As Sulvan made his way back to his companions, the excitement still throbbing a little within him, he almost did not notice, as he returned, that a small scouting force of warg riders was approaching. They were focusing entirely on his companions and for the moment were not aware of his existence, but he knew would soon smell,him, he continued forwards, creeping in the long maddy terraign, then, when he was within sight of both the wargs and his earnstwhile companions, he jumped up into the air, making his presence known, and he loosed multiple arrows at the warg riders, he saw one warg go down, but that was all, then, pretending to be noble, but in reality seeking merely an opportuunity to gain further credibility, he turned around drawing the wargs' attention to him and away from the others, or so he thought...

_________________
"I am the Flying Spagetti Monster. Thou shall have no other monsters before me"
-FSM.

The warg riders at some point saw them and it become clearly they were looking for trouble.
The hill gave them an advance as the wargs would get up slower at this point.
While everyone had drew his weapon arrows fell from the right. It was Albaron.
' At least he will help at this time.' Turgwaith thought staring at him.
Then arrows flied off by his sides of the head. He was surprised in the begin but one of the arrow killed one of the orcs and he fell from his warg.
The warg didn't stopepd of course. They came charging on them and althought they hit them while they got on the cliff the warg in front of Turgwaith grabbed his hand and dragegd him away from the cliff.
His hand was in pain but he head to kill the warg. His body was also in pain as he was hitting on the ground. He manage to stab the warg with his sword and the head and suddenly everything stopped. His sword left his hand and he was thrown away.
But that wasn't the end. He got up with his hand wounded from the warg's teeth. Bllood was running but it wasn't so much. He hide his wound under his cloak.
The orc rider was still alive and with a shield and a sword he came shouting onto him only to die. Turgwaith with his hand stuck and arrow to the orc's head.
He got his sword back and runend as fast as he could holding with force his hand on his wound.

As the wargs and orcs attacked, the clamour of battle and war-voices woke him. He was somewhat startled, but had his axes in hand from when he laid his head to rest. As a warg launched itself over the boulder that Dwalvyn was hidden behind during his rest, he swept up in a fluid motion for someone of his age, bringing his axes to bare in the underside of the beast's belly, the creature's momentum lifting and dragging him before he collapsed to the ground. He let go of the axes and rolled with the throw, drawing two throwing axes and launched them at the fallen rider, one striking of his shield and clattering from the blade it wielded, the second landing with a heavy thunking sloppy thud in his skull. Dwalvyn ran forwards to claim his projectiles and tugged his war weapons free, turning and preparing for more combat.

Hathol watched as the wargs were approaching. The others were sleeping.
He managed to shoot one of the wargs. Albaron had already shoot another one down.
He got his blade and managed to awoke Gramm before the wargs got on the hill.
It was like an earthquake as the wargs passed by him. He fell on the ground but the wargs attacked on his companions.
He tried to pursue the others wargs but they have splitted them. He saw Albaron coming towards the cliff.
Suddenly he felt the approach of someone. He turned and by a second he managed to avoid the sword of the orc he had left without warg.
After some shielding against the enemy Hathol beheaded him. Albaron arrived by his side.
Then while the remaining wargs were fighting a soudn was heard. It was a scream but not of fear.
It send them fear and they froze. It was coming from the forest and sure it was near.
" We are in trouble.." Hathol said afraid.

_________________
"The stars are veiled.Something stirs in the East. A sleepless malice."-Legolas, The Return of the King

Cyllamdir stood up, and with his hand he covered his eyes from the sun to see the warg riders come closer. He sighed. He hadn't expected the enemy would find them so early. How was this possible? He stooped to take his bow, and put his arrows on his back, while he was looking around for the best place to shoot at the enemy and being relatively safe. He saw his companions run around and charging towards the enemy. Then he saw Albaron and Hathol together, and he joined them.

'Try not to die', he said dryly with a polite nod. Cyllamdir took an arrow out of his quiver and aimed for the neck of one of the approaching warg riders. The arrow hit the orc in his breast, and Cyllamdir could see him fall from the warg's back. After he shot a few more arrows the warg was also brought down. But more were coming. Then his eyes noticed a great rock, not too far away. If he could climb it, he would be quite safe.

'I am going over there!', he shouted to Hathol and Albaron while pointing to the rock. 'Follow if you want.'

Cyllamdir ran to the rock and climbed it, and from above he had a nice view of the field. The warg riders were so close now he would soon be surrounded. But he hoped he could withstand them well enough from above. Then he saw a person with a white cloak running away from the enemy, after he slayed a warg and his rider in close combat. It had to be Turgwaith. Cyllamdir quickly fired a couple of arrows to the foes that were followinf Turgwaith, but they were far away and as far as he could see, all the arrows missed their target.

Cyllamdir wasn't happy with it, but he knew he couldn't help Turgwaith out anymore. He looked around from above, and shot arrows down, most of which hit a warg or its rider. But he was now surrounded. He sighed and drew his blade.

_________________
The love of Arda was set in your hearts by Ilúvatar, and he does not plant to no purpose.

Turgwaith kept running towards the others. 'Together we have more changes of surviving.'
Everyone must have noticed that they were more than 6. Probably other warg riders have came to circle them.
Hathol had climbed on a rock as Cyllamdir. " To the wargs!" Turgwaith shout.
Sure the elves know what they were doing but in battle you don't have many choises and time is a tough opponent.
He slashed two wargs and also he finished the riders. Then the terrible scream was ehard again.
It sent shivers throught their spines. The wargs froze, they froze, everyone stopped.
It was more near. Then it came out of the forest...

Sulvan, realising that the wargs and the orcs upon them could not tell friend from foe, discared his bow for the moment, taking his favourite sword from its sheath. He moved forwards towards Hathol who was near, keeping his stance in such a posture that his next attack was unreadable. As the beasts closed in, Sulvan aimed low, slashing his blade at the first wargs front legs. He heard a crunch of bone and knew that one of them had snapped, the warg crumpled and the rider flew feetin their air over his head and the heads of his companions. Leaving them to deal with it, he applied a finishing blow to the base of the wargs neck.

In the miidst of the fighting, Sulvan heard Cyllmadir tell ythem he was going to higher ground and, picking up his bow followed, meaning to use it as a vantage point for his shooting. Hearing an unusualn noisde, like the siound of some great wiounded beast, Sulvan, turned, looking for this new opponant...

_________________
"I am the Flying Spagetti Monster. Thou shall have no other monsters before me"
-FSM.

Seeing another boulder a little way from him with some of the others using it as a vantage point, Dwalvyn began moving towards it. From his position, it seemed that the wargs hadn't really seen him, so it was light working reaching the group. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to see the wargs that were around them, so he decided how best to attack without getting too much attention. As he came upon them, deciding to through blades at the riders at an angle that meant a miss wouldn't hit his companions, he heard the forest's groans. He changed his mind and placed his throwing weapons back in his belt and left his alking axe on the floor, putting his back to a rock, holding his battleaxe two-handed, readying his grip.

There was a rocky peak a hundred yards or so away from the one Cyllamdir was on, a great orc had stood perched on it for a while, watching the battle, no-one had spotted him, he was capable of not being noticed, despite being a very large and very intimidating creature. Once almost everyone had climbed the rock he raised his crude bow and targeted the wood elf. He removed an arrow from the quiver which sat on his shoulder and slung it into to place. He did not rush, the orc liked to take his time and get the job done right. The bow was kept steady by his great brutish arms as the arrow was pulled back, once he felt confident he would hit his target he let the arrow fly loose and leaped from his perch, without looking to see if he had hit. He sneakily faded away from the battlefield, no-one had seen him.

Turgwraith felt a sharp, stinging sensation across his cheek, the arrow skimmed across his face and flew straight into Cyllamdir's shoulder. The elf was forced to the floor by power behind the arrow, although the arrow did not penetrate his flesh, it had merely caught his clothing but he was securely pinned to the floor by it. It was at this point that Kaldor emerged from the forest, he surveyed the battlefield, none of the orcs had noticed him, so he ran up to the closest one, brought the full force of his steel boot into the back of the orcs leg, which forced it to kneel. The dwarf then placed both of his daggers firmly into the orcs throat and spine, killing it instantly.

He looked around and spotted Cyllamdir perched on a rock.
"ELF!!" He shouted "Give me some co-" his sentence was cut short when Cyllamdir was struck by an arrow, at which point Kaldor stopped talking and charged right into the two orcs who stood closest to him, while screaming a fearsome warcry. Kaldor had mistook the blood which came from Turgwraith's cheek as blood from Cyllamdir, making him think that the elf was slain by the arrow. The dwarf rampaged his way through 4 orcs before a large one knocked him to the ground with a great club and began beating him furiously.

While Kaldor was being clubbed by what had now become a mob of Orcs the scream from the forest grew even louder, all the orcs now began to flee, only a few bold individuals remained, but they even they lost their nerve when the creature bellowed it's fearsome cry for a second time. Kaldor sat up once his foes had fled and stared into the forest, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature, but he soon gave up and rose to his feet. He then began limping towards his companions.

"Something approaches, orcs are not wise creatures but i suggest we follow their example and flee from this creature, so we may atleast gain the element of surprise should it pursue us?"

'Is it our fate or is it our mission?' Tyrgwaith thought as the enemies fled in horror.
The creature came out of the woods, terrible and evil. Standing and looking at him and his companions.
Kaldor have said to retreat. But when they were ready to run as the creature took a step they heard horns...
To Turgwaith this sound was not known, "The wood elves!" Some of his companions shout and then a volley of arrows coming from inside the forest landed before the creature. No one could see them.
" Let's run now!" Turgwaith shout with the opportunity that was given to them.

Vrâshgul had seen the dwarf run in fear. He laughed as his little pet ravens returned to him. The brown wizard... Ha, perfect. The bagger-beard will tell them about an evil black numenorian that's looking for a hafling. An evil black numenorian with a spy in their mids. Confusion and distrust will spread. Exactly what Vrâsghul needed. A group of strangers on with a very important quests, always weary of each other, distrusting one another, discussing and arguing about every single step they take.
The first part of his mission has started. And the second is already happening, as the dwarf will run right in to the arms of a little suprise. Big and hairy arms.
To bad for them trolls make such a mess when they play. Vrâsghul could imagine the compagions running away, scatterd, alone, lost. Better give up they'll think. Even when they find someone, the thought of a spy will make them distrust and perhaps even hate each other.

Underneath his iron mask, Vrâsghul smiled.

_________________
We must forgive our enemies...
But not before they are hanged

Kaldor spun on his heels as the troll exited the forest
"Hide" He shouted as he leapt behind a nearby boulder. He was not wary of making too much noise, trolls are famous for having bad hearing, or so he thought.

"Do we fight or do we run?" He asked the companions. He was scared but being a dwarf he was more than knowledgeable about how to fight a troll, especially since his grandfather was a vault warden. As the dwarf looked around he noticed that the birds were still nearby, yet now they seemed to be following him. The birds sat calm as a stream above Kaldor's head despite the fact that a troll was within the vicinity. He spent a moment carefully studying the birds, before he turned back to his companions.

"My weapons are not designed to fight large monsters with thick hides" Kaldor exclaimed as he raised his knives to the rest of the party. "And i doubt any of yours are crafted with trolls in mind. I say we lure it into a trap, perhaps we could force it off that peak or trick it into the river" There was a brief pause while Kaldor examined the creature "We could always run?"
Kaldor had always been told that trolls do not have good spacial awareness, meaning they could easily loose their footing while on a tall peak.

As Sulvan saw the troll lumbering into view from the forest, he had a split second to decide what to do, he was not sure whether he should wish for the troll slain, in order to gain the approval of his companions, but did not want to anger the paymaster in case the olog-hai was a valuable item. Deciding that, there must be other Olog-hai in Dol Guldor, he shouted to his companions;

"Shoot the beast, there are weak spots around thee neck and shoulders!" At that moment, however, he shouted. "No, hold your fire a moment!" as Scarr, a large grey warg leapt from the forest and onto the trolls right shoulder. The beast was surpriseed and angered and would have crushed the warg, had Sulvan not drawn an arrow and fired it a couple of times at its left shoulder. The troll forgot about Scarr, and dropped its club, roaring a challenge at the companions. Scarr fled back into the forest, but Sulvan knew that he would not go far. The troll, charged towards them, and Sulvan wondered what to do....

Many year earlier, Sulvan had killed Scarr's mother and rered her cub, from an early age and then released him back into the wild in the North, he could still recognise the beast, for he had a maul mark across his back. He knew tha Scarr recognised him also.

_________________
"I am the Flying Spagetti Monster. Thou shall have no other monsters before me"
-FSM.

They run a little back and they knew that the short legs of a troll wouldn't arrive them so easily...
" Fire !" They shouted and everyone other that had a bow along Turgwaith aimed and fired at the troll.
' I must aim at the eyes...' He thought and tried to aimed... The armour that was around them made it easy to fidn the spot but more difficult to strik straight into the eyes. The troll little by little arrived them without a wound but then Turgwaith managed to hit one of his eyes. The troll backed with cry shouting from pain. They all run more back as the change was given.

Running and shoot where their plan... They were running as they were faster than the heavy armoured troll... They were running and then they were shooting...
They were aiming for revealed parts of the troll. Turgwaith ahd managed to wound luckily one of the troll's eyes. Hathol was aiming at the neck.
Two of his arrows amnaged only to find the troll's neck but they didn't cause serious the troll.

_________________
"The stars are veiled.Something stirs in the East. A sleepless malice."-Legolas, The Return of the King

Dwalvyn watched the comapny's enemies flee and saw the approaching troll, with a howling warg trying to maul its shoulder. He paid no heed to the words of his companions as he recalled his scriptures on how to deal with trolls. He decided it would be best for them to avoid it if possible and saw it lumbering forwards, warg-free and ignoring arrows. "Flee!" he souted, before darting behind the boulder and waiting - he knew trolls had notoriously bad eyesight and waited for it to pass so his plan could come into action.

Grimric, son of Freahelm, was an archer from the day he held a bow before his wide eyes as a child. Unlike many of the children in his village, the art of horsemanship came much slower but no one in the village could surpass him with the bow. Once he finally learned to ride well, he was selected to join the Riders of the Riddermark along the Anduin.

That was ten years ago.

He didn't fit in well amongst the other riders due to his preference for a bow to the sword or the axe. His dislike of others stemming from the beatings of the village bullies also singled him out but he was a skilled tracker and so he was trained as one of the Outriders of Rohan.

That was six years ago.

When reports of black horses being stolen by orcs came to Captain Gamthur, he led his Eored in swift pursuit and sent six Outriders, Grimric among them, to track them. In three days time, Gamthur's Eored brought the orcs to battle and scattered them but more reports came in so the Outriders scattered to track the various bands. Grimric was assigned to a band that travelled northward before crossing the Anduin to the east. He followed them for many days after the crossing before he realized that there was no Eored to aid him and he quit the trail. Alas he could not find his way home and resigned himself to his wanderings.

That was one year ago.

"Easy, Freya." The grey stopped on the hilltop and snorted, frigid air billowing from her nostrils. Grimric gazed northwards toward the forest he suspected was Mirkwood and spotted a battle in progress. Warg riders and a large troll were assailing a small band of warriors in the deep snow. Both warg riders and the warriors were scattering before the troll, Grimric realized the warriors could be routed if the warg riders regrouped and let the troll doing the hard work.

Stringing his bow and notching an arrow, Grimric nudged Freya into a steady jog down the hill towards the battle. Even a year alone did not dull his conscience, he would not leave the warriors to die. That is, the Outrider reflected, if he could get there in time.

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http://knightscharge.wordpress.com/
- My miniature gaming blog, sorry for lack of LOTR content right now.

The large troll slowly but steadily came closer, and the warriors around him which were skilled with the bow fired multiple arrows at the troll. So did Cyllamdir, but most of the arrows ricocheted off the armour plates or his thick skin. Although it seemed cowarldy, Cyllamdir realised they should actually be running away. It would be foolish to try to bring the troll down in hand to hand combat, and firing arrows at it from such a distance wasn't very effective either.

'Come, we have a chance to get away now!', he said to his companions. 'We can't kill this troll without the risk of losing someone. The wargs have fallen apart now, let us go before they have regrouped!'

And just as Cyllamdir turned around, he spotted a lone rider riding down from a hilltop. The rider came closer quite fast.

'Look.', he said while pointing to the horseman. He knew the men and dwarves may not
have been able to see him at first, but now he was so close everyone must have seen him. Cyllamdir began to move towards the approaching man, and at the same time looking to the troll which was approaching them. Cyllamdir wasn't sure if this rider was good or evil, but from what he had seen he thought it would be alright.

'Who are you? And what are you doing here?', he shouted to the man.
He shivered because of the cold, his hair waved in the wind, but his eyes were focused on the unknown newcomer.

_________________
The love of Arda was set in your hearts by Ilúvatar, and he does not plant to no purpose.

They were trying to overcome the troll but they couldn't... They didn't know what do... To fight or leave...
They have mixed both actions but then they figured out that it would be better to run. Cyllamdir then said...
He said he saw someone...'I hope he is not looking for trouble...'Turgwaith saidbecause of their current status.
The elves could see far but Turgwaith sawhim when he came near. He was a man on a horse. Probably from Rohan.
' Yes I remember those clothes...' He said and the man was going to answer who he was...
Turgwaith cutting him off said "You are an outrider of Rohan..."

As Cyllamdir spurred the party to leave, Dwalvyn heard the thudding of hoofsteps approaching and heard two of his companions asking asanine questions that could wait until post-battle. He took refuge int he fact that they were talking to the newcomer rather then fighting them though - another aide in this battle and potentially the quest would be most welcomed. Regardless, the semi-aged Dwarf focused on the target at hand and saw the troll move past his position and felt the heavy thunk of its footsteps. He sprinted out, charging with both axes flung backa nd put all of his might into the swing with both, embedding them deeply in the beasts upper back legs - he tried to tug them back out and one ripped back, with a small (compared to the beast's size, anyway) chunk of muscle getting ripped out. Unfortunately, the other was pulled fro his grip as both he and the troll bellowed in rage and pain (the latter being the creature's, not his). It fell to a knee and Dwalvyn realised he would have to move so he darted back as the thing's arm swung back, catching him square in the chest, knocking him flying and dewinding him heavily. He crashed, back first, into the boulder he had hidden behind, knocking wind he didn't have from his lungs and collapsed on his front to the floor, trying to push himself up with one hand and desperately wanting to breathe again.