Once upon a time in the West of Middle Earth, there was a large forest. It is gone now, long forgotten in the passing of time, but once it was full of trees, animals, and two small houses on opposite edges of the forest. One had a view over the sea, and one could stand on the edge of the cliff, hoping to catch a glimpse of the lands that lie beyond, where the Valar live and guard the world. The other was located on the edge of the forest and a barren plain, and there was nothing but dry land, as far as the eye could see. These two houses were occupied by two strange men. One of them, Agragag, had spent his life living happily, amongst tree, bird and the sound of the waves. The other, Smook, had a harder existence, for though his house was located in the forest, the trees there were not so lively and green, and only few animals ventured to that edge of the forest. Though the forest was not so large, the men had never encountered each other, nor had they seen any living soul in a long time. They were quite content with this, because they preferred the calmness of the forest. Until, one day, both of them ventured to the centre of the forest. A large clearing lay there, and within it was a large well. Both men had a strong sense of magic, and knew that this well contained a pure, untainted magic. Every now and then they would visit this place, and ponder about the well, its existence and its purpose. Then, on that day, they met each other at the clearing for the first time. Smook was sitting on a large boulder near the well, throwing small pebbles into it. He was amazed at the sound of splashing water, which he, living at the edge of a land that never felt the power of life which is water, did not get to hear very often. Then, he heard a bristling of the leaves on the other side of the clearing. A cloaked figure stepped out of the bushes, looked around, and startled at the sight of Smook.
He regained his composure and spoke, in a melodious voice ‘Hail stranger! I did not know any others travelled these woods?’
Smook eyed the man, and said ‘I thought the same, for I come here often but has never seen another living being besides the trees and the animals inhabiting this forest.’
The figure nodded, and said ‘Well, it is nice to meet you but I prefer my solitude. I have, things, I need to do.’
And without telling his name, he was suddenly out of sight. Smook pondered about this while throwing pebbles into the well. He could have sensed the man’s magic, and was confident that the man had felt a magical presence with him too. Did he feel threatened by Smook? And what was this talk about having things to do? What could be so important that a short conversation was already too long? Smook decided he would try to track down the man and find out what he was doing. He reached out and sensed the residue of a portal, which was likely what the man had used. Channelling his power into the residue, he recreated the portal and entered. He was startled to see that he had ended up on the edge of a high cliff, with so much water beneath it! He had never imagined that there could be so much water at one place, while the land he lived constantly begged for a few drops of rain. He was amazed at the sound of the waves, and to see so many animals there! Birds flew over his head, screaming, and he could even see living creatures in the water. After regaining himself from the shock, Smook looked around and saw a small house beneath the trees behind him. Cloaking himself, he went near the house, and suddenly heard an evil laughter coming from within. He hid beneath the small window and peered inside with great care. There the man was standing, looking at something on the floor. He seemed older than Smook would have guessed from their encounter at the clearing, his hair grey yet his face smooth and young.
The man spoke “Ahh finally! No longer will I become older, nor will I die! Forever I will live here and enjoy my peace. And no one will take that from me!”
Smook shuddered. He, who had seen death, and how new life can grow from it, did not fear death. But this man, he seemed so eager to cling to his life.
Smook shuddered once more and inspired by an act of bravery, decided to talk to the man. He knocked on the door and waited for a minute. Then he heard some muttering and the door opened.
“What do you want?” the man asked.
Smook coughed and said “Well I was intrigued by your presence at our meeting, my kind man, and I was hoping we could talk some more”.
“I have no time, nor the desire to talk to anyone. It is why I went to live here, to get rid of the world. I mean, to escape the world!” the man said, his voice hushed and irritated.
“You and me, we’re somewhat alike though”, Smook said. “We are beings of magic, and I can sense your magic may compliment mine”.
“Yes”, the man muttered. “Alright, we will talk”.
Smook nodded and asked ‘May I know your name? I am Smook.”
The man sighed and said ‘Alright. I am Agragag. Lets go inside.”
The man walked into the house and Smook followed, examining his surroundings.
They sat down in a living area. A loud whimper came from the next room and Agragag stood up, looking around warily, and said ‘I shall make some tea, yes!’ and went to the other room. Smook, driven by curiosity, followed him and peeked through the door.
He saw that there was a being on the floor. It was not exactly human, but it was the essence of a human. It seemed disfigured, and incomplete. It twitched, kicking its undeveloped limbs around. Agragag tried to sooth the being by touching it, but then it let out a terrible scream, filling the forest with terror and fear.
“It is ok, my love,” Agragag said. “Soon, you will be complete, and my transformation too”.
Smook pondered this terrible sight, and muttered. Agragag heard this and looked around. “You! Why do you mingle in?? This is my business!” Agragag lunched at him, and fire filled the space between the two men. Smook tried to evade the firebolt directed at him, but was hit on his arm.
“Business indeed, foul and tainted! What is this heathenness sorcery?” Smook yelled.
“I want to live!” Agragag screamed. “Not to get old, like you, ugly and broken. No, this land shall be mine forever! It is mine, and as long as I live I will keep it!”.
Agragag murmured a spell, and blue strands of energy came from his fingertips, finding the head of the creature on the floor. Agragag screamed, and the creature shrieked, twitching. Smook tried to break the spell but it was too strong. Once attached it would be hard to release it. Then, the strands became yellow, and a bright orange. Agragag collapsed and the being on the floor stopped its terrible twitch. Smook stood there, quietly, in shock. He was not sure what he just had witnessed but it sure was not a good thing. Then the creature on the floor moved, almost graciously, and stood up. It walked towards Smook and stood still. Smook looked at the creature. It was, well, it was hard to describe what it exactly was. It was neither a he nor a she. Its features were feminine, but it had the body of a man. It was...beautiful.
“What is the problem, my dear Smook?” it said, the words almost singing. “Do you not find me beautiful? This body will last for eternity, and it will never age. I shall have only know joy from now on, and pleasure…”.
Agragag, for it was the mind of Agragag that was captured in this body, came closer to Smook, so close, their lips touching. It became a fiery kiss, passionate and magically. Smook wanted to turn away but he could not. This beauty…it was irresistible. But then the being changed, and it started to laugh evilly.
“Yes, I shall know joy, once I rid the lands of Men! Men only destroy, and disturb my peace! Like you…” and Agragag screamed while biting Smook in his left ear. Smook, grabbed a strange looking dagger that was hanging on the wall and stabbed Agragag in the heart. The blade lighted up with a strange orange glow, as Agragag screamed and his strength was drained by the dagger. “Nooo,” Agragag screamed, “I shall not die!” He collapsed, and Smook said “There can only be on of us in this forest”.
Smook left the house and returned to his own house. He examined the dagger and the essence that it had absorbed. The power that it held…it was dangerous. Agragag had said he would not die, and while his body obviously had died, perhaps his spirit had not. This blade, it could restore him to his self. Some spell needed to be placed on it so that Agragag could never get the dagger back. Something that would repel it but would be bound to the blade. A hilt perhaps…bound to the dagger, yet it should also be able to be taken away from the dagger, but never break. Smook thought long about what to do. The plains held rock and stone but little iron to make a hilt from. Then Smook looked up and decided to use a gem, which were plenty available in the desert. They were hard as stone and would endure for ever. He would make a key that could break the coupling between hilt and blade, because it would be needed to ever defeat the spirit. Yet as long as the dagger was whole, there was no way for Agragag to regain its body.
So it happened, and Smook created the dagger. He also made a key which he hid, while the dagger was kept close to him. Yet, unlike Agragag, Smook did grow old, and died in his sleep, the dagger only a foot away from him. Agragag could not sense the presence of the dagger while Smook lived, for a spell was cast to hid it from sight. Yet, when Smook died, it was lifted and Agragag, still weak and nothing more than scattered thoughts, had no way of reaching the dagger.
Time passed and the world changed.
Agragag’s spirit had grown, and was concentrated on one thing: regaining the dagger. He had located the dagger…oh yes, he had. Yet he had sensed how he was repelled by it, no way of closing in on it…he had however found other items of Smook, which held his power and his magic. A glass sword, a perfect round stone and a quartz chrystal. Yet these items seemed all useless and insignificant compared to the item he desired…
One day, a young man by the name of Iskadar ventured near the remains of Smook’s house. Iskadar was quite the adventurer, with a keen interest in things that once were. Yet instead of hiding in books, he went out to see the world and see the past in the present. He delved in the grounds to find artefacts of people in history. This is what he was doing when he found Smook’s dagger. He examined it closely, and saw strange markings on the black hilt, which held a green $ sign. The hilt was a large ruby, and the dagger felt as one but also separate. He put the dagger in a big bag, together with other treasures and travelled home.
Home was where his heart truly was, where his loving wife lived with their son. Even though he was often away, their bond was strong and their love endless. He returned merrily with his treasures and showed them proudly to his wife and son. They were amazed over the many things he had brought home this time. His son was especially fascinated with the strange dagger he had brought with him, and asked his father if he could have it. His father felt his son was a bit too young to keep a fairly sharp weapon. “I will keep this, my boy” he said, “until you are old enough. But no worries, I shall keep it safe.”
That night, Iskadar dreamt. He dreamt of a wraith, a ghost of the past, craving for the strange dagger he found. Yet he could not touch it…
The next day, Iskadar was working in the garden when he heard a voice in his head.
“Iskadar…”
He looked around, but saw no one.
“Iskadar…you have something that belongs to me”.
“I…I do?” Iskadar said.
“You hold my soul, Iskadar!”
“Your…your soul? How can I have your soul?”
But the voice remained quiet.
After regaining himself, Iskadar went on with removing dead plants from his garden.
Yet that night he dreamt again, about a wraith approaching him, and the desire the wraith had for the dagger and Iskadar’s death.
“Iskadar! You hold my soul! The dagger…I need it! I hate it! I want it!!”
“It is mine, not yours…I found it”, Iskadar replied. “I am not going to give it to you”.
“Your choice! But you will face the consequences!”
Iskadar woke up, sweaty, remembering his dream. Was it real? He wrote his dreams down in a journal, trying to find meaning to it later.
Then, his son got ill. Of course, children do get sicknesses, yet they often progress slowly and pass. But this disease, it was unlike that. It went fast, and was lethal. One week later, Iskadar and his wife were forced to burry their beloved son.
Then the dreams began again. The wraith, asking him to hand over the dagger. Iskadar, pained by the death of his son, refused him. Days went on like this, threats by the wraith and refusals from Iskadar. Yet, it remained dreams, and though they scared Iskadar, he could not find a way to influence his dreams and his answer to the wraith. He had tried, yelling and screaming, to get the wraith to talk to him during the day, when he was awake, but no answer came.
His neighbour came to visit him with bad
news. His wife was robbed, and was found dead just outside the town they lived.
No money, and three stabs in her heart. It broke Iskadar. His heart broke in two, and he felt that he had to
get as far away as possible from this place. Maybe his dreams would stop then, maybe the wraith wouldn’t find him then. He grabbed
some gear and his horse and left. He went, without caring as to where he went,
and found himself in a green land with grassy hills, near the
“Your master? I spit on your master! He destroyed me!”
“My master cares little for your life, nor of those around you. He cares only for what you possess.”
“If he wants it, he can come here and get it! I care little!”, Iskadar said, holding the dagger.
“He wont come, but I shall get it for him!” and the man lunged at him, grabbed the dagger that Iskadar was holding, and stabbed it in his chest. Then the man yelled ‘Master, I have it! Transport the body!”. The body moved but nothing happened. “The spell”, a voice said, “it will not let me! But we need that corpse, I cannot transport the dagger only! Hold the dagger, while I transport the corpse, our strength combined may do it”.
The man clutched the dagger, and he felt the tingling sensation that comes with transportation. But it started to burn, and his hands became fire, scorching him, devouring him. The man turned to dust, and Agragag screamed out of frustration. So close! He needed to find another way. Another being, willing to get him that dagger. Yes, that would be best…he would recruit one that might aid him in retrieving the dagger….