[Amanaduial the archer]

"Dammit Melost, where are you when I need you?"

The thought came unbidden to Arthain's mind, and it hurt as badly as if one of the orcish arrows had pierced his chest. But there was no time to dwell on such things- the orcs approached, and Arthain felt only anger.

The arrows were being shot from behind while the other orcs pushed forward. It was a perilous plan for the orcs, as they risked shooting their own, but it also meant it would be doubly hard to fight the orcs while dodging the arrows. Dashing out from behind the rock where he sat, Arthain whirled his sword around at the orc he had heard coming up near him. He judged the distance perfectly, and his heavy sword sliced straight through the creature's chest. Arthain's hands jarred slightly as his weapon sliced through flesh, bone and muscle, and Arthain felt the adrenaline of battle course through his viens. The orc bellowed in pain and rage, but Arthain followed up his first slice with a straight stab through the creature's neck. Withdrawing his sword sharply, he cast a glance around, searching for his squire. If anything was to happen to Dorlas in this skirmish, while they were still in such terms...

Arthain found himself not next to Dorlas as he fought though, but next to Thelian. There was no time then to dwell on the whereabouts of his squire as the arrows were still coming thick and fast over the heads of the orcs. One long, thick arrow, hewn simply straight from a tree it seemed, came shooting towards them, to Arthain's left side. He shot out his arm with the speed of a rattlesnake, blocking the arrows course straight towards Thelian, protecting him as he would his own squire in a battle.

The elf didn't even have time to look startled, but nodded gratefully to Arthain before ducking out, spinning with elven grace towards another orc. Arthain couldn't help but pause, watching him, memories of another who moved with such smooth elegance stirring in his mind. But he lingered for too long, and an orcish blade was coming towards him so fast, as if it had come from nowhere. Arthain barely had time to move to the side, but not fast enough, and the stabbing blade caught his side, piercing his tunic in a chink where he had not had time to fasten his armour. The pain flowed through his side as the blood flowed through his tunic, and he bit down on his lip hard, nearly drawing blood there to stop himself crying out.

Anger fuelling him even further, he barely noticed the elven women as they joined in the fight as he twisted agily, dispatching the orc with a powerful thrust of his sword.