Ash49: You know what? You're right. I hadn't even thought of that. The reason why I actually had okay in there was to demonstrate to readers the slurrage in Legolas's voice that I described earlier. It's pretty easy to stick on an s' before okay and have the reader interpret that as slurring in the voice. I would substitute it, but I can't think of another word to go in its place. Got any ideas maybe? (hey, you are after all, my language expert!! lol) Thanks for the pointer though.
If you weren't Ash49 who just read the above paragraph, then I imagine that you were somewhat bored with our conversation. Therefore, let me entertain you with...
Tracking Fights and Following Friends
Tanvir was running through the forest, his enemy fleeing before him. The elf had engaged this corsair only for a few minutes before it had opted for the coward's way out, fleeing in terror from this warrior.
Smoothly and evenly as he ran, Tanvir pulled an arrow to his bow and released it. It sunk into the corsair's throat. The elf took grim pleasure in that fact. He spat at the body as he ran by it, already searching for another enemy to bring down.
He had been fighting dearly ever since he had left Legolas's side. And he had also been searching. All of the scouts that had been sent to find their king had come back with no luck. Tanvir was confused, Thranduil was an honorable elf, but right now it appeared the king had abandoned his people.
The archer shook his head. They would have to find the king and sort this all out later. In the meantime, Legolas was more than capable of ruling Mirkwood by himself. If only the kingship had not come to him so tragically.
Tanvir turned back to where they had last left the elven prince. He would have to be informed that command rested solely on his shoulders now. Moving expertly through the trees Tanvir noticed that many spiders had moved away from the area of healing. That was good, it meant the defenses had arrived.
He entered the clearing where he had last seen the others. The few cots were still there, but other than that, it was completely deserted. Legolas was gone.
The two corsairs looked at one another. They were both breathing heavily as they had been running as fast as they could, while dragging a stout dwarf behind him. They had bound his hands, legs, and had wrapped cloth tightly around his eyes so that he couldn't see anything. But right now they didn't have to worry about Gimli escaping, he was still down for the count.
They had ran quickly with the dwarf, aiming to take him back to their ship, but now they found that their path back was cut off by a massive, roaring wall of flame. They would have to detour around it somehow. This promptly lead to what corsairs do best, arguing.
"If we go thatter way it'll take weeks fore we get back oaf, dragging this lump. The fire gets worse than whot it is 'ere."
"Yur blind. Cantcha see that if we go right we'd be goin straight back to those shootin elves. If you wanna face their arrows fine, I knows which ways for me."
"I ain't walkin to my death. Me and the dwarf go this way."
"Says who? The dwarf comes with me."
"Yeah? So yur can get all the profit? Ha! Over my dead body."
The first corsair drew his sword, "If that's whot yur want!"
The second drew out his scimitar. And quick and bloody brawl ensued while the two fought furiously. It ended when the second made the mistake of tripping over Gimli. He fell full face onto his stomach, rolling over in time to be run through.
"Ha! Now all profits go to me!" The corsair dragged his fallen pirate comrade a few minutes, dumping him by a tree. "This'll distract any of em crawlies. Ugg, spiders. Lucky thing this forest is burnin em all alive!" He laughed out loud, pleased at his victory, pleased that profit would be coming to him, and pleased that the enemy was suffering. He returned to where the dwarf was, and then took the left path. Straight into spider territory.
He whirled around to his left, which proved to save his life. Sanul had been aiming for the back of his neck, now instead his whip only met Aragorn's quiver instead of flesh. Sanul quickly jerked it back to him, shaking the ranger's balance in the process. He whipped it again, and Aragorn dropped and rolled quickly and the mithril tips bit into the earth.
Sanul stepped out into the clearing, grinning, his enemy was at his mercy. He pulled back and let lose his weapon once again.
Unfortunately for him, he had underestimated Aragorn. The king rolled along the ground, towards Sanul, the whip tips going over him, and missing again. He the rolled sideways and sprang to his feet in one fluid motion. He drew his sword and faced off against this thing.
He heard a laugh emanate for the dark, "You are foolish."
Aragorn did not reply. He prepared himself to move quickly should the whip come again. Which it did. Sanul snapped it sideways, and then quickly brought it up, obviously hoping to catch the ranger as he dodged in the opposite direction.
It almost worked, but again Aragorn's reflexes were too fast. The mithril missed him again, but the backside of the whip caught his sword hand, leaving an angry red welt on it.
Sanul was still not worried, so this man wanted to challenge him? He spoke again, "You cannot dodge me forever."
"I can and I will."
A hissing laugh was Sanul's only response. He and Aragorn circled each other warily, waiting for the moment when a full-blown battle would commence.
Legolas blinked. Sounds from far off had reached his keen ears, waking him. He stretched cautiously and slowly and found to his relief that much healing had been done while he slept. He looked around, the other cots near him were empty, he was the only person in the small clearing.
He now tried to stand. His back was stiff and sore, but he managed. Walking around experimentally he found that the dizziness, which had graced him since he had sat up, faded away. He was not in prime condition maybe, but he was whole once more.
As he was walking his eyes caught site of the ground, easily reading the story written upon it. There were two dwarf footprints, spaced apart, so Gimli had been standing. Now he was running off towards the trees. Legolas followed the tracks. At the edge of the clearing there were signs of others, broken branches and two other sets of footprints, smaller than the dwarf's. These turned and ran off, Gimli's feet followed them. Obviously he was chasing corsairs.
He skillfully followed the tracks a ways into the woods, moving quickly, but then he saw something that brought him to an immediate halt. Gimli's helmet was lying on the forest floor, a bit of blood upon it. Legolas's heart leapt into his throat. Surely the dwarf wasn't dead? Surely?
He found the pair of tracks again, this time they were obviously dragging something. No, Gimli would be still alive them if they were bothering to take the dwarf with them. His face set, Legolas set out to hunt them down and find his friend.
Tanvir sighed as he looked around the clearing. There were signs of five different people going into the forest. One he recognized as Gimli's prints, and one as Legolas's. But the other three he could not make out. For the moment they all followed the same path. So he followed it as well.
After only a few minutes of this, he was faced with a branch off. One set of tracks cut distinctly away from the other four that were still headed in the same direction. 'Why would this one leave his friends?' Tanvir of course, had forgotten that not all paths were made during the same time, and that the footprints that branched off belonged to Aragorn, who had come this way much earlier before Gimli, Legolas, or the corsairs.
Tanvir followed Aragorn's. He was curious to what had been going on back here and was determined to find out. The tracks looked light, he assumed them Legolas's, and that the elf was returning to the area of healing for more rest.
He was glad to know that Legolas was able to move about on his own now. Seeing his friend so near death had scared him like nothing had ever before. Legolas was the closest friend he had, and they had bonded strongly together. His friend's suffering was his own. Now that Legolas was in charge, Tanvir wished to be there for him, to offer help in any way he could.
Legolas of course, had no idea that his father had not been found, and that he should really now be commanding. He trusted the fact that he would have been found and informed if his father was killed. He followed the tracks of the corsairs quickly and with relative ease.
Now though he came to an impasse. He had reached the line of fire, and it had burned away at the footprints, making it hard to know which way to turn. The elf took comfort in the fact that the corsair and Gimli couldn't have gotten past this fire either. He tried to think about which way he would go if he were a corsair.
The ships would be his destination he supposed, or the main battlefield. Both of those lay to the right. But how well did the corsair know these woods? And by the sounds, it seemed another battle was taking place to his left. Perhaps the corsair mistook those ones for the main battle and headed that way?
Legolas cast his sharp elven eyes across the ground. If only there was some sort of clue he could follow for sure! But only burnt leaves and smoke he saw. There was no way to tell.
In the end, the elf picked up two stones, and threw them with equal strength in the two opposite directions. Turning to his right he counted the paces to the fallen stone. Twenty-five. Then going back to the original spot he counted the spaces to the stone that had fallen to the left. Nineteen. Right the direction would be. He hurried, picking up his pace, looking for more tracks.
It was another fifteen minutes before he came upon the dead corsair. He wrinkled his nose at the stench of the roasting body. For indeed, here the air around them was very hot, causing the corsair's skin to sheen. The corpse was grotesque looking and Legolas turned away from it. Searching forward though, he saw no tracks leading away. He was confused until he looked back behind him and saw tracks to the left.
Suddenly the picture became clear in his mind. This corsair had been dragged here, and then abandoned while his friend turned in the opposite direction. Which meant left should have been his choice earlier. Left, which meant spider territory.
Without even hesitating Legolas turned and plunged into the forest, looking for tracks heading left. Spiders or no, he would find Gimli or die trying.
Aragorn ducked. Sanul, he knew, was now only amusing himself. The ranger was tiring, this whip was moving too fast. He knew that at any moment an opening might show through his defense and then he would be done for it. He prayed to the Valar for this not to happen.
The whip came at him, and he moved again. It scratched his quiver. The ranger now had an idea of where the three marks came from on the bodies, and he supposed that the tips were poisoned. That was why the elves had died seemingly so easily.
This time when the whip came he couldn't dodge. He was prepared. He held his arm up and took the hit. The length of the whip spun upwards along his hand, and then further up, wrapping around his sword. The poisoned tips hit at the top of the sword, metal striking metal. Aragorn knew what to do.
He pulled with all his might, and yanked Sanul a few feet forward. As he did, part of the cloak slip forward, revealing to the ranger the shoulder of a man. This infuriated him that he had been so deceived, thinking that some dark spirit was what he had been fighting. He hacked his sword against the trunk of a tree, snapping through the whip. The weapon was ruined.
Sanul gave a cry of rage. He moved his cloak and drew his sword. He attacked before Aragorn could remove his own weapon and so the ranger found himself defenseless once again. He swerved, fighting as best he could with his fists, but this was not enough. A blow landed on his arm, and he stumbled bleeding.
Sanul used the hilt of his sword to slam Aragorn in the middle of his back. The ranger fell to his knees, but then continued with the momentum, rolling over, pulling out his knife and then standing.
The long sword clashed against the small blade. Sanul fought dangerously, with the strength of a score of men. Aragorn found himself hard pressed. He was being forced back he saw, to where a line of flames was awaiting him. The old tree, which he had used to cut the whip with, was burning up, looking ready to collapse any moment. If only he could get to his sword!
Looking back cost him. Another blow was landed. This time is was to his chest, slicing through the skin drawing more blood. Though it was not deep, it was painful. Sanul laughed at him again.
New determination appeared on Aragorn's face. He allowed himself to be driven back to where Andruil waited for him. Sanul realized his mistake too late. The sword was in the ranger's hands, whistling a deadly battle song.
Now indeed a vicious battle began. Metal clanged against metal, sweat poured down Aragorn's face, and though it could not be seen, sweat trickled down Sanul's face as well. He had not expected this renewed burst of strength.
The two crossed over the terrain, sometimes headed towards the fire, sometimes away from it. Dirt flew up as they scuffed the ground, and smoke was in their eyes. Aragorn parried an attack, and then swinging high, abruptly changed direction and slashed in downwards diagonally, ripping a whole in the cloak. Drawing blood from the flesh underneath.
Sanul gasped. Never before had anyone managed to pass his defenses. He put extra energy into his next attack, crashing down on Aragorn's sword, bending it low to the ground. Then, lifting quickly, he brought the sword down again onto the ranger's blade with all of his force behind it. Andruil clattered from Aragorn's hands. He had dropped it from the unexpected maneuver.
Sanul whirled forward and struck him squarely in the jaw. Blood pooled around the corner of the king's lips. His eyes went bleary. Sanul struck him again, this time to the temple, but not hard enough to render the man unconscious or dead. The captain then plunged his sword into the flesh of the man's leg. Aragorn cried out and fell to the ground. He was crippled. His sword was too far way to reach, and there was no time to reach it anyways. Sanul came down, moving in to finish his enemy off.
Thranduil launched another stone out at the spiders. They had caught up with him. The arachnid fell dead, the stone had hit him squarely in the eye. The elven king gained another few steps out of the territory, though he still had many, many to go.
Hissing spiders were all around him. Jumping at him from trees, clawing at his legs as he ran past. Some had moved ahead to go cut him off. He knew he was trapped. He had been brought in too deep to be able to fight his way out by himself. This part of the forest he had been unfamiliar with as it was not often the king traveled deep into the spiders' nesting grounds.
Webs were being spun to trap him with, but to these he paid no heed. He would fight to his death, webs or no webs. They would never claim him alive.
The corsair looked around him, nervousness had been growing steadily in his heart. He had become worried long ago the he had chosen the wrong way, but it had been too late for him to turn back. He had become hopelessly lost just as Urgsha had before him. He blamed it on the corsair he had killed.
He gave one last look at the dwarf, indecision playing clearly across his face, and then left Gimli behind. He cared only for his own skin now, and for making it back to the ship alive. This forest was full of dangers that he did not care to face.
Unfortunately, about three minutes later he did face it. Running past a tree, almost lazily a claw reached out and tripped him. He looked over his shoulder to see the many green colored eyes bear down on him as the spider approached. This was one of the more unmerciful ones as it didn't even use its stinger before it started to eat him alive.
The clouds were moving. They were crossing over the Ash Mountains, and now Arwen watched as they headed straight for Minas Tirith. She prayed to the Valar that no lightning would come. She prayed that Aragorn was safely fighting the flames, and that he would soon return to her. She spent all afternoon standing on her balcony, gazing out at the smoke. Tears rolled down her cheeks, for some reason she felt as if she would never see him again. That once he went under that smoke, he would never return.
Tanvir hurried through the forest, following the tracks. They were headed towards the line of fire now. He heard a cry from ahead and burst through the remaining trees, finally coming upon end of the trail.
The dark creature was about to kill Aragorn.
Tanvir reached into his quiver to discover that no arrows remained. With a cry of rage he sprung over, throwing his bow aside and drawing his blade. The elven sword slid down swiftly to block Sanul's. The two swords hovered but three inches from Aragorn's chest. Sanul was pressing down with all his might, but Tanvir held firm.
Aragorn could only lean his head weakly back as blackness stroked at his vision. His leg was in excruciating pain, and was bleeding, though thankfully not heavily. Sanul had been ready to deliver the final blow. It was only by a miracle that Tanvir had arrived when he did. Now the elf fell into combat with the dark corsair. His sword matching every stroke of Sanul's. Aragorn was defended for the moment, but the blows he had received left him to weak to assist the elven warrior. He could only watch as the two skirmished over the same ground he had just previously fought on.
The fighting was quick. Any mistakes would surely mean death. Tanvir had not lived thousands of years in ignorance of swordplay. Though archery was his preferred method of fighting, he was deemed an expert with the blade.
Sanul had also honed his sword fighting down to the barest and deadliest of moves. Many nights he had practiced by sending men of his crew to their deaths. He fought with confidence.
The two moved about, swinging upwards to be blocked, feigning and slashing. Attacks were made for the belly area, and were blocked off skillfully. Their battle too ranged all over the small space available to them for footwork. Tanvir fought hard, spurred on by the fact that this was the man who had caused so much suffering to happen in his home. And by the fact that if he failed, Aragorn would die.
Gimli found that he couldn't move.
He had swum up out of unconscious, confused. He couldn't remember what had happened exactly to him, only that for one second he had been engaging in the thrill of the chase, and the next he was moaning somewhere, bound and blinded.
He cursed at himself in his dwarvish tongue, wondering why he had been felled so easily that he couldn't even recall the incident. He tried moving his hands, and found to his relief that they were in front of him. He pulled his blindfold off quickly.
Then he wished he hadn't. He was in some dark part of the forest, completely alone, and he had no idea in which direction he had come.
That's when he heard the scuttling off to his right. He tensed and
crawled carefully over to put his back up against a tree. He was relieved
to see that he was still armed, his captives hadn't removed his axes yet.
Now if only he could get out of the bothersome ropes.
He found a sharp rock and started to tear the bindings against it.
He knew it would be tedious work. It was then that Thranduil staggered
into the clearing, nearly stumbling into the dwarf in his surprise. The
spiders were right on his tail.
Legolas heard something a few leagues off in the woods. It did not sound like spiders, they had a distinct rustling sound. No, what it really sounded like was dwarf mumbling.
Gimli!
He ran forward, following the noise, hastily brushing past and ignoring small strands of silky material that fell against his face. He had eyes only for the ground and for the path straight ahead, clearly showing him the tracks now. He realized a few seconds later how foolishly he had just acted.
For after only a few paces more he had to stop as he saw a sticky web stretched out in front of his path. Spinning around he came face to face with a wall of eyes. They were all blinking at him with a hungry excitement. He had run straight past the spiders, right into their nest, deep in arachnid territory.
hope this was long enough, I know the chapters are kind of getting shorter, but the climax is approaching! (dun dun dun). (yeah, not very dramatic I know.)
I'm glad if you enjoyed, sorry if you didn't. I tried my best!
silvanelf