Elendor
"You shot my pony."
Ranol runs into Grishnakh, the urak-hai.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Anduin
IC Time: Evening
Description: Ranol is escaping the dwarven camp, taking advantage of rank to shluff off some duties to others and get away by himself for a ride. The dwarf is riding a sturdy gray pony along the path that follows the river, his pace slow and easy. He has his shield on his left arm, but the short broadsword hanging at his side is sheathed. It's late afternoon and the sun is just beginning it's decline in the sky, but already there are long shadows from the mountains to the west, darkening the lands.
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
The orcs dart in and out among the high grasses. Just a handful, but the sneakiest of their kind. Clad in pure black these uruk-hai don't seem to be bothered by the setting sun. Among them is a bold figure. A beast even among his kind. Grishnakh creeps through the high grasses, watching, looking. The humans were here somewhere. The ones that shot at his band. The scouts fan out, scouring the area.
Ranol is noticing how late it's become, and just as he's turning the pony about to head back north his sharp gaze notices movement in the grass. The huskarl pauses, staring intently for a long moment in the fading light.
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
Two arrows. The darts buzz from opposite directions in the grasses, homing in on their target....the pony. Even as the darts fly in from the sides, Grishnakh himself stands straight up. Ten paces from the rider and directly in front of him is the commander of Mordor's orcish forces. In his hand is a glinting scimitar. On his face is a cruel grin. In his eyes is pure malice. The orc quirks a brow and speaks.
"You come here alone? Where are the humans who shot my men?" He makes no move forward. A few shadows filter in behind their leader.
Sadly for the pony, brave.. steady.. Jopper.. Ranol's first instinct is to protect himself. He hears the sound of arrows cutting air and defensively pulls up his shield even as the shafts sink into the pony's flanks. The animal screeches in pain and rears, and the dwarf is very occupied with getting off of the pony before dumps him to the ground.
He slides down to his feet and grabs for the bridle to try and keep the pony from bolting, but Grishnak catches his attention. "Be gone before I cut you through." The dwarf says in a dark tone, drawing his sword.
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
The big orc howls with laughter as he looks at his much shorter opponent. It silences as swiftly as it began though, shut off it seems. He waves a hand in a signal to others. No other movement is detected. Just the two orcs behind the vorazg, standing at ease, weapons drawn. Surely others remain in the weeds, but they make no moves.
He speaks as he steps forward. One step, "Cut me?" Two steps, "I don't think so, Gazat!" Three and four, "Where are the humans who shoot at my boys?!" Five and six, he's VERY close now, "Scared?!" He is very close now, still walking closer.
Ranol shows no fear. His blue eyes are narrowed and the gaze he levels on this orc is dark and filled with anger. "You shot my pony." He says coldly, then all at once the dwarf huskarl springs forward, jabbing his broadsword towards Grishnakh's midsection.
You attack Grishnakh with your Short Broadsword...
Grishnakh dodges your attack.
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
Grishnakh grins at teh sword comes at him. His paces alter to the right and he swivels his hips to avoid the blow. As the sword goes past him the orc bursts into action. Gone is the slow methodical pacing. His arm rises as he leaps forward another step. The scimitar glints in the dying light as it descends at the short one's shoulder. The vorazg releases a feral growl as he deposits the attack.
Grishnakh attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and he hits! Ouch!
ARB: You've been injured for 10 hp's by Grishnakh's attack...
...you have 84 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.
Ranol grunts when the scimitar cuts through his leather armor above his shield. He quickly twists to face off against the orc again, taking a step to correct his stance. He swings his blade in a wide arc for a second attack towards the urak's legs, the angry rage still on his face.
You attack Grishnakh with your Short Broadsword...
Grishnakh dodges your attack.
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
The uruk-hai leaps to the side, getting one leg out of the way quickly and lifting th other leg to avoid the blow. Off this one foot, grishnakh lunges forward. The left foot comes crashing back down to earth, giving him momentum as he thrusts. The curved blade of the scimitar screams through the air, plunging towards Ranol's chest.
Grishnakh attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and he hits! Ouch!
ARB: You've been injured for 24 hp's by Grishnakh's attack...
...you have 60 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.
This orc is fast, and hits -hard-. Ranol can't get his blade up in time to deflect the scimitar and it cuts into his armor deeply. The huskarl feels that one, and his rage cools a bit as fiery pain tempers his actions. He grits his teeth, hissing, and draws back more defensively. He stabs at the orc again, but it's far less reckless.
You attack Grishnakh with your Short Broadsword...
[Combat(#13388)->Ranol]
Your attack against Grishnakh lightly wounds him!
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
The blade stabs into Grishnakh's leg, just above the kneecap. He almost looks surprised to see the black blood flowing from around his fresh wound. All his dancing couldn't avoid that one, deftly thrown by the dwarf. He hardly seems to be too mad about it though. In fact, a small smile grows on his face, "Ya know, gazat. There must be more of you!" He speaks as he swipes. The scimitar speeding in from his far right, "What will you do in lands of Grishnakh the great?!" The blade whistles as it slices the air towards Ranol's midsection.
Grishnakh attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and he hits! Ouch!
ARB: You've been injured for 39 hp's by Grishnakh's attack...
...you have 21 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.
Ranol has no smiles for his successful strike. He's outmatched, outnumbered, and his pony isn't doing so well behind him. The scimitar cuts in again and the huskarl tries to scramble back out of his way, but he can't bring his shield up quickly enough, the shoulder wound hampering his speed. The orc's blade slices a hefty gash as Ranol tries to turn his defensive side towards the attack, and his blood immediately flows freely, running down his side and along his leg.
The dwarf gasps, staggering back a step as he tries to maintain his stance, but his body refuses to cooperate and he falls to the ground with a twisted expression of pain on his face.
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
The orcish commande rlooks down at his defeated opponent and laughs in his spiteful manner. His glowering eyes for a moment show nothing but death. The scimitar begins to cock back, but something holds him back. A black tongue flicks out and licks some blood from the blade instead. He speaks with malice oozing off every word.
"I know there are more of you. Go back. Tell your friends. tell them of Grishnakh the great. Tell them they walk in the lands of the one true god at their own peril. Tell them they will die." The orc snaps his hand out in a beckoning manner. A few more orcs filter from around the dwarf, one aiming a hard kick at his ribs. Another spitting on him as they fall in behind the leader. The big orc continues, "That is, if you can make it. Tell them, gazat! Warn them! And then bring them to me! I know your foolish kind! You'll come. And you'll find nothing but death!"
TWANG! TWANG! Two more arrows zip out from the archers. These find the wounded pony with ease, putting it down for the count. Without another word, the orc snaps his scimitar back into it's sheath and they blend into the grasses, making haste to the east.
Ranol regains his senses when the orc leans over him to deliver his message. He swears softly as he struggles to push up to his feet but that hard kick knocks the huskarl flat again, drawing a sharp cry of pain. His vision blurs and world revolves as his system reels in shock. The dwarf will be lucky indeed if he makes it back to his kin alive.
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
The orcs dart in and out among the high grasses. Just a handful, but the sneakiest of their kind. Clad in pure black these uruk-hai don't seem to be bothered by the setting sun. Among them is a bold figure. A beast even among his kind. Grishnakh creeps through the high grasses, watching, looking. The humans were here somewhere. The ones that shot at his band. The scouts fan out, scouring the area.
Ranol is noticing how late it's become, and just as he's turning the pony about to head back north his sharp gaze notices movement in the grass. The huskarl pauses, staring intently for a long moment in the fading light.
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
Two arrows. The darts buzz from opposite directions in the grasses, homing in on their target....the pony. Even as the darts fly in from the sides, Grishnakh himself stands straight up. Ten paces from the rider and directly in front of him is the commander of Mordor's orcish forces. In his hand is a glinting scimitar. On his face is a cruel grin. In his eyes is pure malice. The orc quirks a brow and speaks.
"You come here alone? Where are the humans who shot my men?" He makes no move forward. A few shadows filter in behind their leader.
Sadly for the pony, brave.. steady.. Jopper.. Ranol's first instinct is to protect himself. He hears the sound of arrows cutting air and defensively pulls up his shield even as the shafts sink into the pony's flanks. The animal screeches in pain and rears, and the dwarf is very occupied with getting off of the pony before dumps him to the ground.
He slides down to his feet and grabs for the bridle to try and keep the pony from bolting, but Grishnak catches his attention. "Be gone before I cut you through." The dwarf says in a dark tone, drawing his sword.
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
The big orc howls with laughter as he looks at his much shorter opponent. It silences as swiftly as it began though, shut off it seems. He waves a hand in a signal to others. No other movement is detected. Just the two orcs behind the vorazg, standing at ease, weapons drawn. Surely others remain in the weeds, but they make no moves.
He speaks as he steps forward. One step, "Cut me?" Two steps, "I don't think so, Gazat!" Three and four, "Where are the humans who shoot at my boys?!" Five and six, he's VERY close now, "Scared?!" He is very close now, still walking closer.
Ranol shows no fear. His blue eyes are narrowed and the gaze he levels on this orc is dark and filled with anger. "You shot my pony." He says coldly, then all at once the dwarf huskarl springs forward, jabbing his broadsword towards Grishnakh's midsection.
You attack Grishnakh with your Short Broadsword...
Grishnakh dodges your attack.
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
Grishnakh grins at teh sword comes at him. His paces alter to the right and he swivels his hips to avoid the blow. As the sword goes past him the orc bursts into action. Gone is the slow methodical pacing. His arm rises as he leaps forward another step. The scimitar glints in the dying light as it descends at the short one's shoulder. The vorazg releases a feral growl as he deposits the attack.
Grishnakh attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and he hits! Ouch!
ARB: You've been injured for 10 hp's by Grishnakh's attack...
...you have 84 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.
Ranol grunts when the scimitar cuts through his leather armor above his shield. He quickly twists to face off against the orc again, taking a step to correct his stance. He swings his blade in a wide arc for a second attack towards the urak's legs, the angry rage still on his face.
You attack Grishnakh with your Short Broadsword...
Grishnakh dodges your attack.
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
The uruk-hai leaps to the side, getting one leg out of the way quickly and lifting th other leg to avoid the blow. Off this one foot, grishnakh lunges forward. The left foot comes crashing back down to earth, giving him momentum as he thrusts. The curved blade of the scimitar screams through the air, plunging towards Ranol's chest.
Grishnakh attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and he hits! Ouch!
ARB: You've been injured for 24 hp's by Grishnakh's attack...
...you have 60 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.
This orc is fast, and hits -hard-. Ranol can't get his blade up in time to deflect the scimitar and it cuts into his armor deeply. The huskarl feels that one, and his rage cools a bit as fiery pain tempers his actions. He grits his teeth, hissing, and draws back more defensively. He stabs at the orc again, but it's far less reckless.
You attack Grishnakh with your Short Broadsword...
[Combat(#13388)->Ranol]
Your attack against Grishnakh lightly wounds him!
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
The blade stabs into Grishnakh's leg, just above the kneecap. He almost looks surprised to see the black blood flowing from around his fresh wound. All his dancing couldn't avoid that one, deftly thrown by the dwarf. He hardly seems to be too mad about it though. In fact, a small smile grows on his face, "Ya know, gazat. There must be more of you!" He speaks as he swipes. The scimitar speeding in from his far right, "What will you do in lands of Grishnakh the great?!" The blade whistles as it slices the air towards Ranol's midsection.
Grishnakh attacks you with his Scimitar!...
...and he hits! Ouch!
ARB: You've been injured for 39 hp's by Grishnakh's attack...
...you have 21 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.
Ranol has no smiles for his successful strike. He's outmatched, outnumbered, and his pony isn't doing so well behind him. The scimitar cuts in again and the huskarl tries to scramble back out of his way, but he can't bring his shield up quickly enough, the shoulder wound hampering his speed. The orc's blade slices a hefty gash as Ranol tries to turn his defensive side towards the attack, and his blood immediately flows freely, running down his side and along his leg.
The dwarf gasps, staggering back a step as he tries to maintain his stance, but his body refuses to cooperate and he falls to the ground with a twisted expression of pain on his face.
[Grishnakh(#22300)]
The orcish commande rlooks down at his defeated opponent and laughs in his spiteful manner. His glowering eyes for a moment show nothing but death. The scimitar begins to cock back, but something holds him back. A black tongue flicks out and licks some blood from the blade instead. He speaks with malice oozing off every word.
"I know there are more of you. Go back. Tell your friends. tell them of Grishnakh the great. Tell them they walk in the lands of the one true god at their own peril. Tell them they will die." The orc snaps his hand out in a beckoning manner. A few more orcs filter from around the dwarf, one aiming a hard kick at his ribs. Another spitting on him as they fall in behind the leader. The big orc continues, "That is, if you can make it. Tell them, gazat! Warn them! And then bring them to me! I know your foolish kind! You'll come. And you'll find nothing but death!"
TWANG! TWANG! Two more arrows zip out from the archers. These find the wounded pony with ease, putting it down for the count. Without another word, the orc snaps his scimitar back into it's sheath and they blend into the grasses, making haste to the east.
Ranol regains his senses when the orc leans over him to deliver his message. He swears softly as he struggles to push up to his feet but that hard kick knocks the huskarl flat again, drawing a sharp cry of pain. His vision blurs and world revolves as his system reels in shock. The dwarf will be lucky indeed if he makes it back to his kin alive.
Players: Ranol, Grishnakh
