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Faroth

"Simbel… Are you suuuuure that this is the right way?"

"Of course! I've roamed these hills for so long that I can tell one hill from the other, which I'm sure is more than any other pony in Rohan can know! Why do you question me?"

"Well… Isn't that the same puddle where we stopped to drink at this morning?"

Faroth watched Simbel do a double-take as she studied the puddle that they were walking past. It was definitely the same puddle, not only because Faroth could recognize its distinct shape (a crescent moon) but he could also see the paw and hoof prints that surrounded it. Simbel trotted up to the prints in the mud to make a closer inspection.

"Nay! It's not like we're the only ones wandering through these parts… Perhaps a man riding a pony with his dog stopped here. That's the only clear assumption."

"If you say so," Faroth said; but in truth, he knew that the pony had fibbed. The paw and hoof prints were as clear as day, and when Simbel turned around to continue walking, there was a nervous expression on her face that disappeared as soon as she saw him staring at her.

"Don't give me that look!" Simbel snapped, "I know exactly what I'm doing!" Holding her head up higher, she trotted off ahead, and Faroth had no choice but to follow. Even if she was lying, Faroth was still too terrified to confront her; he could only imagine her wrath if he did. Plus, even if Simbel had grey memory in a few places, Faroth was still hopeful that she knew more about the land than he did. Earlier in the morning, they had a conversation that proved it. They had just been walking away from Simbel's burned up village when he asked Simbel about the house where Faroth last saw Gorluk, and she began her story:

"My old master was farmer. I was born next to his barley fields, one of the largest in all the land, so I grew up hauling it by the wagon full to towns all across Rohan."

For a moment her eyes seemed to grow brighter as she remembered. "I loved every moment of it. I got to go on journeys to every town, every town surrounded by seas of tall grass that seemed to make the hills feel more alive, and my master would always walk beside me and whistle a tune. He was a really simple man, that one, but he would always treat me like I was a simple human being too. He never whipped me or anything."

Her eyes suddenly turned cloudy again. "That's how it was for a very long time. But then, it all changed when we were traveling up north in the middle of a rainstorm. It came pretty unexpectedly because we had been traveling for a few hours in nice weather, but once it did, my master was scrambling through the fields to find some shelter. No one likes to buy wet, moldy barley, ya know."

She was quiet for a few moments, but when she spoke again, there was a faint shakiness in her voice. "Then my master found that wooden house, at least most of it. There was a man there, he was building it, all by himself, and seemed to be cursing the rain as he did so. He seemed to be grumbling as he hewed away at a tree trunk with an ax. Even from a far distance I could see that the man looked pretty intimidating, not just because his clothing only consisted of wolf fur," she glanced at Faroth to see the look of fear on his face before she continued, "but he had a giant sword at his side. I knew right then that he was one of the wild men. But of course, my master was too frantic about the rain to notice a thing about him, so he ran ahead of me, straight towards that barbaric man to ask for directions!"

Once again she stopped speaking, but this time it was to let out an amused snort. "I'll say again that my master was simple, so it made him a bit short witted, if you get my meaning. That made him unafraid of anyone."

After a long pause, Faroth spoke up. "So… what happened?"

Simbel sighed. "He chopped his head off."

"WHAT!?"

"You heard me. He chopped his head off."

Faroth stopped walking as his eyes widened. "But how? Why? People don't do that randomly!"

"I used to think that too. But…." Simbel shrugged, "perhaps he was a madman."

Faroth hesitated to ask, but he did anyway. "What happened to you?"

Simbel smirked. "Well, after I say my master's head fly through the air and land a few yards away from me, I panicked. I tried to run, but I was still tied to the wagon. The wagon had gotten so heavy from the rain that it just sank into the mud, so I was trapped; when that wild man came at me with his ax, I screamed so loud that it echoed through the hills like thunder. But, the man swung again, and I was free."

"He cut the ropes?" Faroth asked.

Simbel nodded. "Don't ask me why! I bolted as soon as I realized he had cut me lose, so I made my way to the nearest town. And… the rest is history."

As they continued to walk throughout the morning, Faroth looked at this frightening pony in wonder. She seemed awfully calm after explaining the most terrifying ordeal in her life; Faroth remembered that night in the boat with Gorluk, when he revealed to his best friend his painful past, and realized how much better he felt when doing so. Simbel probably never had the chance to tell her story until now.

But suddenly, Faroth sneezed.

"FIRE!" Faroth gasped.

Simbel lifted her head up and nearly chuckled. "I don't see no fire. Just nothing but grass and hills!"

"No no no, you don't understand…." Faroth started, but decided that there was no time to explain. "There's a fire nearby. It may just be a small cooking fire but…" he stopped again to sneeze louder, "It might be able to tell us something. Maybe there's someone who can help us with directions."

"We don't need any directions!" Simbel snapped. "I keep trying to tell you, I know this land like the back of my hoof! And don't you remember the story I told you…?" Her voice trailed off as she saw Faroth begin to sprint away.

"Young'uns," she muttered as she slowly trotted after him.

Meanwhile…

Gorluk stirred the pot of stew that boiled over the cooking fire as Broom sat by while sharpening a small knife. "I gotta say, I didn't think that the elvish stuff would work that fast," Broom said as he nodded towards Galadriel's healing potion that stood next to Gorluk's belongings, "but maybe I should stop by her woods the next time I get stabbed in the chest!"

Gorluk let out a nervous laugh. "Maybe, but they don't take kindly to… strangers." He could never forget the arrow that shot out of the dark when he got too close to the border.

Broom smirked. "I guess so. A lady that powerful would want to keep herself as shut off from the rest of the world as possible."

Gorluk looked away from the stew. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" Broom set his knife to the side and tried to think. "I guess you can think of it like this: what if you were so different people didn't know how to treat you? Like, not just in terms of power. Like maybe, you just had a quality that no one could understand, that could be dangerous to some. I think that people would want to make a choice: to fear you or to love you, to respect you or despise you, to welcome you or… unwelcome you."

Broom blinked for a moment and seemed to be deep in thought. But once he came back, he picked up his knife and laughed.

"Don't listen to me Orc, I'm just an old man who confuses himself."

Gorluk was quiet and tried to think of what Broom meant. After Broom had decided to give him the healing potion, his mind was still full of questions about this man. Why was he alone? Why would he want to help him? And how on earth did he manage to build a wooden hut when the nearest tree was at least hundreds of leagues away?

He decided to ask one of those questions. "Why are you helping me?"

Broom shrugged as he stared at his knife. "I was bored."

He never gives clear answers, Gorluk thought. "Well sure, but… why a terrifying orc like me?"

Broom busted out laughing. "You? A terrifying orc? I've fought and killed hundreds of Orcs twice your size!"

Gorluk's eyes widened. "Really?"

Broom immediately stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes. "Does that offend you?"

"N-no, not at all!" Gorluk stammered. "I've been labeled a rebel by Saruman, if you remember me telling you earlier. Even before that I've never been welcomed by my own kind."

That seemed to make Broom relax, so he got up and picked up his cape that hung by the door. Gorluk noticed for the first time that it was entirely made of wolf fur, and remembered how much it had bothered Faroth to see Boromir's cape just lined with the pelt of his people.

Gorluk suddenly cringed to be reminded that he was sitting here next to a warm fire while Faroth was out there somewhere, without him. He still couldn't understand why Broom forbade him to go out when these 'Dunlendings' were out there, but it seemed to be apparent when Broom mentioned them that he knew more about them than he was letting on. But either case, Gorluk bolted straight up when he saw Broom walking out the door. "Where are you going?"

Broom stopped and shrugged. "Out for a walk."

"Can I come too?" Gorluk pleaded, "I need to find any sort of signs of my friend."

"Well…" Broom seemed hesitant for a moment, but looked away so Gorluk couldn't see. "I guess you could join me. But we can't be around for too long."

Gorluk dashed for his cape and sword, and was at the door within ten seconds. "Let's go!"

Broom just sighed and didn't seem very enthusiastic. "Let's."

As Gorluk stepped outside, he saw that the sun was beginning to set and a cool breeze was flowing by from the north, giving him goose bumps as he wrapped his cape around himself. Though the days were still cold, Gorluk was ever hopeful; his favorite time of year was coming closer and closer: Spring. Full of flowers, and birds singing, and warm breezes, and more flowers….

"Ah, Gorluk? Ya here?"

Broom waved a hand in front of Gorluk's face, snapping him out of his trance. Gorluk shook his head and sighed. "Sorry, I'm just tired of this nasty weather."

Broom snorted. "You sure are an odd one. I thought that Orcs were used to this sort of thing."

"I guess we are," Gorluk said, "but I like sunshine and warm weather."

They began walking in silence, but not before Gorluk noticed something that stained the grass. He turned pale when he realized what it was: his blood from the night before.

As they walked, Broom leading while Gorluk was following less than three feet behind, the orc put his memories of scouting to the test as he scanned the ground for any signs of Faroth. But, to his dismay, the ground was covered with hundreds of foot prints that belonged to the barbaric men that they had tried to run from. Gorluk clenched his teeth; though it was easier to find, he hoped that he wasn't here to look for signs of his best friend's dead body. I'm sure that won't be, he could run faster than that Balrog… he thought hopefully.

They had hardily walked a few strides away from the hut when Broom stopped. Kneeling to the ground, he picked up something and held it up to the setting sun to examine it. Gorluk walked up to his side to get a closer look, but Broom quickly shoved it into his shirt pocket.

The tall man looked down at Gorluk. In a barely audible whisper he said "you need to leave now. Come back to my place to get your things, and I'll get you some food for your journey, but you need to be out of this area before the sun completely sets."

There was a flash of anxiousness in his eyes as Broom looked up and realized that the sun was almost disappearing in the hills. "There isn't much time left," Broom muttered as he grabbed Gorluk's arm, "Run!"

Gorluk was both confused and terrified as Broom started dragging him through the hills, but all he could do was watch anxiously as the sun began to fade and the night seeped around them.

Broom stopped to breathe as soon as the hut was in sight. "He might not be here yet. Just walk as quietly as you can and stay RIGHT behind me."

Who is he talking about? Gorluk thought with fear. As they crept towards the hut, Gorluk's heart began to throb out of his chest so hard that he dreaded whoever could be inside the hut would hear.

As they finally reached the door, Broom kicked it open and drew out a large knife.

"Ah, Brother!" a deep voice bellowed from inside, "I see you got me message!"

Meanwhile…

"We're ACHOO! getting closer ACHOO! to the fire Simbel! I ACHOO! can just feel it! ACHOO!"

"I'm sure we are Faroth, but can you for pity's sake slow down? If you keep me running like this my joints will snap in two!"

Faroth didn't exactly know what joints were, but he stopped running long enough for the old grey pony to catch up. He could feel the blood pumping through his veins with both fear and excitement as he wondered through the possibility that Gorluk could be at that fire. As Simbel finally trotted next to him, they continued on at a brisk (but much slower) pace, Faroth keeping his nose in the air and tracking down the fire as Simbel quietly kept up and flinched every time he made a loud sneeze.

Finally, as Faroth's nose tickled more and more with the scent of campfire, he could sense that it all came from beyond the large hill that stood before them. Faroth placed a paw over his nostrils to keep them closed so his sneezing could stop, and he silently stopped walking.

Simbel heaved a sigh of relief when she realized he had stopped, and hung her head to the ground as she tried to catch her breath.

"So… how far now?" she huffed.

"Shhhhh! The fire should be right behind that hill!" Faroth whispered.

Simbel shot her head up like she wanted to say some nasty words for being shushed by a youngster, but she decided against it and knelt to the ground to munch on the grass.

After a moment in thought, Faroth made a signal for Simbel to stay where she was, and began to climb up the hill. Simbel did not object.

Faroth found that it was a challenge to walk with three legs, but he knew that if he removed his paw from his nose and sneezed, it would blow away his cover for sure. He already knew that these lands were full of dangerous men and Orcs, but he hoped with all his might that once he made it to the top of the hill, he would see Gorluk warming his hands over a small campfire.

When he made it to the top and slowly lifted his head up to peer at what lay beyond, his hopes were instantly shattered; Gorluk wasn't there. Instead, all he could see were hundreds upon hundreds of tents stretched out as far as he could see in the darkness, and at the center were half a dozen cooking fires. He was so crushed that he slammed his paws to the ground and swore, before realizing what was about to happen.

"ACHOO! ACHOO! ACHOOOOO!"

He couldn't stop. Once he started sneezing, it became a frenzy because his body was contorting from the sneezes so hard that he couldn't lift up a paw to make them stop.

Almost immediately he could see Simbel at his side. She was laughing (because it is rather comical to see a Warg in a fetal position on the ground because he can't control sneezing), but he glanced down the hill to see, to his horror, that men were starting to peer out of their tents to see what the commotion was.

A few brave men detected the noise and ran towards it, and gave mighty shouts when they saw the Warg. Despite his small size, Faroth knew that spotting any Warg near a campsite was a bad sign, for the rest of the pack was never far off.

The men knew this too. Within moments many were running down the hill straight towards the poor, defenseless, sneezing Warg, but Simbel stood in the way between Faroth and the men with a strange gleam in her eyes; she looked ready to fight.

"Oh for heaven's sake, not YOU again!"

Faroth could sense someone approaching, and before long he could feel a strong hand grab him by his golden collar and lift him up. Very bluntly, a rag was shoved up both of his nostrils, and his sneezing stopped. Faroth slowly looked up and became relieved and terrified at the same time.

"Gandalf…" He laughed sheepishly, "this is a bit of a surprise."

The looks on the men's faces when the Warg spoke to the wizard was a comical thing to see. Many of their jaws dropped and hanged for a very long time, while others took a step back out of fear and wonder. Gandalf, however, looked both unsurprised and calm.

"I see that you have found the mightiest army in all of Rohan" Gandalf chuckled. "However, I do not think that this is your place at the moment since you've brought the entire camp in a fright." He gestured vaguely to many of the men that were gathering around to watch the strangest spectacle they had ever seen in their lives.

Faroth had his mouth open like a fish because he couldn't breathe through the rags, but also because he realized that he had just spoken in front of an army of men. Wargs have always been discouraged to speak to men and elves for numerous reasons, and Faroth felt as though he had accidentally broken something sacred. With Boromir, it felt ok to talk to him as he lay dying, and with Galadriel, she seemed like an Elf he could trust; but with a giant mob of men who still gripped weapons in their hands, he had no idea what could possibly happen. But through his fears, reality snapped back into place.

"I've actually been looking for Gorluk," Faroth said to the wizard. "We were separated the night before when there were hundreds of men that came running through the hills to cause havoc, and I've been looking for him since. Have you seen him?"

He couldn't hide the desperation in his voice. Gandalf's face softened, and he said "No, I haven't seen him, but I can assure you that he is in safe hands."

Faroth's eyes widened. "How do you know?"

Gandalf lifted his head and closed his eyes. "I can sense his spirit nearby… he seems to be with someone, someone who is…"

Gandalf paused and opened his eyes. Faroth could have sworn that a dark expression began to spread through his face, but their thoughts were interrupted when a man stepped forward from the crowd and approached them.

"Did you just say hundreds of men?" he asked. There wasn't much that set this man apart from the rest that surrounded them in terms of appearance, but Faroth sensed that he carried high authority when he stood next to Gandalf and looked into Faroth's eyes intently without fear.

"y..yes…" he stammered.

Every man in the crowd began to murmur, and even the man that stood before him began to look worried. "We need to talk."

Gandalf finally set Faroth down, and doing so he noticed Simbel for the first time. "You appear to be far from home, old dear," he said kindly as he patted her head, "what on earth are you doing with this warg?"

"It's a long story and I hate repeating myself," Simbel snapped. "All I can say is that I've been wondering the hills all day with this youngster trying to find his friend, and I am in desperate need for some rest."

Gandalf chuckled. "That, we can definitely do for you." He made a gesture towards the crowd until two men came forward. "Give this Pony a quiet place to rest," he instructed, "and if she asks for anything at all, it would be wise to do as she wishes." The two men hesitated as they looked down at the old pony, never hearing one speak out loud before, but they silently led her away as the rest of the crowd looked on with awe.

"As for the rest of you," Gandalf shouted to the crowd, "I think that it would be wise to go back to sleep. I believe we will all see much stranger things before this war is over for good."

The men began to slowly retreat towards their tents, all of them with a slight disappointment that the show was over, leaving Gandalf, Faroth, and the man alone.

"Well Faroth," Gandalf sighed, "It looks like you have no choice but to be involved." He gestured towards the man. "This is Lord Erkenbrand of the westfold of Rohan, and perhaps my greatest ally in these parts."

Erkenbrand stepped forward and bowed to Faroth. "And any other ally of Gandalf is an ally of mine. But tell me," he said anxiously, "about everything you saw that night you encountered those men."

Gorluk

"It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

Gorluk was hiding behind Broom as they both stood in the doorway, but he could hear that someone who sounded very similar to Broom was inside. Listening carefully, he heard more shuffling, and estimated that there were more people in the hut, at least five. He dared not move, for he knew that no one in the room had noticed him yet, and continued to listen.

"Indeed, it has been awhile," Broom replied coldly, "and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Oh, come now, just because I banished you all those years ago doesn't mean that we can't still be friends!" the voice laughed. "I just did what I had to do."

Gorluk was leaning against Broom's back and could feel him flinch for a moment, but then began to laugh. "You think I left because you, my little brother, banished ME? You know full well how easily I could have killed you and taken your leadership for myself!"

There was a long pause of silence. "Ah," the voice finally spoke, "so you left because of that other thing."

Gorluk saw Broom slowly nod. "Took you awhile to figure out."

The voice from inside sighed. "It's deep into the past now. I'm here because the clan needs you once again."

"Me? The clan only knew me as the strong, cruel, barbarian I once was. I'm just an old man now," Broom snorted, "an old hermit that enjoys his isolation."

"Liar. You were born on the night of a lunar eclipse during the celebration of Brongeth, the God of War and Revolution. The entire clan treated you like a savior all your life because of your birth, but also because you had a gift! Do you remember, as a child, when you could lift a cow with one hand? Or when you punched a rogue so hard that his skull cracked and his lifeless body flew into the air and landed in a tree? We all knew that you had inherited Brongeth's strength, and that the Gods had sent you to lead us!"

"The night of my birth was simply a coincidence, the cow was only a few days old, and the man had landed onto a considerably short tree, it could have been a bush," Broom replied bluntly. "I had let all that talk about being a savior get into my head and it landed me in a lot of trouble."

"Could someone who let power get into his head be able to nearly lead the clan into an uprising? No one was more outspoken about our people's injustice than you! You were the only person who had any hope that we could reclaim our old lands, and you knew that the only way to do that was to fight!" The man spoke louder and louder as he spoke, which made Gorluk's blood run cold.

But then the man stopped and sighed. "That's why we need you. We all need you. We have more weapons, more strategy, thanks to that old Wizard Saruman, but we need true leadership."

Gorluk nearly jumped upon hearing Saruman's name, and slowly began to understand the seriousness of the situation. If these people were working for Saruman, who knew what sorts of things they were capable of doing?

Broom just retorted in disgust. "I'm surprised with your pride that you would let anyone help you. And why do you think that wizard is helping you, by the way? Do you think he really cares about reclaiming our ancestral lands?"

"We just made a deal with him," the voice said defensively. "Help him in this little war he's started against the Eorlingas, and in return we can return to our lands. That will be it."

Broom was silent for a very long time. "That will never happen. Even if this war is won and you wipe away all of the Eorlingas off the face of Rohan, you will never get those lands back."

"And what makes you think that?" the voice asked coldly.

"I know that. All this wizard cares about is power. He views your entire clan as a bunch of dirty, mindless brutes that are so desperate for better lands that they'll listen to anything he says. So give them some weapons and fake promises, release them into the hills to destroy everything in sight, and just like that, they're under his control. So when that happens, those lands he gives you are never going to be yours at all; it's all going to be his. And before you know it, he'll be controlling you all like puppets."

"THAT IS NOT TRUE!" the voice roared. "THIS IS THE CLOSEST WE HAVE EVER BEEN TO RESTORING OUR CLAN TO WHAT WE ONCE WERE, AND NOT EVEN A WIZARD WOULD DARE TAKE ADVANTAGE OF US! WE ARE NOT BLIND!"

Gorluk was shaking with fear despite every urge he had to control himself. He listened as the man inside began to breathe heavily as if he was trying to calm himself, then said with a low whisper "Will you not help your family?"

Broom seemed to deflate. His shoulders sagged and his knees bent slightly as if his whole body suddenly became heavier. "The last time you asked me that… I regretted everything I did afterwards. There is no way I am ever trusting you again."

"Then your decision has been made, hasn't it? Will you prove that you are not a coward?"

Broom straightened himself and squared his shoulders. Gorluk watched with confusion as he moved his dagger forward, held it with both hands, and pointed the blade towards his body.

With a swift thrust, he stabbed himself in the stomach.

Gorluk covered his mouth, doing everything he could not to scream. He blinked tears out of his eyes as Broom sank to his knees, but falling backwards, his body pushed Gorluk down, still managing to conceal him like a shield. "Do not move…" Broom managed to say in the lowest whisper possible, "until they leave…"

Gorluk heard footsteps approach, and able to peer through a hole in Broom's cape, he saw four pairs of feet pass by, and one stop near Broom's head.

"I was expecting for you to be a pathetic shell of everything you once were," the man said, "but I was never expecting you to be this… unloyal." He kicked Broom's body and walked away.

Gorluk stayed still as he heard the footsteps die away into the hills. "Gorluk…" Broom rasped, "your potion…"

"Right!" He wiggled out from beneath Broom's limp body and stepped over him to get into the hut. Finding his bag next to the fire, he reached in and pulled out Galadriel's gift. Running back to Broom, who's face had grown pale as blood started to slowly seep out of his body, he opened the flask and tried to pour it directly into broom's mouth.

"No!" Broom turned his head away. "You have to take the knife out first!"

Looking down, Gorluk finally allowed himself to scream when he realized that Broom's dagger was sticking out of his stomach. "I-I-I don't think I can…" he wailed. "Won't it hurt?"

"Of course it will!" Broom snapped, "but it will help me live!"

"O-ok…." Gorluk reached forward and wrapped his fingers around the blade. "One… two…"

"Oh for heaven's sake just pull it out alr-AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" Broom screamed bloody murder as Gorluk yanked out the knife before reaching to three, and as he had opened his mouth to scream, Gorluk poured in the healing potion.

"YOU little…." Broom growled, but looked down with surprise as he watched his wound begin to disappear.

"Sorry," Gorluk said apologetically, "That's how I was taught to take out weapons. It's easier when done by surprise."

"Well then… thanks." Broom got up and walked back inside the hut. "Looks like we've both had our near-death experiences in the same day."

"About that…." Gorluk said slowly, "why did you…."

"Oh, stab myself?" Broom chuckled nervously "It's a clan tradition. You see, when you get this message outside your home," Broom explained as he pulled out a stone with several strange and intricate markings carved into it, "it means that you are about to be chosen for something that means life or death for the clan… and if you refuse, you have betrayed the clan so you must die. And to die, you either do it yourself or the clan has to do it for you, which is the ultimate act of cowardice."

Broom seemed so casual about it that Gorluk wondered if Broom even cared if he had lived or died on his doorstep. He watched Broom walk towards his chair, sit down with a sigh, and begin to wipe the blood off his dagger, his face expressionless.

"Broom?" Gorluk said weakly.

"Hm?" he looked up at Gorluk attentively.

"I don't want to pry too much… it's obvious that there are a lot of things that you want to keep buried in the past, but…" Gorluk took a deep breath before finally asking, "why did you leave?"

Broom's eyes left Gorluk and he seemed to stare ahead in deep thought. With a sigh, he set his dagger down on the table and looked up again at Gorluk, this time with a sense of hurt on his face.

"There were things that I did… that I needed to leave behind."

Gorluk stood at the doorway for a moment, realizing that this was the first genuine thing Broom had said all night (even though his answer was still vague), and slowly begin to step forward.

Broom seemed to realize what was about to happen, because his eyes widened, and he put his hands up. "Nonononono, I'm fine, I don't need any sort of contact, stay back…"

A smirk crept through Gorluk's fangs as he continued walking, raising his arms up. "Trust me, you need this."

"No I don't! Stop acting childish, I don't need a-" Broom's voice faltered as he tried to jump out of his chair, but Gorluk grabbed him and gave him the biggest hug that a small Orc could give.

Gorluk squeezed Broom for a few moments, before letting go and making a giant step back. "I understand. I know exactly what it's like to be ashamed of who you were born to be, and regretting the past, but the beautiful thing about it all is that it only exists in the past. We sometimes might not be able to escape it, but we always have the chance to prove that we're better than it."

Broom watched in stunned silence as Gorluk walked across the hut and pick up his sword and bag. Walking towards the doorway, Gorluk turned and smiled at Broom.

"Are you coming?"

"W-where?" Broom stammered.

"Well, I don't exactly have a clear idea, but… I think I know how we can stop the barbarians."

Broom's jaw dropped, realizing that he had never both feared and admired an Orc so much in his entire life. Standing up, Broom squared his shoulders and looked down at Gorluk.

"Good thing I don't have anything better to do. What's the plan?"

~0~0~0~

This is probably the longest chapter I have ever written for this story so far, but I was so excited to start writing again that I let myself get carried away! I know things are looking a bit confusing, but I promise to have everything more explanatory in the next chapter. Sorry for the two long years of hiatus, lots of things were happening, but like I promised before, there is no way I am ever giving up on this story. You may expect me to be a bit more active (I live in a college dorm room now so I have all the uninterrupted time in the world!), so expect to see the next chapter in less than a month! If there was anything you loved or hated, please let me know, I love reviews.

~Tatharwen