It felt like he was moving for a long time but he didn’t have the strength to open his eyes, at some point he heard some growls, Pren’s image came to mind but he still didn’t open his eyes. Hours or days later, he couldn’t know, he heard some growls again, and someone cursing, he opened his eyes and saw Pren, ready to attack, or rather bite someone, he also saw that both men were in a cart travelling, he couldn’t say where. The cart’s wheel passed over a rock and the cart slightly jumped, bringing Fion’s head up and then down on the hard wood, straight on the spot that he was hit before and lost consciousness again.
It was getting colder and colder throughout the trip and he woke up again after the wound on his head got cold and ached. He lifted his head up and turned it left and right, grimacing, as each sound around him was multiplied in his head. He was in a cart, more specifically, in a cell on a cart, pushed by two horses, there were two, the driver and his companion and several men on horses around. Next to him was Pren, Fion saw that their hands were tied together behind their backs, Fion saw them passing through the North Downs and heading North. That’s when he realized where they were going, to a place he always wanted to go but he never did, till now… The cart passed through the steep hills, going up and down on them, as well as following the paths between them, having not been there before, Fion couldn’t tell where they were going, and the trip went on…
Fion was seated to the left and Pren to the right of the cart, back to back, he could only see what was to the left and by turning his head to the right Fion saw a black tower rising behind some hills. He kept looking at it until the cart stopped, he didn’t notice it, but he heard the door of the cage open, he turned to his left to see what was happening but the only thing he saw was a fist and everything turned black again. Pren’s growls awakened him, Fion tried to move and saw that he was tied to a post, with the wild man behind him, growling and snarling at those that passed from the spot, orcs, goblins, some short white creatures that looked like deformed starving children and some hooded men with red cloaks.
Those that passed in front of the post and the tied men looked at them with contempt and a look of disgust mixed with hatred. Pren looked at them threateningly and Fion could guess that the man was waiting only for a chance to attack, and then nothing would remain still. Fion assumed his serious look, inspecting everything, piercing everyone with his dark eyes, showing no emotion at all, the only thing into his mind was Rothrian and the place they were in, and the more he thought of her, the more he was convinced that he had nothing to lose. His eyes became more and more empty and a deep frown was formed on his face, yet he sat there watching, ready for a chance as well… To kill and die, taking as many as he could with him. The cold stopped affecting him, he became cold himself and waited…
Two orcs and one of those starving and deformed children came up to the two, the orcs kicked him on the torso once or twice, as well as Pren and untied Fion from the post and tied him to another chain, then lead him to a hut nearby. On the way there Fion looked around with his empty gaze, seeing the tall tower, the huts and buildings around it. There were some folk that seemed to be part of a tribe, they were not similar to the rest there at all, yet they gazed at him with the same hatred as them. Once they lead him into the hut they made him sit on a chair and tied him on it, to be still, then the short creature opened a box that was lying on the table and took out some blades.
The white haired creature started cutting his hair short, very short and talked to Fion in a mocking manner, “They say that you are brave and that you were after the three! Now you shall be thrown in the pool and fight, show us how good you are at it, since you have no wits!” and laughed. Fion remained silent, most of the time glancing outside the hut from the narrow point of entry in it. The creature cut his hair and then his beard, shaving him completely in the end and called the orcs to come and take him, as they unchained him from the chair and started pushing him outside it spoke in its mocking manner again, “Time to fight pretty boy! I only hope that you will last for more than a few hits!” and Fion went outside.
He was thrown in a small room with nothing but a chair and a small table in it, on the table was laying a black shirt, black shoes made of cloth and trousers. Fion wore them and took the wooden shield and mace that stood against the table, the shield was very little and wasn’t likely to handle more than three or four strong hits but the mace could prove useful. The orcs came into the room again and took him outside; they lead him to a spot under the tower where almost everyone was waiting. All seemed happy to see him die and shouted and screamed things about the fall of the Free People and the race of man, despite the fact that many of them were men. The orcs took the chains off him and pushed him into the circle, in the middle there was a fire. From the other side of the circle a tall man appeared, he held a sword and an axe and growled angrily, both the the man and Fion walked up to each other and got ready to fight.
“Welcome to Angmar man!” snarled the tall man and swung his axe towards Fion, who ducked to avoid it and tried to hit the man’s knee from his left and the man stepped back to avoid him, sending the sword to Fion’s left side. Fion blocked it with the shield and tried to hit the man again with the mace, the man blocked it with the axe and Fion found the chance for his favourite move… with a loud grunt Fion pushed his head slightly back, just to get some room for a thrust and sent it ahead, his forehead hitting the man’s face, making him stumble to the back. The man’s nose started bleeding and he closed his eyes, feeling dazed, Fion pulled his head back again and headbutted the man for a second time, his forehead bled from the strength of the hit and the third time he did it the man fell to his knees, leaning his head forward. It was the perfect angle and Fion used it, his knee met with the man’s face and he fell on the ground. He brought the mace up and smashed the man’s head. Then looked up at those around with gleaming eyes, burning with hatred and a bloodlust!
Four or five orcs rushed at him and chained him up, taking the weapons away and lead him back to the post, they tied him on it again near Pren who was still looking at them in the same way but now he was smiling, seeing Fion victorious and in blood. “Tomorrow you two fight together! More fun that way!” said an orc and Fion nodded in response in an unnatural voice “More fun indeed!” and pierced the orc with his gleaming eyes, empty and blooddrunk… His mind started to fill with the events of the last day and he remembered one of his meetings with Nellye, where she told him to message Rothrian and get her back. He was determined to get her back no matter what, and now that desire burned into him even more, it burned stronger than the cold of that foul land. His eyes started to fill again, this time they became warm and slowly he started being aware of his surroundings again, he had to get Roth back, he had to keep Pren alive, and he had to escape. That's who he is! It’d take more than some Angmarim to keep him down and away from everything, he turned the ring so that the sigil wasn’t hidden anymore and smirked as some creatures passed.
