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Andrast

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BennyQ

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The province of Andrast is the western most region of Gondor. Though the Reunited Kingdom, and its previous rendition, has claimed sovereignty over the region, it is sparsely populated by its subjects. Throughout the Ages there has been no major Númenóreans settlement or inhabitation, with the population consisting mostly of the local, wilder Drúedain and other wild men with no allegiances to the major powers of the area. At most, Gondor maintained few outposts for the stocking and resupply of vessels that once sailed the seas from its southern coasts up along into northern Eriador. However, throughout the Third Age this trade route waned as Arnor collapsed and the strength of Gondor failed.

In the Fourth Age, with the prosperity of Gondor restored, the region saw an influx of economic boom, though the recent Darkening has caused its peoples to become fenced in among themselves, fearing outsiders due to their remoteness. The region is very hilly and mountainous, with the range of the White Mountains bending southwest towards the sea into a great headland known as the Ras Morthil. This separates the Gondorian populations on the eastern side of the mountains from the wild men on the western side, bordering the sea. The mountains are massive and generally assumed to be inaccessible in crossing, making the Ras Morthil the only land route where one can reach the other side of the range of snow-studded peaks. A minor Gondorian fort guards this passage.

With the destruction of the sun and moon, inhabitants of both sides of the mountains reported a falling star having landed in the region, causing a great stir among the local populace of all denominations.
 
Lôminzil
West of the River Lefnui, approaching Andrast



Lôminzil watched as the stars of the great bear set in the west and ticked off the hours as each familiar star fell below the horizon. She measured their distance roughly by watching the last peaks of the White Mountains and how their relationship shifted relative to their Westward direction of travel. It was a crude measure, she could do much better once they made camp and she could make some proper measurements. Still it was accurate enough for her to know they were not making particularly good time. While she was grateful for the relative comfort of the mount, she and the nag were slowing them down. That fact was reinforced by Jukha's constant conversation as they proceeded parallel to the coast, he wasn't even out of breath. They were amazing beasts these orcs, bred for murder and mayhem. She had rarely seen them but she had read much about them, enough to know they should be about 20 miles further then they were.

"Our goal is critical to his return and why you and I were chosen for this. All the other actions are merely diversion to allow us to proceed unhindered." She told him, stroking his ego in an effort to keep him focused on obeying. It was her turn to smile as he asked what they sought. Information could be most useful at times and she saw no advantage to her in enlightening this beast, even if she considered him incapable of using it. "We will know it when we find it, you just need to follow my directions. Nothing more, nothing less." As to where they were to take it, well she would certainly keep that piece of information to herself. Only their fear of failing the dark lord would keep them running across Gondor and not into mischief of their own.

They had barely stopped and the orc pulled her from the mount, eager to sample his reward. She was no camp whore however and made sure he knew it would be when she was ready. "Not quite yet." She told him slapping his face lightly, almost playfully. "Make your camp next to the river bed. I want a fire down below the bank where it cannot be seen from afar." She wanted to feel warmth on her naked flesh and if she could not have the sun she wanted a fire. Nor was she quite done giving orders. "Send my packs up to that hill, have the bearers stand guard, I don't want to become a meal for one of your wargs passing near." Almost as an after thought she turned back to him. "Put the horse out of its misery." With that she walked up onto the hill, her eyes taking in the wide expanse of stars. Without the moon the starlight was exceptionally clear. Her practiced hands took out several brass instruments and she looked at the sky and scribbled on paper. In less than a quarter of an hour she had figured almost precisely where they were. Jukha was not far off in his estimate, they still had a long way to go and would need to better once they had rested and disposed of her mount.

Once she was satisfied with her calculations she walked back to where the fire was burning. Her eyes were bright in the reflected flame. She was ready to reward her escort and as she felt the warmth of the fire on her face she let the thick fur drop off of her body. She stood there naked before Jukha and the other orcs, letting the flame warm and illuminate her body. Slowly at first and without music, she began to dance. Her eyes focused upon the orc chieftan as if he were the only one present. Arms stretched wide, breasts swaying with her motion, her hips swiveling as her feet danced about the soft sand of the river bank. She turned slowly, her head staying towards Jukha, ignoring the other orcs. She knew it was a risk, arousing such a large band of orcs, but if they did turn on their leader, she wanted them to think of a use for her besides supper.

With Jukha off her left shoulder she spun quickly to face him again, barely breaking eye contact in her turn. Her pace began to quicken as she worked to one side then the other. She tried not to think too much about the meal of fresh meat the orcs were enjoying. She only hoped it had gone quickly for the poor beast. As she continued to dance she got closer and closer to Jukha until she was mere feet from him. Then as suddenly as she had started, she stopped, throwing herself down to her knees, her upper body laying in the big orc's lap. Offering herself to him as a reward for his obedience.
 
Lôminzil
Western tip of Andrast



The rather public and humiliating death of the orc chieftan Jukha had the desired effect upon the rest of the orc war party. They were wary of the human witch that had joined them, though she could sense that wariness beginning to wear thin. West they had continued, between the mountains to the North and the Sea to the South. The pace was grueling, travelling by orc was a hell that Lôminzil wouldn't wish upon her worst enemy. She was sore in places she hadn't even known existed, her supple body pushed to its limits. It was however fast, it seemed like they were as fast as horses and required less food and water, at least for short sprints. They found few people here, though those were a most unfortunate few. The orcs pounced upon the few helpless Scouts and lone settlers. The rather sheltered witch couldn't bare to watch as they devoured their foes.

As they approached the Western Tip of the Peninsula, Lôminzil took more readings of the stars but it was a stroke of luck that helped her find the shard quickly. Low clouds coming from the west swept over them. In the perpetually dark sky, a strange light seemed to illuminate the clouds from below. They simply followed that light to a small line of hills near the sea. Another mile to the west and the Shard would have landed in the Sea, out of reach of men or orcs. The force of it's impact practically buried it in the soft earth of the rolling hill. Just enough of it showed to shine the signal light that caused its discovery.

The orcs hated the light, bright as the sun and so close. She laughed as they were like frightened sheep, practically despairing at the return of the light, even such a limited amount. She threw a special cloth over it, snuffing the light and allowing the orcs to approach and dig it out. She noted their reaction, it might prove a useful weapon against them if she ever needed it. At least in the short term. The cloth was a heavy weave, specially made for just this purpose. "Bring it to me." She told the orcs, they grumbled but seemed either reluctant to cross the witch or to carry the cursed light.

She tied the bag securely around it, letting the darkness surround them once more. It was heavy but not impossibly so and though it would only increase her own discomfort, she placed it into the pack she kept on her back, removing some of her instruments to another pack.

"Now we go North, to find the next one." She had already mapped out their course as the orcs had dug but she had apparently found the limits of her control. The largest of the remaining orcs refused. "No witch, we go East to Mordor, to claim our reward." There was no intimidating or seducing them out of their path so East they went. It was more hard travelling and it got worse as the weather worsened. Storm clouds, lightning then a cold rain that soaked them all. Finally Lôminzil convinced them that if they didn't stop and find her some shelter, they would end up returning a corpse to Mordor and their reward would be much less than expected. Just before crossing the River Lefnui, the orcs veered North, finding a cave in the last stretch of mountains before the broad river valley. Lôminzil was shivering at this point, soaked to the bone. "I need a fire." She told them, trusting only in their fear of returning to Mordor without the witch to keep her alive. When they complained she pulled off her heavy pack. With what felt like the last vestiges of her strength she pulled out the Shard, uncovering just a part of it. The light filled the cave, the orcs cursed, but the warmth and light felt heavenly. Lôminzil slept as the orcs stood guard in the dark and the rain.
 
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