It was dark, the stars glistrens in the black sky above him as they rode too the lands they called Rath Teraig. The council wanted to know what the goblins were doing there and seeing as he was at hand Zarg decided he might as well assist them, although the knights would need him shortly, and the fact that he has to look into what he can find in the Trollshaws and the movements of the occupying trolls in the area troubles him.
The last arrow shoots through the goblins head, splitting its skull. Zargodon kicking the bodies to make sure they where died, walks through the muck and ruin of the camp. Bones, rotten meat and old, festering, raw hides can be seen in the light of fires, the stench unbearable. Etcheleth at he side, walks beside him. Passing a Dwarven encampment, nothing to share with them he turns into the gloom of one of the many gorges that winds its way through these cursed lands. Etcheleth climbing an incline to better scout the path in front of them to make sure of no abuse that might await them, saw her first.
On the ground the bloodied and bruise body of a woman laid, almost died. Some of her bones surely broken, her lips swollen and torn. Is that not Annsuel? he can't see her features to be certain, to much blood, but none the less, she needs medical help. Panic flouds over him as he realizes that it is up to him if she would live or die. Asking Ectheleth to tend to her, he ran to the fangon's (bearded one's) camp nearby and orders them to help him with the tools to fashion a makeshift stretcher that he hastily, with the somewhat reluctant help of a few dwarfs, turn into temporary transport for the injured girl
What happened to her? what was she doing in theses parts in these dark corners of Ered Luin? He runs back to the pair on the the outcropping of rocks that Annsuel was dumped, most probably to die. Anger burns deep inside his elven heart, how can one do this to one of their own kind!? No elf or dwarf would have reason to do that to her, not even to speak of a hobbit, none that he could see would find reason to.
"Ethel help me fasten this to my horse!" he shouts as he fumbles with the leather straps of his saddle, these damn strings always seem to follow some unseen command when he needs them to, just for a change, obey his cursed fingers!. Lifting the girl gently and with utmost care into the cloth that has been woven between the two poles.
Too Duillond they rode, past the destroyed goblin encampment and truth the hills that litter the lands along the river Lhun. "Out of the way!" he shouts as they enter the settlement. Age old and majestic in its splendor the towers and pillars of Duillond stretches up towards the night sky around them as they galloped thru the crowed of gathering elves.
Their expressions concerned and frowning steps away from the incoming horses of Ectheleth and himself. Half falling, jumping from his horse he runs down the slopes of the town towards a tall tower that overlooks the river that winds its proud waters down to the sea. He almost stumbles and falls as he reach the door "Open, quick come! Now!" he shouts aloud. He can't let this girl die. An elf, his robes as white as the first flakes of snow fall in winter, eyes the color of faint blue of the coldness and untold years of deep forgotten ice opens the door "And what would the..." he stops in mid sentence as he sees the girl in the stretcher, her head resting against one of the poles, her clothes, torn and ripped, of what little the attackers had the dignity to leave her with is already crimson from the blood that flows freely from her wounds. "Oh please Eru don't let her die" Zargodon sends up a quick prayer to Illuvattar as the healer calls for help from inside the tower.
