It was dark inside the tent. A man sat behind a simple desk, studying the maps spread over the surface. Colonel lapels decorated his blouse collar. A big mug of extra strong coffee sat nearby, now cold. The man looked tired, but ready for anything. There was a flutter as the tent flaps opened and closed. The man looked up to see a soldier silently appraising him.

The trooper was dressed all in black, a balaclava scrunched down around his neck instead of covering his face, like usual. He had old and worn web gear carrying odd things, including a custom made bandolier, filled with fifty caliber rounds, attached to the pistol belt. Each round was different colored. The Colonel knew that the trooper also had an ass pack filled with magazines for the Barrette M-95 .50 caliber anti-material rifle strapped across his back. The weight never seemed to bother him.

"Scout, I need you to do another recon, in area thirty-four delta," the Colonel ordered, a cold sweat forming on his brow. The other man nodded before he spoke.

"Understood." Sharp canines flashed in the lantern light. The black eyes appraised the Colonel for another couple of seconds before the being left the tent. The Colonel shuddered. Damn Vampires, he thought. Those dead eyes always gave him the willies. Oh, well. At least I never have to look on him again. The Colonel returned to the maps.

Outside, the half-vampire paused in the misty night. So it would be now. He carefully drew his cowl over his face, wrapping the ragged remains of the cloak around him. He looked around, his eyes missing nothing in the night. His eyes flashed a startling gold before he moved on into the night. Less than ten minutes later, they had surrounded him.

The soldiers he had helped, his comrades, had now betrayed him. It had happened before, and would happen again. The other soldiers brought their rifles to their shoulders. The half-blood simply smiled when the first pulled the trigger. Send me someplace I am needed, my lord, he thought sadly.

When his eyes opened again, he was bathed in sunlight. "Ow," he stated, ignoring the lightheadedness he felt. He pulled up the balaclava, instantly feeling relief as the sun was no longer touching his skin. He checked his rifle, making sure that the scope wasn't broken from his falling on it.

Once he was sure nothing was damaged, he looked up and appraised his surroundings. He seemed to be in the middle of a town or village, and the architecture looked oddly familiar. He reached out with his heightened senses, searching for a heartbeat. There, to his left! He moved silently through the paths, watching the trees carefully, and feeling behind walls and doors. No one.

He neared the heart, preparing for anything. It was just behind closed and locked doors. But his own heart fell in disappointment. The heart barely reached his waist, and so was a child. But then he paused in the middle of turning away. The heart was beating too slow for a child!

What is this, land of the midgets? he asked himself skeptically. But the architecture around him appeared to big for that. He silently scaled the tree next to him, and jumped from it into another tree on the other side of the wall. He peered through the branches and saw a council of some sort surrounding a pedestal with a ring placed on it. Weird. Deja-vu. A man got up and approached the ring when a voice rent the air.


He recognized the words. From The Lord of the Rings. The black speech circling the One Ring. But what he did not recognize was the awesome need to rent, kill, and tear all that stood in his path. He barely suppressed it.

The figures below soon got into the argument as to who would bear the ring. The hobbit, Frodo son of Drogo, volunteered. So it was the hobbit Sam I noticed, and that's why the heart felt wrong. Gandalf the Grey, Aragorn son of Arathorn, Boromir son of Denethor, Legolas Greenleaf of the Mirkwood Elves, the dwarf Gimli son of Gloin. And the hobbits: Sam, Merry, and Pippin. He was viewing the Council, the one that decided the Fellowship. Interesting. It was not the first time he was transported off the Earth. Having to face the creatures from the movie Aliens was quite the shock.

The half-vampire was so engrossed in his thoughts he did not notice that Legolas suddenly tensed up.

Legolas Greenleaf was wondering why the threat of the Cursed Tongue was still lingering in the air when he realized with a shock that it was a new threat. His eyes scanned the trees around the Council, finally resting on a figure concealed in the branches. A figure all in black.

"Intruder!" he snapped, bringing his Mirkwood bow up faster than most could see. He quickly released an arrow, but to his dismay, the figure dropped, the arrow embedding in the tree behind him. The man rolled onto his feet after falling the fifteen feet to the ground with grace that surprised the elf. Legolas fired another shot, but the intruder sent the arrow into the air after hitting it- with his bare hand!

Everyone had frozen; those with weapons had them in their hands, the ones without already backed away. Elven guards ran along the wall until the creature was surrounded. He looked around, his emotions covered by a face mask, and his eyes covered by a glass-like eye shield that only he could see out of, evidently.

Perfect, the half vampire thought irritably. Already caught by a bunch of pissed off elves. He slowly shrugged off his rifle, laying it on the ground carefully. He unsheathed his silver plated Ka-bar, and laid it next to the rifle. After that, the ammo also joined the pile. Then he stepped back. "Listen, I didn't know where the hell I was a couple of seconds ago, and had I known, I wouldn't have-"

"Silence, creature of shadow!" Boromir snapped. He was one of the guys with a sword. As did Aragorn. There was a twang, and the vamp didn't have enough time to block or dodge. So he did the next best thing. Everyone gasped as Legolas' arrow punched into the creature's forearm. He only stared at it in shock before pulling it out in annoyance.

"Gandalf, can we please talk before the elves turn me into a pincushion?" the creature sighed in frustration.

"No need," the wizard said with a laugh. "Everyone, this man will be our tenth member."

Everyone, including the man dressed in black, looked at him in shock. "Okay, but ain't we being a little sexist? How come there is no female walker?" the dark man snapped. Gandalf chuckled again.

"My, my," he said softly. "Aren't we growing?" The dark man lifted the goggles from his eyes. They were completely black, and dead looking. "Alright, let me introduce Elenloth, lady warrior of the Galadhrim." All turned and watched as the doors opened.

The elf woman who stepped through the doors was annoyed. She had come to Rivendell to visit her mother. Now she was to participate in a quest at the request of Gandalf. She cursed in elvish. The men were mortal, the hobbits were cute but annoying, the dwarf was smelly, and she knew Legolas as a teaser from childhood. But then her eyes came across a stranger.

His eyes were jet black, but when they came across her, they flashed a sudden, brilliant gold. He looked away, and when their eyes met again, they were black again. "A half-vampire," she hissed, only just heard by those closest to her. But the whispers slipped through the crowd. "What is your name, fiend?" she snapped.

Streaks of gold colored his eyes briefly. "I am known in the elven tongue of Sindarin as Durandir."

"The dark wanderer," she stated quietly. He clenched his hand over his heart, then touched his forehead with his fingertips before bowing.