Last Ride of the Heir RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Eowyn Skywalker · 06-11-2004, 04:49 PM

Hanindur sighed hard. The battle was drawing so much of his strength away, it was harder to fight than many of the others he had been in, as before, he had never faced a troll with a mace before. Because of that little complication, his only choice was to keep his eyes peeled, rather than on whatever he was fighting, to stay alert. Already, anyone who danced would've been proud of him, with that amount of dodging he had to do.

Not to mention avoiding any misplaced arrows as well. What was it that had been said the day before... something about counting the enemies. He recalled answering Do you count your friends afterwards too?. And how true that was now, as he knew they had lost one... maybe more, though indeed, he hoped not. But there was no time to see whether any others were down, as he had to keep his eyes on the trolls.

After fighting so many, it became easier, it seemed, almost a programmed reaction to the trolls. And yet, he did not feel that he could let himself stop to take a breath, though it was what he needed most. There was no time, there was no way that he could take any such chances. Not now.

Dodging a hammer stroke, and dashing underneath a troll's fist just as he would've been cruched, Hanindur stroked sideways, and slashed at the troll's arm. With that disablement, he was able to thrust his sword into the troll's side, and it fell over sideways, now a habit for him to jump out of the way. But his jump was misguided, and, as the troll's hammer fell back in as a dead weight, he found himself hit from behind by another troll's thrust, just missing his head, but a close enough hit to knock him off his feet.

Hanindur swore in his mind. In the suddenness of the last moment, he had let himself slip up... somewhere. His sword lay just out of reach of his hand, the blow having knocked it aside. There was a choice, whether to just die there, as it seemed inevitable, or to make a dash for the sword, though it was seemingly impossible to get the blade in time to save himself from the final blow.

Ignoring the pain from the blow, he rolled over and grabbed the sword, taking a gamble, and throwing the blade up at the troll's heart.

The chance paid off, cutting through the troll's thick skin, and piercing it's heart, hopefully to the death. It fell over forwards, and Hanindur was lucky not to be crushed by the dead weight falling at him. His sword was in sight, he could've grabbed it, but couldn't make himself move to get the blade.

He stumbled against the ground, and fell forwards, having no control over himself now, the pain from the hammer hitting him too deeply to fight any longer. He knew he wasn't dead, but knew that there was nothing that he could do, as he sat against a dead tree, breathing sharply.

06-11-2004, 04:49 PM	#21
Eowyn Skywalker Shade of Carn Dûm Join Date: Feb 2004 Location: Somewhere far, far away. Eh. Posts: 402	Hanindur Hanindur sighed hard. The battle was drawing so much of his strength away, it was harder to fight than many of the others he had been in, as before, he had never faced a troll with a mace before. Because of that little complication, his only choice was to keep his eyes peeled, rather than on whatever he was fighting, to stay alert. Already, anyone who danced would've been proud of him, with that amount of dodging he had to do. Not to mention avoiding any misplaced arrows as well. What was it that had been said the day before... something about counting the enemies. He recalled answering Do you count your friends afterwards too?. And how true that was now, as he knew they had lost one... maybe more, though indeed, he hoped not. But there was no time to see whether any others were down, as he had to keep his eyes on the trolls. After fighting so many, it became easier, it seemed, almost a programmed reaction to the trolls. And yet, he did not feel that he could let himself stop to take a breath, though it was what he needed most. There was no time, there was no way that he could take any such chances. Not now. Dodging a hammer stroke, and dashing underneath a troll's fist just as he would've been cruched, Hanindur stroked sideways, and slashed at the troll's arm. With that disablement, he was able to thrust his sword into the troll's side, and it fell over sideways, now a habit for him to jump out of the way. But his jump was misguided, and, as the troll's hammer fell back in as a dead weight, he found himself hit from behind by another troll's thrust, just missing his head, but a close enough hit to knock him off his feet. Hanindur swore in his mind. In the suddenness of the last moment, he had let himself slip up... somewhere. His sword lay just out of reach of his hand, the blow having knocked it aside. There was a choice, whether to just die there, as it seemed inevitable, or to make a dash for the sword, though it was seemingly impossible to get the blade in time to save himself from the final blow. Ignoring the pain from the blow, he rolled over and grabbed the sword, taking a gamble, and throwing the blade up at the troll's heart. The chance paid off, cutting through the troll's thick skin, and piercing it's heart, hopefully to the death. It fell over forwards, and Hanindur was lucky not to be crushed by the dead weight falling at him. His sword was in sight, he could've grabbed it, but couldn't make himself move to get the blade. He stumbled against the ground, and fell forwards, having no control over himself now, the pain from the hammer hitting him too deeply to fight any longer. He knew he wasn't dead, but knew that there was nothing that he could do, as he sat against a dead tree, breathing sharply. Last edited by Eowyn Skywalker; 06-11-2004 at 05:05 PM.