The line of the Dunedain.
Chapter one
Gray fog rolled over an already gray dawn. Aragorn, son of Arathorn, or Estel as the elves called him, heir of Isiuldur, chieftain of the Dunedain, stood upon the cliffs of Arnor. He stood amongst the ruins of what was once the great tower of Armon'syl , built by the kings of Arnor of old. All that was left now was a group of scattered rocks and chunks of buildings.
Aragorn had shoulder length black hair and gray eyes. His face was fine. He was just twenty and two years of age. .Aragorn was garbed as a ranger of the Dunedain. He was clad in a gray cloak and hood. He wore a leather tunic over a shirt of mail, under which he wore a plain black shirt. He wore plain breeches and bracers and greaves. Strapped to his back were a sturdy bow and a quiver of arrows. A hand-and-a-half sword was belted to his waist opposite a foot long dagger. In his hand he clutched a six foot spear.
Below him, on a hill, was an orc. The stout, bowlegged creature was running. He stopped to catch his breath, leaning on a spear made of a fire hardened stake. He wore a rusty helm with a face guard and a spike on the top. He wore a surcoat of mail slightly to long for him, its former shining glory diminished by a coat of rust. Mismatched shoulder plates rested on his shoulders and a rusty knife was belted to his waist. On one arm, he bore a black buckler crudely painted with a bloodstained sword.
"An orc," Aragorn said. "Down on the hill."
"Where?" Aragorn's cousin, Halbarad, appeared from behind a boulder. He had black hair and gray eyes, like Aragorn. He was four-teen years older than Aragorn, but they were good friends nonetheless. He too wore a gray cloak, leather tunic, mail, undershirt, breeches, bracers, and greaves. A leather and iron cap rested upon his head. A bow, quiver, and dagger were belted to his waist opposite a shortsword. He too carried a spear.
"There," Aragorn pointed.
"Now I see him," Halbarad said, stringing his bow. "I could shoot him from here."
"Nay," Elrohir, son of Elrond, emerged from the ruins. He was tall, with deep brown hair that hung down his back. He wore a deep blue cloak and a leather surcoat sewn with gold enameled plates over a pale purple tunic. His cloak was clasped with a golden star broach and he wore a silver circlet upon his brow. Strapped to his back was a bow and quiver. The bow was recurved in the center and the arrows fletched with swan feathers. Belted to his waist was a sword of typical elvish make, with an elegantly curving blade and a two handed leather grip. He also wore a dagger and in his hand he held a long lance with a long curved blade. "For we have been tracking orcs, have we not?"
"Aye," said Aragorn. Orcs had been gathering into large war bands under the command of Buhrdur, troll chieftain. He had somehow managed to gain intelligence and cunning, more than could be said for others of his race. He had been growing in power and collecting an army of all manner of foul creatures. Trolls, orcs, wargs, all were answering to Buhrdur's call. "And since orcs like to travel in groups-"
"This one could lead us to the others," Halbarad realized, putting away his bow.
"Aye," Said Elladan, emerging from behind his twin brother. They looked exactly the same, down to their armor and weapons. "He could be a scout or a vanguard."
"So if we follow him," Aragorn said. "Then he may lead us to the main group."
"We'll have to start soon," Halbarad commented, saddling his bay stallion. "He's getting away."
They saddled their horses and set out after the orc. They made sure to keep to the trees and bushes, should the orc happen to glance back and see them. The four kept relatively quiet, though they were far out of the range of the orc's poor earshot.
The sun rose, but was quickly covered by gray clouds. The orc kept running until noon, when he stopped to catch his breath. The trackers stopped too and ate sparingly from their saddle bags, for they had no time to hunt.
They were silent for a few hours, then Halbarad broke the silence.
"What is Rivendell like?"
"Why do you ask?" Elrohir questioned.
"Just curious."
"The halls and archways are decorated with golden and silver vines. The elegant spires have big glass windows, from which many elves study the stars. Many statues of great heroes are built in the city," Elrohir said.
"And the gardens are full of plants and trees of all sorts. Flowers of every color bloom year round, as do the fruit trees. Surrounding the city is a forest of birch and oak. When the sun is at its brightest, it shines down through the leaves, showering the ground below in a beautiful golden light," Elladan added.
"Aye," said Aragorn. "Once I was walking in those woods, singing of fair Luthein Tunuviel. When, all of a sudden, a maiden of the likeness of Luthein appeared before me. Little did I know, but she was Lady Arawen Evenstar. There is nay a more beautiful woman under the stars."
Elrohir and Elladan exchanged knowing looks. Aragorn looked dazed, as though a diamond had just fallen into his palm.
"What about lothlorien?" Halbarad asked.
"Great towering trees," Elrohir said. Amongst their branches are built a silver city."
"And the walls sparkle with many crystals embedded in the silver," Elladan said.
"And there dwells the lady Galadriel, Arawen's grandmother. Often, Lady Arawen walks among the trees of her mother's land. She is fair enough to claim any man's heart."
"Is she really that beautiful?" Halbarad asked.
"More than any other women I have ever seen," Aragorn said. "When I first met her, I believed her to be luthein of the tales of old. Her face is fair and her lips are full and red. Her long black lashes hang over her shining eyes. Her midnight locks are held in a net of diamonds, shining like stars. When I first saw her, she was wearing an emerald green dress that trailed behind her. A belt f moonstones was clasped around her beautiful waist. And-"
Elrohir cleared his throat loudly, sharply ending the conversation.
"I fear that while Aragorn waxes philosophical about my sister, the orc we are tracking is getting away," Elladan pointed. The orc was a mere black speck clambering up a hill.
Aragorn blushed and spurred his horse, who had slowed.
As evening fell, they saw the orc clamber down into a rocky ravine. They followed him, being careful not to hurt their horses on the rocky slope. They followed the orc down the ravine until it widened out and a stream ran across it. The orc clambered across the stream using a dead tree that had fallen across the water. The Dunedain merely rode their horses through. Then the ravine ended in a dense copse of trees and they saw an orc camp in the distance.
There were thirty of them, including the scout. The sat around a large bonfire, eating and arguing. They carried a motley collection of weaponry; including spears, shields, bows, slings, axes, pikes, maces, flails, and blades of all sorts as well as stakes, scythes, and a host of improvised weaponry. Their armor, if they had any, was rusty and mismatched and often too small or too large. Planted next to the fire was a pike with a black banner depicting the emblem of a blazing skull crossed with bloody swords.
"Definitely headed to join Buhrdur," Halbarad said, pointing to the banner. He strung his bow, testing its strength.
"Aye," said Aragorn, stringing his own bow. "What do we do? Attack or return to Alberoan to get reinforcements?'
"You're the chieftain," Elladan said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You should decide."
"Yes…but you're older than me," Aragorn protested.
"But you are Dunedain," Elrohir said. "Therefore you shall live just as long as I."
"If we leave," Aragorn said. "They'll definitely be gone by the time we get back."
"Then it makes good sense to attack now," Elrohir said. "As long as we keep to the shadows and snipe at them, we can weaken them enough that they will scatter and we can destroy them one by one."
"Agreed," Elladan said. Both elves strung their bows.
Elladan took aim and shot the orc scout through his throat. Panic erupted through the orc camp. They yelled and grabbed their weapons.
Aragorn rode around a boulder and shot another orc in it's heart. One orc strung his bow, dodging an arrow fired by Halbarad. It fired in Aragorn's direction, the shaft bouncing off the boulder. A second arrow buried itself in the dirt near the hoof of Aragorn's horse. Halbarad shot two more orcs in quick succession and yet another fell to Elrohir's arrows.
Minus five of their comrades, the orcs charged at where their attackers were shooting from. The Dunedain rode around through the trees to the place the orcs had previously been and fired, three arrows slaying their targets and a fourth bouncing off of a shield. Then the Dunedain split forces and Aragorn and Halbarad rode around in front of the orcs and took shelter behind a broken stone wall while the elves took up positions at the orcs' backs.
The orcs gathered together in a circle, eyes darting around, looking for their assailants.
Silence.
The orcs fidgeted nervously.
Aragorn and Halbarad fired their arrows, one of the shafts piercing an archer's leather surcoat, the second wounding an orc in the leg. Two orc archers notched arrows to their strings, but were felled by Elladan and Elrohir before they could shoot.
Aragorn saw a particularly burly orc in a metal breastplate wielding a heavy wooden club grab an archer by the arm and shout at him.
He must be the leader, Aragorn though as the archer nodded franticly and drew an arrow from his quiver.
Halbarad leapt and fired, his arrow piercing the leader's neck. The orc's steel collar blocked most of the shot, but the arrow still pierced the skin, sending a fountain of blood spouting from his throat. He roared and grabbed the archer's bow, firing an arrow which bounced off a tree branch by Aragorn's ear.
Aragorn Fired a shaft the struck the orc just below the knee. He roared then yelled as an arrow from Elrohir dented his shoulder plate. Elladan's shaft struck his club. Halbarad fired, missing by a few inches. He cursed and fired again, this time piercing the orc leader's wrist. Aragorn's second arrow struck the orc's foot, pinning it to the ground. The Halbarad shot him through the eye. He fell to the ground in a pool of blood.
The orc's scattered and fled, yelling and shrieking, two of Elrohir and Elladan's arrows wounding them as they fled.
The Dunedain rode out into the open, watching as the orcs melded in with the trees and rocks. Twelve orcs, including the leader, lay dead.
"We'll have to track the rest down tomorrow," Elladan said. "There's at least eight-teen still out there."
"Why bother," Halbarad said. "What's a mere eight-teen cowardly orcs to us?"
"Eight-teen cowardly orcs who will plunder, loot, pillage, and murder," Elrohir said. "An enemy force, no matter how small, is always a threat. Never turn your back on even the most paltry force."
"If we ride through the night, we can catch them by dawn," Aragorn said. "Although it would mean we would miss out on sleep."
"Aye,' said Elladan. "Better to catch them tomorrow, when we are well rested and replenished in strength. Then it shall be far easier to track them."