When Worlds Collide (Alagoniel) [October, 3010]

Beriedir
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 16

When Worlds Collide (Alagoniel) [October, 3010] Jan 20, 2019 21:24:48 GMT -5

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Post by Beriedir on Jan 20, 2019 21:24:48 GMT -5

The sick words of the Orcs filled the ranger's ears, their twisted tongue piercing the silence of the forest around them. Beriedir crouched over as his eyes scanned the treeline, he could begin to feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins as the world around him slowly became blank save for him, Goni, and the orcs.

"We should try to ambush them, that might tip the odds back into our favor" Beriedir said, speaking in a hushed tone from beneath his cloak covered in leaves and twigs. Seven orcs to two rangers was a close match, but in a quick skirmish Beriedir would still wager that the orcs had the advantage, for the rangers might have surprise, they weren't in advantageous spot.

Beriedir's mind was racing as he tried to figure out a plan, perhaps he could draw the attention of the orcs and funnel them towards Goni, who could use her bow to pick them off. The easiest way would be to lure them to the water, and perhaps if he could find an easy path across the orcs would get bogged down in the water.

"Well you're a better shot than me from what I can tell, so what if I draw the orcs attention and you start picking them off? " Beriedir replied, part of him distraught at the notion of Goni trying to flank the enemy, for some odd reason Beriedir found himself caring about his new mysterious partner, better him to be in the thick of it right?

"I can lead them to the water, and by that point I can probably the few orcs that remain" he added with a smile, not trying to sound too boastful about his skill with a blade. Suddenly his ears perked up at Goni's notion of a Captain, and his eyes quickly darted across the treeline, looking, searching for his prey. Through the brush he could make out a vile creature, disgusting, more so than its compatriots, a necklace of bloody ears dangling from its neck, yes that was certainly the captain. This creature stood out from its subordinates in a way that only a creature of darkness could, it was bigger, it was uglier, it was far more grotesque than those around it, and it seemed to bark out at those around it in a typical Mordor fashion.

"Good eyes, that ugly thing is definitely the captain we seek" he added as his eyes continued to track the creatures movement, "Whatever we do, we need that thing, hopefully alive" he added with a faint smirk, though he could feel his palms beginning to sweat, it was go time, the now or never, the moment of truth when blades strike blades and the blood flows free.

"Maybe later we can dine on some fish beneath the pale moonlight?" Beriedir joked as he tried to break the mood a little, certainly facing the potential of a painful death needed some comedy added.

Alagoniel
Ghosts of the Third Age

Ranger

Posts: 20
Application: https://image.ibb.co/bPFy08/EHPanoramica_1.jpg

When Worlds Collide (Alagoniel) [October, 3010] Jan 25, 2019 9:27:30 GMT -5

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Post by Alagoniel on Jan 25, 2019 9:27:30 GMT -5

An ambush was bold, though bold did not necessarily mean wrong. Alagoniel looked to Beriedir thoughtfully. There were certainly too many of the orcs gathered to be easily dismissed; even if she trusted her own skill and had no reason to doubt her companion’s based on what she had seen. He had skill with a blade, even if it seemed too accompanied by smiles to be proper.

Ambush, though, was not the extent of his plan. Goni listened, frown increasing as his words passed on. “So you want to ambush them by yourself?” She asked incredulously in a low whisper. Beriedir, though, did not seem to be jesting. She wondered for a moment if the southern ranger was a dash mad, or if perhaps he felt unease behind that grin of his. “The water will slow you down, too,” Alagoniel observed, lips pursing in thought.

For a moment, she considered the plan again, looking back out over the array of foul creatures that had leaked from Mordor. “Go straight for the water,” Alagoniel finally murmured to the man. Perhaps she did not know him well, but it seemed a poor turn to let him get himself killed in this hunt for the creature Gollum.

"Good eyes, that ugly thing is definitely the captain we seek. Whatever we do, we need that thing, hopefully alive."

Alive. Goni said nothing in reply, yet her features hardened and she ran her fingers down the fletching of her nocked arrow. She could do this; she could garner the information she sought, and bring it back to the Chieftain to prove she was still a ranger—not some waste to keep confined to the Angle until her long years passed. Yes; even her father would see she was not a husk.

"Maybe later we can dine on some fish beneath the pale moonlight?"

Beriedir’s words cut through Alagoniel’s thoughts and she blinked, casting her pale eyes to his face with a strange look; she had nearly forgotten she was not alone, so great had her thoughts been on her impending triumphant return to Rivendell. “Then, when you get to the river,” Goni drawled. “Don’t scare the fish away. Ready?”

She did not wait for the Gondorian’s approval; she turned, lifting her bow and training her eyes down the shaft to one of the orcs; the closest orc to the river. If she was going to let some poor smiling fool risk his life, she was going to buy him as much time as possible. Her heart was singing in her chest as she reached for another arrow, her bow thirsting for more ammunition as she ducked once more out of sight.

The cacophony of snarls and cries from the orcs in the ramshackle camp was enough for the young Dúnedain to know that she had stricken some sort of chord with them; if Beriedir was going to draw them away—now was the time.

"If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end, as to be worthy of remembrance."

Beriedir
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 16

When Worlds Collide (Alagoniel) [October, 3010] Mar 30, 2019 14:02:27 GMT -5 via mobile

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Post by Beriedir on Mar 30, 2019 14:02:27 GMT -5

Beriedir continued to grin "Well I guess I'll just have to rely on you to keep me safe" he replied at the notion of Alagoniel's concern. It was sweet really.

However all notions of Beriedir being smitten with his new mysterious friend were quickly cast aside by the rumblings, the grunts, and disgusting laughter of the orcs not far from their poisition.

"Well, here's hoping the plan works" Beriedir said, his tone low and hushed, he was directing those words to himself. For all of his skill, all of his confidence, he could feel the palms of his hands becoming sweaty, the slight tinge of nervousness creeping through him.

This plan would only work if he could get the attention of the orcs, if he could lead them to the river, if Alagoniel could hit her mark, and if Beriedir could slay the rest of the vile beasts. While it seemed simple in nature, there were quite a few steps that needed to go right for this to work, so no pressure.

"I wouldn't dream of it" Beriedir replied in response to Goni's comment about scaring away the fish. He smiled and turned his head to look at her, "You best get in position before I go and stir up some trouble" he spoke, still smiling. However his smile disappeared into the darkness as the ranger made his way closer to the orcs.

Beriedir snuck through darkness and trees alike to get into position. As he crouched behind a shrub, his eyes glanced across the disgusting camp of orcs. The orcs had settled in, but had far from settled down as they laughed, drank, and fought with each other. Their stench pierced the night sky, and Beriedir's nose, and the ranger reveled in his hatred for these creatures.

However their celebration was cut short as an orc let out a scream, and Beriedir fixed his eyes upon an orc falling to the ground, black blood bellowing out of the creature's neck as an arrow found its mark. Oh how he admired Goni's skill, but now was his chance, now was his time.

With blade in hand, Beriedir leapt forth from the darkness, his body quickly becoming illuminated by the fire of the camp, he raised his blade towards the closet oec, and with a downward motion the blade connected with its target, cutting through the weak fabric and leather bits on the creature's chest, it screamed in pain and fell to the ground in a puddle of its own blood.

Suddenly all eyes were on him now. "TARK!" one of the orcs screamed as they all rushed about the camp to try and kill Beriedir. Unfortunately for them another orc dropped as Alagoniel found her mark once more, and Beriedir could sense the hesitation building up in them.

He raised his blade and blocked a slash from the closet orc, he used his left hand to grab onto the chest piece of the orc, and pulled the creature towards him. His right hand still gripping his blade, he brought it down into the shoulder of the creature, the blade cut deep, and the creature howled with pain. With that he pushed the creature away from him, and he took off running towards the river, just as planned. With any luck they would forget about Alagoniel, the mysterious archer and just chase after him.

The ranger cleared the treeline and hauled ass towards the river, his cloak fluttering and whipping about as he moved. By his count that was at least four of the creatures down, so together they could probably handle the rest, or at least he hoped.

Within seconds the ranger had reached the water, and he quickly set to make his way across as he could hear the 'murmurings', more angry screams and shouting than murmors, of the orcs not far behind him. He likely had a couple second head start over them, plus whatever time Goni could buy him.

Alagoniel
Ghosts of the Third Age

Ranger

Posts: 20
Application: https://image.ibb.co/bPFy08/EHPanoramica_1.jpg

When Worlds Collide (Alagoniel) [October, 3010] Apr 3, 2019 13:13:45 GMT -5

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Post by Alagoniel on Apr 3, 2019 13:13:45 GMT -5

As seemed to be the man’s custom, Beriedir larked a rather flippant and playful remark about scaring away the fish before he turned away. Alagoniel could hardly fathom what, precisely, went through the man’s mind. A fight was lain clear before him, and the light of his face did not falter or wane. She, herself, held fast to grimmer tones and lines, and in that tomb of waiting silence she passed with light step over the limbs and brush of Ithilien.

That was when the Gondorian sprang to action. She watched from her place in the shadows as Beriedir roared his battle call, as he swung his sword with force enough to sever the collar bone of the spindly, wiry creature before him. The black blood splayed up and over his hand, up his arm and across his chest; yet he did not falter, nor blink. Instead, he turned, making haste around the outskirt of the camp. Toward the river—and as he had hoped, and perhaps also despised, the whole company came soon to try and follow.

Carefully Alagoniel tread forward, the first song of her bowstring a deadly melody that was soon chorused by growls and cries from the orcs around the camp. Their eyes seemed torn, flitting her way, then back toward the figure they could see vaulting on his way. Dilemma. Decisions. One thought it wise to look to her instead, and with another breath, another hum of her bow, the thought was cut short.

The fallen began to pile as she worked her quiver to empty, her boots treading after the gaggle as they made way toward the river. Beriedir was wading now, his paces slowed, and she turned her eyes to the two archers that sought to volley their death from the shore. The others were armed in cleavers, in swords, in maces—they would need catch him to harm him. Arrows, though…

One snap, then another, and two more were felled where they stood. Eagerly, her hand flew again to her quiver, though as her fingers flailed she found nothing but air within. A curse she hissed, one that would have made her mother blush, and she cast aside her bow to collect at the end of the fray. “Filthy beasts!” She hissed, the sound underscored by the song of the metal she unsheathed. Forward she paced, running at what speed she could manage toward the river herself.

“Beriedir!” She called, though leapt as if his name had not come from her lips. Down she fell upon an orc, her sword plunging into his ribs as she kneed him to the earth. Black was the blood that began to pool from the creature’s side, and his flailing and gurgling was short lived. “Now!” She finished. They could handle the remaining orcs. At least, she hoped they could.

The captain was roaring, his arms motioning back to her upon the land. In the black tongue he was screaming, the tone enough for Alagoniel to know it was an order. She bounded to her feet, readying her blade again before her, pale eyes casting and assessing over the slew of monsters that approached her. She wondered if Beriedir would be able to haul himself from the water to be of any use, though perhaps that worry was far too late to pass her mind.

A lurch, a mace held high. She blocked, the wrack of the impact sending a shudder to her shoulder as she heaved with what might she had to toss the creature aside. “Any time now,” she called back to the other ranger, her blade grazing across the putrid flesh of the orc that sought to right itself to her.

There was enough screaming, she was certain Minas Tirith would be able to hear it from where they were—and that, she mused dryly, meant the fish were probably scattering as well.

"If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end, as to be worthy of remembrance."

Beriedir
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 16

When Worlds Collide (Alagoniel) [October, 3010] May 6, 2019 13:09:32 GMT -5 via mobile

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Post by Beriedir on May 6, 2019 13:09:32 GMT -5

The plan was working, the orcs were going after the bait...which unfortunately happened to be Beredir; that part of the plan probably could've been worked on a bit more.

The night sky of Ithilien was filled the roars and screams of orcs as the duo worked. Beriedir smirked as he moved, his smile certainly in contrast to the dire situation he put himself in. However with each scream he heard, he knew that another beast was put into the ground, and that filled him with vigor alone.

However the trek to the river was short and suddenly Beriedir felt a wet chill sweep over his feet first, followed by his calves as he slowed his movement in the waters. Each step became more labored as the ranger attempted to press forward...if he could just reach the other side he would be fine, he would hold the advantage over the foul beasts that were hot on his trail.

However the distance between himself and the orcs was quickly shrinking as Beriedir's movement was nearly halved, and the roars, snarls, and what he assumed was cursing grew louder and louder.

Suddenly he heard his name rise above the screams, and he nearly stopped for it wasn't an Orc that spoke, but instead it was Goni. Turning his head, he further slowed his movement, the water splashing against his calves, his eyes locked on Alagoniel as she moved across the battlefield. The woman fell upon an orc like a predator, quickly silencing the creature, she beckoned him to come, to go forth with their plan.

While the plan had worked fairly well, the two rangers were now separated, and it seemed that most of the creatures were now focusing their attention on Alagoniel now, as he could hear the captain bark in his foul tongue.

Quickly Beriedir turned himself around, and began cutting through the water like a ship of the sea. His cloak fluttered in the wind like a sail, and he gripped his sword like it was an oar.

Within moments he closed most of the distance he had just covered, and now came into range of one of the orcs that had been chasing him. The creature snarled at him as it raised its crude, rusty ax, its body remaining stationary in the water. Beriedir was going through the creature, there was no other way at this point.

His legs continued to propel him forward, water splashing up, he moved. He knew that he would be unable dodge the orc's attack, the water would not allow him such manuverability, instead he would have to strike first, and last.
He would strike upwards, across the chest, and continue moving. He maneuvered the blade accordingingly as he soon found himself nearly within arms range of the creature.

With a mighty roar Beriedir struck, his blade slicing against the bare chest of the creature, goopy black blood began to seep forth from the fresh wound, the creature barely mustering a whimper as it's body began to go limp, at first dropping its arms down, the ax falling into the river, before it fell backwards.

However Beriedir had little time to admire his work, he was needed back on the shore. He had momentarily lost sight of his partner, his eyes struggling to adjust, he soon found the ranger he was looking for, and she was certainly not in the best of spots.

Another orc stood on the shoreline, snarling at him, a crude blade grasped in its right hand, it seemingly taunted the ranger, as if it would fair any better than its fallen comrades. At this point he was nearly back on land, and well he didn't have much of a plan beyond just getting back to the shore.

Momentum was key, and it was going to be his advantage over the orcs. With his blade grasped in his right hand, he used his left hand to grip his small, utility axe. With it in hand, he raises his left arm and released it, the axe tumbled through the air as Beriedir continued to press on, merely offering a sideways glance as the blade of the axe implanted itself in the chest of the orc. While he didn't see the orc dropped, he smiled as he heard a faint whine followed by a thud.

Whatever advantages the orcs might of had, they had pretty much lost it. Beriedir parried a blow from another orc, before using his left leg to spring kick the creature's kneecap, causing the creature to howl out in pain, its left arm reaching down to grasp its right, Beriedir took advantage of the situation and quickly brought the blade down into its neck. It howled wildly before Beriedir raised his blade and struck once more, sending the creature to the ground in a puddle of its own blood.

Now free from the water, he ran towards Alagoniel, who found herself locked in combat with the captain himself.

"Alagoniel" he cried out as his pretty much flung his body onto the captain, sending both of them to the ground. A brief look of weary crossed his face as his blade scurried away from him, the ranger found himself locked in hand to hand combat with the captain, and this was not a place he wanted to be in.

Beriedir quickly righted his body and positioned himself ontop of the orc captain, he balled his right hand into a fist and struck it into the face of the creature, cocked his arm back once more and struck again. With his left hand he feverishly searched for his dagger as the orc snarled, and struck back. Beriedir let out a gasp as a mailed fist struck him in the ribs, the air itself escaping from his lips.

Blow after blow impacted on his body before Beriedir brandished his dagger and plunged into the right shoulder of the captain who let out a scream before using its hand to land a blow into the face of Beriedir, temporarily stunning the ranger, it tossed him aside.

Pain, that's what he could feel as his body went crashing against the dirt. He struggled to catch his breath, each breath labored, he struggled to push himself up, before the captain could do the same. "Its okay, I've got it" he muttered to his partner beneath a bloody smile. He looked rough, and his face was now covered in blood and dirt. Still the ranger wasn't done yet.

On his knees, he spotted his blade a short distance away, tucked away in the grass, the ranger pushed himself to his feet, slowly he moved towards his blade, he nearly collapsed as he bent down to grab it

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