Images of Ioreth trapped in the filthy hands of this very Uruk burned into his mind. Seeing her carried off by this Uruk while he was beaten to the ground, seeing her struggle on the fortress wall as she watched her husband get beaten close to death and her son die by the Black Hand's sword while trapped in the towering Numorean's clutches...as he watched her throat get cut while he too was helpless...
He knew it was the same Uruk, the one in the middle who taunted him. It was a beefy sized creature with white, mangled hair tied back and green, boiling skin covered in acidic scars, the eyes yellow and wild with insanity. Bile rose in his throat as the very sight of the Uruk who touched his wife.
"You shall suffer for what you've done!" roared Talion, brandishing his long sword and charged at them.
As he did, the cold energy of the wraith overtook him and his body moved with the elf's graceful maneuvers. His sword clashed with the orcs' weapons, and as they swung at them with beastly roars, he only twirled beneath their blades, kicking them back, before managing to cut down one of them. Each time he took down a Uruk, he felt this sick, maddening delight, as well as his own twisting agony, as his sword buried deep into their flesh. Tears ran down his face as he growled and sliced through them more easily than he ever remembered.
Ioreth...Dirhael...Elanor...Ioreth...Dirhael...Elanor...
One of the Uruk's was yelling, "He's too fast! We should retreat!"
"The Black Hand wanted them all dead!" hollered the lead Uruk who had been Ioreth's captor. As he charged at Talion, the Ranger captain just stepped swiftly out of the way, causing the Uruk to stumble forward. Talion then grabbed the Uruk's back neck with brutal strength, pulled out Dirhael's broken sword, and stabbed the orc straight the back.
Then again. Again. Again. He kept stabbing the Uruk's back with blind rage, before finally letting the body drop at his feet. Talion spat at the body with vile and turned around...only for the remaining Uruk to crash him into a nearby wall. Grappling with the Uruk, which snapped at his face with its fangs, Talion elbowed it hard in the face and shot his hand out to shove him away...but the moment his palm connected with its face, a bright light flashed from his hand. Cold shock burst through his arm like a flash of icy lightning and shooting right up to his brain...Talion gasped and shoved the Uruk away. Leaning against the wall, Talion stared at the glowing light in his hand in awe, feeling it power surge through his body with vibrating energy. He had felt a connection...to the Uruk's mind...
The elf wraith then appeared at his side, nodding in encouragement. "Go back to him."
Clenching his jaw and swallowing his fear, Talion nodded and walked back toward the orc, who was crouched to ground, stunned from the reaction. Talion once again grabbed the Uruk's face, and then relaxed his body to let the elf wraith take control.
"Edwenno o gwath (Go forth from the shadow)!" shouted the elf wraith, the white light filling through the Uruk's eyes and gaping mouth, seizing its muscles and causing its groans of pain. It was at their mercy. "What do you know of the Black Hand of Sauron?" growled the wraith, pale eyes meeting the Uruk's.
The Uruk looked like it was internally struggling. "He...is a fiend! Made of thin air..."
"What more?" demanded the elf wraith, thrusting more power in its mind.
The Uruk whimpered. "A slave I had...swears he fought him...I sold him...for a keg of grog...to Gimub the Slaver."
The elf wraith and Talion then released the Uruk, the connection snapping like a piece of string. Once the light doused from the orc's eyes, the creature whimpered in fear, looking around with confusion, before retreating away from the area. Talion thought about chasing it down...but he was more interested in what had just happened. What he had just learned.
"That is where you have to go," the wraith told him grimly.
Talion's teeth gritted. "If one can trust an orc," he growled.
"Trust has nothing to do with it," snapped the wraith. "His thoughts cannot lie."
Talion sighed, feeling his rage shimmer down slightly as he sheathed Dirhael's sword. He gazed out into the mountains of Mordor, the ruins of its domain feeling so alien. "The world has changed," he said softly. "Nothing makes sense.
"Nothing has changed," said the wraith, no sign of sadness in his voice; the knowledge was merely fact to him, this mysterious elf ghost. "This is how it will be. The future and the past are linked in darkness."
Talion shivered. "I don't understand why I am here," he said, the fear crawling in his veins.
The elf wraith sighed. "And I can't remember," he admitted. "Let's go find the slaver. His mind may provide answers."
Talion shook his head sadly. "No, not yet. There are still things I have left to do here..." He looked up toward the wall where he left his wife and son. "I have to bury them."
Sensing the Ranger's thoughts, the elf wraith said a little harshly, "You cannot bury every body fallen on this field, Talion! It will take you a week at best!"
Talion glared at the wraith with annoyance, trying his best not to attack this spirit who was merely a reflection of what was within him. "No," he said tightly, "you are right...but I will not leave my family as prey for the orcs." His voice trembled at this. "If there is anything I am grateful for being here, it is to save them from that fate."
Suddenly, the wraith turned in the direction of the Black Gate, startled by something, causing Talion to follow his gaze. A chill went up his spine when he asked, "What is it?"
The elf wraith was frowning, peering at the Black Gate. "There is life in Morannon," he said, clearly surprised, "and it is not an Uruk. I….I feel….a connection…."
Realization punched him in the gut and he felt his face pale in fear. "Elanor," Talion whispered, and charged toward the desolate region of the Morannon.
Is it my daughter? he thought, almost desperately to the wraith. Half of him hoped it was her, but the other half hoped it wasn't. Because if it was, that would mean she was trapped inside the Black Gate, which was now overrun by Uruks. It would mean she was in danger.
Is it her? Please tell me it's her!
I cannot be certain. Somehow, I feel the connection, somewhere in Narchost….almost as strongly as I am connected to you…..perhaps in this way, I can look ahead.
"Narchost," breathed Talion, still running, but unsheathed his sword as he broke speed. If you find her, then you tell me where she is! Tell me where is my Elanor!
(Elanor)
I pocketed the pendant as I watched the Uruks fight for a while. I had to be ready stab them if they come anywhere near me. Dirhael said aim for the throat to go for the silent kill, armed as these creatures were. But could I do that? Could I kill two living things without hesitation, let alone silently with merely my letter opener?
Yes, I berated myself. Yes, I can. Remember all the Rangers. Remember my family. You're doing this for them. Besides, killing them quickly is merciful...unlike what they do to their kills!
An orc will not hesitate to kill you or cause you pain, whether you be a warrior or an innocent child, my father's voice echoed from my memories during his lessons. If you see one, run. If it attacks you, fight with everything you have and do not hesitate to kill it, when you can. An orc does not deserve any remorse.
My eyes spotted the kitchen knives in the far corner of the counter, beneath the shelves. If I jumped over the island counter, pass the Uruks grappling on the ground, I could grab one of the bigger knives and stab them with it...but I froze, shivering in the spot. I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it...
But then at last minute, when one of the Uruk's grabbed the other and shoved it against another stove, trapping it there as they snarled like animals at one another, I charged forward without another thought, leaping lightly across the island counter, my cloak flying the shadows, until I landed on the other side and yanked out a knife. Turning around, I was shocked that neither Uruk had noticed me the whole time they grappled noisily.
My stealth must be better than I give myself credit for, I thought proudly, but my smirk faded when the trapped Uruk's eyes spotted me.
"OI!" he yelled, and then I threw the knife into his face, wincing at the squelching noise it made. When the body fell, the other Uruk-much bigger and taller than me, I might add-turned to raised a weapon as me, opened its mouth to screech, but I had grabbed another kitchen knife out of pure impulse and threw that one with surprising speed-the blade plunging deep into its open mouth, straight at the back of its throat. With a tiny gag, the Uruk fell facedown onto the ground at my feet.
I breathlessly stared at the bodies with wide eyes, amazed with my much-improved aim and horrified with the gruesome kills my aim had caused. A mixture of pride and sadness tightened in my chest.
An orc does not deserve remorse.
Sorry, Father. I cannot help it, I thought. Maybe there's just something wrong with me. Shaking my head, trying to bite back tears, I started stepping over the bodies and reached the pantry on the other side, which was stored with foods and grains for the garrison in Narchost. It was as large as my room and smelled of spices. Climbing the shelves, I found two loaves of bread, three blocks of cheese, two apples, and a few lemon cakes, which I wrapped in a nearby cloth. The pounds of meat were already gone. Not that I would pack them. It is likely an orc could smell fresh meat a mile away and the last thing I needed was an Uruk to sniff me out while I was still in the Black Gate.
There were four places for weapons training through the whole Morannon. While many of the Rangers prefer training outside, they always stored them on the inside, in a narrow room lined with targets and cabinets that store many or the bows, knives, arrows, and swords. Fortunately, the nearest armory was down the opposite passage that led to the kitchens. The room where I keep my bow and arrows. And it was at ground level. Sort of. But there was a window. Small and narrow...but given how well that I fit into that little chute Dirhael pushed me through, I should be able to squeeze through this one horizontally...if I hold my breath.
"Don't get caught," I muttered to myself as I crept down the passage, holding the sack of food close to my chest under the cloak, hoping desperately that there was not a nearby Uruk around to smell it. Actually, I really hope I won't find a group of Uruks in the armory. Then I would have a problem.
After more sneaking through the shadows, listening for more Uruks, there were none but a few voices passing by down the halls or outside where I can hear them yell. Most of them were probably outside on the Morannon crossing...or other places. My mouth dried as I thought about how I would escape. What if there were Uruks surrounding the Hidden Pass outside, mutilating the bodies of Rangers while I'm running around the inside like a trapped mouse?
Thankfully, I found the armory empty, although to my grief, I found the mutilated bodies of more Rangers sprawled across the ground. I swallowed, gazing at the scene with a throbbing throat, but forcing to turn away, I rushed to the place where I kept my bow, which was hung in the large storage, above multiple holsters of arrows. I grabbed my bow, feeling the oaken smoothness of its curve, before grabbing one of the bundles of arrows, and slung both over my shoulder. I even found a belt of sheathed knives thrown carelessly on the floor and then tied it around my waist.
I was thinking about finding a sword, but for the Rangers, a sword was his own and nobody else's. I thought about searching the bodies for one, but quickly decided against it. Robbing a body was bad luck, unless the owner was a close family member. Normally, I'm not one for superstition, but this one seemed to shake me a little when actually facing the current situation.
As I had my weapons ready and my sack of food prepared, I turned around...and found myself facing a bright light figure standing before me, tall, transparent, and very pale. The face was mutilated with gruesome scars, growling down at me with a look of pure menace.
"She is here," the ghost said in a deep, smooth tone.
The sack dropped out of my limp hands as I stared at the phantom. The speech shook me out of my shock...and then follow confusuion...then a sharp drive of terror. The first thing that blew up in my mind was GHOST.
A DEMON WRAITH!
A lifetime of horror stories of the Hidden Pass, about the resurrection of dead orcs and criminal appearing in the air to haunt and terrorize the living to insanity and death, exploded from my knowledge and I did the one thing that I knew couldn't hold back as my first reaction: I let out a loud, terrified scream.
Oops, not exactly the right way to introduce himself to a thirteen year-old girl who is barely holding it together already. That would be my reaction if a scary-looking ghost suddenly appeared in front of me in a scary, dark fortress. Natural reaction, ya know:) But not good, since there are Uruks nearby!