A/N: Sorry that I haven't updated in a while! I will be posting about once a week, just thought I'd let readers know. On with chapter two!

Chapter Two: Injury

Faramir and his Rangers headed west, following the track but making sure to keep to the trees. At nightfall they stopped to make camp and have something to eat.

xoox

Faramir waited until all his Rangers, except for the watchman, slept before he set off. He took his bow and swung his quiver over his back. The Ranger lay down and crawled on his belly to the nearest tree, careful to avoid detection. He didn't want to answer any awkward questions. He grabbed one of the tree branches and let himself down the steep bank onto the track.

xoox

Faramir followed the winding path for two miles before he found the orc camp he had been seeking. The orcs were camped with Haradrim and a huge múmak stood nearby. When he was young, Faramir had been taught a rhyme about the big creatures, but he was not in particularly good spirits and did not care to recall it at this moment. Suddenly the Ranger had an idea. All he needed to do to stop this group of orcs and Haradrim from laying waste to Osgiliath was to shoot the múmak – it would go wild and tear down the camp, killing most of the occupants. Slowly, Faramir reached for an arrow, his hand trembling. He was so intent on his task that he did not hear the soft footsteps behind him.

xoox

"We'll have none of that!" said a shrill voice behind him, "Or I'll stick you in the belly!" The Ranger dived backwards but then shrieked as the orc plunged a knife into his side. A second pain lanced through him and he knew that the knife had been pulled out. Faramir looked up at his attacker from his position on the ground. Its face had a huge scratch down it and its grubby helmet barely fitted onits head. In the creature's hand was a long, dirty knife, raised high above its head. "I warned you didn't I – no funny business, but you didn't listen, did you? Now you shall die!" Faramir raised his hands in an attempt to shield himself. All of a sudden, something black landed on the Ranger's tunic, which was very rapidly becoming blood-soaked. He looked up. The orc, who was swaying slightly, slumped down onto his side. In its back, buried nearly up to its fletchings of seabirds' feathers, was an arrow, a Gondorian arrow. Someone had come to his rescue. Then, the Ranger's world went blurred, and all went black.

Sorry for the short chapter, I'll try to make them longer! The one that I'm currently working on should be a bit lengthier.

-Mordorian Firehawk-