Retracing steps

[tomcat]

OOC: The following narrative is a compilation of your posts and the morning post I made under the Stillness... until dawn? thread, plus some new narrative added. Enjoy...

The night passed with the Company fervently watching for any signs of the Enemy, but none showed themselves. The morning came gray and foggy on the west side of the Misty Mountains and all hoped that the sun would burn off the gloom once it was able to surmount the peaks. So the companions broke down their bedrolls and prepared the horses while a bit of food was prepared, the wispy fog clinging to the eaves and branches of the tall pines. It was cool and clammy and very silent. Except for the worry of any Enemy presence, the world would have seemed quite serene and quite beautiful.



Because of the closeness of the air, there was very little conversation over their breakfast, and what there was, was hushed. Once finished, the break of camp was completed and the Company mounted.

Durgil: Still concerned about the previous night, Durgil resolved to check out the remains of the Orc's campsite. "I, for one, would like to know where our shadows trailed off to. Would any care to join me? It shouldn't take too long."

Fengel: "I suppose it would be in our best interest to investigate that camp. I'll go with you Durgil." Fengel jumped upon Heostor and looked to Dirnhael for approval.

Dirnhael: Dirnhael nodded, but was reticent about leaving the two men exposed and away from the rest of the Company. But while the Company looked to Dirnhael for leadership, he was not their master - they were always free to do as they will. "Be careful, my friends," he said. "Observe from afar, if possible - I have no desire to lose either of you to an ambush."

Nain: Jethro was unusually eager to get out of this forsaken place. Nain knew this because there was almost no hint of the usual stubbornness that he usually had in spades. The packing went quickly and Nain was mounted and waiting by the path to Hollin before the Men had suggested scouting the town. He was not happy about the idea. He knew that it would be safer to know more about what had been there, but yet he had no wish to volunteer for that trip. He waited on Jethro for the rest to decide what they would do.

Durgil moved across the river plain towards the small ruined town, his eyes ever vigilant on the horizon around him. The gray morning and the looming fog did not help matters, but nothing seemed to stir in the oppressing quiet. The sound of Fengel approaching was a comfort to the Dúnadan and the two crossed the near mile distance to enter again into the remnants of what had to be a village of mountain-folk. Surely it could be nothing else as the Dúnedain had abandoned this region years past and the Eriadorians had followed. There were again settlements in Cardolan of these once great folk, but none this far east, was there?

They passed what had once been a barn and the duo, along with their horses, suddenly panicked as a spooked quail burst from its hiding place to take flight in the cool spring air. Durgil and Fengel exchanged looks and a slight laugh as they calmed their mounts, and each made a silent request of the other to stay alert.

The horses' hooves were soon clopping on cobbled stones laid in the road, most likely by the Dúnedain hands that had laboured here long before, and the two Men rode up to the fire ring. The fire had consumed most of the fuel that the... Orcs? had fed it and now only some glowing embers and wispy traces of smoke remained. They dismounted and Fengel took a position to watch over both, bow and arrow in hand, while Durgil inspected the ground.

The tracks were very clear in the soft mud of the river valley, both heavy shodded feet and the clear footprints of large clawed beasts. Yes, it had clearly been Orcs round the fire last night, but to where had they gone off? And did they know of the passing of the Company? Durgil decided to try and figure this mystery out.

He motioned to Fengel to mount back up and the two followed the trail left by the pack, a fresh trail that headed east towards the mountain range and the fir covered highlands. Because of the randomness of the pack, the Dúnadan scout could not perceive a definitive number of the Enemy, neither Orc nor Warg, but by the trail's width it had to be a substantial count.

The two continued their search for a good part of the morning, while the other companions waited at the campsite, following the trail until it came to rougher terrain. About one half mile east of the town, the land began to rise and in many places the bare sandstone broke through the soft soil and made for two things: a much harder road for the horses, and a harder time keeping the trail of their quarry. Worst of all, the two were perilously alone and distant from any aid. It was time to consider their course.

It could be assumed that the Orcs never knew the presence of the Company and they had made their way off to their domain in the mountains as the evening passed. But then it could also be assumed that the hunters were the hunted and the Enemy was watching them from higher ground... and how easy it would be to pick off pieces at a time, especially if they were off from the Company in ones or twos.

It struck Durgil that though his Elven companions, with their far-seeing eyes were probably watching them right now, they could offer little urgent aid.

OOC: What are your actions...

[Palandil]

The tracks of Orc and Warg were not a welcome sight, though at least they were sure of possible danger and could be a little more prepared if ambushed.  Looking once more around Fengel says to Durgil, "We should get back quickly and tell the others.  We will have to be cautious in our travel now."  Turning his steed back towards the camp he prods Heostor on.

[GandalfOfBorg]

Durgil agreed.  He spurred Rochithuin around and headed back to camp at a pace much quicker than the one taken to get to where they stopped.

- - - - -

Upon return, Durgil reported what they had found and didn't find.  "... at worst our presence is known, maybe even our number, so we should keep to lands that offer ourselves the best chance to maneuver and defend if we have to ere we cross an overwhelming force."

Turning to Seriand, "You wouldn't happen to have any idea if others of your people are scouting these lands in case of dire need?"

[tomcat]

The Warg stared hatefully down at the two riders as they turned their mounts to ride away - the great beast was hidden within the fir trees not ninety-feet away. It had a gnawing desire to rush down upon them and howl in its companions, but Graush had forbade it; there was to be no contact until he chose the time, only observation of the interlopers.

When the two riders were well distant of possibly hearing, the Warg lifted itself off of its haunches and moved off through the brush and fern scrub that covered the ground. It did not close but it maneuvered so as to always keep the riders in sight. Fengel and Durgil were now speedily racing their horses back south and east over the river plain towards a stretch of the same line of hills that the Warg was on, but where the Men and their companions had made camp.

The duo soon disappeared out of sight, in the tree line that grew along the hills, but that did not concern the Warg... there was no Man or beast that could escape its scent. He would maneuver quietly around to the other side of the hills and pick back up on their trail. The Warg quickened its pace.

OOC: Continue with any actions or rp'ing that you will... when I see that the group is ready, I will move the rest of the narrative above down to continue our story and bring you to the mountain spur that is the north eastern most edge of Hollin.

[sdrotar]

Upon return, Durgil reported what they had found and didn't find.  "... at worst our presence is known, maybe even our number, so we should keep to lands that offer ourselves the best chance to maneuver and defend if we have to ere we cross an overwhelming force."

"So be it," Dirnhael said. "We will camp when a suitable defensive position presents itself. Whether that be at afternoon's light or under the cover of darkness, we will be shielded when we rest."

They were being tracked, then. It was best to assume nothing else. The attack would come; it was only a matter of time - time that their enemies could use to gather strength, and the attack would come at a time of their choosing.

Unless they could do something about that...

Stroking his scruffy chin, Dirnhael looked deep in thought for a moment, and then spoke quietly in a voice no more than a conspiratorial whisper.
"Our foes will mass for an attack, but we can combat that somewhat. They will need a rally point - and they would naturally meet at a point upon our expected route."

He looked around, and gazed at Seriand, the most experienced tracker of the group.
"We must make our route... something... less than expected."

"Double back, circle around, whatever it may take to make our path unpredictable while still making for the mountains' spur. All the while, we can fan out slightly; scout both ahead and behind - and perhaps take the measure of our pursuers."

Dirnhael had never chosen to fight when one could be avoided, and perhaps this one still could be. Their Elven companion had literally thousands of years' experience in the field, and they may yet be able to evade their enemies.

But if they were not, and it came to steel and sinew to carry the day, Dirnhael would fight to the last - but on his terms.

[tomcat]

They rode down from the hilltop and out of the thick fir forest onto a plain of rolling grasslands. In the far distance, a spur of the mountains could be seen that stemmed off the range to their left and intersected their course. They would need to pass over that spur, but they would not be reaching it until the end of the days travel, or at some point tomorrow.

Seriand recognized this natural landmark, it was the last barrier they would cross over before entering the eastern lands of Eregion, what Men called Hollin. The Sindar announced this fact and the look on Edrahil's face changed to one of anticipation. Soon they would be walking in what was once one of the fairest realms in Middle-earth.

Seriand: Ever watchful Seriand continued to peer off in all directions as they began their journey that day. The Elven scout was used to being on guard for days on end as he usually traveled alone, having no allies to be a second pair of eyes.  Pointing out to the mountain in the distance he informed the rest of the party of their route. "Once we are across that range there, our travels should ease and we should make much better time."



The sun did finally rise above the mountains but was unable to break through the cloudy day and gave off only a wan light. The cloud's themselves did not shower down any rain, but instead made for the Company a grey, clammy spring day's travel.