It has been some weeks that Guruthos reached and made his camp in Bree-land, and all that time he hasn’t been idle. Firstly, he found a spot to make his main camp, somewhere out of sight but able to see as far possible, then he started observing and learning the places. He became one with the environment, concealing himself between the trees and the other plants around. The first days he watched, calmly and patiently. He saw who was going to his farm, who was the brigand and who was the traveler. Nothing escaped his keen grey eyes as his mind was set to his task. To add to his concealment, Guruthos also hid Sylil, his loyal horse was left to feed and roam by his own, without its saddle or anything that would show that it belonged to someone. She was trained enough to be by his side if he’d call for her, so he was sure she’d be safe.
His gaze caught some movement, somewhere in the Northern Bree-fields late at night. He put on his belt with the five javelins on his back and strapped the shield over them. He kept the spear in his right hand as he made his way towards the smoke. The night concealed his presence and Guruthos easily reached the Old Greenway Fort, around the old ruins he saw brigands keeping watch over the two or three gates and smoke came from two places within. With light steps he walked around the ruins and got up on the hill overlooking the Fort, there he saw two brigands walking to and fro to each other, exchanging some words and laughing each time their steps brought them close to one another. Guruthos quietly dug his spear to the ground and took his dagger into his right hand, with silent steps he approached the first brigand and wrapped his left arm around the man’s body, shutting his mouth to prevent him from screaming. The blade of his dagger gently caressed the man’s throat and his blood started spilling from the wound, the brigand’s body twitched several times as he was dying and Guruthos hid it in the dark. Again, quietly he approached the second brigand and grabbed him the same why, he slit his throat as well and left the dead body near the first, hidden.
Now he was free to hear to what was happening there and maybe try to interfere if he’d deem the odds to his favour, though the brigands seemed too many for him alone. He took his spear and walked to the edge of the hill, close to the ruins, slowly he dug it into the fresh dirt again, behind him, letting it stand diagonally and sheathed his dagger to his back again. One by one he drew the javelins and dug them into the dirt as well, two to his left and two to his right, for easy access and held the fifth on his lap as he sat down, kneeling on his right leg.
Below him and around the fire where seven men, four where apparently brigands, judging by their looks and clothes, the other three seemed to be something much worse. They were wearing dark clothes with dark cloaks and hoods that hid their faces. Guruthos knew that they were coming from the North, it seems that what they were trying to do has failed, or these Angmarim found another way to go South. He sat there listening to what he could, since the men were talking quietly, as if they didn’t want anyone beyond the ruined walls to hear what was said. From the few words he caught here and there he was given the impression that they weren’t Angmarim, which troubled him greatly, what they could be, he wondered. The meeting didn’t last much longer after his arrival and after what seemed that the men reached an agreement the brigands gathered their belongings and took their leave, yet they left a cart that they were guarding. The other three figures whose faces he couldn’t see remained there around the fire. They were silent at first, or he couldn’t hear what they were saying but the one opposite of him was standing in front of the fire. His hood was too low and Guruthos couldn’t see his face until the man laughed and raised his head to the light of the fire. What he looked like made Guruthos grunt quietly with disgust and prepare to stand up, in front of him stood three half-orcs that had made a deal with the brigands. The Dunedain pushed himself up and tightened his grip around the javelin and pulled his right hand back, aiming at the orc.
Suddenly one of the other orcs poured something into the fire that made it go high and lighten up a little more, illuminating the surroundings for some metres more. For that short moment his figure was seen above the three and the first half-orc saw him and shouted loudly, the other two grabbed their swords and Guruthros threw the javelin. As the second and third half orc started running out of the ruin and towards the hill, the first was pierced by the javelin and fell backwards on the ground bleeding. Guruthos at once pulled the other javelins out and threw them in different directions for further use if needed, then took his spear and shield and disappeared, allying himself with the night. The two half-orcs reached the spot he was on and started sniffing and looking around them, remaining by each other’s side. They looked around carefully, trying to catch a glimpse of the man and when they didn’t they looked at each other ready to talk. Out of the darkness a javelin flew and pierced the one to the right, throwing it down into the fort, breaking some wooden crates that were filled with meat. The remaining orc started running towards where the javelin came and out of nowhere a spear swung horizontally and hitting his nose fell him to the ground. From out of the dark a man clad in green, wearing a mask, appeared, holding that very spear in his right hand, supporting it with his elbow as its edge reached his back, in his left hand he held a shield.
The night was dark but the light of the moon fell on the man’s face, from below the cowl the half orc saw his eyes wrinkling, evidently the man was smirking behind the mask. The half orc stood up and without a word stepped towards him and tried to attack, Guruthos ducked to avoid the sword and swept its feet from below. The half-orc fell again with a grunt and Guruthos hit it once in the face with the back edge of the spear to silent it and then finished it off by stabbing its chest. He gathered his javelins and strapped his shield on his back again and after making sure that no one heard the sounds and was coming he went down to search the camp. He saw that the crates contained meat and that the cart was full of weapons, evidently the brigands were supplying these half orcs. The weapons were enough to supply a small army, enough to cause trouble to a small town or village. The night was still young so he had time. Guruthos called Sylin and with the horse’s aid he pushed the cart somewhere to hide it temporarily and burned the half-orcs’ corpses.
His mind was filled with questions about what he saw and there was only one place he could find answers. He had to leave Bree-land briefly, what he achieved that night was a minor victory, gaining him some time, which time he’d use to gain answer as to what he saw that night! The dawn found him at his camp, taking only what is necessary for a quick trip to the North.
