Middle-earth time is:
Daytime on Sterday, Day 26 of September.
Real time is: 11:31:54 MST on Fri Jun 25 1999.

Elven Dreams
This is the world of Elven Dreams. Other Elves appear to you here as their true selves, if you have the wisdom and heart to see in this place. Dreams and thoughts, yours and theirs, come to life here.

Before you stands a tall, brilliant figure standing before you. Surrounding him is a large, flowing cloak, the color of the deepest forest green, that billows around him. His limbs and torso appear to be made of the purest light itself, and his features, though blurred slightly, are unmistakably those of Terridan. His chest is covered by a white tunic, and his arms end in a pair of thick sheepskin gloves. True to his nature though, he is also armored, a breastplate and shoulderguards of the purest mithril rest on his form. His upper legs hold a mithril guard over each one, while a shin guard of mithril covers each lower leg. His feet are covered by a pair of dark leather boots. From his face, two bright blue eyes shine out.

The mists linger and cling to the landscape as always, though as they drift it is sometimes possible to catch a glimpse of another elf's dream. The only thing remaining unchanged, if it is sought, is the yawning rift in the earth, into which no light penetrates. Beyond it is a plain of tall green and golden grasses, rippling with some unfelt wind.

Like a fish meandering through murky waters, a silver glow glides through the mist, lighting the clouds from inside as it passes. As it approaches the rift, the mist becomes thinner around it. Near the chasm the mist is torn by the winds and its patches slowly fall down and vanish in the darkness. As the glow approaches the chasm, the brown desolated ground on its side comes to life with fresh grass springing from the dirt. But neithe rthe light nor the lively scenery it carries ahead can reach the other side of the chasm.

Terridan walks through the mists slowly, yet with a determination. He makes his way towards the rift, his eys softening as he gazes upon it for a moment, then turns his gaze towards the opposite side. He does not seem to notice the glow, or if he does he makes no reaction.

The wandering glow glitters through the breaks in the mist and condenses into the shape of a tall elven maid, cloaked from head to toe but brimmed with radiance.

As the lights arrive and part the mists, there is a different waving of the grasses opposite the chasm as someone makes their way through them. It is a tall maiden, carrying herself proudly, though her expression is sad and weary. Long hair of dim silver wreathes her frame, cloaked in a pale blue gown and a sturdy white surcoat. The only light that comes from the maid is from a single stone fixed in the middle of her forehead.

Terridan looks over towards the figure across the chasm, and a deep breath is taken, as if in relief. He calls out across the chasm towards her, his voice carrying over the distance to her ears, "Talia... cousin... it is Terridan... I have come again."

The radiant elf tosses back her hood, revealing long glittering hair and a fair face. Tuonoorwen stands on the edge of the rift, looking across. Her light pushes the mist away, clearing a space for a lively flowering meadow, but the abyss before her remains dark as ever.

Talia, on the other side of the rift, catches her breath at the familiar and welcome sound of Terridan's voice. She makes no reply as of yet,but turns her eyes towards the light that is Tuonoorwen with a hint of recognition in her dull eyes. She exhales slowly before speaking, "And now?"

[+COM] You are now set comhaven.

Tuonoorwen raises her voice to send the words over the dark gap which separates her from Talia, "You have come far on your quest. No longer do you let your memories control you. You now have power...", she suddenly whirls in place, and peers into the dense wall of mist behind her.

Terridan looks over towards Tuonoorwen slowly, as if noticing her the first time. Nodding once to her, he looks out to where she gazes, narrowing his eyes as if trying to peirce the mist.

Talia's lips move slowly as if to test the feel of the last of Tuonoorwen's words, "Power...." With the following silence, however, she seems to sense the alarm in the air and takes a step back, drawing herself up and listening.

The misty wall ripples and waves, and as the gaps in it open and close, two large glowing eyes seem to be coming from the vastness of the dreamscape. Their light is yellow, and their only surrounding is total darkness. Tuonoorwen leans from side to side, trying to sneak a better look at the approaching shape.

Talia trembles once where she stands, though from the look on her face, it appears that it may be more from excitement than fear. Her eyes strain to see beyond the yellow glow, which is reflected in the stone on her brow.

Gillhach appears among the dreams, condensing from a barely perceptible presence into her real self.

Gillhach has arrived.

Terridan looks across the mists again, his eyes narrowing slightly. He takes a slight step forward as the eyes appear, and his face turns serious. Sending thoughts to Talia for comfort and strength, he faces whatever comes.

Tuonoorwen stands at the side of the yawning dark rift, with Talia on the other side, but Tuonoorwen does not look there. Her eyes are searching the mist, where among swirling clouds floats a dark shape with only one visible detail: two glowing yellow eyes.

Tuonoorwen glances over her shoulder at Talia, then on the far edge of the rift, seeminly gauging the distance. The low rumble coming from the mist makes her turm back again, as she struggles to make out the details.

Talia's fists are clenched at her sides and her chin is high. She takes a step forward,then another, though mindful of the rift. "And so it begins," she mumbles, though under her breath.

Surprisingly aware of Talia's remark despite the distance which separates them, Tuonoorwen turns now to face the elf on the other side, turning her back to the approaching dark shape. "Are you ready?", the worry is evident in her voice.

Terridan turns over to look at Tuonoorwen, then Talia, then back to the approaching glow, "Ready for what, mellyn?"

The change in Talia is subtle, but it is there nonetheless. She is tall and her skin pale, untouched, though her cheeks are reddened. Flushed with fear or anger, or both. Looking once to the halo of light she knows as Tuonoorwen, her eyes quickly dart away again to the darkness that hides the beast with the yellow eyes. She does not speak to Tuonoorwen, but instead to the cloud behind her, her voice quaking, "Come out, you coward! I have been waiting."

Swirling about a point, gathering; mists coalesce, as if forming an insubstantial figure. Tending towards solidity now, it's skin still translucent, so the figure seems to look about ittself with invisible eyes. Then, gradually, clarified in the minds eye: A young girl, bearing neither arms nor armour enters into the dreamscape. Blinking once, the maid proceeds to scrutinize the scene.

The wind floats Tuonoorwen's cloak, and as it raises over her shoulders, her growing light pushes it up and away. In its place. covering the body of the elf, shines with hot fire a suit of armor. The dark cloud approaches, and, just in time, a flaming sword appears in Tuonoorwen's hand. With a hiss, the dark shape pulls back and raises above the rift. Yellow menacing eyes glow from above. Tuonoorwen glances at the other side, "This is no dream, Talia! Fight, or perish!". The dark shape unfolds its wings, and a long tail hits from side to side, tossing the last clouds of the mist.

Terridan looks up towards the figure, taking in a deep breath as he gazes on it, "By Elbreth..." his voice is but a whisper... and he steps no further back, rather he begins to approach slowly, "Cousin! If you need my aid, I will help you best I can!"

Talia feels the shadow come over her and recoils, though she cannot draw her eyes away from the monster's. As the light is chased away, she stands with paralyzed awe in the encompassing darkness. At the last moment, she seems to shake herself free of the hypnotic glow of the eyes and jumps away, missing the swinging tail just barely. She rolls across her darkened plains, but when she rises, she holds a great warshield, nearly as tall as herself.

Smoke pours from Mt. Doom as the Dark One's evil sorcery lags the game.

The smoke clears as good triumphs and the database saves.

Looking to the thing, the winged terror high aloft, about which the dark mists swirl. And then to the elf-maid, still to be seen, glimmering in the mists. Seemingly carefree, seemingly defenceless; she walks forth, stopping aside Tuonoorwen surveys the scene silently.

Golden sparks scatter in the air as Tuonoorwen raises her flaming sword, but the dragon-shaped darkness raises higher, outside of her reach. The long black tail swings her way in a half-hearted stroke, but recoils when the sword is lowered. The focus of the malice, the almost palpable evil will, is on the other side, where Talia is facing it alone.

Her posture guarded, the weapon ready, Tuonoorwen makes few measured steps, trying to be in front of the girl, but also getting closer to the edge of the chasm. Her attention evidently is distracted from the appartition as she again gauges the breadth of the rift.

Terridan pulls his own sword, fire a brilliant white, shining with a light to match his own. He watches the form with narrowed eyes, tracking it through the air. He two swings towards the appriation, but it pulls away before he can close.

Talia waits beyond the rift, crouched behind her shield, though her eyes are always on the darkness. She seems still to hold no weapon, though the fear has gone from her face.

Tuonoorwen lowers her sword and sets its point on the ground, holding the hilt with both hands. Her head is lowered, and her eyes seem to be almost closed. Her bright halo fades somewhat, but just across from her on the other side, on a small patch the burned yellow grass comes alive and raises in vibrant green. Among the tall grass small golden flowers glitter like hot cinders.

Terridan holds his own sword in front of him, his own glow brightening. His eyes remain open as he follows the form as it moves, waiting for it to move closer to him. His breath remains even.

Stepping away from Tuonoorwen, as much in disdain for the woman's intent to defend her, as to look on the battle being pitched across the valley. With arms folded at her breast, and naery an expression to be seen on her youthful visage, Gillhach observes, as if spectating some contest.

Talia is quiet, crouched behind her silver shield, gauging the movements and speed and shape of her opposition, as if she is willing to let it make the first attack. In an instant, however, she is standing, swinging her shield onto her back and raising a golden longbow. An arrow of light and flame looses from the string and Talia readies another, though she wears no quiver.

The black menace hisses again as the flaming arrow lights the dark wing. In its hatred it dives for the flowering patch next to Talia and belches out a jet of fire and smoke, but the first blow only suceeds in scorching the grass around, the small oasis of green and gold stands. Raising hier, the dragon turns its menace on the other side. Its glowing eyes spot the child's shape, and its tongue flicks between the monstrous fangs as it regards Talia's sister with a ravenous hunger.

Terridan follows the dragon's gaze, then his features set firmly into defiance, "NO!" he quickly steps in front of Gillhach, sword pointing towards the beast, the hilt held in both of his hands, "You must get past me first."

As the dragon turns, it's shadow lifts off of Talia. Her surcoat shines brilliant white and a blazon of a rising sun glitters on her chest. She looses another arrow at the dragon, sensing that something else has drawn its attention.

Talia's voice is clear and strong as she shouts after the loosing of her bolt, " Coward. It is me you came for."

Talia's arrow skips off the hard scales of the dragon's spine, though it leaves a thin trail of blood before it disappears into the dark.

The dragon lets out a menacing roar, a cry of ancient hatred for all things of light, and dives across the rift, winging its way toward the child.

Terridan steeles himself in a stance, standing before the child with all the strength he can. Holding his sword poised before him, he is as motionless as stone, though his light brightens to almost blinding levels. As the beast nears him and the child, his sword flashes out, swinging for the head of the dragon, "Begone!"

Talia fires two more arrows in quick succession, unsure if the creature is fleeing, or has found another target. At the sound of Terridan's voice, she cringes somewhat.

Drawing her sword up again, Tuonoorwen calls to Talia, "It still wants you, but what better way to hurt you?" The girl in her insistence to evade protection have wandered far enough, so the dragon creature only has to fight Terridan, at least for now.

Talia runs forward, aching to see what is happening, and in all her haste, nearly forgets about the chasm. Skidding to a halt on one knee, she grips the golden longbow tight, the mesh of light and dark too tight to risk a shot.

Laughing then, aloud and vibrantly. Eyes shuttered, once more the child fades into translucency, her form no more than a shadow, her voice a whisper on the wind. "No cousin, it wants me. Yes... then it shall have me... but perhaps I should show myself in truth, ere the end. This is less than a fair fight.."

Growing tall then, as if she were a grown woman; clarified at the last, Gillhach steps forth into the mists, as much herself in the waking world as ever. An eldritch fire burns in her eyes, and a white light absolves her form; she draws forth a blade from the nothingness at her waist, the steel glittering cold like ice. Raising it in challenge to the beast.

The dragon recoils as the icy light pierces its eyes. It whirls in the air, aiming for Gillhach, then for Terridan, then for Tuonoorwen who now stands under its shadow with her sword raises, its fire ripping the darkness of the black wings. Suddenly, it turns away, and speeds into the mist, away from the battle.

Tuonoorwen lowers her sword as she looks after it, "He only wanted you as much as it is a way to hurt your sister...", she drops to Gillhach.

Talia pulls her shield before her again, seeming more afraid of the silence and assumed peace than in the presence of the dragon.

Terridan looks through the mists, not lowering his sword for a moment, staying alert for any signs of return.

As the winged creature vanishes in the distance, the feeling of menace it brought does not go away. The mist flows along the ground, and the plains on both sides of hte rift are still. The four elves stand out like bright flames in this dull gray landscape. The only other movement comes from the distance, where a dark shadow stretches over what seem to be steeply raising hills. As the distance between it and the elves becomes smaller, it takes a shape of a hand, dark hand with four fingers stretched in the air, poised to grab something, pluk its target from the mist.

Talia turns slowly to face the coming form. She holds her shield close, but her eyes are bright with defiance. At her belt of braided gold, there now hangs a silver sword, like a shard of starlight hanging from her waist.

Tuonoorwen draws her cloak over her shoulders, hiding her light. Only her hair glow silver, but she does not cover them yet. She turns to the other side of the rift and calls in a voice allowing no argument, "Jump!" She pulls the cloak over her head, and becomes one with the mist, "Jump, NOW!"

Talia glances at the shape of the hand,and then behind her at the disappearing form of Tuonoorwen. With only a moment's hesitation, she drops her shield, takes a few steps, then jumps.....

Terridan looks over towards Talia slowly, watching her take the jump, his eyes wide as he watches her fly out over the rift, and a soft prayer is on his lips.

The hand passes over the rift and swipes along the barren plains at the distance. Mists shrowd the dreamscape again.