[CaptainofDespair]

All was silent...

The chirps of the birds, the singing of the wind in the trees, and the heavy breathes of the earth, were all still, almost dead. It was as if nature was sparing a moment of silence, a moment for those souls that would perish on the battlements of the mountain. It was the calm before the storm.

Then, as if to break the silence out of spite, an orc horn blew in the distance, from Gundabad. The orc leadership was mustering all the available forces, and preparing last minute checks on the battlements. As this was occurring, a troop of orcs moved into a position that would obstruct enemy access to the main gate. Various obscenities were being screamed, in both Westron and Black Speech. The orc commanders were hoping to ‘inspire’ their grunts, and obtain a quick, and easy victory.

Meanwhile, across the field, the Gondorian camp was alight with activity. Various squads moved about, preparing to march forward, to face the orc threat. The small contingent of cavalry was preparing to ride out, and perform a sweep operation, to flush out a potential ambush. The officers, and the Northmen were all concentrating on last minute procedure and equipment checks, or executing various other duties.

Uther sat alone, having confined himself to his tent, until the column would be ready to move out. With him however, were his prized wolf-hounds, Ithil and Anor. They groaned lazily, knowing full well what was about to happen. They had been on previous campaigns with their master, and had seen some combat. Though, they were mostly along for moral support. “Yes boys, it’s about time,” Uther chimed. Both of the dogs yawned, and stretched out across the bear-skin rug they had made into their home. But as Uther was about to reach down to pet them, a sergeant pulled back a tent flap, and stuck his head in. “Milord, the column is assembled. We await your orders.” Uther nodded, adding “ Thank you, sergeant. I will be out shortly to address the soldiers.” As the veteran commander watched the man leave, he grabbed his helmet, and placing it upon his head, smiled to his pets.

At the same time as Uther was leaving his tent, the cavalry detachment returned, bearing good news. The sergeant in charge was quick to find his commander in the makeshift stables, who was mounting his warhorse. “Milord, we completed the search. We found two platoons of orcs in the trees, and routed them as quickly as possible, and forced them away from the intended field of battle.” Uther looked down at his underling, as he seated himself on his steed. “Excellent. Now prepare to ride out into battle,” the lieutenant replied, with a slight smirk.

The column was assembled at the gate, with the cavalry having taken the lead. Uther rode up ahead, and stopped, turning his horse around to face his men. He let a short silence seep through the ranks, until he felt it appropriate to speak. The hot breathe of his men could be seen rising from the cluster, swirling into the air, until it evaporated, overtaken by the cold. “We stand on the edge of destruction. The battle is unavoidable, now, and thus we must fight. We are outnumbered, but that will not decide the outcome. No, our courage and honor will!” The soldiers clashed their shields and swords together, in a unanimous vote of confidence. Then the aged commander spoke again. “Our enemies, the orcs, think they are better than us, but they are mistaken. They hold out, believing their numbers will give them victory. But death will be their only reward. I think it would be polite to help them along!” At this, the men cheered again, thrusting their weapons into the air. “Now, we go to battle. But fight not for Gondor, or for the King, but for yourselves. This is your hour, relish it, and be victorious!” One last hurrah came from the column, and then it began the march out onto the field, to face the orcs.