Braigion paid little heed to the tall elf riding ahead of him; the Avar merely sulked in frustration and sadness as the crazy horse he was forced to ride followed behind. It was a little better than being on foot, where every step would be extremely painful as a result from his foot nearly being chopped off by a bear trap. It started in the middle of the night, and Braigion was off hunting by the cover of darkness. The higher ones’ camp was a fair ways to the west, so he would not be seen and hopefully undisturbed by what seemed to be hunters…
The foul men and yrch had taken note of their fewer numbers at the hands of this ‘savage pointy-ear’. They did not immediately pinpoint who it was, and small parties were sent to ‘collect’ the first party after they did not return. The crude arrows made them confused, and some assumed that they turned on each other…Actually, a couple did while they argued about who killed their comrades.
“They lack reinforcements! See how bad their arrows are!”
“Send out the worms, yes…they cannot penetrate their hide now,” a half-orc suggested.
“Shut up, scum!” the chieftain yelled, “They still have arrows of steel…just seeing the corpses of our other maggots were slain about the same time.”
“I’m starvin’…” a lone orc complained.
“Elf? How?” one Dunlending questioned, “From what I was told, they are fierce warriors and great craftsmen…”
“Not all of ‘em…Wild-elves, much like you scum.” The uruk chief spoke mockingly, which made a few of the Dunlendings quite angry.
“What should we do? This elf will wipe us all out than a whole encampment!”
“Lure it! Set up one of your Avanc-jaw trap…things, somewhere! Maybe one of your mannish chiefs would like to ‘ave an elf as a pet…” the Uruk stopped for a moment, “Sharkû…”
Almost after that order a Dunlending hunter was sent to find a very appealing animal to shoot and set near said trap...
Braigion never considered or even thought of the potential his new predators had, but he knew little of peoples west of the Hithaeglir. If he knew that the wild-men were incredibly similar to how the elf’s own people operated in terms of weapons, he might have been more vigil. A fair trick for their part; the hunter had left a very appealing carcass of a stag near the Avanc-jaw. Braigion was too tempted to take much note of anything close, as his focus was to try and take the stag away from the open and to somewhere more concealed.
One wrong step…and snap!
The sudden pain on his ankle and calf was overwhelming and Braigion half shrieked; and did it in such a way it could be mistaken for a bird. The Avar forgot about the stag and went to unpin the chain that was attached to a stake hammered in the ground. That thing was deep in the ground, and it took a while (he is not very renowned for his strength in pulling or pushing, considering his weight…) before the Avar pulled it out of the dirt and fell on his back. Out of the shrubs came his hunters, and withdrew his sword and dagger as he sprang in a savage mode to fight them; ignoring the fact his foot was still in a cumbersome trap. It would be some time before another elf hunting would come to the rescue.
Surprisingly, two elves came; one came earlier, and another came at the end of the fight…The first elf, Lamnon (or something), Braigion had seen before; very recently in fact, with the armored she-elf he had wrestled with. The other elf, taller, whom Lamnon seemed to hold much respect for, knew the eastern-tongue: Rhûnic. Braigion was amazed at this (despite holding mass trepidation for both of them), and was glad being able to speak in a tongue that someone else could respond to! The topic was…more or less, being seen to; willingly or forcefully. Braigion could fend for himself, and tried many times to get away; only to be pulled back down to the ground, threatened to be bound, or yelled at. He ended up attacking Lamnon once he removed the trap from the Avar’s foot, making wounds to his face, and tried doing the same to the other ellon since he would not let go. Lamnon threw a hard object at Braigion’s head, and he sunk to the floor in submission. Lamnon did what he could to the wound…and Braigion ended up hearing the tall ellon say that they will bring him back to the Vale, and if Braigion tried to attack either of them (To the Avar's ears, which meant also should he try and escape), the tall elf would bind him to the horse.
Braigion remained quiet, as he sulked severely with a massive pout and attitude of refusal. He only argued about riding alone, knowing better not to fight with hand or blade.
Now, with a hurting hand (considering the tall elf had hit him hard enough when Braigion held a knife near the ellon earlier), a headache, and severely injured foot, Braigion was being taken back to the Vale he had recently left months ago, like some captive.
He was told the Vale was welcoming…Braigion heavily doubts that now.
