The Last Dreamwalker

On The Doomed Battlefield

Lessien rushed to her room. She slammed door behind her. She was in a rush. She instantly stripped off her clothes. She simply did not have enough time.

She threw on her black garb. They were the same clothes she wore at the Battle of Helms Deep.

Lessien grabbed her black leather bodice with the silver clasps.

As she changed she saw her chest. The black poison had completely claimed her hand and the grey started at her elbow. It climbed all the way up over her prominent collarbone and the white began to stretch over her right breast. It was heading toward her heart.

Lessien's hands shook more, her fingers tracing over the swirling pattern.

She grit her teeth and tore her hand away.

She put on her bodice, quickly doing up the clasps. She slipped on her black trousers and boots. She tied her hair up hastily, strapping on her leather wrist bands. From the corner by her chair, she retrieved her broadsword.

Then, Lessien rushed down the hallway and down the spiral staircase through the hall to the armory or, rather, the practice room. She got there and looked at the table where she had left her armor. It was bare of anything, and Lessien instantly headed out of the room, looking about for a servant to ask where her armor had gone, but no one was about. She was frustrated but she had to go.

Without armor it was then.

Out of the practice room she went. Lessien picked the set of doors that led directly to the courtyard. Instantly, she heard cries of terror.

The orcs were retaliating with their own catapults. Stones were flying and crashing through the walls, sometimes crushing men. Some of the men's catapults had been destroyed.

There were only so many left.

Lessien approached the edge of the pinnacle, looking down at the lower levels of the city.

The orcs had huge, ugly trolls pulling behind them what looked like towers on wheels. Inside must be battalions of orcs ready to fight and kill.

They were clever contraptions that ominously reminded Lessien of the ladders that the army of the Uruk-Hai had brought. The ladders that had been the aid of so much destruction and the breaching of Helms Deep's strong walls.

The tower-like things were getting closer and closer to the city walls. They would need aid down below and soon. There were not many soldiers to spare up here. Perhaps fifty to seventy-five guarded here.

Women and children were pouring through the gates and into the fortress, looking frightened.

Soldiers ushered and directed the crowds into the palace, trying to keep the people going at a steady pace so that no one would come in a panicky stampede.

If things were spun out of control it would be fatal.

Lessien looked to the parade, standing aside as the terrified people filed through. Many looked at her, most gaping at her black arm. There were many mutterings.

One woman stepped aside, approaching
Lessien. She bounced a toddler on her hip and cradled a baby in her other arm. A little one, perhaps six or seven clutched on her skirt.

"Denethor did not authorize this action to take place. The others whisper of his miraculous change of heart but I know that that madman's mind is set in stone. There was talk of a woman by his side, however. Is that woman you?" As she asked, she set down the toddler for a moment. The little boy hurried to his older sister's side, both not daring to let go of their mother.