[piosenniel]

‘Swords down, step back!’ Rôg raised up his head and looked toward the ragged line of Orcs and their would-be executioners. The men did not respond at once to the Elf’s command. Their eyes, instead, seemed to flick from one to another and linger then with a certain distaste on the Orc males. Rôg’s own eyes slid up with a quick glance to see how his two captors were taking in the threat Lindir had made to them. Taking in their appearance and attire he wondered what sort of unpleasantness anyone might think could exceed that which they had already endured.

‘You . . . man,’ the fiercer one had hissed at Rôg. ‘Are we done now? They going to do what that loud one tells ‘em?’

‘I don’t know,’ he spoke low. He dared a small, warm smile up at the more nervous of the Orcs. ‘I think you’re right, though,’ he went on quickly, to the other one. He lumbered up to his feet, making it look as if it took an effort to do so. ‘I’ll make the first move.’

He took a few stumbling steps away from his captors, waving his arms in the air to show he was no longer held. The hesitation previously seen by him seemed to fade away as he drew nearer. Some of the men stepped forward to lend him support and others of the fellowship stepped away from the Orc captives, their knives no longer threatening. Though, not all put away their blades altogether. What the Orcs were doing, he could not say. His view of them was blocked as some of his companions gathered about him.

Somewhere to his left, an anxious and insistent voice called out loudly. The attention of the group turned toward the source as they struggled to sort out the reasons for such alarm.....