The Great Quest

Ulrog crept slowly from his hiding spot and made his way down to the river bank. What he saw there did much to lift his spirits. The three he was following had moored their boat, not much further down river than where he had been hiding. He could clearly see their tracks and could even detect their faint scent on the wind. He soon found another set of tracks and sniffed the ground there. The one on the horse had gone a different way, and it looked as though the wolf had gone with her. This was even better. That wolf had worried Ulrog. Mostly it seemed to be watching over the others and he had often worried about it knowing he was following.
Well now it looked as though his following of the three would continue. Even living in constant risk of being discovered was better than punishment at the hands of his master. Ulrog shuddered at the thought of that. Life in the mountains had been much better before the master had come along. His thoughts were interupted as something rustled in the grass near him. Ulrog quickly readied his bow and shot the small form which leapt past him. A rabbit. Grabbing his dinner he set off after the others.
Traveling swiftly through the night, stopping only occasionally for some raw rabbit or to get the scent of the three, Ulrog was able to catch sight of the fire, with a little of the night to spare. He saw the squat figure heading towards it and sniffed the air. A dwarf. Ulrog didn't like Dwarves much, and knew the feeling was mutual. He also knew they could see quite well in the dark. He saw the Dwarf challenged by the tall man and decided now was the best time to hide. He leaned foward, almost on all fours, and raced forward to take cover in some rocks nearby.

Gungar considered Slythre's offer. Some travelling companions might not be such a bad idea. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of some swift movement.

When Ayna woke, she saw five more dead orcs nearby. They had gotten so close, but had still been slain without her hearing a sound! She now felt nervous. Perhaps they hadn't been entirely taken in anyway.

Things were looking that way more and more. Both tonight and yesterday, orcs had attacked and been dispatched by her wolf companion . . . who was looking at her again right now.

She stood up, holding the cloak around herself, tightly. She looked down at the wolf, and then began collecting her things and saddling her horse. Strangely enough, her horse showed no concern at the presence of the wolf, and she puzzled at that for a moment. After a while, she shrugged and walked over to search the bodies. She found no identification on them, but that merely showed that whoever sent them didn't want to be identified. It probably was who she feared it was.

"This is the second time you've saved my life," she said to the wolf.

Then, she put her foot in the stirrup and swung up onto her horse, proceeding deeper into the woods.

The wolf was still looking at her as it loped easily alongside. But she caught something unusual in its eyes. Curiosity? It couldn't be. This was merely an animal. A smart animal, for certain, but it couldn't understand what she said. Could it? Eagles were intelligent, and wolves were also known to be. They were mainly evil creatures, even having their own language. Just because this one wasn't evil didn't mean it wasn't intelligent. And those travelers wouldn't have sent a creature with her which couldn't think for itself.

"Who or what are you?" she wondered out loud, looking down at the wolf.

The wolfs jaws gaped wide, and Anyas eyes crinkled as she realized it was laughing. She stared at it some more, and then it was the one to turn its head away, vanishing once more into the woods - but she could still feel it there.
Shaking her head in wonder, she continued on.

Meanwhile, Harnauro kept alongside her, though out of sight both to her and anyone watching. ::Who am I... what am I...:: The questions echoed through his thoughts again and again, and the only answers he found were bitter and self mocking.

As Gungar spun about, peering into the darkness, the others tightened grips on weapons.

The dwarf looked intently into the darkness, and mutters, "By Dain, I swear I saw something!"

Mal exhanged glances with Faradin, and then the two moved out, encircling the area the dwarf peered at, and keeping their weapons ready as they, too, looked into the darkness, wondering what they would find...

Elrov rode slowly out of the trees, and up the top of the hill. He looked more closely at the place, which should be full of life and activity, and cautiously rode a little bit closer.

Something was not right. He could sense that immediately, and drew a long sword from its scabbard, approaching cautiously, and scanning the territory around for movement. Suddenly, he came to a halt, and stared at the body of the dead woman lying on the ground. The woman had a light green dress on, and an empty water bucket was lying on the ground beside her. A slash wound had opened her back, and the blood was dry.

Elrov's face was filled with horror, and he swung off his horse, quickly tying it to a tree and running up the hill, past the body. He ran past several trees and large boulders, finding two more bodies on his way. When he reached the top, he stopped and stared. Dozens of bodies lay on the ground, all dead and mostly unarmed. No enemy bodies anywhere in sight. This had been a massacre.

"Is anyone here?" he said nervously. Soon, he was running from dwelling place to dwelling, shouting out the names of people he knew, and calling for any of them.

"Emroy! Naras! Tenrile, Ayna, Ildras! Someone!" He fell to his knees. "Anyone!" The sword dropped to the ground and he buried his face in his hands, weeping bitterly.

*Please delete this post, it was another of my repetition mistakes.*

Ayna stopped only once that day, and Harnauro could tell that she had picked up speed, moving faster now then before. A worried frown had creased her brow, and although she still seemed nervous, it now was for a different reason.

When she finally left the woods entirely, she sped up even quicker, galloping quickly across the plain towards the hill in front of her.

Harnauro didn't like to come into the open, but had to if he would keep up with her. With only brief hesitation, he stepped into the sunlight, and then ran after her, quickly catching up with her and riding alongside, his eyes scanning the brush quickly for signs of enemy.

As soon as they reached the edge of the hill, Ayna stopped, staring at a horse, tied to a tree. "Elrov?" she asked hesitantly.

Harnauro bounded ahead, becoming invisible among the trees and boulders, moving swiftly and keeping an eye out for attackers.

Ayna quickly rode after him, riding swiftly up the side of the hill.

Then, Elrov appeared at its edge, holding his sword in one hand. "Ayna!" he cried, lowering the weapon and racing down towards her. "Thank the Great Lord Eru at least one of you is safe!"

"What do you mean?" she asked as she dismounted.

He wrapped her in a strong embrace, his shoulders shaking with sobs of both relief and sorrow.

Slythre smiled as she crept through the undergrowth. She was in her element, practically invisible and impossible to hear. The other two were cutting him off, being very competent hunters and trackers. But she had had been personally trained by Lord Unvar of the corsairs for this, and this spy would never know what hit him.

And indeed, he didn't, when the knife jammed between his shoulders, and he dropped with a grunt to the ground.

The others soon joined her as they brought him back to the campfire.

"Did you kill him?" Faradin asked.

"No, I was careful." She made a face. "Even though it would have been a pleasure to do so, I do have some patience. He won't be able to move for at least tomorrow, and will be in a good deal of pain when ever he tries to. We might be able to get some information out of him."

Lord Thaldsan paced the ground, his hands twitching from behind his back. "So they have no real leader who owns the valley?" he asked.

"No," this visiter of Ethrilien answered. "But I think they will resist if someone attempted to take the valley from them. They do no harm to any, and live a quiet existance of their own back there. I think that they should be let be."

"Your opinions, you'd be wise to keep to yourself, Evron. These elves are suspected of being in league with Dania and Narsh, the two elvish traitors."

"They can hardly be called traitors when they never swore alliegence to us," Evron responded boldly. "What proof do we have that they even are our enemies?"

"They have been arrested by order of the king," Thaldsan said. "It is my duty to see that the law of his majesty is done. I look after his safety, and that of all Gondor."

"As do I."

"Enemies of his majesty are those who would harm that safety, do you not agree, Evron? The king was given the report by a loyal source, and has acted upon it. Whatever your personal opinions are, they must fall aside when confronted with your duty to the crown."

Evron felt defeat, and looked at the floor. "Yes, my lord."

"Return to your position as captain of the outer guards. Make sure that these two prisoners are delivered safely."

"Yes, my lord," Evron said with a small bow, before leaving the hall.

"You handled that well," came a voice from behind him that sent shivers down his spine. "Now let us see if you can handle the rest of these politics equally well. I can always find another to take your place, if you show signs of wavering."

"I will stand firm, my master," Thaldsan said, staring straight ahead.

"Be sure that you do, Thaldsan," a threat in the voice.

Lord Thaldsan turned, but there was nothing there. He shivered and left the hall. He was growing to fear being alone and in the dark more and more lately. He wished he had never made this alliance, but it was too late to turn back now. Far too late.

As they returned to the campsight, with the captive orc unconscious in tow, Gungar watched their approach with a distasteful look upon his face, as he saw the orc.

Mal walked up to him, and said, "You are free to share our fire and camp for the rest of the night - tommorow we shall head out, and you can then decide whether you wish to join us or not. We would certainly welcome the company of another stalwart soul on our way."


As Gungar considered the offer, Mal settled back down to sleep, letting the others settle with making sure the orc was safely kept from escaping. He had an odd feeling, and was much more worried than he let on.

Slythre woke up and climbed out of bed, to find the campfire had been started again, and some freshly caught meat was roasting over it.

She walked over to their captive orc and squatted down beside him, turning him over and inspecting the fowl creature's back. The blood was dried and the bandages needed to be changed, but her knife appeared to have hit directly on target. She pressed her fingers against certain parts of his back, and he groaned at the touch.

She nodded. "You'll be fine in a few days, unless we decide to kill you before then."

Standing, she walked over to the campfire that Gungar had going, and looked down at the dwarf. "That smells excellent. Where did you catch it?"

"In the undergrowth, earlier this morning. The ranger went with me part of the way, but he broke off from the rest of the group. I think he's scouting."

"Good, we're going to need to avoid enemies as much as we can."

Mal got up from his resting place and, after brushing leaves out of his hair, walked over to join them. "So, have you decided whether or not to stay with us?"

"I think that I will, at least for a while," Gungar said. "Although I would like to fight orcs and you're avoiding them, now that I've heard your goal, it seems we'll have some battle after all. And I couldn't do much harm to any of these villains on my own," he added with a contemptuous kick at the orc.

"It'll be good to have you."

"The food's done," Gungar said as he pulled it off the sharpened stick. "Take your fill, and then let's be on our way."

Soon, they were underway again, riding quickly through the undergrowth in pursuit of their quarry.

Narsh looked up and winced in pain from the wound to his forhead. He felt a bandage pressing against his head, but he didn't have any feeling in his arms or legs.

Dania stirred beside him, and he quickly looked over at her. She was bound just as he was, ropes binding her arms together behind her back, and more cords fastening them close to her. Her legs also were tied together, and there was a long sheet of rough cloth covering them both. From the bouncing and rolling motion, Narsh soon discovered that they were in a wagon, moving at a rapid pace towards an unknown destination.

There was a jolt through the wagon as it bounced up, and then the going became more smooth. They had gone onto a road, apparently.

Why were we even captured at all? Narsh wondered. Why didn't they just kill us and have done with it? Are we to be used as bait to bring in the others?

Horrible memories shot through his head, of their capture and desperate fight for safety. Of Faradin fighting three at once, and finally stabbed through by a sword.

Rage filled Narsh, and his arms went taut in a vain struggle against his bonds. "We aren't finished yet," he promised himself.

Ulrog's whole body hurt. The pain in his back was the worest, and movement was difficult, not only because of the ropes binding him. The woman had struck well with her knife. He had never heard her coming. But why hadn't he been killed? His wounds had been bandaged and the only real mistreatment he had received was a kick in the guts from that blasted dwarf. Ulrog snarled. He would repay that debt if he got the chance.
Ulrog's hate quickly turned to fear as he wondered what they would do to him. But whatever it was it couldn't be any worse than what the master would do to him for his failure. He had heard them talking earlier and had been able to understand only a little, but it looked as though they intended to keep him alive for now. He groaned in pain, as the horse he had been slung over moved into rough terrain.
Even through the pain of his wounds and the cursed light of the sun Ulrog's keen sense of smell was still working. Now that he was closer to the group he had noticed something a little different about their scent. It was barely there, but that didn't stop Ulrog detecting it, and it terrified him. He decided he would try to escape, first chance he got.

Narsh was jolted awake by a spear butt jabbing his ribs. The cover of the wagon had been pulled back, and he saw around him what looked like a palace. There were several guards, and surprisingly enough there were no orcs among them.

He was hoisted to his feet by two soldiers, and untied. Then, he was led into forward, past the palace and into through a lower door.

Narsh attempted to twist his head around to see if Dania was with him, but earned a slap in the face for his trouble.

A door creaked open and a moment later he was thrown forward into an empty cell. The door was slammed shut behind him, and Narsh heard the jailor fumbling with his keys.

Realizing that they'd separated him from Dania, he gave a cry and leapt at the unlocked door, slamming it open, the edge of it catching the jailor in the face and sending him spinning.

The two soldiers had been walking away down the corridor, but on seeing him, they turned and charged. Quickly, Narsh leapt over the fallen jailor and ran down the other passage. It was a few seconds later that he ran into another jailor, this one armed with a club. Narsh ducked under the swinging weapon and came up underneath, tackling the jailor to the ground, his hands tearing the club from the jailor's grasp.

But just then, the hilt of a sword smacked downwards from behind him, and everything went black.

Dania looked around at the room she'd been put in. It was a nicer chamber than she'd expected to have. She wasn't tied, and there was a reasonable amount of furniture, all relatively comfortable. Light came into the room through a glass window, keeping the room from the gloom that pervaded the rest of the place.

Better yet, they'd not searched her, and she was still armed with a dagger. She thought this rather odd, but accepted this as good fortune.

She whirled around as the bolts in the door were withdrawn, and it swung open. Her hand automatically reached towards the hilt of the dagger, but after a moment, she purposely shifted it away. Best to keep that a secret to reveal at her own time and place.

A figure cloaked and hooded in black stepped into the room. Fastening his cloak was a clasp of even deeper dark, which seemed to suck the light from the room. Beneath the hood she could see a pale face, with cold gray eyes. A horrible smile twisted itself on those lips, and he stepped forward.

"A pleasure to meet you at last, Dania," he said in a voice that sent shivers down her spine. "I have long awaited this meeting, as I'm sure you know."

"Who are you?" she asked, wishing her voice didn't quiver so much as she did.

His smile widened. "Ah yes, you still don't know whose been hunting you all this time."

She frowned. "All this time? I didn't have any idea that I was being hunted until just a moment ago."

His smile vanished. "Oh, yes you did. And I seriously dislike people who lie to me."

She decided it would be best not to pursue that matter, and changed the topic of conversation. "You were going to tell me who you are?"

"No, we are here to discuss you, and your decisions rather than mine. And the conversation from here on will be of a much more pleasant kind if you answer my questions truthfully."

Our enemy is, Darth Siduis, NNNNNOOOOO!!!!!

Ok I actually have nothing of worth to post right now.*

*Shucks. Actually, Darth Sidious is pretty close to this guy's appearance. Black robe and cowl is standard fantasy bad guy garb.*

*Oops. Messed up in my last post. No horses. Not sure where you guys want to go with this, but here we go.*

-----------------------------------------------------

They had stopped for a brief rest. Ulrog was glad of it. This forced march in the bright sunlight was exausting him, and movement was still painful. He was hungry too. His captors didn't pay him much attention beyond guarding him and Ulrog was glad of that as well. He still hadn't been able to work out exactly what it was about them that he suddenly found so disturbing, but it was still there, and all his instincts told him to get as far away from that scent as possible.

Night would be the best time to try and escape. He wouldn't last long in this land during the weakening light of day, especially with his arms bound.

Ulrog's thoughts of escape were interupted by his captors, some of whom were quickly getting to their feet. Their attention was on a small clump of dead trees in the near distance. Slowly, ragged feral looking shapes were emerging from the long shadows cast by the trees. Ulrog squinted to see them better.
Wolves. They looked hungry too. The woman turned and gave him a nasty look.
"Friends of yours?", she said.
"Nah. Don't mix with wolves", Ulrog replied, but then he realised that she hadn't really wanted a reply. The wolves began to close in.

Faradin cursed under his breath as the wolves slowly aproached the camp. The only good thing was that these were not the huge Wargs that sometimes accompanied orcs.
He drew his bow and notched an arrow and then began to issue orders. "Draw close together, facing outward, but not so close that you'll hamper each other's movements."

Just as he had finished speaking a wolf to his left leapt, Faradin spun, drew his arrow to his cheek and let fly in one smooth motion. The wolf died with an arrow in it's throat and one of Slythre's dagger sticking out of one eye. The rest of the wolves hesitated an instant as they saw the first one fall and then attacked. Dropping his bow Faradin drew his sword and prepared himself.

Slythre ducked sideways, avoiding a wolf and seizing her dagger back. That had been too close. Again, she wished she had more weapons on her, but the knife was her only weapon.

Suddenly they heard the thundering of hooves, and a rider galloped out of the trees with for men at arms behind him. Drawing their swords, they joined the company, making short work of the wolves and soon making their survivors flee into the woods.

Their leader dismounted and walked over to Faradin. "I presume you are the leader of this party?"

"No, our leader is right there," the ranger said, pointing at Mal.

The man recovered from his surprise quickly and walked over to him. "My name is Evron, captain of the guards on the outskirts. You are on the very edge of my territory, so you're lucky we heard you at all. So what is your business in Rohan?"



Urlog sawed viciously at his bonds with an arrowhead he'd extracted from one of the warg bodies. In a moment he was free, and ducked away into the woods.