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 Post subject: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 19th, 2011, 5:17 pm 
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{Rules: Hop in, have fun. Try not to break immersion and try to be true to source material. Biographies not needed}

Goran glanced in the corner of his eye. Foul beasts. He duck into the woods, leaving the dirt-ridden road where just moments later walked a warband of stinking rotting monsters. The creatures were dressed in what one could describe metal scraps and other waste. Yet there lurked a kind of ingenuity behind it. Very protective, yet brittle. Goran waited as they passed by, he counted fifteen heads. These roads were becoming more dangerous everyday. The men he traveled with are now all dead. If the Easterlings of the Rhûn weren't bad enough, the Orcs surely added a new layer of threat with their smell.
He had seen more and more of these warbands scoundrelling about. Sometimes even accompanied by men of the East. He had served Gondor since he was 15 years winters old and 15 more years were spent into service... he knew what this meant. War is brewing. He felt it in his guts. Probably the nobility already knew too... maybe Osgilliath was being prepared for war. So close to the borders of Mordor. But did this truly mean the Dark Lord had returned?

He knew that the longer he lingered, the harder it would be for his survival. He prayed to the One and checked his crossbolt, cynically thinking that if the Valar didn't protect him, then a bolt would. He pulled at his belt, his two sheathes slapping onto his thighs... a sword and a sharp dagger. He was a spy, and he had information, numbers of the Easterlings, their plans and it all bode bad. He reassured himself that he could make it. And he moved out of the bush he had been hiding in.
Goran joked to himself... maybe I will finally see someone soon who didn't smell of death and rotten eggs.


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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 20th, 2011, 6:09 am 
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Lessien froze as she heard a sound that reminded her of a time of war and death a long time ago. The smell confirmed her suspicion. She looked around, looking for a place to hide. She absolutely did not want to face those creatures right now. Her task was to find out what they were up to, not to kill them, although she sometimes wished she could. She hated them with everything inside of her.
It didn't take long before she saw the Orcs. She was in a save place, high in a tree rich of green leaves, which reminded her of home. She held her breath as the beasts marched by her. Her eyes followed them carefully.
Her long travel had worn her out, but she wasn't tired anymore, now she had a lead. Just before she wanted to climb down the tree, she heard another sound. A man appeared on the road. He had been hiding as well. Without a sound she reached for her bow and an arrow. She did this quietly, but before she had even stretched the bow, the man looked her right in the eyes.

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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 20th, 2011, 11:26 am 
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[I will join! I'm not sure how quickly paced this RPG will be, but I hope I'm able to post frequently. ;)
Oh and when exactly is this plot set?]

A tall man clothed in black, except for a grey, worn cloak, strolled lazily through the high grass. With the reigns in his hand, he led his brown mare through the thick bushes. There was something strange in the air that day, but he couldn’t lay his finger on it. He had not seen or heard any bird or beast for the entire day. Dûrion was used to people looking away from him; with his scarred face and rugged features he had the resemblance of a beggar. People avoided him and called him Dûrion, after his fearsome appearance. Yet he felt at ease in the wilderness, away from the civilized world, with animals as only company. But the silence worried him; a threat was looming over these lands and Dûrion didn’t like it.
Slowly the thick bushes gave way to younger trees and low brushwood, with here and there trails of animals or men and he realised that he was obviously nearing the road. Glad to have finally reached the other side of the forest, and with the foresight of making perhaps twenty miles in the direction of Minas Tirith before nightfall, Dürion entered a clearing, of which he assumed that the road lay on the other side. There he lay eyes on a most peculiar scene: a young man, fully armed, had appeared out of the bushes while at the same time a girl climbed down a large tree. Both looked at each other in surprise, the lad still carrying his cross bolt. Dûrion’s lips curled up in a crooked smile as he beheld this strange scene and scoffed: “Ain’t this some place for a rendezvous? You’d better put down that weapon down, son, or you might actually wound the lass..”
Dûrion was such a strange mix of witticism, sarcasm and boldness, that he confronted these strangers, where others might just have passed silently. At his ease, he made his way towards the sandy road, watching the couple with interest.

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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 20th, 2011, 12:12 pm 
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[It's set at the start of the books, to put it in a timeframe, when Orcs start to gather in the East and the Nazgul just rode out to find Baggins. Goran spied for several months in the Rhûn area with his unit, after which he gained information that the Easterlings' politics started to shift and start to build armies. As his unit finally tore down to one member, he is tasked to bring important documents he stole back to Gondor... but this journey probably takes a twist of its own.]

Goran looked back and forth to the characters which dramatically entered his life. Living souls, not Orc, not Easterling. The realm of Gondor was getting close. He had lost his map while making the escape from an Easterling camp and tried navigating using the stars. He was glad, more life meant new provisions, he had one slice of bread left, full of fungus, and he had to scavenge mushrooms and herbs, shoot some rabbits to survive and not die of some weird infection.
He removed his hood, revealing a short-haired man around his thirties. A few scars signatured his visage.

The female looked Elvish, but he couldn't see her easily through the leaves of the tree. She had readied her bow, so he did not lay down his crossbow. He wondered what took her so far from Mirkwood or another Elvish home. The man was different. He looked like a beggar, but had an horse, so he had money... maybe a fallen or exiled noble or knight. His features showed he had seen combat too. A man like this could be just as dangerous as a hungry Worg. Maybe a lone highwayman, he lived so he was good at his profession. All speculation, but Goran didn't like to take chances. While keeping the crossbolt aimed at the presumed Elf... he put his hand on his knife. Ready to take out both if need be. A crossbow takes long to reload. They didn't look like they were together, so taking out one might give enough time to take out the other too.

He did not remove his hood to reveal his identity... but to see better, make a stronger aim. A crossbow gave another advantage, pulling the trigger would mean less movement, harder to react to... a bow means pulling a string and gives a mere second to be able to react.

However... combat isn't always the solution...;

"Let us properly introduce, without armed weapons. We're not enemies, and there's enough to worry about in these forests than to turn on possible companions. Don't you agree?"

He looked towards the Elf... he was less worried about the warrior. Dwarfs say; never trust an Elf...


Goran:
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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 20th, 2011, 1:16 pm 
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Ariali knew he had heard something. He had just managed to keep out of sight of the orcs who had just passed but there were still people. That was one of the advantages of being an elf, chances are you could always hear something before you met it on the road. That may have helped him survive the last thousand years, which wasnt young yet wasnt that old by an elf's reckoning. He moved forward, keeping to the shadows and remaining quiet. If he came across anyone hostile he could slip past them unnoticed, and if not he had his bow and quiver as well as his two swords.( With these he fights in Dimachaeri fashion, basically fights with two swords instead of sword and a shield)
He drew his cloak closer to him. His clothing wasn't great. Traveling for long years was a hard thing to do. He had on light yet hard leather Armour in order for him to be able to move quickly. He had been around long enough to know when war was coming. He had both heard of and seen signs of war on his travels. He liked to call himself the elven ranger as he wandered in similar fashion to the Dunedan.
He regarded those on the road, there was another elf but female as well as two men. One of which had a horse which suggested that he must have had some amount money at the least. Moving forward while keeping a hand on each of his swords he walked into plain view of them and went into speaking distance.

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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 20th, 2011, 1:43 pm 
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What is this, another person? Goran thought of the slim odds to meet 2 seperate Elves, and a highwayman in a single day. Is this some kind of trick, did he pick the wrong mushrooms? Or... was this a calling of the One? He couldn't lay his finger on this situation. Two of them had their weapons unsheathed, the highwayman just stood firm holding the reigns of his horse. Maybe the Elves were companions, that might sound reasonable, maybe not. He just wondered how he could've avoid dozens of warbands and then stumble in a ragtag group of Elves and men. All he knew was that having an impasse of this proportion, weapons unsheathed, it might escalate.

He unloaded his crossbow and tugged it away.

"Two Elves, and another. A rare sight these days. I've seen nothing but foul Orcs these days. However, standing here will draw unwanted attention, as is obvious given our little party is growing rapidly."

He flipped his hood back on his head and was ready to pull his mask up.

"It's very plausible you're not with the enemy, so I suggest we all part our ways. Less likely for Orcs to find any of us..."

As he spoke those words a flock of shrieking ravens flew over their heads, calling and hissing. These were no ordinary birds, and he saw that they started circling in perfect unison above their heads. He cursed. Here's the unwanted attention he warned about.


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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 20th, 2011, 1:58 pm 
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Ariali cursed the bad luck. He knew they shouldnt stay out in the open.
'' We need to leave now.'' he stated simply eyeing the birds that were just starting to move away. If there was enemies within a few leagues of here he had a feeling that they would be drawn to this spot.
'' I suggest we leave as a group as we are more likely to survive an attack with higher numbers'' His mind was on the orcs that had passed not too long ago. '' Just a while before we all crossed paths there was a band of orcs, who's to say those accursed birds did not bring their attention back to us?''
This was only a temporary measure, he saw that if they were waylaid by a band of orcs they would have a better chance of surviving if they stuck together for now.

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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 20th, 2011, 3:54 pm 
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Lessien agreed with the other elf. Staying together would indeed give them a better chance of survival. She did not like it, for she was used to working alone. But on the other hand she knew she could not let her master down by failing this mission.
She agreed, but that didn't mean she was going to tell them anything about herself and her mission. They were still strangers and they could carry dark secrets with them. All she planned to do, was to stay alive untill the danger of an Orc attack was over.
This unexspected meeting with the elf she didn't know and the two men could be disasterous for her mission to gain information. She had hoped she could have stayed invisible the whole time. Now the Crebain had seen her, that hope was lost.
She did not like this situation at all. She did not trust anybody. She lived by that rule.

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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 20th, 2011, 5:06 pm 
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It did not last long before the first Orc jumped through a bush, roaring and snarling. The vile things looked like some mutilated corpse, scars, bulges and even open wounds swarmed his face. His sharp teeth encircled his blacked tongue. He cried for blood and ran towards the group. A bolt flew through the air and landed into the beast's neck, sprouting a little fountain of blackened blood from his artery. Goran reloaded his crossbow, a rare and new weapon derived from Harad ballista's.

It took a moment's notice or he was followed by a large mob of other disease-ridden Orcs, all gnarling and snarling at the men and Elves. The one was uglier than the other. One was surprsingly large and looked curiously calm. His head obscured by black helmet, with horns. He rode a Worg, a foul beast, larger than a horse and triple the head, not to mention inch-long teeth. The leader. Worse is, the leader was giving commands, crude, but effective. They were being surrounded.

He spoke in a crude and vile voice, deeper than most Orcs but with mad intelligence for such a creature.

"Lay down your weapons and we might prolong your execution. You will be brought to the North Downs where you will be talking to my master."

He looked around to his portential allies, fight or surrender, what's it going to be? He feared that surrender would give him the bestter odds of survival, seeing the warband increasing to the size of fifty. He could only guess what these creatures were up to, but he cursed for being dragged into the direction of Angmar.


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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 20th, 2011, 7:01 pm 
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[ Woah! You guys move really fast.. I hope I can keep up! ]

A chuckle escaped Dûrion's lips as the man lay his hand on his sheated dagger, but it didn't impress him at all. He had seen too many battles and combats over the long years, to be intimidated by some suspicious stranger. With his grey eyes the Ranger scanned the man from head to toe, and decided, judging from his features, that he had to be Gondorian; he seemed overly armed and not afraid to use them. But there did his interest in stranger end. Dûrion had never cared for many others and only a few could call themselves his friends.. Now his only priority was reaching Minas Tirith, and he nothing would keep him from reaching his destiny; at least, that's what Dûrion thought..

Despite of Goran's unspoken threat, Dûrion approached the man calmly and let out a bark of laughter as he spoke of introductions. But even before the Ranger could retort to this ridiculous proposal, another Elf appeared out of the shadows. Astonished, but even more unpleased, Dûrion eyed the Elf suspiciously. He had enough of these coincidences and the last thing he wanted was having others mingling in his affairs. Those others could discuss as much as they wanted, but he would not linger; a sense of foreboding washed over him, a great evil was at hand.

Suddenly a large flock of shrieking birds swarmed above their head, perfectly able to spot the men and Elves in the forest clearing. Dûrion swore under his breath. Crebain. "Fools!" he groaned. "We should not move in groups! Scatter, now!"
Yet before he could mount his horse, the first Orcs appreared out of nowwhere, from all directions. There were many, too many and they had encircled them in no time. Dûrion cursed, he cursed those filthy orcs, he cursed those strangers and he cursed himself, for lingering too long..

Grimly he threw back his worn cloak, and unsheated his broadsword. That was his answer to leader of the band. Surrender was not an option, it had never been an option to him.. The Ranger groaned again, realising how dependant he was from strangers, how his life could be decided by the whims and fears of others. This just was a very bad day..

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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 20th, 2011, 7:09 pm 
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The leader of the Orcs had spoken. Lessien looked to the men and elf she was with. She knew what she would have done if she was alone. She would never surrender. She'd rather die than be taken by these creatures of evil. She hated Orcs in particular, because the first Orcs were people of her own kind, tortured and mutilated.
She wanted to fight them right now! In her eyes her mission already failed. She had nothing to lose.
But she didn't move. If she would attack right now, it would mean death for everyone. She promised herself not to do anything until one of the others made a move.
And luckily for her, someone did.
For a long time she had not used her fighting skills, but that didn't mean she had lost them. Her hate for these beasts made her strikes with her long elven sword even more accurate. The men also handled their weapons with professionalism.
Who are these people? she thought, before she reminded herself she should focus on fighting right now.

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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 20th, 2011, 9:01 pm 
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As the fight broke loose, Goran immediately had to parry blows. Fools, he thought, this will get us all killed, rather to be a war-prisoner than to end up as the next orc's supper. But he had no choice now, he had no fool man's honor. He tried to have honest life, but being a spy meant otherwise in most situations. It might even be a new lead about the enemy, he has escaped captivity before.

a flurry of weapons passed him by. He ducked and stabbed. He had no time to reload his trusty sidearm. He saw an opening and threw his dagger. It split an Orc's eye and stabbed into the brain. Dead. The others were capable of fighting as well and the Orcs were luckily savages, unskilled and untrained... just dumb animals who were given pointy sticks.

Goran was challenged as the Warg launched itself towards him. A brute beast, must weight a ton. It landed on him and tried to rip his neck apart. Goran struggled fiercely, until someone took a jab at it. Goran couldn't see who, might even be an orc, he was too focused on preventing the jaws of the predator crunching his head. Then he noticed that he dropped his satchel. the Orc-leader, oblivious to the fight around him, picked it up. Looked inside. And laughed wickedly.

"I think this does not belong to you. My master will see to it that it will be returned to the rightful owners." He beckoned the Warg. And Goran was released. He saw the beast riding off with his master, leaving the Orcs behind. He needed the documents in the satchel. He rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself upright again. He took advantage of the aftermath of this encounter with the wolf-life creature to ready a bolt into the wooden contraption he was carrying around. Ignoring the others still fighting, he aimed, looking through a small crosshair. *click* The arrow raced through the air, but the distance was long, the Warg was hit in his hip. That'll slow them down at the very least. He looked around to see if he could help the others, just decency.

[yeah, the pace is quick, but then you have an actual story, instead of narrative on the same location which in "realtime" would take hours, or endless monologues. Noticed that I often describe (albeit through Goran's eyes) what happens and the rest pick up from that. Feel free to add plotpoints or plottwists, or maybe some side-story you'd like to explore. I love to DM d20-games, but in this case I'm not the only storyeller ;) ]


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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 21st, 2011, 5:23 am 
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Dûrion launched himself forward into the lines of orcs. His strokes were quick and clean, as he tried to take out as many of the vile creatures, in the hope that they would scatter, instead of turning all on him.. His bitter thoughts and the dominant feeling that he was not supposed to be here were all forgotten. At this moment in the fight Dûrion thought of nothing; except of his sword. His focus was on the presicion and fatalaty of his blows, and the timely dodging of the swords and knifes of the orcsc. He felt nothing, but adrenaline; not the blood that spattered on his clothing and face, nor the dagger that sank into the backside of his hip. There was only him and his opponents; nothing more.

His brown mare whinnied in anguish, rearing to avoid the sharp weapons of the orcs to stab her. As soon as Dûrion had fought his way through the band of orcs, she took a run for it, galopping far into the distance, until it was safe to return to her master again. The speed at which everything was happening was surprisingly fast and Dûrion quickly glanced around him. Now was his chance, his chance to disappear into the last tree line and reach the road. His chance to leave this mess behind and continue with his journey. But then he spotted the man, who struggling fiercely with a Warg, and was obviously loosing the fight. The Ranger growled to himself, reminding himself to avoid any human being on the road ever again. But he could not turn his back on the fight now, he couldn't live with himself, knowing that he had purposely left man and Elf behind, perhaps to die, when he could have done something.

"Curse you, Aldamir!" the Ranger growled to himself, and he dived back into the fight, lashing out with his sword, and reaching the Warg with difficulty. The stabbed the enormeous wolf-like creature, but he knew that it wasn't enough. Warg skin was tough and there was no way to take the beast down alone. But before Dûrion could strike again, he was distracted, and just in time he turned to parry an attack of an orc. As he fought them off, he slowly became aware of the burning sensation near his hip, but there was no time to pay heed to that. He took a few steps back until he stood back-toback with the man, who in some way had managed to escape the Warg, and rasped: "There are too many to fight. We must flee and reach the road. The sunlight is our only chance to loose them!"

[ I actually meant the frequency of posting. ;) Also, I should tell that Dûrion's actual name is Aldamir, yet goes by the name of Dûrion as people named him that after his fearsome appearance and not so social behaviour. He is a Dúnedan ranger, around the age of ninety-five. ]

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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 21st, 2011, 7:01 am 
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From the corner of her eye, Lessien saw the leader of the Orcs ride away on his Warg, followed by an arrow, which could have done more harm if the shot were more precise. If the Warg would still have been in range, she would have shot it too. But it was too late for that.
Even though she was surrounded by the corpses of many of the Orcs, there were still many of them breathing and full of life. She picked up the words of one of the men and agreed. The sunlight could be their only chance.
"Let us go!" she said with a loud voice to her fellow fighters. "Fight and die, or run and survive!"
She escaped the fight, still killing Orcs on the way out.
The others followed her, some running more slowly than the others, probably wounded. Lessien herself was fine.
Suddenly she stopped, a scream behind her had forced her to look back. She looked around and immediately ran back.

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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 21st, 2011, 7:58 am 
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"Curses" Ariali swore to himself. He had abandoned his bow and arrows in favour of his swords as he knew that with this many orcs in close proximity he needed to fight with them to survive. He noticed that the warg and its rider seem to have made off with something of one of the mens. He blocked an orcs sword and in one quick fluid movement decapitated him. He noticed that the others were making a run for it. "Wise move" he thought. Moments later the other elf followed them leaving him by himself. He dodged an arrow shot at him. He knew he couldn't fight them all off. They were starting to close in around him. He slew two more of them in quick succession then as he turned he felt pain as an orc's hand garbed in some metal caught him on the jaw and then another sword caught him on his lower back. A scream of anger left him and he drove his sword into the chest of the orc who punched him. If this was his end as it was likely to be, he wouldnt go down without a fight. Shouting the name of Elbereth he faced the remainder of them with an almost mad smile on his face. "Here we go " he said.

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 Post subject: Re: The Rangers of Kingsfell
PostPosted: May 21st, 2011, 8:27 am 
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Goran turned around to see who screamed. He saw the male Elf getting a sword in his lower back, the scream was less of pain but sounded more like a battle-cry. A last stand. He spinted back and threw his recovered dagger into an Orc preparing to make the killing blow. The beast released the sharp scrap of metal lifted above his head and fell over backwards. Another Orc tried to make stab, but even wounded the Elf fought fast and graceful as ever. Goran sliced and diced, after he had his dagger returned to him. He tasted the black blood of those beasts, it was almost acid burning his tongue... but he tasted orc-blood before. He spat. Combat was dirty. It's not some shiny tale about heroism, it's a tale of survival, intestines and gore.

There seemed no end to the Orcs, this was almost half an army, perhaps fifty, and with the four of them they took down perhaps a quarter. But he became tired, and when sweat blinded him, he felt a burning thrust into his chest. He tried not to think of death, the pain was tremendous. but he could breathe, and his heart still beat. A shot out of hundreds, it missed his vital organs. If he could remove the blackened arrow, he had herbs to cure the wound... but for now, the black silence of sleep sounded so welcoming, as he crashed into the earth.

[He's not dead... ;) ]


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