~ Dangerous Shadows ~ (Open)

[hades]

It felt like a long wait. It was cold outside and the large bird could see his warm breath float away into the breeze. His orange eyes scouted around for any sign of an enemy that might attack his master and their new friend. Silently, slowly, he worked his way through the cold breeze, adjusting his flight pattern as needed. Then, he saw it. A small black figure making its way to the cave! Swooping down silently he circled in the darkness watching the new comer. There was something suspicious about this new character. Dénor would wait, though; surely he must be a poor lost soul? The eagle owl quietly landed above the cave, the only sound to be heard was that of his feet crunching in the cold snow. Surely someone must have heard him!? He hadn’t exactly been quiet about it, but no one took any heed to the small snow drift that had fallen just outside the cave entrance. Voices, one female and one male, Dénor knew that Ginger couldn’t have possibly left the cave without his notice!

Bending down he listened to all that transpired as he could understand every single word, accept he couldn’t. Suddenly, movement caught his keen eyes. Dénor’s eyes narrowed as the shape of the hellish hound that had attacked them in the snow a few miles back came into view. But it was not alone. Upon it was also a hellish looking creature. Neither of them saw Dénor as they entered the cave.

Casswyn was in agreement with leaving. She had turned the mare towards the entrance of the cave, and for a moment the stranger was gone, then when Ginger looked over Casswyn’s shoulder and there he was. Tall, grim and it certainly suited him better! Still not saying anything, she watched at the giant warg returned. It wasn’t alone, its rider was ghastly looking and the hate was obvious on his mutilated face. This sent a shiver down Ginger’s spine and made her eyes want to pop out of her head. She could almost see her own face in her mind, filled with horror as she beheld the creature on the warg. “Should I kill them now sire?” He asked his voice unpleasant to her Elvin ears. He had a large sword and bow with an arrow pointing towards their seemingly only transportation of escape.

Ginger couldn’t take her eyes off that face, everything about it horrified her. It wasn’t until a large bird swept in attacking the already ugly man that Ginger, in synchronization with Casswyn, leapt off the mare. Casswyn gave it a hearty slap and sent it bolting into the night. Ginger’s next thought was Dénor.

His talons raked across the ugly man’s face, blood once again coating Dénor’s claws and lovely feathers. It would take ages for him to get all the blood cleaned out of his feathers! His orange eyes filled with hate, he dropped to the ground in front of the warg, slight dazed at the impact of the stone floor. He hated stone! Then he screeched loudly and scrambled back, his talons scraping harshly on the stone floor, as the beast lunged for him.

Ginger had followed Casswyn to the back of the cave that seemed to lead to tunnels before she heard screeching. Spinning around she watched as for one scary moment Dénor turned his back and took large hops trying to escape the jaws of the warg. Dénor hopped on the cold stone floor as quickly as he could in their direction, the warg on his tail feathers. Ginger raced forward with a knife in hand, and grabbed her feathered friend from the stone floor. She stumbled backwards as the warg’s teeth cut into her arm. Dénor was struggling now, and his claws scratched at the wargs nose, yet Ginger kept a firm grip on Dénor. Her knife in hand, Ginger spun around and darted for the darkness, hoping Casswyn wasn’t too far ahead, blood once again flowing from her arm.

The darkness swallowed her. Sight was impossible, but when Ginger looked back and saw the hazy glow of the fire get smaller and smaller. “Casswyn, where are you?” She called desperately, letting go of Dénor. Her head was spinning as her other senses were heightened. Her hand touched the stone wall to get a hold on something before she would find herself on the stone floor unconscious. Stumbling in the dark, Ginger did her best to keep calm, the pain in her arms was returning. She didn’t dare stop and she didn’t dare to feel her arm for the damage inflicted, she could feel the warm blood and tattered sleeve clinging to her. I am a threat now; I’ll draw them on with this awful stench!

[/color] The fact was that if she became a play thing for the evil back in the mouth of the cave she wouldn’t know what to do with herself! Another fact was that Dénor was safe. If Casswyn gets out of here alive he can go with her if she will let him.[/color] Yes, that would please Ginger immensely!


“Casswyn!?!” She called again, her voice seemed to stop short in the darkness. She hated being underground! That sort of thing was for Dwarves!

ooc; if there is anything wrong with this, let me know what it is and I'll fix it... content wise anyway.
[/justify][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Cindralic]

Cindralic had half a mind to let the warg loose into the caves and let the warg tear the two women apart for such arrogance but there was also a part of him that enjoyed the hunt. This was more exhilarating than having to hunt them in the cold. They were going to go deep into the mountains. They did realize that there were parts of that cave that even he did not know how to escape from. How could they realize that? They were just running for fear. Fear caused people to do crazy things. Cindarlic looked over at Garthen, whose face was dripping with blood, his previous wounds opened, his blood more black than red like it should have been. Cindralic smirked as he looked at his general who grunted in displeasure. Garthen would be fine. He liked to bleed. Cindralic walked over to his general and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Shall we hunt them? It has been so long since we have had a good hunt. Before you join me, send for the orcs, they know these hills better than I and they will be able to sniff them out. Remember though, I want them alive and unspoiled. I will have words with them yet. Actually, on second thought. Kill one of them, bring the other. Preferably, keep the elf alive, she’ll be around to serve me longer than the human. They tend to die off sooner, especially the women.” Cindralic muttered and Garthen grunted in approval before Cindralic took the bow and arrows from his prize warrior. Garthen, mounted the warg and with a great yell, he moved off into the distance again. Cindralic licked his lips. They hadn’t done the best thing by going into the deep darkness of the world. There were much dangerous things than orcs in those sorts of places. Cindralic ran into the darkness after the two women. It was interesting though that they still felt it would be safe to call out to one another in the darkness. Cindralic was already a good enough hunter, he didn’t need the help but he certainly welcomed it. He thought about deciding to hunt them farther into the mountain to let the orcs get to them or see if he could herd them towards Carn Dum. This all connected in there at a certain point. That was the tricky thing about mountains, everything connected, one just needed to spend several hundreds years figuring out all different routes. Cindralic decided to play his own little game, letting his words bounce off the walls and echo into the cave as he spoke. “Where are you my little children? I promise I won’t bite, perhaps claw just a bit.” Cindralic muttered as he walked through the cave, moving at a bit more of a trot than a walk. He had his bow and arrow notched and ready to go should he hear or sense anything. That stupid bird was still around somewhere and that thing was just simply annoying, showing up in all of the wrong times. Cindralic looked down, realizing that he had yet to put his shirt on since he had removed it hours before. It was a good thing that the caves were warmer than the outside atmosphere. Cindralic smiled as his eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness that he was so accustomed. “Come to me and I promise not to kill the bird.” Cindralic jeered. He would most certainly kill that stupid bird if he had the chance.

[cassiopeia]

(OOC: “He liked to bleed” - that is quite possibly the scariest thing I have read in a while!)

Casswyn became aware that Ginger had fallen behind. Spinning around in the darkness, the young rider tried to go back the way she had came, walking cautiously at first with her hands outstretched, before speeding up to a fast walk and then finally a jog, desperate to find her companion as quickly as possible.

“Ginger, I'm here!” Casswyn cried out in return, hearing her voice echo and repeat itself for what seemed an eternity, undermining the very answer the young Rohirrim had offered the Elf. Ginger I'm here Ginger I'm here Ginger I'm here Ginger I'm here here here...! The sound of her own voice was disconcerting and disorientating, and travelling at such a quick pace soon proved one of Casswyn's poorer decisions, as she found herself colliding heavily with one of the cave's stone walls. Fortunately her arm and sholuder afforded her some protection, softening the blow, but it did not prevent her face from slamming into the stone. In the cave it was blacker than the blackest night but, for a brief moment, bright white stars exploded in front of Casswyn's eyes. She cried out in pain and surprise, taking an unsteady step back. Passing a hand over her face, Casswyn realised it was hot and sticky with blood. Had she cut her face? Or was her nose bleeding? She wasn't sure and didn't exactly care.

The darkness was oppressing and to Casswyn, who was used to wide open plains and fresh mountain air, it seemed to be physically heavy, to be slowly crushing her. Taking a moment to calm herself, Casswyn paused, leaning her back against the very wall she had collided with, and burying her face in her hands. It was the panic, as well as her uncomfortable surroundings, that were making her feel this way - she just needed to take a moment to breathe deeply.

“Ginger?” Casswyn called again after a pause, lifting her head out of her hands. She called out a little quieter this time, in the hopes of avoiding the disorientating echoes, but to no avail. Perhaps it was a good thing, the echo made it harder to pinpoint her location, and, while that was bad news for Ginger, it would surely make it more difficult for those wicked men to find her as well. It was just then that the apparently disembodied voice of their pursuer came singing through the darkness, “Where are you my little children? I promise I won’t bite, perhaps claw just a bit.” Casswyn had to clap her hands to her mouth to keep from crying out in fear. The very tone of his voice made her skin crawl! But she had fought creatures of the night before, horrid beasts in the forms of orcs and wargs, she had known fear, too, then but had always triumphed in the end. Admittedly, this man was far more maleficent than anything she had encountered so far but her experience gave her some hope and stoked a fire in her belly.

“Who are you and what is it you want with us?” Casswyn's voice rang out clear and true, sounding much braver than she felt - and again the echo came back to greet her. Casswyn began to move, walking backwards away from where the man's voice seemed to have come from. It was then that she was involved in another collision, not with hard stone this time, but with a warm, soft body.

“Ginger!” Casswyn gasped in a low whisper, her relief obvious.

[hades]

The darkness was thick, and it was close. Ginger, being an Elf, naturally didn’t like going underground even if it was convenient. She much preferred the openness of the woods and the fields. And like most Elves, Ginger hated Dwarves. But now, in this thick overbearing darkness, Ginger had accumulated a small respect for Dwarves! How they could fearlessly go into dark caves and mine their precious stones. If she wasn’t too busy feeling sorry for herself, she would feel sorry for the Dwarves who love to be in these conditions rather than out in the open among trees. With her other senses heightened Ginger could feel every crack in the stone wall as she ran her hands over it. The foul air was stifling and smelled heavily of many nasty creatures and things that crawled into the cracks, or hid in the shadows waiting to pounce. It was then that Ginger picked up the sound of Casswyn’s voice echoing around the damp halls. It filled her with hope, to hear Casswyn’s voice but that was quickly demolished as the villain had now followed them into the cave.

His voice sounded no better in an echoing fashion than it did out in the cold. It sent a shiver down the she-elf’s spine as the words rattled around inside her head. Ginger had, had enough clawing for one day! She felt the hair on the back of her neck raise a little as her senses detected that something was drawing closer. Perhaps it was their hunter, she didn’t dare breathe. The she heard her name be called out again, it was closer this time. “Casswyn?” She didn’t like her voice to bounce around the hall walls.

“Come to me and I promise not to kill the bird.” This and the mixture of surprise at being bumped into by some-one-thing, and the thought of someone wanting to kill Dénor, made Ginger shout in a mixture of grief and surprise. It echoed, like everything else in this wretched tunnel seemed to do. Then, she heard her name whispered and recognized Casswyn’s voice. “Oh thank goodness,” She whispered, “I was afraid I was lost forever! I nearly considered giving myself up.” Her relief was just as obvious as Casswyn’s. Although Ginger wasn’t really going to give herself up without a fight, she didn’t doubt that the other elf had been serious about killing her feathered friend. Ginger took hold of hope, hope that Dénor would find a way out of the tunnels without endangering his life.

[Cindralic]

The caves were a wonderful place. Cindralic had grown up in the dark places of the world, one of things that Cindralic remember about the second age and the dark days of Sauron. He had lived in caverns, caves, dark woods, wastelands and even Mordor itself in his lifetime and had grown accustomed to the darkness, the stench and the weight of complete and utter black. Cindralic had hunted in it, slept in it and breathed it for so many years so finding the two women within was all too natural. He heard the voice cry out to him in the darkness, bouncing off the walls, echoing in the caves, filling his ears. She sounded like she was sure of herself, like there was no terror in her mind. That would have been a first for him. Cindralic had a way with scaring people and intimidation. It was how he had taken command of the orcs and the rough men of the north. He had little tact when it came to live negotiations. He bargained with peoples’ lives. He didn’t need smooth or cunning words. He just needed his power. That was enough to show people who was in charge. Cindralic thought about his answer to the women. Should he tell them who he was and what his plan was? Should he tell them that one of them was probably not going to make it out of this cave? Perhaps not. He did need to think about keeping himself somewhat hidden. He didn’t want either one of them escaping to go run and tell the rangers, or the Rohirrim, Valar forbid and have them come investigate. That simply wouldn’t do and it would far too troublesome and to be complete honest, he didn’t know if it was even a war he could win presently. “I am a hunter and you are the prey.” Cindralic responded, his voice changing as it bounced from wall to wall, yet his sinister tone remained. Cindralic smirked as he thought about a little game he could play with them, knowing that the longer they stayed in the caves, the less their chances of survival. The orcs would fill them and Garthen would send more than enough, including himself to flush them out. Some people would say that it was a great amount of work for so little a thing as two women but Cindralic enjoyed the torturing of minds and he was going to need to pure and elegant looking women to be ambassadors for him at some point. It was simply a matter of deceiving their minds, or brainwashing through torture and….other methods. “I will make a deal, if one of you kills the other, the victor shall walk away. The deeper you go, the longer you hide, the more orcs shall come, the farther lost you shall become until you reach my city and then you shall become undone.’’ Cindralic hadn’t meant to say his city, nor had he meant to rime but it had happened and he was going to go with it as he stalked, listening for breathing, for whispers, for the distinct sounds of the human woman moving. The elf would make little noise in the caves but the human, her chances were even less of escape.

[cassiopeia]

Casswyn's relief was so intense that it was almost palpable. Having found Ginger she reached out, fumbling in the darkness to lay a gentle hand on the Elf's forearm. The physical contact brought the Rohirrim lass great comfort. Before she could speak, before she could answer Ginger's words (for surely the Elf had not meant them, but the words made in jest steadied Casswyn still further) the eerie voice of the vile pursuer filled the cave once more. So he considered himself the hunter, eh? Casswyn supposed that he was, for there was no way on this earth she would seek him out, but if he should catch up with them he had best be prepared for the sting of her blade. If she was going to die, she was at least going to mark him forever, or put out one of his horrid eyes before the light left her own. The Rohirrim woman set her jaw. No, she would not die tonight! Casswyn might be a woman, she might know fear, but she the tragic events of her had forged a steely determination to survive. Having lived to see those she loved fall to despair and death, to dig their graves herself... there had been no profound, lasting joy since those dark days and heavens forbid she should expire before knowing such love and laughter again. Then the voice spoke again, issuing his wretched proposal. Listening closely, a furious scowl crossed the young woman's face. Casswyn would never sacrifice another to save her own skin, such selfishness and cunning was beyond her!

“Fiend!” Casswyn whispered vehemently under her breath before glancing in the direction she supposed that, in light, she would see Ginger's fair face. Continuing in a low and urgent murmur, Casswyn added, “I realise we have known each other only a few short hours but I trust you, implicitly, and I hope that you can do the same with me. I will not betray you.”

Many might deem it unwise for her to put all of her trust into a relative stranger but the events of the night had created a deep and powerful bond between them, or so it seemed to Casswyn. Ginger was her sister-in-arms and when Casswyn had proclaimed her trust, she had spoken the truth.

“I know not what city he speaks of but I do not doubt him when he says that orcs will come,” in the darkness Casswyn frowned, desperately trying to decide on the best course of action. They could not go back, could they? It would involve passing that maleficent hunter and Casswyn was certain that this stifling dark was a second home to him, he would be in his element, but was it worth a try? “Perhaps if we journey a little deeper we can find another way out. It seems the only choice, unless we turn back...”

The entire time she spoke, Casswyn's hand remained resting on Ginger's forearm, taking courage and strength in the knowledge that she was not alone in this. The other rested delicately on the hilt of her sword, lest they find themselves ambushed. Fighting in the sheer black of the cave would be a dangerous business, one that Casswyn would rather avoid at all costs.

[hades]

Ginger’s words were only partially made in jest. She wouldn’t lie about feeling as if all hope was lost. She felt Casswyn take hold of her forearm and she winced slightly. The warg who had come down upon her had taken its nasty claws and raked them across her skin, leaving large gashes. The she-elf had lost a lot of blood, and she thanked her lucky stars that she hadn’t fainted, or seen spots before her eyes. When Ginger had paused she could remember only thinking of a warm place to stay for the night and to fill her belly with food. All that seemed far away now as the entire prospect of death drove it from her mind, as these kinds of situations would. Be that as it may, it didn’t keep Ginger from feeling hungry even now. She wondered, only for a moment, if Casswyn had, had anything to eat before they had met. If they were both starving they might not last a little more than a week before dying of starvation. Orc wasn’t exactly edible, you know. Neither was Orc food, accept to an Orc perhaps.

One of us kills the other!? Who do you think we are?

[/color] She wanted to scream at him, but he didn’t. Their hunter was being most annoying by not giving up the chase that neither prey was going to give up without a fight. Ginger didn’t like these situations; she would find a way to live! Ginger didn’t exactly have a way with words but if worse came to worse she was sure she could find someone among his, ah, regiments who hated and feared him all at once. Bribery wasn’t her thing, unless it was directed at Dénor. She wouldn’t kill Casswyn; the Rohirrim woman had helped save her life! She was indebted to her. Killing her was in no way the right way to go about thanking someone who saved your life… but, now that Ginger thought about it that was probably what this villain was thinking.

Betrayal. What a word to use in this hour! “This is turning into a very long night.” She whispered back, “But I will trust you as far I can see.” This was pretty far! Elves were known for their wonderful sight. “I would not betray you either.” Neither of these women would come out unchanged from this. Ginger found herself wondering where they would go after they escaped this wretched place. “[color=6B7A30I do no doubt that either.[/color]” She responded in a low whisper, “He may end up sending more than Orcs after us should we evade him any longer. A hunter can get very irritated when their prey plays hide and seek for too long.” Ginger was well acquainted with the way things worked, and she figured that Casswyn was as well. “I do not travel in caves; a Dwarf would come in handy about now. I believe I have grown a sort of respect for their kind being able to live in these dark, damp conditions. Anyway, I agree, let us move farther into the darkness. Should fate be kind we will find our way.” All this was whispered into Casswyn’s ear.

But how would they respond to their hunter? Would they, should they just remain silent? Ginger’s next immediate concern was how loud Casswyn would be. She was no Elf. Perhaps if she were, it would make the job a lot easier! Concerned now, she shook her head. This made a tad dizzy, taking a hold of Casswyn’s shoulder she steadied herself. “Let’s move.” She whispered, using the cave wall as a guide.

[/justify][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Cindralic]

Cindralic wondered how good the elf’s eyes would be in the dark. His would perfect because of his upbringing. He wondered if hers would be the same; likely not. How fast could they possibly move in the blackness? They would have to be slow and weary of very curve and turn, every wall and step because it could bring new tragedy with every movement. The human woman would slow them and that stupid bird, where the hell did that thing go? Cindralic continued through the darkness, running through them, not bothering to be slow and steady. He knew the walls and caverns, or at least these immediate ones very well and eventually he was going to find their tunnel and he was going to come for them. That moment came sooner than he had thought. He loved the fact that they were both women and they had this ridiculous need to speak to one another while they were being hunted. Did they not know that his hearing was nearly as good as his sight? The elven woman should surely have known and yet they continued to make the mistake. Finally, Cindralic narrowed down the tunnel they were in. He was still a good distance away but he knew he was in the right place because the echoes were much more defined and only had two walls to bounce off. The sound was coming right at him from the two women. Cindralic smirked, loving that they were trapped. They could continue on and they would come to a fork, if they went right, they would go towards Carn Dum. If they went left, then they would head towards three or four goblin caves and even Cindralic didn’t spend much time in that direction. He could force them to the right.

Cindralic drew back his bow, as sound that with the women’s chattering, they may or may not hear. He released his fingers and the arrow soared through the air down the long tunnel. “Hello my pretties. Does it scare you to be all alone in the dark, not knowing what will happen to you? Not knowing whether or not someone will be there to meet you at your next turn? They would not be friendly.” Cindralic’s words cut through the air exactly how he wished. They were as dark as the cave itself and as cold as the cave floor. Cindralic pulled back another arrow in his bow and loosed it into the hallway again in a slightly different angle in case they had decided to go against a wall and not in the center of the hallway. “Down here it is about who is stronger, who is faster. Leave the weak and the wounded, forget the lame and injured. Save yourself.” Cindralic knew that they were both banged up from their engagement with the wargs. He could be referring to either one of them. He wanted to stir up some mistrust between them. Why did women bond ten seconds after meeting on another? Two men would have killed each other and joined him by now. Then again, Cindralic would have killed the two men faster back at the mouth of the cave as well. He didn’t need more men. He didn’t need to recruit them. Cindralic smirked as he moved closer and closer, his walk turning into a silent trot as he moved towards the cave, listening for them. There were no little exits or convenient caverns to duck into, just the long dark hall until the Y turn where they would have to decide. “Do you hear the orcs yet? The sound of a thousand creatures that feed on fear and flesh?” Cindralic jeered. He was counting on the elf smelling and or hearing the orcs coming from the one turn and avoid it. It would be prudent.

[cassiopeia]

It was indeed turning into a long night, just as the days leading up to this had been long. It had been some time since Casswyn had had a decent rest. Not since she had left Bree, in fact. Still, she felt remarkably present in both mind and body, despite the mental and physical exhaustion, the hunger and thirst and, of course, the injury. The blood had long stopped flowing but the lacerations sorely needed tending to, her forearm had grown stiff and stung with a heat like fire. It was a pity that she had injured her sword-bearing arm but the young woman remained hopeful it would not undermine her in a skirmish. Casswyn listened intently to Ginger's hushed tones, nodding her head in agreement in the darkness. Orcs were surely not the most vile creatures this man had enlisted in his services. It certainly seemed that this malevolent figure was in some way a leader or ruler out here, judging by the way he had command over the wargs and that vile manservant. Though she did not realise it, a half-smile appeared on her lips at Ginger's mention of Dwarves. Aye, Casswyn had also found a new, deeper and more profound respect for them! If only they had one in their company now, they would have a better hope of navigating these underground tunnels. That said, Ginger was undoubtedly better equipped in eye, ear and stealth than Casswyn herself to navigate these foul passages. A new, unpleasant and desperate feeling stung the Rohirrim's heart. What if she held the Elf back, putting them both in danger? For now, Casswyn pushed the unsettling thought aside. If she had to deal with it later, she would, though surely it would seal her own demise.

The pair began to walk, supporting and guiding each other, following the wall of the cave. They had gone but a little distance when the sound of an arrow whistling past heralded that the hunter was only a short distance behind them, veiled somewhere in the darkness. His voice returned, bringing with it some of Casswyn's fear as the cold words chilled her heart. Be brave, Cass, the young Rohirrim told herself firmly, There are worse things to face than death. And by that she didn't mean torture. Oh no. The image that sprang to mind when this thought ran through her pretty head was the wretched, soulless creature that had once been a man, that now serving a dark power out here in the wilds. That was a fate worse than death.

The second arrow flew much closer to them. Casswyn's human eyes saw nothing in the darkness and she could only rely on her other senses so far. Her hearing was good but it could not compete with the hearing of an Elf. Still, the second arrow was so desperately close that it spooked the young rider. Its song sounding loud in the dead silence of the cave, the breeze indicating that it had passed only inches away. The young woman did not cry out, not making any sound to indicate her fear – she refused to give the dark man any more satisfaction. Very well may he say to leave the weak and wounded behind, for he surely knew that included both of them! And that neither would betray the other! And very well may he tease them about what might lie in wait up ahead, for surely it could be no worse than what lay behind!

They had continued to walk but now... now something had changed. Even Casswyn's relatively dull human senses detected it. There was a faint wind flowing through the tunnel where there had been none before and the air smelt different, though of what Casswyn could not say. Had a new tunnel opened its way to them?

"Ginger," Casswyn whispered to her companion, hoping that she was right in believing that the Elf's eyes and nose would be much keener than her own in this merciless gloom, "What do you see?"

[hades]

What had happened to the bird indeed! Well, after Ginger carried him into the darkness, she let go. He felt to the ground with a hoot, but it was covered by the voice of their pursuer, and his master’s calls to their new friend. After that he was forgotten, or so it seemed. The large bird fluttered over a rock on the other side of the cave, his orange eyes reflecting the light in the cave, which there was hardly any. Only now did Dénor regret having flown into a tantrum and flying north of the original heading. Shame consumed the owl, and he was thankful for the darkness, for his shape would be a jumbled back mass. His only regret to that was that he wasn’t a spider. Spiders had the advantage of spinning sticky webs to capture their prey and then consume it. Dénor wasn’t a spider, he was an owl! Many things were different between the two. For another instance, spiders didn’t have claws to give away their position every time they wanted to move. If their pursuer couldn’t pick up the raking of his talons against the rock, he must have been too intent on his livelier prey than himself.

Then, Dénor stopped shuffling. His hearing heightened, as well as his sense of smell, he could feel shapes moving in the dark. Black masses moved swiftly past him, but their voices were feminine as they whispered to each other. Too bad for the bird, he couldn’t understand a word of it! Never the less they were on the move and not far behind them followed their hunter. For a scary moment the tall elf paused beside him, lifting a bow to his sight. Dénor heard him draw it back and then the familiar sound of the release. The bird did nothing. He was going to attempt a different strategy for getting out of the darkness. He heard the arrow tip clang off the cave wall, which to his already sensitive hearing, was much louder to him than to the others. The dark elf didn’t move. He raised another arrow to his sight and released again. Still, Dénor didn’t move. He remained statue still, the only way the vile elf would notice him was if he looked to his left, or stumbled upon him. Dénor’s pupils were large as they adjusted to the darkness, making the orange pigment of his eyes like light behind a fully eclipsed moon. Through these he watched the dark elf, fully interested in his every move.

Ginger felt her way along the wall, feeling every flaw under her fingertips. Yes, a Dwarvish companion would be wonderful to have at a time like this! However, she could only imagine that he would have said something to take away all hope. Like their hunter was doing now. His attempts were indeed working on Ginger, the prospect of Orcs and not making it out alive was eating away at her conscience, like decay upon a dead animal. She wondered if her Rohirrim friend was experiencing the same things, but didn’t dare speak anymore than she had to. To the she-elf’s surprise an arrow flew by not too far away. She wasn’t focusing on their pursuer; she was too busy looking for a fork in the tunnel. But now her ears picked up the sound of his voice echoing off the tunnel walls, their words forcibly entering her mind. No, they wouldn’t be friendly! And the uncertainty was going to drive the she-elf mad before long. Trembling, Ginger was getting sick of his game. Couldn’t he just be silent for crying out loud!? NO! No that would be bad, that would be very, very bad! It would mean he was planning something, or that he was right behind them.

Peeved now, Ginger looked behind Casswyn half expecting to the tall dark Elven-figure behind her. To her relief he wasn’t. But that didn’t stop her from feeling like a caged animal hunted for sport and pleasure, rather than a useful cause. Ginger had only just turned back when the sound of an arrow hit close by. She grabbed Casswyn’s arm firmly, hopefully the Rohirrim woman would get the hint that she wanted her stay where she was at. Moving silently in the dark Ginger bent down and felt the ground. When she could find nothing between the wall and the path way, she felt her way up the wall finding the arrow lodged into a crack. If she could get it out in one piece, Ginger would have her four arrows once again. Gently she took hold and pulled, wiggling it up and down until it came loose. Quickly putting the arrow into her quiver she tugged gently on Casswyn’s arm and they kept moving.

Oh yes, she felt it. She felt it before Casswyn had. Of course by now her eyes were used to the darkness and she could distinguish one rock from another and she hopped that with Casswyn following her she had avoided many of the larger rocks that would have been stumbling blocks. “Ginger, what do you see?” Peering into the dim black she could just make out a split in path. “There is a fork,” She muttered, “Right… or Left?” she finished. Orcs and Goblins would indeed have no problem finding them. Gingers own fear could probably be smelled from where they were throughout the entire tunnel system. Neither direction seemed like a good option, but there were foes behind them and foes in front of them, the stench of Orc and Goblin was stronger here, and the she-elf hoped that her companion was able to pick it up as well…

ooc; if there is anything I need to change, let me know!!

[Cindralic]

The drums in the mountain were starting as the orcs began to get excited. Garthen had done his work to alert them. Nothing moved faster than an orc scout telling his fellows that there was prey nearby. The orcs and goblins had infested these mountains for years and ages and they knew all of the mountains and could smell the fresh prey. Their armor was coarse and twisted steel and hard leather and their weapons were made of every mangled and twisted sharp object good enough for gutting an enemy. They were vile creatures and the ones that lived in these mountains were loyal to Cindralic as opposed to the dark lord Sauron. Cindralic took great care to make sure they knew not of his possible awakening. Cindralic could not lose the might of the orcs because he did not trust the bloodlust of men to follow his cause and there were too few elves to help him in his quest. The orcs began to scurry and hunt with no regards to sound or care of their presence being found out. They care only about the prey that had walked its way down to their caverns. Their drums went on louder and louder as they continued to scurry up the caves of the mountain towards the two women.


Cindralic heard the sounds of the drums as he walked closer to the women. He laughed a bit to himself. He knew from where they came and that meant that Garthen was successful in alerting the creatures to the women’s presence. Now it was going to be a race to see who got to the women first. It would be much safer for them if Cindralic was the first to get there. Cindralic could give explicit orders from neither of them to be hurt and that still may not happen knowing the mentality and hunger of orcs. Cindralic was going to need to be the one that reached them first for sure. He smiled darkly as he thought about the fright that the two women must have when they heard the drums. He imagined that beads of sweat were running down every part of their body, their eyes wide eyed at the realization of their impending danger. If anything it was going to cause them to go down the path that he had already chosen for them. Garthen was waiting down that path for sure at this point but even that sick twisted man was going to be safer than the orcs that were coming. Cindralic notched another arrow in his bow. Twang!

“Come now ladies, you must give up this little chase. I won’t hurt you too much, just what is necessary.” Cindralic said with a smirk. Of course he would say that he himself would not hurt them. He said nothing about Garthen or Darius doing anything to them, which they were capable and willing. Cindralic continued to move down the hall. He knew he was getting close to them now if they hadn’t decided to take a turn. He loosed another arrow in their direction, doing his best to goad them on. He needed them to go in the direction he chose and not off on their own like fools. Cindralic placed the bow on his back and checked his quiver. Three arrows left. That would be enough. He took out his black sword from his garbs. He was going to be in hand to hand combat soon enough.

[cassiopeia]

Casswyn was incredibly grateful for Ginger's guidance. The Elf, gently yet firmly, steered the young woman this way and that, no doubt ensuring that Casswyn avoided the worse boulders and shards of rock. It was also with thanks to Ginger that Casswyn had been kept clear of the arrows that the hunter had sent after them. However, the young rider had a sneaking suspicion that if he really wished to hit his targets, he could do it without breaking a sweat. The hunter was... playing with them. They had paused and Ginger had asked which way Casswyn thought they ought to go. Even Casswyn's dull human nose detected the vile reek of orc (it was ghastly, how could Ginger's sharp Elven senses tolerate it?!) that that came seeping like a poison from the left side of the cave. And, now, there came the distant clatter and dreadful drums of the orcs. Oh gods...

Casswyn's heart sank into the pit of her chest. She was not prepared to give up, not by any means, but the hope she held for their escape was slowly being chipped away. Orcs... the very thought of them made the Rohirrim feel unwell. She had slain more than her fair share of them in her time, oh yes, but she never had she encountered them in the dark, on their home turf, and never as many as would surely come for them now. The situation made Casswyn recall the tales she had been told growing up, by her father and his friends, around the fire. Some of the tales had been fabricated, to scare an unruly girl to stay on the farm and to not wander too far. After all, they lived and toiled in the shadows of the mountains south of Edoras. But some, most in fact, had been the truth, or close to it – terrible stories of what had happened to the unfortunate souls who had crossed the orcs' path and been overwhelmed. Some said that the foul creatures would sometimes spare the women, dragging them into the caverns to meet a fate far worse than death - arguably even worse than the fate which had been granted to the unfortunate servant of the hunter.

Casswyn couldn't help herself, she clapped a hand to her mouth and her heart began to race at blinding speed. It was perhaps a good thing that she hadn't eaten in so long or she might have actually been sick at the thought. For a moment the sheer panic of that unspeakable fate was almost enough to send her flying straight into the arms of the hunter – which was no doubt what he desired! Bringing herself back to the present moment, getting a tighter hold over her emotions, Casswyn tilted her head and listened intently. It was then that another arrow was leased into the gloom, Ginger pulling Casswyn tight and out of harm's way.

“Right - we go right,” Casswyn whispered, breathless with anxiety. The young Rohirrim of course had no idea that this path would lead them to the dreaded Carn Dûm - all she knew is that it would lead them away from the orc filth and their malevolent pursuer. As they moved off again another arrow went soaring past, indicating that they had made up their minds in the nick of time. If we survive this, Casswyn thought vaguely, There are few that will believe this tale.

[hades]

Wasn’t their hunter being a little redundant? Ginger remembered when he first stated that he wouldn’t hurt them, only what was necessary. She wanted to shoot back an answer asking what his definition of ‘necessary’ was. He was getting on her nerves now, this relentless chase made it seem like he had never had this much fun since… the last time he had this much fun, whenever that was. He had Ginger scared for her life, scared of what may lay ahead, scared of this cave and officially scared of him. She collected another arrow, this time from the floor, checking the tip before putting it in her quiver. The she-elf held no memories, which she was aware of, of being told to stay inside and to stay close, or scared into doing so by gruesome stories of death and tragedy.

The drums of the Orcs and Goblins rang through the dark tunnels. This sent another shutter through Ginger’s body, but this time it had a lasting impression. Shaking uncontrollably, Ginger thought of the horror that could befall them should they linger any longer. If there was light in the tunnel, anyone would be able to pick out the look of panic on the she-elf’s face. She swallowed hard as she waited for Casswyn to pick a direction, before she had a chance to ask again the choice was clear. Right! “Right – we go right!” Alright! Right it was. Taking the right, Ginger saw that the path was well worn. There were hardly any rocks to stumble on, as far as she could see. This would make things easier… but was easier better? The sound of the drums and now the squealing of the Orcs could be heard distinctly now.

Was it better to just be caught by the hunter, or, to die a terrible death at the hands of terrifying creatures? Well one couldn’t call them hands now, could you? Stopping she pushed Casswyn ahead of her. Her eyes searched the darkness for the shapes their now pursuers. If the she-elf could have been honest she would willingly admit that she only knew of Orcs. She had never fought one out right, let alone several of them. Being a traveler she didn’t exactly stay in one place, but she always took the safest roads. Bandits were the worst things she had, had to deal with. Yet, those hadn’t been Orcs. Turning now, she took off down the hall at a silent jog, taking a hold of Casswyn when she managed to pass the Rohirrim, “Try to keep up.” If she had to slow her pace she would, to leave the Rohirrim behind was to leave her to a fate worse than death! This, Ginger was sure, would be no problem for creatures of the darkness…

So!! He hadn’t seen him after all. What a lucky break, ah-ha. The Dark Elf took off after his master and her new friend, not bothering to look behind for the bird. Claws scraping on the stone, the giant owl had no problem gaining flight. Silently he shot out of the tunnel and back where the fire was. The gradual build of the light saved his poor eyes from the near blinding light of the fire, then out in the darkness, the open and the cold. Luckily it had stopped snowing, but the wind was now howling hungrily through the trees. Using the current he elevated himself high above the forest canopy, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of life.

Diving down, professionally of course, Dénor looked for the tracks of the animal that was the humans steed. Gliding gracefully over the snow covered ground searched.

[Cindralic]

Carn Dum was there destination then. He smirked as he thought about his prey running right into the very mouths of what they were trying to escape. Cindralic was quickly behind them and he knew it, coming to the fork in the tunnel he paused, listening for the orcs. He could hear their footsteps coming by the hundreds. It seems like they had woken all of the camps then. Cindralic knew he was going to have to hustle because the orcs were going to navigate the next sector of tunnels much better than him and he didn’t need any orcs getting the wrong ideas. The women were his prize and not a play thing or chew toy. Ah yes, he could see them now, the two women slowed by the human who had no way with her blindness in such a dark place to keep pace with the elf companion or to outdistance Cindralic. “Stand and fight my pretties.” Cindralic gloated, knowing that he was only a hundred yards away or so, his hideous voice echoing down the long hallway to the two women. “Surely you aren’t exhausted from your flight. Surely one of you must be good with a blade.” Cindralic beckoned as he continued to close the distance between him and the women. His sword was held, pointed down as he ran and away from him for now. He would be needing that quite soon. Which one of them would be the better swordsman? For whatever reason he assumed it would be the Rohan woman. Rohan women weren’t experts but they were no weaklings either. Cindralic turned his head as he heard the orcs continued to get closer and then he felt one near him, raising his sword as he looked upon him. Cindralic looked behind him as he could see their eyes behind him. It was hard to outrun orcs in tunnels. Cindralic lifted his sword and cut down the first orc from the ceiling. He had no need of them getting ahead of him. Cindralic knew that even if the women continued and did beat him in distance for a while, they would eventually run into Garthen, which would not bode well for them either. Cindralic turned to face the orcs that were behind him. He needed to slow them down. He knew that they had allegiance to him but orcs also needed to be shown who was master and this was what Cindralic was going to do. Cindralic turned, facing down the group of orcs moving towards him. “Better run ladies. I can only kill so many of them. How many can you kill?” Cindralic yelled before he decapitated the first orc with a swift movement, cutting into the group, parrying with his sword and dodging their blades skillfully as he continued to cut down his enemy. The orcs seemed more interested in the easy blood and many of them continued on over the ceiling and on the wall. They would get to the women soon.

[cassiopeia]

Casswyn jogged in the darkness with Ginger, at first timidly but as they picked up pace she went with it, trusting her companion to stop her from ploughing into another wall. It made her think of riding in the night-time, when Uvaer's eyes were far sharper than her own. Casswyn clung to these memories of happier times like a drowning man to a raft, hoping they would in some way act as a talisman against the darkness.

But when their pursuer suggested that they, or at least one of them, ought to stand and fight Casswyn's determination faltered and the happy memories slipped from her grasp. Perhaps she ought to let Ginger go on alone, the Elf would surely make her way through the caves faster without an effectively blind companion to hold her back. Being an Elf, Ginger would have decades and centuries of life ahead of her. Casswyn could get out of this mess only to find herself being killed in a bar brawl in a year's time. In the darkness, Casswyn bit her lip as uncertainty clouded her mind. The Rohirrim woman was exhausted, the toll of the adrenaline, fear and bitter cold finally catching up with her, making her young body and soul ache. It was almost enough to make her turn heel and walk back the way they had come. To meet death head-on. In light, she might be able to hold her own against the man. But in the dark? It was unfair, for she could see nothing. There would be no hope and he would stab and slice at her, slowly no doubt, prolonging her pain and misery. Could there be any honour in such a suicidal death? But it might be enough to save Ginger and that would be honour enough for Casswyn. The young rider squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, offering up a prayer that death would come for her quickly, that she would be brave in her final moments.

Casswyn was about to open her mouth, to say farewell to Ginger, to thank her for her patience and efforts, to wish her luck, to tell her to take Uvaer as her own, whenever a new commotion broke out behind them. Casswyn slowed, glancing over her shoulder out of habit – she could see nothing down here of course. Their pursuer... was killing the orcs? That didn't seem to make much sense, unless he was determined to have them for himself. Either way, Casswyn's first instinct, stemming from a deeply ingrained desire to help others, was to run back, to assist, to hack and swing her blade in the darkness and kill as much of the orc scum as possible. But, of course, to assist one who had all but promised them pain was insane. Insane. Ha, now there was a word! If they survived long enough to get lost in this abyss Casswyn would surely lose her mind.

Speaking of her mind, Cassyn's thoughts were flying rapidly through her head. She groaned, raising a hand to her forehead. It was one thing after another. This tunnel could go one for miles. Miles and miles and miles. They might collapse with exhaustion and blood loss before they saw the end of it. Or it could lead to a dead-end. Perhaps they ought to put the last of their strength, the last of their reserves, into fighting off the enemy. Perhaps Ginger should go on without her. These thoughts flew through Casswyn's mind in a mere moment but she could not find the words to say them aloud. Instead, they continued journeying away from the ruckus (thanks heavens the path was smoother here), but then Casswyn stumbled, managing to catch her balance before she fell. Even still, it decided something for her. She was not going to be able to outrun the orcs. Focusing her mind on what was to come, Casswyn slowed and drew her blade from its sheath, hearing it sing in the gloom. The sound gave her courage.

“Ginger...” Casswyn started uncertainly, keeping the sword point down and away from her body. Even as she had began speaking she did not know what it was she was going to say, only that she didn't want the choked feeling in her throat to trespass into her voice. After a pause, the words came to Casswyn, and they were surprisingly calm and collected considering the great turmoil she felt inside, “Keep going. I will slow the orcs and catch up with you, if I can.” The implication was there - if one of us is getting out of this mess, it's going to be you, don't endanger yourself by waiting for me.

~

With her mistress's signal Uvaer had bolted out into the snow at high speed, her sharp eyes picking out a sound route that took her along the mountain side. Slowing, now that she had covered a good deal of ground, the mare's ears swivelled back and forth. It was quiet, at the moment at least. She had not been pursued from that foul-smelling cave and the warg pack did not have her scent. Uvaer nickered quietly into the snowy surroundings, knowing no reply would come. Her mistress was in trouble and, although the horse did not understand the intricacies of what was happening, she knew the situation was very grave indeed. Uvaer would not play chase with the pale rider tonight, instead she would seek her mistress out herself. And so the mare stood, waiting for instinct to draw her one way or another. It usually did. The bond between horse and rider was a strong and undefinable thing.