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Logs

Battle of Words

Tags: Bagurat,  Bugzlok,  Laegtiri,  Paleran,  Wynne

Short Summary: While Bagurat and a few scouts renew searching along the forest road, they are interrupted by a human, Elf, and Eagle. Surprisingly only one small injury resulted. Afterward, back in the Mordain camp, a new scout proves his worth.
Date (real-life): 2010-09-16
Scene Location: Grassy Knoll, Old Forest Road; Mordain camp, Northern Mirkwood

Old Forest Road, Grassy Knoll
The Old Forest Road ascends and descends a tall knoll at this point in its longitudinal traverse of the great forest. The winter forest is brown and brittle-looking around you, though the trees thin out around the bald knob of the hill. The early morning air is cold. After coming out of the protected forest dimness, the light here is blinding.

Sunlight streams through the gap in the trees onto the top of the rocky knoll.

Contents:
Wynne
Laegtiri
Paleran
Overgrown Tomb


[+TIME] Middle-earth time is:
Early Morning on Trewsday, Day 14 of December.
Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.

Real time is: 09:18:14 MDT on Thu Sep 16 2010.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
The forest all about is a collection of browned dead foliage, and beneath that winter canopy the gloom and darkness forever lurks. Only the large hillock that is bared to the sky is bathed in sunlight, and this morning there seems to be some kind of black rock set at its top. But upon closer inspection, what might have looked to be a rock due to its stillness, shifts suddenly, and a clawed hand emerges from a sleeve. No stone is this, but rather the shaman Bagurat, robed in black from neck to toe, with a crow-mask as always concealing her face. Currently, her lifted claw yanks the hood down lower over her head to shield better against the blinding light that streams from the sun.

From down near the base of the hill comes a few irritated snarls; a pair of scouts are bent over, searching and sniffing at the grass. They look none too happy. "Cursed yellow-eye!" one of them snarls loudly, shooting a glare to the watching robed form. "I say we might as well give up for now and go back to camp."


[Wynne(#16973)] Down a game trail that cuts through the forest, a rather large blood bay mare makes her way across the frozen leaf strewn ground. She is moving towards the tomb. A faint scent on the breeze causes the old mare to stop as her muscles tense despite her rider's urgings. Her nostrils flare and she paws the ground. Her rider is cloaked in a thick wool hunter green cloak. With a soft muttered curse, the rider pushes the horse forward, despite the fact that the large battle mare shies and stamps the ground with her large hooves. The breeze shifts again, and the sound of garbled voices in strange language meets the riders ears. The horse stops again of her own accord, her muscles are bunched tight.


[Laegtiri(#30836)]
        Amber eyes gaze down at the open knoll perceiving all the events that are taking place. Yet, the sentry remains out of sight for he is not in the tree or behind foliage, but high in the skies. Laegtiri glides through the air, his attention held by the yrch that plague the forest below him. He does not move to attack or cause trouble, but remains keen to the evil creatures' movements.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
"Quiet, fool!" hisses Bagurat in answer, narrowing her gaze against the glare of morning. "Did the Shrieker give you permission to abandon your jobs because of the dawn? Then keep looking until your eyes fall out. I don't want to have to report another failure to him the next time."

This earns little more than miserable mutterings from the scouts, and they slowly get back to work. Until that is, the smaller of the two straightens himself suddenly, sticking his nose high into the air. "Somethin' stinks...you smell it?" His hands move to the bow at his back, and he peers about warily.


[Wynne(#16973)] The rider's ears strain as she tries to make out the language. Her legs squeeze the mare's sides trying to get her to move forward. The mare finally jigs forward until they are just at the opening near the clearing. Now the mare can smell them and just as she was trained to do she lets out loud piercing whinny, that sounds more like a an out of tune trumpet. The sound echos off the trees and all seems to grow still in the forest. The rider tenses as does her legs on the mare's sides. The mare paws the air and then the ground, her neck is arched showing off muscles in that area of her body, as she waits impatiently for her rider to react.


[Laegtiri(#30836)]
        The movements of the yrch change causing the Eagle to halt his gliding and purely hover. He then hears the resounding nay of a horse located somewhere within the dense foliage. The feather's around the amber gaze shift into what may be considered an expression of concentration.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
The piercing neigh has a near instant reaction from the orcs, and quickly the scouts wheel about to espy the source of the disturbance as they squint toward the treeline. Swiftly do they set black-fletched arrows to their goblin-bows, though they do not draw their strings back just yet.

Up on the top of the hill, where there is a broader view, Bagurat has flattened herself lower into the deadened winter grass. The yellow lights inside the eyeholes of the mask glint with annoyance and malice, and the witch-orc hisses in Common through the metallic beak. "Come no further, intruder! Or you shall feel the sting of the Eye's darts! What is your business here?"


[Wynne(#16973)] The mare lets out another thunder of challenge as the jigs forward on her own. She now can be been seen half in the edge and half in the clearing. She continues to paw the ground and dance and jig. In Eothrik the rider answers back. "I will try not too, I am just passing through." The voice is female and the horse continues to paw the ground. The rider still hidden by the warm heavy cloak, she peers from beneath the hood to see if she can catch sight of who has glade hostage and why Terrwyn, her horse is acting hot. Her grey eyes glitter with panic. "Who are you and what is your business?" She can not help herself from asking. The mare lets out another voice of challenge.


[Laegtiri(#30836)]
        Laegtiri continues to hold is position, awaiting the next move in this battle of words. His claws reflexively openly and close as he seems to prepare himself for what may come next.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
Now that the scouts have a sight to set their evil glares upon, they focus their attention upon the half-revealed horse. One of the pair licks his lips with a vile black tongue. But still they wait, albeit impatiently, for some sort of order from the robed-orc before they loose their bows.

"I am the Death-Masked," answers Bagurat after a slight pause. "And we are soldiers for the Great Eye. I don't need to tell a meddlesome stranger what our business is, skai...I asked you the same first, in any case. Answer, or be gone!"


[Wynne(#16973)] "I am passing as I said, let me go and I will be gone." The horse does a half rear where her front legs lift off the ground slightly. When she lands, she paws the air again. The horse moves forward and the rider fights to pull her back. The rider does not appear in the mood to be used as a pin cushion. Nor does she appear to be ready fight for her bow rests unstrung across her back and her dagger is sheathed. "I have no business with your blackened hearts. Nor am I worth anything to you, alive or dead." Her cloak is mud stained as are the mare's legs and belly, both look like they have been traveling for a while. Two sets of leather saddle bags rest on the mare's rump, both are stamped with a coat of arms.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
A fresh snarl slips from behind the crow-mask as the rider's steed inches closer, and the next reply is tainted with an unpleasant laugh. "I disagree," says the shaman, finally pushing herself to her feet, and she holds her head high. "Alive or dead, we'd be certain to find some use for you and your pet. Afterall, it's been a while since the lads tasted horse for dinner." A spidery-fingered hand slips downward then, and taps over the hilt of a rusted scimitar at the witch-orc's side. Her second hand raises in a gesture to the archer uruks: wait for just a bit longer... They are disappointed perhaps, but listen nonetheless.


[Paleran(#17565)]
Unaware of the current interaction between the human and orc, Paleran is slipping from tree to tree, just off the main road, as being in wild lands, he remains careful and out of sight. Upon seeing the human's horse becoming agitated, the elf quietly draws his bow and attempts to remain out of sight, keeping his distance from the other two, not wanting to get involved as he is just trying to quickly move through what woods are left in this area.


[Laegtiri(#30836)]
        The situation approaches the ill and the time comes for the Eagle's intervention. Opening his golden beak, a loud screech is released and Laegtiri dives from the sky. The aviary moves in for a low sweep, but not directly attacking.


[Wynne(#16973)] The rider's eyes widen and her heart is now pounding against her chest. Sweat trickles down the bridge of her nose. The horse then suddenly stands squarely as the rider slightly shifts her weight in the saddle in a silent command. The horse's muscles are still tense and twitch beneath her coat. Her neck still arched and she yawns. The rider for her credit makes no move towards her dagger or unstrung bow. She licks her lips trying to find her voice as she gathers her thoughts. Then after a few more moments she speaks. "Well then we are at an impasse for I have no desire to have Terrwyn be on your menu." Her words though slight halting in nature are laced with fear.

The screech of the eagle does cause the horse to shy and the riders attention is now divided between the horse, the orc and the sky.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
Whatever response Bagurat was about to give, it does not come, for it is at that moment that the screeching sails down from above. And toward the sky the robed orc's eyes dart swiftly, and she flings up her sleeved arm against the blinding daylight. A string of curses parts her mouth in some fell tongue, and the shaman attempts to crouch low in the grass once more to hide herself.

The two scouts look from the mounted rider to the sky and back again. "Wh-what do we do, Holy One?" one of them calls nervously, wilding aiming his arrowtip up in the general area of the avian noises. "The High Shrieker -- he gave orders against shooting birds!"


[Laegtiri(#30836)]
        Laegtiri comes to hover just out of bowshot with his amber eyes set on the land-dwellers. As the great Eagle speaks, his words in the Common Speech ring in the glade. "Pollute these lands no longer, vile creatures of the East. Be gone from this land and bother its travelers no longer."


[Wynne(#16973)] The appearance of the Eagle has the poor woman dumfounded despite the fear. The horse shies again. This time the rider is fighting the rearing horse. Moments seem to crawl by before the rider is able to gain control of the horse again. Her arm muscles strain beneath the fabric of her clothing. She keeps a tight rein on the horse. The mare grinds her teeth against the bit in frustration. The woman's heart is still beating wildly against her chest and her eyes are still wide with both fear and awe now. This will be a story to tell her family around the great hall's fire.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
"Hold your arrows. You'll only waste them," is the hasty command the shaman offers to the archers, and she herself jerks her scimitar free of its sheath. She risks standing once more, and even now the wind from the great wings swirls the black robes. Bagurat's left hand is still raised as she squints into the sky. "No, sky-demon," says the witch-orc in garbled Westron. And though the expression of her face is concealed from view, the hint of fear and uncertainty can be heard in the voice. "These lands are as good as ours. Soon enough the Master will claim them all, and we, His loyal servants, shall be free to do whatever we please. It is you who should be gone, before you perish in Fire."

Meanwhile one of the scouts abandons courage and loyalty, and with a snarling, he tries to flee back into the cover of the trees. The second archer remains, and while the Eagle seems distracted with the shaman, he sets his attention on the human again. Carefully, slowly, he begins to creep closer to her and the horse.

COMBAT - Wielded: Blackened Scimitar


[Paleran(#17565)]
Seeing the situation starting to degenerate, the once-hidden elf appears in full view, bow drawn and arrow notched directly pointed between the eyes of the shaman. Paleran says carefully, as he moves forward, "Begone with you, yrch."


[Laegtiri(#30836)]
        "Do not be so sure, for the arrogent tend to be the first to fall," replies Laegtiri from his high vantage point. The dark gaze continues to remain set on the visible scimitar that has been wielded. "Leave now and there shall be no defiling this land with your black blood."


[Wynne(#16973)] Eyes still wide the rider continues to keep a tight rein on the horse and the horse continues to grind its bit. The rider though trained to ride with the army is not a fighter herself, though she is not unarmed. With the appearance of the elf, she shakes her head and her hand moves to her side where her dagger is. Not like, she will be able to do much with it but then again her beloved Terrwyn is all teeth and hoof.

The Mare arches her neck and makes a show of teeth. Her hot breath plumes from her nostrils like bellows on a forge as they flare. She snakes her neck around as she catches sight of the orc and with a screech, she rears up on her hind legs as she whirls around to strike him with iron shod front hooves. The rider keeps her seat as her legs give more silent commands to the horse and her dagger is now forgotten.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
The daring scout gives a frightened yell at the mare's rearing, and he tries to scamper away; but too late. There is a sickly snapping noise as one hard hoove connects with his poorly armored shoulder, and that arm goes limp. The bow is dropped to the ground, and the uruk makes to dart to the side of the horse, his feet aimed toward the shelter of the forest beyond.

The appearance of the Elf does not improve things in the orcs' point of view, and Bagurat's nails scrape along the hilt of her blade, her yellow eyes flickering hatefully from behind the beaked mask. For a moment she mutters angrily to herself in the fell language of their Master. "<Morbeth> Curse the albai-filth! Burn them, and crush them, bubhosh, skai!" For a long moment the witch-orc glares from eagle, to elf, and finally to human. Then, she hisses anew in Westron, though it is no less filled with malice. 'Fine, we will leave now...' and the shaman takes a pace backward. 'May the Eye be merciless in His judgement on you all when the End comes.'


[Laegtiri(#30836)]
        "And may the Valar have mercy on you when your life is ended," answers Laegtiri to the orc as he continues to remain vigilant in his watch, wings flapping at a constant rythem.


[Wynne(#16973)] The rider on the horse has the horse do three short hops on her hind legs before she jumps towards the shaman. The mare's ears are pinned back and her tail is held high as she lands just short of the orc. There is a fierce look in her eyes.

The hood of the riders cloak falls back and revealing her now pale face and has a slight look like she is green around the gills. Her lips are pulled tight into a frown and sweat pours off her brow and down her neck.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
Bagurat offers nothing more than a snarl to Laegtiri's words, and she does not sheath her blade with him hovering so close. She seems loath to let the eagle's threatenting shape out of her sight, and the witch-orc's retreating movements are slow...that is until the horse leaps a little too close for comfort. With a startled growl the shaman stumbles backward, and now the fleeing steps are much, much faster as she aims them for the dark of the treeline.


[Laegtiri(#30836)]
        As the rider charges toward orc, the Eagle but watches. Yet, as the creature attempts to flee into the woods, the great aviary calls, "Let it run, for you do not know what trap you may be led into."


[Wynne(#16973)] With a nod, the woman pulls the horse back as speaks softly in soothing tones. "There now my love. They are gone." She takes the reins into one hand as her other pats the horse's neck. The mare's nostrils are still flaring. She continues to paw at the air and the ground like she did before but her ears twitch indicating that she is listening. "There now my little dove." The riders grey eyes come to rest on the eagle. "My lord forgive me but ye are something myths and legends. Stories told around the hall or camp fires."

-----------------------------

Mirkwood

The view is blocked in all directions by towering dark trunks, holding heavy and crooked boughs hight above the ground. The strange ancient forest seems to draw more and more strenght from you as you travel deeper. Beneath you feets the forestbottom is frozen and around you the nighttime winter air is chilly.
To the west is a small gap between the bushes and a well used trail lies towards the towering trees, southwest of you.

A lone star sparkles for a moment between the clouds, but dissapears again as the boughs block the sight to the sky.

Contents:
Bugzlok
Morian Orc Camp
Orc Raiding Party
Obvious exits:
West, East, NorthWest, and SouthWest

[+TIME] Middle-earth time is:
Nighttime on Trewsday, Day 14 of December.
Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.

Real time is: 14:26:51 MDT on Thu Sep 16 2010.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
Night has fallen over Mirkwood, and many flickering fires have been lit inside the Mordain encampment. A multitude of orcs can be seen scampering about on duty or seeing to some other task, while others spar, bicker, and gnaw at the night's meal over the firepits. It is the usual scene of disorder and raucous noise.

While all this is going on in the background, there is a small commotion at the camp's border, and two scouts come running in from the shadow of the outer forest. One of the uruk's seems to have a broken arm, judging by the way it hangs awkwardly, and both of them bear frightened looks on their twisted faces. And behind them comes a third shape, robed and masked, into the camp. Though Bagurat's expression is veiled, the yellow eyes that glare about look none too pleased.


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         Entering the encampment from the other side is the Uruk scout Bugzlok, this scout is covered in dirt, more so than normal for an Uruk. He walks though the encampment, his tattooed body illuminated in the firelight as he walks, a dark look upon his twisted face. Stopping beside a fire the snatches a chuck of mean from another Uruk.. Backhanding the creature when he goes to protest..
 
         Munching upon the meat, with trails of blood flowing down his tattooed chin.. He continues to walk through the camp, seeing the other scouts enter the camp with the shaman he grins evilly between bites and heads in their direction.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
The two scouts who just arrived continue to bumble about the tents, shouting something about 'horses, and elves, and a giant bird.' They are for the most par ignored by their superiors, and they finally quiet after a Rakarg barks an order.

Meanwhile, Bagurat pauses by one of the flaring fires, and when she raises her head again, her eyes alight upon the form of Bugzlok. Unseen, her mouth twists into a fanged grin, and she raises one arm to greet, motioning that he should come closer.


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         Still chewing away on the large chunk of meat, Bugzlok sees the shaman wave him over and heads over.. Arriving at the fire he bows his head saying "Shaman.. Thanks are indeed in order.. For I was made a scout upon my errand to the scout.." taking another, rather large bite of meet, letting the blood flow down his tattooed chin once again.. Chomping away he says with his mouth full "Much potential in me it seems.."


[Bagurat(#24847)]
The witch-orc does not respond right away, instead glancing the second goblin over as he gives his information. "A scout now," she nods at last, seemingly satisified. "Much potential they must have seen, indeed. You are lucky to be noticed amongst all of the others...but the High Shrieker's warning now applies to you as well now. Do not fail in finding the albia-paths, or he shall be most displeased...as will I."


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         A nod is given and the new Uruk scout says "I have heard such.. And have just returned from the search.." taking another bite of meat he says "We will not fail in our search for these albia-paths.. They will be found.. Yes.." squatting down he tosses the remains of his food into the fire.. It being mostly bones at this point.. Looking up to the shaman again he grins.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
"We shall see how well you and the others do," says the shaman. Slowly, with a flicker of the yellow gaze from behind the mask, she takes a step away from the fire. "But if you are to succeed as a scout, you need to prove your worth with steel, yes?" There is a sharp grating of metal as Bagurat draws the cruel curved scimitar at her side. "Shall we see what you can do?"

COMBAT - Wielded: Blackened Scimitar


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         Another smile comes from the Uruk scout, and drawing his crude scimitar as he stands.. His eyes fixed upon the shaman, licking his dark lips he says "Yes.. A test of my abilities.." and with that he leaps forward swinging his crude scimitar wildly.. Aiming for the shamans right shoulder, with a downward strike.

[Combat(#13388)] Bugzlok draws his scimitar from its scabbard.

Bugzlok attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and he misses!


[Bagurat(#24847)]
Bagurat slips sideways to avoid the second blade, her long robes slithering over the dead and trampled grass. A soft snorting sound comes from the metal beak, and then she angles her own scimitar forward, seeking the scout's lower leg. Down the weapon swings.

You attack Bugzlok with your Scimitar...
[Combat(#13388)->Bagurat]
Bugzlok dodges your attack.


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         Side stepping just in time to avoid the attack the Uruk scout grunts his distaste at his own miss and lunges forward once more, this time thrusting his sword forward aiming it at the thigh of the shaman, and sly grin upon his twisted tattooed face.


Bugzlok attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and he misses!


[Bagurat(#24847)]
Three misses. The witch-orc hisses slightly, and the eyes narrow in concentration as she avoids the attack for a second time. The orc-blade is raised again, firelight glinting off its edge, and then out it flies for Bugzlok's leg once more as Bagurat takes a half-pace forward.

You attack Bugzlok with your Scimitar...
[Combat(#13388)->Bagurat]
Bugzlok parries your attack with his Scimitar!


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         swinging his blade in a downwards motion just in time to parry the attack by the shaman, the Uruk scout hisss at the shaman then swings his blade upwards, as if trying to strike the armpit of the shaman.


Bugzlok attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and he misses!


[Bagurat(#24847)]
And the weapon-wielding arm jerks backward in time to see Bugzlok's sword cutting naught but air. "Have to try better than that," there is a small laugh, ere the shaman brings her scimitar down, this time aiming for the scout's shoulder.

You attack Bugzlok with your Scimitar...
[Combat(#13388)->Bagurat]
Your attack against Bugzlok mildly wounds him!


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         this time the scout does not move nearly fast enough, for the blade of the Shaman strikes his shoulder, grunting from the pain he says "We shall see Shaman.. We shall see.." and with that he thrusts his scimitar forward, aimed at the stomach of the shaman.


Bugzlok attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and he misses!


[Bagurat(#24847)]
As the other's blade sails forward, the witch-orc takes a hop in reverse, though the attack does manage to score a rip in the front of her black robe. She hesitates for a moment, yellowed gaze darting here and there as if to spy out a weak spot. Slipping close again, she slashes for his left forearm.

You attack Bugzlok with your Scimitar...
[Combat(#13388)->Bagurat]
Your attack against Bugzlok mildly wounds him!


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         Again the Uruk scout feels the sting of the shamans blade.. Hissing he looks to the cut along his arm and grunts.. raising his arm he licks the wound and glares at the Shaman.. Then sidestepping slashes with his scimitar, aimed for the shoulder of the shaman.


Bugzlok attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and he misses!


[Bagurat(#24847)]
Once more Bagurat snakes away out of reach, and she pauses for a minute, lowering her blade to peer at her fellow. "A few more then," there is a slight mockery to the voice, "or shall we stop?"

[Combat(#13388)->Bagurat]
You forego your chance to attack.


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         To hear the shaman mock him the Uruk Scout grumbles and then says between gritted fangs "A few more, yes.." and with that he bends his knees and springs forward into a jump, swinging his crude scimitar in a downward attack, aimed for the head.. Possibly the shoulder of the shaman.


Bugzlok attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and you parry his attack with your Scimitar!


[Bagurat(#24847)]
There is a bonus about pausing and waiting -- it is easier to foresee a strike coming. And so it is that as the scout's scimitar is intercepted with a clang of steel and batted to the side. "You hit something this time, at least," says the Malkog, peering down at him. Instead of raising her own scimitar, she jerks her head forward now that Bugzlok is close -- seeking to catch him on the top of the head with the metal beak of her mask.

You attack Bugzlok with your Scimitar...
[Combat(#13388)->Bagurat]
Your attack against Bugzlok mildly wounds him!


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         The beak of the shamans helm crashes into his nose.. Causing it to pour blood, hissing once again and wincing in pain the Uruk scout shouts "I will return this wound.. You wait.." and with that he raises his scimitar once again and slashes at the stomach of the shaman, a look of rage is this Uruk.


Bugzlok attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and he hits! Ouch!

ARB: You've been injured for 1 hp's by Bugzlok's attack...
...you have 89 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
Return the wound he does, and it earns a fresh snarling from the witch-orc, who stumbles backward with her left hand over the cut in the black fabric. Whatever armors Bagurat appears to be for the most part unharmed, though a trickle of black blood leaks from between her spidery fingers. "Good," she acknowledges with a new nod of the mask. "I am starting to see a bit of this 'potential' you spoke of."

Her right arm lifts, and swings the orc-blade for Bugzlok's shoulder.

You attack Bugzlok with your Scimitar...
[Combat(#13388)->Bagurat]
Bugzlok dodges your attack.


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         A nod is given and it seem the rage of the Uruk scout has calmed, jumping out of the way of the attack he then lunges forward and slashes at the scimitar arm of the Shaman, a sly grin upon his twisted face again.


Bugzlok attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and he hits! Ouch!

ARB: You've been injured for 1 hp's by Bugzlok's attack...
...you have 88 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
The shaman attempts to yank her arm out of the way, but not quick enough, and she gives a grunt of pain as her sparring partner's sword scores a long line across her forearm. Blood streams freely from the gash, and Bagurat narrows her eyes again. Quick as a snake, she thrusts her hand forward anew, seeking to land a blow with the blade's flat over Bugzlok's middle.

You attack Bugzlok with your Scimitar...
[Combat(#13388)->Bagurat]
Bugzlok dodges your attack.


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         Lunging backwards out of the way of the shamans attack the Uruk scout grins again at the shaman saying "Tired shaman.." and then sidestepping he slashes out with his scimitar aimed at shamans chest..


Bugzlok attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and you parry his attack with your Scimitar!


[Bagurat(#24847)]
Steel meets steel once again with a loud scraping, and the robed-orc pushes the scout's weapon off to the side with her own. "Yes, enough for now," she agrees, her own breath panting slightly, and Bagurat takes a step away. "You will make a fair scout, I deem. You've earned my satisfaction." The rusted scimitar is returned to its sheath.

[Combat(#13388)->Bagurat]
You train Bugzlok in the scimitar.

[Combat(#13388)->Bagurat] Unwielded: Blackened Scimitar


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         Sheathing his scimitar the Uruk scout bows his head saying "A good match no.." licking the wound upon his arm he grins and says with undertone of confindent "I hope to rise within ranks due to my skill"

[Combat(#13388)] Bugzlok slips his scimitar back into its scabbard.


[Bagurat(#24847)]
"Rise you will I think," nods Bagurat. "We shall see. In the meantime do your job well, and you may be surprised how far you get. And stay in the Shrieker's favor. I must return to my tent now, and see to something." Gesturing wih one of her long gnarled fingers, the shaman points the black tent out from the others. "If you should need me for anything, that is where you can seek me." That said, the witch-orc begins to move off.


[Bugzlok(#11425)]
         A bow of his head is given from the Uruk scout as the shaman leaves, then he says "I will find these trails.. " licking the wound upon his arm again he bows his head once again to the shaman.

 


Date added: 2010-09-16 20:00:02    Hits: 65
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