(continued from "What the Neighbor Knew - Part the First")
The old woman's body jerked backwards and her eyes closed as she slumped and then fell across the steps to her home, dead, with a black arrow protruding from her heart.
Finchley raised a hand to her cheek and felt blood from the shallow cut on her cheek left by the arrow. Her green eyes went wide with horror as she stumbled away from Missus Lind's body. Down the path, a dark figure, faceless and looking more like a shadow than a person, emerged from a bush, cruel bow held in its hands with yet another black arrow nocked. Beside that figure, a weathered looking Dwarf emerged, axes held at the ready.
One by one, more and more Dwarves and similar shadow figures, and even a few orcs, appeared from their hiding places near and about the house. It was almost as if they had been waiting this entire time.
Addiela jumped and immediately whistled for her bear and raven, Rollo and Morn as Nethrida, Eduwiges, and Ryn quickly drew their swords. Xandilif slipped SilverWand off her back, eyes surveying the area about them as Xanderian stepped back, her bow, Heartbreaker, held at the ready, and nocked three arrows. With no time to grieve or process her anguish or fear, Finchley pulled her daggers from her belt and moved backwards into a defensive stance.
"Well, this is just lovely," muttered Addiela before making a series of short whistles to the raven and bear. Morn shot straight up into the air and then divebombed towards the shadow figure with the bow while Rollo charged straight at him, teeth bared. However, the shadow figure disappeared from view in the blink of an eye, almost as if he was never there to begin with, and then reappeared closer to the rest of the party as the rest of their foes descended upon them.
From left and right, Dourhands and a few orcs came at the group, wielding scimitars and hammers alike, as more shadow figures like the first appeared, causing chaos with their ability to disappear and reappear at will. While Nethrida, Eduwiges, Addiela, and Ryn struggled with their foes, the latter incurring damage but continuing to fight on, Xanderian managed to dispatch a few of the shadowy figures with precise shots from her arrows, tipped with explosive material.
Xandilif remained closest to Finchley, fending off those who came too close with SilverWand. She noticed to her displeasure that while these foes seemed intent on attacking the others and herself, they made no real move to harm Finchley and instead made multiple attempts to grab at her. Again, and again, she parried any attempts where she could as Finchley evaded their grasp and defended herself. The shadow figures seemed to bypass simple attacks and dispersed only when Xanderian’s explosive arrows caught them. It was almost as if this was not an actual attack. And, as Finchley fended off a Dourhand, putting an end to his movement with a quick slice of her dagger down the length of his arm, it occurred to the Champion that this was something else entirely.
Yet another shadow figure appeared in front of Finchley, arm outstretched as he came closer. She backed away and evaded his grasp at the last second, feeling a prickle of pain in her left side as she barely brushed against the side of him. About her, Eduwiges dispatched a few more foes as Addiela narrowly avoided an axe blow. Rollo and Morn worked in tandem, distracting and then mauling Dourhands and some few orcs to the ground. Ryn struggled with another orc she had severely injured that was attempting to bring her to the ground. Nethrida took a blow to the face as her footing faltered but remained in position and parried her foe’s attempt to slash at her with his scimitar.
But then… everything seemed to come to a halt. The shadow figure before Finchley had grown tired of this game. Though he appeared to have no mouth, his voice rang out over the din as he chanted in the ancient tongue of Númenor. The foes still left about them all suddenly dropped like flies in summer and then rapidly withered away into dust. Other shadow figures disappeared from sight, as if they had never existed independently at all, and Finchley watched in confusion and horror as the one before her seemed to grow in size until he towered over her. He stretched out his hand again, though he made no attempt to grab her. Though there were no storm clouds in the sky above them, the very air seemed to crackle as dark energy burst from his form, hitting all but Nethrida, who had been reeling slightly from the injury to her face.
A sense of unease and a wave of anger and anguish washed over them though it didn’t seem to be their own. Then came the torrent of voices; angry voices, scared voices, voices of many young children. The shadow figure leered as Finchley broke down crying, falling to her knees and clutching at her head and her left side, which still burned like fire. Xandilif shook her head like a bull bothered by a fly, ignoring the voices and moving to the woman’s side, SilverWand still held at the ready. Xanderian, however, sank to the ground as well, pulling her knees up, and screamed. There were too many voices, too many recent voices... And one voice in particular. Eduwiges rushed to her side, features pinched as she struggled to bear up under the onslaught to her own mind.
"Your anger is not mine!" shouted Ryn as she recovered from the initial shock surprisingly quickly, right eye glowing like a pale moon. She started moving toward the shadowy figure, unafraid and undeterred.
Nethrida, having recognized the language the figure spoke but not the words, pushed through her pain and gripped her sword tightly and forced herself into an upright position to follow after Ryn. "I wont... let you tarnish... the legacy of Númenor!"
Addiela bent at the waist and folded in on herself, completely ignoring the pain from her recent surgery. Her eyes closed as her hands clutched her ears. "No! Not again! I will not be taken again!! Make it stop! I warned you, I warned you all!!!" The screams of the children she heard turned into images of the screaming heads around the Manslayer's neck; her mind was instantly taken back to that moment. The chanting, the shadow, the chill in her veins and the pain in her heart… Death and despair. Addie's whole body shuddered and she collapsed to the ground, her mind seeming to shut down completely.
Xandilif stepped between the shadow figure and Finchley, face set with determination, and lifted SilverWand, the blade bursting into light yet again, even brighter than it had been in recent days. "Enough," she commanded in booming Adûnaic. "You have what you came for. You know what will come next. Whatever your purpose, whatever your ploy, she is not alone."
Nethrida felt the power of SilverWand course through her light a blaze. She straightened her posture, a look of steely determination and anger etched on her face, despite the trail of crimson trickling down her cheek. "You are doomed to ruin," she sneered at the shadow figure as she launched forward to slash at it with her own sword. "Like the King's Men of old." Ryn followed suit, a faint glow, much like the one encompassing her eye, could be seen covering her sword and even her forearms. Rollo, enraged by Addiela’s state charged forward from the side, sharp teeth bared, ready to maul him to the ground.
Finchley lifted her head to stare up at the shadow figure through tear-filled eyes. She grit her teeth forced herself to stand, leaving her daggers where she dropped them as she reached for the new one Xandilif had tucked into her belt earlier. "G-Get out... Get out of here!" she yelled shakily, raising that dagger and stabbing downward into the shadow that made up the figure’s body. "Get out of here!" Her expression and voice were filled with anguish and anger but she still held fast against total despair.
The shadow figure merely stood still, accepting the blows that came as if he had been expecting them. Holes appeared on him as the air began to warp within and about him. He laughed maliciously and slowly began to dissipate into the nothingness from whence he came. "Well done! My master will be most pleased to know his prized possession is looked after..." His harsh laughter was choked off by a horrid scream as he winked out of existence.
Time stood still… until everyone remembered to take a breath. Xandilif staggered to one knee, her use of SilverWand’s power taking a toll. Ryn rested her hands on her knees and took a few deep breaths as the light in her eye faded.
As Finchley struggled to recover, yet another figure, a flesh-and-blood man with a lazy eye and wielding a dagger, hurtled out of the underbrush, knocking her down hard onto her stomach. "No!" he screamed frantically; his one good eye wide with madness. "It will not be! She will not return... She cannot return! The vessel must die!"
Before any could react, the dagger plunged downward into the woman’s back…
Except, it did not. For there, having thrown himself in the way, was the kobold, Nik. Blood ran from the large gash now in his side as the goofy, blonde Hobbit wig fall off of his furry head. He coughed blood and then looked up at the now startled madman. He blew a fine, mist-like powder into the man’s face and horrible pustules and burns erupted on his face and even the rest of his body.
The madman reeled backwards, twisting and frothing at the mouth, and then fell to the ground. He struggled and screamed for a moment until his body went limp and still. His hand, outstretched upon the ground opened slightly to reveal a mark upon his palm; a glowing red triangle with three lines running through it.
Finchley tried to catch her breath as she sat up, quickly pulling the kobold into her arms, eyes wide with shock. "Nik! What are you doing here?!"
"Guard... Finchbutt," coughed Nik in reply, closing his eyes.
"Dammit, Nik," sighed Xandilif, slowly rising to her feet once more.
Finchley placed a hand over Nik's stab wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Tears continued to escape her as she looked to her companions, seeing Addie and Xan on the ground and the others worse for wear. It was only a small relief that the kobold was still breathing and she began to sob quietly as she stood to her feet. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
...
Her sobs eventually calmed as she and her friends cleaned up the scene as best they could and made the trek back to Bree-town and the Prancing Pony. But there was no fixing the breaking of her heart as she left her childhood village behind her, knowing that she could never bring herself to return there again for a very long time.
