May 23rd, 2007

Girl Type Ranma with Pig

Strange Animals

Just after midday, I decided to rest. The Crebain would watch over the greygirlbeast while I slept. I recommended to her she sleep as well, lest she wanted me to drag her the next day. At midnight, I awoke to find her sleeping, facing me, on her side, curled up very much like a beast. Her dirty, wheat coloured hair across her face was like a filthy cobweb veil in the moonlight. No clouds in the sky, unlike the days when smoke from Mount Doom ever blanketed the land.

I nicked her cheek with the tip of my sword. Her reaction was merely a wince before her eyes fluttered open and looked at me. Two little pools glittered in her shadowed face. Still did I not know her feelings or thoughts. I bade her to stand and we recommenced our journey.

I had found on her person a small book, a diary of some sort, I supposed, though it was filled only with rows and rows of meaningless scribble.

"Here, you!" I laughed, striking her across the shoulder with the book. "Don't you know how to write? You know there's naught on these pages but silly lines?" She stumbled when I hit her but otherwise she did not react. I opened the book again and saw that what had been nonsense before had been replaced somehow by perfectly regular, perfectly foul Sindarin. I don't like such tricks as these. I took up my whip then and gave her six lashes, and I felt an invigorating spray of blood and shredded hair. I gripped the copious tresses that yet remained on her and pulled her to her feet. Two of her tears spilled to the ground as I did so.

It occurred to me then that the respect she must surely hold for me after I captured her twice has probably been deepened by fear and awe. These tears were likely because she feared she had disappointed me. I petted her and told her, "You must think of a way to please me." She said nothing, possibly too ashamed to speak, so I looked at her diary again. Sindarin makes my stomach ache and I had need several times to spit as I read. I understood little, but one word I took to be a name was littered throughout the book; Inwë.

"Who is Inwë?" I asked her. She bowed her head, did not respond, so again I asked, "Who is Inwë?" I was making ready to whip her again when I became aware of a terrific commotion from the Crebain overhead. Several were dashing at one another and even as I watched, two fell from the sky to lie dead on the ground. Many birds fled, and it was some time before the skirmish subsided, at which point only three of the creatures remained, circling above. As we have finally entered upon the Mithram Spur, but are at least a day from Seregost, I hope these crows are yet my allies.
  • Current Mood
    hungry hungry
Salt Precaution

The Enemy Beasts

Things had been going so well. Before reaching the place where I meant to ford the Caraduin, I came upon a patrol from Seregost of fifteen Orcs led by two Uruk-Hai. I bound the ankles of my pretty captive and put her belly on the back of a Warg. The Orcs eyed her covetously and I was considering whether I wanted her entirely to myself when a noise to which I had almost become accustomed was replaced by a silence of what was to be terrible portent;

The Crebain, whose cannibalistic battle had been joined earlier by twenty or so more birds, abruptly ceased their noisome violence and shot straight down at my Orcs like black comets. I tore a shield from a stunned grunt to my left and lifted it just in time to hear him shriek as he suddenly found black talons tearing at his face. A great blow against the shield nearly knocked me from my feet, so I crouched and peered through the bizarre melee. Beyond the spectacle of Orcs swiping furiously and to no avail at the sudden swarm, I beheld a brown robed figure standing upon a high boulder, leaning motionless on a staff. It was the mad Wizard, Radagast the Brown, and just as I was cursing the intrusion of another mad person in my life, the Wargs rebelled. The one beside me immediately gripped an Orc head in its jaws and decapitated the soldier while his comrades now found attacks from sharp teeth and claws ripping asunder their own limbs and entrails. I backed away.

I thought perhaps I might escape the strange and infuriating chaos when something heavy shoved me from behind and, striking my head against a rock, I lost consciousness for a moment. When my wits returned, the chaos had only intensified and the naked greygirlbeast stood above me, her bonds cut, seemingly comfortable among her beastly brethren. She held my scimitar and, as I watched, took her book from me. Just as I was expecting her to cleave my head from my neck, a beautiful chestnut mare approached from behind her. She mounted it as easily as she had the bull days earlier, and both she and the mount were suddenly gone. My vision beats red even now with rage, but I am yet Rohan enough to recognise a Mearas when I see one, and I bitterly wonder what royal name the Girl Beast must have been given at birth, and how sweet a prize it was I had lost.

Only myself and the two Uruk-Hai escaped with our lives and now, as the last shadows of night fade into another dull inferno of a day, we are forced into motionlessness as we tend our wounds as best we can under a small overhang of rock, hoping some enemy Crebain does not espy us. My right knee was all but pulverised, and I do not know how I hope to make Seregost, but I fully mean to, and fully mean to bring all of Mordor's might that I may rally down upon the greygirlbeast. And I fear more than my desire for vengeance may depend upon me doing so.
  • Current Music
    "Salaambo's Aria" - Bernard Herrmann