gandalf said, with a rather patient expression on his face, pointing to the Eldar seated all around them. Saruman rounded on Elrond first, and then on Galadriel, but both seemed to be hesitant to say anything. However, a light in their eyes told him that they were quite serious. He quite unexpectedly caught the lady’s eyes, could not endure it for too long, and quickly did he shift his gaze.
“So does lord Mithrandir here speak the truth?” He had recovered quite well from the initial shock, diplomacy quickly replacing the incredulity and the surprise in his voice. “Are you my good lord and lady, changing your wise policy of blocking out all evil from this closeted realm of the elves?” He had never expected the elves to actually agree to come forth from their realms, especially not the ones of Lothlorien, who seemed so hesitant to go even to Rivendell. “I am certain that you all have not forgotten the sorrow of the previous ages, my lords. Death, suffering, loss – there was not an elf who did not despair from all this. Then my lords, you established fine havens – Lindon, Lorien, and Rivendell, worthy of more than just residence.” Saruman was not called an awe-inspiring speaker for nothing, even the great could he inspire, the powerful he could make humble and the wise he could convince. “It is within these realms that safety has reigned, even whilst the outer world is in sorrow. Yet, I see that the elves despair, seeking yonder shores while losing all love for the lands they are staying in. In spite of these havens of safety, their hearts sicken, and the call of the west overpowers their life.” He said, now looking straight at Elrond, who all of a sudden did not feel comfortable. “Yea, verily they find that healing in the west, but they leave those of us still bound to the east. But tell me, lords and lady, who are those who seek the west? Are they not those who left these havens? Are they not those who wandered in the treacherous ways of Middle Earth? There are none who sickened in the safety of these realms , and became lost to us.”
“Yet now I am told that the elves are again ready to go forth and battle – is it not folly? An elf, who might still sing fairly and dance merrily for many a thousand summers, is it right for us to send him to be needlessly butchered by orcs?”
A fire was smouldering in Gandalf's eyes, but he did not speak, for this was something for the Eldar to decide. Saruman continued, “Is it not enough that the elves have shed their blood for two ages of the sun? My lords and lady, if you had a duty to this world, you have done thrice as much. Should not this matter be left to the mortals, who are no short in number, and seem to be ever the happier in the taking of lives?”
Celeborn stirred. He usually did not have the patience to either give or receive long sermons, yet this once he endured it. He saw through all of Saruman’s intentions and was angered by the way he had singled out Elrond, by the way he had used Elrond's sorrow to sway his will. Celebrian’s passing was not something that Celeborn had accepted lightly. When he spoke, he was surprised that his voice was not at all harsh. When he spoke, he spoke as much to his wife and his son-in-law, as to the wizard. “Why do we live here, O Curunir, when the Valar have permitted all elves to go seek refuge in the west? Why do we linger, in darkness and in despair, when we are offered a place among the great ones? It is because we love middle earth, we love the stars and the sky and the land. This is home, Curunir, our home. We would do all in our power to protect that which we love.”
“But No! We elves have formed these self-same havens and started living in what we think is bliss. We think that we have walled out all evil, but Nay! All we have done is walled ourselves in.”
“No more! No more can I rest when the shadow spreads. No more can I stay calm when the night under stars is no longer safe, when the dark is no longer clean.”
Saruman was running out of persuasions by which he could stop what was happening. To begin with, he was unhappy that Celeborn had come for the Council meet. Elrond he found pliable, the once-herald of Gil-Galad was now a lore master and mainly desired peace. Though he had no power whatsoever over the lady, oh how he hated her, still he could have control as even she was usually reluctant to do anything outside her own realm. But Celeborn! He was too stubborn, too straight forward in thought to thwart. What frustrated him the most, was that what Celeborn had just said made sense even to him. He might have readily agreed with the idea of an offensive had it but come a few decades, or even a few year later, for he would then be in a much more powerful position by then. Now was too soon for him. He stayed silent, head bowed and pondering over some thought.
It was Gandalf who broke the uncertain quiet that followed Celeborn’s words. Galadriel and Elrond did have some misgivings that Saruman had kindled. He spoke not with ease but with pain. “There are some tidings that I bear, that none here know about.” Now that he had started speaking, he found it a trifle easier to continue. “In my journey from the edge of Mirkwood, I had to cross the Gladden River. It was when I descended to the water from the northern bank that I noticed it. There was an evil there, amidst the marshes – a presence I could not fully recognize, yet hauntingly familiar. Never had I felt this power since I last ventured into Dol Guldur. Here my passage was not going to go unnoticed, for here I was the one who had stumbled in. All I could do was to feign ignorance and move forward for naught else could I even attempt to do.”
“One can but see what this means. Sauron is looking for the One Ring. Yes, yes, every year you comfort us Saruman, by saying that the ring has passed down to the sea from the Anduin, and I will agree, if only for now. What should be of immediate concern to all of us is that Sauron’s might has certainly grown, if it has to reach the eastern edge of the Misty Mountains. He can no longer be taken for granted. We have to act now.”
All in the room were taken aback, disturbed by these tidings, not even Saruman could remain aloof. Nay, he still did not yield, nor did he speak. Finally Galadriel spoke, softly yet firm of mind. She had finally chosen. “Prudence is no longer a choice for us. Even now Sauron has the power to reach across the Anduin. We should look to our own borders. Is there not wisdom in the offensive?”
Elrond was the only one who had not spoken. At that moment he seemed too fidgety for so noble an elf. He kept fingering something in his hands, but stopped when the others started looking in his direction. With no small delay he made up his mind. “Yes, we shall come out. Rivendell will not stand aside, we will aid this endeavor as best as we may. We will do our duty.”
Saruman knew that he had lost. He sighed, weary of speech, aware that the offensive would serve him too. “Very well. I will yield to the Council’s wishes. We may yet be right in our actions. I will not hinder anything.”
“No, Saruman – indeed your refusal to hinder is not enough,” said Gandalf. “It is with your help that we can hope to achieve anything.”
“I am no warrior Gandalf, though you may fancy yourself to be one. I cannot fight!” said Saruman in alarm.
Gandalf laughed merrily. “No! We do not need you to fight. Hopefully, there are enough for that. We need your craft Saruman. We need your power to enter Dol Guldur. Let me elaborate.”
Elaborate he did, for the greater part of the day. Gandalf had not prevailed over him in the council for many score years now. As significant as Saruman's agreement for action was, Gandalf did not have a very easy time explaining his strategies to the other Istar. He faced sharp questions from Elrond and Galadriel, the elves had pledged support and were making sure that every risk being taken was a worthwhile one. Celeborn had a glint in his eye, yet he posed no question. He thanked the lord of Lothlorien in his thoughts.
As the council made to depart the chamber, Celeborn gave Gandalf a meaningful glance, and Gandalf tarried as the others moved past him. His words were softly spoken. "Dangerous is the path you tread, my lord, tread softly. A glimpse of the truth here, a flash of it there, you seem to have perfected the art of saying nothing but the truth yet pointing somewhere else."
Gandalf allowed himself a small chuckle. "Not so perfect then, if you saw through it. We shall speak in length, Lord Celeborn, and not just because you ask."
Celeborn nodded, and the twain followed the rest to climb down from the talan.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
The Dragon is no more.
"Let the arm of the Lord of the Dawn shelter us from the Dark, and the great sword of justice defend us. Let the Dragon ride again on the winds of time."
Robert JordanOctober 17, 1948 – September 16, 2007
We will miss you.
May you shelter in the palm of the Creator's hand, and may the last embrace of the mother welcome you home.
Taishar Manetheren!
May you shelter in the palm of the Creator's hand, and may the last embrace of the mother welcome you home.
Taishar Manetheren!
Friday, September 21, 2007
People
Hypocrisy is probably the most butchered word in the English language.
Pretentious the adjective most readily bandied,
and per se the most misused.
Hippocracy, hypocracy, hippocrisy, hipocrasy. And it has nothing to do with Hippocrates or the practice of medicine! A "hippocrate" is probably a follower of Hippocrates, no more.
People.
Pretentious the adjective most readily bandied,
and per se the most misused.
Hippocracy, hypocracy, hippocrisy, hipocrasy. And it has nothing to do with Hippocrates or the practice of medicine! A "hippocrate" is probably a follower of Hippocrates, no more.
People.
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