[CaptainofDespair]

The day slowly dragged on, with little excitement save for the finding of those of Dale. The snow had become the main attraction for a great many of those in the host. This was not because it was some new and wonderful sight, but rather due to it being the only sight, save for the trees, which hung heavy with the very same element as that which laced the ground. There were not even any game animals to be seen, and there were no birds in the sky. It was quiet, and eerily so. It put many on the edge, but the silence itself fell on deaf ears.

The column had come to a short rest, and Uther perched himself on a newly fallen tree, which was seemingly overburdened with the snow. There he sat, surrounded by many, yet alone within. After some discussion within himself, Uther felt a desire to speak with another. The closest man to him was Sjorging, one of those who had been ‘rescued’ from the marauding orcs. Slowly, Uther gained momentum, and struck up a conversation with the man.

As Uther approached, he started to speak. “You do not seem pleased with the sending of the King’s troops.” Sjorging seemed a bit startled by this, and after a few awkward moments, replied with a bit of irritation lingering on his lips. “No, I am only displeased with such a meager showing of force by King Elessar. I had expected more troops, or at least better troops.” Sjorging paused, trying to relax himself, and kept from inhaling too much of the cold air. “Had Elessar sent better, I would gladly show proper respect to those who bear his banner.” The remark sent a twinge of anger through Uther. He replied, with the utmost self-control he could muster, yet bearing an almost angered tone. “You will show the proper respect to these soldiers, whether you think highly of them or not. They are here not because they wish to be, but because they must, as it is their duty. Am I understood?” Sjorging could only nod. After another bout of awkward silence, the two decided to speak again, only on more friendly terms, with Uther uttering the first words. “So, do you wish to remain with the host, as we travel to Gundabad, or would you rather flee to Esgaroth? Sjorging shrugged, and scanned his surroundings. After a few more minutes of the silence, which both had seemingly become accustomed to, Sjorging spoke a single phrase. “You will have my answer tomorrow.”

Uther and Sjorging parted ways after their meeting, staying a good distance from each other the rest of the night. But the day was not yet over, and there were still some unresolved matters to attend to. The man the scouts had found, Ingemar, still needed to be questioned, and that was the lieutenant’s next mission. He wandered around the makeshift camp for a time, searching for the man, but to no avail. Finally, Uther decided it was time to inquire upon the whereabouts of the man. The first few guards he questioned had only vague ideas, and that wasn’t much help. After a few moments of the tiresome inquisition, he posed the question once more, to one of his more experienced soldiers, Mordred. “Have you seen that odd man, Ingemar?” The soldier was taken off guard a moment, but managed to conjure up a response. “Yessir, he’ssss overrr there, with the lady we founddd...” Though the response was slurred a bit, due in part to the cold, and maybe the trooper’s small ration of ale, Uther picked up the gist, and departed.

The scene the commander came upon, was not one he expected. The lady, Adranel, was lying on the ground, with the man over her, and it appeared he was preparing to strike her. Without hesitance, Uther lurched forward, his chainmail swishing and clacking with his movements. He grabbed Ingemar’s hand, and held him firmly, refusing to allow him to strike the young woman. “What do you think you’re doing?” Uther was obviously a tad irate with the situation. The man just sat there, his arm hanging in the air. Uther demanded a response to his question again, “What do you think you’re doing?”. Still, the man sat. After a bit of the wrangling continued, Uther ordered his soldiers to put him under a guard, and keep him from wandering about, and refuse all visitations for him. After Ingemar had been dealt with, Uther realized he had in fact attempted to assault the lady. He turned round, and reached his hand down to her, uttering a few words. “Are you all right, milady? Are you injured at all?” She looked up at him, returning his kind gaze with a grim, seemingly uncaring look. She rose from the ground, without his help, and walked off, away from the staring eyes of the other soldiers. Uther shrugged, and ordered his men to return to their posts, and leave the woman be.

**************************

The cold, wet darkness of the night dragged on for forever, or seemingly so. Uther tossed and turned through the night, unable to sleep on the hard ground the host had camped on. He didn’t dream much, even when he did manage to scrape together a meager portion of sleep. In the middle of the night, sweating and cold, he arose from his tent, and went out to stare into the vast shadows that were formed from the gloom of night. His breath rose from his chapped lips, swirling into the air, and finally dissipating into the nothingness that loomed above. The sentries ignored their commander for the most part, and left him to the serene black that the night offered.
Staring out into the cold shadows, he thought only of his prey, the orcs whom he was to hunt. Soon, his thoughts echoed from his lips, lightly forming on his tongue, only to disappear into the void, that hung like a woolen blanket before him. “Where are you? Where are you hiding?” He continued muttering the same phrase to himself, repetitively. After some time, he had expended enough energy to return to his tent, and fall back into sleep. He hoped the morning would bring more comfort.

~*~

Unfortunately for Uther, his morning was the same, but now he had his soldiers to order around, forcing his mind to be less at ease, and putting him into a faint sense of dulled watch. He wandered around the camp, slowly at first, inspecting his troops, and seeing to it that the supplies were properly loaded onto the pack animals. After this mentally taxing job was fulfilled, he saw to it that the men were readied for the march, and put into formations. Ingemar was placed under a careful watch towards the front of the column, and Sjorging and his companions were brought into the fold, having been issued some spare military equipment. Yet, before he could give the order to set out, he quickly checked the scout reports. He turned to one of his underlings, and motioned for him to speak with the unit commanders. “Ah, so the Orcs are out there. Maybe we shall see battle on this day.” When his commanders had been informed, he gave the final order, and the column began to rumble forward, out into the snowy plains of Dale.

As the Column continued to advance, scouts came in at regular intervals, some reporting of the Orcs, others not. But Uther, by now, was only interested in where the Orcs were, and when he received news that they were heading towards one of his way points on the march route, he smirked a wry, slightly malicious smile. His sergeants then began passing the word down, to be prepared for an Orc ambush...