Post by Casmus Solomos on Apr 28, 2008 19:58:14 GMT -5
OOC part first I guess: Ive been playing the game for a couple weeks now and am friends in real life with a few members of the guild. Im asking for membership for the two surviving members of the Solomos family whos story is told here............................
He sat on the cold stone, unable to move. It had been several hours now, the sun wqas just beginning to shine on the mountains. At his feet his daughter lay, her eyes shut tight to the ghastly scene about her. She was quiet and motionless save for the tiny heaves of her chest up and down as she drew breath. Of the many bpdies that covered the ground hers was the only one left that still could.
Her father wished he could somehow take her away from that place; to somehow wash away the memories of what had happened mere hours before. But he couldnt, she was there when the camp was assaulted. She saw her mother, her baby brother, and the rest of their kin systematically butchered. She heard the hissing of the arrows' fletching seconds before they fell upon her people stealing all they had or ever would. And she, like her father heard their wicked chants as they did their wicked work.
Goblins. His father had told him storieswhen he was just a boy about those malicious half-men. His father was at the Battle of Five Armies when that great goblin host fell on the unwary and greedy squabblers. Smaug dead less than a week's time and Man, Elf and Dwarf alike were arguing over trinkets.
(Flashback Squiggles)
That all seemed like the stuff of myth and legend to him though. The kingdom of Dale, hed grown up inwas peaceful and prosperous.
Like his father Castor Solomos, he chose to serve in his town's watch. But there was rarely ever much to watch for. Occasionally a pack of wolves needed to be driven off or a troupe of bandits apprehended but never anything that a small show of force couldnt handle. At least not until recently.
The Easterling clans had become ever more aggressive of late. They seemed to be camping in ever greater numbers within mere days travel of Dale, and any attempts to communicate with them were met with hostility. They were too many to meet in direct confrontation, many townspeople thought, and so other solutions were sought.
It Broke Casmus' heart to learn that his own family had decided to flee Dale for the hope of safety and security beyond the Mirkwood and the Misty Mountains in that land of song and legend still sung of by some of the dwarves of Lonely Mountain. But it had been decided by his elders. His duty was to his kin before it was to his nation, and they would need protection on the journey that lay ahead.
(Flash Forward Squiggles)
Twenty-eight in all left from Dale some two months ago. They circumnavigated Mirkwood forest, not wishing to confirm any of the horror stories associated with that dread land. The great river Anduin took some doing to cross safely but it was done. The only obstacle that remained was the Immense Misty Mountains. But the Solomos clan overcame even that.
Last night it seemd all the hard work of the previous weeks was finally paying off for he and his kin. They had finally reached the summit of the mountain pass as the sun was setting.
There was not one among them who saw the beautiful valleys before them and the promise of new life they held whose speech was not taken from them for that moment. It was at this spot his uncle Cassius, the clan patriarch, chose to make camp.
To be Continued
(and continuing....Theres a bit more action in this part)
All was quite cheery that evening. The family was finally nearing its destination. His son, Castos swore he could see the lights of Bree, the town they were emigrating to, in the distance. Supper and songs were shared before first the children then shortly after adults made for their bedrolls.
While his cousin Selvan kept the first watch, Casmus made his way down the mountain path to gather more firewood for breakfast. He had a full bundle in hand when he heard the scream. It was the unmistakable cry of his wife, Velena, and then abrupt silence.
As he raced back to the camp, new sounds filled the night. The tell-tale plinks and plucks of bowstrings, the clash of metal on metal more and now more screams: some from women some, some from men, some from children.
Then began the chanting. The Goblins' song described with a malicious glee the many cruelties they were employing against his family. Casmus reached the camp to see five goblins sing a verse as they clubbed his cousin to death. Goblin blades were pushing into the chest and back of his nephew Caleb for trying to fend them away from his pregnant mother with a stick. All about the camp were episodes from his worst nightmares. His family systematically murdered for the delight of these little brutes. He had to do something and fast.
Pluck! Casmus heard from his right. It was a Goblin archer firing into the camp and now nocking another arrow. It hadnt noticed him yet, good. He gradded a looses stone from the ground and dashed towards the little fiend. he was on the beast before it could react and four strokes of the rock later its head was caved in.
Casmus took its bow, arrows and long, jagged knife. he took a few moments to assess the camp and what of his family remained. There were so few now.
Quickly looking around the perimeter, Casmus immediately spotted four more archers, three grouped and one straggler. A quick nock, aim and release later and it was just the three. The others still hadnt noticed him, good. He'd need every lucky break he could get to pull this off. He quietly crept over to the fresh Goblin corse and lifted its blade.
A loud "Crang" resounded through the night. casmus looked into the camp. A Goblin axe had bounced off his brother Carnus' shield. Casmus knew he had to move quicker. There looked like only three of his kin left now. His brother, his nephew Craig and ... his daughter, Casandria wielding his sword and her granduncle's shield. The three were completely surrounded.
More to come
The Goblin attempted another swing at Carnus which he met once more with his shield. Another larger Goblin, "No not Goblin," Casmus thought "Orcs, the big ones were called." The Orc Moved in to engage his daughter with its massive Maul raised above its head. Casmus was about to rush the brute but Casandria reacted before him, driving the point of her kite shield through the Orc's foot then raking the blade across its exposed gut, before falling back in with her Cousin and Uncle. "Where in Middle-Earth did she learn how to do that?" was the thought lingering in his mind as he set himself back to the task of clearing the Goblin's perimeter.
The Archers were still about forty paces away. They had arrows nocked but with the crowd of their own in between them and their prey they stayed their hands begrudgingly, but keeping an eye out for any opening to continue their fun.
When Cas fell upon them from behind they were taken wholly unawares. He cut wildly with the Goblin blades, each swing ripping into Goblin flesh and creating howls of Goblin pain. It was over in less than a minute.
The element of surprise was lost now, though. The Archer's death wails alerted the main mob that was trying to get at what was left of his family. Four moved to engage him. Cas lept from his crouched position to meet the first, moving his head to the side just in time to avoid its sword and countering with both of his own blades each finding its mark, one cutting deep into the Goblin Swordsman's shoulder, the other into his chest.
He didnt have time to pull the blades back out of the now lifeless Swordsman as a second Goblin thrust at him with a spear from his right. More on instinct, fear and an ever-building rage than anything else Cas found the speed to sidestep the spear and grab it just below the head. With a strength that he never imagined to possess he snapped the head of the spear clean off and used it to rake across the now dumbfounded spearman's throat.
The other two Goblins stopped in their tracks at this sight. This gave him a chance to see how the fight was going on in the crowd past them. It wasnt good. Three Goblin spearmen were repeatedly stabbing his nephew, his life gone already. he could see the broken body of his brother. Some of the other Goblins had taken notice of him now, looking for fresh meat. As they began to move toward him he could see His daughter with her arms held behind her by another Orc, a small Goblin coming closer to her, laughing. She landed a foot in its face pushing it back some and bloodying its mouth. "Good!" Cas could hear it say, "You fight. Make it more fun. You bear good litter for Gasha."
She couldnt see him from her vantage but she called for him nevertheless, "Daaaaaaaaaaadddddyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!" she screamed. His world went red at that moment, coherent thought gone. All that was left was a white-hot hate for anything standing between him and his little girl.
(next installment should finish it)
He sat on the cold stone, unable to move. It had been several hours now, the sun wqas just beginning to shine on the mountains. At his feet his daughter lay, her eyes shut tight to the ghastly scene about her. She was quiet and motionless save for the tiny heaves of her chest up and down as she drew breath. Of the many bpdies that covered the ground hers was the only one left that still could.
Her father wished he could somehow take her away from that place; to somehow wash away the memories of what had happened mere hours before. But he couldnt, she was there when the camp was assaulted. She saw her mother, her baby brother, and the rest of their kin systematically butchered. She heard the hissing of the arrows' fletching seconds before they fell upon her people stealing all they had or ever would. And she, like her father heard their wicked chants as they did their wicked work.
Goblins. His father had told him storieswhen he was just a boy about those malicious half-men. His father was at the Battle of Five Armies when that great goblin host fell on the unwary and greedy squabblers. Smaug dead less than a week's time and Man, Elf and Dwarf alike were arguing over trinkets.
(Flashback Squiggles)
That all seemed like the stuff of myth and legend to him though. The kingdom of Dale, hed grown up inwas peaceful and prosperous.
Like his father Castor Solomos, he chose to serve in his town's watch. But there was rarely ever much to watch for. Occasionally a pack of wolves needed to be driven off or a troupe of bandits apprehended but never anything that a small show of force couldnt handle. At least not until recently.
The Easterling clans had become ever more aggressive of late. They seemed to be camping in ever greater numbers within mere days travel of Dale, and any attempts to communicate with them were met with hostility. They were too many to meet in direct confrontation, many townspeople thought, and so other solutions were sought.
It Broke Casmus' heart to learn that his own family had decided to flee Dale for the hope of safety and security beyond the Mirkwood and the Misty Mountains in that land of song and legend still sung of by some of the dwarves of Lonely Mountain. But it had been decided by his elders. His duty was to his kin before it was to his nation, and they would need protection on the journey that lay ahead.
(Flash Forward Squiggles)
Twenty-eight in all left from Dale some two months ago. They circumnavigated Mirkwood forest, not wishing to confirm any of the horror stories associated with that dread land. The great river Anduin took some doing to cross safely but it was done. The only obstacle that remained was the Immense Misty Mountains. But the Solomos clan overcame even that.
Last night it seemd all the hard work of the previous weeks was finally paying off for he and his kin. They had finally reached the summit of the mountain pass as the sun was setting.
There was not one among them who saw the beautiful valleys before them and the promise of new life they held whose speech was not taken from them for that moment. It was at this spot his uncle Cassius, the clan patriarch, chose to make camp.
To be Continued
(and continuing....Theres a bit more action in this part)
All was quite cheery that evening. The family was finally nearing its destination. His son, Castos swore he could see the lights of Bree, the town they were emigrating to, in the distance. Supper and songs were shared before first the children then shortly after adults made for their bedrolls.
While his cousin Selvan kept the first watch, Casmus made his way down the mountain path to gather more firewood for breakfast. He had a full bundle in hand when he heard the scream. It was the unmistakable cry of his wife, Velena, and then abrupt silence.
As he raced back to the camp, new sounds filled the night. The tell-tale plinks and plucks of bowstrings, the clash of metal on metal more and now more screams: some from women some, some from men, some from children.
Then began the chanting. The Goblins' song described with a malicious glee the many cruelties they were employing against his family. Casmus reached the camp to see five goblins sing a verse as they clubbed his cousin to death. Goblin blades were pushing into the chest and back of his nephew Caleb for trying to fend them away from his pregnant mother with a stick. All about the camp were episodes from his worst nightmares. His family systematically murdered for the delight of these little brutes. He had to do something and fast.
Pluck! Casmus heard from his right. It was a Goblin archer firing into the camp and now nocking another arrow. It hadnt noticed him yet, good. He gradded a looses stone from the ground and dashed towards the little fiend. he was on the beast before it could react and four strokes of the rock later its head was caved in.
Casmus took its bow, arrows and long, jagged knife. he took a few moments to assess the camp and what of his family remained. There were so few now.
Quickly looking around the perimeter, Casmus immediately spotted four more archers, three grouped and one straggler. A quick nock, aim and release later and it was just the three. The others still hadnt noticed him, good. He'd need every lucky break he could get to pull this off. He quietly crept over to the fresh Goblin corse and lifted its blade.
A loud "Crang" resounded through the night. casmus looked into the camp. A Goblin axe had bounced off his brother Carnus' shield. Casmus knew he had to move quicker. There looked like only three of his kin left now. His brother, his nephew Craig and ... his daughter, Casandria wielding his sword and her granduncle's shield. The three were completely surrounded.
More to come
The Goblin attempted another swing at Carnus which he met once more with his shield. Another larger Goblin, "No not Goblin," Casmus thought "Orcs, the big ones were called." The Orc Moved in to engage his daughter with its massive Maul raised above its head. Casmus was about to rush the brute but Casandria reacted before him, driving the point of her kite shield through the Orc's foot then raking the blade across its exposed gut, before falling back in with her Cousin and Uncle. "Where in Middle-Earth did she learn how to do that?" was the thought lingering in his mind as he set himself back to the task of clearing the Goblin's perimeter.
The Archers were still about forty paces away. They had arrows nocked but with the crowd of their own in between them and their prey they stayed their hands begrudgingly, but keeping an eye out for any opening to continue their fun.
When Cas fell upon them from behind they were taken wholly unawares. He cut wildly with the Goblin blades, each swing ripping into Goblin flesh and creating howls of Goblin pain. It was over in less than a minute.
The element of surprise was lost now, though. The Archer's death wails alerted the main mob that was trying to get at what was left of his family. Four moved to engage him. Cas lept from his crouched position to meet the first, moving his head to the side just in time to avoid its sword and countering with both of his own blades each finding its mark, one cutting deep into the Goblin Swordsman's shoulder, the other into his chest.
He didnt have time to pull the blades back out of the now lifeless Swordsman as a second Goblin thrust at him with a spear from his right. More on instinct, fear and an ever-building rage than anything else Cas found the speed to sidestep the spear and grab it just below the head. With a strength that he never imagined to possess he snapped the head of the spear clean off and used it to rake across the now dumbfounded spearman's throat.
The other two Goblins stopped in their tracks at this sight. This gave him a chance to see how the fight was going on in the crowd past them. It wasnt good. Three Goblin spearmen were repeatedly stabbing his nephew, his life gone already. he could see the broken body of his brother. Some of the other Goblins had taken notice of him now, looking for fresh meat. As they began to move toward him he could see His daughter with her arms held behind her by another Orc, a small Goblin coming closer to her, laughing. She landed a foot in its face pushing it back some and bloodying its mouth. "Good!" Cas could hear it say, "You fight. Make it more fun. You bear good litter for Gasha."
She couldnt see him from her vantage but she called for him nevertheless, "Daaaaaaaaaaadddddyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!" she screamed. His world went red at that moment, coherent thought gone. All that was left was a white-hot hate for anything standing between him and his little girl.
(next installment should finish it)
