Another day in Mirkwood. Kiriaz felt sorrow for the woods, they felt strangled by the darkness which spread from Dol Guldur. However, he could not dwell on their plight - Kiriaz knew that the only way to save Mirkwood was to defeat the Enemy holed up in the dark fortress.
The elf flexed his leg muscles, testing them for any remaining maladies caused by the spider venom. The muscles tightened without problem and Kiriaz hefted his shield. 'Ost Galadh,' he thought, 'it is time for us to press forward.' But in order to advance, Kiriaz knew the Malledhrim would have to defend their flanks. Flanks which contained orc encampments and spider-infested hills.
Kiriaz decided he would head south first, where orcs and worse had been sighted. As he pulled up his hood, one of the wardens of the outpose approached him.
"You are Kiriaz, the warden of Lothlorien, aren't you?" asked the Malledhrim.
"Indeed I am, how may I help you, mellon?" he replied.
The Malledhrim shifted position and smiled, "I believe that I can help you. I have heard of your exploits in the defence of Lorien and in our siege of Mirkwood, so I know you are worthy of my wisdom. I can teach you a series of attacks that will allow you to cast a spell which will replenish your energy, should you tire in combat, whilst you strike. Would you be willing to learn?"
Kiriaz nodded enthusiastically without hesitation, "such a spell would be more than welcome, especially with how long this siege will likely take."
The Malledhrim smiled once again and proceeded to run through the stances, strikes and movements required to cast the spell. Kiriaz mastered the spell quickly and set about using it to recover from the training.
"You are well on your way to mastering the combat form of Wardens, Kiriaz," commented the Malledhrim, "I will leave you now to complete the tasks before you. Good luck!"
* * *
The trees seemed silent and many dead as Kiriaz crept toward an orc encampment. He was given an important task: to devestate the morale of the orcs and make them fear battle with the Malledhrim.
Kiriaz had devised a strategy along with one of the tacticians in the southern encampments: he would burn the orc banners, then climb to the highest point within the orc encampment and raise the banner of the Malledhrim. So far he had avoided detection, slaying a few orc scouts and hunting wargs, but now he approached the camp. He was going to be detected soon, alright.
A whistle got the attention of a pair of orc guards who stood by the entrance to the camp. As they wandered toward the sound, weapons drawn, Kiriaz snuck in, setting a banner alight as he went.
After a quick scan across the camp, Kiriaz determined that a lookout tower would be the optimal position to fly his own banner; somewhere high and easily defendable. And if the tide turned against him, he could always jump down.
Silently, the orc manning the tower was dispatched and the Malledhrim flag was raised. Now was the time to gain the attention of the orcs. Kiriaz pulled a horn from his belt and let loose a resounding call.
All the camp seemed still and silent. Time seemed to crawl for a few moments before the orcs turned, as one, to the tower. Then time sped up. Every orc drew their weapon and charged toward the tower, yelling as they came.
With one hand holding the banner's post, Kiriaz lowered the horn and drew his sword. Now was the time to test his new training. The orcs were forced to face him single file, 'another advantage to the tower,' Kiriaz thought, 'now all I need to do is outlast their morale.'
Several orcs fell to their deaths as they fought one another to get at the elf. But those at the front saw the skill of their opponent and felt fear claw at them. Kiriaz's sword moved so quickly with unerring accuracy that the air before him appeared as a wall of blades spinning. The spectacle was all the more impressive as a blue aura surrounded the elf as he repeatedly cast the replenishing spell.
The area surrounding the tower was littered with orc bodies when they finally broke and fled. Very few had survived, Kiriaz noted. In fact it seemed there were more dead than alive. The survivors would soon spread the word of the wrath of the elves, which would ruin the morale of the orcs.
Kiriaz sheathed his sword and raised the banner of the Malledhrim high once more, loosing another blast of sound from his elven horn, before jumping from the tower and making his way out of the camp. It would not do to remain here long; surely the orcs will return with greater numbers.
***
With a smirk, the Malledhrim tactician relieved Kiriaz of the banner.
"It is done," Kiriaz said, "the orcs fear us now. Perhaps this will make it easier for us to clear them from the forest."
"I hope so," replied the Malledhrim, "how did you hold so many back?"
Kiriaz pulled back his hood and looked the Malledhrim in the eye, "I chose a defensible location and fought with both blade and magic."
The tactician looked appraisingly at Kiriaz, "I did not take you for a wizard."
"You suspected rightly, for I am no wizard. My magic is not as potent and has fewer uses."
Kiriaz's response recieved a raised eyebrow, "then what do you call the spell you used?"
"The Dark Before Dawn"
