(Archive) Gondor vs. Harad Part LXXXVI

A Fatal Skirmish

(RL time: Tue Aug 17 20:35:16 1999)

Harad Road

The warm, parched grassy savannah of the Harondor stretches off endlessly to the horizon. To the south the grass thins, giving way to scrub brush and patches of bare earth. The air is increasingly hot and dry the further south you go. There are few signs of life beyond the occasional siting of a bird, lizard, or snake.

The day sky is clear with only slight wisps of clouds overhead. The late morning spring air is hot and dry around you. The moon is waxing crescent.

Contents:

Harthad

Garafan aka Aearwen

Zanteran

Rorgan aka Boromir

Guard_Captain

Pianneon

Taryn

Obvious exits:

North and South

On the horizon, a small puff of dust begins to make itself seen in the morning sky.

A small group of mounted men is at the foot of this dust cloud, far too few to be of any real threat to any massed forces, yet large enough to make a good defense of itself.

Zoom in on the group of riders. There are twenty-odd men in tabbards of the Silver Guard of Minas Tirith, and a few, like the tall man with greying blonde hair at the center of these riders, who appear to be garbed more as scouts than regular soldiers. As they ride, many of the Silver Guard complain about the dryness and the blasted Harad weather, but Rorgan, the tall blonde man leading them, shushes them and keeps a wary eye to the South for any signs of the enemy force so recently seen in retreat this way.

Riding near Rorgan is a tall Corporal of the Silver Guard. He looks towards his leader, Rorgan, and then back down towards the south. Sweat his dripping down his brow from the heat. \"Do you think there are many of those acursed Haradrim, Sir? Many of these men have not been in the recent war against the Mordian and may not be ready for this.\"

The golden morning collects undauntedly as the argent sunlight coils about the lands of Harondor. The small force of men from Gondor clad in a myriad of hues, with as many different emblems, all ride their swift beasts, hooves pounding like thunder on the plains of Harad that lie south of the Poros. From the western flank of the throng drives Harthad, the man\'s raiment of green and brown just another sample of the plethora. His verdant hood veils most of his head, casting strange shadows over his visage whilst his cloak flaps wildly behind. Eyes vexed ever forth taking notice only by ear of his fellow woodsman that rind behind, he pushes on. Swinging at his hip is a finely crafted scabbard bearing a stout blade, but girt with no mail. The Ranger this day rides a doughty steed, not unlike those of his companions that ride alongside him, its ebon mane glimmering in the piercing sunshine and whinnying as it goes.

Garafan sits atop his restless stallion, pulling at the reins to calm the horse in this unfamiliar terrain. His eyes blinking against the blowing sand, scanning the area for signs of the enemy. Wiping the sweat from his brow on his sleeve, he curses the horrid heat and sand.

Rorgan looks to his corporal, \"Zanteran, these men are, save a bare few, all veterans of some war or another. And they showed themselves very well in the pitched battle at the crossing of the Poros. Prince Imrahil has seen it fit to bestow upon them the confidence of scouting out the enemy positions and determining their numbers.\" He smiles briefly, \"And we shall do just that.\"

Though the day is still early, the sun already beats upon the heads and shoulders of the ragtag group heading south. While some of this motley band sport the insignia of Desert and Black Towers, nearly an equal number wear only the clothes customary of the desert-dwelling tribes. Altogether, they number about two dozen, all still armed and wary.

A youth in the garb of a desert tribesman emerges from the rear of the pack and makes his way towards the front. \"Re\'kha! Someone is coming! Horses, behind us!\"

Zanteran nods and sighs. He looks around with a nervously. \"I have a bad feeling about this, Sir.\" He looks over at the person shouting out an alert.\" He slips his axe from his belt loop into his Hand. \"SHall I take him out, Sir?!\" He does not wait as he spurs his horse in Persuit of the youth.

Pianneon whirls to look behind him as the alarm is raised. Seeing men mounted on heavy horses, he slips his scimitar from its loop on his belt and follows the others in slipping into the camouflage of the scrubby brush. There he waits, listening to the following horses.

Trudging wearily down the south road, a group of men, outfitted in the arms of Umbar\'s city guards, spring alert at the shouting. Sharp orders from one of them spreads the men into two lines, raising their weapons and forming a unit as the one man looks towards the sound of the hoofbeats.

The young Captain of Black Tower turns to glance over her shoulder as she hears the tribesman\'s words. Taryn motions for her men to stop moving and she squints into the distance in an attempt to see the approaching party more clearly. Ducking quickly, she draws her scimitar and quickly, the rest of her men follow suit.

The storm of dust that is lofted by the northern troop only adds to the torridity of the land. Still pacing himself near the head of the Gondorian effort, Harthad\'s eyes remained fixed ahead. Today those grey orbs scan the southern plains for the heads of Southrons, narrowed behind the shadowy mask that shrouds his face. Sweat beads amply atop his forehead, but is soon dried as the torrent winds rush past him as he swiftly makes his way through the hinterland.

Rorgan sighs and then lifts his arm in a semi-circle, \"Get back here, Corporal! It\'s only a child.\" He mutters a few curses himself now, \"Have you gone completely sun-mad?\"

The hair standing up on the back of his neck, Garafan reins his horse tighter as his eyes circle the desert area. Licking his ever present dry lips, he almost smiles as Rorgan curses. Squinting into the sun and dust he moves along in a slow canter.

Zanteran gallops towards the youth and sees him dash into the tall grass. He growls to himself in frustration. He looks back at the other horsemen behind him. He calls out. \"He\'s gone!\" He shakes his head as he looks ahead of him to see who he might of alerted.

The unit forming from the guardsmen crouches to the ground, kneeling and using the grass for cover. Their captain stands back from them, but not kneeling quite as far, peering north towards the oncoming riders. His whispered orders echo as merely noise, but his men react in obvious understanding.

The Gondorian riders continue moving down the road, until finally, a cry rings out from the front ranks, \"On the road! Look ahead!\" and Rorgan does look, seeing the few men gathered on the road, he orders his riders forward, \"Hard at them, lads! Run them down where they stand!\"

Another group of men, all wearing the insignia of Desert Tower, move into a defensive formation, crouched low, weapons drawn, awaiting the approach of the Gondorians.

With the mad dash of the corporal, a confused expression snakes across the face of Harthad, beneath his mask. Yet hearing naught of Zanteran\'s shouting, as the wind silently whisks them in its course, the Ranger rides with the same speed and wariness that he had been since the river leagues North.

Then, drawing his sword, Rorgan, too urges his own mount forward, caught up in the rushing hooves and eyes gleaming at the prospect of trampling those foolhardy enough to stand before the charge of the Silver Guard.

Garafan urges his horse forward, heels digging into its flanks as he follows Rorgan\'s orders. The horse\'s gallop only adding to the dust to the already thick air.

Zanteran looks forward to the Harradrim on the road. He spurs his horse ot a gallop as he races his horse in the lead of the Gondorian forces. He drops the reins and guides the horse with his thighs as he slings his shield over his back. A look determination is on his face as his horse kicks up dust behind him.

Pianneon glances up as the black and silver clad man passes by his hiding place. As the hindlegs of the horse speed by, he lashes out with his scimitar, slashing the horse\'s legs open just above the hock, severing the tendons lying there.

As the riders near the small brave band blocking the raod, the grasses around the Gondorians begin to ripple as men and woman dressed in loose, light clothing burst forth from the cover. The screaming of horses mixes with their war cries as the trailing horses a rapidly hamstrung. The thirsty earth first soaks up the blood quickly, but the thrashing of the wounded horses and the struggles of their riders to gain their feet soon churn the ground into a frothy red mud.

As the riders round the bend, the guard unit splits into two, moving to the sides of the roads and out of the path of the horses. They raise their blades as the riders near, attempting a few swings to distract and dislodge rather than injure the riders.

Riding through the tall grasses, Garafan swings his mighty sword, his arm swinging out in a wide arch at the first person that steps up from a kneeling position. His thighs tightly gripping his horse as he struggles to stay seated on the nervous horse.

The road bends, the valiant Gondorians ride forth and some seem to shout with malice as men appear on the path. However no such call passes the grim lips of Harthad, only the sword that once rested uneasily in its sheath is grasped by the shining hilt. A metallic song is heard by those who ride near the Ranger as his sword is quickly drawn forth. Men nearby fall the pray of hidden bowmen whilst others\' steeds are hacked from beneath them. It is only now that Harthad wishes for his precious shield and helm.

Zanteran\'s horse whinies in extreme pain as his foreleg buckles and it sends it\'s rider into the tall grass beside the road. He rolls with the fall and then picks up his axe and picks himself up with a groan. He looks around slightly dazed as to what happened to his sturdy steed.

A cry rings out over the grasses and the rising sounds of battle, \"[Haradaic] Come, Children of the Desert! We\'ll send these invading dogs home in pieces!\"

Twisting in his saddle at the sounds of this sudden attack, Rorgan reigns in his horse quickly, and half-turning he roars the order to \"HALT!\" and \"FORM RANKS!\". Some of the rearward men have fallen to the tribals\' attack to the rear, but it appears that primarily their horses have been the targets of the initial attack, and now looking to his fore again as some of these men regain their footing and attempt to follow the orders they were given, Rorgan again barks, \"SHIELD!\"

The remaining riders, for the most part begin to form a block formation around the tall blonde man.

A second wave of tribals rushes from hiding. This time their attack is split between the remaining horses and those scouts unfortunate enough to be trapped under their writhing steeds.

Pianneon rises up out of the scrub brush to face the man he has just unhorsed.

Re\'kha dashes forward, her scimitar gleaming as it swings towards the rear legs of Harthad\'s mount.

Moving his injured horse into place, blood dripping from its cut foreleg, Garafan whirls around as the second wave of tribals come rushing out. Pulling sharply on the horse, his heels cutting into its flanks as the hooves come crashing down on the first tribal that comes near. His sword drawn in his right hand, he swings at the shoulder of the next one.

Pianneon looks his opponent up and down for a moment, his dark face spliting in a wide grin. He lifts his scimitar slowly, gauging the response of this heathen Gondorian and seeing little movement, brings it down swiftly before him in a slicing arc towards his right hip.

Pianneon attacks Zanteran with his Black Scimitar, but Zanteran parries the attack with his Axe!

With a sudden lurch Harthad finds himself with a mouth full of dust and his horse lying behind him, blood pooling from its rear. A wild scream then follows, perhaps a careful mixture of both rage and pain. For under his now crimson-stained breeches, at the knee, protrudes a bone soaked and dripping with blood. Sprawling for cover, yet unsuccessful, the man is left with steeds bounding this way and that his leg severely broken.

Zanteran, seeing movement coming towards him, brings his axe downquickly to parry the blow swing at his hips. He shakes his head slightly as he gets his sences back. He punches his leather clad shield into Pianneon\'s metal one as he swings his heavy axe towards the arms that bears his black scimitar.

Guard_Captain gives signed orders to the guards spread across the road as the horses form their shield. Leaving them behind, he rushes the wall of horses, cutting the legs out of the beast directly in front of him and side-stepping opposite of the direction it starts to fall before he becomes trapped in the chaos. Finding himself face to snout with Rorgan\'s mount, he quickly maneuvers to the side and looks upwards at the man raising his shield instinctively as a defense.

Rorgan spies the man worming his way through the horses toward him, and the shield raised, just far enough for the tall blond rider to snake his sword underneath, hoping to get at the arm even while his splendid Chestnut mount attempts to circle behind the footman.

This man wears a longsword in the scabbard at his waist and carries a longbow.

Pianneon dodges nimbly out to his right, neatly sidestepping the falling axe. The wide grin never moves from his tanned face. As he dodges, he notes a hole and aims for it, throwing a punishing strike beneath his opponent\'s shield towards his left hip.

Pianneon attacks Zanteran with his Black Scimitar and moderately wounds him!

With a wild cry, Re\'kha raises her scimitar again, this time aiming for the fallen man. She swings her weapon low, the blade slicing towards his weapon-arm.

Garafan struggles to stay on his horse, blood dripping from the horses legs as he swings his mighty sword in a wide arch. Hissing as another slash is made in the horses body, spinning around, he slices into another body.

The men of Black fight determinedly, blades swinging. Taryn stands behind them, taking a moment to glance around. She spots Garafan still upon his horse and moves quickly behind him, crouched. With a forceful swing, she aims her blade for the horse\'s rear legs.

Zanteran cries out in pain as the scimitar bites into his hips. A light trickle of blood comes from under his chain mail. He grimaces as he focuses past the pain. He tries to press his attack as he snaps his axe towards the shoulder of Pianneon.

Zanteran attacks Pianneon with his Axe, but he misses by an arm\'s length.

Guard_Captain\'s shield provides little protection as the horseman\'s blade snakes underneath. In an attempt to block the strike, the shield lowers, but not enough to prevent the blade from thrusting into his left thigh as he twists and prevents it from hitting his hip. The tip punctures the leather, but only enough to open a gash in his leg. Causing a balance shift to his right leg, Guard_Captain uses his shield against the horse to steady himself as he raises his own weapon to strike at the waist of the rider in a thrusting fashion.

Garafan hears the frightened whinny of his horse as its body is cut into again, rolling quickly as the horses legs buckle, he manages to just barely miss being trapped by the big animals body. Whirling around to face Taryn, he draws his sword and moves towards her, his eyes narrowed.

Guard_Captain attacks Rorgan with his Longsword, but he misses by a long shot.

Pianneon laughs, clearly enjoying his current sport as he once again dodges out from under the axe. He steps back for a moment and takes a few steps around his opponent, forcing him to move on his injured leg. With an almost casual move, he flips the end of his scimitar out towards the Gondorian\'s head.

Pianneon attacks Zanteran with his Black Scimitar, but he misses by a handspan.

Writhing in pain upon the dust-laden ground is Harthad. Grunts emit from his grinding mouth, sable blood still washing about his leg. As the terrible cry of Re\'kha bears down on the man, he can only watch with wide and frightened eyes as her glinting scimitar removes the limb that once bore his gallant blade. More cries come, but it seems as though fortune has borne its grim tidings upon the Ranger this day.

The magnificent Chestnut turns again and the thrusting blade of the Harad goes wide of it\'s mark, even as Rorgan\'s sword is again poised to strike again at the man, only this time, the part that is most within reach is the man\'s sword arm.

Rorgan attacks Guard_Captain with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.

Zanteran ducks under the scimitar that was aimed at his head. He moves in with a slight limp towards Pianneon. He attempts to press his shield att he sword arm of his opponent as his large axe is sent with great strength towards the leg of his nomadic opponent.

Zanteran attacks Pianneon with his Axe, but Pianneon parries the attack with his shield!

Taryn does not waste a moment in attacking again. As soon as Garafan is on his feet, she swings her blade at him, aiming for his stomach.

Guard_Captain draws back quickly as the horse pulls its rider from the path of his blade. His quick removal of his sword arm barely gets it out of the path of the rider\'s sword as he shifts onto his left leg for a moment, raising his shield at the same time the strike is coming. Having moved out of the way however and dodging the blow, he steps forward onto his right foot again planting himself and striking upwards at Rorgan\'s own sword arm.

Guard_Captain attacks Rorgan with his Longsword, but he misses by a long shot.

Garafan parries Taryn\'s scimitar attack, their blades gritting into each other before he pushes hard to break the deadlock. Grunting as he brings the sword forward for a thrust into her chest.

As her victim writhes on the ground, Re\'kha lets out a harsh laugh before stepping over his bloodied form. Kneeling on the sodden ground behind him, she drops her scimitar and draws her knife, quickly drawing the razor edge across the hapless Gondorian\'s throat.

With a smirk, Rorgan withdraws his own arm from within the strike-path of the Harad\'s own sword, \"You learn quick, little one.\" He taunts as he brings the blade of his sword around for another slash, this time at the man\'s face.

Taryn jumps back, the blade of Garafan\'s sword actually scraping her armor. She moves quickly to the side, then swings again, aiming her scimitar for the waist of her opponent.

Garafan grunts as just the tip of the scimitar scrapes his side, swinging around to the left, he thrusts the blade against the womans legs, aiming for her thighs.

Pianneon drops his shield, blocking the strike aimed for his thigh. \"[Haradaic] Give up, child of pigs. You shall see your last sunrise in the deserts!\", he growls. Swinging his scimitar around, he aims it for his opponent\'s dropped right shoulder.

Guard_Captain\'s strike flies wide as the rider moves his arm from the path of his weapon. Keeping his shield raised to protect, it easily moves upwards blocking the incoming strike at his face. Blocking the blade forces him to crouch lower in his stance, forcing his return attack to be directed at the rider\'s leg.

Guard_Captain attacks Rorgan with his Longsword, but he misses by an arm\'s length.

Pianneon attacks Zanteran with his Black Scimitar and moderately wounds him!

The tidings that will be borne back among the many Gondorians that return will be sad indeed this day. Surely the brothers in the fair woods of Ithilien will miss their comrade, Harthad. His final breathes are choked as the sting of metal clutches his exposed throat. Shrill gags follow, but soon the man lies lifeless, blood spilling, as just another corpse upon the din of battle.

Taryn takes a step forward, but not quickly enough. Garafan\'s blade catches the back of her right leg and she stumbles a bit. A growl of pain and of anger escapes her lips, and she turns once again, resting her weight on her left leg as she lunges to swing her blade at Garafan\'s stomach.

Zanteran grimaces as the scimitar impacts his shoulder. He brings back his axe as the stain of blood comes through his chain. He brings his shield in a more defensive stance as he looks around nervously for his men. He then fiens high with his axe and then snap it down quickly towards the knee of his opponent.

Zanteran attacks Pianneon with his Axe, but Pianneon parries the attack with his shield!

As the Harad\'s shield raises and blocks his own blow, the well-trained steed beneath Rorgan dances aside, yet again foiling the Harad\'s sword strike. Rorgan then spurs the mount forward, pressing it close to the man in an attempt to get him to lower his shield and expose that face that he so much wants to take a piece off of as he swings.

As the life drips from Harthad\'s body, Re\'kha casually wipes the bloodied knife on her pants, oblivious of the fights raging around her. Replacing the knife, she picks up her scimitar and moves to the side of the Gondorian. Raising her weapon over her head, she brings it down with both hands, severing her enemy\'s head from his body. Grabbing the head by its hair, she rises to her feet, seeking another victim.

Rorgan attacks Guard_Captain with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

Garafan steps quickly out of the way of the scimitar blade, feeling the whoosh of air against his clothing. Growling in his throat, his arm brings the blade up in the air, slashing the blade against Taryn\'s upthrust arm, trying to knock the scimitar from her hand. His eyes raking down her body quickly, watching as the blood drips from her injured right leg.

Pianneon lowers his shield to catch the edge of the axe and steps back, taking the impact of the blow in that way. He uses the backward movement to swing himself around so that he might throw a stronger blow towards the Gondorian\'s head once more.

The horses movements toward him offset Guard_Captain\'s balance, indeed dropping his shield enough as Rorgan\'s blade strives to reach his face. The helmet deflects a great deal of the sword strike, but a line of blood becomes obvious from a thin wound across his cheek. The blood drips down his cheek and into his mouth as he screams a warcry of some sort, more guttaral than language as he lunges forward on his left leg, the pain evident in his eyes if not his movements and thrusts his blade upwards towards the rider\'s stomach.

Pianneon attacks Zanteran with his Black Scimitar, but he misses by a handspan.

Guard_Captain attacks Rorgan with his Longsword, but Rorgan parries the attack with his Longsword!

Taryn stumbles as she attempts to place weight on her right leg to balance her swing, conveniently missing Garafan\'s swing towards her arm as she does so. But her stumble puts her on the ground, and she quickly rolls away from the man, so as not to be a prime target for another injury

Zanteran swats the wicked blade away with his shield as he attempts to movve in and stomp on the harradrim\'s foot with his heavy soled boot. As he does that he snaps his axe at the shoulder just above Pianneon\'s shield.

Zanteran attacks Pianneon with his Axe, but Pianneon parries the attack with his Black Scimitar!

Still clutching her prize, Re\'kha swings her scimitar at another scout. He blocks her blow, but his eyes widen in shock at what she carries and his failure to counterattack leaves him lying on the bloody ground, sightless eyes staring into the burning sun.

Striking the Harad\'s blow away from his body with his own blade, Rorgan begins to call for his men to fall back under the furious onslaught of the Harad, shouting \"FALL BACK! REGROUP!\" as he turns his horse and begins to dig his heals into it\'s flanks, he takes one final backwards swing toward the Harad he had been fighting, hoping to leave the man crippled from a neck wound.

Rorgan attacks Guard_Captain with his Longsword, but Guard_Captain parries the attack with his shield!

Re\'kha\'s head whips around, the beads clinking against each other. Seeing Taryn fall and try to move away, she darts forward to launch her attack at the young Captain\'s foe.

Garafan rushes forward as Taryn stumbles to the ground and rolls away Sword held low, he swings downward, aiming for the womans other leg. His arm thrusting the shining blade at her.

Guard_Captain raises his shield blocking the swordstrike as the horseman and his guards regroup and retreat. Shaking his head and raising his hand to the blood on his cheek, he calls out orders to his own men to regather and stand their ground.

Pianneon catches the blade of the axe on the edge of his scimitar, but fails to move his foot in time. The wide grin he has worn this entire fight wavers for a moment as the Gondorian stamps down. As the retreat is called by the Gondorian commander, he punches back his opponent with his shield and throws a last attempt towards the other\'s already-injured shoulder.

Zanteran , hearing the call for retreat, Starts to back away slowly. The scimitar that was swung at him misses him as he backs away. As he sees Pianneon continues his attack. He drops to one knee and tries to split the foot of his opponent open with his large axe.

Zanteran attacks Pianneon with his Axe, but he misses by an arm\'s length.

Rorgan heads north toward the River Poros.

Rorgan has left.

Garafan heads north toward the River Poros.

Garafan has left.

As the Gondorians begin their retreat, the air fills with cheers and jeers, yelled in an assortment of languages.

Pianneon moves his foot quick enough this time, and decides to take advantage of the Gondorian\'s stooped posture to aim a heavy blow overhand towards his bowed head.

Pianneon attacks Zanteran with his Black Scimitar and moderately wounds him!

Those southrons left opponentless now move amongst the fallen, tending to their own when possible and ensuring that all the fallen enemies will never rise again. More than one scout who has lain trapped under his own horse now smiles redly up at the sky.

Zanteran cries out in pain as the blow strikes the helm of the Corporal of the Silver guard. He looks slightly stunned as it tries to stand up and faulters. And falls back down to his knee with a groan of pain as he sees that his leg wound is more serious than he thought. He looks at Pianneon with wide eyes as he sees his fate before him.

Re\'kha laughs and holds Harthad\'s head aloft. \"[Haradaic] This is the best way to ensure they are dead!!\"

Pianneon, hearing the call of the female tribal, smiles broadly. \"[Haradaic] Indeed it is!\", he cries out, bringing his bloodied scimitar down across the bared neck of the fallen Gondorian. The scimitar slices deeply, the tip embedding in the dust under the soldier\'s body. Once again, the thirsty sand drinks deeply of foreign blood.

Guard_Captain watches the tribals and shakes his head. He turns to the survivers of his unit, \"Remove the heads and limbs. Gut the bodies and spread them around the road. They\'ll be back. I want them to know what awaits them.\"

Zanteran\'s eyes widen with horror as he sees the flash of the ebony blade comes down towards him. He calls out. \"Rorgan! Why did you leav..\" His cries is cut short his his head flies off his torso and rolls down in the dust and sant with a hallow thud. The body of the slaine Corportal twitches somewhat as it remain upright for a couple secound and then fall down limply. Blood spurts from where his head used to be as it sprays his opponent and the ground.

Already blood-soaked, Re\'kha grins and laughs at Pianneon as she raises Harthad\'s head above her in a salute. As the the last of the enemy disappears from view or dies, she wipes her scimitar clean on the tunic of a ranger, then sheathes it.

Guard_Captain walks to the side of the road where he grabs his pack, pulling out some materials. He begins to clean up his wounds, as he apparently has a thought and stands, yelling out to the men, \"Remove the eyes. Stack \'em in a pile for the desert life!\" He grins viciously, \"Just create a bloody mess.\"

One hand free, Re\'kha begins poking around the bodies of the Gondorians. With a cry of delight, she finds a large leather satchel. Opening it, she dumps the contents onto the road and carefully places Harthad\'s head inside it. Pulling the strap over her shoulder, she looks towards Guard_Captain, nods, and picks up a dropped axe, and begins to dismember the fallen dogs of Gondor.

Pianneon crunches across the sand and lifts the dripping head. \"A trophy. I shall have my woman preserve it, so that it might join the others before our tent.\"

Re\'kha pauses in hacking at a body and holds up another bag. \"You, Pia- peano-, you need this?\"

Pianneon takes the proffered bag and tosses the head lightly into it.

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