Asking the elves for aid.

[screwda]

Screwda's mood had cleared since he'd entered the misty mountains. The rocky ground and the futile air remembered him of his far past. The time he lived without fear. The time that the world feared him. These mountains granted a same feeling of safety, and now he had reached a forest again. This must be the forests around Rivendell, the elven home Screwda heard about once.

Once... in a closer past. The time this troll was tortured. Tortured by mordorian orcs who wanted to twist his mind and change him into a mindless killing machine. But Screwda had a though mind, he resisted most of this all and learned speaking by listening to the orcs. He learned about the world and the far lands. In this way he heard about a far elven town called Rivendell lying beyond the misty mountains next to the great forest of Lothlorien.

Now it was Rivendell which was lying down a high tendril of the misty mountains. It where the elves who aided him once, now he could ask for more. Suddenly his eye fell on a mounted person who was approaching him. Screwda raised his arms and waved at the elf as his voice bellowed over the hills.

"You, over their, this troll means no harm. Me is Screwda, Erressa Melwasúl sent me. Erressa Melwasúl!!"

[Lady Arwen]

Out for another ride, I saw the troll simply dragging its feet through the grass, whether it was hostile or not I could not tell. I could not see into its eyes, nor could I see if there was a snarl or a club in the hand that was not facing me. I grew very alert very quickly and reached down to my side, but found that I had not taken my sword with me. All the defense that I had was a dagger that was always in my saddle. I would kick myself later.

When I heard the thing speak I was flabbergasted. To hear a troll speaking, even one intellegible word, was a near miracle. But this thing spoke sentences. And it said something... familiar. Eressa Melwasúl... She was from Gondor...

"What does she want?" I called gently to the creature, not wanting to disturb it. "Can you understand me?"

[screwda]

Screwda's body shivered heavily as he waited for a response in the seconds after his call. His mind rages past all the possible reaction the unknown elf could give.

It could do tree things. The Elf could run like most elves did. It could fire nasty pointy arrows like the humans. Or it could threaten me with big sharp sword. Or answer me and don't attack.

At the moment the elf noticed him, Screwda knew that his destiny would be signed here, on this mountain's tendril. As she acted hostile, he was doomed to be an enemy deep within the lands filled with dangers but If she acted peacefully, his wrath on Mordor might once be realized.

The elf peered a few seconds at his as if she was petrified but then she moved her arm to her left hip. With this sighn
Screwda looked straight into the eye's of death himself. The elf had checked her defenses, she looked for her sword. So in Screwda's eye's she must be hostile. But then she answered his call and Screwda stood stunned for a moment.

Why be manlike creatures so unpredictable? First she is enemy-like then she answers. Now Screwda answer her back. She be the last chance for me.

"Yes, Elf me understands you well. You be no hostile? She sent me here to be safe and talk to tha elves. She be elflike too! Can I move to you? And who you be?"

Schrewda damned himself for his leak of the common language and for his flow of questions. He moved attentive into the elves direction while waiting for an answer.

[Lady Arwen]

The garbled language was a bit hard to distinguish at first, and there were so many questions that it took me a moment to understand all that was being asked of me. I knew it would be once in my whole life that I would chance to speak to an elf, so with courage I dismounted and stood by my horse.

"I am Arwen of Rivendell, and I am not hostile to friends of Eressa. I will come toward you, as your presence would scare my horse."

I looked into the brown eyes of my steed and whispered for him to return home, because now was not the time for him to be present. As he turned around and galloped in the opposite direction, I turned around and took a few steps toward the troll. As I grew nearer, I noticed more and more how much bigger than me it was, and how much stronger it would be if it was in fact lying.

"Why does Eressa send you to this valley?" I asked as I neared even closer. There were flies buzzing around the beast, and finally I noticed what drew them to the creature; the smell was nausiating, but I held my head high and took a deep breath. I could stand it for the time.

[screwda]

Her reactions where confusing for Screwda's simple mind. First she sought her sword, and told him that she wasn't hostile. Now she said him that his appearance scares her horse but doesn't scare her. She fears for her horse by telling it obviously to leave. Screwda's expression turns sadly for a moment as the elf tells him that her horse fears him, he who fled his whole life, that one is feared. And the one who fears him, is the one he asks for aid. Screwda takes a few seconds to over think this but he finally decides to leave it an focus on the elf again.

"You be Arwen? Me be Screwda. I've been sent to Edras or something like tha. From there I'm going to kill dose Mordor scumbacks, hah. But for now me wants to talk, sleep and tell about Mordor."

Screwda takes of his cap and bows over to show Arwen the scar with the Mordorian sign that lurks there and in fact he also shows a piece of trust by giving the elf a chance to attack him at a vital place.

"These they made, tha nasty Mordor boyz. Who be tha boss me talk to him."

Screwda realizes his immense and inunderstandable stream of words but his happiness makes him forget about his situation and his poor language. He raises his body again and puts back on his cap. Then he grins at the elf and notices at the same moment her aversion against his smell.

"Oh, sorry... ehm... Arwe, me forgots to bow."

Screwda bows deeply before Arwen and then looks at her waiting for her response.

[Lady Arwen]

"I can show you to my father," I said. "He is the final word in all of these matters, and he will no doubt glean more from you than I ever could. His wisdom and power are greater than mine ever will be,"

I turned, and faced the direction of my father's meeting place, and began walking. I didn't hear footsteps behind me, so I turned around and stared at the troll. It was still standing there, the same look on its face. I felt pity for it, as it was not meant to have higher thought, and yet, was destined to be tortured in life to forever be in a middle plane; never to really be ignorant, but never able to fully understand.

"You must follow me," I insisted, turning back around and picking my feet up. The people in Rivendell were not going to be accustomed to the sight or smell of the creature, as hardly any of them have ever really been outside of Rivendell, but as was their nature they would come to know and understand that which they did not.

[aslune]

Sitting tranquily by a steep cliff that overlooked the ominious ravines below Rivendell, Gandalf smiled brightly as he peered upon the beautiful sunset of a glorious Rivendell day. His pupils darted about, as he scanned the area intently for a sign of any slight disturbance. His ancient eyes locked upon a strange scene as he was about to attend an autumn feast in honor of the Fellowship's presence in the magnificient city. The Princess Arwen was conversing, somewhat tensely with a travel-worn troll. At first, he was alarmed greatly by this show of evil disfigurations of Morgoth in these well-protected parts, but then as he focused in gradually, he noticed that the troll had removed it's rusted helm, and had reverently bowed to the royal elf.

Swiftly deciding to attend to the strange situation, he retrieved his faded ble hat from the back of his comfortable chair and donned it, clenching his gnarled staff in his course hands as he did so. Striding through the corridor, he made with haste towards the fortified gate, hoping to catch Arwen before she brought this odd ally into Rivendell, as the stern guards would most likely noch a well-crafted arrow to their polished bows and rapidly shoot the thing before it even came before the wise judgement of Elrond.

Arriving at immense gate, he knocked his long staff gently against the oaken gate, and solumnly called up to the stiff watchers," The Lady Arwen approaches with an out-of-place guest, a troll of wretched Mordor, but stay your fingers, elves. This troll has shown reverence to Arwen, and has removed his helm as a gesture of peace! Do not shoot, I say!"

Stepping over to the oiled crank, he dropped his staff against the lush ground, softly, and then commened to slowly crank the gate open from the inside. When he had finished, he again brought his staff back to his beckoning hand, and preceded to make his way towards Arwen down the narrow path to where she was located.

[screwda]

The second time Screwda understood that the elf wasn't going to take her father to Screwda but that Screwda had to enter the city to talk to him inside. Screwda followed Arwen carefully since every elf he encountered, until now, had attacked him.

After a short time both Arwen and Screwda saw the frontier gate of Rivendell, opened and surrounded by bow armed elves. Screwda saw the glow of polished wood glittering in the far. He knew how skilled these creatures where with bows. He had felt the pain of many arrows piercing his enormous body and most of all he feared them.

How strong should a bow armed Troll be? That be a thing to remember. Maybe a ballista will be nice to smack da Orcs with too.

Screwda grinned as he focused on the gate again. The complete, reinforced wall was filled with armed elves. Their bows where even strained and their arrows where aimed at Screwda, each of them.

"Ehm... Arwe? Ya know for sure your race will trust me. They look mean with their bows. Maybe I can better wait outside for your father?... ya boss."

Screwda shivered as he comes closer and closer to the wooden gate.

[aslune]

As Arwen and the seemingly-intellectual troll slowly condenscended upon the armed gate, Gandalf sudden perceived that all of the loyal defenders had their well-used bows positioned upon the slightly-hunched figure of the troll.

Taking a vast step to face the armored soldiers, he pleaded, with a slight crackle of authority in his voice, " Please, do not shoot I say! This troll seems to be good-natured towards the lot of us!" Clenching hit ancient staff in both callused hands, he swiftly lifted it up high in the air, and then smashed it down mightly on the trodden path to take hold of the attentive guards' full attention.

Making a swift bee-line for the hefty Screwda, he bowed to him, and then whispered softly," I am Gandalf. May I ask your name?"

[Lady Arwen]

"This is Screwda," I told Gandalf as I walked past him. I slowed to a stop, and turned to face him, all the while keeping the troll in my line of vision. "Thank you for warning the archers. I was going to enter before and tell them not to attack, but you seem to be swifter than I today."

I smiled and nodded at him. I did not know when Gandalf had arrived in the city, but I was glad for his arrival. It was none too soon that he had stayed the archer's hands, for my sake and the sake of the creature beside me.

"Screwda requests council with my father, for what reasons I have not yet discerned." I turned to the troll and pointed in toward the city. "I will notify my father of your presence, so if you will wait in the courtyard with Gandalf, I will be back in a moment."

With that, I turned and walked quickly toward my father's house, knowing that he already knew about the troll. I would discuss the matter with him, and hopefully he knew why the troll was sent here, and would explain to me what was going on.

[screwda]

Screwda looks questioning to Gandalf. The elfs still looked piercing at Screwda. The wise words of the wizards kept them from shooting but their distrust still existed. Screwda saw that one wrong movement could doom him, so he stared down at the wizard, trying to converse with him.

"Ya be Gandaf? Then me be Screwda. Me be troll from Mordor and me be here to find place to smack da Mordor orc from."

Screwda seemed very uneasy within the walls of Rivendell with the many bow armed elfs surrounding him.