Last Ride of the Heir RPG

[Saraphim]

Elrohir had woken before the howl, but a grogginess from extreme fatigue had kept him from immediatly finding his bearings as a good night's sleep would have afforded him.

Most of the others were already awake. Elrohir looked down at his brother, who was still asleep with a cloak over his head. A well placed kick sent Elrohir's older twin into action, and a snarky comment was silenced when a second howl tore the area.

Elrohir looked to Arathorn.

"Well?" he asked," What do we do now?"
But he knew the answer and was already fitting his bow with an arrow.

[astarielle]

The day passed slowly as Elladan's eyes tracked the movements of the sun with his eyes. "The star of the day seems to tarry in its long journey more so today" he said no no-one in particular as the group, still anxious from the events earlier that day, continued along the road. Minutes seemed like hours, and hours like days to both elves and men alike.

The group was walking quietly along the road, everyone trying not to listen too closely for strange sounds but inevitably doing so. The previously high moral now seemed stricken with melancholy and uncertainty for the future. Stopping only briefly for meals the companions made quick progress along the road. Not soon enough did night fall and sleep could soon forget the troubles of the day.

Elladan remained on watch tuning his hears to the slighest sound and his eyes to the slighest change of shadow. The murmering wind whipped up the flames of the fire and sent embers crackling far into the distance. The grass played its mournful song as the lingering sounds of the day disappeared as night grew and cast its shadow.

[piosenniel]

A day later -

The Attack at the Bridge . . .

The two Dunlendings trailed alongside the slow moving Rangers and Elves keeping well out of sight. It had been two days since they’d first come upon them, and the group seemed to have some idea that they were being tracked. Though, the Dunlendings took especial care now to keep their dogs quiet and them selves well hidden behind the trees and bushes that lined the road.

As the seven Rangers and two Elves drew in sight of The Last Bridge, their spirits seemed to lift a bit. Their stride lengthened and their eyes were now fixed on the passage across the River Hoarwell. The two Dunlendings who were tracking them pulled silently away and rode quickly away to where their fellows awaited,

Hidden three to each side of the road behind a copse of trees on one side and above on a rocky outcropping to the other, the Dunlendings watched the approach of the men and Elves with great anticipation. As the last of the men reached the small rocky cairn the Dunlendings had put near the road to guage the moment of attack, The Wild Men and their four great hunting dogs swept down and out from their hiding places with a great cry. Wolvish grins on their faces, swords and lances raised in readiness they charged the Rangers and Elves from both sides and behind.

Ulrich led the attack on the hated Rangers from the rear. He spurred his horse in, his two great dogs running alongside, their lips pulled back in a snarl from their sharp, yellowed teeth. The first man to fall was the Ranger, Eldin. He took Eldin’s lance in his left shoulder and stumbled back. Ulrich’s female dog saw her opportunity and was on him in a flash of fur and fang . . .

[The Perky Ent]

Seeing the bridge gave hope to Arathorn. He figured by then the loss of their company would ease. And, however slow it took, it was. "At last!" Arathorn shouted, slighty quickening his pace to the bridge. As Arathorn paced slightly ahead of the others, he had no idea what was in store for him. When Arathorn reached the Dunlendings cairn, he had only seconds before he a Dunlending followed by two massive dogs. By the time Arathorn pulled out his sword, Eldin was on the ground, covered by two gigantic dogs.

Running to Eldin's side with his sword in his hand, Arathorn was inches from one of the dogs attacking, when Arathorn himself was pinned down on his back by a dog. Arathorn tried holding the dog back, but as his sword had flown five feet away, it became complicated. Finally breaking through Arathorn's grip, the dog raised it's paw. Arathorn could see it's sharp nails, each a small dagger. As the paw came closer and closer to Arathorn's face, Arathorn heard a small sound in the distance. Before the dog could even touch Arathorn, an arrow had plunged itself in the canine. It fell on the ground, not moving. Getting up to his feet, Arathorn could see Elrohir give him a small salute as he cocked his bow with another arrow. Recovering his sword, Arathorn ran back into the battle, where his sword would taste flesh.

[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Owacyn shouted as he ran towards Eldin. The dogs paused for a moment, then one of them turned and leapt at Owacyn. Crying out with hate, he brought his sword up, leaping into the air, before reversing it and plunging it blade-first into the ground, and the head of the hound. He drove it until the dog's smashed skull would permit him to push it no more, then wrenched it out and swung a precise swipe at the other dog, who turned just in time to see Owacyn's sword cut its throat. It sank, whimpering, to the ground, where Owacyn thrust his sword into its heart. It slumped to the ground, before gasping out a final howl.

At the death of the two dogs, Ulrich screamed and charged at Owacyn, the horses hooves thundering as they bore down on the prone ranger. At the second before his head would have been crushed, Owacyn rolled to the side and in a single, fluid movement swung his sword at the horse's legs. He cut clean through the front left leg, and the horse buckled, hurling Ulrich under itself, and rolling until lack of momentum forced it to stop. Ulrich looked up at the ranger standing over him, the dark hair and scar looked familiar. "Owacyn, [* EDIT BY MOD *]...", Owacyn smiled widely as he looked at the man. "Ulrich, I told you I would never forget...and I haven't..." Owacyn drove his sword into Ulrich's chest, blood spurted from the dunlending's mouth as he wrenched it out. "I'll deal ith you when all of your freinds are dead, Ulrich."

[The Perky Ent]

The battle was short. After Owacyn's dramatic heroics, it wasn't very hard for the group. Especially the elves. Together, Elladan and Elrohir had killed 2 men before Arathorn could even kill one of the riders. Hanindur and Beroth killed the others. It was Arathorn who killed Wulfson. He ran up to Wulfson and sliced his right shoulder. Falling on the ground, Wulfson was pinned and couldn't use his arm to save himself. Lying there helplessly, Wulfson began to moan.

"Awww!" Wulfson said in a raspy voice, sucking in small amounts of air in short intervels. "My arm is ruined!" Wulfson continued, "My body is worthless. My life is worth nothing! Please! Have a heart! We're all on the same side, aren't we?"

Arathorn paused. Wulfson began coughing, still waiting for mercy from Arathorn. There was silence for a moment. Then, suprising everyone, including Wulfson, Arathorn calmed his grip on his sword. "No savage. We are not on the same team. However, I will give you mercy...but it will cost you."

Arathorn's face was rock solid, unlike Wulfson, who was whimpering. "You are a savior! I will pay whatever price! Just please let me live!" Wulfson said, trying to clasp his right hand with his left. "You will pay the price for your life, murderer?" Arathorn said, lowering his sword to Wulfson's neck. "Yes! Yes! Just let me live!" Arathorn lifted his sword from the Dunlending's neck, and moved his sword into a stabbing position. "Here is what you pay!" And in one swift movement, Arathorn punctured Wulfson's other shoulder.

Screaming bloody murder, Wulfson began cursing at Arathorn madly. "What have you done?!?" Wulfson said, his face red as a cherry. "What good is living without my arms?! You idiot! How could you do this to me?" Arathorn's face was as much as stone as when he showed mercy. "That was the price for spareing your life. He accepted. In saving your life, I have stopped you from ever killing again" "You," Wulfson was mad now. All sanity that might have been in him left with the blood flowing from his shoulder. "You think I still can't kill? We'll see about that! Maravmar!" and as he shouted, the last living dog ran twords Arathorn.

"You coward!" Elrohir shouted, as he was watching the event from behind. Before the dog could even jump on Arathorn, Eldin suprised everyone as he weakly threw a dagger at the dog, killing it. After this, Arathorn could take no more. "This is how you treat life? You would waste such a precious gift? Surely Anga or Nuwethion would not. Had I the power to determine who has life, I would surely use it. But I believe that a man should use every power he has. And I know the one just for you!" The was silence for a split second. "Death" Arathorn said, stabbing Wulfson for the third time, but this time, in the heart. Spitting up small amounts of blood, Wulfson exhaled greatly, and lived no more.

"Is it over?" Hanindur said to Arathorn. "No" Arathorn said, pointing to two figures in the distance. They were Owacyn and Ulfang.

[Eowyn Skywalker]

Hanindur made a slight face-- the ranger had been hoping it was over. After the amount of fighting that had gone on over the last while, he was getting slightly tired of it, though he was used to it. At least this battle had been fairly short, the one he had killed had been less of a challenge than a 12 year old boy had been... luckly he had not had to face one of the dogs. Those had been vicious looking creatures, wolfen, and evil.

The hope to be able to resheath his sword was vanquished for a moment, as he watched to see what would happen-- to see if his blade would be needed again. One thing was certain, and that was with the choice to follow Arathorn, and the others this time-- his blade would not go unused. No, there was no dust to settle on the once shining blade, not with the amount of times they had needed to fight. First the trolls, which had been a heavy battle, and then now-- and it was inevitable to say that there would be more.

Hanindur sighed slightly. At least with this battle they had captured the horses, which meant for less walking, anyhow. That would be useful-- for at least something good had came from the shorter fight.