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Khalad looked at Astalder briefly before resuming to gaze towards the pillar of smoke. He held his arm across his chest, right hand upon the hilt of his sword. Ready to draw it at moment's notice.
"The messengers could not tell much more than what you heard. They fought valiantly yet had little chance. At least when it came to this tower the Haradrim were numerous enough to easily defeat our soldiers. And rather than using stealth they did it openly, knowing that it would alert us. They must either know our numbers and that we are not a strong force in this area to protect the settlement; or else their numbers must be so great they do not fear meeting us in battle."
Khalad waited for a few moments before continuing to speak.His logic and conclusions did not bode well and he began to fear for defeat. "At any rate, we can only mount a proper defence with chances of successfully defending Poros if we scout their army; we need to know what kinds of troops they have, and how many. Furthermore, I think the two messengers that came from the watch tower should return to Poros. Somebody must alert them even now, and perhaps prepare to evacuate if need be."
The young Roquen took a firmer hold of the reins of his steed, and let go of the hilt of the his sword. Whatever must happen, happens, Khalad thought. "We await your command," he said to Astalder.
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