The Great Quest

Mal froze, as a form stepped from the shade to his side. Slowly rotating, he turned and looked into dark eyes, as puzzled as his own.

Mal showed no reaction at all, but inside, shock coursed through him. This man had the touch of shadow magic about him! Mal had known it had spread, as a lore, in the ages since he developed it, but had not expected to find a foe using it. And what was more, this one was strong, maybe stronger than him, in his still weakened, near mortal state.

Mal saw the other was a tensed to burst into motion as he was, and decided now was a time for diplomacy. He let a smile grow on his face, and bowed low to the other. "I think," he said wryly, rising back up, "we have much to talk about."

Vardor and Malagar seated themselves opposite each other, on pieces of fallen rubble.

"Sethris tells me that you worked for Melkor, before his fall," Vardor said quietly. "If it wasn't for our kinship in this, and that of our both using the shadow magic, I would not have come to answer your questions. But I am here now. What would you like to know?"

*Sorry, but this is the last post I can send. I'll try and post again in two or three days. And this does have to be a relatively blow by blow conversation. Vardor has a proposal to make, as well as answers to give.*

*OK - the rest should be fine, as it is the others mostly running from the enemies I am controlling. We can do this convo whenever you have a chance.*

"Aye," responded Mal, "I once worked for Melkor, quite shortly before his defeat. Though I was less one who served. I worked with him, perhaps is a better term, for I did a number of tasks he needed done. An ally, more than a servant, and only one other matched my power under him. Do you say you served him as well?"

Ulrog moved quietly through the trees. Everything had been going so well until that ugley looking thing had snatched his captive. He doubted very much it was a servant of the master. He had been expecting to see some of the master's giant bats or even some men on horses. Whatever it was it was probably dead now. Ulrog had seen the wolf-man leap after it. A battle with a rather large orc raiding party and not a scratch on him! Ulrog had found someone to fear as much as he did the master. Mission be damned. The wolf-man could keep Anya, he was getting as far from here as possible.
Slowly Ulrog became aware of a scent, carried on the wind from behind him. It seemed someone was following him. It was a mixed scent but he knew it. Wolf-man had met up with his friends, the ones who had captured him so easily before. Ulrog suspected it would be useless to try and hide his trail from the wolf-man. Already he could see the dawn forming on the horizon. He cursed the sun with a clenched fist. There was no way he could outrun them during the day. Everything had been going so well....

"I was. As were you." Vardor leaned forward. "What would you say if . . ." he hesitated. "Never mind, perhaps I will ask you later, when I know more about you. What is your name, what is your history, and what are the questions you would ask?"

Curiosity ran through Mal, but he kept it hidden.

"First, my questions. I wish to know of you, as you wish of me, your name and history. I wish to know your interest in this region, and with the elf. I wish to know your association with those who plagued me and mine."

Mal paused, weighing Vardor with a long look, before continuing. "As for my history, I am a Maia, of ancient times. I have lived off of the Valar's isle for nigh unto all of my existence, and have been many places in Middle-Earth, and elsewhere. I have been known, through times past, and now, as Malagar."

Harnauro nodded grimly at the approach of Faradin, and as he glimpsed Slythre entering the clearing, waited for her and the rest to come closer.

Faradin looks grimly on Harnauro, still not trusting him completely, but says, "We have had some eventful times, but our goal was completed."

Harnauro's gaze passed over Dania and Narsh with only brief acknowledgement. Then he spoke. "Where is Mal?"

Slythre gave a sigh. "We don't know. He went off, speaking of private business, and then vanished."

"I see." Ayna, to his right, fidgeted, rubbing her arm where the rope had s****ed her, and Harnauro, noticing her presence again, said, "The woman was not a spy, nor does she mean us ill. Strange forces seem after her as well, and some strange lizardlike being tried to take her."

Faradin frowns. "A lizardlike beast? Sounds eerily familiar to something we faced, that was working for those who captured Dania."

Eyes turned toward Dania, who was distracted, as Ayna was staring at her quite noticably...

*Actually, I'm afraid you'll have to edit those last two sentences. They don't know each other. Ayna sidestepped the question on page 1, and never really admitted knowing her, although she showed interest and surprise in hearing her name.*

Ayna quickly averted her gaze when she saw the others watching. She really was doing this badly. Everyone was noticing her interest in Dania, and that was not good. Although she sensed they probably were friends and worthy of probably worthy of her trust, she couldn't put them in the great danger they would certainly be placed in if she gave them the answers they sought.

"So what do you suggest as our next move?" she asked, addressing Harnauro.

*Sorry to drop the decision on you, but I really have a lot more ideas for other areas. You can take them wherever you like, involving them in your plot, or delving them deeper into mine.*

"And I am called, by the few that know my name and dare to speak it, Vardor." He smiled slightly, an unpleasant curling of the white lips. "Not a name that strikes fear at the sound, is it? But now we are introduced. And I will tell my history with equal brevity.

"I am also a Maia, like you. I had the powers of one, combined with the strength of Istari, and other magic wielding beings. My research in this area made me into a sort of recluse, not well known as one of the greatest warriors of Morgoth. When they attacked Morgoth's stronghold, Angband, his forces were scattered, much of my powers weakened, and Beleriand ripped apart. Since then, I have rebuilt some of my strength, enough to gain dominion over many creatures, who now serve me.

"As Sethris told you, my reasons for joining with your companies' attackers is almost entirely business. My feelings for your band of followers is only that they are a nuicance, and I would leave them alone if they would stop meddling and hand over Dania."

"Why is she so important to you?" Mal asked.

"I cannot tell you that unless you ally with me, and join my side, as giving that information to an enemy will give them the ability to destroy my master plan. My mission that I have worked for many, many years to complete. My great quest."

Mal looked, long and slowly, at Vardor. The situation grew ever more complicated... and he faced one who was once a servant of Morgoth. Not to ber trusted. Still...

"What would be my gain, should I choose to ally with you?" Mal spoke cautiously, and Vardor was a moment in replying.

Before he could do so, a tremor rocked the ground, shaking the walls of the castle. Both Mal and Vardor leapt to their feat, prepared for treachery from the other, but it was soon apparent that neither was responsible. After a moment, the quaking stopped, and for a number of minutes nothing more happened.

"I did not know this place was prone to quakes," Mal commented, wryly.

"Nor did I." Vardor's words were much darker, and he know looked about with a good deal of suspicion - but felt nothing nearby the castle, no other signs of life, and turned back to answer Mal's question.

*I have an idea for exactly what to do.. though it might start to take em a bit far from your plot. Still, I might find a way to tie our plots together....*

Before Harnauro could respond, Gungar spoke up. "Before Malagar left, he told us to head to the river, and find a craft and a way up to the north."

Harnauro frowned. A long journey, and through many ill lands. He was familiar with them, but wondered what destination Mal sent them towards. But... it did bring him, at least initially, closer to... He cut off the thought, and said harshly, "Then let us see to that. With those hunting us, we do not want to stay around here for long."

The party exchanged gazes, but recalling the warriors on their tales, they decided to go with that decision as speedily as they could. Exhausted and worried, they headed towards the river.

Fardin mused on the situation as they headed to the river. If they headed north it would take them towards Rivendell. Elrond and his house would wish to know of this activity and so would Aragorn, the chief of his people. Perhaps even Gandalf would be there, he had been spending alot of time in Rivendell recently.

* * * *


Gungar thoughts were dark as he trudged onward. He felt that what he was doing with these people were important; but he also had his errand to Minas Tirith to complete and every step he took was one step further from that city. As he considered leaving his companions his quick eyes caught something in the brush. He bent down to look and then called to his companions. Faradin and Harnauro looked at the small footprint in the soft ground and then Harnauro frowned. "That's the same orc that captured Ayna," he said without explaination of how he knew. He half-growled and then quickly starting walking in the direction of the scent of the orc; the others following quickly after.



*The first part is an explanation for why my two people may leave the party as I'm not too sure how long I can continue playing.*

"The reward would be given after the great quest was completed. And it would be a great one as well, important to you personally." Vardor looked at him more closely, gaging his reactions. "The return of all the powers that you've been trying to regain. You may wonder how I could possibly offer you this, but be assured that as soon as the quest is accomplished, it shall be easily possible.

"But before I inform you of what my quest is, I will need you to swear an oath that you will not betray me, give my secret to the world, or hinder my progress in any way. I know that this is a large leap in the dark, but the decision is yours. I do not ask for an immediate answer; you may have some time to think on this."

The rumblings came again, closer and more intense this time, and Vardor glanced at the ground. "A b'rak, do you think?" he asked calmly.

"Is it really necessary to chase this one orc?" Slythre asked. "Long before it can report, we'd be safely away. It's more cunning than most of its species, and I think it would be a large waste of time."

*I don't mind if Ulrog gets captured again. It's either that or linking up with some of the bad guys in some way. An interrogation could be cool, except that Ulrog doesn't know a lot about Vardor. I'll leave it up to you.*
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Ulrog trudged wearily through the trees. He hadn't slept for a while and the cursed sun was weakening him further. He pulled his ragged blanket around him in an effort to block the sun out. He had to keep moving. He could still smell the others. The scent had gotten a little distant. It looked as though they had stopped moving, for some reason. It didn't really matter though. The odds were certianly stacked against Ulrog in this chase. He was being followed by a tracker with greater skills than his own and it was during the day.

*There is basically no way Vardor would knoew of any creature called a B'rak, unless he was considerably more powerful than Morgoth at his height, or on the level of the reigning Valor at the moment. And sorry about my delaying a day or two in posting - spent the last 48 hours gaming, and such, and have had no time for food, sleep, or internet. ~grin~*

Mal sinks into a deep contemplation. Indeed, was this not what he sought? How, though, could he know this one spoke truth? And what of Mal's companions... still, when had he felt such in the past...
His mind swirled back and forth, and he softly said, "Give me a few moments of thought... this I must consider deeply..."

Harnauro thinks, at Slythre's question, but says, "My bow was left behind as well, in the direction the orc fled. It should be simple to capture it along the way, and surely it could tell us much. What ye do I care not, but my path goes this way."

*I couldn't post either for that amount of time, or even check. Now about the B'rak, Vardor studied dark magic and all the other offshoots of it from dozens of different angles. He has a network of spies that even links into the good guy civilizations, like the eagle kingdom and Rohan. I hesitated in making Elrov know of the B'rak's existance, but Vardor is a very different matter.*

"Think as long as you wish," Vardor said calmly, ceasing his stare at Mal's face. "You may contact me through either the fool Sethris, or the obsidian armored mercenaries. I shall inform them not to harm you on sight. They will lead you to where you can find me. When you've made your decision, contact me. But do not take too long. A great climax reaches the world and everything will draw together at a point, before the great change. If you still have not joined me by the time that happens, it is likely you will be forever lost, like most of the other inhabitants of Middle Earth. I do not mean to threaten you, merely warn you. I am sure we shall meet again, but until then, farewell."

He folded his cloak around himself, and shades of darkness swept up around him, cloaking him in blackness. The shadows parted and Vardor was gone.

Slythre sighed but nodded slightly. "All right, I'm just tired of that little orc spy, and wish we could be rid of him. We have little information to give away, should he lead anyone else to him."

She picked up her pace, and the others moved more quickly too.

After a time, the orc fell to the leafy floor, exhausted. He curled up in a ball, hidden from the sun by his cloak. And it was in this position that his pursuers found him a couple minutes later.

*I really would have to say the B'rak wouldn't be known to Vardor. I will explain more later, but truthfully, there are maybe half a dozen beings that may have ever seen one (other than the things it works with, who are utterly immune to being infiltrated.) As well, the B'rak, as a being, is something completely and utterly unrelated to magic. I can pretty much guarantee that Vardor has no real chance of knowing about this.*

Mal looked at the inky blackness marking the spot Vardor had vanished. A sigh rumbled through him, as he continued to ponder this dilemma. He wandered through the castle, eventually coming to the entrance of the mines, where they had broken into and stormed through the place. As he ran his hand along one wall, where the stain of blood had nearly faded away, a rumbling shook the castle. He spun about, now that Vardor was gone, suspecting treachery, but sensed nothing of the other. Another rumble shook the castle, and the mine he stood in began to collapse!

A dive took him back out the entrance and into the castle proper, but the stone walls still shook uncertainly as tons of rock buried the mine entrance.

Mal stood back up, as the trembling stayed constant, and gazed about, extending his senses. Nothing.

After so long trusting in his power, he was utterly shocked when it failed him, and a large monstrous form burst out of the rock pile that had been the mines. Mal jumped back as it leapt forward, clawing at him as its eyeless head spun in his direction.

Mal cursed, and his hands flickered between his garb and the beast, and a half dozen masterfully worked dwarven daggers flashed towards the creature - only to shatter completely upon its hide.

Noting how little the blade had effected it, Mal decided to risk using his power before fleeing. A flickering veil of shadows spun from his hands, but the creature lunged forward, ignoring the darkness. Eyes narrowing, Mal strung his hands together, adn all the darkness of the passageway grabbed at the beast, clutching it for a moment in place.

Then, the shadows seemed to pulse lightly, and then fade back to normal. Mal's horror was as great as the pain that suddenly racked his form, pain he had never felt before. Not physical, not mental, it was the pain as part of his soul was being ripped from him, part of his very essence drained and weakened within him. A gasp of agony burst from his throat, and he feebly tried to turn and run. Something hit him from behind, and he dropped to the ground, falling into a darkness not of his making.