Cynraede

Cynraede plucked the golden arrow from the goblins head, letting it fall to the sandy ground with a wet squish. Several of their corpses had been scattered across the hill, the golden arrows sticking out from their little stumpy bodies. He had realized that Fairlain was skilled with a bow, but never truly understood how much so.

He placed the arrow in the bundle that lay cradled in his arm, moving to the rest of the mangled bodies, noting the rather large gashes across their bodies. It was clear that she had to resort to getting close, a rather deadly mistake.

The six men stood atop the hill, the footsteps of the legions before them could be heared echoing throughout the rolling hills of Angmar. They drew arrows, nocking them and reading for the skirmish ahead. The hunter looked to the men and spoke softly, as if it was a whisper on the wind. 

The hunter stood preparing his equipment for the coming battle, emotions running deep in his mind as he tried to settle his restless soul. She came to his mind as he softly touched the stone around his neck as he did s many times before, closing his eyes softly. He remembered words he had told her, that had seemingly upset her, but it was so she would not think him foolish..

The fair skinned woman held the baby who was carefully wrapped in a soft, dark blue blanket. His grayish blue eyes twinkled at the beautiful cloudless sky that seemed limitless over the city of Osgiliath. He looked around in awe of the people and noises, a toothless grin constantly on his beaming face. He laughed as he latched onto is mother, cuddling close to her chest, softly listening to her beating heart. 

"Are you tired my love?" 

The hunter walked outside of the gates of Aughaire, the window picking up the dust and ash that lay across most of the foul lands of Angmar. He wondered quietly to himself if these lands had always been like this, or if they were once like many of the others, lush, filled with beauty and mystery. He carefully made his way down the steep hill, knowing that these were but baby steps compared to where he needed to go.

The east man laid along the cot and made not a sound as he breathed in the dimly lit room. The candles flames licked the air softly as it it burned and gave off just enough light to see that part of the room, but still partly leaving the other side in shadowy void. Keen eyes watched him quietly, studying him, taking notes, thinking as he did. 

     The evening was growing dark quickly, as Gaildrin was wandering stealthily through the uninhabited ruins of Eregion. He had discovered that some strange men from the east had been prowling these lands, and intended to find what business would bring such men so far into Eriador. With this news, he had also found that some Dunlendings had been migrating to the same region, which made the situation all the more suspicious.

The young man stood quietly as he watched the small creature scurry about the forest floor, his brothers and sisters all around. He was always fascinated by the rabbit, such a small creature that could literally scare itself to death. Yet it lived in such a dangerous place, the forests here were teaming with wolves and bear, giant spiders as well. Yet there they sat, playing and wondering around, not straying to far from their den. 

The hooded man knelt before a mangled corpse of fur and flesh as the rain poured from the heavens. Tears rolled down his face as his worn, dirtied hands ran through the matted fur of the beast that had passed from this world. For it had only seemed like moments before they were brawling in the forests to see whom was the stronger, testing each others mettle. The tuft of fur still missing from his neck.