The next morning Caranthiel made the Main Gate which lead the way out of his King's Halls and onto the Elf Path beyond. There stood a beautiful elf maiden dressed is a green cloak over a corslet of leather and carrying a bow in hand. Her bright green eyes took in the form of the scholar as he approached. As he made his way to the scout, she inclined her head.

"Mae govannen Hodoer! You are Caranthiel then? I have heard of you and even seen you from a distance. Well met! I am Nidhiel and like you I serve Thranduil our king. I am to lead a patrol along the Elf Path, from here to the Elf gate. I will see you to that place safely. Are you ready then?" she asked with a cocked brow.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:43, Tue 07 Nov 2017.

"I have already said my farewells to my books.  There's nothing more they can tell me about the future.  The future it out there, so lead on.", replied Caranthiel.

He then asks before he steps into line with the rest of the patrol, "Have you been into the Woodmen town before?  Have you ever met them?"  As he spoke, Caranthiel shifted his bow on his shoulder so that it was easier to reach.  He then leaned on the shaft of his spear like it was a walking stick.

In reply to Caranthiel (msg # 2):

The Gates of Thranduil's hall opens as if by their own volition as Caranthiel and party approach them.  As they step out into the light, Nidhiel nodded.

"Well said Caranthiel. You have earned the name I called you... Hodoer*. The future is out here and it will be what you make of it. Of the Woodmen's lands... yes! I have been among them. Yet it has been some twenty winters since my last visit. How about you? The King thinks you will be a good adviser to them. They are a good people who know the wood well. They are no friend to the Enemy and could very well be one of our better allies."

"Three since I last passed through their lands.  But much has changed since then.  Even so, they will have a better chance of remembering me than you.", replies Caranthiel as he stands at the open doorway waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light.

"I was on the way back...", he starts and then for a moment gets choked up on his words.  He then continues, "Back from the White Towers, you know, looking for any news from The Undying Lands.  And normally we stick the forest paths, but for some reason my curiosity got the better of me.  I thought I heard something from off the path.  Well I knew the lands beyond the forests were cleared and being farmed.  I presumed it was Humans.  And you know how troublesome Humans can sometimes be.  But there were people who I hadn't made the acquaintance of yet.  So I had to see them.  And what I saw amazed me!"  She then paused in his story for dramatic effect.  That and she wanted to know if Nidhiel had any inkling of what he was talking about.

Nidhiel listened intently as Catanthiel told his tale. Her eyes react as he/she spoke of the towers. Every elf knew what that implied... in this age many had felt the pull toward that very place and the growing darkness here in Middle Earth did not make for a good reason to stay. How long had the elves fought that darkness, and even in victory it had survived... mayhaps evolved but was always present. There was a certain futility of it all. Then the scholar spoke of humans where humans had not been in the recent past. Not the Hillmen of Gunabad then? Nor the woodmen, for they had been under the eaves of Mirkwood for some time. The Beorning had also dwelt in their lands for years... so who? The archer looked truly puzzled.

"What did you see then Caranthiel? Who are these humans that amazed you? If they are new then we must watch them... see if they will make friends or foes."

"Not Humans, at least not what I at first believed could be Humans.", Caranthiel goes on with his story.  "They were Little People.  Fair in hair and face like we, but so much shorter.  I would say roughly half the size of a Man.  Not Elf, not Man, not Dwarf.  They were something completely different.  I thought my eyes must be playing tricks on me.  I have so longed to see Elven children again.  But these were no children.  I saw them laboring in a field.  They worked with such skill planting their seeds that they couldn't be children.

"I didn't want to startle them so I just watched for a while in secret.  And they went on working.  They didn't seem to mind the drudgery.  In fact, I heard them sing from time to time.  They seemed to like it; the work and the singing.  On the face of it, I would say it was quite a boring encounter.  And yet it was so fascinating because I have never seen another being like them.

"So I went back onto my path through Chetwood to make to Bree.  You know, normally I avoid that town of Men.  They're too welcoming of Dwarves, you know, so long as those Dwarves have goods to trade or coin the spend.  I heard there were little people living underneath the Bree-Hill.  I presumed they were Dwarves.  But I needed information and the Bree Men are so open to all people traveling through their crossroads.  I had to ask about these Little People.  And they called them 'Halflings' and showed me some who lived beneath the Bree-Hill.  Quite a queer little folk.  I'm not sure why I had never heard of them before.  And I asked them that.  And you know what they told me?  That it's not surprising because they are such an unremarkable folk.  The humility!  It was astounding!  Why would such a race go unremarked if not for their great humility?  Then they told me that they prefer to call themselves 'Hobbits' if that helped any in my recollections.  It didn't.

"Oh, but you wanted to know if they would make friend or foe, didn't you, Nidhiel?  I'm not sure.  If I were to take the safe bet, I would say neither.  The optimist in me says friend.  But how valuable a friend I cannot say.  Although events of last year now tell me they show great promise.  That Bilbo Baggins who infiltrated our Woodland Halls was one of them.  It seems the Little Folk have a means of not being seen when they do not want to be.  It's like their skin is woven from the same fabric as our Elven Cloaks.  They could make good scouts, better even than the Rangers."

Nidhil listened, hanging upon every word for this topic indeed intrigued her. For the archer was one of many whom King Thranduil had ordered to pursue Thorin Oakenshield and his company, of which Bilbo Baggins was a member. there was a tug at the corner of her mouth as Caranthiel spoke about this Hobbit's ability to hide much like those who wear the fabled cloaks of Lorien of old.

"IT was not until after the Battle of Five Armies that I got a glimpse of him... Bilbo Baggins. I tracked him as did the Kings own son and both of us marveled how one... even one so small could have gone unseen with so many of our keen-eyed folk about. Aye, some were drunk with wine but still... " she waved her hand dismissively as she spoke. "... he was so small and unassuming I thought. Just like you said, humble summed him up quite well. Favored by Bard, Thorin, and Gandalf all but claimed he did little himself. Perchance he has returned to the west... to this Bree-hill and his home then. I have never been that way... I would like to see this place and them. One day mayhaps... one day."

She then turned to Caranthiel "You are a scholar, and one well respected by the king. I am told that these Hobbits once lived along the Great River. living in holes dug into the sandy banks of the Nether Vales. Could this be true?"

"Yes, I read about the River People.  They were there along the Great River and then they were gone.  Most writers presumed they had been wiped out by Orcs.  Some thought they became the Lake Men; that their small height was a result of a poor diet and then they became better fed on the lake so they grew taller.  It seems instead like they moved west into safer territory.", answers Caranthiel.  "Anyhow, the Hobbits at Bree-hill told me that they don't like to go far from home.  Most of them live in a place called The Shire.  It's an area of cleared land between the White Towers to the West and Chetwood to the East.  The area is dotted with farming villages.  It is very uninteresting.  I can see why no one bothered to write about it, or even go there.  Simple farmers are not worth the trouble of contacting.  You take your life into your hands for very little gain.  I am certain this Bilbo Baggins has gone back The Shire.  It's already out-of-character enough for his people to travel so far from home.  Sooner or later, nature has to take over.  But if one can take that large step into a larger world, it is my hopes that more will.  They have got to see that there is more in this world that threatens them than packs of wolves.  It'll take work, but they can become an ally."

His eyes having adjusted to the gloomy light filtering down through the forest canopy, he steps outside.  He takes in a deep breath of the forest air.  It is nice and clean without the smoke of torches.  Caranthiel really prefers to be outside.  It feels natural to her.  Elves were born to walk the forest paths, not stay underground in a warren of tunnels.  But this isn't Rivendell.  Dangerous creatures are close at hand.

The archer was content to take the lead and bring Caranthiel to the Woodmen. They took the time to test the straps of their packs and to adjust their weapons for no horse could be ridden through the gloom that was Mirkwood. As the magical doors slid apart, presumably at Thranduil's will and blessing, the few rays of the sun's light met them. The stout gate stood before them and just beyond it the stone bridge which led to the track that was named The Elf Path... and their destination... The Forest Gate.

Maybe it was because the sunlight had fought its way through the great boughs of the the mighty oaks and beech trees that made up most of Northern Mirkwood, that it's rays dappled the ankle high grass and even the darkened path ahead, that they somehow felt a sense of hope. They also felt a sense of determination to see this mission accomplished as they carried news that must get through!

The Elf Path was but a track really, that clove it's way through the northern part of Mirkwood in Wilderland. Constructed by the Mirkwood Elves, it ran from the Elvenking's Halls in eastern Mirkwood to the Forest Gate upon the western eaves.  It was not clear to most why the elves took the trouble to make this rarely used path all the way across Mirkwood, but Caranthiel knew. For when the foul Necromancer, later found to be Sauron himself, took over the grim fortress of Dol Guldur, the Old Forest Road became so fraught with danger that none could use it. The elves still required a way to move about and patrol their lands. They withdrew their own borders northward and long since made another way to cross Mirkwood... thus the Elf Path was born!

Alas, the party came upon their first obstacle and task on their third day of travel. Where the path crossed the Enchanted River, there was a small boat moored to enable the three to cross the river safely. Caranthiel knew that anyone who fell in the waters would be over come with a dire enchantment... a deep and prolonged sleep for which no one could awaken them. Only time and the will of the individual could break the spell.