Torrigan marched with the recruits under his command from the West Gate of Bree, along the highway of the Southern Bree-fields. They marched in file, each of them wary; the findings in Bree and the attitudes of the townsfolk had unsettled them. Torrigan had much on his mind as he walked in dusk's light on the ancient cobbled road, between the ruins and green rolling hills. Aside from the occasional howl of a wolf, who welcomed the oncoming night, there was no further sign of any trouble.
They began to see the flicker of firelight and swaying lanterns as they approached Adso's build site. The sound of men, women and hobbit-folk preparing for the night reached them as they marched in. Torrigan hoped to hear of any travellers on the road, any sign of the Dunlending's movement.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Torrigan heard a sharp crack, like the pop of wood sap in a campfire but much louder. He whirled, shield rolling from his back, as one of the recruits, a young woman named Sumu, cried loudly and pointed at a crossbow bolt that had ricocheted off the cobbles at her feet. Torrigan roared a command and quickly the recruits ran for cover. Turning, shield raised, he drew his longsword. Its long, rippling steel blade caught the sun's dying rays and shined a deep blood red, mirroring and enhancing what light remained. His eyes searched in the dusk for the attacker. He staggered backwards as a second bolt sprouted from his shield. He saw his recruits making for cover; Rionar running and sliding underneath Adso's cart, Sumu following suit, Denerick making for a stack of wooden crates, and decided to do the same, running swiftly, crouched, for the cover of the still unfinished building.
He searched for the attacker once more, looking across the road for any sign of whoever it was who sought to kill him and his company. The women, men and hobbits from the camp ran and took cover wherever they could. From behind a tent he spotted a head poke up. Without pause he ran, as fast as he could, around the other side of the tent. He saw a woman's figure, garbed in a hauberk of red and black with her face hooded and masked, pointing her crossbow towards the newly arrived Fuerlan. He roared a challenge and charged at her. She turned, firing the crossbow pointblank at him. Torrigan's shield cracked loudly as the second bolt lodged alongside the first and he continued his charge. The woman side stepped just before impact and swirled in a blur of red and sable.
Torrigan span his sword in his hand and faced the assassin. The eyes under the mask shined brightly as, upon dropping the crossbow, she drew two swords and attacked him. Taking one sword on his shield and deftly knocking the other aside with his own he countered, swinging for the woman's left shoulder. With expected agility the assassin did the same, catching his sword and then attacking with both of hers, one aiming for his right arm and the other sweeping across his chest. He brought his shield across, knocking one sword away with its rim and twisted bodily, spinning on the ball of his left foot. His sword parried the second of the assassin's, continuing with his momentum as his body span gracefully. It came flashing round in a full arc; a swooping and vicious slash at the woman's right shoulder.
The assassin was forced to duck quickly, Torrigan's longsword clipping the top from her hood. She sprang forward and tried to attack his chest with both her swords. Torrigan planted his right foot and dug the balls of his feet in. He bulled forward unexpectedly, his shield driving down the right sword and his own sword locking with the other. Dragging his sword down the blade of the assassin's and, with a dextrous flick and twist of his wrist, he sent her blade spinning up into the air. Its glistening surface caught the sun as it span.
Rionar jumped on the opportunity and attacked then with his own shield, trying to knock the assassin off balance. Partly succeeding, he drew the ire from the now beleaguered woman. She slashed at him and Sumu with her remaining sword. Rionar backed off and Sumu drew her axe, holding it two handed and trying to shunt away the attacker. The woman knocked Sumu's axe to the ground in her fear-driven fury. Torrigan, suddenly in great fear of his recruit's safety and wishing to end the fight before they were injured, took two steps forward and raised his shield arm up and, in a punching motion, putting all of his considerable size and strength behind it, drove it down in a vicious strike to the back of the assassin's head. The assassin, caught off guard, fell to the ground as the shield struck the base of her skull.
As a puppet whose strings had been cut the woman fell, blacking out. With surprising speed she came to and rose to her hands and knees, trying to crawl desperately from the fight. Denerick kicked her back to the floor and she rolled onto her back, looking up at Torrigan. Torrigan stepped forward and, with a flourish of his longsword that caught the final red rays of the setting sun as it sunk behind the Old Forest, drove the point of his sword through the assassin's chest, its point digging into the earth beneath her.
Torrigan pulled the sword from the assassin. She shrieked, loud and high; a death wail that echoed across the fields and into the night. With her last strength she stabbed wildly out at Torrigan's groin. The sword sliced through the leather and cut neatly through a link in the chainmail at his thigh, cutting him in a thin, inch-long line. Torrigan, his adrenaline pumping, ignored it. The woman, dropping her sword and with blood frothing at her mouth, murmered something in a strange tongue.
Torrigan looked down at his bloody longsword. The blood of the assassin had coalesced in flowing lines, much like the arteries from which they came, along the length of his blade. They flowed up towards the hilt and then vanished, seemingly into the rippling steel itself. Torrigan stood, aghast, looking intently at his sword as the woman spoke in halting Westron. Torrigan heard only something about his Captain before looking down at the woman as her eyes rolled back and her soul passed into the Void.
A period of silence came on the group. The recruits stood still; some in shock, others in disgust, some in awe, as the crickets began to chirp unheeded in the night. One recruit, Torrigan knew not which, mentioned something about taking prisoners. Torrigan silenced him and looked to Fuerlan who had stood still, watching the woman die.
"I want the body taken back to the Hall. Someone find a mule from the camp and strap it to it... Well done recruits, you did the Guard proud."
Torrigan rubbed at the now stinging cut on his leg as his recruits looked amongst eachother and began to carry out his orders. From far above, beneath the light of the newly risen moon, a raven cried harshly into the night.
