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Old 04-17-2009, 06:24 PM   #154
Groin Redbeard
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
 
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Join Date: Nov 2007
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Groin Redbeard is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.Groin Redbeard is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
Trór

They continued on. The wind was blowing harder and the snow swirled in masses before their eyes. The warriors were spread out in a long line to survey the ground for evidence of Orcs or Óin. Trór marched alongside Frar.

The march was slow and unsure, the warriors hesitant to go any farther in the blinding storm. Trór and Frar knew that they were at a disadvantage: they were blind in the storm the Orcs could smell. However, for a time this threat was ignored—Óin had to be found.

A shout was presently heard from down the line and a halt was ordered. A Dwarf ran to Trór holding something close to his chest; Frar stepped forward and the Dwarf handed the object to him. Frar gave a harsh whisper and bent his head to examine the object while the Dwarf responded.

“What’s the matter Frar?”

Frar turned and hesitantly held out the mysterious object. Trór’s eyes widened in disbelief; he dropped his spear and quickly snatched a box from Frar. It was Óin's tinderbox; Trór held it tightly breathing hard in disbelief.

“Where was this found?”

“It was stuck in some mud not far back, my lord,” the soldier responded. “There were Orc footprints are all around it.”

“Any sign of Óin?”

“None my lord.”

Trór was silent at the response. The box filled his entire gaze, remembering how closely Óin held on to it. It was at this moment that Trór despaired of the search and bent his head while the tears flowed down his cheeks. Óin was dead, and what was worse, his noble body was being defiled by the Orcs. I have lost my king and my councilor; must I lose my friend as well? What an unhappy fate is mine! And in a great voice, he raised his head and cried his friend’s name. Silence followed his cry as he looked around uneasily to see if it would be answered.

“My lord,” it was Gror: the messenger from King Dain. Trór had forgotten that Gror was charged to his service, and that meant following his lord wherever he went. Trór gave a half turn as Gror came forward. He stopped.

“My lord, Oin is capable of taking care of himself in these situations. His valor is well known in Erebor and I’m sure he can get himself out of this Dale without our help. We are wasting precious time; you should be leading your warriors in the city. Nothing can be availed by searching for Oin blindly out here; he may very well be waiting for your lordship upon our return.” Gror had spoken more boldly than was usual, but he was in a grave circumstance and Trór needed to see that.

“No Gror, Óin is not waiting for us: he is dead. Óin would never leave his tinderbox like so—he must be…” A loud cry was heard close by and Trór turned to see one of his warriors fall with a large dart in his neck.

“Orcs!” Officers immediately began to bring the long line of warriors in a compact group. Their lines were now two rows deep and curved to meet attacks on three sides. Shields were easily un-slung from their backs and against them the Orcs’ arrows could not penetrate. Masses of arrows and small spears were hurled against the Dwarves, but against the hard steel of their hauberks and shields the arrows had little effect. Great Uruks could be seen in the swirling snow, some with bent bows but mostly wielding great scimitars. As the arrows came in less frequent volleys the Uruks could be seen advancing; soon the arrows stopped and loud shrieks erupted from the Orcs. Trór could not discern their numbers, but it was a band the size of his own at least. The Orcs sprang forward without order, each of them screaming in their dreadful language. The Dwarves gave a tremendous yell and swung their Mattocks’ as the Orcs hit their lines.

It was no more than a skirmish but it was a desperate struggle. One side motivated by conquest and treasure and the other side motivated by the defense of their home and for their fallen lord, Balin. Many of Trór’s warriors broke rank and swung their weapons with good effect deep within the swarm of Orcs. Trór stabbed swiftly with his spear as the Orcs came at him, his strong arm thrusting his spear through shield and armor.

The Goblins had seen the raven on Trór's helm and they strode with long weapons to pierce him. If not for the heroic protection from Gror, Trór's prowess in battle would have been in vain, for the darts rained most thickly about him. A hobgoblin grabbed Trór's spear and yanked it from his grasp. It was then that Trór threw off his shield and wielded his axe. With Gror close by his side, Trór broke rank, and with a swelling yell, was followed by his warriors and so great was their indignation that many piles of Orcs lay about them.

Throwing himself against shields Trór bore down his enemies and cut the taller Orcs at the knees. Trór's axe swung swiftly, hacking with as much ferocity as he could muster (the extent of which drove him blindly mad). He had tried to catch a glimpse of Frar, but was constantly distracted by the onslaught of Orcs. Trór could only pray to Durin that Frar and his warriors was not in trouble.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nali

“Poor Vigdis.” Nali muttered to himself.

There was a sadness in her eyes that matched those of Balin’s closest friends. Vidgis had done fine work with the new passages and with restoring those pillars of beauty which the Orcs sundered in their long stay. Balin had never spoken of her to him personally and Nali would never assume of anything betwixt the two, but Vigdis had spoken of Balin to him several times in their conversations. Perhaps she could not help it, perhaps she needed to confide in someone, perhaps she did not realize what she was saying at the time, but Nali knew that Vigdis was fond of her lord. He wondered if she would be just as fond of her new lord. Nevertheless, she will make a splendid burial tomb, the kind that dedication and love can create when combined.

“My lord!” Onli was not standing far away, and true to his task, had brought Kór.

“Good, a small task for thee, yet executed well enough. In-fact, thou hast exceeded my instructions.” Nali cast a sour glance at Kórin. He sighed heavily. “I believe I summoned for thy brother’s service, not thee personally. I have given thee a chance with Lord Trór but if thou art looking for more trouble or a boon I am afraid that I shall be of little assistance in granting either.”

Nali paused. His hand was raised to dismiss her, but the motion never came. Tread carefully, old dwarf. No need to cause a scene over nothing. Best hear her out first, no harm in that. His eyes softened, no longer having that concentrated piercing look. He stroked his chin several times before abruptly asking:

“Why hast thou come? Thy brother is the only dwarf I hath need of for the present.”

Last edited by Groin Redbeard; 04-18-2009 at 03:25 PM.
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