The Rangers of Esteldin were occupied by the diversionary force Prevost sent ahead to skirmish with them. Those fifty, mostly orcs compromising the least of his forces, were easily swayed with emotional talk of plunder, of violence, of bloodshed. Mindless, undisciplined and incompetent, their only real use in any appropriate battle was to add chaos. In this, they managed also to serve decently as a distraction. They fought with a vicious abandon, reckless and heedless, as per design. They did so because in a few short moments, they would see the greater force move in behind the Rangers, trapping them. Or so they expected.
Prevost ordered his company onward in silence, sneaking past the engaging force and further south through to twisting canyons and ravines, listening to the orcs turn from fearlessness and into desperation as the men of the west began their slaughter. With no place to run or hide, those orcs Prevost had sent to their deaths would fight that much harder, like caged animals. Better to fully draw the attention of the enemy away from his true movements.
His own orders were absolute, and the sacrifice was necessary. He had no doubt that the Rangers would learn of their passing soon, and come following. By then however, it would be too late. The hundred Uruk would press into the eastern reaches of the Nan Amlug and harry south, to Dol Dinen. They would join up later perhaps, crossing the mountains south til the reach the eastern shores of the Nen Harn and circling round to the south. If they died, well, they would make a fight of it, and skirmish with these defenders of the southern lands, testing them, weakening them. He and his own, twenty strong between them, would break free and make for Trestlebridge under the guise of farmers, merchants, and even rangers.
These twenty were the real prize for her; all independently effective, each of them hand-picked for this. Some for their might in combat, some for their minds, some for their guile. They represented the elite. Some, those who possessed the skills to do so, would scatter; breaking off from the rest and advancing straight away to Bree under the cover of assumed identities. They would establish themselves, watch, and if able, kill or capture selected targets. Others would look for her, and direct them to her. The rest would follow Prevost in discovering the most suitable command for them.
In the end, Bree would burn. The strategy he would propose to his new mistress will run the roughshod and stubborn defenders ragged, and like a fractious colt, they would break their will to fight. Those that remain will be few, alone, isolated… desperate. Desperate men make dire mistakes.
First thing is first though, they must find Nalokha. Then, they follow the example of time, and attack first the legacy of these peoples.
