Sunlight broke through the trees casting a dappled light upon the fair elven ground of the realm with the given name of The Riven of Dell, very much in the way deigned by the Valar since the beginning of the world named Arda when riding in a situation like this at this particular time of day.

A young maiden named Rodwen, not at all unpleasant to look upon rode in the direction of forward upon her spirited mare, hooves pounding upon the solid ground sounding not unlike that of the ill fated charge of the great Elven-King Fingolfin and his equally great steed, Rochellor of The Weak Heart

Though not unpleasant in appearance, this maiden was not pleasant in personality, thus defying the discriminatory notions of associating goodness with beauty and evil with ugliness

Pushing her horse in the direction of forward with her slender human thighs, the a forenamed Rodwen of the longevity blessed race of Dunedain turned her fair human head, crowned with the colour of jet this way and that, for the lands of the world named Arda were not at all safe for the beings named The Children of Illuvatar ever since Morgoth's servant, Sauron, of the chosen occupation of evil had decided the time was ripe for another stab at his ultimate fantasy based dream, that of world domination.

Very suddenly, the caution of the human maiden named Rodwen seemed very justified for two shadowy figures blocked the path, their screams rent through the air not unlike that of a sharp shining sword slicing through warm butter on a cool summers eve.

Startled by this unexpected interruption of a pleasant noon ride, the maiden's horse went in the direction of up, whilst she went in the direction of down, landing upon the earth with a thud-like sound of one who falls a significant distance from the ground.

Rodwen used her legs to elevate herself to a more suitable position for gaining a sufficient eye line with what she now realised was a young girl of the age of teen, hailing from a location unknown.

“Who art thou that stumbleth onto this path unbidden, in the fair elven valley known as Imladris, ruled over by the renowned half elven warrior The Lord of Elrond? Art thou in need of aid?” As aforementioned, Rodwen, though blessed in fairness, was not blessed of a pleasant personalty, thus she surveyed the young girls as one would a pile of manure that falls from the backside of the great and useful race of Horse.

Rodwen's eyes were immediately drawn to the young girl who was standing in the direction of left, for this girl had hair of such a bright shade of the colour of red and eyes the colour of green that Rodwen felt her eyes burn in indiganation at being subjected to looking upon such an abomination of Eru.

The girls were wearing garments as of yet unknown to Rodwen, and not at all what one hailing from Arda would call appropriate dress for one not of the occupation of Prostitute.

“Lord Elrond? You're kidding right, Lord Elrond is a fictional character!” Quoth the companion of the girl with hair of red and eyes of green.

“I can assure you, The Lord Elrond is most certainly not a fiction based character, and you are currently standing upon the earth of the elven valley of the Riven of Dell” Replied Rodwen, puzzlement increasing by the moment. Upon seeing the sincerity and thruthfulness of Rodwen's statement, the girls exchanged looks loaded with the emotion that only be described as terror.

“So… Lord Elrond really is a real person; we really are on the borders of Rivendell. Holy crap! Are we in Middle-earth?” The girls voice trembleth in fear as she spake her words.

“Ai, thou art indeed in The Earth of Middle wherein all living things dwelleth together,” Again replied Rodwen.

Exchanging terror filled looks, the girls fell in the direction of down in what appeared to be the condition of faint.