En Dharasha Everae RP thread

[Maverick 40]

The weary elves came down from the Cloud Peaks, it had been a few days since their defeat at the hands of the Drow and their efforts to track the war party that laid them low seemed to offer no leads. Finally, the trio of Axanadros, Shyntyavas and Laisren did give up their search. On their way, they came across a young elven swordsmen set upon by the Hill Giants of the valley.

The swordsman fought furiously but was outnumbered badly, at least until his brethren came to his aid. The giants dispatched, he introduced himself as Dae, an elven swordsman in the most traditional style of warfare. The elves of Dharasha offered him arcane support and Axanadros was set to the task of helping to train the young warrior in fighting giants, while Laisren and She moved for Nashkel.

It was their wish to find reverie before their long and arduous trip back toward the North but on their way to the nearby temple, bloody tracks were led to a house in the nearby hills. Outside the house lie a doomsayer and a wounded villager. The elves had thought they found the Drow and their work before them! Laisren put out a sending to Axanadros to bring Die quickly back to Nashkel.

The elves met, conversed and prepared within the Temple of Helm. Shyn in charge, Alexandros and Dae in tow, they set off while Laisren stayed to take reverie in order to put out a second sending to others. Once inside, the trio of elves stalked the corridors of the house quietly, expecting trouble at any moment and hoping to catch the Drop off guard. What was found caught them off guard, for it was not that which they were prepared for.

Laisren finally ready, set forth and followed the half elven tracks of Axandros through the door of the home. Deep within it's corridors he found Dae seriously wounded and Axan applying healing to the young warrior. "What's the report?", Laisren asked the two as he materialized from the shadows, then another just behind him did the same. "Tanarok", Shyn answered, "and Cultists of demon summoning".

Laisren looked perplexed, he had never fought such diabolic beings before. The elves soon took combat positions, Laisren scouting each room, Dae and Axan waiting in tow, Shyn taking rear guard offering devastating artillery support. They went room to room, dealing with all manner of demon, Succubi, Tanarrouk but nothing prepared them for the center of this terrible home. On the second floor, when they reached a large room, a giant Demon whose terrible stench and putrid nature, caused each elf to wretch as it charged near.

A cultist upon the side of the room, began casting spells upon a giant fiery rift. Laisren, took to the shadows and cut the cultist down, while the brave young warrior Dae stood before the giant beast slashing his beutiful through it's filthy flesh, allowing Shyn and Alexandros to fill the being with countless arrows. It finally succumb to the onslaught and each elf now turned to the giant burning rift. Alexandros, having been schooled well in spellcraft, knew what it was and began firing arrows at the small shrine at it's base. The other elves followed suit and soon the shrine and the rift collapsed in a giant implosion.

The elves stood dirty and scorched but victorious. They continued on, clearing every room in the house of such creatures and diabolical cultists, making sure they would not reopen the rift. They exited the house exhausted and depleted but one last thing needed to be done. The warrior Dae had proved himself without a reasonable doubt, to be brave and resolute in his kin's defense. Laisren moved to inform the young swordsmen of Endarasha purpose and told the elf that they would be honored to have Dae as one of them. Dae accepted and a chapter in the young elf's life now began, for the party would wait no longer to return to their true home in the north. (The Temple of Helm was warned also)

((Thanks everyone who participated, it was fun and a special thanks to DEMogorgon for setting that "cookie" in place for anyone to come across. That was really and truly a wonderful idea. We are blessed to have you as our coordinator and I hope with this post that we honored your idea ))

[mrieder79]

A small group of dwarven runners approach the outskirts of the Misty forest and are quickly met by stern-faced wood elves. Both groups were silent and wary as the message from King Dovkin Battlehammer was passed from the rough craggy hands of the dwarves to the graceful grasp of the wood elf sentries. It was brought before the council and the leaders of the Norther Elves were summoned to participate in the reading.

Greetings honorable Elves of the North,

King Dovkin Battlehammer extends his permission for a delegation representing the Northern Elven Alliance to enter the city of Kraak Helzak to discuss matters of mutual benefit. It is the understanding of the King that members of the Dwarven Nation and members of the Elven Alliance have had occasion for mutual support in recent events since the Orc War. His majesty expresses his hope that a mutually profitable and beneficial understanding can be reached.

King Dovkin Battlehammer

//our weekly guild meeting is at 1100 AM EST (GMT-5). This is the best time to do this RP. If that time is not feasible, we can do it some other time but there will likely be less dwarves present.

[Maverick 40]

Laisren stood atop the bridge of swaying rope and board, the cool breeze blowing against his fair cheeks. He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them to see young elven children playing below. Their mothers watched as they cleaned clothes in the stream and the fathers gathered to strip the meat and gather the harvest from their evening hunt. Mendel and Nai stood by the huts and when they thought others were not watching, rubbed their noses together contentedly. He could here the drunken giddy laughter of Tan and his burly sounding drinking companion Durin.

The Lady Luthien seemed to be given a sermon down by the Druid grove as villagers wondrously gathered and Deacon smoked his small pipe, walking around offering the hungry cheese. Saline was down by the Dala'Haera teaching young women how to use a bow. Many others of his people now seemed to blend so seamlessly into the village that there really could be no distinction. The nervous stares and carefully crafted correspondence had given way to a mutual respect.

Laisren for once in his life felt at ease and safe within the wisdom of his benefactors, at least he wanted to be. No matter how he tried, he could not let his thoughts wander far from the pain and anguish his life had been but at least now, he has these subtle moments to enjoy this peace. Laisren closed his eyes again and he smiled.

[Maverick 40]

Discussing the matters of the village with some of our new members.

[Maverick 40]

The elves of En Dharasha Everae still continue to camp outside the gates of Kraak Helzak Hold. It has been many days now and their provisions have begun to run dry. A party of elves goes out to forage for food but little edible things are to be found, an edible lichen that grows on the rocks by the Fjord, some fish when able to steal away from the migrations of Trolls but not enough to sustain their camp for long.

Shouting, arguing and fighting can be heard echoing from within the tunnels and the elves wish not to frustrate the dwarves further, despite their need for supplies. The elves simply shake their heads and take turns in meditative reverie to avoid the thoughts of their hunger. What possibly could cause such strife over the simple request of ally is causing the elves some dismay but they remain patient and resolute.

[Maverick 40]

Laisren walks the paths of the small village watching all that transpired. The tension of his youth and the troubles of his adulthood seem to fade as he watched the newcomers of Dharasha look on in wonder at the beauty of the village. They come from so many different lands, places and cultures but all recognize the peace and tranquility this village offers. So many of Tel'quessir have been troubled over the recent decade and now they, just like he, had found a place of Sanctuary.

It made him at ease, without reservation, nor concern. The burdens of leadership and responsibility to see the followers of Dharasha to safety seem to have finally evaporated from upon his shoulders. Laisren turned his cowled head as he felt a slight tug upon his cloak. There stood a little wood elven girl, holding a stick the children here used to play games of hurling. She simply stared upon Laisren's terribly scared face, his right eye having been turned to glass by the curse of Lloth. Most of the native villagers were uneasy to view what lay beneath his cowl.

Yet, the little girl stood there with a warm smile upon her face. She turned to her other playmates whom slowly backed away in awe of her, or perhaps fear of Laisren. "See....", she said in elven, "he is kind, no need to be afraid", she told her friends and they slowly crept back toward him. They simply reached out to touch him and the little girl took Laisren's hand and walked him toward the field where they played. The little girl had found a new friend but what she gave Laisren was much greater.

She gave Laisren back a piece of his childhood that he never had, as he played for hours with the children. Laisren had finally found peace here and with it, his soul had been saved from the anger and resentment of his youth. He wondered if this was the blessing of the village, or that of the children? He would honor both for as long as he would live, that he knew was his Dharasha and he was happy.......

[Caleb]

Book of Deacon - Highharvestide

These are the dreaded events preceding the Tiding of Harptos, during the eventful Year of the Spur, on the last day of Eleint and the first of Marpenoth. When the equinox of autumn had passed and the long days of leaf-fall awaited.

A great drought blighted the lands surrounding the city of Baldur's Gate. A land already plagued by numerous troubles. Including war and political strife. The drought proved relentless, with not a rain-stricken respite.

The dry season affected many if not -all- in some way. Efforts were made throughout the year to quell the hunger and starvation. Most of which were in vain. Much to the dismay of the season's benefactors.

Everything from handouts by the noble rich, to relief efforts by noble paladins. But ultimately nothing worked to prevent starvation. The rain did not fall like it does today. The crops would not grow and cattle died. Hope was thin.

Untill...

“Tidings of Harptos,
Are the last days of Eleint,
First day of Marpenoth.”

...That is when the festival of the Highharvestide took place, within the farmlands near Baldur’s Gate. A yearly feast where the bounties of Chauntea are celebrated and handed out. When the sun had faded and the leafs started falling; and the first cold winds swept throughout the valleys.

And while there was little to go around, the people of Baldur's Gate feasted that day, forgetting all about their troubles and pains. Enjoying everything, right down to the very last crumbs on the table.

And their troubles went. For after the Highharvestide, Chauntea blessed the lands and rain poured once more down from the sky. Her blessings followed after she witnessed the festival in her worship; The trust placed in her kindness and prowess.

The drought was finally over.

[mrieder79]

The waves continued their relentless march toward their inevitable doom on the rocky shoreline while the seabirds soared overhead mocking the spectacle of their foamy demise. Small flying insects that flew too close to the edge of the precipice overlooking the sea were swept westward by the irresistable wind into the endless expanse never to return to land again. Tarl Bedoar pulled a sprig of grass from the ground where he sat and threw it up into the air. He watched as the wind took it inexorably and inevitably up and out over the Sea of Swords. It floated high into the air floating and bouncing on the currents and eddies until it was out of sight. He looked out over the expanse and noted how the waters turned from blue-green to azure. Patterns of shadow and light played across the sparkling and shifting surface of the waves. A shaft of resplendent light penetrated a far-off cloudbank and pierced the waters far out to the west. Several dozen lengths to his left a pair of rock marmots wrestled in the grass, squealing and chasing each other in endless circles. In truth, the scene was picturesque, perfect even. Yet Tarl felt nothing. He felt neither good nor bad. He felt no sympathy for the doomed insects and his heart was not warmed by the marmots. He was not moved by the inevitability of the fate of the waves or the splendor of the light playing on the waves. He sat a moment longer, then sighed and stood. He took up his bow and continued his patrol, his inevitable march to death be it his own or that of his foes.

[SeedsOfDoubt]

* Nai can be seen running around looking for Saline and telling the others she has something very important to talk to her about *

[Maverick 40]

Laisren heard the reports, with it all of the hope and joy he held seemed to ebb away. How could this be, such great numbers...., he thought to himself. The once valiant and proud elf that he had been not so long ago, began to dispare. It was not the enemy that caused him this but rather it was his own happiness. He had thought these moments of respite would last, if not forever, then at least for some time.

Their gravest of enemies seemed intent to follow them into these northern lands and the very people he now resided with had no idea the great devastation the enemy of Corellon's children would bring. Now, it was but the humans whom would pay the great cost in lives as Laisren, against all his great inclination of anger and terror, was forced to command his people to stand down from the looming battle. The battle that would decide wether his enemies would entrench themselves within the lands his people had hoped to travel freely, the battle that may decide the fate of many of those whom he called ally in the war to defend his people in the south.

He saw the bristling anger within Tarl's eyes and Laisren once again began to feel the same shame he had felt of his father. What could he do, would he allow his people, the Dharashans, to forsake the wishes of the Elders and meet their sworn enemy in battle, or would he stay true to his word to abide the ones whom had offered them safety and survival when they were lost. Laisren looked down at hsi hands and remembered picking up and carrying the dead bodies of his followers. Those whom died in the fort by the river, at the hands of those beasts who now begin to swarm toward the town of Triel.

His anger welled, his dispare increased and a great storm brewed within the core of his being. It was not over for him, it would never be over, he thought. He stood, motioned two moon elven women to his side. They marched toward the Hall and so it seems, the di would be cast once more.........

[mrieder79]

Tarl leaves for his usually appointed patrol route, but a careful observer would notice he had taken more provisions and more fletchings than was his custom. He smiled warmly and said farewell to many of his friends before leaving.

[SeedsOfDoubt]

*When good intentions go very bad*

* Nai was heard yesterday exclaiming to Laisren, Mendel and the others gathered in the gazebo warming themselves by the fire in Nashkel, that she will fight the Orcs to save Misty Forest from the same fate that she witnessed over 120 years earlier to her own village deep in the forest of Sharp Teeth. She explained to them that she watched as her entire family and friends were slaughtered and her village burned to the ground before her own eyes by the vile beasts. She couldn't bare the thought of it happening again.. not now, not after she finally has a family again. Even if it meant she had to leave Misty Forest to do it. She was willing to sacrifice herself to save them all, knowing the decry of the Elders prevented them from doing it themselves.

Her caring but missguided plan angered Laisren.. he tried to reason with her but she stood firm trying to explain herself to him. Her love for her new family... the fear that history would repeat itself and her utter hatred of the Orcs blinding her to the consequences of her words... then she saw his face... his eyes red as he lowered his head looking at the ground...

The reality of her rash decision came crashing down upon her when she saw the look on Mendel's face, the hurt in his eyes and heard it in his voice as he spoke to her while she sobbed crumpled at his feet. He asked how she could do this without even speaking to him first... then he said it... he fealt like it was betrayal after all the work, blood, sweat and tears that went into obtaining a home for the elves he loved so dearly... and his love for her, putting him in a place he never thought he'd have to be... between them.

His words cut like a hot knife slicing through the very heart of her... she screamed out " NO !!" She never meant it like that.. "Nai do it to Save Mendel... to Save Misty... to Save village!!... no want to lose thems again! " She pleaded at his feet. " Tell Nai no go.. tell Nai no go! " She tried to make him say it. He then said to her softly with hurt in his voice... " I shouldn't have to Nai ".

She blinked a few times as her mind cleared hearing his words and her eyes widened like a lamp lighting up out of no where. Looking up into his eyes, she stood up shaking like a leaf, and nearly ready to pass out from the stress of it all. " Nai no go.. Nai no go!...Nai choose Mendel... Nai sorry.. Nai sorry " She said over and over as he grabbed her to steady her. She knew she hurt him as she sobbed in his arms. " Nai loves him more than Nai own life Mendel.. Nai sorry.."

They talked some more as they traveled back to Misty Forest. He explained to her how hard it was to get to where they were today and that he plans to live there, marry there, have children there... and probably die there. She listens as his words came from the heart and him saying how much he loved her calmed her a bit but she knew she'd messed up this time.

... The animalistic side of her slowly fadeing with each passing day with each lesson in the life of an elven girl... this is one day she will never forget. *

[flipside43]

*Uriel sends runners out to all available Knights and Squires, as well as the leaders of Kraak Helzak, En Dharasha, the Radiant Heart, the Druids Circle and Doron Amar.*

We will be holding an emergency meeting this evening at the Keep to discuss our course of action against the encroaching Black Orcs marching towards Triel. We formally invite the leadership of each of our allies to attend. If the leadership is unable to attend they may appoint a representative to speak upon their behalf.

Uriel Honorblade
Paladin of Torm
Knight General, Order of the Silver Rose

///edit: 7:30 PM EST

[Maverick 40]

"This can not be.....", he thought. His people's worst nightmare had come true and he had done nothing to prevent the inevitable death and destruction that was about to befall them. An arrow still notched in bow, the scene before him unfurled slowly. The bare fanged orcs charging up the hill, the massive war trolls trampling the farms below, all this no longer mattered for he saw the instrument of the defenders downfall.

He stared at the human crossbowmen, he wore the same black and red as those the he had fought once before. "No......", he thought but then he felt the presence of one Orc nearing him and he willed himself into shadow, disappearing before the swipe of the axe meant for him. He moved back to his people positioned to strike. As he moved, the world around seemed as if running behind him, for his mind now raced for answers.

"What....how....can...", the questions ran through his mind when he reached them. Shaded elven figures, the embodiment of death, unseen, their bowstrings drawn and ready to loose a volley made to take the charge of dozens of orcs and put them in their graves. He spoke to command their position, "The Zhentarim, they have taken the fort, I need you to move......." he yelled with the intention of standing his people down but the younger elves ran beyond the archers line and into the thick of battle.

"Hold the line!!!!', Laisren yelled as he chased after them but it was to late, the dance of death had already begun. Bodies flew, orchish and human blood seemed to splatter like heavy drops of rain upon the dry earth. There was no longer time to think. He marked, drew, fired, marked, drew and fired again in rapid succession. He aimed back at the fort as he saw many of the defenders had nought seen the mercenary crossbowmen who dared show their faces at the entrance. Several of these crossbowman fell but they were still raining terror down upon the unsuspecting defenders. Then Laisren heard and felt the rumble of the Orcs main body rush for the defenders line. They were caught in a battle on two fronts and risked loosing the whole of their battalion.

"Fall back!!!!", Laisren screamed at the top of his lungs, waving desperately at his people to move for the northern bridge. Then he felt the warm sun's rays turn into a cool breeze. He turned to see the massive war trolls overtaking the hill and blotting out the sun itself. He screamed again, though he could not tell you now what he said. He grabbed his people as he ran for the bridge throwing them forward. "There, form a line there!!!", he yelled to them while pointing at the northern edge of the stone pillar bridge.

Laisren turned to see the War Trolls Trampling dwarves and human barbarians alike. He then saw an Orc Standing atop piles of dead bodies both Orc and Human alike, giving commands and pointing at the northern bridge. Laisren looked up and saw the Trolls but twenty paces from their position and hastening their pace. There was no more time to think, his instincts took over.

Laisren fell into shadow, gliding between the giant beasts as the moved forward past the behemoths. Three giant war trolls alone would have been able to easily batter down the palisades of this human fortress but this no longer plagued Laisren's mind. How were they going to survive was the only thought now. He waited till they were ten paces from the bridge, twenty from the defenders, amongst whom he saw the being Deacon, Valge Kylm and others casting their magics in preparation.

Laisren did the same, as he spoke the words to hasten his movement and drew back his bowstring. He let fly a volley of fire laiden arrows that struck the last troll. The arrows seem to simply crumple upon impact, splashing fire upon it's back but having little effect upon the beast. It did turn and took a massive swipe at Laisren. He moved before it's giant fist came smashing down upon the earth behind him. The ground beneath Laisren's feet seemed to roll like a wave from the shock of the impact behind him.

He ran back for the Orcish forces, while continuing to fire volleys of arrows at the beast. Then he threw the bow upon his back, turned at the southern edge of the village and let loose a spell that set the beast aflame. This did hurt the creature, for it cried out in pain and it's movements became erratic. It swung out at orcs and humans alike, batting them about like toys but remaining fixated upon Laisren. As it finally moved into position to strike, drawing both of it's fists high into the air, Laisren turned once more into shadow dissapeared from sight.

He felt the great implosion just behind him and felt the debris of both earth and materials from a human cottage rain down around him. Laisren did not stop to look, he had to get back to his people. He hoped he had bought them some time, he prayed they were still there, holding the bridge. What he found was nearly impossible to imagine.

He saw the two remaining Trolls screeching and screaming as they fought to maintain their balance and trudge threw giant webs cast down upon the bridge. The defenders were holding their ground, the beasts seemed angered and confused but maintaining their mindless pursuit, bent on destroying those who stood before them. Laisren moved silently through the carnage, unable to move quickly for fear of being spotted by Orcish warriors whom seemed now content to mutilate the last of the defenders before the fort.

Laisren was made step over the broken bodies of his allies which were littered everywhere. He saw the daughter of the Mayor of Gullykin, the halflling whom had offered them sanctuary not so long ago. Missy Luckyfoot's face was bloody and her back contorted into a position that made him uneasy. He looked quickly around, what he saw was utter madness. Orcs desperate to regain control of the rampaging War Troll, the Orcish Commander now seeming to rush forth in a blood frenzy upon the the mercenaries of the fort.

Laisren grabbed Missy, drug her body out of the field and then ran for the bridge with all his speed. The War Trolls were nearing the end of the bridge and moving upon the defenders who began to draw back. He dropped Missy, pulled forth his bow and fired upon one of the beasts who turned to look back at him. He drew again and fired to strafe the beast, his sight was now being drawn between the two trolls though. The first giant troll continued to move forward, the second now stayed to fixate on Laisren and thus drawing distance between them.

It was then that Laisren had seen the siloutte of a slender figure flit between the legs of the first. Laisren strained his good eye to see who it was but the distance was too far. He seemed then to take courage as he saw this slender elven woman step forth from the shadows to strike her blades upon the creatures achilles. Laisren felt his teeth grit and his jaw clench, a sudden determination overcame him. The defenders of the bridge fought for their lives, they fought for their positions, they fought with all their honor and might.

Laisren cast forth two spells, one to slow the second war troll and the other to the ground which it stood. He then let loose arrows as many as he could fly, each striking with near certainty but still with little effect. He then watched as the defenders gained the upper hand, bleeding the first troll just enough to drop it and finish it in a massive blast of acid. The acid scorched the wooden structure the defenders now stood on but the beast body fell into a heap of molten goo and Laisren thought he might have heard cheers go up.

This would be short lived.................

((to be continued))

[Maverick 40]

This victory would be short lived, as the dead Troll's companion let out a great cry which echoed across the valley. It no longer cared for Laisren and trudged on with a renewed vigor that was powered by it's want of vengeance. The defenders quickly scrambled back, their casters must have near been out of spells Laisren thought as he ran blindly for the beast. Before he could reach the giant war engine, the elven woman reappeared again, slashing upon it's hind quarter.

"Nooo....!!!!!', Laisren yelled for he saw the beast begin to swing it's giant arm back across the bridge but it was too late, the woman was crushed beneath the impact just ten feet before his eyes. The troll continued on with little care for the inconvenience but Laisren's senses became numb and he could scarce feel his feet hitting the ground as he ran to her body. He looked down to see the elven woman's body broken and twisted. Blood pooled beneath her head as it ran from her mouth, nose and ears.

A kind of rage overcame this stoic and battle hardened elf. Not because he had not seen, nor lost kin in battle before, but because of the senseless violence this creature represented. It existed only to extinguish the lives of all his people and would do so with such impunity. A great madness welled within Laisren.

He cursed out the words of a spell as much as spoke them and his body slowly turned to moving stone. The beast had continued on, pushing the defenders back into the orchards beyond the wooden bridge. They scrambled forth desperately firing volleys of arrows but retreating further back as the war troll overturned trees and loosed boulders in it's pursuit.

Laisren began to sprint, building up as much momentum as he could. Pulling forth the two elven short blades from their holsters as he neared, he lunged and drove the first blade deep the beasts giants hamstring. The behemoth turned and swung. Laisren's reflexes were slowed and he could not dodge in time. The it's adamantine clad fist struck square into his stone chest and he winced from the tremendous force. It knocked him back a few yards and took the air from his lungs.

Laisren, pulled his senses together just in time to see the armored War Troll standing over him holding a large boulder in both it's hands. There was no time, he simply gritted his teeth and stared malevolently back at the creature. His last thought was not to give this creature the dignity.

Then suddenly he heard in elven, "Move!!" and from out of the shadows Mendel struck. The wood elf ran from the creatures leg and leaped, slashing his sword with all his might against the creatures armored wrist. The beast screamed out in anger and dropped the boulder. Laisren moved just as the boulder was to crash down upon him, moving to take distance. He looked back to see the Troll swat at Mendel, tumbling the Ranger yards behind the monster.

Laisren, gripped his blades and dashed back toward the monster, desperate to get to the beast before it were to reach his friend. Suddenly a volley of arrows shot out from the right of the creature struck into it's wrist. The beast screamed out in pure agony, stopping to look at it's hand as it slowly disintegrated from the acid the arrows were laced with . It seems Mendel's strike loosed the chains which had connected it's armor, exposing it's flesh and when Laisren looked to where the arrows were shot there stood Shyntavayas, nodding from underneath her hood.

Laisren took a moment to survey the field, he saw that his Mendel was in fact safe as the druidess Valge Kym was at his side, helping to heal him and getting him to stand. Deacon, the mysterious one, cast torrents of acid toward the creature, maintaining it's attention enough that Laisren saw his opportunity to strike. He hasted his movements and ran for beast. He struck at the leather that held it's armor in place, helping to expose it's one leg and then tumbling safely away from it's strike.

Shynt, struck again and the beast was felled, it's shin and foot a mass of emulating flesh but it continued to lurch forth to strike at those whom dared get to close. The defenders were now to smart, Laisren pulled his bow and took aim at the creature. It's began to crumple beneath the defenders constant assault. It fell forward, it's breathing becoming labored as if it's own weight had begun to crush it. Deacon reached up to the sky and drew down a stream of acid. The beast and all the land around it was instantly destroyed.

The defenders then heard yet another roar from the distance and they quickly gathered themselves together at the center of the field, tired and exhausted. The final War Troll had come and it had seen the death of it's kin. The defenders stood silent for a moment, when the smallest of their number, Deacon ran forth before the behemoth and moved to cast a spell.

The creature having already seen Deacon's power did not hesitate. It closed with all it's speed while deacon still cast, kicked the fey creature and launched Deacon into the air. "OOWWWIEEE....", was all the defenders could hear as Deacon flew overhead. They watched him land dozens of yards away, many of them already beginning to run for Deacon but Valge stopped them. She waved her hand telling them to stop and slowly began walking toward Deacon to aid him.

The defenders knew what she had intended and they all turned with a renewed vigor, griping their blades and gritting their teeth as the behemoth closed in. No word need be spoken between them, this beast was only one and they were many. They began their dance of death, moving in slashing, piercing, exposing it's flesh and darting away from different directions. The archers sitting down and finding their targets as the creature wheeled around confused. They were not running any more, they were not afraid of this beast, they were going to make their stand.

The creatures armor lying tattered and in shreds, it began to falter and the elven swordsmen including Laisren climbed atop the beast and struck down. Mendel's blows left gaping wounds that began no longer to heal and finally Laisren called forth the power of his god, lighting aflame his sword. He stood before the slowly dying beast, the flame lighting it's malevolent eyes. He drove his elven short blade through the creatures iris up to his wrist and twisted, feeling the last of it's might falter as it collapsed.

Deacon, aided by Valge Kym, stepped forth to ensure the beast would not return and as the defenders slowly stepped away still panting in heavy breaths, Deacon emulated the beast where lay. The defenders now near the point of exhaustion, moved slowly back toward the North Bridge and saw the fate of their companions. The Dharashan's greatest fear was realized, as the Orcs scoured the fields before them, the bodies of their kin washing down upon the river's tide.

Laisren's anger was never greater.