Lusseriel was sitting on top of the wall of Ost Galadh.
She was so quiet in a corner, and so out of the way, that she wasn't sure if the two other elves up there noticed her yet. Tiredly, she reached into her backpack and pulled out her notebook, and writing supply.
Her hand was less steady than her usual, but she didn’t care. The date was but a scribble barely readable in a corner of the page:
“Today started… Somewhat well. I was back at the inn, and, all seemed more or less peaceful. A lot more peaceful at any rate than the situation I just left behind.
I mean, I had been looking for news of someone I bear a message for, in and around the inn, there’s a surprising number of elves that come and go, surely someone had news of another a healer, right?
But alas, instead of finding good news and information, I found someone in need of a healer. The elf, I still don’t know his name, had met from close up the poison of a spider and I can only marvel at the fact he not only escaped with his life, but managed to reach a place where he could get help.
Anyway, he wasn’t going to go much farther on his own, and as I was the only one around with any idea of what to do, which is a frightening thought to begin with, I decided to take him with all haste to the nearest camp where he could be treated by healers actually equipped to deal with spider poison.
Hopefully he’ll make it.
Anyway, now I was back. I was playing music when Candath found me in the inn.
The beautiful good gloomy Mirkwood day started to go downhill from there.
It was barely even dawn…
I mean, when you’re greeted by the words “I am glad to see you once more. I was starting to fear this dark forest had claimed another…” you can feel the news isn’t quite as good as desired.
Also I learnt that before disappearing, leaving a message at least would be in the best interest of everyone.
Candath told me then that Tindollion had disappeared in the Drownholt. He found her sword, and following a trail, saw her being carried by an uruk to the gate of Dol Guldur.
Of course, as I told him, if there’s anything I can do to help, I will. And I need to stock up on healing supplies, while I still think about it.
We were joined there by Dealia. She’s interesting and very cheerful, it’s very refreshing in this place. And also by Ilthirian.
Dealia came to us saying that the ghosts were back. She was cheered by the prospect of breakfast however so that was a potential beginning of problems averted.”
The words were barely legible there as Lusseriel just glared at her page:
“There right here is one part of what I hate about healers and being one. You can just see and anticipate how many ways things can turn into a disaster and how many ways anything can become a tragedy you can’t heal others or yourself from. And yes, dealing with ghosts or someone afraid in a place like Mirkwood can have a large enough variety of results, some less desirable than others.”
She growled in anger and frustration, neatly surprising the two other elves nearby, when her pen just went through the paper in her annoyance.
She took a deep breath and started again.
“Anyway, no disaster happened there, and I discovered that Dealia is far, far braver than I am for she actually dared to eat the food from the inn. I’ll be honest; I have absolutely no problem living on Lembas alone in the foreseeable future. The forest is desolate enough and even the inn is so gloomy… Everything around the Mirkwood looks like it’s either being poisoned or trying to poison you. Been there, done that, got the memories to go with it, lembas is going to stay my food of choice until we leave the forest or I lose that choice somehow.
Though, on a lighter note, speaking of food, when Candath passed on the breakfast offer saying that “I’m not sure exactly what passes for food in this place”, I may have made the mistake to answer “grilled giant spider”. That may have caused poor Dealia some concern. Oups?
Though, it’s a fair point, other than the fact it’s practically suicide to try and hunt them, and if you miss your chance, they’ll use YOU as dinner, would those spiders even be edible?
Not sure if anyone ever tried but…
We went to talk to Issuriel. We have a very real and pressing interest in sharing information about Dol Guldur and how to approach it without being killed, so it’s also in our best interest to cooperate and help each other out.
And apparently, according to Issuriel, Dealia isn’t the only one who was alarmed by the ghosts.
Though, quite frankly so long those ghosts aren’t moving from their area and not attacking everything that passes near them, I really don’t see a reason to be alarmed…
Anyway, Issuriel asked us to go and reassure those poor spooked elves of hers.
Soon someone will ask us to go hold their hands, prepare their bottles and check they don’t forget their naptime, I swear. What are they doing here in this land if they’re spooked that easily?!!
But Candath had a genius idea. One among our number was a very cheerful fellow and quite able to cheer up people in turn so… And thankfully it worked. Somewhat. Dealia cheered them enough or at least tried enough to report to Issuriel that yes, we tried, elves reassured.
Only from where one of them was standing we could see the tree tops from some of the forest below us. And I saw, or thought I saw at least, spider webs. That would surely have been a nest.
A burst of wind passed, and the webs seemed to disappear. Did I mistake them for something else? We know there’s spiders around obviously but…
Anyway, we went back to Issuriel, and the company was ready to leave, through the scuttledells, a spider nest. I hate spiders. Giant spiders that is.
We were attacked by spiders in a way that really made me wish for my old company. It’s rare that I wish for it, but if there’s something we lot knew how to do, it was fight, and we killed a number of those giant spiders at the time.
We had our losses of course, but let’s be real, it’s always more reassuring to face a giant spider nest with a company of 20something well armed feanorians, rather than in the company of less than a dozen people with less armor than would be advisable and… Probably less weaponry than we could wish for.
Well things went relatively well… By that I mean there was no losses until we fell into an obvious trap and that thrice be cursed orc escaped us. Issuriel managed to free herself and she ran after it.
By the time the rest of us managed to free ourselves from the web and run after them both… we found Issuriel and that orc on the floor, unconscious and poisoned.
I suspect it was the queen of the nest. The spider was far bigger than the others and we were definitively barely enough to kill it as it were.
But we managed and we somehow managed also to get to Ost Galadh.
Why did we even bother taking Mazog with us, instead of leaving it there and calling it dead, I don’t know.
Candath went to see if there was a healer that could help, since I couldn’t do anything, and found that, no, in fact, there’s no one.
Aireliniel joined us there.
Issuriel told us, in a barely audible voice that we needed a rare flower, growing in the scuttledells, and a poison pouch, in order to make an antidote.
Of course, we went. I managed to lead us to the place she had described that could have that flower, and by some miracle I couldn’t explain, yes, a flower was there, along with far too many undead for my peace of mind, but the flower at least was there.
Candath then led us deeper to a spider nest, and as we killed one of the spiders, Candath started to cut it open, before he asked me if I happened to know which part was the venom sac.
If I had answered no, would we have ridden back with the whole body of the spider, I wonder.
But I knew and I said so. And so that’s how I picked up one of my knives and started to cut through the inside of a dead spider.
I showed Candath the part we needed, just in case, for future reference, and cut it lose from the body.
That’s how I sacrificed a pouch from my bag. I wasn’t going to ride back with a poison sac in hands, so… So it went, freshly cut from the spider’s body, covered in fluids I preferred not to identify, straight into my bag. I’m not sure whether to try and clean that or to burn the bag altogether yet but…
Candath collected one too, just in case, and I’m not sure what he did of it during the ride back or after or if he still has it, but…
We came back and we went to try and find Barvessain for her to brew the Laidhris antidote. But she warned us, we had two poisoned beings in our care and only one antidote.
We all agreed to give the antidote to Issuriel. I mean, who in their right mind would give it to the orc in our place?
Only… Issuriel refused to take it.
Candath was reacting with frustration at the situation, but short of killing the orc ourselves now…
Alas I can’t force healing on the unwilling. It’s in my oaths as a healer.
To which Candath reacted by leaving the room saying : “I suppose you are right, but I will refuse to stand by as you administer aid to this filth!”
I’ll admit I wished I could do the same myself. But it’s not as if we had a choice anyway. Unless someone else was willing to force the antidote on Issuriel… Well…
The orc got it. I’m sure that parasite will react well to it and survive the poison too.
Aireliniel didn’t react well to that either: “Why must elven lives be sacrificed so that an evil Orc can live?”
Good question. Probably because the dwarves are decided to see us all killed for their mad plan and they don’t care about their victim count? Or because we so want to accomplish our respective mission that we let the dwarves' choice decide for us on those matters?
Candath seemed to have given up then. He seemed… Depressed, defeated. And though I would have many things to say in answer to his words, there’s only one thing he said that I’ll record here : “perhaps Broin was right”.
Broin would be right? Since when? It’s his fault to start with if we’re in this situation. Without his foolishness and stubbornness, and extreme naivety to believe the words of an orc regarding its own worth, that orc would be long dead already!
And of course as Candath kept speaking about our losses, it seemed to anger Tirnelion. I have no idea when he arrived, I’ll admit.
But obviously Tirnelion’s anger didn’t help matters at all.
When Candath finally asked him what he would have us do, Tirnelion answered something I’m not going to forget anytime soon: “You? I know not. What do use of bunch of weeping Elves is to me...”
The nerves of that…
Good thing I learnt far better than to start a fight with another elf or he would have had one on his hands.
He wasn’t the one responsible for choosing who would die and who would live between an elf of our company, one of our own allies, and that filth of an orc. Valar be damned, he wasn’t the one either who administered the antidote knowing very well it’ll condemn our ally! He’s not the one who failed to protect or heal an ally of us. What right did he have to judge any of us?!
He answered me that: “I did not fail. Neither did you, at least for now - for you have not tried to brave the fate yet”
No, I hadn’t tried to run across the forest of Mirkwood like a headless chicken, running after a RARE plant. I know the odds: the odds of success and the odds of dying in the process and the odds of failing that errant.
A rare plant is called rare for a good reason.
And to add insult to injury, that infuriating elf had the gall to say: “I vow to scour all reaches of Mirkwood till I find another of those flowers”
A vow. Did people learn nothing about uttering vows and oaths and the like on the heat of the moment and without thinking?
I wish him luck on that errant, if he stays true to his word, he may be in the forest for quite some times still.
Not even counting that his vow was entirely useless : If it takes more than a day at the very most, but more probably just more than a few hours judging by her state of health, Issuriel will be dead anyway, with or without the flower.
But then I guess there was nothing binding in his vow, so he can just decide not to follow it.
Evidently, my answer, or Candath’s perhaps, didn’t please him, and he muttered something I didn’t quite catch, and left toward the stables.
And that’s about when we realized that Dealia was gone. When, did she leave, I don’t know, but…
Ilthirian was luckier than us in our endeavor to find traces of Dealia and found out that the guards saw her leave. Apparently she went to find Gathburz by herself.
Were we too slow for her? Was it too much to ask for a few minutes of respite before having to run again frantically after someone?
Funnily enough, I’m starting to think it’s the Curse coming back to life to haunt us. Alas, I’ve been there, and done that, I’ve got the scars and I’m not interested in a second serving of it. More seriously, which of us is cursed? Which of us has the ill luck? Or is it that all our ill luck is coming together into a worst luck for everyone?
And since when are hobbits that reckless anyway? Can’t we have a normal non reckless hobbit with us, PLEASE?! Or at least someone who will not rush off alone to face Mirkwood’s wild that close to Dol Guldur?
But at least this time, luck, well good luck that is, was with us and we found Dealia fast enough. Along with scouts who gave up some report of the area.
And so we went back to Ost Galadh. Only to discover that Broin left…
Well, I don’t care what happens to him, I’m not running after him. Good luck to him and all that. I hope he’ll get a taste of his own medicine while he’s out there.
Candath said that the day has been long enough, and yes, it was indeed. Between yesterday and today I’ve had my fill of emergency, bad news and running around frantically. So we decided to stop there. Ilthirian went back to the haunted inn with words for the rest of our companions, shall they seek us there.
Dealia and Candath went somewhere in the camp, as for myself I found a place on top of the walls. I needed to think and I like heights.
Candath told me at one point today that “with the recent excursions of the orcs from Dol Guldur, and from what I hear of the spiders of the scuttledells, there is no shortage of need for healers”.
He’s not wrong, there’s a real need for healers, but I can’t be it, as proven once again.
What kind of healer, what kind of elf, am I that I can’t even heal an ally, and instead heal an orc and leaves my ally to live or die by the miracle of luck?!”
Though no sound had passed her lips, the page was littered with smudges where her tears had messed up the ink.
The wind carried sounds that made her shiver, and look toward Dol Guldur.
She threw everything back in her bag, without looking at it. She closed the bag and sat straighter in her place, taking her sword in hand. She needed to clean it by now anyway.
As she started to do just that, two ages seemed to mix together in her mind. It’s only when one of the elves talked to her that she snapped out of it.
She answered him and made a conscious effort to relax.
She needed to finish cleaning her sword and its sheath, there was still spider webs attached to it, alongside dirt and leaves and she preferred not to identify what else it was. She also needed to find a way to get a better stock of healing supplies and she needed to rest, quite frankly.
Not necessarily in that order of importance.
