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The Ruling Ring · 05-30-2003, 08:13 AM

Pirk roared, stumbling back as the arrow slammed into his upper chest, bursting through the rusty links in his armor. He ripped it out in one fell motion, the blood spurting like a fountain, spattering all over Unglusch's face and neck.

"What do you think you're doing?" he gurgled at his subordinate, thrusting his sword forward, just managing to lodge it in his upper arm. Pirk's vision blurred with the pain and increasing damage being done. He took a second to look wildly behind him, to see why his other lackeys were not helping him. They were gone...they must have left with the humans already. Pirk felt more anger swell within him, and he yanked the sword out of Unglusch's arm, aiming right for his face now.

*********************************

"This wasn't a good idea," Fededhor muttered, turning and walking back towards the men that were left.

Why had he sent three away? Why hadn't they all gone? Or, why didn't they, themselves, go on the attack now? He looked up at the others.

"Men," he said.

Suddenly, he was cut off by a scuffling noise, and a great rustling as it sounded like the hedges close by were broken down. There was a familiar, faint cry, and Fededhor turned to see Evren, bloodied and battered, fall before them. There was something in her arms...

"Evren!" he cried, running to her and kneeling at her side. He gently placed his hand on her face. Thankfully, it was still plenty warm, though her whole head looked to be in bad shape.

Fededhor tore his eyes from her face, looking at the bundle in her arms. He gave a gasp of utter horror as he realized that it was a child. A little boy. He was cold as ice, and green in the face, as well as stiff as a board. Fededhor looked helplessly behind him, as he knew not what to do with the child. Supposing he was dead...

[ May 30, 2003: Message edited by: The Ruling Ring ]

05-30-2003, 08:13 AM	#12
The Ruling Ring Haunting Spirit Join Date: Sep 2002 Location: Deep Thought Posts: 83	Pirk roared, stumbling back as the arrow slammed into his upper chest, bursting through the rusty links in his armor. He ripped it out in one fell motion, the blood spurting like a fountain, spattering all over Unglusch's face and neck. "What do you think you're doing?" he gurgled at his subordinate, thrusting his sword forward, just managing to lodge it in his upper arm. Pirk's vision blurred with the pain and increasing damage being done. He took a second to look wildly behind him, to see why his other lackeys were not helping him. They were gone...they must have left with the humans already. Pirk felt more anger swell within him, and he yanked the sword out of Unglusch's arm, aiming right for his face now. ********************************* "This wasn't a good idea," Fededhor muttered, turning and walking back towards the men that were left. Why had he sent three away? Why hadn't they all gone? Or, why didn't they, themselves, go on the attack now? He looked up at the others. "Men," he said. Suddenly, he was cut off by a scuffling noise, and a great rustling as it sounded like the hedges close by were broken down. There was a familiar, faint cry, and Fededhor turned to see Evren, bloodied and battered, fall before them. There was something in her arms... "Evren!" he cried, running to her and kneeling at her side. He gently placed his hand on her face. Thankfully, it was still plenty warm, though her whole head looked to be in bad shape. Fededhor tore his eyes from her face, looking at the bundle in her arms. He gave a gasp of utter horror as he realized that it was a child. A little boy. He was cold as ice, and green in the face, as well as stiff as a board. Fededhor looked helplessly behind him, as he knew not what to do with the child. Supposing he was dead... [ May 30, 2003: Message edited by: The Ruling Ring ] __________________ "Where now are the Dúnedain, Elessar, Elessar?"