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Saralonde sat on her horse waiting ever-so-patiently outside of Minas Tirith for King Theoden to finish his speech. When he finally screamed "DEATH!" They charged, they all had something to fight for. For example Saralonde, who was one tenth human, her grandparents were in there and she wanted to save them. During the charge, Saralonde's horse was stepped on by a Mumkil, Saralonde was hurtled from the horse's back and since she was un-able to fight slowly limped away from the battle field. When she was far enough away from the fight she collapsed from fatigue and her injuries* hoping she would be found by someone other then an orc, or the foot of an Mumkil.

((EDIT: Sorry Plight of a Warrior was my orignal title))

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Name: Darnos

Race: Human

People: Gondor

Age: 29

Eyes: Green

Hair: Brown long hair with a touch of black

Personality: Helpful, cheering, but can be strict and serious when asked or the situation requires it...

Clothing: Normal black & grey clothing...

Battle Clothing: a scale armor, a short sword which has a swan decoration and a tower shield which also has the with tree of gondor, short bow and an arrow bag.

History: Born in the western area`s of Gondor into a simple life of hunting and farming in his family until he became a ranger when he was 20 and left his home to find his own plce in the world until after some years he ended up in the Minas Tirith`s guards...

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Darnos shot his arrow into the swarm of orcs rushing into the city, but couldn`t help smiling and slightly cheering as the riders of Rohan appeared outside the city, but there was no time for festivities yet and he drew his sword putting his bow on his back. Darnos picked up his shield prepared to defend himself and his fellow soldiers, an orc soon clashed into his shield with it`s crude axe and had a response of steel in it`s chest.

Darnos kicked his sword free continuing the fight hoping that he could get out of the city before he died, but that seemed like a lost hope now.

(not really taking the story forwards, but I just want to put my chars view of the battle..)

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Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Name : Rhavaniel
Race: High Elf
Age: N/A
Gender: Female
Hair: raven black

Eyes: shimmering green
Powers: none
Weapons: A bow of the Galahdrim, and the sword of her father
Looks:
Tall with long raven hair. She has sea-green eyes and a pale complexion. Rhavaniel wears mostly green tunics and lofty white shirts, offten with a short white skirt

Personality: Hot tempered, protective, loyal, helpfull, secretive, arrogannt

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

"Well," Saralonde said "If I can get far enough I can get to that cave." She got up and slowly limped to the cave that was about 10 yards away. When she finally got there she collapsed for exhaustion, when she woke up she found someone in the cave. "May I help you?" she asked.

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Rhavaniel sat tight, as her horse reared up, a warg rider passed where its front legs had just been. "On my signall!" She cried, holding her sword ready "On my signall!" Behind her, she heard her troop laying arrows at the ready. The orks came steadily closer, soon they could smell them. The elf warrior raised her sword, and pointed it forward and down. Arrows shot about her, killing the front row.
The horse reared again, neighing loudly, and another cry was muttered and the compay charged into tthe thick of things. Late as usual. Well, having Rhavaniel for a captin was probably the reson.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

When Saralonde saw nobody was there she went to the mouth of the cave and saw a elvish warrior leading a troop of warriors, she staggered out. She now had a reason to fight.

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Rhans horse snked around orcs expertly, allowing time for his rider to get a good swing of her sword at them.
Black blood flew up around them, horse and rider, spattering them. Each man for himself now. Each man- or elf- had the same purpose now. 'Kill as many before you go down yourself.' And to that they held.
Her elven eyes picked out a figure at the mouth of the cave, her sword went up again as if in greeting, before it swiped an orks head off.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

Saralonde saw that the warrior noticed her at the cave. She rasied her sword in greeting. Then she staggered toward the warrior. "I am Saralonde." she bowed, then began fighting again.

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"Rhan, lady!" She called back, preffereing to go as a male than as a female.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

Saralonde nodded, then she heard a Nazgul screech, "Uh-oh." she said and covered her ears. It was the Witch King.

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The elf's horse reared, and tried to bolt. His rider sheathed her sword, and took aim with an arrow. It shot past the witchking, missing its steed by millimeters.
She swore loudly, and took aim again. An ork caught the hem of her cloak, and yanked it strongly. She tumbled out of the saddle with a shout, and rolled over onto the floor.
I must keep going... For him! her thoughts sreamed at her. With a weary sigh, she hauled her self up, and stood face to face with the ork.
All her years in Mirkwood would pay off now, now she must reclaim her title with honour. In her minds eye, she could see a azure-eyed elf grinning at her and gesturing to her. But she knew it was just because she was so tired. Her riders had ridden three days and night with only one short stop. Her energy was nearily drained of her.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

Lady Tindomerel Narninore's bio:
http://www.arwen-undomiel.com/forum/vie ... php?t=4566

~~~~~~~~~

Tindomerel knew that her father would object to her being there, but she was, and there was no turning back now. She was dressed as a Rider of Rohan, a helm covering up her ebony hair and most of her face, and was swinging a Rohirrim blade at the orcs, from a top her normal stallion, Lebethron. She knew that behind the company from Rohan, was Nimloth, her white wolf friend.

She swung her sword at the orcs, killing all in her path. She then saw the Wicth-King overhead. She stopped for a moment. In that moment when she was looking up at the sky, an orc slashed her in the arm.
With a scream of pain, she fell off Lebethron. Her right arm throbbed with pain. But she was glad that she faoght best with her left hand. "Noro lim, Lebethron!" she yelled to her horse.
(Ride on, Lebethron!)
The stallion darted off, running away from the battlefield, as Tindomerel told him too.

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The Ever So Confused One

Sig ll Moi

Soon the gondorians were driven to the upper most levels of Minas Tirith and they were utterly trapped, Darnos sat on a small bench resting as the battle had a small brake for him since the orcs had been delayed enough. He sighed shaking his head and got up with his bow ready to shoot.

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Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

((waiting))

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

((Sorry everyone.))

Saralonde slashed at the orc. "Are you okay?" she asked Rhan.

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"Never been better." Rhan called, and slashed with her sword.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .