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<blockquote data-quote="Breakstone" data-source="post: 720703" data-attributes="member: 481"><p><strong><span style="font-size: 12px">Chapter Five- Part 1</span> </strong></p><p><strong>The Bandits' Surprise...</strong></p><p></p><p>“Hold your ground!” Keith’s thunderous voice combined with the roar of the rain as the storm pounded the ground, churning the soil into a sea of mud.</p><p></p><p>Oizuk, the bandit leader, raised his scythe in the air. The keen blade reflected the torchlight of the village. With a deafening roar, he cried, “Attack!”</p><p></p><p>The bandits charged.</p><p></p><p>The horsemen reached the catapult first, thrusting their shortswords through villager flesh. Hay spilled unto the muddy grass. “False humans!” he hollered.</p><p></p><p>The townsfolk had only been able to build one catapult, positioned near the middle of the village. A faulty version had been put together hastily, and placed at the front of the battle, with scarecrow villagers situated in attacking positions. The dud had worked.</p><p></p><p>An arrow whistled through the air, striking a horseman in the shoulder. The half-orc flew off his mount and splashed into a puddle, only to be trampled by charging bandit boots. Bryant reached for another arrow, and began bellowing a battle song, loud enough for the entire village to hear.</p><p></p><p>Arudan and Uel met glances, each quenching their fear with a single nod. But Arudan was still nervous (not that he’d admit that to any of his companions, of course). “All right men, ready your rocks. Let’s hope one of the bandits falls for our surprise.” The two villagers joining him in the tower shared nervous grins.</p><p></p><p>Oizuk kicked his horse’s flank, forcing it into a heavy gallop. Four bandits followed after him, short swords drawn. All five broke into a sprint- straight for Keith.</p><p></p><p>“Hold your position, men,” Keith commanded the three spearmen behind him as the five bandits rushed towards them, only sixty feet away. “Hold it…”</p><p></p><p>Forty feet.</p><p></p><p>“Not yet…”</p><p></p><p>Twenty feet.</p><p></p><p>“Ready…”</p><p></p><p>Five feet.</p><p></p><p>“NOW!”</p><p></p><p>Keith, muscles knotted in tension, swung with his heavy flail, shattering the closest bandit’s jaw. Two villagers thrusted with their spears, stabbing Oizuk in the chest and leg. Oizuk growled deep in his throat as lightning streaked across the sky, silhouetting the bandit leader. He swung down with his war scythe, a symbol of death gleaming in the rain. Keith attempted to raise his shield in defense, but it was too late. The blade touched the flesh of his neck, cold steel raising goosebumps, then with a quick pull carved deep into his throat.</p><p></p><p>Keith’s breath was blockaded by a wave of blood that gushed out his mouth and through the wound in his neck. He gasped vainly once more, but lost his balance, slipping in the mud with suddenly numb legs. He did not feel his back hit the ground. He did not feel the rain hitting his eyes.</p><p></p><p>All was black.</p><p></p><p>With a barking laugh, Oizuk raced towards the center of town, two bandits in tow. Thunder shook heavens and earth. A bolt of lighting, a behemoth existing for all but a blink of an eye, crashed into the forest, leaving charred bandits and tongues of flame in its departing. Arudan stared with silent fear at the limp form of his companion, protector, and friend, then whipped his head back towards the battlefield. Keith was dead. Mourning would come later. Right now, he had a town to defend.</p><p></p><p>A single half-orc was left on the northern front, although Arudan’s keen elven eyes picked up the shadowy forms of three more in the forest. The solo bandit grinned back at the weaponless Arudan in the tower, showing filed teeth. He stepped forward into the ring of brush surrounding the tower and, with a startled cry, vanished. Leaning over the side, Arudan chuckled at the half-orc, sprawled at the bottom of the ten foot pit. The bandit seemed unharmed, but not for long. Arudan released a bottle of oil, which crashed and shattered over the helmeted head of the half-orc. It stood, spine curved back to allow a snarl at the pesky elf. But the elf was holding another object, something that was… burning.</p><p></p><p>And indeed, the elven tindertwig exuded a soft glow upon Arudan’s smooth face. Arudan grinned, and released the flame, which twirled towards the oil-soaked orc, smoldering in the night.</p><p></p><p>There was a roar, like that of a pouncing predator, and then silence from the pit below.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Breakstone, post: 720703, member: 481"] [B][SIZE=3]Chapter Five- Part 1[/SIZE] The Bandits' Surprise...[/B] “Hold your ground!” Keith’s thunderous voice combined with the roar of the rain as the storm pounded the ground, churning the soil into a sea of mud. Oizuk, the bandit leader, raised his scythe in the air. The keen blade reflected the torchlight of the village. With a deafening roar, he cried, “Attack!” The bandits charged. The horsemen reached the catapult first, thrusting their shortswords through villager flesh. Hay spilled unto the muddy grass. “False humans!” he hollered. The townsfolk had only been able to build one catapult, positioned near the middle of the village. A faulty version had been put together hastily, and placed at the front of the battle, with scarecrow villagers situated in attacking positions. The dud had worked. An arrow whistled through the air, striking a horseman in the shoulder. The half-orc flew off his mount and splashed into a puddle, only to be trampled by charging bandit boots. Bryant reached for another arrow, and began bellowing a battle song, loud enough for the entire village to hear. Arudan and Uel met glances, each quenching their fear with a single nod. But Arudan was still nervous (not that he’d admit that to any of his companions, of course). “All right men, ready your rocks. Let’s hope one of the bandits falls for our surprise.” The two villagers joining him in the tower shared nervous grins. Oizuk kicked his horse’s flank, forcing it into a heavy gallop. Four bandits followed after him, short swords drawn. All five broke into a sprint- straight for Keith. “Hold your position, men,” Keith commanded the three spearmen behind him as the five bandits rushed towards them, only sixty feet away. “Hold it…” Forty feet. “Not yet…” Twenty feet. “Ready…” Five feet. “NOW!” Keith, muscles knotted in tension, swung with his heavy flail, shattering the closest bandit’s jaw. Two villagers thrusted with their spears, stabbing Oizuk in the chest and leg. Oizuk growled deep in his throat as lightning streaked across the sky, silhouetting the bandit leader. He swung down with his war scythe, a symbol of death gleaming in the rain. Keith attempted to raise his shield in defense, but it was too late. The blade touched the flesh of his neck, cold steel raising goosebumps, then with a quick pull carved deep into his throat. Keith’s breath was blockaded by a wave of blood that gushed out his mouth and through the wound in his neck. He gasped vainly once more, but lost his balance, slipping in the mud with suddenly numb legs. He did not feel his back hit the ground. He did not feel the rain hitting his eyes. All was black. With a barking laugh, Oizuk raced towards the center of town, two bandits in tow. Thunder shook heavens and earth. A bolt of lighting, a behemoth existing for all but a blink of an eye, crashed into the forest, leaving charred bandits and tongues of flame in its departing. Arudan stared with silent fear at the limp form of his companion, protector, and friend, then whipped his head back towards the battlefield. Keith was dead. Mourning would come later. Right now, he had a town to defend. A single half-orc was left on the northern front, although Arudan’s keen elven eyes picked up the shadowy forms of three more in the forest. The solo bandit grinned back at the weaponless Arudan in the tower, showing filed teeth. He stepped forward into the ring of brush surrounding the tower and, with a startled cry, vanished. Leaning over the side, Arudan chuckled at the half-orc, sprawled at the bottom of the ten foot pit. The bandit seemed unharmed, but not for long. Arudan released a bottle of oil, which crashed and shattered over the helmeted head of the half-orc. It stood, spine curved back to allow a snarl at the pesky elf. But the elf was holding another object, something that was… burning. And indeed, the elven tindertwig exuded a soft glow upon Arudan’s smooth face. Arudan grinned, and released the flame, which twirled towards the oil-soaked orc, smoldering in the night. There was a roar, like that of a pouncing predator, and then silence from the pit below. [/QUOTE]
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