(M) The Age of the Dragon Lords: The Door of Night IC(M)
Rated M for possible mature content including sex, violence, language, graphic situations, alcohol, and drug use.
The Age of the Dragon Lords: The Door of Night
https://i.imgur.com/XdvveKT.jpg
Across the seas
To the land of Endor
The Darkspawn come from below
Like the hand of death they flow
Like a wave they burst through the Door of Night
Vigil's Keep, Arling of Amaranthine, Ferelden.
Dawn broke over the mountains of Amaranthine rushing up the valleys and roads to dart through the barely opened windows of Vigil’s Keep. For most that would be the wake up call that marks the beginning of their day. But for the Wardens of the Keep, it is just another hour closer to making history. The Elves of Endor have been in Ferelden less than a week, but they’ve already flipped the entire history of Thedas on it’s head.
It was by the sheer grace of the Maker that they found the Wardens before one of the venomous monarchs got ahold of them. Many of the battle-hardened Wardens shudder at the thought of the Empress of Orlais or one of her power hungry cronies meeting these foreign Elves first. One such warrior is the Constable of the Grey himself Zadkiel Cousland. Hunched over his desk scribbling out the last few lines of his Last Will and Testament. His father, the Arl, instructed everyone going on this voyage to fill one out before they left, just in case. He didn’t have much in the way of material possessions, but what he did have he would simply leave to his family to sort through if something happened to him when overseas in Endor.
His most prized possessions would be coming with him, his dog, his weapons, and his armor. The rest were silly clothes and commemorative trinkets that have no use outside of looking pretty. His quill scratched quickly across the paper.
"How are you awake so early?" Elissa's voice was muffled against the pillow, reddish locks sprawled across the pillows. "Can you get back to bed? The writing is annoying."
Zad chuckled lightly, placing his quill back in the inkwell before rolling up the parchment and pressing his signet ring upon the warm wax to seal it. “How can you still be asleep on a day like this?” Standing up he stretched his back out and shrugged out of the loose robe he was wearing before returning to the bed gently brushing the mess of hair away from his lover’s face before kissing her. “Besides, I had to get some water after last night.” He winked at her.
"Mmm, if I sleep in, I can pretend this day is like any other," she retorted, moving to snuggle in against him. "Otherwise, we'd never get any time alone."
The Champion smiled sliding under the covers next to Elissa wrapping his arms around her, contentedly returning her snuggles. “I suppose I can’t argue with that logic, but aren’t you a little excited about the upcoming mission? Going beyond the sea to this Endor?”
“I suppose,” Elissa murmured, still trying to enjoy the simple bliss of being near this man - her man. The idea of an adventure somewhere beyond the sea to a far-off land seemed so...far that she didn’t want to think about it just yet. “Do you think it is really the homeland of the Elves?”
He hmmed gently pulling her warm body closer to his before resting his chin atop her head. “I have no idea honestly, from all I remember of the history lessons I received as a child. Elvhenan was over here somewhere. But I suppose how else can we explain these new Elves? What do you think?”
“Do you not think it strange that they come here, claiming a Blight in their lands? How did the Darkspawn get there and what is the Archdemon we will face? Is it even one of our gods or,” she paused, biting her lower lip, “or one of theirs?”
Smiling softly he lifted her chin and kissed her bitten lips softly. “Now that’s something I don’t want to think about. The Thaigs the Darkspawn abandoned go for many miles underground and a lot of them cross paths with volcanic tubes, so maybe the monsters just kept digging and hunting until they found Endor?”
“Maybe,” the woman replied, but she didn’t seem convinced. Kissing him back and sighing in content, she closed her eyes, hoping to catch another half hour of sleep but there was a sharp rapping on the door. Looking up into Zad’s eyes, she huffed, seeming to read his expression before he could fully formulate an answer. “I guess I should start getting ready for today otherwise whoever is trying to barge in will catch us like this again. I’d rather not face your father so soon after last time.”
Zadkiel chuckled, rolling his lover over, pinning her hands down upon the bed gently. “It’s just the Steward coming to see if I’m awake. You don’t have to leave yet, like you said might be our last time alone for a long time.” Settled deeper atop her, his voice a little husky.
“You think the Steward doesn’t report back to the Commander?” Elissa gave in to his advances, smiling up at him and raising an eyebrow however she didn’t pursue the topic, instead reaching up to kiss her man’s lips, biting the lower one teasingly. “I’m glad that you’re coming with me.”
He smiled more, settling atop the woman wrapping his arms around her fondly. “And I you Eli, no one I’d rather have watching my back. As for the Commander finding out? What of it? Think he’ll ground us like children and forbid us from going to fight a Blight?” He kissed her deeply one last time. “But that’s enough talk, let’s enjoy ourselves one last time like normal people before we need to remember we’re Wardens.”
She smiled against his kiss, arms wrapping around his neck and her fingers running through his hair. What he said was true - what could the Commander do if they were leaving for an unknown land in a matter of hours? Ban her from not going? He may as well sign her death warrent then. Pulling herself closer to his bare chest, she let him lead this intimate dance, once again wondering how it was that she ended up with such a man.
~An hour or so later~
The rustling of clothes and soft clanking of armor filled Zad’s room in Vigil’s Keep. He and Elissa were working in quiet diligence preparing their kits for the long trip to Endor. Mumbling to himself Zad was wrestling with one of the straps of his breastplate. “Ugh, I think I pulled something with that last round...hehe… can’t twist very far.”
“Is the Constable of the Grey finally admitting to his age?” Elissa smiled as she put the last of her vials into their special holders across her belt. Blowing away an annoying strand of red hair, she straightened and stretched, playfully catching Zad’s gaze and giving him a wink. “Don’t worry love, that last round was quite something.”
The warrior laughed watching the fiery redhead twist and tease him as he finally caught the strap tightening it and feeling the familiar hug of his red steel armor around him. “You’re only four years behind me my love, you’ll get there soon enough.” He moved to her and lifted out a bit of worn green ribbon from the night stand and helped Eli tie her hair back so it wouldn’t drape in front of her face.
“I feel like an old maid often enough, I don’t need a reminder,” Elissa laughed, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. “Seeing some of the young recruits, I wonder what drew some of them to this life.”
Returning her kiss, he went to grab a large cloak that was hanging on the door of his wardrobe before stuffing it into his rucksack. “I’ve often asked myself the same thing, there hasn’t been a Darkspawn sighting in over four years, and even though we all now know why. The Commander has broken his back to keep that information from crossing as many lips as possible.” With a soft grunt he tightened all the straps of his pack and placed it on his desk alongside his other bag. “In training I’ve heard a few of them say the Warden’s have regained some of their former glory and they want the perks that come with taking up our mantle.” He laughed and shook his head. “You know the short life full of fighting, exclusion, and an inevitable grisly death .” Grabbing a couple of journals, he tucked them into the side pockets of his pack.
“Had I known it would mean meeting someone like you, I would have reconsidered,” Elissa muttered under her breath, folding her clean clothes neatly and putting them inside her pack, hiding her blazing gaze from Zad. It wasn’t that she ever pictured marriage or love in her future - the day she had decided to become a Warden, she had said goodbye to all her infatuations and desires. It was a small sacrifice to benefit the world and rid it of evil. Zad had just...fallen into her life and, try as she might to push away, she did allow herself a few times to wonder if they could have had a future in another life. Shaking her head at her thoughts, she looked up. “At the very least, we now have a chance to die like true Wardens. Facing the Darkspawn head on, not waiting for the slow decay of time and the Taint.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes dying with a blade in my hand and a cause behind me is one of the greatest deaths I can picture. Warden or no.” He moved back to her side and helped her finish packing, more so wishing for closeness with her again than actually thinking she needed help. Romance was never something he took much notice of. Before he even underwent the Joining, he was raised as a Warden, fighting, learning, preparing for a glorious death before he became an old man. But two Wardens can’t have a child without a lot of extra work...and not that kind of work...his mother was a former Bard from Orlais. And she did her best to sneak in lessons of things like romance and intrigue when the young man wasn’t being drilled in swordplay or learning the best place to hit an Ogre to get a quick kill. But even those lessons were few and far between, even more so after she passed many winters ago. This left a strange...longing within him, but like everything else in his life his inevitable future as a Warden pushed thoughts of finding a wife and beginning a family aside because he already knew he’d die before he learned the joys of being a grandparent. So when Eli joined the Order a few years after him he found an answer to that longing in her. As he reached the bottom of her clothes pile he smirked and held up a pair of black lacy undies to her. “So how did this hot little Orlesian item get here love?”
“Those were supposed to be a surprise,” Elissa snatched them back, playfully swatting at her partner. “Something special for your birthday but I guess you couldn’t wait a day or two. Typical Zad.” Their usual playful banter came without much effort, a defense mechanism against the future, knowing that once they were back in the field fighting Darkspawn, there would be no guarantee either of them would return from a scrimmage. When the Commander’s orders came to all who were to depart to Endor, she didn’t give them more than a quick glance, tossing the scroll to the bottom of the bag. From the few things that caught her eyes, she wasn’t exactly optimistic about the outcome of their trip. Four years...It wasn’t long but she feared she had gotten rusty when it came to sensing Darkspawn. It scared her but she hadn’t even brought it up to Zad, constantly persuading herself that Ferelden was finally experiencing peace and the next Blight would be beyond her years. Now...she didn’t want to think about it.
“Those Elves do not seem like any I have met,” she mused, thinking back to her brief encounters with the Endoran delegation. She had been late to arrive, traveling back from the Free Marches only a few days ago and spending most of her time sleeping and resting. Even so, the few interactions she had proved that these beings were not like anyone she had met. They were old and resonated a hidden power that didn’t seem natural to Elves. Their eyes held knowledge of years beyond count and they carried themselves with airs that would make even the highest nobles of Orlais appear like mere commoners. “Do you think the people they spoke of will be as strange as them?”
He smiled as she snatched the undies back and stashed them in the very bottom of her bag. He was already picturing his lover’s fit Tempest body hugged into the sensual little garments, but he moved back letting her finish her bag in peace as he returned to his own packing. Her words resonated with him, he had talked more with the Endoran Elves. And even then they were a mystery. “I know, not even the few Elves we have in Vigil’s Keep know what to make of them. Even if they aren’t related to our Elves, these Enodrans are what I always pictured the Dalish ancestors being when they were still around. Their leader Laurenas says she’s actually considered more of a Commoner than a Noble herself so that speaks volumes to what we can expect once we land.” He tied the last straps and tightened the last buckles of his bags before he carried them to the door thunking the heavy things down. “There’s Men and Dwarves over there from what she told me. But even they seem to be more noble than our own. Imagine that...a whole continent full of noble knights and mighty warriors who don’t bother with idiotic squabbles like “The Game.” Not sure if we should feel honored or be worried they’ll see us as primitive savages.” He laughed walking back to her leaning against the bedpost.
“I grew up in the place that is quite frequently referred to as the Backwater of the Marches. I Think you will do much better than me,” Elissa teased as she moved to put her warm Warden cloak into the bag, a few light tomes and, much to the man’s amusement, a barely started embroidery piece. It was a hobby that she never had much passion for but considering how much time they were to spend on the boat, she decided it was good practice. Besides, the design sketched roughly on the fabric was one her grandmother etched with her own hand and now knowing she would not see Thalia Aurum again, it seemed like the proper tribute to the woman who replaced her mother. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she swept her gaze around it. “They didn’t mention anything about the Qunari?”
He shook his head slowly picked up the woman’s bags and placed them besides his own. “No...at least not how we know them. When the Qunari were described to the Endorans they thought we meant something called...Or...Orcs? Whatever the hell those are, but when they saw Grif they had no clue what he was. I think one of them said that’s "the prettiest Orc I’ve ever seen" actually.” He laughed sitting down besides her. “Imagine how much that made Grif’s day?”
“The first time I saw Grif I wasn’t sure what he was. Have you ever seen anyone devouring a whole three tiered chocolate cake by themselves?” Elissa grinned, remembering the scene. “I wasn’t sure what to make of him. Although if he is the prettiest Orc they have ever seen, I am not certain I have the imagination to picture a regular looking one. Speaking of Grif - you did make him aware about the time we were leaving?”
“Haha I’ve seen Barqspawn give the big oxman a run for his money. While you were away they challenged each other to an eating contest to show the Elves how good our food was. Had to stop them before they ate up everything in our larders.” The Champion then stood up and pulled the woman up after him laying his hand upon her hip. “He’s even more of an early bird than me, he’s probably been busy making our provisions since before dawn. But we’ll be leaving with the morning tide, so let’s head to the armory and make sure we have all our weapons ready.”
“I still do not understand how either of you can be awake at such bloody early hours,” she responded, interlacing her fingers with his and letting him lead the way out of the room.
He laughed holding her close, giving her one final kiss before they left. The Paiges and new recruits would be along to bring their gear to the docks shortly. “Because we’re a couple of sad old men who can’t sleep very long.”
“Speak for yourself.” A vaguely deep voice said as they left the bedroom. “I’m only 11.” The big man was sprawled comfortable in a chair in Zad’s sitting room. “Your old man wanted me to wake you up.”
The rogue’s sudden voice made Zad jump a little before he let out a low laugh. “Yes, a 7 foot tall, 11 year old, that can carry a hundred pound beer keg in one hand. How silly of me to forget, so been waiting out here the whole time huh?”
Grif smirked, “I know, aren't you glad my people haven’t tried conquering the world?” He then shook his head to the Constable’s question. “Nah, maybe 20 minutes or so. Though had you made me wait any long I woulda opened the door and let that monster into your room.” He motioned to the corner near the door where Barqspawne chewed a damp rubber ball.
“Oh my god, who is a good puppy?!” Ignoring the two men in the room, Elissa rushed over to give the Mabari a pat, smiling and cooing over him as she rubbed his ears. Growing up in a family of avid hunters and huge Mabari lovers, she was unable to ignore any dog that came in her path. Barqspawne was one of her favorites. “How have you been, big guy? I have missed you, you know that? Such a smart boy.”
Zadkiel laughed as he was promptly abandoned in favor of his dog. “Well glad you abstained doing that, then we might've never left the room. So are you all packed and ready for this Grif? Not sure you’ll like the food in Endor. I’ve tried some of the Elves’ and it tastes far too strange for my own liking. Sweet and bland at the same time and that’s just their Lamb-base bread.” Crossing his arms the Champion kicked the door of his bedroom shut and leaned against it watching Eli and Barq.
The dog stopped chewing and rolled over, the ball gripped in his teeth. His short tail wagging. Grif chuckled. “No, he’d just had a bunch of water so was about 80% drool at the time. I’m sure that would have gotten you out of the room quickly.”
He smirked and shrugged. “Actually the bread isn't bad. They did seem a little shocked when I asked for more though. Guess it’s supposed to fill one up. And packed I am. Packing is easy for me.” He motioned to his nearby bag, and armored self.
“And is Sir Barqspawne all packed up? Are you ready for an adventure?” Elissa grinned, rubbing the muscular chest of the animal and ignoring the drops of slobber that ended up on her hands. Listening to the men’s conversation, she raised an eyebrow. It was a mystery exactly how much food could fit into the bottomless pit of the Qunari’s stomach. Knowing about the recent food contest, she did wonder how the strange Elves perceived such a spectacle.
The warrior laughed. “You’d think watching you eat half a castle’s supply of food would’ve told them that much already.” Looking out the nearby window he pushed himself off the wall and began walking down the hallway again. “Either way shall we go fetch our weapons now? I think the Commander wants to give us some kind of last minute pep talk or have a Mother from the Chantry bless us with the blood of Andraste or something before we go. Though I don’t know if the Maker has any power in Endor, Laurenas and her Elves seemed lost whenever he was mentioned.”
As his master began walking away the slobbery hound jumped up and licked Elissa’s face in answer to her questions before he gently gripped her sleeve and began pulling her after Zad. Laughing and ruffling the dog’s fur, Elissa followed along, speaking softly to the Mabari as the group made their way to the armory. As they passed a few recruits, the youths bowed slightly as a sign of respect. Elissa reflected back on the conversation she had with Zad earlier that day. Would any of them be coming on the ships to Endor? Did they truly understand what was happening, the full weight of their decision to pledge to the Order or did they, much like herself, want to become another hero in the tapestry of history?
Carrying on in companionable silence the four Wardens reached the Armory and quickly found their weapons each one stained with blood or nicked from fights with both Darkspawn and Bandits in their long runs with the Wardens. Grif’s pair of cutlasses sparked as he picked them up and spun them artfully around his hands before they slid snuggly into their sheaths at his hips. Elissa’s twin daggers were barely seen before she cleverly stashed them in their usual places and her bow slung over her shoulder just as quickly. And lastly Zadkiel lifted his twin swords up with an almost reverent air, the one glistened with it’s Silverite Rune and the other simply glistened from a long life of careful maintenance.
The last thing he picked up was his family’s shield. It personally saved his father’s life once upon a time and hopefully it would save Zadkiel's should that time come. Once everything was secure, they left the Armory passing quiet jokes back and forth as Eli threw Barq’s ball down the hall, watching him faithfully fetch it and return it. They pushed past the large doors of the keep and felt the warm fingers of the sun upon their faces. None of them knew when the next time they would feel the Ferelden sun, so they walked slowly to the docks soaking up as much of it as they could before they’d be trapped below decks crossing the treacherous sea to Endor.
As Zadkiel predicted, the Commander of the Grey Raziel Cousland was already there waiting for them alongside the Endoran Elves on the docks. On the shore behind them no less than a hundred Legionnaires on loan from Orzammar and a clan-sized group of Dalish Elves stood packed and at the ready. And a little ways behind them a collection of Warden Mages called in from Orlais were approaching their own bags and gear on horses behind them. Like any other time a Blight threatens the mortal plane it took a collection of nations to defeat it and who said the Endorans should be the only ones supplying those nations? This group would likely be causing all kinds of rumors and stirrings among the gentlefolk of Theadas, but that is why many of the current Wardens were staying behind with only the most experienced being chosen to come along and fight this Endoran Blight.
Once everyone was assembled Raziel stood upon a small stage looking equal parts embarrassed as honored. He was never one for big speeches, but he knew this was a historic time that required some kind of speech.
“My friends, today you are embarking on debatably the most historic event in the history of the Wardens. Maybe even in the whole of Thedas, Blights have always been our curses to bear and we bared them superbly through our chaotic history. But now our curse has spread to parts of our world we never even knew existed. The People of Endor are experiencing it right now and these noble Elves have journeys far beyond their own lands to find help...and they found us. We are that help and how can we call ourselves honorable or just if we do not do all we can to help them? Now I will not insult any of you by lying or giving you false hope. This mission will be as dangerous a task as any of you have undertaken and some of you may not be coming back. Your remains will be brought back home that I can promise you and your name will live on in the annals of history forever. While all of you may not be Wardens, you have proven your bravery here today and I will end this little pep talk with a prayer of sorts that every recruit hears before they undertake the Joining. “The Grey Wardens hold a lonely vigil, enduring lives of hardship and sacrifice to protect the world from an evil that can never truly be conquered. Few would volunteer for this: the suffering, isolation, and promise of a violent death. But the path of a Warden is also one of valor, and those who give themselves to the cause are rewarded with the knowledge that they have become something more than they were. “ As Commander of the Grey I give all you not already part of our Order the title of Warden-Ensign and welcome you to our Order!”
Cheers erupted among the Legion and Dalish with congratulatory claps from the normal Wardens present. Once it all died down the Commander stepped off his little stage and shook hands with Laurenas and each one of her comrades bidding them safe journey and the best of luck defeating the Blight. He then went off to oversee the last minutes details before the group set sail. The group intermingled enjoying their final few minutes on solid land before everyone’s bags and supplies were loaded aboard.
The Hobbit and the wee orcy lass.
Having ridden hard since they left the Gondoran Camp. Dawn was poking it’s eyes over the distant hills of the East. The grumpy Human and equally grumpy Dwarf were riding a few feet ahead of the others. Jocko had worked out his nerves and was riding quite easily now. Glancing back he smiled at his Orcy friend. “How you doing back there my bonny Orcy lass?”
Lu who had found it bafflingly difficult to say no to this halfling found herself mounted on a horse behind him as the dawn peeked over the hills. The ride had been… uncomfortable but even as the man sobered up his demeanor towards her didn’t seem to change. Mostly she just didn’t know how to hang on so had finally settled with a hand on his shoulder while the other cradled the injured crow which had its head tucked between her body and arm.
As her companion turned and asked how she was doing, She was honestly not sure how to respond. Releasing him she pushed her wolf mask back so it fell to her back shaking out her tangled braids with something of a frown. “As well as one can Imagine, I suppose.” she said quietly glancing up ahead at the others that rode before them before taking the time to read the landscape. “How far are these Gray Docks?” She asked, finely peering down at the Halfling.
Jocko shrugged looking around him. “A few days to the East, have you never been there Orcy Lass?” He smiled back at her.
“I’ve never been far beyond Mordor.” She replied quietly, her quite blue stare taking in the landscape in the early hours. “This is the farthest I’ve been from my homelands and it’s only because of The Wrong. Otherwise I’d be less than welcome then I already am.”
The Halfing scoffed, reaching up patting her hand gently. “Oh pishaw, you’re plenty welcome around me Orcy, especially once we get to the Prancing Pony! Warm mead, big fluffy bed and the freshest mutton around!”
The she-orc was left a little baffled by the halfling’s gesture, his warm hand patting hers. It was not something she was accustomed to, to have one of the other races not be hostile towards her, a part of her wondered if maybe he was still drunk. “Is it possible that you're still drunk?” She asked leaning around to peer at him more closely. “It is not like the other races to be so friendly with my kind.” she said suspiciously.
Jocko laughed, giving her a wink. “No, I’m as sober as a wizard during a troll march! And that I can understand, but you’ve never met a Hobbit before have you my bonny lass?”
She mulled over this for a second before relenting. “No, I have not.” But she failed to see what that had to do with it. Surely the small folk feared and reviled her people as much as the Elves, Dwarves and Men.
Jocko laughed loudly. “Well then lesson one! Not all Hobbits are easily scared, especially if he’s a Took! Just stick with me Orcy, you’ll be the bell of the Pony! Bonny wee thing like you!”
Not scared huh? That still left her with some questions but she simply set back on the horse listening to him to stick with him and she’d be a bell? She shook her head. These people were certainly strange to her, but again so far much more pleasant than her own kind. “Wee thing? I’m taller than you?” She said with some confusion. “You are very strange.” She said finely. And very loud.
He laughed. “That’s lesson number two, don’t get ahead of me my bonny Orc! Just remember someone is only as tall as they carry themselves! I think that’s more Lesson Four, but lesson three will be names, as bonny as you are. I think I should get a proper name.”
He was strange, but she had to admit his company was more welcome than she expected, if it came about in a bizarre turn of events. She looked down at him as he spoke of names. She supposed it was only fair after all she knew Jocko Took’s name all too well now. “They called me Lushak.” Though hardly anyone had spoken her name, at least not close enough for her to hear it, for some time. “Lushak the Quiet.”
Jocko smiled. “Lushak the Quiet, Lu-shak the Q-uiet. Lu-Lu Shaka Shaka!” He laughed loudly bouncing in the saddle some. “Such a fine name for such a fine lassie!”
Once again the half Orc was left baffled. “You are very strange Jocko.” but there was something of amusement lacing her quiet voice. A first to be sure. “Orc women are not thought to be fine like your Elves and Humans, not even to Orc males themselves. You have questionable taste.”
Jocko hmmed lightly looking back at Lulu studying her face and body. “That must be why I thought Orcs just climbed out of mud all these years. They don’t know a pretty lass when they see it. Worry not Lulu, my tastes are quite refined.” He chuckled, giving her another wink.
The she-Orc raised a slight eyebrow. She wasn’t sure how to take his words, she didn’t understand the strange mannerisms of these people. Their behaviours were so strange to her, especially this one who was being unusually nice. She wasn’t sure how long alcohol truly lasted but considering how small he was and how much he must have had it was something she had to consider. “I’ll take your word for it.” she said finely.
Jocko chuckled, patting her hand again. “That’s lesson number five!” He cackled loudly knocking his heels into the Draft Horse’s side, catching up with the others.
Lark, Breggo, and Siks tri-op
Ruins of Garth Uireb Maethor Jagmar, Nienor, Jocko, and Damina
The cool breath of evening rolled through the ruins of the old fort a stone’s throw from the docks of the Grey Havens. A group of six individuals sat around a fire occasionally glancing through the broken walls of the fort. Jagmar One-Eye was seated with his back firmly against a broken pillar smoke listing up lazily from the bowl of his pipe. “It’s been two days, how long do we plan to sit here and wait?”
Besides him crouched an elegant Elven woman with silver hair, she was slowly sharpening a pair of black bladed knives. “Until the sun sets today Master Dwarf.” She said quietly.
Across from the Elf, a stout young woman was carving a stake of some kind and glanced over at the Bounty Hunter. “Tis the second time ye’ve asked that in a matter o’ a ‘alf ‘our Dwarf. Yer gettin’ as bad as the wee Princess over t’ere.” Her Northman accent, a harsh contrast to her light melodic voice.
Nienor raised an eyebrow, continuing to sharpen her blades in easy motions. Leaning against the old, faded with time, stone walls, she imagined the old harbor at its time of glory, surrounded by Elves and music. Even now, every night, she was lulled to sleep by the soft murmur of the nearby stream running through Grey Havens and the whispering of leaves. “I always thought wasting time was a crime punishable by flogging. I should finally bring it up to the High King and see if he approves it for the White Guards.” she muttered to herself before looking at the Northerner with her usual gruffness. She hasn’t had much interactions with her kinsmen from The kingdom of Rhovanion, but she always considered them more akin to the Dwarves than her own people. Same level of bluntness and disregard for the high courts of Gondor and Rohan. She wouldn’t call them dishonorable, but the Northmen sure weren’t knights or warriors for the greater good.
Silence carried on for a few more minutes before the jolly singing of Jocko made itself known. Thumping merrily down the make-shift ladder that connected the first level from the second the Hobbit was always in the highest of spirits. “Well there’s my two hour look-out shift done who's next?” He asked dropping his swords down upon his sleeping mat before pulling out a skin of ale from his pack to enjoy.
“I believe it is mine,” Nienor stopped the whetstone halfway down the blade and moved to push it into its place. Straightening and sheathing her sword, she stretched like a cat, her hair braided up away from her face. “Unless the Master Dwarf wishes to keep me company.”
Jagmar gave a low chuckle and slowly stood up, using his halberd to aid him. “I think I shall lassie, ale makes the Hobbit gassy and I needn’t smell it so soon before dinner.” Lumbering to his feet he let out a shrill whistle and called Sorbel to his shoulder before following the warrior woman up the ladder. His legs were falling asleep as well so the movement would do him some good.
“Why a crow?” The young warrior raised an eyebrow as they began moving the second floor of the fort.
The Dwarf chuckled, pulling a bit of bread from his pocket, feeding it to the bird. “Crows and Ravens are wickedly smart animals. Smarter even than horses in some cases.” Resting his polearm against the wall Jagmar whistled again directing Sorbel to hop upon the cross guard of the weapon like a perch. “But I saved his life as a chick and once he was well he saved mine.” Moving to a large hole in the wall Jagmar restocked and relighted his pipe puffing away at it thoughtfully. “Ya hear anything from your friend Beren?” He asked bluntly, watching the young woman.
“No,” Nienor looked out into the distance as the pair climbed up the ruins to the vantage point giving a better view of the sea. “There has been no news from...from Minas Tirith. I worry about what is happening there. We can’t keep waiting for long.”
Letting out a long puff of smoke the Bounty Hunter nodded. “Aye, despite the words of the young brute downstairs, it is a worrying waste of time. Sitting here for three days just watching the endless horizon. I’m not an educated Dwarf, but is there even land beyond those waves? Last I knew it was just water in all directions.”
“The Elves speak of Valinor and Eldemar across the Great Sea,” Nienor smiled, stopping to examine the old frescoes atop the walls. While the group was welcomed by the Elves living in the East wings, the remaining shipbuilders of Valor, they decided to live in the half-destroyed ruins as the Elves were uncomfortable around so many outsiders within their halls. It had made Nienor sad as she had longed to look upon the ancient halls of the Elven citadel, but with a few broken Sindarin phrases, she was allowed an evening to roam among the fairest of Endor, drinking their wine and listening to their stories. “I am not sure that is where help will come from though. Those who return to Valinor remain there forever.”
Jagmar hmmed low in his throat. “Sounds about as possible as there being nothing but water in every direction. So if the Elves and their godly powers can’t help us, and the Wizards have all left with them. Where would help come from? Are the Gods of Man any help at times like this? My people will only bury themselves deeper and deeper in the earth until there is no way out.” The old Dwarf had long decided his life and fate were hardly worthy of some kind of divine being taking an interest in. He woke up every day expecting it to be his last and his only reward would be, being dead when the worms begin to eat him.
“From what I remember, hiding deeper and deeper never helped your people,” Nienor commented, using her hand as a visor against the sun and looked out into the endless blue. “Evur help us, I can only wish that help comes from anywhere at this point.”
Jagmar chuckled again, blowing a smoke ring off into the sky. “Aye it never has, but you try to convince one of our Kings of that. If you think I’m stubborn those gray bearded fools wouldn’t believe in rain if it fell on their heads. Just always hunting for their own Arkenstones so they can say their rule is divinely blessed like what happened in Erebor. Does your King have a plan if help never comes?” He asked quite out of the blue, but his type of tobacco has a way of bringing the darkest thoughts forward sometimes.
“The king….my uncle,” she paused, sighing as she finished her sentence. “There is no plan. If there is no hope, there will be no future. Last time, only the Elves migrated West. They brought no one with them. Now, we will witness the last of the fair folk depart Middle Earth for good.”
The Dwarf frowned but nodded. “Maybe they’ll take some more of us with them this time.” He mulled quietly, his eyes catching a faint shadow on the horizon. “Twist my beard is that...a ship? We have a ship on the horizon!” He shouted down to the others.
“Marauder Orc Tribe attack from the Northeast!” The frantic shout of Tinnu the Elf answered forcing him to duck behind some rubble as arrows began smacking against the stone. “BY DURIN’S NAME!” He shouted at the sudden volley.
“Surely your eye betrays you!” Nienor shouted, copying the Dwarf’s movements and using the stone as a shield for her back, pulling out her sword and readying it. With one hand she reached for the horn attached to her belt, ready to call for help from the Grey Haven Elves. “You really think that a ship would just appear on the horizon?!”
Jagmar snorted, pulling his halberd in close as another crash of arrows struck the wall. “Go see for yourself lass! I may have one eye, but it knows a ship when it sees one!” He rolled across the floor and tumbled down the ladder landing with a heavy thud on the level below as he rushed to grab his throwing axes and a crossbow given to him by a Dwarf from the Glittering Caves he did a job for. He hadn’t had much time to practice with it, but being under attack was as good a time as any for practice.
“For who but a Dwarf could grow up near the shores of the seas?” Nienor rolled her eyes as Jagmar rolled away. Sensing a pause in the arrows, she snuck a peek at the dim orange sky and darker waters, her eyes growing larger as two white sails steadily came closer. A stray arrow nearly catching her ear and grazing it forced her back to reality. Quietly swearing like a Rohirim, she followed more steadily after the Dwarf, slicing a few black missiles in the air as she moved down the stairs.
Back on the first floor Jocko and Damnia had joined Jagmar in losing arrows and slingstones at the rapidly approaching Orc Horde. None of the three were experts at ranged combat, but the closer the Orcs got they better they got.
Jocko quickly looked up as Nienor came into view. “Might want to give that horn a toot Princess! I don’t think those ships will get here in time before we’re all killed!”
Holding her sword in her right, Nienor grabbed the horn, bringing it to her lips. The low call of Gondor filled the Western shores with its deep sound, making its way through the yells of the Orcs and the exchange of weapons. Three calls then a pause. Again, three calls and then the Orcs were coming to them. Dropping the horn to hang from her belt, she grabbed her weapon and easily caught a strike heading for her head. The beast snarled, exposing foul teeth and a black tongue. Pushing the creature back, she struck it in the stomach, tossing back a strand of hair before shaking the body off.
Outside the fort, Lu and Tinnu
Lu had settled herself against the wall of the old fort on the outside. With Jocko busy with his watch she’d felt more comfortable to leave the company of the others and settle herself outside to gaze at the landscape and tend to the injured bird. It could now hop about on its own, but its wing still seemed too tender to use whenever she tried to mess with it, it pecked at her hands so the opted to leave it alone for now as she picked apart bits of her meal and offered it tidbits to keep it occupied.
As silent as a leaf upon the wind Lu soon found herself looking at the deep green eyes of the Elf Woman Tinnu. “He is growing strong young Orcess, you have been giving him the poultice I provided I see.” Her voice soft and almost nurturing sounding and her touch just as soft as she stroked the animal's feathers gently.
Lu only gave a short start before she realized who it was. She shifted against the wall as she nodded. “Yes, he has improved.” She agreed, offering the bird another tidbit of food. “Thanks to you.” She spoke quietly to the elf, wondering if she felt more uncomfortable in her company or the Halflings.
Tinnu chuckled musically her long silver locks swaying in the sea breeze as she sat besides the young huntress. “I just gave you the medicine, you are the one who has been caring for him. You two seem quite attached. Have you named him yet?” She asked, giving the bird a little drink from her canteen.
“Attached…” She murmured thoughtfully as the bird cocked its head up at her, its beak wet from its drink. She looked up at the Elf again as she asked if she had named it. “No.” She said after a pause. “Why would I?”
Tinnu’s smile brightened as she recapped her canteen. “Well if you plan to keep him around might be a good way to keep track of him. Especially with our Dwarven friend upstairs having a crow himself.” She tickled the bird’s neck gently before watching it hop up into Lu’s lap. “Plus naming him might make him happy. These birds are very intuitive and can sense things like emotions and react to them.”
Lu listened quietly, What would she even name it? She thought looking down at it perched on her lap. She reached out and gently pet the bird’s head as they stared at each other for a moment. “What would I name you?” she asked the bird. It cocked its head once before spreading its one uninjured wing and let out a caw. “...Caw…” She nodded with the bird and rubbed it under its chin.
Tinnu giggled approvingly. “Caw...a good strong name for a good strong bird. Once he’s well he’ll be a fine hunting companion for you my dear.” Turning to the sea Tinnu closed her eyes letting the crisp salt air wash over her. She had journeyed to this fort with Damina a day or so before Lu and her companions arrived. She loved the sea and often dreamt of the day when she would join the rest of her people on the waves as they waved good-bye to Endor and all it’s splendor. It was a day she knew would both uplift her spirits and dash them upon the rocks.
She was very young by Elf standards, being born well after the War of the Ring to the last conclave of Elves left. Her Elders told her all about their history, but much of the magic and greater tales left with Elrond and his High Elves two hundred years ago. This world and this life was all she knew and it tore her apart to think about leaving it one day. But with the arrival of these creatures she was glad some had remained to fight them off. “If you don’t mind my asking Lushak, what do you make of all this? These Wrong and their Winged master?”
“Hum.” The she-orc was quiet for a moment in thought. “It is certainly strange, They are fouler then any Orc, and far less forgiving than even the lands of Mordor.” She said looking out over the water. “Terrifying perhaps is the best way to describe it.” She said.
Tinnu’s brows furrowed as she nodded slowly. “Yes...terrifying is a good word for them. I’ve spent most of my life hunting down the last stragglers of the Dark One’s army, trying to wipe his stain completely from our home.” She looked down at her legs with a troubled expression. “But they were nothing compared to these...these...things. Mindless and savage, but also unnaturally organized acting like a single entity in every skirmish. I would slay one and two more would take its place.” She let out a low sigh and kicked her legs out towards the slowly setting sun. “I’ve never been a pessimist, but it is quite difficult to muster up hope in the face of that.”
“Yes, The human warrior said something similar.” Lu replied quietly, not seeming to have any kind of reaction to her remark on the Dark One's stains. “And yet, despite that we still fight.” She murmured looking to her hands. “It leads me to believe that Desperation and Hope are similar.”
Tinnu hmmed at the young Orc’s words. “Two sides of the same coin as they say, you are quite wise for one so young Lushak. I do hope more people come to see things from your perspective. My Elders often said the new generation would become wiser than their parents having to grow up in a war like this. Seems they were right.” She smiled, patting Lu upon her shoulder.
The She-Orc was not sure about that, but she was even less sure what to say in return. She looked to the Elf for a moment. “You and Jocko both baffle me.” She said finely. “So easily accepting, even if I’m only a half of the enemy you had before.” She said looking down as Caw pecked at her hand, wishing for more to eat, She pulled apart some more of the meat and offered the bird a small portion. “I thought Jocko was odd, or just perpetually drunk but you are neither it seems.”
Tinnu couldn’t help but let out a small snort upon being compared to the mad Took. “Well, I myself am not sure if our Hobbit companion is half drunk or just fully mad most of the time. But I’ve always found Haflings have an innate knack for reading someone perfectly after only spending a few minutes with them. Drunk or mad it doesn’t matter, once they decide upon their opinion of someone it rarely changes. As for me…?” She half asked, looking at the horizon. “I may not be as magical as the High Elves or have their otherworldly sense of the world, but I’ve experienced enough to know friends and allies can come from the most unexpected of places. And if Endor is to survive the Wrong we need to let go of old rivalries and bad blood and stand united against them.”
Lushack listened quietly to the Elf speak, following her gaze as she mulled over her words. “I don’t imagine it will be easy for most.” She said finely. “I doubt my kin will be as willing, but for now we do have a common enemy. Perhaps something will be born of that with time.” She said. “I suppose… one can only hope?”
Tinnu smiled sadly bringing her knees up to her chest before resting her chin upon them. “Indeed it won’t be easy, but that will be our only option if my Kin do not return with aid. But until then hoping is the best.” She opened her mouth to say something else when her whole body tensed she dove over Lu and the bird as a black barbed arrow embedded itself in the wall where Lu’s head once was. And just as she heard the Dwarf shout about a ship being spotted she shouted back. “Marauder Orc Tribe attack from the Northeast!” She helped Lu up before pulling them both behind the protection of the ruined stone walls of the fort.
Lu followed the Elf to shelter, clutching Caw in both hands as she ducked into safety. She growled lowly over Caw’s protests. She set the bird down safely behind the wall and peered back out. Her bow and quiver had been set right at her side, but Tinnu’s movements had jostled them over and she’d left the She-Orc little time to snatch them up along with the bird. There they lay next to the wall. She hissed softly glancing back at the Elf briefly as arrows cracked against the stone.
Lu reached back and pulled her mask over her face just before she ducked out after the second volley hit the wall. Lu was nimble enough as she slid to a stop and snatched up her bow and quiver and ducked as a second arrow attempted to pierce her head, it caught the ear of her wolf hood and tore it as she dived back behind the wall. She grumbled angrily as she got back to her feet checking the bow string before pulling free an arrow.
Tinnu quickly stepped out, covering Lu as she retrieved her weapons, an Orc dropping with each pull of her bow string. “Lushak! Get back to the main room with the others! I’ll cover you!” She said as a black arrow whizzed by her head.
Lu attached her quiver and picked up Caw. The horde growing ever closer even as they were picked off bit by bit. She didn’t say a word as she quickly ducked off, keeping low as arrows flew. One passing inches in front of her nose before she reached the safety of the door to the main room where the others were already engaging. She bent down, dropping Caw on top of a bag before stringing the arrow she had clutched with her bow and quickly finding a position she could cover Tinnu from.
As soon as Lu was safe and could cover her Tinnu moved as quickly as she could, feeling the sick buzz of arrows all around her like angry hornets. She too reached the safety of the main floor then moved a little up the wall using a fallen pillar as a platform to continue her defense. “Where did these Orcs come from?! The Marauder Tribe would never be able to get this close to the Grey Havens without the Elves knowing!”
“I don’t think any of them will tell you.” Lu called back. “Even if you asked kindly.” She watched as one of her arrows felled an approaching marauder and quickly notched a new arrow and released it, catching one in the leg making it drop to the ground. They were getting too close, close quarters combat was not her style. Lu hissed in frustration before she turned and moved for the stairs quickly scaling for the second floor to perch herself and focused her attention on the rival archers.
The hills around the Grey Havens
The Defenders could see the black eyes of the attacking Orcs as a loud trumpeting sound similar to that of an Elk call finally answered the boom of the Gondor Horn. A literal storm of golden arrows rained down upon the attacking Tribe, felling nearly a quarter of them, but this wasn’t your typical raiding party...no...this was a fullly armed war party with almost the entire Marauder Tribe present and hungering for the precious treasures that were rumored to be sailing into the Havens at this very moment. Anything that could pull warriors from the frontlines of a war must be more precious than any shiny bauble currently in their coffers. And Overlord Thrak was always looking for the next shiny bauble to add to his massive collection.
He commanded his tribe from the back seated upon a large blond Warg covered from head to toe in gold. Heavyset and very gray of skin the greedy Overlord could see the ships approaching his mouth already watering at the prospect of treasure. Holding his jeweled sword aloft he shouted his warriors forward even after the valley of arrows from the Elves hiding among the trees dropped many of them.