Early Summer 3000 TA: Northern Downs, Fornost
Aragorn and Halbarad had dealt with the threat in the north and returned back to Fornost. There they met with Hirvegil. He told them of all the things that had happened in the west and Aragorn was not pleased. He should have known the Dwarves would use the literal sense of the words in the Treaty of Thorin's Halls. No matter, it was not Hirvegil's fault and now his task done, he travelled back to Barketta to link up with his forces. Aragorn in the meantime had sent messengers to Araphor ordering him to stay put and march no further unless ordered to. The message had never arrived. Araphor or his force were nowhere to be found. They had vanished into the wastes of the north. It seemed Araphor had known messages would be sent, or it was a happy coincidence, which Aragorn doubted. Araphor had been preparing for years they realised, stockpiling supplies and gathering men for his quest. Whatever that was. Now they would have to start their offensive with an entire army less.
Ash and bloody ashes Araphor, Aragorn thought fuming with rage.
“It seems we will have to do it.” Aragorn said to Halbarad. “Us and Hirvegil in the west.”
Halbarad was already rubbing his hands in glee imagining the battles to come. With Araphor gone surely that would mean more Orcs for him.
Hirvegil was to march north from Barketta towards Fuirost and take it with the help of the Dwarves. From there he would advance south east into Northern Arthedain and take Bar-i-Donyonach. Once that was secured he was to march upon the Orc stronghold of Angsûl and support the Dwarves there. His final destination would be Carn Dûm where he would unite with all the other forces.
Old battleplan
Aragorn, Halbarad and Nirven where to go east into Rhudaur and after that the Ettenmoors. Once the eastern flank was secure they would march on Shedûn. When that was taken they would reunite with Hirvegil and lay siege to the Angmarim capital, Carn Dûm. That was the changed plan as normally Aragorn and Halbarad where meant to take a more direct route to Carn Dûm as Araphor had been assigned to take care of Rhudaur. With him gone they had to change tactics and take some risks. They would leave the center of the Dúnedain realm open to attack but there was no other way. To counter this a bit, Damrod, the second son of Halbarad, was to take a small force and patrol between the Northern Downs and the Weather Hills should enemy forces break through.
They were ready to go, as ready as they would ever be. Aragorn knew that it was now or never and that this assault could mean the complete destruction of the Dúnedain realm of the North and his dream of rebuilding the Kingdom of Arnor. Hirvegil had already started marching to Fuirost and would reach it within a month's time, hopefully.
It is time to roll the dice. He thought to himself.
New battleplan
The Northern Army, led by Aragorn, with in second command Halbarad and his son Nirven, was to depart at any moment. In battle Aragorn was to lead the right wing with all the cavalry in it, Halbarad the center and Nirven the left. The army was assembled and ready to go when a messenger from the south arrived. He beared grim news and demanded to speak with Aragorn.
“My Chieftain, Gandalf sent me here in all haste. Your son has crossed the Gwathló and has entered Dunlending territory. Nobody knows whereto and to what purpose. One night he packed his things and marched his army south. He thought you might wanted to know that.” he said a bit out of breath.
What is it with these unruly generals. First Araphor disappearing in the north and now my own son in the south. Aragorn thought. Could they not restrain themselves until Angmar was defeated. Could they not see they were jeopardizing the future of Middle-Earth for their personal agenda.
“Thank you for informing me, you are in luck that you caught me, I was just about to leave for the war.” he said.
“Take some rest, then you will ride back to Gandalf and thank him for alerting me of my son's escapades. Tell him he must find my son and keep an eye on him.”
“Yes my Chieftain.” the messenger said and he turned his horse to enter the city.
Thus Aragorn rode to war a troubled man.
Early Summer 3000 TA, Somewhere in northern Dunland
Arveldir had been right. A grand army was indeed gathering in the forest south of Tharbad, just across the border. They had tried to conceal their congregation by using the trees, but Arveldir's spies had found them. They had gathered around 3000 men, a formidable force indeed. At the head was the new Huntmaster Güaire, younger brother to the late Fiönghan. He wanted revenge for the killing of his brother. He had heard the tales of the tall dark haired man who had killed his brother, bare handed. It was a shame he could not bear. As it happens, the man he sought to kill was just lying in wait for him a couple of miles south east of him. Eldarion had moved his army around the forest where Güaire was hiding, knowing that the Dunlending would never expect to be attacked from that direction. It was time to give the Dunlendings a big surprise.
“It is as you have said Arveldir, they are hiding in the forest waiting to strike at my beautiful city.” Eldarion said as they were returning from the enemy camp.
They had spied on the camp together. Eldarion had wanted to see the enemy for himself. That way he could strategise a battleplan. He was as good as any Ranger at stealthily approaching an enemy camp.
“Tomorrow, at dawn, we attack. We'll show these buggers who's boss even in their own lands.” Eldarion stated, already imagining his victory.
“As you wish, Ranger-Captain.” Arveldir confirmed.
Güaire saw the sun rise on what was looking like a promising day. He was ready to move out. He had gathered enough forces to strike back at his hated foe in the north.
They will pay for their insolence. They will pay in blood for the death of my brother. Güaire thought. It was time for revenge.
His lieutenant told him the men were ready to march on which he gave the order to do so. They had just formed up when they heard a soft thump and the sound of a man who had his breath kicked out of him. Then another and another and another. Before long arrows were flying all around and the ranks were broken by most of the troops trying to hide from the crossfire. Only the most disciplined troops, the Wulf legions, stayed in rank. Güaire knew this could only be one man. The same man that had killed his brother. But how.
How could this have happened? How did they know we were here? Güare's thoughts raced through his mind. We need to get out of this forest if we want to stand a chance.
Arrows were coming from every direction except one, the southeast. Eldarion had placed his rangers all around the camp except for the southeast, to goad his enemy in a trap. Güaire took the bait. Seeing that no arrows were coming from that direction, wrongly assuming that the enemy had attacked from the north, he ordered his troops to make for the south and form up once they had left the forest. The Dunlending force consisted mostly of heavy infantry and could be better deployed in open ground. During their murderous race through the forest, they were constantly harassed by arrows and when they almost reached the clearing, hundreds of cloaked warriors appeared from the undergrowth. Their swords shone fell when the sun hit them. Güaire looked towards the open plains and saw the contingents that had made it out were run down by cavalry. He knew now that the enemy had tricked him. His army was massacred and he was trampled by a horse while trying to flee. It seems Güaire did not have the same courage his brother had possessed.
A shame. Eldarion thought, looking down at the body.
Eldarion had once again dealt with a Wildmen menace, in their own territory no less. This added only to his legend back home. The young son of Aragorn, Bane of the Wildmen. He had made plans to go further south and besiege the capital of the Dunlendings, Dun Larach. This however was stopped by Gandalf, again. The Wizard always seemed to appear when Eldarion was on the verge of crushing the Dunlendings once and for all. But Gandalf had brought with him someone else. A couple of Elves from Imladris, Elrohir, the son of Elrond Halfelven, was the leader of them. He told Eldarion of the expansion of the Dunnish clans into the ancient lands of Eregion. Elrond requested that Eldarion, together with Gandalf, would deal with this threat and restore Elvish control over Eregion again. This was not what he had wanted to do, but a summoning by Elrond himself was not easy to ignore. Gandalf seemed to have mixed feelings about his involvement in the whole affair.
“Of course I will come to the aid of my kin. The Wildmen will be ousted from Eregion and the city of Ost-in-Edhil will be restored to Elvish control. You have my word.” Eldarion said to Elrohir.
His conquest of the Dunnish land would have to be put on hold. Then again he could destroy them at any time and Elrond needed their help, also against the Wildmen.
They have grown bold if they think they can attack the Elves. Eldarion thought. Does their arrogance know no bounds.
“My father will be pleased that the son of Aragorn is so willing to help his kin.” Elrohir said bowing. “I will send word that it shall be done.”
“Done, now would you care to join us in our celebrations? We have just won a victory over our common foe.” Eldarion asked.
Both Elrohir and Gandalf obliged and he guided them to the party tent.
Eldarion had gotten away with his little gamble and now he was rewarded for it. A visit to the ancient city of Ost-in-Edhil and a command to fight against the much hated Wildmen.
“It's good to be Ranger-Captain.” he said to himself
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