God of middle-earth 15

Dundro muttered obscenities to himself as he flew back into the cornfields once again. The bag he bore on his back was starting to feel like a dead weight dragging him down. But no way was Dundro going to falter now.

He chanced not much more than a glimpse backward, only to find that the Orc Scouts were hot on his trail. In fact, they appeared much too close for comfort. He blew the hair from his eyes, panting profusely. He was still riding on an adrenaline boost but it was not going to last forever. The wind whistled by, Dundro's feet noiselessly slamming the ground. In a flash of inspiration, Dundro abruptly changed course towards the marshes, where he hoped he may be able to shake off his pursuers momentarily.

Unfortunately, so did the Orcs, it seemed. They split up and took two routes, converging on Dundro's intended destination.

The minutes ticked on... Dundro was already feeling the burn in his legs. He was calculating his options, but there wasn't much to consider given that the current terrain was homologous cornfield. He also noted that the sky was darkening and the made was now a bright orange disk set in the maroon sky.

To make things worse, an ear-piercing howl soon cut through the air like an arrow. Dundro's stomach turned violently. If the Wargs or something else entered the picture, he really was dead meat. His options were thinning out, and so was his stamina.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. His legs managed to carry him to a clearing in the fields, after which they promptly collapsed. Dundro landed on the earth with a painful thump. Legs twitching in fatigue, he crawled feebly among the long stalks and prayed.

It did not take more than a few seconds before a pungent scent filled the air yet again. Dundro cowered fearfully.

Dundro knew he had run out of ideas. If the Orcs could even follow him here, he was as good as dead. He remembered the very reason they were targeting him in the first place. He fished around in his breast pocket and gripped the vial. The pearly liquid sloshed around, appearing to have a glimmering aura in the dying sunlight. He barely had the faintest idea of what it was capable of but he wished hard that somehow he might escape from his plight.

The figures of the Scouts appeared in the clearing. Upon glimpsing their hideous visage, Dundro was gripped with overpowering fear. He made a valiant attempt to pick himself up and dash off as fast as he possibly could, but unfortunately his legs were still not up to the task, they were slumped uselessly on the ground. "Please go, please go, I'm not here", he thought furiously, as if that might help solve his current problems. And then, the Orc knelt down. Dundro's heart dropped into his throat. He screamed soundlessly as his throat choked up. The Orc peered into Dundro's exact location. The empty black eyes seemed to bore into Dundro's soul, the sallow, cracked skin was barely a foot away from Dundro.

The Orc breathed heavily. After a while, he picked himself up and stood up again. He grunted to his comrade and the both took off into the distance.

Dundro looked at the vial, eyebrows raised. "Huh," he wondered. And then, out of his fatigue, he promptly collapsed into a deep sleep.