Category: Embers of Hope

Zaradanoric sat up quickly in bed his chest hurting and his brow sweaty. As he gasped for breath he realized that it was the same dream that had plagued him for nearly 15 years. He relived the flight almost every night and this was no different. He strode over to the dormitory window and looked out upon Esteldin’s inner court trying to settle his heart.

Deciding that sitting there wouldn’t work, Zaradanoric donned his armor over his large frame and grabbed his two-handed sword. It was a marvelous sword built upon his father’s sword hilt. It was about a meter long and sharper than a razor. He padded downstairs as quietly as he could and walked to the training dummies. He began to attack in a basic manner as he had been taught. As he went, he made it more complex adding in well placed strikes.

After he finished his routine, he went to the wall tops to watch the sun rise. In his musings he did not hear his cousin Madros mount the wall and sit beside him.

Zaradanoric jumped in shock when his cousin spoke, “You are not fit for this life kinsman.” Madros paused and snorted at his cousin’s shock. “You don’t even have the awareness to be a Ranger. Last night the elders met and we decided that you should go south to Archet and find someone to train you in different combat. They are going to send you off tomorrow with Jon Brackenbrook’s hunting party. While you are there maybe you can make a name for yourself and excel better then we can train you.”

“That sounds fine cousin. I think it will do me well. I shall make my way back to talk to you at some point. But you are right and I feel it. I have a different destiny.”

With that Zaradanoric got up and went about his day. He cleaned his gear and packed his things. Near lunchtime Zaradanoric was summoned before the elders and told what Madros told him. He would be sent to Archet but he would first stop at Trestlebridge to meet with Jon Brackenbrook’s hunting party.

Zaradanoric mounted his horse after the briefing and began the long ride to Trestlebridge. While he rode, Zaradanoric though of what was happening. He was leaving his home of fifteen years to go abroad to a new place. He wished that he had time to bid farewell to Barain but Othrikar was a day’s journey away. The dwarves who had rescued the two from the woods had considered him one of their own but as the years passed many of them departed for different places.

Near evening Zaradanoric had reached the outpost of Amon Raith. As he mounted the steps he heard an unearthly howl from the fields below him. At the top of the platform several heavily armed rangers sat at the top on alert. He peaked at the fields below but found that they were shrouded in a fog that felt very evil.

“What aroused this evil?” He whispered to the nearest Ranger. “I knew that foul things had begun to raise themselves but what is this madness?”

“Barghests and spirits haunt the mists. This mist had come for some time but a few months ago barghests began to walk the moors. Now we can no longer reach Evendim through the gap. But the spirits. Those are new. They awoke only a night ago.” The Ranger swept his glance around and resumed his thought. “They come from the ancient city to the north. I fear that evil much stronger than what we normally face. I fear this may come from Angmar.”

The moment that name exited the ranger’s mouth; Zaradanoric felt a foul chill on his spine. Then he replied, “Should I stay the night here or continue to Trestlebridge with haste?”

“Hurry with haste! The urge to stay and help us is noble but fly and send news while there is still time! We will be fine, a rider was sent to Othrikar not an hour ago.”

Zaradanoric crept back down the stairs and mounted his skittish steed. This time he urged his mount faster out of desperation. By sunrise Zaradanoric had the great bridge in view. He urged his exhausted steed forward and began the final part of his trek. As he thundered over the bridge and to the guardhouse, he saw very few people out and about.

He clumsily dismounted his steed and staggered towards the guardhouse. As he opened the door and sat on the floor in front of the fire some of the guards awoke.

“Hail friend, what is your name and what news do you bring?” One guard asked him.

“I am Zaradanoric kin of the Rangers. I am to meet Jon Brackenbrook’s hunting party here this evening. But on my travel I was made aware of trouble. Evil spirits and barghests have risen on the Fields of Fornost. Evil is afoot.”

One of the younger guardsmen scoffed but was hushed by a glare from his elder. The watch chief stepped forward. “I am the watch chief here. You say you are sure that you heard these things?”

Zaradanoric nodded in response and the chief continued speaking, “then you bring us grim tidings indeed. For orcs and goblins of a stronger variety have begun to invade the Nan Watheren gorge again. I will inform the council but you rest and we will wake you when the hunting party arrives.”

Zaradanoric nodded and lay down on the floor away from the fire. As he drifted off to sleep the other guardsmen whispered behind him. “Look at him. He is sleeping in his armor and on the floor he must be crazy or tough as nails.” Zaradanoric chuckled to himself and drifted off to sleep.

             As they sprinted up the hill, a howl erupted in the dark followed by several others. This only caused the dwarf and boy to sprint faster up the hill. When they reached the summit nearly out of breath, Barain dropped his pack and drew his axe. Then he turned to Zaradanoric but saw that he already had his fathers broken sword drawn.

The dwarf shouted, “Now boy. We fight for our lives. Take this sword and never let it go! Fight back to back with me! Lets move our way up the hills as we go. We may find help!”

The sturdy dwarf remounted his pack and drew from his belt pouch a small cylindrical object. He pulled a string and held it skyward. Suddenly a bright blue-green sparkling light shot into the sky and flew for a time before fading out. Though partially blinded by the flash Zaradanoric realized it was a firework.

Zaradanoric asked, “Why were you shooting a firework? It’s not the time for celebration. We haven’t even begun to fight.” Then he stared at the dwarf as his eyes adjusted waiting for an answer.

Barain spoke without looking at him and said, “Twas another idea gathered from the mines. We would carry flares and if we got into trouble or were attacked we would fire off a flare. Hopefully, it will be recognized or seen and someone will come investigate.

At that point Zaradanoric was too exhausted to verbally reply, so he nodded and dashed on. Once they reached the summit, they both paused and stood for a minute inhaling air into their burning lungs. While they looked around, their pursuers began to encircle. Suddenly, a fireball whizzed past them and slammed into the slope near them. The snow melted completely in that area before it refroze. The two travelers looked for cover but found none as the snow blasted around them.

“Blast! This weather is not normal,” Barain bellowed, “This is some magic of the enemy. We have to stand and fight it! Come on Lad!”

Zaradanoric drew his sword hilt with jagged edges and stood side by side with the stocky dwarf, who had drawn his axes, to repel the assault. For a minute nothing came, but out of the frost two wolves and a crebain lurched. Barain dispatched one wolf quickly but Zaradanoric struggled to fend of both the wolf and crebain. He smacked the crebain hard with the flat of his blade and broke its neck. As he turned to face the wolf it pounced on him and its claws sunk into his chest.

As warm blood soaked his shirt, Zaradanoric saw Barain cut the wolf’s head off. As he pulled Zaradanoric up the dwarf quipped, “I don’t think he will be needing that anymore!” and he swiftly kicked the severed head into the woods.

Barain began to patch some of Zaradanorics wounds but they were interrupted. A massive fireball slammed into the hilltop next to them and exploded. It severed the rope binding the two together and flung them away from each other. Zaradanoric’s ears were ringing but he still clutched his sword piece in one hand.

A series of raged forms mounted the hilltop followed by a figure garbed in red. That figure sent chills down Zaradanorics spine as he watched. They seemed to be speaking about something but Zaradanoric could not hear what they were speaking of. Then two of them moved and picked up Barain, who was still unconscious from the blow. They began to lug him away but Zaradanoric rallied the last of his strength and rose from the red snow around him. As he searched for a weapon he remembered a piece of advice his father taught him. Sometimes a dagger can reach farther than any sword.

So with this though Zaradanoric flung his knife at the red-garbed figure and collapsed into the snow as his wounds continued to bleed. His actions though were rewarded with a disturbing shriek that pierced the air. Zaradanoric was roughly rolled over and a foot was placed on his throat. As he began to lose his foothold on life something rose in Zaradanoric. He began to struggle for life and survival. He weakly pushed back at the foot and continued to struggle but was only rewarded with a heavier pressure.

The evil feeling red-garbed figure strode into view but Zaradanoric could see no face under his hood only shadow. Suddenly, it looked up, hissed, and ran faster than anything Zaradanoric had ever seen. His head began to ring and he no longer felt the pressure on his throat.

“This must be what death feels like,” he muttered. Then he heard a strong brogue belt out.

“Here they are lads! They are over here!” Zaradanoric felt himself lifted as light filled his view. “Don’t worry now lad we have you both safe and sound.”

As Zaradanoric passed out that was the last thing he heard and it sounded fine to him. Two words rolled through his numb thoughts. Safe and sound.

            Zaradanoric awoke the next morning refreshed. As Zaradanoric ate breakfast Althanier told him that Barain would only be in the village for another day and they would need to prepare for their travel. Zaradanoric listened and thought then he remembered something.

“Althanier, what happened to the sword pieces I was carrying? They are very important to me.”

“Child, we placed them in a bag we made for you,” the Earth-kin paused and handed a specially knit bag to him. This bag contained all his belongings and supplies. Althanier spoke, “Zaradanoric, I have a feeling that you are going to be very influential in the years to come. Be careful in the wild.”

Zaradanoric was confused but he nodded and left. He spent the rest of the day packing and talking with Barain about their trip.

“My boy, we will set out tomorrow morning quite early. Our destination is Othrikar and the trip will take almost a week. It could take less if you hike faster but I am not sure how much speed you could manage. Winter is upon our doorsteps and foul evil has begun to lurk the road could be dangerous but I don’t think we should be in too much trouble. When we get to Othrikar we will look for a Ranger and since they are your kin you will go with them for your safety.

Zaradanoric nodded because his head was swimming with so much information. He was excited and somewhat scared. He laid down to bed and fell asleep to the sound of Barain’s raucous snoring.

When they rose in the morning it was dark, cold, and there was a heavy rain pouring down. Zaradanoric was handed a rain cloak and ankle-high boots and he followed Barain out of the Earth-kin camp. They began to head north and as a chill breeze began to blow.

Barain complained, “We will have to be careful. Harvest season is almost over and winter comes! The rain may turn to snow before too long!”

Zaradanoric nodded and replied, “Wouldn’t the snow be to our advantage though? It would cover our tracks.”

Barain smiled at the youngsters attempt think strategically about a situation and replied, “Nay child, when it stops even a blind orc would be able to follow us. Good thought though. If we are lucky we might get to the tip of the mountains before the snow hits.”

With those words leaving Barain’s mouth the rain promptly changed to snow as if it were listening. The ground began to gather a white covering as they trudged. It lent a festive look to everything all glistening in white.

As the snow began to fall Barain grumbled, “Me and my mouth. I say it shouldn’t snow and there it goes! Bah!”

Zaradanoric chuckled at the irony and Barain, seeing the humor began to chuckle as well. They walked for a good potion of the day slowly eating from their packs. They ate only enough to keep themselves going and the snow continued to fall. As dark fell Barain began looking for a spot to sleep amongst the trees. The snow only came to Zaradanorics ankles but it showed no sign of stopping. Zaradanoric found a small copse of thorn bushes. After wiggling through an opening Barain and Zaradanoric found a small hollow about ten feet tall and 15 feet across. It was completely dry inside but quite cold. Barain went out into the storm to gather wood and Zaradanoric prepared the food. An hour later they had hot food and were somewhat comfortable.

“Tonight, we will post watch. While we are in the wild this is the safest thing. I will watch from sundown to midnight and you will watch from midnight till dawn. You should get some sleep. You are going to need it.”

Zaradanoric did as he was told and settled down in the dirt and dead leaves on the ground. The warm air in lulled him swiftly to sleep. After what felt like only a few minutes Barain awakened him at midnight.

“Your turn lad,” the dwarf paused for a yawn, “Nothing has stirred so far but keep awake. Don’t hesitate to wake me if you need to.”

With those words the dwarf promptly fell asleep on his feet and fell face forward onto the ground snoring before Zaradanoric could catch him. Zaradanoric watched with mixed shock and amusement at the dwarf for a moment then he turned his gaze towards the entrance they had disguised.

Some time later Zaradanoric was startled by the noise of footsteps in the snow near by. He slowly moved towards the entrance and looked out through the thick brambles at the snow-laden forest. At first glance he couldn’t see anything, but out of the corner of his eye he saw something move. Staring hard against the blowing snow through the brambles but only caught a glimpse of a canine looking animal. The rest of his watch Zaradanoric was on edge but nothing came.

When dawn came, it was barely perceivable through the blowing snow. Zaradanoric work Barain, who went to his bag and retrieved a flask of whisky, after a quick sip there was a noticeable difference in the dwarf’s countenance.

Barain belched, sighed, and handed the flask to him. “Here lad. Take a sip of this. It will warm your body and make you bolder.”

Zaradanoric took the flask and sipped. Struggling not to gag as the liquid, which felt like fire, flowed down his throat. Gingerly handing the flask back, Zaradanoric choked back the last sip of the fiery draught. Barain began to laugh uncontrollably.

“Boy, that was the finest funniest thing I have ever seen. That was family dwarf brew beer. It could lay most men flat and many, including your father, didn’t even swallow the first sip! Ha! You showed them didn’t you!”

With a slight buzzing in his ears Zaradanoric began to laugh a felt pride mixed with sadness. He was proud of what he did but sad that his father couldn’t be there.

“Well Barain,” Zardanoric coughed several times, “My father always told me that if I was going to drink I needed to be able to hold it down.” After saying this Zaradanoric began to cry a little, the fresh memories brought emotions he couldn’t control.

As he sunk to his knees crying, he felt Barain roughly hug him and move him back on his feet. “There, there, lad. I forgot that you aren’t a seasoned battler like me. Have a good cry and try not to dwell on it. Remember; don’t let evil drag you down. Let it motivate you to beat it back!” Barain looked out at the sky and surroundings. “Now tis time to get moving we are going to lose time in this snow storm.”

Zaradanoric wiped the tears from his face, got up, packed his things, and followed Barain out of their hallow. Entering into the cold white worlds around them, Zaradanoric realized that it was snowing heavier and the sky was darker than the day before. Barain looked around and headed off the same direction as before. Zaradanoric followed after and walked into the snow.

Several hours later as the conditions worsened, Zaradanoric heard Barain swear.

The stocky dwarf turned and shouted into the wind “By Durin’s Beard! This snow must be a trick of the enemy. I haven’t seen this since the winter of the battle at Erabor! Come here lad!”

Zaradanoric leaned into the gusting and walked up to the dwarf. The stocky dwarf tied their wrists together with a length of rope before explaining.

“We use this in the mines when we are exploring! This should keep us together!” The dwarf shouted and carried on.

As they marched Zaradanoric noticed cebain gathering and what may have been wargs in the tree line. As he marched he touched Barain’s shoulder and motioned silently at the gathering animals.

The dwarf singled a halt and spoke to Zaradanoric in the gusting wind. “Lad we are probably going to be attacked. We need to dash up that hill when we get to the top we should be near the low hills of Nan Amlug. If we can get into the hills we can get to the watch post and they will take us to Othrikar! Now we have to run. Ready? Now!

With that the dwarf and young boy dashed towards the hill through the snow and wind at full speed. And the enemy followed.

“Come on you slow poke! I will beat you if you don’t hurry.” The tall, brown haired, young girl teased as she dashed towards the barn that was obscured by hills.

“What? You don’t think that I can catch you? I am faster then the wind.” A slightly shorter, skinny boy, who was around her age, shouted. As he left the house running, he promptly tripped on a root and lay there for a minute laughing. When he looked up and glanced around he didn’t spot his friend. He shouted. “Talurien, wait for me! You know our parents say that we aren’t supposed to go alone! Its dangerous”

Hearing nothing, the young boy, Zaradanoric, sprinted towards the barn at top speed. As he arrived he looked around for Talurien but didn’t see her in front of the barn. Quickly, he checked around the well and the nearby woodshed but he didn’t find anything. That left Zaradanoric one place to investigate so he looked around at the summer evening sky before ducking into the impending gloom of the barn.

Inside the barn it was unusually quiet. He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom before he raised his voice and said, “Talurien! Where are you!”, at this point Zaradanoric was quite concerned because it was not like her to disappear quietly. Suddenly, from the other end of the barn he heard strange, guttural shouts moving in his direction. As he ran the other way a bearded man stepped foreword from the shadows of an empty stall and spoke.

“Thank you child, you have delivered the two greatest hostages in history! Children of the Dùnedain will be powerful tokens to reclaim Nan Amlug. Captain Shagrad! You filthy orc. Come here and take this brat with the other one!” Spoke the man in a condescending tone. He smiled victoriously.

Zaradanoric was filled with rage. It boiled from his straight brown hair down to his toes. Spotting an axe stored on the nearby wall, Zaradanoric did something quite impulsive, even for him.

He mustered all his speed in a mad scramble to the wall towards the axe. Surprised, the tall bearded man leaped back in shock, stumbling into the approaching orc captain. This momentary confusion gave Zaradanoric the time he needed. He grabbed the razor sharp axe and swung several times at his foes.

“Aggg!!!” the tall man yelled as one of the hits landed. The orc captain began to speak only to be suddenly silenced. As a war cry’s echoed behind him, Zaradanoric dashed towards his home screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Father, Rathgan! Come quickly. There are monsters in the barn, they have Talurien, we need-“ He shouts of help suddenly turned into those of sorrow and rage as he confronted the sight of his home for the past eight winters being burned to the ground. As he walked around the blaze looking for friends or family, he saw two swords on the ground . As he hefted the hilts, Zaradanoric realized that they were the swords of his father and those of Rathgan, Talurien’s father.

Looking around quickly, Zaradanoric quickly spotted a mass of bodies. He dashed over and began to claw through the bloody masses searching for his family or Talurien’s family. Suddenly his bloodstained arms were weakly grasped and Zaradanoric saw it was his fathers. He bent down and wiped the blood from his father’s face.

His father weakly gasped “Zaradanoric, we were betrayed. The local tribes betrayed us to the hill men from Angmar. No son.” Eguald gently pushed his sons hands away from a bleeding wound, “It is too late. Both our family and Rathgan’s were slain. Rathgan fell next to me and a spear has pierced me fatally. Go son, go and find the Earth-kin. They know that you are Dùnedain and they will hopefully protect you and honor their pledge. They will get you to safety.”

“But father, they took Talurien. They will kill her if we don’t save her!” Tears brimmed in Zaradanorics eyes as his father’s hand went limp in his grasp. For the entire world to hear, Zaradanoric screamed. It was the scream of one who had had everything taken from him, one who had his last hope brutally snatched from him. Tears streaming down his face Zaradanoric ran towards the barn still screaming bearing both sword fragments hunting for revenge.

When he reached the structure, it was empty save for the body of a massive, headless orc captain. Zaradanoric quit screaming and stooped to pick up the axe that saved his life. He shouldered it and headed east with tears in his eyes. He traveled east and away from his home and all he knew and loved. Zaradanoric numbly trod across the foothills headed east towards the Earth-kin camp bearing only his weapons.

Two days later, Zaradanoric was desperately stumbling towards the east.  He was hungry, thirsty, tired, and being chased. The day before a pack of wolves had picked up his trail and were tracking him since then. As he tripped nearer to the mountain range he heard the wolves closing. Desperation seized him and he placed on a final burst of speed, which amounted to a slow trot, and fell to the ground exhausted. The wolves close in for the kill and one began to pounce when Zaradanoric thought he was hallucinating.

The wolf fell to the ground with a massive arrow growing out of its chest. Suddenly light sprang into the grove and tall, skinny giants entered. They drove off the wolves and gathered around Zaradanoric. As the shock of the past three days and the exhaustion of his trek fell upon him he collapsed to the ground.

He felt rough hands picked him up. As he began to move he realized he was being carried and he handed his pennant to the giant.

Upon observation Zaradanoric heard the giant speak.

“This is Eguald’s son. Something must have happened to their post. We must take him to Estildin, they will know how best to care for him” These were the last words that Zaradanoric heard as his world faded to black.