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Novnarwen · 09-11-2004, 07:22 AM

Rhând

He cursed loudly, using the foulest words he could pronounce. Seven Orcs against two women: how could the outcome - both the women had escaped from the incident alive and unharmed, - be possible, Rhând asked himself. He cursed again. "Stupid twits! Useless idiots!" He groaned, shaking with rage. In order to escape himself, he had jeopardised everything he longed for. Now, he couldn’t possibly return to the prisoners. If Darash and Lyshka found Grash, they would certainly tell him about the attack, and if they had seen Rhând, they would tell Grash about that too. It was too risky, way too risky.

He was alone now. There was no one, except the Orcs, swarming around. How long could he manage to stay in this costume and avoid revealing himself? Knowing that at some point, the lousy costume would cause suspicion and his true self would be revealed, he hurried out of the crowd, cursing again. For how long could he go on like this? If Rhând was to find an ally amongst the Orcs, how could he be able to convince them anyway? Shaking his head, cursing his misfortune, he realised the facts: he didn’t look like a Haradrim, and would certainly be taken as a Gondorian spy and they would kill him instantly, unless... Yes, of course. He knew where the others were heading. He knew their route. Grinning to himself, he remembered the conversation with Grash, where he had asked specifically about the route. The route will be the key to my freedom, the key to Him. It will grant me my wish, my desire. I will finally again be His faithful servant. He frowned. If he was to carry out this plan, he would havr wait for the right moment to strike, even though it would take some time.

*

The day grew older. Slowly, the minutes and hours passed by. Rhând had wandered around and about, choosing his own path. He knew where the others were heading, but he needed allies. He couldn't do this alone, not now if his cover was blown. The situation he found himself in, reminded him of the cell in the Tower, where he had been held for many months. He'd been alone there too, except when some of the Orcs had paid him a visit now and then. He didn't speak to anyone, and none spoke to him; a strange silence, just like it had been in the Tower. There were only sounds, such as the hissing from the breeze coming in from his window, the Orcs jabbering and the rats squeaking; sounds he didn't really listen to. All in all, he was completely alone.

Wandering slowly, his feet aching, he tried figuring where he was supposed to go. The prisoners were heading for Ithilien. He knew that much. But where was Ithilien? Which direction? Being a person with little sense of locality, he again reminded himself of that he needed allies. He couldn't wait long either; he needed someone now.

"Come on, you lazy and useless apes! Move!"

He turned. A voice, here? Shaking with fear, he threw himself behind a group of stones and made himself as small as possible.

"Move it, I said!"

The ground trembled. Heavy feet were about. Rhând didn't move. He didn't dare. Who was heading this way, his way, whichever way it was? The sound of the armours, made Rhând drop dead. Orcs probably, he thought. I have to get moving myself, he thought, knowing that Orcs in general had a very good sense of smell. Crawling, hearing that whoever it was approached quickly, he became aware of his own Orcish armour and how much sound it made. Scared stiff now, he listened to the Orcs stop.

"Did you hear that?!" The voice reflected a brutality that scared the poor Haradrim so much that he actually wished he was back in his cell. At least, he had been somewhat safe there. He always knew what would happen to him at all times. If there were footsteps approaching his cell, he knew someone would come in, he would be beaten. Now, on the other hand, there were footsteps too, but he didn't know exactly who it was, and what would happen to him if he was caught.

"That ain't no rate or mouse, Lurg! That's something far bigger. Fresh flesh. Human maybe?"

"I second that! Maybe, it's them; those petty prisoners. I'll give 'em in. I've my blade ready! Find 'em now!"

Hearing this, Rhând panicked. He began to crawl in the sandy ground as fast as he could, wanting to escape this horrible Lurg. He breathed heavily, crawling. He was shaking, breathing and sweating at the same time. The Haradrim just wanted to get away and crawled on, but something stopped him however.

"Where do ya think you're going." Rhând stared into a pair of eyes, reflecting pure evil. "Can't find yer way? Lost, maybe?"

09-11-2004, 07:22 AM	#152
Novnarwen Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Apr 2003 Location: In your mouth... Eeeew, by the way. :P Posts: 517	Rhând He cursed loudly, using the foulest words he could pronounce. Seven Orcs against two women: how could the outcome - both the women had escaped from the incident alive and unharmed, - be possible, Rhând asked himself. He cursed again. "Stupid twits! Useless idiots!" He groaned, shaking with rage. In order to escape himself, he had jeopardised everything he longed for. Now, he couldn’t possibly return to the prisoners. If Darash and Lyshka found Grash, they would certainly tell him about the attack, and if they had seen Rhând, they would tell Grash about that too. It was too risky, way too risky. He was alone now. There was no one, except the Orcs, swarming around. How long could he manage to stay in this costume and avoid revealing himself? Knowing that at some point, the lousy costume would cause suspicion and his true self would be revealed, he hurried out of the crowd, cursing again. For how long could he go on like this? If Rhând was to find an ally amongst the Orcs, how could he be able to convince them anyway? Shaking his head, cursing his misfortune, he realised the facts: he didn’t look like a Haradrim, and would certainly be taken as a Gondorian spy and they would kill him instantly, unless... Yes, of course. He knew where the others were heading. He knew their route. Grinning to himself, he remembered the conversation with Grash, where he had asked specifically about the route. The route will be the key to my freedom, the key to Him. It will grant me my wish, my desire. I will finally again be His faithful servant. He frowned. If he was to carry out this plan, he would havr wait for the right moment to strike, even though it would take some time. * The day grew older. Slowly, the minutes and hours passed by. Rhând had wandered around and about, choosing his own path. He knew where the others were heading, but he needed allies. He couldn't do this alone, not now if his cover was blown. The situation he found himself in, reminded him of the cell in the Tower, where he had been held for many months. He'd been alone there too, except when some of the Orcs had paid him a visit now and then. He didn't speak to anyone, and none spoke to him; a strange silence, just like it had been in the Tower. There were only sounds, such as the hissing from the breeze coming in from his window, the Orcs jabbering and the rats squeaking; sounds he didn't really listen to. All in all, he was completely alone. Wandering slowly, his feet aching, he tried figuring where he was supposed to go. The prisoners were heading for Ithilien. He knew that much. But where was Ithilien? Which direction? Being a person with little sense of locality, he again reminded himself of that he needed allies. He couldn't wait long either; he needed someone now. "Come on, you lazy and useless apes! Move!" He turned. A voice, here? Shaking with fear, he threw himself behind a group of stones and made himself as small as possible. "Move it, I said!" The ground trembled. Heavy feet were about. Rhând didn't move. He didn't dare. Who was heading this way, his way, whichever way it was? The sound of the armours, made Rhând drop dead. Orcs probably, he thought. I have to get moving myself, he thought, knowing that Orcs in general had a very good sense of smell. Crawling, hearing that whoever it was approached quickly, he became aware of his own Orcish armour and how much sound it made. Scared stiff now, he listened to the Orcs stop. "Did you hear that?!" The voice reflected a brutality that scared the poor Haradrim so much that he actually wished he was back in his cell. At least, he had been somewhat safe there. He always knew what would happen to him at all times. If there were footsteps approaching his cell, he knew someone would come in, he would be beaten. Now, on the other hand, there were footsteps too, but he didn't know exactly who it was, and what would happen to him if he was caught. "That ain't no rate or mouse, Lurg! That's something far bigger. Fresh flesh. Human maybe?" "I second that! Maybe, it's them; those petty prisoners. I'll give 'em in. I've my blade ready! Find 'em now!" Hearing this, Rhând panicked. He began to crawl in the sandy ground as fast as he could, wanting to escape this horrible Lurg. He breathed heavily, crawling. He was shaking, breathing and sweating at the same time. The Haradrim just wanted to get away and crawled on, but something stopped him however. "Where do ya think you're going." Rhând stared into a pair of eyes, reflecting pure evil. "Can't find yer way? Lost, maybe?" Last edited by Novnarwen; 09-11-2004 at 10:32 AM.