Fangorn Forest

Suddenly, another group of orcs blocked their way. Narsh cut the foremost down, but he was losing blood, and it was having an effect on his fighting ability.

Faradin laid Slythre on a pile of rocks, behind him so that he could join into the fight. Quickly, he slashed away three of the orcs that were attacking Narsh and Dania, and then he attacked again, pushing the others back. But these were stronger, and soon the group was pinned backwards between two stone walls. There was a staircase leading up the wall, but orcs were charging down from it already, sealing the trap.

Four orcs were fighting Faradin at once. He smashed one of their blades, cut the arm off of another, took a step back and braced to fight again. The remaining three charged him, screaming war cries. He cut the head off of one, stabbed deep into the chest of another, and felt his sword get entangled in the chain mail armor of the creature. He pulled, but it was stuck. The remaining orc raised it's blade, triumph in it's eye. Then, it's eyes glazed over as it was split in two by a vicious blow from behind. The two halves of the body toppled and Unvar stepped out from behind it.

"I thought that our paths would cross again, ranger," he said as his men slashed away the orcs and men who surrounded the group. "You fight well, but I would expect no less of a Numenorean." He turned his piercing gaze on Mal. "And you surprise me more and more with each meeting. I thought you'd been killed once and for all in Isengard. But apparently accomplishing a feet such as your death would be an impressive one indeed."

"My lord!" A captain dashed up to Unvar. "My lord, the castle has fallen! Your troops occupy every part of it except for the very inner areas."

"Good. Take those, and search the dungeons as well. If Slythre is found, have her brought to me."

"My lord." Then he bowed his head and hurried back to the troops.

Nardran's heart had taken a cold strength, and he felt as if he were afire in his rage. No more was the humble elf captain, ready to do his master's will and cringe before his wrath. He had taken on a personal quest, an obsession that he knew would lead him to his death. But if that was to be, than so be it. Just as long as he would get the chance to stand over his former master, and be the one to snuff the life from it's evil body.

He looked up the passage as orcs issued from the inner recesses of the castle, and as it drew upon it's last reserves. They could put up a good fight, and could hold off Unvar's forces for at least a week. But they wouldn't, Nardran would see to that. Quickly, he and his band moved forward. Nardran drew his silver sword from it's black sheath with a metallic ring. Swiftly, he and his men moved forward. They could hear the shouts and cries of battle as Unvar's army met their foes. The inner archer holes would be the destruction of them. There was a dark courtyard with an underground door that lead in. On his side of the walls were arrow slits, so that arrows could be shot out, to pick off the attackers before they got close. The darkness would enable the orcs to do this without any substantial return fire.

Nardran gave the signal, an elven battle cry, and his band leapt from their hidden positions upon their enemies. The archers were cut down quickly and efficiently. Quickly gathering his force, he led them up.

"Now!" he cried, and his force leapt up, hitting the orcs and soldiers from the back. Just then, Unvar's force attacked from the front, and soon, between the two groups, the last of the enemy soldiers were exterminated.

Nardran stepped forward and booted a dying enemy out of the way. Then, he walked up to the enemy's leader.

"You have done us a great service today," the captain said.

"More so than you know, but we shall discuss that later. Bring me to Lord Unvar."

Dania sat panting behind the embankment, catching her breath as she waited for the others. It wasn't long before Narsh came stumbling over, and weakly fell to the other side. His side was wet with blood, his face pale with loss of the same. His breath was raspy, and shallow. Giving him one of her herbal draughts, despite his adamant refusal, she managed to staunch most of the bleeding and bind his chest. A large gash in his shoulder didn't want to stop, however, and when she went to wipe away some of the blood, she noticed it felt strangely hot. She bound the shoulder anyway, not sure what to do about that.
Sitting back, she waited for Faradin, Syntia, and Mal.

Slythre raised her head weakly, hearing the noise of battle. How came she here? The last thing she remembered was the horrible dungeon, and her ever oppressive guilt.

She stood up and looked around. The Corsairs of Umbar were attacking! They were just finishing off the last of the orcs and soldiers. She'd been unconscious for the whole battle! Obviously Unvar still didn't know where she was, and she intended to keep it that way. He knew what she had done, that much was certain, and he would probably kill her when she was found. Her wounds were on to serious. This was probably because the balrog had been trying to torment her, not kill her. Quickly, she picked up a cloak from the battlefield and wrapped it around herself. Then, she took a sword as well, and began climbing the ramparts.

She was half the way up when she saw a man walking down from the top. She looked up and their eyes met. It was Malagar, Unvar's ally.

"Well, we meet again," he said, climbing down the steps toward her.

"But how can you be here? I saw you fall from Orthanc's pinnacle." Best to avoid the topic of Unvar for the moment for as long as possible. If he turned her in, she was dead.

Faradin finished wandering about the fortress and headed to Dania and Narsh's resting place. "Well we seem to have everything in hand here, but that spawn of Angband is not here, he must have headed somewhere else when he realized the fortress could not be held."

Squatting next to the two elves he looked closely at Narsh. "Are you ok, my friend. You don't look well?"

"Let us just say luck was with me, as it often is. Not enough, however, to save all of me," and here Mal raised the short stump that was all that was left of one arm, for display.

Placing it back beneath his cloak, he said, "How came you here? Myself, and some of the others your lord had encountered in the woods, heard of the battle he was waging on this fortress, and came here in search of answers. The others were concerned with some orcs that threatened the wood... myself, I am more concerned now that I have learned what ran this place, though it fled away. But how did you end up in its dungeon?" As he finished, Mal cocked his head to one side, and stared Slythre in the eye.

Slythre hesitated, and turned her head for a moment, nervously scanning the crowd of corsairs below. She looked back at Malagar. There was no letting him off. When he and Unvar had created their alliance, she hadn't gotten the impression that it was permanent. And if it was, he would already have turned her in. He also would have returned to Unvar after his wounds were cured, rather than remaining separate. It seemed more likely that he was out for himself, and had entered into the alliance for convenience.

If he was allied with Unvar, telling him her story would at least make it certain that Unvar would know what had really happened before executing her. And if he wasn't, telling him could cause no real damage.

"Come with me," she said, and walked slowly up the stone steps to the top of the wall. She wrapped her cloak a little tighter around her, and then turned to him. "When we first came to this country, I had every intention of helping Lord Unvar, and doing his bidding. Me and Agravigan were his top agents. We were some of the very few who he actually trusted. He sent us on his top missions, and we were personally groomed by him into becoming experts at stealth, combat, and spy duty. Shortly after we made camp at Fangorn Forest, a person visited me in my tent. He was an elf named Nardran, a captain of an army, and one who was attempting to accomplish a great mission, and take a treasure from Fangorn which would help to heal the world of all of the great wounds inflicted on it. He told me that I could help him to discover this treasure."

She sighed and looked out over the wall. "I was deceived. It appears that both of Unvar's top agents had weaknesses. Agravigan's failing is sometimes to pay attention to the job at hand, and he sometimes makes mistakes."

"And you don't?"

She smiled wryly at him. "No, not really. But my failing is even worse than his. I was gullible, and too open to what he was saying. I'd always dreamed of helping in a great and just cause, and with some persuasion, he somehow convinced me to do it."

Mal frowned. This didn't sound too plausible.

"A creature from Mordor stole the palantir from Saruman's tower, and replaced it with another. One to twist him to evil. The real one was taken by this creature, but as it fled, it was shot down by archers from the wall. Using my elven cloak, I went over, took the palantir, and got away without being noticed. Then, I gave it to Nardran at this castle. However, later on, I finally began to suspect. How did Nardran know about the transaction? On one of my visits to the place, I heard to people mention the word 'master' with such fear that I couldn't believe it was Nardran. I commanded him at knife point him to take me to the master, which he did."

Pain filled her face from the horrible memories of the experience. She could almost feel the flames, and the slashing claws again. Already, the phisical wounds were beginning to throb less painfully. But the nightmares would haunt her to the rest of her days. Even if she escaped Unvar's wrath, she would never be truly free from this experience.

Tears filled her eyes. "I have betrayed Unvar, and am no longer worthy of his trust. He wants to kill me, and I do not blame him." She bowed her head. "What you do now, is your choice."

A black sailed ship approaching Umbar's coast was certainly not a rare uccurence. However, a black sailed ship with a blazing red eye on the sail was.

"I am the Mouth of Sauron!" a voice cried out over the water from the ship. "I demand audience with your leaders!"




Lord Gordance sat down opposite the creature. "Sir, I'm afraid that our Lord Unvar is not here at present. He's been away for two or three months on business. I'm afraid you only have me and the other lords to speak to." He motioned his hand to the other nobles. "These twelve nobles are all here to see what could be important enough to make such an important person leave Middle Earth and come to us."

"My lords," the creature began. "I have come here with a piece of information for you all. Are you acquainted with the reason for Lord Unvar's journey to Middle Earth?"

"It was private."

"So private indeed that even his top officials shouldn't hear of it?"

They looked at each other uncomfortably.

"The Dark Lord of Mordor has become interested in the affair for personal reasons. However, he did stumble upon one piece of information which he believed would interest you."

Lord Gordance looked at his hands. "Get to the point. What is it that you want?"

"Nothing except your benefit."

"You expect us to buy that?" Gordance scoffed, and the others murmured in agreement.

"Listen. How many of you were friends with Lord Mordin?"

"Three of us," Gordance said.

"He was as good a corsair as any here, was he not?"

"What are you getting at? Mordin betrayed Lord Unvar, and was killed for it. It was Unvar's right, as our ruler."

"But you didn't hear why Mordin turned against Unvar. He discovered how you could all be defeated. Lord Unvar owned a palantir, a seeing stone. He was using it to spot out your defenses, and prepare his strategy in accordance with it. Mordin discovered this, and stole the palantir. Then, he fled for his life, not having time to alert you as to his plight. He hoped that what he'd done would stop Unvar from defeating you, but he was wrong. Unvar sped up his plans, and used what information he already had to defeat all of your fortresses simultaneously, and seize complete control of your territories."

Gordance and his comrads looked at each other, surprise in their faces, but it appeared that they were beginning to believe him. "That explains much," he said.

"Unvar pursued and exterminated both Mordin and the entire crew of his ship. But he was too late, and Mordin had already given the palantir to an agent in Middle Earth. Instantly, Unvar picked up on the agent's trail, and has used fear and murder as weapons to his advantage. Already, he closes on his prey."

The nobles' faces were livid with fury. "He betrayed us all!" one said in wrath.

"Lord Sauron of Mordor suggests an alliance between our two countries," the lieutenant of Mordor said, hardly able to keep the triumph he was feeling out of his voice. "You shall join with us, and we shall help show you rich targets to hit, and, if you wish, how you may take your revenge on Unvar."

The vote was unanimous, and took only a few minutes to procure. That day, Mordor gained a new ally in Gordance, the newly elected ruler of the corsairs.

Narsh looked up at Faradin. Though his face was pale, his jaw had a stubborn set to it.
"I'm fine," he rasped, "it just burns a mite, that's all. That orc must have put some sort of poison on the edge of the blade. No normal wound would burn this much."
Dania looked at his shoulder again, "The bleeding isn't stopping either. Maybe we should let Mal and Syntia know we need to get back to the Forest."

After a moment's thought, Mal responded.

"Well," he said, pausing for a second, and continuing dryly, "I doubt Unvar would take you back into his confidence, indeed. But you certainly do not strike me as the type to willingly side with the fallen one that led this fortress, and your pains are all too evident..."

Mal made a quick decision, and gestured for Slythre to follow him, saying, "Come with me, I will help you out of this place, and Unvar's immediate grasp."

Slythre could hardly believe her ears, but was quickly up, despite the pain, and heading after him. Deeply she wished she could return to Unvar, but she knew, no matter her skills, he would never accept her back into his trust.

Fortunately dusk was well upon the fortress, and darkness and shadows were plentiful. As the pair headed down corridors, and up stairways back to the central level of the fortress, they only encountered one patrol of corsairs, and easily evaded them in a shadowy alcove. A short while later they slipped over one rampart, and crept down to the ground, along a wall that would have appeared sheer to anyone else, but seemed practically a staircase to Mal, with niches and handholds aplenty, and even Slythre in her weakened state easily moved down it to the ground. When the got down, Slythre followed Mal a short distance, until they both were well within Fangorn once again.

Turning to her, Mal said, "I now have a matter to investigate - the fallen one fled the tower and had some business within the woods, and I am quite interested in discovering what it was. It is long gone now, I am sure, but whatever would draw such a one into such a well defended place... well, that intrigues me greatly indeed. As for you, I leave you now to go where you will, but I am sure that, if you are still weak from your travails, some of the others who went into the fortress could help heal you, though you may wish to wait till they are no longer near Unvar's army. I know for sure some of them are most certainly only allies of necessity for him and would help you. Your path now lies in your hands."

As Mal finished his short speech, he gave a brief bow, flashed a grin, and began to slowly stroll off into the woods.

Lord Unvar walked up to Nardran, a smile on his face. "A pleasure it is to meet a warrior so valiant. My captains have told me of the help you gave us within the fortress, and I believe many of my men owe you their lives."

Nardran shook hands with the corsair lord, and nodded. "High praise indeed, coming from one such as you."

"I do thank-you indeed for your help." His face took on a more serious expression. "However, I must inform you that I do not consider myself as in your debt. What you have done was without request, and is thanked for. But you may make no demands of me that I will feel obligated to accept."

Nardran stared at him through his closed visor for a moment longer. "I didn't think that you would."

"So do you wish to join my side? We have won a great victory over my enemy, however, I do not believe that the war is over. The balrog itself still lives, and I cannot believe that we have eliminated all of it's allies here today."

"Indeed not. I had no intentions of joining your side, however, if you do intend to fight the creature, I will willingly join it."

Something in the elf's tone caught Unvar's attention. "Why do you feel so strongly about this?"

The elf captain hesitated. "That is a private matter."

Unvar's arm shot up and knocked his helmet from his head. He looked Nardran cooly in the eye. "Not anymore." He stared at the elf for a moment longer. "Your service is accepted, for as long as we continue to wage war on the creature."

Nardran's emotions were carefully masked. "Thank-you, Lord Unvar."

Unvar nodded and pulled a map of the territory out, spreading it out on the table. "Now we must plan our next move."

Slythre stared after Mal for a moment. Then, she looked back at the fortress. Perhaps she had better follow his advice. She had no better plan for the future, and she still wanted to thank the group which had helped to save her life. She looked at the gates for a while, and at the men coming in and out.

Then, she stumbled over to a rough tree on the outskirts of Fangorn. After making sure that it was not an ent, she sat down with her back to it, wincing as her wounds stabbed pain through her again. Gingerly, she probed the wounds, and bound them with long pieces of cloth, torn from her cloak. A very makeshift bandaging, but it would have to be sufficient for the time being.

Slowly, she rested her head back on the tree trunk, and closed her eyes. After a moment, she drifted off into a deep and dreamless sleep, finally relieved of her pain, even if only for a while.

Mal began to make his way through the woods, and shortly into it, set himself into his full powers of stealth, and despite his injury, not a single being would have noticed his passing for anything more than the shifting of a shadow in the moonlight.

He kept to the outskirts of the wood for aways, and noticed, as he went on, he was nearing the path to Isengard. Looking up into the skies, he noticeda figure take off from the top of the tower, sailing on huge wings over and away from the wood. The balrog? wondered Mal, but while he sensed power from above, it was not malevolent and it seemed weakened or cloaked, much like Saruman in his Istari form had seemed. Mal shook his head, dismissing what passed overhead as it sailed away from the forest, and continued on his own path deeper into Fangorn.

Soon, though, he came to something that concerned him deeply. Looking around as he entered the clearing he had seen the Ents during his first night in the wood, he could scarcely recognize the place. Fire had burnt through many of the trees, and even Ents lay fallen on the ground. Other dark shapes lie strewn about the clearing, and only a few living creatures remained in the place. Looking up from the corpses, Mal saw Syntia and the large ent that had healed him conversing.

He began to step out of the shadows and reveal himself, when he almost tripped over something lying on the ground. Glancing down as his near fall pushed something out of a pile of dirt it lay in, he saw a glittering orb. That's a stroke of luck, thought Mal, as he picked up the Palantir and pocketed it quickly, planning to investigate how it had gotten there at a later time. First, to discover what had happened.

Stepping out of the darkness cloaking him, Mal entered the clearing, and waving his one good hand, hailed to Syntia and the ent. "By the blessed music! What happened here?" he asked, in tones of certain unfeigned wonder at the carnage about him.

*Damn you Mathron I was going to get the Palantir. Sorry for dissapearing for a couple of days. I had school friday and then a Bachelor party for a friend friday night, and then the wedding for said friend today.

"You two stay here," Faradin said to the two elves, "I'm going to see what I can gather to help with the wound. Make sure he gets plenty of water and some food to keep up his strenght, I should be back in a few hours."

Faradin left the fortress and as he was leaving he saw Unvar in deep conversation with a elven warrior with a hideous wound. He almost stopped, but Narsh's need was too great for delay. Making his was back into Fangorn he began his search for the neccessary plants.

*By the way, the ents probably should tell Syntia and Mal about the Book of Secrets. But they don't know what it does, only that it was a matter of great importance, and was given by a magical craftsman from the land of the Valar.*

Marondras' arms were raised over his head, and his face contorted. Sweat ran in rivulets down his face, and his wild hair flew loose behind him.

Arvec looked at him in awe. What a man he was. Marondras had never impressed him as a man of power. Often, Arvec had suggested to Captain Nardran that Marondras be removed, and each time, Nardran had been evasive in his answers, side stepping the question. But now Marondras had informed him that the Blasting Delve was nearly completed. At each of their meetings, Marondras had seemed more and more drained. But this didn't stop him from keeping up his work at a feverish pace, often getting up in the middle of the night to go back to the mountain top. Sometimes he worked for days straight, without rest or any nourishment. Arvec himself could see no difference in the mountain top. The only signs that preceeded the coming completion of the project were Marondras' increased strain, and the occasional earthquakes that shook the ground.

But these were enough to keep Arvec alert and on edge. He was also growing more and more tense as the days passed, as if something great was about to happen. He only hoped that he'd be prepared when the time came.

Unvar's eyes shifted from Nardran to the ranger who was just leaving. The one who'd left without telling them on the plain.

"Agravigan, follow that ranger. Keep your distance, and don't do anything stupid. They are very good at fighting and at loosing themselves when they want to be lost. If it weren't for your magical enhancement, I doubt that you could keep up with him for two minutes. Just keep an eye on him."

"I will, my lord."

Agravigan quickly followed the ranger out over the plain and into the woods.

*Please, nobody make him do anything stupid. Once is enough.*

As soon as Unvar's attention was focused back on him, Nardran spoke.

"I do have some special information. I used to be one of the principle captains of this garrison, and as such, I was entitled to a higher amount of information regarding the balrog's activities."

"Really?"

"His headquarters is the Castle Iron Heart, a fortress of considerable strength, which lies nearby Helms Deep. I can take you and all of your men to it."

"Interesting. Does it have any surprises we aught to know about?"

"They do own several great bats, who could cause extensive damage from the air. And there is also an insane Istari inside it. Or perhaps not a wizard, more like a cross between one of those and a Maia."

Unvar's lips tightened. This did not sound good. "How do you suggest we defeat such a strong force? You've been there before."

"I used to be under the command of Dul Amroth, a prince of men. While I worked for him, I made several friends in his court. Some of these were dwarves. If their leader is the same, I could get them to help us dig a tunnel into the castle."

"But that would take so much time! And they'd surely notice our operation before we finished, if, as you say, they have bats."

"You could cause a diversion which would take up a great deal of their scouts. Or position the army at a differant location from the area the tunnel is dug. I'm sure we can arrange some cover for them to keep them from being seen. Especially if the main fighting is taking place on the other side of the castle. And they don't have to dig down, up and in. They simply have to dig forward for a couple days. With the proper tools, they can be superb miners. I expect them to crack into the place where the balrog issued forth to take possession of the fortress."

Unvar smiled. "It's ironic that the balrog took the castle from that hole, and it'll be taken back from it the same way."

"Yes. And not only the castle. Its life will be destroyed as well."

As Faradin made his way through the woods looking for the plants he would need he felt eyes on him but could see no one. He shrugged it off, he wasn't trying to lose himself, but unless someone was using magic ( ) they could not follow him without being seen themselves. He finally found enough of the leaves and roots he needed and headed back to the fortress.

Hurrying to Dania and Narsh he examined the wound and then began to take out his findings. "Take these roots and make a tea out of them, these will start to combat the poison already in his veins. Grind these leaves," he said taking out leaves of a dark green, "and put them on the wound for about an hour; they will draw out the poison still there. These," he said taking out some dry leaves and another root of a dark purplish color, "can be made into a poultice and should help the wound to close and heal. I'm going back out to see if I can find Syntia and Mal and to see if the Ents know the whereabouts of our true enemy, the Balrog."

"Thank you," Dania replied, taking the leaves from Faradin. He nodded, and left them in the clearing.
Dania set to busily making a small fire, with little smoke so as to not draw too much attention.

The ent turned at Mal's appearance, and boomed out a number of words in its strange language. Syntia, looking tired and sore, translated, saying, "The Balrog's target was here, apparently. I sensed, while with you in the tower, his attack, and came as fast as I could, but many ents had already fallen. He took an artifact that Treebeard says was buried here. Neither I, nor the ents, know any more of what it was, save it is called the Book of Secrets, and was crafted by a craftsman of my land - the isle of the Valar."

Mal's mind raced across his memory, and his knowledge of many, many treasures, but he could not place his immediate mind on what this artifact was. Book of Secrets, eh? His mind grew a bit interested at that name - secrets were his domain... but whatever this was, he could not recall it at the moment.

His contemplation took only a moment, and he said, "The damage the dark one has done seems quite extensive, and he got away with his treasure, it seems. Do you know where he went?"

Frustrated, Syntia shook her head, and Mal could read the same feeling on Treebeards face. But the ent said a few more words, and Syntia explained, "It is good, at least, that the Balrog will leave this place be, now that he has his treasure. But I fear we must still seek it out, for who knows why it needed this Book of Secrets, or what powers it may give it?"

"A good point indeed," came a voice from behind them, and Faradin, the ranger, emerged from the woods. "And while I know not, as well, the foul fiends location, I do know that the," and his voice stiffened, and grew thick with disgust, "corsair lord, Unvar, has made the acquantance of a liutenant who turned on his dark master, in the fight at the castle. It would seem likely that he, if any, may be able to shed some light on the fiend's location."