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"I think it would be wise of us to find them and find out what they know of the matter," he said softly in agreement with Lin. It made sense, that the people who brought the fortress back would know more than anyone else ... though he was certain that even their knowledge would be limited.

"I believe that no one has been there since they returned," he murmured thoughtfully, "but it is not in ruins ... only a section of it is, where the meeting room was located ... the rest was left untouched, perhaps because of the knowledge that was contained ... though the young man said that it had a feel of magic, so perhaps a spell was put on it to keep it safe."

"To be honest," Sir Valdemar admitted, "I'm not entirely sure. I know that one - the elder - lives with her family in Namu Ngulu, several hundred miles to the south of here. Her brother ... well, no one has seen him since that time, and we do not know where he is."

He grew silent, thoughtful. It would indeed be worth finding out ... not that the two would be able to offer any help in destroying the creature, but they could certainly shed some light on its very existence.

"I will be writing to the one as soon as we reach my study," Sir Valdemar affirmed, "though how much she will be able to help, I cannot say. As to its origin ..."

He paused just outside the door of his study, holding the door frame as if using it to balance himself.

"It depends on how you define person," he murmured. "The word morgawr is simply the High Elven word for a Rock Troll, as you saw from the book ... brought forth from the depths of Udún by Melkor himself. Yet they did not, for a time, seem as evil as the other creatures brought forth by Melkor ... some of them tended towards the good, and in order to be truly fair the druids decided to choose one of them - the least evil of them, they thought - to become one of them, to study with them, to gain control of magicks not innate to it. For decades, all seemed well ... until the dark magic was discovered."

His expression hardened, and he stepped into the study, motioning for Lin to follow. "From the outset, the druids forbade its use and destroyed the tomes that spoke of it ... yet within that very day, the morgawr showed its true nature, destroying the druids."

Sir Valdemar shrugged one shoulder, setting the ancient tome down on his desk before taking a seat.

"I do not know," he replied simply. "No one does. All who were at the meeting are dead ... and the last druid is also dead now. Perhaps it was the dark magic, perhaps they were trying to think of a way to rid themselves of the morgawr, or perhaps they were even discussing whether or not to replace Achaar as High Druid ... that is a mystery that will never be solved."

He opened a drawer and pulled out a clean sheet of paper, then grabbed his quill and dipped it into his inkwell.

"Do you have any other questions?" he asked as he began to write. "I cannot say how much time I will have here, Her Majesty may be sending me elsewhere soon to deal with the matter at hand, so it is best you ask your questions now while you have the opportunity."

"If I did not know better," Sir Valdemar smiled weakly, "I would think you could see my thoughts. That is exactly where Her Majesty intends to send me ... to find Lord Aldrich and find out from him everything that I can."

He sighed heavily. "I only wish she knew what a toll this is, both for me and for him," he said sadly. "I do not wish to bring my Lord into something he does not wish to be a part of ... especially when he had already expressly forbidden me to tell the Queen of his identity. Yet what else could I do? I can only hope that he will even speak to me."

Sir Valdemar smiled at Lin across the desk. "I will be just fine, don't you worry," he said warmly. "My only fear in regards to Lord Aldrich is that he will be angry ... I know he would never harm me."

He sighed. "On the other hand, I must admit that for once I do not look forward to meeting with him again ..."

Sir Valdemar couldn't help but chuckle softly.

"That's a first," he murmured, the old familiar twinkle returning to his eyes. "But now I have to work ... perhaps more seriously than I have in a long while. Why don't you see if you can find Prince Earendil? I am sure he must be around somewhere, he is usually back from the mountain by this time. Perhaps the Dining Hall, or his bedchambers?"

Earendil meanwhile was just leaving his bedchamber and heading down the hall towards the tower stairs, intent on making his way to the Dining Hall for some lunch. He had trained hard all morning, and had just finished a cooling bath. He was pretty much the same as ever - save for one thing. His black hair, usually neatly brushed or braided and hanging down to the small of his back, had been cut short - it was now less than two inches long.

As he walked down the hall, he kept running his fingers through his still-wet hair, trying to make it lay flat - something that he had discovered since cutting his hair was a losing battle. It always wanted to stick out somewhere or other ... either the back or the front, or, as was the case today, everywhere all at once.