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Story Hour
Of Fey and Shadow - A Midnight story hour (Restored 14 May 2006)
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<blockquote data-quote="Emiricol" data-source="post: 1942149" data-attributes="member: 469"><p>The Orc reached down and, with one deft and callous motion, sliced the ear from the twitching Oruk at his feet and calmly put it in his beltpouch, then looked apprehensively about. <em>The Third Tusk is dying, and he is the only one who has ever heard the Legate Whisper. Perhaps the magic is in his ear. When I get to the glen, it will tell me what to do.</em> His decision made, the Orc moved out east among the trees and found a path just ahead that might enable him to sneak unseen away from the ambushers who were slaughtering the rest of his group even now. He moved off at a fast pace, hunched down to present the smallest profile he could.</p><p> </p><p> Carith gazed out at the battle beginning before him and began to move in. <em>The archers can handle the charging orcs. I'll handle the one going for the Glen myself.</em> Throwing his pack and bow off his shoulder he dropped into a quick run, <em>Raseri Styrke</em> the blade of his ancestors, coming free of its scabard as he ran. The longsword had been crafted using techniques now lost to the Dorn in a time before Shadow ruled his homeland, and it had never met its match in battle according to all the family legends.</p><p> </p><p> Carith breathed somewhat heavily as he kept rough pace with the fleeing Orc, never losing sight of the creature's back but also unable to close with it. He would not have been able to keep the pace up for long; fortunately, his prey came to a halt abruptly after bursting through the treeline to stand on the southern edge of a moderately sized pond of the purest clarity. Despite the forest, there were no leaves or debris in the water, and the entire area had an otherwordly feel. A Fey place of power, throught Carith with as much excitement as concern; every fiber of his being longed to rest in this tranquil place, for it felt like home - a thing he had not felt in quite some time.</p><p> </p><p> The orc, hearing the Man still behind him, slowly turned to face the approaching Carith, drawing at the same time his massive Vardach, a heavy falchion-like blade meant for two hands and Orcish strength. He grinned after a brief glance about, but it was not a friendly expression. <span style="color: Red">"Northslave, I'll have your meat tonight to feast upon. I will cook it over the fires of the burning woods, your blood drained first into the pool to drive out the spirit of the Shadow that resides there. That power is not for Men or Elf, Infidel."</span> His voice dripped with religious fervor. It stepped lightly on the balls of its feat, slowly approaching Carith inexorably. There would be no time for arrows in this fight.</p><p> </p><p> Carith kept his blade steady as he dropped into a low defensive stance and advanced towards the Orc .<span style="color: Red">"I am no one's slave, weakling. Now show me what little courage you have, for the time for talking is over."</span></p><p> </p><p> The orc stepped forward with murder in his eyes and swung high and fast, hoping to end the fight quickly but unwilling to commit heavily to the attack yet. Carith stepped up to meet him and swung his own sword high to deflect the attack. The ringing of steel echoed through out the sacred pond as the blades met and with a grunt Carith pushed the Orc backwards. He then launched a probing strike at the orc's midsection, but he saw it coming and knocked the Man's longsword aside with ease.</p><p> </p><p> Realizing the Orc's momentum, Carith took a step back and raised his blade once more. The orc swung high again, but much weaker this time. With a sudden surge of strength Carith knocked the swing aside and pivoted hard to his left, using the energy from the deflection to help propel his sword at the orc's belly once again. </p><p> </p><p> The orc was no slouch, and faster than he looked. His Vardatch found itself right where it needed to be to parry the man's attack and, before Carith had a chance to recover fully, he swung the Vardach upwards in what would have been a devastating uppercut if not for the keen balance of <em>Raseri Styrke</em> and the skill of the Man behind it. </p><p> </p><p> Catching the blow low Carith tried to push the orc away once more, but the shadow creature's strength prevailed. Raising his Vardatch again, the orc lashed out, taking advantage of the Man's momentary awkward position. Carith parried, but the blow merely glanced upward, catching Carith square in the ribs and nearly knocking the young woodsman from his feet.</p><p> </p><p> Carith thought for a moment that the fight was over, but a glance down showed that his life had been spared only by his armor, which now had a number of deformed links that would require mending. <em>Better the armor than the Man.</em> Gritting his teeth he stared into the eyes of the orc and snarled the best he could in its tongue, having after all no tusks, <span style="color: Red">"I've been hit harder by children and goblins, and you pretend to be the Shadow's favorites?"</span></p><p> </p><p> The orc roared with rage, swinging his vardatch up at Carith's head. While his blow was powerful, it was ill-timed and Carith stopped it with little more than a thought, launching his own counter attack with a quick slash out across the orc’s body. Off balance then from his miss-aimed blow the orc tried to raise his blade to parry, but the strike came too fast and before he could get into position the Man's keen longsword met the top of his head from front to back, shattering bone in an instant. The Orc dropped instantly, bleeding profusely from his deep head wound.</p><p> </p><p> Breathing heavily from the short fight, Carith griped <em>Raseri Styrke</em> tightly and thrusted it deep into the chest of the Orc, finishing it off. Using one hand to wipe the sweat from his brow he glanced about the clearning, for the first time taking in the sight of the place that had called to him in his dreams for days now.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Emiricol, post: 1942149, member: 469"] The Orc reached down and, with one deft and callous motion, sliced the ear from the twitching Oruk at his feet and calmly put it in his beltpouch, then looked apprehensively about. [i]The Third Tusk is dying, and he is the only one who has ever heard the Legate Whisper. Perhaps the magic is in his ear. When I get to the glen, it will tell me what to do.[/i] His decision made, the Orc moved out east among the trees and found a path just ahead that might enable him to sneak unseen away from the ambushers who were slaughtering the rest of his group even now. He moved off at a fast pace, hunched down to present the smallest profile he could. Carith gazed out at the battle beginning before him and began to move in. [i]The archers can handle the charging orcs. I'll handle the one going for the Glen myself.[/i] Throwing his pack and bow off his shoulder he dropped into a quick run, [i]Raseri Styrke[/i] the blade of his ancestors, coming free of its scabard as he ran. The longsword had been crafted using techniques now lost to the Dorn in a time before Shadow ruled his homeland, and it had never met its match in battle according to all the family legends. Carith breathed somewhat heavily as he kept rough pace with the fleeing Orc, never losing sight of the creature's back but also unable to close with it. He would not have been able to keep the pace up for long; fortunately, his prey came to a halt abruptly after bursting through the treeline to stand on the southern edge of a moderately sized pond of the purest clarity. Despite the forest, there were no leaves or debris in the water, and the entire area had an otherwordly feel. A Fey place of power, throught Carith with as much excitement as concern; every fiber of his being longed to rest in this tranquil place, for it felt like home - a thing he had not felt in quite some time. The orc, hearing the Man still behind him, slowly turned to face the approaching Carith, drawing at the same time his massive Vardach, a heavy falchion-like blade meant for two hands and Orcish strength. He grinned after a brief glance about, but it was not a friendly expression. [Color=Red]"Northslave, I'll have your meat tonight to feast upon. I will cook it over the fires of the burning woods, your blood drained first into the pool to drive out the spirit of the Shadow that resides there. That power is not for Men or Elf, Infidel."[/Color] His voice dripped with religious fervor. It stepped lightly on the balls of its feat, slowly approaching Carith inexorably. There would be no time for arrows in this fight. Carith kept his blade steady as he dropped into a low defensive stance and advanced towards the Orc .[Color=Red]"I am no one's slave, weakling. Now show me what little courage you have, for the time for talking is over."[/Color] The orc stepped forward with murder in his eyes and swung high and fast, hoping to end the fight quickly but unwilling to commit heavily to the attack yet. Carith stepped up to meet him and swung his own sword high to deflect the attack. The ringing of steel echoed through out the sacred pond as the blades met and with a grunt Carith pushed the Orc backwards. He then launched a probing strike at the orc's midsection, but he saw it coming and knocked the Man's longsword aside with ease. Realizing the Orc's momentum, Carith took a step back and raised his blade once more. The orc swung high again, but much weaker this time. With a sudden surge of strength Carith knocked the swing aside and pivoted hard to his left, using the energy from the deflection to help propel his sword at the orc's belly once again. The orc was no slouch, and faster than he looked. His Vardatch found itself right where it needed to be to parry the man's attack and, before Carith had a chance to recover fully, he swung the Vardach upwards in what would have been a devastating uppercut if not for the keen balance of [i]Raseri Styrke[/i] and the skill of the Man behind it. Catching the blow low Carith tried to push the orc away once more, but the shadow creature's strength prevailed. Raising his Vardatch again, the orc lashed out, taking advantage of the Man's momentary awkward position. Carith parried, but the blow merely glanced upward, catching Carith square in the ribs and nearly knocking the young woodsman from his feet. Carith thought for a moment that the fight was over, but a glance down showed that his life had been spared only by his armor, which now had a number of deformed links that would require mending. [i]Better the armor than the Man.[/i] Gritting his teeth he stared into the eyes of the orc and snarled the best he could in its tongue, having after all no tusks, [Color=Red]"I've been hit harder by children and goblins, and you pretend to be the Shadow's favorites?"[/color] The orc roared with rage, swinging his vardatch up at Carith's head. While his blow was powerful, it was ill-timed and Carith stopped it with little more than a thought, launching his own counter attack with a quick slash out across the orc’s body. Off balance then from his miss-aimed blow the orc tried to raise his blade to parry, but the strike came too fast and before he could get into position the Man's keen longsword met the top of his head from front to back, shattering bone in an instant. The Orc dropped instantly, bleeding profusely from his deep head wound. Breathing heavily from the short fight, Carith griped [i]Raseri Styrke[/i] tightly and thrusted it deep into the chest of the Orc, finishing it off. Using one hand to wipe the sweat from his brow he glanced about the clearning, for the first time taking in the sight of the place that had called to him in his dreams for days now. [/QUOTE]
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