Orc In the Sun?

[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
The afternoon air carries with its breath a certain crispness, closer in kin to winter than autumn. Indeed, it is nearly winter in the Trollshaws, and the various hardwoods have lost their leaves, standing tall and bare above the dense undergrowth.

It is in this undergrowth near the village that Nurenhir has gone herb-hunting once again. But though he is cautious and swift and keeps the wall in his sight, the Elf seeks no fragrant cooking herbs this time steps quick and ragged, he stops by a gathering of short, green-stemmed plants and begins to pluck them, pausing occasionally to press an arm to his side.

[Narshaak(#16331)]
The forest may be bare of its raiment of leaves, but it is not bare of activity. A handful or so of dark figures flit from trunk to trunk normal goblins they are not, for their size and stature is more alike to Man -- though orcish traits are clear upon them.

The group passes further into the wood, but one of their number breaks away to linger behind. Nigh the border of the treeline Narshaak stands still, red eyes peering through the bramble and other foliage to spy upon the activity of the yonder workers in the half-rebuilt town. The Elf is unnoticed, for now, obscurred by a few trunks and undergrowth.

[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
The smell of woundwort is not pleasant -- nothing like rosemary and thyme. But there is the presence of something dreadful, and Nurenhir makes a sudden, quick movement, doubling over to crouch among the thick remnants of vine and bush.

Due to fear and pain-maddened frustration, the Elf's movements are less graceful than before, and perhaps less quiet.

[Narshaak(#16331)]
Though Nurenhir's motions are still hidden from view, the light sounds of them turn the creature's leather helmed head. The she-hai remains quite still, tensed, ears straining to pick up further disturbances nearby. Slowly, carefully, she steps forward, inching along the outerside of a tree to get a better look at whatever lurks there in the bushes. A gloved claw slips downward to clutch the hilt of a broadsword, and it is drawn a handspan.

[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
The Elf closes his eyes in dread, his hand crushing the pungent, fleshy smell of the cut woundwort. He wraps his cloak tightly about his trembling frame, then readies the dagger, his mien calming somewhat as the knife-edge gleams silver in the afternoon sun.

[Narshaak(#16331)]
The cloak in the shade of the trees might have aided somewhat to conceal the steward, but there is the glint of metal against the dark fabric thither does Narshaak's attention fix as the orc crouchs behind bole and stares beyond. The fleshy smell does not improve the look in her eyes -- if anything it seems to make them flash with hunger and ill intent.

Surely the Elf is aware of some threatening presence, and the uruk-hai leaps full out from her hiding spot, even stepping into the light of the sun without a concern. The blade is brought out swiftly, and pointed ahead. But closer she does not yet go, rather eyeing Nurenhir unpleasantly.

[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
The Elf's eyes go wide at the sight of the larger-than-normal orc -- and standing full in the rays of the autumn sun! "It cannot be," he whispers, under his breath. A shudder runs over his skin, and Nurenhir scrambles to his feet, leaning lopsidedly upon the springy branches of a shrub. He holds out the gleaming knife, although his hand is shaking.

[Narshaak(#16331)]
At last the tall creature speaks, a harsh laugh heralding unkindly words. "Yes, cower in fear, worm -- have you never been given the honor of seeing one of us before?" The she-hai twirls the broadsword between fingers, almost lazily. "A pity...then I will make certain you know the great power of the Fighting Uruk-hai, afore the day's end."

With long strides and startling speed, Narshaak springs the distance between the two is eaten up. The orc-blade is brought out at an angle to strike the Elf as she passes him by.

You attack Nurenhir with your Short Broadsword...
[Combat(#13388)->Narshaak]
Nurenhir dodges your attack.

[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
The Elf sweeps his body to one side of the blade, and is thus spared from injury. He is rather pale, although he seems to have gathered some composure after the inital shock of a sun-bathed orc. "Uruk-hai?" he questions softly, hefting the knife. "Not an orch? You are not a creature of this forest?"

Without warning, Nurenhir's dagger darts out in a defensive jab at the she-hai's arm.

Nurenhir attacks you with his Dagger!...
...and he hits! Ouch!

ARB: You've been injured for 3 hp's by Nurenhir's attack...
...you have 82 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.

[Narshaak(#16331)]
The orc hisses as she moves passed where Nurenhir leans against bush, and a thin line parts leather as the knife flies. She stops, whirling about to face him once more. "This forest?" Narshaak gives the gloom of the wood a half-disgusted look. "Certainly not I'm not part of their little bands. Weak, wretched excuses for orcs as they are."

"Having difficulty?" the wicked fanged smile returns, as the she-hai cocks a brow at the Firstborn's unsteady pained movements. "Let me fix that." She steps forward again, this time raising the blade for a stabbing motion to the leg.

You attack Nurenhir with your Short Broadsword...
[Combat(#13388)->Narshaak]
Nurenhir dodges your attack.

[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
Nurenhir stumbles wide of the attack, raising his own weapon in an attempt to sink it into Narshaak's shoulder as she draws near. "Not of this forest?" His gaze darkens, perhaps matching the orc's taller and well-trained appearance to that of another time ... "Did you kill the luthier?" the steward asks, his voice suddenly like ice. "Did you kill Elathrad? Do you dare..?"

Nurenhir attacks you with his Dagger!...
...and he hits! Ouch!

ARB: You've been injured for 2 hp's by Nurenhir's attack...
...you have 80 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.

[Narshaak(#16331)]
The uruk-hai frowns at the Sindarin name, clear dislike evident across the ashen face beneath the hooded helm. "Perhaps," she replies nastily, and the elven weapon as it bites into shoulder does not improve her tone. "It is very likely, though I could care less what the maggot was called. You must remember it then..for some of us came hither, and burned the place your little friends toil so hard to rebuild." Narshaak jerks a claw backward where the village lies, it's stone wall visible not too far away.

"The fools." Again, the broadsword sail down, this time aimed for the chest if Nurenhir cannot move fast enough.

You attack Nurenhir with your Short Broadsword...
[Combat(#13388)->Narshaak]
Your attack against Nurenhir mildly wounds him!

[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
The broadsword scores a small cut upon the steward's chest, slicing through cloth easily, and Nurenhir emits a quiet, uncharacteristic snarl, lashing out with the dagger at the she-hai's helmed face. "You filth! You ought not to be standing here and living, then. Answer for your sword!"

Nurenhir attacks you with his Dagger!...
...and he hits! Ouch!

ARB: You've been injured for 4 hp's by Nurenhir's attack...
...you have 76 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.

[Narshaak(#16331)]
"Delightedly," says the orc, peering down upon the other as if a snake above a mouse. "They were all weak and pathetic, those who fought to defend their village. They were there, and we decided to toy with them they broke easily. I shall do it again, should I get the opportunity."

She snarls suddenly, ducking away. But there still appears a cut along the edge of a crimson eye, running down the cheek. "First, I think," Narshaak points the blade, "I'll start with you." And the weapon drops for elven leg anew.

You attack Nurenhir with your Short Broadsword...
[Combat(#13388)->Narshaak]
Nurenhir dodges your attack.

[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
Nurenhir cants his head, the still and level gaze so unlike the warm-hearted baker of cakes. "I shall not break," he promises coldly, dodging the blow once more. "I wonder if you will die like those small yrch you revile."

The Elf sweeps in for another swipe at Narshaak's arm, although from the flagging step it is shown that he is quickly grown weary.

Nurenhir attacks you with his Dagger!...
...and he hits! Ouch!

ARB: You've been injured for 4 hp's by Nurenhir's attack...
...you have 72 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.

[Narshaak(#16331)]
"A possibily," comes the growling reply, "though I doubt my fate shall fall by the hand of an injured leaf-ear." But no sooner has she utter thus, then the steward's knife connects, deepening the cut he has already dealt to the shoulder. Narshaak scowls hatefully, spiting upon the earth. "See there?" The she-hai points. "There in the dirt is where your ilk should lie." Out the broadsword thrusts, this time aimed for Nurenhir's weapon hand.

You attack Nurenhir with your Short Broadsword...
[Combat(#13388)->Narshaak]
Nurenhir dodges your attack.

[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
"Not there," answers Nurenhir clipped and brittle, drawing back his hand sharply. "We are not made of only dust. But your kin caused that which ought not to die, to perish. No more ..." He sways, attempting to backpedal from the uruk-hai.

ARB: Nurenhir has "passed" on his turn to attack.

[Narshaak(#16331)]
For a moment, the creature shifts as though to follow but then stands still, partly canting an ear back toward the depths of the forest. Whatever she has heard, it succeeds to hold pursuit at bay. It does not however, keep her from glaring.

"Ha! No more," Narshaak echoes mockingly. "The more filth we kill, the better. I care not if you wish it were otherwise." She too, begins stepping backward, though for the shade of the treeline. "We will come again, and again smoke will fill their homes." The orc's eyes flicker to the village, ere she slips away into the foliage, and is gone.

[Nurenhir(#14756)] 
Nurenhir's mouth sets in a grim line, as if he would reply to the orcless foliage. But he shudders slightly, clenching the harvested herbs in one hand as he makes his way back to the safer stone walls.