Ransom motioned for Elwyn and Elanor to stop. Something was not right. They had been walking for nearly an hour with no end in sight. The orcs they had met seemed to be far more interested in killing their target than their own safety. This ran counter to all of his experience. Orcs were far more interested in saving their own skin than continuing a failed assault. Something was amiss, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
That cursed elf began to struggle again. Ransom groaned inwardly before stopping. “Ladies, mayhap we could rest for a few minutes? This burden appears to be showing signs of life, and my arms are rather tired of dragging her. Perhaps we should think of a better plan for transporting this heretic.”
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"The blood of the dead mixes with the the flowing sand and grants more power to the killer."--Gaara of the Desert
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