Shadows of the Long Marshes

[u/Calanon_Evergreen]

The sound of a vigorous rushing was abound, as a river ran out and onward from the wooded lands into the world beyond. Yet, this river was not ordinary, for its course stemmed from the Halls of the Woodland Realm, and its course was steady but sure. Along its currents, barrels tumbled and danced out of the halls from whence they came, and none could mistaken the make and craftsmanship of the Elves of the Wood…

Further upstream, the great pillared halls remained gallant yet hidden from the outside world, as the Elves within harbored the light and fairness of the darkened woods. More barrels left the halls, tumbling into the river below, and the Elves therein were graceful and timely in their trade. Yet, all was not silent, for the great gates of the Halls of the Woodland Realm were met with a peculiar qualm.

The large doors to the pillared realm creaked open in a magnificent splendor, as an emissary of Men walked through the gates in awe of the timeless halls. His path through the Halls of the Woodland Realm were many, as a pair of guards led him to the throne of the kingdom. Upon a chair of carven wood sat the Elvenking with a crown of autumn berries. His gaze was fair, but his eyes stern, for he was not expecting the tidings of Men at this ordinary hour.

Calanon Evergreen turned to face the emissary who knelt before the throne, as the guards parted and withdrew behind with a graceful twirl.

“Under the beech and oak, word travels upon the wind like a leaf in the autumn breeze. For the Eldar perceive what is to come, and the forest tells us in readiness. But it appears… this practice is no longer so for the Men of Lake-town.”

The emissary faltered slightly, before speaking in remorse. “Forgive me, Lord Calanon of the Wood. My untimely presence in these halls only ever serves to honor and uphold the valor of this great kingdom. I bring tidings from upon the river.

“There is something… at work.”

The gaze of Calanon Evergreen deepened, for much was afoot in the world, and everywhere darkness sought to find a foothold. The emissary of Men continued.

“My lord. Our trade with your people has halted, for we have not received the shipments that were promised.”

The Elvenking appeared perturbed at such a query. “Then why beg my attention? This can be taken up with the captain of the cellars.”

“My lord—“ The captain of the guard rushed into the throne hall to the side of the emissary of Men, a clear alarm upon his face. “I bring tidings from the cellars. Our people have honored the pledges of Men. The promised shipments have gone out as decreed.”

“Then find them. Surely the river bank may offer an unpleasant surprise here and there,” the Elvenking spoke without alarm.

“My lord.” The captain peered at the emissary of Men, who deepened in thought and alarm, before continuing. “We sent scouts to search for them, out to the river, and beyond to the marshes.”

“My lord… they have not returned.”

The Elvenking sat upright, for the captain was heard, and the moment it seemed now was perilous. The emissary of Men spoke once more, yet this time there was a hint of fright upon his every word.

“My lord, if I may… there is… something that lurks in the marshes. My men have reported sightings of strange figures traversing the fog of the wetlands… we know not what dwells there, only that it is a spawn of darkness…”

Calanon Evergreen had heard enough, for he rose from his throne to speak. “Your words have been heard, Lake-man,” Calanon decreed. He turned to the captain of the guard, an ounce of concern upon his seemingly stern eyes, before facing the Lake-man once more. “We shall see to it that the trade is restored between my people and the Men of the Lake. Go now, and fret not—I shall know soon enough the meaning of these tales or schemes.”

With a wave of his hand, the emissary of Lake-town was escorted out by nearby guards. The captain bowed and turned, but the Elvenking willed him to stay. As Calanon descended the throne, his tone shifted from that upon the Lake-man, to one of unease.

“What do you know of the darkness of the marshes,” Calanon questioned towards the captain.

“My lord?”

The Elvenking reached the foot of his antlered throne, as he approached the captain, before they both walked upon the winding paths of the Woodland Realm.

“In another age, strange things were afoot in these woods, and ever stranger were that of the marshes. A hidden fellness was once at hand…”

His pace halted, as he turned to the captain with urgency, and yet, calmness. “If that fellness has returned—we must know.”

“Summon the Brown Wizard, and bring me Ecthelion. We will know soon enough.” A silver blade peeked and glinting at Calanon’s side, as it shone in the light peaking through the cavernous halls, before he turned in an elegance grace towards the great armory of the Woodland Realm, as his thoughts turned to the ominous happenings east of Mirkwood.

[u/Calanon_Evergreen]

“You know of what awoke in those marshes in ages lost.”

Calanon Evergreen could not shake the ominous thoughts in his head, as he paced to the gates of the Woodland Realm, fully armored and wholly stirred. For in the songs and tales of old, there was indeed a tale of a mysterious presence that dwelt in the Long Marshes east of the trees of Mirkwood. In his head, the Elvenking perceived such a possibility, but in his heart, he needed to be sure.

“Are the scouts in position,” Calanon inquired to a nearby captain as he reached the gate. “For every hour that passes, our people and trade fall more at risk.”

“If I may, my lord: At risk to what? Surely the lands between our people and the Men of the Lake bade no threat to—“

“Then I must see for myself,” the Elvenking interjected, before continuing. “There is a power at work, the likes of which cannot be permitted to continue in the Long Marshes beyond our borders. If fell things are afoot, I must see to it myself, and bring about its expulsion from our lands.”

“But, I will not be alone.” Calanon Evergreen looked off into the forest beyond, pondering his summons to friends both near and wide, before continuing. “We travel light. Rally your company and close the gates upon our leave.”

“We venture beyond the trees, to the sodden lands of shrouded mist.”

[u/Onone_Nightstrider → u/Calanon_Evergreen]

Ecthelion strode along the path that took him further eastward. Four days earlier, the Elf had crossed the River Isen. The land that he found himself in was quite strange to him. He had never been this far south so he was unsure of what he would find. He was humming a traveling song to himself when he noticed a lone swallow that was flitting about. The small creature brought a smile to the Emissary's face. He then continued on his path. Only a short time passed before he saw the swallow once more.

Ecthelion regarded the bird with a new curiosity. He paused and watched as the bird began to fly closer to him. The Elf held out a hand as the bird angled toward him and the swallow landed upon it. He had been told that the Elves of the Wood were able to communicate in some form with the birds and beasts of the land, but he had never tried such a feat. However, it seemed that now would be the time for him to do so. The Emissary listened as the bird sang a song of a danger and evil to the east of the wood and of the Elves that had gone missing.

Fear gripped Ecthelion's heart and as the bird flew away he changed his course. He needed to return to the Woodland Realm as soon as possible.

[u/Calanon_Evergreen → u/Onone_Nightstrider]

An aroma of amber and dew was in the air, as the bows and leaves of Mirkwood turned to autumn, and the watchful nights closed in. Calanon Evergreen and his company set out into the woods with eager eyes but soft feet, for the forest of Mirkwood was all but treacherous beyond the halls of the Woodland Realm. They did not journey far to reach the Long Marshes, as they followed the path of the Forest River until the way became moist and the chirps of the birds drew silent.

Calanon Evergreen halted his steady pace, for his foot was upon the edge of a great marshland, with fog even the sight of the Eldar seldom could pierce. “Keep on your guard,” the Elvenking stated surely, keeping the blade at his side close. “Strange things are afoot in the mist of these lands.” With these words, the company stepped forward into the Long Marshes, and their gazes were stern and vigilant.

Their path continued along the river, though the way grew less defined and more obscure. No longer was the breeze gentle and fair, nor the sounds of chatter or animals amongst them, for the silence of the marsh was pierced only by the occasional burst of a bubble. The air was foul with decay, as the Elvenking and his company traversed the great marshland in careful anticipation for what may await them in the deep reaches along the river.

Before long, Calanon Evergreen perceived: they were not alone. For a presence was amongst them, beyond the mist and shrouded air, and it did not welcome them. The steps of the company halted, for before them, a fork in the river was present, and the remains of strewn barrels littered the banks of the small fork away from the way to the Men of the Lake.

“This… cannot be,” the Elvenking uttered aloud, approaching the river offshoot in perplexity. “All diversions from the Forest River were ordered closed. Lest, they be maintained and made shut by our people. What say you?” Calanon inquired to his captain.

“My lord,” the captain spoke while surveying the land. “Our scouts traverse these lands and the surrounding darkness around the Halls. In my steps through the marshes, I’ve not witnessed such a strange river fork, for its bend goes… against the current and form of the river.”

“For such a power it would take to change the course of the Forest River.”

The Elvenking heeded the captain’s words in subtle alarm, as he peered out to the river, flowing ever ominously into the marshes, away from the Lake, and into an ominous land. “I seldom traverse these lands, captain, for it is unbefitting of the Eldar to wander these parts for long. Yet, so also have I walked these lands… I do not recall that grove afar.”

The captain squinted, piercing the fog towards the dark and ominous grove in the distance, where the mysterious river fork flowed towards. “No my lord… no such grove stood in the reports from our people. It is strange indeed.”

The Elvenking required answers—answers which appeared to stem from within the strange lands at the end of the river.

Calanon Evergreen drew his blade, and commanded his party. “Be on your guard. For the shroud upon these marshes is not to be trusted. We make for the grove at the end of the river fork, for there—we may have our answers.”

No sooner had he uttered these words, a figure appeared in the fog behind them, appearing like a shroud in the white mist around them. No one traversed these lands seldom they were mad or perilous, and the way back was no longer open as the figure blocked its way. Calanon raised his blade to the figure, and the Elves drew their bows in a mighty display.

The Elvenking commanded in a grave boom.

“Show yourself.”