[Valesse]

(This one is going to be long!)

The ent has passed her without notice, and having had a cold night sleep the Arnorian rose to an early start which led her away from the mountains (where she was tempted to eat snow) and into the hills. Noticing her water to be on the low side, Valesseka cursed not filling up at the Anduin. Fortunately, in sight was another stream which looked to be fresh and good for replentishing her supply. Travelling to it, however, was rough, and even though she was away from the icy blasts of the mountains Valesseka kept herself bundled up warm. Almost to the stream she heard a noise which sounded very foreign to her, looking to see what it was, her breath caught up in her throat. Orcs. And not just a few, either...

As silently as she could, the girl backed away until she felt safe enough to run for her life. Hide... got to find a place to hide. I'm not getting in the middle of any orkish business. Forgetting the stream, Valesseka came across Amon Sul. She had heard about it from travellers as it had been the subject to many debates between the three portions of Arnor. At the moment, the fortress looked fairly war-torn, apparently recently sacked and still in the midst of rebuilding. It... must have been those orcs... They ravaged it last night I guess... It should be safe.

Catiously Valesseka arrived, but not without notice. Her glittering brooch amidst the unwashed carnage and debris drew eyes toward her, and it wasn't long at all before one of the men approached her.

"You... You're just in time. Our captain has fallen to the orc band, and..." he choked up, clearly he was close to the man, "We need a commander or the hill will fall."
"But..." Valesseka looked dreadfully confused, "I can't command a fortress."
"Of course you can! You are a noble man of Arnor! And if you don't... all will be lost!"
Valesseka glared daggers at the rather dramatic officer who was fortunate enough not to catch it. I am a woman of Arnor. Woman! And where does he get off that I'm nobility? Hastening her garbs she cleared her throat to announce that she was not who ever it was they were expecting, but was stopped short by a battered sword being thrust at her. The officer looked the girl in the eyes, clearly intending that she receive it "If you don't, the tower will fall, my lord."

Whining ever so slightly, Valesseka wrapped her hand around the hilt. It was suprisingly heavy, but for appearances she kept it held high. I'm a beautiful woman, why can't they see that? The officer smiled lightly and hurried away. This confused Valesseka even further, as she was not sure at this point where to go, what to do, or what had just happened exactly. The orcs attacked them last night, I know that... why do they want a leader so desperately, then? And why did he call me -lord-!? It hit her. The orc band she had seen on her way to Amon Sul were going to strike again tonight. With a terrible shudder she sat down. "Too many orcs..." she mumbled numbly.

A voice cut in "seventy-five." Valesseka looked over at the guard. He was also sitting, but in contrast to her and the rest of the guards looked rather calm. "And now there are only fifty of us." He turned to Valesseka with a piteous look "What do you think the Halls of Mandos look like?"

Okaaay, thats the end of that conversation. Gracefully she shook her head and stood, manuvering through the rubble and carcasses. Valesseka found the officer again, he had collected the other remaining officers and for a long while the men stood staring at the Arnorian girl. "...Well?" She said at length, before each man launched into his own battle plan. Apparently the orcs had been attacking in waves for the last few nights, and though the men have been getting better and better at defending their tower from this sort of strategy, the captain had fallen to an orkish arrow.

"If that guard knew what he was talking about... the numbers, that is, we're out numbered by..." She imagined counting vegitables "twenty-five. It's possible to delete their presence but..." There was a very distant rumbling sound, and Valesseka looked around in a panic, but here there could be no avalanche. The rumble could only mean one thing: the orc army was on the move toward Weathertop Hill. Straightening up, Valesseka shouted commands, acting more on her own protection than for the tower's. "You," She pointed at the first officer, "figure out how they are advancing toward us. Everyone else inform the men that they should be prepared. Light torches around this place... we want to see them if they break in."

The day was nearing dusk, and the orcs were arriving. First the archers started showering the tower with arrows. Somewhat safely behind a large barrier, Valesseka announced that her men should return fire. Fifteen or so orcs fell, and only eight of her's. Once she had calculated this, however, the orcs were at the wall, swinging and snarlling and making all sorts of terrible noises. "Keep the doors blocked in! I don't care ho-" *clack!*

Valesseka turned around and saw two funny little extrusions over the stone she was hiding behind, looking over the edge she squeaked. A ladder! The first officer acted instantly in pushing it over which proceeded in destroying the orcs on it. The orcs had brought five ladders in each group that marched toward Amon Sul, along with five archers each. She instructed that her archers focus on the orkish archers, and let the handmen take care of whatever clambered over the walls.

The door broke with a resounding clamour, and the calamity that followed became the end of serveral of her men. Swept into the battle, Valesseka ran toward the door, shouting furiously that at least twenty should follow her and help retake the passage. Her archers aimmed for the mass of orcs collected at the enterance, and successfully eliminated a fair number of invaders. However the strength of the door did not hold, and like a thin sheet of wood, snapped in half allowing a trickle of orcs inside. Salavating with bloodthirst, the orcs swung their swords sloppily compared to their previous war-formality in the advancing on the fortress.

A terrible noise came from behind her, one of the ladders remained upright long enough for a smaller orc to penetrate the defenses. With a nasty smirk at Valesseka's terrified face, it thrust it's sword at her, only to miss (Ladies being thinner in build) her flesh entirely. Pulling back his weapon, the girl swung hers, slapping, rather than cutting, his face with the blade. Nevertheless it was effective. Valesseka took a moment to check to see if he were actually dead or not before barking orders to maintain the tower walls better. The orcs were not quite as successful as the humans tonight, and for the first time in a long time, the humans were finally out numbering them.

"You two, collect these...arrows and bring it up the the archers." She pointed at a few bodies. She was stunned at her behavior. She didn't want to be in a battle, commanding it was out of the question, and yet here she was. The battle raged on, and the orcs ran out of archers, so too her archers ran out of arrows. Over the course of the battle Valesseka commensed in her own spars only a few times, most incurring injuries. I'm not built for battle. she'd repeat to herself over and over. I'm not a lord of Arnor. I'm a girl. I'm a beautiful girl. Deep inside, she felt hurt that the orcs didn't even seem to notice that.

Around midnight the carnage had ended. The orcs retreated with a quarter of their original band, and the Weathertop guards mantained half of their starting number. It was a fair enough advantage that the orcs would not soon attempt another raid, and that was comfort enough for Valesseka.

Wincing, she used the last of her athelas on her wounds, and the last of her water. In thanks for 'his' contribution the men of the tower replentished her supplies and offered housing for the night. She wasn't soon to pass that by, even if they were obviously blind to her gorgeous visage.