Bird on a Wire - Part 1
Bird on a Wire - Part 2
Bird on a Wire - Interlude 1
Bird on a Wire - Part 3
Bird on a Wire - Part 4
Bird on a Wire - Part 5
Bird on a Wire - Interlude 2
Bird on a Wire - Part 6
Xanderian and Audea stood on a moonlit hill looking down at the small, kindly village of Needlehole. The halflings that dwelt here were more used to odd happenings then many of the Shire-folk, as their homes stood at the crossing point between the lands of the hobbits and fabled Ered Luin, however they were still halflings none the less. The small collection of hobbit-holes and market stalls seemed enticingly peaceful and homey, and watching the hobbit inhabitants going about their evening pastimes causing Audea to sigh to herself longingly, before remembering the danger Hawke must be in at that very moment. Her hand tightened perceptively on her drawn sword as her anger rose again.
Xanderian noticed the girl’s knuckles go white around the hilt of her sword, and thought for a moment...then whispered carefully to Audea. "Do not kill the little folk.”
Below them, Braichanar stayed low, placing his feet on dry tussocks of grass as he passed through the last vestiges of the Bog. He had already skirted the small halfling villiage, and saw no sign of the enemy on the main road. Ahead, however, he noted two Dourhands lazily making their way to the pass. An arrow flew into the night, slaying one, and before his cohort had time to react, he was felled by a second arrow from the Ranger.
Braichanar called to Xanderian and Audea with a particular bird song signaling that the path was clear.
Xanderian and Audea slipped down the hill to the road and sprinted through the quiet streets, following the ranger. As they rushed past one halfling carefully tending her night-blooming jasmine plant, the woman glanced up at the elf and the armored woman as she shook her head in disgust. “Big world problems…” she muttered to herself before returning to her planting.
Finally clear of the hobbit holes, the two came up short at the cliffside as the river far below came into view crowed by an ancient stone bridge, carved in the ornate, blocky style of Dwarves from a gentler, friendlier age. The woman stared for a moment as if seeking to memorize the scene, gasping at the perfect merging of function, design and beauty.
Xanderian whispered to Audea..."Behold...the first bridge to Ered Luin.” The elleth let her own gaze travel the length of the ancient crossing point, elven-eyes stripping away the darkness. Near one short stone pillar across the raging water, there was a sudden flash of flame as a pipe was lit, then a glint of reflected light off a dwarven helmet. The huntress smiled, nocking an arrow.
Audea noted the flame as well and immediately became a little more stiff in the shoulders. Gulping down her anxiety, she brought her other hand down to the hilt of the sword in preparation and leaned forward as if she were about to rush across the bridge straight at the sentry.
Xanderian raised her bow and fired, Heartbreaker sighing like a lover as the flickering embers of the pipe wavered in the darkness, then plummeted into the water below silently.
Braichanar had slipped below the bridge to be certain the river did not shield more sentries and was ascending the embankment as he watched the dourhand fall past him. With quick, firm strides, he met his companions at they crossed the bridge.
Audea visibly startled as he seemed to simply appear as if by magic. Xandarian however did not even look up from studying the path ahead. “They watch....the Viper is already here.” she said.
Braichanar nodded tersely, turning to point towards the last bridge leading into the pass. ''They do not seem aware of our presence as of yet, however. We have done well thus far.''
Audea shuffled a bit to the right to peer over the edge of the cliff and down to the water. She quickly turned her gaze away as she saw the Dourhand, laying broken on the rocks, his pipe still in his lifeless hand. Once she would have looked away in horror, now she looked away, slightly disturbed by the fact she felt only satisfaction. Perhaps that was one of the monsters who hurt Hawke and deserved far worse than he got.
Braichanar could smell the breeze from beneath his cowl. The dawning sun was rising and he gestured towards the trees tucked into the lee of the cliff. ''Let us not be caught standing in the open. We are not across yet.''
Xanderian nodded and scanned the second bridge, speaking calmly in a whisper as she did so. “The Dourhand work in threes, as we just saw...the two sentries, then the third in shelter of the bridge. They will always have a third dwarf waiting for the backstab. Be wary of them. I have slain many Dourhand and they are cunning and ruthless foes. Do not underestimate them.”
Braichanar lowered to one knee, fingers tense on the curve of his bow as he studied the bridge ahead of them. Across it was a group of five Dourhands, armed and patrolling a small makeshift barricade.
Braichanar whispered, “Then there is a sixth...that we do not see...”
Audea's brow furrowed in a good mix of both worry and confusion, her gaze turning away from the large group of Dourhand in search of the hidden sixth. She fought down the urge to ask if anyone else had a stomach ache at that moment and gripped her sword more tightly.
Braichanar rose to his feet. ''We must be wary, and expect an attack from our flank. I deem we can slay two from a distance before the rest hide themselves behind the barricade.''
The elleth nodded. “I will ensure they do not hide themselves...”
Braichanar glanced questioningly at Xanderian as she slipped an arrow from her quiver, whispered over it softly, then carefully secured a small ceramic vial just behind the arrowhead. The ranger understood swiftly, noting to himself again that Nightwind’s reputation was deserved and that her long years of experience were a great resource. Readying an arrow to his bow, he took a long stride from the tree-cover and prepared to fire.
The elleth lifted Heartbreaker and aimed not at any of the dwarves, but towards the barricade. “Choose your first target and take your shot,” she whispered. “When they break away from the barricade, fire freely.”
Braichanar took aim, tracking the Dourhand near the large rocks next to the water with the patience of an expert hunter. Finally, after a breath, he fired, and the evil dwarf fells to the ground transfixed by a long Dunedain arrow.
As the ranger’s shot hit home and drew the eyes of the Dourhand, Xanderian fired, the shaft landing firmly in the dry grass at the base of the barricade. With a hiss flame erupted, then engulfed the grass. The barricade was aflame in mere moments as the defenders scattered.
Braichanar lept forward, cloak billowing behind him, as his long strides closed the distance. He fired freely now, picking off a dwarf who ran from the raging flames. Xanderian nocked again and picked off another as he tried to put out the flames that had raced up his greasy tunic then followed the ranger.
The two remaining dwarves were charging down the bridge towards them, howling their war cries and abandoning their flaming barricade in hopes of driving the pair off the bridge with sheer force.
Audea was quite unsure of when and where to move and shuffled from foot to foot while trying to watch the treeline, but once it seemed they’d gotten most of the dwarves, she moved forward and lingered at the end of the bridge while the ranger and the elf surged forward to meet the last two Dourhand.
Xanderian leaped up onto the narrow handrail of the bridge gracefully to change angles, lining up the shot as she balanced there. She drew back and Heartbreaker seemed to howl, an image assailing both of her two companions of hordes of Dourhand descending from a wrecked vessel on an ice flow, halbards and axes gleaming in a strange blue firelight as Xanderian fired arrow after arrow to cull their number while a phalanx of Longbeards, woefully outnumbered, slammed into their rush like a hammer against an anvil. The vision cleared as Heartbreaker sang in triumph, the single arrow taking the first dwarf, finding a gap in his armor between chest and shoulder and continuing straight through his torso to drive deep into the forehead of the second dwarf.
Braichanar had prepared to fire but lowered his bow and began to cross, satisfied that there was no movement from across the bridge. He swiftly drew his hunting knife and bent, slaying the one dwarf that was still struggling after being impaled. Audea winced at the wet, gurgling sound that came from the dying dwarf then sagged against the side of the bridge, the tension of the battle taking its toll.
Xanderian raced lightly along the hand rail and dropped off the far end of the bridge, her gaze already on the path far ahead...seeing no alarms raised.
Braichanar was still kneeling, about to put away his blade, when the sixth dwarf sprang the surprise attack. Having been hiding beneath the bridge, the one-eyed Dourhand leaped onto the stones and charged at Audea, two handed axe held high. Braichanar heard the dwarf’s harsh cursing and whirled around. He reached to draw his bow again but knew that he would be much too late.
Xanderian spun as well, but the Ranger stood between herself and the charging Dourhand. She briefly considered firing through the Ranger as the dream of a few nights before flooding her mind again in horror, a sudden fear that Audea's doom had indeed arrived on the road to Ered Luin.
As Audea turned at the harsh voice to see the Dourhand climb up and over the edge of the bridge her eyes widened and she stumbled back, quickly raising her blade to hold him at bay even as her hand shook.
The dwarf only reached Audea's shoulder but he was heavily armored, powerful and enraged by the fate that had befallen his fellows, seeking to slam into Audea and cast her off the bridge to the rocks below before dealing with the tark in the hood beyond. The fact that she brought her sword around caused him to drop that strategy, but the fear in her eyes made clear to the slaver that this was no warrior before him. He smiled evilly, taking a half step back as the Angmarim brand on his cheek seemed to glow redder in his pleasure…he was going to enjoy this.
The Dourhand was clearly laughing at the Breelander as he approached at a trot, swinging his vicious axe low, side to side like a pendulum. Xanderian stood like a statue at the far side of the bridge, yet her calm, soft voice filled Audea's mind as she stared at the dwarf in terror. "He will swing high, overhand, to overwhelm you but he will use too much force assuming he can defeat you in one blow...do not attempt to block as he expect you to, but when his Axe is high and balance is weakest, stab him low, under the breastplate, when he gives you an opening. Strike swiftly and with the courage of your blood."
Audea grunted as the dwarf bulled into her, doing her best to fight against the weight that he was bearing down on her. She struggled to listen to the voice that popped into her head with a furrowed brow. Somehow, she managed not to fall on her bottom and pushed back at the dwarf to force him back a step, freeing her blade yet faltering back, trying to guard herself with the sword across her chest.
The dwarf drove forward and gnashed his teeth, stomping with one booted foot and smiling as his prey's blade dropped to guard as he expected, raising his long handled axe high above his head for the killing blow. Xanderian closed her eyes, her mind filled with images of the axe sinking deep into Audea’s shoulder like a serpent’s fang, her lifeless body falling into the river below, visions of failure and death sought to overwhelm her yet a fire of confidence in Audea burned deep in her soul, dispelling the lingering shadows of the dream and she opened her eyes, one word driving into Audea’s mind like a siren….”NOW!”
Audea shut her eyes fast and fought back her urge to keep the sword before her as a guard, and as the word echoed through her she thrust the sword forward to strike under the breastplate with all of the courage she could muster up.
The dwarf stared, goggle-eyed, as the blade slid into his abdomen like a hot knife through butter, his arms high above his head leaving him as vulnerable as a turtle on its back. He stepped back, blood pouring from his mouth as the sword slid free, trying still to feebly bring his axe down but now letting it fall more than swinging it.
Quickly, Audea brought her blade back, managing to step out of the way of the falling axe and ward it off with the flat of her sword but the wicked edge caught her arm, cutting armor straps and sliding into the flesh before clattering to the cobblestones as the dying dwarf lost his grip. The girl winced, looking at blood drip down the armor of her arm. Granted, it was larger than any cut she had ever suffered, but she would certainly take it over an axe to the neck or something of the sort.
Braichanar stepped forward, having used the brief battle to rush to the girl’s aid, his sword flashing in the morning light as he hewed the stumbling dwarf in half, the body hitting the stones with a two wet thuds and a loud clang.
Audea's eyes widened even further as she just stared down at the two halves of the body, looking quite disgusted. She finally made a little noise, sheathing her weapon once more as she looked up to Braichanar while pushing him away gently. ".. Thanks," she muttered, then fell to one knee.
Braichanar called, “Tolo hi, Nightwind. She is injured.'
Audea 's armor was hanging from her left arm, and the wound was quite deep. Confused, she looked down to the bleeding, and her brow furrows once more.”I-I'm fine, really. Let's jus' keep goin', aye?”
Xanderian stepped forward...and slipping a bit of silk from her pouch, tied it tightly around the wound, whispering a few words. She leaned close..kissing Audea’s cheek and whispering to her. “You did well...the wound will not pain you until this task is done. Be of stout heart, for your courage and love will be a beacon to comfort him in adversity.”
Audea didn't fight the elleth, her head swimming. Rather she shoots her a small, thankful smile, which only widens some when her ear is whispered into. “.. Thank you, Miss Xan. I didn't even really feel it... I jus' want t'get t'him before the ship leaves...We're close, ain't we?”
Braichanar returned with the horses as Xanderian helped the girl to her feet, embracing her softly. “Yes, we are close, Love’s Blade..let us go and collect our wayward urchin. I suspect the Viper now awaits us impatiently to bring this matter to a close. This has gone on long enough and it is time to end it.”
