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On a hill not far from the monsters that have captured Merry and Pippin, a certain ranger lies with his eyes closed and ear pressed to the ground, listening for the sound of footsteps. Soon his eyes open, and he stands up, whispering to himself, "Their pace has quickened." he looks toward the way the Uruk-hai took and sighs, "They must have caught our scent. Hurry!" he calls back to his two friends. Legolas easily catch up with the ranger as he runs off, but he still runs a little behind to be sure Gimli is okay. The blonde-haired elf glances behind him, seeing the red-haired dwarf tumbling down from the hill he stood on. "Come on, Gimli!" he runs off after Aragorn. 

Gimli is having a little hard time running. "Three days and nights pursuit. No food.No rest. And no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell." he says to himself and puffs out air bti continues his sprint. Soon they reach the same rock arch where the Uruks were some minutes before. Aragorn bends down and picks up p an Elven brooch from the ground. "Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall," he says. Legolas stops beside him and catches sight of the clip. His eyes widened in hope but also feared. "They may yet be alive," he says. Aragorn nods and sprints off again with Legolas and Gimli on his trail. 

Aragorn paused soon. He and his friends y gaze across the plains below. "Rohan. Home of the horse-lords. There is something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us." So Aragorn muses, and he feels Tatsuo's presence brush against his mind. He lets her in. elf stone. Her voice is soft and kind as always, though it is a little rare. Lady Tatsuo. Aragorn greets back, his eyes dazed, and Legolas looks back at him, knowing he is talking to someone in his mind. 

Must be Tatsuo, he thinks and continue to scout. He sees the uruks. They turn northeast. They're taking the hobbits to Isengard. he glances at Aragorn, whose eyes are clear again. "Legolas, what do your Elf eyes see?" the ranger from the north call, and legoals let his eyes fall upon the band of orcs and uruks. "The Uruks turn northeast. They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!" he says. Aragorn's eyes turn dark. "Saruman," he whispers. 

♛

Saruman is in his tower, his thin and withered hand outstretched over a black, red fiery orb. It pulsates as Sauron's eye burns inside. 'The world is changing. Saruman says tepidly to the dark lord as they connect through mind and soul or the orb known as a Palantír. 'Who now has the strength to stand against the armies of Isengard and Mordor? To stand against the might of Sauron and Saruman and the union of the two towers?' the white wizard asks no one in particular, but wer know he's talking to the only Sauron, as I mentioned earlier. 'Together, my lord Sauron, we shall rule this Middle-earth.' beneath the black tower, the orcs are working day and night, hacking down the trees around Isengard.

They are fed into the big fires in the culprits and caverns. 'The old world will burn in the fires of industry. The forests will fall. A new order will rise. We will drive the war machine with the Orc's sword, spear, and iron fists. We have only to remove those who oppose us.'

Now Saruman is standing among a group of Dunlanders, talking and encouraging them to attack Rohan. "The horsemen took your land. They drove your people into the hills to scratch a living off rocks." the gathering roars of the agreement calling things like "Murderers!" among other foul things. "Take back the lands they stole from you! Burn every village!" Saruman orders in teh end, and the group spins off, weapons raised.

Meanwhile, saurman is walking away from them back to his tower smiling sinisterly. 'It will begin in Rohan. Too long have these peasants stood against you. But more.'

In the city of Rohan, the Dunlanders are attacking a woman with a bloodied cheek, fastens straps to her horse and turns around, calling for her two children, who come running to her "Éothain! Éothain! You take your sister. You'll go faster with just two." the woman helps her son up first then her daughter. The latter mumbles that her brother is too small to ride the horse called Garulf, but she knows it won't help. Éothain has to ride him to safety if they want to survive. But the young girl's heart clenches at the thought of leaving their mother behind. "Listen to me. You must ride to Edoras and raise the alarm. Do you understand me?" the woman says and pats the horse. Éothain nods while he clutches onto his sister and the reins of the horse, who are a little uneasy but stands as still as he can. 

"Yes, Ma!" he says. Freda starts to cry and reaches for her mother " I don't wanna leave! I don't wanna go, Mama!" her mother takes her small face in her hands, making them lock eyes. "Freda, I will find you there." Morwen smiles sadly, but her smile falls as she has one of the villagers scream. she turns around to see Dunlanders and Uruk-hai enter the village, burning everything insights as the Rohirrim scream and run in all directions. "Quickly!" Morwen says and slaps the horse's rump and Garulf spriotns off. 

Hopefully, they'll reach the city of Edoras in time, and their mother will be unharmed. 

♛

A group of horsemen rides to Edoras. Éomer is in the lead, carrying a gravely wounded Théodred. Éowyn dashes the stairs to the Golden Hall and enters a bed chamber. She runs to the bed. "Théodred," she calls, and the prince seems to hear her but cannot respond. He has a bloody gash on the side of his head—éomer nods to his sister in the direction of Théodred'storso. The blonde-haired lady draws back the covers, and upon seeing Théodred's fatal wound, her lips tighten, and her eyes close. She looks up to catch Éomer's eye.

They nod and stand up, walking out of the prince's room and to his father, Théoden-king. But the man was old, withered, and motionless. "Your son is badly wounded, my lord," Éowyn says in a voice on the verge of breaking. Her uncle is not himself; that is clear as day. "Orcs ambushed him. If we don't defend our country, Saruman will take it by force." Éomer added. But from teh king's shadow, a man clad in black fur and pale as morning snow appears. His eyes are clear blue, but you can see he is not a kind man. At least not entirely. "That is a lie!" he hisses, startling teh two nobles who look at him. "Saruman the White has ever been our friend and ally." he continued and crouched down to the king, who mumbled the man's name feebly. 

"Gríma... Gríma..." Gríma, this man known as now, leans closer to the king. "My son...?Gríma...?" Théoden says, looking at the younger man for help. But Butman doesn't answer as Éomer speaks up, "Orcs are roaming freely across our lands. Unchecked. Unchallenged. Killing At will. Orcs bearing the white hand of Saruman." he dumps an iron helmet of an orc, and it indeed bears the white hand of saurman. Gríma's face contorts in anger, and he breathes in deeply before sourcing beside the king again. "Why do you lay these troubles on analready troubled mind? Can you not see? Your uncle is wearied by your malcontent, your war-mongering." as he says, these eyes drift onto Éomer, whose eyes glint in anger, and he questions teh older man's choice of words. 

"War-mongering?" the blonde-haired man grabs the greasy and pins him against a pillar. "How long is it since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price, Gríma? When all the men are dead, you will take your share of the treasure?" he spits, the venom in his voice evident. But Gríma doesn't want the treasure. His pale blue eyes wander to Éowyn as she walks by. the lady of Rohan stops to stare back for a moment before departing from the hall. Éomer jerks Gríma again and clutches his hand around Gríma'sjaw.

The captain of the guard has finally understood the snake's intention. He wants his sister, Éowyn. This triggers Éomer clear. "Too long have you watched my sister, too long have you haunted her steps." the blonde snaps. Gríma's eyes flick behind the proud captain and replace as his thugs yank Éomer off. "You see much Éomer, Son of Éomund. Too much." a thug punches the poor Éomer in teh stomach, making him double over. "You are banished forthwith from the kingdom of Rohan. Under pain of death!" Gríma hiss, and his eyes glint in sinister as the proud horse is dragged away. 

Oh, but wait, when you feel the wrath of the dragon, then you will be sorry little mortal. So miserable. she may not be there phsycilay, but that doesn't mean she can't lend strength to those who need it. So soon, saurman will be healed from teh wound, and his reign will end. 

In flames. 

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So here's the chap! I hope you're going to like it 

- saph