[Manelwen]

It wasn't his strong point, and Narcis knew it; so did Thrakatburtz. He was tall and strong but his speed wasn't quite up to par with the orc. It didn't matter he would win anyways.

The orc charged just as the bindings were taken from his wrists. He had time to reach out and lean down over the orc as his shoulder connected with Keldin's stomach. The air was pushed from his stomach, and he grunted as he grabbed the orc's belt and tossed him like garbage over his shoulder, to land ungracefully in the mud; but when was an orc graceful?

With a rueful smile, Keldin pushed the orc's face into the mud with the heel of his boot. Narcis' foot whipped out and swiped his feet from under him. Keldin landed and quicker than he could blink, the orc was sitting on his stomach, driving his big fist into his face. He bit back a cry as the fist crushed his nose, and blinking through the pain, reached his hands up and slapped the palms of his hands against his ears hard enough to burst his ear drums. The orc let out a blood-curdling scream and grabbed his head, the blood trickling from his torn, pointed ears.

Gaining the upper hand, the large elf quickly rolled, pinning the orc under him. Grabbing his hands, Keldin pinned them under his knees so his hands would be free and grabbed a fist full of his greasy hair. He drove Narcis’ head into the soft ground, all though it would do little damage. Balling his fist, he brought it back and drove it into his skull with all his might and power. The foul creature grunted on contact but went limp as Keldin’s fist connected and crushed his face like the mud that surrounded them.

Keldin stood to his full height, the crowd was silent as the bloodied elf slowly stalked towards the tent. He burst in, to see Thrakatburtz sitting in a chair, facing a battered wraith that resembled a human; it was Elrond. “Die.” He growled before he ran forward, raising his fist over his head to strike the witch. With a simple flick of her wrist, he flew through the air, as if he had been hit by some unknown force, he landed against a large pole in the center, where he had left Narcis’ body. He slumped down, dazed and winded to see the dark elf walk towards him, her face a mask of rage and hate that was liberated from the cage of her self-discipline. “Die.” He muttered again before he let go of his tight grasp on reality and fell into the black, cold and unpleasant void of unconsciousness.

“Tie him to that pole and let the carrion fowl pick his eyes out.” She snarled her orders to a by-standing troupe of orcs that stood, wide-eyed, and shaking with fear.


This is a little off of the timeline of the story, but I have been busy and unable to come to see what is going on...sorry...