The Balrog Slayer Rides Again
Chapter 11
Glorfindel traveled warily through the woods, following the tracks as best he could. He led Asfaloth with the reigns, urging him to be silent.
Ever since he had woken, Glorfindel had a sense of foreboding, and the impression lingered all morning. Later, Glorfindel found his worries were well placed when he found that a small orc band was a few miles away, too close for comfort.
Occasionally, Glorfindel would leave the trail to scout around, and found that the party was beginning to turn toward him, and they would be upon him in a mere matter of hours, if this course held true.
Glorfindel could hardly leave the trail to avoid them, for, if he did, the path would surely be lost to him, and they could very well trample over any remaining signs.
He sighed, as the orcs were close now, and in a very short while they would intercept him. Glorfindel resisted the urge to curse, knowing it would not help his current situation.
He went over his options for what seemed like the thousandth time. Glorfindel could hardly risk challenging them by himself, but if he lost the trail, he might waste another week searching for them, and Glorfindel did not want to guess at what could possibly happen in even that short amount of time.
Glorfindel heard a rustling sound, and in a split second he found a black arrow skimming his shoulder and sticking into the tree behind him.
A little irritated with himself, for he had been to distracted to see the attack coming, he drew his blade, and suddenly found himself face-to-face with a hideous orc. Behind him there were two others, apparently scouts.
A blow was aimed for his head, but Glorfindel parried the attack and found himself a little too close to the orc. Whirling around, he dispatched his head, a leering grin remaining on the hideous face.
The other two advanced slowly, the first letting out a call.
Glorfindel cursed. He really wasn't in the mood for this. The first orc, rather stout, was carrying a mace, and the second was taller. He seemed to have a limp, but it didn't seem to impede his advance on Glorfindel.
Impatiently, Glorfindel rolled his eyes and ran to attack them. Given no warning, the first was killed by a quick blow to the heart.
The other orc proved to be more of a challenge. Caught off guard, Glorfindel suddenly had to drop to avoid a swinging blow from his scimitar. The wicked blade passed barely an inch above Glorfindel's head.
Glorfindel, apparently a perfect image of calm, was growing frustrated with all these diversions. Glorfindel drew upon the agility granted to him and his race by the Valar, and the orc was slain within a matter of seconds.
He noted their quivers were full, and grabbed a handful of arrows in case of emergencies. With contempt, he saw that they were poorly made, but his arrows were running low, and he had little time to craft his own out in the wild.
Whispering a quick command in elvish, Glorfindel was off, and Asfaloth was safe among the trees.
Quickly, so that no mortal eye could follow, Glorfindel went from tree to tree, planning the inevitable attack. There were few options, so his simple plan was formulated in a few seconds. Speed was of the essence, and Glorfindel assumed the call that the orc had let out was a signal to the rest of the band.
Glorfindel had little trouble finding the orc band. They had no care for stealth, and an even smaller care for the forest, so the noise alone could have guided the most inept of mortals. He smirked. This was their downfall.
He heard them arguing amongst themselves, and suddenly called a halt. Glorfindel's smirk disappeared as he realized that his attack would not be nearly as effective as before.
Below him, the argument was turning into a furious argument between two apparent leaders. He heard several curses spat out every few seconds, and, without any warning, the first orc slew the other, and several weak outcries were heard among the troop. The new leader turned around angrily, and some of the protesters quieted down. But another protest was soon brought up, and angry shouts were heard.
Safely hidden in the tree, an idea suddenly came to Glorfindel's mind. Eyes suddenly gleaming, Glorfindel's plan changed.
He grabbed one of the orc arrows he had taken from the orcs, and fitted it to his bow. Slowly, he watched the heated debate, the petty disagreement firing up into a violent disagreement. Orcs were such ill-tempered creatures.
Narrowing his eyes, he watched for the perfect moment.
He saw the leader turn to another orc, glaring and issuing a gruff command.
There. Just one more second and…
Now!
He fired the arrow and instantly killed the leader. Confusion reigned throughout the camp as they recognized the orc arrow.
He hoped this would work. It appeared to be going just as planned…
Aha! He saw an orc draw his sword on another, and a vicious skirmish broke out. He saw several fall, and was somewhat pleased by the havoc he had wreaked.
Suddenly, to Glorfindel's dismay, an orc, with mottled green-black skin, was calming the group down. Already, nine were slain, and this orc, with limited but progressive success, was trying to stop the violence.
Glorfindel knew he had to act fast. If he didn't shoot now, when confusion still blinded them, he would certainly be found out.
He grabbed another black arrow, and smoothly drew his bow and fired. He shot a stout and burly looking orc, who gurgled and fell to the ground.
Green-Skin growled ferociously as the group suddenly broke the tense silence that had hung in the air. The battled each other, looking for the offender, sure it was one of their own.
Glorfindel hoped they wouldn't have time to figure out that there were few on the ground who could fire arrows at such a precise angle.
Deciding it would probably be best if he could leave for the moment, he leapt to another tree, and from there climbed onto another tree, where he silently climbed down, and sprinted to a safe enough distance, and found a small stream. He could still hear them, but he felt safe knowing they were busy with troubles of their own.
He closed his eyes and listened to the soft murmur of the stream. And he waited.
After ten minutes of fearsome fighting, Glorfindel heard the clamor quiet down a bit. Cautiously, he made his way back to where the fighting began. He hid behind the dense foliage of a bush.
He heard two voices. They were arguing, but from what Glorfindel could hear they were not about to come to blows.
So they have learned their lesson.
A dark grin lit Glorfindel's face. Maybe these two were more intelligent than others. Such a shame to end theses intelligent life-forms' existence.
He fired the arrows in the space of time it would take to blink, and the two fell to the ground.
There was little use in trying to hide the battle, as the carcasses of perhaps forty orcs littered the ground.
With a small shake of his head, he began to search for the barely recognizable imprints of a pony's hoof. He walked a few meters away from the battle, going in the direction he had been following.
Scanning the ground with sharp eyes, he walked around the area, and without too much trouble, he found something. Not quite what he was looking for, but it was certainly worth following.
He saw the imprint of a large foot, walking in the direction of the large tree on Glorfindel's left. Following the footsteps, he found a small athelas plant, which had been shorn of a few precious leaves. The severed stem was hardly wilted.
He whistled for Asfaloth. The faithful horse came trotting up with a snort.
Glorfindel grinned triumphantly with a dangerous glint in his eye.
He was catching up.
A/N: Whew…Sorry for the long delay. My inspiration got tired. When I finished For What Hope is Worth, I got more inspiration for this, so I began to work on it. And now, voila! Chapter 11. I hope you enjoyed the much-requested-after action! And, I tried to make it longer to make up for the long delay.
As I said on my bio, chapter 12 will be where the curtains close.
Replies to reviews:
gives fried okra – erm, chocolate cake to reviewers
Ellfine: Your instincts have served you right. Lol! Glorfindel could never stay out of trouble.
Seeing-spots: Ah, the power of chocolate pudding! I hope cake works just as well… Lol! I'm glad you liked the chapter. As always, support is appreciated! And thanks for reviewing For What Hope is Worth. Reviews make my day. grins
Nolitari: Ye landlubber! No pirate stock have ye anywhere in that bone! Ha! Need a backbone as well, ye scallywag! It's a crying shame I can't still be callin' ye that. But I must have some trace of kindness in the piratey heart o' mine! Aye…Can I be havin' that pumpkin pie o' yours now, lassy?
As always, reviews are wonderfully appreciated, so please review! Mind you, it might speed up the update.