Elendor Info

  • Increase font size
  • Default font size
  • Decrease font size
Logs

Battle and blood at a White Mountains village

Tags: Lominzil,  Indoron,  Adargraw,  Silmir,  Ssamori,  Fencrist,  Calardan,  Redyak,  Fuinlos,  Ithilkhor,  Menelglir,  Rukhet

Short Summary: A party of Gondorians riding the lands near Erech find that an abandoned village might not be so abandoned after all. Plague? Or something worse ...
Date (real-life): 2014-01-26
Scene Location: Western foothills -- Southern Ered Nimrais
Date (in-game): January 3061
Time of Day: Noon
Weather: Cold
Western foothills -- Southern Ered Nimrais

Standing between the the mountain range of Ered Nimrais to the north, and
Morthond Vale to the south, you look to see the long, chill, River Morthond
that flows southwards, across the Morthond Vale, or Blackroot, as it is known,
until it finally flows into the sea. With no way to ford the swiftly flowing
river, westerly travel is virtually impossible, and looking north, you fail to
see any feasable routes through the mountain range, but you can progress
southeast, along the foothills of the mountains, and the south is open as well,
leading deeper into Blackroot.
 
Contents:
 
Village(#13800ae)
Obvious exits:
East and South
 
----

Village(#13800ae)
 
The entirety of the village is enclosed by a sturdy wooden palisade constructed of evenly cut tree trunk lengths that have been set into what was an earthwork wall. The flat surface of the old earthwork provides a platform for the village's militia to watch the approach from the city from any side. The village has two great gates also crafted from wood, one to the north and one to the south, that serve to seal off the village during the night hours.
 
The southern gate seems to be in disrepair, and that is not the only sign that something is perhaps not entirely right. No guards patrol the walls, and the streets are entirely empty of inhabitants.
 
The village's buildings are set up on either side of a dirt road that runs north-to-south through this small village. The few homes and shops here are made of various materials including both wood and stone which are plentiful this close to the mountains. The doors to many of the homes and shops stand ajar or even knocked out of their frames entirely. Here and there are bones scattered about that have teeth marks in them as if they had been gnawed on, and more than a few of the buildings have what appears to be crude grafitti painted on the walls in a substance that is both crusty and brown on closer inspection
 
At the center of the village there is a central courtyard into which a deep pit has been dug and later covered with a makeshift wooden grate. Around the pit, inexpertely laid stones concentrically ring the deep hole forming the only cobbled area in the whole of the village.
 
(OOC Note: +inspect/list to see inspectable items.)

----
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
Once far and distant in warmer lands, now snow-clad peaks loom like giants. The Morthond's dark waters have grown colder and colder, and all is rimmed with killing frost, congealed now under the clouds of noon.
 
In the curious, absent stillness of the lands outlying Erech, a company of horsemen, armored and expedient, has entered the shadow of the Ered Nimrais, and now near the end of their road.
 
The lonely Swan, a fragment of blue, is the standard of this company, mixed though it may be. Its wing-helmed bearer, Lominzil, slows his horse.
 
"This is the location described," he says to his companions.
 
[Indoron(#30120)]   
Fuinlos shivers as he looks around at the scenery and calls out to Fencrist, "They say the Lady of Erech-Bragollach rules over the island of Tolcrist, sacrificing the islanders in the temple the pretender had built there for her." He frowns and adds, "A lady of such a dark and forbidding vale, no wonder..."
 
[Adargraw(#5440)]   
Just behind the squire is a tall figure clad all in black, the white tree of Gondor emblazoned upon his tabard. He draws even with the Squire and their guide at the head of the column, wearing neither mail nor helm.
 
[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir glances at Fuinlos, an eyebrow raised, before he turns back to the path and following Lord Nimothan close behind. He shivers a little, whether because of the chill or Fuinlos's words. "I have a bad feeling about this..." he murmurs to himself, looking around.
 
[Ssamori(#28156)]  
Just ahead upon this small road and nestled under the shadow of the mountains is a simple village. The peaks of its roofs rise over a wooden palisade wall supported by an earthwork.  
 
Still, it is far too still and quiet for a village durying the daylight hours. No guards can be seen watching the gates which are closed to the road. Indeed, it would seem the closest, southern gate into the settlement is not in the best of repair.
 
[Indoron(#30120)]   
Ithilkhor and his band of Isilrim escorts up from Lamedon ride along as rearguard to the company. The Men of Lamedon are not far from home and the tales of the upper Morthrond and the great black Erech look fresh in their minds by the looks on their faces. Their leader though looks sternly and unflinchingly about, serving as a rock for his men.
 
[Adargraw(#5440)]   
"Then let us see what lies in yonder village. I would have this journey ended." Adargraw's words are steel, and he kicks at the flanks of his courser. It is towards the gates that he makes, a glance and a gesture beckon Silmir and the pair of hostsmen forward as well.
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
"Yes," Fencrist says in reply to Fuinlos. "But I take heart in knowing Lord Steward and Gondor's armies will vanquish all enemies."
 
Seeing Adargraw pick up the pace, the man-at-arms clicks his tongue, bidding his horse to follow.
 
[Indoron(#30120)]   
Fuinlos follows as well.
 
 
[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir spurs his horse onwards, grasping his spear tightly. He glances back at the host men, then around at the surrounding area, still unable to shake the feeling of something bad coming.
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
"Set a watch about this wall, if you please," says Lominzil curtly, and trots forward last of all, his spear still flying.
 
"In the name of the Steward and the Prince, open," he calls, voice ringing in cold, to the closed doors.
 
[Ssamori(#28156)]  
As the party approaches the village, it becomes readily apparent that the southern most gate is slightly twisted and warped to one side as if it was shoved forcefully open at some point in the recent past. On both of the gate posts, facing out to the road beyond, there are multiple warnings written in what seems to be charcoal. 'Village quarantined due to sickness. Do not enter.'
 
[Calardan(#30834)]   
Hir Calardan has remained close to the Isilrim escort for much of the journey.
 
This day is not different.
 
This knight says little and his pace never changes much; a man of so many seasons and so many winters, here is but another journey towards a familiar end.
 
[Redyak]  
In sinister silence Orcs of a secret kingdom ready their bows behind the cover of the forested feet of the mountains but a stone's throw east of the village. They target the south gate and the road's approach.
 
With crafty camouflage from the tutelage of their scouting parties, a portion of their forces lie scattered in hiding amongst the bramble and jutting stones of this frozen landscape. They flank the road, as does their trickery.
 
Swathed in layers of stolen cloth, a mad mix of fabric, Redyak waits greedily behind the gate with a dozen warriors who would face their end in glory - ready to stain their mark upon the lands they seek to claim forever theirs.
 
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
Chewing his bottom lip, Silmir continues to look around the area as he follows behind the Captain. His horse paces uneasily, the page leaning to whisper reassurances in the horse's ear, stroking its neck. He doesn't sound particularly confident in his own words, though.
 
 
[Adargraw(#5440)]   
Upon reaching the gate, and seeing the state of it, the Nimothan lord halts, slipping easily from his saddle, he stands at the side of the steed, his hand reaching for the long parcel that is kept at its side, from which he slowly draws forth a great blade.  
 
"They do not open their gate," he says, frowning, "But the Isilrim would know of a quarantine so close to Calembel."
 
With that, the Captain of the White Tree stands forward, great blade in hand as he approaches the gate, to push it open.
 
[Indoron(#30120)]   
An order is barked by Ithilkhor and the riders of Lamedon, ten in all, fan out to the left and right of the road. They do not approach the village as of yet, but form a skirmish line southwards, awaiting the all-clear from the Hostmen who've gone forward.
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
"Stand back," says Lominzil to the rest. "Shields at the ready."
 
He says nothing of crazed plague victims.
 
[Indoron(#30120)]   
The Hostman Fuinlos slides down from his saddle as well and pulls free his sword as he backs up the captain Adargraw.
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
Fencrist and his mount come to a stop behind Adargraw. Lifting a leg over the horse's head, the man-at-arms drops to the ground and readies himself for a swarm of the insane.
 
 
[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir dismounts behind the captain. A borrowed shield is pulled down with him and placed on his arm before he moves forward. The spear is held firm, ready to defend against any gone mad with fever.
 
[Redyak]  
In a rush of color, as a stream of wild vagabonds, the warriors behind the gate burst it open, with Redyak at the front. They run past the group gathered before the village, winding and scattering in odd directions eastwards towards the trees - all the while howling and screaming, mixing in sparse westrong: "Run!" "Leave now!" and the clearest voice, "You will be doomed too!"
 
Along their paths they jump at random intervals for no clear reason. One mistimes a step, falling into a pit, shrieking in pain - his legs showing still above the hole.
 
In the shadows archers ready their arrows, drawing string and measuring the wind. To the west of the road forms slowly shapen upwards. Redyak continues his crude common, "Sickness, death, pain for all! Flee like we!"
 
[Adargraw(#5440)]   
A whirl of the great blade brings it's point down heavily into the packed earth before Adargraw, his right hand remaining in firm possession of its hilts as he reaches out with his left at one of the last of the warriors to rush past him, making a grab for whatever garb presents itself, he bellows, "HALT!"
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
Seeing only 'men' coming out of the village, and none coming at himself, Fencrist holds fast. "Poor fools, lost their minds."
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
As if following an escaping thought, Lominzil turns to peruse the road, his nostrils flaring in distaste. He lifts the spear-standard, warning, "Watch your - step."
 
[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir flinches as the sick men come out, but doesn't move away. He frowns, looking around. He stays behind Adargraw, trying to catch sight of these "men", but they move too much for him to catch a glimpse of their faces.
 
[Indoron(#30120)]   
The riders of Lamedon pull free their weapons as they watch as the warriors gush forth from the village past the Hostmen. Still they wait, but then when one of the warriors misjudges his step and ends up in a pit, Ithilkhor shouts, "NO CHARGE, MEN! The ground is broken! Stay where you are!" He frowns, clearly not eager to go forward across unknown ground.
 
[Redyak]
The hindquarters of the last fleeing figure are exposed as cloth falls limp in Adargraw's hand. A black-hued shirt of mail hangs low, a blade bobbing backwards through the rip with his maddened run. At the fore of the sick parade Redyak begins wildly waving his arms over his head - and a number of his covered comrades mimic the gesture.
 
[Adargraw(#5440)]   
"It's a trap!" comes the clear tenor of the tall Captain, unlost in the onrush of the foul, ill-disguised foes only due to his own great height.  
 
"To the road, and the banner of Amroth!" comes his command, even as he releases the piece of cloth from his left hand, it seems less sword than scythe as he grasps the blade itself, just above the great crossbar and swings it violently back towards his left, the great length of the blade and the force of his strength meant to clear a swathe around him.
 
[Ssamori(#28156)]  
Hidden among the foilage, a signal is passed down a line of Uruk-hai first in the east and then in the west. Dark words whispered amongst themselves as those in the east draw their bows taught and site along quivering, black shafts.  
 
At the center of the hidden eastern line is a golden-eyed female of their kind, who tilts her head and scents the breeze as she watches from the lofty eastern perch that looks over the village below. Slowly, Ssamori lifts a blackened dagger into the air, holding it above her hand as she watches Redyak and his cronies burst through the village gate.
 
Breathin in deeply, she flips the dagger around in her hand and tosses it into the ground at her feet. At this signal, the eastern line fires first, followed by the western line, and arrows reign down from hidden enemies on either side.
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
"Shields!" shouts the Squire, still mounted and bearing banner with both hands, threshing left and right to clear the path.
 
[Calardan(#30834)]   
As the Isilrim riders ride away from him, Hir Calardan brings his steed to a halt. A fading intuition belongs to him, the reward of a lifetime's patience.
 
So he watches from a distance as the trap is sprung, not so near as the Prince's banner nor the booming commands of Denethor's White Tree.
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
Fencrist pushes his down helmet down, making sure it's snug on his head. Glancing left and right at the other members of his party near the gate, he grabs his horse's reins and uses the beast for cover during the retreat.
 
[Indoron(#30120)]   
Even as he turns to retreat to the banner of Amroth, his sword in one hand and his great infantry shield in the other, Fuinlos is pierced by a foul black dart of the Uruk-hai.
 
The soldier screams as it enters his torso at an angle, its ballistic arc giving it such force that the soldier is almost pushed to the ground. Falling onto his knees as blood froths from his mouth, Fuinlos waves weakly for Fencrist to go on without him.
 
Quickly, he loses all ability to remain upright, his heart probably pierced. Falling backwards, the arrow's shaft sticking up and out, the soldier of Gondor shivers and trembles and then relaxes into death.
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
At the command, Silmir moves back toward Lominzil. He stops as he sees the hail of arrows come down toward them. He moves back, shield raised to protect himself and Adargraw's back. He freezes as he sees Fuinlos die, unable to look away from the body for a moment.
 
[Redyak]
With a final wave to signal another volley, Redyak and his cohorts finally heed Adargraw's command and halt. With braggart flash their blades cut them free from their pilfered layers. Tall, fully armored, readying their shields, they turn back towards the men.
 
Men who lie between them and another force of bowmen west of the road. Fearsome and defiant they stand, joyfully listening to the rush of arrows falling upon their enemy from over their heads, and a second volley zipping at the horsed riders from across the field.
 
[Adargraw(#5440)]   
A twist of his arms sends the flat--rather than the edge of Adargraw's blade across the flanks of his horse, the courser already rearing amidgst the onrush, twists and charges into the fray, riderless. It is in the wake of the steed that Adargraw turns to rush, but the presence of the fisherman gives him a pause.
 
Seeing the rushing force interceding between the two, he reaches out to block Silmir's path, it is to the source of the arrows that he looks first, and the onrushing force that charges against the Squire and the Isilrim.
 
[Ssamori(#28156)]  
More black arrows are fitted to strings with quick dexterity, new targets are located, and at Redyak's signal, Ssamori gives a sharp nod and the bows twang once again first from the east and then from the west as another volley of black hail falls down upon the humans.
 
 
[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir breaks out of his stupor as the next volley comes, raising his shield to protect himself from the arrows. He raises his spear against the orcs, trying to cover Lord Nimothan's back as well as his own front. "They are uglier than I had read of," he comments to no one in particular.
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
Lominzil observes with steady gaze the column of nearly-human figures, and couches his spear, pointing at Redyak's onslaught.
 
"I have never seen these before," he says to Fencrist, his teeth bared and clenched. "Think, armsman, of onions."
 
[Indoron(#30120)]   
The line of the riders of Lamedon stretching east and west is called by its chief to form up on the road. Amid orcs and arrows, the riders begin their pass northward towards the village, swords at the ready if any of the orcs who've rushed the Hostmen get close. Ithilkhor is at their head, leading towards the banner of Amroth and then on to the captain and the page.
 
[Calardan(#30834)]   
The Hlorithain knight suddenly breaks off to the west, his horse crashing through the terrain.
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
Fencrist, with a slap from his blade, sends his horse galloping to safety away from the arrows. The man-at-arms glances at the squire. "I will pay better attention slicing these open than I did with the onions. You have my word."
 
[Redyak]  
As members of the Gondorian contingent work closer towards the archers west of the road, these soldiers know that they have followed their orders and prepare themselves to start their journey home to reap the rewards from their Master. A score of them show themselves fully upright, immediately taking to a run, seeking the cover of the north wall of the village and beyond that the familiarity of mountain rock to the east where the bulk of their compatriots yet wait.
 
"Meat-bags poked up pretty, bloody mess, and shame to lose so much flavor," Redyak taunts loudly as he trots with jagged broadsword lifted before him towards men before the gate. The dozen beasts about him fan outwards in formation angled back slightly at each of his sides.
 
 
[Adargraw(#5440)]   
"Along the wall," Adargraw points Silmir towards the wall, "And stay covered!"  
 
With that command, he turns back towards the orcs that rushed past him, raising blade high over his head, he waves it in a great circle, before pointing it towards the archers hidden west of the road. Even as he makes this signal, he presses forward, plunging headlong into the rush of orcs that exited the village.
 
[Ssamori(#28156)]  
Dark lips parting in a slow smirk, Ssamori bends down, snatching the ceremonial black blade out of the ground. Turning to one at her side, she hisses in a whisper of their foul, dark speech. "We have done our part. Signal the next phase."  
 
This one skitters away from the High Hag, his dark whisper setting in motion the eastern line who as a single entity begin to stealthily creep away and scatter, slowly and quietly under the cover of the mountain flora.
 
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
Silmir opens his mouth to protest, that he wishes to fight, but does as he is told. He ducks down with his shield raised, wall to his back.
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
"They shall not vanquish us," says Lominzil coldly. Spear hefted in one hand, and reins steadied in the other, the Squire stands in his stirrups and, winking, hurls the missile into the center of the well-shielded orcish ranks.
 
[Indoron(#30120)]   
The Lamedon riders are coming up now to the position of Lominzil and Fencrist at a gallop. At a signal, they slow and cut west out across the open terrain to join Calardan in sweeping the open land. The pits though cause them to tread lightly.
 
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
Out of the corner of his eye, Fencrist sees Lominzil's spear pass by. Gritting his teeth, he follows the spear's path, hoping to finish off something wounded.
 
 
[Calardan(#30834)]      
The Hlorithain knight rides hard into his flank of the western archers. There comes the sound of brief sparks of battle in his wake, but little more.
 
[Redyak]
The wings of Redyak's formation advance upon the divided forces of Gondor. Plonk and Drizluk, both starved for flesh denied them by their orders, draw nigh upon Adargraw and Silmir. Their captain seethes with twisted hostility towards the one who launched the spear. Funkzit and Snurkpub follow him, their line now splitting back to back in twin advances - one towards the wall, one southwards along the road.
 
West of the road, the archers continue trotting north - now more speedily as they are approached by riders. Their numbers dwindle one by one.
 
Now before Lominzil, Redyak tests the reflexes of his target - poking more than slashing, tempting more than seeking the kill. A good dinner always needs proper seasoning.
 
[Menelglir(#17324)]  
Near to Lominzil, Menelglir drives his horse into the attacking orcs, hacking and slashing with his blade, while his war horse bites, kicks and stomps.
You paged Adargraw with 'and shucks man.'.
 
[Adargraw(#5440)]   
The blade of the Nimothan is swift, and cuts in wide arcs as he passes in the same path his charger followed, he keeps slightly to the west side of the road, but advances steadily, his pace quickening as the captain of the orc-folk strikes true.
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
"Squire," Fencrist calls in distress as Redyak gets past him and assails Lominzil. Dodging a blade and knocking another away, the man-at-arms makes his way back to lend a sword!
 
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
Unmounted now, Lominzil presents both less of a target and less a defense against the experimental jabbing of the orc-leader. He raises a cloth-swathed arm in lieu of shield, and it is bitten - gashed by Redyak's blade.
 
A sharp cloud of breath is exhaled, and he pivots back half a step, drawing his blade.
 
[Indoron(#30120)]   
The Isilrim riders from Lamedon are clearing the pits as they near the village along its western flank. The riders slash at stragglers, their left anchored at the village wall as they wheel and attack.
 
[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir stays down for a while, watching the melee. A few orcs escape the path of the sword, free to go after the Captain's back. The fisherman straightens, tilting his helmet back so he can see better. He pauses for a moment, then throws the spear. It sinks into the orc's back, the creature screeching as it falls."Just like fishing."  
 
 Grinning, Silmir rushes to retrieve his weapon, keeping himself between Lord Nimothan's back and the other orc. "All due respect, my lord, but I think I am of better use here than against the wall."
 
[Redyak]  
Down falls Plonk, in two cloven parts by Adargraw's blade. As Drizluk turns to engage a passing rider he feels the death bite, a spear driven through his mail and past his ribs. He looks down at the point, spurting black blood across the snow.
 
Without familiarity in outnumbering an opponent, the widely traveled Funkzit and Snurkpub gather a moment to survey the field. As horsed riders cut down their archer brethren, they ponder whether to leave their captain to his task of two or to attempt to save larger numbers.
 
With a nick in his thigh by Fencrist's hand, and the first target stepping back, Redyak turns upon the former. He stabs forward at the man's middle, a light move that barely shifts his heavy boots on the frozen ground.
 
From inside the tortured town, voices awaken - shrieking desperately from the depths of the pit of their captivity, calling for help with weakened words, for they have heard the sounds of men. A glimmer of hope awakens in their pain.
 
 
[Indoron(#30120)]   
The rider of Lamedon on the far end of the line is riding along when suddenly a hidden orc who has straggled jumps up behind him on his horse. The Man turns and tries to fight, but the orc is tenacious and holds tight despite the horse rearing and bucking. With a yell, the orc pulls free a big black hunting knife and with a jerk of his other hand, he pulls the Man's head back and slides its serrated edge across the Man's throat, slicing it open clear through the windpipe, muscle and cartilage to the spinal column where the knife lodges. Blood gushes and spouts out of the man's neck, cut wide open as he tumbles out of the saddle, jerking the knife out of the orc's hand.
 
The orc slides off the back of the horse and tries to run, but the Man's comrades are on the beast instantly, stabbing it to death, the dark blood of the creature staining their swords with filth.
 
"Alas," cries one of the riders as he kneels beside his dead captain. "They killed Ithilkhor, those bastards!"
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
A light move for Redyak, a heavy blow felt by Fencrist as he tries pull away from the stab. Leather gives way and the blade's tip draws blood! And then, over the din of battle, voices! "Plague-carriers, I knew it!"
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
The sudden cold breathes over Lominzil's sword: he pivots once more and points it towards the one named Snurkpub. As he drives the steel upwards, seeking kidney and ribcage, red blood spatters on the snow.
 
"Silver Knight," the Squire says breathlessly, his back exposed a moment as he stills to listen, "men of Gondor lie in need. Your feet are the swiftest."
 
[Adargraw(#5440)]   
The Captain does not immediately respond, instead pressing onwards, "To me then," he throws over his shoulder, raising his blade once more and letting it fall, moving in yet another step nearer to the melee between orc-captain and Gondorian footmen. He is blooded, a gash in his tabard across the ribs, and another upon his left shoulder.
 
[Menelglir(#17324)]  
Menelglir, whose white cloak is inconveniently now splashed red, has already turned his horse toward the town at the sound of the cries. "Indeed," he manages quickly to Lominzil. And though there is a hesitation before he gives the cry--for he has seen the orc's blade work--he yet stands in the saddle, brandishing his sword. "The town! the town!" he cries, then sends his horse thundering that way.
 
[Silmir(#24455)] "Yes sir." Silmir continues through the mess of orc bodies, protecting the captain's back with the spear and shield. He raises his head to listen for the din of voices. "Plague carriers or captives, does it matter?!" He takes out another orc with a hard stab to the face, placing a foot to the creature's chest to dislodge the spear.
 
[Redyak]  
Tilting his head and sneering in a mess of spittle, Snurkpub attempts words of hate to curse his deathmaker - but finds that none can burst forth amidst the onslaught of his blood exploding from his bowel and out his mouth. His sword falls. He grabs Lominzil's blade, sliding slowly down, yellow eyes dimming into his end.
 
Inside the Village, in the horrid pit, the desperate men and women cling pathetically up the cold dirt wall, falling in a comedy of shadows cast by the fires their captors lit to preserve their lives from the cold. Cruelest of horrors have they unleashed, to doom these innocents to a lifetime of nightmares. A pair of strapping youth form a tower, one climbing on the others shoulders. The one on top pushes without success at the cover over the hole. They are trapped until aid comes to them.
 
"Let the archers flee, our work grows, Funkzit," Redyak calls quickly, pointing at Fencrist, wasting no more time before striking anew at Lominzil, a low sweep catching upwards.
 
[Silmir(#24455)] A shield smashes against Silmir's face, sending him to one knee for a moment. He stabs upward with his spear, the orc coughing black blood down onto the fisherman's face. He pauses to wipe it from going into his eyes before continuing on toward Lominzil and Fencrist.
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
And Funkzit pounces on the distracted hostman, slashing across Fencrist's arm. Fencrist cries out and dodges stab. Facing the orc, he hacks, feints a stab and then hacks again, trying to get the filthy thing off balance and failing! "Damn you!"
 
 
[Menelglir(#17324)]  
Menelglir is first to arrive in the village, though he is followed by a few of the men who have heeded his call. They quickly locate the source of the cries from the village--and sending the men to find stout branches, together they work to lever up the grates that cover the pit.
 
[Adargraw(#5440)]   
And Captain arrives at Captain, his left hand shifts from blade to hilt, Adargraw's greatsword is raised, and then lowered in a hard, looping swing towards the legs of the battling orc-man, calling out as he swings, "For the White Tree!"
 
[Indoron(#30120)]   
The nine remaining Isilrim riders come back south along the edge of the wall. The tenth horse bears its rider, who is wrapped in his cloak with a blanket over his head. Several of them break off and ride ahead to the gate to enter and assist in aiding those who are calling from the pit.
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
Gelatinous and dark as shadow, Snurkpub's veins give up their treasure, and Lominzil's gloved hands are slick with it. His sword is burdened with the skewer, and he spins to respond to the whistle of Shavyak's broadsword - but still it scores its due, penetrating the fine, close shirt of rings.
 
The Girithlin's laugh: clear, bright, underlaid with the chilling madness of the fight.
 
"Not enough!" he snaps, whirling free of the corpse with one motion and seeking, with horizontal transection, to create another.
 
[Menelglir(#17324)]  
"Tend to them as best you are able," Menelglir says, as they pull the villagers--hungry, filthy, weak, some missing limbs--out of the pit. He leaves two of the men behind, then remounts his horse and hurries back into the fight.
 
[Redyak]
Intersecting Silmir, one of the handful of remaining Fighting-Uruk-Hai swings at the fisherman. Gobdup's anger is rich and overflowing - like all the others their hunger for man-flesh has become insatiable as they have fought their urges in respect of their orders to leave terror, not death. Soldiers, however, have been fair game throughout. He's not sure which Silmir is, but he cares not as he strikes towards him with his broadsword.
 
With a series of laughs, Funkzit dodges left, right, and left again. At each move Fencrist's sword gets closer, the last strike knocking him solidly in the gut. He spins back, dazed for a moment before lifting his sword to offer new assault.
 
Inside the village the desperate calls melt into sobs of relief and fear wrapped into one. Slowly the throngs work their way out, assisting each other as best they can. Those without legs are pushed up to the outreached hands of their saviors. The stench of their captivity is putrid and overwhelming.
 
Howling with dismay as another strike seeks his flesh, the blade grazing down his side, Redyak looks upon the fearsome form of Adargraw. Lifting his shield to face this giant, he narrowly escapes Lominzil's blade - and staggers to his right from the force upon the wood. His initial challenge to the unarmored man comes without great strength.
 
 
[Adargraw(#5440)]   
The Nimothan Captain's blade swung short of the Orc-Captain's leg, and similarly, the lashing out of the short broad blade of his opponent falls short. Adargraw, however, strides forward with his right foot, and raises the blade upwards sharply and violently, towards the orc's sword-arm.
 
[Adargraw(#5440)]   
With that strike, Adargraw twists away, another foe's blade touching his elbow, he pushes onward into the last vestiges of the fray.
 
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
Lominzil resumes his one-armed grip, coming close once again to the Captain of the Fighting Uruk-Hai (though such a title, surely, is unknown to the man). With a hiss, he swings down at the shoulder.
 
[Silmir(#24455)]
As Gobdup swings at him, Silmir ducks back away from the onslaught, smacking with his shield. Once more, he raises his spear. "Are all of you this ugly?" he asks it before stabbing, hard and quick, at his gut.
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
Fencrist's assault scores a hit. But not a mortal one. Cursing, the man-at-arms catches his breath and waits for Funkzit's counter. The beast seams as fresh as when the duel began and Fencrist can only manage to slap away stabs and slashes. And then, luck intercedes when Fencrist trips on a dead orc and stumbles. Funkzit swings at empty air and is caught off balance. Heartened with a battle cry of "victory or death", the footman attacks one more time, giving all he has left.
 
[Redyak]  
All that Fencrist has left is plenty. Amdist his stumbling fall over the corpse, the steel catches him across the gap between hauberk and helm - lodging in his throat. He twitches as his slide along forces the metal deeper into his spine, rendering him a limp pile of filth.
 
Silmir tallies another, missing and hitting in the same strike. His spear tip plunges true through Gobdup's heart, sheer through the other side to nip at Redyak with no damage. The Captain spins from the touch, and into Adargraw's blade. The bite is mighty, deep into his shoulder; with ribs cracked and lung cloven, his fury rises with the adrenaline fueled might of his accursed bastard race. The forsaken children of the greatest sin in Arda, ever seeking redemption and their place - slaves of cruel masters throughout eternity, Redyak stands surrounded by fate.
 
Nipped once more by Lominzil's strike to his leg, he is now unbalanced on both sides. The resulting pain blurs his eyes for an instant. He howls with madness and hate, reinvigorated in accepting his pain, and lashes the jagged edge of his broadsword at the man's face.
 
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
Here, Lominzil is ready for the accursed Captain: tossing his head back, he charges forward with renewed purpose, seeking to slice at Redyak's knees and force him back.
 
And perhaps the Squire's gaze has noted some misformed earth - some telltale contusion of the ground, yawning behind...
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
Silmir pulls the spear the rest of the way through the body to go after the captain himself. As Lominzil looks to force the foul thing back, he slashes with the spear.
 
[Rukhet(#24527)]  
Rukhet is, as usual, hard to see. Also as usual, she's avoided closing with the enemy. As a lighly armored scout, she wants no part of hand-to-hand fighting with stronger, more heavily armored opponents.
 
She prowls the periphery of the battlefield from the slopes, looking for targets she dares to shoot at. Some are out of range. Others she cannot engage: they're fighting with her fellows.
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
Fencrist pulls his sword free and then stabs into blood soaked ground. Using the strong blade for support, the hostman sinks to his knees, exhausted. Funkzit's slashes are not bad. But Redyak's stab bleeds, sapping the little energy Fencrist has left. "I wonder if Fuinlos is okay."
 
[Redyak]
Some of the daring journeys of these over-sized orcs have ended in routs. Some have ended with little to no losses. With the twenty archers laying dead where they ran west of the road in attempt to flee north of the village, and now Redyak the last of the dozen that forced hand to hand onslaught, this mission's results sit in the middle of their successes.
 
The squire's vision proves keen. As Redyak begins to backpedal with hopes of squaring his opponents all before him, he too stumbles. Wobbling left away from one of the holes they made in preperation for cavalry, he narrowly escapes another bite from Lominzil's sword. As he teeters back to his left and behind the hole, the reach of the fisherman's spear is long - but not long enough to catch him again. A trail of blood dribbles past his leg, marking each step. He gathers his balance, and points to the solid ground, saying, "No trickses here, pretty pretties." He hefts his shield with struggle from the deep wound at his shoulder. His sword balances yet dangerously before him.
 
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
"How long did it take to dig?" asks Lominzil civilly, though, spattered with red and black, he appears far from lovely. "Weeks? Months in preparation?"
 
He reinforces query with a jab.
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
"We should just shove you in your own hole and leave you to rot," Silmir offers, his own face dripping with black blood and a little red from a bloody nose. He stabs again, hoping to skewer.
 
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
Fencrist, having caught his breath, stands and pulls his sword out of the ground. The field looks clear, except for the captain of orcs with Lominzil and Silmir close at hand. Clutching an arm over his chest wound, the man-at-arms joins his fellows, keeping a safe distance away and longsword held ready in case Redyak gets twitchy.
 
"Well done, boys. Well done. Maybe we should keep this one alive. Let the plaguers have a chance at him?"
 
[Redyak]  
"Fancy talkins," Redyak manages a gurgling response. One of his lungs is slowly filling with blood, some of which chokes him at intervals. It sprays with his daring words, and what wisdom he can manage tells him to save his breath - and to continue working his way backwards, defensively.
 
If he is to survive he must get away, balancing his protection with assault. He has no intentions of being the captive of Fencrist's suggestion, not with dreams of farming potatoes in these rich lands and making stews of spring rabbit fearless under the sun as his kin does high in the hidden mountaintops of the Hithaeglir. His soul truly lingers strong, though his wounds mount. From the depths of the hopes of these flashing visions he lunges at the nearest target, feet planting one before the other on the solid safe ground away from the spiked pits.
 
 
[Rukhet(#24527)]  
 
They're losing. Again. How surprising.
 
Rukhet's red cat-lensed eyes scan the field. With more of their own fallen, it's now easier to find humans alone to shoot.
 
There's something coldly casual about her, a hardness instead of her younger self's excitement and fear. She nocks an arrow, prepared to launch at the enemy --  
 
Oh. They're not alone. There's an orc she particularly hates fighting a lone Gondorian at the village's outskirts.
 
And she raises her bow.
 
She hesitates.
 
She's disciplined the scouts of Silent Night *not* to do what she's about to do -- use the fog of war to eliminate their personal domestic enemies instead of tribal foreign ones.
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
"Nay," says Lominzil. Frost-gazed, he places step after step in the shadow of the beleaguered Captain. "He shall have mercy."
 
Hefting longsword at the hilt, he strikes forward.
 
[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir had started moving forward to attack again, spurred by his first hit. The flailing sword catches him off guard and strikes down across his face to lodge in his left shoulder. The fisherman falls back for a moment, then drives forward again, adrenaline now fueling him. "Mercy it is."
 
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
"Just like a cornered animal, you! So be it." Fencrist takes longsword in both hands. With the captain of orcs distracted, the hostman raises his blade for a killing blow.
 
[Redyak]  
One stroke forward, three dodges back. Tempt their anger, curse their attempts. Redyak's breathing grows more ragged, his rage cooling in acceptance of fate - whichever it may be. "Patience," he thinks inward, sidestepping another divot of ill intent. He nips at last at Fencrist, who has presented himself now closest.
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
As the foul creature hits Fencrist again, Silmir presses forward again. He can't raise his shield any longer, but the spear is still of use. "You will not see the dawn again. Ugliest fish I ever gutted." He stabs again, aiming for the head, throwing much of his weight behind the blow.
 
[Rukhet(#24527)]  
 
*And I'm going to go home to the mountain shrine and offer *this* spilled blood to the Earth Queen, am I?*
 
Rukhet's fingers twitch as she lets fly. The arrow flies wide of all targets, and kicks up a tiny puff of dust as it buries itself on the slope.
 
She watches it. Her hands clench. One wraps tight-knuckled around her bow's grip. The claws of the other dig into her palm.
 
*What am I becoming?*
 
This isn't the warrior's way her father taught. Her older brother taught.
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
It is, perhaps, a game of endurance and patience. From behind, Lominzil draws a deep breath, dark lashes flickering once, twice, shut.
 
Two hands grasp the longsword, frosted over from the cold, the caked gore congealed like obsidian. They guide the long blade: forward, across.
 
[Redyak]  
Backwards and onwards the battle continues, three chasing, one Uruk-Hai of the White Wolf Kingdom still defiant before these champions of the South - sons of kings of men. Victims that would please Redyak and his kind more than they can possibly know - for they are uneducated in any way but conquest. His education stands strong before them, and his will stronger - for his pulse is slowing. "Yes, just a couple more hits and they will fade," he thinks in a flash, flashing his steel towards the most recent assailant again.
 
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
Silmir growls as his attack does nothing against Redyak. "Slippery fellow..." He attacks again as Lominzil is hit now, going for a slash across the Uruk-Hai's chest to go with the one Lord Nimothan had given earlier, throwing himself into the attack once again.
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
Redyak's blade claaves through armor and slashes along Fencrist's ribs. The hostman automatically pulls away from the blade's bite and watches as the captain of orcs wounds both Silmir and Lominzil. And it dawns on Fencrist that Redyak might still win the day and kill them all before escaping! Hefting his sword again, the man-at-arms heads back in, to kill this beast or die trying. This time, a two-handed slash at Redyak!
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
Exchanging blows once again, Lominzil now cradles the limb across his chest, pressing upon the steady flow.
 
Still - a foot tilts on the edge of a pit, suddenly looming to the side - the Swansman presses forward doggedly, lunging, stumbling with the swordpoint.
 
[Redyak]
Momentum presses upon the Uruk of the mountains, the caves, the rock; the sword flows through him in his mounting desperation. He will not show it. These takers, these slaves to be will not have him easy. He mapped these holes, this was his escape plan.
 
He thinks, "Maybe Rukhet is talking of that Earth Queen." He remembers the landslides and avalanches that Tuyak told him would come.
 
He stabs forward once more, caring not. One must go - then a next.
 
[Rukhet(#24527)]  
Rukhet decides to decamp from the mountainside and retreat. But as she turns, she sees one of Shavyak's numerous cousins giving a very good account of himself.
 
Alone.
 
She has no particular obligation to Redyak. But her one dependent is safely back home with the Isengard herd.
 
And she makes up her mind, and climbs down.
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
Silmir raises his spear to attack again, pausing a moment to get out of the way of the swing. "Getting a bit sloppy, are you." He bears down again, spitting a little of his blood that had made its way down his face to his lips.
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
Fencrist's slash is a miss. And the orc's counter ends with the same fate. Watching Lominzil and Silmir's attacks come to nothing, the footman goes in again, undeterred by Redyak's resiliance. "Just hold still. Make it easy on yourself! And me."
 
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
Once more from behind, Lominzil strikes, his limbs flagging, his lips pale.
 
And yet his attention twitches away to the side for a beat: perhaps something, someone, comes this way.
 
[Rukhet(#24527)]  
 
Rukhet would like to shoot, of course. But she doesn't want to risk hitting Redyak.
 
So she employs all her stealth to sneak within fifty yards, and snatch up a promisingly-shaped leaf of stone.
 
And she sends it spinning, discus-like, at the back of Silmir's helmet.
 
Maybe it'll hurt. Maybe it'll just distract him.
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
Silmir stumbles as the rock hits his helmet, looking around to see what had hit him. He looks over at Rukhet, struggling to raise his shield again, in case she decides to get closer and hit him with something else. He attacks Redyak again, hoping that it'll do more than their last ones did.
 
[Redyak]  
In crush the broken ribs through the force of Fencrist's sword to his shield. Knicking his neck the tip of Silmir's new fishing hook. Across his arm the pain pressing from both sides. He cannot push them back, he can push himself back. He sets his feet.
 
The Raven is flying down upon him. The Raven is testing him with his claws. His blood flows out from him as the dreaming end hovers near. He strikes for a victim to bring him home in glory.
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
It is the first time Lominzil has beheld one of the children of dark: tilting his chin in defiance, he faces Redyak in full.
 
A curious, brotherly gesture does he extend to the Uruk-Hai, reaching an arm towards Redyak's shoulder in embrace.
 
And the other arm, bearing blade still, falls forward as well.
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
Silmir as well bears down on the Uruk, wishing the battle to be over before the other one gets any closer.
 
[Rukhet(#24527)]  
Rukhet's been closing with the combatants. Now she winces as she watches the stroke. This one connects. And she wonders if she ought to lunge forward, ought to try to give Redyak a chance to escape, or if he's past help and she ought to take the wiser course and run.
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
As Lominzil and Silmir get in close for mortal blows in turn, Fencrist joins them, hopefully to put down Redyak for good! Rukhet catches the hostman's attention out of the corner of his eye and he looks directly at her while delivering his stab.
 
[Redyak]  
The claws are sharp, two talons biting him. Its call is harsh, like forgotten mother's words of wisdowm the few days she had the chance. Before the taking. It is familiar. It is old. Steel as veins from the mountain, sword as blood of iron and fire, he swings for his valor. He swings for the night. The dawn. The day.
 
[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir falls back as the blade catches him in the side, piercing his armor. He holds a hand to the wound and moves to stand again, undaunted by his own blood loss or pain. "It would seem it still has some fight in it..." He leans on the spear a moment before he attacks again, also keeping an eye on Rukhet out of the corner of his eye.
 
 
[Rukhet(#24527)]  
 
And she decides then -- or the rush of blood in battle decides for her, as she darts forward and suddenly lunges, thrusting at a human's ribs.
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
The Swan has no talons, yet it marches and flies all the same.
 
Like the bitter crack of splitting ice, so is the swordpoint of Lominzil as it seeks to sunder bone and vein, flesh and heart.
 
"Back," he utters, near to exhaustion, "to the earth that bore you."
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
Good that he is watching from the corner of his eye, as Rukhet finally moves forward. He puts his shield up in time to block the blow. "Another catch. Good." He moves forward, thrusting for her gut and up, hoping to impale her.
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
Fencrist pushes off the bloody earth and looks down at his soaked armor, more of it his than theirs. The sword now heavy in both hands, he steps towards the captain of orcs. For another blow.
 
[Rukhet(#24527)]  
 
Rukhet's blade collides with Silmir's shield. She catches his spear-point instead -- along *her* ribs. She feels a blow as it pieces the leather at the side. But in the fury of battle, she doesn't notice immediate pain.
 
Later, she'll feel her skin first wet, and then sticky. Later, if she lives, she'll discover the blood.
 
But not now. She slips sideways and attempts to slide under the human's guard, with another thrust.
 
[Redyak]
The sun shines hot in his darkening eyes, these eternally long instances striking him, battling his vision. The mission. Complete, and so many will return to the Master. The Earth Queen holds them through these mountains.
 
The Raven lifts him with harsh precision, claws in his back; but the pain through his sword-split chest finally lifts. He finds the rhythm of what the master said, "There is no end but victory. Master that, Soldier."
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
Silmir presses forward again, hitting the sword aside with his spear. He stumbles a moment with his blood loss, but continues.
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
"Enough," says Lominzil, swinging close with sudden, biting ire. "Gondor has suffered enough for your wiles."
 
 
Lominzil furiously attacks you with his Longsword!...
...and he hits! Ouch!
 
ARB: You've been injured for 11 hp's by Lominzil's attack...
...you have 3 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.
 
[Rukhet(#24527)]  
Rukhet misses the thrust again: the human has the advantange of reach. But she manage to turn aside *his* stroke, barely. The muscles of her arm flex under the strain, and her blade angles backward in her grip. But she holds, and grins fiercely at him, baring polished fangs.
 
She steps around and attempts to slash from the side.
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
Once more the shield saves him from further injury. "You should have run when you had the chance." Silmir jumps forward, slicing.
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
Fencrist sighs in relief at the sight of Lominzil finishing blow. Standing over the fallen orc, the man-at-arms prods Redyak with the tip of his blade. "It's done," he says profoundly.
 
[Redyak]  
Clutching the blade to him, listening to the dark secrets flooding the remnants of his composure as he lays flat to the dirt, Redyak finds the broken bit of his life. He grips Fencrist in a whip of his hand to the man's throat, spitting the end of his time in the man's face, stinking in the gore of his innards, "Gonna plant me where we'll grow our children. Your time comes, human."
 
[Rukhet(#24527)]  
This stroke doesn't pierce Rukhet's armor, but it bruises below.
 
"I know," she answers, in rather better Westron than one might expect. "This was very brave and very stupid."
 
She's light on her feet, and dances round again, seeking an opening ...
 
There's some kind of a strangled gasp off to her right.
 
She feints low, then slashes at Silmir's face.
 
 
[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir ducks down to block, not expecting the feint. Another slice to his face, crossing along his cheek down to the jaw, intersecting with the other in a gruesome X. He pauses, pressing the back of his hand to his cheek. "Your friend is dying. You'll be joining him." He jabs once again, hard and quick.
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
"Then we shall be waiting," replies Lominzil with ghostly smile, and slips the blade in transecting arc.
 
 
Lominzil furiously attacks you with his Longsword!...
...and he hits! Ouch!
Darn! You've been knocked to 0 HP by Lominzil's attack!
 
[Fencrist(#12253)]   
Redyak's final blow hits Fencrist's wounded ribs. The pain is intense. The hostman breaks free from the orc's grip too fast and he falls to the ground hard. Wounded and exhausted, he tries to get back up, but collapses into unconciousness.
 
[Redyak]
Flooded at last, washed away in the river of Raven warm sky and solid rivers and stone flowing earth, Redyak feels peace in his slashed and scattered remnants of presence. He lays aside the deepest trenches of the field. They had expected more, and got less. They have won better, but never achieved more. He is gone. Spent and gray. Blood of four. There is peace in perceiving that victory.
 
[Rukhet(#24527)]  
 
Rukhet hisses as the spear catches her in the shoulder. She feels the shock of impact rather than the prick of the point.
 
There's a metallic clatter and a thud off to her right.
 
And she knows.
 
"Maybe. And maybe I'll sing in hall in honor of the dead."
 
She skips backward, springing on the balls of her feet, eyes flicking from side to side. -- He's down. And that's a *lot* of orc blood, pooling on the weedy slope.
 
She backs up the slope, then turns to show flying heels.
 
[Lominzil(#31527)]   
"Disengage, Fisher," calls Lominzil, stooping to bear Fencrist on his shoulders.
 
"The enemy has flown, yet more lies unknown."
 
He treads as far as the perimeter of the village, then also falls.
 
[Silmir(#24455)]  
Silmir stumbles back as she flees, looking over to see Fencrist fallen. Now that the adrenaline of battle is wearing down, he feels the pain of his wounds and their losses. His stomach gives a heave and empties his lunch into one of the pits. He looks up and sees Lominzil fall as well. He runs over to the hostmen and kneels, weight resting heavily on his spear. He can't carry them out, not with his own blood wetting the armor as it is, but he can stand watch and make sure they do not come to further harm while unconcious.
 
[Redyak]
A percussive rumble, far too organized for weather cascades down the hill side. It is dark, mourning. It courses its way across the mountains westward, north, and into silence. Thirty have fallen. One hundred twenty creep away. Three hundred humans forever bear horror.

Date added: 2014-01-29 02:25:53    Hits: 59
Powered by Sigsiu.NET RSS Feeds