The Black-haired Dragonslayer

He'd walked past a second time, it wasn't uncommon someone walked past for a second glance at the strange little orc.

A third time and she was starting to get suspicious, as much as she didn't mind people gawking it did come with risks.

"You've gone past a few times, you looking for someone or just wanna gawk at the little orc freak? " She huffed setting her cup down, as unpleasant as the shitty tavern was anyplace that allowed her kind in the door was a place she had to be cautious in "Hmm, you don't look then sort to hang round these places at all."

In just a few days he had gotten that lost? Viola had only heard stories of Rivendell, as curious as she was there was no way she would dare approach its borders, she’d be shot on sight without a doubt.

She was considering giving him help right up until he’d suggested leaving the tavern to talk elsewhere. Immediately she narrowed her eyes and made a face. Was he really lost or just trying to get her to a second location?

“Fuck that.” She snorted “Talking about Rivendell, Dúnedain and then asking me to go with you somewhere else to talk? You must think I came down in the last rain. I might be young but I’m by no means a stupid girl.” She laughed.

Taking a mouthful from her drink she shook her head “You want me to go off with you to talk shit over.. Easy way to get a girl alone in the dark, makes murder pretty simple.”

He frowned in almost offended silence. Harming her was the last possible thing in his plans. He just wanted to go back to somewhere he wouldn’t be seen as an obvious foreigner, even if it was obvious to both groups that he was neither elf nor dúnadan.

“I may seem as one of them, but I’m not. I have no interesting elvish weapons on me, nor do I have priceless relics of Westernesse. Their story isn’t mine. You’re the first orc I’ve ever met and I have no reason to wish you harm. I wouldn’t ask you to take me all the way there.”

Reaching into his bag, he retrieved a wrapped piece of cake. Quickly undoing the wrapping, he parted the piece in halves, pushed one half closer to the orc lady, and put the other in his mouth.

He'd walked past a second time, it wasn't uncommon someone walked past for a second glance at the strange little orc.

A third time and she was starting to get suspicious, as much as she didn't mind people gawking it did come with risks.

"You've gone past a few times, you looking for someone or just wanna gawk at the little orc freak? " She huffed setting her cup down, as unpleasant as the shitty tavern was anyplace that allowed her kind in the door was a place she had to be cautious in "Hmm, you don't look then sort to hang round these places at all."

“I dont need to mug some poor sod to get by, like some of these lot, I get by on my skills and jobs I take.” She boasted, Viola wasn’t about to mention her own incident from the first time she walked into the tavern, orcs were less favoured but compared to most In this place Viola didn’t like double crossing or trying to extort more coin from her jobs, she was grateful just to have one.

And now, a job had just sat itself down at her table asking for help, she couldn’t have asked for anything easier to have come along. She didn’t trust Elves but any who came into this place and spoke to an Orc deserved some benefit of doubt.

“Lucky for you I’m available to take a job right now.. So, where are you coming from and where do you wanna get to?”

“I left Rivendell a few days ago, but I’ve lost my way. I’d be glad to go to any Elven settlement or anywhere protected by the Dúnedain, but...” He paused for a long moment. “They’re not very fond of people like you. It could be dangerous.”

Despite hearing many stories about the cruelty of Orcs, he had never actually met any of them before. And this one wasn’t a huge, scary warrior, in fact, she was a small lady Orc and she didn’t seem as unfriendly as the other patrons of the tavern. 

He'd walked past a second time, it wasn't uncommon someone walked past for a second glance at the strange little orc.

A third time and she was starting to get suspicious, as much as she didn't mind people gawking it did come with risks.

"You've gone past a few times, you looking for someone or just wanna gawk at the little orc freak? " She huffed setting her cup down, as unpleasant as the shitty tavern was anyplace that allowed her kind in the door was a place she had to be cautious in "Hmm, you don't look then sort to hang round these places at all."

The people at that tavern didn’t look very friendly, and many were looking at him as if measuring if he was or wasn’t an easy mark. Also the food didn’t smell edible enough for him to order anything.

It wasn't a stretch to say Viola had a seen a few strangers get roughed up for making simple mistakes, bumping into the wrong person could get your arm broken or your leg broke, not a welcoming place to outsiders.

He sighed, hand reaching for the hilt of his sword under his cape. Lost, well-dressed, wide-eyed, confused could as well be code for easy to rob. They’d have a sore surprise if they attacked him, but he wasn’t used to fighting people and he definitely didn’t want to kill any of them. And he could be wrong, but the orc lady didn’t seem like someone who liked getting in unnecessary trouble.

He'd walked past a second time, it wasn't uncommon someone walked past for a second glance at the strange little orc.

A third time and she was starting to get suspicious, as much as she didn't mind people gawking it did come with risks.

"You've gone past a few times, you looking for someone or just wanna gawk at the little orc freak? " She huffed setting her cup down, as unpleasant as the shitty tavern was anyplace that allowed her kind in the door was a place she had to be cautious in "Hmm, you don't look then sort to hang round these places at all."

The people at that tavern didn’t look very friendly, and many were looking at him as if measuring if he was or wasn’t an easy mark. Also the food didn’t smell edible enough for him to order anything.

“I saw burned leaves on the grass over that way,” Magnater said, pointing with his head, “so naturally I went to have a look. I must have startled this little guy, because the first thing he did was to spit embers at me, but I guess he likes sweet fruit because he calmed down and started following me after I rolled him an apple.”

The salamander in his arms made a happy noise at the mention of apples, and Magnater grinned. 

“Somehow we make a good match. The two companions walking with you suit you well, too: a singing partner and a loyal friend to take around on walks. But I still have no idea what kind of creatures they are.” 

“I shall have to see if these two are fond of fruit as well– the greycloak who introduced us didn’t exactly tell me about their dietary needs.”

Magnater put his fiery new friend on the ground, retrieved an apple from his bag and sliced it in half. He gave one half to Rossiel’s pink fairy and offered the other to the large, fluffy dog.

“Let’s see if they like apples.” The salamander tugged at his leg. “Alright, alright, I’ll give you one, too.” He handed another apple to the little lizard. “There.”

Magnater kept a cheerful tone despite the scorch marks in his armor and soot on his face. He held in his arms a little orange salamander with fire on the tip of its tail. The small creature looked at everything with big, curious green eyes.

The salamander in his arms made a happy noise at the mention of apples, and Magnater grinned. 

Magnater kept a cheerful tone despite the scorch marks in his armor and soot on his face. He held in his arms a little orange salamander with fire on the tip of its tail. The small creature looked at everything with big, curious green eyes.

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“I won’t tell, I promise. If anyone asks,” he said, smiling, “I came to talk to you while enjoying some cake, and I was so careless with my eating that I left crumbs everywhere.”

Magnater poured two cups of tea, one for himself, and one for Rossiel. He also took a knife and cut one of the honey cakes into thin slices.

“Here, these are yours.” He offered her one of the teacups and a slice of honey cake, and took a long sip of his tea along with a bite of a slice of cake. “If I’m not asking too much, can you tell me what happened? Uh… it’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it, too.”

“You are most kind.”  She took up the cup in both hands, a slight tremble sending ripples across the tea’s surface as she lifted it to her lips.

Magnater took a long sip of his tea and finished his slice of honey cake while he tried to find the right words to say. They didn’t come as easily to him as they seemed to come to his brother. 

She dreaded sleep more, for her captivity haunted her dreams; or worse, she often feared Imladris was the dream, and that in truth she was still bound in a Dourhand cell, still awaiting whatever end the wight that now wore Skorgrím’s body would put her to.

The noise - someone whimpering - caught his attention. He rose from his seat, carefully balancing the teapot and the cakes, and approached Rossiel. 

Magnater poured two cups of tea, one for himself, and one for Rossiel. He also took a knife and cut one of the honey cakes into thin slices.

She dreaded sleep more, for her captivity haunted her dreams; or worse, she often feared Imladris was the dream, and that in truth she was still bound in a Dourhand cell, still awaiting whatever end the wight that now wore Skorgrím’s body would put her to.

The noise - someone whimpering - caught his attention. He rose from his seat, carefully balancing the teapot and the cakes, and approached Rossiel. 

Magnater stopped walking, staring right back at her. She was dressed strangely, and why would someone walk those deserted roads with a pack animal by her side?

Magnater shuddered - the stories of ghosts there always made his blood chill. There were apparitions - spectral visions, living as they did before the city had been ruined. Disembodied voices shouting commands and screaming. And some people said that, in some places, the ghosts had a stronger presence, strong enough that they could grab at the living. 

“Alright, then. I was told to deliver the goods to the Fort Commander, but nobody said it was gone. As far as I was aware, if I was to deliver to the Commander, then the Fort should be there as well. Since it isn’t, well-”

She paused, noticing the other’s almost fearful reaction to the mention of the Fort in the Ruins. What had scared him so badly to shake like that?

“I’m fine, don’t worry. But you shouldn’t go through the ruins, and you shouldn’t go through them alone. You probably haven’t heard the stories, because, if you did, you wouldn’t suggest going through the ruined city, not even as a joke.” He took another deep breath. “The ruins are badly haunted, and it’s better not to disturb restless spirits. If you lose your way there, you have a chance of never returning.”

Noticing he was making a grim face, he made a point of taking yet another deep breath and clearing his expression into something a bit cheerier. 

“You don’t look fine. At all. But if you want to show me a better way, I’m not complaining. Heck, I might have a few protection charms in here that’ll help us out, no matter where we go! Beaded strings, carvings and stuff.”

She dug through the bag for a minute before she found what she was looking for- Safety charms, made specifically for long travels.

“And I was right! Didn’t forget them like last time!”

Coming back around to the head of her mule she began to attatch them to the bridle- One brightly-colored yarn braid on each side and hanging where throatlatch and headstall met, dyed shades of gold, green, and blue. Then, in the middle of the browband went a trio of flat iron discs, small enough to fit in one’s palm. While the outer two bore overlapping circles, the middle was an overlap of squares and triangles.

“Well, I’m not fond of the idea of ghosts,” he explained. “Other things are easier to deal with, since you can actually hit them if they try to get you, but ghosts? I’d rather fight a dragon ten times my size.”

He glanced around. That other way were the ruins, and he would not head there without a very good reason. That meant that further ahead they’d find an entrance to the tunnels, even if it was a bit hidden. He started walking and waved at her.

He continued walking, knowing that Turin and her mule wouldn’t be far behind. 

“Oh really, you met him and survived? Neat, I thought everyone who was near that guy always died a slow and terrible death. Or at least that’s what the rumors say.”

“I’m not dead or dying a horrible death, as far as I know. Then again, I’ve always had good fortune. Maybe my good luck neutralized his legendary bad luck and his doom couldn’t catch on me.” He shrugged, and looked behind him. Her posture had shifted with tension.

Magnater stopped walking, staring right back at her. She was dressed strangely, and why would someone walk those deserted roads with a pack animal by her side?

Magnater shuddered - the stories of ghosts there always made his blood chill. There were apparitions - spectral visions, living as they did before the city had been ruined. Disembodied voices shouting commands and screaming. And some people said that, in some places, the ghosts had a stronger presence, strong enough that they could grab at the living. 

“Alright, then. I was told to deliver the goods to the Fort Commander, but nobody said it was gone. As far as I was aware, if I was to deliver to the Commander, then the Fort should be there as well. Since it isn’t, well-”

She paused, noticing the other’s almost fearful reaction to the mention of the Fort in the Ruins. What had scared him so badly to shake like that?

“I’m fine, don’t worry. But you shouldn’t go through the ruins, and you shouldn’t go through them alone. You probably haven’t heard the stories, because, if you did, you wouldn’t suggest going through the ruined city, not even as a joke.” He took another deep breath. “The ruins are badly haunted, and it’s better not to disturb restless spirits. If you lose your way there, you have a chance of never returning.”

Noticing he was making a grim face, he made a point of taking yet another deep breath and clearing his expression into something a bit cheerier. 

“You don’t look fine. At all. But if you want to show me a better way, I’m not complaining. Heck, I might have a few protection charms in here that’ll help us out, no matter where we go! Beaded strings, carvings and stuff.”

She dug through the bag for a minute before she found what she was looking for- Safety charms, made specifically for long travels.

“And I was right! Didn’t forget them like last time!”

Coming back around to the head of her mule she began to attatch them to the bridle- One brightly-colored yarn braid on each side and hanging where throatlatch and headstall met, dyed shades of gold, green, and blue. Then, in the middle of the browband went a trio of flat iron discs, small enough to fit in one’s palm. While the outer two bore overlapping circles, the middle was an overlap of squares and triangles.

“Well, I’m not fond of the idea of ghosts,” he explained. “Other things are easier to deal with, since you can actually hit them if they try to get you, but ghosts? I’d rather fight a dragon ten times my size.”

He glanced around. That other way were the ruins, and he would not head there without a very good reason. That meant that further ahead they’d find an entrance to the tunnels, even if it was a bit hidden. He started walking and waved at her.

He continued walking, knowing that Turin and her mule wouldn’t be far behind.