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The Road Out

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  • The Road Out

    A long walk to the Gates of the Sunderer made Sigrun realize: he wasn't going to be walking to Longsaddle ... especially not on a half hour of sleep. Twelve hundred stags convinced a coachman to part with two horses.

    Emelii said she couldn't ride; and given who she was, he was certain he'd hear about it yet again, and again when he handed her the reigns.

    Too bad.

    This was his trip, his ... duty. She would have to abide by his scheduling, grueling as it was looking to become.

    The sun had not yet crept over the top of the gate when he reached it, yet there crouched a small figure, still in the cold shadow cast by the wall. At least she was prompt. And ... wounded? He eyed the bandages that circled her midsection as he trod tiredly to her. Emelii looked up only enough to see his feet and pulled her hand from the dirt to stand slowly, a charactaristic frown marring her face.

    Sigrun regarded the girl for a time and she stared at the horses in tow, the frown not lessening.

    Still looking at the bandages he spoke:

    "What the hells have you been into, girl?"

    Her eyes moved to him.

    "None of your business." She then motioned to the horses.

    "Tha'ak, I told you I can't ride..."

    Now it was his turn to frown.

    "Take one leg and put it on the other side of the animal, it does the rest." Sigrun pointed back up the road away from the gate. "It aint too late to leave. But ... if yer comin and have any interest in bein a longrider, the first lesson starts here and ends in Longsaddle..." He said tossing her the reigns. Saddle up or don't, I'm leavin either way.

    After securing his pack ,the ranger swung himself onto his horse and turned it about to see Emelii climbing clumsily on to her mount. Both she and the horse were staring at him unhappily at this point.

    He checked his pack again then looked to his left and right letting out a low whistle. Nyx responded by trotting up and wagging his tail at them. Sigrun pointed ahead and snapped his fingers loudly at Emelii's horse as he urged his own on towards the gate. As her mount began to move beneath her ... the litany of curses that emanated in an unbroken stream from that sixteen year old girl's mouth could have curled a banshee's hair. He kept his head forward as he allowed himself a faint smile.

    He wanted to ask where Hulga was, but wouldn't find out until later on, when Emelii finally decided to say something not involving a curse or a threat: that she had sent him ahead because "he was making the squishies nervous"

    He looked up at the overcast sky. All together, an excellent start to an unwanted, ill-advised trip with uncertain company.
    ~ Sigrun Hael - Ranger of the Viridale

    ~ Aoden Haven - Former Swordcaptain

  • #2
    His eyes lost focus for a moment and began to drift across the sky. With momentus effort he pulled them back and settled them once more on the Tears of Selune. One, two, three: He began to count them again, trying to concentrate on something else other than the pain in his chest.

    --

    It had gone well, they had arrived in Longsaddle on time and Sigrun met with the Sharnshield clan. They had been happy to see him, oddly enough. Last time he had left, he had little desire to return. Everything had changed, they had thought him dead, lost to the Lurkwood. Nothing had seemed ... right ... anymore. Their faces were a mask of happiness, but there was still something undreneath, something that said he'd never be alive to them again. So he went back to the Lurkwood, and then nine years later, to Sundren.

    This time, though, they were actually happy to see him. Help was needed, and the orcs needed to be turned away from the outer ranches. Emelii had been surprisingly respectful and remained quiet during the planning phase of the raid.

    As Sigrun thought, he would be part of a small flanking force that would depart on foot, at dusk, before the battle. They were to circle around the orcs that were travelling south to meet the longriders. They were to find their main camp, raid and destroy every target of opportunity, then swing back in behind the main force and attack the orcs from behind as they were engaged.

    It all seemed to go well. Emelii stayed behind at the ranch with very little complaint ... only a handful of orcs were at the enemy camp and were wiped out before they could raise an alarm or send scouts to the main force.

    As the moon rose above the trees, Haversane Sharnshield led Sigrun and fifteen others in a brisk jog, easily following the tracks of the main force, who looked to number between ninety and one hundred and ten strong.

    They came upon the field where the battle was happening and kept low and quiet as they moved in. Then as a spear, the seventeen men drove into the orc's left flank from behind. As planned, a contingent of mounted longriders then wheeled about and charged the same flank, shattering it and pulling the enemy into a teeming glob at center as they sought to regroup.

    They would not have that chance. As he sprinted forward, Sigrun could see the dust rising from almost fifty horses charging the main formation from the south. He couldn't see it, but knew there'd be another from the west. Nothing much could be heard after that, just a long roar of sounds with no particular pitch or purpose.

    He remembered the familiar numbness in his shoulders as he swung his axes. The taste of orc blood that found it's way to his mouth. He remembered, vaguely standing up on two ocassions, swinging wildly, but not knowing why he had been on the ground.

    Then ... his head snapped to the side, both of his axes flew from his grasp and he bounced off the ground. Before he could raise his hands, the breath was forced from his lungs. A shower of upturned dirt flew across him, something stepped on his head, he couldn't get his arms free. He lost consciousness.

    --

    Forty six, forty seven ... his eyes searched and he lost count of the Tears of Selune again. What would Neera think when he didn't return? He remembered his promise to her and blinked hard. He would return, even if he had to crawl back to Sundren. He wanted nothing more than to have her here right now, she had a way about her that healed even the deepest wounds and most insistent pains. He groaned loudly as he tried to move, then saw a dark figure block out the moon.

    "Here! He's here!"

    Emelii Mistwalker knelt down grabbed his collar with both hands shaking him. He heard other footsteps approaching.

    Sigrun bared his teeth:

    "Where are my axes ... "

    Emelii's face contorted in annoyance and she looked behind her then she stood and hurried away. After a minute or two, a sharp pain gripped him as a great pressure was lifted lifted from his body.

    He slowly lifted his arms to his chest as Haversane and Emelii and a few others he couldn't make out came to stand above him. Then he felt a cold nose on his cheek an his eyes moved to see Nyx standing by his head, his tail faintly moving side to side.

    "Hidin under a dead horse while yer clan does all the work, aye?" Haversane said through a smile.
    "Get him up ... real gentle-like, and get him back to the ranch, he's in a bad way."

    Sigrun looked back up at the sky for a moment and closed his eyes. He felt Nyx pulling at his cloak.

    "Yer wolf led us to you, lucky bastard" Said another man who's voice Sigrun didn't know. "I need to get me one of those, aye?"

    Sigrun opened his mouth to deliver a retort, but only managed a weak smile as he let his consciousness slip with relief.
    ~ Sigrun Hael - Ranger of the Viridale

    ~ Aoden Haven - Former Swordcaptain

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