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Old 04-10-2007, 10:45 AM   #368
Hilde Bracegirdle
Relic of Wandering Days
 
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Carl

As Carl’s horse joined the knot of riders that gathered on the very verge of the slaver’s camp, he noticed that Beloan was casting looks about that were very dark indeed, quickly silencing anyone that so much as dared to whisper. The hobbit looked questioningly toward Lindir, and following the elf’s glance, guided his horse to the edge of the group in order to see what it was that held his attention. There just a few yards before them was not the camp’s guard, as he half expected, but rather an assemblage most grotesque. Misshapen forms sprawled in the dust, and Carl assumed they were long dead, their mouths gaping. But as he looked closer, the deathly pallor of some appeared broken by splotches of rosy red, where the sun had scorched them. And here and there the hobbit saw a jaw move, or an arm flail out at some invisible insect, and he came to the realization that these must be orcs. Strange ones sure enough, basking like cats in the sun.

Carl absently pushed back the curls that clung to his forehead as he digested this latest twist. He hadn’t reckoned on meeting any orcs so far from the mountains. Judging by all the accounts he was familiar with, he had only associated them with mountain passes of one sort or another. And to find them here came as a most unwelcome surprise. Frankly, after all the fighting and worry and sorrow, not to mention the empty stomach that groaned in his belly, he had neither the caution nor good sense he might have had otherwise, but waxed angry. No doubt the filthy brutes had rummaged though anything worth taking back to the injured. And most likely they had pawed through the food as well. Spitting as his stomach rumbled, he thought of their own limited supplies.

If only he had some notion of how deeply orcs dream! His eyes darted about the littered camp, seeking scattered stores. Perhaps he and the others could quietly gather what they needed and be off before they were discovered by the bleary-eyed monsters. Finally, spying the barrel that lay beside the orcs, his own weary eyes became fixed upon it as he awaited some direction to be given by those more familiar with the creatures than he.

Ah what a sorry shame this is! he thought to himself, as he wondered if any other casks might yet remain untouched…perhaps there in that tent sitting far away from the slumbering creatures. No, that plumb was sure to have been plundered! Bound to have been some leader’s quarters, with maps maybe…and medicine?

Last edited by Hilde Bracegirdle; 04-11-2007 at 02:09 PM.
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