Hytorax Part 2

[Earniel]

The orc that faced Aralle never quite got the chance to pull out his sword.

What he did get was a very brief moment to look up in surprise when the large shadow of Merrah loomed over him. And then the mare's hooves smashed down on his helmet and obscured his view.

The orc crumbled to the ground, dark blood flowed from under his dented helmet on the parched grass.

Normally the blow must have killed him on the spot, but Imarwyn had begun to realise that 'normal' didn't always happen in Enedwaith these days. So she let Merrah kick the body further away.

The warg that had stayed away during from the fight, now came closer and sniffed the body of his immobile rider. It snarled, presenting Imarwyn with a view of a row of cruel, sharp teeth.

Imarwyn kept her horse between the warg and Aralle, giving the griffin some time to catch her breath.

"Are you alright, Aralle?" Imarwyn asked without taking her eyes of the warg.

[Lief Erikson]

"All right, yes," Aralle said, blinking and struggling to breath. It was hard, and painful.

The orc on the ground was moving again, slightly. Aralle leapt on him, crushing him again and again with her beak.

The warg was looking down at Aralle, opening its jaws. It rose to nearly twice her height, even while she was mounted.

"They are giants," Aralle cried.

She looked up at the warg and wiped the blood of her beak with her paw. The creature was beginning to move toward them at a rapid rate.

"Let's get out of here! We don't have the weapons to take him!"

Imarwyn turned and Merrah leapt away, a sleek shot of color in the sunlight. The warg thundered after her, as tall as a house, roaring loudly.

Aralle leapt into the air. Imarwyn should be able to get away, even despite the huge physical advantages of the warg.

Aralle's mighty wings beat heavily as she moved upward, looking down. Glimdrell.

She dove back toward the rocky hilltop, as the warg crashed into the boulder they'd hid behind and knocked it over. Glimdrell was visible, shooting two arrows into the creature's eyes. The beast waved its head, maddened, but its rider was still barely alive and capable of guiding it.

Imarwyn would just have to wait.

Aralle leapt on the warg from above, knocking him off his warg and tumbling with him onto the ground, fighting to put an end to him. He was too strong again, though. Aralle felt one of her wings about to break with the might of his grip, and she screamed, trying now to separate from him.

The sound attracted the warg which thundered toward them, opening its maw of razor sharp teeth.

Aralle leapt away just in time and the beast thundered by, its master's lifeless body in its mouth.

Glimdrell put an end to it at last with one final, well aimed arrow.

"Imarwyn," Aralle said, turning to Glimdrell. "We must kill the last remaining warg."

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell nodded. "You think you could carry me on the wind?"

[Lief Erikson]

Aralle felt a little doubtful, especially because of the bruises she'd received wrestling with the giants. Despite her minor injuries, and the arrow wound, would she be able to do this?

These doubts disappeared as she grabbed the elf's shoulders with her huge paws. Her wings beat heavily, and she soared upward, dragging him up with her. The wind bouyed her, catching in her wings, and she began to glide across the land. She moved as quickly as she could, gaining speed. She could see the warg dashing across the plain, and also noticed Imarwyn riding along behind them, with their horses.

There was no way the Rohirrim rider would catch up, now. But Aralle might.

Aralle was truly amazed, for the elf she was carrying hardly seemed to weigh a thing. It was as if she was carrying a small pack of goods in her hand, rather than a heavy person.

The elf drew his bow taut and aimed the arrow for the warg's head. He let loose the shaft, and the warg raised its head, roaring angrily. The arrow had deflected off of its thick skull.

Glimdrell aimed more carefully, and let loose a second shaft. Again it missed the huge creature, but it was slowing to a stop, now. It was almost unhurt, but it was looking at them in furious anger, wondering how to get at them.

Aralle flew Glimdrell closer, much closer to the warg.

A small flicker of fear appeared on the elf's face as they approached the creature. Then the warg suddenly rose up on its hind legs and leapt for them. His massive paws flashed in the air, and Glimdrell's single arrow flew straight into the mass of power below them.

The great hairy mound of flesh and bone crashed onto the ground like a stone tower. The end of Glimdrell's arrow was barely visible, poking out through the dead monster's eye.

Aralle breathed a long sigh of relief, and lowered herself and Glimdrell down to the ground. "No one even spotted it."

"It won't be long before they do," Glimdrell said, walking over to the creature and tugging out his arrow.

"Tomorrow we'll be in their encampment," Aralle said, firmly. "Success or failure, tomorrow this quest shall meet its climax."

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell always paced a couple of steps in front of the others as they continued their journey through the night. Dipping from shadow to shadow (as often as the bare land gave shelter) in the moonlit night, they closed in swiftly and silently, alert to all that happened around them and on watch for anything unusual.

The bow was back on the rogue's back now, his arms swinging in perfect harmony with his running feet, in integral balance. Behind came Imarwyn and Aralle, both riding and leading Glimdrell's horse. The elf came to a hold at the top of a small hill and crept prone to the edge. A dense fog lay scattered over the land beyond, hindering his keen eyes from examining the land, yet he heard grunts and the chimes of armour, and a strange heated stench tingled at his face.

He turned around to the others, his features honestly wrought with fear and disgust. They had already stepped down from their horses to join him.

"Your watch, Gurthbag!" a grunting voice suddenly cut through the silent presence of the company. "Me's not for staying here so dumbfoundly for longer than me has to! Okthar is hungry, me needs food!"

Both Imarwyn and Aralle dipped to the ground instinctively as the voice sounded. And a silence followed, a torturing pause. If they were seen here, they might as well get an army to fight.

"...Gurthbag! YOUR WATCH!!!"

"Gurthbag's coming, Gurthbag's coming, stupid!"

...and in that moment one of the horses made a stamping sound...

[Lief Erikson]

The voices went silent.

"You hear that?" the voice of Okthar said.

"Gurthbag didn't hear nothing, stupid! Gurthbag only hears real sounds!"

"Gagh," the other voice snarled.

There was the sound of a blade ringing from its sheath, and then feet running away.

"Kill it someday," Okthar's large voice growled.

The sound of huge iron shod feet lumbering through the undergrowth reached their ears, easily. The creature was heading toward them.

Aralle jumped quietly off her horse, but as she did she spread her wings, transforming once again into a griffin.

She flew through off into the fog, and after getting a distance away from the company, she repeated the horse's noise by thumping her foot against the ground, noticeably.

"Who's there?" the voice growled.

She heard him coming her way, now. She had tried to draw him away from her companions. Had it worked?

"Crumgor!" the voice shouted, suddenly. "There's something out here!"

A couple shouts sounded from further off.

Aralle transformed into a woman and started to run away from the camp. Her footsteps were heard by the beast and she heard his huge steps thundering after, gaining on her.

Aralle transformed once again and shot off the ground, disappearing in the fog. Underneath her, she saw the huge body of a gigantic orc run by. He was holding a bow and arrow in his hands.

Aralle soared quickly down to her comrades.

The sound of running footsteps from the other orcs were approaching. They were still far enough away, but there was no time to lose.

"Come on, charge in!" she said to the others. "He's out for the moment, but he'll be back."

She leapt onto the horse, again a human, and they were cantering toward the enemy encampment. They could not gallop for fear of being heard, and the suspense to Aralle was unbearable. The footsteps were close now, too close.

Not far away, they saw the huge bodies of four orcs thunder past them, nearly as fast as a horse could run.

Aralle let out the breath she'd been holding. "Thanks be to the Valar for the fog. We're in. First we must find Hruad and Dolais, if they're still alive. Then the council. Hurry."

She hastened the speed of her horse, riding with her comrades toward the camp.

[Arat-Falathion]

Iriana woke, still resting against her horse's sleeping body, and saw both Malagar and Elise returning from beyond the camp.

"What news does our surroundings tell?" Iriana asked lightly as she jumped to her feet.

Both turned the answer away in silence.

"Pack your things!" Elise ordered, "the sooner we reach our destination and its quest, the better."

Soon they were on the move again...

[Arat-Falathion]

"...and where should we expect the captives to be?" Imarwyn voiced as they passed through the fog, never knowing how far away the camp was at any given time.

"We'll first have to know what kind of stronghold they host here..." Aralle replied, "Little is known of this area, haunted by shadows and the dreadful mists covering the land, people say, obfuscating the valley. Yet I suspect it is only lies forged by the Shadow Hand for seclusiveness and secresy."

"Cunning!" Glimdrell added, and Imarwyn couldn't help but notice the sparkle in his elven eyes, a shimmer of expectation and nervosity, yet sureness and eagerness.

They rode on for a little while longer when Glimdrell staggered them. "I see a silouett ahead through the fog!" the elf whispered. "Looks like a wall, spanning wide across the valley floor... both ends disapear into the mist, I can not see clearly."


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

Iriana found herself riding beside Fimbren as they followed Malagar and Elise in the front. Regarding his slender form she noticed the calm on his face, not showing an emotion of fear for the comming storm. He was a veteran she knew, one who had seen more war then she had walked on the soil of this earth. She noticed the sword at his side, likewise undaunted. A legendary sword he possessed, indeed a warrior which was good to be allied with at an upcoming event such as the one at hand.

"You seem unworried of the coming war..." Iriana had to compliment the elven warrior.

[Lief Erikson]

"That is it," Aralle said, softly. "The city of Lond Daer. It and Tharbad, the great cities of Enedwaith were all destroyed or forgotten, long ago. They have yet to be rebuilt by the new kingdom that is established."

She looked to either side at her comrades. "For now, their ruin is our advantage."

She hurried forward, the elf and woman close behind her. They passed the first stone building, and flitted behind a sentry like shadows. It was a man, clad in the colors of Enedwaith.

He whirled around and looked after them for several seconds, before shrugging and continuing his march.

"In here somewhere are the representatives," Aralle said, peering closely into the hollow mouth of each stone building as they passed.

"What are you looking for?"

Aralle looked straight ahead, startled, into the green eyes of a young Enedwaith soldier. He had short blond hair and a clean shaven face, and his left hand held the pommel of his sword loosely.

"We are looking for the place where the prisoners are kept," Aralle told him. "We also don't know where the council is being held, and my friend from Rohan is long overdue."

The soldier smiled at Imarwyn, and bowed to her. "This is great tidings. We have had no voice from Rohan yet in our deliberations. I will take her to the council myself.

"As for the prisons . . . I have no idea what you need with them, but they're one block to your right."

"Thank-you," Aralle said, inclining her head to him.

Imarwyn laid her feet lightly against her horse's sides and the animal began to walk quickly up to the soldier. She followed him, disappearing moments later into the fog.

Aralle then turned, riding quickly in the direction the soldier had indicated. It wasn't long before they saw soldiers guarding the entrance. Five of them, watching closely.

"We shall not pass them so easily," Aralle said. She turned to look at Glimdrell, and transformed. "But they do not have watchers that can fly."

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell smiled gladly at that thought, indeed they were lucky being allied with a griffin in this war.

"You want me to do something?" He asked.

[Yodaman]

Liren packed her bags for the approaching quest. She knew she had an important part in this. That's why the Wizards chose her.
"Those Shadowhand fools", thought Liren. "They should've let me kill him sooner. Now I have to go on this stupid little quest and fake nice longer so they can get their man." She then thought about Theodur. He WAS a nice, attractive man. He was nice to her when she was depresed (well, it was faked, but still...) and always helped her out. It was as if they were in love.
"No", thought Liren. "I musn't think like that. I have to kill him. I HAVE TO KILL HIM NOW!" She then threw her bag across the room, and clothes scatterd everywhere.
"RAAAAAAAAAA!" yelled Liren. She then ran and picked up all the clothes rapidly. Just as she was putting the last of the clothes in, Theodur came out.
"My lady", said Theodur. "You better hurry up. The stablemen are getting impatient".
"Okay, okay", said Liren. She then sealed her bag and walked off with Theodur. Now was when she would snare her prey.

[Lief Erikson]

"You're the assassin. I'm going to need you to get them out."

Aralle grabbed Glimdrell and heaved herself upward into the air, using the sheer power of her wings. They were alone in the blanket of fog for several seconds, and then they descended again.

They were alone, on the roof of a small house.

"I'm not so skilled as you at this kind of thing," Aralle said, softly. "The rest of this will be up to you."

[Yodaman]

Theodur led Liren out of the halls of Edoras and into its stables. There were many horses and they were all being watched by one man- an old, scruffy man.
"What do you want?" yelled the old man.
"We want to depart with our horse", said Theodur.
"WHICH ONE?"
"The brown one".
"WHICH BROWN ONE?"
"LET ME PICK IT ORC BRAIN!" Theodur then pushed the old man out of the way and went to his horse, which was the very last one. He untied all the ropes and strattled on it.
"Come on!", Theodur told Liren. Liren then got on him and they left the stable.
"THAT WILL BE 10 EXTRA GOLD PEICES!", yelled the old man.
"Yeah, whatever", muttered Theodur. They then sped right out of the stable and into the wild, where their destiny would await them.

[Arat-Falathion]

Glimdrell nodded, his eyes sparkeling with an inner light. He pulled the surcoat about him and walked easily to the front end of the roof.

Five soldiers stood by the entrance door, ever alert to their surroundings. Glimdrell shook his head, the entrance was probably locked as well.

"I do not believe I will use the entrance... to many things could go wrong..." the elf said as he faced Aralle once more. He circled the roof from one end to the other, checking for any windows set on the house's three remaining walls, but found none.

He shook his head again, and sighed. "This will be harder then I thought!" Sitting down beside the griffin, he rested his head in his hands and stared about, thinking. There shouldn't be any stronghold he couldn't go through, no walls stopping him.

He paused his contemplation for a moment, and fixed his stare at the roofstones. Taking a firm grip on one of them, he jently janked it free without a sound. Aralle nodded sincerely. Soon the elf had cleared a small part of the roofs eastern top stones, just big enough a hole for the elf to slip through.

Glimdrell went head first into the hole, carefully, and tried to get an overview of the room inside. He saw four cells in a row on his left and two cells on his right, followed by a short walkway which ended by the entrance door. Beyond that, one more cell. It was dimly lit, the only lightsource being a flickering candle over the entrance door, but Glimdrells keen elven eyes penetrated the darkness. By the door he saw one guard standing with arms crossed over his chest and tapping his foot impatiently. The elf saw noone in the closest cells, the three furthest away was impossible to determine.

Glimdrell withdrew his head from the hole and nodded to Aralle, a slight smile appearing on his lips as he waved his goodbye. Feet first this time, the elf slipped through the hole and landed quietly on the dusty floor beneath. He tucked the magical surcoat around him and proned to the floor, nearly disapearing into his surroundings. Confirming that the guard hadn't noticed his entré, the elf slowly made his way over the floor, passing the two cells. He stopped and lay perfectly still there, at one with the floor by the walkway.

If he could only kill the lightsource the rest would go effortlessly the elf thought, if not... An idea came to Glimdrell then and he looked to his right, where the third cell stood. And his guess was right, in it sat one of the captives. Who, the elf did not know.

Glimdrell pulled a bit of his hood back, revealing his face to the man sitting inside, hoping he would notice him. Long he lay there in the same prone position, hoping that the captives eyes would fall upon him, and they did...

The man cried out in terror, seeing the elven face laying on the stone.

"Hey! Shut your mouth!" The guard yelled.

"But I, but... I... I saw a dead face on the floor!!" the man stammered frightenly.

"What? Where?"

"There!" The man said, pointing at the spot he had seen the elf, but quickly withdrew his hand, noticing the face was gone.

"You must be mad!" the guard cried.

A knock on the door resounded, and a guards eyes from outside appeared in a small hole on the door which opened in eyelevel.

"Any problems?" the guard on the outside asked.

"No, the prisoners thinks he saw a ghost."

The guards on the outside laughted and shut the hole.

Inside, the guard drew his sword and walked over to the cell. "You do not make such a joke again, or I'll cut you a nice scare on your face!" The guard pointed his sword at the prisoner, and suddenly the captives' eyes widened in terror. "Yes, you better know who you are dealing wi..."

Glimdrells dagger dug hungrily into the mans throat, cutting the guards word in midsentence, silenced by death. The guards outstretched arm holding the sword went limp, loosing its grip on the weapon.

"Take it!" Glimdrell whispered to the prisoner. "Quickly!"

Too late. The sword hit the floor with an unmistakably resound in the stonebuilt house. Glimdrell quickly withdrew his dagger and let the corpse fall limply to the floor, causing quite a lot of noice once again. Up came Glimdrells sabre in his other hand as he jumped for cover in the ceiling.

Four guards came storming into the room, armed with swords and spears. Running feet could be heard on the outside, caused by the fifth guard, and the unmistakable sound of wings against air...

[Yodaman]

Thorondor woke up and found himself in a room. He tried to get up, but that was prevented by a group of chains on his wings. He looked at his body and saw that his whole body was bound in chains so that he couldn't move any parts except his mouth and eyes. He then heard a pitter-patter sound in the room and saw an orc-thing come towards him.

"So", said the orc-thing. "Thorondor, isn't it?" Thorondor then tried to spit at the orc but the spit ended up landing on his own body. The orc then laughed hysterically.

"Pathetic", said the orc-thing. He then drew out a long, sharp, rusty blade and held it to Thorondor's throat.

"You think that can stop me?" exclaimed Thorondor.

"Yes", said the orc thing. "I can". He then reached to Thorondor's wing and plucked a feather from his body.

"You see this?" saiad the orc-thing. "This is the first of many that will be plucked from your body one by one by one". He then reached to shove the feather down Thorondor's throat but Thorondor bit his hand off in defiance.

[Yodaman]

Thorondor woke up and found himself in a room. He tried to get up, but that was prevented by a group of chains on his wings. He looked at his body and saw that his whole body was bound in chains so that he couldn't move any parts except his mouth and eyes. He then heard a pitter-patter sound in the room and saw an orc-thing come towards him.

"So", said the orc-thing. "Thorondor, isn't it?" Thorondor then tried to spit at the orc but the spit ended up landing on his own body. The orc then laughed hysterically.

"Pathetic", said the orc-thing. He then drew out a long, sharp, rusty blade and held it to Thorondor's throat.

"You think that can stop me?" exclaimed Thorondor.

"Yes", said the orc thing. "I can". He then reached to Thorondor's wing and plucked a feather from his body.

"You see this?" saiad the orc-thing. "This is the first of many that will be plucked from your body one by one by one". He then reached to shove the feather down Thorondor's throat but Thorondor bit his hand off in defiance.

"MISERABLE BEAST!" yelled the orc-thing. Thorondor then sreached so loudly that all of Middle-Earth basically heard it. The orc then drew the rusty blade and poked Thorondor's eye out. He then got a bottle of some poison and poured it over Thorondor's wounded eye slit.

"That's what you get for defying the will of Shadowhand", said the orc-thing. He then left Thorondor alone. Thorondor then cried himself to sleep.

[Tessar]

Hoof beats marked the companies passage under a pale, pre-dawn sky, a gentle wind swirling old leaves that covered the ground and covering the parties' tracks... to a small extent any ways.

Riding her horse to each member of the group one at a time, Elise set about questioning them. Mainly she asked about their lives leading up to when she first met them. With varying amounts of willingness from each person, she was able top draw out a good deal of information. Aasinav had been a very bad mistake, and she would not make that same mistake again.

Malagar she left alone. She knew his past. He was of little interest to her, but she trusted him in a strange way, and that was a small comfort. The only person she trusted more was herself, which made her list of true allies very, very small. But she had worked with less, and in harder situations. It seemed that her time here on middle earth might be drawing to a close soon, but at the least not before this task was done.



(OOC: If anyone would like, they can RP Elise asking them some questions, or we could skip right ahead to the finding our friends part )

[Earniel]

The fairhaired soldier led Imarwyn through the fog, away from Aralle and Glimdrell. A little further, a large building rose from out the mist in front of them.

"This is where the council is held." announced Imarwyn's guide. He walked over to the entrance and knocked on the door. Another man, dressed in the Enedwaith uniform answered the door and asked the young soldier his business.

"A messenger from Rohan has arrived. She wishes to speak at the council."

The doorkeeper looked in surprise at the Rohirrim-woman. "We did not expect one to come anymore," he said, "But you are all the more welcome, my lady. Please follow me, I will take you to the council."

Imarwyn nodded and decended.

The young soldier carefully took the reigns of Merrah. "I will take care of your horse, my lady."

Imarwyn wasn't entirely happy to be seperated from her horse but nodded. "Thank you, where will you take her?"

"There is a stable just around the corner where all the horses of the representatives are kept. She is in good hands there."

"Very well. You won't have to tie her down, she's well trained."

"I would believe so," said the young soldier looking in awe at the horse. "She must be one of the most beautiful horses I have ever seen." He said softly.

Imarwyn smiled at his praise and with a quick rub over Merrah's forehead and a nod to the soldier she said goodbye and entered the building.

[Lief Erikson]

The guard just began to cry out for help, but he never got the words out. Something struck him from behind and he was clipped neatly down by the griffin, before making it more than a few steps out of the guard house.

Aralle looked down again, quickly wiping the blood from her beak with a paw. She could cover the exit, she hoped. Any interior fighting she could not handle. It was up to Glimdrell, all of it. He wasn't trained for battle, but this was the kind of mission he was used to.

"Come on," she groaned, anxiously. "Show your mettle."

[Lief Erikson]

The council was in full session.

The general Grifwold was leaned forward in his chair, debating with a couple other generals, Lemawin and Fwahal. Four other important generals were seated in the room, along with Dagankor.

Dagankor felt something move within the spirit realm at the same moment his other two Shadowhand wizards did. The two of them were on the outside guarding this place, protecting it from unwelcome intruders. Apparently they had just encountered one.





The air was sucked from Imarwyn's lungs as she walked, and it would not return. The doorkeeper struck her in the forehead with his right hand, knocking her smoothly to the floor. Another spell rippled from his fingers, but Imarwyn finally was reacting to the sudden attack.

She kicked upward and her foot hit the man's hand, jerking his aim off course. A silver blade of visible energy missed her and hit the wall, smashing stones free from their lodging places.

Blackness was already beginning to fill Imarwyn's vision. There had been no need for the attempted killing spell. Air was still being tugged at from her lungs, even though there was none left. The spell was killing her.

Imarwyn's body was weakening swiftly, and her vision was almost gone. There was nothing but blackness- her eyes were beginning to roll back.

No! This was death. She still barely could feel her own body.

Imarwyn slipped her knife from her sheath, managing to focus again. She threw it.

A scream burst from the throat of her attacker, and air was suddenly available again to Imarwyn's lungs.

She gasped for breath, her hands clutching the stone steps beneath her, hard. Glancing down again, she caught sight of the attacking wizard, her knife buried in his arm. He was howling over the pain, and the door behind them was bursting open, the stairway filling with people.