Thread:Aramirtheranger/@comment-25344655-20150816021902/@comment-26863727-20150905030520

Curse that Dwarven tendency to cause a huge racket in the woods. Arlis was trying to get the wad of cloth out of her mouth so she could warn the Dwarves of the rangers in the brush, but it was extremely well placed for having been stuffed in in quite a hurry. Meanwhile, Adanak was trying to figure out what the hell was going on in the woods around him.

In the underbrush, Ithrod crawled over to Arahad, soft and quick as a shadow. "We move on your go." He whispered to his captain. Arahad nodded. The rangers sprang to their feet, notching arrows as they did so. Each one aimed for one of the few vulnerable points in the Dwarven armor: eye slits, armpits, the backs of knees, beard-holes. "In the name of the Steward Denethor the Second son of Ecthelion the Second, you are under arrest for conspiring with the foes of Gondor! You may escape if you attempt it, but you will still lose many Dwarves!" Arahad shouted.