As expected, plans were set. . .strategies discussed, and high hopes of valor voiced. Adventurers had battled The Black Orcs ever since they had first arrived, though most had forgotten the first defeats and lives lost. They had forgotten the violence in the dark, the seemingly unstoppable advances of the hardened beasts. They required defenses, consolidation of numbers, and brute force. . .not clever plans.
When the orcs attacked it was sudden, the offered defense was hasty and without a higher coordination. Some political factions went to their claimed positions, but the field before the gates turned into a violent melee of adventurers against the orcs. The advancing orcs butchered any adventurer foolish enough to press their ranks, and battered at those who held together. . . .
Stepping over the bodies of many who ran forward, Thedran met the wave of Orcs that rushed from the east. His shield braced against his shoulder, when he met with the orcs the clash of arms was titanic. He had fought the beasts as a lad, he knew their strengths and played to their weakness. They were mighty, they were savage, and they were as close to fearless as one may come. The brute force of their attacks could turn back the defenses of those unprepared to meet them, and those lacking the training to confront them.
"This is your -Honor-, bear it with pride and never lay it down. It shall preserve you, if you preserve it."
The speech he had received when Zacho had bestowed the stone he had carried for so long. . over one hundred pounds of torment.
The orcs were strong, and they were savage, and neither would save them from the strength of
The Rock. He was among the strongest of The Coast, his physical strength having matched and undone balors and giants alike. On they pressed, one. . .two, five and more. Their savage swings clanging against the braced shield. Sparks flew in the song of the battle, and the shouts of the combatants was drowned out in the song of steel. On they pressed, but unlike the beasts they were, Thedran was a hardened soldier. They were talented in violence, he was -trained- in it. His sword swung in a practiced rhythm, slicing at any enemy foolish enough to press him. His strokes never left him exposed, and his feet kept a strong marching pace to keep his weight perfectly balanced against the surging pressure of the orc attack.
Forward they came, mounting into a horde. Thedran smiled grimly. .
"Good help is so hard to find"
Was his thought as the first blast issued forth from over his shoulder, one of his few friends and valuable ally was behind him. Lillith was a warlock, and the months and years they had grown to know each other had built a bond and understanding. If Thedran could stop it in it's tracks, Lillith would render it to a pile of ash. The blasts took the orcs full in the front, bouncing between the now helpless beasts as Thedran continued to hold the front. For each sword stroke, came the displays of Lillith's prowess crashing into the ranks of their enemies.
As the fodder wave was dispatched, Thedran heard the rumble of the approaching vanguard. He braced as the orcs rushed forward to envelop the remaining defenders on the eastern flank. Those not pushed back by the orcs, retreated quickly from the trio of massive trolls that scaled the ridge!
Thedran pulled up his shield, and was struck soundly across it sending him reeling back. His with his ears still ringing he side stepped the follow on blow that was to end his life.
"Lillith!"
He bellowed his friend's name, while trying to stagger free of the trap he was in. The trolls had surrounded him and he would not survive the three brutes battering him without better position.
"Run!"
He ordered her back, to flee if she thought it was the right time. He managed to scramble back a few feet while ducking another blow. He glanced at the troll that swung at him, only in time to be struck by the third. He caught the blow full in the ribs, he heard his armor crunch and his ribs cracking under the pressure of the blow. Through the blood running over his eyes he saw Lillith unleash a blast into his attacker's face, she was with him. Battered and drooling blood, Thedran had managed to gain his better ground. The fight was on.. . .
He turned and fought the trio of trolls, he managed to avoid many of the blows but he was battered to his knees more then once. The blood from his mouth was garbling many of the names he tried to recite, his armor and shield again and again took blows that he was sure would be the end of him. His three enemies swung and smashed at him, clearly trying to dispatch the "Food" that dared defied their might. He struggled against their efforts, defiantly challenging the trio of trolls. It seemed to drag on, the blows of the trolls smashing his armor and shield, but they did so at a cost. Each time they swung at Thedran, Lillith's response answered them in kind. The burning acid working it's way over their bodies mercilessly. Bit by bit the trolls were brought to the ground, until all three lay smoldering into piles of smoking goo.
Thedran staggered free of the site, and leaned on his knees beside his friend. After a moment, he spat out two teeth, and a stream of warm blood. He straightened and inspected his armor. It would need repairing, the rents and dents it the mirthril testified to fury of the attack. He could stand, but he was under no disillusions that he would be "fine" when the attack ended.
Just as the pair were regrouping, the second wave crashed onto the ridge and swept away the remaining defenses. The bandit's behind had ripped to deep a tear into the defenders to recover from before the orcs simply over ran their positions with sheer numbers. Thedran intercepted the charge from the south, though in his weakened state his merely managed to slow the surging attack. . .as he took the final blow of a fist to his drooping head he slumped to the ground and slide down the hill. . .
), Shyntvayas, Valge, Laisren aaaand tiny Deacon on the bridge.
))