The Red Hood [February 3010] (Open)

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Gwathion
Ghosts of the Third Age

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The Red Hood [February 3010] (Open) Apr 3, 2018 20:08:30 GMT -5

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Post by Gwathion on Apr 3, 2018 20:08:30 GMT -5

Gwathion was starting to regret taking off his helmet. Sure he could breath alright, but arrows were flying everywhere. It seemed like the Orcs were not keen on taking him prisoner now, thought he could not blame them. He did just kill one of them. Now they were focus on killing him and there arrows were focused on him. As Gwathion ran a arrow zipped past him and slammed into a tree. The knight, saw this as a warning of his eventual fate if he kept running straight. Rather than give the Orcs a easy target he ducked behind a tree. the objects that gave the Orcs such a advantage before were now being used against them as Gwathion raced though the forest. He ducked, moved, and turned behind the trees, but the more ran though the woods the more he felt his stamina give way. His armor was heavy, and though he had been trained to fight and run in it, the weight of the plate still sapped his energy. He would not be able to run long.

“Yer friends ain’t gon’ come after the likes o’you!” came a cry form a Orc. It was then that the Orc noticed something strange. The flowing cloak suddenly shifted.

"You are right', came a reply from Gwathion as he suddenly turned around and slammed the orc blade down at his pursuing Orc's head. The beast moved to block the blow, but the adrenaline filled muscles of the trained man at arms were far to strong for it to handle. In a plop the sword dame down powering past the Orc's weak defense and taking the life of the creature in a single blow.

"Lets see how many of you I can take down", spoke the man at arms as he reached down and grabbed the Orc's free axe. Dropping the crude sword aside Gwathion switched to the Orckish war axe. It was a far cry from his battle axe, but the warrior was use to fighting with one handed axe more so than he was with arming swords, or whatever the orcs called that thing.

As another Orc rushed in to fight him Gwathion meet him in combat. The human warrior had decided to fight, but not simply because he knew he was doomed, but due to the terrain. This particular piece of forest had a thick tree line to his right and left flanks. It was not impossible to pass, but it made managing the crows a whole lot easier. There superior numbers meant less here, and Gwathion was going to take full advantage of it.

As the Orc charged in with its sword Gwathion stepped back. The blade bit into the wood of the tree chipping the edge.

"Hagva ...", started the Orc, but a swift strike from Gwathion cut it off. The axe head struck at its lower knee, shattering its knee cap. The warrior then slammed the axe into the top of the creature's helmet. The force of the blow gave a sickening sound similar to the one they delivered to his comrade earlier. As another Orc approached Gwathion suddenly took off running.

"Filthy bleeder", it roared as it raised its weapon high and began to chase. Gwathion wanted to hold that position and fight, but the Orcs were starting to fan out. If he let them surround him he was doomed. He was going to need to find a new sport, or prey that they tired out.

Captains
Ghosts of the Third Age

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The Red Hood [February 3010] (Open) Apr 4, 2018 10:13:14 GMT -5

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Post by Captains on Apr 4, 2018 10:13:14 GMT -5

Gwathion had cut down one of their orc comrades in one blow, though the uruk were neither impressed now off-put. They, too, killed their own men should they prove too weak; the soldier’s words rang forth in false bravado. Fear. It was stinking up the air of the forest. "Lets see how many of you I can take down!”

A strange sound swept through the coming pursuers, the sound like a howling wind or put of snakes. Laughter. Something twisted, and darker than the night sky above the trees. “Not enough,” the only reply came; golden eyes glinted in the wan light like cloudy orbs. “Ye ain’t genna git far.”

The manflesh was breathing heavily, they still felt fresh. It was only a matter of hunting. So many were pressing in after him, the fan of their ranks that he thought he imagined was simply overwhelming numbers; only a few orc had turned away, deciding it best to not pursue a manflesh that was of little use or consequence; there were full villages they could find their way into if they wished to replace the laborers who had escaped Nurn.

He was trying to take a stand.

More hisses and rumbles. Gondorians could not stand against them. Not a single one; not one that smelled so fresh and young. Not one that moved on impulse. Another hum and song of bowstrings called into the quiet, and they rained toward Gwathion with cruel intent, even as he cut down a member of the orc’s party.

It was of no matter. That one had been weak.

Gwathion took off once more, and with a great burst of speed, a few orc moved to try and cut off his path. “You stink of fear!” One rumbled, voice like a summer’s thunder.

“Bet ‘is legs taste nice,” another offered. His cleaver swung, whistling the air as he sought to strike out at Gwathion’s head. “We c’n cook ‘im!”

Gwathion
Ghosts of the Third Age

Posts: 21

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The Red Hood [February 3010] (Open) Apr 5, 2018 19:02:19 GMT -5

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Post by Gwathion on Apr 5, 2018 19:02:19 GMT -5

Enough, thought Gwathion. He could feel his body giving way to exhaustion. The Orcs were still on his tail, but at this point he saw no reason to keep running. If he continued to run he would eventually be caught and to exhausted to fight. He would have to take a stand here. Once more Gwathion had to trust his life into his skill. A Orc swung its blade, aimed to take off his head. The man at arms responded by ducking to the ground dodging the blow outright. He then pressed forward tackling the Orc to the ground. The creature struggled to gain control, but the superior trained Gwathion managed to pin it down and draw up the axe. The blade of the weapon came down on the creature's skull ending its life. The nearest orc rushed in to attack the grounded foe. Gwathion, recovering from his grapple with the Orc, raised his arm in his defense. The sword slashed into the steel gauntlet. the edge of the blade sliding off the harden steel.

"Wrong weapon", spoke the man at arms as he slammed his fist into the groin of the beast. The Orc screamed in agony and was swiftly silenced by a retaliating strike o the face of Gwathion's axe. As the warrior stood to his feet a arrow slammed into his chest. The sturdy plate deflected the blow, but the force was enough to knock the wind out of him. Gwathion took a step back and another beast attacked. This one used a axe. It swung high, ready to cleave open his skull. The staggered Gwathion allowed himself to take a few more steps back allowing the edge of the axe to miss his head, but instead fall upon the breastplate of his armor.

The force of the blow was strong. It caused the man at arms to buckle under the force. The orc raised it's weapon to strike again. As it came down Gwathion dropped to the ground and stabbed the shaft of the axe into the creatures boot. His sudden drop caused the creature to miss and the blow to its feet caused it to stumble. Picking himself back up Gwathion attacked with a swing of his axe. The Orc, moved to the side out of the way of the blow, but Gwathion, trained in the axe, pulled back on his weapon hooking the Orc under its armor and dragged it closer toward him. Off balance the Orc stumbled forward. The warrior then grabbed the beast and tossed it over his shoulder onto the ground. With a firm foot he pinned it down and planted the axe in its skull.

"Da ...", he started to curse when a arrow hit him in his shoulder. The force was much greater and the tip pierced though the plate. The blow caused him to recoil as a sharp pain shot though his arm. The archer was much closer now, and was aiming with deadly aim. A smile of pleasure crossed its face as it looked upon his agony. The creature pulled back on its bow to fire again, but Gwathion would not have it. Taking a deep breath Gwathion tossed the hand axe with all of his might. The weapon slammed into the creature's face, but the wrong side had hit. Still the blow was enough to startle the archer. Gwaathion, not missing his moment rushed forward and tackled the beast. He drew his dagger once again from his belt and planted it into the creatures chest. He stabbed over and over again making sure the creature was truly dead. His crimson cloak stained with the blood of the Orc.

"That should ...", he started, but a sudden blow to the back of his head suddenly sent his world black.

A hour later the Old hand and his men arrived at what seemed like the scene of a battle. Dead Orcs lay about and blood on the ground told of a struggle. However Gwathion was nowhere to be found. Only a piece of his crimson cloak remained.

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