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Frodo and Sam failed in their quest to destroy the one ring. It is lost in Mordor, and the two Hobbits had no choice but to turn back. The fate of Middle Earth once more is undecided.

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One Ring to rule them all..
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» Unexpected Foes, Summer TA 3018, Arnor South of the Shire
Aglanor
Past Thread Posted: Feb 13 2015, 23:13
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The wild. Despite their reputation even the Rangers usually did not venture this far from civilization. There was little reason why they should, most times. It was the roads and settlements that needed keeping save, and while those unsavoury individuals which created the need for such attention liked to set their camps in the woods and such places offering good hiding places they never strayed far from them. Once in a while, though, someone had to scout around the more remote areas as well, just in case.

Aglanor did not mind that the task had fallen on him this time. While he strongly preferred the comforts of home to a bed under a tree and good food to his own meager travel rations, he appreciated the overall fairly peaceful scouting to the more dangerous task of routing out bandits. Summer was young, the weather fine and bright, and travel easy. If you had to be out, this was probably as pleasant as it got.

Aglanor's appreciation of his situation ended abruptly, though, when he came across the carcass of a stag. That in itself was not too alarming. There were wolves in this area, and they needed prey to survive. This one, however, had not been hunted for food. This stag way torn up, badly, but only a small part of the meat had been eaten. The rest was now rotting away.

Aglanor started following the impossible to miss trail of the wolves. Something was wrong here, and he needed to find out what before he reported back. Two hour passes without much incident. The trail became fresher, until he rounded a boulder and had to realize that the wolves must have rested nearby for at least several hours, as he suddenly became face to face with two of them.

Their mad eyes and foaming muzzles said everything. Rabid they were, probably all of them. Even as he reached for his sword, Aglanor knew that if he managed to defend himself, he would be lucky. Because from the sides, he could now here the rest of the pack approach.
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Radagast The Brown
 Posted: Feb 22 2015, 01:01
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Radagast had been trekking for what he guessed a few weeks now. The wonderful weather made travelling from Mirkwood and across the Misty Mountains to the West Lands rather enjoyable; and this was of benefit to him as he was never fond of straying too far from the forest- the last thing he needed was a poor journey.

In fact, if he had his way, he wouldn't be on his way to the West. It was only for aviary messengers bringing news of the animals in the Arnor area being disturbed by a pack of wild hunters dominating the area that he sought to make way for the source of these reports. The Wizard was planning to attempt to reason with the beasts.

Now he was walking across fields and over hills and was drawing near to where the aggressors were last seen, aided with directions from fleeing animals native to the hills. Howls and growls made little use for directions as Radagast approached the hill from which behind it the noises came.

He stood at the top of the hill looking down at the scene before him, gathering himself and his energies for magic- should he need it.

He hoped not.

This post has been edited by Radagast The Brown: Jul 9 2015, 18:47
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Aglanor
 Posted: Mar 15 2015, 21:21
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The moment he realized that the animals were sick, Aglanor knew that normal strategies to avoid confrontation would not work. Nonetheless, he started to move, slowly, very slowly. Don't run or they'll immediately see you as prey and attack. Don't threaten. Just carefully take one step, then another...

So far it worked, even though his movement brought Aglanor closer to one side of the loose circle the wolves were forming, it also brough him closer to a rock formation where the forces of weather had long ago broken off one side of a hill. The once jagged endges had since been washed smooth by the elements as well, but there was enough of the original vertical rock face left to provide some element of shelter. Fighting with your back to a wall was better than figthing with your back to some wolves - and that it would come to fighting there was less and less doubt.

The pack was following Aglanor's move, closing, ever closing. Reaching the rock face was a relief, but even so the Ranger knew all too well the odds of walking away from this encounter. Depending on how mad the beasts were, it might be possible to beat them all off. However, doing it unscathed firmly belonged in the realm of miracles, and in this case one bite would be deadly enough.

Had there been anything to do to prepare for the inevitable, Aglanor would have done it. But there was no one around to hear last words, carry messages or even sympathise with his regrets. With his full attention on the pack, he completely failed to notice the lone figure some short distance away.

So with nothing to worry about than the immediate moment, he let the fear take hold, sharpen his senses and quicken his reflexes. If he was going to die out here, then the least he could do was give a bit of payback, with a slight chance of preventing the disease from spreading any further. It wasn't exactly the kind of thing the minstrels would sing about, but it was something.

A moment later, the leader leaped forward and the fight began. One could say that it went quite well for those first few moments. Two wolves died from quick strokes from the sword, and a third was hampered in its approach by the carcasses - luckily, because a fourth was approaching from the side, and the delay gave Aglanor just enough time to fight off that opponent. This time, however, the kill was not quite as clean, and the animal stumbled from a deep wound and momentarily recoiled. It would have kept coming, though, if its pack mates had not fallen on it in turn.

Horrified, Aglanor watched the beast getting torn apart. At the same time, a sliver of hope made it into his mind. If the madness made the the wolves turn on their own wounded, then it might just be possible to keep them pre-occupied with each other.
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Radagast The Brown
 Posted: Jul 9 2015, 22:26
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"Peace, I say, peace!!", came the bellowing command of a brown-robed man who walked the ground, slowly clearing about 15 feet of distance between them before stopping a few metres away. He studied the scene, seeing the man who was backed up against the rock. He didn't take much notice as his attention was drawn to the wolves. The beasts, interrupted from their treacherous assault, jolted their bodies around to face the man, their eyes darting around their heads in an attempt to analyse what he was. It wasn't hard to decide- prey. Like all others.

They growled deeply, four of them, and began edging their way towards him, mouths frothing as white, bubbly saliva dripped to the ground. They started snagging the air ahead of them as they let out growls and shouts, still walking towards the unmoved man. Radagast, seeing they were rabid, was able to tell they were far descended into madness as their tongue was incomprehensible even for him. It wasn't to say that on some level it was understandable, because it wasn't.

Closer and closer they edged, slowly, although making no attempt to stop. Radagast made no attempt to turn and move, instead he stood and tightened the grip on his staff. He'd dealt with rabid beasts before and those this far progressed with the disease couldn't be helped, even with the strongest herbs. At this point, he knew reasoning was out of the question. That left him one choice- to defend himself. How he would do that without hurting them, though, that was a fair question as harming nature was not his way, nor had it ever been.

Now, the pack's attention was definitely taken off the ranger, but was on another target, Radagast. They readied themselves to begin the fight and the Wizard done the same. Radagast, slowly, wrapped his index finger around one of the twisted branches of his staff as a small vine-like plant grew up silently from under the belly of the first wolf who began to pounce. Radagast held his staff up to block the attack in case he was too late. Fortunately, he wasn't. The attacker was pulled back to the ground by the plant that spread around its hind-left paw and up its leg. As it hit the ground rather forcefully, it let out a howl of anger which signalled the rest of the pack to join in the fray...
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