#v:fa

“I thank you, kind sir.” Naurin tilted her head downwards, her eyes on the ground before his feet. The strands of hair framing her face partially shielding her eyes. She lifted her head to look upon the man before her, “It is flattering to hear such words from a stranger.” She smiled slightly, her cheeks dimpling. 

@bouncingbeleg

Naurin rode through the familiar trees which had always comforted her adventurous soul. She adored naming the different shades of green and yellow and the occasional orange that she encountered; the memory of her father teaching her all his kin knew of the trees they admired still strong in her mind, even if Naurin was much younger at the time. 

She would spend her time chasing deer, sometimes foxes, enjoying the challenge of finding, identifying and then following their tracks just as her father had taught her. And it was through this curiosity that Naurin encountered strange tracks hidden in the thick foliage of the forest.

They cannot be animal tracks, she thought, but it is rare to come across anything more than deer or foxes around this area. 

One...two...three...four...five....six...

Aredhel counted eight guards surrounding the elf in the middle of the camp --including the one standing watch and the two scouting that she'd narrowly avoided a few moments before. The last of whatever group had been captured which led her here. It had been an accident, almost crossing lethal paths with a group of orcs 'escorting' a prisoner to their Lords realm. But as she waited to make sure the coast was clear before she left her hiding spot and continue on her way, another group came by...then another...then another...like ants returning to their hill with the prizes they'd gotten along the way, all coming from the same direction.

Keeping her horse as quiet as possible, she followed them back from a safe distance, eventually finding the place which they were issued from. But when she'd first come there had been too many, forcing her to wait and watch as the second to last elf had been dragged off to whatever doom lay ahead of him. Finally she was left with the one, and she had to strike before they moved him too.

An eye on their prisoner, the five in the middle talked among themselves in their horrible, gargled speech, their backs turned to the Sentry which gave Aredhel her moment to move. The watcher fell almost silently, her dagger cutting his throat before he could utter an alarm before she dragged him into the nearby bushes and focused her attention on the next move. The biggest Orc kicked at the prisoner, another moving in for beating when she threw a dagger through the air and thudding into that orcs back, drawing their attention from the elf to her.

It all happened quickly, the scouts returning as she began to fight two at a time, her mind problem solving before she had four opponents. A slash, a stab, a kick-- she rolled out of the way of a sword about to swipe her head off, blocking it before she used her other dagger to gut him. It wasn't a process she enjoyed, but she had no choice, the balance of the life of her kin on the line. Stab, duck, slash, stab, block, dodge, stab, duck, swipe, block, feign, stab. The trained movements soon left her the only one standing, panting like a horse after a gallop, her eyes searching the surrounding area for any other threats before she lowered her weapons and her guard, breathing a sigh of relief.