Ambush by Rauros Falls, Part Two
Grishnakh stands patiently in the rain near the outcropping rocks of the stones, awaiting a report.
Arachias waits within the long reeds of grass, the rain pouring down upon his head and sliding off of his helmet as he listens to the faint sounds of the night...
Grihsh comes up the path from the south into the roar of the falls.
Grihsh has arrived.
Grishnakh glances southward with a hard stare as a scout comes trotting into view through the rain and mist.
Arachias fiery eyes spot the approaching figure of Grihsh as he slides out the darkness. His pupils widen in anticipation as he raises his blade in the ready. His ears prick upward for the order to move out and then he falls silent. His breathing slows as if to hear over the rain and his senses close around the thought of battle as the cold chill pricks his flesh.
Troglaaz turns his head to glance southwards and east, his left fingers picking impatiently at the steel-links covering his armored chest. As the returning Uruk sentry enters into view through the heavy downpour, he rises eagerly to his feet, striding hurriedly towards him. The six Pulgorburzob orcs gathered nearby follow, remaining several feet behind their Teguk as they move approach the scout.
Grihsh moves stealthily into the area, moving swiftly towards Troglaaz, saluting hurridly as he stops by his leader. "Teguk Pulgorburzob, humans to the south! Medium calvary stalk path!" He points southward, and readies his scimitar. He blinks twice, waiting for orders.
Troglaaz nods quickly in response, his eyes lifting to look southwards across the flat, rain-soaked lands. "Tell the vorazg." He barks to the scout, before jogging to the rest of the Dushgob orcs and ordering them to prepare.
Grishnakh watches the exchange, but the words are lost in the constant roar of the mighty falls nearby. Seeing Troglaaz move off in a hurry, though, he steps forward to meet the reporting scout, and cranes his head close to hear his words.
Grihsh moves swiftly towards Grishnakh, trotting as quickly as he dares. He salutes instantly and breifly, "Vorazg, Human Medium Calvalry to the south." He looks up with half-awe towards Grish, and takes half a step back, nervously glancing in the direction he came from.
DuRoch grips his shield in anticipation.
Grishnakh nods briefly and leans closer to Grihsh. "How many, snaga? How many?"
Grihsh sratches his thick skull, and then blurts out. "Six. On Horses."
Grishnakh listens, then a broad, cruel smile splits his ugly black features. "Very good!" he calls to Grihsh over the roar of the falls. Looking toward Troglaaz, he signals with his sword: move around eastward, for the flank. Then looking toward DuRoch he signals again, this time for the orc to come with the Vorazg himself.
Grihsh smiles broadly for a brief moment at the praise of Grish, and follows eastward, his scimitar gleaming in the moonslight. He moves through the mist quickly, side-stepping around the larger mudholes.
The Dushgob orcs under Troglaaz's command hurriedly scramble to their feet, grasping at their weapons and adjusting their armor as they prepare to move once more. The six badge-marked Pulgorburzob orcs gather behind Troglaaz as he turns to watch the Vorazg, their hands placed uneasily on the hilts of their weapons. Troglaaz raises his own blade in acknowledgement before motioning eastwards, the orcs behind him trotting eagerly along the wet, muddy ground.
DuRoch notes Troglaaz's signal and moves to the Teguks side.
As the Orcs pass, a rock stands and follows, walking a good distance behind on it's long legs.
Arachias raises from the reeds of the grass, and merges with the growing company. His eyes glitter in the dark eve and as the rain pours down a wicked smile creeps across his grotesque face. In a grunt and growl of happyness he raises his blade and begins the march to battle.
Grihsh heads south, down and away from the hills.
Grihsh has left.
Troglaaz heads south, down and away from the hills.
Troglaaz has left.
Arachias heads south, down and away from the hills.
Arachias has left.
Grishnakh turns to DuRoch and the orcs of Dol Guldur. He leans close to DuRoch and shouts over the noise: "We'll follow in a bit, after they have time to get into position. Are your troops ready?"
The Uruks in DuROch's company jostle each other in anticipation. DuRoch slaps several heads together and the comotionceases.
Grishnakh says, "All right, that's long enough. Let's move."
Grishnakh sets off, jogging southward and keeping low, sloshing through the rain. His head moves constantly as he bobs along, staring into the night in each direction.
You head south, down and away from the falls.
West Bank of the Anduin, Below Rauros Falls
Near to the north, the roar of Rauros Falls can be heard. In the circle of Gimles's lantern, you can make out part of the area on this cool, misty autumn late night. A path heads north towards Rauros, another heads off west into Rohan, and a beaten area leads down to the river, apparently a ford or landing area.
The night sky still dumps copious amounts of rain down onto you. The moon is above the horizon and in its waxing crescent phase.
Contents:
Arachias
Troglaaz
Grihsh
Hasumund
Gimles
Morgan
Edoraw
Obvious exits:
North, Fords of the Anduin, and West
DuRoch comes along from the direction of the falls.
DuRoch has arrived.
Gurgarath comes along from the direction of the falls.
Gurgarath has arrived.
Grishnakh jogs along in darkness through the downpouring rain and the ever-present mist, the noise of his approach and that of the platoon of orcs behind him lost in the din of falling rain.
Troglaaz waves his scimitar before him towards the nine horsemen, his square jaw clenching determinedly inside his heavy helmet. Glancing over his shoulder towards the Uruks behind him, he whispers harshly, "Hurry along!" His body drops to a low crouch as he moves through the heavy rain towards the horsemen's western flank, occasionally leaning his left hand on the ground for support.
Grihsh moves low through the ferns, closing the distance. He holds his scimitar low to the ground, using it for balance and to slice away any vegetave obstructions.
Arachias nods his heavy head and drops low into the foliage of the plans and river. The long reeds of grass skim by his flesh their sharp edges on tickling his rough skin. His eyes seem to glow in the turrent of water and as he draws ever closer to the riders it adds little help to washing away the large amounts of drool and snot which flow forth from his foul mouth and steaming nostrils.
DuRoch follows Grisnahakh as he leads his own troops behind him.
Gimles rides along with the column his head slumped forward a bit, a feeble attempt at trying to keep the rain out of his eyes. Gimles's shoulders sway slightly as the horse moves along only a span or so behind the next rider..
Hasumund's horse seems to have little liking for the sounds of the waterfall to the north, for it grows restless, nikering softly and shaking it's head about. The rider keeps the animal going on it's path though, too good a horseman to do otherwise.
behind the advancing ranks of Orkish troops, a huge black mass stands quietly, shrouded in the rain and darkness. A casual glance would mark it indestinguishable from a tree, or a large formation of rock, but it is in actuallity one of the Olog-hai.
Grishnakh pauses and crouches low to the ground as his sharp eyes spot the shapes of riders ahead in the rain and darkness. Signaling with silent gestures he brings the orcs with him up close, also low to the ground to observe for a moment.
Troglaaz slows his pace to a crawl as he nears the formation of horsemen from the west, his blade held low above the ground as he moves forward through the tall grasses. Motioning to his right with his arm, he pauses and waits for the orcs behind him to catch up.
DuRoch stops, his beath a fetid mist in the rain. He looks to his general for orders.
Arachias reaches the hai and stops as he does. His eyes glitter in the falling rain and the dark eve and as he stops he seems to little care about the flowing water and its cold touch. His senses look to be focused on the smell of hooman as drool and slobber flows from his lips and crusts his tusks, turning them a yellow color. A wicked grin comes about his face as he waits silently in the rain as hunger growls deep from his gut.
Hasumund pats the axe dangling from a loop on his saddle absently, then, as if on second thought, draws it. A Rohirrim with an axe... not your everyday sight. As the patrol goes along, closer to the orcs with every step, he mutters in an inaudible voice "
Hasumund wields Battle Axe.
Graegast, bearing Gramfyst saunters in from the west.
Graegast, bearing Gramfyst has arrived.
Grishnakh watches the riders amid the steady thumping noise of fat raindrops landing heavily atop his helmet of black steel. He remains still, only a low black shadow amid the darkness, and issues no orders yet to the orcs nearest him.
Raktura has arrived.
Vishkaat has arrived.
Gramfyst spurs his mount forward to rejoin his Patrol, clucking softly to his horse as it side-steps a thorn bush. He puts two fingers to his lips and blows a soft whistle, sounding exactly as the coo of a mourning dove. Immediately two Riders respond in kind, letting Gramfyst know where they are in the darkness ahead.
Raktura splashes quietly as possible over the ford in the river in attempts to sneak into the area. With cautious steps, and careful movements in hopes of not drawing attention to herself and her companion this she-orc attempts to slip behind some foiage to gain a perspective on the situation and what is happing.
Grishnakh is a low black hump in the rain-soaked grass, lost in the darkness and quite still, with a gang of some thirty other orcs behind him. They watch the slow progress of a patrol of Riders of Rohan, no more than a dozen.
Vishkaat moves through the water, sending ripples of water out before his fur covered leggings. The orc is several spans to the side and behind Raktura, and only his deep red eyes can be seen, almost seeming to drift disembodied over the river. A slight jingle and creak of hard leather is the only sound he makes, though that should be enough for any trained ear....
Troglaaz watches from the ground as the horsemen approach, remaining absolutely motionless and hoping the heavy rain, darkness and tall grass is enough to conceal him from searching human eyes. As the column of Rohirrim are half-way past his waiting orcs, the Uruk-hai springs forward, his blackened scimitar rising over his head. Gruff orcish voices rise in the air as the Mordain rush forward, their blades flashing towards the mounted humans.
Gramfyst shouts, "To arms! To arms!" He swings his mount to face the nearest attacker, pulling his sword from its sheath.
Gramfyst wields Gramfyst's Longsword.
DuRoch slides his blade from his sheathe. All of this warriors do the same at his example.
Grishnakh smiles tightly in the darkness as he hears the first guttural war-cry of the uruk assault not far to the west. A slight movement of his gauntleted fist is the only sign he yet gives to the orcs with him, the sign to be ready but to not yet attack.
At the first sounds of the foul voices of the foe, even before Gramfyst's cry, Hasumund wheels his horse around to face them, raising the axe high - ready to bring down and cleave a skull in twain. Holding his mount steady with the pressure of his knees, the man waits for the oncoming charge...
Arachias lets out a loud howl in the cold night, his voice carrying high with the others as his foul mouth falls open to reveal a patchwork of spit and foam. His tusks seem to aime towards his opponent and as he runs his eyes glint brightly in the falling rain and wanning moon. His scimitar is moved into an arach to his right and its blade shimmers brightly, warning those who face its tip. A dark growl comes from his ribbed throat and with every step mud flings backwards into the dim night, only to disappear among the grass again.
Metal rasps as DuROch's company sees the Generals raised hand. Some start forawrd slightyl but are stopped abruptly by the glare of their Tek Rak.
Arachias attacks Gimles with his Scimitar and moderately wounds him!
The cry of battle seems to stir the blood in this she she-orcs viens, she struggles against the burning desire to join into the frey. The red globes of her eyes peering intently through the shrub hiding her form from view, she watches and takes mental notes of the strengths and powers of each individual involved. Her weight shifts uneasily as the tension in the air thickens, her hand subconciously gets drawn to her sword where she grips it as if it were a comfort to her.
Shouts from the Rohir patrol and the snorts of startled horses add to the din of the attacking foes. Gramfyst calls into the night, "To me! To me! Do not become seperated!" He is distracted for a moment as he peers into the darkness for his companions, and the figure of an approaching Uruk escapes his notice."
Gimles hears the cries and wheels his horse about to charge Arachias. He is surprised to feel the cold bite of steel as the scimitar cuts into his leg. His horse bucks from the impact adn the rider is thrown from the saddle. He falls to the ground and jabs his spear forward at the orc.
Gimles attacks Arachias with his Spear and mildly wounds him!
One of the orcs, it's scimitar glistening with beads of rainwater, charges at Hasumund. The rider wheels his horse as though to flee - then swings the axe in an arc behind him, narrowly missing the uruk's helmeted head as it frantically ducks. Spurring his animal forward out of range of Mordain steel, Hasumund turns again, facing the beast once more, axe held along the horse's flank.
Vishkaat steps up beside Raktura, his back hunched to stay in the cover. He champs his teeth and clenches and unclenches his left claw. His right rests on the head of his axe, one finger rubbing lightly along the keen edge as he peers with fiery eyes at the ensuing battle..
Arachias growls as the spear lashes out and cuts the flesh of arm, letting a stream of black blood bubble down its side. He glances for a moment at the wound and then howls loudly again, his mouth dropping to point its tusks at Gimles and spray him with its foul odor and putrid foam. Then in a sudden dash he runs forward again at his opponent, his eyes glaring brightly as he slashes for the shoulder, the blade of his weapon shinning brightly in the pale moon light and falling rainl
Arachias attacks Gimles with his Scimitar and lightly wounds him!
Troglaaz's blade darts behind his head as he prepares to swing, his grip tightening instinctively around the weapon's dripping hilt. As the orcs around him crash violently into the Rohirrim horsemen, he rushes Gramfyst's mount, darting swifly towards it's left side as he drops to a crouch. With a fierce growl, he swings the black scimitar around towards the momentarily distracted man's left side.
Troglaaz attacks Gramfyst with his Scimitar, but he misses by a handspan.
Spear points are raised in oposition to the mounted humans. A sea of glittering red eyes float in the darkness. One near naked, and soaking wet snaga rushes out of the crowd, a stone dagger held high overhead. A shrill cry echos from from it's fang filled mouth as it leaps forward, attempting to drive it's short blade into the leg of the mounted Hasumund.
Grishnakh rises suddenly as the fight is joined not far off, and leads his troop of orcs in a fast run toward the combat, sloshing through the mud and rain with heavy boots. Their shields are held high, emblazoned with several distinct emblems, including the gread Red Eye of Mordor.
Gimles quickly scrambles to his feet as his chance hit buys him a little time, the orc is upon him quickly though and he is cut in the arm by the cruel blade. Gimles swings his spear from right to left in a horizontal arc, hoping to slice open the filthy belly or at least keep the beast at bay...
Gimles furiously attacks Arachias with his Spear and lightly wounds him!
The scimitar wielding Orc, content with his life, and the momentary distraction the snaga has bought him, ducks back into the advancing ranks of Orcs.
DuRoch rises also, following his general into the fray. His garrison quickly moves inot formation behind him.
Where Gramfyst's eyes failed, his horse's did not. Sensing the approaching attack of Troglaaz, the trained warhorse rears, swinging Gramfyst out of harm's way at the last moment. Gripping the beast's flanks with his legs, the Rohir immediately arcs out his longsword with an ill-prepared swing at his attacker's torso.
Gramfyst attacks Troglaaz with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!
Gurgarath steps nearer, a mountain of scaly flesh. One clawed hand clutches a massive hammer, and the other grips a large round buckler. The Troll comes to a halt, still well behind the ranks of Orcs, and watches.
As the orc facing Hasumund growls and starts working it's way closer to him, another orc comes out of nowhere and attacks, it's sharp dagger scoring the front of the man's calf, and even pricking the horse. Face contorted in pain and disgust, Hasumund whips his impromptu weapon around, slamming down with the shaft of his axe at the snaga's head... leaving his other side open to the first orc - which luckly for him, moved on.
Gramfyst immediately pulls his horse several paces away from his foe, and calls into the night, "Rohir! Rohir! To me! To me! Call your position!"
The near naked snaga drops like a ton of bricks, out cold, crumpling to the ground beneath the hooves of Hasumund's mount.
Troglaaz presses forward along the steeds left side, his scimitar rising again as he prepares to swing at Gramfyst. His eyes widen from beneath his helm as he senses the man's swing, and he instinctively twists his body, causing the sharp blade to glance off his heavily armored left shoulder. Wincing in pain, he rushes forward once more, his scimitar feinting towards the man's side before turning at the last second to strike towards the mount's neck.
Gramfyst spots Hasumund, and yells hoarsely, "Messenger! Put up that axe and get back to camp! Get help, man, before it is too late!"
Arachias grunts and whinces as the spear's edge scratches through his armor and across his flesh. As the blade falls away from the attack his eyes open and shine brightly in the falling rain. A dark cackle erupts from his belly as he feels the sting of his wounds and dark bleeding of its depths. His mouth falls open with his laughter, letting Gimles peer down into his ribbed throat and spit roped cheeks. Then with his gapping mouth he nudges forward as if to impale his opponents face with his tusks, only suddenly then raising his blade upward and letting it fall upon his enemies already bleeding shoulder in an arch.
Arachias attacks Gimles with his Scimitar, but he misses by a mile.
Hasumund spares no time after catching the commander's shout. Leaving the fallen snaga for dead, he digs his heels into the flanks of his mount, and starts galloping off to the west, clods of mud and dirt kicked up forming a trail behind him...
Hasumund heads off into the plains to the west.
Hasumund has left.
Gimles ducks and dodges to the side dropping to a crouch. As the scimitar swipes past his shoulder, the rider slams his shield forward, thrusting his spear upward, hopefully under the guard and into the armpit of the orc.
Gimles attacks Arachias with his Spear and mildly wounds him!
The horse beneath Gramfyst screams as Troglaaz's scimitar carves a gash into the animal's neck. The wound is deep, and blood wells up as the animal thrashes, barely allowing Gramfyst to stay in the saddle. But this is a warhorse, trained for battle, and the pain infuriates it. Instinctually, the horse surges to crowd his attacker, and Gramfyst lashes out with his sword at the Uruk that has wounded his mount...
Gramfyst attacks Troglaaz with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.
Gurgarath grips hammer and buckler in one huge hand, and raises his free hand to his mouth. A bellow that rises high above din of fighting and falling rain echos through the night sky...
The sun flashes brightly on the horizon. Night gives way to morning.
Gurgarath +shouts "Fight you maggots, fight!"
Grishnakh does not bother to try to match the mighty howl of the olog-hai. Instead he curses softly to himself as one of the Riders flies westward into the rain too quickly to be intercepted. He picks up the pace as his troop comes near to the scrambling melee, and charges directly after the nearest of the Riders. With a soft snarl he lashes out, his heavy blade moving with blinding speed and agility as it quickly bloodies the man's legs.
Troglaaz is shoved back by the thrashing warhorse, stumbling slightly in the mud before regaining his balance. He raises the scimitar defensively before him just in time to knock aside the human's blow, which rings loudly in his ears despite the heavy rain and noise from the fighting around him. Snarling angrily under his breath, the -hai rushes forward once more, attempting to keep at the steed's left side as he slashes horizontally at the mounted rider's chest.
Troglaaz attacks Gramfyst with his Scimitar, but Gramfyst parries the attack with his shield!
DuRoch howls mightily as his unit clashes with the embattled horsemen. Pitch and swy finds him shouldered with Troglaaz and his lads in their stuggle with the mihg tof Gramfyst.
Arachias lets out a loud howl as he feels the sting of the spear again prick his flesh and open a wond on his arm. Black blood bubbles downward, coating his elbow and falling in a turrent to the ground. Again his eyes blink and shake off the pain, their infernal glow igniting his opponents face with a dark fierceness. Another dark chuckle echoes forth from his gut and with a few steps to the right he again tries a sneak attack. Lunging a sharp left he lowers his tusks and growls with a spew of green foam and a wicked smile, bringing the shinning blade of his scimitar up and around for a swing at Gimles open side section.
Arachias attacks Gimles with his Scimitar, but he misses by a mile.
The scimitar's blow from Troglaaz deflects harmlessly off of Gramfyst's shield, and the Rohir immediately counter-attacks, using the temporary opening to slash at the Uruk-hai's sword-arm where it is outstretched.
Gramfyst attacks Troglaaz with his Longsword and lightly wounds him!
DuRoch surges forward as Gramfyst lays into Troglaaz. Sensing a possible opening, DuRoch slashes at the riders midsection with his scimitar.
DuRoch draws his black scimitar from its sheathe with a screeching hiss.
DuRoch attacks Gramfyst with his Scimitar, but he misses by a handspan.
Gimles leaps forward and up from the crouch, letting the scimitar sing through the air over his head and down behind him. His shield rams upward at Arachias's chin and his spear soon follows, the barbed head trying to find its way through the scales to drink of orcish ichor...
Gimles attacks Arachias with his Spear, but he misses by a mile.
Gramfyst barely sees the second attacker in time, and twists in his saddle to evade DuRoch's strike by a hair's width.
Grishnakh finds himself surrounded by orcs as those who followed him surround several horsemen, their scimitars and axes hacking and flailing madly, slinging rainwater and red blood to the muck. A horse screams as its foreleg is broken by a slashing blade. A man screams as he is dragged to the sloshing ground and overwhelmed by a veritable mound of hateful black creatures. Their weapons rise and fall cruelly for a time, even after his cries have silenced.
Troglaaz flinches in pain as the Rohirrim's longsword breaks several steel-links of the chainmail covering his right arm. Pulling his weapon back instinctively, he takes a short step back and to his left before swinging again, this time attempting to strike the man's lower back as he is distracted by DuRoch's attack.
Troglaaz attacks Gramfyst with his Scimitar, but Gramfyst parries the attack with his Longsword!
Gurgarath steps closer to the Uruk line, occasionaly placing his huge toeless foot, which is now crusted with mud, upon the backs of stragglers, and pushing them forward. It's the steely glitter in the Troll's black eyes, more than his monsterous feet that cause the Orcs to move forward, and throw themselves into battle, fighting tooth and nail with spear, scimitar, axe, and dagger.
Arachias fleshy brows lower as the sheild is flug towards his face, quicky he jumps to his left and barley misses the aime of the spears head which skims by the flank of his armor. A dark growl vibratres over his lips as his nostrils blow steam. His eyelids close and open for what seems like hours, their sockets casting a hellish glow in the dim dawn. In another assault on his opponent he flings his scimitar's blazing edge towards the unwounded and unguarded shoulder of Gimles. A loud grunt coming up from his gut during the process, which releases a foul odor of about the muddy air.
Arachias attacks Gimles with his Scimitar, but he misses by a hair.
Gramfyst's momentum evading DuRoch's attack spurred his wounded mount enough to reveal the dark scimitar in Troglaaz's claw whistling toward the human. Somehow he brings his sword low enough to deflect the strike, and flicks his blade inward, a jab intended to pierce the throat of his enemy.
Gramfyst attacks Troglaaz with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.
With a quick bloody slash, Grishnakh's opponent slumps and falls in a heap to the muddy earth. The orc-captain takes a step back and reviews the ongoing brawl, as orcs surround the Rohirrim, from two to five orcs on each man. Another horse falls screaming to their merciless blades.
Gimles sees the attack coming and quickly pivots on his right foot, falling away quickly from the attack. In the same motion, the rider swipes his spear back across his path, the shaft cracking down at Arachias's kneck and shoulder.
Gimles attacks Arachias with his Spear and mildly wounds him!
DuRoch curses and moves to flank he rider, as to attack from the opposite side as Troglaaz. The Uruk thrusts again with his scimitar.
DuRoch attacks Gramfyst with his Scimitar, but he misses by a long shot.
Grishnakh says, "South, uruks, drive them south before you kill the last of them!" His shout is muted by the shuddering patter of rainfall, but still clear enough to most of the combatants. "We'll head northward to home as soon as the last of these fools is dead!"
Troglaaz hisses angrily as his blade is once again deflected, his eyes flashing as he turns his gaze on the human. Quickly turning his body sideways, the -hai narrowly avoids the thrusting blade aimed for his throat by tilting his head back. His scimitar rises quickly overhead once more, it's black blade seeming to hover above his helm for a split second before slashing down at the man's left shoulder.
Troglaaz attacks Gramfyst with his Scimitar, but he misses by a handspan.
Arachias whinces and grunts painfully as the shaft of the spear hits the back of his helmet. As the helmet bores down upon his flesh it becomes his own enemy, cutting into neck and sending forth a trickle of blood. He a quick, yet planned, motion of retaliation he swings now under the spear and about again to face his opponent. With a growl and a lower of his fleshy brows he raises again his sharped edged scimitar and swings in a horizontal arch towards the legs of Gimles.
Arachias attacks Gimles with his Scimitar and mildly wounds him!
Steam bursts from Gramfyst in short breaths as he works to keep his two attackers at bay. With a shout and a quick saw on the reins, he maneuvers his way clear of both Uruk, then leans forward in his saddle and brings his blade down hard toward DuRoch's skull.
Gurgarath wades through the milling mass of Orcs, his rough voice once again rising up over the din, "Battle, for blood, for death, fight you miserable worms!" There is a crack as a thrusting spear snaps upon the armored breast of the Troll. Lurching forward, the monsterous beast heaves it's hammer forward twice, and two brave horsemen fall to the muddy earth in a tangle with their panicked mounts. A bolt of lightning splits the predawn sky, briefly illuminating Gurgarath and the bloody hammer in his right hand with an eerie blue glow.
Arachias whinces and grunts painfully as the shaft of the spear hits the back of his helmet. As the helmet bores down upon his flesh it becomes his own enemy, cutting into neck and sending forth a trickle of blood. He a quick, yet planned, motion of retaliation he swings now under the spear and about again to face his opponent. With a growl and a lower of his fleshy brows he raises again his sharped edged scimitar and swings in a horizontal arch towards the legs of Gimles.
A few moments laterthe rumble of thunder growls in the sky, drowning out all sound.
Gramfyst attacks DuRoch with his Longsword and moderately wounds him!
Gimles barely deflects the blow, the blade skittering off and making a small gash in his leg. Gimles backs away and thrusts the spear forward keeping the orc at bay..
Gimles attacks Arachias with his Spear and moderately wounds him!
DuRoch is knocked back by the force of Gramfysts attack. He gathers himself and returns the favor.
DuRoch attacks Gramfyst with his Scimitar, but he misses by a mile.
Ransul saunters in from the west.
Ransul has arrived.
Derkseez saunters in from the west.
Derkseez has arrived.
Troglaaz presses towards Gramfyst once more, his body dropping down nearly to the ground as he attempts to reach the steed's left side. Snarling loudly through clenched teeth, he swings a backhanded blow at the horse's legs, the black blade slashing horizontally above the ground.
Llachhal saunters in from the west.
Llachhal has arrived.
Llachhal moves quickly and silently.
Llachhal is IC.
Llachhal is Hooded.
Hasumund saunters in from the west.
Hasumund has arrived.
Hasumund is IC
Dalamar saunters in from the west.
Dalamar has arrived.
Byringlor saunters in from the west.
Byringlor has arrived.
Arachias lets out a very loud howl as the spear rames into his chest, sending forth a turrent of dark black blood over his opponent. His neck raises in sinc with his holler and then with a dark shutter he lowers his eyes to face Gimles, their wicked fiery insides attempting to peer deep into his soul. Wrenching himself from the spear and moving backwards his mouth drops in a loud growl, foam and slobber spew forth into the rainy sky only to be accompanied by the rising of his scimitar and slashing of its shimmring edge towards the legs of Gimles.
Arachias attacks Gimles with his Scimitar, but he misses by a handspan.
Still working to fend off both attackers, Gramfyst evades another blow from DuRoch, knocking it harmlessly away with his shield. His mount does not fare as well, however, as a well-placed slash from Troglaaz slices deep at the horse's front-left knee. An unearthly scream comes out of the animal's mouth, echoed immediately by a roar of fury from Gramfyst. Even as the horse hobbles and stumbles, losing blood from two major wounds now, Gramfyst slams his longsword in a chopping swing at Troglaaz's head.
Gramfyst attacks Troglaaz with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.
Gimles sidesteps to the right as the scimitar flickers by. His shield held to cover him, the rider thrusts forward again with Orcspic, the head ramming for the already bleeding torso..
Gimles attacks Arachias with his Spear and lightly wounds him!
Gurgarath drops to his knees in the midst of the battle, lightning now flashing wildly through the sky. He reaches out with one black clawed hand, and grips a fallen rider by his leather jerkin. Bringing the rider's throat near his long white fangs, the Troll lowers his head, and with one swift motion of his jaws, bites clean through the fleshy part of the brave rider's neck. The second recieves the same fate.
Grishnakh can barely be seen in a thick group of a half-dozen orcs surrounding a beleaguered Rider of Rohan. The orc-blades rise in quick strokes, but none seem to find their mark as the agile man hacks and parries with sword and shield. Finally Grishnakh, a short, broad creature far too quick and surefooted for his build, leaps in with a savage stroke that severs the hind leg of the Rider's steed. The animal shrieks terribly and stumbles, then the hard hands of orcs drag it down. The orcs close in, howling and hooting savagely as their blades hew the fallen man and horse.
DuRoch stumbles to one side as the horse canters and steps wildly in pain. Hoping to make use of the riders distraction, DuRoch hacks savagely at the mans legs.
Gurgarath stands, mud runing down his long scaly shins, and a river of blood falling from his now red fangs and mouth over his own neck and chest.
DuRoch attacks Gramfyst with his Scimitar, but Gramfyst parries the attack with his Longsword!
Horses gallop in from the west, bearing the eagerly awaiting and urgently needed reinforcements Hasumund was sent to get. Fellow Rohirrim, and, in a pleasent surprise, some of their Gondorian allies. Trailing by a bit, Hasumund returns, his horse tired from being ridden hard in the round-trip journy.
All told it appears that there were perhaps ten Riders at the beginning of this battle, and some fifty orcs wearing several different emblems on their filthy tunics. Now only a couple of Riders still stand, though at least a dozen orcs lie dead.
Arachias growls as as spear again jabs into his bleeding side, sending forth more black blood which fizzles towards the ground. His eyes glare brightly and then with a dark growl he swings his own blade, in mimic of Gimles tactics he jabs the sharp edge towards the hooman's side. A dark cackle erupts forth from his dropping jaw and with the jab he throws forth his sharp tusks in hopes to force the hooman back with a dropping of its defenses.
Arachias attacks Gimles with his Scimitar and moderately wounds him!
Grishnakh comes out of the press of orcs as they continue to savage the fallen rider, turning his great helmeted head to glare westward at the unmistakeable sound of hooves, thudding along the wet and bloody earth despite the continuing downpour of drenching rain.
Twisted fingers scrabble at the blade piercing the throat of a hapless Uruk, but soon drop away as the creature breathes no more. The Rider responsible for the slaying pulls the blade free, cursing the beast that slumps to the ground before him.
Mocking laughter echoes from Troglaaz's heavy steel helm as the Rohirrim horse and rider tumble to the ground. Darting aside to avoid being caught in the tangle, the -hai ducks under the human's swing, narrowly avoiding the sword's sharp blade. A loud hiss issues from his black lips as he rushes the fallen Gramfyst, his scimitar slicing down from over his head, towards the Rohirrim's neck and shoulders.
As the horses approach the actual battle, one slows down a touch and a man leaps off the back as the rider spurs his horse on. Unsheathing his shield, he raises his sword into the air, and swings it around a touch, summoning the Gondorians who have just arrived and are getting off the horses.
Troglaaz attacks Gramfyst with his Scimitar and lightly wounds him!
A large grey horse comes in from the west and before the horse has even stopped a man clad in green leaps off the beast and lands on the ground, drawing his sword and shield Dalamar looks around to take in the battle field.
Gimles tries to repeat his sidestep, but slips on the wet turf. The curved blade bites into his thigh and the rider swipes his shield to the side, ripping the blade from his leg and slinging it outward. Trying to use this to his immediate advantage, Gimles thrusts forward at the orc's neck.
Gimles attacks Arachias with his Spear and lightly wounds him!
Llachhal hangs on to Ransul's back until the draw close to the battle, the anger on his face unmistakeable as he watches another rider go down before they can reach them. He slides off, reaching for his sword and follows behind byrlingor.
Llachhal reaches to his left hip and draws his ancient blade swiftly out of it's battered sheath.
Byringlor takes a survey around him of the situation, and looks to Llachhal. Pointing towards a thin point towards the flank of the orcs, he points...
Raktura eyes take in the battle raging on in front of her, they seem to glow with a fire burning for the lust for battle. With each clink of sword upon sword, her muscles flinch as if ready to spring in. She licks her lips, the taste of blood lingering in the air spurs her instincts on to fight, but she refrains....struggling with all her might, keeping her spot hidden behind the bush. The thought of her mission holding her at bay, but only by a mere margin.
Byringlor heads north and upwards towards the roar of Rauros Falls.
Byringlor has left.
The wet ground and Gramfyst's wounded horse prove an unstable mix, and the exhausted mount stumbles to the ground, pitching the older Patrol Leader into the mud. Immediately he tucks his shoulder into the fall, lessening the impact of hitting the ground as he rolls. His horse, however, cannot regain it's footing in the mud, and thrashes where it lay as it tries to get up.
Llachhal heads north and upwards towards the roar of Rauros Falls.
Llachhal has left.
Hasumund heads north and upwards towards the roar of Rauros Falls.
Hasumund has left.
Ransul heads north and upwards towards the roar of Rauros Falls.
Ransul has left.
Raktura heads north and upwards towards the roar of Rauros Falls.
Raktura has left.
Vishkaat heads north and upwards towards the roar of Rauros Falls.
Vishkaat has left.
Dalamar heads north and upwards towards the roar of Rauros Falls.
Dalamar has left.
Arachias growls loudly as the spear comes forward and digs its point directly in between his shoulder and his neck. A dark howl comes again from his lips as he tusks skim the head of the spear while it's withdrawn. Quickly he jumps back and lowers his helmet in hopes to protect his head. His fleshy brows and glowing eyes come to focus on his opponent and with a sudden jab of his scimitar he slashes towards Gimles bleeding shoulder with a grunt of obvious revenge.
Arachias attacks Gimles with his Scimitar, but he misses by a handspan.
Derkseez's spear raises as he hears the scream come from across the room. Turn to the left he sees the uruks and makes his way toward them, keeping his face expressionless. Upon reaching one of the vile creatures, he tries to sneak around the back of him while the uruk is distracted. Hoping he's not noticed, Derkseez raises his spear and bring it down in one swift movement upon one of nearby uruks.
Derkseez heads north and upwards towards the roar of Rauros Falls.
Derkseez has left.
Several battlecrazed Uruks leap upon Gramfyst's horse, wildly hacking at the wounded animal's flesh with their blackened blades. Troglaaz growls loudly at the sight of the horse's blood, his black tongue snaking out from his mouth to lick hungrily at his dark lips. Cautiously, he steps towards Gramfyst, his crooked legs bent nearly to the ground as he slashes low into the side of the man's knees.
Troglaaz attacks Gramfyst with his Scimitar and lightly wounds him!
Gimles grins mirthlessly and easily steps back from the attack, though showing a limp. His spear again darts forward, ruthlessly crashing towards the bloody chest.
Gimles furiously attacks Arachias with his Spear and lightly wounds him!
Grishnakh sees the newcomers ride northward toward the flank. Not to be caught unawares, he calls out. "Uruk-hai Lugburzob! North, to me!"
Two horses run wild and riderless through the confusion or battle. Oddly enough, the beasts go unmolested by the Orcs, who now have a larger concern: the fresh spears of the newly arrived riders.
Grishnakh lopes swiftly to the north, followed at once by a platoon of some dozen orcs, big and dangerous soldiers wearing only the great red Eye of Mordor.
You head north and up towards Rauros Falls.
Hasumund reins his mount to a halt near the dismounting Gondorians, and raises his axe once more, evidently not having bothered to pick up a spear during his trip to find reinforcements. Seeing no orcs running at him, the man takes a few moments to gingerly touch his wounded leg, a deep score showing through cut fabric. Feeling the knife-wound beginning to clot over, he lifts his hand again, unwilling to start it bleeding again. Instead, he watches the fighting, ready to do his part if an uruk comes at him.
Grishnakh lopes northward at once on seeing the movement of the newcomers. Hearing his shouted command, a squad of a dozen or so orcs follows him. They are tall, broad creatures, strong and crafty, wearing heavy armor and the great Red Eye of Barad-dur as their insignia.
West Bank of the Anduin, at Rauros Falls
You stand very near the western flank of Rauros Falls which thunder down fr...
Contents:
Dalamar Stands sword and shield in hand and cloak drawn tightly about him, he scans the battle field waiting for someone or thing to make the first move.
Llachhal raises his sword and follows, only yards behind the orcs and their leader. His shield is on his left arm and he yells in fury at the idea of them escaping.
Ransul looks down to Llachhal and grins, "An easy ride as promised friend!" he wheels the great black mare about with a grin and spurs her. Some 20 yards back now Ransul turns again to face the battle, and leveling his spear with a clinched jaw chooses which of the vermin will soon perish.
Grishnakh gestures angrily with his blade, sending his small squad out in a line, shields held high and heavy swords and axes held ready. "Intercept them, curse you," he shouts, "don't let them any further northward!"
Byringlor rallies the Gondor troops, "For glory and honor O'Gondor." Levelling his sword, he leads the men behind him into the thick of the orcs. Looking left and right, he watches for people coming in from the side and follows the front of the men into the thick of battle.
Llachhal slows as the orcs turn and form a line. He glances towards Byrlingor and the others, to either side and advances with them, the line taking him straight towards the leader.
Dalamar follows Byringlor's lead and marches in behind sword and shield at the ready.
The great black uruks of Mordor lurch forward roaring curses and spitting rage. Their shields and weapons are quick and strong, hardly deterred by the weight of their armor and equipment. With the first shock of impact they fight back skillfully.
Derkseez readies his spear, cautiously approaching a uruk from behind. Just as he attains striking distance the uruk turns around and swing an axe in a wide arc at his chest. Derkseez raises his shield just as the axe crashes against it, the force from the blow pushing him backward. He quickly regains his position and thrusts his spear toward the uruk's chest.
Hasumund starts walking his mount towards the orc line, not wanting to trust to his wounded leg or give up the advatange of being on horseback. The Rohirrim's path ends up taking him close to LLachhal and the other Gondorians...
Grishnakh lopes forward in a steady jog at the head of the orcs of Barad-dur. He keeps a hunched posture, naturally low, bow-legged but agile. As the first Gondorian approaches, the orc-captain snarls and curses. "I should have known," he hisses. "These cowards can't even ride without a Tark to watch their backs."
Byringlor goes through what are obviosuly long practiced, and well-known movements for him, duck swing, lunge, advance, parry, riposte, retreat, lunge-- A vicuos cycle as he hits and stands steady with his men against the mass of Orcs. Slowly but surely though, he finds his movements bringing him further from the main group of his men. Having not the time to either move to them, or rally them to himself, he fights on, giving a little ground.
The orc facing Derkseez snarls and shouts in anger as the young man wards off his first assault. The great black creature, the height of a short man but broad and powerful, lashes out with his scimitar, feinting and then hacking in a brutal assault aimed at the human's legs.
Dalamar is seperated from the main line of Gondorians and is swinging and dodging the best he can, he hacks at a orcs hamstring and drops it to its knees, then Dalamar jumps back looking for the Gondorian line, not being able to spot it in the mess of orcs he stands in a defencive stance waiting for a time to catch the Gondo's or be forced to fight
Llachhal echoes Byr's cry, "For Gondor!" as the line takes him at the orc's leader. He smiles grimly, fending off the orc next to it with a quick parry, then turns his attention to the leader as the man next to him parries the first orc's next blow. He darts forward, sword coming down at the orc's shoulder, shield held high to guard his neck.
Llachhal attacks Grishnakh with his Longsword!...
...and he misses!
Raktura eyes peeled upon the horde of orcs, her hatred of the humans feeding her battlelust she begins to move through the brush absent mindedly as if to stalk her prey. Her nostrils flare, she snarls as the scent of the humans invade and assalt her. Her hand gripping the pommel of her sword slowly begins to pull it free of its scabbard at her waist. She evaluates each potiential opponent and discovers one left to her mercy. Stalking she crouches behind the brush until the right moment approaches.
Raktura unsheathes a fierce looking short broadsword. It makes a slight whinning sound as it leaves its sheathe in search of enemy flesh.
Vishkaat can forgets himself finally and stands up straight in full view, his axe in hand in one deft movement. His shield swings from his back to his arm and his powerful jaws open, a warcry not heard in these parts splitting the air...
Vishkaat dips his left shoulder and slips his shield off his back. Deftly he slides his arm through the straps and tightens them.
Vishkaat drops his right hand to his belt and knocks his axe upward from the loop, catching it and brandishing the weapon menacingly.
Grishnakh snarls and hisses as he wards off the tall man's quick sword. Ducking and leaning forward suddenly, he lashes out. His heavy scimitar hacks low at Llachhal's legs, and his shield shoves forward to unbalance the man before the squat orc turns again to warily guard against new attackers.
As the Gondorian next to him parries one orc and slashes at another of the broad figures, Hasumund seizes a chance. "For Rohan!" the man cries, a companion to the other battle cries, as he swings down with the edge of his axe at the first orc LLachhal blocked, aiming at it's metal-shod head.
Grishnakh attacks Llachhal with his Scimitar...
Llachhal parries the attack with his shield!
Derkseez, not seeing the low attack until too late, pulls his leg out soon enough so that the whole leg wouldn't be cleaved off, but not soon enough to keep him from attaining a 1/2 inch slit in his leg. Derkseez looks down at the wound, the tendons in his neck tightning in anger, as blood begins to seep out. Quickly he uses the ample time he has to attack the uruk while it is still low, sending his spear nearly straight down at him.
Dalamar hears a twig smap and imidiatly swings around in his crouch and notices an orc heading toward him. He frowns slightly and pulls his shield up and sword out to face this new threat.
The orc before Derkseez looses a howl as the young man's spear finds its mark in the creature's foot. Cursing and shouting the orc shoves Derkseez away, then limps after him hacking with his heavy sword.
Byringlor works his way around, dropping down, he comes up under the blade of one of the foul beasts and spears his blade straight intot he foul thing's heart. Suddenly, to his surprise, he finds himself in a lull. He stands and turns around to take an estimation of the battle. Hearing an awful cry from an unexpected direction, he turns to see an Orc brandishing an axe near the river. After one more glance around, he turns and runs toward the beast pell-mell, his sword help high in an overhand slash attack position, but as he comes to the creature, he stops suddenly, and watches, sword at enguard, eyeing the turf and bushes around.
Hasumund wrenches his bloody weapon free, a triumphant grin etched on his plain face. Holding the rain-wet axe shaft in both hands for more force and a better grip, the messenger playing at warrior-hood swipes out with it again, at the orc next to the one he just felled - at Grishnakh. The heavy axehead rushes down, cutting through the air at the turning, ducking beast, in a strike at the limit of Hasumund's range.
Raktura charges out to take advantage of the surprised human's state, her eyes show a rage in them as if energy was pinned up inside of her for a long time and is about to be loosed upon thie whiteskin known as Dalamar. Her sword moving through the air with an effortless motion, she brings it to bear down upon the human cowering before her charge.
Hasumund attacks Grishnakh with his Battle Axe!...
...and he misses!
Llachhal drops to a crouch, shield lowering as the orc makes a quick sweep at his legs. The shield blocks the blow with a clash as the scimitar slides aross the metal studs. The orc's shield thrust almost unbalances him, but he leans into it, twisting his sword around as he does. He thrusts upwards at the orc's chest, rising with it, the shield coming up too. The orc's shi
Raktura attacks Dalamar with her Short Broadsword, but she misses by a hair.
Llachhal attacks Grishnakh with his Longsword!...
...and he misses!
Dalamar quickly sidesteps the orcs charge and swings his sword around at her side as she goes by. He brings his shield out in front of him in the same motion waiting for the next attack.
Dalamar attacks Raktura with his Longsword, but he misses by an arm's length.
You hear a loud *KLING* noise as Derkseez's spear clashes against the uruk's black blade. Seeing that his spear is the only thing maintaining his positon, Derkseez puts all his weight against it, pushing the uruk's axe along with it. Using the ample time he has, Derkseez attempts to ram the uruk with his shield.
Hasumund's missed strike unbalances him, and the man struggles to man struggles to regain proper position in his saddle, while keeping his horse from bumping into the friendly footmen all around... a difficult task, one that takes most of his attention for a bit.
Grishnakh snarls and ducks low with a quick sidestep to avoid Hasamund's swinging and gory axe. Before he can counter, though, Llachhal is before him again. Moving his wide shield swiftly he blocks the tall man's blade, but then turns on the Rider. Spinning and leaping forward, he attacks with terrific power and rage. His blade falls swift and low, aimed not for the man but for the nearest leg of the steed.
Vishkaat straightens even more, to his full height as the human runs towards him. His axe is held loosly in his hand a little to side....his dark eyes glare venom at the Tark and then his jaw hangs open once more, again the horrible cry issuing forth, the sound somewhat like a bird of some sort, though far more horrible and full of hate. Even as the noise dies on his black lips, Vishkaat's huge leg muscles bunch and he springs foward, his weapon whirling at face height for a moment and then chopping downward across Byringlor's torso, with enough force to split the ribcage open....
Vishkaat attacks Byringlor with his Axe and moderately wounds him!
Raktura whirls around with great ease narrowly avoiding the humans swing. She now faces him with a confident assurance that she will be victorious over him. The sword plays in a fashion that displays a true warriors talent. She circles her foe, spying an opening she grins with a foul wickedness as she raises her sword with a swift motion and pulls it across her chest in a wide arc, hoping to bite into the humans fair skin.
Raktura attacks Dalamar with her Short Broadsword and moderately wounds him!
Ransul circles north just yards away from the thick of the battle. His mount snorts impatiently, constantly jerking her head towards the small host of foul creatures. "Easy Vansha..." her rider hisses, his eyes finally comming to rest on his target.
Derkseez's uruk opponent shoves again with his shield, but with his wounded foot his stance is weak, and as their shields collide it is the orc who stumbles. He curses and struggles to regain his footing as he brings his shield around again to attempt to defend himself.
Byringlor's caught at a moment when his eyes have left his opponent,and though he retreats, he is not quick enough and gets caught on his sword arm. As the arm drops, he brings his other arm to it and switches his sword hands. Moving forward again, he switches his attack, and bring his sword into a counter-four, obviously hoping to force his opponents axe out of the way as his sword leaps toward the abdomen of the orc.
Intent on recovering his poise, Hasumund doesn't notice the orc captain coming in for a return blow - luckily, one aimed at his horse, not him. Screaming in pain, the animal collapses, one foreleg cut to the bone and beyond. Hasumund is thrown to the ground, stunned momentarily, weapon nearly slipping from his fingers. And the orcs start to close in...
Dalamar twists to avoid the sword but is too late and catches the swing on his left shoulder. He glares at the Orc and notices her confidence, he ducks dwon in a low crouch and thrusts his sword forward at her chest.
Dalamar attacks Raktura with his Longsword, but he misses by an arm's length.
Byringlor attacks Vishkaat with his Longsword and badly wounds him!
Llachhal takes advantage of the orc's attack on the rider beside him and moves after it again. As the orc strikes at Hasamund, Llachhal thrusts at Grishnakh's side, then tries to slam the sheild into the orc as well. From the corner of his eye, he sees the horse go down, and Hasamund with it.
Llachhal attacks Grishnakh with his Longsword!...
...and he misses!
Grishnakh half-turns in place, still sure-footed and quick. He seems to anticipate Llachhal's attack, or at least the pursuit, and brings his shield around in time. With a THUD of steel on reinforced wood the thrust he deflects Llachhal's thrust, then swings in swiftly to hack at the tall man's sword-arm.
Grishnakh attacks Llachhal with his Scimitar...
Llachhal dodges the attack.
Raktura brings her sword through as it bites into the humans flesh, her sword drinking of the humans life blood. A gleam of satisfaction is seen flashing behind her eyes as her swords hunger begins to take it's fill, though it still thirsts for more. With a surprising deftness to her feet she is able to move her body allowing her foes sword to slice through air where her body once stood. She grins with a evilness as she once again wills her sword forward in a low backswing down towards the humans thighs in hopes to weaken his stance.
Ransuls spurs dig into the mares haunches and she rears then leaps forward at a full gallop. Hooves thunder upon the ground and glittering speartip level again, this time at the neck of the limping orc that harrasses Derkseez.
Raktura attacks Dalamar with her Short Broadsword, but she misses by a hair.
Vishkaat tries to stop his momentum, but his spiked boots simply rip the turf from the wet ground. With a wet thud, the sword hits his shield, piercing through the hide, cutting deeply into his arm and then cracking his armor, black blood starting to flow from his side. A growl of rage and surprise passes the yellowed tusks and Vishkaat jerks his shield to the side, ripping the blade free and flinging it outward. In a flash, his axe is moving in a reverse arc, the heavy back of the head aimed at the human's shoulder, trying to topple him, or at least break bone...
Vishkaat attacks Byringlor with his Axe and lightly wounds him!
Dalamar notes the orcs quickness and takes his time in between swings. He blocks the orcs sword off to the side with his shield then swings his own sowrd in a short arc at her leg, hoping to throw her off balance.
Dalamar attacks Raktura with his Longsword, but he misses by an arm's length.
Hasumund slowly shakes his head, trying to clear it. Clambering to his hands and knees next to the fallen horse, the man looks up - and sees an orc barrelling down. Letting out an involuntary shout, he throws himself to the ground again, and the uruk's weapon goes through where he was - and keeps on going. The orc trips, falling over Hasumund. Before either one can get back up, a Gondorian, fallen behind the others by a bit because of the horse, runs it through with his longsword. The Rohirrim scrambles out from under the corpse, standing once more, albeit woozily.
Llachhal twists his torso to the side and the orc's scimitar sweeps by only inches away. He steps back, then tries to move between Grishnakh and the fallen rider. Lifting the shield up again, he takes a quick step forward, his sword coming down in an arc at the orc's weapon's arm.
Llachhal attacks Grishnakh with his Longsword!...
...and he misses!
Byringlor ducks the attacks and side steps, but again--too slow-- pulling his sword out of the shield and flesh took time, and his opponents axe managed to knick his shoulder and he ducked, leaving a blackening mark in the leather armor which is slowly growin. Grimacing, he completes the sidestep to the left and brings his sword in a slashing motion to the right against his opponents now weakened arm.
Byringlor attacks Vishkaat with his Longsword and badly wounds him!
Ransuls spear finds it mark and burries itself deep into the orcs neck. The shear force of the blow lifting the uruk from his feet and throwing him to the ground a good 10 feet from where it once stood. Black blood gushes forth as the spear is withdrawn nad the orcs body now twitches on the ground, dead. "Another is upon you Derkseez!!" yells the rider over his shoulder, unable to turn and help at such a fierce gallop.
The flash of steel from the human Dalamar's sword seems to fly wide of the she-orcs legs as Raktura dances with the human. Chuckling a bit she snorts, "Iz seez da whiteskinz in these landz arez no betterz den da onez dat plague minez". Her lips curl up into a snide smile as she eyes her opponent once more. The firery red eyes holding him captive as her sword moves swiftly through the air to come to bear upon the humans arm once again.
Grishnakh whips his arm back, then flicks his blade upward at once. With a ringing of steel, dark on bright, he parries Llachhal's stroke and then shoves again with his heavy shield, pushing with terrible strength. "Enough of you, half-Tark," he hisses. "Hold still a moment and I'll see that one less of you returns to your haunts in our ruins!" With that and a snarl he lashes out savagely, pressing Llachhal with brutal high slashes of his scimitar.
Grishnakh attacks Llachhal with his Scimitar...
Llachhal parries the attack with his shield!
Raktura attacks Dalamar with her Short Broadsword and moderately wounds him!
Dalamar swings his shield up high but not in time, once again the broadsword bites into his arm, he losses his footing and is forced to back away. He swings his sword in front of him more to keep the orc back than to cause harm.
Dalamar attacks Raktura with his Longsword, but he misses by a long shot.
From South, Gramfyst +shouts, "Rohir! The Mark! The Mark! Stand with me and push back these filth! Let the swamp swallow their bones forever!"
The companion of the uruk recently speared comes at Derkseez at a run. Shouting, the creature lifts a heavy, two-handed axe and brings it down toward the man's skull...
Another uruk of sturdy build waddles his way towards Derkseez back. A scimitar is raised high above its head whiles the orcs breath hisses and wheezes through dripping fangs. "You die ugly one!" he growls just before the scimitar slashes down at Derkseez back.
Grishnakh cackles suddenly on hearing the cry from the south. "Hah! Hear, Tarks and horselovers! The cowards turn to flee, and beg your aid."
Vishkaat moves to side quickly anticipating the attack, but his wounded shield arm fails him and the sword hits, just above the black rim. A ready stream of blood follows the withdrawl of the blade, and the arm hangs limp. The -Hai grits his teeth in pain and flings the deadenedd arm outward at the human, trying to keep him at bay. Then, suddenly, he takes the initiative, driving his bulk forward with surprising quickness, the axe ramming forward like a sword at Byringlor's neck..
Vishkaat attacks Byringlor with his Axe and badly wounds him!
Derkseez's body jerks around just as he sees an axe come crashing down upon him. DErkseez raises his shield just in time to stop the blow from splitting his skull, but he gets knocked by the weight of the blow. Seeing that his defensive position couldn't be worse, pretends to strike the uruk directly in the face but really directs his attention to kicking him in the groin. Just as he performs this, he sees the other uruk slicing at his back. He raises his shield in defense, offsetting his kick a little, causing the scimatar to slam against in letting out a high pitched *KLING*.
Llachhal blocks the flurry of blows with his shield, thrusting out his sword hand to block the orc's shield as it comes at him. He strains against the orc for a moment, his large frame bent forward, then shoves the shield back at Grishnakh. "Tis you who will haunt Osgiliath no more, vermin." Gathering all his strength, he brings the sword down swiftly at the orc's shoulder.
Llachhal attacks Grishnakh with his Longsword!...
...and he misses!
Byringlor takes a step slightly to the side, so as to take some of the force with the bluntness of the blade, but still, the sxe leaves a gaping hole in his chest out of which runs blood, and Byr for a moment seems about to fall. Gathering his strenght however, he throws it into a thrust at his now sliding by opponent, bringing his sowrd point in a downward direction, aiming to hit at the abdomen again.
Grishnakh lurches aside, away from Llachhal's sword. Laughing bitterly he slashes again, his heavy sword flying toward Llachhal's skull.
Grishnakh attacks Llachhal with his Scimitar...
The attack against Llachhal badly wounds him!
Byringlor attacks Vishkaat with his Longsword, but he misses by an arm's length.
Raktura sword bites once more into the whiteskins hide, a slight laughter errupts as she seemingly takes immense pleasure in the pain the whiteskin is being bestowed upon by her arm. As he stumbles back flailing his sword in front of him to defend, she merely smiles with a mocking sickness at him and waits until he regains his footing. Grinning at him she snarls, "Dis willz be da last dayz ye see da sunz whiteskinz. Prayz now ta yez god beforez I takez he headz for mez trophy". With her confident stride she presses into the human and thrusts her blade towards his ribs.
Raktura attacks Dalamar with her Short Broadsword, but she misses by a hair.
Dalamar stumbles back some more then with a quick move he springs off his right leg and dodges the orcs swing. "Wrong, i shall fight, and i shall live, for Gondor." He steps in close to the orc and thrusts his sword at her mid-section.
Dalamar attacks Raktura with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.
Ransul heads south, down and away from the hills.
Ransul has left.
Vishkaat presses even closer to the human, driving upon him with his weight. Somehow, the sword is fowled up and strays wide, just scraping the surface of the armor. The orc chuckles, a sound dripping evil, full of hate. His axe raises and he smashes down with the bottom of the haft at the junction of neck and shoulder, trying to fell the human quickly..
Vishkaat attacks Byringlor with his Axe, but Byringlor parries the attack with his Longsword!
Llachhal tries to bring the shield up again, but this time is too slow. Though he twists enough aside that the blow misses his head, it comes down on his left shoulder with almost paralyzing force, cutting deeping into the leather mail and the flesh beneath. He pulls free with a cry and staggers back, shaking his head to clear it as blood pounds in his ears. The wound bleeds freely, coloring the left side of his mail red. Angry now, he forces himself forward, sword thrusting out at the orc's chest again savagely.
Byringlor drops down, bringing his sword up against the slashing blade. As the blade hits and bounces off, he uses the same motion to bring his sword around in an arc, flashing towards the knees of his opponent, now directly before him--either he shall give distance, or he shall be hit!-- he thinks.
Llachhal attacks Grishnakh with his Longsword!...
...and he hits! Ouch!
Byringlor attacks Vishkaat with his Longsword and moderately wounds him!
Raktura sword misses it's mark by a hairs breath. As the human attempts his attack, she steps to the side. She pushes the human back firmly with her sheild and crouches in front of him, ready to spring in once more. She replies, "Gondorz breedz onlyz maggotz like ye. Iz willz enterz ye landz and takez all whiteskinz dat survive me wrath as slavez to be cavez. Iz in needz of slave ta replace me snagaz!" She lunges forward aiming for Dalamars ribs once again.
Raktura attacks Dalamar with her Short Broadsword, but Dalamar parries the attack with his Longsword!
Dalamar sidesteps the swing at his ribs and looks up. "Ye well enter my lands and ye well die." this said he swings his sword aiming high at the orcs head, hoping to stun her or at least force her back.
Dalamar attacks Raktura with his Longsword, but Raktura parries the attack with her Short Broadsword!
Grishnakh twists in place even as he lurches forward after Llachhal. The human's bright sword slides heavily along his armored chest, but never pierces the mail of the large orc's hauberk. The uruk's scimitar lashes out again, or rather, it lashes out in the same series of savage attacks begun a moment before. The orc's eyes are bright and hungry as he hacks swiftly at Llachhal's legs.
Grishnakh attacks Llachhal with his Scimitar...
Llachhal parries the attack with his shield!
The hard steel crunches into the leather plate that covers Vishkaat's shin. The steel is victorious and blood begins to seep from the wound. The orc staggers even as he tried to pivot away, dropping to one knee, still in front of the human. His lip curls in pain and malice and again he swipes the heavy weapon at Byringlor, this time a horizontal blow, edge first, a killing blow meant to remove the pale skinned head...
Vishkaat attacks Byringlor with his Axe and terribly wounds him!
Raktura only laughs at the puny human wailing his sword in front of her. She taunts him once more, "Iz takes he mother and givez her ta me warriorz to do with as theyz willz as I makez da malez cleanz da floorz with he foul tongue!" She shifts her weight and with a skillfulness only a vetran warrior may have, she weaves her sword through the air and directs it towards the humans neck as she dazzles him with her might.
Raktura attacks Dalamar with her Short Broadsword and moderately wounds him!
The two orcs facing Derkseez crowd in angrily with eyes glaring with bloodlust. The nearest of them brings his shield down easily enough, blocking the young man's kick to his groin as if it is a predictable move. The other leaps forward, hacking with his axe.
Llachhal grimaces as the flurry of blows hits the shield, jarring the wounded shoulder. He hangs onto it, barely, and it blocks the orc's thrust at his legs as it slips a little lower. He cries out again, "For Gondor!" and moves a step forward, his sword sweeping down at the orc's legs this time.
Llachhal attacks Grishnakh with his Longsword!...
...and he hits! Ouch!
Byringlor again ducks down, but gets caught, his head having a thin, but possibly deadly wound running across the top of it, blood seeping out. He screams with pain, but falls with all his might towards his opponent, blade pointed towards its black-blooded heart!
Byringlor attacks Vishkaat with his Longsword, but he misses by a handspan.
Hasumund finally comes around to his senses again. Thankfully for him, no other orcs attacked while he was loopy. A trickle of blood coming from his nose, the man hefts his axe again, in a two handed grip, and looks for a target...
Dalamar swings his shield up and deflects the swing away from his neck but the foce of the blow on his shoulder opens the wound more than it already was. He stands tall and proud, bringing his shield out in front of him, he hacks in a downward slash at the orcs chest. He ignores the threats and hides all his emotions from the orc.
Dalamar attacks Raktura with his Longsword, but he misses by an arm's length.
Even as he feels the satisfying impact of edged steel on flesh, Vishkaat is falling away, easily dodging the feeble attack. The -Hai rolls to his feet, to the side of the human and leers in victory, his axe rising and falling, the black steel glittering with red blood as it cuts a swath through the air straight for Byringlor's neck.
Grishnakh seems to be attacking recklessly, and another stroke of Llachhal's sword glances roughly along his armor, this time bruising his leg. The orc seems not to notice it, but his assault grows a bit slower and more careful. "You've felt a little pain, now, eh? Savor it, Tark." He feints suddenly. It will be over soon enough." Then he lopes forward again with a quick upward slash at Llachhal's legs and abdomen.
Byringlor collapses to the ground, defeated by Vishkaat!
Byringlor's weapon "Japhin's Longsword" falls to the ground...
Grishnakh attacks Llachhal with his Scimitar...
Llachhal parries the attack with his shield!
Byringlor rolls on the ground, but catches the hit in the shoulder, deep. His body slows and lies still, his eyes rolling back..
The first sight that Hasumund really focuses on is a Gondorian being felled by an orc, one very unlike the majority. Yelling in fury, the Eorlinglas runs at this orc, raising his axe high overhead to take revenge for what appears in the heat of battle to be a fatal blow.
Raktura sword bites again into the human, a low growl emenates from within the she-orcs throat as the feeling of inflicting more pain upon this human seems to give her more and more pleasure by the minute. Her eyes half crazed she once again presses forward with another taunt, "Sayz goodnightz whiteskin, youz will notz wakez again". The flash of her steel glints of the sun as it sings through the air coming down hard upon the humans body.
Raktura attacks Dalamar with her Short Broadsword and severely wounds him!
A cry of pain echoes through the room as Derkseez's leg crashes against the hard shield. Spareing no time, He quickly turns to stab the uruk with his spear, ramming in toward the uruk's upper chest. A *WHOOSH* sound is heard and followed by a scream as the other uruks axe crashes into his side. Blood flows in a steadily from Derkseez's side just as small moans come steadily from his clenched teeth.
Llachhal catches a glimpse of Byringlor's fall, the weapon dropping from his lifeless hand and a fire seems to light behind his eyes. Ignoring the orc's words, he takes a tighter grip on his shield and brings it over to block the scimitar's slash. Thrusting forward again, he stabs at the orc's thick neck above the armor. "For Byringlor!"
Llachhal attacks Grishnakh with his Longsword!...
...and he misses!
Vishkaat stands near the river, one boot planted on his fallen opponant's back. His fierce gaze looks over the battlefield and a pant of exertion is on his lips...he sees the axe wielding horse-boy approaching and turns to face him....
Grishnakh snickers audibly within his dark helmet. "Indeed," he croons sarcastically, "such honor you give to the dead!" He tightens his own grip on his blade, and his fevered eyes shine. "You should cry instead for strength from a greater master, Tark. Cry, for the Eye!" He leaps forward again, sword crashing down toward Llachhal's head or chest.
Hasumund's footsteps are long, if a trifle uneven, and he closes the distance rapidly. With a shout of "For Helm!", the brown-haired Rohirrim's muscles tense, and slam his weapon down in a wild blow, at Vishkaat's head or shoulders... whichever the slightly wavering axehead lands on.
Grishnakh attacks Llachhal with his Scimitar...
The attack against Llachhal badly wounds him!
Hasumund attacks Vishkaat with his Battle Axe and mildly wounds him!
As Dalamar stands tall Raktura's sword slashes into his chest and sinks through the armor like butter, then bites deep into his chest. Dalamar starts to fall back but catches his balance in time to stumble off to the side, he swings his sowrd out and then flees into the brush hoping to stay hidden, once in the brush he uses his skills as a scout and blends into the forest, to a safe spot to try and bandage the deep wound in his chest and stop the horrible bleeding.
Vishkaat stands to face the onset, a snarl on his lips. His form is hunched and he favors his left leg and side though...as the axe comes down, he swings his own up to meet it, though not with enough force to stop it completely. The blade chops behind him and the haft hits his shoulder hard...the orc grunts and drops his shoulder, that, and the armor absorb most of the impact. Again, the -Hai uses his weight and leaps forward as best he can at this new attacker, his axe low and chopping at Hasumund's thigh like a tree trunk...
Dalamar dodges aside Raktura, and manages to escape!
Dalamar heads south, down and away from the hills.
Dalamar has left.
Vishkaat attacks Hasumund with his Axe, but Hasumund parries the attack with his Battle Axe!
Llachhal curses as Grishnakh once again eludes him. He tries to pull his shield higher but find he can only lift it so far. The powerful blow from the orc's scimitar brushes past it, slicing down his right side, through armor and man both, leaving a deep cut from shoulder to mid-chest before Llachhal can pull away from it. He stumbles slightly on the blood-slick grass, then catches his balance and moves at the orc again, thrusting straight at his torso.
Llachhal attacks Grishnakh with his Longsword!...
...and he misses!
The first of the orcs facing Derkseez lets out a yell as the man's spear suddenly darts past his shield and lands deep in the flesh of his chest. As his black blood flows he howls and drops his scimitar, gripping the spear and shoving it out and back. The task becomes easier as his companion lands a deadly chop into Derkseez' side, and red blood flows heavier in the rain. The axe-wielding orc smiles cruelly as he hauls his bloodied axe back and up, preparing for the kill.
Raktura seeing the sword bite into the puny human, she grins wickedly as it bites deep into his chest. Wrenching it free she watches the human scramble into the brush, lifting up her chin she lets out a howl of victory, "AARROOOOoooo!" Then calls out to the human, "Runz whiteskinz, you notz go farz from Raktura!" she states as she stalks forward upon the bushes slashing through them with her sword.
Hasumund pulls his weapon back, twisting out of the way of the foul orc's own axe at the same time - and, by some luck, they slam into each other, and tangle for a moement, between the two fighters. Rather than trying to free up his weapon and strike again with it, he shoves forward - right knee slamming up, inbetween the orc's legs.
Hasumund unwields Battle Axe.
Hasumund attacks Vishkaat with his Bare Hands and mildly wounds him!
Hasumund wields Battle Axe.
Grishnakh seems to shrug Llachhal's counter-attack away, blocking the thrust with a twist of his wide shield as the powerful orc lopes ever closer, crowding the wounded man and slashing with quick low strokes. "Down, Tark," he growls in a pause. "Fall and learn fear. Do you still have the head of the Tark Ravenwyr? I wonder. Perhaps you'll tell me, in the Pits where _he_ first learned the Truth!" With that he lashes out again, his blade hammering against Llachhal's shield and sword, driving the taller man back as the orc slashes for his knees or hamstrings.
Derkseez falls backward, his side dyed red with blood, as the uruk heaves against him. Derkseez hits the ground with a *THUMP* while letting out a scream of agony. Seeing impending doom eminent, Derkseez attempts to trip the axe-wielding uruk with the long pole of his spear in a last-ditch effort to return to rohan in one piece.
Grishnakh attacks Llachhal with his Scimitar...
The attack against Llachhal terribly wounds him!
The blow is totally unexpected and Vishkaat's slitted eyes widen in pain. He nearly loses his grip on his weapon and staggers back several paces, trying to catch his breath. Panting, he spits at the human, "Youz pay fer dat, horse-boy, Iz split youz down da middle and leve you body fer da ravens ta pick! But Iz not do it now, Iz come back and let youz fear me fer dat time!" his axe whirls once or twice in his claw, but he still seems to be recovering, so he just stands there for a moment, and then, with another snarl, he turns and moves quickly to the river and begins splashing across it at a good clip.....
Derkseez' trick, simple as it is, works for now. As the uruk moves forward with axe raised he stumbles over the out-thrust spear. Catching his balance at the last moment before falling, he shouts a curse and turns again. Nearby, his wounded companion has recovered his scimitar. The two of them face Derkseez from scant yards away.
Vishkaat heads south, down and away from the hills.
Vishkaat has left.
Raktura taking note of the battle scene she spots a human pummeling at her companion. She flinches as she sees him get hit between the legs and grimaces slightly, yet snickers under her breath. As she watches him head off to the river she decides to follow only to glance over her shoulders at the remaining humans, she snarls at them, "Yez willz meetz ye final dayz soonz whiteskinz."
Raktura heads south, down and away from the hills.
Raktura has left.
The orc's blows drive Llachhal back, though he tries to hold out against them. He counters some of the blows with sheild and sword both, though the shield drops lower with every hit. As the scimitar swings as his leg, somone slams into him from behind, then is gone. But the damage is done and the scimitar slices into his thigh above the knee. Weakened by the other wounds, he slips backwards, falling with the force of the blow as the leg gives under him. He hits the ground on his back, losing the shield but managing to keep hold of the sword.
ARB: Llachhal has "passed" on his turn to attack.
Llachhal puts down Studded Leather Shield.
Grishnakh steps forward, crowing over the tall, fallen man. "So," he croons. "Not so mighty and quick after all, eh? Wise of you to fall, Tark. There's no need to die. Drop that blade and save yourself, if you will."
From South, Gramfyst cries out in a loud voice, eyes sweeping across the devastating losses of his men. "Men of the Mark! Fall back... while you can..."
A horn sounds from the pack of Gondorians still standing. As it does, two groups of tall men, in green cloaks go shooting into the fight. One set of 6 men, goes rushing towards Llachhal, but only two give attacks towards Grish, and then quickly fall away. the others grabbing llachhal and carrying him off. The other group of men scatters about the field as the men of the guard give one last rally against the front of the orcs, the men in green grabbing up their other fallen comrades. Woe for this day! It will be regretted in Gondor...
Grishnakh looks up at the sound of the Rohirrim shout. He scowls darkly on seeing only four of his great black uruks still standing. Then he curses softly and steadily. "They'll ride off, eh... ride off and escape, and only come north again to find us..." But then his thought is interrupted as a fresh pack of humans charges into view from the rain and mist. He shouts and snarls, warding off the attacks of the two who come nearest him and sending his sword in at the closest of them in a vicious riposte.
Llachhal heads south, down and away from the hills.
Llachhal has left.
Grishnakh is distracted long enough by the two green-clad men who attack him, though once their companions have fled with the bodies of the fallen they step back, wounded and wary.
From South, Gurgarath +shouts, "Return home to your people as a message, manling."
Derkseez heads south, down and away from the hills.
Derkseez has left.
Hasumund retreats with the rest of the Rohirrim and Gondorians, leaving his by-now dead horse behind.
Hasumund heads south, down and away from the hills.
Hasumund has left.
You head south, down and away from the falls.
West Bank of the Anduin, Below Rauros Falls
Near to the north, the roar of Rauros Falls can be heard. All along the northern horizon, the escarpment that marks the southern edge of the Emyn Muil rises up and spreads to the east and west, and the great falls plummit down directly north of you. To the west and south, the rolling, cool and damp plains of eastern Rohan sprall. The great river Anduin, just to your east, runs in almost a pure north-south orientation. Across it, there lays a brief beach and then the great Nindalf marsh and northern Ithilien.
Around you, the autumn early afternoon is cool, misty. The river flows by, swift and deep. A path leads northward towards Rauros Falls, another heads out onto the plains before disappearing, and a beaten area leads up to the water's edge--apparently this is a sometimes-used fording spot.
The day sky still dumps copious amounts of rain down onto you.
Contents:
Obvious exits:
Grishnakh comes trotting southward at last, coming into view in the ever-present downpour of drenching rain. Only three remain of the twelve large black uruks who had run northward with him earlier in the morning.
Gurgarath laughs darkly as he turns away, and stalks through the battlefield, crushing the dead and dieing beneath his huge toeless feet. His black eyed gaze locks upon a single unfortunate target, that of Kylier. Ponderous steps carry the blood drenched troll ever closer, his buckler is extended to meet an attack, while his hammer, stained red, and flecked with chips of bone, is raised to strike.
Gramfyst takes off Studded Leather Shield.
Troglaaz laughs harshly as he raises the scimitar overhead once more, his dark eyes set squarely on the human's mud-spattered face. A sudden attack from his side knocks him nearly to the ground, and he spins about to face Kylier, his face contorted in pain and rage. "Run to your home, whiteskin!" He snarls, his right arm slashing forward to strike at the Rohirrim's right side.
Kylier takes his eys off the battle as he tries to get Gram
Troglaaz attacks Kylier with his Scimitar, but he misses by a handspan.
Kylier hears a swish near his head, the .... he still continues to grab at Gram whith his left hand, his right holds his sword, but still he moves to take gram, which is done
Some ways off a shinning black steed turns in slow circles. Sadly her rider lays face down on the ground, his foot twisted and stuck in a stirrup he is drug behind her. An outstretched arm leaving a small trail of blood from where the bone juts through his skin. Dirt sticks to the blood that covers his face, and it still seeps from beneath his helm.
Gurgarath heaves his hammer backwards, aiming a creul strike towards the arm of Kylier, who inexplicably has turned away from the battle, and the advancing mountain of flesh.
Gurgarath attacks Kylier with his War Hammer and badly wounds him!
Hasumund runs south, as though he's being chased by orcs. And, indeed, he is - for Grishnakh's group isn't far behind. One of the last of the retreating Rohirrim, his delay is shown by the longsword and shield carried awkwardly in his arms, along with the axe he was fighting with... desperately, he runs, trying to avoid any more conflict - but, as he spies the fight centered around Gramfyst, the man pauses, obviously torn between fleeing or staying.
Kylier takes the blow on his arm that grabs Gram. he strikes out whit his sword, a bit of blood shows
Kylier attacks Gurgarath with his Longsword, but Gurgarath parries the attack with his shield!
Troglaaz growls from behind his helmet's facemask, his jaw setting in grim determination as he rushes forward to attack the human once more. Spotting the towering figure of gurgarath as the troll attacks Kylier, Troglaaz backs off swiftly to allow the great hammer clear passage. As Kylier strikes out towards Gurgarath, the Uruk-hai darts in once more, swinging the scimitar to strike the Rohirrim's weapon arm.
Troglaaz attacks Kylier with his Scimitar, but he misses by an arm's length.
Kylier as he moved, still not releasing Gram he brings his sword up to the attack of trog, his sword sweaps upwards to his belly
Gurgarath's shield bats down, turning Kylier's strike aside easily. Again his great hammer rises high into the air, and then hurtles downward towards the human's skull as it stands to fight.
Gurgarath attacks Kylier with his War Hammer, but Kylier parries the attack with his Longsword!
Kylier attacks Gurgarath with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.
Kylier as the blade misses him he draggs Gram away from the fight, his sword now just for protection
Gurgarath heaves his hammer forward with a harsh cry as he persues the human, who is slowed down by the wieght of his fallen comrade.
Gurgarath attacks Kylier with his War Hammer and severely wounds him!
Troglaaz barks out in frustration, springing forward as he attempts to circle the human. His eyes flash in anger as he swipes downwards with the blade of his scimitar, aiming not for Kylier, but for the unconscious Rohirrim in his arms.
Troglaaz attacks Gramfyst with his Scimitar, but Gramfyst parries the attack with his Longsword!
Kylier takes a blow, his grip loosens on Gram but still he hold on: he swings his sword quickly
Gramfyst unwields Gramfyst's Longsword.
Kylier attacks Troglaaz with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!
Troglaaz darts towards Kylier's left side, his body turning to avoid the human's strike, which glances lightly off his left forearm. Spitting angrily towards the Rohirrim, he rushes forward once more and hacks downwards at the fallen warrior's neck and shoulders.
Gramfyst collapses to the ground, defeated by Troglaaz!
Hasumund hesitates a moment longer, enough to see that Kylier appears to be managing the troll and a orc by himself. Or rather, appeared, for Gurgurath's last blow looks like one that a person is lucky to survive. Frantically, he looks about, and spots a horse, standing over the hacked body of it's former rider. Not bothering to figure out how it lived, the messenger runs to, clambering into the saddle, and stowing his extra gear by sticking the sword through the shield's handle and on through a metal ring on the saddle. Then, he spurs the animal towards Kylier, shouting "Get ready to lift the Maegisterwigend up behind me!" Axe in hand, he seems ready to hold off the troll for a few moments, at least.
Mihtigwine, bearing Eolan saunters in from the west.
Mihtigwine, bearing Eolan has arrived.
Gurgarath rains blow after blow down upon the foolish human: hopelessly outnumbered as it attempts to rescue it's comrade from certain death. The Troll's hammer sweeps out in a horizontal arc towards Kylier's helmed head.
Kylier collapses to the ground, defeated by Gurgarath!
Kylier's shield "Studded Leather Shield" falls to the ground...
Kylier's weapon "Longsword" falls to the ground...
As the troll swings and fells Kylier, Hasumund reins in his new steed, sensing the futility of trying to make a rescue when both rescuees have a large and powerful troll looming over them.
Kylier drops the dead rider and quickly makes his way to his horse, his fighting is done
Gurgarath lumbers past the fallen body of Kylier, his huge toeless feet leaving prints nearly three feet long in his wake. The Troll's gaze is focused towards the north, and that is where his long strides carry him, through the mud and bodies.
Gramfyst lies very still and bleeds quietly, so as to not be noticed.
Grishnakh looks across the carnage with tired eyes. He is drenched, as he has been for hours, and bloodied, though very little of the blood is his. A handful of big orcs of Barad-dur stand nearby, watching the other orcs collect themselves about the scene of battle.
Grishnakh finally lifts his sword and calls out across the field, his voice carrying faintly in the constant muting downpour. "Gather up the dead, uruks! Gather them quick, then back to the north with us! No time to dawdle or rest! Move!"
About 100 yards away from the main frey, Ransul's limp body is slowly being drug through the mud, his boot jammed and stuck in his stirrup. The mare trods slowly through the rain as if she knew she was his only and last hope.
Eolan rides at a gallop from the west. He spots a downed rider and veers towards him, reigning in as he arrives. He jumps from his mount and kneels next to the rider, realesing his limp foot from the stirrup as he does. He picks Ransul up and lays him over the back of the mare, then looks toward the field.
The orcs, many of them wounded and all of them grumbling from fatigue, drenched with the rain, and frustrated in their hunger at the prospect of leaving fresh meat behind, begin to gather around Grishnakh, leaving several humans dead or dying in the muck along with many horses. At least a dozen orcs remain motionless in the mud as well, as the orcs take up the all-too-familiar stride. The jog sloshing through the rain, soon to disappear into the mists to the north.
Gurgarath's long strides carry him to the north, following a good distance behind the fleeing Orkish army.
Kylier lays in the mud, his hand still grasp's Gram's shirt
Name Gender Species Who Combat Type
---------------- ------ --------- --- ------------- ----------------------
Grishnakh Male Uruk-Hai IC ARMED PLAYER (0s idle)
Derkseez Male Human IC unarmed PLAYER (5s idle)
Dalamar Male Human IC ARMED PLAYER (26s idle)
Vishkaat Male Uruk-Hai IC unarmed PLAYER (36s idle)
Raktura Female Uruk-Hai IC unarmed PLAYER (1m idle)
Ransul Male Human IC ARMED PLAYER (1m idle)
Hasumund Male Arauruk . IC ARMED PLAYER (49s idle)
Llachhal Male Human IC ARMED PLAYER (1m idle)
Byringlor Male Human IC ARMED PLAYER (4m idle)
---------------- ------ --------- --- ------------- ----------------------
Hasumund
Ransul
Kylier
Gramfyst
Gurgarath
Troglaaz
North, Fords of the Anduin, and West