Light Under the Shadow of Black Wings

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕

The next half of their travels took them into the farthest-most edges of Ithilien.

They were pursuing the next batch of warriors that were responding to the summons from the Black Lands. Receiving news from their scouts four days ago, they had been informed that a squadron of Haradrim, complete with a fleet of Oliphaunts, had been barreling through forests and towns alike.

The Rangers had taken up defensive positions deep within the cover of the woods, preparing to cut off their forces at a large pass through a particularly open and exposed field of tall grass. A tactic that they had been employing similarly with other small batches of enemies for close to an entire week straight by that point.

It was fairly sunny that day, a downright beautiful early spring afternoon. But that was contrasted harshly by the sound of the Haradrim army, which was growing louder with each passing second as they slowly descended upon their location.

Peering through the tall grass, they could see the looming and terrifying Oliphaunts as they lumbered forward, carrying men and other war supplies on their massive backs. Down at their feet, hundreds of additional soldiers trudged through the field.

Deora pulled her hood even lower over her face before turning to glance over at Faramir. The Captain was crouched directly at her side, eyes trained forward just as carefully as hers had been. She had her arm raised slightly, waiting for his silent signal that would give the order to begin the assault to the assembled Rangers hidden at their backs.

He continued to watch as the army walked out into the sun and eventually crossed the center-most part of the field. Snapping his head towards his Lieutenant, he nodded sharply.

Deora immediately dropped her arm, and in response, a deadly volley of arrows arced up and over their heads from those hidden in the brush.

In near-perfect unison, Deora and Faramir pulled their own bows off of their backs, propping themselves up onto one knee in order to add their own arrows to the assault.

The unsuspecting army of Southrons were dropping one by one into the soft grass at their feet, surprised shouts, grunts, and cries of the dying beginning to fill the air. The Oliphaunts were rearing up in terror, sometimes tossing the men and supplies they were carrying off their backs.

"Field is clear, Captain!" someone eventually shouted from across the meadow, once the last of the living Southron's had fled the area.

Faramir nodded his head, and he and Deora were quick to regroup with the rest of their men.

Heading for a nearby cliffside, in order to collect themselves and begin the trek back to their temporary base of operations, Anborn suddenly came jogging down from the hill above. The man skidded to a halt in front of their numbers.

"Wait. Wait, my lord." he said. "The men have come across spies on the cliff face."

"Spies?" Deora repeated in confusion. "What spies?"

"Halflings, and some other horrid creature we know not the origin of." Anborn reported. "But it disappeared into the forest before we could detain it."

"Take us to them." Faramir demanded."

The Ranger obliged, and the group of them crested over the top of the hillside that seemingly overlooked the entire field that had, only minutes ago, been the sight of their ambush. Up ahead, Deora watched as two small creatures, seemingly attempting to flee, ran straight into the men at the foremost part of their squadron. Chaos had immediately ensued, a sharp "Oi!" breaking through the air, as well as the sound of a sword being drawn.

Deora quickly pushed her way to the front of the throng, just in time to watch as one of the Rangers roughly shoved a Halfling down to the ground, holding a sword to their throat. The second was swiftly held aloft by two others.