The valley was a patchwork of green, yellow, blue and brownish pieces. The brigands and Alfred were at the bottom of the Dwarven hills. Gorbag motioned toward the east:

-There, Alfred, is the main entrance to the Mines... - and he pointed toward a large clearing much farther below. Next to the clearing there seemed to be some kind of encampment. - That camp you see is the main orc encampment for the northern part of the Froas valley. Had we tried to exit through that gate, we would not be alive by now.

Alfred nodded with understanding. He looked towards the Main Gate and spotted many different tents there, as well as more figures moving about than he could count. He turned to ask Gorbag:

-Gorbag, isn't that encampment a little too big? I didn't think that the Brigand hills deserved such an army to be stationed here.

-Well, you are right about that lad. It seems to me now that there really is a bit too many of those orc-filth over there. I'll tell Rasha about, and let her decide.

Gorbag went to report this to Rasha. While he was gone, Alfred continued to watch the orcish camp. Within a couple of minutes Gorbag returned with Rasha following him. Rasha looked at the camp for a minute or two, and then said:

-Aye, that is a little too big a camp to be only for a raiding company. But I can't guess why would the orcs think this place needed such attention. Anyway, we will continue with our journey. I'll go plan the route now. I'll be in the front if anyone needs me.

Rasha went back toward the rest of the brigands, and Gorbag went after her. Alfred suddenly knew just why were the orcs so interested in the Brigand hills. It was the necklace! They were searching for it, it was obvious. Alfred wondered what exactly was this Ramas, that his necklace was a fragment of. He thought about it for some time, and when a brigand came to him informing him that they will set out now, he still had no answer.

The brigands chose a little path that descended down into the Froas valley. Alfred could see from the grass and different plants that covered it, that the path was unused for quite some time. They soon arrived under the protective embrace of the trees. Alfred instantly felt better. Forests everywhere were his friends, and he felt much safer in them, then he felt in the strongest of castles. Alfred noticed that the brigands were as light-footed as he was, and that they moved with good speed through the woods. The woods that surrounded him were similar to those of his home, although here in the north the trees were smaller, and here and there an island of sunlight in the dark of the woods indicated that a tree fell there, and none had grown large enough yet to take its place. They walked swiftly, and passed several small streams flowing from the Brigand hills to meet with the River of Froas. They stopped to rest at dusk. Gorbag set the watch, and soon everybody but the guards went to sleep. Sometime in the early morning darkness, one of the guards thought he had heard something, but when he searched the trees, he found nothing. The rest of the night passed without incidents.

Alfred woke up in the early morning. The breakfast was already being made, and after he ate it, he went to cleaning his weapon. There was blood on it since that last battle. Alfred was again thinking about the balance of good and evil in the world, when Rasha gave the sign to move again. They walked for the better part of the morning, and forest became a little less dense as they went. Finally, around noon, they came upon a large clearing in the woods. In the middle of the clearing there was a stream, so Rasha gave the sign to stop and fill their waterskins. They had hardly made another step, when suddenly, an arrow came out from the trees, and hit the ground in front of them. They all heard a loud, but melodious voice coming from the trees. It was saying:

-Stop, intruders! You have come to the borders of Laugandar, the Land of the Elves! Present yourselves, or taste our arrows!

For a second the whole of Alfred's party stopped dead in their tracks. Then Rasha stepped in front of her men and shouted:

-I am Rasha, Headmistress of the Lady of Leavenwood! I have seen many lands, won many battles, and these lands I could call my home. I am one with people here. I claim blood-bond with this land and it's people!

A hushed silence fell. Nothing moved for a few moments. Alfred was already thinking that elvish arrows were going to descend onto them any moment now, when the melodious voice answered:

-I know you Rasha, and remember your deeds. Let you and your company be welcome to Laugandar.

A youthful figure stepped out from the shadows under a large oaken tree. A young-looking elf, dressed in green robes and chain mail, approached them. He and Rasha hugged for long a minute. Rasha spoke first:

-Thank you for remembering deeds past, and friendships made long ago, Merin. I come to Laugandar on my way to the Duchy of Leavenwood, to clear my name and the names of my companions. Alfred, step forward - Rasha mentioned Alfred to step forward and so he did.

-Merin, this is Alfred son of Eyral, a messenger from Akkliseoth. He carries a message for Duke Dunnbarrow. I am afraid he bears evil tidings and omens of war. But we think you already know of such things, for evil creeps closer to your lands as well.

Merin the elf looked intently into Alfred for a moment or two, and then his gaze fell upon the necklace on the Alfred's neck. He spoke quietly:

-I see that this young man is more important then he looks. Yes, evil creeps over our lands even as we speak, and I see your errand is a rushed one. We can talk under the trees. Let us go now.

The elf turned around, and vanished under the trees. Rasha motioned the rest of her group to follow. The group slowly disappeared under the majestic green trees of Laugandar, the Land of the Elves.

Alfred walked next to Rasha. Merin was a couple of steps in front of them. They quietly passed under the great trees. Light slowly gave way to green darkness as they went farther in. Already Alfred couldn't see the point where they entered it. Forest was quiet, and ancient. An awareness of sorts washed over Alfred as he went. Birds were silent, and no sound was to be heard. The forest was quiet, and watchful. As they passed streams and fallen logs, Alfred thought that he saw fleeting images of shadows in the darkness. The whole group kept walking in silence, for hours and hours. Scenery changed little, but Alfred sensed a change in direction. They were now going more or less towards northeast. Alfred wondered where were they being taken. Finally, he noticed a cone of sunlight in front of them on the path. After a few more steps, Alfred entered a spacious meadow, full of joy and merriment. They had come to the camp of the Laugandar elves.

The clearing was shaped like an oval, and set with many tables. Dozens of elves were partying in the clearing. Merry songs were sung, wine was drunk, and splendid meals eaten. The sides of the clearing were covered with vines and ropes leading to the elven tree-houses under the canopies of the ancient oaks. As the Rasha's party entered the clearing, the merriment subdued a little. Merin whispered something into Rasha's ear, and then she dismissed her men, and told them to join the feast. She then turned to Alfred and said:

-Come with me now. We have matters to discuss with Prince Almar.

Alfred followed her and Merin to the ropes below the biggest oak tree in the northern side of the clearing. A patriarch of the forest it was, rising thirty feet above other trees, themselves forty feet high. Its age was surely counted in millennia, and Alfred thought that if anyone was around to see the Golden Age when the world was young, this tree was. There Merin and Rasha nimbly climbed the ropes to the platform above. Alfred stared in wonder at their skill for a moment, and then tried to climb himself. He didn't climb up as graciously as Merin, or as fast as Rasha, but after a couple of grunts, and a little bump, he was on the upper platform. The platform was made out of wooden planks in a radial pattern all arouthe bulk of the tree. A large round opening led into the interior of the tree. Merin and Rasha had already disappeared into it. Warm air was coming from the inside of the tree. Alfred steadied himself, and then stepped into the opening.

As he stepped through, green light and a current of fresh air enveloped him. He found himself inside a circular chamber, the size of a small room. A fire was burning in the hole in the center of the chamber. Several elder elves were seated on the floor around the fire, Rasha and Merin among them. They were all dressed in fine green chain and green robes, but none of them had a green emerald tied to his forehead, as did the figure sitting opposite the door. Merin motioned Alfred to sit, so he lowered himself on the ground on the space left for him. The elf with the emerald, looking very old and sleepy, turned towards him, and spoke in a measured but soft voice:

-Welcome, Alfred son of Eyral. I am Prince Almar, leader of my people. I hear you carry a message from King Akkharten to the Duke Dunnbarrow. Is this true?

Alfred shifted uncomfortably under the penetrating gaze of the old elf.

-It is true, Your Majesty.

Almar continued:

-Then my fears have been proven true. Alas, for now we will have to act with speed, rather then stealth. We will need to raid the orc war camp before moon becomes full again, and that is but a few days from now. Have the messengers returned with messages from the Duchies in the upper valley?

One of the elves sitting next to Almar shifted around and answered:

-Yes, they have returned, and with grave news. Many Duchies in the upper valley have been raided, many castles were burned. Only several still stand, and they cannot afford to raise a big army and send it to our aid. They did, however, agree, to send as large a company as they can to aid us. They think they might be able to send four score of men at most, but their lands are far, and we can't expect them for another five days.

Almar listened quietly to these news, and was silent for a while. He then said:

-Grave news indeed. I counted on them to send at least two thousand warriors to stand with us, but any number will be welcome. Since they will arrive too late for our purposes, we have to start planning our attack. First, do we have news of the enemies' strength?

Merin rose and spoke:

-I have scouted to the enemies' camp. Their strength is great, I would say they have at least six thousand orcs to work with. Their thirst for revenge on the land is great, and they will make their move soon. Their camp lies in front of the main northern entrance of the Mines, and it is lightly fortified. My guess would be that they only have supplies to last them about a week, so they will have to resupply soon.

-Good. This means they are hungry, or on half rations at least. Have the captains ready the companies. Muster everyone who can carry a sword! If the orc flood is not stopped here, who knows if it will be stopped at all?

Everyone grimly nodded in silence. Almar sat down, while the other elves left the tree to summon the captains. Merin left with them. A minute later, the tree was empty except for Almar, Rasha, and Alfred. Rasha spoke first:

-Prince Almar, this young man here is the messenger of Akkliseoth, with a message for Duke Dunnbarrow. I think the dwarves are ready to forge a new alliance with your people, Almar. You should send a messenger to them immediately.

Almar looked a little uncomfortable when he responded:

-Yes, an alliance, but with the dwarves? Such a thing hasn't happened since the Dark Times. I am not sure of this.

-Almar, it is the only way. Would you rather see your children die at the orc's axe, then join with the children of the Earth?

-You make me think. Alas, you are right. If the dwarves do not come to our aid, we shall not make it. This army is but a vanguard of the tide of darkness that now approches from the North. It will be done. Now, to other business. - Almar looked toward Alfred. - Young man, I sense great power about you. I guess your quest is one of good, but allow me to warn you. Land north of here is swarming with orcs. You heard the news; there is not a safe place anywhere from here to the Misty Mountains. We don't even know if Duke Dunnbarrow is still alive. Your mission as a messenger might not even matter anymore. Would you not join us, and leave this letter to be delivered in a better time? We could use your help.

Alfred looked straight at Almar, and couldn't decide what to say. What Prince Almar was saying was probably true, but something deep inside him was nagging, telling him this was wrong. For a second he wrestled with himself, then came to a decision:

-Prince Almar, my honor doesn't allow me to abandon this mission, however hopeless it might seem. I will, however, ride with you against the orcs, because their camp is in my way. After the battle, I will decide if the message still holds any meaning, and act accordingly.

Prince seemed to reflect on this for a time, then made a thin smile:

-Your courage, young man, is commendable, as is your sense of honor and duty. You might find our battle to be a lost cause, but we are not dead yet. Welcome, and ride with us today!

Almar formally bowed to Alfred, and Alfred did likewise. Rasha smiled, and chuckled a little. Prince Almar made his exit out the tree, and started summoning his personal guard. Rasha watched him as he went out, and then turned to Alfred.

-Alfred, young man, awaken! Don't just sit there dumbfounded! It is indeed time for action. We have to prepare to ride with the Elves to battle! Come with me now, to the armorer.

Alfred rose up, while Rasha was already hurrying out of the tree. Alfred saw she was already rappelling down the tree, and yelled after her:

-I will be right behind you!

He then felt the necklace with his hand. It was warm, and felt good in his hand. Alfred thought, if this battle was to be the last one, he cannot allow the necklace to fall into the orcs' hands. He decided, if the battle turns for evil, that he will depart the battlefield as fast as possible, and hurry to Ebening with as much speed as possible. It hurt him to think he might be promising himself to run away from battle, and be branded a coward for all time, but he had no choice. He could only hope battle will go for good and orcs will be defeated. He the shrugged of dark thoughts and hurried after Rasha.

As he rappelled down the lianas hanging from the tree, he noticed the celebration was gone - tables were set aside, songs were quieted, ribbons and merry bands put away. Everywhere he could see elves preparing for battle, donning chain mail, readying swords, shields, bows and arrows. In one corner he saw Rasha's men preparing their weapons as well. The change was eerie; just quarter an hour ago this was the site of happiness, and joy. Now, all he could see was grim determination, and hard faces, strong and resolute. Alfred hurried after the Rasha's diminishing figure. She was moving swiftly toward one of the tree-houses. The tree-house she was going to was very big, and the opening was at ground level. There was a red glow of the forge shining through the opening, and a pillar of smoke rising from the top of the tree. Alfred entered the smithy only moments after Rasha. The smithy was a big round chamber with many fires and four big forges. Elven blacksmiths were busy repairing weapons and armor, hammering and shaping metal with great skill and speed. The chamber was full of loud clanks, and all sorts of metallic sounds. The noise level was astounding, for it didn't seem as loud on the outside. Alfred took a moment to reorient himself. The only lights in the chamber came from the glowing red forges, and everything seemed bathed in blood. Finally Alfred spotted Rasha, waving and shouting to him from one corner. He walked to that corner, where he found an elderly elven smith working on an arrowhead, talking to Rasha at the same time. As soon as Alfred arrived, Rasha introduced him to the smith. Alfred bowed, and the smith then proceeded to work on the arrowhead. Rasha told Alfred to leave his weapons and armor to this smith, and come with her. Alfrtook off his armor, reluctantly lowered his sword to the ground, and followed her. She led him to a table with a great selection of bows, arrows, and quivers. Then she helped him pick one bow, and fill a big quiver full of elven arrows. Alfred sensed the enchantment in the bow, and arrows. These were the unerring elven arrows, and he had the honor of using them! Alfred felt very proud of himself, and couldn't wait to meet the orc army, and test the bow. He then went back to the smith, who was just finished working with his weapons and armor. Smith turned to Alfred, put his hammer to the table, and said, in a very rough voice:

-Young man, your armor is of the finest quality, of a trademark that I haven't seen in a long, long time. And the sword, it is a weapon fit for a king! I know not of your present stature in the world of men, but we elves know that weapons such as these - as the smith spoke these words, he sheathed Alfred's sword, and bluish light filled the chamber. - are not given to men of lesser virtue. Use it well, and cleave orc-heads till earth turns red with their blood!

The sword's light grew more intense, and for a moment everyone in the chamber stared into it. Then the smith put it back into its cover, and everyone resumed their work. Smith motioned Alfred to don his armor, and so he did. As Alfred was finishing the last of the straps of his plate mail, the smith offered Alfred one last piece of advice:

-Although this armor has no weak points, you should still take care to protect your neck; orc-axes might relieve you of your head, and the armor doesn't protect you from that.

Alfred touched the bare portion of his neck with his hand, and then he smiled.

-I will, worry not of that, master smith. I will.

While Alfred was donning his armor, Rasha left smithy and headed out. A minute later, Alfred was ready, and he briskly walked out of the tree-chamber. Outside, the merry elven encampment was gone.

Rows upon rows of elven companies stood ready for a forced march. Captains and nobles rode on gray steeds, in fine livery, and noble green. Each elf was clad in green elven chain mail, and had a long sword at its side. They each also possessed a great bow of oak, and a quiver full of deadly elven arrows. There they stood, as many as twelve hundred in number, ready and resolute. Then Almar gave the sign, and the march was started. As the first companies passed by, Alfred noticed Rasha, beckoning him to her company. He hurried over to the corner of the clearing, where Rasha and her companions stood. They were all proudly wearing gleaming green elven chain, from the armories of Laugandar. Rasha was riding on a dark brown steed, which was hoofing impatiently, steam rising from its nostrils. Gorbag was riding a smaller dark gray horse right next to Rasha, his mace ready to strike. Rasha pointed to the third horse, a small reddish brown colt, and Alfred mounted it easily. Then Rasha made the sign to move, and they joined the elven companies riding to the northeast.

Forest was gloomy, and it was getting towards the late afternoon. The yellow light of the sun, reflected under the tree-tops, made strange shadows that danced on the forest floor, gray and blue. Companies arrayed were now walking in great silence, and Alfred was amazed how such a large group of people could make so little in the way of sound, passing quickly through the forest. This forest was strange to Alfred, for although he could feel its rhythms, they were old, and tainted with sadness he could not understand. He remembered Eyral and his musty room at the top of the tower, where, under the window, he read books and scrolls, histories and ballads, books all older than himself by many summers. It was strange to be in a place that had seen great battles of the ancients, great heroes, and great villains, so long ago. This forest had seen many ages of the world, and now it was grieving for what was lost, so long ago that even the oldest of elves were not yet born at that time, and thus knew naught of buried past hidden in these trees. Alfred felt closer to the trees for a moment, than to the living, breathing human beings he was marching with. He longed to become a tree himself, to know of nothing but the slow passage of the seasons, in their ancient order. He wished to feel the sunlight fall upon him and that he forget everything he knew and fall deep into the peaceful slumber of forgetfulness. But he couldn't. With a sharp pang of pain he reminded himself of his duty, and honor, and promises that needed to be kept. He remembered the hate burning in his heart, and his thoughts lost their serenity. He could think of nothing but wrath and destruction now. He saw orcish faces laughing at him as they hacked the trees. Suddenly he understood the sadness of the trees; but for all the good that had passed under these trees since the beginning of time, evil was stronger still, and kept returning to conquer it. He felt small and worthless, and wanted to cry for Eyral, and his friends. But then, as he felt the weight of necklace, and the responsibility that went with it, on his neck, a warm feeling started trickling through his body. It slowly turned to steel resolve as he kept marching. Alfred was sure now. If he could do anything to stop evil, even for a small moment, and only in a very small way, he would do it even if it cost him his life. He knew he could prove the trees were wrong, that evil could be defeated. Now he started riding a little faster, and only then noticed how fast was their army going.

Elves were marching at a great pace, and Rasha's men had difficulties following. The forest was quiet, and shades of green and blue gradually turned to gray as the sun sank below the sea in the far, far west. Elven companies were eating and drinking even as they marched, and never stopped to slow their pace. Silence was now absolute. As they drew near the edge of the forest, signs of wanton destruction became more and more evident. Trees with axe-marks on their trunks, felled branches, devoid of life, and scarred patches on the ground where orc parties made fire. Alfred was disgusted to see such destruction visited on such a majestic forest, and added another grievance to be avenged to the already long list of orcish malefactions. Finally, they approached the borders of Laugandar. Here small groups of elven scouts joined them, and a short conference was held among the elven nobles. While Prince Almar and the others made battle plans, Alfred inquired Rasha as to how do elves intend to successfully assault an encampment with six times their number in orcs, and destroy it. Rasha slowly nodded and then answered:

-I see that you do not know the battle rage of the elves. In the dark of the night, their arrows will come as a swift, silent rain of death on their unsuspecting enemies. Prince obviously plans to raid the encampment, mayhap just before dawn, and to kill and destroy as many as possible. First, there will be a shower of arrows, flaming, and poisonous. After that, amid great confusion, orcs will attempt to trace the attackers, and will leave the lights and the protection of their own camp. A grave error that will be. There the elves will form a wall of arrows, and slay many before they even reach them. Those that do, will feel the sharp elven blade. That is the battle plan. I and my company will be among the ones to make the diversion - we will raid a corner of the encampment, and lead a good part of orcish force away, into the dark. There we will attack from the dark, taking out as many as we can. I have seen you with the sword; your skill with it is great. Does your skill extend to the bow? Don't tell me, I see it in your eyes. Just go out tonight, and kill as many as you can. We still have several hours before dawn, though. So when we reach our starting point, you should go then and prepare yourself, and your soul.

Alfred intently looked at Rasha, and felt his bow.

-Yes, orcs will pay for their crimes. The strategy sounds well based. Your advice is good. I think I'll do as you say.

As they finished their conversation, the elven host continued their journey in deep si. The trees grew more and more sparse, and forest gave way to the northern plain. Grass was green-gray here, and very short, as it had to be, to survive the winds from the north. They were now passing from the Brigand hills to the dry and wind-swept plains east of the upper valley of Froas. Cold wind was howling, bringing chilled breath to darken the hearts of Men and Elves alike. Misty Mountains loomed in shadow above them, and cooled the passions in everyone's hearts. They were entering the enemies' domain. As they passed from the forest into the plains, Alfred felt dread clutch his soul. He didn't feel as brave now as when he told Rasha that he will make orcs pay for their crimes. Now, he just didn't know what would fate bring next to be. He saw the companies rearranging themselves even as they moved, to form three groups. Rasha and Alfred led their company toward the main group of the elves. Shapes and shadows were harder and harder to discern in the deepening gloom of the night. A shadow passed, and the host was gone from the sight of mortal men.