Board Thread:Forum Roleplays/@comment-26210095-20150624141404/@comment-26272311-20150625050318

Âdûnâhk looked down at the Variag horsemen from a rare hill as they fought against the resistance. He watched in fascination as he memorized their tactics. They were deceptively simple. A horseman would charge past an enemy or a group of enemies and fire his compound bow. They were apparently skilled riders as well, as they could not use their hands while shooting from horseback, and some didn't even have to use saddles. He watched in morbid exhilaration as the arrows pierced the enemy Gondorians in the vulnerable places of their heavy armor, such as the neck, face, inner thigh, or armpit. Soon, the relatively small group of Gondorians was wiped out. He payed close attention even to how they laid out their camps. They consisted of rigid framed tents. He noted with some interest that the tents didn't have stakes, nor did the Variags' boots have any heels or spikes. Perhaps it had something to do with an aspect of their religion or culture. He would wait until they finished setting up, then he would move.

(Play The Revelation of the Ringwraiths.)

Night had fallen. Âdûnâhk moved in, his dagger drawn. They would find dozens of their number dead the next day. Watch men who were unlucky enough to be in his path, sleeping men in the tents he passed through, they all felt his blade. He even cut the throats of several horses. Now, he had reached his real target. The commander of this force would spill plenty of information by the time Âdûnâhk was through with him. He had a slightly bigger tent than the others. Âdûnâhk quietly entered. He crept up behind the man, who was writing something. He made to grab him and hold his dagger to his throat, but the man was feisty. He broke free from the grip, and tried to cut Âdûnâhk's throat with a curved dagger. He blocked d the cut with his gauntlet, and tried to stab the commander in the face. The man yelled something in the Variag tounge. Âdûnâhk didn't understand it, but it was obvious that it was a yell for help. He shoved him away and drew his sword, making for the door. Two guards came at him seconds after he exited the tent. He decapitated one and cut off the others' leg up to the mid thigh.

Âdûnâhk was willing to bet that the whole camp was chasing him as he ran for a horse. He wasn't shy about stealing one if it meant he got to live for now. The arrows whistled past him as he finally reached a horse. It looked to be a pretty good one, too. He was a good rider, though he would have some degree of challenge riding without saddle or harness. He sped off into the night, in the general direction of the conquered Minas Tirith. It had been taken by the Haradrim, but they were better than the men chasing him right now.

The next morning, the Variags had given up pursuit. Then they started counting the men the deadly visitor had slain from the shadows. In total, counting the few who were lucky enough to only be wounded, not killed, the casualties amounted to 92 warriors. Bront had almost shaken his head in disbelief when he heard the number of men the unknown assassin had killed.