Dawn broke across the fields of Thaurband.

The townships had not changed in appearance much since the fall of Sauron. A large dam, part fortification and prison, with a township build atop and on either side. Two massive waterwheels, each larger than a siege engine, slowly turned with the passage of water and powered the turnings of the massive mills that flanked the dam on either side. Irrigation channels and ditches crisscrossed from upriver, running kilometers out into the wastes of Nurn. In the distance, the silhouettes of plantations loomed.

Men trudged back and forth across the wastes in small groups, and lights bloomed in the twilit darkness from the stone edifices of the town. All the men about were free of chains, but were burdened by tired eyes and a slow, slothful pace. With the slaughter of every goblin and orcish slave in Thaurband, even with more than two thousand men to claim the town everything was undermanned. The fields, the mills, the plantations, and the forges. Less men at least meant less mouths to feed, but tension filled the air - these freed men of the lake were neither equipped nor fully able to defend what was theirs.

Standing within the highest room of the Western mill, Vísesinda peered out at distant handheld lantern lights as men tracked across the ashen scapes. An elf, with long red hair that hung from his head like jungle creepers, with vicious scars drawn across his face and neck, permanently contorting his ruined lips and cheeks into a drooping visage of despondence. His right eye was a ghostly shade of white, appearing blind and impotent - his left was the color of a winter Maelstrom, and filled with a nameless rage.

"This standing," His voice came out in a faintly hoarse rasp, lacking the smoothness of his unblemished kin. "Is not what we hoped it might be. Two thousand mortal men do abide us, but we have few armaments to hand them. The prison has been renovated to hinder siege, but everything we hold of value lies beyond the depths of Thaurband."

He spoke for the benefit of his forlorn rangers, recently returned from week-long scouting expeditions elsewhere in the contentious land of Mordor, where the shadows dwelt even the wake of timeless evil. Three men and an elf, all wearing cloth spotted through and through with soot and dust as though each had risen straight from the grave; their complexions telling similar tales. Their expressions neutral, their gazes stern.

"If we are sieged, we might hold for weeks upon weeks, but our enemy need not control the dam to seize what they want. We must be swift and strike now, quickly and hard. Tell me of your findings."

The first ranger to speak was Duran, a man with graying hairs but still lithe and muscular, his body occupying the span of time where strength and wisdom were briefly matched. "It is as you said at the sister town of Caran. The few men we brought with us as spotters recognized several of their tormentors there - the orcs and overseers of Thaurband have cast in with the lot of Raugz Sorr. Two volunteered to mingle with their chattel for our purposes before we left, but there is no assurance they will be live upon our return. The orcs have many wargs at their disposal, and so we were unable to press as close as we might have liked for fear of our scent being tracked."

"If the taskmasters of Thaurband are there, their commander must have been aware that Thaurband had been overtaken by its captives." Vísesinda mused. "Elsewise they would have come here instead of going out of their way to occupy Caran. We must assume they will strike at us soon if we do not move."

Next to speak was the elf Llendiel, unremarkable for an elf but a vision of vigor and power besides the mortal men he accompanied. "A large host of Orcs have set up a large camp in the midst of Nurn, and there men move free of chains. Our own volunteers, who briefly mingled amongst them, claim that the men of Aukhen Agon are free - that their master, the savant Tuskkar, has freed all slaves amongst their number from bondage. There was much word of setting out to build a stronghold in the plains, which concerned me - I surveyed the area thoroughly under cover and with great care. There were no quarries, no traces of lumber or mills, nor charcoal pits or forges. As I understand it, the rabble carries with them only the food and stores of several plantations they have raided."

"Curious." Visesinda stated flatly, his left eye coldly narrowing as he thought. "While you were away, we did receive a small handful of men from that direction, claiming to have been let loose by their captors. They spoke similar nonsense of being freed from bondage, alongside many Goblins and Orcs. They claimed that those who remained were too fearful of being fell upon by less merciful hordes or starvation should they leave. How many men do you suppose were left?"

"Perhaps three to five hundred." Llendiel replied. "We had to move carefully, as there was little cover for us to exploit. Most of our information comes from our volunteer informants."

Visesinda thought silently for several moments. Three to five hundred men - that was nothing to disregard. Each of the warbands in Mordor outnumbered the men of the lake of Nurnen significantly, but even a difference of one hundred men could turn the tides of a protracted siege. "That is worth delaying an immediate skirmish." He declared. "Send instead an envoy, to ply and lure the hearts of the men there - have it said that they have no need to live amongst a rabble of orcs and goblins, and that they might join with the Free Men of the Lake of Nurnen - where they might come to be a part of a new nation of men, for men. Ply such for two nights or until you are rebuffed; then you may attack at will. You may have two hundred of our rangers for your purposes. Be cautious. Spread disarray rather than death, mayhem rather than chaos, do not spend more lives than you must. Without a proper fortification, many of this sad camp will likely break and flee." He then turned to face the two remaining rangers - brothers, Saturos and Karst.

"Cirith Ungol has become more fearsome still with the death of Sauron." Karst spoke, his voice a soft murmur, as though he feared the words might carry and be heard elsewhere. "There are no bound men there, only Orcs, Goblins, and Uruk. All through the night, one can hear the cries of drakes and their handlers, and in the day one flies through the airs, mounted by a black Uruk wearing the armor of an Easterling. The many roads and crags by and through the place are well patrolled and traveled, and we dared not weave too deeply through them."

"Then there, at least, our path is certain." Visesinda said, a air of confidence in his words. "You will take two dozen men and do what you may to break and disrupt these passages. Create rockfalls and landslides if you must - aim to make their forces abandon these collapsed paths, to allow us to move unhindered through them. If they do not fall prey to such a rouse, they must spend time and effort to clear each road. Take these opportunities to strike and divest them of their labour. Do not engage in protracted battles, volley and then flee." He then turned back to Duran.

"Until the pitiful host amidst Nurn has been scattered, we may not deal with the Raugz Sorr - such would be foolish. You will take as many men as needed and devise a channel across Eastern Nurn to deter the passage of Uruk and Wargs alike. Fill it with the waters of Nurnen, raise the Western bank to be higher than the East, and erect a palisade atop as well." Seeing Duran's objection coming, Visesinda raised his voice slightly and carried on speaking. "The channel need not be large - it merely must traverse across the road of Khand. Beyond that we may guard as we have done for the past weeks. This measure only needs to keep the wargs and blackguards of Caran from creeping along the shore of Nurnen to lash at us."

With that, Visesinda grasped at his cloak, lying upon the nearby table, and dorned it. "I shall go with you personally to oversee the project. The rest of you should depart immediately - especially you, Llendiel. The sooner that rabble is dispersed, the better." With that, the rangers all descended from the mill and went their separate ways, each forming bands and departing from separate ends of Thaurband.

In time, each would reach their destination, and there havoc would be borne.