Frosthold-swords and sorcery

rengadeirishman

Built for comfort
Joined
May 13, 2006
Posts
4,440
Hello All,
starting a new thread for people who love fantasy like i do. there are a few rules that i dont think will be hard to bear

Only Certain races are in frosthold, you can use any character you like if they fit with the races in this world

races

Riada-a race of superhumans, famed for battleskill and magical power, very Celtic type of people, master race of frosthold

Humans-your basic humans, versatile able to do anything really

Orcs-your basic orcs, though not evil they are warlike and barbaric

Dragon Elves- Winged Elves, quite hardy as elves typically go, very mysterious and Magical, defintely more mage then warrior, but have been known to produce quite mighty fighters

Beast Folk-A diverse race of feline and canine humanoids, unable to use arcanum, but they are quite proficient in druidism and shamanism, also excellent fighters

frosthold is a harsh rocky cold incredibly vast island, think of a mix of scandinavia and ireland/scotland

your basic fantasy creatures, but try to lean toward a theme of snow and ice

my characters

Name:prince Cahir MacCernach
race: riada
height: 6'4" (riada tend to be tall)
weight:190
Age:19
occupation: Battlemage
weapons:runeblade (a magical energy blade of great eldritch power, produced by him) Bladestaff ( a wizards staff with axe blades and a sword blade at the top)

Youngest Son of Cernach, Ard Righ (high king) of frosthold, already a formidable battlemage. Rebellious, he left the court of his father to seek adventure with only his sworn blade Forgall as a Companion.

Name: Forgall MacFionn
race: riada
height: 7'
weight: 275
age: 49
occupation: Warrior, sworn blade of Cahir
weapons: Battle Axe, Halberd, Longsword, various knives, Longbow

Forgall is a veteran of royal service, one of the warchiefs of King Cernach's fianna, and numbered among the kings Six Dragons, he became Cahir's sworn blade at the prince's birth. Considered by many to be one of the Most powerful warriors of all the riada, second only to King Cernach and Crown Prince Padraig.

id appreciate it if people did their character intros like that, cause it makes things easy for me. thanx and hope you have fun
 
I love fantasy and this sounds like a promising thread. Here is my char description.

Name: Radd MacCairn
Race: Riada
Height: 6´5"
Weight: 244
Age: 29
Occupation: Warrior
Weapons: Longsword, longbow, dagger

The most powerful swordsman of the MacCairn clan. Have always been in the shadow of his older brother Carn. Carn is the next in line to take their fathers place as chieftain of the clan. Even as the two brothers compete in everything and the rivalry between them grow, no one can question their devotion towards the clan.
 
Cahir and Forgall

ooc:excellent, thanx for the interest, the first events are happening in stonebridge, if u want to be there for them.

IC

Cahir pulled his cloak closer around him, walking slowly toward the town of stonebridge, right into the teeth of the snowstorm. "Are you okay majesty?" asked Forgall, the old warrior was stiff and unbending as the trunk of the oak tree even in the furious wind. "Here majesty." Forgall said, seeing how much Cahir struggled, He walked in front of the young prince creating a space for Cahir to walk behind him unmolested by the strong wind. "Thank you Forgall." he said, to his aging sworn blade. "We're on the outskirts of stonebridge" Forgall said to him. "I've reserved a table and two rooms at the Headless goblin for us. If it pleases you." the old warrior looked at him hopefully "It does that Forgall, it does that."
 
Radd MacCairn

The snowstorm had appeared with no warning. Radd MacCairn was glad that he had decided to stay in the warmth of the headless goblin a little longer. His stomach was full with food and his thirst silenced by ale. "Bring me another ale Shila." He smiles at the tavern wench as she approaches him with another jug.

He had not planned to stay this long but he did not dare to go out in the hazardous storm on his long travel home. He could not complain staying here though. It was warm and by the looks Shila kept giving him it seemed he did not need to stay alone if he had to stay the night. It was not so bad afterall.
 
Cahir and Forgall

Ashkhan stared at the town of Stonebridge. "Why of all the pathetic towns in frosthold would the Sanguine King want us to attack this one?" he said to himself. "No matter, Prepare to march on the town!" he hollered at his soldiers "Spare no one."
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Cahir stumbled into The Headless Goblin, and basked in its warmth "Ale and roast pork for his majesty!" Forgall roared "Please sit down and get warm your majesty." he said to Cahir. One of the tavern wenches came to their table with the beer and pork. "Thank you." Cahir said to her with a smile "Anything for your majesty." she said to him with a wink "Forgall, this was an excellent choice," Cahir said with a glint in his eyes "I am glad you approve your majesty." Forgall replied with a chuckle.
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"An excellent choice indeed" Cahir thought as he relentlesly pumped the barmaid later that night. Suddenly her moans were interrupted by a scream of terror from outside. Forgall burst into the room and saw Cahir atop the barmaid "I am sorry your majesty, but stonebridge is attacked!" Cahir immediately leapt up and pulling on his robe and weapons said "We must aid them!"
 
Cahir and Forgall

Cahir and Forgall rushed downstairs, Cahir preparing a spell while he ran, they burst into the street facing a large warband of orcs, goblins, and roclings coming into town. Cahir finished the spell and let loose "BOAGRIUS" he yelled his voice filled with the power of the arcane language. a blue wave of energy punched a huge hole through the enemy line, causing them to halt briefly and illuminating their shields. "The Sanguine King?!" The militia yelled in fear seeing the bloody crown and sword symbol on the enemy's standards and shields. "No matter, Your Highness please run." Forgall said to Cahir, readying his weapons, "I will hold them while you make haste to Frostcrown to warn King Cernach." he said with that look of a warrior prepared to die to defend his prince. "I'll not leave you to die Forgall!" The prince said forcefully "You man, ride to frostcrown, tell the king that stonebridge is attacked!" the man stared at him unsure "GO! By the order of Prince Cahir MacCernach!" the man left "Command is yours Warrior Forgall," The commander of the militia said.
 
Shila McDougal was all of eighteen years of age and had worked for four years at the Headless Goblin tavern. It was wicked place with much drinking, gambling and whoring. Though young, she was impressive with a long mane of fine red hair, and largest breasts of all the barmaids. She was one of the few barmaid not related to a man in town, and at times the proprietor of the inn took certain liberties with her.

Tonight she had served a nobleman. He was rich and handsome. She had played her normal games with him and after much wine, she had been encouraged to show him up to his room. Not surprisingly after some more wine or something that tasted very strong, she had been locked in a loving embrace and soon found herself naked with the nobleman riding her at their mutual pleasure. She had no appreciation for the noise she was making between her moaning or the thumping of the bed against the wall.

As she was riding her noble lover, she screamed when an intruder barged into their room. With only a candle casting a soft red glow across the room, her ample breasts and big nipples were prominently displayed. Her furs lay on the floor along with her dress and garments.

She didn't really understand all the panic. At times there were always skirmishes and raids. Women folk knew it wasn't safe to be out at night and the best protection was a good strong man.

Shila fell to the bed as her lover jumped up, to join the combat occurring outside. As he scurried away, she shamelessly took her naked self and watched the ensuing action from the second story window of the tavern. Unknown to her, the light being her made her a very desirable target to the raiders....
 
cahir and forgall

Forgall was fighting 4 fell orcs. he had his axe and his sword in his hand. the orcs charged him. He roared and ran at them, felling the first with an axe to the head. He parried another and drove his sword through its neck. One caught him with a lucky slash to the arm, he turned around and killed it, and took the head off the other.

Cahir was throwing magic all over, swinging his runeblade and bladestaff with reckless abandon. Looking up to the tavern he saw the barmaid that he had been riding in the window, he gave her a wink, and continued fighting.

The Sanguine King's warriors ran off, and the militia gave up a cheer. For the raiders had been driven off with only minor damage to the town, and only a few civilian deaths. The militias warriors had lost many men, but no more then they expected.

Cahir ran back to his room, hoping to pick up where he left off
 
The orc raid had been purposeful and lightning fast. A main group of orcs had created a distraction and had drawn out the local militia into hand to hand combat. While the skirmish was taking place, a smaller band of orcs had infiltrated the tavern and liberated a number of casks of ale and foodstuff. On exiting the tavern, one particularly astute orc had seen a beautiful woman in a second story window. Between her long red hair and huge breasts he was salivating for her. Not wanting to miss his own opportunity at finding a mate and impressing his tribesmen, he climbed up the wall and broke into the room.

Shila had screamed and fought the large orc to the best of her ability. He was a hairy ugly brute and was armed with a crude club and wooden shield. In comparison to the full grown male orc Shila was tiny and was easily subdued with a few blows to her head. Once she had collapsed onto the floor, the orc had simply wrapped her in a fur from the bed, and then hauled her up on his shoulder. Being so big and strong, he simply climbed out the window and then back down the wall before escaping with his clansmen.

To anyone returning to the room, they would feel a cold draft as the orc had pushed away the furs that had been covering it. The onlooker would see smidgens of blood on the floor and bed. The room was slightly tossed about from the combat between Shila and the orc. At the window, on the cold white snow they would see drops of blood.

Looking out the window, they would see a red haired woman being hauled away by the escaping thieving orcs along with their plunder and bounty.
 
Radd MacCairn

The attack on Stonebridge was the last thing Radd McCairn desired. It may be just what he needed though. The bar maid had went upstairs with a young noble, so Radd had kept on drinking ale after ale. He heard the war cries of the raiders and the panic spread through the town.

His blood got warm with bloodlust as two orcs appeared in the doorway to the tavern. With a cold smile Radd stepped up to stand before the dirty bastards. He drew his trusted longsword as the two orcs growled and charged towards him. Fueled with cold rage Radd avoided their axes and beheaded the first orc with a swift sideswing and then turned to face the orc that passed him. The alone orc stood there, unsure of himself. The confidence left him as he saw the headless corpse of his comrade on the floor. He turned to flee just to catch a thrown dagger in his exposed neck.

Radd withdrew the dagger from the orc´s neck and wiped it clean from blood using the orcs stained tunic. The battle was raging back and forth in the town and Radd joined it. His cries of joy was soon mixed with the cries of despair and pain.

The battle was short and intense. When it was over Radd was covered in both his own blood and the blood of orcs he had killed. This was just what he had needed. Quite tired he returned to the tavern to see if there was any ale left. He needed something to wash away the taste of blood in his mouth.
 
cahir and forgall

Cahir saw them carrying away the barmaid through the window, He bolted downstairs, yelling for Forgall, he runs into another warrior. "My apologies warrior, I am Prince Cahir MacCernach. The orcs have taken a hostage, and I am given pursuit." Forgall rushed over and took a knee "Forgall, come we give chase, they took a hostage." "As you wish your majesty."
 
If it is not too late to join...

Name: Darra O’Ferducha
Race: Beast Folk
Height: 6’ 4”
Weight 240 lb
Age: 35
Occupation: Shaman
Weapon: A staff, infused with the mystical powers of his ancestors.

Darra is the fallen leader of his clan. A canine Beastman, he was engaged in an affair with a woman from a rival feline clan. Such treason in the eyes of his kinsmen is unforgivable. He has been driven from the mountains of Frosthold and must know fend for himself, the archetypical lone wolf.

I apologise for the length of this post, I hope you don’t mind, but I suppose I got slightly carried away.

IC

Darra stopped, exhaustion beginning to take its hold, and leaned against his staff. How long had he been walking? How long had it been since he left the great Western Ridge and had moved into the lowlands? Whatever the case, he had brought the mountain snows with him; that was certain. In truth, he didn’t know whether he was joking or not.

Darra’s crime had not been to fall in love with an enemy. No, love was too strong a word – it had been lust, plain and simple. Her graceful curves, her sensuous voice had stirred his blood and his desires in a way the women in his clan had never done. They were aware that such activity could only remain a secret for so long, that eventually they would be found and no doubt punished.

But he never expected banishment! He had been their chieftain! For almost ten years he had controlled his tribe, defended them from harm, kept them fed and sheltered. But this winter had been difficult. Food had been scarce, and it was only a matter of time before the tribes of the mountains began squabbling for the scraps. That was how they had met, with her clan pouring over the peaks surrounding their valley, a plague of locusts intent on devouring all they found.

It did not matter now. He should be thankful. At least he escaped with his life. Her tribe were not as merciful.

The wind was finding its way under his cloak and the thin layer of fur across his body was doing little to keep out the cold. He needed to find shelter and, more importantly, food. The crows flying above him caught his attention. Somewhere nearby was death. But then this was the land of humans – death was to be expected. Darra took his staff in both hands and drove it into the frozen ground. He formed a fist with his right hand, squeezing tightly until he felt his claws pierce the skin, drawing small droplets of blood. He placed his hand palm down on the ground, making his sacrifice to the earth, the provider of life, and clutched his staff in the other hand. A thousand years of shaman blood coursed through Darra’s veins, began to boil over, then subside, as he entered a trance. Soon he was within the mind of a bird above him, saw what it saw.

The crow was flying towards a small town. Clearly some skirmish or other had recently occurred. The wounded were dragging themselves to the nearest inn, while the dead were carried away, orcs thrown into a pile, no doubt to be buried or burnt. Changing his view, Darra caught sight of another orc running away from the town, holding a large bundle over his shoulder. Far behind the beast warriors were giving chase. They may have been swift, but Darra knew as the orc moved further into the wilderness, he would most likely have better knowledge of the ground, and if he was in any way smart (which was unlikely, but possible) could make his escape.

What did the troubles of men matter to Darra? He had more pressing concerns-

A sound behind him stirred Darra from his trance. Wrenching the staff from the ground, he immediately took a defensive position, crouching low and preparing to strike. But he was surprised to find behind him a woman. She was old, wrapped tightly in an old shawl.

“What are you doing here, old woman?” he asked.

“I have come to show you the way, Darra,” she replied quietly.

“You know my name?”

“Of course. You are Darra O’Ferducha. Darra of the Dark Men, the wolfmen who hide in the mountains, away from all others and the problems of this land. But you may hide no longer.”

Clearly this was no simple old woman. “What are you? A witch?”

She laughed. “No, I am something more than that. Something else. What I am will be revealed in its own time, but it is not important now. What did you see, Darra?”

“The inevitable result of violence. Death and sorrow.”

“And?”

She already knew, but clearly she wanted to Darra to say it. “An orc running towards the forests, with something or someone over his shoulder. And a group of men following. But they will not reach him.”

“Yes they will, Darra. Because you will help them.”

“Why should I get involved?” he asked, somewhat defiantly.

Her tone suddenly became colder. “You do not know who I am, Darra O’Ferducha, but know that you do not wish to cross me. You will do as I say. You will travel into the forests. You will guide them towards the orc. And when they have retrieved the girl, you will bring them back to me.”

“Why do you want them?”

“Because there is a great darkness creeping across Frosthold, Darra. You can feel it in the air and in the earth, I know you can. You know it must be pushed back and prevented from enveloping this land completely. If you want to someday return to your clansmen, then you will do as I say, or you will never have that chance. Now go.”

The light was intense and forced Darra to look away. When he raised his eyes again, she was gone. Darra, infused with an energy he hadn’t felt before, turned and raced towards the forest. He would be there before the men, and should be able to open a path for them.
 
Cahir and Forgall

OOC:never too late, and i encourage long posts

Cahir and Forgall, kept running but they could not catch up with the orc. Still, They were hardy Riada and would not stop tracking him. "Cumhra" Cahir said, and Forgall and he felt a renewed burst of energy. They would catch him eventually.
 
another new addition, if I may.

Name: Dalion Tah'ladrias
Race: Elf
Height: 6´9
Weight: 185
Age: 129
Occupation: Swordsman/Battlemage
Weapons: Elven Longsword, Hunting Dagger, spells mostly specialized on speed and self-concealment.

Description: Dalion is the eldest son of a family in the Elven nobility. His skill with the sword is unmatched among his generation and he's also learned to tap into the magical arts. His features are avian with long, flowing hair the color of the sky, usually tied in a pony tail, and piercing amber eyes. Despite his age, he is still considered quite young and he appears to be no older then a man in his late 20's.

His weapons are well polished and his armor - light plate over chain mesh over which he wears a robe of midnight blue - fits his slender but well-toned form like a second skin. When he speaks, his voice is deep and soothing.

Somewhat of a maverick to the Elves, Dalion much prefers spending his time honing his skills and exploring the world then the politics and petty rivalries typical of the nobles.

IC:

A soft series of beating wings preceeded a soft "klak" as armored boots gently collides with the hard gravel next to the corpse of a fel orc. Dalion sighs and wrinkles his slender nose in disgust, quickly scanning his immediate surroundings. The forests he knew well, but rarely if ever did he set foot in a town, especially a human town, but an orc raid was nothing to be ignored.

He slowly walks to the edge of town, easily following the trail or destruction left by the orcs and ignoring the few expressions of awe the villagers cast his way.

He gracefully sinks to one knee and examines the body and tracks, showing a half dozen more orcs -one of them carrying a burden or simply much larger then the rest- pursued by a pair of the Riada, not too far behind.

Dalion looks ahead and gives a slight, mischievious grin as he takes to the air with a single beat of his powerful wings and gives chase, weaving easily between the trees. He doubted the Riada would need help, that is, assuming they could catch the orcs...
 
Ooc

OOC: Im always happy for more people, and your characters are all good, keep it up everyone.
 
Darra O'Ferducha

The orc had reached the forest edge and entered without hesitation. Clearly, he knew these forests and their secrets well. Darra was not far behind, entering from another direction. He was not sure whether the men had seen him. He paused to catch his breath. Looking down the gentle slope, he could see the two men, and was surprised to find them still running at a furious pace. It seemed that they were more than men – Riada, perhaps. Darra was not entirely familiar with the race, but he could recognise the characteristics.

He turned back towards the gloom of the forest. He was still bristling with a new fire burning in his chest. What was this? Of course – the thrill of the hunt. Darra had spent many years caging his animal instincts behind the sacred aura of the shaman. But now he was on his own, free to unleash the beast within him again. And it felt wonderful.

He sniffed the air. The orc’s stink was easy to find, but there was another smell, the unmistakable metallic scent of blood. For a moment, Darra feared he was too late. But his fears were allayed when he caught sight of the orc. He was standing over his prize. Darra could not see clearly, but it seemed to be the body of a woman, wrapped in furs. The orc pulled back the cloak covering her face. Indeed she was a fine looking beauty, despite a visible gash on her forehead, with a long mane of fiery red hair. She appeared to be naked underneath the furs, and as the orc pulled them down further Darra saw more of her, particularly two large globes resting firm on her chest, her slim waist curving into nicely rounded hips. He felt a stir between his legs at the sight. He could see to such things later, but for now he had to clear a path to the orc before the beast ravished the young maiden.

Darra knelt again and placed his hands on two trees standing either side of him. With his head bowed and eyes closed, he began to recite the incantations, words in a language that had died with the race that formed it. The trees awoke to his whispers, their branches moving slowly, their trunks bending and twisting. The path would be easy to find, but not so obvious that the orc would realise what was happening until it was too late.

Looking up, Darra could see that the orc clearly had other things on his mind. The beast had begun to stroke himself through the coarse material of his robe, and it seemed clear he intended to have his way with the girl here. Darra considered attacking the creature himself, but he had to remind himself that whether he felt it or not, he had not eaten or slept properly in days, and that would certainly be a hindrance against an orc this size.

But Darra could use the darkness of this place to his advantage. Once more he channelled his mind into the energy of the earth around him. He called out for those animals and creatures that hid in the shadows, whose howls and cries crept into the hearts of men and instilled fear. He could hear them quietly making their way towards him, not straying from the darkness. They acted as a malevolent presence, causing the orc to turn his head. The beast peered into the shadows but could see nothing. He turned back towards the girl, but it was clear his base instincts had been overtaken by something else. He bent down and began to wrap the maiden up again. If he chose to move, Darra would follow. He could easily form a path that would lead the orc straight into the Riada.
 
Cahir and Forgall

Cahir and Forgall reached the edge of the forest. "My prince, I must voice my opinion that we should stop here. The orc must know this place better then we, and in the darkness, we could easily be ambushed." "No matter, we press on, but more cautiously." Cahir said and they entered the forest.

OOC: I want to make a point of saying that these are called fell orcs, as opposed to the noble, honorable Orcish mountain kingdom of Dar'kar
 
ooc

there seems to be a disagreement between the posters...but are we pursuing a single orc or several?
 
Ooc

OOC: one orc who took the barmaid, that one orc is lagging behind the others. Cahir and Forgalls objective is the orc with the barmaid, but they are prepared to fight anything that appears
 
Shila was groggy from the beating the orc had given her when he had captured her. Though wrapped in a black bear fur skin from the bed at the inn, parts of her legs and arms were exposed to the cold winter night. Looking over the orc’s shoulder, she could see flames in the town. She wasn’t sure which buildings the orcs had fired but it was clear they were successful in their raid.

The brute of an orc, was strong and tireless as he ran and ran with bouncing up and down on his right shoulder. Though her breasts were huge and pillowy, the weight of the motion and the pounding were causing Shila great discomfort. The smell of the orc reminded her of rotten eggs. Though she squirmed and screamed, the beast ignored her, as he squeezed her tightly. Shila knew of the strength of orcs. This orc was big, and effortlessly carried her, his wooden shield, and a large club that was crudely tied to his waist with a leather strap.

Straining to look forward, Shila could see the darkness of the night forest. If the orcs reached the edge of the forest they could comfortable evade any pursuers. She doubted the pursuers would come for her, but they might come for the plunder seized during their daring night raid.

Having nothing else to do but panic about her impending rape, death or forced submission into slavery, she thought about the orc raid. It had been highly effective and seemed more planned than she would have expected from the orcs. Someone had organized them and there had been purpose in their actions. They had been there to steal more than the usual plunder of food, grog, women and gold.

From her window she had witnessed the orc raid. There had been two raiding parties acting in unison. The first band had created a diversion and had targeted the stables and town stores of food and ale. With the first band surprised the few guards they made haste in their plundering but then retreated with the eventual summoning of the town’s militia.

The second band had been more devious. Shila guessed that someone had either hired the orcs to conduct the raid or was controlling them. This smaller group had penetrated the home of a local magistrate. They had butchered the inhabitants and stolen some sort of chest. Shila had been about to report the matter and had been in the process of dressing when unexpectedly her room had been invaded and she had been captured.

As she pondered her fate, she now realized the orc that had captured her must have been the last of the orcs, and had no doubt seen her naked image against the window. She had been foolish and was about to pay for her it.

“Ohhhhh!” Shila screamed as the orc dropped her to the frozen snow. He spoke in a mixture of grunts and growls but Shila did not comprehend a single word. Looking into his monster face, Shila could see his dark beady eyes and the lust contained within. For a moment he pulled open the furs and examined her. She gasped in horror unsure if he was planning to rape her or to murder her right there. There had always been stories of orcs in the towns and villages where she had grown up. Some peasants swore than the orcs ate their victims while others believed the prisoners from their raids were sold off as slaves to nomad traders.

The orc touched her long red hair and she cringed in response. Rather than attacking her, the orc pushed the fur closed and threw her back up on his shoulder. She could sense there was a noise in the near distance. In the pitch black night she couldn’t see if there were pursuers. She knew the forest was now unnaturally very quiet. Something was happening for the orc who carried her seemed to be waiting for the pursuers. Rather than abandoning her so he could fight, he hadn’t bother to draw his club; instead he seemed to be using his sense of smell.

As Shila squired on his shoulders, she felt a firm smack to her rear end from his strong hand. Instantly her resistance melted. The orc resumed his flight deeper into the forest. Her inner sense was telling her that something was wrong. Her fate was likely sealed, yet, the orcs were up to something far more than the locals expected.

Twenty paces later, Shila saw a few dozen orcs hidden in the trees with a mixture of crude bows and heavy crossbows at the ready. There was a woman with them, richly dressed in black of a dark sorceress, she was beautiful and obviously in command. The orcs were targeting the small pass through which she and her capturer had just come through. Shila was about to shout out a warning but the orc bashed her to the side of the head, sending a flash of stars through her brain and then unconsciousness.
 
Dalion took a moment to study the pair of Riada from high in the trees before kicking off and resuming his pursuit, the steady beating of his wings barely audible except to the sharpest of ears. The darkness of the forest proved little hinderance to his keen eyesight, and he soon spots the group of orcs in a small clearing ahead along with the one and its burden - the body of a young human girl.

He senses the shift of the forest and its beasts but makes no sign of it as he silently lands in the shadow of a large, ancient tree and draws his sword; elegantly curved with runes along the lower half of the four-foot blade.

Dalion makes a quick head count of the orcs and scowls; at least four dozen and too many for him to take on alone, not counting the dark sorceress leading them. He deftly slides between the trees, the shadows and his own spells keeping him concealed as he waits for the Riada and an opportunity to strike...
 
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Cahir and Forgall

"look at that" forgall said to cahir "A band of orcs, and a sorceress leading them, what in hellfire." "Forgall get out your bow," Cahir said readying a spell "Are you mad your majesty, we dont stand a chance." "Do as i say forgall, there something about this girl that tells me we need to save her." cahir said finishing his spell, forgall grudingly strung his bow, and took an arrow. "fire!" cahir said letting loose magic
 
Dalion Tah'Ladrias

Dalion felt the magic before he saw the spellwork, the destructive magics slaying a score of orcs as the arrow from the second Riada claimed another. He cast a quick spell on himself to enhance his movement speed and darts across the clearing to the other side, his blade flashing as he weaves between the orcs, initially slaying a trio and another pair on his return trip.

The fel orcs' immediate retaliation against the pair of Riada halted as confusion stirred in their ranks. However, under the guidance of the sorceress, the majority of the orcs regrouped and charged at the Riada as a dozen or so moved in his direction and peppered the trees with arrows and bolts to no effect.

Dalion darts by the group assigned to hunt for him to the orc carrying the girl, making a quick slash across the creature's thigh. The orc roars in pain as he brings a crude sword down, seeking the cleave the elf in half. Dalion easily sidesteps the blow and jumps behind the orc. "Too slow..." he whispers, the runes on his sword glowing brightly with power as he decapitates the orc with a single swing.

He picks up the girl wrapped in furs and kicks off into the air, gracefully avoiding the poorly aimed arrows and bolts sent his way as he lands behind the Riada, laying the girl gently against the soft earth.

"Is this what you two are seeking?"
 
Darra O'Ferducha

Darra had started following the orc as soon as the beast began pounding further into the forest. He chased after it, and in his haste almost ran into another fell orc, apparently standing as a sentry. Darra hid back in the shadows and quietly sniffed the air. The stench was overwhelming. There were orcs everywhere, and he could hear them murmuring in the dark. He peered into the shadows, and saw a clearing ahead of him. So many orcs – surely the Riada men could not defeat this number alone?

What shocked Darra more than the dozens of barbaric orcs was the woman standing among them. This woman radiated such intense energy; he could sense the fear and awe felt for her in the forest. It was the same sensation he had felt on the mountain, but this was different, it was more malevolent, infinitely darker.

Darra watched when something above him caught his eye. It had moved too quickly for him to see. What was that? Only a mystical being would have been able to travel so close undetected.

He learned that it was an elf quickly enough. The Riada had reached the clearing, and had begun an attack on the orcs. Darra had to commend their bravery, if not their intelligence. The orcs were caught unawares but quickly regained themselves, and began a vicious counter attack. The Riada and the elf were holding their ground, but Darra could not stand idly by while they fought such great numbers.

To his right he caught sight of four orcs hidden in the dark, bows and arrows at the ready. Quickly running behind them, Darra leapt into the fray, howling as he raised his staff high over his head. He landed, bringing his staff down onto the head of one orc. The satisfying sound of the orc’s skull cracking underneath the hard oak staff was loud enough for the other bowmen to hear. Before they could turn to face him, Darra had struck another across the face. Sweeping the third off his feet, Darra dodge an arrow and leaped onto the fourth. The orc put up a great struggle, but the wolfman grabbed him by his head, forcing his thumbs through the beast’s eyes. The orc’s agonised screams did not hide the footsteps of his comrade, now up and brandishing a large club. He swung down, but Darra was able to just avoid the weapon. The orc ran at him, swinging again. Ducking, Darra came up behind the orc, wrapped one hand around its neck, and with his claws digging into the flesh, ripped away the orc’s throat. It fell to the ground, gasping desperately for air before collapsing.

He would pay penance for their deaths later, but for now Darra picked up his staff and ran forward. However, the effort in killing the bowmen had been great. His breathing grew heavy as Darra attacked more orcs. The savagery of his assault shocked even him, but he could not keep fighting like this for much longer. In the corner of his eye, he saw the elf pick up the girl and fly toward the Riada. They were not far from him, but with the orcs between them they might as well have been a lifetime away. The distance was not what scared him, however, when he heard a voice filled with venom and hate.

“You have fought very well priest, but I believe today is your day to die.”
 
Cahir and Forgall

"Yes she is" Cahir said "And who are you?, nevermind battle is joined!" Cahir summoned his runeblade, and Forgall readied his halberd, and they leapt at the orcs "DACHNARUHNA!!!!" cahir yelled.
 
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