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A Smell of Rosemary

Tags: Bruug,  Sulgirion,  Hraefengar,  Nurenhir,  Penniavas,  Ollie

Short Summary: A search for a lost wolfhound leads to the discovery of something else, and it is clawed and rather not as cuddly.
Date (real-life): 2010-04-15
Scene Location: Troll Shaws
Time of Day: night
Weather: overcast, chilly

 

[Sulgirion(#16643)]
The chill of early autumn is upon the air, but the night is fairly still, no wind to bend bough or rustle deadening leaves. The moon is blotted out by thick grey clouds that threaten rain.

A sharp crushing sound drifts amid trunks deeper in the shade woods of the Shaws; it is a small dark shape, trodding along over foliage and picking a way through undergrowth. Bruug is hunting perhaps, for a scimitar is gripped at his side, though not yet drawn.


[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
A slender figure, wrapped in a dark cloak, traverses beneath the shaded trees. Though most of the moon and starlight is shrouded by stormclouds, Nurenhir needs no lantern or brand to light his way -- perhaps having been warned by previous experiences with those who hunt flesh at night ...

The Elf is hunting as well, for the sheath of a long knife is held tightly in one hand. His gaze is fixed intently on the undergrowth as he moves, looking ... there! He crouches, brushing aside an errant tress, and begins to harvest his find. The sweet smell of rosemary permeates the air.


[Hraefengar(#30729)] A third figure walks in the night: the Man Hraefengar, limping slowly through the woods, leaning on his spear. "Hund, Hund!" he calls softly. The dog usually present at his side is absent. He tilts his head, listening, then calls again.


[Sulgirion(#16643)]
Unlike the Elf, the goblin does not hunt plants, but rather something bigger and tastier in his opinion. "Bunnies, and boars," Bruug croons to himself in twistes Westron, humming some sort of dreadul tune, "and something mores..."

There is movement in the forest close at hand, and the orc freezes, crouching low to the ground. Slowly he moves to unsheath his blade; a sweet smell is coming from that direction, and the creature wrinkles his nose in disgust. Crimson eyes stare intently through the gloom, but all too swiftly is their scrutiny disturbed. The human calls make his ears twitch, and as a result Bruug flattens himself further into the underbrush.


[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
Nurenhir raises his head, a name called upon the air. "Master Hraefengar?" he queries softly of the darkness, though he does not move from his herb-gathering spot. "You ought to be abed. What are you seeking?" His voice is mildly scolding, if in worry.


[Hraefengar(#30729)]
"Not what, who. My dog, Hund. She is out... somewhere. It is not like her. She..." Hraefengar stumbles a little, his leg faltering a little. "She guards me when I am... as I was the other night. And other things." He rubs at the back of his neck, then sighs. "So I owe it to her to find her."


[Penniavas(#24815)]
        The sounds of speaking nearby has aroused another. Penniavas, the young elf man peers out of his tent, before crawling forth to his bare feet. Shoes go on, despite the cool of the leather and he stands, eyes darting back and forth to seek those who may be speaking.


[Sulgirion(#16643)]
Now there are two voices, one coming from the rustling spot directly in front of him, and the second from somewhere behind. Bruug shifts his movements, carefully creeping sideways to a nearby tree where he proceeds to hide behind. "Leaf-ears, and Mens...and dogs?" the orc mutters to himself, drooling a bit happily. He dares a few peeks from his shelter, and grimaces as a twig snaps under one of his clawed feet.


[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
"She is not within the walls?" Nurenhir's hand, clasping a handful of the fragrant herb, disappears into his satchel. "If you wish it ... I will search with you. There is much danger in this forest." Frowning suddenly, the Elf moves ahead, a little closer to where Bruug -- and perhaps the twig-snap -- was heard.


[Hraefengar(#30729)]
"Indeed there is. And I cannot go much further, whether I will or no. Hund!" Again Hraefengar calls for the dog, though his eyes glitter at the sound of the snapping twig. "Hund?" He limps forwards, coming up beside the elf. He sniffs the air, his eyes narrowing. "Perhaps a badger... I hope not another boar."


[Penniavas(#24815)]
        "Nurenhir? " Penniavas voice comes. For once, only a single word spoken. He notes the lack of said Elf and frowned, now pulling on his cloak. Perhaps overly worried he glances about the ground, and soon was on the trail.He moved quietly, though mostly to not disturb others or startle them, but not fully quiet as he rustles along, biting his lip.


[Sulgirion(#16643)]
The small orc stiffles a hiss as the human and Elves come closer, and he tries to inch around to the opposite side of his tree. The scimitar is fingered beneath dirty claws. Bruug's breathing comes in short pants, excitement evdident upon his twisted face as he considers the meal he might enjoy if he is lucky enough to smite one of the trio. He cuts off another sqeal of glee, though it is not quelled as fully.


[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
Nurenhir tilts his head, a strange smile coming upon his lips. "I do not think this is your dog, lord," the Elf whispers, fingers wrapping about the handle of his blade. "Rest a moment -- I will go see. Ah, and there is my kinsman behind us."

The steward approaches the tree cautiously, dagger in hand -- although he is not so masterful a warrior that his flank is not open...


[Hraefengar(#30729)]
"No, not my dog, nor anyone's dog." Hraefengar stiffens, shaking his head. "Be careful. It is not wary enough, but..." He allows the elf to move ahead of him, but he moves forwards as well, his left leg dragging a little, his spear brought around to a thrusting position.


Penniavas narrows his eyes as he spots the others, his form slowing a little. No warrior was he, but he could fight if need be after all. He falls further silent, moving quieter and closer to the ground until near the human and other one. He bit his lip hard, looking about to burst out.


[Sulgirion(#16643)]
Bruug risks one final peek out from behind his gnarled bole -- and immediately startles as he finds three shapes rather too close for comfort. Nurenhir is foremost, and thusly the orc's scimitar is brandished threateningly in his direction. He backs away slightly, seeking a better vantage point on the uneven forest floor. The creature's crimson eyes flicker to regard the other two, as if sizing them up. Hraefengar's limp does not go unnoticed...


[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
"Your success in the kill has drawn others to you, lord, though I wish it were not so." Nurenhir's eyes widen, and he darts away from the scimitar that is suddenly brandished. His slender form stiffens against the appearance of an enemy, and his arm lashes out defensively, still holding the blade -- whether it connects or not may depend on the small orc's ducking ability.


[Hraefengar(#30729)]
The Rohir nods his head, and he takes up a flanking position, studying the orc as closely as he can in the dark, though his eyes are not made for it. "Cry out, little orc, and I'll feed you what dangles near your waist in blood sauce," he cautions. An almost apologetic smile is given the elf steward. He holds his spear at the ready, keeping himself as steady as he can in spite of the leg injury.


[Penniavas(#24815)] Moments after the others react so does Penniavas "Ork!" he hisses, unneededly as his own knife was drawn. He glances though, the other way - keeping an eye out for other such creatures, a slight chill going down his back at the thought of others.


[Sulgirion(#16643)]
Alas, for the orc is not as quick on his feet as his size would imply. A pained snarl comes as the Steward's knife flies across his poorly clad shoulder, ripping leather easily and striking into the skin beneath. Another pace back, and Bruug's gaze darts from Elf, to Man, to second Elf, and back again. "I's think not," he growls in foul breath to the Rohir. "I's just wantsa bite, and then I's goes away..." He dithers but a moment, before darting forward, his curved blade seeking to strike Nurenhir aside. Foolishly perhaps, he seems to have decided that the two in the rear will prove easier targets.


[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
A thin cloak and robe do little to stop the scimitar, which strikes Nurenhir soundly in the flank. The Elf stumbles back, an arm pressed to the wound, though he does not cry out for fear of attracting larger 'bite'-seekers ... He grasps dagger once more, following closely behind the small orc.


[Hraefengar(#30729)] Hraefengar shakes his head, and he comes closer, slipping around the tree. "I'll give you something that bites, then," he growls, and he thrusts his spear forwards and down towards the orc's belly. A glance goes towards Nurenhir, but almost all of the once-Rider's attention remains on the enemy.


[Penniavas(#24815)] An angry cry comes from Penniavas as well, his own form turning about quickly. His eyes flash in anger, but his blade is stayed - allowing the Rider to do the deed, but his own remained ready "Nurenhir!"


[Sulgirion(#16643)]
Feet and momentum do little to stop Bruug from toppling as the spear thrusts outward, and he falls with a cry that sounds suspiciously like, "Nasty bites, like fleas and mites!" He claws at the stomach wound, black seeping between fingers to grace the grass. Nurnehir is behind, but the orc is more interested in the one with the troubled step. "I's gets you's laters," is all he says to Penniavas and the steward; then the uruk-blade flings out for the Rohir's weaker leg.


[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
"No," says Nurenhir calmly, coming swiftly up towards the back of the orc. The dagger flashes again, seeking to bite Bruug's turned back. His dark eyes glance sharply towards Penniavas, perhaps commanding him to move away, aside from the reach of danger.


[Hraefengar(#30729)]
The orc's slash is not the strongest or the deepest, but it is accurate. The blade slashes through leggings and bandage, and blood begins to seep from the re-opened wound. Hraefengar gasps, then staggers, clamping his teeth together. He does not cry out either, though, and he backs up against a tree-trunk to hold him steady and standing. He brings his spear up again, ready to thrust deep into orc-flesh.


[Penniavas(#24815)] That look is met... and hesitation occurs. He does though, move back a little and to one side, remaining torn it seems between helping them, and retreating fully. Finally though, he bolts, and in a blurr is at the camp, and to the guards there "Ork! There are ork nearby!"


[Sulgirion(#16643)]
The orc's grimy little face lights up with delight as his blade hits, and he pulls away to get a better shot; but this lands him smack in the path of Nurenhir. The elven dagger sails true, cutting deeply as Bruug moves into it. He spins around amid a new hiss, swinging wildly with his weapon to elven side. But there is a moment in which he looks away to catch the second Elf's retreat as he goes to get aid..it is a small lapse of time and ill focus, but perhaps enough for Nurenhir to dodge.


[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
The wounded Elf's eyes are bright with pain, and he stumbles aside to dodge the scimitar. But Nurenhir's cloak-draped arm flings out at the distracted orc, attempting to entangle the flying blade in its gossamer depth.


[Hraefengar(#30729)]
The orc's distraction is enough for Hraefengar, and he shifts forwards, putting all his weight on his right leg and twisting to stab again at the orc with the spear. He aims carefully, experience in battle evident in the strike, though fate determines much as well as skill. The blood still streams from the leg-wound, though, where the boar's tusk gored him. His thin frame trembles, but he shakes his head. "You're hurt. Get back," he says to the wounded elf in hushed Sindarin.


[Penniavas(#24815)] Soon Penniavas was on his way back, flying ahead of the guards that were making their way. The elf had his bow and arrows now, having strung the first and taken up the second at camp as he returns to the spot, slowing down a distance away while one hand knocked an arrow with practiced ease.


[Sulgirion(#16643)]
Suddenly, there is a flash of fabric, and the faint sound of metal clattering upon root. The orc blinks, doing a swift doubletake at his now weaponless hand. The awful Sindarin that flows from behind is enough to make his gaze glance once more in that direction -- just in time to see the oncoming head of the spear. The creature attempts to twist away, but wins a fresh line of black blood across his upper arm. The second claw flies upward to clucth at the new wound.

"Eeh, I's not so hungries no more..." Bruug mumbles, having caught sight of Penniavas and the following guards he has returned with. He tries vainly to slip through the Steward and the Rohir.


[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
Amid the commotion, the whisper of cloth and shadow, the orc somehow slips away from Nurenhir's reach, and he frowns. "Speak for yourself," he replies to Hraefengar. A dark stain begins to spread from beneath his cloak, and the Elf gropes suddenly for a support. "Your dog ... she was not here."


[Hraefengar(#30729)]
Hraefengar takes a hop-step away from the tree, putting scant weight on the wounded leg. His eyes glitter, and his jaw is set. "You shall not have him, not here, not now. By Helm and by Bema you shall not." His spear is up again, and Hraefengar thrusts it forwards again, this time aiming to stab the orc through the throat.


[Penniavas(#24815)]
        Eyes bright at the sight of the two wounded, Penniavas looses his first arrow at the Ork a moment before Hraefengar attacks again. He draws another arrow before even seeing if the first one hit, knocking it and pulling back to fire the moment he had a clear shot.


[Sulgirion(#16643)]
The raining arrows only serve to make the impish monster scramble for safety faster, and with desperation. Alas, for never shall he find it.

The spear strikes sure, guided by a hand long practiced in its usage. There is a gurgling wail, and for an instant Bruug's fingers inch upward as if he would pry the shaft from his neck. But they fall limp, and he moves no more. He is now a dead weight tugging down the weapon's tip.


[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
Crouched against a tree, Nurenhir watches the small orc die, his blood dark and face stark white. "Do you think he had companions?" the Elf queries softly of the Rohir with the spear, searching for the Man's shape with a widened gaze.


[Penniavas(#24815)] The arrow remains drawn, and Penniavas stalks forwards, before lowering the tip a little, puffing slightly, glancing from one to the other "I've brought the Guards in case he tries to come back. You're both bleeding! Others? I dont know really... if so we should not be out here long alone. We should return to the camp so your wounds can be tended to..." he inhales to continue, obviously catching up on his earlier silence lest someone interrupt him.


[Hraefengar(#30729)]
"Most likely," answers Hraefengar, his own voice soft, strained. He yanks his spear from out of the orc's neck, and stabs it into the ground to clean it. He drops to one knee, then, his breathing some ragged, and he leans against his spear.

There is another rustling in the trees, but this time it is the grey-coated wolfhound. She is covered with burrs, and smells a bit of skunk. The Rohir glances at the younger, unknown elf. "I cannot walk. I do not know that Hir Nurenhir should."


[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
"I am well," assures the other Elf, leaning upon a twisted oak for support, though his voice is hollow. Nurenhir holds out a cloaked arm to Hraefengar. "It was fortunate that you brought us aid, Penniavas, though I pray you have not roused the entire camp. The villagers would be frightened."


[Hraefengar(#30729)]
"You do not look well," snorts Hraefengar, though he sinks down, sitting, pressing his hand against his leg to staunch the bleeding. He looks at the dog, gives a sad laugh. "Well.... I do not know but that she found a worse foe."

[Ollie(#15066)] A great sniffing and snuffling breaks in on the conversation. Whatever is making that strange noise seems to be still hidden among the trees - for now...


[Penniavas(#24815)] "I uh... tried to tell just the guards, but I think I may have been a little loud." Admits the Elf, moving to help the Rider, as he seemed worse off. He held his bow in his other hand "They did some shouting though, so its not ALL my fault " he notes. He was about to continue whe he goes utterly still, face paling a shade at those sounds.


[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
Nurenhir smiles a little, slightly crestfallen to find that his gathered herbs have been ruined. "There are weapons for that enemy; the rochdur calls it a brush," he replies faintly. "Come..."

The elven steward turns ghost-pale at the large, hidden sound, and he reaches out with a bloodied hand to try and hurry the others back to the village. "Something else this way comes. Go now!" The sweet scent of rosemary is mingled with the rank smell of blood: orcish, human, and elven.


[Hraefengar(#30729)]
Hraefengar's head snaps up at the sound, and he shudders, rising to his knees. The dog beside him growls, her hackles bristling. The scop tries to rise, but his left leg will take no weight. He begins to crawl towards the village, determination on his face.


[Ollie(#15066)] Sniff. Sniff. Sniff.
CRACK.
These most ominous sounds are followed by a deep rhythmic trembling in the earth, as of something very heavy thudding up and down.


[Penniavas(#24815)] Going a little paler at the loud noise, PEnniavas kneels, his bow in his other hand as he offers the Rider an arm up "Where are the guards? They need be careful now." he whispers across to Nurenhir, body wired in alarm.


[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
"It won't follow us within the walls," assures Nurenhir, although a wild-eyed glance behind him into the darkness might present his doubts. "Quickly, now." Before he follows, stooped in pain, the Elf tosses a handful of bloodied rosemary behind him, hoping that the herbal smell might distract the Ominous Creature from the taste of blood in the air. It scatters near the speared body of Bruug -- a pitiful floral display for the fallen orc.


[Hraefengar(#30729)]
Hraefengar staggers to his feet, leaning on the elf, then falls again, his leg buckling. He shakes his head, dragging himself forwards a little, then looks back. "Cannot. Need someone to drag me... or leave me. I'll be distraction enough, if you must."
 

[Ollie(#15066)] "FEE FIE FO FUM!" came a deep rumbling voice, uplifted in song. And what a song it is, too! There is even almost a tune! "I SMELLS BLOOD, I DOES!" Closer than before, another tree splinters into kindling - it got in Oliver's way, always a bad thing to do. There - in the darkness among the trees is a deeper darkness. One that moves.
 

[Penniavas(#24815)]
Penniavas lets off the tiniest of squeaks, trying to support Hraefengar as he shook his head "We cannot do that." he states simply, working to try and drag the man instead. He looks over at Nurenhir "If I stay hidden... far away, maybe I can lure him in another direction with noise? "
 

[Nurenhir(#14756)]
Nurenhir lifts his chin, regarding Hraefengar with a steel-bound stare. "Then we shall drag you. Penniavas, what if he found you? Help me support Master Hraefengar -- he might hold to my shoulders, and you ensure that his leg does not reach the ground ..." Quickly, he takes a glance back: a tree bursts into splinters, and the Elf takes a sharp breath, swaying for a moment with fear.
 

[Hraefengar(#30729)]
"Get one of the guards," says Hraefengar, shaking his head. He does his best to push himself forwards as he is dragged, but the blood is soaking his leggings now, and his face is very pale. "Else just go!"
 

[Ollie(#15066)] Behind them, Oliver crashes into the open. He stands for a moment, his head lifted up as he snuffles the air, loudly and carefully - a connoisseur of the night! Small black eyes, search the area, landing first on the fleeing elves and man - they are moving after all. And he grunts with satisfaction, taking a step after them... and then he stops, a strange expression coming over his face. He peers down at the ground, then lifts one foot and tries to examine the toes. "Squishy.."
 

[Penniavas(#24815)]
Penniavas pulls one last time, then reluctantly lets go, to turn and bolt sideways into the woods again with his bow, to seeek out one of the guardsmen, no doubt cowering somewhere. His ears remained alert though, lest a cry of alarm come his way.
 

[Nurenhir(#14756)]
Nurenhir's eyes flicker with desperation, yet by himself he cannot support the weight of the wounded Rohir. He pauses, fumbling a moment with the blood-slippery dagger; then, staggering, turns his carefully schooled mien towards Oliver Troll. But ... Ollie has stopped approaching?
 

[Hraefengar(#30729)]
Hraefengar tries to stand once more, so that the elves will not be forced to stay. He sways a moment, then swoons, collapsing on the ground limply, his spear rolling from unfeeling fingers.
 

[Ollie(#15066)] That smells familiar... and there is something new there, too. The troll's vast forehead wrinkles into lines of perplexity. Still attempting to balance on one leg, he reaches down and sticks a finger between his toes. Uh oh. The mighty form of Oliver sways, leans, and as slowly and majestically as some great towering tree-lord, falls.
 

[Penniavas(#24815)]
An archer, expression of concern covered by a hood, approaches Penniavas, his bow strung but without a nocked arrow. "There were orcs?" he asks quietly.
 
Penniavas slows as he hears the crash in the woods, focusing on the Archer as he nods "There was, but they are gone. A man has been wounded and we need help lifting him. Come with me.' he notes, turning to lead the Archer there, hoping the man would follow as he slinks, zigzagging through the woods back to where he left Nurenhir and Hraefengar
 

[Nurenhir(#14756)]
Nurenhir is braced for the worst, nigh overwhelmed by dread and the gore seeping from the gash -- but then, without warning, Ollie topples. The Elf says no word, but darts back to the swooned Rohir, and exchanging a glance with the Bree-man archer, they do their best to haul Hraefengar back within the walls.
 
Behind them, the night and darker night remain -- air redolent with blood and cooking-herbs.

 


Date added: 2010-04-16 11:52:11    Hits: 75
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