Chapter 3
Two men quietly moved through the trees, scouting about reports from a nearby settlement that orcs had supposedly attacked the area. One man froze suddenly, realising where he was.
"Ara...Strider," Halbarad whispered, "what's wrong?"
"N-n-nothing," the younger man answered shakily, "just brings back some unwanted memories." He staggered back as visions clouded his mind. Pain. Torture. The sound of jeering Orcs filled his ears. He froze on the spot.
"Strider, come," Halbarad started pulling him, he slowly began to move. The older man's voice had a great urgency; he could hear Orcs on the wind. "Come on, we have to move."
"Can't...pain...too much pain..."
"Snap out of this Aragorn, what you feel is not real. But we have to move, before it becomes real." he slapped the younger ranger hard; it seemed to pull him out of his daze.
"I'm sorry...I..." he trailed off, not knowing what to say as they hid behind a clump of bushes.
Hours later the Orcs had passed and they waited a little longer before continuing their journey.
"I think it is clear that Orcs have been here. "Aragorn stated, "come I think we should leave, I wish to stay here no longer than I have to."
Halbarad sighed and followed his friend slowly through the forest. Not long later a noise startled them.
"Don't look behind you Mellon," Aragorn said softly.
"Why?" he turned to see a giant spider looming over him.
"Come on, run," it was the younger man's turn to pull the other from a daze.
"I never knew they could be so big..." he trailed off running northwards. They soon met with a patrol of Orcs. Aragorn fought back the memories and slashed his way through the enemy. "We cannot kill them all," the older shouted, "Strider, we must run."
"What are you standing around for then," the younger sprinted passed him, "I don't want to relive certain experiences." For the first time Halbarad sure pure fear behind his younger friend's eyes.
"Do you...think we...lost them?" the older ranger asked breathlessly as they ducked behind a tree.
Suddenly an arrow flew at him and embedded in his shoulder.
Aragorn warily drew his sword; he would not be taken again without a fight.