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[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.

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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......

[omnilicious]

Two oaths broken along with his body, Borbag finds it difficult to muster the will to pull himself out of the river. Worst of all, Lucky (his mule) is lost to the Black Orcs. With these failures, he tarnishes Torm and on arrival to the Order strips himself of armor and prays for guidance as his wound continues to bleed; one of the medics trying to bandage it while the half-orc remains kneeling before the altar.

A day passes and Borbag leaves the altar determined to atone for his failures, but falls over unconscious as he tries to stand.

Sometimes faith isn't enough by itself.

[Hoihe]

[Moved post to Fall of Triel. it fits there better. - Hoihe]))