Somewhere between Breeland and Lone-lands
Bromley was out in the barren land for two days and two nights. He was scorched all day under the hot sun and then froze and shuddered when the temperature dropped at night. He didn’t know where he was or where he was going. All he was focused on was moving East and keeping Weathertop on his left or behind him, though he knew that it was better to to keep it mainly on his left at first so as to get as close to the road as possible. He had to get to Bree as soon as possible and also stay alive. He the first night walking until his legs wouldn’t carry him any more and he collapsed on the now cold sand. He slept uneasily and dreamt of countless orcs at his heel as he walked the desert. He could never escape them and every time he looked back there were there, spreading left and right as far as the eye could see.
The sun was warm and burnt his back forcing him to wake up. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes and licked his lips feeling dangerously close to being thirsty, but he had to go on. And he did.
At dusk he saw light far down in the distance and his heart beat faster, it must be the Forsaken Inn he told himself and tried to hasten. He crossed his arms and rubbed his sides as a desperate measure from the piercing cold and went on with his back hunched. The light didn’t seem to be getting any closer and the moon was now high up in the sky. Bromley begrudgingly decided to find a spot to rest and went on until he did.
A hand covered his mouth and Bromley opened his eyes terrified. He tried to wiggle away, but the pressure on his head was too strong. His eyes fixed on a pair of human eyes and a gloved finger stopped in front of where a nose would be behind a cowl.
“Orcs. Stay quiet. I’ll deal with them. I am no threat to you,” a man said in a muffled, but stern voice and Bromley nodded quickly. “I am Amrath,” the stranger said. “Will you stay here and quiet when I lift my hand?”
Bromley nodded again and Amrath took his hand form his mouth. Bromley sighed with relief but didn’t say a word.
“Good, they are trying to track you down. They caught your smell. Do not move lest they see you,” the man said and got up. He pulled his bow and an arrow and disappeared in the dark leaving Bromley alone.
Several moments passed that seemed like an eternity. Bromley was terrified and he thought that he could hear his heart beat as it was silent all over with Amrath nowhere to be seen. Suddenly he heard a sound like something falling on the sand somewhere nearby and then a growl and a shout. He heard steel hit steel. More angry growls and more sounds of battle, every now and then he would see the sparks of swords as they were clashing against each other and figures moving fast in the dark. Another sound of falling reached Bromley’s ears and soon it was all silent again. He let out a sigh of relief. It was a brief moment that seemed like two hours.
“Let’s go,” said Amrath.
“Where? I have to get to Bree.”
“We’ll set for Bree at dawn. For now we’ll go to my camp.”
Bromley nodded. “I have to get to Bree as soon as possible. The town’s in danger.”
“I know the man to talk to about that. But at this hour it’s better to not travel around here.”
Bromley nodded silently and then two walked on towards the Ranger’s camping place.
Somewhere in the Lone-lands
“Find that traitor Nimraph and bring me his head!” Erenkhad ordered in a loud shout. “Whoever brings me his head will be rewarded handsomely! Whoever brings him alive will be rewarded richly. We’ll show him what we do to traitors!”
His words brought an explosion of roars and curses, Erenkhad lifted his arms and they all stopped.
“But, there aren’t only traitors that we have to punish. There are others as well. We will end them,” Erenkhad declared. “They hindered us once before. But this time it’s different. Berathol!”
“Aye,” a man fixed his grey eyes on Erenhad.
“Pick a handful of men and go to Bree, a place called Hamglen. Find the Black Steel and kill them. One by one.”
“Consider it done,” the man bowed his head and walked away from the campfire
