The orcs snarled ferociously at them, baring hideously fanged teeth and screaming in their own language which grated on the ears like finger nails on a chalkboard. They were a single writhing, many teeth, yellow-eyed monster that seemed to swell in the street before the defenders.

Khayl wished for her armour then, full, strong plate armour would be especially nice, something more than her cured leather vest and metal gauntlets. But that wasn't liable to happen anytime soon so her sword would have to be both her offense and defence, the way Argo had taught her. But all of those teachings suddenly seemed irrelevant in the face of roiling mass of enemies that faced them. How were two supposed to survive so many, let alone prevail?

Argo seemed not to bear the same self-doubts that plagued his apprentice, for he roared out another challenge, throwing back his head and bearing his teeth in a feral grin. The bloodlust was upon him and he didn't hesitate as he charged forward into the prickling exterior of that black monster, knocking aside the rough swords and axe's that the orcs favoured, his own sword cleaving through their flesh like molten metal.

Khayl knew that she couldn't leave him to face this threat alone, for he would never have abandoned her. So as much as her instincts screamed at her to run, to hide and wait until the sun came out, her heart knew what truly must be done. So with a scream of her own she dashed forward knocking aside a sword and forcing her weapon into the soft flesh at the base of the throat. The creature gurgled as the she-dwarf tore her blade free, instantly swinging around to counter a sneaky strike that had lurched out of the darkness towards her unprotected back.

She spun free of it and lessened the orcs height considerably before a spear grazed past her shoulder, leaving a bloody furrow that was as long as her hand and spewed forth hot, crimson fluid. The sight of her own life force leaking down her arm and coating the orcs weapon drew forth a strange and primitive feeling within her that had her baying for retribution.

When it jabbed at her again she moved quickly, like a viper, and caught the shaft between an upthrust of her gauntlet and the downward blow of her sword, snapping the wood like the pitiful twig it was. Her blade whipped upwards mid-movement and sliced from his armpit to the opposite clavicle, sternum and heart both decimated by the well-honed blade. Another of the creatures bellowed and leapt forward, forgoing weapons all together. He managed to rake his claws against the lower edge of her chin, his teeth going for the throat, but an arrow sprouted from his temple at the same moment that Khayl's dagger darted out and shredded his abdomen. She still stumbled under his weight and momentum but managed to use it in a powerful throw that launched him into an enemy moving for Argo. The two went down and the she-dwarf used the momentary respite to glance for her saviour.

A boy, perhaps thirteen, was standing to one side of the street, away from the bulk of the fighting, and firing arrows almost impossibly quick. His companion was bigger, slightly older and wielded a woodcutter's axe. But despite the makeshift weapon his strength allowed him to decimate all orcs who dared to approach the two. They fought with a desperation that made a rage like she had never known blossom in Khayl's stomach. This was their home, and they were so young and fighting for their lives against an enemy that wanted nothing more than to relieve them of their heads and gorge themselves on their flesh.

Khayl gave a roar that hurt and tore at her throat, but sounded not too dissimilar to the one that Argo used to echo her. Red rose up and misted her vision and an untold strength coursed through her veins, begging her to use it, and to kill.

Her sword whistled through the air with blinding speed, ending any and all that dared to confront her. She knew now why Argo had seemed so fearless in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. This power, this strength … it made her invincible. She didn't feel the myriad of small cuts, bruises and scratches that marred her skin, didn't notice the pain when one of orcs had tackled her, sending her crashing to the ground, the sound of her shoulder screaming bizarrely muted. The smash of a shield to her temple staggered her, dazed her, but she fought on still, pushing all feeling to the back of her mind. Sensation had no place within her at that time.

The young dwarrowdam did, however, feel when Argo's hand clamped around hers, an ice cold feeling tingling up her arm, burning away the fire that seemed to dull all other senses. He jerked her back several stiff and reluctant steps. Each step away from the fight dulled that overwhelming feeling of nothingness, that lust for blood and destruction. When he saw her eyes had cleared slightly her leaned in and yelled square in her face.

"We've done all we can here! There are more coming! If we don't leave now, we die!"

"We're going to RUN!?" Khayl shrieked, still buried deep enough within the blood lust to be totally enraged at this turn of events.

"Most of the townspeople are gone! Now it's our turn!" Khayl took a quick look around her and noted that what he said was true. The streets were utterly empty save for the few men who had remained behind to continue fighting, to buy their loved ones time.

Khayl snarled and turned on her heel, feeling Argo follow. Together they ran through the streets, ending any orcs that dared to cross their paths. They ran back into the inn and sprinted up the tall, Mannish stairs, bursting into each of their rooms respectively. In her own room, Khayl threw open the closet and hurriedly pulled off her coat and slipped a second, heavier tunic over her head before tugging on her leather vest, the iron scales across the back and clustered on the chest glinting softly in the firelight. Then her coat was back on and her sword sheath, quiver and bow where strapped to her back. Knives were in her boots and her favourite on the strap across her chest, her hand axe hanging at her left hip. She also grabbed for her coin purse and water skin, fastening them to her broad belt even as she ran back out the door.

The dwarrowdam spun into Argo's room, reflexively catching the satchel he tossed at her before both dwarves leapt back down the stairs. Khayl was halfway, ahead of Argo, when a dark, misshapen face appeared followed by a massive, scarred body as the figure ascended the stairs. The orc glanced up in time to see Khayl's boot swing out into its face as she jumped at it but then they were both falling back, clunking on each wooden step with a racket that would wake the dead.

Having reduced her momentum on impact, Khayl didn't tumble as far as the orc but she was still moving quite fast when she came to a jolting stop on her back, her head facing towards the base of the stairs where a dark figure was sprawled. The same dark figure pulled itself up and sneered at her, blood dripping from its face from the collision with her iron toed boot. Khayl wriggled fiercely and awkwardly but her bow had somehow become jammed between the wall and one of the steps and she couldn't work it free for the position she was in. She could only watch as the orc worked its way back up towards her, a viciously hooked blade in its hand. But then something whistled past her legs and one of Argo's knives buried itself within the creature's forehead, causing it to fall back, stone dead, with a dull echoing thud.

Argo leapt past her on the stairs, grabbing Khayl's foot in passing and using it to pull her heels over head, her bow scraping against the stairs with a pitch that made her wince. She tried to halt the motion once she was right side up once more, but the law of Inertia had other ideas and Khayl came to a graceless stop at the foot of the stairs, once more sprawled on her back, draped over the corpse of the orc.

She sniffed as she pulled herself upright and shot a look of utter disgust at the corpse and then turned it upon Argo.

"That was uncalled for."

"In my opinion," he said as he moved towards the main door, scanning the corners for more threats. "It just goes to show how easily an accident can get you killed." Noticing that he was ignoring her more than disgruntled statement Khayl muttered a few very choice words in Khuzdul that had Argo smirking over his shoulder at her.

"You should have seen your face!" he smiled as pushed the door open marginally, the din of battle filtering in through the opening. "You looked like a beetle trapped upon its shell!"

"I'm glad you're amused." Khayl commented dryly, a wry smirk touching her face as her mind conjured images of what she must indeed have looked like. But that was not the time for wandering thoughts and she steeled herself once again as she followed Argo out of the door and into the mostly deserted streets.

Khayl closed her ears to the sounds of the battle that raged behind them, clogging the town centre. The screams of the men coupled with the shrieking of orcs and incessant clash of iron made her want to turn back and tear the foul creatures apart with her bare hands but she pushed those thoughts aside. She didn't want to die, not really, and so the human part of her was very selfishly grateful that they were escaping and leaving others to cover for them. It was the strong sense of loyalty and honour that defined her character that made every step she took feel like a personal defeat. But that was why Gandalf had said she was turned into a dwarf in the first place, so she imagined that Argo was feeling exactly the same way in that respect.

It was then, as they were passing out of the outskirts of the town, that Khayl realised they weren't on the Western side where the rest of the townspeople had fled to. When the orcs had come from the East and South the people had fled West where the danger was least. Khayl and Argo were on the North-West side of town and Argo showed no signs of circling around. Confused and slightly frustrated the young dwarrowdam stopped short watching sternly as her mentor continued on a few metres before realising she was no longer with him. Argo turned back, a questioning glint in his eye that was only visible through the thin streams of moonlight that snuck through the thick canopy above them.

"Where are we going?" Khayl snapped. "Why are we not going back to the rest of the townspeople?" her tone was hard and sharp as shards of glass and she saw a hesitant look on Argo's face. No, not hesitant –wary.

"I've told you already, we cannot do anymore for these people," seeing the rising glare and argument upon his young apprentices face Argo hurried onwards. "But there are other towns nearby and we need to thing of the majority." He watched Khayl's face as she methodically digested this information.

"So we're going to warn the other towns?" she presumed, rubbing the back of her hand against the small dusting of beard on her chin.

"No, only the ones we pass very close to." Argo seemed to believe that the she-dwarf had regained enough of her senses not to sporadically attack him or run off and resumed jogging quickly through the dense trees.

"Pass? Where are we going?" Khayl's annoyance was rapidly rising in response to Argo's less than satisfactory answers.

"To Ered Luin, to the halls of Thorin Oakenshield, King-in-Exile of Durin's folk." He could see the question forming on Khayl's lips so he ploughed on. "It's the only place we will find a force strong enough to combat those orcs. We could warn every village and town on this side of the world but they will still be helpless, warned or no."

Khayl was silent for several long moments and when he glanced at her he found he could see naught of her expression given the shadows that were rapidly rippling over her features as they moved. So he waited for her to say something, anything for, though he would never admit it, he was uncertain and uneasy with this course of action. He could be unintentionally sacrificing hundreds of people to death. He just wanted someone to confirm that what he was doing was right, or at least for them to drag him away from this plan before he could do too much damage.

Khayl would do one or the other, he knew that, and she would make the decision based on a cold, clinical calculation rather than a hot-headed, heartfelt, spur-of-the-moment action. It was one of these moments that he missed being in the army, always with someone else to make the hard, necessary decisions. Back then all he had to do was follow orders and kill enemies and that had suited him just fine. Responsibility could be stifling, he mused as he continued to wait for Khayl's response.

"I… I understand. That will be for the best," As hard as she tried to hide it, Khayl's uncertainty was more than apparent in her voice and though her choice of words were in agreement with him he was not at all comforted.

"Ered Luin it is then." He said, trying to contain his sigh.

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A/N Well, this chapter was fun for a while. And it did sort of get edited so yay! (by edited I mean I went back and beefed it up and read through it a little, fixing a couple of blemishes ) but other than that here is Chapter Seven. As you can probably tell I enjoy writing action and am currently playing with the idea of 'bloodlust' like a berserker. But I am more using the bloodwrath outlined in Brian Jacques Redwall series that is experienced by the Badger Lords (still my all-time favourite book series!) . So that's where that comes from. I also just wanted to have someone (Khayl) fall down some stairs and things just kind of snowballed from there. I don't like stairs.

Aaaand it's really late and I'm really tired and this will be uploaded on the morrow when the internet decides to return… so written at night, uploaded at day… I don't even know anymore…

Anyway, please review because I get sad if people don't and it truly just makes my day when someone writes even a handful of words for me to moon over while I forge out my next chapter. As of now I do have a reasonable plan of where everything's going so hopefully the sailing will be smoother from here on in.

Thanks to Dalonega Noquisi for your review, it made me smile. A lot. Also special thanks to Marina Oakenshield because it's just nice to know that you're still there! Also to all of my new followers… welcome!

Thanks for reading! It means the world!

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