[Cimmerian]

The great black stallion rode hard and fast toward Rivendell, his long dark mane blowing wildly behind. Azruk now content to leave Thrakatburz to her little games, rode on. His captive, a little female hobbit, was placed in front of the saddle, face down on her stomach. The frightened little creature held on to Azalel's flowing mane tightly as the rough ride almost certainly gave cause for her to throw up the only meal she had all day. But she held on for dear life.

Rivendell was a mile away, a minute or so at the Stallions great pace. Azruk wondered where Narcis was and what had happened to Keldin.

He would have to send his trusted lackeys to get reinforcements from Mordor. The gates of the citadel within view, the great uruk spurred his horse on, as the captive hobbit gave into unconcious bliss.