Now or Never [Nida][June 3010]
Oct 26, 2017 23:37:45 GMT -5
Post by Wyn on Oct 26, 2017 23:37:45 GMT -5
Even in the most verdant times of the year, Mordor was hardly a pleasant place to be. "Spring" was a very short phenomenon here, with a cold, dry winter rapidly giving way to a hot, humid summer. The grainfields would soon begin to sprout again, coaxed up from the volcanic soil by the hundreds of slave-farmers kept here. Deep down, Wyn knew it was futile to try and free them all--it just wasn't possible for one scrawny renegade to accomplish on her own. A few dozen, though, saved in twos and threes over the years? That wouldn't be too paltry a legacy to leave behind, especially if she got to raise a whole lot of hell along the way.
She had been watching the farming camp for several days now. From her vantage in the nearby hills, wrapped in her mottled cloak, she had studied the movements of the handful of uruk guards, as intently as a beast stalking its prey. They were placid, lazy, spending their days swilling grog and kicking the slaves around. This deep into Mordor, there was nothing for them to guard against--after all, what stinking manflesh would be stupid enough to venture this far into their territory?
One stinking manflesh in particular, as it was. She had already begun to set them against eachother, doing anything she could to disrupt and unsettle them, probing for any signs of weakness. Any weapons left laying around vanished into the early-morning fog, and the mysterious disappearance of an entire ration of grog had nearly brought two of the guards to blows. One might have thought that purposefully unnerving the guards and causing them to be more alert was counter-productive, but Wyn knew orcs. A jumpy, itchy-knife-fingered orc was a stupid orc, and a stupid orc was a predictable orc.
Besides, it was fun. There were few things more satisfying than duping a bunch of musclebound monsters, and entertainment was hard to come by in her life.
The biggest unknown variable, however, was not the uruk, but the slaves themselves. She could distract the guards, give them an opportunity to run, but it was never a sure thing if they would take it or not. Sometimes she would doff her cloak and armor and slip into their midst, acting the part of a cowed and broken slave when the guards were watching. When they weren't, she'd plot and plan with the braver slaves, devising ways to slip past the guards. She hadn't had the chance to do so this time around, and so her presence was currently unknown to both parties. She could only hope that when the time came, they would have the nerve to make a break for freedom.
She had been waiting for an opportunity to make her move, and the arrival of a summer thunderstorm would mark that opportunity. The rains, once they began falling, would wash away the scent and tracks of the fleeing slaves, making it harder for them to be hunted down. With dark clouds rolling overhead and the distant echo of thunder on the air, she slowly approached the camp, low to the ground and hidden by the foliage around her. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and each nerve was fired with equal parts fear and anticipation.
She got lucky with the first guard at the edge of the field. Bored and half-dozing, the orc didn't notice the girl creeping up to slice a blade across his throat before it was too late. Before she could stifle him, however, he managed a choked cry as his body crumpled into the bushes, alerting two nearby. They turned with a start, staring suspiciously at the place their companion had just been. Hidden in the underbrush, Wyn growled quietly as she heard them call out, knowing that the following silence would draw them to investigate. As the sound of approaching boots drew closer, she hunkered down, gathering her nerve and waiting for the right moment to break cover.
Any who happened to be looking in that direction would see the two guards leap back with a shout as a cloaked blur exploded from the underbrush, heading for the camp at a dead sprint. They wasted no time in charging after her, however, their bellows raising the alarm to the other two remaining uruk. Wyn could spare little attention to the reactions of the slaves, and for the moment could only hope they'd take the opportunity to bolt now that the guards were occupied doing their best to chase her down. Staying ahead of a pack of orcs wasn't the difficult part here. Losing them in the wilderness and then somehow finding the scattered slaves would be the challenge.
She had been watching the farming camp for several days now. From her vantage in the nearby hills, wrapped in her mottled cloak, she had studied the movements of the handful of uruk guards, as intently as a beast stalking its prey. They were placid, lazy, spending their days swilling grog and kicking the slaves around. This deep into Mordor, there was nothing for them to guard against--after all, what stinking manflesh would be stupid enough to venture this far into their territory?
One stinking manflesh in particular, as it was. She had already begun to set them against eachother, doing anything she could to disrupt and unsettle them, probing for any signs of weakness. Any weapons left laying around vanished into the early-morning fog, and the mysterious disappearance of an entire ration of grog had nearly brought two of the guards to blows. One might have thought that purposefully unnerving the guards and causing them to be more alert was counter-productive, but Wyn knew orcs. A jumpy, itchy-knife-fingered orc was a stupid orc, and a stupid orc was a predictable orc.
Besides, it was fun. There were few things more satisfying than duping a bunch of musclebound monsters, and entertainment was hard to come by in her life.
The biggest unknown variable, however, was not the uruk, but the slaves themselves. She could distract the guards, give them an opportunity to run, but it was never a sure thing if they would take it or not. Sometimes she would doff her cloak and armor and slip into their midst, acting the part of a cowed and broken slave when the guards were watching. When they weren't, she'd plot and plan with the braver slaves, devising ways to slip past the guards. She hadn't had the chance to do so this time around, and so her presence was currently unknown to both parties. She could only hope that when the time came, they would have the nerve to make a break for freedom.
She had been waiting for an opportunity to make her move, and the arrival of a summer thunderstorm would mark that opportunity. The rains, once they began falling, would wash away the scent and tracks of the fleeing slaves, making it harder for them to be hunted down. With dark clouds rolling overhead and the distant echo of thunder on the air, she slowly approached the camp, low to the ground and hidden by the foliage around her. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and each nerve was fired with equal parts fear and anticipation.
She got lucky with the first guard at the edge of the field. Bored and half-dozing, the orc didn't notice the girl creeping up to slice a blade across his throat before it was too late. Before she could stifle him, however, he managed a choked cry as his body crumpled into the bushes, alerting two nearby. They turned with a start, staring suspiciously at the place their companion had just been. Hidden in the underbrush, Wyn growled quietly as she heard them call out, knowing that the following silence would draw them to investigate. As the sound of approaching boots drew closer, she hunkered down, gathering her nerve and waiting for the right moment to break cover.
Any who happened to be looking in that direction would see the two guards leap back with a shout as a cloaked blur exploded from the underbrush, heading for the camp at a dead sprint. They wasted no time in charging after her, however, their bellows raising the alarm to the other two remaining uruk. Wyn could spare little attention to the reactions of the slaves, and for the moment could only hope they'd take the opportunity to bolt now that the guards were occupied doing their best to chase her down. Staying ahead of a pack of orcs wasn't the difficult part here. Losing them in the wilderness and then somehow finding the scattered slaves would be the challenge.
