Dinner, or Winner?

Eastern Edge of Mirkwood

The edge of the forest curves to the north east and south west here. The plains to the east are non descript, while the forest rests thick and impassible to the west. The air of autumn is chilly, and there is a small breeze shimmering at the leaves at the edge of the trees. The sun shines fully here, while the entrance to the comforting darkness of the forest to the west is defended by razor sharp thorn bushes which are as densely packed as the leaves on the trees.

The sounds of rain fills your ears as it falls about the trees and the lands around Mirkwood with a soft hiss of motion. The rain also drenches you, soaking you to the boan.

Contents:

Ceredir

Uruk Camp

Obvious exits:

SouthWest and NorthEast

[Ceredir(#1394)]

The Mordain camp this night is quiet, relatively speaking, as the army nurses its elf-inflicted wounds. Small campfires burn here and there, and a patrol guards the camp borders. Walking between these fires is, of all things, a human man, black cloak covering his form and two wicked looking long knives at his belt.

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

Around one of the flickering firepits perches one of the Orcs, oddly having chosen to neglect the nearby log instead Bagaglok has placed himself upon the stiff cold ground, and his red-cloaked form is stooped over, evidently occupied with something down below. Now and again a glint flashes in the orange light of the fire: a dagger can be seen between orcish claws as the shaman takes the point and drags it around in the dirt, tracing a curious looking pattern in the soil.

But then he stops abruptly, and growls as something blocks the illumination. Though his eyes are adapted to the night, the sudden changing of the brightness throws his picture into temporary confusion, and the dagger makes a stray mark. The yellow gaze rises to catch sight of the human--a strange presence among the rest of the camp indeed. But as the fire is hindered, so too does it strike against the man\'s wicked knives, and Bagaglok quickly decides not to speak any annoyance.

Thud, scrape, scrape: the dagger resumes its work, though the orc\'s eyes flit up now and again to the other.

COMBAT - Wielded: Dagger

[Ceredir(#1394)]

\"Thinking of a meal, snaga?\" the human sneers, hand already on the hilt of one of his knives. \"I\'d think twice if I were you.\"

[Combat(#13388)] Ceredir wields Dagger.

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

If there was a frown of irritation, it has now become more of an open-mouthed snarl the dagger ceases in its motions, and the blackened hand that grasps it clenches, causing faint grating noises as the claws shift along the hilt. \"Perhaps you humans are stupider than you look,\" comes the hiss of breath, and with a slightly pained bound, Bagaglok leaps to his feet. The other hand is cast beyond to the side, pointing. \"Snaga would be more appropriate for that one yonder, who toils under the firewood beneath the angry whips of his masters. But, don\'t worry--/he/ is not the hungry one here..\"

And as the human reaches for his blades, so too does the orc mirror the action, the claw still wrapped tightly around his own weapon.

[Ceredir(#1394)]

The human crooks a finger at the orc. \"Come here and say that, dog of an orc, and see just how long you live. Or maybe I\'ll just rearrange your face a little, eh?\"

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

A second growl answers, ere the goblin replies, \"So be it, but I shall ensure you lose a few of those fingers in the process. Crunchy, but we will see how sweet they taste.\"

The challenge to step closer is met, and Bagaglok takes a half-run, half-spring toward the man the short blade strikes outward for the human\'s left thigh as the creature aims low.

You half-blindly attack Ceredir with your Dagger...

Ceredir dodges your attack.

[Ceredir(#1394)]

A low hissing laugh escapes the human. He keeps his left foot forward until the last moment when he steps nimbly to the side and then slashes at the orc\'s shoulder instead. \"You\'ll make a good meal for some hungry snaga.\"

Ceredir attacks you with his Dagger!...

...and he hits! Ouch!

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

This time only silence answers as the orc clamps his fanged mouth shut against the sting of the knife in his upper shoulder. But the other\'s words do not seem to deter him yet, for Bagaglok begins to circle the potential morsel in front of him, and he brings the weapon stabbing upward, now higher toward the man\'s flank.

You half-blindly attack Ceredir with your Dagger...

Ceredir dodges your attack.

[Ceredir(#1394)]

Again the man twists out of the way, and this time he brings the knife down in a slashing motion toward the orc\'s face. \"Behave or I will take an eye next time. Think you a servant of the Eye not trained in steel?\"

Ceredir attacks you with his Dagger!...

...and he hits! Ouch!

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

\"I have only just managed to swipe a dagger for myself, and it is not easy to do such with the need for arms in the camp,\" says the orc, attempting to duck away, but the man\'s attack adds a new gash to accompany the one delt to the side of Bagaglok\'s face from the elf-king not long prior. There is a fresh hiss of pain following in the wake. \"A fortunate opportunity this is then, for me to find a meal, sport, and practice from you.\"

Switching to slowly circle the other way, the goblin lunges forward anew, the dagger tip seeking the same target as before, though now it is his foe\'s opposite side.

You attack Ceredir with your Dagger...

Ceredir dodges your attack.

[Ceredir(#1394)]

\"It\'s too bad I don\'t eat your filthy orc meat, for surely I\'d have a meal,\" the man snarls, laughing as he again easily veers out of the way of the attack. Another slash again, this time for the orc\'s weapon arm. \"But come...you bore me. You call this a real fight?\"

Ceredir attacks you with his Dagger!...

...and he hits! Ouch!

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

For a moment the shaman takes a pace backward, glaring and panting in a combination of pain and wrath after the human\'s knife fails to miss: his own blows aren\'t hitting due to his lack of experience with the darn short weapon--and the uruk knows it.

But clearly, his own pride is a more important thing in this situation, and so the orc resumes the sidestepping motion as his yellow eyes peer for another place to direct the dagger toward. \"If you hold still, surely then things will become of more interest to you, scum.\" And out lashes the weapon once more, still determined to connect with the man\'s lower leg.

You attack Ceredir with your Dagger...

Your attack against Ceredir lightly wounds him!

[Ceredir(#1394)]

\"Better,\" the man grunts as the knife hits at the guards on his lower legs. \"Maybe you won\'t shame the Eye after all. But I\'ll not be your dinner, either.\" A grimace and he slashes again at the orc\'s weapon hand.

Ceredir attacks you with his Dagger!...

...and he misses!

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

\"Ha!\" the creature manages a laugh as his opponent\'s strike finally cuts naught but thin air as the orc twists to the right. But then it is clouded a little by a frown. \"Fine, no meal tonight, but the loss is a pity. A bite then? One only?\" Bagaglok grins, a horrid sight with the protruding points of teeth. \"That leg looks tasty enough.\" A black tongue comes to lick at his lips, and the goblin shifts to flick the blade for that same limb evidently the temptation is too good to ignore. But clearly, Bagaglok is also tiring from the skirmish, not having fully healed from the elven wounds he was inflicted with.

You attack Ceredir with your Dagger...

Your attack against Ceredir mildly wounds him!

[Ceredir(#1394)]

The man steps back, orc blade ripping cloth but not spilling blood. \"I think not,\" he growls, still holding his blade out lest the beast attack again, but stepping away. \"That\'s enough play time for tonight. I\'ll not spill my blood here and have the whole pack of you on me.\" He turns to continue his way through the darkness, looking back to make sure no orcs follow.

[Bagaglok(#24847)]

And pursue they do not.

Disappointment is writ upon orcish features, but Bagaglok remains where he is standing, moving neither forward nor backward for an instant. The man\'s departure does not prevent him from throwing a hiss for farewell, however. A glance is cast to the dagger\'s bloodless blade, and the dark brow frowns again.

With a huff of foul breath, the shaman plops down again next to the design he had been creating in the dirt. Only the edges are a little marred by the short fight. There is a sigh as the orc begins to draw forth a bandage from his scarlet cloak to deal with the new rip on his shoulder which even now has started to spout black blood. \"Another day, human,\" is all Bagaglok mutters to himself. \"Another day.\"