Outracing the Flames RPG

[Nogrod]

Sythric hadn’t time to think about Brand, as he made it upwards, and was seeing Vaenosa up the hill, slipping to the ground, rising up, and then shooting her bow – being followed by an easterling, just going for the kill. He spurred Thydrë to make the best of it.

Just as the easterling was about to give his killing-blow to Vaenosa, he glanced back – hearing someone approaching him with speed. He had no time to curse his lord. Raedwald’s lance pierced him with such a vigour, as to send him flying from his saddle. With a quick yank, Sythric got the lance free of the man. So this is why he loved this spear! I’m beginning to get it! The man fell over Vaenosa, but Sythric had no time to check on her now. There was too much going on at the top of the hill – and he started feeling dizzy. The pain on his side started being unbearable. He didn’t know, how much blood he had lost, but clearly, things started getting foggy around him, the voices softened... Raedwald! “Just remember, that this message to the King... is the single most important thing on your journey”. Brand!! “It’s more important than the lives of any one of those youngsters, and remember also this...” Meghan!, Dorran! “your being alive is the best insurance we have for the message reaching it’s destination.“ Vaenosa! ”Don’t try to be a hero of your conscience, be the hero of your people.” The words of old Hugebryth were dimmed down, confused with his own nightmarish visions... He approached the top of the hill, barely conscious.

[Farael]

There had been one Easterling and then another. Osmod had avoided their attacks but had not managed to land a blow. He had already seen Rædwald go down and Meghan taken prisoner. He knew others had been wounded yet it was not time to stop just now. Osmod had barely managed to parry a stroke by an Easterling rider when a blood chilling scream was heard from the nearby hill. The few riders left wheeled around and dispersed, leaving the field littered with the bodies of their fallen as well as some of the Rohirrim.

Osmod jumped off his horse and kneeled by the side of a fallen woman. It was Vaenosa and she seemed to be out cold. Her hand was still grasping her bow and the dead body of a man was lying nearby. Osmod looked for any cuts or slashes and found none, so he carefully turned the woman face up and was relieved to see she was still breathing. A dark bruise was forming on her forehead so he assumed she had been knocked out, perhaps the Easterling meant to take her as they had taken Meghan.

Meghan… Osmod looked up the hill and saw that the fighting was not over. Yet he was too far to help them and there were people who needed to be looked after. Cursing himself for not being able to do more, he decided to help those he could rather than waste his time, and possibly his life, in a lost cause. As far as he was concerned, those up the hill were by themselves. He prayed the gods would be on their side as well.

[Arry]

‘Help me up!’ Brand’s voice came weakly at first and then stronger as his resolve grew. He forced his mind away from the pain in his shoulder, focusing on the present need . . . to drive away the foe and to bring Meghan safely back to the group. With an effort and a steadying grip on the rock he’d lain against, he got to his feet.

‘Stop your crying, Athwen. Bring Lady near and hold her steady.’

He’d pulled the Easterling’s blade from his shoulder. It had bled profusely, but now seemed down to a trickle. He could barely move the left arm, though, so intense was the pain from the wound. Holding on to Lady’s mane, Brand pulled himself up with his right arm until he was once again astride her. He could not help but hit his left shoulder against the horse and saddle as he clambered clumsily up. And it took all his effort not to cry out as the pain seared through him.

He asked for his cudgel, and someone, he was not sure who, handed it up to him. He grasped it tightly in his right fist and with his knees and voice urged Lady up the hill.

At the top he saw Sythric, barely sitting on his mount and there against a tree was Meghan with Dorran crouched by her. One Easterling lay dead a little ways away and one Easterling hovered over Meghan and Dorran, his scimitar raised.

With a loud cry, he raised his cudgel and bore down on the Lord of the Easterlings . . .

[Naria]

It was nearing nightfall where it was not so dark as to not be able to see ones surroundings, but not enough light to be able to see detail like one would during the bright light of day. Pup had come bounding up behind Starlight and gave a happy bark and Incana looked down with a smile; almost as though nothing at all would interfere with the rest of their journey. As it would turn out she would be terribly wrong about this thought.

Arrows, so many arrows! What is going on she thought. We must run....run as fast as our mounts can take us! Just then she felt Starlight's hind end buckle under her. The horse didn't fall, but she had a very hard time regaining her footing in the wet soil. Incana quickly looked to her right then her left. She saw them. They were ugly, horrid creatures with a relentless pursuit on the group that had become her only family out on the plains. Amidst the confusion, Starlight panicked and reared; Incana was caught off guard and fell to the ground. She saw her horse run into some nearby trees with Pup close behind. Incana, although quite winded, jumped to her feet and retrieved her long knife out of her pouch that she always had hanging from her waist.

Incana backed up, one foot then another her head whirling and her stomach tight with anxiety. One foot then another, until her back hit something which she thought to be a tree. It startled her and she turned around to look an Easterling right in the eyes. He immediately grabbed her and turned her back around to face the carnage once again. He had a choke hold on her neck and a knife in her side. "Move....my pretty," He said with a raspy gurgling sound in his voice. He didn't have to ask again, Incana put one foot infront of the other and the two of them started towards the hill and towards his leader. They were walking past Leod when she found her feet had involuntarily stopped moving. She glanced his way with a tear soaked face and a begging in her eyes for him to help her. Incana only had enough time to see Leod nod before she felt the knife break the skin at her side.

"What are you doing? Keep moving you insolent woman! My master will be very pleased indeed with this prize," He said with a snicker. Incana winced with the pain and once again did as she was told. The Easterling had reached the hill with Incana when she suddenly heard a thwack! The man that was holding her captive released his grip and fell to the ground behind her. Incana wheeled around and saw Leod holding a thick, solid piece of wood. She gave the Easterling a good kick to make sure that he wasn't getting up, for Leod had just rendered the man unconscious, but she didn't want to wait around to find out how long this would last.

Incana peerd down to the side that the Easterling's knife had pierced. She looked back up at Leod, "It's not that bad, only a flesh wound." Putting everything else aside, even her feelings, she grabbed Leod's hand and said, "We have to go and help the ones that have fallen, for we are the only ones that can do so now."

[Arry]

Brand was barely able to keep astride Lady as she made for the Easterling leader. His reserve of energy was nearly tapped out as he brandished his club at Calimehtar. As he leaned to his right to swing the heavy cudgel, he lost his balance and fell, tumbling forward after his club.

He managed to hit the Easterling in the small of the back, a glancing blow, though it would still most likely leave a good sized bruise and be fairly painful for a while. His body, on the other hand, slammed against Calimehtar's left shoulder as he fell and landed in an crumpled heap near Dorran.

Brand's last thought as he hit the ground was that now the Easterling would have three to kill instead of two . . .

[Undómë]

The force of the Easterling’s blow had driven her against a tree. Meghan had not lost consciousness with the impact, but every bone in her back seemed to ache with an agonizing intensity as she tried to move. Dorran was huddled near her, covered in spatter of blood. She hoped it was that of the Easterling he had killed, the one who’d put his knife so cruelly to her throat and cheek.

She’d seen Brand charge the Easterling leader that threatened her and Dorran with his scimitar. But he looked weak even from a distance. His face was pale and slick with sweat from the effort to make the charge. He’d managed to hit the Easterling in the back and had knocked the man a little off balance as he fell from Lady.

One of the knitting needles with which she’d attacked the other Easterling was still grasped in her hand. She lurched up to her knees as Calimehtar twisted to the side from the force of Brand’s blow. With a lunge she drove the thick, sharp needle deep into the side of the Easterlings’ left leg just above and to the side of the kneecap. It broke off just as it hit the kneecap, lodging firmly between the muscle and the bony cap. With a gasp of pain she threw herself down quickly on her back, close to the looming figure. Drawing up her knees she kicked out at his legs, aiming for the knee she’d just wounded, pushing him backward.

Meghan did not wait to see him fall. ‘Use your sling, Dorran, she said, handing him a few of the small rocks on the ground. I’m getting Lady and we’re all getting out of here . . .

[Nogrod]

Just reaching the oaks on the ridge, Sythric realized that he had to pause. For a while he didn’t practically see or hear anything. Had there been an easterling noticing him near enough, he would have been an easy prey. All of his left side was going numb and everything was spinning.

He became aware of the world around him only after the noise of a horse passing him some fifteen yards away came into his consciousness. Brand! What...? It was only then, that he came to see the situation up here. Meghan and Dorran were clinging to each other by the side of a dead easterling, and the chieftain was about to do away with them. And Brand was charging him. Where were everyone else?

He saw Brand swinging his cudgel towards the easterling. He had become aware of the attack just at the last instance, and parried with his scimitar. Brand’s hit went through the defence, but was twarthed by it – and the parrying move unbalanced Brand, sending him off Lady. He saw Meghan rising up and hitting the easterling to his leg. There had to be something in that, as the chieftain howled.

And then Sythric was just overwhelmed by anger. He felt energy pulsing all over his body. This will not do! Young ladies needing to make a desperate defence! You’ll have to stop that monster, whatever it takes! By that he spurred Thydrë towards the easterling, yelling wildly “For Rohan!”, as he went. Calimehtar regained his balance after Meghan's attack, and came to his senses soon enough, seeing Sythric charging him. He seemed immediately conscious, that the situation was not in his favour, as Sythric would have the first blow because of the lance he had pointing towards him. So Calimehtar backed rightwards, finding cover behind two stout oaks nearby, and forcing Sythric to slow down his speed, and lose some of the advantage.

So you know your trade? Well, I know mine too!, Sythric thought to himself and changed his course to meet Calimehtar head on, behind the oaks. Just as he was really slowing down, making the turn left, he spurred Thydrë to full gallop, yanking her a bit more leftwards. Sythric was still coming towards Calimehtar, but now following a trail that would make him pass Calimehtar from the other side of the trees. The easterling seemed confused, and probably got Sythric’s idea, just a moment too late. Before he could back away from behind the trees, Sythric had passed him from the other side, throwing his knife from between the oaks, with his left hand. He didn’t see, where it landed, but judging from the easterling yell, he knew he had hit.

But the throw seemed to be the final thing. The pain on his left side just bursted his brain! Everything went dark. Sythric grasped Thydrë’s neck, just to hold on the saddle. Thydrë slowed down and started carrying him downhill, away from the ridge. But about that Sythric was now totally unaware of. He wasn’t aware of anything anymore. Just pain and darkness. Then came the blissful silence.