This takes place on Weathertop.
As the ringwraiths drew nearer, Sam suddenly lurched forward. In doing this, he knocked into Pippin. Pippin fell to the cold hard ground at the feet of one of the ringwraiths. In panic, Pippin drew his sword and raised it to the wraith. The wraith, in defense, grabbed Pippin by the neck and tossed him aside. Pippin hit his head hard on one of the stone pillars, knocking him unconscious. Merry ran over to his friends side. He noticed a trickle of blood seeping from a cut on Pippin's forehead. In seeing this, Merry grew very angry. He turned around to catch a glimpse of one of the ringwraiths arms slam into his face. It knocked Merry, unconscious, to the ground. Seeing his friends being brutally attacked, Sam took it upon himself to make sure Frodo wasn't harmed, being as he was the ring bearer. The wraiths saw Sam as no challenge. One wraith picked him up and threw him against a pillar. Sam hit his head rather hard, but maintained consciousness. He was unable to move even though he was not injured. It was like he was frozen in fear, fear for his comrades lives. He sat helpless as the ringwraiths went after Frodo. Frodo, in defense, slipped on the ring thinking the wraiths would not be able to see him. He was mistaken, for not only could the wraiths see him, but they could also harm him. One of the wraiths took a knife and stabbed Frodo in the shoulder. Frodo let out a painful yell. He removed the ring only to see wraiths all around. Then Frodo noticed a fire moving around. It took him a minute to realize that it was actually Aragorn with a torch fighting off the ringwraiths. Frodo let out another yell, which Sam heard. He rushed to Frodo's side to see if he could do anything to help out his dear friend. Aragorn had driven most of the ringwraiths off. One of the wraiths decided he didn't want to leave without doing some real damage, so he grabbed Pippin in one last frantic move. At this time Merry was beginning to arise from his unconscious state. The first thing Merry heard was Aragorn yelling "Pippin" at the top of his lungs. Merry then stumbled to his feet to try and figure out what had happened. Aragorn, getting nothing out of yelling for Pippin, turned to see which of the hobbits had yelled in pain. He noticed Frodo lying on the ground with Sam leaning over him nearly in tears. Merry frantically ran up to Aragorn screaming, "Where is Pippin? Where is he?" Aragorn replied in a soft tone, "They took him, those wraiths took him." Merry, devastated at the news of his best friend being taken from him, started to run off in the direction the wraiths left in. Aragorn knew that if he the wraiths caught Merry they would kill him. He also knew that there was a strong chance that the wraiths had already killed Pippin, and he didn't want Merry to see his friend dead, so he ran after Merry and grabbed him by the waist. Merry was screaming, "Let me go! Let me get Pippin. He needs me!" Aragorn replied, "There is nothing we can do for him. Come, Frodo needs our help. The wraith that snatched the young hobbit, was in such a hurry to catch up with the other wraiths, that he tossed Pippin aside. Pippin landed limp on the ground, blood now streaming from his wound. He also had other cuts and bruises covering his arms, legs and face. He was still unconscious and barely breathing. The night was cold and he had nothing to keep him warm. He lied on the cold ground for nearly three hours before he started to come to. He was only able to stay conscious for a couple of minutes at a time. He was cold and suffering from a mild case of hypothermia. He had lost a substantial amount of blood from his wounds. He was finally able to stay conscious for a little while. He wasn't able to move much more than his arms. He rolled to his side only to realize he had a gaping wound on his side. His clothes were soaked in blood and his wound was still bleeding profusely. He managed to tear off a large part of his left sleeve and press it against his bleeding side. He rolled back onto his back and tried to keep pressure on his side, but he knew he had to find another way to stop the bleeding. As he pondered his options, his vision grew hazy. He began to drift off into an unconscious state. He was only able to let out a soft cry for help before he lost consciousness.
As the ringwraiths drew nearer, Sam suddenly lurched forward. In doing this, he knocked into Pippin. Pippin fell to the cold hard ground at the feet of one of the ringwraiths. In panic, Pippin drew his sword and raised it to the wraith. The wraith, in defense, grabbed Pippin by the neck and tossed him aside. Pippin hit his head hard on one of the stone pillars, knocking him unconscious. Merry ran over to his friends side. He noticed a trickle of blood seeping from a cut on Pippin's forehead. In seeing this, Merry grew very angry. He turned around to catch a glimpse of one of the ringwraiths arms slam into his face. It knocked Merry, unconscious, to the ground. Seeing his friends being brutally attacked, Sam took it upon himself to make sure Frodo wasn't harmed, being as he was the ring bearer. The wraiths saw Sam as no challenge. One wraith picked him up and threw him against a pillar. Sam hit his head rather hard, but maintained consciousness. He was unable to move even though he was not injured. It was like he was frozen in fear, fear for his comrades lives. He sat helpless as the ringwraiths went after Frodo. Frodo, in defense, slipped on the ring thinking the wraiths would not be able to see him. He was mistaken, for not only could the wraiths see him, but they could also harm him. One of the wraiths took a knife and stabbed Frodo in the shoulder. Frodo let out a painful yell. He removed the ring only to see wraiths all around. Then Frodo noticed a fire moving around. It took him a minute to realize that it was actually Aragorn with a torch fighting off the ringwraiths. Frodo let out another yell, which Sam heard. He rushed to Frodo's side to see if he could do anything to help out his dear friend. Aragorn had driven most of the ringwraiths off. One of the wraiths decided he didn't want to leave without doing some real damage, so he grabbed Pippin in one last frantic move. At this time Merry was beginning to arise from his unconscious state. The first thing Merry heard was Aragorn yelling "Pippin" at the top of his lungs. Merry then stumbled to his feet to try and figure out what had happened. Aragorn, getting nothing out of yelling for Pippin, turned to see which of the hobbits had yelled in pain. He noticed Frodo lying on the ground with Sam leaning over him nearly in tears. Merry frantically ran up to Aragorn screaming, "Where is Pippin? Where is he?" Aragorn replied in a soft tone, "They took him, those wraiths took him." Merry, devastated at the news of his best friend being taken from him, started to run off in the direction the wraiths left in. Aragorn knew that if he the wraiths caught Merry they would kill him. He also knew that there was a strong chance that the wraiths had already killed Pippin, and he didn't want Merry to see his friend dead, so he ran after Merry and grabbed him by the waist. Merry was screaming, "Let me go! Let me get Pippin. He needs me!" Aragorn replied, "There is nothing we can do for him. Come, Frodo needs our help. The wraith that snatched the young hobbit, was in such a hurry to catch up with the other wraiths, that he tossed Pippin aside. Pippin landed limp on the ground, blood now streaming from his wound. He also had other cuts and bruises covering his arms, legs and face. He was still unconscious and barely breathing. The night was cold and he had nothing to keep him warm. He lied on the cold ground for nearly three hours before he started to come to. He was only able to stay conscious for a couple of minutes at a time. He was cold and suffering from a mild case of hypothermia. He had lost a substantial amount of blood from his wounds. He was finally able to stay conscious for a little while. He wasn't able to move much more than his arms. He rolled to his side only to realize he had a gaping wound on his side. His clothes were soaked in blood and his wound was still bleeding profusely. He managed to tear off a large part of his left sleeve and press it against his bleeding side. He rolled back onto his back and tried to keep pressure on his side, but he knew he had to find another way to stop the bleeding. As he pondered his options, his vision grew hazy. He began to drift off into an unconscious state. He was only able to let out a soft cry for help before he lost consciousness.