Wilderness, Weathertop, & Wild Things RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Alaksoron · 10-19-2004, 07:21 PM

Osric sat against a portion of wall that afforded some makeshft shelter from the wind. He was checking his swordblade. It was a fine Elven make, beautiful yet deadly. His mind drifted to Pelennor Fields, where Alaksoron had lay dying, a Haradrim arrow in his chest. Despite all his skill with medicine, Osric had been unable to help his captain that had quickly become his friend. It had been a triply barbed arrow, jagged and strong enough to break bones. The kind that never came back out.

Alaksoron had been the captain of his Rohirrim regiment. Alaksoron had been a great Elf-friend, and as a result received an Elven sword as a gift for an act of valor. As Alaksoron had lain gasping, Osric crouching helpless beside him, the battle raging around them, he had pressed his fine sword into Osric's hand. He had said nothing, but that had been enough. As Alaksoron breathed his last, Osric Falkur had returned to the battle with renewed vigor, an Elven blade in his hand.

He sat apart from the others, and his thoughts passed to the events of the previous day. He was aware subconsciously of Veryadan getting up to check on the horses. He himself had found nothing yesterday, which irritated him, but the other two had said trolls. Trolls were one of the few things that Osric was afraid of. A troll could easily rip the sturdiest man to shreds. He had seen that, at Pelennor Fields. Idly he wondered why the creatures which possessed obvious advantages in size, which possessed such savage strength, also had the dullest minds.

And it was the word which Osric feared most which jolted him from his thoughts. "Trolls!" Veryadan yelled.

He was up and running before he had time to think, lucky that his sword had already been in his hand. Aidwain was running too, bow in hand, and outpacing him with his long legs. Osric froze when he saw the Trolls, sudden fear gripping him. He heard a savage whoop from behind him, and turned to see four orcs advancing. Here was an enemy he was not so reluctant to encounter.

There was a knife in Osric's free hand quicker than a man could blink, and it was back out of his hand just as quickly. Blood blossomed in an Orc's throat as Osric's knife struck home. He brandished his sword, hoping that Aidwain could keep the trolls off of Veryadan with his arrows. On came the Orcs.

10-19-2004, 07:21 PM	#30
Alaksoron Haunting Spirit Join Date: Sep 2003 Posts: 73	Osric sat against a portion of wall that afforded some makeshft shelter from the wind. He was checking his swordblade. It was a fine Elven make, beautiful yet deadly. His mind drifted to Pelennor Fields, where Alaksoron had lay dying, a Haradrim arrow in his chest. Despite all his skill with medicine, Osric had been unable to help his captain that had quickly become his friend. It had been a triply barbed arrow, jagged and strong enough to break bones. The kind that never came back out. Alaksoron had been the captain of his Rohirrim regiment. Alaksoron had been a great Elf-friend, and as a result received an Elven sword as a gift for an act of valor. As Alaksoron had lain gasping, Osric crouching helpless beside him, the battle raging around them, he had pressed his fine sword into Osric's hand. He had said nothing, but that had been enough. As Alaksoron breathed his last, Osric Falkur had returned to the battle with renewed vigor, an Elven blade in his hand. He sat apart from the others, and his thoughts passed to the events of the previous day. He was aware subconsciously of Veryadan getting up to check on the horses. He himself had found nothing yesterday, which irritated him, but the other two had said trolls. Trolls were one of the few things that Osric was afraid of. A troll could easily rip the sturdiest man to shreds. He had seen that, at Pelennor Fields. Idly he wondered why the creatures which possessed obvious advantages in size, which possessed such savage strength, also had the dullest minds. And it was the word which Osric feared most which jolted him from his thoughts. "Trolls!" Veryadan yelled. He was up and running before he had time to think, lucky that his sword had already been in his hand. Aidwain was running too, bow in hand, and outpacing him with his long legs. Osric froze when he saw the Trolls, sudden fear gripping him. He heard a savage whoop from behind him, and turned to see four orcs advancing. Here was an enemy he was not so reluctant to encounter. There was a knife in Osric's free hand quicker than a man could blink, and it was back out of his hand just as quickly. Blood blossomed in an Orc's throat as Osric's knife struck home. He brandished his sword, hoping that Aidwain could keep the trolls off of Veryadan with his arrows. On came the Orcs. Last edited by Alaksoron; 10-21-2004 at 03:09 PM.