The man stood on a hill overlooking the Southern part of the North Downs, from afar he saw orcs running back to their camps, scattered and with their ranks broken, except for a shield-bearing company which marched in order. He clenched his right fist that hanged to his side and drew a deep breath, “Those stupid orcs may have destroyed half our preparations…” he thought and pulled his red hood back a little, to allow himself to smell the air, narrowing his eyes. He decided to spend the rest of the day there, to keep his eye on Trestlebridge, while his two companions rode South into Evendim.
From his position he could see the road to Trestlebridge as far as Amon Raith, though the North part wasn’t easily seen, he was there for the town only. What happened there intrigued him and he decided to enter in secret after sundown. He left his horse on the tree, without it’s saddle, out of sight and far enough so that it wouldn’t be heard and put on a thick black cloak and made his way to the town. When he got within sight of the guards on the bridge he bent his back a little, to remind an old man, and continued past it. He joined a band of travelers, keeping in the back of it, so he passed by the guards unnoticed, most of them were busy pushing the carcasses of the orcs away. Those that made the inquiries talked only to those in front and let them in.
Into the small town he saw the people trying to fix what was broken, cleaning the roads from the bodies and broken weapons, and anything else that they could do to keep that night behind. The man kept his head low and only observed, trying to find out more about the previous night. He saw some strange folk who seemed new to the town, talking to the inhabitants, he also saw them asking people. Those folk were mostly keeping to themselves and that raised his suspicions about them, they had something to do with it all in his mind.
After seeing what he wanted to see he decided to leave, but this time to pass through Bree-land. He made one last circle around the town and then headed to the Southern Gate to continue on foot, what he didn’t notice was that his dagger fell from his belt. A dagger with a curved blade, in the middle of the cross guard, if one looked carefully, they could see an engraving, depicting a drop of blood with three stains underneath, it was painted red. The man continued South and after reaching the fields he disappeared somewhere in the trees, becoming one with the night…
