The Recapture of Buhr Mahrling: Street Sweeping
A tale freshly told of the Dale-Lands
And here it is told of the failures of Akhbar and his brutes of Rhun.
6/18/2011
08:57 PM
Logfile from Elendor.
Oak Barrel Avenue
This part of the town appears to be in a slightly better state than the rest of the
town. Many of the houses look more opulent and some have coloured banners that hang from
their walls. The avenue is clearly dominated by two large structures, the warehouse which
backs onto the docks of Buhr Mahring, and the Merchants Guild that commands a good position
that overlooks both the warehouse/docks and the market place to the south. Close to the
warehouse, but on the opposite side of the avenue from the Merchants Guild is a smallish
Guard House.
There is a torchlight shining near the Guard House, by which one can see a two-man
posted guard. Another two guards stand post near the warehouse, and a fifth guard is posted
not far from the Merchant\'s Guild.
Contents:
Magnus
Raynar
Barding Camp
Lorthrain
Obvious exits:
West leads to Thorin Oakenshield Road.
Ramp leads to Warehouse.
North leads to Northern Entry to Buhr Mahrling.
Iron Door leads to Guard House.
Oak Door leads to Merchant Guild.
South East leads to Millers Market.
[Lorthrain]
The hour is late in the contested town of Buhr Mahrling, and every door in every street
appears to be shuttered up the residents having been caught between the advance of the
Bardings and the retreat of the Easterlings, though the latter has not been peaceful. Alas,
more than a few townsfolk have been taken by sallow-skinned brutes in wrath, and the
sacrifices in the south-eastern part of town have reassured the folk of Rhun surely the Eye
will grant them His favour with the offering of so much blood.
But also too have some of the townsfolk been rescued fled to the gate and ushered beyond by
brave, noble soldiers of Dale, and now the famous Oak Barrel Avenue of Buhr Mahrling stands
lifeless a no-man\'s land between two foes eager to test one another out.
So it is that a party of Royal Wardens slip their way through the moonlit alleyways, ever
keeping as best they can to the shadows as they pass. Mastiff, a veteran of their number is
at the fore, though as his soft steps carry him to the edge of the main thoroughfare he
halts. Quick, clever eyes scane up and down the street, ere he turns back to motion to
shadowed figures behind him.
[Magnus]
Amongst the shadows beside his brother Mastiff, slinks the Warden Magnus. Longsword
already drawn, his shield is absent today and is replaced with a throwing knife. His eyes
scan the locale for enemies but his twitching knife hand suggests that he would much rather
be engaging the enemy than sneaking around but he holds his tongue. A grim expression
decorates his face this day as news likely has reached him of the further sacrifices of the
people of the town by the tribal Easterlings as well as the several deaths of the members of
his brotherhood from the battle for the gate.
\"Seems us Royals are the first ones in and the last ones out, Mastiff.\" At this a
sudden grin decorates Magnus\' face, his grief forgotten for the moment.
[Raynar]
There is one amongst the Warden numbers that is not a Royal Warden. This is made
abundantly clear mainly by the fact that his uniform, what little shows beneath his cloak, is
of the King\'s Men. Unsheathed blade is gripped in hand beneath the same dark fabric of the
cloak, whilst a shield is ready to be swung into place given a few seconds.
This not-Warden is Raynar of the Karath, Sergeant in the King\'s Men. He moves as
quietly as he is able, no words passing his lips and into the night.
Magnus takes his shield off of his arm an slings it behind his left shoulder.
[Adom]
Tucked in the alley, backs to the southern wall of the warehouse, a patrol of five
Easterlings stands watchful, waiting. Their breath rises and falls almost in unison, each
bearing gilded scimitar, shields carved with wooden fangs around the rim - emblazoned with
the forbidden red eye. Dark cloaks hide sandy features, their weapons kept low - avoiding the
glint of bright moonlight. Wordlessly, Akhbar nods his approval to Barzil\'s gambit: the
smallest of the scouting party climbing then into a large woven basket, and the captain
closing the lid. The youth\'s shield rests next to his hiding hole, symbol turned to the wall
as if it were forgotten amidst the recent loss of the gates to the Bardings.
Stroking his pointed beard in thought, the captain finds his next move. Again without
speaking, motion of his hand and a directed nod of his helmetless head, he signals Sekhnu and
Masifa to climb to the warehouse roof. Taking a knee, Masifa pushes his partner high enough
for him to grasp the thatching at a cross-beam. Holding to the wood, Sekhnu extends his hand
back down, and helps to pull the other up.
And so the Easterling captain waits for any sound to confirm his suspicions - that
the men of Dale brave the night and the still treacherous paths of the city. Tar stays at his
side, the bristling muscled champion ready in his sworn duty to protect his vicious leader.
[Lorthrain]
In the meanwhile, the veteran Warden Mastiff looks to his fellow Magnus and a wry smile curls
upon his lips as he nods. \"Though,\" says he, nodding to Raynar next, \"this night we have with
us a lord of Karath, and that is no small thing. Let us hope your training will not be
needed, Sergeant, though surely I am glad of it.\"
He sniffs then in a feral fashion as his eyes slip up and down the street once more. \"It\'s
quiet, Magnus I trust not this silence. One of us should try our luck out in the moonlight,
though it\'s a risk indeed for any man. Shall we roll a die for the honour?\"
[Magnus]
As the Warden Mastiff talks to Magnus, the younger man nods. \"True enough.\" As the
sniffs are made, Magnus shrugs. \"No need, brother. I will go. You know how much I love being
the bait.\" All smiles, the tall willowy man ceases his slinking and without another word
makes to leave the shadows to enter the moonlight. The throwing knife is slipped into his
palm, ready to whipped towards an enemy.
The Royal Warden, now seperate from the rest of the party, begins his act. Whipping
about his head back and forth like a green idiot, the \'lost soldier\' moves his longsword
about at any nightly noise in an attempt to draw attention away from the surprise hidden
within his other hand.
[Raynar]
A soft breath of a snort comes from the Karath before he nods his head slightly to
Mastiff, grin upon his face for a moment. \"Better to have it and not need it...\" Murmurs the
Sergeant in quiet response before he falls silent again.
A smirk flashes over the face as Magnus steps out as the distraction, shoulders
shaking a moment in supressed laughter.
[Adom]
A shadow lengthens across the gap between the warehouse and the neighboring shops, the brave
trace of a man venturing into the open. Tar snarls for blood, the deep brown markings of his
tribe contorting on greedy face - and AKhbar quickly pressing a hand to the brute\'s
metal-armored chest, holding him back from action. The captain presses a finger to his lips,
releasing his grasp to stoop and find a large rock. Bending low he throws it high into the
night, aiming to the far side of the street - where it then lands with a crash and thud into
the remnants of an abandoned trading post.
On their bellies the rooftop soldiers crawl together up one corner beam, now to the
center post, and splitting one left, one right they continue downwards towards the
street-side corners. At last slowly and silently drawing their blades, Masifa and Sekhnu keep
their scimitars almost tucked in the roof\'s thatching.
The basket wobbles nervously - and the leader is quick to remind its cargo to stay brave -
with a swift quick.
[Lorthrain]
As the rock goes crashing, Mastiff\'s eyes narrow, and once more do they sweep the shadowed
alleys across Oak Barrel Avenue sniffing anew quietly. His hand motions to Raynar and the
other Wardens, two to be precise, ere he points toward one alleyway in particular. If the
veteran Warden has thought to look upward, he hides it well for his eyes do not stray to the
rooftops.
[Magnus]
As the rock is thrown, the \'green soldier\' visibly shakes and leaps to face the
direction of where the rock has landed. The longsword wobbles about like a caught fish as its
owner trembles in /fear/. \"Whos there!\" The high pitched voice sounds into the shadows.
\"Mmmmm..my....mmyy...myyy, Father is a rich men! He\'lll
rreeereeee.....reeereee..reee..reeeward you, if you don\'t hurt me!\" The young \'coward\'
announces to the night with a trembling voice.
[Raynar]
With a nod, Raynar slowly moves towards the indicated alleyway with the other two
Wardens, sticking to the shadows. The Sergeant settles his cloak about himself a little more
before focusing on his surroundings the Karath\'s eyes flick about, looking for anything out
of place.
[Adom]
Seeing the tone-less skinned man of Dale, sharp white reflection in the moonlight middle of
Oak Barrel Avenue, Tar\'s memory fills with images of his ravaged comrades - and Akhbar can no
longer hold him back. \"
curses, raging forward into the street - wide shield centered steady at his chest, glittering
scimitar raised by rippling sword-arm.
And so follows Akhbar, a leader who never stands alone or afraid. More measured are his
armored heavy steps, wide body approaching would-be victim. His eyes scan the shadows -
perhaps catching a hint of movement, he raises a hand in the air - and the rooftop warriors
heed the signal, as yet waiting to dive.
\"Fearful one, your money is no good,\" quips the leader, raising his own scimitar.
Akhbar settles in a fighting stance, confidence in his champion Tar\'s might. He circles left,
peering into the alleys and covered porches he circles right, spinning the blade about the
air.
[Lorthrain]
Mastiff\'s eyes widen as he catches sight of the burly man\'s advancem and then they fix upon
Akhbar in tow. Knuckles whiten further as they grip the hilt of his short sword, and the
veteran Warden slips from the shadows to stand by his fellow.
\"
Rhunese words of Akhbar, and steel is in his eyes to match that in his palm as he closes the
distance.
\"Does your ox need your yoke?\" he taunst then in the Common Tongue.
[Magnus]
As the \'lonely warrior\' finally hears his enemy approach, the act is dropped and the
Royal Warden spins to face the two men. As he turns, the blade in his left palm is thrown
with all the precision a few seconds can give towards the man who speaks. Remaining flued in
motion, the Royal Warden now places both hands upon his longsword in a high guard stance.
What Magnus says next is in Logathig but to those with a bare knowledge of the
language they would recognize the mention of \'mothers\' and \'being in beds\'. The specifics
however would be lost on them.
[Adom]
Zip and sting comes the bite of a throwing knife, buried full into the Champion Tar\'s right
shoulder. His left hand darts up, shield strapped firmly to the fore-arm, ripping the blade
back from his flesh and dropping it to the dirt. A spray of red arcs into the moonlight,
signaling the depth of the wound. Answering in rough common, Akhbar declares, \"My ox bites,\"
and he charges forward to fight at the brute\'s side.
In the shadows, the basket wobbles again. On the rooftop the pair of Easterlings
simultaneously look to the other, then down to the street and the first strike, but patiently
they wait - for the fight in the street seems yet in their favor.
[Lorthrain]
Mastiff springs into action and out lashes his blade to draw the attention of Akhbar if he
may a cold light dancing in his eyes as the moon\'s sheen catches them. No sooner as he
struck, then his feet are circling about, attempting perhaps to turn the commander\'s back to
his own ox-like comrade.
[Magnus]
\"How come I always get the big one?\" Magnus says with a quick chuckle before
charging towards Tar. Closing the distance together with his opponent\'s charge, the Royal
Warden swings his blade down with the entire weight of his upper body down towards the legs
of the giant man. \"Just like old time, eh Mastiff?\" The laugh that follows is half suppressed
by the physical exhurstion the younger man must commit.
Magnus attacks Easterling Sortie with his Longsword and moderately wounds it!
[Raynar]
It is only after Tar and Akhbar start fighting that Raynar and the two Wardens with
him slip fully into the alleyway their eyes quickly flick about, searching for any
indications that there might be more Easterlings lying in wait.
[Adom]
Crash comes the blade of Mastiff meeting Akhbar\'s scimitar mid-air. Peeling his own blade
away, searching to return the strike upon Mastiff\'s sword-arm, the Captain swings too quick -
catching a forceful blow from the man to the abdomen. A wrinkle of crimson trickles across
his studded armor, flowing down his leg. Bashing the attack away with his shield, Akhbar
reaches back to swing once more - a side swipe now aimed to strike shoulder above his
opponents shield.
A new strike also tears Tar\'s flesh, gutteral howl his response, a mighty yell to
reach the moon. Viciously, unguardedly he rears his scimitar back upon Magnus, swinging then
upwards - his goal to free the man\'s neck of his head\'s burden.
And as the strength of the Dale Men\'s search party now shows with Raynar\'s advance,
so comes the surprise from the roof - Masifa and Sekhnu rising at once to pounce upon their
now exposed prey. Through the air they bound, shield\'s before their bodies to crush those now
seen on the street. Barzil remains safely hidden in the alley - the clash of steel and scream
of his compatriot as yet not pulling him into the fray.
Easterling Sortie lashes at Magnus with their jagged swords.
Easterling Sortie moderately wounds him!
[Magnus]
The tall willowy man now does what he can to dodge the return blow of the massive
Tar, but is too slow. Avoiding damage to his neck, the blade of the Easterling instead
catches the Warden\'s shoulder and rips through the fine ring mail of the man. Blood dripping
through the broken rings, Magnus laughs through the pain and adds to Mastiff \"Yes. Definately
the old times.\"
Whirling the longsword around, he moves to slash at Tar\'s chest with a vengeance.
Magnus attacks Easterling Sortie with his Longsword and badly wounds it!
[Lorthrain]
Mastiff wears no shield, but perhaps he will come to rue the lack of it, for his shoulder is
caught well by the serrated blade of Rhun a growl of pain rumbling from his lips as he backs
away a pace. Spitting blood from behind his teeth as the gash stains his livery, the veteran
Warden lashes the air between them with a flurry of strikes. None seem intended to land for
true indeed they seem rather a ploy to keep Akhbar at bay while the pain from his wound
subsides.
[Adom]
A third wound nails the Easterling champion, his bloodlust weakening his defense and the
forceful thud of steal cleaving past leather armor and into Tar\'s chest. Once more he howls
like an animal of the Dark Lord\'s livery, his weakened strength sacrificing clarity of mind
for viciousness of attack. Casting his shield down, for it has served no protection this far,
Tar takes the scimitar in both hands, a full stride towards Magnus and now a mighty swing
from low left back upwards to his opponent.
Easterling Sortie lashes at Magnus with their jagged swords.
Easterling Sortie badly wounds him!
[Magnus]
Encouraged by the second strike, the Warden grins but alarm quickly fills his eyes
as the massive Tar casts down his shield and grips his scimitar in both hands. \"Oh boy...\"
The young Magnus then says as he watches the giant man move. He attempts to block but is
unsuccesful and thus Magnus sufferes in consquence. From stomach to shoulder the blade
reaches, the extreme force penetrating the ring mail and skin near the stomach but thankfully
for the Warden it holds as the velocity is lost and it rises upwards. Panting from having the
air knocked out of him, then Magnus looks like he is going to fall.
Adrenaline is a powerful thing however. Determination has filled this man to live
and so despite his gasping he moves to swing his blade with a mighty force with a thrust at
Tar\'s chest. No words can he speak in taught or joke as he gasps still while moving, his body
in shock from the damage it has just received.
Magnus attacks Easterling Sortie with his Longsword and moderately wounds it!
[Raynar]
One Warden goes down with a grunt beneath a dropping Easterling though the swinging
of a knife proves that he\'s still up for a fight. Raynar quickly turns, swinging his shield
off his back and onto his arm, cloak falling back as he brings his sword out. \"Ah. Now for
fun...\" murmurs the Karath quietly.
[Adom]
Fierce are Akhbar\'s eyes, his regard of Mastiff now swerved as he catches Tar hitting his
target hard, but well-matched and battered in return by the man of Dale. Perhaps fear weakens
his grasp on his sword, seeing one of Rhun\'s most fierce matched in battle. So it is that the
Captain steps back from Mastiff\'s jostling of steel, measuring and searching for where to
strike next.
The crash and crunch of metal, wood and bone sounds as Sekhnu and Masifa find the ground and
battle-readied opponents. Rising fiercely they both set to work upon their nearest opponents,
taunting and teasing as they zip curved steel through the air with the fire of evil promises.
But not all promises are to be fulfilled - some break by the will of good. So fall the
visions of Tar - as the tip of Magnus\' blade strikes deep and pointed through his eye and
into his brain. Twitching hands in reflex come up to grip and pull away the damage, all to
late - the spasms freeing his fingers from his hands as lifeless now he collapses in failure.
His heart rended by his comrade\'s collapse, Akhbar screams curses, \"
children!\" But he is also cursed once more with Mastiff\'s steel spraying havoc upon his sword
arm. He lilts backwards, pulling the wounded limb to his body. A whimper sounds from the
nearby alley.
Vengeful are the swords of Sekhnu and Masifa as they seek Dale blood.
Easterling Sortie lashes at Raynar with their jagged swords.
Easterling Sortie\'s attack misses Raynar.
[Magnus]
Coughing and inhaling over and over, the figure of Magnus is shocked at his luck as
the blade in his head sinks through the soft tissue of Tar\'s eye into his brain. His
immediate death avoided, Magnus\' strength fails him and the longsword falls from his hand. It
is not the only thing to fall however, as the entire willowy structure of the young Warden
now collapses as he grips his wounds in pain.
A bleeding mess upon the ground, the fate of the Royal Warden remains unknown for
now.
[Lorthrain]
In the meanwhile, Mastiff has recovered some of his composure, and now his features set into
a feral snarl a predator on the hunt, as he has tarined to be over many years spent
patrolling the wilds. The fall of Tar earns a glance, but little more, for his eyes are upon
Akhbar\'s blade and where it dances the Warden matching steps with the Easterling captain.
And then, of a sudden, his own short sword lashes out as might a viper strike, seeking to
relieve Akhbar of his gullet.
And Masifa may well have a tale to tell his comrades as they too join battle, for one of the
Wardens has been caught unprepared, falling to the ground with a vicious gash cut open upon
his chest. Growling and crying out in pain, nevertheless the man slashes his sword out
desperately in a bid to hew away Masifa\'s ankle.
[Raynar]
\"You curs shall be learned by patience,\" mutters the Karath Sergeant as he quickly
moves forward, sword flashing in a quick slash at one of the Easterlings that has dropped
from above bright steel seeking to draw blood.
Raynar attacks Easterling Sortie with his Longsword, but he misses by a hair.
[Adom]
Feeling now the puncture of Dale steel into his own gut, Akhbar tastes the blood boiling up
from his pierced intestines. Gathering a full mouth of the briney red, he spits the evidence
fiercely on Mastiff\'s face, spewing fire of words as he stumbles back again, \"
You\'ll burn for that!\" With renewed haste the captain clutches shield to his chest, charging
with lowered shoulder to knock his target to the ground by force of his fat body.
The battle turns now for the worse for the Easterlings. Hovering over one of the
Wardens, Masifa prepares to bring one cleaving stroke down upon the enemy\'s face - but he is
knocked away, a clean swipe stinging inner thigh all too close to unprotected crotch. His
feet trip upon Tar\'s mighty carcass, and so he stumbles - exposed to an enemy\'s charge.
Heeding his training, Sekhnu allows the rest of the field to dim, honing in upon his query,
narrowly dodging his own taste of death before striking back. As his curved blade rends the
air he yells, \"
Easterling Sortie lashes at Raynar with their jagged swords.
Easterling Sortie\'s attack misses Raynar.
[Lorthrain]
The charge of the Easterling captain is well-timed his bloody spittle scrunching shut the
eyes of Mastiff as the Warden is battered to the ground. A wheeze leaves the veteran\'s lips
as he lands, and for a moment Mastiff lies prone before his bulky foe.
And the other felled Warden watches with worry and ware in his eyes, wresting a wealth of
wrath from his lips to cry out in response. \"This land is ours, savage!\" says he, even as he
staggers to his feet to pursue Masifa.
[Adom]
An opponent with the high ground has all advantage, and so Masifa lies in peril - attempting
to push his weight and the weight of his gear from the earth, even as the Warden approaches.
The darkly cloaked figure of the Dale warrior hides the moon, and Masifa lies blinded in the
darkness and shadow. Holding his shield above him in defiance, he rises in time to see the
glint of steel flying towards his face. The wood splits and falls from his arm at the mighty
blow. The sweat of a fearful man blossoms on his nervous face as the Easterling steps back
twice more.
All that Sekhnu gathers from his opponents words is the well-matched anger of an
enemy, and so he answers Raynar - not with speech but stroke of scimitar. Chopping, hacking,
he aims down from above to disarm the threat before him.
Akhbar\'s ploy was risky, but the result was achieved - the two men equally grappled
with each other and the desperate push to rise above the other. Bashing, pushing, pulling,
the captain yells through the dark, \"
But there is no response.
Easterling Sortie lashes at Raynar with their jagged swords.
Easterling Sortie badly wounds him!
[Lorthrain]
Mastiff winces as he too rises, but slowly, and as the captain cries out the veteran Warden
snarls anew. What pity might be found in a younger man\'s eyes is lacking in the Warden\'s as
the moonlight catches it anew, and the short sword is put to work once more stabbing up in
search of Akhbar\'s savage heart.
Meanwhile, the other Warden advances upon Masifa his steps unsure as the injury on his chest
near doubles him over in pain at one point. As it is, no attack comes, and mayhap Mafisa has
a chance yet to win some glory among his fellows.
[Raynar]
Raynar moves, but not swift enough the scimitar catches him on his shield shoulder and arm,
the item itself out of place. A hiss of pain escapes from him, but he hardly pays it mind as
he thrusts his blade at Sekhnu\'s torso.
Raynar attacks Easterling Sortie with his Longsword and moderately wounds it!
A gasp of shock and horror flashes on Akhbar\'s face, pierced by Mastiff\'s sword through
portly flesh, in the chest and out through the fat of his back. Dying words, sizzling hot and
spraying blood are forced in common from his dark lips, \"The dark one.. will.. have your
lands..\" The cruel light of fear fades in his dead eyes.
Mafisa has had enough. Whether whips and cruelty should be his reward, or death and the
damned, this lesser soldier of the East loses the heart to fight. Already picking the words
to tell his superiors that may yet save his neck, he lifts to his feet and runs southwards
into the shadows.
The fear of the masters strikes Sekhnu as well, but he shall have death or none of it - a
taste of death now stinging past his armor and into his ribs. Knocking the buried blade back,
he sweeps his scimitar up in an arc and under again to Raynar\'s middle.
Easterling Sortie lashes at Raynar with their jagged swords.
Easterling Sortie badly wounds him!
[Lorthrain]
As the captain falls to his sword, Mastiff heaves a great breath of effort, and slumps to one
knee, only to glare about and survey the rest of the melee. Seeing only Sakhnu left, growling
as befits his hunter\'s mein, the Warden forces himself back up to his feet and spits out to
remind the Easterling of his peril.
The other Warden too, as Mafisa takes flight, clutches at his chest wound but turns about
also a third hard pair of eyes trained upon this lone warrior of Rhun.
[Raynar]
The Karath, what with a wounded shoulder and all, cannot get his shield in place in
time to prevent Sekhnu\'s strike from landing true. Another hiss of pain comes from Raynar,
his breathing laboured, focusing upon his opponent and ignoring all else as his shield arm
tries to curl protectively around his torso. \"Get ye gone, cur,\" hisses the Sergeant as he
brings his blade up and swings it at the Easterling\'s neck.
Raynar attacks Easterling Sortie with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.
Finally bursting free from the basket, ripping it sidelong with his scimitar from inside and
gasping then for air, Barzil graps his shield and flies around the corner. Horror shocks his
face - his captain, and champion both felled by the men of Dale he\'d long been promised were
weak. Fear of capture, or of punishment at the hands of Rhun\'s hordes spurs him forward, his
blade finding purchase in the back of the Warden who watches Masifa run into the distance.
The soldier of dale slumps to his knees as Barzil removes his bloodied curve of steel.
With no hope left, outnumbered, wounded and only the weakest of their eastern group
left to join - and so late in the fight, Sekhnu dodges another strike. The will of dark is
upon him, and he shall have his reward - no cowardice in this tattooed wildman. Furiously he
strikes once more for the death of Raynar.
Easterling Sortie lashes at Raynar with their jagged swords.
Easterling Sortie terribly wounds him!
[Lorthrain + Adom edits]
As he watches Barzil fell the Karath lord, Mastiff\'s blade slices the air in wrath, and
wincing from his own wounds he streaks forth to strike out vengefully. Away comes Sekhnu\'s
desperate Easterling head at long last, tumbling from his shoulders. Behind Barzhil, the
fifth and last member of the Barding quintet rises to jam the hilt of his sword into the
lurking Rhun-man\'s skull.
Barzhil crumples to the ground, and finally, less one fellow, the men of Dale stand alone.
[Raynar]
The Karath lord is down on a knee, blood seeping from his wounds and dropping onto
the ground. \"Well that... was... a challenge,\" mutters Raynar before slowly sheathing his
blade. \"Quality time with healers, now. Hurray.\" He sounds less than enthused about that,
groaning quietly as a Warden helps him up so they can get back to camp.