1999-08-25 Elendor

Later, just before the camp is moved into Mirkwood, Gumbart, Ordin, Brican, and Rimli surprise an Uruk (a puppet played by Dworin) sneaking around their camp.




Elendor time is: Twilight (about 8 PM ) on Hevensday, 23 March 3018. In the
Spring sky, The waning crescent moon hangs low in the sky but will soon sail
high upon its nightly course.



<OOC: The Uruk is Dworin's puppet>

South of Taurduin's Mouth

You stand near the Long Lake at it's south-west edge, in sight of both the
Running River to the East, and the Forest River to the North. A bridge crosses
the Celeduin (Running) but the Taurduin has a short free ferry ride on a barge.

In the bushes along the road, a faint murmuring can be heard that grows ever
louder untill it abruptly stops. Then only some ristling leafs can be heard as
quiet descends on the plain and the bushes alike.

As the sun rises slowly in the east, light reflecting on the vastness of the
lake, Gumbart is rubbing his eyes and sniffing the air. He is sitting on a log
facing the lake. Suddenly suspicious, he gets up and looks north, towards the
road. He ducks and tries to hide behind the tree standing nearby.

The sun sinks in the sky and falls below the horizon. Nighttime takes over.

Every now and again a faint sound can be heard behind the trees, slowly
retreating from the open place that the road forms. After a while a shadow can
be seen between the trees.

At the edge of the encampment, sits Ordin's small tent. It's a rugged old tent,
with patches of leather and cloth against the canvas. A faint light glows from
within, emitted from a single candle. Inside, the old veteran Ordin sits.

As Gumbart detects the shadow moving between the trees, he hurries back towards
the camp, trying to keep low, cracking several twigs on the way, silently
mouthing a prayer to all the guardians of dwarvenhood he knows. He runs towards
the first sign of life he sees in the camp: Ordin's tent. He opens the flap and
says, breathing hard, "Ordin! There is something sneaking around the camp. On
the Road! North. Something!"

Perceiving that his movements are noticed, the figure in the woods freezes, the
shadow hovering for long moments perfectly silent. Then all of a sudden the
shadow disappears and a light *thud* is heard as if something hits the ground.

Gumbart steps outside, panik in his eyes. He mutters, "If this is an attack, we
better alarm our cousins, Ordin! What should we do? What?? Ordin!"

From Dwarven Travel Camp, at the opposite side of the camp, Rimle has just
exited from his tent. He was taking a long breath of the fresh air of morning
when he hears Gumbart calling. Suddendly he walks up to the edge of the camp.
He apparently doesn't wear any weapon.

Ordin is given quite a start and is thrown from his cot faster than most his
age as the old miserable merchant abruptly enters, probably to announce
something meanial. But as Gumbart speaks, Ordin is quick to his hammer. With a
free hand the Old Veteran silences Gumbart. With brows furrowed Ordin speaks in
a low voice, "Nay, too much trouble... fetch ye'r weapon and tred lightly."
With that Ordin quickly snatches up his buckler and stands Gumbart to his side.
Ordin scans the landscape with his tired, yet still keen dwarf eyes. Hearing
the thud he slowly moves out to the west of the noise, and slower still, he
moves forward, keeping his head as low as possible, constantly searching for
the figure, assuming a wolf to be about.

Whispering to himself, Gumbart grabs his blade, keeps his head down, and tries
to follow Ordin, a few steps behind and to the left of the warder. The further
they get, the slower he is, falling behind with every step.  As the two are
leaving the camp behind, Gumbart notices Rimli standing about.  He waves
quickly and silenty mouthes a few words. He then points north and ducks out of
sight again. You can follow his position by the rustling of the underbrush,
however.

The eyes and ears of the creature, the more accute for being terrified,
perceive something coming his way. Slowly, ever so slowly, he tries to crawl
backwards without making any noise. Heading to the northwest, where he
encountered a sheltered dell on his way here, he is not quite able to keep
ahead of his pursuers. After some two meters he puts his foot on a thick
branch, tearing the silent atmosphere apart with the noise of breaking wood.
Fast as lightning he stands up, then ducks as he speeds away to the northwest.

Rimli leaves the dwarven campsight.
Rimli has arrived.

Rimli is now at Gumbart's side. He whispers: "let me have a look. We could have
rabbit for dinner". Than he stealthy moves in a circle to approach the noise
source from the opposite side

Ordin growls as he sees the figure stand at full hieght for a brief moment. The
moment was quite long enough to identify the creature. With a quick motion
behind him, he orders Gumbart to circle about to the far east. The motion is
quite fast fluent, almost as though the command would be telling one to run.
Ordin raises his figure and begins to speed off after the orc as fast as any
dwarf could. After seeing the figure, his worries of what lurks are put aside
and visions of victory are thrown in his head as he runs, still staying at the
orc's lower left flank.

Gumbart dashes off to the east, obeying Ordin's command. As soon as he looses
sight of Ordin, however, he slows down again, hesitant and unsure of himself.
Looking back at Rimli, he mutters, "Why do I have to fight in my old days oh
why oh why oh why..." He advances slowly, trying to pierce the gloom with his
eyes. To no avail. Seeing nothing and hearing nothing, Gumbart just stays east
of the area he thinks he last heard the breaking of twigs and the rustling of
leaves.

Seeing that he can't outrun the dwarves, the orc immediately upon reaching the
thicket chooses a thick tree, and looks for side branches. Since they're not
there, he puts his back up against the tree, and with trembling hands holds out
his sword before him, softly wailing about mercy and prizes he might be willing
to pay if only he lives long enough to steal them somewhere.

With a heavy helmet, and ring mail covering his body, Brican makes his way out
of the camp uncomfortly. Obviously unused to the weight of the armour he turns
to observe the immediate area. He clumsily takes a broadsword from a steath,
and starts slashing the bricket and foliage. Seeing Gumbart up ahead, he runs
in his direction, making a lot of racket as the metal armor clunks every time
he moves. As he reaches up with him he speaks softly, "So what is it this
morning, I noticed everyone had left the camp without me, and I thought it best
not to take any chances."

Rimli stiffens as he sees the foul creature standing, as he doesn't wear any
armour. Yet he abruptly wields a short dagger that was hided in his coat, and
even more furtive he moves through the grass to the Orc's back

Ordin slows to a walking pace as he nears the voice of the orc which does not
seem to trail off. With an evil grin hidden by the darkness, he approaches the
huge tree. The old veteran squints as he looks off to the east, unable to see
any movement, until alas seeing the oafish movement of Brican, and yet not able
to tell which oafish young dwarf it is. The old dwarf lowers himself to the
high grass and crawls about the great tree. His armour clanks lightly as it
runs about roots. At that moment he stops and gathers a twig to throw in the
other direction. Now with his war hammer in his mouth and one arm doing it's
best to silence his leather padded chain mail. He does not yet strike, put
takes his war hammer in hand at this point.

Coming at last close to the tree the orc is leaning against, Gumbart grins. He
points the short broadsword in the orc's direction, seeing that he has nowhere
to go but the shadows where he knows Ordin must be approaching. Sensing Brican
and Rimli behind him, he says, sudden confidence in his words, "Drop your
sword, creature of the dark! You are surrounded by stout dwarves. See, Brican,
what we have captured, here?" Gumbart chuckles triumphantly.

Hearing the dwarves coming up to him, and with the sound of breaking twigs all
around, the dark, trembling fiigure turns and again tries to reach for the
lower of the ranches of the tree. After some fruitless attempts he has to give
up, and he turns to face the oncoming danger. Perceiving noises from three
different places that is none to easy and every few seconds he turns his
direction to what new sounds he hears, thus by his own noise greatly hindering
his own perception of the goings-on. Then, as the fearless voice disrupts the
hithertho soft sounds, the sword drops from his hands even before the command
is given and a shriek escapes his mouth between rattling remnants of teeth.

Sneaking up on the ork from behind Gumbart, Brican smiles confidentilly to the
shadow of Gumbart. After a moment or two, Brican quickly runs up ahead of
Gumbart to get a better look at the foul creature. Once he is close enough, he
can see the creature is in absolute panic, from the sounds and movements it is
making in the shadows. Quickly bringing his broadsword to bear, Brican sounds
confidentially, "I have captured this foul creature.

Brashdragh blabbers, "captured, yes captured. No need to kill Brashdragh.
Brashdragh will be a good slave. Brashdragh is mighty strong."

Ordin growls at the endless noise of the rest of the non-warder crowd, seeing
that they could easily be the death of him in any battle. Although wanting to
prolong the end of the orc to hear him cry, only to tell the story countless
times of the fearing orc and the triumphant kill, Ordin rises from the grass
with much clanking of his armour. First to strike with his buckler, attempting
to pin the poor orc to the tree, and letting his free hand be free for later
bashing.

<OOC: Gumbart starts to @emit for the Uruk>

Pinned against the tree, the orc's whining goes on, taking on an air of panic.
"Please good dwarf be good dwarf. Very nice Brashdragh has dropped swords like
saying. Like you said."

Turning to see the rushing Ordin at his side, Brican grows in anger towards the
warder, "Ye dare to attack this defenseless being when he is already defeated,
I think ye need to go get some training and know when the fight is over." He
turns with his broadsword still bearing on the orks throat to Gumbart, "Come
quick cousin, we may loose a prisoner if this warder keeps up his foolish
ways."

Gumbart steps back as he sees Ordin errupt into action. "Stay calm, all of you.
There might be more! Where there is one there are a thousand. Lets get him into
the camp, first," he says, trying to sound in control. Only the slight wavering
of his voice gives away the nervousness. As the orc doesn't defend itself,
Gumbart turns his back to the two dwarves and the orc, and walks back towards
the camp.

Ordin's eyes flare with anger as his authority is challanged by the young lad
and the miserable old merchant. His shield remains pressed tightly to the orcs
chest, and his right arm stays solid, rippled with the muscles that any dwarf
would wear. The spike on his hammer faces the filthy orc, and yet does not
falter. The angered old warder barks first to the lad, "Back to ye'r tent with
ya! I needn't command from one as ye'r self!" Finally Ordin takes his eyes off
the orc for a brief spell to bark second at Gumbart, "I've discussed with ye me
stand in this whole arrangement far before we set out, if ye don't honor me
actions as a warder, I'll slay this foul beast here, and take me warders back
to the mountain by night fall!"

Brican's eyes turn to flame as Ordin orders him about, in steaming anger he
turns to face the old warder, "Ye can take your stinking warders back to the
mountain, since ye don't know your job anyways. I bought this camp here not to
be ordered by the likes of ye, since it is plainly clear now that ye have no
clue. Can't you see that this orc could tell us where others might be, or is
your head too deep for you to comprehend that you silly old dwarf. Nay, it is
better you go back to your tent in shame since you have not thought this
through."

Chagrined, Gumbart bites his lips. His shoulders sag and he drops the point of
his broad shortsword. "Quiet, the two of you!" he grinds, "I said there might
be more about!!" Trying to calm himself, he adds, "Brican, I've taken Ordin
along because we need experienced warders. I guess this is his field now, and I
shall defer to him, eventhough I do not like his manners at all. It has been a
long time since last I travelled with such a crude fellow. Will you come with
me and let Ordin bring the creature along?"

Ordin's eyes dart from Gumbart to Brican, although never having any intention
in the begining to kill the orc, dispite his strong belief that could be backed
by many a story that 'Beasts don't make good prisoners'. His delievers a grunt
to Brican and eyes him up and down for any consealed weapons that may cause a
problem in the future. He does not give any responce to the lad, figuring that
the miserable merchant's words should be suitable enough. Ordin turns his
attention back to the orc. With a fading smile he sheaths his war hammer and
sighs, "This obviously won't make the most interesting of battle stories at the
Longbeard..." The old veteran shakes his head as he withdraws his right fist
and slugs the filthy orc about the face once and relieves preasure on his
shield. With that he fetches the orc and begins for the encampment. Before
leaving Gumbart and Brican, he mutters in Brican's direction, "Mind yer elders,
lad, they may be the only thing ta save ye'r self."

Brashdragh doesn't move, but his attentive eyes are following every move the
dwarves make. He eyes the trees, the shadows, the sword he dropped, he wriggles
very delicately, testing the strength of Ordin's hold on him, and waits for his
chance...

Walking off in a huff, Brican avoids the old warder as he makes his way back
towards the camp. He looks to gumbart and sighs as he catches up to him with
his heavy armour, "Aye cousin, I think it best if I follow your advice, despite
the crudeness of that there dwarf." He quickly sheaths his sword into the
leather steath, and with a look of relief takes the biting armour off.

As Ordin pulls him along, Brashdragh follows obediently, testing Ordin's hold
again as an oportunity offers itself: The orc has to walk around a fallen tree
and promptly tries to walk to the left where Ordin walked to the right.
In the mean time, Gumbart whispers, a little bit too loud, perhaps, to Brican,
"Aye, we'll play along as long as this old fart is usefull! But later his
miserable advice might not be needed anymore, and then we'll just shut him up."
A sour smile on his face, Gumbart walks on and looks over to Ordin leading the
orc. Suddenly he sees the orc drop and trying to wrestle his arm free as he
pulls Ordin over a log lying between them! "Whoa! Halt! He's escaping!" he
shouts.

Ordin stops as he hears bits of Gumbart's banter. His hold on the orc tightens
for a spell, and then releases almost completely, giving the foul beast plenty
of time for escape. Ordin growls in pain as he stumbles over the log and on to
the ground, loosing his hold on the orc and on his shield at the same time.
With a growl and a snort, Ordin chases after with all four until finally
grabbing an ankle and pulling it closer with all his might...

Nodding towards Gumbart, Brican walks with a shrug over towards the camp,
spying gumbart rushing over to the escaping ork he lets out nothing less then a
full grown grin as he sees the old warder struggle with the beast. He however,
leaves the warder alone in the attempt to recapture the beast.

Gumbart runs towards the orc that Ordin is holding, swinging his short
broadsword. "Die, foul creature!" he shouts at the top of his lungs, lounging
for the beast that just kicked Ordin in the face, trying to free itself from
the warders iron grip. As the orc hears the shout and faces the approaching
merchant, he looses his footing as Ordin twists his ankle. With a shout of
triumph, Gumbart throws himself onto the orc and impales him on the wicked
looking short broadsword. With a grin between ecstasy and disgust, he twists
his blade around. The screams of the dying creature cover the sick ripping
sounds of cartilage; dark blood is covering Gumbarts hands as he keeps
struggling with the orc dying under him.

Ordin growls in pain as the orc's foot colides with his left eye. A deep
implanted rock in the beast's foot creates a nasty gash above the struggling
warder's brow. With anger he reaches for his war hammer, but finds it a few
feet from the long he stumbled upon. With curses under his breath, he reaches
for his trusty knife. It makes quite the satisfiying sound as it's unsheathed.
But the knife's moment is shortened, and quickly put to work as he
reastablishes his hold on the orc's ankle and jabs the knife deep into it's leg
and rips upward to the knee. Only now does he notice Gumbart and his victorious
attack. With a grunt he twists the knife and withdraws it from the beast,
examining the black liquid on the blade. With a quick swipe of the blade on the
grass he sheaths it. With a sigh of relief, he gathers up his hammer and
buckler and sits on the grass for a moment.

Gumbart gets off the dead orc he's sitting on and tries to calm his frantic
panting. He follows Ordin's example and wipes his blade, eyeing the gruesome
body all the time. After a pause, he says casually, "To bad he made that break,
we'll never know where the rest of the brood is hiding. I think we'll leave him
here for the wolves. May the creatures of darkness dispose of each other. And
we'll get going as fast as possible." Before he turns away, he checks the old
warder again. "I'm glad you weren't hurt." he says and walks back towards the
camp. Some distance away he spits into the grass and mumbles something
unintelligible.

Ordin eyes Gumbart suspiciously out of his good eye as he closes his other,
which seems as though will bruse quite nicely. Blood from above his brow
trickles slowly down as Gumbart inspects him. With a sneer he wipes the blood
away and looks to the stars witha squint and back to the ground as he uses his
war hammer to steady himself. "Quite he sense of humour Mahal has..." He
mutters as he catches his breath. He looks to the orc with mallice, and then
back to the encampment which sits only yards away. "This could be a problem if
the 'others' spot this..." He mutters once more. Looking back to the encampment
he sees the tents of the foolish, greedy warders, at least five tents in all,
mostly well trained warders that could handle themselves in battle. Then he
eyes Brican and Gumbart with about the same amount of loathing as he eyes the
orc with. He invisions their fates with a grim smile, "Yes indeed, Mahal has
quite the sense of humour." He speaks slowly and softly to himself as he gives
a quick look back to the orc. Soon he moves on to the encampment, leaving the
orc, which may or may not be a trouble to the whole encampment. Onward he
marches to his small tent, where a good nights rest awaits him.

​#Elendor