[Imladris]

Weeds clutched with their sickly fingers at his mount's flank, thorns raked his leg -- behind him he could hear Ravion pound behind him.

In moments he caught up to the women. Gwyllion was slumped between two of them, half her left leg missing (it looked as if it had been chewed off -- Aeron stifled his stomach's uneasy lurch)...her clothes were torn, her cheeks pale, as if all life had been sucked from them, a red blotch stained her blouse -- a red stain

Time slowed, the dagger faltered in his fingers. His breathing was squeezed by a throttling fist of fear and anger. Gwyllion wasn't asleep -- she was...de -- NO...injured. Not dead. Her head lolled backwards....her eyes were still open.

He locked his eyes on hers. And then he knew. They were fixed. Lifeless. Even the reflection of terror was beginning to fade like morning mist. They were just...eyes. Shallow. Dim. Dead.

"NO! You filthy little --" he screamed, a torrent of curses flooding from his mouth upon the elf's head. He tumbled from his horse, trembling with rage. The golden haired lady stumbled and limped feverishly onwards. A merlock, splashing through the swamp drew ever closer to the woman.

Aeron dived as well as he could in the sloshy ground towards the girl, brandishing his dagger in front of the merlock. The merlock's face was twisted in cruel arrogance, he licked his lips like a hungry cur. Aeron dodged the Merlock's graps, and plunged his dagger into it.