Pins and Pine Needles

[+TIME] Middle-earth time is:

Late Morning on Trewsday, Day 9 of May.

Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.

Real time is: 19:10:39 MDT on Fri Mar 05 2010.

Western Edge of Mirkwood

Under the renewing eaves of Mirkwood, the late morning sky is shadowed a bit. The ground over the whole area is warm and muddy in the cool spring climate.

The edge of the foreboding forest continues on in a north-south orientation, but that is about all you can tell in the late morning sunlight.

Rain pelts down with furious anger from the skies above, drenching forest, travellers, and underbrush.

Contents:

Haldir

Obvious exits:

SouthEast, NorthEast, North, and South

[Haldir(#25231)]

Haldir\'s steps have taken him far and wide in this forest, from broken brush to vast, dead groves of oak and pine. As rain beats upon the ground this morning, he chooses a path near to the edge of Mirkwood, leaving nary a print upon the muddied grass. The angry drops fall upon his grey hood and slide off easily he is undrenched and wary, eyes flickering to either side of the road.

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

Over the pittering of the rain, there comes another noise. A distant \'thud\', \'thudding\' can be caught coming from somewhere a little deeper into the cover of the forest where the blanket of the dark canopy casts its gloom. A splintering sound accompanies each \'thud\', and...is that wheezy laughter?

[Haldir(#25231)]

The Elf frowns at the sound, for even in the greatest of thunderbolts the Lord of Wind does not laugh. Haldir\'s steps quicken, drawing near to a run, towards the \'thuds\'. Even now he may seem a shadow, gracefully passing briar and weed aside the road, but the splintering of Mirkwood forest is an unpleasant sound to marchwarden, and he reaches for longbow and shaft.

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

Just beyond, sheltered inside a thicker area of the tangled undergrowth, there is a handful of orcs. Axes they bear, and the cause of their deplorable laughing can be glimpsed: a ring of stumps surrounds this place, and currently the group is aiming the axe-heads at two pine trees.

At the rear of the forester orc assemblage, stands the Shaman Bagaglok, the red of his garb sticking sorely out from the dull muddied raiment of the others. He is observing, though an unpleasant amusement at the proceedings is evident upon his face.

[Haldir(#25231)]

The marchwarden draws to a halt near the newly-cut clearing, the expression on his face clearly stunned at the wreckage. For a deep breath he raises his gaze to the gaps in the canopy, whence rain falls indeed, it seems almost as if they mourn upon his stone-still face.

Then Haldir stretches arrow upon bowstring, his voice harsh and hate-edged as he calls out across the clearing: \"Hail, filth! What business have you in this wood still, that you must destroy it before you go?\"

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

At the sudden voice, many of the creatures startle, and one of them barely avoids slicing his own arm off with his axe. The offense against the trees is given pause, as the arrival of the bow-wielding Elf has claimed new attention. The smaller orcs peer over warily, but a few of the larger beasts grin all the more, shifting the weapons in their claws as they eye the marchwarden.

Being situated at the edge of the goblin party, Bagaglok is closest he gives an odd movement then, half seeming to scratch at a yet sore side. \"Another one?\" the robed uruk hisses disdainfully to himself. But raising his voice, he calls louder, \"Business? You wish to know our business here, do you? Not likely.\" And he snarls.

[Haldir(#25231)]

The marchwarden\'s eyes run over the clearing. \"I do not need to know your business,\" Haldir snaps coldly, his attention resting longer than is wont on the red-robed orc. \"Itching, are you? Your supervisor,\" he adds, releasing the tension on his bow and reaching lightly for a low branch, \"he was stung by a little knife. Does it hurt?\"

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

A corner of his mouth twitches in irritation, but the Malkog gives no comment save for a silent pointing of a long clawed finger. \"If you are the same albai fool who has been meddling with His servants recently...you must be spying. How many more of your accursed ilk are out there waiting for you to report all that you have seen?\" Bagaglok flashes Haldir a mocking fanged grin. \"I am afraid I must disappoint them, then...\"

With a lazy wave of a hand, he motions to the waiting foresters. \"Skin him? Or shall we see if he falls as easily as his beloved trees?\" A pair of larger orcs begin to advance toward the hooded Firstborn.

[Haldir(#25231)]

Haldir laughs as he pulls himself to stand upon the branch, about three feet from the ground -- a joyless, scathing sound. \"I am sorry to disappoint you, too,\" he answers the orc shaman, sighting swiftly down an arrow as he whips it back to brush his ear. \"You will find that I am bitter...\"

And he sets the shaft free, sending it at a considerable speed toward the rightmost of the big, burly orcs...

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

The speeding feathered dart pierces the frontmost uruk through the neck, and he collapses into the dirt and grass. His comrades do not even give him a glance as they trample over his unmoving form one of the foresters raises an axe, hurling it toward bough to sunder the Elf\'s perch.

From behind, the red-robed orc paces, and quickly he orders the remaining goblins to resume their tree-hacking. \"Finish the last two,\" he gestures to the old pines, \"while the light-lover is busy.\"

[Haldir(#25231)]

The marchwarden is not slow to follow the path of the thrown axe as the heavy iron blade crashes to the root of the branch, breaking it off, Haldir leaps to another -- this one a hair higher, a trifle thinner. \"I think not!\" the Elf calls, raising another arrow to his eyes.

But this one is aimed toward the red-robed orc a distance away, with whom he has had the most grievance, and the most business!

[Combat(#13388)] Haldir wields a longbow.

Haldir launches an arrow...

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

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

The second arrow strikes into the bark of a nearby tree, its wooden shaft still quivering. A snaga hesitates his hacking, only to receive a swift kick from his companion to continue their hurried work. When the Shaman looks back toward the spot where the larger orcs are in pursuit of the marchwarden, he chuckles, pointing again to the brittle needle like limbs at the top of the Elf\'s tree. \"Drive him higher!\" laughs Bagaglok. \"He will fall eventually. Cut it down.\"

And now the foresters bring their axes to bear against Haldir\'s chosen pine, while the others still continue striking at the last two in the clearing.

[Haldir(#25231)]

\"Tch,\" is all Haldir says, his eyes brimming with hatred for those who now hack at the wood of his own perch. Quickly he sends a dart down to hamper their efforts, though he is himself swaying under the impact to the tree. The few leaves left upon this wintering oak quiver, as if shuddering.

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

Hampered their efforts are -- though only for a moment. Focus and blades are brought back to felling that Elf-holding tree.

\"What\'s the matter?\" Bagaglok pauses in his pacing to watch, and he peers upward to spot the trembling oak and Haldir in its branches. \"Do you love your precious tree too much to depart from it? Well, then...\" a black claw fumbles for something in his robes. \"you wouldn\'t object to being pinned to it, eh?\" There is a glint of metal, and the orc steps forward to stand nigh the base of Haldir\'s trunk. The long dagger is fingered, ere it is thrown upward for the cowled grey figure on high.

COMBAT - Wielded: Sacrificial Dagger

Removed: Sacrificial Dagger.

[Combat(#13388)->Bagaglok]

You half-blindly throw your dagger at Haldir...

Your dagger flies wide of Haldir, doing no harm.

Your weapon lies now upon the ground at his feet.

[Haldir(#25231)]

But the wickedly thrown knife clatters against the trunk where Haldir\'s head once was the Elf bounces the branch up and down once \'ere leaping to another arm, this one on a different tree. \"I wouldn\'t mind,\" he says spitefully, \"but it seems your pins are lacking in efficacy ... hm?\"

The marchwarden steadies himself a moment on his new perch, tossing a derisive glance at the workers below his former tree -- but the next arrow that he fires is at the red-robed orc, again. After all, it is Bagaglok who is issuing orders, drafting workers and sparking chaos in general...

Haldir launches an arrow...

Ow! You\'ve been injured for 8 hp\'s by the bowshot.

ARB: Please RP this injury accordingly.

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

While his own pins indeed seem to be lacking...the marchwarden\'s however are not the cloaked uruk gives a yelping cry as the arrow slices along a leg, drawing black blood but failing to stick. Clutching at the wound, the Shaman snatches up the fallen dagger again, though it remains in his right hand for now. Instead, he turns toward the foresters, growling spitefully, \"Skai! Are you blind? The other tree, he\'s in the other tree.\" But then he grins through a half-snarl of pain. \"Forget felling it. Burn it down, set the rest of the trees on fire.\"

Toward Haldir\'s new perch the foresters move, one of them already stooping to gather broken branches and other sources for kindling. Back behind, there is a loud thundering crash as one of the pair of pines is cut through at last. Quickly, like ants, the smaller orcs work to tie ropes about it, to haul it home.

You pick up a Dagger.

[Haldir(#25231)]

The marchwarden sighs, shaking his head. \"If that is the case, then you shall have nothing to fell. And nothing to find. But remember this: I shall be watching you and your machinations, red filth. And perhaps, someday, you shall answer to the trees.\"

With that Haldir finds higher and higher branches, away from the commotion. And then he steps to another grove, walking as if upon ground, and is no longer in sight, nor is his voice heard.

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

Even as the Elf disappears, the last two pines in the clearing are upon the ground, and are dragged slowly off into the deeper gloom southward. The branch-holding orc stops along with the others as their prey vanishes, and he looks to the scarlet robed figure. \"Eh, he\'s right...fire\'ll make no more trees to fell.\"

\"We\'ve taken all we should require,\" replies Bagaglok, waving the worry off with the dagger-holding claw. \"Back,\" he continues simply, indicating where the smaller goblins have gone with their haul. \"Now to see about raft building before that wrecthed pointed-ear proves good on his promise and returns...\"

And southward too, they scamper. Perhaps they shall save the fire for another day.