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Author Topic: Southern Gate  (Read 15305 times)
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Galthas
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Dwarf, Mitharim


« Reply #30 on: August 18, 2009, 06:16:56 AM »

Galthas continued to move along, moving rather quickly, with the flood of other soldiers that were retreating to defensible parts of the city. He saw some carrying just their shields and swords or spears. Some were carrying supplies that had been stocked near the gate. Still others were carrying their wounded comrades that had fallen in battle alongside them.

He stopped when he saw the men that were carrying the man in battered colorful armor and a man walking alongside them with his head held down. He remembered this man, the one who had brought the prince and the other wounded man down off the wall. Galthas began to move toward him, because he had an idea.

"Oi, you," he yelled as he got within earshot of the sulking man near the ones carrying the wounded, "Tiberius, was it? I need ya to do somethin' for me."

"I saw ya back there, you know that this man... a prince, is he?... will not make it back ta the 'ospital in 'is condition, ya know that he needs help now."

Galthas then started to look around until he found a building that looked like it still had some people in it, for it had light filtering out through the windows. He moved now a bit closer to Tiberius to tell him the final bit of his plan.

"If ya'll move tha prince inta that house over there, then I can do some work on 'im ta get 'im back ta tha 'ospital. But he won' make it but a few more blocks in tha condition that he's in now."

The dwarf stepped back and waited for the man to think and reply. He'll do one of two things, Galthas thought, he'll either not trust me enough to operate on his prince, or he'll trust his judgement and won't move him back to the hospital in this terrible condition.
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« Reply #31 on: August 20, 2009, 01:49:33 AM »

Tiberius looked down at his Prince, back at the orc, and then at Traylon. "I do not know thy name healer, but my Prince needs attending to and though he is much less wounded than this man, Corporal Traylon, I will help you take them to that house so that you can use your skills as a healer to help them if you can."

Tiberius was only a private and there were others there who were corporals, but they seemed to let Tiberuis take charge. "Men, follow the healer to this house. Quickly now, before the orcs break through.

The men nodded wearily, picked up their wounded and nodded they were ready. Tiberius turned to the dwarf, "Lead on, we will follow," he said just as he heard Sgt Mallowart tell him to get the Prince to the hospital and get back there. Tiberius turned and shouted, "Sarge as soon as the healer says it is safe to move the Prince I will take him and our wounded to the hospital and return here."

Tiberius turned back and saw the healer and the men standing there. "Well, let's go," he said just as he heard the beam on the gate crack louder. He turned his head and saw that the beam was about to be broken through. "Run! Quickly, into that house, now!" 
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ghun
K'ahn'uck Ch'ron-P'thok K'arg
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Orc, Rhom-Oc


« Reply #32 on: August 20, 2009, 02:28:44 AM »

Ghun laid stoic on the frozen ground as the female healer worked on him; stitching up his wounds on his side with Warg gut. He winced only once when he lay down and the cold, icy ground acted liked an anesthic on the wound down his back. Then his mind took over and he was back at the battle. It had been very good! He had killed many of the human scum and when he came face to face with the one who had worn shiny armor the first time they met, he thanked his god; if it had not been for the intervention of another that human would have died today.

Then his god gave him another chance and this time Ghun thought for sure he was his, but the human was skilled with the sword he carried. He cut, slashed and then dodged out of the way of Ghun's club. Finally Ghun's god helped him and his club smashed into the man sending his crumpling to the ground. Ghun grinned as he thought he finally killed that one.

Human's were rushing to the man's rescue. He heard one call the man "The Prince" Ghun did not know what that meant but assumed he must have been important. It did not matter to Ghun, he killed them as they came but he forgot about his back, he thought he had killed those behind him, when he felt the pain down his back. He swung around, his club following, smashing into the brick wall, and Ghun's eyes widened in wonder as he noticed that it was the man they called the "Prince' attacking him. Ghun had not killed him. His god must be very angry at him. Ghun knew that he had no chance up there, so he fled once more.

Ghun slammed his fist hard into the frozen ground, making the ice covered tundra crack and the healer to jump. She had thought she had done something wrong. "Oh great Ghun, have I done something wrong?" she asked timidly.

Ghun turned his face toward her and shook his head no. "Are you done," he asked.

"Yes, but you should rest. You lost a lot of blood."

He sat up, and felt his head go strange, but the pain of his movement tore it away. He stood up and felt as if his world was spinning, but again the pain from the stitches made him focus. Pain is good, he thought.

Suddenly there were cries throughout the camp. "The gate, the gate is broken."

Ghun went to his tent's opening, opened the flap and looked toward the human's gate. The gate's door had been burned and splintered and had finally burst open. He saw his army rush into the city. He whistled, and Morg, his personal warg, came running to him. With a leap Ghun was on Morg's back yelling out a war cry swinging his club. A couple of his stitches had broke, and caused him pain; but he kept on saying to himself, Pain is good! But killing human scum is better!

Perhaps his god is giving him one more chance to kill that human, the Prince!
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Ch'ron-P'thok...all shall die!
Galthas
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« Reply #33 on: August 22, 2009, 01:30:18 PM »

Galthas ran into the house after the men that were carrying the wounded on litters. When he got inside he began to look around the main room. Soon enough, he found a large dining table, which he then tore the tablecloth with plates and utensils off of. Then he smoothed away all of the excess dirt that was on it and turned to the men carrying the injured.

"Lay 'em here," he said as he reached into his satchel and picked out a kit and unrolled it on the table. This revealed shiny metal instruments of all shapes and sizes, which were the things in Galthas's operation kit.

By this time, the men had already placed the Prince on the table in front of him. Galthas put on his glasses, which he got out of his pack, and began looking over the entire body to see all of the injuries. Some broken ribs, maybe a broken arm, it didn't look as bad as Galthas thought it had. The real danger, though, lay in the massive blow he had taken to the head. The Prince was wriggling a bit on the table, so Galthas brought out his drugging herb and placed it in the Prince's mouth. Then Galthas took the Prince's jaw in his hands and began to make the prince chew. In a few seconds, the Prince went slack in his hands and Galthas knew he was asleep.

Immediately, Galthas began his work. Without a word he examined the Prince's arm more closely. Finally, he came to the conclusion that it wasn't broken, just very badly bruised. Galthas took the Prince's arm in his hand and felt the empathatic magic flow from the dwarf to the human.

Then he moved on to the ribs. He poked and prodded the area with two fingers to see how it was broken. He could locate three of the broken ribs, and none of them were pointing inward, which was good. A fourth, however, he could not locate with his fingers. This either meant that he just wasn't looking good enough, which was unlikely, or that it had sunken deeper into the Prince's insides, whcih definitely was not good. This meant that it could pierce a lung at any time. Galthas bandaged the area tightly to make sure none of the ribs changed place.

Finally, he moved onto the more serious head injury. Galthas assumed that the prince had a concussion, which most definitely was not good. First, the dwarf took out a small brown herb from his pack and used forceps to stick it inside the wound. This would be used as an antibiotic to make sure that the area would not get infected. He bandaged the area to prevent massive bleeding and was then done with the head. Galthas checked to make sure that the Prince was still alive before double-checking his work.

The arm was already beginning to change color, which meant it was a success on that front. The ribs looked to be as good as they could be and the head was done excellently. Galthas took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes for a bit before stepping back to allow the men to move the prince and place the more injured man on the table. The other, minor scrapes and cuts of the Prince's could be dealt with at the hospital.

This man had very intense and extensive industries. Galthas began to operate on the man's chest, which had been smashed with, by the looks of it, and orc club. This was going to take some time, but the dedicated dwarven healer continued to work dilligently.
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« Reply #34 on: August 27, 2009, 02:36:01 AM »

Tiberius watched with interest and anxiety the dwarf healer as he worked on his Prince. Soon it was even obvious to him that the Prince was hurt but not as badly as corporal Traylon. As soon as the healer finished with the prince, Tiberius asked some to help him carry the Prince to the hospital when the door burst open, a young man fell to his knees, he had cuts, some severe and deep across his arms, chest and legs. "Orc's...Orcs are everywhere," he gasped. "Run, run for your lives..." He collapsed face down. One of the soldiers went to him, knelt down and felt his throat, he looked up at Tiberius and the rest and slowly nodded his head, no. The young man had died.

Suddenly there came a scream from above Tiberius. Tiberius looked up and saw several women, scantily clad, one was pointing at the door. Tiberius turned just in time to see several orcs bursting into the house. The soldier that had been kneeling, quickly drew his sword and pierced one but was quickly overwhelmed.

In one rush the rest of the soldiers with Tiberius leading attacked and killed the intruders to close the door.

Tiberius turned scanning the room. There were many heavy wooden bookcases filled with all sorts of things. "Quick, we need to protect this door and any windows that may be loose," he said. Several men understanding what Tiberius wanted dragged the bookcase and placed it against the door. Others went up stairs, past the frightened women, and checked on the upper floor windows. Tiberius swept a glance over at the healer who was continuing to work on Traylon. "Healer, we may be in for a siege. I hope you have enough supplies, you may need more if this gets any worse," he said as he headed toward the stairs.

A well built woman was standing on the stairs as Tiberius climbed them, the young girls huddled around and near her. "Ma'am I want you and your daughters to go to your rooms, lock your doors and stay there. My men are making sure your windows are securely locked and blocked so that you will be safe from any intruders. If you or your daughters hear any pounding on your windows come and get us immediately," he said, "now if you will excuse me."

"Young man, my name is Esmeralda and these are not my daughters but my employees," she said.

Tiberius looked at the young ladies and Esmeralda and he blushed as he realized where they were. Some of the girls, a very young, fair haired, blue honey-eyed smiled at him and he felt himself blush even more. He brushed past them. "Please do as I ask. It may save your lives," Tiberius said.

Tiberius climbed to the top of the stairs met the men who were already up there. "Do you know where we are?" Tiberius asked.

One of the older men laughed, "Yep, were at Esmeralda's. I have visited this place quite often. The delicacies offered here are quite something."

Tiberius could feel himself beginning to blush. "Well make sure they are safe," Tiberius said, "and did any of you see whether there is an attic or something in this place.

"I'm not sure about an attic, but I think there is a crawl space. I will show it to you," a soldier offered.

"Lead on," Tiberius said.

The crawl space was just big enough to allow a slight, small man to crawl through the openings of the beams of wood between the ceiling and the roof of the house.  It was cold up here but it gave Tiberius a great view of the city streets, their houses, the gate and the army below, as well as the enemy.

Sgt. Mallowart and his men were fending off the orcish hordes that had poured through the city. The twang of bow and swishing of arrows could be heard as the archers let loose their deadly weapons. From Tiberius's vantage point he saw whole lines of orcs fall dead in their tracks but others kept on coming, trampling over their dead, and attacking anything and everything.  Tiberius could see by the torch light little green bodies climb on to the houses and for those unsuspecting people, the orcs got in and Tiberius could hear screams.

Then he heard a war cry and twisted his head toward the gate. Through the smoke and fire came a large orc with one arm riding a warg, swinging his huge spiked club. He headed straight for Sgt. Mallowart.

Tiberius cursed. He knew that orc. He wanted to be out there with the Sarge, but knew his place was here protecting the Prince, as well as these ladies. He crawled back down and told the men what was happening.

"We need to go help them," one said and the rest agreed.

"I would love to be out there killing orcs, but we need to protect the Prince, our wounded, and these ladies," Tiberius reminded them.

There was some grumbling, but the men assented, even as the screams of those being butchered by the horde could be heard even through the thick walls and barred windows.
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Galthas
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« Reply #35 on: August 28, 2009, 08:51:26 AM »

Galthas was just finishing up operating on the severely wounded man when all of the shouting and running happened. A few of the soldiers brust past him as they went toward the door.

"What in Trum-Baroll's name is going.." Galthas couldn't even finish his sentence as he looked up to see about five green orcs burst into the house. Then the soldiers cut them down, swift as lightning, but there were two dead humans laying on the ground after the door had been closed.

The soldiers began to bar the door and windows with any piece of heavy furniture in the house, and Galthas noticed in the corner of his eye a few almost-naked women standing in the stairway. He blushed but ignored them, looking back down at his patient. Quickly, he sewed up his last wound and turned to try to find the man that was leading these men.

"Um, does anyone know where Tiberius is?" he asked to the people in the room. One of the soldiers pointed up the stairs, and Galthas began to climb, past the naked women, and he overheard enough of some men's conversation to realize that the house they were in was a base for prostitution in Remusiat.

This caused him to blush more, and he was already a bit red from the exertion of climbing human stairs. When he got up to the second floor he recognized Tiberius telling his men that they needed to hole up here.

"Sorry ta interrupt, but that may not be an option," Galthas said as he walked over to Tiberius. "Tha only supplies that I carry in ma satchel are those for medical purposes, not food. And... um... unless these girls live here, I don' think it would have a fully stocked kitchen."

He stood next to Tiberius, looking up at him, as he waited on him to respond. Then, suddenly, he realized that he desperately missed his cat, Almond, whom he had left at the hospital with a soldier while he went to operate on the burned men at the gate. He began to cry silently, even though he had thought he had no tears left to shed after seeing the mauled men at the gate.
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« Reply #36 on: August 29, 2009, 02:10:50 AM »

Esmerelda was forty-ish, dark haired, with wisps of grey, small brown eyes, wore a bit too much make up, and liked to wear pastel dresses, tonight she was wearing a light green one. She was eyeing the young man who seemed to be in charge and wondered why someone so young was in charge?  Then she heard the word Prince and her curiosity rose a notch or two as well as her pride. She had the Prince of Remusiat under her roof. What a coup! What she could use that information for? The orcs outside did not scare her much, she had lived through many an orc attack against the city and the army always saved them; however to her recollection, she had did not remember any that actually got into the city. Perhaps it was good that the Prince and his men were here besides the usual benefits.

She was hustling the girls to their rooms when a dwarf, a bit out of breath, came up the stairs and talked to the boy, Tiberius. She listened in on the conversation, as all good madam's do.

"No need t' worry 'bout t'at hon," she said to the dwarf, smiling at him with yellowed tainted teeth. "Tis here place is mine, it is and we 'ave a full kitch'n as well as drink" She winked at him, "Tis a full service place we 'ave 'ere, we 'ave. If'n ye know what I mean," she ended with a nod toward the girls who seductively played with their loose clothing, showing off their goods and batting their eyes demurely.

Tiberius was very uncomfortable with the suggestions that Esmeralda was implying, but several of the older men were becoming very interested. "We have an army of orc's outside just waiting and drooling at the chance to get in here, murder us men, rape you women and then kill you or perhaps worse and you talk like this! You are one crazy lady," Tiberius said as he began to walk down the stairs, "Well healer I think you got your answer and you men, get your minds off of the women and on your jobs...now!"

Tiberius stomped down the stairs. He did not know who he was more angry at, Esmerelda, her whores, the men or himself. 

Esmerelda huffed, and was about to tell that young whipper-snapper where he can go when she thought about what he said. "Girls, perhaps tis best we let these g'emltm go 'bout their 'isness and we...hide!" her last words were a scream, a soldier turned and his skull was crushed in, by an orc's hammer. The other soldiers made quick work of him, but more were coming down the hallway. "Orc's are in the building," one shouted as he and the others began fighting the horde that streamed in.

Tiberius ordered three men to guard the Prince and then he and the rest of the men rushed up the stairs to help. He passed the dwarf, "Healer, get yourself downstairs and prepare for more wounded."

Tiberius rushed past him as did the other men and then Tiberius turned, "I did not seem to make it like it was an order healer, it is just I believe besides the Prince, you are the most valuable person here. For if we have wounded, only you can heal them."

Tiberius looked at the frightened women who cowered in a corner of the stairs. "You," he ordered Esmerelda, "take your girls and if there is a cellar hide in there until one of us comes and get you,"

Esmerelda seemed frozen to her spot. Her eyes were wide with horror. Her green dress was splattered red with blood. Tiberius shook her. "Esmerelda, did you hear me?" he shouted. "Get your girls to safety, now!"

Esmerelda nodded and then mechanically began shoving the girls down the stairs. Tiberius turned, with sword drawn and waded into the fray.

What seemed liked hours, but was just a few moments of time, Tiberius and his men had fought back the horde that had come through a window in one of the girls rooms. Tiberius whirled around, "I thought I ordered all of the windows to be locked and barred," he shouted.

"We did," a soldier answered. "I personally locked and barred this one myself."

"Then how in Ko'rach's name did..."

"I opened the window," a small girlish voice answered crawling from under the bed in the room. "It was just so stuffy, and I only opened it up just a crack," she began to cry..."I...I did not mean..."

Tiberius realized she was just a child. No more than perhaps seven maybe eight years of age. She had dirty blonde hair, a smudged grey smock that barely covered down to her knobby knees. "It is ok. Stop crying. Who are you and why are you here?" he asked.

She looked up into Tiberius's face with large round blue eyes that melted Tiberius's heart. surely she is not one of Esmerelda's.... He could not even think the word, much less... he thought.

"I am Heather. I be a kitc'en maid. Tis Gretch's room. She let's me come up 'ere to s'eep, better than the cellar," she said.

Tiberius let out a sigh of relief. She was not a... "Heather, Esmerelda and the girls are in the cellar now. One of my men will take you to them. There you will be safe with them."

One of the men took the little girl's hand and began to lead her away. She looked back at Tiberius with those sad blue eyes of hers, tears coming once again. "Do...do ye promise?" she asked.

Tiberius glanced around at the men in the room and then back at the little girl. There was something about her. Her innocence in a place like this that Tiberius knew that unless he was dead he would protect her. "Yes, Heather. I promise. Now go with the nice man," he said, trying to stop the tears he felt coming.

"I...I believe you, Tib'er's," she said quietly as the soldier led her away.

Tiberius and the soldier gave each other a look that said the same thing...they would give their lives for this little girl, just as much as they would the Prince.

Heather left and Tiberius watched over the repairs to the window before they left. "Tiberius, we only had a couple of wounded that we sent down to the healer, but what should we do with the dead?"

Tiberius knew that eventually the dead bodies would bloat and perhaps burst and bring disease as well as smell up the house. The best thing would be to bury them, but where?

"We could put them out the back door," a soldier suggested.

Tiberius turned on the soldier, "And have those animals eat them! How would you like to be thrown to them?"

The other soldier shrank. Another one touched Tiberius's shoulder, who turned and looked into a grizzled, wrinkled face with sgt stripes on his uniform. Tiberius looked around and realized that most of these men were corporals or sgt's and here he was a lowly private ordering these men around. "Sarge, I apologize. I did not mean..."

"No need to son. We all recognize a leader when we see one. However you are a bit inexperienced and what Mathias had suggested, though not easy to take or understand, is the best solution. We cannot have dead bodies in here. Ask the dwarf, I believe he will tell you the same."

Tiberius thought about what the old sgt. had said. "I will make my decision after speaking with the healer," Tiberius said. "In the meantime put them in here," Tiberius said as he walked out of the room.

The men all nodded their heads and carried in the dead, closed the door behind them and then posting guard in the hallway the rest followed Tiberius downstairs.

Tiberius found the healer healing some slight cuts and bruises on some of the men. "Healer," Tiberius said. "I need to ask you a question."
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Galthas
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« Reply #37 on: September 01, 2009, 07:21:29 AM »

Galthas was working on some minor cuts and bruises on one of the soldiers when Esmerelda led a few of her girls into the house's cellar. Before they were all into the cellar, Galthas said to one of them, "Oi, you there, would ya be a dear and run into tha kitchen and get me some ale?"

She turned and looked at him for a short time before he added, "Aw, ya'll be fine, it'll only take a few seconds."

Soon, she scurried off to the kitchen. Not long after that, Tiberius came down the steps and came over to Galthas. "Healer, I need to ask you a question."

He asked Galthas about the dead while Galthas was looking down at his newest patient. "Tha dead must go out tha door, that seargent was right, the last thing we need in here right now is disease."

Galthas saw Tiberius's face fall as he turned around slowly. Galthas let out an internal sigh and hopped down off of the footstool he had been standing on while operating on the wounded men.

"I know ya think 'tis a disservice, throwin' these men out tha back like some kinda trash, but tha situation's dire, and drastic circumstances call for drastic measures. If things were differ'nt and there wasn't a horde of bloodthirsty orcs about ta come in any minute, then I would agree with ya. If I were you, I'd make sure there's no orcs about ta ambush yer men as they open the door, and lay the bodies outside. If there's time after tha battle, we can bury them then."

Then, the girl that Galthas had sent to get his ale came back into the room, walking as quickly as she could without spilling the ale. She handed it to him quickly and then ran quickly into the cellar. Galthas quickly downed the ale and jumped back up on his footstool, as there was now a new patient for him to heal, this one damaged more badly than the others.

Before Tiberius went up the stairs, he yelled out to him, "Oh, and Tiberius, ya know we can't stay here long, once the whole horde knows we're hiding in here, these few men ya've got won't be able to hold them off. The orcs could just use somethin' ta bash a wall in."
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« Reply #38 on: September 03, 2009, 04:25:54 AM »

Lyle Vorach was working pounding hot metal into a shape that would eventually become a sword.  Five generations had worked this forge and had grown families and sons that took over the business and even some sons had taken their families and had moved farther westward and began their own business in towns and villages along the way.

Lyle's wife, Glyn, their two daughters, Beryl and Coral, and his only son, Lyle Jr. were upstairs from the business. Glyn was preparing supper and Lyle had worked hard all day, a row of freshly constructed swords hung on a rack points downward. He was looking forward to finishing this last one, shutting down the forge for the night and being with his family; besides he was awfully hungry and was wondering what Glyn would serve tonight.

The war against the orcs had made him work faster and longer than he usually did, but he and his family prided themselves on their craftsmanship and their closeness with the Royal family, which also meant that the Remusiat army ordered his weapons and tools, which in turn kept his family financially well off.

Lyle had no doubt that the city walls and its army would keep the orcs out. How many times before had their been attacks by those green devils and the Remusiat army easily defeated them. His forge faced the smaller of the two gates that allowed people into the city.  His family had built it near the Southern Gate so that when weary travelers entered and needed a horse shooed, or a farmer would come in and need his tools sharpened; theirs would be the first black shop they would see.

The sudden light coming from the gate made Lyle raise his head and look toward that direction, wiping sweat from off his brow. "By Kor'och!" he whispered under his breath, "the gate was on fire!"  He shouted, "The gate, the gate is on fire," as he rushed toward the gate, grabbing buckets as he went to fill them up in the well that stood farther away, near the center of the old part of the city.

He was joined by dozens of other men carrying buckets as well, who quickly made a line toward the gate, filling up the buckets with water, passing down from man to man to pour on the fire. Lyle was rushing toward the gate when he heard Sgt. Mallowart, a dear friend of his, yell "Retreat...Regroup"

Lyle stopped dead in his tracks as he heard the booming sound outside the gate and in horror saw the heavy cross-beam that held the gate closed...crack.  He could not believe his eyes. He did not think that there was anything that could crack that beam.  He stood there as he watched the soldiers find a place in which to make a stand. He heard Sgt. Mallowart yell again, "Archers ready"

Lyle heard an awful groaning and then a large "craack!" He watched, mesmerized, as the cross beam split wider and suddenly snap. The gate burst open and green bodies brandishing spears, clubs and some rusty swords poured through the opening like a green river. He heard Sgt. Mallowart yell, "Archers loose" and heard the twang of many bows and saw the arrows fall upon the green horde cutting them down as they continued on.

His senses came to him and he began to run back toward his forge and his family. He had to protect his family.  He reached his forge, grabbed his huge hammer, turned around and was astonished at seeing a large wolf-like creature bearing down upon him, its fangs were dripping blood and on top of it rode a large heavy muscled, one armed, yellow eyed, green orc swinging a very large spiked club.  Lyle ducked as the beast and the orc rushed past him into his forge, the beast swung around, wildly as the orc on top of it madly yelled a cry that sent shivers down Lyle's back.

Lyle was a big man and very heavily muscled. He turned to face his enemy who glared at him with hatred in his yellow eyes. Lyle swung his hammer with one arm, then switched the heavy hammer to the other hand and arm as easily as one would a stick of wood. "Come on you green skinned devil. I am ready for you," he yelled.

The orc kicked the wolf liked creature in its flanks and rushed forward. Lyle again dodged out of the way, but swung his hammer at the beast as it rushed past him. The hammer caught the beast in its left flank. Lyle heard the breaking of bone as the creature roared in pain, fell, spilling its rider on the street outside of the forge.  The creature's left femur was broken and it could not get back up. Lyle grinned in satisfaction, but his grin was quickly wiped off his face as he suddenly had to protect himself from the orc who swung his club at him: trying to crush Lyle's head in.

Lyle swept backwards, ducking, but it was not far enough as the spikes on the club raked across his right shoulder, tearing into his tunic and flesh. Lyle was spun around by the blow, but he struck back; his hammer slamming into the orc's unprotected left side. He felt the hammer smash into muscle and bone. The orc stood up to its full height, which was no taller than Lyle's belt buckle, roared in pain and swung his club. Again Lyle dodged, but the orc was quick and knew how to handle its weapon well. It feinted a blow to Lyle's right side, which brought up Lyle's hammer, but the orc then quickly changed his clubs direction and swung at Lyle's left side.

Lyle jumped back, but the club's spikes raked across Lyle's chest, tearing his tunic off of him along with strips of flesh.  Lyle felt pain like he had never felt before. He looked down at his chest and saw blood streaming down it. He screamed and rushed the orc swinging his heavy hammer, left, right, left right, pushing the orc farther into the street as it defended itself from Lyle's rage and hammer. The hammer landing glancing blows on the orc's forearm and its unprotected left side as the orc blocked blow after blow and then it swung its club and crushed Lyle's right leg.

Lyle went down like a stone. He dropped his hammer as he fell. His last thoughts as he saw the spiked club heading for his head was of his family...

***********************************************************************************

Tiberius watched it all like a surreal dream from his hiding place in the crawl space of the house where he, five wounded men, two of which could still fight, and four healthy men besides himself holed up protecting five women, one little girl, and the Prince of Remusiat.  He wanted to scream at the orc who was now bashing in its warg's head.  The screams coming from the blacksmith's house were unbearable as hordes of orcs swarmed the building, climbed up, breaking through the windows and went inside.

Tiberius wanted to rush out and save those people but he could not. He knew that if he or his men opened up the front door they would be swarmed as well and the Prince was their first priority over anything or anyone else. That is why he consented to have the dead thrown out the back door.

He first he had the men take the dead orc's bodies and in the dark alleyway behind the house, which seemed relatively safe and had no orc's in sight, carry the bodies to the end of the alley and throw them out into other streets; then he had their dead placed on top one of another outside of the backdoor, against the wall of an opposite building's back, covered the bodies with old blankets and then came back into the house, bolting and guarding the door until Mathias came back from his scouting mission.

Galthas, as Tiberius had finally found out, was not only a healer but wise in the way of warfare. Tiberius supposed it was because his kind and orcs had been and will always be mortal enemies and they had many a battle between them.  His suggestion or warning, depending upon how you looked at it, was the reasons behind the throwing of the dead orc's bodies as far as they could from this building they were in and why Mathias was sent on a scouting mission to see what the situation was and to see if it was possible to get reinforcements.

Tiberius crawled down out of crawlspace, met Sgt. Jovoch, Nathan, or Nate as he told Tiberius earlier that night. Tiberius's eyes were haunted by what he had just seen as he faced the grizzled old sergeant.

Nate had seen that look many times before. "How's it lookin' Tiberius? he asked.

Tiberius shook his head. "Not good. Orcs are everywhere. I think Sgt. Mallowart's men are still fighting and every once in awhile I hear the twang of a bow. So we are fighting back, I am just wondering when reinforcements are going to arrive, if they can..."

"Don't you lose hope," Nate whispered harshly into Tiberiusu's ear. "The men hear you talk like that and you will have trouble on your hands."

Tiberius stepped back and stared at Nate. " I just saw one of the army's best friend head bashed in by a one armed...by Kor'och's arm! I know that orc. He is the same one that attacked Traylon and the Prince on the wall."

"You mean that crazy yellow-eyed one armed devil that swung a mean lookin' spiked club?" Nate asked.

"That's the one. He was riding a warg. The blacksmith at least put that horror down before he died," Tiberius answered.

Nate turned toward the outside wall as if he could see through it. "It was Lyle, Lyle Voroch that you saw just die Tiberius?"

"Yes, it was."

"And his family?" Nate asked softly.

Tiberius could still hear the screams of Lyle's family in his head. "They...they are... dead."

Nate pounded the wall with his fists until they began to bleed and Tiberius had to hold him as the old sarge sobbed. "My son was to marry Beryl, or Berry as most knew her next month."

Tiberius did not know what to say to ease the man's grief. "I'm so sorry Nate," he finally said.

Nate pulled away from Tiberius, wiped his eyes, clapped Tiberius on the shoulder, "We should go downstairs and tell the others what is happening outside and hope that Mathias brings us back good news." Nate began walked out of the room and down the hallway.

Tiberius paused, looked at the wall where flecks of Nate's blood were impaled in the wood. "You're time will come orc...of that I promise." Tiberius said softly and then followed Nate.

He went downstairs, told the men and Galthas the situation outside, but did not mention anything about Lyle and his family, though he was sure some of the men had heard the screams and had already guessed.

"Galthas, how is everything going? Are you running out of anything? Do we need to do something to help the injured better? What about the Prince? Is he going to survive?" Tiberius asked, though he knew most of the answers, or at least thought he knew, he asked them to just keep his mind off of the horror he had witnessed and could not imagine what would happen if the orcs found them and the women hiding in the cellar...especially Heather.
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Galthas
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« Reply #39 on: September 07, 2009, 08:59:54 AM »

Galthas was still operating on some of the wounded men that had been injured while defending the house. One of them had lost an arm, it was too crushed by the orc club, one just had a concussion and would be fine after a while, and one... one didn't make it. His head had been bashed too hard by a club and one of the free soldiers was carrying him out the back door with the rest of the human dead.

Galthas heard a thump come from above him and prayed to Trum-Baroll that it wasn't more orcs. Orcs, the tired dwarf thought, orcs is a word that I hope I'll never have to say again in the rest of my days after this is over. Suddenly, Tiberius came down the stairs quickly and whipped to looki at Galthas.


"Galthas, how is everything going? Are you running out of anything? Do we need to do something to help the injured better? What about the Prince? Is he going to survive?"

Galthas looked at the worried look on his face for a while before answering, "Even if ev'ry person in this house got hurt, I'd still 'ave enough ta treat all of us. As for helping the injured, we're doing everything we can right now. What we could do ta really help 'em would be ta get 'em ta a hospital. And the Prince.. If I had ta guess, I'd say that tha Prince's got about a 60/40 shot of either makin' a quick, and full recovery, or dyin'. All accounting fer if that rib fragment pierces his lung or not.

Galthas looked out an exposed place in a boarded-up window and saw an orc slaughter an innocent citizen. "Well," Galthas said sarcastically, "it looks like yer sergeant's doin' a bang-up job out there."

Then, Galthas felt a sudden and incredibly sharp since of worry for Almond, and hoped he had given her to be protected by a competent shoulder.
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A person who is not willing to give assistance should not ask for it.
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« Reply #40 on: September 21, 2009, 06:42:39 AM »



The world had turned in on him.  He had taken time away from the southern gate in order to rest and get a quick meal, and now as he returned with a squad of men, he had heard the news that the gate had fallen.  Jahzhur Zekarsis-eck-Kor'och could not believe it.  How had this happened?  This was his command, so it would be seen as his failure.  His dishonour.  Nothing could make up for that.  But, if need be he would give up his life in order to ensure the retaking of the gate.

As he and his men worked their way up one snow covered street, a group of men were coming back from the sounds of battle in the distance.  These men were tattered, bloody and demoralized.  Their feet dragged as they approached Jahzhur.  The leader of the men stopped in front of Jahzhur. 

"What is the situation?"  Jahzhur demanded.

"Orsah-Dragguer.  We have lost the southern gate.  Orcs are pressing the mouths of several streets.  We lost our position on this one.  I have a small contingent holding back the orcs while we make our retreat."

"Dammit!" Jahzhur swore, looking up the street.  He then glanced about the area where they were gathered.  An idea was forming in his head.  "Send a runner back to your men.  Tell them to fall into a full retreat and hurry back down this street."

"Orsah?"

"When the orcs give chase, which they will if the retreat looks like the soldiers have fallen apart, we will be waiting here.  I want half of your men to form a position on the street, about 100 peds behind me.  The other half, I want gathered in that alley on the north side of the street, and I'll take my men into the alley on the south side of the street.  When the orcs engage the first group on the street, they will be in a position to be surrounded by our men in the alleys.  We can then crush them."

The soldier lit up as the plan dawned on him.  "Very good, Orsah.  I'll send someone right away."

Jahzhur turned to his men, ordering them into the alley and to prepare for battle.  This was to be the turning point.  He hefted his spear and took a deep breath.  Kor'och guide them.
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« Reply #41 on: September 30, 2009, 04:19:28 AM »

Mathias

Corporal Mathias quickly pushed himself against the shadows of a wall of a building as a number of orcs rushed past him. That was close, he thought. He had counted at least one hundred or more of those green skinned devils, though he had to admit that his count could be off since he could not distinguish one orc from another except the one armed one who he had lost sight of as they were both going into different directions. The one armed one was riding a fierce beast called a warg. Mathias had killed only of those wild wolf like beasts in his lifetime and never wanted to come across another again.

The orcs passed and Mathias continued his stealthy way toward the inner part of the city and hopefully find some help. He had seen Sgt. Mallowart's men make their stand and was continuing the battle, but slowly and surely he and the men were being pushed back as more and more orcs poured through the breach in gate.

Suddenly he stopped as he heard footsteps coming closer to where he was hiding. He slowly, carefully and as quietly as he could drew his sword from its scabbord hanging from his hip.  He could see shadows now on the snow heading toward him. He raised his sword over his head in a two handed grip. As soon as the first green head appeared he planned on having it lose its body as quick as he could swing.

The shadows came closer...closer...almost there, Mathias thought, as the head suddenly appeared. Mathias swung-oh no! his mind screamed at him as he realized that the head was not an orc head but human. With superior skill he twisted and turned the blade so that it swept past the man's head by a mere nailsbreadth.

The sword crashed into the snow, showering the man and Mathias with splinters of ice and snow. Immediately another man showed himself brandishing his weapon. He was bloodied, and his clothes were torn but he stood there ready to fight.

Mathias sheepishly grinned. "Sorry, thought you were orcs," he said.

The man lowered his sword and looked at the man that Mathias almost cut his head off. Mathias looked as well and saw about twenty or so men: all of them wounded, their eyes told the story. "We are heading for the hospital," the soldier finally answered after he had given a once over at his companion. "You are welcome to come along. We need some stronger bodies to hold up the more wounded."

Mathias thought about his mission, but he could not let these men just go on. His concious would not allow him. What would happen if they met a horde of orcs, there were some men who could fight, but most would fall in their tracks. No, he needed to help them and then find someone else to tell his story to.

"Gladly, always good to have one more along in case we do run into some orcs," Mathias said as he put one arm under a soldier who he had seen was limping badly because of a huge gash in his right thigh: a blood soaked cloth covered the wound. "My name is Mathias, Corporal Mathias Horaxh," Mathias said as the group began its slow shuffle up the frozen street.

"Corporal Georgy, at your service," the soldier replied.

"Were you at the gate?" Mathias asked.

The man nodded. "We all were. Sgt. Mallowart's men."

Mathias did not think that Georgiy needed to know about the prince or the others as it would just put more pressure on him and the other men. "I was up on the wall when I was ordered down. I got lost from my unit when the orcs breached the wall and the gate. I have been trying ever since to find some help," Mathias said.

Georgy gave Mathias a disapproving look. He thinks I am a coward, thought Mathias. "You could have joined Sgt. Mallowart and us and fought. Instead you ran pretending to search for help. Perhaps you should leave," Georgy threatened.

Mathias could have argued, could have told this man his true mission but decided they and Georgy would not believe him even if he did tell them. He slowly took his arm from underneath the wounded man he had been carrying and another took his place, staring at him with hatred in his eyes. Mathias slowly backed away from them, again finding the shadows of buildings and watched them go forward.


Mathias waited a long time before he began to stealthily follow the wounded soldiers. Keeping as close as he could to the sides of the buildings, blending into the shadows, crossing the street only where it was dark and safe enough to do he kept a watch on the soldiers. He was crouched against a wall just barely seeing the shadows of the soldiers at the rear end of the men he was following when he heard a shout.

Mathias thought it was orcs and ran as quickly as he could drawing his sword as he ran. He turned the corner and skidded to a halt. He could not believe his eyes. It was Captain Jazhur and a squad of heavily armed men. He almost laughed with joy. This man would listen to him and would help him save the Prince and the rest of the men and women in the house near the gate.  Mathias began pushing his way forward when he heard the Lt. give the order to have a runner go and get men it seemed that the Captain was going to make a stand here against the orcs.

Mathias's joy left him. His face became sullen. Would the Captan give him some men to rescue those he left behind now? he thought. "Only one way to find out," he whispered as he made his way to the Lt.

Finally Mathias was near enough to the Captain. "Orsah Captain Jahzhur Zekarisis-eck-Kor'och," Mathias yelled and then he kneeled down, raising his head he continued on. "Sir, I need to speak to you desperately about a certain matter which should be for your ears only."

"Do not trust this man, Captain. He is a coward and possibly a traitor," he heard a familiar voice say.

Mathias quickly rose. "I am no coward and no traitor. I am on a most dangerous mission and I need to speak with you, Sir," Mathias retorted, staring into the Captain's eyes wondering what the man's reply would be.
« Last Edit: October 01, 2009, 03:52:01 AM by Capher » Logged
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« Reply #42 on: October 15, 2009, 11:21:22 AM »



Jahzhur steadied his men, feeling the bottom of his belly begin to knot up, as it always did before a battle.  If his did thus, then he could well imagine the younger men would be doing the same.  "Steady, men.  Kor'och watches us.  He guides our spears.  He defends us against our enemies."

A stranger pushed forward through the group and approached Jahzhur, and began to speak.  Though the man called Jahzhur by name, he didn't recognize the man.  Still, he listened until the man finished requesting a private conversation.  Jahzhur's brow furrowed.  This was not the time for this, but before he could respond, another voice decried the first man, calling him a coward and traitor.  This was rebuked by the first man.  There was something amiss here.  But... the timing was bad.

"What is going on here?  I don't have time for a private conversation.  I'm expecting orcs down this street in a moment.  Speak man!"
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« Reply #43 on: October 15, 2009, 03:16:19 PM »



Blood.  Pain.  Blood and pain.  Only these sensations seemed to assail Mallowart as he desperately tried to fend off attack after attack from orcs.  There were so many of them, and his defenses were broken up into separate streets, creating disorganized pockets of resistance.  They needed desperately to get a grip on this, and quickly.  They needed to regroup and plan a counter attack.

That, however, was the larger plan.  In the immediacy, he needed to get his men safely off this street.  He had sent most of his troops back, carrying the wounded, while he and his best men had stayed, holding off the orcs.  He would not be able to keep this up much longer, he knew.   His men were tired; they were disheartened; they were wounded.  Time was as much the enemy as were the orcs at this point.  A controlled retreat was what they were doing.  He had to buy as much time for the wounded to make their escape as he could purchase.

"Wyshnir-eck-E’shov!"

Mallowart heard someone calling out to him, and quickly glanced back toward where the voice came from.  He could not distinguish who it was that called to him however.

"Wyshnir-eck-E’shov!"

When it was safe, Mallowart stepped back from the battle and turned towards the voice.  "What is it?"  he recognized the man as one of the soldiers he sent to escape.  A cold feeling went through him.  What had happened?  Had they met with orcs at the other end of the street?  Were they trapped?

"Orsah-Dragguer Jahzhur has sent me to bring you back.  You and the men are to retreat immediately."

Retreat?  What had happened?  Was there another breach in the wall?  "Are the wounded safe?"

The messenger nodded confirmation.  "Yes.  The Orsah-Dragguer has men waiting.  He wants to draw the orcs in."

A light of recognition lit up in Mallowart's eyes.  He understood now, and a grim smile came over him.  He turned back to his fighting men.  "Retreat!  All of you!  Retreat!  Teams of 5 cover our rear, and switch up every 10 peds."  He looked back to the messenger.  "Go!  Alert the Dragguer we are on our way."
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"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
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My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
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« Reply #44 on: October 16, 2009, 01:34:55 AM »

Mathias's eyes pleaded with Jazhur. He could see the indecision on the man's face and did not know whether it was because of what Corporal Georgy had said or because it interrupted the Dragguer's plans for the orcs. Suddenly Jazhur yelled out, "What is going on here?  I don't have time for a private conversation.  I'm expecting orcs down this street in a moment.  Speak man!

Mathias looked around quickly trying to make up his mind whether or not he should tell such privileged information outloud, but he had no time and the Dragguer was giving him no choice. "I come from Esmerelda's house of pleasure near the gate but off of the main street where I and several others including a dwarven healer are protecting the women, a small girl and..."

Mathias's eyes dashed around at the faces staring at him and then rested once again on the Dragguer. "And the Prince. He is wounded, unconcious, but alive. I was sent, for I am known to be stealthy on my feet to go and find help. So here I am, asking for help." Mathias finished.

"The prince! What a bunch of lies. Do not listen to him Draggeur. He tried to kill us, but when he found out there were more of us than him, even if we are wounded, he pretended to be useful, until he told us that he was on the wall and when it breached, he lost his unit and was trying to find it when he came upon us. He lies, he is a coward and possibly a traitor. He could even be the one who started the fire on the gate! Protecting the Prince! Lies!" Corporal Georgy spat at Mathias.

Mathias knelt down in front of Jazhur and pounded his fist over his heart, looking up into the man's face. "Yes, Dragguer I was on the wall fighting alongside the Prince when it was breached and we heard Sgt. Mallowart to retreat. But first we had to save the Prince who was fighting a one armed orc who swung a very large spiked club. One of the soldiers a Corporal Traylon, I believe was seriously injured. A private Tiberius, who I think is one of the Prince's guards, took charge after some of us men rushed the orc and he jumped down the ladder. We came down off the wall, saw a dwarven healer and then the gate which was already burning, breached. We had little time and Tiberius ordered us into this house to protect our Prince and wounded. We found the ladies and the girl there, some orcs broke through, and though we defeated them, we also lost some men to them as well. There are now barely six men left guarding the prince and our wounded, besides the dwarven healer."

Mathias took a deep breath and continued,

"If I am lying then take my head now, for I would not want to be alive when the news of the Prince's death spreads thoughout the city and it could have been averted if only you listened and acted, Orrsah."Mathias said.

Mathias bent his head, sighed. There was nothing more he could say or do but...wait.
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