Grand Prix entries.

Round 5 Entry

'Dispair is only for those who see the end beyond all doubt. We do not', I remember hearing those words at somepoint in my life but I can't recall when or where. Unlike most of my brethren I saw the darkness clearly and foresaw it's risks upon trying my best to warn of the coming storm, it resulted in my banishment and others my age insulting me as a crazed doomsayer. So I bare no name and hardly reveal me face to those whom cross pathes with me.

I was a wanderer, seeking artifacts and scrolls of wisdom left untouched over times past. In my years of travels among that of Man, Hobbit, Dwarf and my fellow Elves they all respect a single condiction upon my hiring as a tracker and that was not to talk to me unless it was important. Bow slinged across my back and a pair of daggers sheathed to my belt I'd set out to perform whatever task at hand ranging from hunting to easedropping and scouting. The odd eye glance at my general direction whilst resting in taverns one evening I overheard a gossip surrounding an old swamp, word was it used to be a Hobbit fishing village but now it was de-solate making me predict something of worth was hidden there leaving one way to know for sure.

Gladden Fields had seen better days and along with what I heard it's hard to picture this was once a settlement or at least the part I was wandering, the thick fog limiting field of view with addition to the thick mud making my boots feel like a giant was holding onto me. Slugging through the mire a outline of a group became barely in view, to my surprise though it was Goblins? It made no sense on why they were here or how far they came, unfortunate for them I had little tolerence for setbacks and a quick few aimed shots from my bow ceased their journey permently. A sudden noise drawing my attention towards the east, someone singing?

Walking ever closer to it's harmonic sound the unexpected clogging of stone against my boot made me freeze a moment before pressing on, letting down the hood and mask that covered my face all I could do was stare at what stood before me. A ghostly figure of a Elf, her singing flowed like water in the winds, she finally rested her eyes on me and at that moment I couldn't move or think, there after I heard an eerie howl over and over again. "Precious", who or what was saying that however when I turned back to the ghost to ask about it she had vanished leaving me at a loss.

Against my bitter judgement I proceeded further into the mired landscape, every few moments that one word would crop up causing my gaze to dart left and right to the point it became an annoyance. Although I did not know what was behind it I was positive that was no meer Goblin, finally reaching some form of structure clearly of Hobbit size and design the noise was getting louder, was it inside?

Ducking my way beneath the door entering the small enclosed house or what remainded of it, what struck me was how ransacked it was. Piles of broken furniture, ruined paintings and smashed pottery laid scattered across the floor, what I sought for however wasn't anything of particular value in terms of gold, I was sent to find a book or a diary more exact. A Hobbit was rumored to of lost his sanity over a powerful object forged from the darkness, so much so it made him into a lurking monster. To my surprise it wasn't much of a search for it had been laid dorment within the bedroom near the bed itself, all those years of gathering dust and yet this little book could hold more knowledge regarding the decent into darkness then any other.

 Upon finally exiting the ruined house a reoccuring smell filled my nostrels, more Goblins only this time they brought a few Orc's. As if it wasn't bad enough I heard conversations to that of Man also, although my kin are allies to the Humans I prefered to not get into a predicament with them overall for they were easy to be swayed to darkness out of their own unfilling void within themselves. That being said I fleeted my way off with the sounds of Goblin and Orc behind on my left and the sound of Man on the right, that eerie voice started again repeating that single word over and over, was it refering to the book or something I disturbed whilst inside the house.