We search for the Riders of Rohan.
Book 5 – The Ride of the Rohirrim
Hirgon the herald
Lay hacked on the ground
For orcs held the road
The riders would take.
We must warn Rohan
That the route was blocked
So we plunged into the wood
Where the Woses beat their drums.
The Woses were wild
But willing to help
As the orcs were foes
Of the foulest kind.
We recovered the corpse
Of the clan’s eldest son
To pay the price
Of their precious aid.
The Woses knew a route
The riders could take
Where stones from a quarry
Were carried to Gondor.
We cleared a path
And prepared to ride
For the winds had changed
To challenge Mordor.
At the edge of the field
The fires were seen
That burned and blackened the city.
The horn was sounded
And the horses charged
To break the back of the siege.
Now it’s time for battle.
Pineleaf Needles
