The horse Celegnaith had carried Pelliriel out of the Eryn Lasgalen at the outset of her message-bearing journey, then Southward through the Gap of Rohan, and all the way back up to Rivendell. But still he continued on, seemingly tireless, needing only to rest for an occasional snack (generally apples, of varying quality). Even now as her path turned Westward again and passed through the Lone-Lands, Pelliriel took advantage of this almost non-stop speed, riding both day and night to carry an important message to Mithlond. Lord Thranduil´s blessing had carried her safely thus far, and now she passed under the feet of Amon Sûl with her path shrouded by the dark of night, making record time.
Perhaps that was a bad idea. Pelliriel had crossed half of the Western lands without encountering anything worse than a large bear, but danger has a habit of striking once all has begun to appear safe.
The Sinda scarcely had time to register the sight of a fire burning in a concealed hollow beneath the great hill before an arrow split the air a few feet behind her, and orcish figures, shrouded in shadow, rose next to the road some distance ahead. She yanked Celegnaith´s reins to the side and slung her bow off of the saddle as the Horse cashed blindly through the dry grass. Three orcs, it seemed, were in position to cut her off from returning to the flat terrain of the road. Fumbling an arrow from her quiver, Pelliriel aimed and took a shot at one silhouetted by the stars. The arrow seemed to fly true and a hoarse cry confirmed her aim, but the two remaining orcs rushed off of the road and into the tall, dark grass before she could loose another shot at them.
This, however, worked in her favor, as with the orcs off of the road she could make her way back without them in the way, assuming she were the quicker. It was, of course, not much of a contest, as she was on a horse, and furthermore one of the best breed of Mirkwood. Celegnaith sped once more back to the road, not even stumbling on the uneven ground. The howls of her pursuers confirmed to Pelliriel that she was safely in the lead, and she spurred her horse onward, not bothering to look for a shot at the orcs if they were still giving chase. Checking to ensure that the bag carrying the precious message from Thranduil himself was still at her side, she turned only to laugh somewhat rudely at the hapless orcs behind her.
At that moment a fourth orc, hidden in a ditch some distance away from the site of the initial ambush, stood suddenly and swung a great axe at Pelliriel. Not given a chance to think through heractions in response to this second surprise, she instinctively pulled the reins rightward which unfortunately happened to move her toward the orc and his foul breath. The unpleasant smell was only registered for a few moments, however, as the axe sliced through the air, missing with the blade but striking her face with the heavy handle and knocking her backwards with a horrible crunch. Her left arm became tangled in Celegnaith´s reins even as she fell from the saddle. She lost consciousness as her horse bolted, dragging her roughly over the hard stones of the road and into blackness.
Pelliriel awoke only briefly to the sight of an old woman's face, lit by torchlight as she and another carried the elf into a dilapidated inn. The world began to fade into view around her and she opened her mouth to say something, but the movement sent a sharp, intense pain shooting through her head and brought the darkness to close back in.
