waking afresh in the morning Valandil quickly roused Empirius. Today would see the beggining of their journey to Raynon, a small town on the outskirts of Edoras. There had been talk of troubles with the wild men and he knew well enough that the new Queen of Rohan was still busying herself with the restoration of other towns. He had met Queen Eowyn once and thought very highly of her, she cared for her people more than most would understand. He also knew that Lord Faramir was currently on his way to Gondor with tidings of the westfolds restoration to King Ellasar. He hoped their journey wouldn't take more then a few days but with some of the passages being blocked he couldn't be sure.

Oddly enough, Empirius didn't find it difficult to rise that morning. Having camped out in the open many more times than he had slept in a four-poster bed, he had found a night's rest in the Prancing Pony's much-too-comfortable room more unusual than restful. Gathering his belongings—which were few, since he travelled light, carrying only the essentials he would need on his travels—he turned to Valandil. "Old habits die hard. Even after a night at an inn, we depart at the crack of dawn," he said with a wry smile. "All the better. We'd best make haste for Raynon if we're to make good headway before nightfall." 

"Indeed. Its at least a 4 days ride from here, we'll stop at Rivendell tonight for provisions and rest." Said Valandil, With that the two headed down stairs passed their compliments on to old Barliman and headed around back to retrieve their steeds.

Much to Empirius's approval, the horses had been kept well overnight, and were fed and refreshed in readiness for the long trip ahead. Giving his horse a friendly pat on the head as he approached, Empirius stowed his gear then hoisted himself onto the saddle. The first rays of the rising sun were just entering through the stable's open door, casting Empirius and Valandil in a warm red-orange glow. The air was cool and crisp, and Empirius couldn't think of a better morning to begin a new journey. Gently urging his horse out onto the cobbled path outside, Empirius drew in a deep breath, then turned to Valandil. "Every voyage has a new dawn -- and I can't think of one more promising than this."

Valandil had remembered the last time Empirius had said that, it had went down a treat at the time... Until they had been ambushed by a gang of angry wild men, then a group of orcs then by the people Empirius had drunkenly insulted while contending in a drinking game which ended as a draw. It had only been a draw becuase Empirius had punched out the last contender then collapsed to the floor. Come to think of it Valandil couldn't remember the last time they were in a pub and DIDN'T brawl at some point. As they rode on he decided to bring his musings out in the open. "Empirius my friend, when was the last time we left a tavern peacefully?"

Raising his eyebrow, Empirius cast a sidelong glance at Valandil. "When was the last time?" he said. "I don't think there was ever a first time that we left a tavern peacefully. It seems our lot to always encounter some form of unfriendly company." He shrugged. "Not that it's any fault of ours."


"indeed not, the time you called that mans wife "a bloated hog" was not your fault. A simple slip of the tongue I presume? well I suppose he did throw the first punch so the blame can't be placed totally upon you" added Valandil, trying not to laugh.

Empirius smiled smoothly. "A simple breakdown in communication, I assure you, as happens often in these parts. I did not mean as much offence as she clearly took from it." He shrugged. "Plus, I did try and apologize, but no...they didn't want any of that. Her husband just lashed out like an unrestrained balrog."

Valandil laughed. He knew the humour would keep their spirits high. Although not wholey welcome in Rivendell they would often stop there. Elrond had permitted them there even after they were outcast. A fine wine, a book and comfortable bed was all Valandil could ask for tonight.

With a flick of the reins, Empirius sent his horse forward at a canter, Valandil bringing his own steed alongside. The shafts of early-morning sunlight stretched their shadows across the uneven ground as they made their way out into the valley and on to Rivendell. It was a long journey and a treacherous one, as rumours had been circulating of rogue riders who attacked and plundered unsuspecting travellers. With his sword firmly strapped to his side, Empirius resolved that he would not be one of those victims. Since being exiled, he and Valandil had come to know the land of Middle-earth and were under no illusions that the rough trails between villages and towns were a safe place. Without the safety of a permanent place of residence, the world had become their home -- but they nevertheless knew to watch their backs.

After a few hours riding they stopped and decided to stretch their legs. Suddenly there came a cry from within the forest and a dozen people came out screaming. Valandil gave a look of confusion to Empirius and quickly charged over to question the mob on the ruckus. Valandil approached a young lady, "what is happening? are you introuble?" the women looked up in terror, "Wargs sire! they attacked a group of us while we were collecting kindling in the forest!" Valandil exchanged a glance with Empirius. Empirius quickly drew his sword and charged in Valandil following.

A scene of unbridled chaos met Empirius almost as soon as he reached the trees. The forest was filled with people, some running and screaming and others frozen with terror. The faces of all were ashen white. Not fifty metres in, the forest opened up into a small clearing where the townsfolk had been collecting wood, and Empirius felt his jaw clench as he saw the half-dozen bodies that littered the ground, their clothes shredded and bloodied, their flesh ripped and mauled. Crashing over the dropped kindling that lay scattered on the ground, a pack of wargs snarled and roared, their fangs dripping with saliva and their eyes flashing with bloodlust. Bounding in great strides, they chased down the men and women still trying to flee, knocking them to the ground with powerful strokes of their forepaws.
   Being the only ones trying to enter the forest rather than escape it, Empirius and Valandil immediately caught the wargs' attention. Furred ears pricking up, the wargs ceased their merciless pursuit of the innocents and turned to face the newcomers. For a moment, they simply stared, sizing up the two elven rangers.
   Then, with an earsplitting roar, the pack charged.

Instinctively, Empirius unsheathed his sword and took up a defensive stance. There was little time for anything else, as the warg bounded towards him at full pelt, leaping forward, claws extended. Sidestepping, Empirius narrowly missed being knocked to the ground, and he whirled around to see the creature preparing for another strike. Taking the opportunity, Empirius drew a small dagger from a second sheath on his belt and sent it spinning through the air; the shimmering blade embedded itself deep within the warg's throat. Howling, the creature reared its head back one final time before slumping forward, the light of life fading from its eyes.

Valandil drew his bow and placed an arrow on the string, taking aim he managed to dispatch one of the attackers. Having little time before the wargs were totally upon them Valandil threw down his bow and ran to Empirius. "how many do you see?" asked Valandil.

"About half a dozen - but it's hard to get an exact count," Empirius said through gritted teeth as he swept the area with his eyes, ever alert for the next warg attack. "But they don't seem to be following the townspeople out of the forest. If we can hold them off until everyone is clear, then we can either deal with them or make a break for it ourselves."

"I think we should deal with them, try and keep one alive to question. This attack isn't chance" Valandil thought for a moment. Something was out of the norm. "no soliders" he said slowly "ever since the end of the war I thought every group of people out of town was to be guarded?"

Frowning, Empirius cast around and soon realised that Valandil was right. The fleeing villagers had been in the forest on their own, despite the dangers of travelling into the lawless lands without a guard.
   "There are no bodies," Empirius observed, motioning the ground on which only fallen civilians lay. There were no soldiers to speak of. "That means either the escort fled - or there was never one to begin with..."
   Grimly, Empirius suspected the latter. If there had been an escort, then they would have been more than capable of dealing with a marauding pack of wargs.

"something is out of place in these lands... After we finish these beasts off we shall escort these people back to Edoras. It is on our way after all." Valandil prepared himself for battle though remained feeling uneasy. "here hey come!" he yelled. He adopted his combat stance and prepared for the nearest enemy.

As Empirius expected, the warg attack was disorganized. Despite being pack beasts, they rarely worked as a group, and when they charged, they did so without any tactics to speak of. Some of them even collided with each other as they made for the two elves standing ready to defend.
   Sidestepping the first warg with the grace of a practised swordsman, Empirius made a vertical slice downward as the beast passed, driving his blade deep into its back. The warg spasmed briefly before letting out an earsplitting howl and collapsing to the ground. 

the second charged Valandil, he noticed it was wearing heavy armour could take more than one whack he thought as the warg ran at him full pace. Only at the end did the orc realise its mistake. Valandil sliced the legs of the warg as it was almost upon him. the creature let out a loud howl before falling to its side crushing his attacker Valandil quickly finished the wretched beast. the key to victory in battle.. improvisation Valandil smiled, it had been drummed into them by the blademaster when they were young and learning the arts of war. Valandil quickly came back to his senses as a warg took a bite at him, he dodged and drove his sword through its skull. no time to reminisce he thought to himself.

Another warg charged Empirius, and this time, rather than sidestep, he waited for the warg to leap at him. As the filthy creature sailed through the air, Empirius raised his sword, pointing its tip towards the warg's exposed underbelly. The next thing he heard was an horrific popping sound and a drawn-out squelch before hot blood spurted into his face. Twisting in the air, the force of Empirius's blow caused the warg to miss its target and thud to the ground next to Empirius. His expression grim, Empirius withdrew his sword from the twitching corpse, wiped his face quickly with his sleeve, then turned to face the next attacker. Of the half-a-dozen wargs, only three now remained...


Valandil noticed one of the Wargs drawing a Bow from its back. He charged forward but had slightly mistimed it. The Orc fired a shot and Valandil parried it. He ran forward once moreand reached the warg in time. In the few seconds before the warg was about to jump at him he came up with a plan. The warg lept forward and Valandil jumped to the side of it and grabbed the reins. He swung unto the saddle feet first knocking the orc from its place. He then charged the warg at another one, spurring it on with the flat of his sword.

As Valandil dealt with two of the three remaining wargs, Empirius busied himself with the last. The orc rider was bringing his warg around for a charge, levelling his sword for a swift strike at Empirius's neck.
   Never taking his eyes off his opponent, Empirius reached into one of his robe's deep pockets and produced a small, battered pouch, tied with a ragged string. Around the fastened opening, a small amount of black powder had leaked out.
   Wasting no time, Empirius produced a small fire-starter from second pocket, and proceeded to light the pouch's drawstring. As soon as the material lit, he hurled the pouch towards the oncoming warg.
   Moments later, there was a bright flash and a burst of searing heat; the sound of an explosion rent the air, and when Empirius next looked, the warg and its rider were blackened and smouldering, neither of them moving.
   Empirius nodded in sober satisfaction. Knew that blast-power would come in handy sometime.