"I am on Amon Raith, past Trestlebridge. Meet me there in armour and ready for everything." That parchment is new, fixed to a pillar in the barracks with a dagger.
By the time she reached Bree she has linked up with others of the company. No one had more information, or at least no one was willing to share it. Caithryth mustered the faces of her companions, one by one, motivated by the resolve. It was simple, in the end. There was a call and they're going to heed it.
The fine drizzle that made the ride through the north fields a slog stopped by the time they've reached Trestlebridge, and by then, they were complete. She recognized Gaeded, Fiontann's right hand, taking charge of things and couldn't help but feel more and more anxious as they've climbed the steps to the old ruins atop the hill. The boss was there, as was a small rabble of refugees in an impromptu camp.
Eagerly, she awaited the orders.
------------------------------ The Farms ------------------------------
The second farm was worse than the first. As soon as they passed the fence they saw a sad scarecrow in the middle of the ripening stalks. There was nothing left to be done except cutting the unlucky man down, before the circling crows lose their fear.
"His heart's been cut out as well.", she reported to the others, even with as obvious as the huge damaging wound was, she just wanted to say something to break the silence. There were more dead, closer to the farmhouse. It was not murder, it was slaughter, and even a butcher works with less waste. She had to turn away, get a few steps away from the scenery and take in fresh air. Closing her eyes, the afternoon sun on her skin and the rustling of wind in the leaves it was almost a beautiful day.
"He's watching." The thought pierced the serene moment and brought her into the here and now again. She glanced at the tall figure of their leader and straightened up again, striding back with determination to assist in the investigation, following three of her new company towards a small, idle windmill on a hill oppposite the farmland. More dead, smaller figures, too, roped to the vanes sending yet another gruesome message.
Thorbeck, the dwarf, called out what was written on the bodies. "Come To Us." "It Is Time.", but before they were able to properly discuss the meaning they heard a commotion behind them. Hurrying down the slope of the hill to meet up with the others it was quite clear: One of their's was missing. With Anriett gone there was no stopping Atharann.
------------------------------ The Chase ------------------------------
Gaeded's dog found the trail and lead them north, over a wooded hill towards another old ruin of Arthedain. Some brigands had their camp in there, but they were no match for the company. After the short skirmish they heard Anriett shouting and found her, locked up in an impromptu cell that offered about as much resistance as the scrawny men before. It was apparent that hey haven't found the real culprits yet.
Once reunited, they noticed they were being watched from a nearby hilltop. Two human figures, clad in red. As soon as Fiontann called them out they turned to leave. Immediately the company took chase, following them up that hill. An odd, ominous feeling crept into her heart, the higher they climbed up that slope.
------------------------------ Memories ------------------------------
Images got conjured up in her head, hitting her with an intensity that physically made her reel back. It was a dark, rainy night. She could hear the rain, feel it on her skin and clothes, smell it mixed with smoke, wet earth and the faint metallic odour of blood. They have been ambushed, she remembers now, fingers gripping her blades closer. One is down already, she got the drop on him as she snuck out of the tent, stepping over one of the merchants who has been unluckier. It was quiet now, the only sounds of fighting were on the far side of their camp, near the two carts. "There might be more creeping around here." Carefully, moving step by step she sneaks around another tent, as the sounds of fighting dies down. She hears Coragon barking an order, just as another assailant charges her from the darkness to her side. She deflects the overhead cut with her short steel, forcing a wide opening for a thrust, straight into the chest and out again. Her blood freezes as she recognizes the face. "No." she mutters, as the body goes limp, trying to hold him up, shouting yet again, "No!".
Light returns to the world, the smell of blood and dirt dissipates, exchanged with the faint fragrant of dry heather. Dumbstruck, Caithryth looks around, seeing her compansion in similar disbelief, wrought with their own emotions.
The only one who looks more or less composed was the tall figure of Fiontann. "He messes with your heads." he spits out.
------------------------------ The Ambush ------------------------------
Just as the company was stumbling in disarray up towards the crest the two red-clad adversaries have disappeared behind more step out from amidst the crippled trees and small bushes, charging them as a line.
Steel rang on steel, and immediately it was apparent that those were cut from a different cloth. Caithryth's eagerness caused her to suffer from a superficial but painful cut on her shoulder as she underestimated the man's skill with a spear. Stepping back over rocks and roots she tried to remember her training, trying to read the movements and intentions of her opponent, made difficult by the mask he - or she - was wearing.
"Form a line!" Gaeded shouted out in a voice that tolerated no dissent, just as their foes, in good order, formed up for another charge themselves. The skirmish continued, and slowly but surely she found a way to negate the swift jabs of the leafed speartip with both short and long steel, waiting for an opportunity to move in, underneath his range. Once more, a swift stroke of her long steel got deflected by the chain mail, merely cutting red cloth. "The dagger isn't helping.", but as soon as the plan was hatched, their opponents retreated again. Her instincts flared up, causing her to fight down the urge to follow. A bellowed command, "Hit the ground!", brought her back. Without asking, she threw herself down, breathing out heavily as she hit the ground, disappearing in the bushes and patches of heather. Quarrels flew dangerously close over their heads, hitting the ground with ugly thumps.
"They're running!" someone shouted out, as everyone scrambled to their feet again. Once more, they saw the backs of the red-armored men hurrying over a hillside, and while she got up properly, gathering her senses, the first were already charging behind them. As they reached the crest, through an alley of two small clusters of gnarly trees, most of the company fell prey to prepared ground, stumbling over thin wires or losing footing in soft ground.
By the time everyone got up again, the attackers have made it to the bottom of the hill, mounting up on small, grey horses. By skill and luck, one of the arrows shot at long distance by the company hit home, felling one of the red armored men. His companions tried to help him, but got dissuaded by another volley of arrows coming dangerously close, and took off into the north-east.
The corpse had a note on him, and some more of that strange coin, mentioning the name Dalton Willow, Half of the company rushed back to their horses immediately, which they've left at the farms, while the others walked back with Gaeded, who had injured her foot in the snares, before demand everything from their steeds to return as swiftly as possible.
------------------------------ Ash and Smoke ------------------------------
By the time they've arrived in Bree, Willow was already questioned. Someone had abducted his girl, without any demands. While talking to the distraught man they heard a shout outside. Fiontann, Atharann and Anriett went out to investigate, leaving Arthasdir, Caithryth and Athlenah back in the study, to keep an eye on Willow. After hearing fighting sounds from outside, she exchanged a glance with Arthasdir. It was clear they're not going to sit in here, on their thumbs. Instead they hauled a table down the stairs to block the lower entrance before dashing outside, while Athlenah volunteerewd to guard the man. After a quick moment of orientation, they followed the alley south, homing in on the sounds of strife. However, by the time they reached their companions they merely saw some figures flee along the alley. "Into the house! There's more." barked someone, so she followed.
Inside was a scared young couple, talking to Anriett. Caithryth didn't follow the conversation at all, she was too busy helping Fiontann barricade the door while Atharann investigated the upper floors. Glass shattered, and smoking pouches slithered along the hardwood floor. "Get them out!" she yelled, trying to throw the first one back outside, burning her fingers even throug the leather gloves. More and more smoke began to fill the room, making it difficult to spot all the sources. Coughing heavily, she looked feverishly for an escape route but felt her body going number, her thoughts taking quite a lot of effort to form. "That's not just smoke.", the realization went through her head as she was steadying herself against a candlestick holder. She lost consciousness moments after, candles rolling over the floor dribbling wax everywhere.
