Impressions

[Sintaqx]

There.

Hyacinthe crouched and peered at the rough ground before her, examining the faint, almost delicate track. A track that she never would have found had she not been searching for it. The elf's eyes scanned the ground in the waning light of dusk, picking out the faint impressions on the ground, the footsteps of a young human girl. With a whispered prayer to the Lone Wolf, Hyacinthe began to carefully follow the trail, constructing the events that transpired three days before.

A broken branch there, missing flowers there and there.

Selune's silvery light provided enough illumination for the elf's keen eyes to pick up the minute clues before here. The girl had come this way, picking the wildflowers that grew near the trail leading from High Hold to the Moonlands. Hyacinthe closed her eyes and visualized the scene. She was braiding the flowers with a wreath of branches, probably humming or singing as she walked the trail, ranging all over as this or that flower caught her eye. Opening her eyes, the ranger returned her mind to the moonlit scene. With a good idea of what the girl may have been thinking, the faint trail was not difficult to follow even in the pale light.

Gods.

The single word hung in her mind. Off the main path and blending perfectly with the other wildflowers lay a small wreath. The tiny impressions changed in their tone, the girl was no longer walking or skipping. She was running. A heavy print, partially obliterating the child's print, told the story all too vividly. Orcs. Hyacinthe widened her search, reading the days old trail and piecing together the story. Three orcs, one in heavy armor and another limping, had passed this way. They stopped, probably hearing the girl's song on the wind, and the three had fanned out. One without armor, and uninjured, circled around behind the girl and startled her, chasing her into the waiting arms of one of the others.

Struggle.

The girl fought. She broke free of her porcine captors and ran up the hill, away from them.

Blood.

Halfway up the hill a splash of blood and a broken bolt lay on the rocks. The terrain hid most of the prints, but a turned stone here and disturbed vegetation told what happened. They had shot at her a couple times before striking her. She fell and tried crawling away, but they caught her anyway. They captured her, wounded, but alive. With some difficulty Hyacinthe trailed the orcs, the tracks of one now a hair deeper, into the hills.

[Sintaqx]

The dawn was just breaking as Hyacinthe reached the end of the trail. The orcs had joined up with another trio, probably a hunting party, a few miles back and their trail lead almost straight to a large encampment on the edge of the Moonwood. As she looked the camp over from her vantage point she had to admit, however grudgingly, that the orcs had set up in a perfect spot. A large open field strewn with small rocks lay between her and the orcs, and their camp itself was situated inside a natural fortress of stone. They had constructed a crude wooden gate and sentry tower at the two easy entrances and guards milled around all over.

Hyacinthe stayed where she was, watching and waiting as the sun climbed higher. The shadows in one part of the camp visible to her remained dark, a cavern entrance. she figured that there were easily a couple dozen orcs in the encampment and near mid-day decided she had seen enough. A flash of color caught her eye as she moved.

The girl.

Hyacinthe dropped to her belly once again and watched as the child stumbled out of the cave, shielding her eyes from the glaring sunlight. A one-eyed orc wearing a necklace of skulls and bones and a ratty bear-hide cloak emerged from the cave behind the girl. He grabbed her and gave her a hard slap before thrusting a metal pail into her hands and shoved her towards another portion of the camp. The girl's bandaged leg was clearly visible as she limped off, out of sight of Hyacinthe.

Closer.

The wild elf crept from her vantage point and circled the camp. Avoiding two orc patrols she entered the woods and worked her way back towards the camp. Carefully she climbed a low cliff and found a new place from which to observe the camp, close enough that the stench of orc wafted up to her every time the wind shifted. The cave entrance was below her, but she could now see the rest of the fortified camp. What she saw did nothing to raise her hopes. The place was highly defensible, and did not lack for defenders at all. Groups of three left to patrol the perimeter of the camp at fairly regular intervals, and the watchtower guards were vigilant, moreso than most orcs she had dealt with before.

Weakness.

As the sun began to set once more Hyacinthe watched a hunting party of six orcs leave the compound, heading out into the forest. Their departure gave Hyacinthe an idea. There was no way she could steal into the camp and escape with the girl, that would be suicide. She could better her odds,though, by making sure some of the orc patrols and hunters met with misfortune. Carefully she returned to the forest floor and skulked after the hunters.

Trail.

The orcs had been here a while, long enough to leave an identifiable trail along the patrol routes and the path they took to their hunting grounds. Working quickly Hyacinthe took the rusted kukri she had taken from a fallen gnoll a while ago and, with some sharpened stakes she always kept with her, fashioned a trap for the returning hunters. That completed she set off to hunt the hunters with bow and blade.

Targets.

The hunting party split up and went about in a group of three. Sneaking up on one as they stalked a deer, Hyacinthe raised her bow, the archer orc in her sights. She released and the arrow struck true, penetrating the orc's thick skull and dropping him immediately. The other two orcs looked about in confusion for a moment, long enough for another arrow to sail from the elf's bow, striking another orc in the chest. Wounded, but not down, the orc spotted his assailant and charged after her. Hyacinthe sprinted through the wood, loosing arrows at the orc as she ran. One of the shafts took the orc in he heart and he fell. The remaining orc doggedly chased the elf back to the trail. Hyacinthe ran past her trap and turned, firing arrows at the orc in rapid succession. Two struck true, but the orc continued his charge. Right through the trap. The trap sprang to life, stakes and blade slamming into the orc's chest and throwing him back, dead.

Satisified by her success, the ranger dismantled her trap and hid the corpses of the orcs. She could whittle the orcs down, but she would need help for any sort of an assault. Covering her tracks, Hyacinthe made her way to Quaervarr. Others would help with the assault, she was certain of that, but first they would need to be told.