[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Evren knew she had asked to come along, but now she wasn’t sure. Perhaps I should have stayed with the men, helped them fight... but I’m being helpful here too. They need messengers. And I’ll come back with those who are sent for help. If they don’t let me, I’ll sneak along. I’ve done it once, I’ll do it again, she thought stubbornly, walking along the path with those other two, Pherdur and the one with the long name... Donla-something. She hoisted up her pack onto her back. She’d left her horse at the edge of the wood, but it wasn’t safe to go back and get him. The orcs were camped near there... she shuddered to think of what would happen to her favorite steed.
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Herlion moved again, then moaned. He felt as though he had been thrown onto a hot furnace and was being pressed down to it, rolled and molded with giant rollers. He could just barely crawl, but he did so, hoping to at least find Iavas or somebody he knew in the group of villagers, all nursing their wounds. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a sudden movement. He turned to look, painfully aware of the effort it took him to turn his head. It was Georelelia, running out the door. He could see another woman being thrown to the ground by an orc. He felt happy for Georelelia, for a moment. And then another thought crossed his mind.They will catch her… she will not get out. They will beat her, and she will die. He did not feel happy for Georelelia anymore. But he knew that she had made the right choice. They would die anyway, all of them… and better quickly than the ways probably readied for them when they could no longer work. Herlion made a huge effort, leant down, and began to crawl towards the door.
* * *
Nobody was watching… he was out. But the effort had left him so exhausted that he dropped to the ground, managed to roll off the path, landing in some leaves, and flickered back out of consiousness.
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Oghurn strode into the room, confident, as he never was with the bigger orcs, that none could hurt him, that he could have his own way, that he didn’t need his wits just then. It felt such a pleasure to simply use force, give a kick one way, a punch in another. The villagers shrunk to the walls whenever he passed, squeezing themselves as small as they could. And they were witnessing a rare occurance. Oghurn was having fun.

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: GaladrieloftheOlden ]

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]