The Barracks

[Gandalf the White]

A black robed figure suddenly appeared before Tinaldor, his hood of rough cloth pulled over his eyes, leaving only his mouth and lower jaw visible. "Lord Tinaldor, you and Élraina will be a great asset to the defense of Isengard. I fear for your apprentice, for she was not forged in the fire of battle as you and I were, and she does not posess the weapons of war that we do." said the figure, holding up his hand, and as his robes slid back, revealing the black tattoo he had taken into himself, as well as a ring with a small purple stone. "Lady Élraina, please take this, it has served me well, and helped in the fashioning of many of my works." he said, pulling the ring from his finger. Clutching it in his hand, red sparks surrounded his hand, and as he handed the ring to Élraina, the gem turned into a sky blue, instead of it's previous violet.

[Élraina LÓminís]

Élraina felt an unfamiliar wave of excitement sweep over her... she grinned “Yes M’lord”...she could not believe she was actually excited about the prospect of riding to war. It appalled the last shred of her old self that clung on to the ideas and beliefs of her parents... but it was soon drowned out by the stronger Dark side… She looked almost as formidable as the master himself when the final piece of her special crafted armour was in place. Her size and bulk were visibly less than his, and though the armour was very special it didn’t have the same finesse that was demanded of a rulers grab... but it mattered not to her because the look on the faces of the Orcs who helped her on with it was enough.. She nearly had the wicked humour to growl at them and watch them scuttle of like rats but there was no time. The moment she was ready Tinaldor called for her to mount the beast, which had been brought round from the stables for her.
Quickly following his lead she mounted the beautiful gunmetal grey mere... Grinath was a strong and fast warhorse from the same stock line as Nemphalos and had only been broken for riding a few weeks before... the beast stamped at the ground and snorted, her eagerness for the off matched that of her rider. Élraina laid her hand on the powerful shoulder muscle and let shared warmth pass between them... a horse and its rider needed a connection at the best of time.. But it was even more crucial on the brink of a battle where they would need to trust each other with out question. Kicking her heals in to the beast sides she moved her forward till she rode along side Tinaldor... for a while they rode in silence and behind them she could hear the host of Mordor forming up and following…
the reality of just how far she had come dawned on her leaving her a little breathless… but she didn’t fear it anymore, there was very little she feared any more… it was like she had been made for this moment, made and raised in the light, feeling all the love a child needs then shaped and moulded by the strong and skilled hand of the Dark lord. A Hybrid of dark and light, free to draw power from both sides. Finally she remembered the voice and the figure that had approach just before the horns had sounded... “M’Lord, something that happened on the training field, a voice, a figure in appeared before me, and spoke to me but was gone a second later when the horn call started “she puzzled for a moment and then added as much a statement ads a question “we travel to Isengard…” her voice trailed off as she thought over the warning she had been given about the enemy striking at Isengard.
As she pondered the thought she felt her horses step falter and the hair on its mane stand proud, before she had chance to react the figure she had just spoke of appeared in front of them . She sat back in the saddle and listened as it gave another grave warning to Tinaldor… but this time is conserved her readiness for the battle that faced them. The moment its attention turned to her she felt like is was held again her hand lifting to accept its gift automatically rather than by choice... the Ring slipped on to her outstretched finger and she felt a surge of power slam in to her so hard she had to grip the horse with her thighs. . Her whole body seamed to throb and for a moment she could think of nothing more, slowly she got used to it or at least she started to except the new feeling and her breathing which had become rapid and shallow, eased back in to its normal rhythm. She lifted her hand up in front of her, and took a better look at the beautiful ring, that fitted her finger as if it had been made for her, and even though it had the feeling of something as old as the rocks themselves there was not a single scratch or abrasion on it…when she finally found the strength to drag her eyes away from the ring, she looked directly at Tinaldor hoping to find some answers.

[Tinaldor]

"Elraina, meet perhaps the greatest hope of Middle-Earth, Mithrandir. Neither evil nor good, a wizard of fine intentions, and a fine warrior. His lore is second to none. And much like He says, you have not been forged in battle as I have, so I shall teach you as much as I can on the road. Listen hard and good, because in battle, you only need to make one mistake, and that will be your last. Let your anger flow, let it control your actions, but do not let it control you. Feel its power surge through you, and harness it. Fight like a dance, a smooth and perfected art. One step, one thrust, one slice only leads to another parry. Let your anger help you to concentrate solely on battle, on killing all you can. That is our way. Use your mind, the soldiers around you, and the terrrain. Use any situation to your advantage, and should an enemy make a mistake, crush him for it. Always keep moving, dont let the enemy catch you breathless. Theres no interlude in battle, it doesnt pause to let you catch up. And most of all, make a reputation. Make yourself respected, and soldiers will follow you. Make yourself revered, and a unit will follow you. Make yourself feared, and armies will follow you."
Tinaldor grinned as he told her all this information. He enjoyed teaching her as much as she enjoyed learning, he deemed. It felt good to recount battle, how to fight. Perhaps it might help even him.
"Stay with me and my elite guard during the battle. You shall see perhaps the most experienced and deadly fighting force in Middle Earth perform. Dont let it get to your head that I picked you and not them. Like I said you make a mistake, I may well have to pick one of them, and return your corpse to Rivendell....But if you want to know what I think, I think you will perform exactly like i expect you to, you will excell, and you will make your name here. "