Dawn was close. Angelnarth stooped from atop his galloping horse as his hand reached for the flask of water that was hanging by the saddle. He took a quick, restless look at his surroundings, though it was still way too dark for his eyesight to be of much use, as he raised the flask to his mouth and emptied it to sate his thirst. That was the last of his water for the moment.
Amon Sul lied almost half a day behind him by now as he was riding toward the easternmost areas of the Lone Lands, but nevertheless, his search had only proved completely fruitless up to this point. None of those he asked in Bree knew of any man named Brulk , or even recognized anyone by the description Angelnarth has provided. Same for the patrons of the Forsaken Inn. Angelnarth was now losing his hope over this pursuit.
Furthermore, the Dunadan's mind bore doubts over this task, and more importantly over his target. What was he to meet, once he tracked down the Hillman; would it be the man he knew so far, his brother in arms, or was Brulk now a mere fugitive, an enemy who posed threat for everything that Angelnarth has fought for. Only the Sellsword could give him the answer, but Angelnarth was by the time at the ready for anything. Albeit, at the bottom of his heart, he wished more than anything for the man's true innocence. For Angelnarth bore some love in his heart for everyone that he found worthy of it, even one with the ways and demeanor of Brulk Half-Sight.
The darkness of the night had finally begun to dissolve as the twilight made its magnificent arrival to the eastern sky that lied in front of his path. The knight could not help but turn his attention and behold the vivid colors of the brilliance between the moon and stars, combining with the reflection of the forthcoming sunlight. Even with the presence of a few clouds, the sight was indeed majestic.
And it was then, by the first time since his departure that he paid his attention to anything but his mission, that luck finally smiled on him. For as his eyes turned at the sky, there, Angelnarth soon noticed a very faint line of smoke to the south of his current position, not too far away from the road. The Dunadan knew the area well. Numerous sets of ruins lied toward that direction, surrounded by shallow marshes. A fair place to set camp for the night, really.
Quickly, he turned his steed toward there. "The line of smoke is thin, it must be a campfire.", he thought, "Perhaps travelers, or bandits. Most merchants would travel all the way to Ost Guruth, why would they put their precious belongings at risk, spending the night in a place like this. No matter, perhaps they may be of assistance..".
He guided his horse through the muddy pools and debris that have long been overwhelmed by the thick vegetation of the marsh, arriving lastly at the feet of a short hill. Undoubtedly, the fire lied somewhere close to the top. Angelnarth tied the horse's reins to the branch of a tree that lied nearby, and eagerly started climbing the grassy hillside. A saddled horse, a dirty pan and a half-dead campfire was all that Angelnarth found at the top of the hill, to his disappointment. He kneeled above the fire and examined the cooking pan. It must have been half a day, by his estimate, since it was used.
"And what yer' come seeking?", a rough, familiar voice asked from behind his back. The knight turned in less than half a heartbeat, and there he stood in front of him now, Brulk . Angelnarth lowered his hood and revealed his identity, although the Hillman probably already recognized him by stature alone.
"I believe this is yours.", Angelnarth replied in a serious tone of his voice, throwing in front of him the eye patch that he found lying in lady Sybri's grasp, as she was lying unconscious on her bed. The Dunadan recognized the eye patch as it consisted by several pieces of cloth, stitched together. He still though wished for Brulk to declare it directly in his presence, that this item indeed belonged to him. He could not yet accept, despite the evidence, that it was his former companion the one responsible for this terrible deed, treachery.
Brulk glanced Angelnarth straight in the eye. His attire lied in an even rougher state than usual. A shaped bloodstone sat in his empty eye socket. His glimpse was cold, and his tone carried a merciless straightness, as he answered with a harsh, steady voice. "I reckon it is."
