Attention please: Some of the content within may not be suitable for the very sensible minded.
Their callous laughter echoed from within the city walls as she stood at the locked gates, anger seething through her every vein, the Ranger Romdin was securing their retreat back on the road. If Yorva had been anxious to come here it was through anticipating but little of what she actually encountered. The woods were full of maddened beasts, the lumber and mining camps abandoned now for many months, no sign of any man having made a mark of flight or battle. As agreed the Ranger had come to accompany her on scouting the area around her home dwelling before they were to set off on an errand called for by one of their leaders, a man simply named Rogue. Yorva had not talked about her last days in the city with anyone, but as the two silent figures sought a stealthy route through the wooded mountains towards the main road she could not help assigning to every tree, any shadow a memory of significance, of hurt and guilt. What they did see was the careless treatment of the wayside, trees as old as many kingdoms of men had been chopped and used to fortify the city wall with ugly crossbeams, the few farms scattered on the outskirts were overgrown with nasty weeds and infested by rodents.
As Yorva reached the immediacy of the gates she bade Romdin to stop, and in the shadow of the walls they stood listening for any sound, let their gaze fly over the walls walkway for sign of movement. The Ranger indicated his idea to try and climb the walls, but Yorva shook her head and stepped up to check the gate’s lock when a snarling cocky voice finally addressed them: “Now look who we have here. Got lost you eh? You Wilderling should take better care where to walk around here, don’t want nothing to happen to you do you? You are aware there are at least twenty arrows or spears pointed at you from above are you? ” The voice so self assured laughed unpleasantly as one could hear a body moving closer to the gate on whose other side Yorva stood transfixed, while Romdin had already taken up his bow, an arrow ready to fly pointing to where the voice had first come from. A man stepped into sight, rough looking and dirty skinned, but his clothes Yorva recognized as belonging to someone of her Kin. The shock wakened her spirit, she moved as close to the man’s face as she could let down her hood and enjoyed his eyes widening as she whispered with a voice quivering with suppressed anger: “Stop showing off you... Tell me what has become of my people or I will find out myself. Waste no more of their and my time.” The man backed away as if he had seen a ghost running off a road leading to the upper levels of the city. On the wall voices could be heard muttering now, some surprised as the door warden others dismissive, calling out obscenities towards the woman who stood as if she held the keys to the gate ready to enter at her free will. Romdin stepped up and voiced his concerns. They were only two and could not hope to achieve little more than thinning the ranks of the Brigands who had overtaken the city should things turn to battle. “Whatever you feel now gather your thoughts! This is not the time for rash action. Not today. What more can you achieve by listening to their taunts? We must leave. Now.” Before Yorva could answer the two figures at the gate perceived a daunting presence descending the road the door warden had used to flee the scene. The rough voices above changed their tune to one of cheering and when the frame of a huge Half Orc swinging a battle axe with ease came into sight even the Ranger Romdin stiffened. The creature stepped close holding up the keys to the gate with a grim smile. “I hear the Masters little bird has flown home. Did you miss him so much you could not bear to stay dead?” He laughed loudly, joined by all the voices presenting unabashed danger from above. “I will let you in so you can be reunited. He will be sure to enjoy having you around again especially since you prove so ...resilient. Your green clad friend, too, will provide amusement, for a day or two.” He laughed once more, roaring and blaring amused by his own taunting jokes. He then continued with a vile joy in his voice: “I was told you seek information about the former people of this city. I can help you with that.” Careless the Half Orc threw a bundle at Yorva's feet through the iron grates. It was the severed limb of a human. The woman felt her resolve vanish into nothing, terror enclosing her every thought. “We keep most of them still, need some busy workers but they just die so easily. It’s a shame. Lost about a third of them already come to think of it.” There was nothing else but the open bundle in Yorva’s numbened sight. She clung to the gate faint, shaking and pounding at it as if willing it to open by her silent wish to enter and end a gruel nightmare once and for all. Live or die either cost was justified if it could end what she unknowingly brought upon her people. The Orc laughed and laughed making a game of picking at the lock with the keys; and laugh did the rough men on top of the wall, who started to rain arrows around the Ranger and the woman. Losing no further time Romdin acted swiftly as only one of his own Kin could. He grabbed the furious senseless woman and dragged her away from the gate towards the road, down the ditches into the woods upon the mountain’s side, dodging arrows and trying to gain a fast and wide distance. The last thing he perceived was a call to arms within the city and one arrow finding its target in an exposed leg.
After what felt like many hours Yorva regained her composure well enough to thank Romdin for their accomplished flight. They were hiding at an old camp-side Yorva knew from her days of hunting and woodworking, not too far from the city, but out of sight on the edge of an old ruin from far older days. He had taken care of her wound sufficiently to allow them to move on. There was little talk between them as they sat gathering strength before seeking the hideout of their horses, one too distressed to form a coherent explanation of her feelings and thoughts, the other desirous to move on after agreeing to be part of what he deemed an unwise if not foolish endeavour. “It is time, let us leave.” He spoke softly holding out a hand to the figure below. The woman stirred took hold of the arm and raised herself. Amongst the setting light of a red sun two rangers stood in silence, bound in Kinship more and more by every passing day, by every fight survived together.
