A/N: Silz here. Get excited, we have some cool action here and the first adventure with the new crew! Those of you who read my Dreams of Power might recognize a face here!

Eddil, Aldamir, Gram, Timothy, Thorongil and Elerína bought provisions for their journey to Cirith Ungol and left the city to retrieve their horses from the stables just beyond the main gate.  The stables were very busy - Minas Tirith saw many visitors and none save royalty could bring their steeds within the walls without special permission which was rarely granted. The six travellers mounted their horses and left for the Morgul Vale soon after sunrise.  Eddil set a torrid pace, for it was his beloved whose life hung in the balance.

They rode quickly through Osgiliath.  Thorongil would have liked to spend more time in the old city but they were on a tight schedule.  To sneak past the King's guard at Minas Ithil and into Mordor would require the cover of darkness, and Eddil wished to be on the stairs before midnight.

In the evening they arrived at the entrance to the Morgul Vale.  To get past the guards the company split up. Along the main road Timothy and Elerína went to speak to the guards under the false pretense of having taken a wrong turn at the crossroads.  While the guards were distracted the four adventurers heading to Mordor would sneak along a dike near the road. The flaw in the plan was the extra four horses. Elerína suggested they use them as their cover story - they would claim to be delivering the horses to Minas Tirith.

The plan worked.  Everyone made it into the Valley of Sorcery and reached the bridge to Minas Ithil unchallenged.  Only two men guarded the entrance to the stairs. Elerína distracted them with questions about the valley's history.  Timothy was amazed by how easily she turned their attentions away from their charge.

Eddil led his three companions up the start of the Stairs of Cirith Ungol.  They travelled light. Eddil carried his sword, made of solid steel forged in Dol Amroth.  He also carried a short-bow of maple on his back and a small quiver with no more than ten arrows.  Behind Eddil came Gram, carrying a one-handed ax and a green shield bearing the white horse of Rohan.  Aldamir came third, carrying an elvish longsword - an expensive gift from his father for the completion of his training in swordsmanship.

Thorongil wore green and brown garments above his mysterious black armor.  At his left side hung his sword, and around his back beneath his cloak were hidden eight silver throwing knives.

They climbed the stairs for hours before reaching the entrance to the tunnel.  Even Thorongil hesitated at the entrance. He was not sure if in his present form he could face the black spider's eldest daughter.

The tunnel smelled of death and poison.  Any hope they clung too that Sam had slain Shelob quickly faded as they began the dark journey.  Massive webs lined the walls. Thorongil drew his sword and by its pale red glow they navigated the smooth shaft through the mountains.  They made it through the tunnel unchallenged and came upon a fork in the road.

"It's not getting into the Land of Shadow that's the problem," Thorongil muttered.  "It's getting back."

They took the right path towards the main gate of Cirith Ungol.  Thorongil advised against this, wishing to sneak into the tower immediately by the back door.  While it was true that they had no idea what fate had befallen the ranger company, Thorongil felt that Cirith Ungol was the only place they would be found alive, and the view from the tower would help them regardless.  He was outvoted three to one.

As they snuck along the main road they caught their first glimpse of the tower.  The flickering light of a fire came from the highest windows.

Aldamir drew his sword an inch.  The blade glowed faintly blue.

"Orcs," they all muttered.

Thorongil spent a few minutes staring at the tower.  His eyes could see far more than his companions' but despite his efforts the stone walls blocked his sight.  He cursed Manwë's insistence that he should come to Middle Earth trapped in this human form. Ilmarë had been allowed to keep most of her power.  He, like Gandalf before him, had come in the form of a man with only a shadow of his true nature at his disposal.

Manwë had assured him it would be vital to his success.  At the moment it seemed like nothing but a handicap. He couldn't cast down the castle walls with a word of his native tongue, or fly over them and attack from atop the highest tower - at least not without shedding his present form and abandoning his King's council entirely.

A more immediate concern was not his inability to see inside the fortress but the entire company's neglect of their flank.  As Thorongil stared into the night the other three argued over their intended course, and all failed to hear the uruk scouting party hastily coming up the road from Shelob's Lair.

The fifty orcs were almost upon them when Thorongil felt their presence.

There wasn't really an opportunity to fight.  The orcs took the three men captive before they had a chance to react.  Thorongil escaped by leaping into a crevice in the rock through which the road was hewn.  A bit of luck and his magic shrouded him from sight until the orcs moved along, the three bound men in tow.

The Eddil and company quickly accomplished the first half of their mission: they found the missing rangers.  All three would-be rescuers were thrown into a great steel cage with what remained of Caranel's company of rangers.  Ten remained alive, hungry and tired. Caranel was among them.

Eddil embraced her but their joy was short lived.  A massive orc, seven feet tall, ordered several of his archers to take aim through the steel bars of their prison as he unlocked the door.

"The female tonight!" he roared.

"Goodbye love," said Caranel as she signaled two of her comrades to hold Eddil back.  After a brief kiss she walked out of the door which the orc locked behind her. They took her from the hall as Eddil screamed curses.

"You just let them take you?" Eddil shouted.

"To fight a battle under these circumstances would be suicide," said the captain of the rangers, a man named Miller.  He gestured through the iron bars. "They can sit out there and pick us off with their bows. They seem to think we know something important - they feed us, and they take one of us each night for interrogation.  They return the body in the morning. Unless a means of escape presents itself, there is nothing to do but wait and hope for a change in our fortunes. One casualty per day is acceptable losses under the circumstances."

"Acceptable losses!" screamed Eddil.  "Is that what she is to you, a figure on a ledger?"

A fight would certainly have broken out had Aldamir not stepped between Captain Miller and Eddil.  Gram pulled Eddil away from the rangers and tried to console his friend in a corner. As Eddil wept Aldamir spoke with Miller.

"What are so many orcs doing this close to Gondor?" asked Aldamir.

"That isn't clear," said the captain.  "From idle chatter we have gathered that they answer to some witch or sorceress who is elsewhere.  They don't seem to like her very much, but orcs are generally ruled through fear."

"Any hope of escape?" he asked.

"We have been unable to pick the lock, and only the orc's leader Gronak carries a key," answered the Ranger.  "It's a pity; our weapons and armor are strewn along the far wall."

Despite their best efforts, when morning light came through the windows of their prison the door to their cell was still locked up tight.  Two large uruk-hai entered the room outside their cage, followed by a figure in black armor and cloak. They could not see his face, but his eyes seemed to glow red from beneath his hood.  He was carrying a body.

The black clad figure placed Caranel gingerly down before the iron gate of their cell.  She was alive - barely.

"Would one of you boys like to finish her?" he asked the two orcs.  Both drew their weapons walked towards him, out of view of the hall that led back towards the main barracks of the fortress.

Eddil didn't even have time to curse his enemies for their barbarism or say a last goodbye to Caranel.  As soon as the two orcs were up alongside Caranel the black clad warrior threw off his hood. This was not the execution the orcs had anticipated!  They had no time to raise their weapons as Thorongil relieved them of their heads with one sweeping stroke. The captives stood aghast.

"What's wrong?" Thorongil whispered.  "Haven't you seen a jailbreak before?"

Thorongil had used the night well.  After sneaking back to the tunnel and through the back door of Cirith Ungol he had crept through the fortress sealing various doors with magic as he went until he stumbled across some drunken orcs.  From their rantings he learned both of Caranel's plight and the location of the prisoners.

He had reached the top of the tower unnoticed and found Caranel beaten and bloodied but alive.  Gronak, a seven foot tall orc who must have had some Olag-hai blood, threatened to kill her if Thorongil didn't surrender.  Thorongil proposed that each put down their weapons and face one another in unarmed combat. The orc demanded Thorongil drop his sword first, which he did.  Gronak, despite appearing to have a great advantage in this sort of contest, broke his word and charged Thorongil with his mace. Thorongil drew a silver dagger from his belt and threw it straight into Gronak's eye socket before the brute could reach him.

After doing what little he could for Caranel's wounds Thorongil discarded his ranger's gear in favor of wearing his black armor openly.  He then carried her down through the castle answering any challenge with ‘The Lady's Lieutenant.’

He quickly unlocked the door to their prison with a key taken from Caranel's torturer and the rangers immediately sprang into action.  They donned their armor and weapons in scarcely a minute. Caranel could not stand on her own so Eddil and Gram helped her walk.

"We should have a fairly clear path out of the castle," said Thorongil.  "Follow me!"

Thorongil led them through winding passages.  A number of doors they passed were in the process of being hewn down as the orcs tried to cut off their escape. Thorongil had sealed their escape route and the orcs were not clever enough to try to cut them off at the fork in the spider's tunnel.  As they reached the door to Shelob's domain half a dozen orcs barred their way. Without slowing down Thorongil cut through them with his red sword.

"Who is he?" Caranel asked Eddil as he helped carry her.

"He wouldn't say," he replied.  "He goes by 'Thorongil,' which Timothy said was an alias of King Aragorn's long before Sauron's war."

As they left the fortress and entered Shelob's Lair Thorongil stopped the company.  He felt certain Shelob would not let them pass without an attack.

"We must move quickly but cautiously," he said.  "I can try to protect you from Shelob, but if you run when I engage she will leave me to catch you.  You need to stay as close to me as you can while keeping me between you and her."

The men nodded and the company began the long march down Shelob's tunnel.  They nearly made it safely though, but Shelob was waiting for them near the western exit.  Thorongil stepped to face her as the rangers inched backwards in horror. She raised her front legs up in a defensive posture - she knew who she was facing, and expected to have to weather a barrage of lightning and daggers from The Herald of Manwë before getting a chance to take some of the rangers.  She and Eönwë had first met long ago in the broken mountains south of Angband.

"Hello there," said the Spider.

"I've been looking forward to this," Thorongil replied.  He wasn't sure this was a fight he could win, but he needed Shelob to think it was.

"How sweet," replied the monster, venom spitting from her mouth.  "You even brought dinner!"

"Stand down, monster," threatened Thorongil.  He held out his sword and Shelob skittered back as the faint red glow suddenly grew to fill the tunnel.

"Monster?" said she, feigning insult.  "Why, you are more closely related to me than you are to them!"

Every word she spoke increased the rangers' terror and she knew it.  One near the back of the company turned to run back up the passage.

"Stand firm!" cried Thorongil.  "Her words are meant for you, not me.  She means to scare you into getting far enough from me that she can pick you off one by one.  She could live off your company for months - she is quite adept at keeping her prey alive."

The rangers all held their ground, terrified though they were.

"Now who is trying to scare them?" quipped Shelob.  "You learned your master's lessons well."

Thorongil knew time was not on his side.

"How's your belly?" he asked.

"Fine," hissed Shelob, her playful tone instantly turned to genuine anger at the mention of her wound.

"Good," smiled Thorongil.  "I heard you landed on something sharp.  I was robbed of the chance to kill your mother, and was worried a little hobbit had robbed me of you as well."

Shelob foamed at the mouth.

"As I understand it, that mistake cost you a very comfortable position," Thorongil laughed, "as Sauron's pet."

Shelob was not known for her composure.  Ungoliant's eldest daughter was patient and cunning but also proud and vain.  She spread all eight legs on the stone floor and crouched to pounce, hoping to kill as many of the rangers as she could before Thorongil could drive her away.

As soon as her guard was down Thorongil struck.  He threw out his left land and a lightning bolt flashed between Thorongil's palm and Shelob's eyes.  The shockwave of thunder in the tunnel nearly knocked the ranger company off their feet. Shelob screeched and spat as she leapt upwards into a hole in the ceiling and scampered away.  Her eyes would quickly heal but she could not fight Eönwë blind.

"Advance!" shouted Thorongil in pain.  He led them out of the tunnel and the sun was just peeking over the mountains as they began the long descent of the stairs of Cirith Ungol.  Thorongil clutched his left arm as though it were broken.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs a large contingent of Minas Ithil's garrison was waiting for them.  They had heard the crack of thunder. As the captain of the rangers explained what had happened to his men over the past week Thorongil slipped away from the crowd and found Elerína waiting for him with Timothy at her side.

"How is it?" she asked her husband.

"Bad!" he replied.  "Very bad."

Thorongil slowly removed his left gauntlet and the armor on his forearm.  Timothy gasped and stepped away. Thorongil was horribly burnt all across his hand and arm, and a deep gash extended from his palm all down his inner arm to his elbow, exposing muscle and bone.

"You can't do that!" exclaimed Elerína, taking his arm in her hands and beginning to bandage the wounds.  "You could have died!"

"Shelob was twenty feet in front of us," he replied.  "We all could have died."