apart to go unnoticed by any one other than an elf, or a dragon.
He wanted to see what they were doing here, and where they were going, but did not have the time to investigate. He would wait until he reached Argnon, and relay the information to whoever may think it of interest. Litlorn had been to Argnon before, but only once, since the dragons disappeared, and not for more than one hundred years. The lives of men were very short compared to Elves, and he never knew what to expect when he came to their lands. The dwarf's however, lived almost as long as the Elves.
He visited Kraudgov under the Purple Mountains several times since his childhood, and each time that he traveled across the lands of men, new towns were where no town was in the past, and towns they once visited, were no longer there. The land grew wilder, and there were fewer people each time he came here, but this time it was almost empty for the lands of men. These groups that traveled at night had no women with them, as far as he could see, and he could see no sign of them during the day from the treetops, or any hill he came across, and he thought it odd.
Three nights of watching as they made their way west, gave him time to study the mystery further. On the fourth night however, he could see them no longer. He did not believe the groups of men no longer traveled, but that they only used the wilder northern part of the Great Empire. Elves could see farther than all of the other races, but even they could only see so far.
Menimeth would know what this mystery was about, though he was not raised in this land, he knew the ways of evil men from his years of chasing Chidren. Litlorn's father had told him everything about the warrior that he knew, and he received news of him often. For the longest time, he did not understand why his father showed so much interest in someone from the race of man, because they lived such short lives, and worked so hard while they lived, that it seemed that they burned themselves up too fast. All their work appeared to be for nothing to the other races, because nothing of it remained for very long after they were gone. Not since the dragon riders and their stone castles, did the works of man survive more than one or two hundred years.
Two months had passed since he had seen the men in the wilds, and he was much farther south now. Argnon was no more than a few days away, and Litlorn needed time to prepare the gifts he was too present to the men he was sent to find. A small stream flowed lazily by as Litlorn rode beside it, until he found what he was looking for. The stream wound its way through the countryside, sometimes turning back on itself as it flowed. The place he found was where a bend had been created in the stream by a hill that stood in its path. There was a glade in the bend with a very large oak tree in the center, and smaller oaks were around it. A waterfall had formed at the base of the hill that caused the stream to change its course, and it dropped three feet into a pool, before moving on. Litlorn rode to the base of the large tree, and unloaded the packhorse. He removed the saddle from the one he rode before moving them to the grass that was close to the water, and cast a spell to hide his camp, and then built a fire.
After his supper was eaten, and everything was cleaned and put away, he worked at his task until it was complete. Everything was separated and wrapped in silk, then tied with spun gold thread. It had rained a few weeks before, and the stream was still full from the water it produced. He had filled his water skins from the waterfall and placed them on a branch just above the ground, to cool better during the night. He did not worry about his camp because of the spell he placed on it, but no one could have crept up on him anyway. It was late when all was completed to his satisfaction, and he climbed the tree to sleep.
The next morning Litlorn changed from his
He wanted to see what they were doing here, and where they were going, but did not have the time to investigate. He would wait until he reached Argnon, and relay the information to whoever may think it of interest. Litlorn had been to Argnon before, but only once, since the dragons disappeared, and not for more than one hundred years. The lives of men were very short compared to Elves, and he never knew what to expect when he came to their lands. The dwarf's however, lived almost as long as the Elves.
He visited Kraudgov under the Purple Mountains several times since his childhood, and each time that he traveled across the lands of men, new towns were where no town was in the past, and towns they once visited, were no longer there. The land grew wilder, and there were fewer people each time he came here, but this time it was almost empty for the lands of men. These groups that traveled at night had no women with them, as far as he could see, and he could see no sign of them during the day from the treetops, or any hill he came across, and he thought it odd.
Three nights of watching as they made their way west, gave him time to study the mystery further. On the fourth night however, he could see them no longer. He did not believe the groups of men no longer traveled, but that they only used the wilder northern part of the Great Empire. Elves could see farther than all of the other races, but even they could only see so far.
Menimeth would know what this mystery was about, though he was not raised in this land, he knew the ways of evil men from his years of chasing Chidren. Litlorn's father had told him everything about the warrior that he knew, and he received news of him often. For the longest time, he did not understand why his father showed so much interest in someone from the race of man, because they lived such short lives, and worked so hard while they lived, that it seemed that they burned themselves up too fast. All their work appeared to be for nothing to the other races, because nothing of it remained for very long after they were gone. Not since the dragon riders and their stone castles, did the works of man survive more than one or two hundred years.
Two months had passed since he had seen the men in the wilds, and he was much farther south now. Argnon was no more than a few days away, and Litlorn needed time to prepare the gifts he was too present to the men he was sent to find. A small stream flowed lazily by as Litlorn rode beside it, until he found what he was looking for. The stream wound its way through the countryside, sometimes turning back on itself as it flowed. The place he found was where a bend had been created in the stream by a hill that stood in its path. There was a glade in the bend with a very large oak tree in the center, and smaller oaks were around it. A waterfall had formed at the base of the hill that caused the stream to change its course, and it dropped three feet into a pool, before moving on. Litlorn rode to the base of the large tree, and unloaded the packhorse. He removed the saddle from the one he rode before moving them to the grass that was close to the water, and cast a spell to hide his camp, and then built a fire.
After his supper was eaten, and everything was cleaned and put away, he worked at his task until it was complete. Everything was separated and wrapped in silk, then tied with spun gold thread. It had rained a few weeks before, and the stream was still full from the water it produced. He had filled his water skins from the waterfall and placed them on a branch just above the ground, to cool better during the night. He did not worry about his camp because of the spell he placed on it, but no one could have crept up on him anyway. It was late when all was completed to his satisfaction, and he climbed the tree to sleep.
The next morning Litlorn changed from his
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