Young Writers Society

Exeter

Bordering the Sea of Rhûn are a cluster of mountains. Nestled in the foothills of a string of mountains is a town called Exeter. In it live and trade many people of elves and men. There are seldom dwarves in the town, for they keep to themselves in the mountains. Drúedain roam the plains and the forests, but they keep to themselves as well. It is, all in all, a fairly peaceful town, too out of place to be bothered by the large forces of Morgoth as he battles the elves.

Until people start disappearing.

First, a Man would vanish and no one would know where they went. Then another a month or so later. Now, it’s become frequent. Almost every week, sometimes only a few days apart, people vanish and aren’t heard of. Both elves, and men. No one knows where they go or if they’re still alive. Were they kidnapped by the orcs or one of Morgoth’s servants? The question remains to be answered.

Meanwhile, at the Northeastern tip of what would soon be called Mordor lies a place of darkness. There in a dark fortress Morgoth places one of his servants, a Dark Maia named Calsaró. That is his land, none enter without his knowing. Some of the orcs whisper in their harsh tongue that strangers often enter the gates as if they were called. Not orcs these strangers are rumored to be, but Men. Elves. Once on a rare occasion, Dwarves. In the night, cries are heard in the tower, but are muffled by the sounds of orcs working. Even the orcs and balrogs themselves do not know what Calsaró is up to, and what connection he has with these outsiders.

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Character List:

Artíen Arelithion: (Elf) @ChieRynn
Calsaró: (Dark Maia) @ChieRynn
Elmîr Aeran:(Elf) @Lael
Throngorn: (Ent) @Omnom
Llewelyn Arathor: (Human) @Sheytato
Pushkrimp: (Orc) @Thundahguy
Óserë: (Light Maia) @KiraThePotatoChip
Enza Perinnaur: (Corrupted Elf) @ajruby12
Agarwaen Amarth: (Eagle) @FalconerGal9086

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Artíen

There never was much action surrounding the town. Aside from the fishermen coming back from the sea with tales of the one that got away, nothing ever really happened. Recently though, there had been a disappearance. An elf hadn't returned from a hunting trip, and his companions hadn't seen anything of him. There were still search parties scouring the hills for any sign of him, but so far they had all come home empty. He had simply vanished, or so it seemed. A group of elves and men numbering five had set out from Exeter that morning and were just returning now. As always, the same five that went out came back empty handed.

"How could he have just...poofed?" One of the men nervously drummed his fingertips on his palm as he glanced over his shoulder and the ever darkening hills.

Several of the men grunted and huffed, but none spoke the obvious. No one knew. Even the elves didn't know, but they kept their opinions to themselves.

"The only thing I can come up with is that he fell into a bog or mire and was buried. That wouldn't attract the birds after his body." A voice whispered from the rear of the group. Two elves were talking. The questioner held his hand to his chin, his dark eyes thoughtfully staring into the distance.

"That is, if he's even dead." The other elf answered. "He could have been captured."

"By who then, Artien?" The first elf asked.

The second elf, "Artien", remained silent. "It was only a guess. We did find those tracks, we'll go back in the morning to see where they lead. It's not safe in the hills at night."

"You believe the rumors about the fire-drake?" The first elf straightened. The men surrounding them glanced up at the sky and behind them into the forest behind them

"I believe it is possible, and I don't want to find out what it's like to face one with only five on my side."

Artien sighed and pulled his cloak closer around him as the wind picked up. It was getting colder. The other members of the party also wrapped their coverings tighter around them. The wind was in the northeast and it brought the freezing cold down off of the northern mountains. The mountains shrouded in mist. They were in for a cold night, Artien thought. He would have to be up at sunrise to lead the tracking party back out to the hills. He was not looking forward to it. There would be mist in the morning which always made tracking and traveling in general more difficult. The fog clung to your skin like wet piece of clothing and chilled you to the bone. It could hide crouching enemies if they blended with the shadows. Too many goblin raids started on a foggy night. Even now the clouds began to gather around the moon.

Suddenly a startled cry came from the elf who had spoken earlier and he ducked as if trying to avoid being struck in the head. Several shouts came from the men. Artien snatched his bow from his back and set an arrow to the string, but saw nothing to fire at. The elf beside him was panting and holding his bow at the ready.

"What's going on back there?" A man yelled from the front, all of the party bunching together.

Artien looked at his elf friend. "What did you see?"

"I...I saw...I don't know what it was. It blotted out the moon from my sight and seemed to be attacking us. I...I don't know." The elf looked looked anxiously at the sky again.

"Wha'ever it was it was big. Even if it was his imagination." A man commented.

Nervous chatter broke out among the men. Artien scanned the heavens above and saw nothing through the clouds except the moon and a few scattered stars.

Nothing broke the stillness of the night, nothing seemed to disturb the clouds above them. Nothing as of yet, anyway. Whatever had been seen was gone, and the frightened elf held his tongue from further outburst. It could have been his imagination, but again, it just as well might not have been.