Post by Olmandis on Aug 20, 2007 17:01:41 GMT -5
-Harrowing tales and heroics and general idiocy by Olmandis-
The old dwarf flattened his back against the crumbling stone, his grip tightening on axe and sheild. The woodsmoke stink of the burning weapons racks sent out thick clouds of viscous smoke which seemed to lighten Angmar's obsidian, tempestual sky. The cries of the Hill man combined with the shriek perpetually on the ill wind blowing through the crevices filled the night. They were on the move.
The craggy old man raised the sheild to his chin, his muscle's taunt in anticipation. The pounding of feet became a duet to his trained ears. He sprang with an agility belying his years and the skill of a life-long guardsman.
His clouded green eyes grew wide as the flash of Gondorian-make armour glinted in the light of the fire behind him. His mailed foot plowed the ground as his arms shot forword like battering rams, guiding the wall of a sheild, barely stopping in time from slamming into the clearly non-hill-man before him.
"By Dwalin's beard, boy, you almost became a d**nable grease smear!" The hiss seemed to echo in his helm, sounding like that of an angry viper to his own ears. The young man, hands gripping a pair of blades didn't so much as stir, simply starred, vacantly forword. The old man blinked. "Yer a couple sheilds short of a phalanx, ain't ya lad? Get yer jack-arse in here afore I regret not making a mural outta ya on these rock walls." He ushed the kid in, herding him like a overly large, particuarily lump-like cat. No sooner did he get one situation anothere seemed to materialze behind him, saaaaame vacant look, saaaaaaaame armour and duel blades. "Ooooooooookay, this is getting odd."
The hill man's foot-falls seemed to shake the rocks around them as the Old man positioned himself set to receive charge, once again standing behind the wall, his cover set, his sheild ready. He gave a glance over to the two, standing placidly...some might say...stupidly, right in the clearly visible doorway. The old dwarf allowed himself a moment, just a single moment to spare an incredulous look to the two. Within that time, one made the universal pact sign for fellowship, and the old man thought to himself. "This is gonna get worse afore it gets better." In that moment, he heard himself sigh and return the sign, the pack was made, the fellowship formed....
The twang of bow leaving a string reverberated, and he launched himself, the metal before him a gleam in the dim fire light, and the arrow impacted harmless off the sheild...and as he stepped into the blow he could feel the familiar brush...the familiar brush...of...of...idiocy as the two boys launched themselves into the frey, blades flailing widly* "WHUT THE HELL ARE YA DOIN'?!?"
The words were a bellow from the dwarfs mouth, and lost to the song of steel-on-steel. Their blows fell like a torrent...and had about the same effect as a gentle spring rain might have...on a fully armoured hill men. There it was again, a moment of stillness and clarity, hell, the dwarf shared it with the hill men. They met looks. He swore he could see one of them shrug in bewilderment at him. "Aw...nuts...."
The two babes were wild windmills of pure...ineffectiveness. The bondsman almost seemed to laugh as his hammer battered away at their weapon, fending them off like a aurach's tail bats at flies. His smile died just as a sheild, seemingly of it's own accord, found his face, sending him to one knee, and the great axe that followed near took his nose off. He stood quickly, bracing himself on the haft of his pole arm, and the two slow lads seemed to be airborn during all this, as the old dwarf's bull rush sent them spinning. The bondsman's eyes gleamed and shot from side to side, searching for the easy prey, but then narrowed on the old dwarf in fury as the haft of the axe clangged loudly off Rodamath-Great-sheild in 3 resounding claps of mockery and defiance. With a screetch the bondsman dove full force, his foot planted, his hammer singing against the wind. The old dwarf pivoted, the slightest tink of metal on wood, and the maul went wide to one side. Moving his hip into it, the small, burly figured whirled before any chance of recovery and clipped the hill man in the shoulder, causing him to crumple a might. Powering through, the dwarf used that momentum, spun his axe and brought it crashing down on the head of the man, overwhelming his foe in a grisly display. As he caught his breath, thats when the twang once again resounded, giving the old man time enough to look up, seeing the hill man archer. The perpetually missing 'hurricane usless' had touched down well out of his range to provide any chance of protection....
"Awww, sunuva...."
The following battle was, once more, a blur of steel until the hill man fell, decorated with a myriad of wounds. The old man let his labored breath catch up with him, meeting the vacant stare of one of his wordless "companions". His bearded head whipping from one side to the other, vainly searching for the other...moron....The bonds of fellowship not so easily broken. He heard the tell-tale sound of more steel, and, sighing, hefted his sheild and ran. Least the other lad had sense enough to follow, if not enough to not be here, clearly out of their skill range.... They ran along, dodging and weaving through the fortitifed encampent , rolling along the blacked cliff-backed ground, the wanning light of Sauron's totems their only guide.
"Oh lovely, we can just follow the sound of hillman laughing as they charge the idjit, this works out well," panted the dwarf as he looked to the other lad with him. Yet another wordless reply. "The strong, silent, stupid type, eh?"
"Baruk Kah-oooooooly hell, thats alotta hillmen!"
The army of bondsmen followed the one young solider straight off into the night, their cries echoing around the rock walls. The dwarf brought his axe down upon one of the few stragglers, engaging him in battle, while the remaing green horn flurried futilly, akin to a dog yipping and nipping at the heels of some intruder it failed to realise found him nothing but comical. All that remained as the force trailed into the distance was the oddly rythmic slamming of maul on sheild, the guardian slowly whittling down the trio of enemies before him, the remaining solider at their backs. Admist the violent whirl wind of parries, blocks and flying mauls, the old man, sweat on his brow and in his beard, paused in bewteen sheild-resounding stuns to collect himself, breath and compose, finally overcoming the three, one after the other.
Shaking, whether or not with battle-born fury or idiot-derived raged, the old man turned to the crevice the fool disappeared into. Narrowing his eyes, he waited...removing his helmet...he waited. And then, hearing the futility of blow-after-blow- skittering off weapons and frantic running, he swore. Alot.
The boy come into view, followed by a most fearsome looking tarkrip, its rage-fuled howl even sending the hill men skittering. And the dwarf... moved forword and set to brace.
As his muscles' stiffened, he felt his spirit seem to falter, the light of the balefire torches catching the gleam of dread in all their eyes. And then, the eye was upon them.
"Your in Agmanr!!! How are you in Angmar!?!?! Get the hell outta Angma- ooooh hoooo hooo...Hiiii, Sauron....Crap....
And the beast was upon them, and the dwarves feet dug into the earth, stripping what little soil there was, he waged he could see sparks from his metal boots grinding across stone as the creature dove into them. And the battle raged....
And raged....
And raged...
and "whut the hell, this is nooooooot woooooooorking! Run you morons, RUUUUN!!!!! Dont wait for me, this beasties' gonna make a woman outta ya! And I don't mean just by brining yer dumb-arses chocolates and flowers!!!
Smashing his hand into his armoured breast, the pledge was made, and falted, and his breath, deep and controlled, made for it's inception twice, to no avail....
"I said run, you stupid sons o...I'll kill you meself, Sauron, get an eyeful o this!!" he's not entirly sure if he was able to get his middle finger up, but he certainly liked to believe he did. "They're mine to off, ya wait yer turn, you flamming eyed nancy-boy!"
And so, the trio did run. It's not sure who was chasing who, the dwarf chasing the lad, being chased by the tarkrip. But it certainly did make for an interesting campfire story for the remaining bewildering hillmen.
"If this is the age of men, thank Thorin's beard I'm d**n near dead as is, cause it's gonna be one sooooooooooooorry age!!!!!!!!"
((I hate pugs..., whats worse is an altrusitic "im gonna help you cause you have no business being here pug. This game makes me wanna take to the bottle. Zhongo, I know you feel my pain. The next time were pugging its with Jim Bean, Johnny Walker and Jack Daniels.))
The old dwarf flattened his back against the crumbling stone, his grip tightening on axe and sheild. The woodsmoke stink of the burning weapons racks sent out thick clouds of viscous smoke which seemed to lighten Angmar's obsidian, tempestual sky. The cries of the Hill man combined with the shriek perpetually on the ill wind blowing through the crevices filled the night. They were on the move.
The craggy old man raised the sheild to his chin, his muscle's taunt in anticipation. The pounding of feet became a duet to his trained ears. He sprang with an agility belying his years and the skill of a life-long guardsman.
His clouded green eyes grew wide as the flash of Gondorian-make armour glinted in the light of the fire behind him. His mailed foot plowed the ground as his arms shot forword like battering rams, guiding the wall of a sheild, barely stopping in time from slamming into the clearly non-hill-man before him.
"By Dwalin's beard, boy, you almost became a d**nable grease smear!" The hiss seemed to echo in his helm, sounding like that of an angry viper to his own ears. The young man, hands gripping a pair of blades didn't so much as stir, simply starred, vacantly forword. The old man blinked. "Yer a couple sheilds short of a phalanx, ain't ya lad? Get yer jack-arse in here afore I regret not making a mural outta ya on these rock walls." He ushed the kid in, herding him like a overly large, particuarily lump-like cat. No sooner did he get one situation anothere seemed to materialze behind him, saaaaame vacant look, saaaaaaaame armour and duel blades. "Ooooooooookay, this is getting odd."
The hill man's foot-falls seemed to shake the rocks around them as the Old man positioned himself set to receive charge, once again standing behind the wall, his cover set, his sheild ready. He gave a glance over to the two, standing placidly...some might say...stupidly, right in the clearly visible doorway. The old dwarf allowed himself a moment, just a single moment to spare an incredulous look to the two. Within that time, one made the universal pact sign for fellowship, and the old man thought to himself. "This is gonna get worse afore it gets better." In that moment, he heard himself sigh and return the sign, the pack was made, the fellowship formed....
The twang of bow leaving a string reverberated, and he launched himself, the metal before him a gleam in the dim fire light, and the arrow impacted harmless off the sheild...and as he stepped into the blow he could feel the familiar brush...the familiar brush...of...of...idiocy as the two boys launched themselves into the frey, blades flailing widly* "WHUT THE HELL ARE YA DOIN'?!?"
The words were a bellow from the dwarfs mouth, and lost to the song of steel-on-steel. Their blows fell like a torrent...and had about the same effect as a gentle spring rain might have...on a fully armoured hill men. There it was again, a moment of stillness and clarity, hell, the dwarf shared it with the hill men. They met looks. He swore he could see one of them shrug in bewilderment at him. "Aw...nuts...."
The two babes were wild windmills of pure...ineffectiveness. The bondsman almost seemed to laugh as his hammer battered away at their weapon, fending them off like a aurach's tail bats at flies. His smile died just as a sheild, seemingly of it's own accord, found his face, sending him to one knee, and the great axe that followed near took his nose off. He stood quickly, bracing himself on the haft of his pole arm, and the two slow lads seemed to be airborn during all this, as the old dwarf's bull rush sent them spinning. The bondsman's eyes gleamed and shot from side to side, searching for the easy prey, but then narrowed on the old dwarf in fury as the haft of the axe clangged loudly off Rodamath-Great-sheild in 3 resounding claps of mockery and defiance. With a screetch the bondsman dove full force, his foot planted, his hammer singing against the wind. The old dwarf pivoted, the slightest tink of metal on wood, and the maul went wide to one side. Moving his hip into it, the small, burly figured whirled before any chance of recovery and clipped the hill man in the shoulder, causing him to crumple a might. Powering through, the dwarf used that momentum, spun his axe and brought it crashing down on the head of the man, overwhelming his foe in a grisly display. As he caught his breath, thats when the twang once again resounded, giving the old man time enough to look up, seeing the hill man archer. The perpetually missing 'hurricane usless' had touched down well out of his range to provide any chance of protection....
"Awww, sunuva...."
The following battle was, once more, a blur of steel until the hill man fell, decorated with a myriad of wounds. The old man let his labored breath catch up with him, meeting the vacant stare of one of his wordless "companions". His bearded head whipping from one side to the other, vainly searching for the other...moron....The bonds of fellowship not so easily broken. He heard the tell-tale sound of more steel, and, sighing, hefted his sheild and ran. Least the other lad had sense enough to follow, if not enough to not be here, clearly out of their skill range.... They ran along, dodging and weaving through the fortitifed encampent , rolling along the blacked cliff-backed ground, the wanning light of Sauron's totems their only guide.
"Oh lovely, we can just follow the sound of hillman laughing as they charge the idjit, this works out well," panted the dwarf as he looked to the other lad with him. Yet another wordless reply. "The strong, silent, stupid type, eh?"
"Baruk Kah-oooooooly hell, thats alotta hillmen!"
The army of bondsmen followed the one young solider straight off into the night, their cries echoing around the rock walls. The dwarf brought his axe down upon one of the few stragglers, engaging him in battle, while the remaing green horn flurried futilly, akin to a dog yipping and nipping at the heels of some intruder it failed to realise found him nothing but comical. All that remained as the force trailed into the distance was the oddly rythmic slamming of maul on sheild, the guardian slowly whittling down the trio of enemies before him, the remaining solider at their backs. Admist the violent whirl wind of parries, blocks and flying mauls, the old man, sweat on his brow and in his beard, paused in bewteen sheild-resounding stuns to collect himself, breath and compose, finally overcoming the three, one after the other.
Shaking, whether or not with battle-born fury or idiot-derived raged, the old man turned to the crevice the fool disappeared into. Narrowing his eyes, he waited...removing his helmet...he waited. And then, hearing the futility of blow-after-blow- skittering off weapons and frantic running, he swore. Alot.
The boy come into view, followed by a most fearsome looking tarkrip, its rage-fuled howl even sending the hill men skittering. And the dwarf... moved forword and set to brace.
As his muscles' stiffened, he felt his spirit seem to falter, the light of the balefire torches catching the gleam of dread in all their eyes. And then, the eye was upon them.
"Your in Agmanr!!! How are you in Angmar!?!?! Get the hell outta Angma- ooooh hoooo hooo...Hiiii, Sauron....Crap....
And the beast was upon them, and the dwarves feet dug into the earth, stripping what little soil there was, he waged he could see sparks from his metal boots grinding across stone as the creature dove into them. And the battle raged....
And raged....
And raged...
and "whut the hell, this is nooooooot woooooooorking! Run you morons, RUUUUN!!!!! Dont wait for me, this beasties' gonna make a woman outta ya! And I don't mean just by brining yer dumb-arses chocolates and flowers!!!
Smashing his hand into his armoured breast, the pledge was made, and falted, and his breath, deep and controlled, made for it's inception twice, to no avail....
"I said run, you stupid sons o...I'll kill you meself, Sauron, get an eyeful o this!!" he's not entirly sure if he was able to get his middle finger up, but he certainly liked to believe he did. "They're mine to off, ya wait yer turn, you flamming eyed nancy-boy!"
And so, the trio did run. It's not sure who was chasing who, the dwarf chasing the lad, being chased by the tarkrip. But it certainly did make for an interesting campfire story for the remaining bewildering hillmen.
"If this is the age of men, thank Thorin's beard I'm d**n near dead as is, cause it's gonna be one sooooooooooooorry age!!!!!!!!"
((I hate pugs..., whats worse is an altrusitic "im gonna help you cause you have no business being here pug. This game makes me wanna take to the bottle. Zhongo, I know you feel my pain. The next time were pugging its with Jim Bean, Johnny Walker and Jack Daniels.))
