The recapture of Buhr Marling
A tale freshly told of the Dale-Lands
Dale-lands soldiers come to reclaim their captured trading port.
Rhovanion, Along the River Celduin
The road travels endlessly in its pursuit of the River Celduin, whether to the west or the east. Were it not for the road being well used, a person could spend an entire day seeing nothing more than dense growth of vegetation, and hearing nothing more than the constant trickle of water. The journey between Buhr Mahrling and Finney cannot easily be tackled in the span of one day, and few trees grow tall enough here to offer one much shelter from the elements.
Obvious exits:
Weak Beast leads to Northern Entry to Buhr Mahrling.
West leads to In the Dale-lands, passing by Finney.
=-=-=-= Dale-Lands Time and Weather Service =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Real Time: Thu Jun 16 15:31:03 2011 MST
Dale-Lands Time:
Sterday, early afternoon on a clear spring\'s day, March 10 of 3053
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Dale-Lands Time and Weather Service =-=-=-=
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
The afternoon sun spills eagerly over the Rivers Celduin and Carnen as they meet, or Running and Redwater as they are known in the common tongue of Menfolk, though as if dapples the countryside that borders the realm of the Bardings, it finds a most imposing sight.
Buhr Mahrling, trading town of the deepest south, newly taken and held by the savage forces of Rhun, stands ready for battle. Along the crude walls can be found hundreds of sallow-skinned figures, each bearing a spear and serrated sword in the Easterling fashion dark eyes beneath studded leather helms gazing out ferally along the riverbank. A company of about a hundred fierce warriors also stands before the gates, skirmishers sporting ring-mail and short, curved blades fit for close quarters fighting. This vanguard\'s faces are painted, their arms and legs sporting bold tattoos, and in their own eyes can be seen the will to sacrifice themselves for the defense of the town and for their fellows behind the walls.
And they have need indeed, for approaching the town comes the deep trample of iron-shod boots upon soil, and the armies of Dale arrive to challenge the fastness of the Easterlings\' seizure. Grim of face and fell of eye they march on, until they stand just at the edge of bowshot, and there they come to a halt. At their fore are the captains and lieutenants of the Barding forces, among them one Lord Lorthrain of Girion, whose bright chainmail glimmers in the afternoon sun as he draws his sword and stares down the foreigners that are arrayed before them.
The defenders swarm the walls like ants upon an anthill, each moving with his own purpose toward a common goal. Amongst the Easterlings stands Arshak. Dark as all his kin, with slanted eyes and high cheekbones, he is marked apart by the armour he wears: row upon row of overlapping horn plates that bend supple with every movement, tight-linked as a dragon\'s scales. At his side is hung the long curved blade of the habitual horseman. Around him others of his folk are gathered: Bukhe with his jagged-aged sword raised, Nuhat preparing the arrows for his horn bow, Sardal the Halt leaning grim and harsh on his tall spear.
At the bright gleam of chainmail Arshak laughs and calls out in his own harsh tongue as he slides his blade from the scabbard: \"
[Raynar(#31345)] Amongst the front lines of the Bardings is the Karath Sergeant, Raynar. A grim, fell sort of smile seems to be playing about his mouth as the army stops outside of bowshot, his eyes flicking about the forces of the Easterlings. Sword drawn, he taps the flat gently against his shield arm before a quiet laugh escapes him.
\"And so we come to it,\" the Sergeant murmurs before letting out a slow sigh. \"Patience shall teach, so it shall.\"
[Alagnen(#8405)]
Havas Blackrobe remains far back behind the lines of the Easterlings. He sits up at a high point above the gate. In flowing black robes and a scarlet sash and thick locks of raven hair blowing around a sallow face, the commander looks both exotic and majestic as he surveys the battlefield. On each side are attendants holding flags that will be used to signal the left and right flanks as well as the center.
Long distance to Lorthrain: Louse nods, sounds good. Culture ooc room or offshoot of it maybe?
[Corawyn(#30485)] Out in front of the gates of the town, the skirmishers stand unwavering before the oncoming force, the embers stirring in their dark eyes speaking not only of readiness, but of a hunger for the battle soon to unfold at the point of their blades. The sunlight shimmers over their armor, and casts dark and fearless shadows beneath their brows as they wait.
[Barlin(#26904)]
The Lords of Karath array themselves at the flank of the beseiging force settled upon great destriers, their splendid armour gleams in the bright light. At the fore, is Irin Karath, Master of his House a man of immense bulk, he appears like a hulking bear, armoured in glinting plates of steel. In the depths of his dark eyes, a fire glows, threatening and fearsome. On the crest of his helm, which juts out vertically from the piece, the emblem of Karath is emblazoned in gold and silver.
By his side, is a younger image of himself his son, Lord Bernar Karath. The same fire glows in his eyes, and although his armour is less splendid, it is solid and impressive still. A great sword is strapped to the flat of his back.
On the left of Irin, is a much slighter man, with a worn, rugged face and hard eyes of an identical dark brown Lord Harlin Karath, a man of impeccable decorum, distinguishable from his esteemed brother by only his soundness of body and distaste for whisky. He appears severe and grim on the field of battle but then, so he does at the dinner table.
Lord Barlin himself, though, does not ride with his kindred on this morn mounted upon the sleek steed Amerfal, Barlin of the Black Arrow is at the side of Lorthrain Girion. Dressed in the livery of battle, for the first time in many a year, the Master of the Farriers eyes the defenders with a wary distaste. A hand rests on the jewelled hilt of his sword.
\" We will need to scatter them, Lorthrain...\" He growls darkly, \"... Before we can get to the gates. Or draw them out and way...\" His eyes stray to his cousin Irin, and the cavalry. Lord irin\'s eyes flicker to him in turn, as though awaiting a signal.
[Magnus(#31242)] At the fore of the host of Dale stand the Royal Wardens of the King. However, they appear very different from their usual. Mail has replaced the scruffy looking cloaks normally worn by the company and each wears a proper helm upon their head. Longswords, shields, longbows and more make up the equipment of the ranks of the Warden host. Appearing roughly a hundred strong, the Royals march eagerly behind their drummers and bannermen. At the front of the unit, is the man known as Magnus. Like his brothers, he is fulled adorned in the fine steel of his people\'s craftsmen.
Moving ahead of the main army, the Wardens move towards the gate and the Easterling skirmishers. The majority of the men have bows drawn for the moment with arrows drawn, ready to pepper the painted foes with steel tipped rain.
[Erdena(#20421)] Grim indeed is the name of the game today, as Erdena, corporal of House Karath, stands among the men of the wardens, at the forefront. Her emerald eyes set upon the approaching army as they detach themselves from the main host. A sigh escapes her lips as the woman\'s eyes close for a brief second, the ting of metal resounding as she draws her sword. Under her breath she begins to mutter, though whether prayer or curse remains to be seen. She raises her shield in front of her, sword poised in a relaxed but ready position as the Karath woman waits.
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
As the Men of Rhun stare down the Barding advance, Lorthrain for his part remains unmoved, sniffing ferally in the afternoon air before nodding to Barlin\'s words. \"I agree, lord, and perhaps it is a stroke of fortune then that the Wardens have been regathered in time for it. Your daughter is among them another fine Karath indeed. but let us not stand then on ceremony...\"
Raising his sword, the famous blade Scrutiny that was held by the late Lord Gelbard, the younger Girion then calls out to Magnus and Erdena. \"Corporal! Magnus! The lead is yours. Bowman\'s luck to us all!\"
And as his sword lowers anew, Lorthrain\'s eyes are set more grimly than before, and he nods to a squire beside him. The youth waves a banner of a sudden, and the ranks of Bardings behind him stir then, ready to march once more in earnest.
Nuhat counts his arrows, sighs and starts counting again. Bukhe leers at the approaching army and shouts a few instructions on what they can do with their personal equipment - sadly all in his own tongue, so most of the Dale-landers will be none the wiser. Sardal sighs mournfully. \"
Arshak grunts. \"
[Alagnen(#8405)]
Havas watches the Barding force near. The man has beside him yet another attendant holding a platter bearing sweet delicacies out of the East that have made the journey to this town along with the Easterling commander for his enjoyment. He chooses a candied date and pops it into his mouth, testing its quality after such a long journey...
The man smiles. He has chosen wisely. Turning to his lieutenant of the flags, he remarks in his native tongue, \"
[Corawyn(#30485)] Brave words and drawn swords are but distant foretellings and glints of metal to the Easterling vanguard. Though they have remained unmoving thus far, the drawn bows of the Dale-men\'s Wardens stir them to life with these words from their command. At once, these hundred men draw shields from their backs. They are small and light, painted with grim black and red markings - not quite enough to shield the whole of the men\'s stocky, broad-shouldered frames from a determined hail of arrows. Even so, the Easterlings\' eyes remain fearless black fires above them. And they stand ready.
[Magnus(#31242)] As the orders are shouted to Magnus and his brothers, a strange thing happens. The Wardens begins to sing. A battle hym of the brotherhood, they rise now in unison and volume as they approach their foes. It is not gutteral but rather harmonous in a minor key reflecting the current mood of the Wardens who prepare themselves for death in the name of their King alongside their brothers. Magnus, after acknowledging the words of Lorthrain, begins to join in as the Royals close the distance with the painted Easterlings. The choir of a hundred strong, stand now with their great longbows at their sides and draw arrows from cloth sacks rather than the traditional quiver due to the clumsiness of the devices. Acting in unison, the archers draw their bows and just as suddenly as the singing began, it ends.
No command is given to fire, for their years of experience make them need none. With a great TWANG, the bow cords are released and the steel tipped rain falls towards the enemy skirmishers. Not waiting to see the results, the trained marksmen prepare for another volley. Magnus, armed with only a blade, can only watch for now.
[Erdena(#20421)] The order has been given but the Karath woman makes no motion in response to it. The strange yet fitting act of the song begins behind Erdena a rare smile plays at her lips. A nod barely shakes her head as the iron rain begins to fall on their foes. The tip of her sword raises slightly, as if in a beckoning motion to the enemy at hand.
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
As the Wardens move out, Lorthrain permits himself a wry grin at the sound of their hymn, and nods to Barlin and Raynar beside him. \"Well, my lords of Karath, if our friends are keeping the vanguard busy, let us see about this gate. Onward, to remind this rabble of Rhun whose lands they march upon!\"
And with that he is off, wending his way with sword raised across the grass, streaking toward the defenses. With him a full company moves, three hundreds at the least, while the rest are kept back in readiness the archers and main column of Dale watching to see if they are needed. On they surge, skirting if they may the Easterling skirmishers, seeking battle with Nuhat, Bukhe Arshuk and the others.
Nuhat curses soundlessly as he sees that first flight of long arrows fall upon the now-distant Easterling skirmishers. He raises his own bow, short and curved: a thing of wood and sinew held together by bone glue (a symbol, it is put about, of the way the Eye has united the flimsy tribes into a stronger whole). The red-fletched arrow is knocked to the string and the bow already under tension when Arshak knocks it aside.
\"
\"At the gesture and the following words, Buhke grins and slings his jagged-edged blade across his back for long enough that he can bend to heft a lump of rock. Eagerly he awaits his first victim.
[Raynar(#31345)] An amused snort comes from Raynar. \"I don\'t think they shall forget so soon after our lesson, so they shan\'t,\" says the Sergeant in reply, moving off after the Girion. His shield, already upon his arm, is brought up before him his sword rests in his other hand, resting in a low, ready position.
[Alagnen(#8405)]
Havas watches the Dale-lander forces surge forward. He leans forward himself in his chair and gauges distances with a discerning eye. Turning to his lieutenant, he idly waves his two hands together, meaning the center and the gate itself. This seems to be an order as the lieutenant barks some commands and a flag is dropped, signalling those at the gate to be ready. In the town itself behind the gate, secret reinforcements stand ready.
[Barlin(#26904)]
Amerfal stirs beneath the mounted Barlin with a grimace, he whips the gleaming blade from its scabbard and spurs the sleek beast forward. With a whinny and a flaring of nostrils, the athletic steed bounds forth, braided mane billowing in the wind.
Behind the body of armoured warriors, a creaking machine chugs onward a wheeled battering ram, constructed of make-shift timber hewed from nearby trees. A thick log lies on a series of connected carts, roofed by a water-drenched arch of leather. Forming an escort around it, is unit of Dale\'s finest, accompanied by siege engineers.
[Corawyn(#30485)] Battle hymns mean little to the Easterling horde, but the whispering song of arrows upon the breeze is one they heed well. Every one of the one hundred skirmishers brings his shield up to brace upon his forearm. The sounds that follow are the dull thumps and sharp cracks of arrows splintering wood, and intermittent angry cries as some of the men find themselves pinned to the hard ground by legs and shoulders.
Those who remain unharmed rise with bloodlust in their eyes, and nary a beat is missed as they spring over their fallen compatriots to engage the Royal Wardens.
At the commander\'s signal Arshak sweeps down from the walls, scaled armour flexing like a living beast. The dragon warrior takes up his station by the gates, dark eyes glinting with bloodlust. Sardal, the lame spearman, is left to limp slowly after, shaking his head and murmuring sorrowfully with a rueful glance at Buhke and his rocks, \"
The archer Nuhat\'s eyes narrow to mere slits as he watches and waits ... and waits and watches. At last the enemy are close enough and he lets the feathered shaft fly - aimed not at a mail-clad leader but at a young squire holding a banner, easier meat. No sooner is the first arrow loosed than he is nocking a second ... and a third ... The barrage continues in a steady rhythm. Buhke has longer to wait, but when the first of the ram-bearers approach the gates he and his fellows are ready and a barrage of rocks, boiling water and even human waste meets them. With a wild ululating cry, Buhke heaves a second object and then reaches thirstily for his jagged sword.
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
As the Easterling skirmishers and the Royal Wardens join battle, so too does the charge of Lorthrain, Barlin and Raynar carry them towards danger, and the arrows whistle into the ranks of advancing Dale-men, felling a few of them at once. But the warriors of King Brand are not so easil turned away, and even as the rocks are hurled, the King\'s Men dart as best they can to avoid them.
Alas, not every Barding is nimble enough to do so, and a growl of dismay and wrath rise from the charging Northmen as many of their fellows are crushed or battered by the rocky barrage. Lorthrain calls a halt before the gate itself, raising his sword to signal the ram to come closer, and in a trice the ram is hefted by string hands the men of Dale hoisting it by handles darved for just this purpose, and they charge anew as they hurl its weight against the gate.
Meanwhile, Lorthrain\'s eye flits to the poor young squire felled by Nuhat\'s arrow, ere he snarls and whirls about to find Arshuk. Forward he rushes, his sword glinting once in the sunlight as he sweeps it towards the Easterling\'s neck.
Lorthrain attacks Defenders with his Longsword and mildly wounds it!
[Erdena(#20421)] It seems as if time moves slow for the corporal the seconds between each heartbeat stretch out for an eternity. The first volleys hit their mark, the sound of shaft hitting flesh echoes throughout the battle field. One beat, two, three beats as the thrashing horde approaches. Does the Karath woman hesitate? It appears almost as if they will be overrun and then, all of a sudden, Erdena lets out a shout, running forward towards the savages, a battle grin dancing on her face as her blade reaches to meet flesh and drink up enemy blood.
Arshak\'s face remains expressionless as the warriors of Dale begin their charge. Coolly he awaits their coming, and dances aside from Lorthrain\'s blow only at the last minute. Perhaps he has left it a little too late, for scales fly from the armour at his shoulder. \"Pretty,\" he greets the Lord Girion in heavy, accented Common. \"But you white-liver men do not have strength. /This/ is how to strike.\" At the \'this\' his sword-arm arcs out and the curved blade glides toward Lorthrain\'s hip with a seeming languidity that is deceptive.
Defenders springs at Defenders with fangs bared.
Defenders\'s attack misses Lorthrain.
[Barlin(#26904)]
Arrows streak passed Barlin\'s head, fractions away from his dangling lobes. Faster and faster Amerfal gallops, his hooves kicking up dirt and grass behind him. The jewelled blade of Karath lifts high, catching the sun\'s light and flashing he points it towards the gates, bellowing encouragement to the engineers.
\" Again! Crack her open!\"
[Magnus(#31242)] Their hym ended and their time for volleys used up, the Royal Wardens draw swords and raise shields as they charge towards the skirmishers with their long blade. Magnus, now finally able to contribute, lets forth a war cry as he and his brothers rush into contact with Easterlings. Blood splashes through the air as men are impaled upon various edges, thunks follow as shields are used as personal battering rams and screams erupt as limbs are lost in the fresh din of battle. The skilled Royals\' attacks are swift and smooth as if they are performing a dance rather than a battle.
Magnus, swings his blade now at the closet skirmisher, hoping to provide a quick death in order to move onto the next foe.
Magnus attacks Easterling Skirmmishers with his Longsword and badly wounds it!
Someone, at least, atop the walls must have a smattering of Common, for Barlin\'s words are taken up and then repeated in the Eastron tongue: \"
On foot below, Sardal is taking his time about choosing an opponent. \"
[Barlin(#26904)]
The ram is heaved backwards once more, the musled engineers pulling and pulling. Their teeth grind, their throats growl and then, with a chorus of yells, the hardened log comes crashing back down. With an aching groan, the gates rock but hold.
\" Another! Another!\"
For the third time, the beseigers dig in their heels and drive backwards, further and ruther, the ram lifting higher and higher. Then they release. This time it swings down with a lethal velocity, smashing clean through the flimsy gates with a violent splintering sound, the doors to Buhr Mahrling crash open, shreds of wooden streaking out and impaling men at random.
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
And the strike of the Easterling warrior Arshuk goes astray this time, for Lorthrain is nimble enough even in his \'pretty\' armour to jump back out of his reach. The Girion lord\'s eyes narrow, forgetting the rest of the fray even as the gates are burst asunder, stepping forward to aim a vicious slice of his sword down at the sallow-skinned man\'s knee. It seems the Lieutenant of the King\'s Men has no time for words with this foe.
Lorthrain attacks Defenders with his Longsword and mildly wounds it!
[Corawyn(#30485)] A quick death is indeed obliged as Magnus\' blade strikes true, as do many of those the Wardens wield. The tattooed, grim-jawed man who rushed to meet his sword is cut down easily but his fellows hesitate no more now then they did beneath a rain of arrows. No sooner than the Magnus\' fallen foe hits the dirt, another has sprung up to swing a bloody-toothed blade down upon the Warden\'s shoulder.
A short ways away, Erdena too fells a foe beneath her sword, who lets an angry howl as he falls to the dusty ground.
Easterling Skirmmishers lashes at Magnus with their jagged swords.
Easterling Skirmmishers moderately wounds him!
[Alagnen(#8405)]
Havas turns to see that wine is being served, brought by cowed Dale-lander children under the watchful eye of armed Easterlings. The general smiles and accepts a goblet from a young boy with a cruel smile before waving the children away. The guards use the butts of their spears to herd the younglings back down off the wall.
The splinters of wood do not discriminate between light and dark, west and east. On the ground by Arshak\'s feet lies a young Eastron, barely more than a boy, the crude spear in his hand still unbloodied. A long, jagged wooden shard protrudes from one eye socket.
Arshak himself shows no awareness of such things, nor a single reaction to the tumult of sound that herald\'s the gate\'s demise. He merely lets the momentum of his swing carry him lightly past Lorthain - though not unscathed. The blade has caught him behind the knee, and blood begins to flow. It is ignored as a mere inconvenience, a gnat-bite to a stallion.
\"You do not speak. Do you have no tongue, white-liver?\" the dragon-scaled warrior jeers. His own long sword lashes out again, the curved tip seeking to redden Lorthrain\'s \'white liver\'.
Defenders springs at Lorthrain with fangs bared.
Defenders attacks Lorthrain, but Lorthrain parries the attack with his shield!
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
But up in swiftness raises a shield of Dale to block Arshuk\'s strike the emblem of House Girion emblazoned with pride upon its surface as it deflects the serrated sword. Lorthrain\'s own sword snakes back to within his guard as he grunts: \"I have no words for you, invader only an answer in steel. These are not your lands.\"
And with that the steel of Dale stabs forth in search of Arshuk\'s savage heart.
Lorthrain attacks Defenders with his Longsword and moderately wounds it!
[Erdena(#20421)] \"Hah!\" A satisfying quelching sound greets the woman as her aim is true. She does not pause to enjoy victory, however, but continues to fight on with her brothers. She makes eye contact with a foe, her head shaking as her battle smile widens. Her shield arm lowers, attempting to knock the easterling offbalance, whilst slashing at his leg at the same time.
Erdena attacks Easterling Skirmmishers with her Longsword and lightly wounds it!
[Magnus(#31242)] And the shoulder of the Warden receives a large gash from the jagged blade of the painted warrior, but still much less worse than it would have been if Magnus had not been wearing his ring mail. Furious, the tall willowy man, brings his longsword around and swing it down against the man who just struck him.
\"For the King!\" shout the Wardens as he carve into the painted skirmishers. Some of the brotherhood are on the ground their fates unknown while others continue the fight, but one thing is clear. This day will cost the ranks of the Wardens.
Magnus attacks Easterling Skirmmishers with his Longsword and badly wounds it!
[Raynar(#31345)] As Lorthrain\'s charge and Easterlings meet, the Karath Sergeant throws himself into the fray, blade slashing and hacking furiously at any enemy that Raynar\'s blade might be able to reach.
[Corawyn(#30485)] Many of the Easterling skirmishers, if not all, have cast their battered shields down, and seem to take some gruesome delight in the spray of their opponents\' lifeblood on their armor. But when Erdena levels her own shield against a stocky, barrel-chested footsoldier, he loses his footing and tumbles back into his brethren for a moment. Once he manages to right himself, it is with renewed ire that he launches himself at the Warioress, swordpoint first.
But before the man who takes up his cause against Magnus has time to smile at the carve he leaves in the Warden\'s armor, he too is sent to a hastened end, choking on his own blood as he stumbles and collapses.
Easterling Skirmmishers lashes at Erdena with their jagged swords.
Easterling Skirmmishers badly wounds her!
Raynar attacks Defenders with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.
This time the touch of the Dale-lord\'s straight blade cannot be ignored. Arshak gasps as Lorthrain\'s steel drives into his midriff - perhaps it has not found his heart, but from the place it has touched red blood blossoms. Perhaps Arshak, like Smaug of old, has a weak spot beneath his left breast.
Yet even this does not daunt the Easterling. Turning his hate-filled gaze on Lorthrain, he hisses, \"They /will/ be our lands.\" His left arm clamps to his side, but the right swings out again in attempt to send the curved sword-tip behind Lorthrain\'s knee.
Defenders springs at Lorthrain with fangs bared.
Defenders attacks Lorthrain, but Lorthrain parries the attack with his Longsword!
[Barlin(#26904)]
\" Forward! Forward!\" Barlin spurs the spirited beast around, and his dark eyes fix on a figure wading through the throng of the gate lifting the majestic blade, he spurs Amerfal forwarded, gritting his teeth as he draws closer with a few bounds. The destrier smashes through one moving body, and shatters another, before it reigns up before Sardal.
Barlin\'s blade arcs downward, aiming to tear open the Easterling\'s jugular vein and spill his foul blood onto the grass.
[Combat(#13388)] Barlin wields Fine Blade of Karath.
Barlin attacks Defenders with his Longsword and moderately wounds it!
[Erdena(#20421)] Perhaps she had paused too long in barreling over her current target, for his sword finds purchase against her middle, stabbing deep. Her flesh rends like butter, a gasp being torn from her lips. Grim set though she does not pause, shield up now to protect her wound as she brings her sword across her foes neck.
Erdena attacks Easterling Skirmmishers with her Longsword and mildly wounds it!
Raynar\'s blade finds a target - in the melee that the ground about the shattered Gates has become, how could it not? But then the press of bodies shifts and the Easterling defender with the deep red gash welling on his back is gone. To death or to victory, who can say? Another leaps up before the sergeant and, ululating wildly, swings his jagged-edged blade full toward the Dale-lander\'s face.
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
And in the meanwhile, Lorthrain\'s brow glistens with sweat as he has to work hard to save his skin from Arshuk\'s renewed assualt. Once, twice, three times his blade parries the Easterling\'s blade, driven back a flurry of paces ere he darts swiftly to the left. Dragging his blade behind him it deftly slips up in wrath hoping it seems to catch his foe unaware in his charge and slice open the sallow throat of the Easterling.
A bark of command erupt then over the battlefield as another of the Sergeants of the King\'s Men hacks his way into the gate, though not without a squint to the plight of Erdena. \"Lord Karath!\" cries this solder to Raynar. \"Your kinswoman! She needs you raid!\"
Lorthrain attacks Defenders with his Longsword and moderately wounds it!
[Corawyn(#30485)] The warioress\' blade does indeed find her foe\'s neck, but manages only to draw a thin red line there are he ducks aside of the worst of the blow. His lips pull back from yellowed teeth in a hateful sneer as he lashes out at her swordhand, his own blade dripping with the Erdena\'s blood and that of her kin.
Easterling Skirmmishers lashes at Erdena with their jagged swords.
Easterling Skirmmishers badly wounds her!
Sardal is taken by surprise by the rearing destrier and stumbles back blindly. His halt leg does him no favours, and the horseman\'s blade comes down upon one shoulder, cleaving the leather apart. There is the uncomfortable grating of bone.
The spearman\'s eyes go very wide, and for a moment it seems as though the fight will be over then and there. But then the spear comes up and stabs forward like a striking snake toward Barlin\'s side: even one-handed, Sardal is aiming to unseat the horseman. \"
Arshak matches as best he can the steady rhythm of blade on blade, but it must be obvious to the Girion that he is faltering, hurt and blood loss telling. When the Dale-lord\'s blade rises it catches not his throat but his jaw, and from thence it move upward, tearing a long gash in the sallow cheek before culminating in a lopped ear. Fury and pain contort Arshak\'s features: this time he does not press the attack but stumbles back a pace.
Defenders springs at Barlin with fangs bared.
Defenders attacks Barlin, but Barlin parries the attack with his Longsword!
[Erdena(#20421)] The sword cuts into Erdena\'s sword hand, blood pouring from the wound. She seems a bit breathless but maintains a grip on her sword. She sets herself again, eyes full of pain and resolve as she drives at her foe again, this time slashing for the savage\'s middle.
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
Lorthrain in the meanwhile takes his chance to halt and glance about his sleeve rising to hastily wipe his brow. At the sight of the fierce fighting within the gate he nods his approval, and raises high his sword to signal the troops held in reserve, still out of bowshot.
Erdena attacks Easterling Skirmmishers with her Longsword, but she misses by a hair.
[Raynar(#31345)] Raynar\'s head snaps around when he hears the cry of the soldier, eyes fixed now on the skirmishers and their fight with the Wardens. A scowl appears on the Sergeant\'s features before he quickly disenages from the combat with the gate\'s defenders, breaking into a loping, ground-eating run.
Closing the distance swiftly, Raynar gives a wordless shout before slashing his blade at the nearest Easterlings.
Raynar attacks Easterling Skirmmishers with his Longsword, but he misses by a handspan.
[Corawyn(#30485)] \"Lie down, girl!\" the stocky Easterling barks sharply at Erdena in a clumsy common tongue. \"Lie down, or fight like a man!\" He stands brandishing his sword for a moment, the cruel snarl of his lips an evil smile as he taunts her and waits.
A ways off, Raynar\'s shout warns a wiry warrior of his impending blow with just enough time to strafe to the side and leave the Dale-man\'s blade ringing unmet through the air. The skirmisher is all too eager for a target, it seems, for he laughs cruelly as he brings his own toothed blade toward Raynar in a rough approximation of his own swing before.
Easterling Skirmmishers lashes at Raynar with their jagged swords.
Easterling Skirmmishers\'s attack misses Raynar.
Arshak has recovered his breath, if not the blood that now waters the lands he and his would claim. Seeing Lorthrain pause likewise, the Easterling takes his chance. Whilst the Girion lord\'s sword is raised high to signal, Arshak\'s curved slashing blade slips in beneath, seeking to part the mailed torso from the legs below. This time the torn lips do not attempt speech.
Defenders springs at Lorthrain with fangs bared.
Defenders\'s attack misses Lorthrain.
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
But the Girion lord has the chance to see Arshuk\'s strike coming, blinking at the last moment as he rolls to the ground urgently. So it is that he rises only to one knee when he right himself, and with his shoulder hidden behind his shield he lashes out his blade to hew away the foot of his foe, if he can.
Lorthrain attacks Defenders with his Longsword and badly wounds it!
[Erdena(#20421)] The Karath woman\'s eye twitches at the foe\'s broken words. \"Lie down?\" She speaks, the anger and pain coloring her words. \"Lie down?!\" Rage boils beneath the surface as she swings her sword in an upward motion, aiming for the sword arm.
Erdena attacks Easterling Skirmmishers with her Longsword and badly wounds it!
[Barlin(#26904)]
Barlin grits his teeth as he feels the blade bite deep into the shoulder of his enemy but still off the mark. Amerfal spurs backwards again, swinging blades scraping across his rump, shearing hair and hide. But the Lord of Karath bites with his ankles, bringing him forward... Just as the spear thrust leaps out with deadly intention.
But Barlin of the Black Arrow will not be caught by the first lunge of battle his sword swings up instinctively, deflecting the blow, and returning it in one motion.
Barlin attacks Defenders with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.
[Raynar(#31345)] A quick step back allows the tall Karath to avoid the Easterling\'s blade. \"Nice try, lad, but just not good enough, you aren\'t,\" murmurs the Sergeant before he lunges forward, thrusting his blade at the foe\'s torso with a feral grin.
Raynar attacks Easterling Skirmmishers with his Longsword and terribly wounds it!
Lorthrain\'s blow strikes home, biting deep into a furred boot. Arshak slips to one knee, breathing heavily now his death cannot be far. Maddened by pain and the blood dripping from his severed ear, he pushes the curved blade out before him, turns the hilt and swings upward, seeking to unman one who has proven entirely too manly this day.
Defenders springs at Lorthrain with fangs bared.
Defenders\'s attack misses Lorthrain.
[Corawyn(#30485)] The wicked smile melts from Erdena\'s Easterling\'s face even before her blade carves his sword-arm nearly in twain. Even as his weapon clatters to the ground, he growls with all the hatred of a wounded, cornered animal as the slow draining of his blood pales his face and brings him to his knees. But yet another comes forth to meet the challenge as the throng of skirmishers grows thin, not waiting for Erdena to regroup from her last strike before forcing her to defend against another.
Raynar\'s young Easterling learns his lesson dearly as the warrior\'s sword rends his guts.
Easterling Skirmmishers lashes at Erdena with their jagged swords.
Easterling Skirmmishers\'s attack misses Erdena.
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
Lorthrain\'s breath comes hard now, weighed down by his armour, but all the same he is able to drag his body backward, our of reach of Arshuk\'s blade once more his brow glistens with sweat anew in the afternoon sun. But long years of training pay dividends now, the Girion lord seeming to find energy at need, and raising high his blade into the sunlight he then arcs it doen with deadly intent seeking it seems to end this duel once and for all.
Lorthrain attacks Defenders with his Longsword and moderately wounds it!
Barlin\'s return thrust against Sardal meets naught but air - lame the old Easterling spearman may be, but he is wily. No sooner is his spear free than he is sidling back out of range. Soon his retreating form is lost in the melee. That best coat will not be patched with sparse grey.
Erdena is on the ball again, the harsh lesson spilling from the wound in her side. She eyes about, moving deftly out of the way as yet another challenger comes forth. The woman\'s sword comes down, the gleam of metal and blood aiming for a cut in the shoulder.
Erdena attacks Easterling Skirmmishers with her Longsword, but she misses by a handspan.
[Raynar(#31345)] With a brief smirk, Raynar pulls his blade out of the young Easterling\'s torso, flicking it slightly to get rid of some blood before he moves onto the next target this time, the blade is swung without a shout, aiming at an Easterling\'s head.
Easterling Skirmmishers collapses to the ground, defeated by Raynar!
[Easterling Skirmmishers(#23705)]
The warriors of Rhun are finally conquered, slain by Raynar
[Alagnen(#8405)]
Arshak drops back and out of the way, stung by the longsword. He frowns and then hisses curses at Lorthrain before once more going on the attack and slicing at the Girion\'s gut with his blade.
Defenders springs at Lorthrain with fangs bared.
Defenders moderately wounds him!
[Corawyn(#30485)] And in a final two blows, dealt between Raynar and Erdena of the Karath front lines, the last of the Easterling skirmishers meet their bloody end, leaving the defense of Buhr Mahrling to their brethren.
[Alagnen(#8405)]
Seeing his comrade slink off, Goda of Xak Tsorath is able to slide around to the flank of Barlin unnoticed. From this position, the fierce warrior is able to maneuver himself for a slashing attack at the Daleman\'s arm to cut sinews and tendons!
Defenders springs at Barlin with fangs bared.
Defenders badly wounds him!
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
Taken unawares, perhaps having expected to have vanquished his foe, Lorthrain is unprepared for Arshuk\'s renewed assualt, and so it is that finally are the rings of his armour sliced open at the shoudler the serrated blade drawing a gash of blood beneath. A cry of pain leaves the Girion lord\'s lips, though his teeth seem to grit as his eyes meet with his opponent once more.
\"Down, dog,\" says he, in a colder voice than his fellows might be accustomed to hearing from him, and up sweeps the steel of Dale as it aims to open up Arshuk\'s chest.
Lorthrain attacks Defenders with his Longsword and badly wounds it!
[Erdena(#20421)] A grimace on her face as her sword hits home, the corporal takes time to look about herself. The field before her lies scattering with bodies of friend and foe alike the din of battle coming from the gates. Steeling herself for movement, she calls to those surrounding her. \"Let us help our breathren! She marches then towards where the remaining enemy is gathered, a look of grim determination gathering about her.
[Raynar(#31345)] When the last of the skirmishers fall, Raynar takes a moment to shake some blood from his sword, muttering a complaint about the disappointing fight. The moment is short, however, before the Sergeant turns and begins to swiftly move back towards the gates and the fight there.
[Barlin(#26904)]
Barlin\'s eyes follow the lame spearman as he disappears into the throng a crucial mistake. A blade leaps out of nowhere, opening up the flesh of his upper arm with cruel efficiency. His lips opening involuntarily as a cry is stifled in his throat, the old knight is thrown from Amerfal, bouncing across the ground and thudding against the solid stone of the town wall.
But some instinct of survival sparks in the old dog\'s gut his eyes flicker open, vision blurred but present enough. Dragging himself to his feet, he spits a mouthful of clotted blood and saliva onto the dirt.
\" Come and have it, Easterling...\" He growls, lunging forward and swinging in an overhead arc, attempting to hack the flesh from the warrior\'s neck.
Barlin attacks Defenders with his Longsword, but he misses by a handspan.
[Alagnen(#8405)]
Arshak is stunned as his chest is creased by the longsword, slicing through his gear as if through warm butter thanks to the weapon finding certain hidden flaps that allow it to enter soft areas. The man staggers back, a hand grasping at his wound as blood spurts and pours forth. Feebly he waves his sword in Lorthrain\'s direction in a counter attack.
Defenders springs at Lorthrain with fangs bared.
Defenders badly wounds him!
[Alagnen(#8405)]
Goda huffs and puffs with gurgling laughter at the display of Barlin as he comes forward and attacks with renewed vigor. He is fresh and ready for battle and ducks easily before slashing easily at Barlin\'s leg to end his mobility so that he will make an easy target once he is down.
Defenders springs at Barlin with fangs bared.
Defenders severely wounds him!
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
But feeble or not, it seems the luck of Arshuk is changing, for Lorthrain\'s zeal acrries him too far into the path of the serrated blade. Wincing and growling in pain as his cheek earns a vicious cut, the Girion lord stumbles a pace, ere he looks to the warrior of Rhun with fire in his eyes. Perhaps it is the weariness of the batle that unbalances his mood, for the calm demeanour of the nobleman is beginning to slip, and his teeth grit anew as he stabs out his sword in search of his foe\'s heart.
Lorthrain attacks Defenders with his Longsword and terribly wounds it!
[Alagnen(#8405)]
Arshak finds himself impaled and he flutters weakly, blood spouting out of his open mouth before his limbs turn to jelly and he becomes dead weight at the end of Lorthrain\'s sword, fouling it for the moment.
[Raynar(#31345)] Rejoining the attack at the gate, Raynar once more throws himself into the battle, his blade flashing out to seek Easterling blood.
Raynar attacks Defenders with his Longsword, but he misses by a handspan.
[Barlin(#26904)]
The old knight does not scream. Perhaps he would, if he could. But the sound gets caught in his throat, becoming a guttural choke the blade adrags cross his thigh, the muscle spassing and giving way. Barlin is falls, face first, his sword clattering across the ground as he lands.
He does not get up.
[Alagnen(#8405)]
Leaving Barlin behind for the young Easterling lads to kill when they take the battlefield to dispatch the enemy wounded, Goda moves to intercept Raynar before others can be injured by this new foe. The Easterling champion growls as he attacks, slashing and hacking at the Daleman.
Defenders springs at Raynar with fangs bared.
Defenders\'s attack misses Raynar.
[Erdena(#20421)] Her quarry found as she arrives to the second round of the battle for her. The target she finds spots her at the last moment before she brings her sword upon his face, an ill placed laugh bubbling up from within her.
Defenders collapses to the ground, defeated by Erdena!
Defenders writhes around in pain, before expiring. Erdena has won the day.
[Alagnen(#8405)]
Goda\'s face suddenly disappears as it is cleaved cleanly from his skull, leaving a mess of blood and cartilage as skin falls to the ground. Bubbles form as air is exhaled, probably a scream, as the man falls to the ground face-first. He trembles and then is still, his spirit passing to the outer dark.
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
As both Ashruk and Goda go down, a mighty roar of triumph rises from the ranks of Dale, and with renewed vigour they pour into the breached gate. Men of Rhun scatter and flee before the charge, and small wonder! From the riverbank nearby the remainder of the armies of Brand march in to aid their fellows.
But while a victory this may be, the town itself stretches away street by street before the eyes of Lorthrain of Girion, and the Lieutenant of the King\'s Men seems both grim and wary in the face of conquest. \"To me!\" he cries out into the afternoon sun. \"Hold the gate, men, but do not give chase! We known not how many of their fellows linger and hide within the streets of the town, and we may find ambushes in wait. Secure the gates instead!\"
[Alagnen(#8405)]
His promises shown to be lies, Havas lies slumped over, garroted from behind by his own lieutenant who stands by watching the enemy poised to take the gate. He leaves behind his former master and goes down to lead an ambush.
Erdena spits at the ground as she watches the killing blow. She peers about herself then, breath coming labored. The Karath corporal seems lost in thought as she spends a moment watching the fleeing army before turning around to follow Lord Lorthrain\'s voice, stumbling a little as she does so.
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
And the warriors of Dale do as their Lieutenant commands the voice of House Girion loud and clear to their ears. No chase is given to the present rout, no harrying of the scattering figures, and with grim-faced guards setting up a perimiter around the gate and the adjoining walls, the King\'s Men begin to hold fast and take stock of their wounded.
Lorthrain strides to Erdena\'s side, his face awash with the blood drawn from his cheek, and nods to the Karath lady. \"Well fought, Corporal,\" is all he says in greeting, but the respect in his eyes is unmistakable, as it is the glance he sends to the fallen figure of Lord Barlin.
\"Let us bear him to the tents.\"
Erdena pauses as Lorthrain approaches, her breathing still heavy. Her gaze follows his, a hiss coming from her before grim features return. \"Perhaps...we could ...get some help.\" She bites at the bottom of her lip, only her eyes betraying the myriad of feelings she was having. \"Seems I will not come back from this war unscathed.\"
[Lorthrain(#23381)]
\"None ever do,\" replies Lorthrain, meeting her gaze anew, ere he sets to work.