Raid of Human Village

Sniffing the air Vraal could taste the stench. He lived for that smell...Humans. Vraal gazed through the early morning mist into the town below. He saw no movement from the towns residents. He assumed they were all asleep, but they would be waking soon enough. He had two things on his mind, killing, and ale. Ale being only slightly less important than killing. He assumed this quaint little village would have plenty of both.

The village, he noticed was divided into two distinct sides on either side of a main town square. Each side consisted of around five cottages, the north side of the town looked to have a small inn with what he assumed must be a tavern. He called over his small band of brethren and planned his assault.

"I want to split up into four groups and attack from the North, South, East, and West simultaneously. The group from the south will split up and take these two cottages here." He pointed to two rocks he had placed on the ground. "The team from the north will attack these two cottages here." He pointed to two other rocks. "The east will attack here, and the west will attack here. I will take you" He pointed at an Orc with a half visor helm. "and we will attack the Inn. Any questions?"

Ten minutes later the teams were all in position. Vraal gave the signal and like a wolf stalking the flock the Uruk-Hai went in for their kills.

"Mi'lord! A village in Rohan had been raided last night." Elendil turns around to meet the messenger eye to eye. "What? By whom?" "A band of uruk-hai lead by the name of an Uruk named Vraal."Elendil walks around his throne room in frantic movement. "Prepare a scout force consisting of about 250 Ithilien Rangers. They know how to track enemy movement. We need to find out where those bastards are. Perhaps they went to Isengard. Were there any survivors?" "No mi'lord... No survivors were found. The Tavern looted of all it's ale." Elendil then mumbles something the messenger cannot quite understand. "You are dismissed. Thank you."

Vraal stared blankly ahead through the smoke and ash in what used to be a quiet and well kempt village. "There are none still alive." A voice behind him growled. Vraal turned to see who had interrupted him, he stared at the young recruit for a few seconds before responding. "Good, round everyone up and meet me at the south side of the village. I have one more thing to take care of." The recruit turned and walked away and Vraal wandered in the direction of the Inn.

As he approached, the stench of burning human flesh filled his nostrils. He savored the delicious sent for a few brief moments before he continued on. He entered the Inn through what used to be the door before it got smashed to hundreds of pieces by his foot. The burned out husk of the once proud building was still smoking. He stood there looking around, wondering to himself where the ale was kept when he heard a faint whimper. He isolated the sound in the south east corner of the building and headed towards it. He pulled up a rug and saw a handle in the floor. A trap door. He opened the door and went down into the cellar below.

He could see clearly through the darkness and saw a young man huddled in the corner cowering in fear. Typical humans, cowards, everyone of them. He approached and stood over the man. He began to laugh. It clearly had a visible effect on the man, as he began to weep. Vraal gave a mighty yell that sent the man reeling against the wall. He laughed again. He grabbed the man by the throat and held him up. "Such a weak creature." He said, even though he knew the man couldn't understand the orc language. He dropped the man and unsheathed his vicious scimitar. With one swift swipe he severed the man's head, sending blood in all directions to splatter against the wall. Vrall stood there and took in the site, relishing in the smell, the taste, the red of the blood that was streaking down the brick. He picked up the mans head and looked around the room. He found what he was looking for, in the corner were four barrels of ale. He grabbed on in his other arm and walked up the stairs.

Out in the town square he found a pitchfork used by one of the helpless villagers to try and ward off the attack. He stuck the mans head on the end of it and stuck it into the ground. The shock and fright visible in the mans expression.

"Perfect" Vraal said to himself. He turned and walked away.

Elendil walked out of his chambers to meet Beregond, Captain of the Citadel Guard. He walked around the city, looking around his beautiful yet proud city. He greeted his people along the way, who admired him greatly. He reached the Citadel Guard House toward the Northeast end of the city. He walked in, greeted and saluted by his Citadel Guard who were caught off guard. "Mi'lord! Please forgive my attire. What do you command mi'lord?" "Haha... it is quite alright. I came to see Beregond for a report on the city. Have you seen him" Just then, he sees Beregond approaching. Beregond, quite startled, bows to Elendil. "Mi'lord! It is a great honor to see you here." Beregond turns to his men. "Please excuse us..." The men walk off in different directions, leaving the room quiet with piercing silience. "What you do you require?" Elendil turns his gaze toward the ceiling then onto the eyes of Beregond. "I have this feeling that I can't seem to shake off. You heard about the raid in Rohan correct? "Yes mi'lord, I have. Why so if I may ask?" Elendil sits down on a nereby stool. "I had a dream last night... I saw the slaughtering of my people. I am worried about these dark times. Mordor is getting stronger day-by-day. They captured Osgiliath in our protection, and ever since, the feeling in the air has been grim..." Beregond shifts uncomfortably. "Are you all right? We will take back Osgiliath. That is what we have been preparing for right? Elendil responds with a grim tone. "Any word from the Rangers tracking the Uruk-Hai raiders?" "No mi'lord... We haven't heard from them for quite some time..." Elendil then gets up, and just then, his scar ached him. Elendil swayed for a bit, then regained his balance. "Damn... my scar..." "Mi'lord! Are you all right?" "Yes... yes I am. All right... I will be going now. I need to prepare the army for battle to retake Osgiliath." Beregond bows with unending loyalty. "As you wish mi'lord!" Elendil walks out of the Guard House, leaving Beregond with his thoughts...

Cautiously peering over the crest of the hill Vraal weighed his options. He didn't like this, he didn't like it one bit. The humans had somehow heard about the raid on the village. They sent a party of roughly 250 men after their small band. "I don't fancy these odds." Vraal muttered to himself. He turned to his men. "We could surprise them, but I'm not so certain it would end well for us. There are too many of them." He thought for a moment. "We will wait until they setup camp at night fall. Give me an hour, I will formulate our plan."

Elendil watches the darkened sky. Mordor is clearly visible to his youthful eyes. Gudrun walks into the bedroom. "What is wrong my husband?" Elendil turns around with a graceful motion. "I have an uneasy feeling about that raiding party. I feel as though I condemned those Ithilien Rangers to their deaths..." "Think nothing of it... I will comfort you tonight." She puts her hands on his bulky chest and they lock onto each other's grasp. They interlock lips with each other, feeling Lady Gudrun's soft lips and smelling her beautiful blonde hair. They both thump atop the bed and make love to each other through the night...

The sound of crickets was the only thing Vraal could hear as he waited for everyone to get into position. He knew this wasn't going to end well for either side but he felt he had the advantage and wasn't about to let the humans think they could stop him from doing anything he liked. A runner approached him silently from behind. "Everyone is in position." "Good" Vraal replied "Begin the attack". With those words the Uruk-Hai exploded towards the human camp. From all sides came the fierce warriors, silent as wolves on the hunt. They entered the camp swiftly and slew two sentry guards caught completely by surprise. The second of the two made a small yelp as he fell. They swiftly went from tent to tent killing as many men as they could lay their hands. They needed to kill as many as possible before they were found and someone had the chance to raise the alarm. A man emerged from a tent and yelled "We are under attack! All men to ar-" He was cut short as a sword opened his throat, spilling his blood into a pool at his feet. Vraal himself was there, relishing in the sound of battle and the stench of death. All around him was chaos, men donning half of their armor emerged from their sleeping stupor with swords drawn. "Finally some humans with honor!" Vraal bellowed at the top of his lungs. He saw a man approaching him from his left and quickly thrusted his scimitar at the man's stomach, loosing his bowels to the ground. He put his foot on the mans chest, dislodged his blade, and looked for his next opponent. He saw a man running from behind with a spear but just a moment too late, the spear rushed toward his spine and as the tip met his armor the shaft splintered in two. Bewildered the man jumped back and drew his sword. Vraal gave a menacing laugh and severed the man's wrist. He then took his blade and with one swift move cut straight through the man's neck, throwing a fountain of blood into the chilly midnight air. More men emerged from their tents and joined the fight. Vraal couldn't help but grin, this is what life is all about.

The battle lasted well into the night. The humans fought with valor and honor. But in the end they were taken by surprise and could not overcome their misfortune. By the end of the night all 250 humans had been killed, most of their heads neatly displayed on pikes for those that find them. 40 of Vraal's 50 Uruk-Hai warriors lay slain.

He gathered those that remained. "We return to Mordor." was all he said, and with that he headed off into the darkness of the early morning.

Elendil woke from the previous night with eager unrest. He enjoyed the night he had with his beautiful wife... but it was quickly cut short. As he was getting ready for the day, one of the guards had burst into the room. "Mi'lord! An urgent matter requires your attention! It is about the Rangers!" Elendil then quickly got himself dressed in his morning attire and left with haste. He arrived at the throne room in Minas Tirith. Many men were gathered about, including Beregond. "What has happened? Did we hear word of the Rangers?" Beregond hesitates then decides to tell the Steward what transpired. "Mi'lord... while the Rangers were camping in the continous night, they were attacked. The Uruk-Hai made a daring attack with only 50 men... they were caught completely off-guard... there were no survivors..." Elendil, shocked, starts pondering what could have transpired. He dismisses the men with a swift motion of the hand. He sits down on his stone-made throne and weeps...