Eodras slowly looked up to see the Haradrim woman standing over him, obviously the discrimination towards her had finally become too much. It wasn't just Eodras who been horrible with her, almost everyone hated her and it was a surprise that she'd managed to stay with the group for this long.

A few moments later she started to talk to him. Eodras watched her grin so he couldn’t really tell how bothered she was by his actions, did she not care or was she trying to mask her emotions with humour, Eodras had no idea. He took a while to actually say anything back to her. "I think you know that it wasn't a mistake Haradrim and if they're from the same place as you, that's how we treat women." Eodras calmly replied as he looked back down at the fire and took a bite out of the squirrel. "You can take your hand off your sword, I don't plan on having a fight tonight." Eodras sighed then looked back up at her leaning against the tree thinking. "Why would come this far north? You must have known people were going to treat you like this… You could have at least worn something a bit less noticeable."

@Vas Khaleen

Agarwaen found a tree easily enough, the branches stout and strong. Above him the canopy of leaves taking the worst of the downpour though some did manage to get through, becoming little streams ans constant annoyances from the failing leaves above. The limbs beneath the elf sway gently, far atronger than the wind that strove to move them. On the breeze was carried the laughter of the dwarves as they ifnored the rain and enjoyed their merriment, in true fashion of their kind. For stout and strong were Durin's folk. A mere storm would do little to quell their cheer.

But one dwaef moves about the caravan in a march that promised trouble for a theif. Oid found no sign of the large elf or his bar of gold within the wagons half circle, nor did any he ask. If he did ask, they merely stated in various ways and manners that the elf had been about looking for the lonesome lad. Aught than was mystery to them and they were keen to get to their sleep and warmth. A spice merchant would note the Haradim who he sols to ans the elf walking away, slighty quick and with arrow in hand. But none new more lest Oid asked Darcyn and his las. Then he would have been met with gales of laughter and mockery along side the gales of rain.

The shelter of thr hedge was scarce protecrion as rain contonued to fall and Lathranien was force to admit something more would be needed. Slipping the trinkets and gold back into the hidden pocket of her tunic she left her bow and arrows behind. For they would do little good against the vegetation that was her current target. Thick leafy branches and pine needles were her prey. The elfling knew a thing or two and went about her way with that born ease of any elf. Assured all were tucked well within tent or wagon on this dreary night. Any who were out would be drunk or too weaey to give notice. Grinning slightly under her hood at the freedom the foul weather granted Lathranien scooped up branches and leaves sorting through what was fit and what was not. Unaware other keen ears might hear or unwelcomed eyes might see. Though she passed a good deal near the tree that houses Agarwaen. Her cloak clamped tight about her and her hood kept the rain from soaking her utterly as she worked.

@Andreyich @Vas Khaleen @josephb @13org @Pirouette

Mawiyah watched the man closely keeping her scimitar ready to be easily drawn free, listening as he spoke narrowing her black makeup surrounded eyes downwards in a bit of anger but mostly disappointment she had hoped to find at least some people who weren't so damned closed off. Tsk'ing loudly as she finished she muttered a swear in black speech beneath her breath 'aukuk', taking her palm off the pommel of her blade Mawiyah crossed her forearms over her armored chest; taking in a deep breath she reached upwards unfoiling the wrap around her head allowing it to drape lazily about her neck. Her facial structure was slender and fine with well pronounced features not unlike an elf but not so pointed, also revealing the tattoos as well; her black eyes gazing over the man for a moment afterwards before speaking.

"Most of us, we live and die in the same corner of the world that we are born in... I do not want to be most of us. Aye, I knew people would be suspicious even hateful, and there is no hiding what i am as you see by my face and accent so why change my dress? One day perhaps the Men of the West and the Men of the Harad can be allies, but I fear it will become worse before better."

Mawiyah nodded to the male as she finished, wrapping her head back up in the silk scarf as she walked back towards her camping spot cooked rabbit in hand; smoothly slipping out of sight behind a wagon and away from the campfire littered main area towards the treeline.

@josephb

Agarwaen sat down on the branches. The wind brought the familiar scent to his nose, forest and rain.
The wind and rain gently caressed his face, small drops of rain touched his lips. Agarwaen felt truly in peace inside a forest. He was an elf after all...

Laying down on the branch, he relaxed and tried to sleep. Many things happened that day and he was somewhat tired. A good night of sleep wouldn't hurt anyone.

As he slowly closed his eyes, letting the sound of leaves and rain take him away, he almost fell asleep, but was interrupted by an unfamiliar sound, the dwarves strong and deep voices singing. It wasn't exactly unpleasing, and he was in fact interested on Dwarves, especially their alcohol, which is one of the best, and their happy and lively parties.

With a faint smile, he listened closely to it. He wished he could go there, but sadly, not all dwarves were as friendly toward elves than his old friend.

While hearing the Dwarves' lively song, another sound caught his attention. The sound of something moving near him. Steps, the sound of leaves and branches moving in an unnatural way.

Was it the Haradrim? He was in fact feeling a little bad for distrusting it, but he fought against many of them...

Shaking that feeling away, he silently got his bow, and moved through the trees, silently jumping from branch to branch, searching for the source of the sound.
If it was the Haradrim, it would have to answer some questions before Agarwaen could trust it. If it was an wild animal, it would be good too, after all, he hasn't eaten today.
@LadyRunic

Eodras listened to the Haradrim speak as he laid against the tree, she didn't seem too impressed with the answer Eodras had given her. He didn't know what else she was going to expect from a Gondorian who all of his life had been raised and taught to hate her race. It would take a lot for his opinions to change.

After she'd spoken and started to walk off, Eodras quietly said "Good answer." Not knowing whether she heard him or not but not really caring either way. He slumped further down into the tree, trying to find a spot that would be comfortable enough to get some sleep, knowing he'd need all the energy he could get.

Within a few minutes Eodras had found a position that was bearable, he was curled up and the fire was keeping him warm while his makeshift tent was keeping him dry. His eyes started to get heavier and he could feel himself drifting away. As he fell asleep the woman from the forest came into his dreams as clear as if he was standing in front of her again, repeating everything that she'd said.

Oid did not appreciate the laughter brought upon him. Perhaps Darcyn had not stolen his gold, but he was very mad, and in no mood for this. He lowered his shield and axe, growling a little. "Oi! Listen to me you orc 'n' elf half-breed, I'm going to strangle you with that dung-covered grass you call hair, I am going to rip off chunks of yer fat arse and stick them into those little self-caused marks your cowardly arse calls scars, I am going to grab that piece of rock hammered by a man more blind than you that ya ken to be a sword and stick it up your tiny womanhood just far enough to show everyone what a welp you are, and then stab you a new one with it!" Oid was sure that the fact that he just challenged Darcyn was now well known. With a laugh and a few bangs of his shield, he shouted "Weapons or nay, you little git?" he asked, wondering if the man would at least have some honour in his dealings.

He raised his pole-axe just above his shield, ready to go for the man's groin if he charged now. He was relatively safe from whatever Darcyn may want to throw at him or his comrades arrows with his great round shield and stones from slings would just bounce off of his leather gear. Still, caution hurt nobody, especially not Oid.

Mawiyah stopped just outside of her shelter, curiously turning her head towards the sounds of the Dwarf shouting and the familiar banging of steel on wood. Setting the rabbit down after taking another bite out of the thickest area of the small mammal grasping her horned helmet and bow as she kneeled as well, pulling it on over her scarf with one hand, before kicking some dirt over top of her fire to extinguish it. Walking towards the sound of the shouting dwarf, along with a few other interested parties making sure to stay a fair distance from anyone else as the addition of her fearsome helmet in the dark only increased peoples fears or suspicions; but Mawiyah knew if there was a fight to be had a helmet was an intelligent choice. Only too often she had seen strong fearsome men fall in battle or single duels from taking a glancing blow to the skull, and weak less skilled men win or at least live to fight another day thanks to the metallic head covering not to mention the unique shape of the helmet often inspired fear.

As she got closer she recognized the thick low voice of the Dwarf, lifting the helm off her skull as she realized there was no true attack but only a quarrel of some kind between the Dwarf and another; not uncommon amongst his kind due to their stubborn nature. Which is why they made either great or very unsuccessful merchants in her experience, still curious she carried on until the came into sight of the soon to be fight; staying a respectable distance from anyone with her back to the treeline trusting it more than the caravan to not stick a knife in her back. As she observed the conflict Mawiyah grabbed a drinking horn tied around her shoulder with a leather strap, uncapping it to sip the sweet wine she had left from the Easternling city closest to the border of Gondor; the rich flavor leaving her body with a tingle and a slight longing for home and the hot desert sun. Her right hand laid lazily on her scimitars supple leather bound hilt, eyes scanning around the area the Dwarves outburst taking up most everyone's attention at the moment.

The jeering and cheers of Darcyn's group quieted within the tent as the man himself came out. The man's shirt was rumpled and stained, the sword on his hip half drawn. Sneering down at the dwarf as the lesser being insulted him, Darcyn gave a loud, booming laugh. "Lookie 'er lads. The dwarf thinks 'e can best me!" Several others laughed loudly with him, cheering for this drunken brawl. Darcyn, drunk and not wanting to pass a chance to show up the madden dwarf, beckoned the being to come at him. Drawing his sword with a sharp hiss, and laughed uproariously. "C'mon then, wee man! Let's see what yer lot of goblin squallor ken do!" He sneer and made a lewd gesture at the Haradim he noticed on the edge of the thin crowd. "Then I'll show dat Harad what a real mun can do!" He laughed and lunged at the stout dwarf, hammering away with his sword. Abandoning reason or sense.

Elsewhere, a young elf was pulling the hood of her drenched cloak further over her face. Hugging the leaves and branches to her, she grumbled. The night was setting in quickly and she was getting cold. A good roof on her shelter and some half decent bedding and all would be right. Her grin however was still in full force, as Lathranien stopped by the small stream that made their campsite a common stopping place for the wayward traveler. Kneeling by the water, she set the branches aside. Refilling the small flask she had, Lathranien sat back under the shelter of the tree. The rain didn't break the canopy as badly here and the woman reveled in it. Tossing bits of sticks and leaves into the water, disliking the thought of trekking back through the rain to her small hideaway. The rain and cold deterrent enough, added on the fact she was simply exhausted. It wasn't the first time Lathranien had traveled so far. But it was one of the worst. Between avoiding others, the elf, and Darcyn's crew it was stressful on her nerves and sleep was restless. Never knowing if someone would stubble on her and her secrets be revealed. That, she could never let that happen.

@Andreyich @Vas Khaleen @josephb @13org @Pirouette

Agarwaen swiftly moved through the trees, his senses sharp as a knife, searching for any noise. Whoever was the one who was sneaking in the forest, he would soon find them.

His eyes darted back and forth scanning the forest floor, when suddenly, a loud noise interrupted his search, and it wasnt a pleasant one...

The dwarf and Darcy's voiced echoed through the woods like a curse. Quickly looking towards the camp, he ran silently to the border of the forest, so he could look at what was happening. From the branch of a tree, he saw the Dwarf and Darcyn trading insults, each one of them with his weapons drawn, ready to battle.

Near the treeline, a few meters ahead of him, he could see the Haradrim drinking something, and carefuly watching the both men. Her hand was resting on her swords, but she seemed to have no intent of attacking.

Agarwaen kept analyzing the Haradrim. It was in fact a woman. Her skin sported a exquisite, yet beautiful tone.

Agarwaen carefully moved himself, in order to catch a glimpse of the woman's face. Although it somewhat difficult to see due to her position, her face was... rather attractive, even if she was a haradrim.

He shook his head, cleaning his thoughts. It wasnt the time nor situation for that. All in all, the woman had no wish to fight. She didnt seemed like the type of person who would start a fight. Agarwaen felt a little bit guilty for distrusting the Haradrim at first sight. He was certainly curious about her now.

Pulling two arrows from his quiver, Agarwaen held his breath. His entire body was tensioned together with his bow's limbs. With a swift movement, he let out two arrows in quick succession, the powerful bow shoot the first arrows without a sound, the first one flying towards the feet of the dwarf, purposely missing it by mere milimiters. The second one though, was was aimed directly to Darcyn's feet. His aim was true, and the second arrow flew towards Darcyn. With that force, it was certain to pin it into the ground.

Agarwaen felt no remorse for the last arrow. He would have killed Darcyn, but it wouldnt be a good idea to do it while traveling with a caravan... People would get uneasy and even more agitated than they already were.

"It wouldnt be a bad thing if the dwarf decides to give Darcyn a good beating... He need to learn his place." he thought to himself, with a small grin.

Going inside the forest again, he continued to search for the sound he heard earlier. After seing that the haradrim meant no harm, he was much more relaxed. Maybe the noise was just a wild animal trying to run away from the rain? It could even be the boy from before. He was in fact still rather preocuppied about him.

@LadyRunic @Andreyich

Before the arrow even hit the Dwarf was reaching for his pickaxe out of instinct. As he turned and raised his shield he grabbed a throwing axe and let it loose, only catching it by the ring at the bottom of the handle at the lost moment when he saw the elf aiming for Darcyn. He groaned and then shouted "Yeah ya better run wazzock!" when the elf left. He would have to throttle that pointy ear later, but perhaps give word to the other Dwarfs that they had reason to throttle him too. More than usual for elves, that is.

As he was saying his words he combined that with a counter-charge upon Darcyn his pole axe held half-way to be shortened and to make grappling of his weapon easier, whereas his shield was held lower to knock the man down. Even if Darcyn was stronger, a Dwarf to the legs was almost guaranteed to make a man go on his arse. Besides, Darcyn would be distracted by the arrow, and Oid had to press his advantage. He did not see if it struck armour or if it went in but the shock was just perfect.

@13org @Vas Khaleen @josephb

The dwarf and Man were never to meet in battle, for as the elf moved deeper into the small corpse of woods, the ground gave the echo of several feet and a stench was carried on the air. No longer masked by the heavy rain and darkness that had allowed them to get so close. Swords battered aside the branches as a troop of orcs descended upon the encampment. Some already had blood on their swords, explaining what had happened to the sentries. Darcyn's men rallied against them but it was too weak and they were taken by surprise. With battle cries the battle was met. Women and children, the farmer folk, rushing from their shelter to flee the threat of Sauron's blight. Horses panicked and bolted, oxen doing the same. The poor Master of the caravan was bundled in his wagon, and from the squealing pig like sounds was in quite the panic. If anyone had the mind to notice, they would see the Orcs were not ill equip. But wielding weapons of decent make and with some good deal of skill. A few were rougher but they were smaller, and oft knocked aside by their own as their enemy. Were it not raining, they would see a cloaked figure sitting upon a horse on the ridge of a hill watching the presumed to be massacre. The dwarves were a blessing here, rallying and holding a strong guard against the onslaught. Darcyn held his own against one, kicking one of his men into another to spare himself. The man was shaking with terror like any farmer as he hurled insults at the yrch.

Elsewhere in the forest, Lath was bolting for the camp. Hearing the war cries and terror within the screams, she was keen to reach her hide away and the belongings inside. She could go on, but it would be easier with tools. Especially her beloved bow. Hunting, protection. It held a lot of her hopes in a cold winter or hard trail. When food was scarce and begging wasn't bringing in anything. Her aim wasn't always true, but it was good enough to ensure some food at least. Having abandoned her hood, she let the rain dampen her hair and trickle down her back. Stumbling she bounced from tree to tree. Unaware of a threat coming up quickly behind her, as a orc closed the gap. Smelling elf and wanting a piece of the rare delicacy to himself.

As Agarwaen moved deeper into the forest, a particular stench caught his attention. That stench was awfully familiar to him, orcs.
He looked back, hearing sounds of battle he began running towards the camp. He knew well how cruel and merciless the orcs could be.

As he ran to the camp, a small figure caught his attention, jumping from tree to tree, towards the camp. A young girl, too young to be alone. Behind her, approaching fast, a hungry orc had his eyes fixed on her. Unaware of the enemy, the girl would certainly turn into orc food.

Jumping down the tree, he fell behind the orc, and with a quick slash with his gauntlets, he aimed to the orc's tendons while dashing towards the girl grabbing her in his arms. Hopefully Agarwaen would be able to sever them, making the orc unable to follow them, or at least it was what he hoped it would happen.

Without looking back, Agarwaen ran as fast as he could away from the orc. The orc attack was certainly a problem, but there were dwarves and other capable warriors on the camp. The girl otherwise... If he hadn't showed up, would be dead by now.

@LadyRunic

Mawiyah turned closest to the woods of all of everyone who would have watched the fight between Darcyn and the Dwarf hearing the crashing sounds and snarling from the orc troop. Her scimitar slid free from its wooden sheath smoothly, slicing through the air just as an orc leapt from the shadows; the razor sharp curved blade slicing deep into the beast sending its black blood across the ground. Her left hand quickly pushed her helmet onto her head as she retreated back a few paces, standing closer to the troop of dwarves a crude iron arrow skirting off her lamellar armor. Advancing with the dwarves small resistance group, moving with a fair deal of speed and ferocity with seemingly no fear of defeat a trait often noted in Southron warriors.

"Drepa avhem gith!!!" (Kill them all)

Mawiyah shouted as she drove her knife into the stomach of an orc twisting it tightly to ensure he would be down for the count, letting loose a battle cry from the depths of her lungs. A guttural and almost beast like cry herself, handing her scimitar against a fallen orc with the flat, her fierce eyes splitting the night as she focused on as much as she could amidst the chaos.

Only a few days ago, Ireth had ridden the caravan with the rest of the rather loud party, yet she felt like it had been ages since she left her home behind. It had all been messier than she expected, if she had to be honest, but she was handling it well enough anyways. The traveling party was larger than the young girl had thought, too, which made her a little uneasy during the slow journey. To her great fortune, she was barely noticed around, a special 'ability' of hers she was actually proud of; being short and stealthy enough to not catch everyone's attention. That's why she remained quiet the whole way, just sitting in a corner in one of the last wagons of the caravan, with the hood of her cloak over her head and her face low, eyes fixed on the pages of the book she was currently reading, which laid on her lap.

Ireth preferred to pay no attention to the bragging and laughing and shouting outside by a specific group of annoying men in the caravan, better to keep herself out of trouble as much as she could and stay unnoticed. That was the safest way to travel around when one wasn't very well armed. Even with some apparent fight going on out there that might have startled her a tad, the hazel-eyed girl tried her best to rather focus on her studies. It was in fact hard for her to read while in movement, and since she was barely learning some Sindarin, she couldn't understand some parts of the text in question.

Sighing heavily, she finally gave up and closed the book, cautiously putting it back into her purse to prevent losing it or having it stolen by any of the folks in the caravan. She had barely slept for the past few days, she was tired, her limbs ached for being sitting for a long while and she felt her guts grumbling in protest for not having gotten any food in more than half a day. But venturing out to get some more supplies wasn't a viable option just then, not until the caravan came into a proper stop and she could sneak out easily without risking to lose the trail of it. So, the girl merely rested her head against the wagon's wall, as she began to feel her eyelids growing heavier and heavier. A little nap wouldn't do any harm. She held her purse tightly against herself with both hands, and let herself slowly drift into sleep.

A violent scream torn her out of her sleep, startled and eyes wide-opened as she made out the words that draw said warning: orcs. Of course, she ought to have expected this sort of attack happening anytime along their journey, as the lands they passed by were known for that. She stood up and looked around, horrified and uncertain what to do. From where were the orcs coming? Should she try and hide away? Certainly, a simple elven dagger wouldn't do much to stop an orc. She had no greater way to defend herself should the orcs enter the wagon. Should she run away? But then again, surely the orcs would chase after her and kill her anyways. She had to think, and quick. Where to hide? There were some luggage and sacs and hay in there..., she could probably sneak into that pile and keep quiet and remain still so that they wouldn't see her? Odds were highly pointing she'd get caught either way, but it was worth a try and that seemed just fair enough to her. In times like this, she would pretty much rather being dealing with that jerk from earlier than finding herself in such an awful mess.

Lathranien yelped as she was scooped from the ground. Squirming about in the hold of the much taller being she voice another cry of protest. Raising her fists to strike the offender who dared to snatch her, only to freeze as she saw the all too familiar armor of the last person she expected. Shaking from the cold and her own personal terror, she clung to her best hope for safety. Till the fighting was done and his wrath turned to the younger elf. Behind them she could hear the howls of the orc, but they were filled with pain. Before them was the camp. The song of screeching metal and frightened folk. Speaking only loud enough for the elf to hear, Lathranien pleaded to be let down. Careful to use common. There was no need to advertise her heritage of he did not know of it already. "I need my bow! My pack!" And indeed she did. The bow at least was her lifeline and had been for several years. "Put me down!" Orcs ran for them, loot dropping from their hands aa they saw the eaay targets. There were no more than three, still Lathranien gave a desperate thrash to free herself and bolt from all fighting.

Elsewhere the dwarves fought beside the Haradim, holding a line of defense against the attackers. The orcs grabbed handfuls of goods and loot streaming back into the forest as more still descended upon the caravan. A never ending cycle of bloody battle. Women and childern ran and either made it though to hide in the forest, or were snatched by the clawed hands of the orcs. Giles Wigby still rmained in his caravan shoving the door close from within. Successful thanks in a good deal to his fat bulk. Darcyn slashed at orcs rallying his more seasoned men and forcing them back, step by bloddy step. A orc spotting Ireth lunged for her snarling. Swiping for her with one unarmed hand the other holding back the Haradim women. Aided by a comrade of its own kin.

@LadyRunic
The girl froze when a pair of unnerving blood-red eyes fixed on her, nearly dropping the most reliable weapon she had in hand to poorly defend herself. 'Well, this must be it', she thought grimly, torn between fear and resignation about this fact. Death was something she knew, something she had contemplated for a long while, but never had she thought about dying so brutally in the nasty claws of an orc. Had it all been different if she had perfected the practice of any spell earlier? Maybe, she could have at least given herself a little more time.

She wanted to help, didn't she? She wanted to have the chance to protect the creatures out there, right? Then, she couldn't coward down now. She would have to fight, fight like her father had in the battlefield, fight like her mother had to raise her and give her all she could, fight like her unknown ancestors had for centuries, fight like life had taught her to. And that thought had to be at least inspirational enough to get her moving. Biting her tongue to stop the trembling on her limbs, clenching her fists, one around the elegant handle of the elven dagger she held, Ireth stood on her ground and waited for the imminent blow to come her way. Despite the lack of armour and proper weapons, she had an advantage, after all: her size. She was fast and sly, so she could manage to sneak away somehow if she was cautious enough.

It all happened too fast to Ireth's eyes, yet she couldn't stop and think about it much either. She dodged the orc's hand, rolling aside on her back before quickly hopping back on her heels. Her wrist moved and the blade of the dagger cut across the orc's thigh, not hard enough to slice too deep, but hopefully would suffice to slow the beastly creature if only a tad. Ireth didn't wait to see how much damage had she done to the orc, she was already jumping out of the wagon and running away as fast as she could.

"I need my bow! My pack!"
"Put me down!" she said trashing on his arms.
The girl was cold and afraid, he could feel her trembling as he held her.
"Don't be afraid my child. I wont hurt you." he said softly, trying to calm her down. He didn't know why, but that tiny girl, cold and trembling from cold and fear woke something on him. He felt responsible for her, he wanted to protect her.
"I know it is scary, but stay with me and I'll try my best, no, I will protect you." he said with a smile
"There are too many orcs for you to be running around." he said putting her down behind him, looking to the three orcs.
Taking out his bow and assuming a shooting stance, he nocked an arrow.
Releasing it, the arrow flew to the orc's chest. As soon as it left his bow, the other two orcs were already nearby, ready to attack them.

Rolling backwards, he pushed her away from the charging orcs, nocked two more arrows and let them out simultaneously. Luckily enough, that would be enough to buy them some time.
Following the girl very closely, he stood behind her like her guardian, ready to protect her from any attack.
"Just tell me where your things are, they surely are important for you. We can try to get them, but if things get too dangerous I'm taking you to the camp. It will be easier to defend you with others help." he said to the girl.

@LadyRunic

@13org @Silmaril @Vas Khaleen

The young elleth tumvled from the elder's arms, yanking her hood over her. It was hardly the most comfortable being soaked through with rain. Not caring or really noticing the two orcs fall she scrambled for the hedge in which she had hidden away in. Both of the creatures of darkness did in fact fall, for they were full of the bloodlust of battle and wanting greed. Wincing at the cries and screams of the attack about her, Lathranien snatched up her bow and the quiver, shoving her way through the branches to stumble into the elven man once more. "Many thanks to you." Her words quiet as she rushed for the road. Wanting to be away before the elf realized. Before the orcs killed them all. Before things got worse.

As the orc turned to deliever a swing of his sword upon Ireth, he paused and began to limp off. For several hillocks away came the sound of a horn. And had ot not been the dark of night and raining one might have seen the cloaked figure of a women, the orcs running towards her with goods from the caravan, women and no few childern they had snatched away. Their numbers were diminished but it was no matter for the hard eyes that watched them. The task was done. They had suffiecent captivea for her means and if they needed more? There would be more about. The orcs growled and ripped a child from irs mother's grasp, limping from Ireth to join the flow of fleeing orcs. The ground, the camp they left behind them in shambled and the wails of mourning floating on the air. Many of their numbers had fallen but so too had many of the caravan. For it had been dark and the security of Darcyn and his men had been lacking. The Dwarves all stood and the Haradim woman with them. For all she was such they seemed to have warmed to her in the battle. Carts were overturned, wagons broken. Bodies of men, Darcyn's mostly, littered the bloodied ground with the bodies of orcs. But still the rain came. Hard and steady. As if to cleanse the earth of this taint. The woman whose child was taken wailed beside Ireth. Her child crying back, struggling as the orc ran.

Darcyn himself was chasing after the orcs, limping on one leg and cursing them fouly. His fist griiping his sword with white knuckles, any shield he had long since shattered. He cursed the orcs, the dwarves- for surely theor noise brought the dark servants to them. He swore at the elf for abandoning the foght then paused as he saw said elf and limped towards Agarwaen with a beginning of a barage of insults. Hos drunken battle overriding sense. Lathranien had sense enough to pause her flight from the elf and shrink back into the brush. Many in the camp knew a drunk Darcyn was a damgerous one. One on a battle fueled rage? Didnt bear thinking about. "-Damned pointy eared wench! Fleeing ter yer safe lil' forests whenever danger shows up! Cowardly tippy women with not a man among your lot! Cower in you cities while the rest of us bleed 'n die!" He snarled adding more words about Agarwaen's peferrence in suspected 'mates'. Darcyn looked like some crazed man and in most parts it was true. Cut up, his eyes were wide with more white showing than ever should. His beard in a tangle and spitting the blood that filled his mouth from a busted lip and a few more lost teeth. He advanced on the elf sword brandished about in his rage. There were no lrvs here but to the Man... A elf was just as good, or just as bad.

@LadyRunic

Inevitably, Ireth's legs gave in as she tripped and tumbled on the ground on her escaping attempit. At least she could say she had run far enough from the wagon to be out of that orc's reach... for now. She turned quickly on her back and got up, panting for air and looking around the rather gruesome scene before her. It was all chaos! Children and women all cried in terror, and ran around trying to escape those monster's wrath, while men and dwarves and warrios did their best to fight them out. A woman stood beside her, screaming and crying her lungs out as she watched her poor son being ripped from her arms and taken away by the orcs. Ireth couldn't stand that much, she just couldn't.

So, there she was again, gathering up whatever courage she had left within and tightened her grip around her humble elven dagger. It might have been her only real weapon, and definitely not big nor powerful enough to stop any of those fierce orcs, but she could try. She couldn't just stand there and watch all of this happen to those innocent folks. Oblivious of anything else surrounding her, the brunette found herself running towards said orc, as the infant whimpered and squirmed under its grip. Wielding the sharp fine dagger in hand, Ireth aimed for the orc's hand, stabbing him just above the thick wrist and using all the strength in her to tear the flesh only a bit before hardly pulling out the blade. Of course she knew that would do little to truly hurt the infamous creature, but at least she hoped that would do to distract it so that the kid could escape. As soon was the boy was freed, she told him to run while she would try to entertain the orc. It had been the most daring she had ever been in her life, probably, and the end of it would that be as well.

If the orc had failed to hit her, Ireth wasn't that lucky the second time. Wincing and issuing a cry of pain, the girl was once again hitting the ground, desperately crawling away from the orc that was about to blow its huge knife at her again. There was a bleeding cut across her left thigh, deep enough to slow her down. If she was to die then, she considered innerly, at least she wouldn't go as an utter coward now; had she succeeded defending that woman and her child, that she hoped at the very least, even if she didn't make it out.

Mawiyah ducked smoothly under an orc's blade her scimitar sending another arc of black blood splattering across the wet ground, her head scarf pulled off in the struggle to show the tattoos which marked her face. Her teeth gritted in fury as she was grabbed at by another orc, the much stockier stronger creature yanking her close with a dagger thrusting at her the crude iron scraping her lamellar armor; the leather catching it as it slipped between two of the layered steel plates. The blow bruising her ribs as she slung her head forwards the steel rim of her helmet smashing the orc's nasty deformed nose its blood splattering down her face and body; her scimitar dropping on the muddy ground as she shoved the creature down. Climbing ontop of the orc as it fell flat on its face pressing her knees into its shoulders as she pressed down on the back of the struggling beasts head; forcing it into the soft muddy earth. Its struggling slowly ceasing as it lost oxygen, stumbling back to her feet as she snatched up her scimitar sheathing it as the remaining orcs fled into the darkness.

Mawiyah quickly ran over to a man bleeding from his gut coughing up blood, one of Darcyn's by the looks of him groaning as she knelt down to check on his wound; cutting his shirt open with her knife. The wound was a large deep gash all the way through a fatal wound for certain, as she looked at the dying man Mawiyah offered him wine from her skin which he eagerly accepted. As he finished drinking from the skin and handed it back to the Haradrim woman, the man looked into her eyes a rare time were her race didnt seem to matter.

Mawiyah examined the wound as she man groaned again, speaking with a tired voice glancing around as the panic of the battle remained.
"Bad way to go, have you had enough?"

The man looked at the woman with obvious fear in his strained eyes, tears streaking his face as he nodded face scrunched in pain from the ripped flesh and punctured organs. Mawiyah held her knife down low by her thigh, down on one knee thrusting it smoothly and suddenly between his fourth and fifth rib on the left side of his chest severing the heart and putting and end to his suffering. Wiping her blade clean on the dead mans pants, closing his eyelids with two fingers as she stood up sheathing the knife; turning to see Darcyn already berating someone else again. Her feet squishing in the mud and blood as the rain tinked against the steel of her helm, aiming to step between Darcyn and Agarwaen

@LadyRunic @13Org