Rangers

As the three friends entered Mordor, an uncomfortable feeling passed through them, but they all ignored it. They kept moving through Cirith Gorgor, defeating any orcs in their path, and they passed through Carach Angren. If they all weren't immune to fear, a wave of dread would have taken over their minds - but with the presence of two Eldar, the shadow of Mordor was nothing to them.

Luinor lets his arms fall down to his sides as he looks at Atharan. He hooks his thumbs under his belt and offers a single, slight nod to him to indicate he was listening and ready.
Turchiron smiles at her best he can, His mood still not quite improved, He turns and makes his way back to the large group.
Turchiron folds his arms and fidgets around slightly, kicking around some gravel lightly beneath his feet as he waits.

Something feels overwhelmingly dark and grim about the lands of Ithilien, the land in which Aranya was living her whole life. The ranger felt darkness sinking its claws into once peaceful area of the Old Forests. The Tower of the Rising Moon, which is now known as Minas Morgul, keeps her brothers and sisters in fear as every time she looks at the path leading to it. Every single day she comes there, silently observing the road as if expecting the hordes of enemies approach so he can beware his comrades of the striding Evil, which is about to invade the lands of Moon-land.

The air was damp due to the heavy rainfall overnight and the sun was just reaching out as the first fingers of daylight spread out from the mountains to the east. The ranger already awake and breakfasted was suddenly alerted. The morning breeze which accompanied the first signs of daylight brought an all too familiar smell to his senses. He sniffed the air a few times as if to check what he already knew, there was a fire close by, but this was different.

“This is no ordinary fire” he whispered to himself.

It was a sunny spring afternoon and Fiontann was enjoying or rather was getting sick of being in the bed all day long after the injury. The bolt came from a crossbow and pierced his left side, he was lucky to not have it come out of the back for he was next to the waggon when the port opened and he was shot.

“It was a relief. There are more rangers in culverts than we expected. It looks like a sanitarium. It did not lack apothecaries, but lacked accommodations for all the injured. Some were missing limbs, some were covered in blood, some head bandages all over their heads. The scenery was disturbing and sad despite the happiness we experienced from discovering this sanctuary.”

''Mablung decided to go the other way. We are not meeting up at Bar Hurin. I understand his decisions, meeting point is too far away and we are so close to Osgiliath. He said we better try our luck at night, swimming to the culverts.

''We are on our first steps towards the bridge. We had been told once we reach it the forces of Minas Tirith would breach the west side. With that, we will be able to create and opening channel and a hole in the forces of Mordor occupying the city. However, we are not there yet. We are under heavy fire.''

Ornessar and Katrandil were talking during the whole trip to Aragorn's Camp near Pelargir. The atmosphere there, though, was awe-inspiring. Anyway, it was time for open war. Ornessar followed Elladan and Elrohir, his leaders, while Katrandil followed Aragorn. It was time to retake Pelargir from the hands of the Corsairs.