The Lord of the Rings: The Song Unsung » Places

         Amaranth stared at Valinor for a moment and noticed his attention was on something else. She followed his gaze but didn't see anything. He looked very focused on whatever it was that he was, so she decided to drop her near demand for the moment. Despite not being able to see whatever had the wraith's attention, she had an odd feeling and a chill went down her spine. Shrugging the feeling off as much as she could, she moved to place most the weight on one leg before she gazed at each of the others.
Gavin pulled out his weapon and swung it a bit before looking at a trail in front of them. Before he spoke, Amaranth could tell he wanted to push on. As he spoke of fighting on higher ground and a nook, she looked to Rala and Bern to see their reaction.

Bernadette seemed to agree with the dwarf, for she grabbed her things and started following after him. Though Amaranth still didn't think it was a good idea to push on through the night, she hoped that they would have enough sense to find a place of rest, and soon.

The sun slowly died as they continued their travels, but the hobbit decided to go her own pace and try to relax a little. It was the time of day when she normally had to work the most in the Dancing Pony, but tonight, it was hers to enjoy. A gentle breeze made the trip more bearable, as did the moons appearance when the sun had vanished. Despite not worrying about being behind the others, she was grateful that Rala had decided to walk at her pace. With such long legs, she knew that is must feel odd for the elf, which made her wonder why the woman had slowed down. Never the less, she did not question the elf. She had heard of them being wise, which meant that the woman had her own reasons for doing so.

Luckily, it wasn't long before Bernadette found a clearing and set her bag down, along with her spear. Amaranth gave a long sigh of relief as she set her bag down on the other side of Bernadette. The weight off her shoulders was a relief, however they still ached as if the weight of the bag remained on them. Her eyes slowly moved to the dead tree Bern had picked, but she ignored it. She was too tired to wonder why it was in such a horrible condition.

While Bern used her strength to brake off branches from the dead tree, Amaranth looked around for some already on the ground. She knew she didn't really have the strength of the others, so she improvised. Not taking more than a few steps in each direction of the tree, the hobbit managed to find a few dead limbs, which she gathered and tossed on top of the pile Bern had made.

Moving back to her bag, she opened it and pulled out an apple. It looked very large in the hobbit's hands, though it was a standard sized apple. She sighed, as if she didn't even have the energy to eat. However, she took a bite and was mesmerized by the taste. There was nothing special about the apple, and she had eaten plenty of her share in the Shire. However, due to her long journey and the day that was now coming to an end, the apple was something special for her taste buds.

Her eyes moved to Bernadette, as she attempted to make conversation with the group. The hobbit finished her apple quickly, while listening to Gavin speak of what he used to be. Once he was done, it seemed there was only silence to speak to them. So, Amaranth decided it was her turn, since Bernadette had asked her as well as the others.

"I ain't ever seen a dragon, so I don't think I can be one." She snickered before stretching a little bit before leaning back against the dead tree.
"I am but a simple hobbit; child from the Shire." She paused for a second and thought of why she might have been asked to accompany them, but she herself was still unsure. Instead, she decided to speak of the old days- the days she missed dearly.
"In the Shire, I knew Mr. Bilbo and Mr. Frodo. Growin up, I listened to stories of adventures and travels. No farm life would do for meh. I learned music, and was good at it. Mr. Bilbo told me about bards he had met and I became one. Not sure why I was asked to join ya'll, but Mr. Gandalf asked me to help out Frodo. We ain't blood, but he's meh family." She paused, her face full of sorrow that she felt for the man she knew. Her mind drifted to wonder how he was doing, while praying for his safety.

She suddenly realized she had been quiet for a few too many minutes and forced a large smile at the others. "Either way, I'm here to stay. T'is hobbit ain't giving up." She stated proudly, her smile becoming genuine.

To continue conversation, since it let her get to know everyone, she looked to Bern. "How about you, Miss Bernadette? Why'd you come along on this journey?"

         Slowly the three which took the front began to form a defensive circle. The long sweeps of Gavin's enormous blade, if indeed it could even be called that, were followed up but the aggressive thrusts of Bernadette's spear. The orcs were kept wary of charging any slight openings by the cold and precise slashEs of Valinor. Kavrala stood off to the side a bit, defending the hobbit while the green skinned filth kept their attention on these three, though that didn't mean she was without a tally here. Indeed, more than a handful of orcs had mistaken her or her new charge as a victim, stumbling back with a grubby hand clasped around it's bleeding throat. Valinor had counted around nine kills under his belt, with the warrior woman at his side right behind him. Gavin? Hard to tell, seeing as the majority of his victims were left a messy paste upon the ground. The results of his weapon were equal parts effective, and horrifying. A hammer that's disguised as a sword. Only a dwarf...

Behind the shrieks and battle cries, ragged bowstrings, made from the guts and rawhide of fallen warbeasts, creeks and whines as a filth ridden hand pulls it taught. Beedy eyes aim down the sights of a notched arrow, it's jagged head barely poking through the leaves. Disgusting lips crack open in a heinous grin of broken teeth, the arrow ready to let fly. As sudden as a clap of thunder, the sun is blotted out. An ear-piercing screech marks Durhnoram's dive, his talons reaching after their squat bodies with lightning speed. Another cry of the Great Eagle as with a single beat of his wings he takes flight again, two flailing orcs in each clawed foot. Arcing high, he casts the twisted creatures out towards the rapids of the Loudwater. The orcs begin to scatter, seeking shelter from the Bird of Prey.

They were not but a small raiding party, expecting a quick skirmish to catch their foes off-guard and easily overwhelmed. Gandalf had chose well, for though they bickered and argued, these four had been fighters. Warriors, whose prowess came instinctual. In times of combat, they were quick to form up, to ignore their grievances. Whether for vengeance, anger, the will to survive, or the drive to be victorious. They were fighters, and little more. True, these were volatile individuals. Each with a vice which may or may not have outweighed their virtue, but if they could band together, if they could not destroy each other..... Then maybe they could stand against the tide. A thorn in the side of Sauron, which may become a dagger in time. And Amaranth? She had her own role to play in this, one that was equally as paramount. One that she would find when it came of need.

The orcs regrouped, finding their nerve once more. Valinor's armor glowed with a cold air and foreboding menace, but these little bastards had apparently found a spine, for they were not having any of it. His gauntleted hand tugged at an arrow in his cuirass, one of only three which struck hard enough to pierce. Thankfully the iron of Mordor was not known for it's quality. With a skillful flick of his blade, he sliced them off at the shafts. The less things pestering him, the better. He raised his sword, letting it catch a beam of sunlight. It's dark steel refused to glint as he brought it back down before him in a low guard. His foot slid back, bracing him in preparation to receive. The orcs screeched again, making their charge. It was short lived.

The air filled with the glint of white-gold and mithril. Arrows materialised from out of the foliage, striking as sudden as a storm. Orcs fell limp all around, feathered fletchings sticking from their lifeless bodies. As soon as the wave of arrows had begun, it ended. If any had blinked, they may have missed the whole event. They were dead. Every single orc, gone. Valinor made the mistake of moving away from the group, strolling over to the remains with a morbid curiosity. "Well... That went better than expec-" he was cut off by a quiver-full of elven arrows piercing into his back. Through the branches and leaves, the figures of Elven archers could be seen encroaching to continue their attack.

"Hold your fire!" Durhnoram's voice boomed from above. The fallen leaves kicking up and dancing on the gusts from his landing. "You strike at one of our party." The Great Eagle stepped between the Elves and Valinor as the wraith composed himself. This was not so much for Valinor's safety as it was to stop his retaliation. One of the elves betrayed his rank as leader, raising a hand as the others lowered their bows. "You make... strange allies. I would not have thought those of Grey Pilgrim's choosing would travel with such a dark creature." "Why don't you step closer if you are to accuse me..." the son of Casllion hissed, taking an aggressive stride towards the elf. A large feathered wing shot out, blocking his bath. The stern gaze of Durhnoram clashed against the wrathful one of Valinor before the shade stood down. Forcefully sheathing his sword in a huff, Valinor merely stood back away from his antagonists.

"Strange times call for friends from whencesoever they come." The Elf and the Wraith once more exchange glances, before the archer's arrow finally was returned to it's quiver. "Then I suppose I owe an apology for not arriving sooner. We have been trailing the orcs since they first came down from the Ettenmoors. To evade us, the burrowed underground through the spider tunnels which unfortunately lace these woods. This was... quite clever of them. I would say too clever. It seems that the dark forces have taken notice of you." Durhnoram grimaced. It would appear that the plan was working almost too well, but then this was expected. He looked back to the others.

"Well then, we should be off before more foes are drawn here. Make ready to travel, for we must depart."