The Great Quest

Harnauro looked at Ayna for a few moments, without speaking, and she turned away from his gaze, shivering, and said, "What do you want?"

He finally spoke. "I spoke with Arnon. He said this place was part of a larger kingdom. The other parts were a vale called Ethrilien, and a hill area near it. That sounded very similar to the lands I escorted you through. He also said that a family important to them was recently killed. I recall the slaughter you found at the end of your travel. I don't believe in coincidence. What do you know of this?" His speech, filled with short, clipped phrases, was still more words than he usually spoke in a day, and as he finished, his eyes burned into Ayna once again.

She thought for a moment. These questions weren't as bad as she'd expected, although the answers could lead to more questions. Worse questions, which she could not answer without forcing them entirely into this, no turning back. And if they knew, those who pursued would be forced to kill them all. Except, of course, for Dania.

She gave another small shiver. "That was the hill area which Arnon was talking about, although you cannot believe that all of those villagers were one family."

Tears came to her eyes, but she blinked them back. "No, the destruction of that family took place a while before then. Five or six months before. I was one of the people from that hill area, which was very close to Ethrilien. Elrov is the watcher of that valley, and when we were young we would play together, at secret hiding places, or other things children do. We were childhood friends, but our meeting at the hill at the same time was purely coincidence. When the people there were slaughtered, life for me was shattered."

Harnauro had long since released his grip on her arm, and she raised it to her eyes. But in a moment she had lowered it again, and looked up at him again, meeting his gaze. "Are there any other questions?"

Harnauro stared back at her. She had faced some harsh times. But so had many people...

"I don't like being involved in things I do not know about. If there is more that would affect me, I will wish to know." His words were harsh, but the tone was softer, and he looked away now, turning and striding back down the corridor, settling down against the wall outside the room, to think and contemplate throughout the night.

Ayna lay back on the straw which covered the rock bed, putting her hands behind her head. What will affect him, is what he wants to know. He wants answers, answers that if he has would cause him to become solidly on the enemy's hit list. Although I would normally not have doubted that he could take care of himself, against what we face, there is little hope that even his magic could prevail. Am I wrong in continuing with this group? They will protect, and that protection delayed the ultimate of destruction of Middle Earth. That and the private protection she'd wrought for herself. But was using them in this way wrong? She risked their lives, merely to protect her own, and that which she protected. But would it be better to strike out on her own, and find her way to Lothlorien, Rivendell, or Isengard, or one of those places which still had the wise and powerful, those who could help her now that she needed it? The Valar were gone, having shut away the Blessed Realm and left Middle Earth forever. Without them, she had to look to the next strongest. One who could lift the weight of this burden from her shoulders and stop the danger forever.

She frowned and shifted position again. No, going by herself would be near suicide. She needed them, and it was because of this that she was forced to use them as a shield between herself and utter darkness.

She shook her head slightly, looking up at the solid rock roof and simply lay there, waiting for the morning.

Ulrog lay on the stone floor. Being an orc, he was no stranger to hardship. He wasn't sleeping in any of the rooms but had instead ended up with a section of floor in the chamber connecting them. There was no fear of him escaping in the night. These harsh mountain people had many guards posted, and there wasn't really anywhere for Ulrog to go, except down the cliff. He was sure there were other ways out of this place, but those only the eagles and mountain people knew.
He had been able to get some sleep during the afternoon while the others had gone exploring, and had even been able to catch a large rat as dinner. All in all Ulrog was feeling better. His captors had been paying a lot more attention to their new surroundings than to him, but he knew an interrogation was inevitable. Wolf-man had been keeping an eye on him, but even he seemed preoccupied with something else.
Ulrog's thoughts were interpupted by a slight change in the chamber's scent. It was coming from behind Ulrog, on the stairs. Suddenly he was grabbed and lifted off the ground. Ulrog stared into a hooded face and then saw the glint of a knife.
"You'll tell no secrets now!"
The man thrust his knife forward but Ulrog twisted his body at the last moment, bending forward to bite the man's wrist. Ulrog's sharp teeth sheared through veins and the man threw him aside, as he staggered back. He didn't scream. Angered, Ulrog lept at him, latching on to his other wrist and tearing it open with his teeth. Ulrog tasted more blood as he heard his assailant's knife drop to the ground. Releasing him Ulrog went for the knife, his orc-eyes finding it easily in the dark. His opponent was bleeding badly from both wrists and hadn't uttered so much as a groan. He was also unarmed, but still he attacked, rushing Ulrog and trying to grab hold of him. Ulrog thrust the knife into his lower body, and watched in satisfaction as his opponent finally slunk to the ground. Ulrog stood over the body. He had found an agent of his master.

Ulrog was not the only target that night, however.

Harnauro raised his eyes as he heard a very slight movement from the bottom of the stone stairs.

His bow was out in a flash, with an arrow nocked to the string.

Three shadowed figures reached the top of the steps, naked blades gleaming in the light of the moon from the stone window.

Harnauro's hands became a blur, and the first took an arrow through the chest, falling backwards out through the window and hurtling downwards off the cliff. The second took an arrow in the side, snapping him around and against the wall. The third leapt forward quickly enough to avoid a similar fate, his blade moving in swift, short blows, all of which were easily blocked or avoided by its adversary.

Harnauro's hand changed into a paw just as it swept upwards towards the creature's neck. It moved its sword to block, but in a sharp twist, Harnauro's paw moved to the side, avoiding the blade and severing the hand. To his surprise, it ignored this loss and lunged upwards with its second hand, burying a dagger in Harnauro's side. The wound closed and Harnauro moved again, his paw shifting into a hand and seizing the creature by the chin. Lifting it bodily off the ground, he slammed its head into the wall, knocking it out.

He heard shouts from down below and turned around to see several cliff dwellers rushing up, swords drawn.

"It's all right," he said, raising a hand to stop them. "It's already over."

"One attacked the orc, too," one said. "What are they?"

Harnauro casually flipped the hood away from one its face with his boot, and froze, his face registering shocked surprise.

"Call the others," he said grimly as he stared into the face of the Nrake.

Harnauro's lips were pressed tight together, anger coursing through him now that the fight had ended. He looked the body over, but found nothing of use - but its features and form told enough of who it came from, regardless.

He lifted it up against a wall, and carefully broke its arms and legs, ignoring its twitching groans and the shocked stares of the people milling about. Then, he lifted it up against the wall, and gripped its face, trying to slap it back into consciousness. He had seen its companion move before, had cornered the beast and yet it had escaped him through death. He would not fall for the same action twice. When this one awoke, he would have answers of it.

Upon seeing it was lost in unconsciousness, and would be some moments reviving, he carted it over his shoulder and strode into one of the rooms they had been given, to gain some privacy from the cliff folk watching them.

Narsh sat up in his bed, swung his legs over the side and stood up. "What happened?" he asked.

The battle had taken place in complete silence. The first two had died noislessly, and this one had only groaned slightly as its arms and legs had been broken. They were either remarkably in countrol of themselves or immune to pain. Or both.

The Nrake's eyes fluttered open and it looked up at the two faces its features betraying a trace of fear. Its torso moved slightly as it struggled briefly, but broken bones wouldn't get it anywhere, and it was forced to lie still, staring up into their faces.

Just then, the flap was opened and Arnon stepped in. "What has happened?" he asked sharply. Then he noticed the Nrake. "One of these attacked your orc prisoner as well, but it managed to kill itself to avoid questioning, even with both wrists having been mawled by the vile creature."

The flap opened again, this time admitting Ayna, wrapped in her cloak although she was still fully clad underneath.

"Another attack attempt," Narsh said. "These things may be good trackers, but they're a poor choice of combatants."

"Depends who they're fighting against," Ayna said quietly. "They seem brave enough, and careless of both pain and their own lives."

"They can feel it," Harnauro said. "And even if they can't normally," he turned to the creature, "I'll make you feel it unless you answer all our questions."

Arnon's cold gaze turned to the creature as well, and he crossed his arms, waiting for Harnauro to begin.

Harnauro looked at the creature. This wouldn't be easy, but he would have answers from it.

First things first, thought Harnauro, and asked the simplest question, "Who do you serve?"

"Vardor," the creature said. "I'd have thought Mal would have told you days ago."

The name didn't register in Harnauro's memory, but that didn't truly matter. The second sentence was of more importance, even if the Nrake hadn't thought it would.

Harnauro's face showed no reaction, as he spoke softly, "And why would you think that?"

"My master met with him then, at an old castle called Iron Heart, I think. I should have thought you'd have known that already. But I assume Malagar never rejoined you after this conversation."

Seeing the expression on Harnauro's face, it quickly proceeded. "That is all I know on that topic, but it is no secret. If it was, you would never have heard it come from my lips."

Harnauro blinked, unperturbed.
He turned, facing some of the others, and said, "Some of you may wish to leave. This may prove...unpleasant."

After any leave, Harnauro glances back at the Nrake. "You seem unusually talkative, beast." Harnauro, looking it in the eye, and grabbing it by the neck, and holding it up against the wall. "What secrets do you know?"

The creature's expression stiffened. "Nothing you can do to me will come close to what was done to me long ago, when I was taken into Vardor's service. He showed me then a fraction of what I would go through if I revealed any secrets, and I will not undergo such torment. What my master wills happens, and nothing can be prevented for long. If he had known of your existence, Dania would have been taken tonight, as would have Ulrog's life. You've prevented us for a while, but against his presence you cannot prevail for long."

Ulrog watched as some of the mountain men carried his attacker away. He hadn't managed to kill the thing. It had done that itself when the guards had tried to question it. He had mistaken it for a man, but it clearly wasn't. What the creature had said to him assured Ulrog that it was a servant of Varodr's, yet he had only seen these strange lizard things recently. He wondered what other nasties his master had hidden away.
It was clear he would get no help from any of Vardor's agents now. He had been marked. No doubt his master was worried Ulrog would give away his secrets. Escape was even more urgent now. As long as he was a captive of this lot he was a threat to Vardor, and would be hunted by the same people who hunted them. Ulrog shuddered at the thought of what would happen to him if he was caught. But unfortunatly escape was no easier now than it had been before. One of the mountain men now watched over him. They all looked at Ulrog a little differently after thay saw what he'd done to the lizard thing.

As Harnauro scowled at the creature, he paused for a moment, as it said its masters name again. Vardor... it rang a bell in Harnauro's head, but he could not recall details. Placing it in the back of his head, to ruminate on at a later date, he said to the thing, "I doubt Vardor has the might to plague the dead. Should you tell us what I wish, I will kill you. If not, I will leave you to your master's mercy - I doubt he will reward failure. Also, you have already told us information we did not have - perhaps that was how your master wished it, for how are you to know what he deems secret and not."

Harnauro smiled grimly, and asked again, "Now, then, what is your master's interest in Dania?"

"If you want to know that, ask her yourself," the Nrake spat. "Regardless of what you think, I do know what is not safe to tell and what is not. So far what you have learned, my master does not care about. If Dania has the coldness of heart to tell you, that's her decision." His lip curled. "Although I doubt she will."

Harnauro slammed the Nrake facefirst into the wall with a snarl, hearing its nose break, and dropped its body to the ground, knowing that his anger probably wouldn't get it to talk, either. He lifted it back up, and its eyes remained defiant despite the blood streaming down its face.

Turning to Arnon, he said, "Do you have a place to store this one? Or better yet, know of any way to get it to talk?"

Arnon hesitated. "I've never seen this species before tonight, and your methods don't appear to be having that much effect. I don't know if we can do much better."

"Well then store it," Harnauro growled, shoving the creature across to Arnon.

Arnon beckoned to a couple guards and gave some quick orders to them. Soon, they had lifted the creature and were carrying it out.

Although caught by surprise at having been noticed at the doorway, he recovered quickly. "You weakhu'ne have brought something rotten into our cave dwellings. Pursuers, and evil ones at that. Before you go, I'd like to know more about you and your company."

Harnauro crossed his arms, and said, "Go ahead, ask what you will. But I'm not sure I know much more than you do. The name Vardor mean anything to you?"