A/N: Okay! Thank you for the review, Willow Treaty. I will take some time to consider what would happen to Halt. Remember that he never received the warnings of the Skandians, and so would not be ambushing them in the forest. It might take a while to get this chapter up, as I have to imagine what happened to him. It is an interesting idea for Will, maybe I'll end up doing a bonus chapter or a different story in which that happens. I never even considered it, so thank you.

I hope to replace this chapter with an actual update soon.

-Xartimus

Okay, consider it replaced!

So sorry it took so long, I really have no excuse except that I was reading other fanfiction. (for those of you who have read both Artemis Fowl and Harry Potter, karatemaster101's King of Serpents series is amazing!)

Anyways, getting sidetracked, but I thought that was worth being mentioned. In this chapter, I will try to explain, as best as I can, what I imagine Halt doing.

There will be no last line from the books, as this is completely different from the storyline, instead, there will be a last line from the last chapter so you know where in the battle I am inserting you.

Thank you, sorry, and I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this chapter, all rights go to John Flanagan.

The Skandians were drawing close to the battle line now, and half of the archers let loose their arrows.

All of the Ranger's waited a split second after the majority hit their targets to loose their own. Because of their extremely fast and accurate shooting, they would be keep the Skandian giants occupied between each volley with arrows of their own. Their main job, however, was to hit the Skandians that seemed the largest threats or were coming to close to their own lines for the less accurate archers to risk shooting.

Among these Rangers were two whom we know well, and I will be going into more depth using their point of view. The first is Gilan, and the second, Halt. (I might also throw in Crowley, being the Head of the Ranger Corps).

Gilan waited patiently for the archers around him to load, draw, and fire before whipping his first arrow out and searching for a target. Each of the Ranger's had their assigned areas so one Skandian did end up on the ground with fifty-two arrows sticking out of him. After all, the Rangers job was to search out the largest threat, and there seemed one Skandian in Crowley's section that would have definiatly drawn the attention of all the other Rangers.

He turned his gaze back to his own assigned section; an area around twenty feet wide and stretching straight out until the end of the Skandian line. With a quick glance he had singled out five Skandians he judged to be the largest threats. One, quite large, with three arrows sticking out of various places on his body, and seemingly unaffected by them. Another, rather ordinary looking Skandian except for the fact that he seemed to be going into a Berzerker rage. The third was small looking but moving at a far faster pace than the other Skandians, and likely to reach the Araluen line before his companions. The fourth seemed to be in some position of power, and the fifth was possibly the largest Skandian he had ever seen.

Gilan's brain processed all this information in a fraction of a second and turned towards the issue of selecting a target. He would be able to loose at least three arrows before having to shoot the small Skandian, he knew, and while the first Skandian already had three arrows sticking out of him the Berserker was going to be more of a problem. The Skandian in power was unlikely to be as much a threat either, and considering the size of the other Skandian, it would probably take at least four rapid arrows to take him down.

Having assessed the threat level of all the targets, Gilan quickly took four arrows in his hand and shot three times at the Berserker. Forehead, heart, eye. Berserker or not, he would not be making it to the Araluen line. Then he turned the fourth arrow on the small Skandian (or, smaller Skandian. He was still huge). He took a second to aim before dropping him five feet from the Araluen line. The shield bearers in the front turned to flash nervous, quick smiles at their saviour before turning their gaze back to the other Skandians.

Choosing his next target, he quickly took out the large Skandian, shooting five arrows in rapid succession, through the shield line and into the massive, axe wielding, giant. Amazingly, it did not kill, him, though it did slow him down enough that he was no longer an immediate issue.

Now Gilan had to choose between the already injured Skandian and the Leader. He knew that once in battle, the Skandians hardly ever listened to their authorities, preferring just to charge in and 'hack and slash'. Therefore, taking out the authoritative Skandian was unlikely to make much difference, whereas leaving the injured Skandian could cause him to become another Berserker. Loosing another three arrows in the same sequence as his first shots, (forehead, heart, eye) the Skandian fell down to be trampled by his kinsmen.

And of course, this left only on Skandian on his current target list, which he was able to dispatch easily with a single arrow to the heart.

All of this was completed before the third volley of arrows. But now the Skandians were starting to clash into the Araluens and Gilans job now resorted to picking off the Skandians that were managing to make progress through the shield wall. He considered his job rather uninteresting after that.

Halt however, seemed to have the strongest Skandians in his section and, as a result was quickly running out of arrows while trying to keep up with the incoming waves. He had to think of something quick before the line caved. Which was a problem considering the fact that there were absolutely no resources near the Skandians except the Araluens, which he refused to use on a matter of principal. He couldn't call over any of the other Ranger's, or the other sections would start to cave. No. He had to do something completely reckless, stupid, and hopefully effective.

He would have to use his fire arrows. Luckily, the Araluen shields were all soaked in water previous to the battle, in case this tactic had to be used. It caused them to be weaker, but, since the Skandians covered their shields in pitch, it was a necessary safeguard. Halt knew that as soon as he lit his section on fire, the other Rangers would do the same in order to cause confusion among the ranks.

'Here goes the most ridiculous maneuver in the history of war' thought Halt grimly, before lighting his special arrow in a torch sitting next to him. 'Let's hope it works.'

And with that he let the arrow fly right into the Skandian shields, causing the fire to leap between the Skandians. There was a brief moment of panic when a spark landed on an Araluen shield, but the precautions seemed to have held well. Looking down the line, he saw the Skandians in utter confusion as their comrades starting choking on the smoke. Halt smiled grimly at the effectiveness of the strategy.

Meanwhile Crowley was moving up and down the line of archer's lending a helping hand to any Ranger who needed it, and sending the two Ranger Apprentices to do the same.

When the fire started, however, Crowley called them back and had them fetch water from the river in case the Araluen line caught fire. Glancing towards the source of the first fire, he was unsurprised to see Halt. As fine a Ranger as Halt was, he always seemed seemed to be the first to act in any crisis, which was why they had gotten along so well right after they first met. Of course, that could also be the fact that they had the same teacher, or that they were so recklessly similar…

Snapping his mind back to the battle, he started lighting his own arrows and sending them into the fray. That should keep the Skandians at bay for another while, he thought satisfied.

The battle had just ended and Halt was cursing his bad luck. There just had to be another army, and he just had to be on the top of Morgorath's hate list. Sighing in resignation, he stumbled to his feet as one of the Wargal's pulled at the rope around his neck. Time to meet Morgorath, get taunted and die. There would be no other end to this meeting, he knew. A plan was forming in his mind to make Morgorath regret it though.

When he entered, or rather, was pulled into Morgoraths mountain throne room, he gazed around and was altogether unimpressed by the efforts made to create a regal atmosphere. In fact, it seemed more like Morgorath had simply given children some chisels and told them to have fun. He smirked.

Morgorath was unpleased with the expression on Halt's face and decided to alter it, and quickly. "So, Halt the mighty Ranger is at my feet." He taunted. " How I have looked forward to this moment." He stepped down the horridly carved steps so he was standing just in front of Halt. To his fury, he realised that the smirk was still on Halt's face, and in fact, was more pronounced than ever. "You think this is funny, do you?"

"Of course." Came the offhand reply. Halt may have been resigned to his death, but he intended to irk Morgorath as much as possible before his moment came. It served the dual purpose of skipping the torture as well.

Morgorath was taken back by the response. He puzzled in his mind what could possibly be funny in this situation to Halt, and came up with a blank. He had no idea why the other man was acting like this.

"Your… throne room… is quite… unique." Halt told him. "Did you make it yourself?"

Morgorath flushed. It wasn't his fault Wargals were so clumsy with their paws. And he certainly would never stoop so low as to carve his own throne room. Really, the idea! He glared at Halt.

"No? I was sure it was your handiwork. Oh well." Halt murmered. He looked Morgorath straight in the eye and quickly thought of another way to anger him. After a few moments of silence, he found his opportunity. "Well, aren't you going to go into a little power spiel where you say I am at your mercy, you'll kill everyone I love in front of me, you'll destroy Araluen and yada, yada, yada?"

Morgorath flushed once again. He was indeed about to say those exact things, yet the indifference on Halt's face caused him to rethink it. Besides he did not like being predictable. "No. You are here to die, nothing more." With that he brought his sword forward and issued the killing stroke. Halt died with a smile on his face and a laugh in his throat.

A look that haunted Morgorath's dreams as long as he lived. Trying to figure out why Halt looked like he knew something Morgorath did not, even on his deathbed. He spent many hours contemplating it during the months following the battle. Eventually it turned to days, and then weeks. He died locked up in his room, insane, and starved from his obsession. Halt had completed what he'd set out to do.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I realize that this would be unlikely to work in real life, but I also realize that this is fiction and so anything can happen that we want it to. Besides, it paints a nice mental picture. Or I suppose a better word would be epic. Since the picture is definitely not nice…

Once again, thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed the story and thank you for all the reviews. Oh, and so sorry for not uploading for over a month. I believe this will be the end of this story, so goodbye and enjoy all your other reading adventures.