Their road from Wyld Hunt’s Second Base in Bree-land was largely uneventful. The stay at Bree's hunting lodge was brief and boring. From Bree-town they headed North along the Greenway. Light drizzle started shortly after they left. On this rainy evening, the group got close to the small town of Trestlebridge - and noticed that the citizens were in distress…
Erasm looked up at the town gates, wiping rain drops from his forehead. He looked tired and still weakened, but his resolve kept him going. A shade of worry crossed his face, as he noticed signs of distress among the people. He allowed his steed to slow down, then gave a look at his fellows.
Feaandir was already in Trestlebridge, helping the locals to treat the wounds after a devastating Orc attack. He heard that a group approached the Southern Gate and hurried to meet them.
The four stood mounted on their steeds in front of the town's guard.
Feaandir touched the guard's shoulder and pointed at the company, "Come Thorondiin. Our friends." The guard seemed to be relieved as Feaandir continued "Master Erasm, I presume?"
Erasm looked at the man and nodded. 'That is my name, yes. Might you be Feaandir?' Erasm's voice was quieter than usual, both the latest events and the journey had taken their toll.
Fredericka's face shown surprise and relief at the sight of the Lore Master at the gate. She recognized her lost com[anion immediately. The company greeted him somewhat cautiously though, nodding heads and exchanging a few words.
Feaandir must have understood their reaction, "Welcome all to Trestlebridge. At least, while it still stands."
Erasm dismounted without rush, being careful with his moves. He patted gently the horse's neck and whispered some calming words. After that, he faced Feaandir again, giving him a long, thorough look.
Fredericka smiled cheerfully to Feaarandir, "I am happy to see you intact! ...Which is not a descriptive for Trestlebridge..." He looked back at Fredericka and something like levity passed across his face.
Faerollas slowly dismounted his horse, looking around the area before crossing his arms.
Erasm pulled his hood deeper onto his face and removed excess raindrops from his traveller's cloak. 'Yes, the town does seem to be in a dire state. Pray tell, what has happened here?'
Feaandir quickly turned to Erasm, "Indeed. Any port in a storm Father always said...though in this case it is the town that needs to make harbor... But forgive me, I mix my metaphors and waste time both. I've told the guard of you and the town awaits your coming."
Ionereth jumped off her horse with a shrug "What happened?" She stood beside her horse petting it.
Feaarandir started explanations, "Particularly yourself, sir. I have been at the end of my powers with my healing skills. The town was attacked by orc-kind some days ago from the North, across the bridge." Feaandir urged them to enter through the gates as they spoke, "I have sent Thorondiin on ahead to watch the bridge. He will warn us of further incursions."
The company followed him, all afoot and holding their horses by the reigns. Fredericka walked last, making it a habit to close the chain.
Feaandir kept talking.
"As ye can see the orcs did their usual work."
Erasm handed the horse's reigns to a stablehand. A silver coin followed shortly after.
"Many are wounded, though none dead." Feaandir bowed deeply, "For that we have to thank the Powers." He gazed intently at Erasm.
Erasm rubbed his shoulder, looking at the town's healer checking bandages, "The town is, indeed, in distress, but, hopefully, there is a lot that can be done."
The company was studying the freshly attacked and half-ruined town. They definitely needed to help the residents before moving on. Ionereth moved her hand over the arrow feathers in her quiver. Counting her arrows, she brought with her. Pondering for a moment on wether she had brought enough with her. Fredericka stood behind her, noticing every little detail, making mental notes of every single seemingly irrelevant part.
Meanwhile, Feaandir continued, "Herbs of healing the town needs. And healers who know how to use them. Or there may be some to tally among the dead before the day is done...."
Erasm leaned heavier on his staff and let out a sigh, shaking his head. 'This is going to take some time, to tend all the wounded. I can see that they make mistakes that can possibly cost a limb in the future.'
Faerollas noted, "And that is something we would not like to see, dead people lingering around..."
"No. Indeed we would not." Feaandir's gaze shifted sharply to Faerollas and he stared unblinking at him. Lost in thought for a time. Fredericka's pupils went wide for a second, involuntarily reacting to Faerollas’ seemingly casual remark, but she kept herself focused on observing the townspeople, absorbing everything, analyzing weak spots and the ways to protect, as well as following the conversation.
Feaandir kept describing the town's plight, "There also be orcs across the river, east of the Greenway."
Erasm looked back at Fredericka, Faerollas and Ionereth, 'The three of you are capable in combat, you should be more than a match to an orc scouting party.'
Faerollas nodded looking to Erasm, "You can trust we will do our best."
Erasm addressed Feaandir. 'Tell me, brother. Would you mind accompanying them? I'm afraid that the orcs may come back with poisoned arrows and your assistance may prove to be invaluable. Also, I will run out of my herbs soon, if I am to tend to all the wounded here.'
Feaandir took the company to a local guest house to drop off unnecessary provisions, as he kept reporting, "Of course. To the orc camp... They made a place of raiding and preparation across the water. Tarkip tribe. From North.”
Erasm grunted quietly, when switching balance and leaning on his staff again. “Feaandir seems to be tired of healing by now, it's something that does make one weary. A change of pace would be splendid and he has done a remarkable job so far.”
Feaandir whispered, “…Angmar. Again."
Erasm nodded at Feaandir's words, 'And yes, since Feaandir knows about what lies to the north of the town, he's an invaluable asset to assist you in your excursion.'
Feaandir did not need to be convinced, "We will need strong arms...stout bows would not be amiss either."
Ionereth grabbed her bow to re-string it. She had to use all her weight to get it to bend enough to be re-stringed. She drew her fingers over the bow string to check if it was done right. It seemed to be.
Erasm continued, 'While I'm barely in shape to travel longer, while more medical assistance is crucial here.' He looked back at the wounded and nodded to himself 'I can't simply leave them here, like that. There are things that make us who we are. If I leave these people in their suffering, I won't be able to forgive myself.'
Ionereth smiled behind her mask. "You're a good man, Erasm."
Faerollas looked between the group, then at Ionereth. "You just stole my words."
Feaandir handed Erasm a pouch, "Here then, please, find a supply of herbs. My last, but the townsfolk need them more than I think we will. The strength of the orc camp to the North is ... much diminished of late."
Erasm left the praise unanswered, accepting the pouch and checking its contents. He smiled slightly. 'Yes, it should prove most useful.'
Feaandir grinned lopsidedly and looked across the rest of the group.
Ionereth pondered "If it's diminished… then we should strike before they have a chance of reinforcing it?"
Erasm secured the pouch and gave them all a look. 'I'm not going to tell you what you need to do. Fredericka and Feaandir are experienced enough to assess the situation you encounter. Do what has to be done and meet me here when ready. As for now, the more I talk, the more someone suffers without need. Hunt well, wolves.' He gave them another reassuring smile and went, slower than usual, towards the town's healer to consult.
Fredericka nodded sagely at Erasm's words, although she did not hide that she would prefer Erasm to stay in their company. It was wisest decision to leave the man to more healing and less fighting, in his condition. Feaandir looked relieved that Freddie agreed with the arrangement, as she has proven herself to be a stubborn nut at times. The company walked through the Northern part of Trestlebridge. The further they went, the more signs of devastation they noticed from the Orcs' raid. Faerollas bid them to remain cautious and not to get ahead of themselves.
... The rain started to get heavier. It was cold and unpleasant, making everything harder to notice and hear. It could be used as an advantage, especially against orcs, not really known for their subtlety. The company decided to go on foot for more stealth, leaving their steed comfortably under the roof of Trestlebridge stables.
Faerollas stepped onto the wooden planks of bridge, "Let us move by the cover of the trees, unnoticed as we strike the orcs from behind."
Feaandir warned "Masters and Ladies, my habit with orcs is rather one more of avoidance than assault. I will gladly heed your counsel." Yet he continued, "Their backs are to the river...but there should be cover one the western side of the camp if my memory serves me aright."
Fredericka passed by Feaandir "I hope there are no shades there..." she addressed the company "Right, let's sneak attack them, plucking out small groups and engaging them "
Feaandir looked to Ionereth and Faerollas. "I know that Lady Fredericka is familiar with these lands. Are ye?"
Faerollas nodded at the question, looking to the road ahead. "I can say I do."
Ionereth was not so much familiar with this land though, other than hunting here twice.
The clouded night sky was dark, covering the stars and moon. With barely any light, the town was quite dark. Outside, Orcs, accustomed to darkness, would have had an advantage - was it not for the rain. With good preparation, they may not know what hit them...
Fredericka increased her pace and spoke with urgency in her tone "We really should use rain to our advantage here, my friends, and do not hesitate, for when the moon comes out from the clouds, the Orcs may see and hear us better."
Faerollas responded with a rather calm tone. "We should not delay then, if we do, we may be too late."
Feaandir added observantly, "I am more the man for leading a boarding party than a war party... wisdom suggests that the people who know stealth lead the way on a mission of stealth..."
On the bridge, he guards held their posts, shaky, but with their resolve unbroken. Big lanterns made the nearest area well-lit. The company has crossed the bridge and, without hesitation, entered the trails up the hill and toward the Orc encampments. Ionereth scanned the area ahead as much as she could in the darkness. She was holding her bow in front of her, ready to shoot. "I don't see any... but that does not mean they won't be there..."
Fredericka tried to sense how far the Orcs might be, ignoring the rain beating on her cheeks and mentally thanking Wyld Hunt tanners for remarkably well-oiled leather. She preferred not to answer now, keeping silent and listening for any signs of the enemy. Faerollas looked to the far reaches of the North. "Let's use this darkness for our advantage." Feaandir gazed off to the North-West, pointing ahead, "Their camps lay up the hill in the trees." To which Huntress Ionereth suggested, "Then we stay close to the trees."
Freddie, naturally the Burglar, agreed "Yes, let's move from cover to cover, as silent as we can, the rain covers the sound of our feet, luckily." She moved semi-crouching, stepping lightly and carefully, always with her senses heightened.
TO the surprse of the company, a lynx padded quietly and wetly out of the rain and followed Feaandir.
"Well good evening my sleeper. Caught anything today?" Feaandir petted Beruthiel and the lynx appeared content. 
Fredericka noticed the lynx and smiled "That's a good assistant to us!" she spoke in whisper.
Feaandir whispered back, "So she has been to me for many a year. I may know little of stealth but she knows all." It was too dark to see Freddie’s smile - she admired intelligent animals no less than humans.
... The lights of the orc encampment started flickering from afar, barely visible in the night and rain. They looked ominous, but there didn't seem to be any Orcs in the nearest vicinity. However, quiet cries of wicked ravens came from the trees. They seemed to be sensing that someone was approaching, but the Orcs nearby seemed oblivious.
Ionereth aimed her bow at one of the birds. "Want the birds gone?"
Freddie whispered to Faerollas and Ionereth thankfully, "Take the birds down quietly, can you?"
Ionereth nodded "Fea you take the right I take the left."
As she aimed...
The crebain cries started to be somewhat louder. They seemed to be more certain that someone is nearby...
Freddie breathed in and out, finally, and smiled faintly to the group, "I know you guys are able to work well together…”
Feaandir noted, "Beruthiel is also partial to crows.”
Faerollas slowly unstrapped his bow, readying an arrow. 'I'll shoot when you shoot..'
Fredericka sounded more urgent now "Don't hesitate or they will raise the alarm!" Her face peaked with desperation. At that moment, the lynx, having hunted and killed one of the crebain, made the rest fall into a sudden silence...
Ionereth shrugged "Well then... none left for me."
Freddie smiled, relieved "All right"
The trees fell silent. Crebain were either dead or hiding well. Fredericka decided that it was a good lesson for the young huntress to be less hesitant, but she didn’t say a word - words are not always necessary. She was sure the huntress would come to her own conclusions tonight. 
Fredericka padded silently behind the trees and peered into the Orc camp, assessing the enemy's strength and positioning. They spread out in opposing directions, not too far to see one another, yet to take a look at the camp from different angles. The company did not dare to make a sound now, even a whisper.
They saw that the Orcs were mostly huddled around the campfire, behaving loudly, self-assuredly. They did't pay attention to the surroundings. Why would they? They are the ones to be feared of...
Ionereth lifted two fingers and pointed at their approximate location.
Freddie nodded and pointed at another direction: two more. She lifted her hand showing four fingers, and then counting for everyone to synchronize their attack. The orcs do not suspect a thing, overconfident and boastful...
3
2
1 GOOooo!
... Quickly, swiftly and mercilessly the small orc camp was obliterated in a matter of seconds. In their surprise the Orcs didn't even manage to raise the alarm, not sure what hit them and when...
The company quickly checked the camp for survivors, and not finding any Orcs alive, moved on into the darkness. Soon only four bodies remained, stretched in grotesque poses, with pain and surprise painted over their dead faces, blank, empty eyes staring into the cloudy, night sky.
The next camp was much larger, well-lit and significantly more protected. It was surrounded by a palisade and had a hue of campfires. Ionereth whispered to Fearollas "That won't be easy... Not many places to hide in there..."
Faerollas moved as fast as he would. "The shadow's our hiding spot."
Freddie sneaked forward, stepping no louder than the falling rain, but she did not yet go to far from the company when Faerollas suddenly got to his knees, noticing some recently made tracks.
"These are fresh..Less then an hour ago"
Feaandir confirmed, "Wolves on the ridge, North of the path."
Ionereth whispered, “The wolves... They can track us by our scent…” - and Fredericka tried to guess whether the Huntress was overwhelmed with the variety of enemies, or tired of night and rain.
The nearby wolves did’t seem to be particularly friendly of the Orcs. Most of them started to circle the fellowship, coming closer to the wiped out camp, probably in order to feast on the dead... Feaandir observed them wearily while the Huntress laid low letting them pass. The wolves continued South, not paying much interest to the fellowship, as long as the humans did not threat them openly.
Fredericka looked at the wolves, then at the company, then back at the Orc camp, with a wicked smile on her face, “The Orc camp is, indeed, more dangerous than the previous one. Let’s try something…”
Faerollas looked to her, "What runs your mind?"
Fredericka responded with a question to the company "How many wolves have you counted and how desperate are they? Let’s have some carnage where carnage is due - the wolves seem to like Orc flesh”
Faerollas looked at Freddie quizzically, ”You suggest we make the wolves attack for us?"
Ionereth nodded "Good idea."
The Burglar turned to Feaandir, the Lore Master, “Can you address them? Can you convince them to stay here to wait for another meal? If we can tease out the Orcs from the camp, a couple at a time, the wolves and us can take them down. If too many of them run out, we escape and leave the wolves behind us. The wolves will deal with as many Orcs as they wish to take” The Huntress smiled "That would be handy..."
Feaandir blinked in surprise, “I regret that I've never had much success conversing with wolves before...you see...they're always hungry whenever I meet them."
The Burglar smiled reassuringly to Feaandir, "Well, that's good! You can suggest them an easy meal!"
Ionereth smiled and suggested to Fredericka "Hey... you don't have any meat on you? I think we can lure them if talking does not work." Freddie shook her head disappointed at herself “I left all supplies in Trestlebridge.”
Feaandir sounded decisive, "Well then. I've spoken to panthers...this should be little different” he eyed a moor-stalker to the South... He looked at his lynx Beruthiel. "Be ready...but stay calm until I give the word”
... The alpha male of the pack growled quietly and the rest stoped. The wolf sensed increased interest and turned it golden eyes towards Feaandir...
Feaandir bent low to the ground and matched the wolf's gaze. The lynx Beruthiel was quivering and tense, her hair standing slightly up on end.
It is hard to describe how the communication between a man and an animal goes through, but he sensed ideas, scents and images from the wolf. He thought of dead Orcs lying near the fire, and the camp ahead. Feaandir emitted a sound akin to a low throaty growl.
…The wind brought the scent of rot from the nearby camp. An unnatural thing, thing that offends the nature itself. The wolves do not hate, they don't know the meaning, but that's the closest association the lore-master may have had with it. Feaandir cleared his mind and focused on an image of the orcs in the hillside camp lying dead, their throats cut, and the game in the hills running free once again.
Ionereth readied her bow in case that the wolves change their mind. Faerollas looked at her, showing his hand to her. “That will make them feel a threat, lower your bow…”
Meanwhile, Freddie was planning how to tease out the Orcs from the camp as she moved closer, crouching behind the bushes, full of mischief and assurance at the same time. She reached the margins of the shadows dangerously close to the enemy camp, but remained in darkness behind the shrubbery, trying to see the Orcs inside and waiting for the Lore Master to give her some sort of a signal that the wolves were cooperating. She understood that she was taking great risk by positioning herself between the Orcs and the wolves, but risk was what this Burglar thrived on. It steadied her mind and transferred her into a special state of mind. When she took risks she was on top of her functioning.
Ionereth stayed back, preparing to defend the Lore Master if something went wrong. Feaandir looked into the wolf's golden eyes for some sign of comprehension or intent. 
…The fires and smokes of the campfire bring death and suffering. The palisade and what lies beyond is danger. The night and rain is an ally, among its cloak the wolves hunt and drink blood, even if the blood isn't sweet and tender like a deer's one. Yet, the hunt cleanses the land. If the Orcs get lured... The wolves stared at Feaandir with its golden eyes, nearly motionless, waiting for a strange creature to comprehend the wolf’s thoughts…
Feaandir brought his hand up in the air and down silently into his fist. They will help.
Fredericka nodded back and followed the shadow line closer to the camp entrance. Ionereth moved forward acknowledging the signal, as well.
Freddie took a dark mauve marble out of her bag and threw it into the lit opening of the entrance so that some Orcs would notice. Beyond them the wolves howled, snarled and barked quietly. The pack spread, following the fellowship in complete silence. The wolves acted like if a single mind was leading them, each knowing its place, efficient and confident.
Two of the Orcish guards noticed a sound of something falling on the ground and move closer to investigate. They left the safety of the lit area, standing on the verge of light and darkness.
Ionereth and Faerollas readied their bows. The Huntress was a small woman, so it was easy for her to remain concealed in the bushes. Fredericka silently gestured them to refrain from shooting, however, pointing at the wolves around. Let the wyld hunting pack take care of this filth! Beruthiel the Lynx apparently also made her kill and silently slipped back into the brush, sliding contentedly past Fredericka with raven-colored wings hanging out of her mouth. The Burglar seemed to be fascinated with the skilled stealth of these furry paws.
... The wolves are but shadows, moving silently and swiftly. The Orcs move out, entering the darkness, disappearing from the sight of the rest...
Their demise was almost instant. Two of the wolves attacked each, one going for the tendons, the other for the throat. In a matter of seconds the two Orcs were dead, being ripped apart...
Fredericka turned away from the ravaging wolves and plotted taking out more Orcs from the camp. There were at least two other guards in another gate. At this moment, the Orcs inside the camp were oblivious of the guards' fate…
Fredericka quickly darted back to the company, suggesting them something even more risky - taking out more Orcs from another entrance, and even luring some out. She added, that if the Orcs become too much for them to fight and if the wolves are no longer with them, they flee towards Trestlebridge.
The wolves disappeared into the dark, silent hunters, waiting for an opportunity to strike, while the Lynx munched on crebain in her mouth. Fredericka must have had some brave plans in her head again, brewing, “Feaandir, how many wolves are in this pack?”
Feaandir looked into the dark, counting golden eyes, “A small group. I should say no more than two or three at most.” Of course, the wolves might not have shown their real numbers, for fierce wild animals they were, much different from wargs, but feared as predators of nature. The pack seemed to be content to lurk around, waiting for an opportunity to strike. It was clear that they were the hunters here and the fellowship is merely a distraction that allows them to kill the orcs...
Fredericka asked them not to follow her and disperse, just in case. Faerollas looked at her, "I can cover you…” Ionereth knelt down to steady her bow inside the bush. She laid her arms against one of the branches and aimed towards the opening.
Freddie sneaked forward, with a long slim stick in her hand. Sneaking by Faerollas, she dropped a word to him “Cover Ionereth. The Lore Master and myself are more protected here.” The Burglar darted from bush to bush, hiding herself and holding perfectly still, blending with the shadows, her movement entirely unnoticeable on the rainy night. Sneaking closer to the camp, she took an assessing glance at the entrance opening. The company could see her face become tense as she looked inside. She lifted her hand up showing the them not to move forward yet, her face intense and alarmed. Surely, they did not know what she saw, until she told them in Trestlebridge later (but that would be another story!) Now Fredericka acted without hesitation. She quickly threw a stick into the shadow in front of the two guards at the gate.
... Two orcs appeared by the previously assaulted gate, carrying torches this time. The flames flicker and are close to getting dispersed due to the rain, but they may discover the two orcs, ripped apart, soon. The guards near Fredericka get alerted easily. They look at one another, then step forward, to investigate the sound...
Fredericka signaled alert and gestured for the company to shoot the Orcs, her face desperately urgent. Momentarily, Ionereth aimed towards the Orc’s neck and released an arrow. Faerollas’ arrow has cut the air in that instance, as well, taking down the enemy. Both orcs fell dead almost in an instant. Still, their deaths seem to have been noticed and an alarm was raised. Orc cries and yells could be heard allover the camp. The Huntress swore quietly. "shit…” She addressed the Lore Master "Those wolves would be handy by now.” Feaandir reached into his pouch and readied what looked suspiciously like gourd.
Freddie momentarily appeared from the nearby bush and showed her reassuring mischievious face to the group, lifting her thumbs that its going to be all right. She noticed the gourd in Feaandir’s palms “No, no! No fire just yet” She whispered. Feaandir smiled at her, “The pitch simply takes some time to get ready. Fear not.”
Freddie spoke quickly in whisper “We might need fire to protect ourselves from enemy and natural predators, in case if we suddenly might become prey” She faced each of the company members “But yes, there is a commander in that camp. We take him out and the deed is done.”
Feaandir commented, “Our friends are not much for open war. They are rather good at taking out lone stragglers. It is not their fault. It is their way.”
... The orcs seemed to get ready to defend. They don't leave the camp, though, ordered by a significantly smarter example of their race...
Fredericka sounded desperate, begging for quick actions “Orcs without a commander are not good…” So she stared squarely at Ionereth now, with a very serious face, “we wish to take down the commander, with an arrow from darkness, and we run to the town as fast as we can, while the wolves will slow down our pursuit.”
Feaandir pondered ”If we wish to kill large numbers of orcs, and do it quickly, we must find another way." Faerollas suggested only the bow masters go forward, but Fredericka appeared to become a stubborn nut at this particular moment “Ionereth and myself will crouch to the gate, I will show her where to shoot, and the two of you stay here until we run, and then we all run”
Feaandir offered, "I may have ways of slowing or defeating the bulk of our foe while you sneak in another way to kill the enemy."
Faerollas asked him, interested, "Feaandir, speak, and I will do as you say."
Fredericka looked at Feaandir "Can you slow them down while not hurting the wolves?"
Feaandir held up a vial of oozy black fluid and another, larger thin stoppered beaker of sticky tar, and nodded to Fredericka.
“That would be wonderful”, agreed Ionereth.
... By that time the orcs seemed to be fully mobilized. The camp is better lit and quieter, though there are still orders barked out in the Dark Speech. The orcs have raised improvised barricades inside and manned them with archers. The leader stood between them, barking orders at the angry orcs... Freddie looked urgent "We ought to decide quicker, the Orcs will be moving anytime now. Let us shoot the leader and retreat. If some Orcs run after us, we let them ran into the tar puddles or get torn by the wolves… If the animals are still not disappointed with us” She whispered last words to herself mostly and beckoned Ionereth to follow.
The Huntress and the Burglar reached the area right by the gate. It was well-lit and decently guarded. One bad step can prove to be fatal... The two can be quiet enough not to get noticed though. Ionereth spotted the leader instantly, and while aiming, whispered to Freddie “Get ready to run.” as she nodded toward the other two. The next second, Ionereth fired her arrow aiming at the skull of the leader “Run!”
... The road here was long and Ionereth did not take good care of her bow, leaving the bowstring on for a long time. Due to rain and other circumstances, the shot was hard. Being in a rush and inexperienced, the arrow flew past the commander, hitting an archer in his shoulder, raising further alarm. The orcs raised warcries in an outrage. Their archers launched a volley of arrows, half-blind, towards the gate. Most of them missed horribly, but one of them hit Ionereth on her right shoulder...
Fredericka, seeing that the arrow didn't hit the desired target, swiftly pulled out a throwing knife, and threw it as well as she could toward the Orc Leader, aiming into his eye, her moves all fluid. She didn't even look at the result because she knew every second mattered now. Freddie grabbed Ionereth by her hand whispering urgently, "can you run? Lets get out of here!”
Ionereth held her hand over her shoulder where the arrow was stuck. She had no time to drag it out, of course, so she simply nodded “I am alright... it's just my arm!” They launched into rapid retreat. Freddie glanced at Ionereth from time to time, making sure that the Huntress can make it and does not collapse from blood loss or fatigue.
... Years of experience paid off. Fredericka’s throwing knife swirled through the air and hit the Orc leader. He stood far enough for the knife to get down in flight, but it made it even better. It hit his throat, making him die in agony. The orcs fell largely in disarray, mostly hiding behind the barricades, but the archers shot another volley of arrows at the gate. This time, thanks to Fredericka's initiative, it failed to do any harm...
Further away, Feaandir eyed the skies again, taking up his staff, which glistened like wet copper in the light of fires. He looked at the barricades again, planted the staff in the ground and stepped back. He held his head up, murmuring, and a flash of lighting stroke the staff in a blinding light. The third volley doesn't come, as whatever Feaandir managed to do, blinded the orcs with a sudden flash. Feaandir grabbed his staff and ran down the hill, followed by Faerollas. The enemy camp was left weakened and leaderless, but it was clear to see that the excursion could have, and should have, gone better... 
Fredericka and Ionereth have reached the bridge with Trestlebridge guards, all wet from rain and sweat. Freddie didn’t even brush off dogwood leaves from her leather jacket, as she examined Ionereth, who kept holding her hand over the shoulder, "Darn I should have moved quicker..." As adrenaline stops pumping through Ionereth's veins, the pain rushes in. The hit hurts more than it should. What was that Erasm had said? 'Let's pray that they don't start using poisoned arrows?'
Freddie tried to reassure the young girl “You did remarkably terrific! Let’s get you to the healers.”
“You call that terrific? I missed quite huge." The Huntress giggled softly. Faerollas and Feaandir were there in a moment. The guards eyed the fellowship with curiosity, but were more intent on making sure that no orcs followed them. The guards seemed to be happy that it was not the case, but, obviously, they did’t want to risk it...
Feaandir rushed up winded but grinning, “I tarred the path after us and the wolves will surely have a feast on the few half blinded orcs who tried to follow."
Fredericka turned to Feaandir "Would you be so kind to tend to this arrow shot?"
"Of course."
Ionereth removed her hand from the shoulder. The arrow was stuck in there.
Feaandir visually examined the wound, being careful, yet Ionereth cried out "Argh!!..."
The wound seemed to Feaandir not too deep, with an arrow easy to remove. The veins around were blackened, though. It was clear that poison was already coursing through her veins.
Feaandir gathered cloth from his belt pouch and handed to Faerollas, "Here, wrap this around the wound and press, carefully so as not to embed the arrow further."
Faerollas grabbed the cloth , moving close to Ionereth and slowly pressing it on the wound. The Lore Master pulled a vial of blue from his sash and uncorked it with his teeth, pouring some fluid liberally on the wound, handing the rest to Ionereth "Drink."
Ionereth reacted, "Uff darn that hurts!"
Freddie found Ionereth’s hand and whispered into her ear "You will be all right, Huntress. Lore Master, do you want me to fetch any herbs?“ as she squeezed her hand to help manage pain.
Feaandir answered "Herbs I do not need now. One does not travel far in the Southlands without cures for common Orcish weapon-poisons..."
Ionereth squesed Freddie’s hand hard in pain as she drank whatever she was given by Feaandir. The poison was, indeed quite common, so the cure worked.
Feaandir pulled a second darker brownish vial from his shoulder sash ”And this as well..."
The wounded Huntress rushed him “Just take out that damn arrow already! It feels like it's burning inside of my shoulder!.. just get it out of there!" SHe shook her head as she drank from the vial “I don't even want to know what it is that I am drinking…”
Faerollas asked the Lore Master "Tell me when to take off the arrow…”
Feaandir knew what he was doing, of course, “Wouldn't take it out yet - arrow head likely barbed. Would probably tear worse going out than going in. It is best to cut the shaft down, isolate and stabilize the remaining shaft with taught bandage, keep direct pressure on, and get her on a table in healers’ quarters to remove it together with Erasm.” The Lore Master took his knife, cut the shaft of the arrow down to about 3 fingers from her skin, deftly and made sure it didn’t move.
One of the guards came nearby, inquiring if they needed help with moving the girl. The guards didn’t seem to be particularly pleased to have yet another wounded in their town, but due to Feaandir and Erasm's involvement, the town couldn’t refuse to help the fellowship. Faerollas kept pressing the cloth on her shoulder, and Fredericka held her hand for a while, before serious procedures started. Feaandir approved, "Yes, you keep that pressure on."
Ionereth sighed "It's my arm that is hurt not my legs. But thanks anyway, guard."
Erasm healed the wounded and later went to rest. Fredericka was nowhere to be found. Faerollas stayed to clean his sword arrows.
The rain subsided a bit, with its drops getting sparser and smaller. There were small patches of night sky visible through the clouds. Ionereth was in care of Erasm, Feaandir and Trestlebridge healers… The wound treatment was relatively easy, with two Lore Masters. The wound was healing up nicely, even though it left Ionereth weakened and unable to use her bow completely, for some time.
The rain eventually faded and the moon and stars shone shyly from behind the clouds. The town rested and healed, while the nearby orc camp fell into disarray. The immediate threat was cast aside, but who knows what tomorrow brings?...
