"Master Draugion, could you elaborate on the subject?".

Draugion looks to Ryland and nods. "Darklings are creatures such as orcs or trolls. The direlings were captured by a large group of them."

Toben nods in acknowledgment. "Ahh yes, we are familiar with their ilk. We've heard them referred to as Valaraukar, in general terms. They seem to be infesting areas at an alarming rate."

"What kind of time table are you on to gather these things, gentlemen?  Do you have time to look?  If not, I was directed here and will be glad to look for your friend while you continue on.  If this Proudfoot can do the carving you need, perhaps you should move on.  The choice is yours and I will help however I can either way."  Galad's posture is easy and he appears to be genuine in his willingness to help.  He does not feel pushy or attempting subterfuge in any way.

Toben thinks for a moment, weighing all the options on hand. "I agree, Proudfoot's carving will probably suffice if he can manage it, but searching for Harrow isn't just about the carving. Time is not on our side either, but I also can't leave him out there knowing he might be in danger."

He looks over to Windfang. "Very little time has passed since we got separated, so if we're lucky, we might still be able to spot him from the air. However, it makes sense that only one of us go with Windfang. If we happen to find Harrow, he might not have the capacity to bring him back if we overburden him."

Looking back to the rest of the group, he continues. "I would never ask someone to do something I wouldn't do, which is why I am volunteering myself to go with Windfang to search for Harrow. No more than an hour or two since we've no time to waste on our mission, but I have to at least try."

Galad nods.  "Then we will take these you have already rescued as far as Chargad.  There is an outpost there that can take them on to Isengard and then from there on into Gondor.  Find your friend and know that these will be safe."

Adonnen, his hand now wrapped in a bandage though he received no wound during the battle, approaches Ryland.  "Take this.  In this age, it is the best you will find."  He hands a warm metal vial to the bard.  It is stoppered, but there is a small smudge of blood on the outside.  The warrior says nothing else, but turns to join Marni and the rest in herding the survivors south.

"I won't be long. Whether the search is fruitful or not, I expect to rejoin you all shortly."

Toben walks over to Windfang. "Up for a quick run through the mist?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:15, Wed 31 Oct 2018.

The dragon nods and crouches down so Toben can mount.  With a powerful leap then a down stroke of his wings, he is in the air and away.  They soar over the mists that cover Mithlond, but it is too thick to see the ground.  Not even Vile'ek forms appear moving below.

"Toben.  There."  Off in the direction the dragon indicates, a pair of horn-like protrusions stick up put of the fog.  As Windfang circles around, it becomes evident they are the tops of a folded pair of enormous wings.  The wings do not move, but Toben can feel Windfang's body tense, ready to flee.

"Let's steer clear of that. The last thing we need is a diseased Balrog chasing us. Or worse." Toben tries to scan through the soupy fog. "If Harrow is hiding out, I doubt he would have gone too far from where we lost him. Can you circle around to where you picked us up?"

Windfang banks hard to the right. "I'm afraid that's where we are mate."

"I was hoping you weren't going to say that." He sighs reluctantly. "Alright, let's go in low and try to avoid that big thing. I might be able to stir up some of that fog to give us more visibility. Be ready to make haste if that thing catches on to us"

Toben digs in with his knees to hold tight as he begins to summon the winds to their location. The mist all around the begins to swirl and eventually disperse, pushing back farther the more he concentrates. He spreads his hands out in a fanning motion and the two begin to literally plow through the fog in search of Harrow. "This is a little distracting, so keep a keen eye out for the little guy."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:47, Wed 31 Oct 2018.

Vile'ek scamper in all directions like cockroaches when a torch is lit in the room.  The streets of Mithlond are eerily empty, a ghost town with no ghosts haunting the streets.  Only otherworldly monsters in the shadows and mists.

There are no Hobbits to be seen...or Direlings for that matter.

Toben grows more and more worried as he feels his power start to wane. "Nothing. There's nothing out there. Can you see anything, Windfang?"

All that stirs in the mist beyond his reach are foul creatures that could never be mistaken for a hobbit. The faint sound of beating wings brings a rapid halt to their search. "I think we're out of time..."

Windfang snarls in defeat. He banks around and heads out of the mist and back toward the group.

When the Toben and Windfang arrive, Ryland gives a hopeful look before realizing they aren't bringing back a third. He sighs heavily. "Well.. Now what?".

Toben slides off Windfang's back and walks over to Ryland. "I think we've done all we can here. We need to move on and do what we can to find the remaining components."

He sighs to himself. "A Nazgûl. Where would we even find one, if they even still exist?"

"There are no more Nazgul.  Eight were destroyed when the Ring of Power was destroyed at the end of the Third Age.  The last was trapped in Minus Morgul for a thousand years.  He was vanquished.  That vile that Adonnen gave you...it should serve your purposes.
 If not, then nothing will."

One of the former Vile'ek, a hobbit, steps forward and offers a small, crudely carved figure.  She smiles shyly.  "I'm sorry.  It's not my best work, but before the Vile'ek took me, my gaffer taught me to carve a bit."  She hands Ryland his knife back.  "I...borrowed that when I heard you talking about needing a Hobbit carved object.  My kin, they are not Hobbits any more.  That Harrow fellow, he was a Direling.  I doubt his carving would have been what you needed.  I..." she grows sad for a moment.  "I was taken a long time ago, before there were Direlings."

Ryland smiles warmly at the hobbit woman. "Bless you, miss. The important part is that you're here now, alive and well. You've done us both an honor and a great service with this carving. Its use is of the utmost of importance. You see, a friend of ours is very sick, and though we don't entirely understand all the items we need, part of what we were told we would need is this carving of hobbit origin. Thank you". He kneels down and places a hand gently on the hobbit's shoulder for a moment.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 20:42, Thu 08 Nov 2018.

"The vial?" Toben looks over to Adonnen when everything finally clicks. "Are you saying that you vanquished the last of the Nazgûl and that vial contains its blood?"

His posture relaxes visibly. "We can't thank you enough, not to mention a vastly impressive feat if what I've heard about the Ringwraiths is true. Is that how you injured your hand?"

"Galad vanquished the Nazgul."  Adonnen's voice is soft and he is most definitely holding something back.

Toben raises an eyebrow. "Still, I'm glad you're all on our side, and that means we only need one more thing."

Galad pats Toben's shoulder in a camaraderiel fashion.  "I am sorry you did not find the Hobbit, my friend.  We will take these that you have rescued south as I said before."  The paladin turns to those gathered.  "Ryland and Toben return to the land of dragons.  Not all are our enemies as Windfang here shows, but the need for heroes is great.  Nowe, I would ask that you come south given your connection to Cirdan of old.  The King of Gondor needs to know that the elfs still walk among us, however few."

Then he turns to Draugion.  "However, not all of you need go south.  If it is within your will, Draugion, perhaps you could travel back with these two and join them.  What say you?"  His last question takes in all those gathered save his own people who will stick with him for their own mission.

Nowe nods and steps to Galad's side.  The hobbits and men saved from the Vile'ek curse also step forward.  Only Windfang, Ryland, Toben, and Draugion remain.

Everyone looks to Draugion.

Draugion ponders, looking at Galad. "The old hobbit I met told me something. Even if I reveal myself to Gondor, I risk being used by others that would be jealous of an elf that is alive."

Draugion glances up and stands resolutely. "I will travel with Ryland and Toben to the land of the dragons. Maybe the world is not yet ready for the return of the elves."

"Those words are particularly wise, my old friend.  I shall keep my own presence a hidden thing until I know more.  The king shall know, but no others."  He turns to Galad.  "Is this acceptable to you?"

Galad nods.

Windfang looks at Draugion and nods.  "I can carry the three of you.  The elf will add little weight.  I won't be able t' do any of that fancy flying, though.  Just straight flying."

The three get up to his back and say their farewells.  Tears of joy and thankfulness stream down the faces of the humans and the hobbits alike as they wave.  Galad and the others are more stoic, but nod or toss a salute as they choose.

As if his words were prophetic, the flight home is straight and uneventful.  Draugion's first flight on a dragon, or anywhere for that matter, is a thrill nonetheless.  Even in the withered portion of the heath they encounter nothing but a lone War Dragon which veers away from them the moment it notices them.

"Hmm, that's odd."

As they approach the Dwarven town, they are greeted by a sight of the younger dragons in council.  It is mid-day.  Delunaur has but a day and a half left to her according to the estimates.

[This thread is now closed.  Please post in the main 8.0 chapter thread.]