For Gondor!
[+TIME] Middle-earth time is:
Nighttime on Trewsday, Day 15 of February.
Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.
Real time is: 13:25:27 MDT on Thu Oct 07 2010.
This night, like any other at sea, should have been so dark as to have been unfathomable, the sea and sky both black and impenetrable. But, alas, a storm has arisen unexpectedly--and what a storm: Lightning stabs the sky, thunder splits the ears. The world is alight with the storm's fury and thusly are the plans of men revealed.
For in this agony of the storm upon the waved-wracked sea rides a trading vessel, fast and fleet, of Gondor from its look. And yet, from the south it comes, flying toward a ragged and rocky coastline little used for harbor.
[Seregarth(#19338)]
Another ship comes from the south as well, and looks to be a merchant vessel of Harad, though longer and not quite as broad as they are want to be. That is, until the last vestages are removed, even in the storm,revealing it to be a Gondorian frigate in all its glory. And not just any warship of the Southern Realm no, this is the Asgar, and her captain stands upon the quarterdeck, cloaked against the storm.A shout comes from a lookout on the main mast, and the Captain snaps orders, sending the frigate towards the coast. The trading vessel has been spotted.
Swift as the trading ship is, the storm limits just how much sail she can carry. Ahead of the frigate she runs, the storm's light persisently revealing her flight to the shoreline. But the effort seems to be in vain, for the frigate, if it keeps its course, can easily close the distance.
Figures can be spotted on board as the storm rages: A small crew hastening to the sails, a man at the wheel, along with two cloaked men on the quarterdeck.
[Seregarth(#19338)
Indeed, the frigate keeps its course, the skilled crew holding steady in the storm. A frown mars the mien of the Asgar's captain, and the Sea Master of Telumehtar takes out his spy glass from his belt. Extending it, he holds it up to look closer at the merchant vessel, cloak flapping about him in the storm.
There is nothing to distinguish the vessel from any other of Gondor's trading ships crewmen hurrying about their business, their pace increased, seemingly, by the storm's fury the cargo of the ship likely stored below deck. A flag flies on top the mast, likely one of Gondor's but hard to discern in this dark and wind. Nothing unusual, that is, except for some dark shapes on board, cloths now pulled off of them and men
tending to them.
Ballistae.
[Seregarth(#19338)]
The frown turns into a scowl upon the Telumehtar's face before he lowers the spyglass. "To quarters! Man the upper ballistae and catapults! Stand by the soldiers!" The orders are shouted by Seregarth to be heard above the storm, and the crew hastens to carry them out as they continue to close on the other ship. The spyglass is brought back up.
Projectiles fly through the night, across the darkness that separates the two ships, the ballistae on the trade ship aimed toward the sails of the warship. The trade ship is running dangerously close to the rocky
coastline..... and on board, one of the tall cloaked men on the quarterdeck seems to be judging the closing distance between warship and trade ship vs trade ship and rocks. This man's name is Durmidil.
[Seregarth(#19338)]
The scowl turns into a snarl as a couple of tears appear in the sails of the Asgar. "Take out her masts!"
Bellows the Telumehtar over the storm, stalking towards the railing. Return fire comes from the frigate now: bolts from the ballistae and stones from the catapults.
[Aearon(#16333)] Another of the dark cloaked men is Feredil, he is dressed in all black, with high black boots and long black cloak with the cowl pulled up over his head, in his hand he holds a longsword and is directing the some of
the men to fire the Ballistae at the masts of the Gondorian vessel, his voice is rough and dark as he shouts his orders.
Screams and shouts now fill the decks of the trader as bolts and stones hit their marks. Ahead, just past a formation of rocks jutting out into the water is a dark cove, apparently the ship's destination or at least some sort of stronghold that they were making for. But that is not to be: With a splintering crack that echoes through the night, the stones split one of the trader's masts, lines and sails and spar now come tumbling down to add to the chaos on the deck. Speed and direction suddenly gone, there is another sound
that suddenly fills the black night: the sickening crack of the hull finding rockshelf as the ship, blown off course by wind and tangle of mass and chaos, runs aground.
"Stand and fight!" Durmidil yells, drawing his sword and looking to Feredil. The crew scrambles to take up arms and well armed they seem to be, though they are relatively few in number.
[Aearon(#16333)]
As the masts crash down and the ship comes to a crashing halt, Feredil is thrown to the deck of the ship, getting to his feet he shakes his head and rubs the shoulder that he happened to land upon. Looking to Durmidil he says "We do not stand a chance, we must not let them board."
[Seregarth(#19338)]
The masts of the Asgar stand firm. For now. A feral grin crosses Seregarth's face as one of the masts of the other ship falls. "Clear her deck! Boarding parties and soldiers, stand to!" Shouts the Captain once more, turning to take a helm from a young sailor standing nearby. Placing it upon his head, he takes a shield from the same sailor before drawing his sword.
The catapults and ballistae are now aimed at the deck of the opposing ship, while sailors arm themselves or grab roped grapels and marine soldiers from the Hosts run up from below decks. The Asgar continues to close upon the ship.
"Her crew outnumbers us..we have little chance of preventing her from boarding us," Durmidil surmises grimly, standing calmly despite the chaos about them. "I'd say sink her and run for the shore. Unless you have a better option?" he asks of Feredil.
[Aearon(#16333)]
Thinking a moment Feredil says "Let her get close, let her think we are dead in the water, then fire everything we have at her hull, if we are going down, bring her with us." His eyes dart about the wounded ship then back to his companion Durmidil "We will bring her down then move to the island and wait for our brothers to come get us. We will kill them all."
[Seregarth(#19338)]
When the ships are close enough, the sailors throw their grapnels to make sure the merchant ship cannot widen the gap. Next come boarding planks, iron hooked, onto the rails of the opposing ship. Eyes gleaming in flashes of lightning, Seregarth raises his sword before chopping it downward. "Men of Gondor! Take the prize!"
With shouts, the sailors and soldiers climb onto the boarding planks, or leap from rail to rail.
"FIRE!!!" With a downward sweep of his sword, Durmidil orders the ballistae to fire point blank at the oncoming invaders and the Asgar's hull. Bolts and spars get propelled across into the darkness or flesh or hull, as the case may be, a nightmare of all the ship's ballistae firing at once, the preparation to do so having been made in the dark and chaos of the storm.
"For GONDOR!" Durmidil cries, then, brandishing his sword and indicating that the crew should stand and fight.
[Aearon(#16333)]
As everything fires at once Fereldir grins and then picking up a shield he prepares himself for battle, his shield up and his sword at the ready, he moves forward towards the boarding planks, waiting for the first man to try and board.
[Seregarth(#19338)]
Seregarth ducks the on comming shot from the ballistae, snarling as he hears the screams of his men and the crack of timber. Standing after the fusilade, the Captain's shout can be heard clearly by everyone: "Loose the heavy ballistae!" There is a moment's pause before, below the main deck, port holes are open and large, heavy bolts can be seen. They are seen only a moment before they are shot, pounding into the hull of the opposing ship.
For the first few moments after the exchange, the crew of the Asgar hesitate. Did not their enemy just shout 'For Gondor' as well? Seregarth turns his attention to the two seeming leaders of the other ship. "I offer you this one chance: surrender now and be treated well. Refuse, and you shall not find me so generous when I have my blade at your throats!"
The sound of the heavy bolts pounding into the hull is deafening, and the impact can be felt, rocking all those standing to fight on the deck, many losing their footing. Durmidil curses loudly, grabbing at a nearby rope line to remain upright. The hull, beneath their feet, is a mass of splintered wood, so that water now rushes into the bottom of the already-grounded ship.
"(Sindarin) Surrender? To the likes of you?" Durmidil sneers back. "
[Aearon(#16333)] Almost losing his feet and shouting out in the common tongue Feredil says "I think you will feel our blades at your throat!" and with that he once again waits for the first to board the ship, his sword ready to dismember him.
[Seregarth(#19338)]
"So be it," intones Seregarth. "Asgar! Into them! For Gondor!" The Asgar's crew surge across to the other ship, Seregarth amongst them. Soldiers from the Hosts take the forefront, their heavier armour and shields to absorb those first attacks. Blades flash, axes and clubs fall, daggers thrust.
Through the fury of the storm around them, the decks are lit. Durmidil fights with sword and shield, smashing his way through the enemy, as it were. His dark cloak he has thrown back and it can be seen now that across his leather armor he wears a sash of black. He steadily makes his way toward Seregarth clearly he is a seasoned fighter.
The rest of the crew, save Feredil, are less experienced. Hearty men they are, and the light reveals them dark haired and light eyed. Stout fighters, too, but they are slowly falling to their deaths or else diving off the side of the ruined ship into the coastal waters, unweighted as their are by armor, to fight another day.
[Aearon(#16333)]
Feredil fights like a mad man, slashing with his longsword and smashing his shield into any that draw near him, he stands near one of the gangplanks attacking any that try and board. His fighting is one of skill but there is a reckless abandonment to it, for he attacks any that draw near, always going for a killing blow, no matter how reckless it seems.
[Seregarth(#19338)]
Seregarth catches sight of the black sash, and he turns his attention to Durmidil. A feral grin briefly crosses the Captain's face before he pushes through the fighting crew. When close enough, he levels a slash at Durmidil's weapon arm, to disarm him.
Soldiers of the Hosts, heavily armorued than the Fleet sailors, close on Feredil, shields up to block his blows one thrusts a spear at the man.
Durmidil grits his teeth, the slash drawing blood and the man showing pain, but he persists, slamming his shield toward Seregarth's face at the same time he lunges his sword forward. Around them, the crew of the trader lie dead or bleeding and most now that live are scrambling to abandon the ship if they can.
[Aearon(#16333)]
The spear catches Feredil in the hip, opening a gash upon his leg. Grunting with the pain of the wound he slashes out at the throat of one of the Hostman, while backstepping, throwing back his cloak a black sash can be seen upon him. Grinning as a few sailors join in the battle, then leaping forward he beings to attack the Hostman with a new found fury, full of anger and pain.
Below, in the broken hull, the tide starts to come in. In the flashes of lightning, glints of something
metallic can be seen now and then amidst the broken wood.
[Seregarth(#19338)]Seregarth takes the shield blow on his own, letting it send him back and just out of reach of Durmidil's sword. The Telumehtar smirks briefly before he lunges forward himself, sword glinting in the lightning flashes. A lieutenant begins to lead one of the boarding parties below deck, calling for carpenters.
The Hostman staggers back, line across his throat seen briefly before his hand darts up. The other Hostmen press further against Feredil, swords flashing and spears thrusting.
[Aearon(#16333)]
Again Feredil is struck, this time upon the bicep of his shield arm, though he blocks many of the strikes or dodges them. Backstepping he smashes his shield against the closest Hostmans shield. Feredil is now bleeding from his leg and arm, and both wounds are more than mere scratches, but continue to fight he does,
sidestepping he slashes out at one of the Hostsmans weapons arms, while swinging his shield at another. This man fights with no regard for his own body, he is surely a mad man.
Though the darkness hides the strike, the blade of the Captain sinks into Durmidil, slicing through leather and then flesh. The man gasps and drops to his knees, shield held overhead to ward off the next blow that will surely come. A feint, perhaps?
[Seregarth(#19338)]
Seregarth does not strike. Not yet, anyway. Rather, holding his shield low against any strike, he holds his blade pointing at Durmidil. "Once again I offer: surrender and be bound as prisoner. If you do not," says the Captain, "then your life's blood will stain this deck.
Carpenters rush over from the Asgar and go below the deck of the merchantman, no doubt to repair the holes in the hull. Sailors join the Hostmen now, one of whom is knocked back by Feredil's shield bash.
Below decks are stacks and stacks of wooden crates. Those that are broken have something metallic gleaming out from them, through cloth wrappings. Other crates seem to have something brown in them.
A sharp laugh comes as the answer from Durmidil. He lashes out high with his blade, a move to drive Seregarth back, and then just as suddenly, the man, bleeding, jumps to his feet and with a few quick steps runs to the broken rail and dives into the water, shield and sword still in hand.
[Aearon(#16333)]
As more men come to fight Feredil, he continues to fight like a mad man, slashing out with his sword and smashing his shield into any that come near. But the numbers are getting to great, for weapons of the Hostman and sailors begin to find there marks, Feredil is now bleeding from what seems his entire body, from the number of wounds he has now received.
A spear is thrust forward, catching Feredil in the knee, and it is this blow that is to much for the man, for he falls to the deck of the ship, with the hostman and sailors continuing to strike him dead, slashing, chopping and thrusting their weapons at his now dead body.
[Seregarth(#19338)]
Indeed, Seregarth does step back to avoid the high slash of Durmidil's blade. With a snarl, he is set to use his sword in turn, but the man is already away and jumping into the water. Scowling, the Telumehtar wipes his blade off on a dead member of the merchant's crew before sheathing it. "Search the ship and conduct
repairs!"
"Captain!" Calls the lieutenant that led his party below, stepping up the ladder. "Hold is full of weapons and armour!" Seregarth turns his gaze to the man, nodding his head sharply. "We shall investigate later. For now, save this ship!"
On the deck, the remaining crew of the trade ship are dead, dying or too wounded to do anything than throw down their arms and drop to their knees. Durmidil, on the other hand, has, by some lucky chance, been washed up onto the shore of the nearby cove, where he bleeds upon the sand, his presence there revealed by one last
flash of lightning before the storm dissipates.
Daylight is coming.
