[Aiwyn of the Eorlingas]

Sighing, Ain looked towards the sound of the oncoming creatures. Only one thought crossed her mind: 'Not again...'
She looked at the warriors around her: they were tired and wounded. She herself was not feeling up to fighting either; her arrows were depleted and her shoulder ached, and her hands were too cramped to hold her Quarterstaff, much less fight. She ran her hands over the back of her stallion who stood near her.
"I know not where your leader is," she said, still not considering herself part of the group, "but we would be wise to find him-find him swiftly."
A few of the females began to draw their weapons, but Ain shot them an icy, withering glare.
"Do not be fools! Thee would not strike fear into the heart of a hobbit-brat, armed mearly with a stick now, much less a second assault of orcs."
"But our honor-" one Elf began, but honorwas a tabooed word to Ain.
"To the fire with it!" she barked. "Fine! Stay and fight another battle of impossible odds." She glanced at Bulvard, who still seemed weak, before looking back at the women. "I know not how thee could hope to win now. And thy rouge assassin still lurks in the shadows, out there, somewhere."
The orcs were getting closer. Time was running out. Ain mounted Staa and grabbed his simple rope reins as the proud stallion tossed his mahogany head.
"I am fleeing now," she said. "If there is a sensible one among thee, I bid thou to ride with me, and bring me to thy leader, wherever he may be." She motioned to the space behind her, where there was room for one more person to fit. "Thou would much rather acheive honor at the completion of thy quest, aye? Not die at the hands of orcs for refusing to flee, for fleeing would be 'dishonorable'. Preserve thy life; there will be plenty of chance still for thee to lose it in a more fitting fasion." She dropped her cold voice for a moment to further the rationality of her words.
It worked. The Elves put away their weapons, the rationality finally becoming apparent to them, and those with horses mounted them swiftly. Those without them shared with another, and quickly, they fled from the second assault, barely escaping, but escaping none the less.
"Where is your leader?" Ain called to Gwyn.
"I know not," Gwyn called back
And so, the party set off on a new sub-quest: the hunt for Calixto.