Post by Warlord of Morgul on Nov 8, 2007 3:56:34 GMT
Chapter 1
Hurian sat in the tavern. The atmosphere was stuffy and humid, and the patrons were rowdy. Many fights had broken out.They were bloody and violent, Hurian winced as a man brought down an oak chair across another's head. The bar tender lent over the counter and whispered "Why don't you stop those fights? You're a soldier."
"Sorry sir, I'm off duty," he replied, listlessly, "And besides, I can't take all of them by myself and my colleges are in no condition to help me."
The Bartender smiled and went back to work.
He looked at his captain, Fargaen. He, like the rest of the troop, was outrageously drunk. His bushy black beard was soaked with ale, and a mustache of foam had formed around his lip. Hurian and the bar tender were the only ones sober.
Hurian was a member of the Veterans. these men had either been in countless numbers of battles or have incredible skill. He had been accepted because of the later, although he was only 20, the bare minimum age one can volunteer for the army, he seemed to have an endless amount of stamina and he was a growing master of the sword.
Each man had and cared for his own personal equipment.
They were all skilled in different was and they fought as a group under the highest commanders, each man's skills complementing another's strengths and weaknesses.
Hurian was still fairly new to the company and was uneasy. He was unused to the screams of horror and the splattering of blood. He remembered his first kill, in one of the early attacks on Osgiliath he had been separated from his troop, he had come face to face with the most ugly, gruesome creature he had ever seen. He had stabbed the beast in the gut. As he ripped out his sword a piece rotten unknown internal organ had come with it. The brute had merely grunted and kept butchering at Hurian until the young Gondorian separated his foul head from his bloated body. He still remembered the putrid head rolling to the ground, vile black blood poisoning the dusty earth, it's eyes dull and lifeless. Disgusted, he fingered the jade stone Southron pendent that he wore around his neck.
He looked at Fargaen again, remembering how he acquired the enemies' charm.
It was a fortnight ago and the Vets. were patrolling the war-torn city of Osgiliath, the front line defense of Gondor and a 'gateway' across the Anduin River and to Minas Tirith.
The Vets. had taken up the strategic foothold in the rotting form of a bridge. An alarm horn had been sounded somewhere in the city.
Fargaen had taken half of his force to their aid and Hurain, as a lieutenant, had been left in charge of the remainder of the troop.
As Fargaen sprinted off to follow the piercing screams and the horrible gurgles of battle, Hurian had noticed something lying on the ground. It had been obviously been dropped by Fargaen. He was about to run after him he had noticed what it was. He had kept it with him ever since, and had become suspicious of his captain.
He broke off his thoughts just in time to hear the rest of Fargaen's drunken ramblings:
"Now I've 'seen many a man in my lifetime, I evan worked with shum! But I neva worked with a trator, until now," He paused, as if to catch his breath, "Itsh dat one," He cried as he pointed, " dis man 'ere is a trator an I can prove it!"
He lent over and ripped the Southron pendent off Hurain's neck and held it above the gasping crowd.
Chapter 2
Hurain swept his eyes over the crowd, his eyes wide in disbelief.
"How could he have known..." he thought.
His gaze then turned to Fargaen and his eyes darkened with rage. Before he knew what he was doing his fist smashed in his captain's nose. The spectators heard a sickening crunch as Fargaen clenched his nose. Blood gushed out of the man's nostrils and seeped between his fingers. Fargaen jerked his hand violently to the left and there was a click. The captain drew back his blood drenched fist and returned the blow......
***********************
Hurian stood before the Steward of Gondor in chains. Denethor's two sons stood on ether side of the black throne.
"What are the charges?" Asked the steward
Boromir, the eldest son stepped forward.
"The accused is charged with treason and assault of a high ranking officer."
"Any evidence?"
Farimir, the youngest son of the steward handed the Southron pendant to his farther.
Denethor nodded grimly and continued
"Does the accused have anything to say in his defense?"
Hurian shook his head, he knew that he had lost this case even before the trial had even started. All of the evidence was against him.
Denethor stood up.
"Hurian, son of Harafull, I ,as steward of Gondor, hereby banish you from the kingdom for life!"
Hurian hung his head as two guards lead him away.
(W.I.P)