It was a very windy cold autumn evening. The wind howled like a ghost haunting in the dead of night. Aragorn was gliding swiftly through the dense undergrowth of the Northern wilderness. His target was in his line of sight: a baby deer. This may be his only chance! He quickly took an arrow from his quiver and placed it on his bow, carefully pulling back the string with the skill of a master marksman. Within a split second the bow sang. The small deer had no time to react to this strange and unexpected noise before having an arrow slice through its throat. Aragorn approached it to inspect the carcass. Satisfied with his kill he flung it over his shoulder and began the short journey to the camping spot he had chosen earlier.
He travelled a league or two. It took him roughly twenty minutes to reach the chosen spot. Under a giant elm tree he erected his hammock using another tree to support the opposite side. He collected the driest wood he could find before setting about building a fire. He used almost all of his tinder on this particular fire because of the strong wind. It roared like thunder in the clouds as he attempted many times in vain to start the fire. After getting the fire up and running he prepared the deer for eating. He used a small bit of the corpse and stored the rest for another day. He fished out all the bones he could find before placing it over the fire to be cooked. Although he was not the best of cooks but he had learned a thing or two about preparing meals in the wild over the years. After a surprisingly excellent meal of the sweetest tenderest meat he could have hoped for. He doused the fire until only a few small embers remained before clambering into his hammock. However as he attempted to fall asleep something didn’t feel altogether right.
He stared up towards the stars listening intently for any sudden sound. He heard no footsteps, noises or anything out if the ordinary which would arouse his suspicions further, leaving him with no choice but to try to fall asleep once more. He fell into an uncomfortable sleep dreaming of nothing but evil things such as Goblins, Orcs and things of that sort. After a night of uneasy sleep Aragorn rose at dawn to continue his protection of the Northern lands. It was a cool clear morning. Most of the big wind had died during the night leaving only a small breeze which was quite warm. Again the place felt eerie and not right at all. His suspicions rose when he found a sort of orcish blade near a small river around midday. He found a large trail of footsteps. He examined the footsteps and the blade and came to the obvious conclusion that they were linked. He figured that it was a small band of Goblins due to the imprints in the soil. They were heading in the direction of the Misty Mountains. He proceeded to follow them and eliminate them. Aragorn continued to follow them all day halting only briefly every couple of hours only to refill his water container at nearby streams.
All of sudden there was a harsh cry a couple of hundred metres north of Aragorn’s position. He stealthily made his way toward the source of the sound and soon found the cause of the tense atmosphere and his suspicions. Goblins cast that type of feeling about a place. He retrieved his bow and one arrow from his under-used quiver and made ready to fire. It was only a small band of goblins (as he had expected) around eight at most. They were talking in their terrible language. It was horrible to have to listen to but as these were a threat to the northern lands Aragorn lingered to be rid of them. After a long couple of moments watching them Aragorn began his assault. His first arrow sailed past the smallest goblin’s head putting them all on high alert. He plucked out another arrow and prepared to fire. This time he didn’t miss he struck one of the bigger ones in the chest causing to fall to the ground dead. Confident he could finish off the rest with his sword he jumped from his hiding spot with the cry: “Elendil!” The goblins quickly turned to face this new sound they had been expecting. The smallest goblin made a lunge for him but a quick dodge and a decisive blow meant that particular goblin would not get up again.
He dropped two others in quick succession before standing to face the last five. The smallest two fled not desiring to be sliced up like their former companions. Two of the last three goblins came at Aragorn almost at once. The first swung a massive club at Aragorn nearly knocking his head clean off! He scrambled back to his and in doing so managed to cut one the goblin’s legs off causing it to stumble uncontrollably. He took control of this killing it with once quick slash to the goblins upper chest. The second leapt on top of Aragorn. A small struggle took place before the goblin seemed to be gaining the upper hand. However Aragorn had a trick up his sleeve. He quickly pulled out his belt dagger and forced it into the goblins neck causing warm black blood to drench his chest and face. The final goblin was most cunning and used Aragorn’s moment of disarray to swipe at him with his crooked goblin blade. His blade skills were not as advanced as his cunning so only managed to get one hit on Aragorn causing an open wound on Aragorn’s forearm. But Aragorn was not out of the battle just yet. He pulled out his dagger once more and with a ruthless tear sprinted at the goblin and plunged the blade into its eye. The goblin was blinded in one eye which left it disorientated. Aragorn seized this rare opportunity to finally finish off this goblin. He did do with a sweet strike to the neck of the creature s severing its head off with instantly. Blood sprayed all over the ground. This battle was over and this part of Middle-Earth was safe once more!
Chapter End Notes:
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