A somewhat strong, but chilly, gust of wind blew straight into his face, messing his hair and making him turn his head to the side, to avoid it passing by his ears. It always irritated Grimhaleth, the cold wind in his ears. It was late in the morning and he was walking for the most of it, the long plains of Rohan seem even longer if one tries to walk them. He started from South of Fangorn in a steady pace, trying to stay out of the main roads to avoid the orcs, that oddly enough, weren’t around patrolling as usually, it was odd, but they could have gone on a raid nearby. One of them could be seen on the horizon, its brown wooden wall was distinguishable in the surrounding green, Eaworth. It was just a few days ago that he passed from it, heading South, curious to see where that company that he met days ago went. They call themselves The Black Steel and among them is a girl, a kinswoman of his, that dared defy the King’s orders and decided to fight the orcs that scourge their homeland. He leaned against a big rock to cover from the cold wind before continuing, he was going to go to Thornhope, the village that’s located just outside of Fangorn forest, where he last saw them.
He had just made to leave his cover and resume his walking when the wind changed direction, now coming from the East. Grim cursed his lack and continued onwards when another torrent of wind blew straight into his face, but this time it brought something with it, the smell of fire and burnt flesh, destruction and death. A sudden panic cut his breath for a moment before he turned his head to his right, trying to determine where it was coming from. The sky was clear, so it was relatively easy for his trained eyes to spot them. Thin columns of smoke were going up into the sky, thin, hard to spot, barely visible, not that black anymore. Whatever fire was burning was now dying down. From the position of the columns and the lack of orcish patrols he guessed that the smoke was coming from a known orcish camp in the area, the one that terrorized the Entwash Vale for a long time now. Instead of making towards it, the tall, blonde man stopped and made certain that the belts of his shield and sword were strapped tightly against his body and pulled his hood up and turned to make towards Eaworth, the closest town to the camp. If someone attacked the camp they’d go there for respite, if the orcs would retaliate the village would need help.
His hastened steps brought him at the gates of the town where two men stood guard, a young man who probably wasn’t older that Grimhaleth himself and another one that was significantly older, one who in peaceful times would enjoy his rest after serving the King’s army. Once he got close the men lowered their spears, almost pointing at him.
-Who goes there?
-I am Grimhaleth, a traveler.
He knew that his name would probably do him no good but he didn’t want to lie to his kinsmen. The guards looked at each other and the older lowered his spear more, aiming directly at the man’s face now. Grimhaleth pulled the hood down and eyed both, a faint smile was formed on his lips, amusement read on his face, both sides knew that he could slay both if he wanted, yet, what had to be done, had to be done.
-State your business in Eaworth, Grimhaleth…
The menacing growl of the old man didn’t intimidate him, Grim replied sternly and calmly.
-I saw that the orc encampment is burnt down, so I came to offer my sword to the town, once word spreads, they will seek revenge and Eaworth is the closest settlement.
-We don't have money for sellswords.
-You know I'm not a sellsword!
His words were true and the younger men turned to look at the old one, who kept his gaze on the traveler. Soon he spoke.
-Yes, we will need blades if they do attack, there’s not many of us here, we may try to look ready, but we aren’t…
The old man turned to look at the younger one, almost surprised, but in his eyes were showing the truth, Eaworth wouldn’t be ready for anything if the orcs attacked, even this man’s blade would be valuable.The guards pulled their spears away and Grimhaleth took two or three steps forward and stopped under the brown gate.
-Are there any foreigners in town?
-In the infirmary. One was wounded.
The young man’s smile was full of satisfaction, that made Grimhaleth smirk.
-Good, keep up the good work.
The town was quiet, none but some children were in the first metres past the gate, but even they disappeared as soon as they saw him, a tall, muscular man, armed to the teeth, entering their town. His steps took him to the infirmary which he knew was close to the gate, he looked at the door thinking, she was there, the girl that defied the King’s orders, the girl that took on the orcs. Gaeded and her company were here, would they accept to work with him to fight the orcs? And most importantly were they here to do any good to Rohan? One could only hope...
