Before you read this, you should probably read the prolouge.
Borimir’s Point Of View:
Darkmoon’s muscles rolled beneath me as the patrol thundered toward the forest. My hand rested on Darkmoon’s sweaty neck as we galloped. My mind churned as I went over everything that I knew. There was a report of a large band of Orcs in this forest. Father sent my patrol to check out this rumor. I had an anxious feeling growing in side of me; something was going to happen. What, I could not tell. As we neared the forest I slowed Darkmoon down to a walk. With a hand thrust out to the side, the rest of my patrol slowed down also. I looked over to my second in command, Flerian. His dark black hair was slicked back, and his deep blue eyes stared mischievously up at me. He flashed me a quick grin, and I smiled back.
“Enter the forest. Tread carefully.” I commanded, giving a quick look over the men. They all knew what I meant. It would be obeyed. I suppressed a grin. Sometimes being the son of Denethor came in handy. But, then again, sometimes it could be very annoying. With a nod from me, at the sae momment, the whole troup began to trot lightly through the woods. We rode silently through the woods for about 15 minutes, when i froze. Harsh, jeering calls echoed through the forest. From the tense backs of my men, i knew that they could hear it too.
“That way.” I breathed, jerking my head toward the direction that the sound came from. As one, we all turned and began to trot faster toward where the sound came form. I clenched my teeth. Sweat rolled down my neck. Yes, i always got a weird feeling right before abattle. But this was different. This battle was something special. It would change my life forever.
We burst out of the woods into a clearing. My sword was suddenly in my hand, I can not remember drawing it. Before any of the Orcs realized what had happened, we were on them. The red blood of men, and the black blood of Orcs littered the grass. I swung down and cleaved off the head of an Orc. Suddenly Darkmoon neighed in pain. I swung around and viciously attacked the Orc that had hurt Darkmoon. The Orc crumpled to the ground as I stabbed in in the chest. I paused for a breather and looked around. The battle was almost over. Most of the Orcs were dead. I slipped down off Darkmoon and surveyed the damage. I sighed in relief. It wasn’t bad. Just a cit along his flank. Not to deep, just deep enough to hurt.
“Lord Borimir!” someone shouted. I turned around. It was Flerian. “Over here, sir! One of the Orc’s captives!” I started in surprise. I jogged over to Flerian. I knelt down beside Flerian. The Orc’s captive was a girl. An Elf, too. She was covered in dirt and mud and her own blood. I looked up at Flerian.
“Is she alive?”
Hiya everyone. If you hadn’t figured in out, the girl is the girl from the prologue.
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