As I'm sure you know, Goblins and Orcs are different. Goblins are smaller and stockier, fashioned more after dwarves, than the Orcs, which were Elves Sauron had tormented and twisted.
So... here is a little story inspired by something I read a long time ago and by The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien.
I own nothing except my dear Herenya Vardaressë
English is, by the way, not my mother tongue so please, forgive my mistakes!
In a cold winter night, a dark shadow crosses the mountains bordering the land of Ithilien. In her arms, a little bundle is wrapped in soft and warm covers.
She's running through the harsh and cold stones, running to the West, far from that dark place where only shadows and evil live.
The bundle in her arms suddenly wails, the distress cry of a child. Hushing the little one she's carrying, she ducked into a small cave, between rocks. But, int the darkness of the place, the cry has attracted an unwanted attention. It's only two eyes at first but then, pair by pair, these gleaming orbs filled the room until thousands of them were centered on the pour unfortunate souls who had trespassed their territory.
A sharp cry coming from the depths of the cave pushed the woman to run, the baby hidden against her chest. Stones were rolling beneath her feet as she was tumbling down the rocky hills. Dreamlike slowness and panic overwhelmed her as she tripped over that one and only root.
It was the first tree of Ithilen Forest, the first sign of life in these desolated lands. And it was the last thing she saw as she collapsed on the forest floor, an arrow piercing her right lung.
The Goblins that had just killed a woman, approached, ready to feast on the dying body that lay on ground wet with her blood. Cruel laughs sent eerie echoes into the dark of the moonless night. Flesh and skin being ripped, broken bones and gurgling blood filled the air with sickening sounds, until the whistling song of an arrow pierced the night, flying through the branches of ancient trees.
Goblins fell one after another. What was left of them ran as if they were pursued by Morgoth himself when the attacker stepped out of the woods.
The shooter stood by the tree, sighing at the sight of the dead and half eaten corpse at his feet. Turning the woman over in hope of discovering her identity, he knelt down, and frowned as the little bundle came to his view.
Lifting it from the red-stained ground, he cradled it in his arm when he laid eyes on the beautiful yet tearstained face of a baby girl. Lulling her through calm words, he rocked her in his arms, bringing her to sleep. On her chest, was a silver orb, a medal with a simple word on it : Varadessë. Bearer of hope.
I hope that you liked this first chapter ! The next one will be coming soon :)
