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Amanaduial the archer · 04-23-2004, 01:13 PM

Flori started to call after Nali, taking a few running steps after him and starting to call his name at Narin's disappearing back.

"Nar-"

"Flori, leave it." Ori surprised Flori and he turned around to him. But as soon as he saw his brother's expression, he understood - he had seen it in Narin as well; the blushes around Lin, his beryl present which, he knew, she kept with her alwats, the nudges and whispers from the other dwarves and Narin's blush that spoke as well as a confession. He grinned at his brother, then sighed a little - it left them wit three less fighters.

Slowly, he walked forward, standing by the closed door of the chamber down to the stairs and the bridge, the rest of the dwarves around him. He looked at their faces in turn, then nodded, satisfied at what he saw.

"We'll defend the door if possible - it's the smallest gap before the bridge and to take any one of us they would lose many of their own. We can fight well from there." He looked at them once more, then grinned at all of them, his blue eyes glittering darkly. "Alright lads - let's show the coddle-brained, wood-headed monsters how a dwarf of The Lonely Mountain fights!"

The other dwarves roared approval and, axe held high in the air with the rest of them, Flori wrenched open the door and flooded down it, fighting down the words that automatically felt they should come after the last word '...lets show 'em how to fight - and die..."

As they came to the entrance, the dwarves hit the first wave of orcs, taking them by surprise and hitting them from behind - because it was from behind, they didn't hit the more dispensable grunts first, but the higher, more powerful orcs. An immediate advantage, Flori thought with grim satisfaction as he swung his large axe with both hands. The first sweep cleanly took off the head of one orc and sank into the chest of another, but the next victim in it's path was ready and ducked around it. He was a swarthy individual, arrogant and full of himself, his rotting teeth set in a permanent sneer and one eye half closed by a wound as if winking salaciously. But he was quicker than Flori might have given him credit for - a rusty blade was out in a flash and as the dwarven warrior swung his axe again, it met with the blade, sparks flying.

The battle for the dwarrow-delf had begun.

04-23-2004, 01:13 PM	#192
Amanaduial the archer Shadow of Starlight Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: dancing among the ledgerlines... Posts: 2,347	Flori Flori started to call after Nali, taking a few running steps after him and starting to call his name at Narin's disappearing back. "Nar-" "Flori, leave it." Ori surprised Flori and he turned around to him. But as soon as he saw his brother's expression, he understood - he had seen it in Narin as well; the blushes around Lin, his beryl present which, he knew, she kept with her alwats, the nudges and whispers from the other dwarves and Narin's blush that spoke as well as a confession. He grinned at his brother, then sighed a little - it left them wit three less fighters. Slowly, he walked forward, standing by the closed door of the chamber down to the stairs and the bridge, the rest of the dwarves around him. He looked at their faces in turn, then nodded, satisfied at what he saw. "We'll defend the door if possible - it's the smallest gap before the bridge and to take any one of us they would lose many of their own. We can fight well from there." He looked at them once more, then grinned at all of them, his blue eyes glittering darkly. "Alright lads - let's show the coddle-brained, wood-headed monsters how a dwarf of The Lonely Mountain fights!" The other dwarves roared approval and, axe held high in the air with the rest of them, Flori wrenched open the door and flooded down it, fighting down the words that automatically felt they should come after the last word '...lets show 'em how to fight - and die..." As they came to the entrance, the dwarves hit the first wave of orcs, taking them by surprise and hitting them from behind - because it was from behind, they didn't hit the more dispensable grunts first, but the higher, more powerful orcs. An immediate advantage, Flori thought with grim satisfaction as he swung his large axe with both hands. The first sweep cleanly took off the head of one orc and sank into the chest of another, but the next victim in it's path was ready and ducked around it. He was a swarthy individual, arrogant and full of himself, his rotting teeth set in a permanent sneer and one eye half closed by a wound as if winking salaciously. But he was quicker than Flori might have given him credit for - a rusty blade was out in a flash and as the dwarven warrior swung his axe again, it met with the blade, sparks flying. The battle for the dwarrow-delf had begun.