eh! dems be dmaned orcs! i says we hackem all ta pieces! thrain pulled out his axes and gestured to his comrades to unsheath theres.

*Draken tries to count their numbers, armor and weaponry*

Steady. We do not know what they want. If they would be street robbers of some kind, they would have prepared an ambush or something. And warriors usually dont run around with a heavy wagon that hinders their movement.
Off the street. One or two should stay and find out what they want, the rest can attack them from the bushes in case they are hostile. Can somebody speak their language?

*Draken makes his bow ready, but doesnt put an arrow in yet.*

i earnd a dittle orcish when i was captured in an orc village. if we go peaceful i an trazate.

(thinks: and who translates that heavy dvarven accent to me?)

Maybe we can use those broken walls to our advantage. I wonder if they have seen us already.

*Regran stands at the back of the party and mutters inaudiably to himself and then steps forward.*

Since this is a scouting mission should we not avoid all contact with possible enemies ?

Well, maybe they know something that may help us in the mission.
And we are still quite far away from our destination, arent we? So I dont think that somebody would suspect anything yet anyway.
You are probably right after we passed the gates of Mordor. But now...

Aldrol fingered his daggers nervously as the others discussed their course of action. Although he had fought humans before, he had never even seen a orc before, and he was not anxious to fight the first one he had seen in his life. He stepped foward and said, "I agree with Regran, this is a scouting mission, not a war party, let us be off and not have anything to do with these orcs. However, if our party decides to stay and fight, then I suggest we gather some more information on these creatures before we attack."

I suppose Draken does have a point. It would be good to know the numbers of those orcs before we face them I don't want to face an entire company.

*Regran squints in the direction of the orcs*

Can anyone make them out well enough to count them ?

If we are going to fight them maybe we should ambush them here after the wagon has passed the walls.

OOC: This is a little confusing. Everyone, please remember that if you want to say something to the other roleplayers, asking a question or saying a comment or whatever, please make it a seperate paragraph and put 'OOC:'(Out Of Character) at the beginning of it, like this paragraph. If you're typing your character's actions, speech, thoughts, etc., you should keep that seperate from Out Of Character text and put 'IC:'(In Character) at the beginning of it. Another good idea is to put quotes around speech, and I also like to put a character's speech in its own paragraph, but that's just me.

IC: Baranor frowned, drew his shortbow, and nocked an arrow as he spoke.

"My stomach churns at the thought of letting these foul beasts roam free. If we are not severely outnumbered, let us destroy the creatures! Leave one or two alive, Thrain and I will see if they know anything useful."

The Dunedain watched the approaching orcs carefully, trying to see how well-equpped they were, and if they seemed more like trained soldiers or just regular orcish scum.

They were Orcs, all right, about fifteen of them, there was no mistaking them now. What's more, they certainly weren't friendly, waving scimitars and spears about as they chased after the wagon - but they did not look like trained soldiers. The Dunedan noted the mismatched pieces of armor, the ill-maintained scimitars, spears, and axes, some of which looked more like converted farm implements than forged weapons. Indeed, they reminded him not so much of the armies of the Witch King as they did of ordinary bandits who just happened to be Orcs.

For those far enough off to the side to see, one of the marauders began to run up behind the wagon. A strong axe, wielded by an unseen hand, swung out and smote the Orc to the ground, and others followed behind. Meanwhile, a face, that of a female Dwarf (for those who have learnt to tell the difference between men and women among Dwarves), poked up above the wagon and looked on the galloping beasts drawing it.

[This message has been edited by Beren V (edited 03-15-2003 @ 04:24 PM).]

"Fifteen or so to Six then, and they don't look very disciplined. I say we go and charge them. I don't think they will stand for long."

*Regran starts moving forward towards the Orcs and the wagon*

oy? thrain stands dumbstruck at the sight of the dwarven lady poking out of the wagon.

IC: Baranor launched an arrow at the nearest orc, then dropped his bow and drew his sword. He swung it around with great whooshing sounds as he charged at the orc band, shouting battle cries, ranging from High-Elven prayers to Elbereth to the calls to war of Men, at the top of his lungs.

ooc: what a moron! we dident even give a signal numnuts!

*Regran looks slightly startled as Baranor speeds past him. He then draws his falchion and sprints after him.*

*thrain mumbled to himself* stupid humans...

*some elven swears*
Damn, they're all running into my line of fire! Ah, what the heck! Cant leave them alone.
C'mon, Thrain.
*draws a scimitar and runs towards the orcs as well*

OOC: Did I see it right or is nobody stirring the wagon right now?

[This message has been edited by greywind (edited 03-15-2003 @ 09:24 PM).]

BAH! thrain exclaimed as he unhooked his crossbow and notched a bolt into it. he elf bet ya i can get one between the eyes!

After several of the Orcs had fallen, a barking command came forth from one particularly large-bodied Orc in the back of the band. This one, unlike any of the others, did appear to have once been in the Witch King's armies: his shield bore what looked like the symbol of Angmar, though it was ill-maintained, scarred, and appeared as though it had seen much scuffling since it was made. At the sound of his voice, the other Orcs cast terrified glances back and charged with renewed speed.

As Baranor, Draken, and Regran, charged the orcs they saw yet another figure in the back of the wagon: a gray-bearded Dwarf set in polished mail swinging at any of the Orcs that drew within axe-reach of the wagon.

The Dwarf's axe came swinging down and caught one Orc on the sholder, and he stepped back. Another, armed with a woodman's axe, swung mightily at Baranor, and two others, with more military-looking weapons, came for Draken. For the moment, Regran was being ignored, it seemed.

oy? thrain peerd at the dwarfs next to the wagon and noticed the markings on the axes. OY! dem markins are from my clan! thrain hollerd at the dwarfs in there own language to dont attack anything thats not an orc.

After first blood has been spilled, the orcs started to reorganise.
"They have a strong leader" Draken thought "That will make the battle harder. But he may know about Mordor."
He drew his second scimitar as the two orcs approached. The one on the right swung an orcish scimitar, while the other one was armed with a spear.
Draken didn't want them to coordinate their attacks, so he made the first move.
He charged at the spearbearer, his left scimitar hit the spear to bring it out of the way and in one fluent move his right scimitar hit the orc hard in the side while he was turning and swirling past him on his left side and then fell the orc with the left scimitar to the back of the uncovered head.
But the other orc was faster and smarter than Draken expected. While he was still tearing through bones and brain, the orc already swung his scimitar in a mighty blow against him.
Draken almost dodged it.
The last edge of the orcish scimitar catched him in the side of the breast, tearing through the hood but the chain shirt prevented the weapon from going much deeper. Still, the impact caused some serious bruises and possibly a broken rib. Draken did not know yet. And did not care. The orc parried the first blade but immediately the second blade cut off his sword hand.
The orc looked a bit worried at his hand still clenching his scimitar on the dirty ground before Draken decapitated him.

"Get the leader alive!" Draken shouted.

[This message has been edited by greywind (edited 03-16-2003 @ 04:35 AM).]

Aldrol sighed as most of the party began charging at the orcs without even considering the fact that ranged attacks would be much more approprate in a situation where you are outnumbered. Well, if everyone was gonna run right into the fight, might as well help them out. He drew his two daggers and begain moving foward looking out for some turned backs, things would go faster that way.

IC: Baranor blocked the orc's axe with his sword, gripping the hilt with both hands. He was impressed by the force of the blow. That grudging respect was obliterated when the orc brought its axe back inexpertly, leaving itself open to a skilled attacker. Baranor obliged the ugly thing by feinting a slash, causing it to sweep its axe down to block. It didn't recover itself in time and Baranor drove his sword into its gut, sending it to the big orcland in the sky.

The orc gurgled its own blood and Baranor kicked the dying thing off his blade. Two more orcs rushed him, both wielding crude swords and shields, thinking an advantage in numbers alone sufficient to defeat any foe. Baranor cleaved partially through the shield of the closer one, then slid his sword into its head. The other backed away, then pulled itself together and attacked the Dunedain. Its pause gave Baranor time to yank his sword out of the dead orc and parry its strike. He began driving it around in circles, waiting for it to make a mistake so he could kill it.

Regran faced an orc and waited for it to make it's move. The orc's sword swung down in a mighty arc towards Regran's head but Regran casually stepped aside from the blow and slashed his falchion against the orc exposed belly. Then another orc grabbed Regran's shield and tried to push him to the ground.

In the midst of circling around the Orc Baranor currently was dueling with, a crossbow bolt zapped out of the wagon and pierced through the ugly creature's face. At this point, the Dunedan could see into the back of the wagon, and its contents: four Dwarves, two adults and two children, and barrels and racks of household items. One of the adults was wielding a heavy axe and armored in bright mail, standing in the back of the wagon. The other had a heavy crossbow, was armored in less polished mail, and was closer to the front of the wagon.

Before anybody could take any closer look at the Dwarves in the wagon, however, a snarl barked from the large Orc in the back, who, seeing the tide turn, got another lesser Orc between himself and Baranor, before turning and bolting. At this, the other Orcs who noticed cried out in dismay, and began to scatter, turning their vulnerable backs on the party.

thrain steadly began walking forward while he unleashed three bolts from his crossbow into the heads of the of the orcs that tried to escape. he quickly reloaded and shot the orc leader in its feet so that it fell face fist into the ground unable to walk.

[This message has been edited by zargen rathblade (edited 03-18-2003 @ 02:55 AM).]

Draken immediately went after the leader of the orcs.

Another orc tried to step in his way. Draken, without loosing too much speed, feinted to pass the one side. The orc fell for it and left his defenses open on the other side.
Draken passed the orc on the other side and slashed him hard into the side, hitting part of its arm, cutting through the leather armor into the guts.
The ork broke to his knees and cried in pain, but Draken had no time for the pitiful creature.

He attempted to stop the leader in his escape.

ooc: sigh dummy read my post will ya

Suddenly, and amazingly, the lead Orc got up again, and began to run once more - though not as fast as an Elf could run, certainly not weighted down in his armor. Begrudgingly, Thrain realized that he had turned his foot aside at the last second, and what would have been a direct hit was really only a glancing blow. Still, even that slowed him, and Draken would soon catch him.

THe remaining three Orcs, apart from their leader, scattered in every direction, one of them even running south. Thrain - or Baranor - would have to shoot quick if they wanted to stop them before they got out of range.

A rough voice spoke in the Common Tongue (Westron) from the back of the wagon to those who had just fought many of the Orcs off "I thank you, but you might be?" Speaker, the axe-wielding Dwarf in the back, sounded very weary, and apprehensive, especially considering that he was, indeed, a Dwarf.

OOC: Three head-shots with a Dwarven crossbow? If you're aiming at fairly close range (less than 100 yards), you're already a good shot (which a character of Thrain's experience would be), your targets are not trained enough to be able to dodge well (which these Orcs aren't), and not making that much effort to avoid being hit (because they're bolting away)... I don't know, I think it's reasonable. Now, if Thrain nailed the leader in the head, well, you saw what happened with the foot-shot...

Aldrol was a bit startled at the speed in which the battle was over. He didn't even kill a single orc. Well if all the battles there were going to face were this easy they wouldn't have a problem with this recon mission. The leader was running away but Aldrol saw that Draken would soon catch the runaway. He stoped and bent down to search the bodies and relieve them of any small valuables they might have had in their life and would certinly not need in death. One of the dwarves in the wagon spoke up but Aldrol decided to remain quiet. The dwarf in the group had said these dwarves were members of his clan, better to let family deal with family. He continued to search the bodies.