orcs

With a curved bow in his hand, he marched through the barren wasteland underneath the mask of darkness the land has given him. Soon, he shifted from being out in the open towards the cover of trees and rocks to hide him from sight. He waited, and his instincts were correct for soon, he had heard voices. Voices he recognized – one was croaky and crisp with age and weariness, whilst the other was simply aggressive and showing strength through even his voice.

I fear I most likely made a poor impression on the Avari. The last week has been a bit trying on my patience. Being bed ridden by an over attentive healer has not done me well either. I fear I have taken it out on him. It is going to take a great deal of patience to fix any bond with this Avari. I do not know if this is possible. I do not blame him if he chooses to avoid me. Now that I have had time for my temper to cool, Ai! I have been horridly mean. Orc like in manner even. Tis not his fault he did not understand, yet I pelted the salve jar at him anyway.

Braigion paid little heed to the tall elf riding ahead of him; the Avar merely sulked in frustration and sadness as the crazy horse he was forced to ride followed behind. It was a little better than being on foot, where every step would be extremely painful as a result from his foot nearly being chopped off by a bear trap. It started in the middle of the night, and Braigion was off hunting by the cover of darkness. The higher ones’ camp was a fair ways to the west, so he would not be seen and hopefully undisturbed by what seemed to be hunters…

(Previous chapter: Sun and Stars)

"Open the gate!

Open it!"

((to check out the first part, click here))

The man stopped, standing still, not unlike a statue, as if some sort of spell had just frozen him. He narrowed his eyes as he recognized what was before him, the beast that had already defeated him once: a Warg, as big as a horse and black as the night. It could be any black Warg, especially since the last time it was in the Lone-Lands, miles away... but Ildrand knew it was that Warg. The same size, the same growl, the same eyes.