[@13org] [@Silmaril] [@Vas Khaleen]

The young elleth tumvled from the elder's arms, yanking her hood over her. It was hardly the most comfortable being soaked through with rain. Not caring or really noticing the two orcs fall she scrambled for the hedge in which she had hidden away in. Both of the creatures of darkness did in fact fall, for they were full of the bloodlust of battle and wanting greed. Wincing at the cries and screams of the attack about her, Lathranien snatched up her bow and the quiver, shoving her way through the branches to stumble into the elven man once more. "Many thanks to you." Her words quiet as she rushed for the road. Wanting to be away before the elf realized. Before the orcs killed them all. Before things got worse.

As the orc turned to deliever a swing of his sword upon Ireth, he paused and began to limp off. For several hillocks away came the sound of a horn. And had ot not been the dark of night and raining one might have seen the cloaked figure of a women, the orcs running towards her with goods from the caravan, women and no few childern they had snatched away. Their numbers were diminished but it was no matter for the hard eyes that watched them. The task was done. They had suffiecent captivea for her means and if they needed more? There would be more about. The orcs growled and ripped a child from irs mother's grasp, limping from Ireth to join the flow of fleeing orcs. The ground, the camp they left behind them in shambled and the wails of mourning floating on the air. Many of their numbers had fallen but so too had many of the caravan. For it had been dark and the security of Darcyn and his men had been lacking. The Dwarves all stood and the Haradim woman with them. For all she was such they seemed to have warmed to her in the battle. Carts were overturned, wagons broken. Bodies of men, Darcyn's mostly, littered the bloodied ground with the bodies of orcs. But still the rain came. Hard and steady. As if to cleanse the earth of this taint. The woman whose child was taken wailed beside Ireth. Her child crying back, struggling as the orc ran.

Darcyn himself was chasing after the orcs, limping on one leg and cursing them fouly. His fist griiping his sword with white knuckles, any shield he had long since shattered. He cursed the orcs, the dwarves- for surely theor noise brought the dark servants to them. He swore at the elf for abandoning the foght then paused as he saw said elf and limped towards Agarwaen with a beginning of a barage of insults. Hos drunken battle overriding sense. Lathranien had sense enough to pause her flight from the elf and shrink back into the brush. Many in the camp knew a drunk Darcyn was a damgerous one. One on a battle fueled rage? Didnt bear thinking about. "-Damned pointy eared wench! Fleeing ter yer safe lil' forests whenever danger shows up! Cowardly tippy women with not a man among your lot! Cower in you cities while the rest of us bleed 'n die!" He snarled adding more words about Agarwaen's peferrence in suspected 'mates'. Darcyn looked like some crazed man and in most parts it was true. Cut up, his eyes were wide with more white showing than ever should.  His beard in a tangle and spitting the blood that filled his mouth from a busted lip and a few more lost teeth. He advanced on the elf sword brandished about in his rage. There were no lrvs here but to the Man... A elf was just as good, or just as bad.