Written circa 2004, I think.
The following is an approximate translation of an unfinished Elvish saga recently discovered in the Ütterbad Forest. It bears the typical hallmarks of the Elven mission-report style, and the site at which the dig took place had the characteristics of an Elvish campsite. Beyond the standard form letter denying its authenticity, the ever reclusive Elvish Nation has made no comment on the find.
Peladron Moonlight-through-Raindrops, son of Gildennis Dwarf-tosser, was the first to fall.
In this six hundred and eighth year of joyous and peaceful reign of our dear Queen, it befell me to lead four noble fellows from the city of our fathers and mothers into the sylvan unknown of the uncharted north. Grave common purpose uniting our steadfast hearts, we left the beloved fastnesses of our homeland, riding forth on our steeds, forged by unbreakable oath into one: the Fellowship of the Cartographic Survey.
Three moons waxed and waned to our progress, as documented elsewhere in Geographical Sagas I-XVII, and supplementary documents I–XI, XIV–XX, and XXV–LXI. Our very souls flamed with the unquenchable fire of our quest, our actions unswerving and undeniable in its pursuance, except as documented in the disciplinary reports in supplementary documents XII, XIII, XXI–XXIV and LXII–LXX.
Three nights past the shortest night, we rested beneath the boughs of the noble oak. As I laid my head to sleep, light-footed came the approach of the fair Tatianna Thorn-of-the-Rose, Theodolitrix of our Fellowship, she of the soft silver hair and softer word.
"Raindrop's off again," said she. "The silly bastard's probably buggering sheep again."
Peladron Moonlight-through-Raindrops, woodsman without peer, led our company with all his skill and unflagging good cheer through this foreign land, over hill and through valley. Through mud, and brambles, and nigh-unfordable river. Over steep, jagged rock and into barely passable thickets...and through fields, also, of sheep. His merry voice, raised in song, was a constant companion — awakening great feelings within us all, especially the gentle Tatianna. (See supplementary document XIII, and attached medical claim sonnet.)
Knowing our good-natured guide's dedication, which oft led him far afield to survey the land before us — especially those parts that sheep might be found upon — I was not alarmed. His absence seemed of no great import.
O, the calamities that rise from such tiny-seeming seedlings!
We came upon him two days later, wandering aimlessly in the woods. Upon his head he wore a strange, pointed hat of striking green, which tinkled with tiny bells at his every movement. His bow and pack were missing, and it seemed that he had spent the intervening time carving crude wooden globes and hanging them from the noble branches of the trees around him. No word could he be persuaded to speak. Still were my full suspicions not aroused, as I believed him to be under the influence of certain berries generally known for their powerful 'medicinal' properties.
Gracious Tatianna of the sweet tongue pronounced him, "So bent, he finally snapped."
Peladron came along with us perfectly willingly, although he had to be led by the arm so as to prevent him resuming his aimless drifting. I recall perfectly his vague smile, and the vacant blankness of his once-bright eyes, its true horror not yet apparent to us.
It was not until nightfall that he showed any sign of life, becoming increasingly agitated as darkness fell. Still we thought little of it, even as he huddled close enough to our little campfire that his hair began to smoulder, darting frightened glances into the woods.
That night seemed to pass without incident, but when morn set the colour back to the graceful trees around us, we found that during the hours of dark, the horses had somehow silently escaped. Amid much dismay, we attempted to search for them, but were unsuccessful, and continued on foot.
That night, Peladron again huddled in fear. As fair Tatianna was attending private business behind nearby bushes, a sudden scream of fright from her musical lips brought us all to our feet in startlement.
Cedrogel Mighty-of-Thews, strongest of warriors, drew his great broadsword, crying aloud to our companion. "What ails thee, maiden?" he uttered, mighty voice roaring as gravel on a river bed. "Is it a spider?" Flourishing his sword mightily at the ground, he attempted to climb a noble sapling one-handed.
Pale of face and trembling of limb, Tatianna entered our circle of firelight with great haste, flinging herself to the ground by the wretch Peladron. "It was a deer!" she cried, voice thin with fright.
"A deer?" Cedrogel dropped to the ground, already reaching to sheathe his weapon. "A deer? Is that all?"
"It was a vast black buck!" the affrighted Tatianna called wrathfully. "It had a great sorcerous eye!"
Cedrogel turned to me, brows darkened with wrath. "I thought you hid the medical alcohol, Wheatfields?" (See supplementary document XXIII.)
"I swear it! A great lidless eye of blood-coloured fire, right here on its face!" With one elegant finger pressed to the tip of her nose, Tatianna stared at us, trembling.
A search of the woods and medical supplies revealed nothing amiss, but I think none of us slept easy, and tempers were short in the morning, when Tatianna refused to travel any further in these unknown woods.
"I'm not going another step," she vowed. "Something evil dwells here! And if Raindrop was a halfwit before, now he has none. We have to turn back!" Fair features darkened with an unshakeable frown, she clung to Peladron's arm.
Cedrogel was loath to abandon our sworn quest in such a manner. "You're the only one who's seen anything," said he. "Things in the dark that nobody else saw. Just like a woman!"
Soft-spoken Tatianna, whose very sighs are poetry, said, "You're a misogynist bastard who ruts with pigs," and a great deal else besides. "It had a fiery sorcerous eye!"
Mindful of the perils of companion turned against companion, I suggested that we keep camp and renew our stock of healing herbs, to see if we could minister to the unfortunate Peladron before making any decision to continue or return. Again, nightfall saw us gathered around the fire, a new tense watchfulness holding us in its grip. The long hours drew on, and sleep took us all fitfully.
A few hours before dawn saw myself and Cedrogel the only ones awake. As I watched over the sleeping forms of our companions — Peladron's sad huddle, the peerless Tatianna's graceful slumber, and the crumpled heap of Gilberd Singing-of-Crickets, a man of few passions save for interesting strata — Cedrogel spoke to me, softly and formally, face drawn in the firelight.
"Quiet-River-through-Wheatfields, sir," said he, "a thing or things are out there, out of sight among the dark trees. They have been circling the camp for hours."
"In the morn, we turn for home," I replied quietly.
Alas! In the hours before light, sleep took me, and when the sun woke us, Cedrogel was gone. A brief search revealed him slumped beneath a supple willow upon the bank of a nearby brook, naked and staring mindlessly, drooling as he used one of his prized fighting knives to whittle the crude likeness of a duck from a piece of wood. On his head was a jingling, bell-strewn hat of green.
At the sight of him, Tatianna wept. "This is an evil place! We have to leave!"
We tried our best, but it proved impossible to persuade Cedrogel to rise to his feet for more than a few steps in any direction before he sank listlessly to the ground again.
"We must not divide the Fellowship!" I maintained, and though I curse myself, what else could I have done? "We cannot leave them!"
So it was that we remained in this terrible place for another night. We huddled against the fire again, for the protection it offered; but it availed us nothing. In the darkest hour they advanced upon us from the forest's depths, the light of the flames serving only to render them more horrible — blank-eyed, mindless, yet directed by a terrible purpose that was not their own, jingling merrily with little bells. Gilberd could stand no more and fled, moaning, into the dark.
"Don't be a fool!" Tatianna screamed after him. "Our only hope is to stick together!"
I caught her arm. "There are hundreds of them! We must stick together, yes — but we must flee too!"
"Peladron — " she began despairingly, then broke off with a wail as he lurched at us through the campfire, his breeches set alight, face slack and unfeeling.
We ran into the woods.
Agile Tatianna outpaced me, even half-blinded by sobbing. I followed as best I could, trying to keep her mane of silver hair in sight through the shadowed forest. Even after terrified exhaustion slowed me to a stagger, I pushed on until dawn broke, then wandered the forest, calling for my companions.
I found her in a clearing, kneeling on the ground, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. "Thorn-of-the-Rose," I called in broken relief, shuffling to her and falling to my knees. "Tatianna?"
She lifted her head slowly, revealing a strangely composed face beneath her mask of dried tears and splashes of mud. Gazing past me, she lifted one hand slightly, and I saw that clutched in it was a small carpenters' hammer.
She let it fall listlessly upon a rounded stone before her, and I stared with dawning horror at her lifeless eyes.
"Tatianna?"
She paid me no heed, even when I shook her shoulder. Feeling tears fill my own eyes, I turned away helplessly, unable to look upon her ruin.
The hammer fell on the stone again, and her voice behind me said in a quiet, vacant sing-song, "We must make toys for the children!"
I wept, beating the earth with my fists, as the tinny chime of hammer on stone kept irregular counterpoint.
Already, the light is fading. I fear I am not long for this world, and I doubt these words will ever be read — but if they are: save yourselves. Flee this evil place at once, or share our doom.
I have seen the vacant smiles on the faces of those enslaved souls, and seen the great shadow of their terrible master. I have heard the "Ho, ho," of his demonic laughter on the wind. I sit in numb acceptance, huddled for warmth and comfort against Tatianna's oblivious flank. My fate is sealed.
Already I hear the merry jingle of bells amidst the trees.