El: Thanks… let's see.. where DID I learn all this grammar? Oh yeah… YOU! Thanks for keeping all these ramblings in order and correcting my many mistakes! big hugs

Zammy: Thanks for taking the time to review. I'm sorry if this seems a long time to wait for a posting, but college is a beast and I will try to update every weekend. Let me know what you think!

Naomie: Thanks for the great review! blush I thought it started out a bit slow, with Saruman and everything, but it DOES pick up as the chapters progress. I hope you enjoy the rest of it! Let me know what ya think!

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Chapter Three: Where Ever You Go…

Haldir descended to the ground level and whistled a few short bursts, using the signal that called his command to him. The whistle was carried from outpost to home and throughout the wood, each elf listening intently and passing it on to the next while they hurried to assemble.

Rúmil and Orophin rushed to keep Haldir's pace as he rounded into the training area. Already there were elves waiting for their leader, their faces taunt and worried about what could have caused such a summon. Anxieties were soon squashed as Haldir barked out orders for those to line up and snapping at why they lacked their weapons and armor. One tried to explain they had just woken up, while others were preparing to leave on their assigned posts, but Haldir did not allow for excuses. He stalked around the Elves lining up; some of them in distinctly ruffled clothes and sleep still clearly evident in their eyes.

Several Elves rushed into the meeting, positioning themselves according to rank and station. Haldir sized them up as more and more poured in around him, coming to immediate attention and awaiting their commander's orders.

When roughly one hundred were waiting, Haldir addressed them, "There has been an attack on our borders. Our kin have been taken from the wood. We will double our efforts, and I will be taking some of you with me in search of our lost brethren."

Several guards shifted nervously in line but Haldir paid them no notice as he walked between their ranks.

"Herugon! You will take your guards to the southern border. Keep your shifts short and your minds alert. Do not spread yourselves thin. Keep close together in case of another attack. If you are outnumbered, call out for help."

The one called Herugon nodded quickly, raised his arm, barked an order to follow him and roughly twenty elves followed him out of the clearing to retrieve their gear and to prepare for their journey to the border.

More Elves piled into the line, taking the places of those that left. Haldir ignored them and continued, "Vornlos, Loslúin, you will take your guards to the eastern border. Keep patrols short and close together. Do not allow any to scout or become separated." The two whom Haldir addressed nodded, and forty Elves exited the training area, following their leaders.

When the guards rushed out, Haldir turned to face the remaining troops, and the ones still filing in to replace the ones already assigned, "Luinae, you will rotate with the guard on the western border."

Nodding, the elf beckoned his troops to follow them and left the clearing. All were seasoned warriors, their subordinates highly skilled fighters and long-time guards of the realm. Knowing that his commanders knew the routine, Haldir turned his attention to the ones that were remaining behind and the leading commanders still left. Several commands were already at the borders, doubling their usual numbers.

An elf, dark of hair and eye, stood with a look of concern on his face as he watched the Warden give out assignments.

"Ivaswaetar," Haldir said, turning to face the dark elf, "I want you to remain here with your contingent. I will need someone I can trust to coordinate with the leaders and reassign new soldiers into position. When they tire or become injured, you are to send out the ones capable of taking their place. No one is to remain on watch for long periods of time. Keep their minds and bodies fresh. I do not want falters because of fatigue and boredom."

The dark haired elf nodded once in understanding, his black eyes glittering. Ivaswaetar had the quality of a natural leader, though he was still young and not as experienced as those going to the borders.

As he had proved throughout the past century, he could give strong commands; keep troops in perfect arrangement, and would never show any signs of stress. He also had the ability to sense when one was in danger and send reinforcements at the precise time they were needed, perfectly keeping a steady, fighting battalion with fresh soldiers and almost no wounds.

 Haldir admired the young elf for these reasons, even though he was different from any other elf of Lothlorien, with their golden hair and sea-blue eyes. Haldir never asked of Ivaswaetar's parentage, but guessed they fared from either Mirkwood or Imladris where dark hair and eyes were more common.

"Sindarweth, you will accompany me to the northern border," Haldir said shortly to an Elf taller than he. The Elf nodded once and barked out the order for those in his command to follow.

Haldir turned to Rúmil, second in field command and gestured he and Orophin to follow too, "Rúmil, you and your guards will accompany me to the northern border, where half will remain to support the guards already in position, the rest will accompany me to track down our missing brethren."

Rúmil nodded curtly, then exchanged a dark look with Orophin, who face was screwed up in concern.

Haldir lead the way back to the flet he shared with his brothers, Rúmil and Orophin huffing behind him as they entered and went their separate ways. Each went to their room, packing small travel bags with Elven rope, lembas, and in Orophin's case, several small bottles and cashes of medicinal herbs and spare clothe for bandages. When they hurriedly finished with their packing, they donned their quivers and bows and clamored back into the common area. The trio grabbed their swords from their resting places on the wall and met in the center of the talan.

Wordlessly, the three brothers unsheathed their swords and pointed them outward, the three weapons singing their dangerous song as they bore through the air. Their clean, razor sharp edges glinted, though no light was cast upon them. All three were exquisite in design and unlike anything of known architecture. 

The blades glowed a soft white radiant light, and bent into a graceful arc, with double edges, delicate and highly dangerous. The metal was of unknown element and composition, which could cut through any creation of sword, Elven and other alike, and was forged within the hilt of pure white ivory. All three were engraved with the name of the one who bore it, and the epitome in Elvish scroll that read,

m ain thal maim osta My wielder embodies that which I defend

Artur, Mel', Lat" Dignity, Love, and Honor

"Let us hope they remain innocent and our journey end without bloodshed," Rúmil said softly as the three brothers strapped the weapons to their sides. Haldir added a couple small daggers to the inside of his boots. Orophin and Rúmil secured long knives on their packs, the deadly blades at the ready in a moment's notice.

Haldir and Orophin mutely agreed and left the flet in silence. Returning to the training area, the trio found Rúmil's contingent of warriors standing at the ready, a full quiver of arrows upon their backs, bows in their hands, knives and swords strapped to their sides. With a quick recount of the past events, Rúmil informed his guards of their destination and what was expected of them. Though he knew they were strong and well trained, he couldn't help but emphasize how important their jobs were.

With Haldir's trained eye, he noticed several swell up with pride, their chests heaving and chins raised high as they accepted the honorable positions, and felt their confidence rise that they were chosen for this specific task. Many fought to keep their smiles off their faces, but only partially succeeded, their lips turned up slightly in the corners.

When Rúmil finished giving the orders, he turned expectantly to Haldir. With a quick nod, Haldir raised his hand and shouted out, "Galadhrim! Move!"

Marching in pairs, the soldiers moved out, Haldir in the lead with his two brothers flanking him, walking a pace behind. The guards stalked out into the shrouding night, their steps light and silent, even with their numbers. From their private talan, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel watched their warriors depart. Galadriel's hand tightened on her husband's that held her tightly to quell the trembling.

"The Vala will watch over them," Celeborn said softly, leading his wife away from the view of the last of the Galadhrim leaving.

"They are led well. Haldir will not let them fall," Galadriel's voice was barely over a whisper as she allowed her spouse to lead her into their inner chamber. Though she meant it to be a statement, her tone made her sound as though the words were only true when spoken aloud.

Celeborn nodded in agreement, his thoughts drifting to the past and of the deeds Haldir had done; ones thought inconceivable and unfathomable, yet he had pulled them off, risking his own life and nearly losing it in the process. Galadriel was right; Haldir will lead them well and would not let any of those under his command fall. Secretly, the Lord of Lothlorien remembered his wife's prediction, and prayed the Valar stay close to the March Warden, and that the loyal guard would return safely.

Haldir waited until the guards had cleared Caras Galadhon, when the mallorn trees became thicker, that he quickened his pace, Rúmil and Orophin falling into step at his side. Dawn was breaking to the east, the world was beginning to awaken to a new day as the sun spread warmth and light over the lands.

Rúmil grabbed Haldir's hand suddenly, his eyes glassing over and his steps faltered.

Haldir stopped the troops behind following his example and watched as the brothers converged.

"Rúmil, what is wrong?" Haldir asked, his hand tingling from the blood being cut off by Rúmil's iron grip.

Rúmil began to shake, the trembling transferring over to Haldir and causing his own body to jerk.  Rúmil gasped out, his eyes rolling back into his head, and he slumped forward. Haldir caught him before he hit the ground.

"Haldir, evil has entered the wood," Rúmil said softly, looking up into his brother's eyes.

A lump formed in Haldir's throat as he surveyed his brother. The guards behind them stirred restlessly, their eyes flickering though the trees, their nerves so on edge that were it to manifest into physical form, it would have been a blade sharp enough to cut through even the thickest and oldest tree in the ancient wood.

To quell the uneasiness of their charges, Haldir yelled over his shoulder, "Guards, at ease! We are still within the heart of Lothlorien, and therefore still under the protection of the Lady and her powers."

Tension lessened within the group as the soldiers realized their commander was right. All elves knew of the powerful ring and the more powerful she-elf that commanded it, and the feeling of security settled into their hearts. The evil would not remain for long within these borders.

Rúmil lulled against Haldir, his eyes trying to focus on what was ahead of them. After a couple of tense moments, his vision cleared and an icy chill ran down his spine, snapping him back to attention in an instant.

"Haldir, the evil has fled, but I feel an uncertainty…. A pain within our borders," Rúmil said as his brow drew down in confusion.

"Then, we shall hasten." Haldir said turning to the troops and barking loudly, though he knew their heightened hearing would heed him even if he did not shout. "Galadhrim, keep pace!"

The Galadhrim automatically broke into a run following the back of their Commander as he sped through the forest of Lothlorien. Usually Elves paced themselves at a leisurely rate, slowly taking in nature, enjoying its beauty and complexities, but also its simplicity and careful balance. The Galadhrim weren't afforded such luxury at the moment as their focus went entirely on gaining the border and wondering what they would find when they obtained it.

Large trunks covered with shiny silver bark flashed by the Elven eyes. The ancient trees glistened with what seemed like a coat of diamonds, glittering and twinkling to all that gazed upon them. High above was a thick canopy of overlapping golden leaves. The sun shone down lovingly on the mallorn leaves, bathing them in warmth and light that made them shine even brighter, the very veins of the leaves highlighted, making the delicate canopy seem to breath with the gust of wind and pulse with life.

As Haldir raced through the forest that had been his home for his entire life, he remembered the trees that arched high above, protecting the Elves below with their golden-leafed shields, when they were but saplings. Now they rose in defense of the fair beings that protected them just as fiercely.

Haldir remembered as an elfling, he would climb the tallest mallorn, seeking the horizon and wondering with child-like innocence if the magnificent trees held up the heavens on their broad, proud limbed shoulders. Sometimes, he even wondered if there was anyone in the star-strewn sky that looked down upon him. As saplings flew past the March Warden's vision, a sense of sadness settled in his heart, knowing one day he would leave these shores and his beloved forest behind to sail west. His chest tightened thinking of what Men would do to the wood that has sheltered Elves for Ages, and how it to be the utmost act of betrayal for their departure and allow the beautiful trees to succumb and be butchered by mortals.

Haldir's face drew in anger at these thoughts. He heard the light footfalls of his command behind him and was pulled from his reverie of dark thoughts. He was thankful for their hushed swiftness. Most beings in large groups make so much noise that they give away their positions, especially when they make haste. Haldir's face brightened knowing that only Elves possessed the nature to be completely silent and leave no trace of their passing. A cord of arrogance ran through him at the thought that those that he commanded were of such stealth because of all the hard work and overly practiced routines he had demanded of them.

Haldir led his warriors tirelessly, his pace fast and never breaking all through the day. The Galadhrim kept the pace up easily, having each been through rigorous training to gain their current ranks.

The afternoon passed by in a blur as the Elven soldiers followed their leader. Evening descended quickly; the sun disappeared behind thick bluish gray clouds, casting the earth below into shadow. Several hours later, the Galadhrim approached the borders of their wood. As the warriors neared the guardian platforms high in the mallorn near the tree line, the sounds of battle assaulted their ears. Haldir's hands rose, signaling to the Galadhrim their course of action. Each withdrew their weapon of choice, some drew their bows and arrows, others pulled their swords and long knives from their sheaves. On Haldir's command everyone charged into the fray. Those with their bows raised leapt easily up on the branches of the trees, scaling them with ease and gaining the upper position.

Haldir lead the charge on the ground, his sword angled defensively in front of him as he passed the trees and joined the battle on the surrounding plain. To his great relief, he saw some elves still standing, fighting with the disgusting beasts that seemed to be pouring out of nowhere. It suddenly struck him how few there were still standing, the rest of their numbers unseen to the March Warden.

Orc bodies littered the ground, their black blood oozing over the earth and staining its green tinge with evil. A vile wave of the creatures poured out over the plain, crushing the green grass beneath their numerous feet and snarling viciously as they engaged the new arrivals.

Jumping into the campaign, Haldir swung wide, decapitating a snarling orc, and then using the momentum to impale another in the chest. It fell with a startled cry and did not move again.

Arrows whistled through the air, burying themselves perfectly in orc bodies, dropping them with strangled cries. White tipped shafts volleyed down one after another, sometimes barely missing an Elf, but the projectiles were aimed true, their releasers well skilled. Orcs growled in their language, foul and cruel to the ears as they advanced into the fray, determined to slaughter as many elves as they could. Several groaned in pain as white shafts landed into their bodies, the momentum of their advancement sending them skidding into the ground, further impaling the bolts into their bodies.

Rúmil and Orophin fought side by side, the ground at their feet quickly piling with the twisted remains of orcs as they sliced and parried, thrust and slashed with vicious growls of their own. Their swords were a blur of bluish-white, arching, soaring; protectively deflecting any attempt made by the creatures of evil.

Haldir ducked to avoid and orc blade, then collided with the beast in the midsection, knocking it back, and with a quick flick of his wrist and spin, had the orc down on the ground, its blood pooling at his feet. Another Orc roared in anger, Haldir jumped aside barely in time and parried its vicious blows, blocking every swing intended on taking his head. Exerting a lot of strength into his stroke, Haldir forced the orc to stagger slightly. Using the lapse in concentration, he dropped to one knee and thrust his blade upwards, easily splitting the orc from belly to throat. Blood smattered his face and clothes as the orc dropped, a guttural cry lost in his exposed throat.

With a quick glance, Haldir registered his brothers' positions and ran towards them as Orcs spewed forth over the hill in an angry wave of cruelty and hatred. Their foul stench made the elves flinch as the odor assailed them and turned their stomachs. Haldir yelled the order to engage the new orcs joining the battle and soon heard the familiar whoosh of projectiles sailing through the air. White feathered arrows imbedded themselves deeply into the grotesque forms and rose up from still bodies as if flagging them.

Haldir swung wide, splitting three orcs across the back and severing their spines. They fell limp on the ground, snarling and cursing in their rough language. His blade sang through the air, its pitch only heightened by the black blood staining its length. Another swing, shorter and more angled, sliced off the arm that was raised to deliver a lethal blow to Orophin, who had momentarily lost his balance over a fallen Orc and let his guard down. The creature howled in pain and turned to Haldir, who gave it a smirk and buried his long blade deep in the chest of the beast.

The ethereal singing of bows slowed into a lowly, quavering pitch, as the Orcs became fewer and fewer on the battlefield.

The plain that once rumbled with orc steps now fell eerily silent, beleaguered with still bodies and bathing the ground in thick, putrid blood. A distant echo of weapons still clung to the air and rang in the Elven ears.

The Elves that took to their trees dropped soundlessly to the ground, walking slowly through the carnage, kneeling beside felled brethren and checked them for signs of life.

Calls of, "He lives!" "He is alive, but injured," echoed around the clearing.

Haldir pointed to several of the Galadhrim that had accompanied him and ordered, "See to it that the orcs are burned."

The ones appointed nodded and set about their tasks of piling bodies. Haldir and the remaining warriors searched for the injured, careful of their wounds and respectfully placing the dead in the hollow of a mallorn tree to be returned to Caras Galadhon to be properly attended.

The injured Elves were easily taken to the talan high above to be cared for and protected. Ropes that blended perfectly into the bark of the mallorn trees eased the elves into their boughs. Orophin assisted a healer, Malkendel, with the wounded, bustling around with the healer and scurrying from patient to patient.

When all injured were up on the safety of the guard talan, Haldir sought out the leader of the regiment.

Calgolodh was watching the other Elves below, piling orc bodies and setting them ablaze. He was a thousand years Haldir's junior, though had a shock of snow-white hair and crystal blue eyes that appeared almost transparent. He was tall and noble in stature, though at the moment his posture was slumped in weariness and fatigue. Dark orc blood smeared his face, hair, and body, mixing with the deep red of the Elven blood from his comrades.

Haldir approached Calgolodh and asked gently, "What happened?"

Calgolodh turned his face to his commander, his eyes the color of fog in winter, "We were attacked as morning neared. Many were injured; two were taken by the orcs. I led several after our kin, but we were outnumbered. We retreated back to bring others for aid, but some of the orcs had followed and attacked once again."

"How many were there?" Haldir asked, bile rising in his throat and stinging.

"One hundred by my count," Calgolodh sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

"One hundred?" Haldir breathed incredulously. Orcs usually traveled in packs of no more than twenty and the odd count left a cold dread settled in the Warden's mind.

"Many are injured, some from the previous encounter, though they took up arms again during the second attack. They fought gallantly, Commander," Colagolodh swelled up with pride at the account of the Elves valor.

Haldir nodded solemnly, his eyes lowered to the place where Elven bodies were laid awaiting their final trip home for burial.

"How many did we lose?"

Calgolodh's face frosted over with anguish, "Two were killed in the first attack. Four more fell before you arrived."

Haldir felt his heart seize up in his chest, making the next question difficult to speak, "Who were the two taken?"

"Wethíar and Iavasriel," Calgolodh looked to Haldir, tears pooling his eyes, "Oradhir was with the rescue party. He was killed when we retreated back and was attacked again."

Haldir closed his eyes, feeling his heart stop completely in his chest at the news. Iavasriel was one of sixteen females on the Galadhrim and also happened to be wedded to one of his greatest friends, Oradhir. The couple was to celebrate their three thousand anniversary of their bonding next month. Haldir knew their love was strong and feared what was to become of Iavasriel when she found out her love had been killed.

Normally bond-mates were not permitted to be on duty at the same time, and definitely not on the same post. However, the March Warden learned a long time ago, when he first assumed command that the two couldn't and wouldn't be separated. They were each others' strongest support and worked as a seamless unit, one blending into the other with perfect timing and harmony. Their skills were unmatched; no other pair could beat them. Haldir sighed sadly at the thought of their untimely demise, and with the whole of Lothlorien looking forward to the festivities that were planned in honor of the occasion. In his heart, Haldir knew Iavasriel would follow her love to the Halls of Mandos, slipping away to grief over the death of her other half.

Orophin came to stand by Haldir's side, his own face speckled with black and red blood, "Thirteen are injured but will live. Two hover close to death."

Haldir turned to regard his younger brother, his face grim through the orc blood smearing his fair complexion, "Oradhir was killed. Iavasriel was taken by the Orcs."

Orophin flinched as if slapped, blinking furiously, shaking his head disbelievingly, "How could this be? They are to celebrate their third millennia together."

Haldir placed his arm around Orophin's shoulders and felt his young sibling tremble. Orophin had grown up with Iarasriel, he being a mere decade older than she. In some ways he had appointed himself her big brother. When she had wed Oradhir, Orophin beamed with pride and spent the next several years sulking about, missing his kid sister hanging around.

Orophin slowly dropped to his knees, his eyes unfocused and watery. Haldir followed his grieving brother to the floor of the talan and kept a reassuring arm tightly around him. Rúmil saw his brothers' collapse and hurried over to them, kneeling before them two and placing his hands on their shoulders. He felt Orophin trembling and looked worriedly to Haldir.

"What is wrong?"

"Iavasriel was taken," Orophin's voice was laced with heartache as his body shuttered involuntarily, "Oradhir fell to the orcs. He is dead."

Rúmil breathed a heavy sigh, his eyes closing, and speaking an ancient Elvish lament over the ones lost.

Orophin sat on the talan motionless, tears falling down his fair face, his breath shallow.

"Fear not," Haldir's voice was barely a whisper but his brothers caught every word, "We will go after them. They will not be lost to us."

Orophin nodded, not daring to trust his voice.

"What are you orders, Commander?" Calgolodh asked with a voice full of forced confidence.

Haldir rose from Orophin's side, "We go after our kin. I will take those able to journey with me to search; the rest will remain here and defend our borders if there is another attack."

Calgolodh nodded and left to sort through the ranks still able to fight. Some others had watched the three brothers from afar and pretended to be busy when Calgolodh approached them, speaking roughly at their leisurely activities.

"We will make them pay. Of that I promise you brother," Rúmil said, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Orophin still knelt on the talan with Rúmil and favored him with an appreciative smile. His tears were beginning to dry on his cheeks, though his eyes still sparkled in sadness.

"Aye, they shall," Haldir said. "Orophin, keep the injured comfortable until they can be taken back to Caras Galadhon. Send healers to all borders and tell Ivaswaetar to rotate healers with the guards. Rúmil, remain here with your command. Keep them alert and direct them well."

"Nay," Orophin shook his head, rising to his feet. "We will not leave your side Haldir."

Rúmil mirrored Orophin's sentiments and actions, "We will not allow you to go without us."

"My orders are to be carried out…" Haldir said sternly.

"Not if we decide we do not wish to follow them," Orophin said roughly with a slight smile.

Haldir huffed, "Am I not older than the both of you AND Commander of the Lothlorien army?"

Rúmil and Orophin looked at each other as if weighing what Haldir said, and frowned, doubtful of the truth. Finally they turned back to Haldir, who was staring vehemently at the two with his hands on his hips.

Rúmil grinned his lopsided smiled and said to Haldir, "That you are. Alas, you forget one important thing."

"And that is?" Haldir snarled at the two.

"We outnumber you, two to one," Rúmil rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Orophin frowned at Rúmil and said sternly, "You forget that you are our brother." His gaze returned to Haldir, "We will not lose you to whatever evil threatens us."

Haldir creased his brow, studying his brothers, "I am well trained. You know I can protect myself as I protect all those that reside in Lorien."

Rúmil's humor disappeared and was replaced by dark concern, "As were Iavasriel and Wethíar, and those that have fallen."

Haldir couldn't argue with his brother's reasoning, though he hated to admit it. He understood perfectly what Rúmil was trying to remind him of, but the thought that Rúmil had done so irritated him.

"Where you go, we go, Brother," Orophin said defiantly.

Haldir glanced from one to the other, "And if I make it a direct order for you to remain?"

"Then we will wait until you are gone and follow you anyway," Rúmil smiled sweetly. "If we are not needed and you do indeed return with our kin, then you may see to a punishment."

"Like we would obey that as well," Orophin mumbled under his breath so only Rúmil could hear him as Haldir turned away.

Haldir sighed dramatically, knowing that in his thousands of years, he had never won an argument against the pair when they doubled teamed against him.

"Very well," a sudden thought occurred to the March Warden and he grinned slyly at the two, "And if you are right and protect me and the rest from the evil?"

Rúmil pretended to think about it, then his face broke out into a smile, "We do it all the time, what would be different?"

Orophin scoffed and said, "It is no easy task, but the benefits are worth it."

"Such as?" Haldir asked, though dreaded what the answer would be.

"That there is a lengthy respite and you have to tell others about our protectiveness and devotion to our irritating, overbearing, always-in-trouble older brother."

Haldir scoffed dismissively and stormed over to Calgolodh to pick out the elves to accompany him and his brothers in search for their lost kin.

Rúmil leaned over to Orophin and whispered when he knew Haldir was out of earshot, "I hope he tells all the she-elves. They love a hero!"

Orophin grinned good-naturedly, his grief abated for the time, though still weighing on his heart and mind. Rúmil gave him a reassuring nod and led the way over to Haldir and Colgolodh. Haldir acknowledged the two dismissively, and continued on with his conversation with Calgolodh.

"They travel east," Calgolodh said, his voice tainted with sorrow as he remembered the ill attempt that met with disaster.

Haldir had listened to his subordinate's tale, detailing the journey that was relayed, and planning the future rescue mission for their lost kindred. Distractedly, the Warden's eyes roamed over the injured that lined the flet, their faces contorted in pain, pale and silvery among the gold of the trees. The two that hovered near death were flanked by their comrades, speaking quietly to them. Haldir clenched his hands into fists, vowing that the foul orcs would pay for their incursion into the hallowed wood. His heart tightened in his chest, thinking of the cruelty the kidnapped were being subjected to.

Haldir ground his teeth as he turned towards the Elves that had returned to the flet after seeing to the bodies of the orcs, "Prepare yourselves!"

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AN: I take NO responsibility for the mistakes that FF.net makes. I've noticed a couple of mix-ups in the story and I tried to fix them. Please bear with me and let me know what ya think. THANKS!

PJ