Gaildrin approached the stronghold of Gramsfoot. He was alone, and intended to enter unnoticed, and see what secrets he may learn from his enemies. He viewed the fort from afar, trying to figure what the best entrance would be. The camp seemed to be quiet, much of the inhabitants were asleep, and the Orc guards seemed to be tired as well, obviously made to take long watches, with little rest in between.
The young captain decided the best way to gain entrance would be to sneak close to the gate of the fort, take one of the guards unaware, and leave the other to stay in his near unconscious state while he slipped through. Gaildrin moved forward, being sure to stay in the shadows of the great bonfires and torches that were scattered around the camp. As he approached one of the guards slowly, he drew a small knife from his belt, and readied his arm to strike. Like a flash of light, he attacked the guard, slitting his throat, so he could not call for help. He laid the corpse in the shadows near the base of the wall, and moved through the gate silently.
Sneaking between tents, battlements, and sleeping Orcs, Gaildrin approached what seemed to be the command tent, based on its markings and size. A faint light glowed from within, which seemed to be that of a candle. As Gaildrin slipped through the opening of the tent, he saw a few sleeping Orcs, along with a crate near the back of the tent. He opened the crate slowly, as to not wake any of the sleeping enemies, and looked through what seemed to be documents and messages concerning recent battle plans. he paged through the papers, trying to find anything of importance, when suddenly he was struck from behind, and knocked unconscious.
He awoke in what seemed to be a forest, lying on the ground, surrounded by a large group of Angmarim and Orcs. His torso was badly wounded, and he felt a tearing pain in his head.He was beginning to come to his senses, when a large Angmarim, clad in dark grey armor kicked him in the chest. "What did you expect to find, fool?" jeered the Angmarim, "Did you think you could learn our plans? Perhaps to gut us in our sleep? You did not truly think you could enter the jaws of a beast, and exit, as though we did not know of your presence!"
"Well", said Gaildrin, along with a sputtering cough, "It was easy enough to enter, but the exit doesn't seemed to go as I planned." Gaildrin grinned, but was met with another kick to the gut.
"Arrogant fool, I feel insulted that you would expect so little of us. Although I think I may overlook the insult, fore you have brought me a fine gift indeed." The Angmarim flourished Auth Gwaew in the air, "This is a fine blade, you have brought me, made by the men of Númenor, if I am not mistaken. It will be a fine weapon to wield, and will spill much blood through the white streets of Annúminas." The Angmarim grinned like a wolf looming a crippled lamb.
"Well, I would kill you here, although I much prefer your death to be slow and painful. it will be a pity I won't be here to hear your whimpering, although the thought of it shall have to prove good enough." The Angmarim leaned over Gaildrin, and slowly dragged Auth Gwaew down his side, from underneath his arm, to just above his hip. "Let you cries and screams strike fear into all who hear the name Balhest!" then the Angmarim led his company away, to leave Gaildrin alone, to feel the pain of his own blade, which he swore to keep safe.
His vision grew dim, and then fell into darkness...
