Category: Letters to my Brother

Swathed in billowing black cloaks in the shadow-blanketed room, a storm of darkness may well have surrounded Dullathaen.  He knelt down before a tall man on a small stool, a man closed like an iron chest, yet exposed as a sick animal.  He protected his identity with the shadow upon his face.

“You say it is Eru’s will,” Dullathaen said quietly; he could not help but say it that way.

The figure nodded warily.  There were murmurs around the collected crowd, at what Dullathaen knew not.  “You have been asked to address me as Se’r.  And it is indeed the will of Eru.  Do you doubt it?”

“No, Se’r.  I am deeply devoted to the cause, and to Eru, though his gift of death was not granted to my people.  It is only …”

“Your brother?” asked the cloaked figure.

“Yes, Se’r.  On one side I feel he is a weakness to the cause, but on another, he is my blood.  I cannot deny that.”

The figure did not answer for a second, sitting on his stool quietly instead.  Then, as if he had been standing all along, he rose.  Pulling open his cloak, he stared down at Dullathaen.  “You are all armed right now, all clad at least in two layers of clothing, and some with armour.  But I am protected only by my tunic and this cloak.”

With a flourishing motion, he dropped the cloak away from him.  It was still impossible to see anything other than his head, which was draped in hair black as the shadow around the rest of his body.  Suddenly, his voice rose to a sudden crescendo.  “I am cursed by the weakness of the flesh, as are you all, be you Elf, Man, Dwarf, man, woman, child, ancient, it matters not.  We all are cynicists, all unwilling to trust completely, all willing to let doubts take us and deceive us. Some of you could be drawn to kill me now.  I am so weak, so fragile, bearing no weapons, and little cunning.  Any may cut me down, but I do not fear it.”

Silence came, and he sat down on the stool, pulling his cloak around him once more.

“Weakness is our strength, Elf, true strength that all may have.  Not the strength of the body, which you are so burdened by.  We all have weaknesses, and their purging is not our purpose.  It is learning to live through them, not without them.”

Dullathaen sighed.  “Truest words, oh Se’r, but my weakness is that I cannot speak to my kin of this cause.  He is not ready yet.  Only I am, now.  But to hide is against my nature.  To not tell him turns me against myself.”

“Ah, Child of Eru, you have much to learn.  But first, I have something for you to do.  Something to do which will keep this thing off your mind.”

He stood up, and Dullathaen moved to put his arm under the shoulder of his master.  You always did that, whenever he stood.  No one knew why the powerful, fearless master, who could even stand strongly on his own two feet sat on a stool rather than a shadowed throne, and could not walk.

Hobbling, Dullathaen led “Se’r” to the door of the room.  He was made to stop at the doorway.  Dullathaen’s master gestured broadly with his hand.

“So much evil must be extinguished before Eru’s Hand may be seen.”  The shadowed master  looked out into the night-cowled world.  “Kill 100 Blackwolds.  Then, return to me.”

Dearest Brother,

To begin with, I am now in Bree.  For reasons I will not say, I am moving there for an indefinite period of time.   As of last, you knew of course that I would go to Bree, but at that time, it was a temporary arrangement.  That is no longer so. Perhaps, given the time and reason—and our meeting—I shall explain.  Do not worry, for father and mother are safe, and excepting your departure, well.  None-the-less, my letters to you shall continue.

Now, I shall return to this subject of runes, because you have.  Now, I didn’t wish to bring this up more than once, but since you did, I shall.  I will spell it out clearly so that you completely understand: when Sauron returns, then I shall take upon myself to train with runes.  Then, and only then shall I work with runes.

Now, I shall tell you of Bree.  There is quite a presence of men there, a presence which I have yet to become used to.  I brought my sword here, because in addition to the pretentious men who stride around the street, there is a fearsome brood called Blackwolds.  I have come into contact with a select few in the streets, and they seem nasty fellow.  I feel my sword-fighting skills may have to come into play at a point.  Still, even though I dislike the non-aggressive stance some of our brothers have taken, I will use discrimination.

I have begun to learn a unique art, that of prospecting.  One would be quite surprised how many large lumps of metal are simply lying around in the strangest places!  I guess you simply have to know what to look for.  In addition to that I have learned tailoring and weapon-smithing.  As one who has never preferred to be quite so close to flames, working with molten metal is not high on my list either.  In the end though, my situation can be wrapped up neatly with those three ever-sagacious words from father: get over it.

I have made the pre-emptive diplomatic decision to begin making allies among the fighters of the town.  I met one in particular, a middle-aged fellow (among Men, of course), by the name of Kelthor, who is willing to teach me better the way of the sword.  I wish, when the time comes, not to be wholly inept with the blade.  I shall not be a victim.

In conclusion, I’ve a short story for you.  It begins with a small feast in Bree that was happening when I came, one closed off to the commoners of course.  Many a guard was posted there, but I became stricken with a unique idea: to enter in among the nobles there, and quietly begin to gain their favour.  Now, before your berate me for my childish wisdom, I would have you know that I had some greater interests at heart.  To ignite trust with those who shall undoubtedly prove powerful allies in the future was what I had in mind.  It was not amiss.

I managed to sneak in with some simple techniques, and meet up with several human nobles.  Most appear corrupt and weak, and perhaps shall serve a certain purpose in the future.  They are open to manipulation, which may be leveraged in the future.

Never forget who I truly am.

Your Brother,

Dullathaen

Dear Brother,

As far as home and my departure are concerned there are no comparisons to Avorthal but enough of my departure. Yes, my mother is as skilled a minstrel as father is a champion so I hope his recovery will be swift. Senrathalion says he enjoyed working with you during your stay in Mirkwood but to keep practicing, as you will need it. At that time he says, Malelthalion was spending time in Thranduil’s court as a bodyguard of the king.

Burning your eyebrows off. Oh yes! I nearly forgot I laughed for days after that. Maybe you should try ice or perhaps lightening to get more… shocking results. Regardless I still think runes is the path for you.

We reached Duillond nearly a fortnight ago and we were immediately given tasks. Another goblin war leader and his horde had taken one of our old fortresses, Dol Rinquest. This one was named Glorfimbul and if it is possible I think he smelled worse then Pampraush. But I am getting ahead of myself. The ruler of Duillond, Penglir, gave us the tasks of purifying the ruins to fend off the goblins.

While we were there, we found a cairn of stones with an old sword sitting upon it. It appeared recently unearthed. After we purified the ruins we returned the sword to Penglir and found that it was the sword of one of his trainees who I now our diplomat in Gondamin. He told us that after he had lost it his trainee didn’t feel worthy enough to continue training and took a different path. Penglir reforged that sword and told us to give it to his trainee, as it was his sword by right. Next we helped the grocer and craftsmen re-supply their stores.

After we had helped Duillond as much as possible we were sent to Thrasi’s lodge. We traveled with much haste because there were reports of attacks by dwarfs upon Elves and Elven outposts. When we arrived we talked with Thrasi and the ranger Langlas and received several tasks to earn their trust. We also returned the sword to Celairant with his friends best wishes. First we helped Thrasi rehabilitate a cougar he had found and returned the cougar’s cub to him.

When we earned his trust we were sent to spy upon the once abandoned ruins of Kheledul on the river Lhun. We met two other dwarfs who had been spying on the fort and found shocking news. Yes, there had been dwarf attacks, but they were not Longbeards they were Dourhands. Yes, the foul dwarfs of Skorgrim’s breed have reared their ugly heads again and caused all sorts of mischief. Not only have they allied themselves with goblins they also have awoken great evil north of Gondamin with their tampering and appear to have taken the Prince. We must reach Gondamin and find if we can seek any aid.

As I finish my letter Carvador has been raising such a ruckus about dwarfs that he has stirred all of Celondim into a state of near war. Rumors have been falling as quickly as the first snow and nearly as deep.  I fear that if something is not done soon that there will be war between our races, a wrongful war that needs to be stopped. This dispatch will reach you after we arrive at Gondamin but I might be to busy sorting out a war to write to you.

Your Brother,

Aradathalion Woodstalker

P.S. Be careful in Bree I heard they play rough there. Also congratulations on being able to get out of the house after I left. I hope your winter is better then mine. I look forward to spring.