Heartbreak

The tears rolled freely down Kressara's face as she sat alone at her makeshift camp and cried. She had avoided opening the letter in her pack for three days because she knew what the contents would tell her...Gowen, the second man she had loved was now married. Although in her mind she knew she had given him up freely, her heart still broke at the loss which had now been made permanent. She would never have him back. He was a good man... no, a great man and another woman had not squandered her chance to be made happy by him.

It had been a year and a half since that night, but she remembered it well...

She and Gowen had been at a soldier's camp when he had learned the news that his father had passed away unexpectedly. Within the hour they were on their way back to Minas Tirith. Although she had never met his family before, she was thrown into their midst as funeral arrangements were being made. It was a difficult time for them all, but Kressara remained in the house and did all that she could to help during that difficult time. Gown's father, who had been a soldier himself, had been well liked and his funeral was well attended. Gowen had been an only child and so he ultimately felt responsible for the care of his widowed mother. Kressara remained with Gowen and his mother in the house as his mother continued to grieve her husband's loss. Gowen clearly loved his mother and was there for her day and night. As the months passed it became increasingly clear to Kressara that Gowen might never leave Minas Tirith again.

When Kressara learned that Gowen had gone to her father to ask for her hand she agonized over her decision. She knew that she loved Gowen and wanted to be with him, but outside of Minas Tirith battles were still being waged and in her heart she did not feel ready to leave that life yet. Her parents, sensing their daughter's hesitation, summoned her to the palace and encouraged her to accept Gowen's proposal when it came. They both greatly admired the young man and knew that he loved their daughter deeply. Kressara spent four sleepless nights trying to decide what she was going to do. Finally, on the fifth night she came to the realization that this was not the life she wanted...yet. She knew she would want it one day, but not now...not when there was still something she could do. She wrote Gowen a heartbreaking letter, explaining to him why she had to go and could not yet accept his proposal but she did not get the easy retreat she had hoped for. Instead, she had encountered Gowen just outside of their room. One look at her pack and weapons was enough to tell him that she was leaving. His angry, shouted words at her still rang in her ears at night as she lay alone in the dark. She had begged him to understand, but he hadn't wanted to hear what she had to say. His final words to her were Either you stay and marry me, or don't come back.

Kressara hadn't seen him since. She hadn't wanted things to end that way and had tried writing to him over and over again. She still had her unsent letters in her pack. She didn't have the heart yet to destroy them. She had hoped that she would be able to try and see him again, but now any hope of being reunited with him had vanished. In her young life she had now lost two men she had loved. She had never felt more alone than she did that night.

Suddenly, she heard a rustling of leaves behind her. She had been so distracted that she had not heard the group of orcs that had snuck up behind her. She jumped up and grabbed her bow, but before she could even get an arrow out of her quiver she felt an arrow strike her. It hit her in between her right shoulder and her chest and with such force that it knocked her off her feet. Fueled by adrenaline and an instinctual desire to stay alive, she struggled to her feet. Despite the arrow jutting out from her body she grabbed her long daggers and began to fight the orcs hand to hand. If she was going to die, then she was going to die fighting.

Riahn Zoka (Rain Zoh-kah)

Raihn Zoka (Rain Zoh-kah) was no friend to Rohan. His father had been a loyal and decorated soldier and was killed while Raihn was still a boy. His mother had never been able to get over the loss and it was a long 5 years he stayed by her side until she had finally taken her own life. Raihn had survived for years on the streets and spent most of his time during the hardest of those years watching the soldiers train their horses, spar and practice.

He had befriended Johan Clausse, a Captain’s son during that time and after saving Johan’s life, the youth had agreed to help him learn how to fight and ride like the soldiers did. Raihn’s skills did not go unnoticed for long. He had been asked many times to join the Rohan army but his disdain for that way of life wouldn’t allow him to. Instead he chose a life of petty crime and debauchery instead until he finally left Rohan and traveled north where he became a mercenary and cut-throat.

In time he became well known and respected among the Northman and shunned by Rohan for his crimes he had committed against his own people. With his trained jet black horse named Nightmare he is a force to be reckoned with in the saddle and very skilled with the bow, spear and blade.

The fighting in the east left only a few patrols along Rohan’s northern and western borders. As of late, orcs have taken full advantage of this and have been raiding southward. Some orc bands have even been seen north of Edoras.

It was a complete surprise to Ozzuk to find a small camp. It was fairly well hidden but the light from a small fire had sent the others into a near frenzy. It was Ozzuk himself who fired the arrow that struck the man near the fire. The others held their swords and clubs and flung themselves at the lone figure, a small shadowy silhouette near the camp fire. Kressara’s blades were a blur of motion as she engaged her attackers that grunted and growled with the promise of fresh meat and loot. She fought well and indeed in the span of a few seconds several large, dark figures were down and unmoving in the dim light of her fire.

Perhaps, if the lone figure that fought for her life hadn’t already been injured and her right arm slowed by the arrow that protruded out of her chest she may have survived the onslaught. However one orc managed to get his club under her parry and it hit her hand hard. The sudden numbness in her hand caused her fingers to release and thus her blade was knocked from her grasp. With only one blade it didn’t take long for them to overpower her and another club got in under her attack and hit her in the side of the head.

What had possessed Raihn to come back after all this time he couldn’t rightly say. But the road to Rohan had called to him. And here he was plodding along alone in the dark. Nightmare was not a warhorse exactly. But what he lacked in strength and size, he made up for in intelligence, endurance, speed, grit and guile. It wasn’t widely known but horses possessed a much keener sense of smell and better hearing than a human’s And Nightmare had smelled the orcs long before the sounds of fighting were heard over the silence the night usually brought to the road. Normally Raihn would have left it alone but if they were fighting there’d certainly be something they thought was worth that kind of effort.

In a blaze of black Nightmare’s front hooves took down a large orc that hadn’t heard them coming with the fight ahead of them and the distraction of the dim light made it difficult for the orcs to see. His long blade flashed out and with each stroke of his arm an orc died. Before long there were no orcs standing and it was only he and Nightmare that moved in the dim light.

Kressara could feel her own blood flowing down the front of her blouse, staining it red. She fought with a strength and speed that surprised the orcs, despite her injury. However, as she was preparing to strike, one orc managed to strike her hand with a club, causing her hand to temporarily go numb. Her hand released the blade, leaving her with only one. Her hope of survival was fading quickly and she suddenly longed for the comfort of her father's strong arms. She remembered him pulling her up into his lap and them singing together in Elvish. She had failed Havan. She had failed Gowen. She had failed her siblings. She had failed her parents. She had failed her grandparents. And she had failed herself. She was going to die out here in the dark alone.

It was as all hope had failed her that he appeared. He rode a large, black horse, but it was difficult to see him for the moon was hidden behind clouds tonight. His sword appeared and with each stroke an orc fell. His blade moved quickly and without hesitation. Within moments the only two beings alive at the campsite were them. Kressara gripped her one long dagger hard as she wondered if this man was a threat to her. He had just helped save her life, but that didn't mean she was safe from him. The arrow still protruded from her chest and she continued to lose blood. Her face had gone white from bloodloss and shock, and any other man would have not been standing...but Kressara remained on her feet, though quite shakily.

"Who are you?" the young princess warrior finally asked.

His boots hit the ground just as the last orc fell and he reached up and sheathed his sword with a loud ‘slap’. It was a hope that the orcs would be dead and whomever they waylayed would be as well. But that wasn’t the case. The fact that it was a lone woman was a surprise and as he looked her over his eyes drew down to the arrow.

“That’s going to have to come out,” He said as he took a step toward her. It was obvious he wasn’t going to answer her question. “I hope those clothes aren’t too important to you,” He said as he drew out a small knife. Now just a few steps away from her he was dealt another surprise. The woman was quite beautiful. Even in the dark he could tell that much but he kept his cool demeanor and his words flowed from him as if there weren’t a dozen orcs dead at their feet.

“Normally women get out of their clothes for me willingly so I doubt there’s nothing you have that I haven’t seen before,” He said and smile a warm smiled at her as he flipped the knife deftly in his fingers.

Kressara held her ground as the man began to step towards her. As he did, the clouds above parted and they each were granted their first look at one another. The man was younger, though clearly old enough to be wielding a sword with such precision. He was also quite handsome, if not slightly rugged. However, Kressara remained very wary of him. She didn't know him and had little reason to trust him other than the fact that he had saved her from being killed by those orcs.

She glanced down at the arrow still sticking out from between her right shoulder and chest. Now that the adrenalin was wearing off she could feel the pain it was causing. In all of her time fighting she had been lucky enough not to have been shot...today her luck had run out. Shock and bloodloss were now overcoming her and she felt lightheaded.

"Stay...stay away...from me," she told him as she took two shaky steps back away from him. It was then that the world around her started to go dark and her legs gave out from under her...

In an instant Raihn was there to catch her before she hit the ground. He smiled once more as he saw her eyes flutter and then close. Her body went limp and he lifted her up and cradled her in his arms as he carried her over and laid her down onto her bedroll. He removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves so her blood would not soil them too much. Nightmare snorted disapprovingly as Raihn went to work.

Hours later, just before sunrise, she opened her eyes to find that she was alone and under her blankets in her bedroll. Her right arm was in a makeshift sling and she was bandaged front to back, and not wearing a stitch of clothes.

Ooc: when she gets up and begins to get dressed she will notice that all of her gold as well as other valuables including her sword are gone. It will also look like he had tried to take her horse as well but it was able to evade him somehow.

Kressara dreamt of Gowen. In her dream she could see his face as she stood before him ready to leave. He was heartbroken. That look would haunt her forever.

I don't need you anymore. I have found another.

He suddenly turned and headed down the stairs. She followed him and suddenly found another woman standing in the room wearing a beautiful wedding dress. Gowen approached her and kissed her loving. Then, they both turned to face her and suddenly had bows in their hands. Before she could even scream they both fired...

Kressara awoke with a start. Her heart was racing and she was breathing heavily, as if she had been running for miles. She sat up and winced and suddenly remembered having been shot by an orc. As her mind began to recall what had happened she also remembered the man on the black horse. Looking around her she found that she was alone. Her eyes looked towards where the arrow had been and found it was bandaged, with her right arm in a makeshift sling. However, it was then that she realized she was completely naked. Her mind immediately began to wonder if he may have violated her while she was in her unconscious state, but that seemed unlikely. Perhaps she had been wrong to jump to conclusions about him. He had saved her life and then tended to her wound. Her clothes were all folded up nicely...but where was her necklace?! She reached up to her neck and was horrified to realize that the necklace her parents had given to her when she had turned 16 was gone. Her Oliphant ivory long daggers were also missing. And so was the sword her grandfather had given to her. Her grandmother's bow and quiver remained, but only because they appeared insignificant in value. He had stolen from her! He had taken everything! Any feelings of remorse to how she had treated him vanished and were replaced by pure, hot blooded fury. She was going to track him down if it was the last thing she did on this earth. He would not get away with this!

She pulled off the sling, ignoring the pain from her wound. She dressed quickly in her blood stained clothes and pulled on her boots. She slung her bow and quiver over her back and then looked around for her horse, Storm. The dark grey stallion was one of her cousin Narisa and her husband Calaren's first horses. He was only 3 years old, but highly intelligent, well trained, and sure footed. He was unafraid in battle and extremely protective of Kressara. At first she didn't see him and she whistled for him. When he didn't appear right away she began to panic. However, after an agonizing moment he emerged from the brush. She quickly mounted him and began to follow the tracks the thief had left behind.