The sound thundered across the hills, booming into the night. The cries and howls of the men and half-orc were enough to make a grown mans skin crawl, let alone the sounds of their feasting.
They had been there for weeks and now the local Dunlendings had sworn blood oaths to the servants of darkness, bringing with them their dark rituals and celebrations. Men danced and howled like beasts around the fire as others beat upon animal skin drums. Many painted with black paint, others spread ashes across their bodies as they went about their celebration that the dark has risen once more in the lands.
Yilgtig sat back, along the mouth of the cave and quietly smoked his pipe as he watched. The bandage now removed from his head, and flesh beginning to grow and heal where his ear used to be. His eyes peered among the new comers, tribals from the wilds of the land. They would be of great use over the coming times, especially during the war. He thought quietly to himself about the hunter that lay in the cave, wondering what he thought of the noise.
Cynraede sat in the corner, his blood shot eyes stared at the entry way of the cavern. The drums echoed loudly into the cave, as did the howls and screams of the wild men. It had been almost a full day since they had tried to come in and tried to rebind him, in an attempt to keep him from being able to resist or put up a fight. Only resulting in a death of one of their half-orc men being beaten to death. He looked up, and tightened his hands into fists as he heard boots upon the damp stone, bracing himself for the fight.
Yilg walked in, with two of the men whom he did not recognize. They were broad shouldered, with slender bodies. Their hair were mated messes, tangled and lose atop their heads. Their bodies were cut and torn, seemingly fresh from a fight. They both smiled, and walked to the young hunter.
They quickly snatched him up, raising his nearly limp body off the stone as they drug him to the east-man whom was smiling ear to ear. He spoke with arrogance as he bit down on his pipe, looking to the young man.
"Come little one, you will celebrate with us tonight. These men brought many things with them, one that might find interest with you. They call her a wise woman, a shaman. She wishes to see you, she finds interest in your kind. I am sure she will find many things interesting about you once she cuts you open and has a look around inside."
Yilgtig smiled, as he motioned for the men to carry him outside. The closer they got to the exit, the louder the drums and howls got. They set foot outside, nearly being blinded by the bright fire that burned high into the night. His heart stopped as he laid eyes upon her, as she turned and met his gaze.
The woman stood tall, painted with various colors across her skin. She gave a sickly smile as she motioned for the two men to bring him closer to the fire, smiling wider as they did so.
Everything hushed, the drums ceased and the men watched quietly as she inspected the young man. Holding him by his jaw as she stared into his eyes for several moments, only but a hairs breadth between them. She smelled of death and decay, it was hard to tell if it was from her lack of bathing, or the matted braids that hung from her head. Once thing he thought was for sure, this wouldn't be the end.
She smiled as she took a blade, and began shaving his beard and remaining quiet as she did. She hoisted the braids into the air and the men cheered, laughter and claps filled the camp as she tossed them into the fire. She skipped around the pit with a wide smile upon her face as she looked to him, mouthing words, yet he could only hear them in his head. The words she spoke seemed strange to him, yet he understood what she was saying.
"Come now, child of the light. Let darkness dine upon your soul. Let the sons and daughters of the shadow eat of your flesh and dine upon your bones! Let the master see your face, let all whom you slaughtered rejoice in your pain. Let your suffering be a boon to those whom you destroyed. Cynraede, son of Numenor, bend knee to the conqueror of all."
She grinned widely as she pulled a pouch from her belt, tossing it in the fire. All whom watched grew silent as they waited, looking to the fire intently. Cynraede stood there, looking around at everyone whom seemed to be unafraid that the hunter was now freed.
Before he could blink, it was all around him. Smoke darker than the depths of the world, swirling around him as he tried to move, but found himself unable to. It over took him as the others seemed to still be fixed upon the fire, seemingly uninterested in them. It burned to the touch as he tried to breath, feeling his lungs burn with each breath he took. Cynraede fell to his knees, trying to push himself away from what ever it was but found it following him.
"No! No do not touch me! Get away from me, you don't belong here!"
The young man screamed in horror as he felt the stone behind him, trying to escape the smoke. Sweat dripped from his body as he began to shake, choking as he fell to the floor once again. As he laid there, he heard familiar laughter, the east-man.
"This is but a taste of what the ones you call friend shall feel. This is but a glorious moment, when the darkness takes over. Something you would not know of, child of the light. You had your chance, and now the darkness will take you."
Yilgtig smiled as he kicked him over, watching as Cynraede struggled for breath. He tilted his head, and whispered.
"Fear not child, pain is but temporary. Darkness is forever.."
