By the time she reached the main camp of the free people most of those seeking refugee there were already settling in as best as possible. The healers had their hands full - many were wounded and some others, among the new workers, were shaken by fear and their eyes still reflected the terror of their first encounter with the hideous face of the war in the moors. They probably regretted leaving their homes and most likely some of them would leave at morning first light, never to return to these places.
An elf was crying desperately while another held her in her arms, she found out that someone she loved had died -the first one- at the Lumber Camp and in the rushed evacuation his comrades did not even manage to recover his body. She was repeating something, hard to understand, probably a name.
A dwarf kneeled next to a dead body, so bloodied that the face was unrecognizable, but for sure dear to him. The blood on the right half of his armor showed a clear trace where he carried the body -dead or still alive then- and his axe,thrown in the dirt next to them stained with blood the dirt around. His face was like stone, and gray of sweat and dirt : you could not read on it anything :not despair,not anger,nothing. He keeled there like life left him as well, now just a statue of a faithful companion.
A young man was desperately holding a standard, embracing it with tears in his eyes and an expression of powerless anger. He was wounded as well, pale and probably in pain but still standing, like drawing strength of that piece of cloth and the symbol it was.
She saw Ruthion and another, a very tall and dark looking man, preparing to leave the camp, most likely to scout to assess the situation, dressed as to camouflage best and she walked towards them to offer to join them. Ruthion shook his head before she said anything “Not this time, the two of us is enough for this. See if they go to assess Tol Ascaren and Lugazag, they might need you there.”
“Those were taken too?!” she asked, remembering the fires that she saw.
Ruthion nodded thougthfully and she almost did not expect other answer, yet the answere came and was more like a conclustion to himeself:
“They prepared this well, and they got here more reinforcements than we knew of.” He bowed his head in an informal greeting and turned to leave.
“Return safely!” she wished them and Ruthion’s man companion turned for a brief moment and bowed politely, in thanks to her well wishing. Soon they were out of sight into the darkness.
She walked towards the map tables by the fire. A tall woman in heavy armor was organizing the scouting for the other two fortresses lost that night and the ones that were to leave to announce the news and call to Glan Vraig. A white-bearded dwarf stepped forward offering his ravens to announce the dwarf-held forts from far and Turuviel thought once again that she should learn the skill to train such useful birds from Veryacano - his bird proved much use on several occasions and showed much valor and intelligence.
The tasks were shared and more planning was to be drawn after the numbers on the enemy's side and those of the reinforcements they were able to bring on fast would become more clear. The huntress was appointed in the group of three to check on Tol Ascaren. They were to hurry if they wanted to use the darkness of the night that seemed to hurry away now from such an image of pain and defeat.
