The curse of Ellanora

Chapter One: The Lost Race

It was raining, that alone brought a small smile to her lips as she stood leaning against a trunk beneath the thick branches of a willow tree out of the way. The dreary weather may dishearten others but it brought fond memories to the woman as the ground became thick with mud and the forest around her became hard to see as the rain thickened. Does pranced through the mist as they bolted for shelter that the trees provided, birds and squirrels hiding in the trees. She was of the Va'tor; trackers of the north.

Her pure black Friesian snorted as he rocked back on his legs, itching from standing in one spot. His saddle beautifully crafted in reds and black carried two black large satchels draped over his rear behind the seat and set with a matching bridal. The brace around his front and between his front powerful legs held the saddle in place along with the strap that circled around the base of his thick tail. His mane was long and thick, crumbled from its braids, his tail long sweeping along the damp ground. His hooves covered in hair that had clomped together by the mud.

"Forgive me Artrios, just a little while longer I promise," she assured him, he gazed at her with dark brown eyes and snorted before bowing his head as he returned to graze at what little grass he could find. Her forever night reflecting silver orbs drifted around the thick misted area until an elderly man in grey robs with a staff and pointy hat astride a horse of Rohan. It was Gandalf the grey riding through the mist as he struggled to navigate; weaving through the trees until he spotted the only willow tree in the area, "Gandalf. It looks as if you are lost."

"That I am my dear," he agreed with a smile as he slid off his mount and walked to her. Pushing off from the tree, she walked half way to meet him, her thin black cloak fell between her shoulder blades and the hood covered her head, the face cover bunched at her neck like a scarf. Her black dress shirt was tucked in a dark brown leather corset with matching belt that hung low on her hips, held a knife pouch on her right thigh with an additional strap wrapped around her leg and arm bracers. Her black breaches were like tights; easy to move around in and black boots adorn on her small feet. An elf cladded in black some would suggest. But she was no elf.

"So tell me, what does Gandalf the grey want me so far south west for?" she questioned moving to Artrios who had her large beautifully crafted hunting bow of black with gold ruins and its matching quiver full of black arrows. The people of the Va'tor were people that stuck to the darkness. Some call them assassins others say shadows. Gandalf watched the maiden slip her bow over her head and attacked her quiver to her spare hip before giving him her full attention.

"I require your services as a tracker," he spoke cautiously as he took a step forward. Her white eyes blinked at him as if asking him to explain. So he pushed the matter further, "Thorin Oakenshield and his company will be on a quest to reclaim Erebor and defeat Smaug."

"No one has ever defeated that retched thief," she suddenly spoke with an echoing hiss in her words as her eyes brightened in the shadows of the tree. Anger coursed through her, "Not the slayers of the north, nor the Elves of Mirkwood. What makes you think Dwarves can stop him?"

"I have faith in them," he resorted but she shook her head, her thick dark mocha locks flying from beneath her hood as she walked back to her stead. He sighed as he waddled after her, mounting swiftly and took the reins in one hand, "Will you deny me such aid?"

"I will aid them, tracking. Nothing more nothing less," she spoke in hard tone, he nodded with a smile on his face; pleased with her answer, "you will tell Thorin Oakenshield of my part but I will not help them on their quest to kill a dragon or reclaim Erebor. That is their task alone."

"Thank you my dear," he bowed before staring up at her, "we shall meet in the Shire within a moons cycle."

"Consider it done," she answered, tapping Artrios's sides and allowed him to take off into a canter, ditching the shelter of the trees and into the open rain. Bringing her hand to her face, she lifted the face cover to hide her mouth and nose as she travelled through the clouded forest. No one needed to know what she looked like.