Hytorax Part 2

[Lief Erikson]

A Shadow appeared by Dagankor's side, as he lay on his bed at night.

"I have come from the Council," it announced. "I bring news."

Dagankor did not open his eyes, but continued to lie still. "Give it," he commanded, his voice soft.

"Our new breed of orcs is perfected. The first companies are ready to issue forth, to join the rest of our army. If you have any need of our strength, it is here, for you to direct."

"I do not need it. I have spoken with many of the leaders who will be participating in the Council already, and they are falling into my hand. But tell me, what are our foes doing?"

"There are three movements they have already taken, against us. They sent an eagle to ask Rohan for an alliance. We have sent the servant of the Council, the Beoring, to stop it before it reaches them.

"They have sent a company out, of warriors. Where they are going we don't yet know, but they are watched, as well.

"And they are doing everything they can to marshal their remaining military forces, at Néred. Against this, we have yet taken no action."

Dagankor opened his eyes and sat up. "There is no need. Our army alone would be sufficient to crush them, without the soldiers of Enedwaith that I am attempting to subvert."

"But not if they join our enemies."

"Assure the Council of the Shadowhand of this," Dagankor said, angrily. "My attempts to take control of these military forces will not fail. Last time, the forces that had been provided me were insufficient for me to take Enedwaith at once. I trust that this time the same mistake will not be made. The defenses that the Shadowhand provides me are the only question. Are they strong enough?

"Now go back to your masters. I will not fail. I have no use for the army of the Shadowhand as yet- the battle should not begin until we have this Council completed."

"As you wish." The Shadow bowed, and left him.

Dagankor stood up, still angry. The Shadowhand leaders distrusted him. Him! Without him, the Hytorax would not be theirs, and they would not nearly so close to possessing Enedwaith as they were now. But only a few days from now, the Council would begin. And upon its completion, their military force would have grown so great that not even the force of Rohan combined with that of Vahatres could win. And the magic of the Hytorax most important of all. It connected with the other magical items would create a construct that would seize control of magic over nearly all Middle Earth. That final victory was close to gained, incredibly close.

"But they must not waste our chance on rash action," Dagankor said, quietly. "And that company . . . what is it doing?"

[Yodaman]

Theodur and his company finally reached Rohan after a long two week march. Theodur, unlike more than half of his company, remembered Rohan before Ellasar came and fixed it up. It used to be a small little country with lots of little villiages scattered everywhere. Now most of the villiages met at Edoras, which was way better than it was before. Pratically every house was twice the size as it was before, and the Golden Hall was (of course) golden. Right as they were about to reach the front gates, two man on beautiful steeds came striding by in their horses. Theodur couldn't make them out first, but once they got a little closer, he couldn't dout who they were. They were King Eomer of Rohan and King Ellasar of Middle Earth.
"Hail King Eomer", cried Theodur, and the rest of his company followed. They then all got off their horses and bowed down on their knees. "Hail King Ellasar, Lord of Middle-Earth".
"Now now", said Ellasar. "You know I hate it when you do that".
"S..s..sorry, m'lord", said one of the soldiers. "I didn't mean to offend you.
"No offense taken", said Eomer. "Come", said Eomer. "Hezubael, my messenger boy, told me all about you."
"We will have food and drink and pleasure", said Ellasar. "March forth!" All of them then got on their horses and followed him. "Theodur. I need to see you in private". Theodur then followed the king into an open field where no one could see them.
"Theodur", said Aragorn. "I'm dying. Aelfwine, my son is dying. Even Arwen is dying! And not just the people whom are close to me, but all of Gondor is dying. Shadowhand must've release a biological weapon or something. Please, can you help us?" Theodur was speachless.

[Earniel]

Imarwyn trusted on the senses of the horses to detect any possible danger during the night before she would. Attuned to the usual manner of horses, she slept soundly that night. Any suspicious change in their behaviour would have woken her up immediatly.

But the night passed undisturbed and before dawn the three of them were already preparing themselves to leave again.

~~~

His horse nudged Tareod from his sleep. Still yawning, he got up. It was early yet but the rule of no fires was still observed. Which ment no warm draught to send the night-chill from his bones, said Tareod to himself with a sigh. He observed the rest of the group and then found one was missing.

"Where's Malagar?" he asked.

"He left during my watch," said Fimbren. "But no doubt he'll catch up with us sooner or later. He knows where we're going."

[Mathron]

Malagar moved through the night with the grace of a stalking panther - lean, sleek, and with an aura of menace that betrayed its passing despite its silence and speed.

That was fine by him. He knew they had seen him. He might be able to hide from their eyes, but the company as a whole could not - not without help.

Right now, he wasn't planning on hiding from them. He was planning on scaring them.

A rustling in the brush ahead gave away one Shadowhand warrior, and Malagar moved out of the shadows in a flash of darkness. His hand caught the enemy by the mouth, and swung him around and against the ground, smashing the air out of his foe. Malagar leaned back, hearing his captive's spine creak at the tension.

The figure didn't struggle, and Malagar leaned close. "Hello, little nightbird," he whispered, "I heard you singing in the night. You should really choose a less obvious code."

The figure gave no response. Malagar loosened his grip... and the man began to laugh, softly.

Malagar paused. Something... wasn't right.

Another voice spoke, in his ear, directly behind him. Nothing should have been able to sneak up on Malagar, but by the time he realized something had, it was already too late. "And you, little shadow-master, shouldn't be so eager to take the bait."

Harsh laughter boomed around him as Malagar spun about - but already whatever stood behind him was gone.

He dove to the side as a fist lashed through the air where his head had been, catching him a glancing blow despite his dodge. Even the fraction of a blow was enough to send piercing pain through him, but he dismissed it as he came out of his roll and rose to his feet.

No sign of his enemy. And his captive was missing.

He didn't even have any warning this time, just a sudden flurry of fists appeared out of the darkness and slammed repeatedly into his torso, hurling him backwards, against a tree. Shaking his head, Malagar still couldn't catch sight of his foe.

"Don't run away, little mouse..." the voice echoed through the entire clearing.

Malagar was worried. He wasn't used to being the prey, even despite his recent years bound by mortal conventions. Malagar was concerned. He didn't like not knowing what he was facing.

But more than that, Malagar was pissed. An ebony glow began to radiate from his eyes, and the shadows in the clearing began to flow into him.

He grinned, and let loose his own laughter, filled with power and confidence. "Then come, little cat. You've already lost your chance to finish me - care to truly test my power?"

His words echoed into the night. He stood there, unmoving, for several minutes, and then released the power harmlessly back inot the shadows.

Whatever had assailed him had gone. But he still remained unsure of what it had been. The Shadowhand sentries had escaped. The creature that had toyed with him was still out there... and for all he knew, there could be more of it.

Malagar shook his head. No. If the Shadowhand had an army of such beasts, they would have already won. Just another of their many servants, he supposed.

He smiled. It had lost the element of surprise. Now that he was ready for it, only one thing was tue - It might not know it yet, but it was already dead...



---


Far away, Aasinav opened his eyes. He permitted himself a very small smile. His body nearly shook with the effort of what he had done, but it had been worth it. The bait was set. Malagar, though he didn't know it yet, was already defeated. The others would soon follow.

He felt the comfort of his shadow as he took it back into himself. Let it rest there, for now. And let Malagar try to carry out whatever plan he might have. The Shadowhand's network stretched far and wide. Their final work was nearly complete. Their power nearly absolute. And against them stood... a dying and divided country? Some allies too feeble to even defend themselves? And one small company that knew not what it faced?

Aasinav almost wanted to laugh. He was ready. They were not.

And the War of the Shadow had begun.

[Finrod Felagund]

Fimbren heard the cry of an eagle and looked up. But the sky was empty, the cry echoed again, but Fimbren realized it was within his mind, a piercing cry of pain. "Thorondor" he gasped.

The others looked at him. "He has been captured...or killed"

[Yodaman]

"What can I do?" asked Theodur. He didn't know what Aragorn was asking.
"You must find the Hytorax and destroy not only it, but Shadowhand", said Aragorn. "My son is dying. He's the only one at the moment, but I know more will be next. Will you help us?"
"Of course", said Theodur. "It's my duty to my King".
"Leave now", said Aragorn. "Leave when no one will see you. You must go alone. If more than one person goes it'll risk this mission. Do you understand me?"
"Yes", said Theodur. It pained him to say that. He didn't want to go on this silly quest. His duty was to his son and Rohan, but this was for the greater good. What if this Aragorn was a shapeshifter or the virus was just meant for the hiarchy of Gondor? That would mean he was doing a selfish task that Aragorn could do himself. But he knew he had to help him. It was his destiny.

[Lief Erikson]

"We are getting close to our destination," Aralle said. "I can feel it."

They were camped between two large, muddy, boulder strewn hills. The land around them seemed as if something foul had blasted it. The grass was yellow and dry, fluttering in the breeze with the passing of every breath of wind, like the few hairs on a balding man's head.

They had been on the move for several days now. The other company had a large distance to cover before it would reach the Shadowhand castle, but the military leaders' meeting was closer.

"Keep down," Glimdrell hissed, suddenly.

He flattened himself against a nearby boulder, and Aralle scattered the pieces of dry brush she'd been trying to form a fire from.

Imarwyn looked up, and from on top of the hill, they heard movement.

"Orcs," Glimdrell whispered to them, softly. His left hand moved down to the hilt of his dagger, but he raised his other, motioning for them not to move.

They heard the rustling of movement, above, and the sniffing of some creature. Soon they heard more. There must be a multitude of these beasts. The orcs weren't talking.

"Why are they waiting?" Imarwyn asked, in a low voice.

Glimdrell merely raised a finger to his lips, and waited.

A few minutes later, the sound grew again, and moved away.

"We are close," Aralle said, looking at him.

He nodded.

"So come, let's finish this job." Aralle stood up, and Glimdrell seized her arm.

"We'll be there tomorrow. We'll have to eat our meals cold, from now on."

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell nodded to Aralle. "If I only had brought any lembaswaf..."

Swoosh!

Suddenly Aralle cried out in pain as an arrow hit her.

A clean hit in the shoulder, the first shot hit a mark! Fired by an orc?

Glimdrell dipped to his stomack, without even realizing his own movement, and rolled into safety behind a stone.

"Aralle!"

Glimdrell reached out for Aralle's hand, determined to drag her into his shelter.


Swoosh! Swoosh! Swash!

Glimdrell retreated his hand quickly at the sound. A rain of arrows replied to his movement, miracolously none of them hitting Aralle.

"Imarwyn! Are you ok?"

[Lief Erikson]

*I've got your post saved here, because I've already edited my version. Go ahead and paste it back in and keep it.*

[Lief Erikson]

*Uh-oh. This could turn into a bad muddle.*

[Lief Erikson]

*Darn. My bad. Which version of events do you want to keep? Or should we just sequence events, so that after the mentioning of the cold food, then we have the firing squad? I'm saving your second post here, as well.*

[Arat-Falathion]

*dump*

[Lief Erikson]

Imarwyn was pulling an arrow from the rim of her boot. "Nicked, but nothing bad."

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell nodded as he pulled his shortbow from underneath his surcoat and fitted an arrow.

"Had nearly forgotten about this..." He said as he swung up from behind the stone and fired. He was nearly pierced by several arrows on his way down into sheltre again.

The divertion had let both Imarwyn and Aralle to find safer shelter atleast.

"How many are they?" Aralle asked, grinning all the while of the pain in her shoulder.

"I had no time to count, nor was it possible to see many of them. The orcs have actually sheltered themselves into perfect spots. I doubt I hit anything."

Glimdrell fitted another arrow to the string and took a deep breath, ready to spring up again.

[Lief Erikson]

Aralle peeked out from behind the boulder. "There's one getting away!"

Glimdrell sprang out, raised his bow, and fired. He saw the arrow connect with his target, and then he had danced back into hiding. An arrow had nicked his leg, though, in the space of time he was outside.

"Pull the arrow out of me!" Aralle said, sharply, to Imarwyn.

The woman stared.

"Do it now! We can't let any of this party get away. They all must die, or we're discovered and likely to be killed. Come on! I can only fight as a griffin, now!"

Imarwyn reached out, and pulled the arrow free.

Aralle doubled over, screaming. She gritted her teeth, then. She looked upwards and leapt into the air, transforming as she did.

"Come on, charge!"

She could see now, below. There were only two orcs, but each of them very large. Both were mounted upon large, shaggy haired creatures that clearly bore a similarity to wargs. What had been crossbred to achieve this monstrosity though, she could not imagine. They were probably twice as large as the normal warg, just as the orcs were half again as tall as the average Uruk-Hai.

One of them was galloping away, almost beyond catching. The other was looking up at her, his sharp teeth bared, raising his bow.

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell quickly broke the arrow and pulled it out of his leg. Quickly he produced a piece of clothing that he bound around the wound.

As he looked up again, he saw Aralle flying up into the sky.

"Hopefully that will devert them!" Glimdrell said, nicking another
arrow into place and jently rising from behind the rock.

Glimdrell scanned the area, but he could only see one orc, a tall orc on a warge-like creature. It was clearly aiming its bow up at Aralle.

Swiftly the elven arrow whipped through the air, piercing through the orcs neck and sprawling him beneath his warg. Glimdrell ducked, somehow predicting another rain of arrows aimed his way, but none came.

[Earniel]

Imarwyn quickly checked the bloodied arrow as Aralle ascended into the air. Doesn't look poisoned, she thought, good. If that was the case with all the fired arrows, the three of them would be alright. At least Aralle was still able to fly, and that with an arrowwound in the shoulder. Impressive.

Imarwyn leapt on Merrah's back, it would make her more exposed, but she counted on Aralle's ascend to draw most of the attention of the attackers.

Quickly she steered the horse around the large boulder. She saw one orc nearby, one further away, fleeing. The last one was already beyond a bow's reach but not too far to catch just yet.

"That one's mine." Imarwyn muttered and urged Merrah into a rapid run after the escapee. Behind her she heard the short gurgle of the other orc that choked on Glimdrell's arrow.

"Run Merrah, run! Show me Shadowfax isn't the only meara that can run like the wind!"

Merrah needed little encouragement for her rider to test her speed and kicking up turfs of parched grass, the meara flew after the warg.

[Tessar]

*OOC garh I'm sorry. I haven't been able to write anything decent for the past few days and this is the best I could do. It totally sucks . Mal, when she calls him 'lost one' she's not being mean or anything, that's just how she thinks of him, but not in a really mean rude way.*

Elise sat up straight in the night, ignoring the chill as her blankets fell away.

Somewhere in the forest she had sensed another being of great strength preparing to unleash his power, a dark power. Perhaps Aasinav was preparing to strike, and if so she would not give him the edge.

Scooping up her staff from the ground, Elise stood and strode past the night watcher, heading out into the forest as she summoned up her own power. Whatever the being was, it had less strength than her, and a creature as sneaky as Aasinav would be unlikely to face her in a head on battle.

The end of her staff burst into brilliant light as she moved out of the camp’s line of vision, she wasn’t stupid enough to wander around at night when a creature of darkness was nearby without a light to keep it from sneaking up on her.

The light of her staff brought everything into a pale, almost ghostly view, and as Elise hurried through the forest, grew brighter by the minute.

Suddenly the feeling of darkness left and Elise came to a halt, straining her senses to their limit. Either she had been correct and whatever it was had fled, or it knew her and waited now to attack physically. Her mind whirled as she spun about and scanned the darkness outside her staff’s illumination, less a movement of fear than making ready to lash out at anything that came into view.

Malagar slipped into view from behind a tree and Elise instantly relaxed. Slightly. Shadows seemed to cling to him, but fell back as he moved into the circle of light Elise’s staff radiated.

“A little late to be out walking.” he commented with a nod of greeting at her.

Elise nodded and gave him a piercing look, as if searching his soul for answers. They were apparently not forthcoming, and she grumped something under her breath as she turned and headed back towards the camp.

“I won’t ask what you’ve been about this night,” Elise said, pausing and turning to look at him again. “But I will say that you must be careful. There are forces at work here even I dare not think on too much, Lost One.”

[Yodaman]

Thedoar was basking in the sun. He hadn't had a break for weeks. Now, after a near case of death, he could relax and be at peace with his inner self. He didn't want his father or anyone else in the world to interrupt him.
"ATTENTION ALL COMPANY!" yelled his dad. Then the horn of Rohan, which was right next to Theodar, blew. He then jumped up, got his armor on, and ran to where all the other soldiers were. He didn't care about the basking anymore. He would hurt his dad later.
"... that the eagle has been shot down", was what Theodar could pick up when he arrived clad in his armor. "Theodar, my son, shall lead the company while Linden and I go solo and find the eagle, and mabey even the Hytorax. Thank you." What was this. He had to lead the army. He was so inexperienced.
"Dad..." said Theodar
"I know, my son", said Theodur. "But you must lead them. I trust you more than anyone else on this Earth."
"But I don't even know where we're going!" exclaimed Theodar. Then Theodur sighed and showed Theodar a map. "Here is where the Shadowhand base is supposed to be. You're supposed to attack there while Linden and I rescue the eagle. You go on..." Then Theodar started weeping. "Oh, my son. You will find your inner strength soon enough. And you will be a great warrior of Rohan and destroy all evil forever. I promise". Theodar then left his dad and went to the soldiers. He had a job to do.

[Lief Erikson]

The orc had not seen Aralle, yet. She watched him, eyes narrowed, as she plunged forward.

Off to the side she saw Imarwyn mounted on her horse, galloping full speed toward this orc.

Aralle raised her claws and fastened them into the orc's shoulders. At the same moment, she smashed her beek into the back of his head.

The orc roared, and Aralle's weight pulled him over the back of his horse, tossing both of them onto the ground. Aralle kept striking, clinging on, but the orc's huge hands came over the back of his head and grabbed her by her front legs. He heaved her all the way over his body and kicked her in the stomach with his great, iron shod foot.

Aralle collapsed on the ground and staggered to her feet, dazed.

The orc rubbed the back of his head with one hand, looking at it them, covered in his own blood. He turned his face then to Aralle and snarled, lowering one hand to the hilt of his sword.





Glimdrell notched another arrow and looked around the boulder, hesitantly. No more of those lethal arrows were coming.

But the orc he had shot through the neck had pulled the arrow out again, and was snarling in his direction.

Glimdrell's next arrow caught him in the back of the neck, as the orc turned, and the beast roared again, blood spattering out of his ruined throat. He clearly took far longer to die than an ordinary orc, as well.

The monster leapt onto his huge warg and turned on Glimdrell. His mount's jaws gaped open, saliva pouring from within as it crashed madly toward the elf assassin's place of hiding.