I made friends with Hate. [November 3010][Talion]
Oct 16, 2017 22:05:21 GMT -5
Post by Wyn on Oct 16, 2017 22:05:21 GMT -5
The life of a Nurn slave-farmer was not an easy one. Putting aside the brutal oppression, lack of decent food, and the eventual fate of being essentially worked to death, Mordor was a dangerous place to live. Rusty farming tools, a careless orc, a stray caragor catching someone alone after dark--"safety" was not something Wyn or her kinfolk had ever known. In the event someone did become sick or injured, they could expect no help from their captors, who would just as quickly put down an invalid than give them opportunity to rest and recover. Through the generations, they had learned how to utilize their limited resources and the few healing herbs that could be found in Mordor to give someone the best chance of recovery. Wyn had learned the basics of first aid at a young age, and these skills had managed to help her pull through on more than one occasion.
She was no healer, however, and the rate at which Adan's condition seemed to be worsening scared her more than she cared to admit. With every passing day, he became paler and gaunter. Those deep blue eyes were taking on an icy translucency, and he barely had the energy to stay awake long enough to take a bit of nourishment, whenever she could forage or hunt something for them. Several of his wounds were badly infected, the skin around them red and inflamed, but the stab wound the wraith's blade had inflicted worried her the most. The skin there almost seemed to be dying, devoid of blood or swelling. Despite her ministrations, the edges were beginning to turn dark, and she couldn’t understand why.
Frustration and fear churned her guts into a tangled mess as she scoured the woodlands of Ithilien for herbs, something--anything--to help him. She had left him tucked away safely in a forest hollow, as protective as any doe with a fawn, hidden from view by a woven nest of foraged boughs and from scent by a lining of pungent fallen autumn leaves. Promising the delirious elf that she’d be back soon, she had set out into the woods, delving into unfamiliar territory. The group sloped downwards underfoot here, and despite the heavy forest cover, she guessed she was entering a valley of sorts. Her intuition told her that she might find fresh water at the bottom, and if nothing else, perhaps she could refill her waterskin and try to cool Adan’s fevered brow. She had tried everything she could think of, but their location and lack of ability to prepare anything more than a simple poultice made her options painfully limited. As the day dragged on, her search proved fruitless, though if she had been paying attention, she might have noticed that the night seemed to be coming on more abruptly than it should have. Drowning in worry for her friend, the normally-vigilant renegade failed to see the dark shapes lumbering through the tangled woods, slowly closing in on her.
The crunch of a twig under an orc’s boot would save her at the last moment. She was kneeling to inspect an herb found growing under the leaf litter when the sound alerted her to approach. She looked about, then flung herself away with a yelp as a wicked-looking cleaver smashed into the ground where she had been crouching a moment ago. Snarling at his failed sneak-attack, the orc hefted his weapon and took another swing at the girl, who scrambled to her feet and jumped clear, only for the low swipe to chop deep into the muscle of her calf. She couldn’t stop the scream that ripped from her lips, but she had no intention of sticking around to prolong the fight. Each step was agony, but she did her best to stumble backwards and away from the orc, only to nearly run into another as he emerged from the shadows, cackling. “Going somewhere, rat?” snickered the wiry brute as two more appeared to flank him. She drew her knife and backed away as the four converged, one behind her and three before. “I hear tell some little thief was causing trouble not too long ago,” the orc continued, “somethin’ ‘bout helping a bunch a’ worthless slaves make a run for it, only t’ get caught doing it by one o’ the nazgul ‘emselves.” He shook his head in mocking dismay. “Bad luck, that. They ain’t the most merciful sort, are they?”
She had been hoping desperately that staying outside Mordor for a bit would let things cool down after the disastrous rescue attempt she had undertaken not too long ago. Evidently, she would have no such luck. “They’re saying you conjured an elf outta thin air to help you escape,” he added, then grinned in a manner that was more wolfish snarl than anything else. “but I don’t see no elf ‘round now.”
Adan. Thoughts of her injured friend caused fury to overrule fear for a moment, and she lunged at the orc like a striking serpent, aiming to slice his face with her knife. She was a better runner than she was a fighter, and if she could just get an opening to flee, then she had a chance of escaping. The orc was quicker than most of his kind, however, darting back so she overextended and threw herself off-balance, only to surge back with a punch to the gut that knocked her off her feet and threw her, stunned, to the ground. Pulling herself up into a kneeling position, she struggled to suck air back into her lungs while the orcs’ bellowing laughter rang out around her. “Must be a reward for bringing in’ someone who pissed off a wraith,” said one, leaning down to clamp a meaty hand around her neck and haul her back up, ignoring her choking protests. “though I doubt we gotta bring ‘em in in one piece. You lot hungry? It won’t be needing those legs for long.”
She was no healer, however, and the rate at which Adan's condition seemed to be worsening scared her more than she cared to admit. With every passing day, he became paler and gaunter. Those deep blue eyes were taking on an icy translucency, and he barely had the energy to stay awake long enough to take a bit of nourishment, whenever she could forage or hunt something for them. Several of his wounds were badly infected, the skin around them red and inflamed, but the stab wound the wraith's blade had inflicted worried her the most. The skin there almost seemed to be dying, devoid of blood or swelling. Despite her ministrations, the edges were beginning to turn dark, and she couldn’t understand why.
Frustration and fear churned her guts into a tangled mess as she scoured the woodlands of Ithilien for herbs, something--anything--to help him. She had left him tucked away safely in a forest hollow, as protective as any doe with a fawn, hidden from view by a woven nest of foraged boughs and from scent by a lining of pungent fallen autumn leaves. Promising the delirious elf that she’d be back soon, she had set out into the woods, delving into unfamiliar territory. The group sloped downwards underfoot here, and despite the heavy forest cover, she guessed she was entering a valley of sorts. Her intuition told her that she might find fresh water at the bottom, and if nothing else, perhaps she could refill her waterskin and try to cool Adan’s fevered brow. She had tried everything she could think of, but their location and lack of ability to prepare anything more than a simple poultice made her options painfully limited. As the day dragged on, her search proved fruitless, though if she had been paying attention, she might have noticed that the night seemed to be coming on more abruptly than it should have. Drowning in worry for her friend, the normally-vigilant renegade failed to see the dark shapes lumbering through the tangled woods, slowly closing in on her.
The crunch of a twig under an orc’s boot would save her at the last moment. She was kneeling to inspect an herb found growing under the leaf litter when the sound alerted her to approach. She looked about, then flung herself away with a yelp as a wicked-looking cleaver smashed into the ground where she had been crouching a moment ago. Snarling at his failed sneak-attack, the orc hefted his weapon and took another swing at the girl, who scrambled to her feet and jumped clear, only for the low swipe to chop deep into the muscle of her calf. She couldn’t stop the scream that ripped from her lips, but she had no intention of sticking around to prolong the fight. Each step was agony, but she did her best to stumble backwards and away from the orc, only to nearly run into another as he emerged from the shadows, cackling. “Going somewhere, rat?” snickered the wiry brute as two more appeared to flank him. She drew her knife and backed away as the four converged, one behind her and three before. “I hear tell some little thief was causing trouble not too long ago,” the orc continued, “somethin’ ‘bout helping a bunch a’ worthless slaves make a run for it, only t’ get caught doing it by one o’ the nazgul ‘emselves.” He shook his head in mocking dismay. “Bad luck, that. They ain’t the most merciful sort, are they?”
She had been hoping desperately that staying outside Mordor for a bit would let things cool down after the disastrous rescue attempt she had undertaken not too long ago. Evidently, she would have no such luck. “They’re saying you conjured an elf outta thin air to help you escape,” he added, then grinned in a manner that was more wolfish snarl than anything else. “but I don’t see no elf ‘round now.”
Adan. Thoughts of her injured friend caused fury to overrule fear for a moment, and she lunged at the orc like a striking serpent, aiming to slice his face with her knife. She was a better runner than she was a fighter, and if she could just get an opening to flee, then she had a chance of escaping. The orc was quicker than most of his kind, however, darting back so she overextended and threw herself off-balance, only to surge back with a punch to the gut that knocked her off her feet and threw her, stunned, to the ground. Pulling herself up into a kneeling position, she struggled to suck air back into her lungs while the orcs’ bellowing laughter rang out around her. “Must be a reward for bringing in’ someone who pissed off a wraith,” said one, leaning down to clamp a meaty hand around her neck and haul her back up, ignoring her choking protests. “though I doubt we gotta bring ‘em in in one piece. You lot hungry? It won’t be needing those legs for long.”