Dunland

I am far from home..far from my Ennerin..I do hope she is alright and not too worried..I will be with you soon meleth nin..soon

From Enedwaith the road took me to Dunland...Dunland of all places...I know very well of this land, home to differnt clans of dunlendings...also close to Isengard and the presence of Saruman..

A scream.. that of an orc... I felt my head aching as I opened my eyes. I suddenly realised I still lay on my back in the fighting pit. I reached for my sword and slowly sat up. I saw a man and two Uruks in the pit before me. The man leaped forward and plunged his dagger in the neck of an Uruk. I stood up and felt my entire body ache. The man came running towards me chased by the second Uruk. We both dodged the sword attack of the Uruk, and the stranger plunged his dagger in the leg of the Uruk. I finished the job by cutting his throat.

I watched as more and more orcs entered the village. Tensions rose in the village between the Dunlendings of the ox-clan and the their white hand guests. As the day progressed the tension ended up in some brawl fights between orcs and ox-clan here and there. Me and Frerick both were feeling the dread of the upcoming fate that awaited us. Somewhere around noon a Dunland warrior silently came to our cages, carefully looking around if no-one spotted him. He threw at both of us an unspoiled big chunk of roasted boar leg and quickly disappeared again.

It was night time, and the stars shone brightly. The world slowly returned to its normal shape again, as the haze of the shamans sorcery vaporized. I was sitting in my familiar dog cage again. I heard Frericks voice "What did they do to you? You look rather pale.." I shook my head "I have no idea man, the old goon was messing with my head." I soon fell asleep, and awoke a day later.

Sunlight hit my face, a new day. I let my eyes adjust and stood up, but hit my head to the metal bars of the cage. I heard chuckling from the other cage. Peering to the ground I saw left overs of a Dunlending meal thrown at my feet. Without hesitation I ate and drank it all. A wagon came towards the village with long and broad tree logs. The logs were brought towards the pit.

Ever demanding is the supply chain of Isengard. Wood, iron or work forces. It doesn't matter what. All flows to that accursed pinnacle. One of those shipments comes from a very unusual place: The shire. The white wizard has taken a liking to the halfling's leaf but also some of the foodstuff. Normally these supply chains were being handled by brigands under the pay of the white hand, with the exception of some half-orc goons. But this time the cargo was different. A certain delicacy was required for the task. It was not often that Isengard required life cargo from so far away.

Free air which I could not yet enjoy. A group of 5 Dunland riders were chasing me. I spurred and kicked the stolen horse as much as I could. Faster, faster! The horse spurred over the green hills. I saw an arrow pass by. They were gaining on me, and two of them were trying to see if I was in range of their bows.  I had to get off these plains, any forest will do to prevent being captured or killed. Mountain ridges and grass plains was all I saw, great…

They push me to the other side of the village, spears pointing in my back. I can see a wooden palisade and lots of men and women waiting anxiously of what is to come. I get pushed to a weapon rack, and they nudge me to take a weapon of choice. I quickly look around and grab a spear, and search in vein for a shield. They open a low wooden gate and push met inside a fighting pit. The crowd scolds and spits at me, making all kind of gestures that I would rather forget. Fear and anger are a powerful combination, I am filled with it.

The cart hobbled slowly through the green hill landscape. I sat and leaned against the iron bars of the cage. Once in a while I looked to the other two in the cage, a middle-aged blond and braided man of the mark and the second looked like a younger boy who could have been a Bree-lander. None dared or even felt like speaking. I saw we were heading further south. About seven Dunlendings walked around the cart armed with spears and swords. After many hours we reached their village, I saw many banners with a drawing of an ox-head.