Re: Daughter of Arnor
Posted: Wed Feb 02, 2011 1:36 am
Finally updating this story! I kind of like to procrastinate when I shouldn't, hehe. It's not much, with just a little action, but I've been drifting in and out of a motivational stage, if you will.
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Anticipated hooves pawed at the frozen dirt early that morning. The sun had not the chance to rise and greet the Dunedain settlements with his welcoming warm rays. Ten men clothed in wool, forest green cloaks -speckled with brown- stood around their steeds; some rubbing their hands together in an attempt at staying warm; all of them waiting patiently for their captain to arrive. Not moments ago, they were awakened from their reveries on order from the aforementioned captain, Daeradan. Twelve rangers total -including the captain and his daughter- was all the settlements could spare for the journey. Daeradan sent word by his fastest horseman to Imladris, asking for aid until they returned...IF they returned. Albeit he was displeased -and ashamed- to do so, not because of his pride, but because he had not the man power to protect his own people. The Dunedain are a dying breed of men, and Daeradan wants nothing more than to protect those few who are left in the Angle.
"This will be your last chance, Aeron, not many rangers are given the choice to stay at home with their loved ones; to stay in the warmth and safety of their homes."
Daeradan watched his daughter tack up her painted, rough haired, colt -Aergolas- hoping she would come to her senses about this decision she was so adamant about keeping. Aeron, however, did not answer him. After she had secured her bedroll and supplies to her saddle, she grabbed hold of the colt's reins and led him outside. Daeradan sighed, patting the side of his bay mare's neck, “Why do women have to be so stubborn?" The mare tossed her head, nipping at his arm as if to object. He chuckled, despite his current mood, mounting up and leading her outside into the cold morning's air. Daeradan gazed over each man that turned to gaze at him, his eyes traveling from them to the women who were beginning to gather around the small company.
"My Rangers," he pulled his mare to a stop in front of the eleven riders before him, “Our brethren from the Northern Downs have called upon us for our aid."
The Rangers glanced between one another, before looking back to their captain.
"I will not lie and fill you with false hope," his voice and expression were grim, as they normally tended to be, “The journey we are about to embark on will be perilous. If the flight to the North Downs does not claim the lot of us; the one into Angmar will."
Vanya, Daeradan's bay mare, pawed anxiously at the ground in front of her, silence filling the biting cold air of the morning. Each Dunadan did not look away from their captain, for this was nothing new to their ears. They were acquainted well with life threatening and near death situations, met them each and every day. The Dunedain of the Angle were not afraid of death...
Save for one, that is, and she wasn't acquainted with the aforementioned life threatening situations. The shifting of her body weight on the saddle -from nerves, no doubt- did not go unnoticed by those around her.
"But we will go nonetheless."
Daeradan's eyes came to a halt on his daughter, where they remained for the time being. The intensity of his stare caused the young female to glance down at the spot between her horse's ears, wanting to look anywhere but forward. She began to fidget, pulling her forest green mask up on her face and her hood up over her head. The men around her turned to watch her, sensing her uneasiness. They exchanged quick glances between one another -concerned glances- before mounting their steeds. Aeron would either prove to be worthy of the title a Ranger held, or to be a hindrance and the downfall of their small company. The Dunedain only hoped it was the former of the two.
"Let us ride to our brethren's aid, Rangers."
Daeradan wheeled Vanya around, but not before one final glance into his wife's direction. He gave her a nod of his head along with a rare seen smile. He nudged his mare into a trot; Aeron, alongside Daeradan's second in command, followed directly in behind him out of the main gates. Dense woods encircled them; the river Hoarwell lay to their left, and the river Bruinen to the right. A narrow dirt path, not often used - not even by the Dunedain- stretched before them in a direct straight line.
The Rangers had been traveling the narrow, never ending -or so it seemed- path since the sun reached the highest point in the sky. There was no beautiful scenery; the trees were naked, dead brown leaves covered the ground; the only sounds that could be heard was the rushing of the rivers flowing beside of them. No birds chirped, no wind blew...
"It is far too quiet in these woods, something does not bode well."
The older ranger was riding in the back next to a younger man, his seasoned eyes scanning over the solitary, bare trees before resting on the painted colt that was prancing around nervously in behind Daeradan.
"Control your beast!"
One of the other rangers hissed quietly, glaring at Aeron. Aergolas' uneasiness was affecting the other horses in the company.
"There is something foul in the air, Aergolas would not-"
A cry from the back of the company spooked the horses, some reared and all whinnied in fright.
"We're under attack, captain!"
The old man's cry caused Daeradan to wheel Vanya around, dismounting her quickly. The other rangers mimicked him; some drawing their swords and a few others -including Aeron- nocking arrows; drawn and pointed in the direction the enemy arrow came from. The seasoned ranger helped the younger male off his horse, examining the arrow that pierced the boy's upper arm.
"Stay alert men, do not let your guard down."
Daeradan's eyes remained focused in the area from which the arrow came, the silence engulfing the small company once again.
"Orc."
Coranthor, the elder ranger, looked up at Daeradan before looking back down at the wounded young man.
"Barbed arrow...gonna be mighty painful removin' it.."
Daeradan looked down at the boy's injured arm, seeing a few tears fall from his eyes. "Remove it, Coranthor, and bandage it up with haste."
"Why aren't they attacking? Do they mean to torment us?"
Aeron's voice quivered same as her arm that still had an arrow drawn. A shadow moved through the trees, causing the unnerved woman's eyes to dart after it. She followed the shadow, each time it moved, with her arrow; her breathing becoming more unsteady. If the orcs were trying to torment them, they were doing a fine job of it.
"Aeron, stay focused."
A ranger that stood near her watched her carefully out of the corner of his eye, wincing when she released her arrow at the shadow. Although the shadow slumped over; falling to its death, an angered cry; no, an uproar of furious cries, emitted through the chilly air.
"I...I got it!"
A whole company of seething, glowering rangers turned to look at the youngest of the group.
"Aye, and you've called the rest of them to arms!"
__________________________________________
Anticipated hooves pawed at the frozen dirt early that morning. The sun had not the chance to rise and greet the Dunedain settlements with his welcoming warm rays. Ten men clothed in wool, forest green cloaks -speckled with brown- stood around their steeds; some rubbing their hands together in an attempt at staying warm; all of them waiting patiently for their captain to arrive. Not moments ago, they were awakened from their reveries on order from the aforementioned captain, Daeradan. Twelve rangers total -including the captain and his daughter- was all the settlements could spare for the journey. Daeradan sent word by his fastest horseman to Imladris, asking for aid until they returned...IF they returned. Albeit he was displeased -and ashamed- to do so, not because of his pride, but because he had not the man power to protect his own people. The Dunedain are a dying breed of men, and Daeradan wants nothing more than to protect those few who are left in the Angle.
"This will be your last chance, Aeron, not many rangers are given the choice to stay at home with their loved ones; to stay in the warmth and safety of their homes."
Daeradan watched his daughter tack up her painted, rough haired, colt -Aergolas- hoping she would come to her senses about this decision she was so adamant about keeping. Aeron, however, did not answer him. After she had secured her bedroll and supplies to her saddle, she grabbed hold of the colt's reins and led him outside. Daeradan sighed, patting the side of his bay mare's neck, “Why do women have to be so stubborn?" The mare tossed her head, nipping at his arm as if to object. He chuckled, despite his current mood, mounting up and leading her outside into the cold morning's air. Daeradan gazed over each man that turned to gaze at him, his eyes traveling from them to the women who were beginning to gather around the small company.
"My Rangers," he pulled his mare to a stop in front of the eleven riders before him, “Our brethren from the Northern Downs have called upon us for our aid."
The Rangers glanced between one another, before looking back to their captain.
"I will not lie and fill you with false hope," his voice and expression were grim, as they normally tended to be, “The journey we are about to embark on will be perilous. If the flight to the North Downs does not claim the lot of us; the one into Angmar will."
Vanya, Daeradan's bay mare, pawed anxiously at the ground in front of her, silence filling the biting cold air of the morning. Each Dunadan did not look away from their captain, for this was nothing new to their ears. They were acquainted well with life threatening and near death situations, met them each and every day. The Dunedain of the Angle were not afraid of death...
Save for one, that is, and she wasn't acquainted with the aforementioned life threatening situations. The shifting of her body weight on the saddle -from nerves, no doubt- did not go unnoticed by those around her.
"But we will go nonetheless."
Daeradan's eyes came to a halt on his daughter, where they remained for the time being. The intensity of his stare caused the young female to glance down at the spot between her horse's ears, wanting to look anywhere but forward. She began to fidget, pulling her forest green mask up on her face and her hood up over her head. The men around her turned to watch her, sensing her uneasiness. They exchanged quick glances between one another -concerned glances- before mounting their steeds. Aeron would either prove to be worthy of the title a Ranger held, or to be a hindrance and the downfall of their small company. The Dunedain only hoped it was the former of the two.
"Let us ride to our brethren's aid, Rangers."
Daeradan wheeled Vanya around, but not before one final glance into his wife's direction. He gave her a nod of his head along with a rare seen smile. He nudged his mare into a trot; Aeron, alongside Daeradan's second in command, followed directly in behind him out of the main gates. Dense woods encircled them; the river Hoarwell lay to their left, and the river Bruinen to the right. A narrow dirt path, not often used - not even by the Dunedain- stretched before them in a direct straight line.
The Rangers had been traveling the narrow, never ending -or so it seemed- path since the sun reached the highest point in the sky. There was no beautiful scenery; the trees were naked, dead brown leaves covered the ground; the only sounds that could be heard was the rushing of the rivers flowing beside of them. No birds chirped, no wind blew...
"It is far too quiet in these woods, something does not bode well."
The older ranger was riding in the back next to a younger man, his seasoned eyes scanning over the solitary, bare trees before resting on the painted colt that was prancing around nervously in behind Daeradan.
"Control your beast!"
One of the other rangers hissed quietly, glaring at Aeron. Aergolas' uneasiness was affecting the other horses in the company.
"There is something foul in the air, Aergolas would not-"
A cry from the back of the company spooked the horses, some reared and all whinnied in fright.
"We're under attack, captain!"
The old man's cry caused Daeradan to wheel Vanya around, dismounting her quickly. The other rangers mimicked him; some drawing their swords and a few others -including Aeron- nocking arrows; drawn and pointed in the direction the enemy arrow came from. The seasoned ranger helped the younger male off his horse, examining the arrow that pierced the boy's upper arm.
"Stay alert men, do not let your guard down."
Daeradan's eyes remained focused in the area from which the arrow came, the silence engulfing the small company once again.
"Orc."
Coranthor, the elder ranger, looked up at Daeradan before looking back down at the wounded young man.
"Barbed arrow...gonna be mighty painful removin' it.."
Daeradan looked down at the boy's injured arm, seeing a few tears fall from his eyes. "Remove it, Coranthor, and bandage it up with haste."
"Why aren't they attacking? Do they mean to torment us?"
Aeron's voice quivered same as her arm that still had an arrow drawn. A shadow moved through the trees, causing the unnerved woman's eyes to dart after it. She followed the shadow, each time it moved, with her arrow; her breathing becoming more unsteady. If the orcs were trying to torment them, they were doing a fine job of it.
"Aeron, stay focused."
A ranger that stood near her watched her carefully out of the corner of his eye, wincing when she released her arrow at the shadow. Although the shadow slumped over; falling to its death, an angered cry; no, an uproar of furious cries, emitted through the chilly air.
"I...I got it!"
A whole company of seething, glowering rangers turned to look at the youngest of the group.
"Aye, and you've called the rest of them to arms!"