Cereidh looks at him with banked curiosity. "It is possible that whatever resides here will not be got rid of in one stroke, like that bound spirit we found."
"That is likely true Cereidh." Wulfgith said with a sigh after listening to everything brought up. "But we are here already, so we should at least try." Wulfgith added simply as she moved and looked over Swiftkiss to see how the mare was healing. "At the very least we can see how bad this place is... Warn others if we cannot succeed."
After a quick morning meal, you begin the relatively easy climb up the trail to the hill's summit and the ruins of the ancient dunedain tower. The trail switchbacks its way along the slope, climbing higher and higher above the grassy plain below. It is easy to see why this was chosen as a place to build. The hill offers a clear view of the plains for several leagues in every direction. Perfect for spotting advancing armies, harassing supply lines, or signaling to or from its cousins further north. A cold wind picks up as the morning continues and clouds start to move in from the north. By the time Wulfgith, Thorgrim and the rest of the fellowship reach summit, much of the sky is filled with dark gray, moisture filled clouds.
Atop the hill, the wind is stronger. Whipping out of the north to lash cloaks and hoods. The fallen stones of the ancient fort lie silent and foreboding upon the hill. The foundation stones of the collapsed wall often covered with dirt, grasses and the occasional patch of hardy heather or stumpy, wind blown pine whose roots dig deep into the cracked and broken rock.
As seen from afar the main tower fell long ago, the stones shattered and scattered across the summit and along the steeper western slope. One short defensive wall tower still stands, somewhat intact to the north along a low patch of crack-riddled wall. A shadowed arch sits at the base of the short structure, any door long since rotted away.
The ruined remains of the central hall and fort are mostly just a few low standing walls with the occasional gap where a gate or other opening once stood. Everything is overgrown with bunch grasses, thistles and other weeds or tough vines.
A quick look around reveals to even the most untrained eye two paths of trampled grass. One leads to the short tower, the other into the heart of the ruined central keep.
Cereidh's graceful prowl features raised shoulders and a steady, scanning gaze, hand never far from her quiver.
"At the risk of sounding like a cliche," she says, "I feel that we are being watched."
Giles nods at Cereidh, and purses his lips. "Sadly, I was just feeling the same."
As they see the various trails, Giles pauses. "Do you see this? it looks like both these trails to the summit are at least a month old. Those wolf trails here and here are far more recent.
"Needless to say, I'd rather follow one of the human trails. How about this left-hand one?"
As they talk, he keeps his eye out, both for lurking watchers and for hungry beasts.
"I agree. With both statements. This place has it's eyes upon us. We should mind out steps and remain close to each other." She added as she gently ran her hand down Swiftkiss's neck.
"Left is as good of place to start as any." She shrugged.
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Thorgrim grunted a nod as the others mentioned tracks. The place was almost as a bad as a city, so many paths did it have. Something has happened to make the place almost inhibited.
"Aye. Let us start at the smaller tower and work our way inward before assaulting the inner keep.
We'd not want to take on the inner-most sanctum only to find our egress cut off."
Hes stomps off toward the smaller guard tower. He makes his own path, as he's never been one to follow in the footsteps of others, and sees no need to start now.
The fellowship circles around to the lonely ruin of the wall tower to the north. Approaching the dark arch, Thorgrim spots the tattered remains of a wool shirt and hooded cloak. The clothing has been shredded beyond any usefulness and is partially rotted from exposure to the elements over several weeks or even months. A strong musky, animal smell drifts out of the shadows of the arch, noticeable from several feet away from the opening.
Cereidh stops, and knocks an arrow to her bow - glancing to either side of her to see if the party will proceed.
Wulfgith paused, rubbing her nose a bit from the smell that came from the area. "Well, that's an animal's smell. I know that." She said as she dismounted from Swiftkiss.
"Or some uncanny beast. The beast part being the relevant part," Cereidh says with false lightness.
Hobwise resumes his role as scout. Entering the small tower, short sword at the ready.
Rain starts to fall as Hobwise slips through the tower arch and into the dim interior. Immediately the distinct smell of animal assaults the hobbit's senses. Strong enough to make his eyes water just a bit as they take in his dim, shadowy surroundings. Dried grass and other debris cover much of the floor. Much of which has been gathered into a pile along the far wall where it is surrounded by various gnawed bones and other debris. To the left and right of the arch are two more areas that contain fur, grass and other linings to make a comfortable space to curl up. Dug out of the packed dirt, these two spots are a bit bigger. As the hobbits eyes adjust to the shadows, he notices the red-gold eyes glaring back at him.
"No hunting tonight, for dinner has come to us." Growls a rough throaty voice from the halfling's right.
"Indeed, not Man, nor Elf, nor even Dwarf, but smells tasty none-the-less." Snarls a second.
"There are others near, even delicious horse flesh. Southern meat, not the tough stringy northern stuff." Snaps a third.
"Call the others, the pack will eat well tonight."
Suddenly the tower echoes with three long howls which are answered from elsewhere on the summit causing Swiftkiss and Thorgrim's mount to voice their fright and concern as the howls of those most ancient of enemies, send primal fear racing through their equine hearts.
From the ruins of the inner keep and crawl spaces beneath the stones of the fallen tower emerge a half dozen wargs, their fiery gold eyes glaring at each of you as they snarl and snap their sharp canine teeth.
Cereidh quickly knocks an arrow to her bow and backs away to place Findegil and Thorgrim between herself and the approaching wargs. As she ghosts backwards, she hisses in an undertone, "If you let them follow me - kill them from behind - I may be able to trick them and confound them with some elf-lore."
Once she has gained distance, she will let loose two arrows, one each into a warg.
Hobwise steps back, luring the wargs outside the protection of the tower where the company outnumbers them, at least for the moment. At the entrance he holds his ground, using the archway as a bottleneck so that only one warg may attack at one time, while allowing his archers to shoot into it freely.
Full Defense action.
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Thorgrim had been leading Horse, intending to clear out the tower and stake the animal inside. So focused was he on the coming battle and the mysteries to be found therein, that when the howl is taken up and chained around them, his hands just went to the sword, and only as the beast was stomping away did he think on it.
'Bah. A pox on all animals!' he thinks, his thoughts shifting more toward survival.
"Yes, Hobwise! Hold the portal and keep them penned in! I'll see to the crowd out here!"
To the elf-maiden, he grunts back, "My lady, I have no intention of letting them follow anyone anywhere."
Seeing the wolves, Findegil begins to move.
"To higher ground!", he calls, as he seeks the same.
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Thorgrim frowns at the situation. With the hobbit penning in three foes, it wouldn't do to withdraw and widow him. As the elf loosed her shots, so to did it seem that she would not be putting all effort into speed.
Preferring to hold the ground he had, rather than take a chance on other footing, he runs a short distance and leaps onto a large chuck of fallen column.
"Come! Come you mangy curs and taste STEEL!" he shouts, already his blood burning red and hot.
Giles says aloud, "You are nothing but lies!" as he shakes off the voice in his head.
When he realizes that Master Hornblower is under attack, he aims his bow over the halfling's shoulder, and fires at the nearest warg.
Wulfgith jumped on Swiftkiss once more, that was a rider's high ground!
However she did moved to guard those who still had to get there, she too took aim at the closest one and let loose her arrow.
The three wargs in the tower burst forward as Hobwise quickly falls back to block the open entrance. The snarling creatures press on. The smallest of the three reaches the hobbit first and lashes out with tooth and claw. Pushed by its kin, the creature's jaws rip through the hobbit's leathers as the ferocity of the strike overcome the halfling's frantic dodging. In a second flurry the warg rakes a big claw toward Hobwise's arm and chest but this time he is able to duck back at the last moment avoiding further harm.
Realizing the trap is sprung, Findegil rallies and leaps up to a small set of fallen stones. Part of the collapsed tower wall, the narrow platform of weathered granite stands half a man high above the grassy ground and is just wide and long enough for the warrior to maneuver.
Thorgrim's horse breaks free and dashes south, back down the hill it's cries of fright echoing off the ruins as the rain begins to fall harder. Cursing the horse and its potential loss, the beorning follows Findegil's lead and commandeers a thirty foot span of fallen column that rises a good five feet off the ground. The narrow five foot width providing a stable fighting platform along the stones length.
Astride Swiftkiss, the rider of rohan snaps off an arrow that zips past Hobwise and strikes the attacking warg in the shoulder. But before she can do much more the rider is forced to overcome her mounts rising fear as Swiftkiss seeks to put distance between herself and the vicious wargs.
Cereidh moves into position between Findegil and Thorgrim. The elf tries to get the upper hand on one of the incoming wargs, but she stumbles over a half buried stone sending one arrow flying off high and beyond the perimeter of the ruins. Her second attempt fair no better as a large raindrop smacks directly in her eye. Startled at this foul coincidence the elf's second arrow shatters against stone only a few feet from where Thorgrim stands ready to face the oncoming wolves.
Fending off the lure of the disc, Giles stands firm and calmly lets fly with a feathered shaft that elicits a yelp from the warg attacking Hobwise from within the tower as it sinks deep into the creature's flesh.
The beasts outside the tower close in. Those closest to the fellowship scramble forward leaping across the stones and quickly covering the intervening distance. The first charges the mounted Wulfgith, it's snarling jaws miss, but a claw rakes across the riders leg tearing cloth and flesh.
The second charges Thorgrim's position but it is foiled by the warriors sudden move onto the column and both tooth and claw miss.
Cereidh scrambles up onto the decayed platform provided by the tower ... and fires again into the wargs, specifically at the one that attempted to attack Thorgrim.
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Throgrim's eyes grow red and bloodshot as the cries of the night mix with the growling of the wolves and the world crusts over in little save bloodlust. He SINGS the SONGS of the ANCIENT KINGS and upon him comes...The Berserker Rage.
Noctacide sings with joy as it weaves a web of STEEL in the air and slices down upon the wolf, just as a brace of clothyard shafts fired from Elven hands find the beast's vitals.
= 30
= 15
Seeing red as Giles' arrow strikes true, Hobwise holds his ground, continuing to duck and parry and stymie the beasts inside the tower while the other members of his company thin the ranks behind him.
Full Defense Action.
Wulfight calmed Swiftkiss with but a word before she looked from where she was to Hobwise. She could grab him and lift him onto her horse like she had before, but it would still leave the pair surrounded... Thin the lines first. Then get away. She focused on the warg before her and let loose an arrow.
Giles continues to fire over Master Hornblower's shoulder. He attempts to use the brave halfling's movement to his advantage, hitting a tender spot on the wolf.
Hobwise continues to duck and dodge while blocking the arch and penning in three of the growling wargs. His stalwart defense serves him well as this time the leading beast can't find a way past the hobbit'c crafty defenses.
A few paces away Thorgrim's steel blade nearly slices one of the foul beasts in half after Cereidh's deadly barrage of hunting arrows slows it down enough for the warrior's finishing strike. The fall of their pack brother elicits howls of fury from the others who continue their charge.
Wulfgith deftly calms Swiftkiss and keeps the horse from following Thorgrim's in a desperate attempt to escape. But the effort costs her a moment of inaccuracy as her arrow slams against the outer stones of the arch sending a sprinkle of rock chips clattering atop Hobwise's head.
Not distracted by a skittish mount, Giles' arrow flies true and another shaft sinks deep into the warg's flesh as it tries to find a weakness in the hobbits whirling defense.
Findegil stands firm against the oncoming wargs, waiting until they close before delivering his next blow. The Gondoran's wait isn't long as moments later one of the next wave of creatures attempts to drive the knight from his perch. Findegil easily and deftly avoids the warg's attempts to reach him.
Wulfgith is not so lucky. Swinging around upon Swiftkiss, the rohirrim feels the teeth sink deep into her lower leg. Muscle tears and blood flows as a warg pulls hard on the captured limb.
Nearby another warg leaps across long fallen stones and as the rain begins to fall harder charges up to Giles. The breelander is able to avoid the beasts snapping jaws, but not is sharp, deadly claw. A blow rakes across the scholars stomach and upper thigh leaving a long trail of blood.
Hobwise Holds the Door, preventing the trio of beasts from overwhelming the company.
Full Defense action.
Cereidh turns her shoulders to fire at the warg attempting to pull Wulfgith from her seat.
Wulfgith let out a cry of pain as the warg ripped through boot, clothes, and flesh. Not to mention if it kept pulling it was either gonna rip her leg off or take it out of socket.
She followed up Cereidh's arrows with on of her own!
"Thorgrim! Little extra help?!" She requested.
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Thorgrim relishes the blood and the stench of the fresh kill. His sword seems to dance upon the wind with the same joy as its master as songs of DEATH and GLORY are carried upon the air.
"All are gathered here! Victory is near! The sound will fill the hall bringing POWER to us all!"
He runs and LEAPS from his lofty perch to come CRASHING down upon the foe that so harries Wulfgith and her steed in apparent answer to her beseechment for aid. His two-handed grip upon Noctacide is like a vice of iron and he wades into fresh battle with a song on his lips and STEEL in his heart.
= 20 dmg
Though the blood and carnage of warfare threatens to foul his stroke, so great is his merging with his weapon of choice that a fore-stroke miss takes but a heartbeat to make a back-stroke hit.
Sweat pours out of him as from a siv and his faces contorts into a rictus smile as he makes more WAR.
= 16 dmg
Giles--intent on shooting the wargs that Hobwise is keeping at bay--yelps with fear as he realizes he's now beset with one of his own.
With blood streaming from his thigh, he retreats toward the Beorning and up onto a stone cairn.
At the tower arch, Hobwise continues to hold firm. The hobbit once again dodges the snapping jaws of the warg. The creature falls back just an inch or two, luring the nimble halfling forward in order to keep the way out blocked for the others. The warg's move manages to create a slight opening in Hobwise's defense and with lightning quickness a clawed paw lashes out and hits the hobbit in the side. Although he's able to pivot with the blow, it still leaves a thin line of blood and torn clothing.
In the compound Cereidh and Thorgrim rally to Wulfgith's call. Once again the one two combination of arrow and blade end the warg's life and momentarily eases the pressure on the mounted rohirrim.
Not wanting to be caught between two or more of the dangerous wargs, Giles retreats toward Thorgrim's former perch upon the long fallen column near Cereidh.
Meanwhile Findegil and his opponent spare and test each others defenses, but neither is able to land a meaningful blow.
With two of their number fallen, the remaining two join the fray with chilling howls and throaty growls.
The warg attacking Giles, continues to harass the scholar and manages to land another blow with a quick slash of its claw despite the breelanders height advantage.
The two new arrivals focus on Thorgrim and his mighty blade. Like the pack hunters they are, the beast work in tandem, one feinting and dodging to create openings for the other. The tactic seems to work as the beorning is unable to parry or avoid every possible blow and the enemy lands two mild but not inconsequential blows.
Cereidh switches her sights to the wargs engaged with Thorgrim, and, assuming that Thorgrim will spill plenty of blood himself, sends one arrow each speeding at the fell wolf-things.
Wulfgith was greatly happy to have the pain and pressure taken off of her left for the moment. She didn't focus on it long however as she got another arrow ready, taking aim at the one chasing Giles down. After all she had the help of Hobwise, Cereidh, and Thorgrim. She believed she could focus on helping another instead of attack the ones before her.
Hobwise ducks too late and catches a claw in the shoulder. At least he was moving in the right direction; the cut could have been much worse. With the sense that Thorgrim is making quick qork of the qargs, and the rest of the company is finding its footing behind him, Hobwise continues his dance.
Full Defense Action.
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"My soul has been healed by the POWER of STEEL, and the sound of glory!"
The scratches and grazes of the of wolves are as the buzzing of a tiny insect to the mighty weapon master. He heeds not the tearing claws nor the slavering fangs and wades into the brace of foes SCREAMING.
"And I will fight! Yes I will fight, in the dawn of BATTLE!"
So let it be said, so let it be done. Wailing his song of death and glory, his mighty greatsword rises and falls with eager expectation. As blood flows, his own meager amounts mixing with the greater flows of the howling animals about him, he only re-doubles his efforts to hack and slash about him.
= 18 dmg
"I give no explanation I was branded by the will, bringer of Death and Destruction to all that I now KILL!"
He was blood-drunk now. All before him was shrouded by a great crimson veil, and only the slashes of a deeper red when Noctacide struck true gave any change to the landscape he perceived before him.
The fear of the others mixed with the stark terror and panic of the horses. The inherent vulnerability of the archers blended with the bravery of Hobwise, willfully sacrificing himself to pen up three times his number. It all made an intoxicating air that willed both blade and master onward to even greater deeds of GLORIOUS COMBAT.
"I give no explanation, I was branded by the will, to bring of Death and Destruction to all that I will kill!"
Giles goes increasingly pale, as the blood drains from multiple wounds.
He slashes a thin line into the wolf below him's snout, as he uses his bow in his off-hand in an attempt to keep it's bloody jaws at bay.
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Hobwise continues to duck away from the one warg, but following the creatures frenzied strikes, the other two leap toward the hobbit in an attempt to simply shove him out of the archway. The first mistimes its leap and does little harm as it ends up bumping into the wall more than the hobbit. The second leaps high and unless Hobwise is able to intervene or hold his ground the creature will be free of the makeshift prison.
In the compound Cereidh continues her deadly accurate barrage from her perch atop the fallen column. Thorgrim gives himself over fully to the fury of combat. Blood and steel. Another warg falls, its innards spilling upon the new spring grass. It's companion also takes a mighty blow from the beorning, but this seems to drive its own furious bloodlust. Taken over by his rage, the beorning's defenses are weaker and the warg sees it's opportunity. Jaws rip and tear flesh while a heavy claw slashes and rends armor and flesh as well.
Wulfgith let's fly from Swiftkiss's back and her feathered shaft strikes true against the beast harassing the wounded Giles. The breelander lashes out with his dagger, scoring a hit of his own against the same beast. The beast tries to counter attack, but can't quite catch Giles in his higher position.
Findegil scores a glancing blow against the one creature fighting him and the beast is simply unable to find weakness in the sturdy gondoran armor.
Yes! Yes! Join me my brother. It whispers to your wild soul. You are truly worthy to join with me and together our pack will rule this land. We will hunt and feed and drive the weak of heart and blood before us.
You feel the pull. The sudden urge to rip Giles' pack from his shoulders and take up the golden symbol hidden within. The symbol of strength, power, glory, blood and battle. All of the things too long denied...
Another arrow from the quiver, onto the string and released towards the creature that had Giles pinned down.
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'Nay! You are WEAK!' he cries out to the voice in his head. 'Why would I cleave unto the forces that I now SLAUGHTER with my blade? You are weak, and you wanna know why you're weak? You are weak because you can't--'
"--Fight with blood! Fight with STEEL! Die with honor, NEVER yield!"
Thorgrim takes umbrage that the -thing- would try and mark him as the lame member of the pack to pick upon. Does it think since he is strong of arm he is weak of head? Ha! Let it continue to batter against mental defenses. The people of Beorn might all be sheep to that over-rated skald, but it is a harsh land that does not breed weaklings.
He aims for the last wolf that hounds him. It is a shame. This one is a worthy fighter.
= 17 dmg
So sad that such a dauntless foe should meet its end in so futile a pursuit. But he has no time for softness, and his greatsword rises and arcs down in a deadly cleave.
Cereidh glances over at Giles, eyes widening at his unsteady footing and the warg encroaching in on his space, seeking to tower over and bowl down the Breelander. She sends her next two arrows after his foe the warg.
Sweat pours from Giles' pores, mixing with blood and stinging his wounds.
He hops left and then right, barely avoiding the evil hounds. Looking for the next moment it's about to strike, he slashes again at its snout.
When the wargs leap at him, Hobwise attempts to brace and spin to turn them back.
The wargs are repelled for the moment. The hobbit continues his dance to stymie the enemy at the tower door.
Full Defense Action.
Findegil drives his blade at the malign wolf, aiming to finish it off before moving to aid his companions!
The desperate fight in the arch continues. As the one warg threatens to leap over his defensice position, Hobwise flings his cloak into the air at the last moment. The fluttering cloth is just enough to impede the beasts progress and allow the hobbit to shove it back into the confines of the tower. Unfortunately Hobwise has little chance to admire the move or catch his breath as the wargs throw themselves at his position once again. The first continuing to lunge and snap with tooth and claw while the others attempt to bowl the halfling out of the way. Slipping away from the attacking wolf's blows, the halfling avoids any further damage, but then the second warg charges and leaps in another attempt to get past the stalwart defender of the arch.
In the open ground, Thorgrim fells another beast just as the dying screams of his mount echo from along the southern trail followed by the howling cries of at least two more of the ravaging beasts. This causes Swiftkiss to startle for just a moment throwing off Wulfgith's shot.
But finding her rhythm is Cereidh who calmly places two shafts into the beast bleeding Giles. Giles follows up the elf's success and using his height advantage manages to slash the warg across the snout leaving a bloody gash that elicits a satisfying yelp. But while the strikes weaken the creature, they do not put it down. Perhaps a fatal doom as the creature snaps and manages to catch Giles' arm as he pulls it back from his attack. Sharp teeth rend flesh and bone yanking the Breelander off balance. The stumble costs him further as a claw lashes out and undercuts his legs. The scholar falls, his blood mingling with that of the fallen enemy upon the crimson soaked grasses of Harnalda in En Egladil.
A dozen feet away Findegil slashes and stabs, his blade awakening to the mortal danger of himself and his companions. Two blows leave his foe bloody, but not down. Like its kin, the beast uses Findegil's attack to its best effect and manages to briefly catch the knight's arm with its snapping teeth.
Lightning flashes overhead followed within moments by crackling, ear shattering thunder and the rain falls harder mixing with blood, soil, and the growing dead or dying.
Warg 1: 21/50
Warg 2: 50/50
Warg 3: 50/50
Warg 4: 0/50
Warg 5: 0/50
Warg 6: 11/50
Warg 7: 20/50
Warg 8: 0/50
Warg 9: 0/50