(Archive) Blood on Emyn Arnen

Wincing as Duilin laughs out loud and exclaims enthusiastically, Dorionn immediately puts his helmet on, as if expecting to be shot by an arrow any moment. "Could you possibly yell a little louder for the benefit of their archers, just in case orcish hearing borders on deaf?" he asks Duilin sarcastically, keeping his own voice lowered.

Spatnaz nods to the Dushgoi Tek'Rak Gurg and growls, "Lets get this mess of defects and lackwit snagas to work."

Gurg nods sharply towards Spatnaz, and raises his axe. In a sharp hiss, he communicates to those behind him, "You heard the Teguk... fan out, find the maggots, and gut 'em!" With that, he begins to tromp onward, not attempting to hide the fact, assuming that Spatnaz will follow at his side.

Knocking his bow, Duilin nods, "Then let us break, should I cause you more danger." With that, he sends his steed off into the night, back towards the camp. Soon, there is no sign of the Man of Morthond.

Degiaras grumbles and draws forth his sword, and wanders over to his horse to grab his helm from his gear. He puts it on, and then looks around, "Where to now sir?" he asks.

A sound, a noise, something foriegn to the camp, a voice not Uruk catches the ear of the veteran Scout turned Shaman, Spatnaz, and he freezes in his tracks with one hand outstretched about to backslap the Tek'Rak. Quietly, he listens to the darkness, shutting out the clamor of noisy uruks around him.

"Wait, Duilin!" Morrandir hisses, but it is too late. The lordling has left. "Damn him..." the Knight mutters. "The one decent swordsman among us, and he runs away at the first sign of danger..."

Gurg stops as indicated, his head bowed slightly, mighty Axe held in his hand. His eyes stare towards the ground as he stands motionless, ears perked.

Relaxed, Ouurgrat sighs and marches foward under the Tak'Rak's banner. "If there are tarks," he points out, "Perhaps they have treasure with them."

Grinning still, Shrag'kai pushes forward, " Alright, Pulgor. Move up. File westward, the push on!" The X-Shaman yells over his shoulder, as he tosses his battle axe from hand to hand. His tongue not being that of the common, but the slurred and rough speech of the breed.

Serendur is even more surprised at the disappearance of Duilin. Still, he stands his ground, glancing around and wishing to himself that the lordling had dropped his sword...the unarmed page might have used it at the very least. Better than nothing at all.

Olorg pans out with the Troll and says, "So tall guy, see anything?" The scout keeps his bow pulled back, waiting for a target. "Tark.... tark.... where be the tark."

"Hardly a man at all, I would say," Findon mutters, letting his hand fall to the hilts. "Morrandir," He say then -- quietly, one might add --"If I at all know any of the foul creatures of the dark land, they may know that we are here."

"And they will find us."

"What, is he that good?" asks Dorionn quietly, looking rather dubious at Morrandir's assessment of the Morthond Lordling, "In any case, if you think our chances so poor, we should leave now. Lingering here serves no purpose and places us all in danger." Turning about, Dorionn unhooks a hunting knife from his belt and offers it to Serendur. "Take this, just in case," he says to the page quietly, "If we get into close combat, try to stay behind us or run. Otherwise, stay near me, and I'll try to keep you safe if I can."

Spatnaz quietly whispers from the side of his mouth, "A horse, Gurg, I heard the jingle of a knight's harness and the gallop of a horse... going away..." Pointing into the darkness, he continues, "Tarks in the night, that direction, lets get some Dogs to circle them in case they have archers."

Globhosh complied with an obvious glee, taking to the hunt with great haste -- both his axe and shield were readied as Wyrr was spurred on. Instinct and practice showed within the warg's movement, for the two flitted through the shadows with nigh a sign of their presence, a marriage of masterful riding and a beast bred for such travel.

Finishing his drink, the troll casts aside the pelt. A belch echoes amongst the eastern mountains as the troll releases his gas. "Ohrmrph... Now 'em hungery," Kog mutters, peering to Olorg next to him. He peers at Olorg for a moment, before leaning towards him and shouting: "HUUUNGERY!" His foul, alcoholic breath wavering over Olorg. He shouts like a child in a tantrum, demanding something. Yet, as soon as Olorg question sinks in, the Troll simply switches his moods. Perking up, the lazy-eyed troll peers around, sniffing at the air. "Nar.. Nur... Nudin'".

"No, we stay," Morrandir commands.

"We wish to meet Lord Faramir's men, do we not?" His one-eyed gaze flicks across the squires before him. "Well what better to attract them than the sounds of war?"

Nodding toward Shrag'kai, Tarnak squints into the darkness, seeking signs of the enemy before he signals a march to the west as ordered. Held above him, his banner acts as the head of a snake that slithers to the west, the sound of metal shod boots filling the air despite any attempt at silence. The war axe he carries swings with his stride.. hissing.

Croaker comes jogging from the rear of the orc-company, loping along in a rolling, heavy gait and squinting into the shadows of the hills. He snarls softly as his boot snags in a tangle of undergrowth, then yanks it free and moves on, moving close to the foul banner of Minas Morgul.

Gurg raises his axe, circles it above his head, and makes a chopping noise in the direction indicated by Spatnaz. Immediatly, a group of half a dozen uruk warriors assmeble around him, and they begin marching off, scanning the area ahead.

Serendur nods at Dorionn, a wan smile on his face. It is an earnest expression of thanks in the midst of this tense situation. The page takes the knife and nods as well, speaking for the first time in a hushed tone. "I'll do that." A good thing is the familiarity with which he grasps the dirk at least he knows how to use it. Not that it is very hard anyway.

Kraknag Darts forward and begins to scan the area, sniffing and glancing around for any sign of a Tark. He nervously clutches his makeshift weapons.

The Isilrim kneels for a moment and mutters something to the ground, before rising slowly and looking about the woods that are becomming more and more full with the sounds of fell creatures. He glances to his Knight, and then Dorionn and Findon, and mutters, "They shall rue the day they crossed the Wolfsbane and his men."

Shaking his head, Daeros sighs and draws his sword with a whisper of steel. "You sound almost eager, Sir Morrandir," he comments wryly as he removes his cloak with his free hand. Stuffing it into a saddlebag, he swings his sword once, adjusting his grip until the sword rests there comfortably. 5r

Due to the Troll's incredibly loud voice and foul breath, Olorg nearly passes out. When he recovers he says, "Good job Troll, I'm sure every tark within 10 nights travel is coming after us now." The orc stands and continues to wait for some sign of movement.

Growling, Ashnak watches the foliage for signs of life that he finds offensive, and shoots an arrow at the first sign of of rustling. The arrow wizzes dangerously close to a nearby snaga, who nearly faints dead away, and keeps going, imbedding itself in a tree some 30 yards away.

Frownign towards the advance of the Dushgob, Shragk'kai curses under his breath, then turns towards the line of Orcs to his west and half yells, "Push forward, quicker. Keep your eyes peeled save the Dushgoi get there first and take a bigger kill!" He points his axe in the direction where the Morgul Teguk had indicated.

His eyes widening with alarm as a loud bellow of 'Huuuungery!' can be heard echoing through the hills, Dorionn says, "Sir, that was no orc. But something larger. Surely..." He stops himself then, and just nods in acceptance of Morrandir's command. "As you say, sir," he says quietly before gesturing for Serendur to join him as he fans out a bit, trying to keep in cover without making much noise.

A half-smile -- If even that -- fleet across the Blue Squire's, Findon's, pale visage. Although, it is not of mirth but rather from some amusement stirred by the Swan Knight's words. "True, sir knight." And then, his sword is drawn forth and Findon does not attempt to hide the rasping of steel and sheath -- It seem almost loud in this hushed silence.

"Then let us not wait any longer."

"Me? Eager?" Morrandir blinks incredulously. "Never..." The Knight nearly jumps out of his skin at the booming of the olog.

"That... that was no orc..." he mutters, unslinging the shield from his back. "Perhaps a tactical retreat would not be such a bad idea..."

At that sound, Gurg pauses, straightening up. He raises his hand, calling out firmly and softly, "Halt!". His dark brown eyes stare forward, his hands tightening about his axe. "Hear ye anything, Shaman?"

From afar (to Croaker and Spatnaz), Gurg has to go in 30 minutes.

Spatnaz quietly whispers to Gurg, "Yes, Tek'Rak. Voices in the dark. Unmistakable. Tark voices," as he points into the blackness.

Moving forward, Kraknag asks Grug, "Sir, what should the other snaga and I do?"

"Le'em coom," The troll grunts, "I'll take 'em all. Kog snarls, looking around, slobering like a dog. The bohemoth lumbers on, his knuckles grazing the ground as he moves along, his rather disformed face creasing as he sniffs at the air. "Arr, me blinkers can't see nudin'.. Wot aboot ye, maggotsie?" The troll grunts, peering back down at Olorg for a moment.

Frowning, Ouurgrat follows Gurg closely, not eager to loose his way in this strange land. He nods, awkwardly drawing his scimitar from his belt loop with a loud CLANG. "Very well, Tek'Rak, but do not lead us wrong. Remember well that you've a half-ton of orcish steel pointed at your back."

Spatnaz takes a knee and motions Kraknag to join him closely and smiles.

Ouurgrat draws his scimitar from its scabbard.

Kraknag rushes forward to attend Spatnaz

Croaker jogs close to the Morgul-banner, near Spatnaz and Gurg and Ashnak. "Hai," he mutters, "I heard bowstrings after that fool of a troll bellowed. Do we have targets? The orcs are eager."

His tongue stilled by the loud boom of the troll, Daeros also reaches for his shield. "I think it's too late, Sir," he whispers, not bothering to hide the fear in his voice as he follows Findon's lead and lengthens their line of defense.

Spatnaz whispers quietly for the benefit of Kraknag and Gurg, "Snaga, I need you for a special job and I'm certain our Tek'Rak won't mind you doing this. Are you willing?"

Without hesitation, Gurg spins upon Ouurgrat, his axe flying through the air in a well aimed strike towards Logaz's knee. No sound escapes his lips in this motion - just the whizzing of metal through air.

Snarling in defiance, Tarnak bellows his orders and the line of Pulgor orcs step up their pace, flowing like a black serpent toward the western flank of the humans. Their booted feet crush the underbrush before them, the clank of armor and weapon sounding in the darkness of the sparse vegetation.

Gurg attacks Ouurgrat with his Battle Axe and badly wounds him!

Kraknag nervously glances around, "Sir, of course I'm willing!"

"They are coming..." Morrandir says, drawing himself up to his full height and unsheathing his blade. "If we run, they will catch us and kill us. There is no option but to fight. Arm yourselves, men. Let us get this over and done with."

Drawing his greatsword from its sheath very slowly so as to avoid making more noise, Dorionn crouches down amongst the cover of some bare bushes. He gestures with one hand for Serendur to follow his lead, having placed the shuttered lantern on the ground besides him a moment ago. Then he lifts one hand and points up ahead to where there is obvious movement in the darkness, less than a hundred feet away. He says nothing.

Dorionn wields Greatsword.

As Degiaras hears the clang of metal in the distance he frowns and steps away from Sir Morrandir and the others in his group, just far enough to give him room to swing his sword about freely. His face is grim though his eyes show a flicker of fear in them. He now takes to watching the woods before him.

"Bring the banner up! Let it FLY!" His voice echos a bit, but he seems to take no note. Pushing forward, he chuckles, turning to the nearest orc, that happens to be the Tarnak, "Look over there, they fight their own." Still laughing, he raises his axe and moves into a soft trot.

If he were naive about the foul dangers present in the world, in little time would Serendur's ideas collapse in a gnashing fury of foul reek, guttural voices, and poisoned steel. The page stays close to the rest of the Squires, dagger in hand. The Knight's call for valiant deeds is heard, and once again Serendur sets his jaw solidly. No running away like the lordling. Not at all.

Spatnaz smiles in the blackness, "Good, snaga. I need you to sneak up forward all quiet like and find those tarks. And when you do," he points perpendicular to their line of march, off towards the mountains of Mordor, "I want you to scream loudly and then run in that direction, not back towards me. If you run towards me, I'll kill you myself."

Kraknag stands tall, and sets his feet solidly in the ground. "This is the time," he mutters quietly to himself.

Croaker steps aside with a hiss as Gurg hacks into Ouurgrat, the messenger. He shakes his head, then pays it no more mind. He eyes and ears are on the shadows and trees.

Ouurgrat blinks, then opens his eyes to find Gurg's scimitar severing his calf, a small foutain of black blood bathing all nearby in an unholy baptism. He yelps as he topples to the ground, his scimitar falling to the ground. "Gahr...commander...," he whines.

Spinning on the balls of his feet at another 'phantom' sound, Ashnak looses another arrow into the shrubbery of the hills, his bow groaning and twanging with the effort. He scans the periphery of the orcs assembled, listening for a scream, a breath, anything.

Crouching low, Kraknag sneaks into the foliage, he circles quietly around the human encampent. He gets a clear view of their troops, "Steady on Kraknag, now KILL!!!" "YOU'RE MINE!" screams Kraknag to one of the younger humans, Daeros. Screaming a wordless cry of purest rage, he hurtles forward, feet pounding along the ground as he races towards his foe, he cries, "FOR THE EYE!!!!!!! THE EYE!!!!!!! DEATH TO ALL TARKS!! THE EYE!! THE EYE AND MORDOR!!!" He lunges forward and hurls a bag of boulders at his foe. Sending heavy rocks hurtling towards the young man.

Olorg grins at the Troll's insane boldness, he glances out towards the sound of Tark voices. He motions the troll towards the noise and says, "This way, troll." Silently moving the scout keeps aim with his bow towards the noise.

Gurg steps over the fallen Logaz, his rage unrestrainable at this point. "If ye ever threaten me again, you lowly maggot, I'll ri-!!" His roaring voice is cut off sharply as he hears a high-pitched yell of a Snaga, and commotion ahead. He quickly forgets about the fallen Logaz, turning his back and striding over towards Croaker. "What th' skai....?"

""

Findon move toward Morrandir then, and halt only a pace or two from said Knights side. All the while he reaches for his own shield, slung over his back grasping it lightly -- Or tightly?--"" And his voice is lowered even more than before, so that only the knight will hear him.

""

'Foe!' He say aloud then, a warning to his companions, eyes darting toward Kraknag.

"AMROTH FOR GONDOR!!" Morrandir booms, as though in answer to Kraknag's cry.

And now they make themselves known. May the Valar have mercy.

Spatnaz motions for the attention of Gurg and Croaker and points to where Kraknag is slinking off into the darkness to find the nearest tarks. "Come," he whispers, "Lets follow him and see who he finds to kill him."

"Amroth for Gondor!" Cries Findon, in reply to Morrandir.

Croaker watches Kraknag run off, then chuckles as he hears the orc scream his threats and rush the enemy alone. "Sounds like it's joined, eh?" He grins toothily at Gurg, wet fangs gleaming in his scarred black face. "I think we're done sneaking!"

Hearing the booming human voices, the once Elder Shaman Shrag'kai leys out a flat hand, "Hold up. Let the Dushgob get their attention, then we'll flank em from this side!" He creeps on now, slower than before, patting his axe with an anxious hand.

At this loud cry, bloodlust rushes the veins of the Tek'Rak, Gurg, and nearly all thought of organization and battle strategy flies from his mind. He heafts his mighty axe high, and charges through the underbrush towards the sorce of that mighty war cry, his own wordless bellow raising to join the clamor that now begins to fill the air.

"Noiseses," The troll hisses, peering at Olorg. "Dat way." The stout, fat troll hefts a stubby arm, pointing a finger in the direction of the shouting. "C'mon, maggoty Oglrog, let dem fill our bellahs.." The troll cries, offering a hoarse giggle as suddenly his lumbering picks up a pace. The distance between him and the growing fray quickly begins to fall short..

Croaker nods and jogs after Spatnaz. He hisses, "Morgul-orcs, come on! There's red blood ahead!"

Grunting sharply as one of the boulders catches him in the shoulder, Daeros stumbles back a step before raising sword and shield. "For Gondor!" he echoes the others, fear falling by the wayside as he arcs his sword through the air toward Kraknag's arm.

Kraknag screams murderously, "TARK!!!!!!!" but his yellings soon degenerate into gibberish "GAAKSAGHRKJARVTILMUNKANEGKJ!!!!!!!!!" He cries with purest rage. He lunges forward, arms raking powerfully towards Daeros's face.

On the great beast trotted, sparing limb and leaf as it showed deft footwork and left little sign of its passage -- the rider atop, Globhosh, scoured the horizon in content search, trusting Wyrr to conceal their presence.

"Tarks!" the rider cried, for his efforts bore fruit, revealing the party before him. With a suicidal grin he raised his axe and spurred the warg on, trusting that the others would follow.

"Stay down," Dorionn hisses to Serendur, "They sent that one to flush us out, and I heard an arrow." For his own part, the squire rises and raises his blade, waiting near cover for the other orcs who must inevitably follow the first small, but remarkably loud one.

"FOR GONDOR!" Bellows Degiaras, as he holds his sword high, though when he spies the large form of the Troll he frowns and grumbles, "What in the name of Ulmo is that?" He starts to back away, and then notices the rider and his warg. Degiaras frowns slightly and sets himself for the possibility of a charge from the mounted Orc.

Kraknag notices his opponents attack almost too late, and kicks wildly to leap out of the way. The blow misses-by a hair.

Grinning at the charge of the men of Gondor, Ashnak fits another arrow to his bow, letting it loose in the direction of one of the soldiers of Dol Amroth.

Still whining softly, Ouurgrat frumbles in the dirk and muck on the ground, doing his best to locate his dropped weapon in the dim undergroth. He cries yet again, this time as the blade finds his hand, biting deeply into his flesh. Pushing himself to his feet, he limps foward. He sees little in the dark night. "What's this? Foes? Red blood? Where are in the name of the Eye are they?"

Ouurgrat draws his scimitar from its scabbard.

Serendur obliges at the Squire's instruction he isn't that provincial, really. Ducking a bit behind the others, the page keeps dirk in hand and makes sure to keep his senses aware to anything directly around him. Especially any of those whizzing arrows.

Ashnak launches an arrow...

Ashnak's bowshot hits Dorionn, moderately wounding him.

Snarling as Globhosh streaks by on his warg, Tarnak curses and looks to his Tek'rak, awaiting orders. If there is one thing the Rakarg prides himself on, it is the control he has over his troops. Behind him, a number twitch nervously and presss forward, eager to attack...

"Hold, men!" Morrandir shouts, wincing as the first few arrows begin to arrive. "We wait for them to come to us." He raises his shield to protect his chest and neck, all the while watching Daeros' struggle.

Using his shield to fend off Kraknag's claws, Daeros staggers back a pace, bending for a moment beneath the beast's weight before shoving him back with a loud grunt. Daeros swings his sword again, aiming for his foe's neck.

Leaping over the underbrush, bursting through folliage, Gurg charges towards the first human he sees: the mighty Morrandir, and the source of the first wild battle cry. Stumbling on a log, he nearly falls, but saves himself with a well placed, stabalzing hand. And, finding the Human in his range upon gaining his balance, a wild grin spreads on the Tek'Rak's face. "Aaaaahhr!" he cries out as he brings his mighty weapon through the air in a sweeping, over-head arch towards the joining of neck and shoulder upon the Human.

Gurg attacks Morrandir with his Battle Axe, but Morrandir parries the attack with his Longsword!

From the darkness sounds a loud, 'Twang!' followed by the whistle of an arrow streaking through the air. It fly's down it's path towards Morrandir, or more precisely, his opponent.

Duilin launches an arrow...

Duilin's bowshot hits Gurg, moderately wounding him.

As the warg and his rider approach Degiaras grimaces and then takes to the offensive, charging the large being with a feral yell. He swings his longsword in the Orc's general direction, hoping more for a lucky hit than anything else it would seem.

Kraknag Barely dances back from his opponent's blow, he is still wounded slightly in the shoulder and he cries, whether in anger or in pain is impossible to tell. He jumps to the side and darts forward, low under his opponent's guard. Claws whirling frantically he tries to rake his foe's abdomen, "DIE YOU BLOODY TARK!!!"

Degiaras attacks Globhosh with his Longsword and lightly wounds him!

"Ah!" gasps Dorionn, his cry of pain abruptly bitten off as an arrow hits his right shoulder. Reaching up, he breaks off the shaft of the arrow, lowering his blade a moment as he does so. The wound does not appear incapacitating, however, and the squire hefts his blade once more, ready to engage the nearest opponent.

Olorg moves swiftly through the hills and finally gains a good sight of the humans. Taking his bow in hands he moves quickly from person to person until he sees a arrow fly by one of his fellow orcs. He grins and catches sight of the shooter, letting an arrow fly towards the fellow archer.

Olorg launches an arrow...

Olorg's arrow flies wide, doing no harm.

And so the battle begins for Morrandir. Even as the great orc appears, his blade is raised and blocking a potentially deadly attack. He does not notice the arrow whizzing past him. He simply attacks, sweeping his blade toward the orc's side.

Morrandir attacks Gurg with his Longsword and moderately wounds him!

Findon draws his sword.

Gurg is not alone. Close on his heels the noise of orc-feet can be heard, stamping in the roots and leaves and trampling bushes.

Another noise, then, as their heavy bootsteps quicken: a low grumbling, stony snarling that grows into harsh flat yells and bloody shouts. "Hai! MORDOR!" The orcs crash through the bushes, charging now, the pale death-moon ghastly on their filthy black tunics and shields.

Serendur /could/ be doing something helpful. Anything. But at this point, dodging arrows is the first agenda. *whizz*thump* Another one nearly clips his ear. In the darkness, it is hard to see the black shafts...Serendur keeps behind Dorionn, even as an arrow hits the Squire.

But Duilin stands not with his own, indeed, but high up in the trees of Ithilien. Olorg's shot is deflected by the limbs of the tree. But Duilin says not, and soon, he disappears from sight once more, hidden by the darkness and foliage.

"Alright, now!" erupts the voice of the Pulgor Tek'rak, alerting his waiting troops to spring on the flank. He is first to rush forward, his axe in the air, "Bow cover! Archers fire!" His fast pace quikly brings him towards the other side of the Human group, "For the Eye!" His roar is heard, a common death cry this eve. He swings at the closest human in sight. The blow angled towards his side and a swift one at that, not well planned at all.

Shrag'kai attacks Daeros with his Battle Axe and badly wounds him!

The orc's claws find purchase, shredding Daeros' tabard and drawing blood. Grim faced with pain, the Squire shoves at Kraknag's face with his shield, hoping to smash the orc's nose and drive him back.

Spatnaz follows closely behind the Tek'Rak Gurg, barrelling out of the underbrush next to him as he rolls forward on a shoulder. An arrow screams angrily above him as he comes to his feet.

The nearest opponent, in Dorionn's case, turns out to be none other than the archer that shot at him. Gaining momentum as he leaps over a small shrub, the blue squire brings his greatsword back in a hefty swing at the archer.

Dorionn attacks Ashnak with his Greatsword and moderately wounds him!

The arrow slams into Gurg's upper left shoulder, barely whizzing by the right ear of the one it was meant to protect. A loud grunt issues from his mouth, a grunt that is punctuated by a houl of pain as the Human's longsword bites into his right side. The pain courses through his body, but so does wonderful adrenaline, enabling him to strike out hard towards his enemy's front knee.

Gurg attacks Morrandir with his Battle Axe, but he misses by a hair.

"Uuuuh.." The troll drones dully, listening to the cry of the Knights. Thinking that a cry of Mordor, the troll tries to replicate it and bellows out a cry, harsh and cruel: "ARMUUTH OF GONDAH!!" Suddenly, Kog begins to fall into a throt. He watches Olorg's arrow sore, and simply follows the arrow towards the target.. Which seems to be a tree. Yet, it leads him towards the fray, and the slobbering beast now sets a grin onto his face as he looks for a target. His face is uplighted with delight as he peers around at the seperate scraps.

Muttering, Ashnak turns around to find the very human he shot approaching faster than expected. He takes the hit stoicly, keeping a hold of his bow just long enough to put it away and draw hiw blade.

Ashnak draws forth a his blade and holds it at the ready.

"Garn," Globhosh groaned, angered more so at his failure to notice the tark then the wound itself the blow was a shallow cut, doing little to slow the impending counterattack. The rider brought his axe down in a deadly arc, scything through the night towards the neck of Degarias.

But the Knight is too swift. With the grace and agility of a cat, Morrandir steps back and avoids being het for a second time. Skill or luck? It matter not to him. Longsword raised again, he slashes at the mighty Uruk's left shoulder.

Morrandir attacks Gurg with his Longsword and moderately wounds him!

Globhosh attacks Degiaras with his Axe and lightly wounds him!

Iramo climbs up the hill from the south.

Iramo has arrived.

Iramo descends to the forest to the north.

Iramo has left.

Spatnaz charges angrily directly at the archer who just narrowly missed him, paying no heed in the sightless black to the battle raging behind him with Gurg and the tark warrior. His crescent-shaped shield held before him for protection, he lopes forward low and lean. The black blade of his damasc-steeled scimitar whistles through the underbrush as he slashes at the tark archer.

Kraknag barely dances back from his opponent's blow, he is still wounded slightly in the shoulder and he cries, whether in anger or in pain is impossible to tell. He jumps to the side and darts forward, low under his opponent's guard. Claws whirling frantically he tries to rake his foe's abdomen, "DIE YOU BLOODY TARK!!!"

Spatnaz attacks Duilin with his Scimitar, but he misses by a long shot.

The orc's claws find purchase, shredding Daeros' tabard and drawing blood. Grim faced with pain, the Squire shoves at Kraknag's face with his shield, hoping to smash the orc's nose and drive him back.

His first swing having done its job in disrupting the archer's concentration, Dorionn hastily reverses the swing and lifts his blade to send it in a quick downward arc at the orc's right shoulder while it is drawing its blade and unready.

Dorionn attacks Ashnak with his Greatsword, but Ashnak parries the attack with his Scimitar!

Croaker rushes over the tangled hillside, charging directly to Gurg's side as the Morgul-orcs fan out, swords and spears at the ready. Croaker snarls incoherently as he rushes at Morrandir, lunging forward with his shield held high. His crooked scimitar hacks wildly at the tall Man's legs.

Olorg grumbles as his target dissapears and the arrow flies unto the void of the tree branches. The troll he was with stomps off and the scout sprints after him, deciding to stick near the large warrior. As he moves he pulls another arrow from his quivver and waits for a shot to open up in the battle.

Iramo has arrived.

You attack Morrandir with your Scimitar...

Your attack against Morrandir mildly wounds him!

Another solid strike by the Knight lands on the chain mail of Gurg, eliciting yet another groan of pain. Stepping back to get his balance, the Tek'rak hesitates only long enough to take a breath before he dives in again, a wild roar accompanying a wild swing towards Morrandir's right hip.

Gurg attacks Morrandir with his Battle Axe, but Morrandir parries the attack with his shield!

And even as Daeros is met with two foes a cry leave Findon, and he swiftly moves toward that second of foes. "Leave him be, and get you gone!" And long sword is hewn toward Shrag'kai's side.

Ashnak catches Dorionn's blade with his own, all the while reaching at his back for his shield. He brings it around, swinging it with a whoosh at the Blue Squire.

Findon attacks Shrag'kai with his Longsword and moderately wounds him!

Ashnak puts on Wooden Shield.

Ashnak unwields Black-hilted Scimitar.

Ashnak attacks Dorionn with his Bare Hands, but he misses by a handspan.

Ashnak draws forth a his blade and holds it at the ready.

As the Orc swings his axe at Degiaras' neck, the squire lets weeks of training take over, and he wisely attempts to get out of the way. In doing so though the axe nicks his upper arm, opening a gash across his shield arm. He winces in pain, and then attempts to repay the Orc for his strike.

Degiaras attacks Globhosh with his Longsword, but Globhosh parries the attack with his Axe!

Kraknag tries to whirl away, and succeeds-partially. The Shield strikes him in his wounded shoulder, sending him temporarily off balance and causing him pain but doing little damage. He snarls in agony, but that pain is immediately replaced by a visceral rage and loathing for his foe. "A TARK DARES TO HURT KRAKNAG THE GREAT!! DIEEE!!!!!!" He lunges forward, only to slip in the mud, the slip is soon revealed as a feint as he springs up from under his opponents guard with a powerful slash of his claw, simultaeneously flinging some mud and feces at his foe's face.

Insanity.

This is the only word to describe Ouurgrat's reaction to the ongoing battle. His black skin seems to glow darkly in the moonlight. White foam froths from his mouth, and he cires, the howl of an animal cornered or enraged, as he limps foward through the dark undergrowth. The uninteligable mix of curses, implorations, and dark invocations drowns out the din of battle for a moment as Ouurgrat swings wildly at a tall tark brave enough to take on Morgul's commander. (Dorionn)

Ouurgrat draws his scimitar from its scabbard.

Ouurgrat attacks Dorionn with his Scimitar, but he misses by a handspan.

Duilin's new hiding spot already found by Spatnaz and his scimitar. He jumps from the low branch he stands on, pulling himself up to one higher. Taking his bow, he aims a fresh arrow down down at Spatnaz. He pauses a momment, a hidden smile curling on his lips, and looses the arrow.

Duilin launches an arrow...

Duilin's bowshot hits Spatnaz, badly wounding him.

Assailed now by two foes, Morrandir falters not. One blow is parried, but the other is not. The scimitar hits his thigh, almost knocking him off balance. The larger orc takes priority however, and again Morrandir hacks at Gurg's shoulder.

Morrandir attacks Gurg with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.

Globhosh swats away the strike with the haft of his axe, reigning Wyrr to face Degarias more squarely as he returns the favor. Return it he does, swiping now to the human's sword arm with a lusty grin.

Attention drawn, Shrag'kai never sees the blade comming till its too late. His shrt is sliced and the shineing ring mail appears underneath. "Skai! You bloody tarks got no honor!" He chuckles to himself, turning and bringing with him the full length of his axe. Both arms outstretched to give the best torque. The blade whistles in the air, arching at the Humans neck.

Shrag'kai attacks Findon with his Battle Axe, but he misses by a mile.

Globhosh attacks Degiaras with his Axe, but he misses by an arm's length.

Ducking back just in time to keep Ashnak's swing from slicing deep into his belly, Dorionn clamps both his hands about the hilt of his blade firmly as sends it in a low, swift slash towards the orc's legs, ducking his own head low as he does so.

Dorionn attacks Ashnak with his Greatsword and lightly wounds him!

Serendur grits his teeth at the ensuing melee before him. His problem is trying to curb his rashness in his current state of doing...nothing. Good way to make a lad feel useless, even when there's a whole host of orcs around him. Unfortunately, he still is a bit gangly, so sneaking about is fairly out of the question.

A claw once more scores Daeros' flesh, and he staggers away with blood running from his thigh. His sword swings wildly from the side, aimed for Kraknag's vulnerable abdomen, a cry for Gondor tearing from his lips.

Degiaras espies Globhosh's attack a bare moment before it comes, and he slips his sword arm around the arc of the axe. He grins and makes a reply with his sword, aiming to split Globhosh's eyes with his blade.

Degiaras attacks Globhosh with his Longsword and lightly wounds him!

Dorionn's aim is true, but poorly timed, grazing his thigh. Still, it draws blood, and the Teguk looks down at it with a growl before aiming his own blow at the Gondorian.

Suddenly, Duilin's aintics catch Kog's good eye. The troll spins around, looking at the tree. The hill troll freezes, simply glaring at the tree... "Oy... I seeeee yo'.." Suddenly, the troll leaps forward, and charges towards the tree. He puts his head down, and strikes the tree with the brunt of his weight. Shaking his head, he blinks a few times, before looking to see what had happened with Duilin.

Ashnak attacks Dorionn with his Scimitar, but he misses by a mile.

Leaping back to avoid the quick slash of the well-trained Human, Gurg's foot is tangled in the underbrush. He looses his balance, stumbling backwards for a few moments before crashing to the ground. Raising to his knee, he roars out, "Onward, Dushgoi! Onward fer da eye! Kill! Kill! Kiilll!" A surge of Uruks rushes past their commanders towards the small human on-too-rage, waving weapons and shouting loudly.

Spatnaz quickly shinnies up whatever random tree Duilin has chosen to place himself in, climbing it at least as fast if not faster than a mere human's attempt to get a few meager feet off of the ground. Seeing just fine in the pitch black, he hacks viciously with his black blade, hacking branch and leaf to cut the archer down.

Spatnaz attacks Duilin with his Scimitar, but he misses by a handspan.

But no reply is offered.

Indeed, for Findon has other things to be wary of than speech. Shrag'kai's battle axe for one.

The Squire moves back a swift pace, two: thus avoiding the fierce, if also ill aimed attack. Only then does he reply "Honor? You speak of honor?" Yet, Findon does not wait for a reply, but lets the sword speak for him...

...With a thrust toward Shrag'kai's belly.

Findon attacks Shrag'kai with his Longsword and moderately wounds him!

But Ithilien's trees are thick and aged, not to be uprooted so quickly by a troll. The tree shakes, but already Duilin has moved to a new branch, attempting to escape Spatnaz's blade. He pulls himself steady once more, takes a new shaft, nocks it and another flies towards Spatnaz.

Bregcrist has arrived.

Duilin launches an arrow...

Duilin's bowshot hits Spatnaz, severely wounding him.

Frowning at his commander's failed attempts to breach Dorionn's defenses, he circles a bit, and attacks cautiously to Dorionn's flankm hoping the human will notice the slice of his blade too late. His scimitar raised high above his head, he feints towards Dorion's head, then snapping aside at the lastest possible moment, it slices silently towards the human's vulnerbale neck.

Ouurgrat attacks Dorionn with his Scimitar and badly wounds him!

Blood spills across the Rakarg's shoulder, for as Globhosh caught the sword upon his shield, it slid off, catching the base of his neck in a spray of blood. The rider showed determination in that his axe would not fail again, lashing out in wild attempt to decapitate the squire.

Olorg follows Kog's gaze up into the tree and sees his former missed target. He grunts and moves to the tree, swiftly starting to climb up towards Duilin, stopping at one of the first few branches to take aim at the tark. "Stay still, rancid human." He has to wait a few seconds for a shot, knowing that to hit Spatnaz would not do well for the lower-ranker's existence.

Olorg launches an arrow...

Olorg's bowshot hits Duilin, lightly wounding him.

This time, Daeros attack strikes solidly, it slashes through Kraknag's hardened abdomenal muscles and sheds his blood on the grass below. Refusing to cry out, Kraknag grits his teeth but accidentally grips his side with his feces covered arm, possibly infecting the wound, though effectively stopping the blood flow somewhat. "I...can't..lose..to..this...TARK!!!!" He focuses his rage to hold of the pain and lunges, his visceral hatred driving him to abandone all defense in a deadly double strike for Daeros's head and abdomen.

Globhosh attacks Degiaras with his Axe and moderately wounds him!

Tilting his head to the right just as Ashnak's thrust goes by, Dorionn pulls back a step in order to give himself more space to fight. He swings again, this time from right to left in a horizontal slash towards Ashnak's chest, but his blow goes wildly awry as Ouurgrat's blade slams into his armour, just below his unprotected neck. Even so, the blow draws blood, causing Dorionn to stagger away from his new opponent.

Dorionn attacks Ashnak with his Greatsword, but he misses by an arm's length.

Before you is a man of Gondor, somewhere in his mid to late twenties. He is tall, but also broad in the shoulder and muscular in the arms. His face is framed by locks of raven hair which play about his shoulders, and a neatly trimmed beard graces his chin. An eyepatch obscures his left eye, and the tip of what looks to be an ugly scar peeps out from beneath. This man seems to have seen much combat, for his face is significantly scarred -- the most unsightly being two long slash marks which cross upon his right cheek. Despite his wounding, there is an almost defiant mirth in the sea-grey eye which remains.

A pale grey cloak of some rich fabric hangs from his shoulders, and it is of such a length that the end trails along the ground. It is clasped at the throat with a small silver broach in the shape of a wolf's head. Beneath the cloak is a gleaming shirt of mail, with the Ship and Swan tabbard upon his chest. He is clearly a Knight, by his garb and the way in which he carries himself.

Again the Humans blow hits its place on Shrag'kais chainmail. This time the chink of meteal breaking and a stream of blood trickles down his front, "Is that all you've got, tark? Die for da Eye!" His grim smile fades as he pushed forward, brining the spade side of his axe up towards the under chin of Findon.

"Push em' in Pulgor! Kill em all! Make us suppor!" Orcish cries erupt, the flag of Dol Guldur soars above the Orcish party, "For the Eye!"

Shrag'kai attacks Findon with his Battle Axe, but he misses by a handspan.

Arathil has arrived.

Celemagor has arrived.

Raising his shield to take the vicious claws down the length of his arm, Daeros grits his teeth. Bleeding now from arm, leg, and abdomen, the swing of his sword has slightly less momentum as he brings it down towards Kraknag's neck.

Rithluzar has arrived.

Azridan has arrived.

Degiaras attempts to raise his shield quickly to ward off the blow by Globhosh, but in doing so overcompensates and raises his shield too high, deflecting the axe down into his minimally covered abdomen, and the blade sinks deep into his side. Degiaras winces again, and growls quietly, "By Elbereth I shall not be defeated." He lashes out with his sword at the Orc's axe arm.

Croaker snarls again as Gurg staggers back and vanishes in a surge of uruk warriors. "Skai! You're running already?" But his harsh voice is lost in the din, and he faces Morrandir, glaring up at the tall knight. "All right, then. Let's see if we can put some bloody red in those grey eyes, Tark!" He spits and lashes out, his scimitar whipping overhand to crash down ot Morrandir's head and face.

Degiaras attacks Globhosh with his Longsword, but he misses by a handspan.

Argamir has arrived.

You attack Morrandir with your Scimitar...

Morrandir dodges your attack.

Leading a small group of the Guldur orcs into the fray, Tarnak snarls and grips his axe with a comfortable grip. Slashing and bellowing, the officer strikes at foes left and right, bringing death and pain to his enemy. "The EYE and Pulgorbuzob!" Spying the youth Serendur, Tarnak strides toward him purposefully, his huge axe sweeping toward the man's neck in a killing strike..."

Ostrondo has arrived.

It is said that the attention span of a Troll is no more then the distance one can throw a troll... And it appears that it is so. No sooner has Duilin moved, that Kog's eyes lock onto a new target. The acomplished Morrandir obviously sparks life in Kog's eye. The beast lets out a bellowing roar, and suddenly begins to surge towards the Knight, gritting his teeth as he bellows loudly, waving his club above his head. "C'mere white-skoon!"

Leading a small group of the Guldur orcs into the fray, Tarnak snarls and grips his axe with a comfortable grip. Slashing and bellowing, the officer strikes at foes left and right, bringing death and pain to his enemy. "The EYE and Pulgorbuzob!" Spying the youth Serendur, Tarnak strides toward him purposefully, his huge axe sweeping toward the man's neck in a killing strike...

Kraknag flings humself desperately to the ground, rolling out of the way of the blow. Realizing his precarious position, he grasps Daeros's feet nd tries to wrench them upwards, even as Kraknag flings himself to his feet, driven by the adrenaline of a berserker.

"If any blood enters my one eye, it shall be thine!" Morrandir hisses, ducking out of the scimitar's path, and thrusting his own sword at Croaker's shoulder.

Morrandir attacks Croaker with his Longsword!...

...and he hits! Ouch!

Another swift pace back, and another -- ever back, the Squire Findon seems to be headed -- and Shrag'kai's attack is once again... futile.

"I would rather not..." He say then, as a reply for the orcs' taunt even as he begins to move. A few steps toward his foe, and a bold swing toward that same foe's neck...

Findon attacks Shrag'kai with his Longsword and lightly wounds him!

"Die? Worse then death awaits you, tark, I will kill you, then eat you!" Globhosh growls darkly, his rough common tainted by contempt. This emotion carries over to action, for no strength is spared as he strikes to the squire's shoulder.

Croaker staggers as Morrandir's skillful riposte drives him back with a gash in his shoulder, bloodying his the leather and iron rings of his armor. "Gah, you filthy whiteskin!" He regains his balance after a pace or two and swings around again, leading with his shield and slicing low again with his sword.

Croaker attacks Morrandir with his Scimitar...

Morrandir dodges the attack.

Globhosh attacks Degiaras with his Axe, but Degiaras parries the attack with his shield!

Thukmog has arrived.

Falling to the ground, Daeros rolls painfully, losing his shield in the process. Kicking free of Kraknag's grasp, he gets to one knee. "Valar curse you," he mutters through clenched teeth, driving his sword point down at the prone orc.

Grunting, Duilin winces as Olorg's true aimed arrow slides into his thigh. At once he breaks off the shaft and waits not, taking up another arrow to nock in his bow. Aiming down at Olorg once more, he shouts, laughing despite his injury, "I shall turn you too into a pin cushion if you so wish it!"

Duilin launches an arrow...

Duilin's bowshot hits Olorg, severely wounding him.

Arriving with the new wave of Gondorian soldiers, Guardsman Argamir throws himself into the battle, sword raised and shield forwards, "For Gondor!," he shouts.

Despite the pain of his injury, Dorionn quickly resumes the attack, seeming to stumble forward but actually using the forward momentum to aid in his attack on his new opponent, Ouurgrat. He brings his greatsword flashing forward in a diagonal swing at the orc's chest, letting out a loud yell as he does so.

Growling as a blade corsses shoulder and black blood is again drawn from Shrak'kai, the Tek'rak growls, "You not playin' nice, Tark. I'll just have to teach yu manors, huh?" He grunts, burping afterwards. Raiseing his axe, he lets it fall behind him in a swoop with one hand still grasping its shaft firmly, the brings it up at Findons crotch, blade first...

Dorionn attacks Ouurgrat with his Greatsword and badly wounds him!

Shrag'kai attacks Findon with his Battle Axe and moderately wounds him!

Grim smile still upon his face, the Ranger Arathil emerges from the brush, into this unnatural clearing. Gone is the vegetation normal to these woods, trampled by the chaos of combat. His gray eyes glance about the grim scene. Without thought it seems, his arm draws back powerfully, his knocked arrow sweeping before him. "Give me a target!" he shouts, to the men already emeshed in battle.

By some grace of the powers of Arda, Serendur ducks and jumps aside from the terrible axe strike of Tarnak. There's no time to sweat in this situation, much less worse things like soiling one's self. Besides, the page has a lot more guts than that, and this time he tries to keep the uruk moving. It doesn't look like it is used to dancing about the fighting style is more of a strength-oriented bashing with the axe. Just keep moving, Serendur.

"Filthy? An orc dares call a man filthy?" Morrandir smiles grimly, avoiding yet another blow. He strikes again, his blade flicking toward the orc's stomach like the tongue of an asp.

The shield of Degiaras this time does not fail him as he raises it perfectly to deflect the Orc's blow, though by doing so he winces at the pain it causes in his abdomen. He grunts quietly, though if it is a reply to the orc's insult its uninteligable. He makes a stab for Globhosh's midsection.

Morrandir attacks Croaker with his Longsword!...

...and he misses!

Degiaras attacks Globhosh with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

A shout from the trees screams, "The troll!" answering Arathil's question.

Lead by the cry of the name Gondor, the young soldier Ostrondo charges in behind the Ranger, helm firmly on his head and longsword gripped tightly. The chaos gives the boy pause, but only a moment, as he takes a moment to orient and sift the fifth from his allies.

Moving past the ranger down into the fray of battle comes the Soldier of the Hosts of Gondor, Azridan. His longsword raised high as he cries, "FOR GONDOR!!!!" His shield held out before him as his feet carry him towards the battle.

Kraknag flings himself at Daeros, wasting no breath on words or cries, he slams his arms against Daeros's sword, and even as it cuts him has grabs the sword, refusing to let go even as blood trickles down his arm. He tackles Daeros and sends bits at his throuat even as he claws at his abdomen.

As an arrow drives cruelly into Spatnaz's flesh, his grip on the tree falters. Bloodloss from the arrow wounds has its toll on his coordination and he slips from the low tree branches where he had climbed, falling heavily to the ground beneath the tree. Hitting dirt, he rolls into some bushes to gather his wits about him.

A bestial rage has come across the Rakarg, his axe rising in falling once more, despite the sword which scrapes his thigh -- had it not been for Wyrr's bucking the squire's blows may have been more grievous, yet little effect of battle is shown so far.

Running south, blade drawn, the young soldier Rithluzar pushes his way forward, but once within sight of the battle, stops, heart sinking. There were so many.... and there was a Troll. He had never been in an actual combat situation before, and he was struggling with the urge to just run. But he could not. He had a responsibility to those he was with, and he urged himself on, pushing himself into the fray to be able to aid in this onslaught.

Globhosh attacks Degiaras with his Axe, but Degiaras parries the attack with his shield!

Through the northern woods, a nother company of men arrives. Soldiers of Gondor they are, clad in the black and silver and with them a Ranger of the Ithilien. Among them is Celemagor, tall and proud he stands, longbow in one hand. Sea-grey eyes fall upon what has become a battle field, "They have a troll!" he says, pointing towards the towering beast. His hand goes to his arrows in the quiver and swift movement, he nocks into his bow.

Pulling on the screen, he brings the back of his arrow near his cheek and holding his breath he lets go. The arrow flies free, cutting through the air towards the Olog.

Celemagor launches an arrow...

Celemagor's bowshot hits Kog, mildly wounding him.

You say, "Skai, your breath is filthier than anything I've smelt in Mordor's wastes!" He grunts and blocks Morrandir's sword with a resounding impact, but then leaps in again, low on his bent legs as he slashes for the tall Man's knees and then follows with a sidewise slash at his sword-arm. "But come with us, and I'll show you!"

You attack Morrandir with your Scimitar...

Your attack against Morrandir mildly wounds him!

Snarling, Tarnak spits at Serendur viciously and spins into another swing, "Weaponless worm.. run from me or find your doom!!" The huge axe sweeps across in a sequence of vicious strikes, intent on driving the youth back from him.

Degiaras deflects another axe blow, he spares a wary glance at the warg that his opponent rides upon, and then sends another sword thrust at his opponent's midsection. Why change what's working.

Degiaras attacks Globhosh with his Longsword and moderately wounds him!

As Duilin's shout reaches across the chaos, Arathil narrows his eyes. Soon enough, a towering shape forms against the black skyline. "We have a troll, eh?" he speaks only to himself. A breath drawn, held for an instant, and with a rush of air Arathil's arrow flies upon the night, seeking the troll Kog.

Arathil launches an arrow...

Arathil's bowshot hits Kog, mildly wounding him.

Ouurgrat steps back from the attacking human, but late, too late. He yelps as Dorionn's perfect blow impact swings into his chest, tearing muscle and bone as it impails his chest cavity. His feet slipping as the earth moves underneath him, he coughs a vile wad of blood and phlem, hurling it towards Dorionn's face as he swings the blade weakly upwards in an attempt to send a nasty message to Dorionn's liver.

Ouurgrat attacks Dorionn with his Scimitar and lightly wounds him!

As Dorionn engages in battle with Ouurgrat, Ashnak smirks at the dung-raking Logaz. "Let the rest of us know what death is like," he mutters, charging off towards Argamir, his blade shining palely in the moonlight.

Morrandir grunts as the scimitar cuts into his arm. "If my breath smells of anything, it is cheap whiskey." It is then that he hears the cries of other Gondorians -- not of his own party. The smile of a man who's life has been spared forms upon his lips. "Hear that, creature? It is the sound of your death!" He aims a mighty swing at the orc's midsection.

Morrandir attacks Croaker with his Longsword!...

...and he hits! Ouch!

Globhosh winces. For once, he is struck solidely, and his response slowed, yet even as he shudders from the blow, Wyrr compensates, lunging at the squire with his massive paw.

Just as swiftly as Rithluzar runs south, comes the small bestial figure of an orc, running north. A blade is clutched in both of the being's hands, held high in the rush towards the human foe. Singling out the human, the orc growls, exposing his fangs. "Human! Prepare to meet your doom!" He charges.

Globhosh attacks Degiaras with his Axe, but Degiaras parries the attack with his Longsword!

The cries from different Gondorians and Rangers begin to distract the troll from his target, and soon the Troll spins around in a circle, looking constantly for new targets. "Aarrroo!" He cries, staggering back and forth. The huge, dull-witted beast then pauses, just in time for the arrow to strike his shoulder. The arrow just manages to pierce the troll's skin. A growl murmers pass Kog's lips as he peers at the arrow. Pondering with a dull wit, the troll is then struck by another arrow. "Hrrmm.." The troll muses, peering at the two things protruding from his skin. He looks up, then back at the arrows, then up... Then, he screams. "Aaaaahrrghhh! Prickers! PRICKERS!" Suddenly, the troll launches into a terrible run: His thick, throdding feet causing the earth to shudder beneath him as he makes his way towards Celemagor.

Claws... teeth... bleeding from innumberable small wounds, Daeros' arm trembles as he forces his sword through Kraknag's grip, trying to force the point into his foe's neck. "Amroth... for... Gondor!" he cries, making a desperate lunge forward.

Serendur /has/ a weapon! It just is pretty small...and likely not do much besides scratch Tarnak. However, if there was a crack or chink somewhere...where the blade can be used to pierce the soft parts, Serendur is looking for it. He moves away from the orc now as the other is attempting to ward the page away with a flurry of strikes. But he is not running. Spitting in the orc's direction, Serendur simply keeps moving around, just to infuriate the much larger opponent more. All the while fingering the hilt of his dirk with a death-grip, knuckles white in the strain.

Croaker stumbles back at Morrandir's attack, but his shield holds off the brunt of it, allowing only a glancing blow to drive into his armor. He grunts, but holds his place, shrugging his bloody shoulder painfully. "All I hear is more stew for the pot, whitemeat." He laughs brutally, hideous face strained, and snarls as he rushes forward again, scimitar slashing high.

Croaker attacks Morrandir with his Scimitar...

Morrandir dodges the attack.

Degiaras knocks aside the wargs paw with the flat of his sword. The squire seems to have gained a little confidence now as he has landed a couple of blows, and not been hit in return. The Isilrim takes a half a moment to evaluate his reeling target, and then strikes, swinging for his axe arm.

Weak as Ouurgrat's attack was, it still connects with Dorionn's flank. The squire is spared serious injury this time, however, both because of the weakness of the blow and because of his armour. It's obvious he feels the blow, however, because he gasps as the wind is knocked out of him. Nevertheless, he does not relent in his attack, attempting to slam his elbow down on Ouurgrat's head as he brings his greatsword down once more at the shorter creature's shoulder and back.

Degiaras attacks Globhosh with his Longsword, but Globhosh parries the attack with his Axe!

Ouurgrat collapses to the ground, defeated by Dorionn!

Ouurgrat's weapon "Scimitar" falls to the ground...

Spatnaz holds to the brush and slinks northward from the tree'd archer and his Olog playmate to nurse his wounds in a slightly more comfortable spot... scraping his way northward in the pitch black and underbrush, his Uruk eyes seeing as well as a human would in daylight, he spies more Gondo soldiery marching to the fray and keeps quiet to observe Ostrondo and Azridan.

Yet now, Findon has moved too close. And thus, despite his attempt to avoid it the orcish battle axe finds its mark. If, however, not where it was intended to.

Instead, it bites into the inner thigh of the Blue Squire. Luckily. And what more is luckily there is armor there -- leather with metal studs -- and perhaps because of it, the wound is not so ill. Blood roll forth, ofcourse from a wound enough to hinder him. And the squire staggers back a step, and another.

Before he brings his own sword about, to hew at Shrag'kai's arm -- the one holding the axe -- from below.

Spotting the advancing Orc, Rithluzar clutches his blade tighter in hand, his shield held fast in his left as he slows, facing the advancing Orc. Let him come.... he would not commit himself, and Orcs had a habbit of attacking, or so he hears. To his surprise, he finds himself screaming out in reply to this beast. "In the name of Gondor, you shall be fell!" he cries out loudly, advancing, yet slowly so, allowing the Orc to make the first attack.

The Citadel Guard Argamir dispatches wild swings of his longsword, a few orcs drop yet with so many, it is hard to tell. Eyes skipping all over the place, they seem to settle on Ashnak's dancing sword, yet for only a second, his own sword swinging, feet taking him in the direction of the oncoming Uruk-hai.

Findon attacks Shrag'kai with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

Olorg roars in pain as he gets an arrow stuck into him by Duilin. The orc wobbles backwards on the branch and nearly falls off but at the last instant digs his claws into the bark of the tree. Kneeling the orc glances back upwards to Duilin and growls despite the arrow stuck into his shoulder. He quickly pulls his bow back once again and fires towards the tark, "The Eye will not fall!"

Olorg launches an arrow...

Olorg's arrow flies wide, doing no harm.

Out of the furious battle, Ostrondo makes out some in need of help, the more desparate of his friends and countrymen showing themselves in the chaos. Taking a second to glance about for Azirdan, the young soldier charges through and around blood, fighting, arrows, heading for Serendur and the beast stalking him with shouts.

Globhosh recovers with little time to spare, sweeping his axe up to parry the blow. He gives little pause, swiping back down to Degiaras' chest.

Globhosh attacks Degiaras with his Axe, but Degiaras parries the attack with his shield!

Ignoring Olorg for the moment, his arrow flying by him harmlessly, Duilin turns his attention back on the battlefield. He espies his target, raises his bow, a new arrow quickly being nocked and takes him. A breath of a pause, and an arrow is loosed towards Morrandir's opponent once more.

Duilin launches an arrow...

Ow! Croaker has been injured for 25 hp's by the bowshot.

Arrgh! The arrow is stuck fast, requiring treatment.

With a grunt, Ashnak alters the grip on his scimitar, charging and dropping to a crouch, aiming a wide arcing slash at the Citadel Guard's legs.

Ashnak attacks Argamir with his Scimitar, but Argamir parries the attack with his Longsword!

"For Mordor" whispers Kraknag and flings himself down on Daeros's sword, trapping it as it skewers his shoulder. As blood fountains from the wound, he falls atop Daeros. Lying atop Daeros, he bites desperately at Daeros's throat, even as he jams his claws at Daeros's stomach and attempts to twist the sword embedded in his shoulder away from daeros's grip.

Morrandir lightly steps to one side, and narrowly misses losing an arm to the orcish scimitar. "Nay, you will not have the pleasure of dining on Gondorion meat, the sweetest in all middle-earth. You will die, and your corpses will be burned." He steps forward, his blade raised above his head. It swings down toward the orc's shoulder. Always the shoulders with Morrandir...

Morrandir attacks Croaker with his Longsword!...

...and he hits! Ouch!

"In the name of the Eye, I will eat Human stew tonight!" Cries the small orc towards Rithluzar, giving a bestial cackle and smacking its lips as it charges. He leaps to briefly avoid a fallen comrade, the blade wavering for a moment at the top of the jump. Landing, he smacks his lips and leers. "A fine, meaty one, you are." The blade, held in both hands, moves in for a slash, at a diagonal, aimed more at testing the other's defences than for real harm.

The shield of Degiaras yet again holds off the blow of Globhosh's axe, though the axe bites deep into the leather and studs. Degiaras grunts under the impact and seems about to topple over backwards, but he regains his balance and makes a swing for the Orc's neck.

Arathil smiles as he watches his airborne barb sink home. Yet his arrow does little to slow the approaching Kog. Shaking his head in frustration, the Ranger draws again, seeking to place this arrow upon Kog's massive face. Once again his back arches as he draws, and the twang of his bow marks another shot.

Arathil launches an arrow...

Arathil's bowshot hits Kog, mildly wounding him.

Argamir jumps quickly, his sword falling down upon the assaulting scimitar with the cling of metals clashing, he grunts as he lands. Balancing quickly, his eyes seem unfocused as he swings wildly at Ashnak's left upper thigh.

Argamir attacks Ashnak with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.

Shrag'kai raises his axe wielding arm straight up to the air, allowing the Humans blade to nearly pass by, yet it does scarth his outter arm, causeing the Uruk to belch out a yell of pain. "Skai! Fall by my blade you filty swine! You'dd be dinner tonight!" - The Tek'rak drops his axe arm, letting the blade fall towards Findons head. The blow is fierce as his arms bulge in effort.

Degiaras has reconnected.

Shrag'kai attacks Findon with his Battle Axe, but he misses by an arm's length.

Slashing aggressively, the Uruk Tarnak strikes out with a booted foot at his opponent Serendur, the spike that adorns the toe seeking the youths torso. "Stand still while I rip you apart!" Scowling, he bellows and charges forward trying to knock Serendur off balance.

Seeing the orc charging towards him, Celemagor drops his longbows. Taking his sword in hand and grabing his torch from Azridan, he moves away. His path takes him towards the beast, but with no haste, weary of Kog but enough to block the Olog's path and give more time to his men behind him.

Dwalin heads east across the land.

Dwalin has left.

Degiaras attacks Globhosh with his Longsword and badly wounds him!

Celemagor wields Naruial.

A curse emits from Olorg as his arrow goes wide. The other archer now ignoring him, the Logaz decides to climes up to try and get a better shot at Duilin. His movement is slow due to the arrow stuck into him, but none the less he manages to claw his way upwards several branches and find a clearer shot. He pulls his arrow back and takes a few more seconds to get a good aim on the tark, then lets the arrow fly.

Olorg launches an arrow...

Olorg's arrow flies wide, doing no harm.

Celemagor puts on Studded Leather Shield.

Parry. Ripose. Parry. Success. On the melee goes, with another turn of cuts in the favor of the squire, and Globhosh angering, striking out now with a great roar.

Globhosh attacks Degiaras with his Axe, but he misses by a handspan.

"Serendur!" calls Dorionn, looking wildly about for the page once his opponent's fall gives him a moment to do so. Failing to find him, he charges into the thick of battle once more, stumbling slightly as he runs towards the troll.

Again the process is done, Duilin's hand reaching into his quiver and drawing an arrow, setting it in the string and drawing it back. He takes aim at another, seeing where he can do the most good. It is then that his eye finds Degiaras strungling against Globhosh's axe. He lets out an almost bored sigh, and fires at the creature of Mordor.

Duilin launches an arrow...

Duilin's bowshot hits Globhosh, mortally wounding him.

Tarnak heads east across the land.

Tarnak has left.

Ashnak steps aside from the swing of the guard, grinning long enough to spit out, "Bah! You gonna chop down a tree with a move like that?" He slashes overhead and diagonally, directly at the guard's chest.

Ostrondo heads east across the land.

Ostrondo has left.

Ashnak attacks Argamir with his Scimitar and lightly wounds him!

And this angry attack upon his person is dodged with a simple sidestep by Degiaras. He smirks, "What say you now Orc?" As he returns with another assault upon the being's body, this one aimed for his axe arm again.

Globhosh collapses to the ground, defeated by Degiaras!

Globhosh's weapon "Bane" falls to the ground...

Globhosh's shield "Wooden Shield" falls to the ground...

Croaker still seems ready to battle for a moment, there, holding his shield nimbly despite his wound. Then an arrow comes singing in out of the darkness, aimed true, and it pierces his side. He looses a wet, growling shout of pain. But even that brief pause is enough, and Morrandir's sword comes crashing in, cleaving into his shield and shoulder with a CRACK. The orc's shout turns to a grotesque screech, and he staggers back, somehow clinging to life. Like Gurg before him, he shouts the orc-horde onward--"Morgul," he screams weakly, "Tark-meat! To me!" But he limps back and away into the crowd as best he can.

Defeat does not come easily for an Orc of Morgul. Ouurgrat laughs as Dorionn's longsword seems to prick him but little. He roars, "Victory for the Eye!," as his grip on his scimitar tightens. Yet, looking down at his scimitar he notices a his lower intestines hanging from a gaping wound in his bloody chest. A small cloud of black blood spews forth, and he dropps to his knees as he cries out again, not this time in victory, but in defeat. Fighting to then, Ouurgrat grips at his chest, hoping in vain to hold in his innards. The breath of his chest slows, and his eyes go dim in the dark night. The once-proud Ouurgrat is no more.

As another bow sinks it's way into Kog's skin, it only spurs the gigantic beast's charge. "C'mere lil' blighters!" Kog cries, charging towards the pair. Eventually, the troll comes to a halt. Skidding softly, the troll finally comes to his first opponent. "I'm gunna suck yer bonses from yer skinny-skins, hooman. Now, stays still will I squeeshes yo'." The troll cries, taking a threatening step towards Celemagor. A hoarse, cruel chuckle passes Kog's lips as he brings the gigantic club down towards the smaller figure...

Kog attacks Celemagor with his Club, but he misses by an arm's length.

Croaker tries to flee from Morrandir, but he blocks the attempt!

Spatnaz arrives from the east.

Spatnaz has arrived.

"Not dinner this eve!" Cries the squire, even as he move sideways two paces, but no more. And his wounded leg, the right, does not seem to hinder him... Not much, anyway. For, he again avoids Shrag'kai's assult.

A low murmur escape him, as he lift the sword for one other hewn arch, "I should have brought my helmet..."

And then the sword fall, toward Shrag'kai's shoulder.

Orgthak says, "if i could fight i would have"

Findon attacks Shrag'kai with his Longsword and lightly wounds him!

Argamir gasps as the scimitar strikes cruelly upon his armored chest, the tabbard ripping to shreads, the livery of Elendil seen no more. Obviously in extreme pain, the Guardsman falls to the ground, "Arrrrggghhh!," his shout as he swings quickly at Ashnak's legs, trying to regain upright position at the same time.

Argamir attacks Ashnak with his Longsword, but Ashnak parries the attack with his Scimitar!

Azridan looks for an oppponent, his sword has clattered upon orcish armor but not found itself covered in black blood. His eyes flare with anger as he scans the forest line, then he notices a shadowy figure lurking near the hill that he and his companions had ran over. He runs towards and with a cry loud enough to even overcome the sounds of battle around him... for a moment, "For Gondor, defeat to all of mordor!!!" he rushes forward towards Spatnaz

Olorg grumbles as he watches arrow after arrow fly towards his fellow orcs down on the ground. He once again pulls an arrow out and says, "Damn crooked arrows, fly straight." Pulling the bowstring back he lets an arrow fly towards Duilin.

Olorg launches an arrow...

Olorg's arrow flies wide, doing no harm.

"Run then, fiend!" Morrandir shouts at the fleeing orc. "Lick your own wounds, and taste the bitter flesh of orcs while you dream of Gondorian meat!" He looks about at the chaos happening around him, trying to spy a new opponent.

Shrag'kai side steps once more, the humans blow rakeing across his armored shoulder, "You hit like the woman I raped the other night!" The Orc cackles, though blood pours from him in several locations. He again brings his axe forth. Swinging it, blade first, at Findons stomach.

Shrag'kai attacks Findon with his Battle Axe, but he misses by a long shot.

The shot was true. An arrow bulged from the rider's eye and blood gurgled from his throat. Then the squire attacked. Globhosh's head was swept off in a spray of blood, tumbling to the ground with the rest of his body as the riderless Wyrr sprung away.

So passed Globhosh, Rakarg and Warg Rider of the Mordain forces, discarded far from home, however wretched it may be.

Turning his bow on another, his last victim having already fallen, Duilin turns his aim on Ashnak, seeing Argamir in less than a favorable position. All the while, orc arrows bounce off branches around him. He lets loose his shot then calls down, "Do you mind. I am trying to shoot a bow down here. Go and play with someone else."

Duilin launches an arrow...

Duilin's bowshot hits Ashnak, badly wounding him.

Swiftly, Celemagor steps to the side as the massive tree size club comes cruching down. Pieces of the ground start flying from where he was. Making a feint with his torch, he thrust foward he blade, aiming for the club wielding arm of Olog. His thrust is precise, although not with to much force, as Celemagor still tries to keep a safer distance.

Celemagor attacks Kog with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

Duilin pauses, calling back down, "I'm trying to shoot at bow -up- here. Leave me be!"

Globhosh picks up Wooden Shield.

Ouurgrat picks up a scimitar.

Spatnaz glances up from the arrow wound in his shoulder, his attention drawn quickly to the bellowing bounding tark who is screaming and sprinting towards his spot of underbrush. Holding his blade down low, he slips partly behind a tree, coming out to lunge cruelly at the human's groin and then dance back behind the tree.

Spatnaz attacks Azridan with his Scimitar, but he misses by a handspan.

The Ranger Arathils turns suddenly, as a hideous black beast of an orc bears down upon him with fangs dripping. In a near panic he draws an arrow, managing to loose it only as the uruk steps within ten feet. He blinks, a sudden breath of relief as the creature drops to the ground.

Croaker might not hear tall Morrandir's taunts in the din, but he hears enough. Still, bloody pain is worse than mocking words, and he takes the opportunity, limping weakly among the orcs until he reaches the cover of wood and hill.

"And you..." Findon reply, moving back -- ever back! -- from the axe, "...Do not even hit at all."

Again, as he take a step toward th enemy, he thrust toward Shag'kai's belly attempting to open that old wound even more...

Findon attacks Shrag'kai with his Longsword and moderately wounds him!

A second decapitation to his name, Degiaras peers down at the lifeless head of his opponent, and then kneels and picks up his axe, keeping an eye out for any Mordain that may suddenly attack him. He then slips the shaft of the axe into his belt, covering the wound in his side slightly.

Olorg frowns and says, "Damned smart-arse tarks..." He is about to shoot another arrow towards Duilin when he notices a Tark attacking the Troll he was marching with earlier. Drawing a bow from his quiver he quickly aims at Celemagor and fires a shot from the vantage point of the tree.

Olorg launches an arrow...

Olorg's arrow flies wide, doing no harm.

The Teguk of Minas Morgul, detecting an attack he favors heavily, parries Argamir's swing, but takes an arrow that pierces his chest with astounding force. He howls in pain, backing off slowly from the battle with the guard. He reaches for the arrow still in his chest, yanking at it with abandon.

Degiaras picks up an axe.

Finding the underbrush hard to naviagte, Azridan slows his charge in time to see the Orcs lunge towards of all places his groin area. He pivots on his right foot the blade just barely missing his leg as he darts out of the way. Finding his momentum carying him to the right he brings his sword down from the left aiming for the Orcs shoulder, hoping his blade will find a hit, despite the partial cover the tree provides his opponent.

Khamul has arrived.

Arathil returns his attention once more to the beast of staggering height bearing down upon Celemagor. He takes a step back, for the earth shuddering beneath his feet is a sure sign that it would not be wise to be caught beneath Kog's mace. He draws an arrow, fires. At this range he has little need to aim.

Arathil launches an arrow...

Arathil's bowshot hits Kog, mildly wounding him.

Azridan attacks Spatnaz with his Longsword and badly wounds him!

Finally breaking through some underbrush to catch up to where the troll is fighting, Dorionn launches himself into battle once more, bringing his blade forward in a low swing at the troll's knee, using the momentum of his charge to assist.

The gigantic troll recoils as the Knight's blade bites into the stony flesh of the Troll. "Gar! Get ye in mah belly, worm!" The troll howls, surging foward, and aiming a hefting blow towards Celemagor. The troll holds the club with two hands, bringing the club down upon the Knight with an evil intent.

Dorionn attacks Kog with his Greatsword and mildly wounds him!

Ashnak carefully removes an arrow from himself...

The Uruk Tek'rak growls at Findon, "Will you stop tappin me with that bloody thing, and hit already!" He charges forward, swinging his axe with much might at the Humans waste. As black blood flows off the Uruk, his eyes grow ever redder. The semi-bloodied axe drip in flight, spraying the Orcs face with red blood.

Shrag'kai attacks Findon with his Battle Axe and badly wounds him!

Kog attacks Celemagor with his Club, but he misses by a mile.

After a moment of watching the battle rage about him, Degiaras spies Morrandir and calls, "Are you well sir?"

The tark longsword tears down Spatnaz's arm, shredding his leathern robe as it goes. Bleeding and wounded, he danced back behind the tree to use the woody bulk as an additional shield against the tark. Grimacing, he grits his teeth and fangs against calling out into the black and alerting more stinking human spies to his existence at the fringe of the swirling melee.

Spatnaz says in Uruk, "Stupid tark bastard, can't you see I'm trying to bind my wounds here. Go pester someone who cares."

Morrandir watches the valiant squire charging the troll, and smiles at the lad's bravery. He looks to the squire at his side. "Never better. Come Degiaras, let us try and bring the great monster down!" Shrugging his shoulders to loosen the muscles, he wastes in time in rushing to his aid, crashing through the now blood-stained foliage. "Lord Celemagor!" he greets the Herald of Minas Tirith. "We meet again, and this time not fighting each other!" He moves into a position from where he might begin to assault the troll.

Orgthak returns from beyond Middle-earth.

Taking his opportunity, the Citadel Guard Argamir leans back and jumps to his feet, his balance wavering and body shaking as he finally settles and looks upon Ashnak. Growling, he gives a sharp cry of pain as he stabs forward into Ashnak's stomach.

Argamir attacks Ashnak with his Longsword and lightly wounds him!

Suddenly changing direction in his circling defensively about the tree, Spatnaz dances back, his shield held protectively before him. Spitting a gobbet of reddish-tinged mucous into the bushes, he hacks cruelly with his blade at the tark warrior.

From the rear ranks of the Host of Dol Guldur and Mordor a rider all in black emerges. This rider approaches the fighting at a medium walk, the shape emerging from the darkness clad beneath the black robes all in a silvery mail. He holds a scimitar in his hand held before him as this creature moves along observing the fighting. As he comes, a fear accompanies him with the darkness, a fear as tangible as the horse he rides upon.

Azridan does not attack, for the Uruk does not attack him, slightly confused he yells at the Orc, "Attack me you filth of Mordor!" His sword pointed tip first at the orc as he begins circling round the tree.

Spatnaz attacks Azridan with his Scimitar and badly wounds him!

Once again, the Herald of Denethor, moves aside just as the club comes smashing down. This time his leap takes his opponent out of sword reach, but that does not stop him. Torch in hand, he steps foward toward Kog and thrust the burning stick towards the Olog.

As Olorg's arrows stop, Duilin can focus fully on the battle. As indeed, the Uruk-Hai still towers over Aragmir, and too, he looks quite upset. He takes aim once more, whispering to himself, "It has been long, old friend," and another whistle heralds a streaking shaft from Duilin.

Duilin launches an arrow...

Duilin's bowshot hits Ashnak, badly wounding him.

Attempting to take advantage of the troll's preoccupation with Celemagor, Dorionn takes in a deep breath and swipes at the creature again, his greatsword seeming infinitely less impressive against the troll than against his last orcish opponent. Putting most of his strength into the swing, he attempts once more to strike the troll, this time in the back of the leg, behind the knee.

Yet even in the midst of his furious attack, something makes the squire's head turn. A cold pricking of fear as the black rider approaches, perhaps, but it is enough to distract him at a crucial moment.

Dorionn attacks Kog with his Greatsword and mildly wounds him!

The Ranger catches some movement from the corner of his eye, and drawing an arrow he prepares to swiftly dispatch this new shadow. Yet as his eyes focus in the grim light, he freezes, arrow still drawn. A silent shudder wracks his body, and wincing he attempts to hold the arrow steady upon Khamul. Yet still his arrow does not fly.

Olorg winces as he shifts in the tree, the imbedded arrow twisting in the wound. With a curse he once again takes aim at one of the warriors down on the ground. The Troll seems capable of taking care of itself, but the ill-shooting orc seems to need the practice.

Olorg launches an arrow...

Olorg's arrow flies wide, doing no harm.

Caught unprepared for the attack the Soldier of Gondor falls backwards as the Scimitar slashes upon his leg, a deep gash as blood begins to drip quickly over the padded leather armor which now lays in serrated tatters from the Orcs weapon. He finds it a bit hard to move but the adrenaline will not allow him to stop. He thrusts forward at the Uruk's chest hoping that this pain will not be in vain. He stumbles slightly but remains on path towards his opponent.

The grim Isilrim squire appears ready to follow his knight into the fray with the troll, when a figure in black catches his eye. A single figure really shouldn't bother him that much, but some nameless terror takes him, and he cowers a little, slowing his charge towards the troll, and turning back away from the black rider.

Azridan attacks Spatnaz with his Longsword and severely wounds him!

The orc's battle axe bites into a sheath, a belt and the suit of armor underneath. Even so, the attack is forceful and... unpleasant. For, instead of the waist, Shrag'kai hit the hip as Findon attempted to step aside. Even as blood roll forth in the axes passing the Squire's visage grow even the more pale and groan escape him.

If it is the presence of the dark rider or only that wound, Squire Findon does not retaliate. Instead, he staggers back, away from Shrag'kai, but without turning from him.

The Rider kicks his horse, spurring him forward, his scimitar held high in the air as he wheels around, racing behind the Orcs and Trolls, rallying them to him and under his cruel power, urges them forward. He spins the horse around again, the black animal's mouth frothing in anger at it's master's own anger. Riding behind the thick of the battle the rider throws back his head and lets a shrill shriek be heard....

Khamul looks to the sky and lets loose a long and shrill scream.

A shrill and high-pitched wail, full of despair and evil, echoes over the area.

More and more heroes endulge themselves on the attack on Kog. The huge beast begins to flail his arms in a bezerk. Yet, suddenly, he falls still. A fear, a dread falls over his face... Yet, not a fear and dread to cuase him to fall. Nay, but it causes him to recoil, even whilst in the heat of battle. His eyes wander towards Khamul, Lieutenant of Dol Goldur. The troll chatters his teeth, freezing in his spot... That is before the Captain prods the Troll with his torch. A loud cry goes up into the sky, and another sword bites it's way into Kog. Spinning around, Kog swings his club at the nearest opponent, which happens to be Dorionn.

Duilin glances down at Olorg as an arrow whizzes by his head, "You are still there?" he questions amazed. He turns his bow down, drawing another arrow from his quiver, "If you will not learn to run when you should, then you shall not run at all," he laughs, obviously amused at the encounter.

Kog attacks Dorionn with his Club and terribly wounds him!

Ashnak takes two more hits from two different enemies with the distraction of removing himself from the status of orcish shishkabob. He moves to retreat with a groan, but at the approach of the Lord of Dol Guldur, Ashank howls with furry. With the wail, he screams, charging the guard with the froth of madness flecking his lips.

Duilin glances down at Olorg as an arrow whizzes by his head, "You are still there?" he questions amazed. He turns his bow down, drawing another arrow from his quiver, "If you will not learn to run when you should, then you shall not run at all," he laughs, obviously amused at the encounter. But a shrill screech emits, and Duilin's concentration is lost as the arrow tumbles from his hands as nearly does his bow, "By the Valar! What was that?" he says, all mirth gone from his voice.

Spatnaz staggers back under the force of the blow, his torn shield barely catching enough of the brunt of that impact to direct it away from killing him outright. Stumbling backwards, he flails wildly to knock the sword back and falls partly to one knee as his foot catches on some bit of undergrowth. Pausing momentarily to watch his opponent, his spine suddenly stiffens as his ears fill with the shrill shriek of the Nazgul's wail.

Ashnak attacks Argamir with his Scimitar and lightly wounds him!

Shrag'kais war cry is cut short, his eyes widen. The scream that sweeps the area seems to pain him, as his wrinkled face grimices. "You know what that is, Tark? Its the sound of death. If your lucky, I'll kill you before it does!"

Seemingly regaining his strength, he charges forward at the stunned human, makeing a wild blow towards his very face! Yet there is a hint of fear in his eyes, and his blow is not as strong as before.

Shrag'kai attacks Findon with his Battle Axe, but he misses by a hair.

"N-No..." Morrandir mutters, hearing the terrifying yet familiar scream. "Not one of them..." His sword arm falls limply to his side, and he stops his charge toward the troll. The 'brave' Knight glances wildly about, finally spotting the terrible black figure. His face pales, though he lifts his sword once again and grimly makes for the troll, stabbing at the creature's leg.

Morrandir attacks Kog with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

The soldiers eyes turn to the main throws of battle as the Nazgul enters the fray, his eyes do not beleive the sight of the terrible black cloaked figure. His sword and shield still pointed towards Spatnaz, he shakes his head as the shriek of the Nazgul runs through his body making every bone seem as if it were ice.

Olorg's head jerks around towards the sound of the shrill scream. The orc winces, "Nazguuls.." He then glances up to the human who had been taunting him, "Tis your death... Tark." Taking another arrow of the little supply he has left and fires toward the archer in a vain attempt at hitting anything.

Olorg launches an arrow...

Olorg's bowshot hits Duilin, lightly wounding him.

Almost completely unnerved by the dark rider's shriek, Dorionn flings one hand defensively in front of his face as if that will somehow block out the noise, lowering his blade from its usual defensive position. Unfortunately for the squire, Kog strikes at him at that very moment, the club slamming squarely into his side and sending him flying. Thrown to the ground a number of feet away, Dorionn loses his grip on his greatsword as he lands face down on the dry ground, apparently stunned.

And suddenly the Ranger Arathil can no longer control the trembling of his hands... as the horrible shrill pierces the night, his drawn arrow flies uncontrolled from his bow toward the Dark Rider. His teeth start chattering, and he turns his gaze completely away from the creature.

Arathil launches an arrow...

Arathil's arrow flies wide, doing no harm.

Degiaras stops his retreating, for just a moment as he tries to steel his will to the terror on the battle ground. He grips his sword tightly and murmurs to himself, "I am a Squire of Gondor, I am not afraid of shadows...I am a man..." and so on is his mantra. He slowly closes his eyes as he does this, and when they are both completly closed he begins to shake slightly, and continue to back away.

As his torch hits his target, a sudden chill grabs hold of Celemagor and he takes afew steps back. He looks around him quickly, yet between the chaos of the battle field and the troll holding most of his attention, he sees nothing. His attention is back upon Kog fully once more, as he see the huge club swinging and hiting the knight. Take the opportunity, Celemagor steps fowards, yet with uneasy steps the uneasy feeling still within him. In an arc, his blade swings, towards the huge leg of Kog.

Celemagor attacks Kog with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

"With..." Findon say, even as he crouch under Shrag'kai's axe avoiding it only narrowly, "...Such a skill as yours?" And even though the tone is firm the sea grey eyes flickers toward the Dark Rider more than once. Fear, is it not?

And then, Findon hew's again, toward Shrag'kai's knee.

Findon attacks Shrag'kai with his Longsword and moderately wounds him!

Argamir grunts, as the scimitar of Ashnak connects firmly with his armor, the tabbard again shredded, armor now fully visible upon his chest. Groaning as he stumbles back, a strange look passes through his face as eyes tack a look at the Nazgul, he stares with fear embedded in his eyes for the greater part of a moment, his mouth opening, "Fo...r Gon...," he croaks, voice fainted.

Looking upon Ashnak, he grunts again, yet face void of the former determination, he swings his sword lightly at the man's arm, no conviction at all.

Argamir attacks Ashnak with his Longsword, but Ashnak parries the attack with his shield!

"Skai!" Kog roars, peering back at Celemagor. "Yoo' sting like a buumbly bee! Stay where ya needs ta be, an' I'll give ya bloody good thumpin' ta remember me by, see?" The huge troll takes a single step towards Celemagor, towering over the Captain. Bloodied fangs drip saliva as the troll looms over Celemagor, bringing the club down upon him with two hands in a powerfull smite..

Kog attacks Celemagor with his Club and badly wounds him!

Duilin shudders at the sight of the black rider, and at once turns away, glancing back down at the orc archer, shouting with ire rather than mirth, "It seems a new trick has been put upon us, but you shall not gain anything from it!" But his words are cut off as the orc's shot hits his chest, sticking deep in the leather armor. He raises his bow, nocking an arrow slowly, grimacing all the while and lets it fly towards Olorg.

Duilin launches an arrow...

Duilin's bowshot hits Olorg, mortally wounding him.

Spatnaz takes the moment while the tark warrior is staring dumbfounded at the approaching Black Robed Portent of Doom and Despair to wrench his foot free of the rooty prison that had bound it up while he was backpedalling. Taking another step back from the Gondorian, blood dripping from several wounds to his own body, the uruk shaman's fighting spirit and resolve are invigorated by the Nazgul. Calling out in the black tongue of Mordor, he bellows " *** **** the ***! **** **** the ***** ** the **** ****!"

The Rider drops the reins to his horse and sheathes his scimitar. From the side of his horse he takes his bow and looks around for targets of his wrath.. He spurs his horse forward, a path opening up before him of ally and foe alike. He lifts his bow and looks among the Gondorians around him...

Khamul holds the black Ebony Bow of Mordor before him, a black feathered arrow already nocked and ready to be sent flying.

Khamul launches an arrow...

Khamul's bowshot hits Duilin, badly wounding him.

findons blow finds it mark, slashing across the Orcs knee, and bringing him down to a kneeling position. "Bloody hell that hurt!" He grunt, nearly out of breath. "If I was you, I'd kneel down...!" He sends an awekward blow at Findons knees, wrenching his own bloodied should and causeing a squirt of black blood to spray through the links of his chainmail. "...Less you want the Black Rider to do my job for me, and It will be much more unpleseant!" He growls through clenched teeth. Pain in his eyes and blood on his breath.

Shrag'kai attacks Findon with his Battle Axe, but Findon parries the attack with his Longsword!

"Dorionn! Get up, lad!" Morrandir steps back from the troll, and looks to the stricken squire. "Get up!" he repeats, ere turning back to the mighty Olog. He aims a thrust at the beast's side, his shield raised to protect his head.

Morrandir attacks Kog with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

The shrieks of the Nazgul cut Celemagor's heart just as they cut trhough the air and even as he strikes the Olog, he quickle glances around him. Alas that was his mistake, with his attention somewhere else, the Captain did not see the huge club coming down towards him.

He tries to leap away from the attack but the wooden weapon hits his target and sends Celemagor to the ground, torch flying wide. He slowly raises himself, sword still in hand. He stares at Kog, breathing heavelly and taking another step back. At lenght he raises his voice, once some strength comes back.

Celemagor +shouts, "Fall Back!"

Scowling, Ashnak throws up his shield, blocking the attack. He looks back at Khamul, diving for retreat from the guard Argamir.

Arathil backpedals from the approaching Rider, his eyes desperately seeking something besides the terrible creature wiping a path through the battlefield. He falls upon his back, yet continues to scurry away. He draws another arrow, yet it seems mostly from instinct.

Ashnak tries to flee from Argamir, but he fails!

The sight of a charging Nazgul almost sends Degiaras fleeing for the hinterlands, but he is a son of the great men of Numenor. He spies a fallen comrade and grits his teeth, charging forward to help the fallen Dorionn, a scream of his own issues forth from his throat.

Olorg yelps painfully as the new arrow catches the orc under the ribs. Sliding back over the branch the orc slips... falling... falling. He wildly scrambles for a hold and catches the side of the tree. His claws dig lightly into the bark and he slides loudly down the side of the tree, sending debris in all directions until finally he lands with a thump in some of the tree's underbrush. While the orc cannot be seen, a groan emits from the underbrush.

Khamul looks to the sky and lets loose a long and shrill scream.

A shrill and high-pitched wail, full of despair and evil, echoes over the area.

His hands shaking from the mere sight of the rider and his head slowly stops shaking as the sound finally dies from his ears. But not from his memory... no, he will always remember it... His eyes turn to his opponent and with a fire inside them, the woods hide the sight of the approaching rider, and the call to flee he will not aknowledge until this Uruk is dead. "Attack me you filth... The eye will fail... you ALL WILL FAIL!!" he charges at the Orc, still out of attacking range.

His hands shaking from the mere sight of the rider and his head slowly stops shaking as the sound finally dies from his ears. But not from his memory... no, he will always remember it... His eyes turn to his opponent and with a fire inside them, the woods hide the sight of the approaching rider, and the call to flee he will not aknowledge until this Uruk is dead. "Attack me you filth... The eye will fail... you ALL WILL FAIL!!" he charges at the Orc, still out of attacking range.

Azridans eyes fill with fear once more as the shrill fills his body once more.... yet he pushes forward... he knows not how, perhaps he wishes to flee through his opponent.

Picking himself up off the ground, Dorionn struggles onto his hands and knees before grabbing for his blade once more. Lifting his head when he hears Morrandir's words, the squire puts more effort into rising and regains his feet. "Gondor!" he calls, but his voice is thin and weak, and easily drowned out by the black rider's cry. Suddenly overwhelmed by terror and despair, the squire charges into battle, swinging at the troll's form with eyes blinded by tears.

Dorionn attacks Kog with his Greatsword and mildly wounds him!

The arrow leaves the foul, ebony bow of Mordor, slicing through the air, it sprints through the tree and lands solidly in Duilin's midsection, pinning him against the tree. He grits his teeth, no scream yet emitting. His hand reaches back to his quiver, his lips curling in a cruel grin. He takes his arrow, nocks it and draws back the string, "And so you die." And his arrow is loosed.

Duilin launches an arrow...

Duilin's bowshot hits Olorg, fatally wounding him.

The Rider shrieks a second time then looks around for another target. His horse is anxious and stamps the ground up dirt and mud around it's hooves while the rider stands in his stirrups, drawing back his bow once more..

Celemagor takes off Studded Leather Shield.

Khamul launches an arrow...

Khamul's bowshot hits Duilin, lightly wounding him.

The tip of Morrandir's blade finds it's way through Kog's thick skin. With surprising dexterity, the troll spins to meet Morrandir. "Hah! Haw-ha!" He cries, his devilishly disfigured eyes peering at Morrandir as he laughs a discorded laugh. "Stick me, will ya? I'll bloody punch ya till ya burst, ye maggot! Keep yer nose outta dis, hooman." The troll now steps towards Morrandir, looming above him. The troll's alcohalic breath wafes in the air as he bellows a war cry at Morrandir. He brings the club down upon the human, simply flinching as Dorionn makes good his attack.

Kog attacks Morrandir with his Club and badly wounds him!

Crouching among the dirt and leaves, the Ranger suddenly seems less the shining beacon in the defense of his lands. But yet even now duty does not fail him completely. He ducks away as Khamul launches a second arrow against Duilin, and rising to his knees he fires another barb in to the murky blackness. His arrow seeking once more the massive Troll, Kog.

Arathil launches an arrow...

Arathil's bowshot hits Kog, mildly wounding him.

Duilin's arrow meets no resistance from the already fallen orc, simply sticking into his lower chest. The orc stops moving, simply laying there in the underbrush of the tree looking upward towards the tree.

The scream drives all color from Degiaras' face, and yet again he looks to be about to flee, when his knight gets struck by the Troll. He grimaces and presses forwards, driven by a madness mayhaps deeper into the fray. When he arrives at Morrandir's side he grunts, "We gotta get outta here now sir."

But Duilin's victory is short. The evil riders second shot is far less damaging, physically at least. It scrapes along his forehead, leaving a sliver of a cut across it that quickly begins to bleed. Breathing hard, he reaches for the feathered tip of the shaft deep in him and breaks it off, pulling his body off the shaft. His grunts are far from soft, and his movement is slow.

Argamir seems not to hear the call of Celemagor, or he ignores it, as he charges once more at Ashnak, yet his eyes are confused as all he glimses is the back of the retreating captain. Giving another cry, deep with pain, his face fills with anger, turning around in circles for more blood to shed, he charges upon the troll assaulting the two from Dol Amroth, another deep cry heard as he charges upon Kog and swings with his sword at its side.

Celemagor +shouts, "Fall back!"

Celemagor shouts again, just as the Olog get another hit upon the knight. Grabing his sword hilt more tightly, Celemagor makes his way towards Kog once more. Mustering all the strength he can, he thrusts his sword towards the leg of the troll.

Celemagor attacks Kog with his Longsword and lightly wounds him!

Morrandir does not need to be told to fall back. At the second scream of the Black Rider he almost falters, then does so as the troll hits him. The club strikes his shield, but crushes the man beneath. Broken and bleeding, Morrandir picks himself up and limps away as fast as he can.

"Fall back!" he rasps. "Fall back!"

Argamir attacks Kog with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

Khamul watches one of the knights of Gondor, Argamir, foolishly ignore the call to retreat and charges forward instead. Seeing this one move beyond the others the Black Rider quickly puts away his bow and draws his scimitar. Charging forward, he rides up to where Argamir and Kog fight..

The song of iron and steel, axe and longsword... How ill it sounds.

Against an oponent such as his, and in a position such as his, Findon has no other choice but parry. And he tries, sword lowered and hewn at Shrag'kai's axe, as he step back. However, the success of it can be discussed. For, the axe is only lightly hindered, and pass by the squire's knee.

And without thinking, he takes up Morrandirs and Celemagors cry, "Fall back!"

And he follows his own advice, half limping, half leaping northward.

Khamul brings forth an evil, curved scimitar made entirely of black metal from the sheath within his cloak. Figures enscribed along its length shine dimly in gold, forming Black Speech letters scrawled thinly across the blade. If one has the will and knowledge to examine them, they may be read as follows: " The ***** ** ****** is the ***** ** *****."

Degiaras grunts and bends to help his Knight, he actually picks him up, and starts to carry him from the field, being not nearly as ruined as is the Wolfsbane. "C'mon sir, we're gonna get you back to the White Tower if I have to carry you on my back the whole way."

Findon dodges aside Shrag'kai, and manages to escape!

Findon descends to the forest to the north.

Findon has left.

"Let go of me!" Morrandir growls, thrashing about with what little strength he has left and falling from Degiaras' graps. "Help Dorionn! He is in worse repair than I." Picking himself up, he continues his slow retreat.

Riding forward at a gallop, the robes flowing behind him in the wind, the Black Easterling swipes his scimitar at head level, striking towards Argamir with all his power..

Khamul attacks Argamir with his Scimitar and badly wounds him!

"Argamir, fall back!", comes an unexpected shout from a Ranger as he watches from the shadows. He cringes as the dark mass of the Nazgul bears down upon the man, and he offers only what little help he may. Rising to his feet, he draws one last arrow, shuddering even as he knocks it to his bow. He focuses, the cringes again, and releases the arrow even as he turns to flee.

Obviously still dazed from the blow that knocked him flat earlier, Dorionn begins backing away from the troll once the cries of 'Fall back' begin to sound around him. "Serendur?" he asks, still looking around for the boy in a dazed manner even as he begins backing away. Lifting his gaze, he finds himself looking at the dark rider, a sight which is enough to make the squire break for the nearest, which takes him in a slightly different direction from the others.

Arathil launches an arrow...

Arathil's bowshot hits Khamul, mildly wounding him.

"Bloody beggas!" Kog roars, "Ye won't be goin' no w'ere, my pretties! Yer all goin' in my tum-tums, ain't that ro-ight.." The troll pauses, peering around the horde that fruitlessly tries to asail the troll, It's then, when Argamir's longsword finds it's way into Kog's leg. Hissing, Kog takes a step towards Argamir, "Sting! STING! I'll bloody crush ya!" The troll cries, rushing towards Argamir.. Yet, he halts as Khamul strikes his prey. Kog shudders softly, gritting his teeth, and waiting for Khamul to make his strike. And as he does, Kog brings his club down upon Argamir with an unrivaled anger.

Kog attacks Argamir with his Club and badly wounds him!

Pulling free of the foul creature's arrow, blood freely dripping from his side. He glances towards the battle field. Seeing the fell rider attack Argamir, he sits down onto his branch, now slick with blood. He takes up his bow, and draws an arrow, shivering. He shouts out, to any who would hear, "Run fool!" Taking aim at the rider, hand slick and shivering, he pauses. Closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath, Duilin waits till he is still. His eyes dart open and his arrow is loosed, before he has a moment to fear.

Duilin launches an arrow...

Duilin's bowshot hits Khamul, mildly wounding him.

Degiaras nods dumbly, and turns back to help Dorionn, this time he takes off at a brisker pace, and when Dorionn starts running away from him he curses quietly and calls, "Dorionn! Flee not from your friends or I'll show you wrath when we get back to Minas Tirith."

Azridan seems to dance with his Orc opponent, in between trees and brush. Sword swing after sword swing he comes up short. He does not retreat, he does not move forward, he only wishes to kill this Uruk. "Attack me you COWARD!" he rushes at him once again to get the orcs blade upon him so he may strike.

From the ancient gauntlet of one of the Nine, who's name is rarely known among any save a few of the wise, and among them even less uttered, an arrow of Gondor sticks, finding its mark. More symbolic than damaging perhaps, an attempt to stop the unstoppable and to harm the immortal, this arrow is ignored. His left gauntlet grips the reigns still as the Rider spins his horse about, looking towards his foe and heedless of the pin in his hand.

The still kneeling Shrag'kai gives a yell at the fleeing Human, "Bloody Tark! Ive been hurt worse while sharpening my own axe!" His bloodied body pushes itself to his feet with a loud groan. He begins to limp back, bloodied axe held loosly in his grasp. He stagers, and nearly fals once or twice as he moves to retreat. He gives aid to those fallen as he passes by.

His dark crimson eyes find the Nazgul, and are locked there for a moment, dazed and confused it would seem. He shivers violently for a moment. Possible from bloodloss, or the evil presence. Or maybe both. Who knows. Yet now he falls back. The head of his axe lightly draging the ground.

"Run Argarmir!" Celemagor shouts, as he takes advantage of Kogs distraction. His sword goes high (or low for his opponent) and aimed between the legs of the Olog. The tip of the Gondorian steel cuts through the air and towards its target, but once again not too much strength goes into the attack.

Celemagor attacks Kog with his Longsword and lightly wounds him!

Terror strikes Duilin as the rider turns, and he curses under his breath. His bow drops from his hand, and he looks behind him to the other branches of the tree. Slowly, he attempts to put the trunk of the great tree between him and the rider, but he is injured, and his movements are not as deft as they once were.

Duilin unwields Longbow.

Tarnak arrives from the east.

Tarnak has arrived.

A discorded, twisted cry escapes the fat beast's maw as he spins around. The troll lets out a long, drawn out groan. Staggering, it falls to it's knees. "Uuuuuh... My jum-jums.. Ya hurted me jum-jums..." The troll groans, a painfull look set amongst his eyes as he begins to whimper. Then, suddenly, and unexpectedly, with the wrath of pain, the Olog lashes out a light strike at the attack lest he flee before he gets his payment.

Kog attacks Celemagor with his Club, but Celemagor parries the attack with his Longsword!

Morrandir descends to the forest to the north.

Morrandir has left.

A second arrow strikes one of the Nine, but it does not stick and no harm can be seen but a slight cut in the fabric of his robes on his shoulder. However, the Nazgul's attention was drawn by it and, once more seeing the archer he had shot earlier, he turns and charges towards the wounded Duilin.

Stopping and turning when Degiaras calls his name, Dorionn peers blearily back towards the battle, swaying slightly as he does so. Still clutching his sword with one bloodied hand, he says to Degiaras, "We have to run. Why are you still here?" Then, at last he starts retreating again, but this time in the correct direction, his earlier confusion excusable, since the Nazgul is charging in the same direction.

So too does Arathil shrink back into the shadows, any thoughts of Argamir wiped from his mind as he scurries. But yet his arrow did land upon its target, the effort of all the strength he could muster. If Khamul bleeds, he bleeds only shadow-- terrible engulfing darkness that the Ranger desperately attempts to flee.

A Gondorian soldier, running out of the dark forest, skids and diverts course. Ostrondo heard the calls to fall back, and the pain stabbing through his shoulder seems a clear prompting to follow orders. Skirting around major groups of the enemy, the boy tries to get through the chaos to follow command and fall back to the north.

"I'm not that blind or stupid Dorionn. Sir Morrandir sent me to help you off the field." Degiaras replies, as he makes it quickly to Dorionn, "How badly are you injured?" He asks, glancing over his shoulder quickly to make sure no pursuit is upon them.

Spatnaz snarls angrily at the determined tark warrior as he steps back onto the thin windy game-trail, the human soldier plodding along after him like some lost hungry puppy who has decided to adopt this bleeding uruk-hai. " Hah! Can't think of anything better to do than to follow me? What of your stupid officer's calls?"

Celemagor raises his sword in time, wood and steel clashes together. The force of the impact is big enough, to send the sword arm of the Captain backwards. Tired and injured, Celemagor steps back, away from the Troll yet he does not turn his back on his opponent yet.

Spatnaz spits angrily, " Gondorian scum, flee home to your mother!"

Spatnaz says in Morbeth, "***, I ***** *** a little **** ****. I ***** **** ********** **** *** *******."

Behind the wounded soldier Ostrondo comes a new tide of doom, in the form of Tarnak and his Dogs. Beneath the banner of Dol Guldur, they come, blood drenched and howling a promise of death to the cowering Tarks! At their head, the rolling gate of Tarnak brings him into the fray, peering around for enemies to lead his boys against.

Khamul rides to where the archer hides up in the tree.. He hesitates, the spaces clearing about him, looking up to see the figure there. From within his helm comes a sound, frightening to hear, but as you listen the volume increases, it is laughter.. He rides around the tree looking at the helpless squirell stuck up in it and the laughter rises as the archer attempts to move from tree to tree.

Azridan abandons his target and turns to face the north, his feet beginning to feel weak from the loss of blood from his left leg. He begins to hobble along trying to find his comrades, the red blood staining the leaves as he runs through the thick underbrush from his heavily bleeding opponent. "Another day.. Filth..."

Argamir shudders as the sword strikes Kog, not turning around has the Nazgul approaches, no doubt he can feel the presence of the evil being, frozen in fear he begins to turn just as scimiar collects his chest, the bloody-curdling cry emitted from the downed Guardsman as he is thrown against the troll, the rings of his mail armor broken and twisted, the slow stain of red filling across his chest.

Eyes staring upwards, distant, Argamir is thrown back into the battle with the strike of the troll against his already pierced chest, the dull thud of breaking ribs heard faintly, his body thrown upwards against the ground, and away from the troll.

Lying there, he slowly gets up as his dazed eyes glance from person to person, he shouts out in a pained voice, "For Gondor! For Gondor!," blood appearing at his mouth, as he gets up slowly and steadies himself, sword still in clenched hand.

Looking not behind him, Duilin takes hold of a branch and pulls himself over to it, grunting. Sitting, now his back to the trunk of the tree, and the battle in general, he looks up. Standing slowly, using the trunk to stable him, he reaches up and pulls himself up to a higher level. Pausing as the rider laughs at him, he waits till his shudders subside before taking hold of a branch above him and walking out upon the one he is on. Speeding up his pace as no longer his will, but fear carries him now forward, he heads towards the next tree over.

The laughter continues as with someone with the comfort of time, he sheathes his scimitar called Gorhun and once again withdraws his bow. Taking easy aim, he looks again up into the tree and draws back his arrow, taking careful and slow movements, the bow is flexed..

Khamul holds the black Ebony Bow of Mordor before him, a black feathered arrow already nocked and ready to be sent flying.

After Kog's fruitless attack, the troll falls to the ground, gripping his crotch as he doubles over in pain. He begins to utter words of pain in a hi-pitched, yet hoarse voice. "Me jummy-jums.. Oohharrh... Dey bangded me goolies.." He whimpers, groaning as he rolls over in pain. Eventually, he staggers to his feet, bewildered and in pain.

Khamul launches an arrow...

Khamul's bowshot hits Duilin, lightly wounding him.

Serendur is coming too, out of the underbrush. Wounded it seems, by the look of his arm...blood streaming down the entire side, plus his clothes are mostly in tatters. It's been a rough and tumble night so far, and it is just about to get worse. The fact that there is one of the Nine shrieking in the area right now makes the eyes bug out. Pain is almost forgotten by the fear. Now, the only instinct is to follow everyone straight out of here. Run, young page, run. Though, some shred of sense makes him glance for his comrades...or could that be stupidity?

"My arm," answers Dorionn hoarsely, "I can't use my left arm." Fleeing now through the same woods as the others, he looks around once more, saying, "I told the boy I'd try to protect him. but I lost him. I lost him, Degiaras!"

The Citadel Guard Argamir begins to walk, sword dragging by his side

Spatnaz sneers with angry disrespect at the weak tark warrior, Azridan, as the human slips off into the underbrush like a whipped little boy running home to mother. " Yeah, and **** the ***** **** **** **** Spatnaz **** *** and ***** ******* *** *** ** ********* **** to ****."

A figure runs from the east, the young soldier Rithluzar, where some more battle too place, coming out of the underbrush, seemingly hunched over slightly as blood flows from a gash across his stomach, he slows, looking about for those Gondorians still in the battle, not wishing to leave without them, and meaning not to as he stops, making certain he is not leaving anyone behind.

The rout around Ostrondo is a worse sort of chaos than he saw when he arrived and, and even the weight of his shield seems almost more than his wonded arm can bear. His fleeing turns sporatic now, as he tries to weave through the fighting and avoid the enemy.

Seeing Ostrondo as he runs from the dense forest into the clearing once more, "Ostrondo!, over here!" he yells. His eyes following his friend, hoping that the Nazgul does not see him. He runs as fast as he can, half hopping, half dragging his left leg.

Another arrow wizzes by Duilin, slicing lightly into his calve, but it does not slow his pace. Nearly frantically, he begins to move from branch to branch, tree to tree.

As Arathil moves deeper into the shadows, his eyes find some relief. For Tarnak's arrival brings forth a target the Ranger is well-accustomed to dealing with. His eyes look past the Dogs of war, and pulling an arrow from his quiver he seeks instead their apparent leader. With a rush of wind, his arrow flies loose upon Tarnak.

Arathil launches an arrow...

Arathil's arrow flies wide, doing no harm.

Khamul keeps looking up at Duilin, no longer laughing, but there is still an almost playful attitude expressed by the prancing of his horse. He moves the horse sideways for another shot, taking target practice at the tark among the leaves..

Khamul launches an arrow...

Khamul's bowshot hits Duilin, lightly wounding him.

Another shot rings, skimming across Duilin back and sticking into his quiver. Whether or not his notices, he gives no sign, for his pace has not slowed.

The Citadel Guard Argamir begins to walk, sword dragging by his side, trail of blood beginning from his half opened mouth down his chin, his direction is vague yet generally in the area of home. Body shaking with spasms, he falls to his knee's regularly, yet only moments later regain his footing.

His face seems still as he reaches the trees, he shouts out once more, "For Gondor!," as he falls again at the beginings of refuge.

"Azridan!" Ostrondo calls back, all thoughts of resentment against the older soldier forgotten in the blood and filth around them. He crashes into a tree, perhaps intentionally to regain some strength, before launching himself in Azridan's direction. "You're injured, we must flee, now." Blood loss gives the boy an amazing sense of the obvious, and the young man keeps an eye open as he reaches the other, mindful of the gleeful enemy still roaming about.

The sound of an arrow streaking in cuts through Tarnak's hearing like a cracking ship, his head ducking as he spins to locate the culprit. Half expecting to see a fellow orc, he hoots with happiness when he spots a larger form in the trees. Words are shared with the troops as they fan out and stalk the Ranger in the shadows. "Come out and fight, Tark!"

Serendur is here, Dorionn! Well, not that it would be a good thing...with that spectre hunting. He has the dagger still, but that hasn't done him any good at all. Not a single time did he even get the chance to draw blood...and yet, here he is, injured by the blades of the enemy. The fact that he is only holding to see if there's anyone whose favor he can repay in the flight.

As Kog gets his bearing back, he glances over the battle field. Orcs lay dead, yet the contingent stands their ground, and the Rangers, Squires, Knights and Captains flee. With one hand attatched to his groin, and the other shaking in the air in muted anger, Kog remains broken, but victorious.. For now. "MORGOOL VICTOR!" The huge brute cries after the fleeing 'tarks'.

Drawing back his bow from horseback, the Nazgul seems to grow tired of this game... But not quite yet. He sees the threat of the Gondorians faded almost entirely, but this one has struck him with an arrow and must be answered..

Khamul launches an arrow...

Khamul's bowshot hits Duilin, badly wounding him.

A stray Uruk flies towards the pair of Soldiers. Azridan with the amount of strenght he has left from blood loss raises his sword and thrusts it into its chest, with a slight gurgle it falls to the ground, sliding of the sword. Then he puts his arm around Ostrondo. To perhaps balance himself... or the Younger one. "Lets get out of here." with that he begins hobbling towards the forest in the north, seeking shelter in the underbrush.

For the moment the Ranger remains crouched, and the only answer he offers to Tarnak is the quiet rasp of another arrow being drawn from his leather quiver. He focuses upon Tarnak, for any creature that would shout so eagerly for pain certainly deserves it. Another wisp and his arrow is gone.

Arathil launches an arrow...

Arathil's bowshot hits Tarnak, moderately wounding him.

Degiaras grunts, "I did not see the boy fall, mayhaps he survived the onslaught and fled when the shadow of Mordor appeared. Do not lose hope brother squire...but make haste to get out of here. I do not wish to be in the presence of that thing any longer."

Spatnaz slinks quietly into the underbrush off the trail, leaving his own trails of blood here and there on plants and dirt as he half-crawls out of sight into a dense copse of wood to bind his wounds.

The next shot is not so grazing, as it skims across the man's buttocks, cutting a large gash in it. He yelps, nearly losing his footing. Cursing with each step, he makes his ways still, for pain no longer matters in this encounter, but surviving.

Spotting Argamir's difficulties, the young soldier Rithluzar hurries over to him quickly, seeing that Ostrondo has Azridan to care for him. Racing to reach the man, he avoids arrows and Orcs as he runs, determined to aid this man. Upon reaching him, the man is upon his knees, and nearly to the wood's edge. Kneeling down beside the man, he quickly speaks. "Allow me to aid you...." is all he says as he moves to slip his right arm about the man, shoulder under his, sword still in hand, shield on his arm, but trying to help Argamir arrive to safety quicker so as not to be overtaken by the Orcs.

Nodding to Degiaras, Dorionn leads the way into the woods, away from the flurry of battle and the stench of the orcs. And above all away from the almost palpable fear and terror, that has not yet directed its attention at the pair of fleeing squires.

Tarnak has just enough time to frown at the sound and sight before Arathil's arrow buries itself into his torso. Slammed backward into a spin, the orc almost loses his weapon with the impact. Coming to his knees, he coughs as he fights for air and points, "Rush him.." Falling forward, Tarnak leans on one arm and tries to remove the arrow, screaming in pain and frustration when it fails to dislodge. Meanwhile, his troops sprint in a pack toward the Ranger, fighting to push one another infront to be shot next.. There are perhaps a half dozen of them.

The Citadel Guard lurges, blood continuing to splurt from his mouth, "For Gondor," he says quietly, to himself, as he seems not aware of the help.

Steadying to his feet, the Guardsman looks to the soldier besides he and frowns, "I am fine, get out yourself," as he begins to move towards the trees.

With a chuckle, the Rider pulls what seems to be the final arrow. Although there is more, it seems from his attitude that this is the last shot of his game. He draws back his bow and with a steady aim, lets the last shot fly.

Khamul launches an arrow...

Khamul's bowshot hits Duilin, severely wounding him.

Having reached a safe distance, Celemagor turns around and heads towards the woods. At the edge of the forest, he stops near Aragamir and the rest. Without a word, he helps the Citadel Guard to his feet.

"You may be fine..." the soldier allows, sparing a glance to the man beside him. "but we are leaving together. So you best hurry if you wish for me to leave quicker." With that said he remains at the man's side, aiding him along, unwielding in his dedication to aid the man.

Taking the offered help, Ostrondo says nothing as he makes his way out of the carnage with the others.

Still seemingly patient, Arathil draws another arrow. But a quick glance to his quiver brings a different expression, for his arsenal quickly dwindles. Shaking his head, he targets one of the rushing creatures and fires, rewarded by a shrill screach of pain in the darkness. He reaches for another arrow.

Argamir falls silent, as now two assist him, his breathing harshly obsecured, a gurgling noise heard with every breath.

Standing again now, Tarnak snaps off the arrow along the shaft with a grunt, his legs buckling slightly with the pain. Shaking his head to drive away the stars he sees, he shuffles into a run that will bring him beghind his guards to clash with the archer in the shadows.

Arathil fires again. In the shadows another hideous creature falls to the dirt. But yet they converge faster than the Ranger can draw... Seemingly flustered now he pulls the leather mask back over his face, and dropping the longbow to the earth reaches for his longsword and awaits the first uruk to reach him.

Arathil draws his longsword.

Arathil draws a leather mask over his face.

'Thunck!'

"Argh!" Duilin cries, as the rider's shot wedges itself into his rear once more. He slips and falls, grasping at branches to slow his descent as he bounces down the tree, finally landing on the ground with a thud, a single arrow sticking straight out from his back.

But he struggles to his feet, and runs, well, more limps, as if death was upon his back... which it is.

The once proud soldiers of gondor now lie in bloody heaps upon the ground of this battlefield. Covered in Crimson and Sable, the Dark soldiers of Mordor lay next to them in their never ending struggle even in death. Swords, axes, scimitars embedded in dark and light flesh alike.

All that now lives on this battlefield is darkness and the Mordain survivors, led by the foul screeches of Khamul.

Roaring and spitting with rage, the Uruks descend on Arathil, seemingly the last pocket of battle on the field. From amongst them comes Tarnak, his armor already stained with black blood. A redness covers part of his features, evidently the life blood of a Gondorian soldier. Snarling, he brings his axe down in an arc...

Tarnak attacks Arathil with his Battle Axe, but he misses by a long shot.

Khamul quickly side steps his horse as the Gondorian falls with a heavy thud next to him. He watches the tark stand up, heavily wounded with arrows piercing him terribly, but makes no move to follow. A quiet hiss emerges from his helm as he wheels his horse around and, observing that the battle has been won, rides again towards the back, an eye kept towards the coming of the dawn.

Arathil ducks away from this hack, yet nearly walking into another gruesome axe as the orcs begin to circle about the Ranger. He snarls, kicking one of the creatures away from him to gain some space. His longsword circles about quickly, a swipe at Tarnak's midsection even as he backpedals.

Arathil attacks Tarnak with his Longsword and badly wounds him!

Argamir walks silently, flanked on both sides by Celemagor and Rithluzar, he turns around as the sounds of battle continue, yet eyes do not focus, he trudges down the slopes to the north.

Crying in pain, Tarnak backpedals, holding his midriff in agony. Black fluid spills over his fingers, dripping to the leaf debris at his feet. Around him, the orcs snarl and press the attack, falling beneath the Ranger's blows. A growl begins deep in Tarnak's throat, becoming a roar as he closes again to swing at the Ranger's hips.

Tarnak attacks Arathil with his Battle Axe, but he misses by a mile.

Arathil dodges back, a smirk lighting his features. He shakes his head sadly as the blade passes harmlessly by. "Leave now, creature, and you may live to fight again." Passing the his longsword from hand to hand, he backs away from Tarnak. As one of the other orcs charges in, he backpedals once more. "Follow me if you wish, dogs, and meet your end." He turns and quickly jogs further into the treeline.

Spitting and cursing the Ranger, the two orcs and Tarnak do not advance, all too happy to let the deadly warrior leave. Of course, their words do not suggest as much. As he disappears, they too leave the shadows, heading out to search among the dead.