Ranger of the North
One month later, a solitary ranger could be seen running through the forest. He ran silently until he reached a small, well-built shelter.
"Jacob! 15 orcs and 2 mountain trolls coming from 8 o'clock! Heavily armored and heavily armed! Looks like they're going to war... Is there a fucking war we don't know about?!" Aragorn reported.
Narzug pondered and replied, "They are probably heading east... A lot of evil has been attracted to something in the east for a few years... How do we proceed? The trolls could be a problem, especially if they are armored for war..."
"We definitely need the element of surprise! We could plan a small ambush, I already have a few good spots in mind." Aragorn planned, "we should first reduce their numbers piece by piece, the difference in numbers is too great!"
"A good plan but not necessarily needed... if you can distract the trolls, I'll take care of the 15 orcs first," said Narzug, a grin spreading across his face.
"15 Jacob, there are 15! I know you're good, but aren't you overestimating yourself a bit?" Aragorn replied, he didn't want the mission to end prematurely.
"Believe in me Aragorn, 15 orcs are nothing!"
Minutes later, the two stood on either side of a small ravine. From the north, they could see a well-equipped band of orcs and the two mountain trolls marching towards them. They were led by a small orc carrying several throwing spears on his back.
Narzug signaled to Aragorn with his eyes to get ready, then waited a moment and jumped directly onto the first orc with a mighty leap.
Ira flashed in the cold light of the northern sun and split the first orc from head to toe. A hearty laugh on his lips, Narzug threw himself directly into the crowd.
There were still fourteen in number, each with scarred faces, shaggy fur, and yellow eyes glowing with malice. The orcs grunted and roared, their foul teeth flashing in the light.
The first orc, a massive colossus with black tusks, stormed forward. But before he could swing his club, his head lay bloodstained on the ground. Narzug had struck, Ira hit deadly. The next orc, with scarred skin and a pierced ear, attacked from the side. But he too was cut apart by Narzug's merciless axe, his guts spilling onto the forest floor.
A particularly wild orc, the leader with his throwing spears, roared his warriors forward. One after the other they stormed at Narzug, but each ended up in a bloody mass. An orc, whose face was disfigured by burn scars, tried to attack from behind, but Narzug turned around in a flash and cut off his legs. Screaming, the orc went down before Narzug finished him off.
The remaining orcs, with matted fur and hideous armor, fought desperately, but it was in vain. Narzug mowed them down, their bodies piling up around him. When the last orc- with torn ears, an angry expression and wielding a throwing spear- fell an eerie silence reigned. Narzug stood alone among the remains of his enemies.
At the same time Narzug jumped into the crowd, Aragorn shot an arrow at the first mountain troll, hitting it directly in the thick nose. A wound that did not impair the troll, but one that made it mighty angry. Immediately, its small, stupid eyes locked onto the ranger above it, and the mountain troll began climbing up the side of the ravine.
Aragorn drew his bow again and shot at the second troll, hitting it in the shoulder. Unimpressed, this one ran towards Narzug, who had already killed the first orc.
Panicked, Aragorn looked at Narzug but was astonished to see that he had already mowed down half the orcs, as if fighting children and not orc warriors. And within the next few seconds, all the orcs were dead, leaving only the mountain trolls alive.
"I thought you were distracting both trolls!" yelled Narzug as he dodged the mighty war hammer of one troll. The impact on the ground felt like a small earthquake.
"Sorry! I'm busy with the another one here, and you looked tastier to the other!" Aragorn shouted back, continuing to shoot arrows into the face of the first mountain troll. By now, it looked as if it had fallen into a giant hedgehog, with more than ten arrows sticking out of its face.
Aragorn kept shooting merrily, his quiver still half full, and the troll an easy target while climbing.
Narzug had it tougher. He had to keep dodging the troll's hammer to avoid being crushed into pulp. Although he believed his body would largely withstand the impact unscathed, he didn't want to test it. It wasn't necessary either. After each dodge, he inflicted a new gaping wound on the troll, and soon it fell face-first to the ground. Narzug made sure and split the troll's head with Ira.
Meanwhile, the troll fighting Aragorn was also slowing down. By now, arrows were sticking out of both of its eyes, and it was losing a lot of blood. Finally, the troll's rage subsided, and its survival instinct kicked in. It ran about 10 meters before collapsing, succumbing to the dozens of arrow wounds.
Aragorn also climbed into the ravine and looked at the massacre Narzug had caused.
"Wow, Jacob, you really are a monster!"
Narzug said nothing and began cleaning blood and brain matter off Ira. He was displeased: "That word again... monster... it doesn't sit well with me at all."
Four months into their mission, the next battle took place. While Narzug was keeping watch, he saw a group of Dunland men approaching with a few slaves from the North. He quickly alerted Aragorn to the slavers.
"Let's capture them and free the slaves. No one deserves such a fate!" proclaimed Aragorn.
"Why do you want to capture them? This scum is no better than the orcs or trolls!" replied Narzug.
"But they are humans! No matter how wild or depraved they are, they are still humans! We can change them!"
"You called me a monster... these men before you are monsters... they have full knowledge and understanding of what they are doing to these people, and yet you want to spare them?! Wake up, Aragorn... they are no different from orcs and trolls! No, they are worse, they have chosen this path for themselves!"
Narzug almost shouted at Aragorn. After a few moments, Aragorn nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Alright, let's free the slaves!"
The night was dark and cold as Aragorn and Narzug sneaked through the dense forest. Their eyes were fixed on the small group of Dunlanders, who were struggling through the underbrush.
The Dunlanders, coarse men with shaggy hair and wild eyes, were leading a chain of slaves. These poor souls, chained together and marked by exhaustion, stumbled behind their cruel captors.
The Dunlanders were armed with rough leather armor and rusty swords. Their faces were scarred and dirty, and the stench of cheap liquor and unwashed flesh emanated from their mouths. They spoke in a harsh, guttural language and laughed cruelly as they mocked the slaves' weakness.
The leader of the group, a huge man with a greasy beard and a glowing eye, was particularly vicious. He carried an axe, its blade smeared with blood and worn down.
Aragorn almost felt sick at the sight of the slaves' condition. Many had festering wounds, where it seemed the Dunlanders had toyed with their knives on the slaves. All the women had torn clothing and suspicious stains of male bodily fluids in the crotch area, even the youngest, who were still children. The women had empty looks, devoid of any hope. The male slaves were almost all bruised and bloody, showing signs of days of torture.
The initial reluctance in Aragorn's eyes gave way to firm determination. He nodded to Narzug.
Suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps broke the eerie silence of the forest. The Dunlanders looked up and saw two figures rushing towards them. Aragorn's sword flashed in the moonlight, while Narzug raised his heavy axe with a mighty swing.
The Dunlanders hastily formed a defensive line, but their drunken reflexes and lack of cohesion left them ill-prepared. Aragorn was the first to reach the Dunlanders. His sword cut through the air in a deadly arc, slashing the throat of the first enemy, who fell to the ground with a gurgling scream. Blood sprayed in all directions as the warrior broke into the Dunlanders' frontline. Narzug followed closely, his axe crushing the ribs of another man with a terrifying crunch.
The screams of the Dunlanders filled the night as the two fighters broke into their ranks.The Dunlanders fought wildly and desperately, but they were no match for the deadly precision and relentless pace of their attackers.
One of the Dunlanders, a young man with matted hair and blotchy cheeks, tried to attack Aragorn with a dagger. But Aragorn parried the blow effortlessly and drove his sword deep into the attacker's chest, who fell to the ground with wide eyes.
Another Dunlander, a huge man with a jagged sword, screamed in rage and swung his weapon at Narzug. But Narzug dodged the blow and smashed his axe into the attacker's skull with a brutal swing. Bones shattered and blood sprayed as the man collapsed dead.
The remaining Dunlanders panicked and tried to flee, but there was no escape. Aragorn and Narzug were like two furies, mowing down their enemies. One man after another fell under their deadly blows. The Dunlander leader roared with rage and swung his axe at Aragorn, but a quick sidestep severed his hand from his arm before another blow ended his life.
Blood covered the ground, and the cries of the dying gradually faded into the silent night. Aragorn and Narzug stood panting over the corpses of their enemies, their weapons dripping with blood.
The Dunlanders were defeated, every last one of them dead or dying. The darkness enveloped the forest again as the two fighters cleaned their bloody blades and turned to the chained slaves.
Without hesitation, Aragorn ran towards the tormented slaves and smashed the chains with his sword in one mighty blow. He expected to see joy in the eyes of the freed, but was bitterly disappointed.
No reaction came from the slaves to their newly gained freedom.
They stared emotionlessly at Aragorn and Narzug.
Only one of the women moved and then collapsed to the ground. Aragorn caught her and held her gently. "Please release us, my lord, our spirits have already died at the hands of our tormentors, only our bodies are still breathing. Please end this suffering," she said in a soft and fragile voice. Then she drew her last breath. Aragorn could not move, tears streaming continuously down his cheeks.
Narzug, who had heard everything, slowly pulled Aragorn away from the slaves. Then he raised Ira and let the axe come down on the first slave's skull.
But contrary to expectations, Ira did not hit bone but the hard steel of Aragorn's sword.
"How can you! These are innocent people you want to kill. We can still help them! They are not dead yet! Or are they monsters to you like the Dunlendings?" Aragorn shouted furiously.
"You heard them, Aragorn! They are already dead, their bodies just don't know it yet. Do you see the slightest spark of life in their eyes? Their hearts are silent, no song will be sung by them! You can't save all lives! I will fulfill their request!" Narzug answered with an eerily calm voice.
He raised his axe again, but Aragorn stood in his way. "Then release me from my life as well. If you kill innocent people, you might as well kill me too!"
Narzug struck, but not with his axe, rather with his fist. Aragorn collapsed like a wet sack, unconscious.
Aragorn awoke to sunlight falling on his face. He jolted up and saw that he was back in the shelter, Narzug was at the watch post.
Without comment, he ran back to the scene from the night before.
Three hours later he returned with tears in his eyes and anger in his voice: "You monster! You didn't even bury them. Just left them lying like slaughtered cattle. You monster! Answer me!"
Aragorn approached Narzug, who remained silent. However, anger shimmered in his eyes.
"Answer me, Jacob! Why?! Why did they deserve this?"
Aragorn raised his fist to strike, but stopped and said quietly, "Why?! Answer me... you are nothing more than a cruel monster!"
Those were the last words they exchanged for the rest of the year. Not completely, of course, but at least outside of work and danger. No more private conversations by the campfire, no more legends or sagas.
No noteworthy battles occurred, and so Aragorn and Narzug made their way back to Fornost after the year was over.
They were festively welcomed by the Dunedain. Lindëwen was already expecting Narzug and Aragorn: "Welcome back Jacob and Aragorn. And congratulations! You may now call yourselves Rangers of the North!"
--
Hello Maggots!
The age of Men is over. The time of the Orcs has come.
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