Attack at the Bridge

It is nearing night, though time is hard to tell in the grey flurries that sweep the crumbled streets of Osgiliath. A Gondorian patrol makes its way back towards the bridge, their uniforms and cloaks all dusted by white -- the grey and black and green of each unit indiscernable from the other.

Turlach is near the back, shivering and lagging from the cold -- he does his best to walk swiftly in the deep snow, however.

Walking grimly at the side of the patrol is Daerthor, his weatherproof cloak dripping with dirt and water, his inner clothes damp. He frowns and squints at the ruins the patrol is meandering through, checking frequently to ensure that they stay on course. Looking at the near-freezing Turlach and the rest of the soldiers similarly shivering, he sighs. \"You Hostmen have got to get better cloaks, even if it is just for this winter in Osgiliath.\"

Through the blackness tramps a black host, the crack of a whip driving them on. Heavy boots trample the snow, over the ruins, through the rubble. Heading west. At the front of the troop is a giant beast of the enemy--a troll. Tymae, in fact, bandaged somewhat but still mvoing toward the west, perhaps to redeem himself.

Accompanying the host are two squires, the white squire Calarion and a blue squire charged with educating the younger Calarion while Menelglir remains injured. The two remain silent, observing the scouts in their work.

Lagging at the back of this host is another troll and if Tymae is out to prove himself, Brollie doesn\'t seem happy at all to be here. His steps are slow and grudging, there is a scowl on his craggy, rocky face - In short, he is sulking.

\"I\'m sorry,\" Turlach murmurs through chattering teeth, clasping his cloak tighter. \"I am not accustomed to the winter ...\" There is a crack somewhere, somehow off in the distance, and the Man-at-Arms looks up in alarm, to see if any ice might fall on him again. Nothing happens, though he remains in position. \"Sir, what was that...\"

At Turlach\'s question, Daerthor frowns. He, too, has heard the echoing crack. \"Halt,\" he says, his voice carrying through the small patrol easily. There are some faint crunching noises before the group stops moving. Now, all they hear is the eerie blowing of a strong wind... but faint thumping soon reaches their ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. With each instance, the thumping gets louder.

Turning his head, Daerthor squints at the shadowy landscape, attempting to discern the source of the noise... and then the clouds shift and a weak shaft of moonlight illuminates the area.

\"Trolls,\" the Master Scout says, suddenly. Whipping his head around, he makes a quick calculation and judgement. \"We are too far from the fortification. Everyone, shelter behind these broken walls. Those of you who have bows, get them ready. Go!\" His mouth is in a straight grim line as he makes for the nearest pile of crumbling rocks.

The orcs and trolls make no attempt at stealth. No, spurred on by shouts and curses in their dark tongue, they move ahead. \"Look for tarks!\" comes the growled call in Westron. \"Get those trolls up front. Onto the bridge!!\" It seems they are here to claim the bridge.

Several orcs move back to chivvy Brollie onwards. Reluctantly, he quickens his steps - THUD - THUD - THUD - moving up towards the front of the dark pack. The troll is dragging an enormous club behind him the stout wood ringed with metal, and bristling with spikes.

The huge, hulking shapes are barely lit by the reflection of the moon on flying snow. Turlach forgets to move, his eyes wide as he tries to keep breathing. Another Hostman tugs on his arm, and the Man-at-Arms scurries behind a bit of wall, a hand upon the hilt of his sword.

Daerthor surveys the field to make sure no soldier is left in the open snow. Readying his bow, he draws an arrow and places it in position. \"Archers. Nock your arrows.\" As the thuds become louder and closer together, Daerthor steels himself, taking in a deep breath. \"Fire!\"

A small, scattered volley of arrows flies towards the black host.

You fire off an arrow at Tymae...

Your arrow flies wide of Tymae, doing no harm.

A few screams come up from the orc host, along with more curses. \"Fire arrows!!!\" the orc captains yell, punctuating the order with cracking whips. \"Flush them out of their holes!!\"

Tymae howls, quivering for a moment under the storm of arrows. He lifts his own club to fend off the threat of arrows, but catches sight of Brollie\'s. \"Mine!!\" he growls, looking to the nice club.

An arrow bounces off of Brollie\'s bald head. Another sticks a few millimeters into his skin, quivers and falls away. Brollie ignores them all, even as, beside him, an orc dies from a particularly lucky shot. He is glaring ahead, dragging his own club up, more motivated to attack the enemy by this rattle of arrows than by all the \'persuasions\' that had been brought upon him before.

Until he hears a challenge! The ponderous head swings around, small black eyes looking... there. \"MINE!\" he growls, both hands clenched around his precious, beautiful club.

Ollie wields The Squasherator.

Turlach dares to peek between two bricks, his eyes growing wide at the sight of these beasts close-up -- closer than he would ever have liked! \"Master Scout, sir,\" he says, a steely whisper that threatens to give at any moment, \"we cannot let them take the bridge. Word must return to the fortification.\"

\"Yes,\" says Daerthor in reply to Turlach, even as he readies his next shot, Daerthor turns to the nearest soldier. \"You. Run to the fortification and inform them of this attack. Make haste!\" The soldier nods and runs off as quickly as he can to dispatch the message.

Meanwhile, Daerthor nocks his arrow. \"Archers. Fire!\"

Another volley of arrows flies towards the trolls and orcs.

But just then, the wind changes, and the moon is blotted out of the sky.

You fire off an arrow at Tymae...

Your arrow hits Tymae, mildly wounding her!

\"MINE!!\" Tymae roars, thundering step taken toward Brollie. Club raised to swing at the other troll and...boing...an arrow bounces right off Tymae\'s nose. He howls, turning his anger now on the men of Gondor, taking a step into the rubble, seeking his attacker. \"Who hurt Tymae!!\"

\"IS NOT!\" Brollie shouts in furious denial. \"MINE!\" He drags his beloved club back, and smashes it down towards the other troll, greedy evil upstart that it is! And that Tymae has turned away mid-swing, makes it all the better!

Ollie attacks Tymae with his Club and lightly wounds her!

Turlach draws his sword and backs tightly against the rubble, his gaze flickering from troll to troll, his breath clouding on the cold steel of his blade.

Calarion who has been crouched down with the other Gondorians for this time draws his sword, yet remains still he waits, quietly observing though any man can see that uncertainty lies behind the young squire\'s eyes.

Howling with pain at the blow from Brollie\'s club, Tymae now turns about, swinging his troll at Brollie\'s head. \"Brollie no fight!! Weak!! Club for ME!!!\" This fight between the trolls, of course, opens the way for the men of Gondor to attack, as the orc host is now sent into disarray in their ranks by the dissension.

Tymae attacks Ollie with her Club, but she misses by a handspan.

Brethir shoots at the trolls behind rubble

Brethir launches an arrow...

Brethir\'s arrow flies wide, doing no harm.

As another soldier\'s arrow flies even after the plain is plunged into darkness, Daerthor curses under his breath, spotting the Ithilien cloak of said soldier. \"Archers, drop your bows. Take your swords and charge the orcs and trolls - we must defend the bridge!\" he yells over the howling wind, and runs out from his shelter towards the nearest troll: Tymae. Reaching her, he slashes at her leg with as much force as he can muster.

You attack Tymae with your Longsword...

Your attack against Tymae mildly wounds her!

\"HA!\" Brollie crows, triumphantly as Tymae\'s club (less glorious than his own!) swishes past his nose hitting nothing, except, possibly, the ground.

He shakes his club over his head, victorious!

Brethir shoots an arrow at the massave troll and does not do damage

It is now, when the trolls are distracted from the Gondorian hidden, that the latter might have a chance at attacking -- and escaping alive. No sooner has the last volley of arrows flown over Turlach\'s head that he glances to Daerthor, a steely fire in his eyes, nodding. A fierce roar escapes his slender throat, and he charges for the closer troll -- Brollie!

Turlach attacks Ollie with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

Brethir puts another arrow in his bow and fires

Brethir launches an arrow...

Brethir\'s bowshot hits Ollie, mildly wounding him.

It is just at this point that a swirl of annoying little creatures race towards Tymae - and himself! Brollie goggles down at them. One raises a flashy looking thing - oh right. A sword. The realization that he is being attacked (HIM! BROLLIE!) creeps slowly through his brain until at last - several gawping minutes after the blade runs a thin scratch down his shin, and another arrow has nicked him in the forehead - he roars!

It\'s hard to get a good angle at Turlach, Brollie twists himself around, bending half-over, trying to swat at the young man rather like a golfer.

Seeing his companions rush forth, Calarion takes a deep breath, calming himself and then rises from the cover. He leaps over the rubble and charges the troll with a battle cry of \"Dol Amroth! Gondor!\" The silvery blade swings at a troll\'s leg. The squire closes his eyes in anticipation of contact.

Ollie attacks Turlach with his Club, but he misses by a hair.

Calarion attacks Tymae with his Longsword, but Tymae parries the attack with her Club!

\"Ow ooooooohooowwww!\" Tymae, the troll of questionable gender howls. \"Brollie!!!\" he growls, as if blaming the gnats attacking at him on the other troll. He takes a step forward to try to shake the attacks off, heading toward the bridge as he does so, but the attacks persist, so he sweeps his club at the attacker nearest him.

Tymae attacks you with her Club!...

...and she hits! Ouch!

ARB: You\'ve been injured for 11 hp\'s by Tymae\'s attack...

...you have 74 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.

Turlach gasps sharply as his longsword runs along the stony shin and glances off, the edge dulled. It\'s like hacking at a wall. The club comes a moment later, narrowly missing the wings on his helm -- and the Man-at-Arms darts forward, in front of the troll, trying to stab at the gigantic foot.

Turlach attacks Ollie with his Longsword, but Ollie parries the attack with his Club!

droping his longbow Brethir draws his longsword

The tip of Tymae\'s club clips Daerthor\'s left shoulder, creating a huge bruise and a gaping wound. He falls, but pushes himself up painfully, still keeping a grip on his sword. \"Calarion, open your eyes!\" he shouts, frustration coloring the edge of his voice. Again, he tries to hack at Tymae\'s ankle, swinging his sword as quickly as her can.

You attack Tymae with your Longsword...

Your attack against Tymae mildly wounds her!

\"Gack!!\" Tyame sputters as something bites at his ankle. He kicks out, trying to shoo the annoyance away.

Tymae unwields Club.

Tymae attacks you with her Bare Hands!...

...and she hits! Ouch!

ARB: You\'ve been injured for 3 hp\'s by Tymae\'s attack...

...you have 71 left. Please RP this injury accordingly.

Tymae wields Club.

\"What?\" Brollie asks irritably. He looks up. Oh. Tymae is surrounded by the pesky little things. \"Brollie helps,\" he says amiably, forgetting that 2 minutes before the other troll was his implacable enemy. He wades through the skirling humans at his feet towards Tymae. That giant foot swings towards a hapless Turlach...

Ollie attacks Turlach with his Club, but he misses by a mile.

Hearing Daerthor\'s command, Calarion cautiously opens his eyes and sees what is going on \"What have we got ourselves into\" he mutters to himself before he mokes for another strike at the troll. The blade moves fairly fluid despite the little skill of the wielder.

Calarion attacks Tymae with his Longsword and mildly wounds her!

Brethir attacks one of the troll

Brethir attacks Tymae with his Longsword, but Tymae parries the attack with her Club!

\"Squash them!!!\' Tymae growls toward Brollie. Then he points toward the bridge and thunders to Brollie. \"MINE!! Tarks said small bridge, but MINE!\" Grumbling at the sword biting at him, he kicks again, this time meaning to shake off Calarion. All the while he swings his club wildly, so that it smashes Brethir\'s sword away.

Tymae unwields Club.

Tymae attacks Calarion with her Bare Hands, but she misses by a mile.

Tymae wields Club.

\"No!\" Turlach yells up towards Brollie, jumping out of the way of a very large foot. He chases the heels of that troll, swinging the longsword at his calves. \"No helping!\" the Man-at-Arms roars, seeing Daerthor stumble and rise again.

Turlach attacks Ollie with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.

The kick connects with Daerthor\'s side and he falls yet again, but thankfully, that is all - no more broken skin or bones, for that matter. Pulling himself up, he sees a troll\'s foot in front of him - not knowing which troll it is, he stabs at it with his sword anyway.

You attack Ollie with your Longsword...

Ollie dodges your attack.

Something fans his heels, but Brollie ignores it, heading enthusiastically for Tymae. \"Brollie helps!\" he repeats, eagerly, and takes a swing at one of the creatures bothering the other troll. Calarion is right there - and just behind him is Tymae.

Below, another one is trying to hew his foot - puny little weapons. Brollie moves, almost negligently, and laughs - an evil gravelly sound - when the sword digs into the frozen ground.

Ollie attacks Tymae with his Club and lightly wounds her!

\"Stupid troll!\" Tymae mutters, winding up for a swing and aiming toward Brollie\'s belly. \"No watch well!\"

Tymae attacks Ollie with her Club and mildly wounds him!

Calarion dodges the troll\'s attempt at striking him with its hands. As he ducks under the blow he makes for another attack, the squire appears to be gaining some skill in his combat.

Calarion attacks Tymae with his Longsword and mildly wounds her!

\"To the bridge!\" calls Turlach, lunging meanwhile for another attempt at Brollie\'s knees. \"While they are hitting each other, we must go!\"

Turlach attacks Ollie with his Longsword, but he misses by a handspan.

\"My bridge!\" Tymae responds to the call from Gondor! He lurches forward, then looks down confused as Calarion\'s sword jabs at him. Scowling, Tymae takes a swing with his club at the Squire, aiming to shove him out of the way.

Tymae attacks Calarion with her Club and lightly wounds him!

Brethir seeing his friend get hit by the troll attacks

Brethir attacks Tymae with his Longsword, but Tymae parries the attack with her Club!

\"What?\" shrieks Brollie. Fury sets his eyes alight. \"AM NOT!\" And as Tymae attacks him, slamming a blow into his stomach (and /totally/ unprovoked!), he draws back his own club and swings as hard as he can back at her. (Him! Whoever!)

Unfortunately, in the ferocity of his swing, he lets go of his club and it sails out of his hands towards Tymae.

Calarion feels the club make contact with his chest, it knocks him to the ground, but he is able to quickly get back to his feet. He makes for the bridge, though as he passes one of the large feet of the troll, he cannot help but strike as he runs by.

Ollie attacks Tymae with his Club and mildly wounds her!

Calarion attacks Tymae with his Longsword and lightly wounds her!

Grumbling, Daerthor pulls his sword out of the ground with a huge heave, sending bits of frozen dirt and snow flying everywhere. Hearing Turlach\'s words, he nods. But as the troll attacks Calarion, he winces. \"Everyone! Retreat to the bridge! Hopefully we have stalled enough time. Move, now!\" he shouts.

Even as he gives his command, he hews at Tymae\'s shin, swinging with all his weight, attempting to distract the troll from the bridge. \"SHINY CLUB!!!\" he yells at the top of his voice, seeing it headed towards Tymae.

Meanwhile, the soldiers fighting the mass of orcs, upon hearing the command, thrust or jab one last time before running for the bridge, jumping over the bodies of dead orcs strewn haphazardly, with a few dragging their injured comrades along.

You attack Tymae with your Longsword...

Tymae parries your attack with her Club!

With a last roar does the Man-at-Arms dash for the bridge, his sword darting brightly for Brollie once more.

Turlach attacks Ollie with his Longsword, but he misses by a mile.

Brethir attacks Ollie with his Longsword, but he misses by a handspan.

Ollie unwields The Squasherator.

Turlach unwields Longsword.

\"SHINEEEEEEEEE!!!\" Tymae lunges toward the flying club, heedless of all the gnats attacking him, his own club whirling around wildly, randomly hitting the men attacking him. At least it deters him from tramping onto the bridge.

Tymae attacks Calarion with her Club and badly wounds him!

\"Move! Retreat before we are all trampled!!\" yells Daerthor to the remaining soldiers around him. \"DO AS I SAY, NOW!\" Then he strikes at Tymae\'s leg again, still attempting to distract the troll.

You attack Tymae with your Longsword...

Tymae parries your attack with her Club!

Brethir does one final attack before running to the bridge

The troll\'s blow hits Calarion squarely in the chest, his vision blacks out on contact but in the last moments before he passes out he sees a small stream of crimson blood fly from his chest. Though after that, he is totally unaware of the surroundings.

Brethir attacks Tymae with his Longsword, but he misses by a handspan.

\"My club!! my club!\" Tymae happy dances, or as much as a troll can. He still has his own club, dragging along besides him, but as the two men of Gondor attack him, Tymae grins and brings the club down...smash!! to try to crush one or both men.

Tymae attacks Brethir with her Club and lightly wounds him!

\"MINE!\" shrieks Brollie desperately, ignoring all the fleeing pests, and racing after Tymae. \"Give it back!!\"

Brethir hit by the attack is thrown back and limps to the bridge

There is a loud cracking noise, and Turlach\'s head turns sharply, seeing Calarion fall. \"Squire!\" the Man-at-Arms screams, slamming the sword into its sheath and running back -- from the bridge -- against Daerthor\'s orders -- towards Calarion, heedless of the flailing clubs...

\"MY CLUB!\" Brollie howls, furiously, throwing himself on Tymae and clawing at her/his/its arms.

\"NO!! You gave!!!\" Tymae yells back at Brollie. \"Get your own!!!\" He starts stomping off toward the east again, the troop of orcs already ahead of them, not wishing to face a standoff for the bridge this night. Tymae slams the new shiny club down toward Brollie. Only Turlach is there, running to fetch one bleeding tark or another, and distracted, Tyamae swings his club that way instead.

Tymae attacks Turlach with his Club and lightly wounds him!

But Tymae runs away. The coward! Brollie gives chase, shouting angrily.

A swiftly changing shadow moves swiftly over Turlach\'s mad dash -- flakes of snow being scattered as a premonition of the blow -- and the youth is knocked sideways, the club bruising a newly-healed cut on his shoulder. But the Man-at-Arms has learned not to cry out. Biting his lip, he reaches for Calarion\'s unconscious form, and heaves.

Seeing Calarion fall, Daerthor frowns, worried, but this soon turns to near-anger as Turlach comes near. \"Turlach!\" he shouts. \"Go - look out --\" he is cut off as the club clips the Man-at-Arms. \"Turlach!\" he spits in frustration. \"Did you not hear! Move! Take him, since you are here - I will distract the trolls -\" his speech is short, disjointed - and again he heaves his sword at Tymae\'s calf, hoping to score a cut.

You attack Tymae with your Longsword...

Tymae dodges your attack.

A screech, perhaps to those that have heard such might suggest it to be that of a great eagle, echoes off the lands. Then there is a shoosh as great wings slice through the air and the following screech sounds as if it is right atop the ruins of Osgiliath. Should any glance skywards into the gloom perhaps a swift shadow can be seen as it wings over the broken buildings and the fought over street, just missing some of the taller structures.

\"Ha ha..ha ha ha ha....\" Ahead of Brollie, Tymae dances with his new shiny stolen club, dropping his own old club in the snow. \"Bridge mine, too!\" he taunts the other troll...and then his eyes go back to the men of Gondor still here. \"All those men..mine...snack...foooood....\" And to prove his point, he lifts Brollie\'s club and swings it at Daerthor, Tymae having luckily managed to move out of hte way just in time for the Master Scout\'s attack. \"Oooh???\" Tymae looks up at the screech--he scowls.

Tymae attacks you with his Club!...

...and you parry his attack with your Longsword!

Turlach flinches at the shouting of the Master Scout, and the heavy clangs here and there as the club is swung around -- but his focus is below. Slowly, the Man-at-Arms reaches under the arms of the unconscious Squire, dragging him toward the bridge. It is not an easy task, for the Squire is tall and the snow is deep.

Daerthor curses as Tymae manages to move out of the way just in time, and brings his sword up, just in time to intercept the club being swung at him. The awful crackling, scraping sound of club jarring against sword rings out, but Daerthor holds firm. And then the screech echoes around the field, and he frowns. \"Eagles?!\" he exclaims.

And then he remembers the troll glancing up, seeing Tymae looking at the shape in the sky, he jabs at Tymae\'s foot again.

Meanwhile, as the remaining Gondorians have cleared the field, the orcs still alive begin to come closer to the trolls and the Man-at-Arms, Squire and Scout.

You attack Tymae with your Longsword...

Tymae parries your attack with his Club!

Again comes a deep vibrating screech that echoes off the walls and down the streets. Now in the feeble light a giant eagle swoops down, and at the last minute the wings flare as the great talons swing forward. The eagle\'s full attention is focused on the creature that is fighting with the Gondorians. Another screech as he nears the foul thing and he allows him self to drop down swiping at the creature.

Gwamthor attacks Tymae with his Eagle Claws and moderately wounds him!

\"Stop that!\" Tymae howls, smashing his club against Daerthor\'s sword to stop the tark from using him as a pincushion. He\'s about to sweep his club down at the rather pesky man, but then the eagle is swooping down on him and Tymae screams, the talons biting into his stone-like flesh. So instead, the stolen club is swung upwards, trying to bat the bird out of the sky. Chicken for dinner tonight!!

Tymae attacks Gwamthor with his Club and mildly wounds him!

Turlach growls softly under his breath at the darting shapes overhead, though he dares not look up. He succeeds -- finally -- in dragging Calarion to the bridge, where others with perhaps greater strength of arms are waiting. Then he chances to look up -- and his eyes widen as he sees the Eagle.

\"GIVE IT BACK!\" Brollie howls, leaping for Tymae - who once more is out of reach - and staring at the sky? The troll tips his head back and stares. Then he licks his lips, a greedy, hungry light shining in his eyes. Without looking away from the flying bird, he squats down, feeling around for Tymae\'s dropped club.

Ollie wields The Squasherator.

The bite of talons is felt by Gwamthor and his mighty wings beat once to bring him upwards once again. The strike of the club is ignored if noticed at all, the great eagle turns on a wing and whirls back downwards, his body flies over that of the fellow carrying and the one carried as he tries to defend the two. Another loud screech rents the air and those massive talons swings outward as his momentum carries him over the foes once more. But it isn\'t the smallish beast that he aims, but for the large one. There, in his sights! The legs extend and the talons flash down to take a bite out of the other.

Gwamthor attacks Ollie with his Eagle Claws and mildly wounds him!

Daerthor breathes a sigh of relief as the Eagle attacks Tymae, and squints to the distance - the soldiers are all now at the bridge, good. He looks up, weighing the choices, and in the end he decides to save his life, trusting that the Eagle can hold his own, majestic creature that it is. He turns towards the bridge again -- but his path is blocked. Some of the orcs have dashed off, deciding that the bridge is not worth their effort, but two of them are headed straight for the Master Scout, who re-grips his sword and shield and starts hacking and slashing at the orcs as they circle around him. He appears to be holding his own, though one or two more small cuts begin to appear.

A moan is heard as Calarion, being moved by those still able in the company, regains contiousness. His eyes glance around wildly before he winces an moves his hand to his chest. A deep red stain has formed on the white linen, darkening the swan-ship image to a blackish color as the blue dye and red of the blood mix.

The bird comes right for him! Brollie starts to drool, squinting into the dark sky - no longer in the slightest bit concerned about his club or the dirty rotten thief who has taken it. He crouches a little, then leaps on high, swinging with all his might!

The eagle\'s claws rake the top of his head, sending black blood trickling down into his eyes, but Brollie ignores this too. Eagle Stew! Drumsticks! Visions of Dinners to Come dance before his eyes.

Ollie attacks Gwamthor with his Club and moderately wounds him!

\"Stay,\" Turlach, crouched nearby, says to Calarion. But his gaze is already turned towards the eastern side of the bridge, where Daerthor fights, and the Man-at-Arms returns thither a second time, drawing his sword to strike at the orcs that assail the Master Scout.

There is no loyalty in Mordor. No crying, either, but right now it\'s loyalty that matters. Tymae, seeing his fellow troll attacked, hesitates. Should he come to Brollie\'s aid? Fight the eagle together for the glory of Mordor or at least for an easy takeout chicken dinner? Nay....these thoughts perhaps might run through the troll\'s head, but then there is the matter of the CLUB. The shiny...somewhat...NEW club that once belonged to Brollie. Abandoning fantasies of chicken fricasee, Tymae turns tail and runs east.

The strike of the club upsets the flight of the Eagle which lets out a loud screech and tumbles in the air. A thud into one of the ruined buildings sends cut stones tumbling down to crash into the street from the impact of the mighty bird. The eagle struggles to gain air, wings beating every which way as another screech is let to fill the air. He turns once more as altitude is gained with every beat of those wings. Again he dives down sweeping over the Gondorians and heading to the larger of the two again. But this time only one talon is extended as the other is kept tight to his body, protected.

Gwamthor attacks Ollie with his Eagle Claws and lightly wounds him!

Through the fog of battle with the orcs, Daerthor sees Turlach running towards him, and he curses once again. \"Stay back!\" he shouts. \"Don\'t risk yourself --\" here he swats at an orc, and luck catches his sword at a sensitive tendon, causing the orc to stumble down -- \"get the Squire back --\" and just then, the thunderous footsteps of Tymae running away reverberate through the ground, distracting the orc just enough for Daerthor to slash his sword at its body, while squarely stepping on the fallen orc.

Ouch. That hurt! Brollie bellows as his poor scalp is laid open once again. A flap of skin sags over one eye, hindering his vision. Still he tries another swing, as enthusiastic as before, if less well-aimed. Pot-Pie! Chicken-Sticks!

Ollie attacks Gwamthor with his Club, but he misses by a mile.

\"But --\" here Turlach dodges a nasty scimitar, and hacks irritatedly at its owner. In the corner of his attention is always the Troll and the Eagle, a gigantic fight that towers over the snow-covered Gondorians and orcs.

The club swings up at the eagle but Gwamthor had already turned and gains a bit of height. So the swish of the weapon only causes some tail feathers to sway just a little. Two beats of his wings brings him just over the building that he crashed into earlier, one wing tip slicing through the gap that he caused earlier. Again he turns but this time does not fly to cover the Gondorians, but straight at the one that still fights with him. One talon, again, lowers as he pulls up from his dive onto the creature. At the moment before impact between bird and troll the eagle extends his talon to strike while his wings are already beginning to sweep out and down.

Gwamthor attacks Ollie with his Eagle Claws and moderately wounds him!

Brollie tilts his head waaaay back to try and see where the Eagle has gotten to this time. Blood and a flap of skin have glued one eye shut, and he glares through the other, swinging his club from side to side. Then.. there! A flicker of motion! The troll stretches to his full height, swinging the club towards where he thinks the eagle is - and screeching in rage and pain as the bird\'s claws but into his shoulder muscle.

Arriving with some twenty cavalrymen is the Lieutenant Aearon, their horses are not armored this day, they have mere saddles on them is all, the men though are armed to the teeth. And are rushing forward headed for the scene in front of them, spears at the ready. Half the men rush towards the Uruks that are about thrusting spears and attacking at any that are present. The other half, including the Lieutenant dismount and rush to aid those that need it.

As the Lieutenant dismounts he looks about the area, shouting order to his men and thrusting his own spear at one of the Uruks, fighting whilst he scans the grounds.

Ollie attacks Gwamthor with his Club, but Gwamthor parries the attack with his Eagle Claws!

Chopping at his orc and finally tearing him down, Daerthor turns his attention to the next Uruk to bother him - it appears the party has regrouped and re-attacked. At the sound of the cavalry appearing, he heaves a sigh and fights with renewed vigour, though blood continues trickling down from the wound on his shoulder. \"My one life is not worth two, Turlach!\" he grits through clenched teeth, his jaw muscle tightening as he parries the stroke of a scimitar.

A screech from the eagle as he feels the talons bite into flesh then releasing. As he does and the swing of the club comes Gwamthor tries to grab at the weapon. But his attempt only saves him from the strike and those claws of his close not on a weapon but on thin air. Wings claw for air and the eagle struggles to gain altitude. Three attacks so close together has slowed the bird to a near crawl. Height is what is needed and Gwamthor struggles to gain it. His path carries him over the Gondorians, sharp eyes scan those below and if any where to look perhaps that was indeed a nod of his head. Up and up into the blackness of the night and the clouds, but a screech tells all that he is still there. Perhaps it is a break in the clouds but for the keen of eye they can see that he has turned and is returning to the fight, full speed as wings tuck back near his body.

\"I am helping you to finish the job --\" retorts Turlach breathlessly, past the point of fear, an orc\'s bloody handprint smeared on his face. Then he stabs forward, but the uruk is the stronger -- it gives a gleeful shriek and bashes the Man-at-Arms towards the bridge-rail with a tattered shield.

Thrusting his spear forward, the Lieutenant catches one of the Uruks in the throat, it then lets out a gurgled scream.. Then falls dead to the ruined grounds.. Still moving with ten of the Calvarymen, as they thrust their spears and swing their swords striking any foul beast that comes within distance. The men move towards the Squire Calarion, and Master Scout Daerthor.

As they near them the Lieutenant grabs his longbow and notches an arrow, scanning the area he sees the foul troll and takes aim.. Drawing his arrow back he holds it a moment then releases it, the arrow traveling towards the huge troll.

Aearon launches an arrow...

Aearon\'s bowshot hits Gwamthor, lightly wounding him.

Daerthor finishes off another orc, and takes a deep breath. \"Yes, Turlach, but if you get yourself --\" and then the uruk bashes the Man-at-Arms, and Daerthor runs towards him, yelling as he thrusts his sword towards the offending orc to distract him from attacking Turlach any more. \"If you get yourself killed, like now!!\" he shouts frustratedly.

\"Come back!\" Brollie howls, shaking his club over his head. He presents a bizarre picture - with half his scalp crusted down over one eye! An arrow whistles past his nose as he turns in a full circle, staring up into the sky, and utterly oblivious to anything - or anyone! - he might step on.

As he dives down at the troll, Gwamthor flies right into the path of the arrow. A screech, filled with pain, fills the air and the attack is broken off. As the wings beat his beak goes to the arrow that now sticks into his leg. An attempt to dislodge it fails and he swings about to fly over the heads of his friends. But this is a Northern Eagle, one of Throndor\'s own. An arrow will not stop the bird. He squawks at those below before he flies at the troll. The good talon extends and he makes an attempt to attack., though not with the vigor as his earlier.

Gwamthor attacks Ollie with his Eagle Claws and moderately wounds him!

Said offending orc is skewered by the Master Scout\'s blade, dripping nasty dark blood on Turlach as it falls forward. \"Sorry,\" the Man-at-Arms murmurs, squirming out from under the corpse. \"I was only -- I\'ll go back now. Sir.\"

It is coming back - coming back - Brollie sets himself, and as the eagle hits its lowest point, he leaps again, slashing out with the borrowed club (not nearly as good as his own!). The bird\'s claws catch his arm, dragging twin furrows down the biceps.

Ollie attacks Gwamthor with his Club, but he misses by a mile.

As the troll moves and the arrow just misses him.. Then strikes the eagle the Lieutenant returns his Longbow to his back.. A look of disappointment upon and frustration upon his face.. At such a horrible shot from his longbow. Grabbing his spear the Lieutenant re-join the attack upon the Uruks thrusting his spear at the nearest enemy.

\"Go if you can,\" says Daerthor as he pulls his sword out of the orc. \"Make sure Calarion gets to a healer before he bleeds to death.\" With a nod at Turlach, he turns his attention on the next living thing next to him - and lo and behold, it is the troll again. Looking up, he sees the Eagle rake the troll\'s arms, and focuses on the troll\'s stump of a leg, hacking at it.

You blindly attack Ollie with your Longsword...

Ollie dodges your attack.

As the talon strikes it twists the wounded eagle and breaks his flight path. Perhaps this is what caused the ever ready troll to miss? But miss he did and Gwamthor beats to gain altitude again only to turn to fly over the heads of his friends. A path that he has repeated, perhaps in an attempt to drive off the foe. If so it doesn\'t seem to be working. A screech and two massive beats of his wings sends the snow that still goes undisturbed on the ground to swirl into the air behind him. The good talon once again comes out to attack the troll along with the Gondorian.

Gwamthor attacks Ollie with his Eagle Claws and lightly wounds him!

\"Yes,\" says Turlach, nodding dazedly, ere he dodges another orc and takes off at a run back behind the cavalry line. \"Calarion,\" he murmurs, hovering near the Squire but not daring to touch him. \"He needs a healer,\" the Man-at-Arms cries to the nearest who will listen. \"His chest was struck and he will freeze!\"

Brethir goes to the bridge and sits down for rest

Calarion is barely concious, his vision is hazy and only a swimming dark image of Turlach is before him in the blackness of the night, but the Man-at-Arms is correct, the wound is still bleeding and Calarion feels the cold like an icy knife penetrate through him. Without help, he may soon be beyond saving.

It is altogether too much. Tymae has stolen his lucky club, and then run away! Leaving him, Brollie, alone to face the Eagle - and flying meals are /such/ a tribulation. And beyond all that, he can\'t even properly see where the creature has gotten to, until it attacks out of nowhere! Another furrow opens on the troll\'s tender head, and perhaps some modicum of sense finally enters his foolish brain. For instead of trying to attack what he can\'t see, he turns and stomps off, scowling. Leaving as he came - in a sulk.

Hearing the words of Turlach the Lieutenant points to one of his men and then to a horse shouting \"Get upon that horse and take that injured squire to the healers!\"

The man being shouted at, mounts a horse and rides towards the Man-at-Arms and squire shouting \"Give him here..\"

Thrusting his spear once again the Lieutenant strikes down another Uruk and continuing to fight.

Frustrated as the blood seeps through the Squire\'s tunic, Turlach tears the black cloak that has hereto covered himself from his shoulders, swathing Calarion in it and wrapping it tightly as he can to prevent any damage from shifting shattered bones. \"You must ride swiftly, but do not jar his wounds,\" he says anxiously, helping the other soldier lift the Squire.

Getting the squire upon the horse the Soldier positions him so that he will not fall, then with that he rides off at a fast gallop rushing the injured squire back to the garrison.. And the Healers.

Seeing the troll lumber off, as well as the rest of the foes, Gwamthor wheels once again in the sky and sweeps low and slow over the bridge only to land just from the humans. Wings tuck to his sides and he lowers his head to study the arrow that still sticks out of his leg. A tug with the beak only fails again to dislodge it so he turns to the humans \"Is he going to be well?\" Comes his harsh voice as he studies the fallen Gondorian.

As the troll runs away, his thundering footsteps shaking the ground again, Daerthor slashes at another orc. But the disappearance of the troll throws the orcs into disarray - soon enough, they abandon the fight, opting to flee in the direction of the trolls. Daerthor does not chase, his energy sapped by the fight, leaving any chasing to the cavalry. Instead, he starts trudging back to the cavalry and the bridge wearily, pushing himself to move as quickly as possible.

As the Uruks flee the Calvary pursues but for a moment.. Then turn about and return to the rest of the Gondorian soldiers.. The Lieutenant looks to the great Eagle, his face writ with shame.. Then looking about the battlefield he studies the grounds. His eyes moving about, then going back to the great eagle.

Reaching the bridge, Daerthor salutes to Aearon, and to the Eagle. \"Lieutenant, sir Lord Gwamthor.\"

Shivering now that his cloak is gone, Turlach huddles close to one of the sweat-worked, steaming horses, looking up at the eagle with wide eyes. Everything is in large proportions tonight.

A dip of his head to the arriving Gondorian \"It is well met,\" he greats \"I saw the fight, thought that I might be able to help.\" A glance to the arrow \"But it seems as if one of their archers was better than I thought,\" Gwamthor says, shaking his large head in disgust.

Seeing the Master Scout salute the Lieutenant shouts \"Do not Salute in the field..\" then looking to the great eagle he says \"I am afraid that arrow may not belong to our enemies my lord, it may bel.. \"but his words are cut short, for an arrow from one of the rogue Uruks flies from the ruins.. Striking the Lieutenant in the shoulder, sending the man to his knees cursing loudly due to the pain..

As this happens arrows fly from the Soldiers at the position of the Uruk.. Grunting loudly the Lieutenant looks to the Master Scout with rage in his eyes, then shouting \"Everyone return to the Garrison!\"

\"Sorry, sir,\" says Daerthor belatedly, his mind not functioning properly... but functioning enough to follow the order to evacuate, at least.

Starting in fear as an arrow flies from the ruins, Turach continues to tremble, the post-battle queasiness coming to him again. Swaying, he is scooped up by a cavalryman -- made to sit in the saddle, still shivering.

Looking at the Master Scout the Lieutenant shakes his head and says \"It is fine Scout.. You fought well..\" grunting as the Lieutenant reaches to the arrow and tugs it loose, grinding his teeth as he does so, pain written all over his face.. Looking to the Great Eagle he says \"Please join us and have that arrow looked at my lord.. For I fear it is not the enemy of our enemies..\" his words full of pain and shame.

As the arrows rain in, Gwamthor turns his head nearly 180 degrees \"Yes, flee. I will draw them off,\" And with that said the eagle unfolds his wings and but before he takes off \"I will meet you at your camp,\" And with that said he takes to the air, flying in the direction of the source of the arrows. From the darkness comes a screech and then a scream of an orc. It goes on for a long time till a thud is heard and the scream silences.