This story is written three weeks before the battle of Helms Deep.
Chapter 1: A Ranger of the Dunedain
Far into the kingdom of Rohan stood a cliff, at the base of this cliff was a camp. A group of twenty Uruk Hai squabbled in that camp fighting over rations, loot, and a bound captive. Little did they know that no more that fifeteen feet above them stood a hooded figure restlessly watching them.
"I had last watch, it's your turn." one tall, sinewy Uruk yelled to another.
"Quit you're whining," bellowed the second Uruk, "it's not your place to order me around grunt; I have orders from Saruman himself."
"A likely story," the first continued, "I never got no orders from the White Wizard."
The confrontation stopped there. A rusty sword swung and the head of the first Uruk leapt from its body.
"That's because you not the Captain, I am" grunted the other, generally pleased-looking Uruk Hai.
High atop the cliff the hooded figure had seen enough. He had time, this he knew. Once the brutish Uruk Hai slept he would bring down his fury on them, and end this tiresome search he had begun.
Crickets chirped in the yellowy died grass of Rohan, and the fire started to die out. At exactly this time was when the first arrow shot from the hooded figures bow. His aim was true, the sharpened piece of beach found its mark in between the visor of the only lookout. Arrow after arrow rained down unto to sleeping Uruk.
Garish the Uruk captain that had beheaded a fellow orc earlier that night woke to see half the camp full of arrows and countless dead. The urgent cry that left his mouth was the last ever to leave his lips, another arrow shot swiftly into the flesh of his unguarded face.
The remaining Uruk Hai wakened by there captain's yell spotted the figure and began loading their crossbows with bolts. One of the less lucky orcs woke only to get landed upon by the figure, which had leapt from the cliff.
"Charge you scurvy scum," yelled the Biggest Uruk.
The battle erupted; two Uruk picked up pikes and ran to stab their adversary. The first felt the sword blade growing out of his back as he fell to the ground. The hooded man kicked at the body yanked out his blood spattered sword and swung it with deft instinct at the other, who collapsed on top the first Uruk's body, headless. Next the remaining orc's charged there foe only to be felled one after the other. The last Uruk Hai managed to see a hardened face, full of wisdom covered in stubble, before the mans hand released a dagger at a deadly speed which pierced his foes armor right in the heart.
He cut the bounds off the captive, who rose wearily, trembling slightly. The prisoner, a woman was clearly that of Rohan.
"You are a shield maiden of Rohan," said the figure. His cloaked face didn't show much surprise.
"Yes, I am Alem, of Brendil," she stated politely, "but who are you, or do you remained cloaked?"
As if just realizing he still had the hood covering his face, he removed it. He was a good looking, of about 25. His hair was long and dark, curled slightly, and down to his neck. Alem instantly recognized him as a man of Gondor. He has blue-grey eyes and his chin was covered in stubble.
"I am Barradir, son of Burdor," he paused "I am of the Dunedain, rangers of the North."
Authors Note: Well it's my first story I hope to get some feedback, I also hope it was good.