OOC: Italicized narration is from Nain in the previous post. I took the liberty to make some changes so that it would fit into the time frame and situation.
As the attention of the orc leader left him, Nain took a swing at his knees and heard his axe scrape across the mail that encased his torso. Graush turned and ran with the rest of his troop, a new wound apparent from the bllod that flowed. Two more orcs fell from the two Dúnedain's cruel strokes, as Nain attempted to give chase, but the longer legs of the orc and his mount quickly outdistanced the dwarf.
He gave a final shout to rekindle the challenge, "Come back here ye cowards!"
Realizing the futility, Nain came to a halt and watched the orcs disappear over the rise af the terrain. He puts his hands on his knees for a moment and panted, leaning heaviliy on his axe. The weary dwarf turned back to where the Men were now waiting for the newcomers; some of their kind. Humans were a hard lot to judge so the Dwarf decided he would let them work out their differences before he made his presence known.
He moved to where he could talk to Durgil, "Be they friend or foe?"
The new potential threat or possible aid, raced up the hill, their faces painted over with blue and black colors. The men wore heavy woolen clothing and little armour, but each were armed with a spear or a heavy blade. As they approached the Company, they fanned out in a circle all the while pointing their weapons at them and chanting some kind of cadence. Their demeanour did not seem friendly as they jabbed threateningly at the Company and yelled in a foreign tongue. There were at least fifty-five of them and Dirnhael had no doubt that this would be a much tougher fight if it came to that... "So," thought the Dúnadan, "it best not."
OOC: Situation: the Company is now encircled by approximately 55 warriors of either Dunnish or some other Hill-folk heritage and none seem to friendly. They speak in a language that is not distinguishable by any of the characters unless they have Language: Dunlendish (Dunlendish) +4 or greater. Otherwise, it will require Insight tests of TN 10 or greater to make sense of the others gestures, mannerisms, etc. If any o you have other suggestions for communication, feel free to give me test rolls and I will interpret.
OOC: I take it the shaman and other couple of orcs were finished off or severely wounded or dying?
OOC: Yes, that is correct Matt. The few Orcs, including the shaman, that still live are crawling or hobbling away. They would make easy kills if you want too.
Quote from: tomcat on Jun 17, 2006, 03:07 PM
OOC: Yes, that is correct Matt. The few Orcs, including the shaman, that still live are crawling or hobbling away. They would make easy kills if you want too.
OOC: Should we grab him and question him? Or are the Dunlendings surrounding us going to expect our full attention? ;)
Quote from: sdrotarOOC: Should we grab him and question him? Or are the Dunlendings surrounding us going to expect our full attention?
OOC: You may do as you wish... it may buy you some points with the Dunlendings. Dunno? ;D
The fierce, painted men circled round both the Company and fallen and wounded Orcs and Wargs - they pointed their spears in to create a barbed barrier that the companions would find hard to escape. One of the larger Men, his face thick with a beard and painted with what appeared to be blue claw marks, strode forward and yelled out, "TALOUS!"
He pointed up at the Company members upon their mounts, and then pointed to the ground, "DON!"
OOC:I will need you guys to interpret as you can... I will only give any kind of translation on some tests (by type and reslt) that I think would merit one. The disposition of these hot-headed Dunlendings will be based on how this broken communication goes. Have fun! ;D
OOC: Edrahil rolls an Insight roll:
Insight +4
Roll(2d6)+4: 4,5,+4 Total:13 SUCCESS
This would not be a difficult gesture to interpret, especially with the word being almost like its Westron counterpart, so this would be a TN 5.
Edrahil leaned over to Dirnhael, who he now sat close by upon his horse and quietly said, "It would appear that they want us to dismount."
Seriand sees they are outnumbered by many times and knows the situation is without an easy resolution. Sheathing his blade he speaks in the elven tongue. "Well met." Hoping to make it apparent they didn't speak the same language and perhaps the spear wielding persons would understand they had to work together.
To Seriand, the Hill-man gestured with his hand out, palm forward and again yelled, "Talous!"
But it was obvious that the warrior did not understand the language as spoken, and gave the Elf a warning look. Behind him, one of his comrades came up gripping his spear tightly, but then gestured to his own ears as he looked towards Seriand and said to the apparent leader, "Aelf... ghast?"
The claw-faced warrior looked to his companion and shook his head in agreement, he then pointed again to the mounted Company members and then back to the ground, "Don!" After which he pointed to the scabbard on his side, then back to the Company and at last to the ground, "Don!"
Being on the ground already Seriand simply looked back to his comrades. "Perhaps you should dismount."
Durgil relunctantly dismounts only after Dirnhael does. He does not sheath or drop his weapon lest a killing blow on a foe is required. He is a soldier and, though of noble birth and upbringing, no diplomat so he keeps his mouth shut wary that something unsettling might spill out. He keeps his eyes on the orcs and if they try to run, he will give chase.
Dirnhael slowly and carefully dismounts, all the while staring evenly at the Dunlending speaker.
He lowers Vorandur in a relaxed and easy gesture, but does not sheath the weapon. Then he points it gently at the Orc shaman, and raises his other hand in greeting and offering, as if he were signaling to the Dunlendings that they may do what they will with the remaining Orcs.
***
OOC: I'd like to present a strong united front to the Dunlendings - showing them that we are not their enemies and are willing to parley, but also showing strength, indicating to the men that the Company are not their subordinates, either. Show friendliness, but no weakness.
Fengel knew that if it came to a fight their best chance would be on their horses. He watched as Dirnhael dismounted, followed by Durgil. He saw too that Dirnhael kept their weapons ready and hoped that the noble could find a way out of this situation. Positioning himself to aid Dirnhael easily, with unease he swung his leg over the saddle and landed on the ground. Keeping his spear in his hand and holding the saddle horn with the other, Fengel hoped that he could quickly mount if needed.
Nain stands next to the humans, Jethro close behind. He stands with his axe handle resting in the soft earth. Not threatening, but close at hand in case it's needed. These humans would have to work out their issues and he didnt want to be the dead one if they failed.
Insight (TN10)
Roll (2d6)+2; 4,4 +2 = 10 Success (barely)
Becoming frustrated by the inability to understand one another, the Dunlending warrior decided a greater show of force would be necessary to unarm his captives. He pointed to three warriors that stood furthest from the Company, and then to the wounded Orcs skulking on the ground. The three young men with spears immediately went about the duty of slaying the fell-creatures, including the shaman, and once done fell back into line.
While they did that, the warrior chieftain gestured to the two spear-toting warriors by his side and the three marched up to Dirnhael and suddenly the Dunadan found himself with two spear tips hovering next to his throat. The Dunlending with the claw-faced paint walked up so that his face was less than two feet from Dirnhael's, the fetid breath of the man made the current situation even worse.
In a very heavily accented tongue, the Dunlending said, "Drope wepuns."
It appeared that Dirnhael's options had dwindled to one.
With a nod, and forcing a smile as best as he could muster, Dirnhael slowly bent down and gently set Vorandur on the hard earth. As he stood back up, his hands were at his side and his eyes never left those of the chieftain.
"If they had wanted to harm us," he thought, "they could have done so already."
He didn't like the situation, but these men obviously had no love for the Orcs... perhaps they had some common ground...
With a wan smile of his own, the Dunlending warrior bent and picked up the ornate blade and with a keen eye towards the weapon, he handed it back to one of his compatriots. He then looked to the rest of Dirnhael's companions and he pointed again to the ground.
Not far from Dirnhael, Edrahil slowly moved his hands to his waste and from there he unbuckled his belt and let slide to the ground his longsword and the long knife Silturma. All the while the Elf ran through different options in his mind, of spells that may be of use... but he was weary. He was not sure that the magic would take affect and if not, his incantations would certainly be visible to their potential captors and that would cause more harm than good.
"No," he thought, "better that we take our time here and see what the wild men's intentions were. We are not out yet."
Fengel almost couldn't restrain himself when the warriors pointed their spears to Dirnhael's throat. He gripped his spear with both hands and grit his teeth hard as he took one step forward. To be sure if they even hurt his lord they would surly die, even if it meant his life. Then with Dirnhael's words he stopped, still holding tightly to his spear, ready to attack. It would be a terrible thing to have survived all that they had, to die here, now. "Dirnhael?", Fengel managed questioningly.
Durgil doesn't hold back his approval of the dispatching of the orcs, but he perceives something is wrong when the spearmen approach Dirnhael with spears threatening. Not paying attention to his comrades' actions, he rushes to the side of his friend, insinuating himself between the oncoming spears and his kin if need be. "Dirnhael?! Get back!"
OOC: If you feel that Durgil's actions may go against the grain, out of place, or hampering the game, please let me know and I'll adjust them.
Without moving his eyes from the Dunlending chieftain, he said openly and calmly, "If these men had wanted us dead, we would be. Let us prove that we are not their enemies."
"As if there was a choice," Dirnhael thought. He thought of Ioreth, and how he could not imagine coming home without her brother. He deeply appreciated Durgil and Fengel's loyalty and friendship, but Dirnhael didn't believe in dying for honor... they would find another way - together.
Nain watched the antics of the humans with some trepidation. He had no intention of giving up his axe and leaned on it heavily as the drama played out.
Dirnhael's words did little to cool Durgil's hot head. They hadn't just survived a deadly ambush to just turn themselves over to an unknown, heavily armed, and apparent threat. He replaced his sword to its sheath, unslung his bow and quiver, and placed them on the ground in front of him while staring down the men holding the spears on him and Dirnhael. He was loathe to let them go for they have performed well in their service to him.
The Dunlendings collected Durgil and Edrahil's weapons and they too disappeared back into the gang of warriors - the three companions all cringing at the idea of their treasures being taken from them. That done, the Dunlending cheiftain looked to the remaining three who had not yet yielded and wondered how much more show of force did he need to display.
There was no use for the dwarf - he despised those folk anyway - so if the little one wanted to sit on his axe like a hen on an egg, then he and his clan would just leave him. He was sure those Orcs would love to come back to finish the job and one lone Dwarf would be little threat!
He put his finger in Dirnhael's face, then pointed it at the remaining armed Company members until it fell on Nain and lingered, "Don yenta wepun oe sula prote!"
While his words hung in the air and his finger remained pointed at Nain, the warrior brought a small dirk up to his own throat to symbolize being killed. Hopefully this would get through for he tired of the game and he had the upper hand... he could just as soon leave them all for dead in this mountain vale.
But the Elder had said differently... but the Elder said nothing about the Dwarf.
He would give them a moment more to decide...
Fengel decided he'd better comply quickly, or Dirnhael would suffer for it. He tossed his spear flat on the ground a few feet from him, then unbuckled his sword belt and tossed Cerduil beside the spear. He then realized he had the other sword on his saddle. "Maybe they haven't seen that one, I'll leave it just incase.", he says to himself. He looks at their new captors and smirks.
The sword hanging at his side was not something he would part with very easily, but obviously he had no choice. Untying the belt Seriand gently laid the sheathed weapon on the ground.
With all of the captives disarmed but the Dwarf, the Dunlending chieftain commenced yelling orders and immediately the rest of his troop were active. The horses' reins were grabbed up and the companions were shoved into a tighter circle by the spear wielding wild men. They were separated from Nain, and the Dwarf was fenced in by a line of spears keeping him at bay while his comrades were led away. No one was tied up, nor were they cruelly treated, but they were inextricably led off towards the south and east. Behind them, Nain and Jethro were watched to make sure the Dwarf made no threat but the spearmen slowly started to move back with the rest of the host.
"Hopefully," thought the Dunlending cheiftain, "the Orcs will return to finish the stunted fool."
OOC: Stefan, if Nain surrenders before they move off I will include him in the intro of Chapter 8, if not, we will have Nain on his own trying to follow or doing what you want him to. Let me know...
Seriand knew not what to think, had coming with this host been the best of ideas?
Since joining up with them he had been assailed by a wraith and now a group of orcs with a shaman of their own. He had been lucky enough to return to Rivendell but had he not been with this group he may have stayed at the fine Elven city much longer.
Now, perhaps most disturbing of all the events he was being led of, disarmed of his weapons and treated like a captive, to Valar knows where...
Nay, this was not the best plan he had ever decided to follow.
Already a proud and haughty in her own right with her master, Rochithuin was doubly so with those she didn't know. It was even worse as she could sense that these men were not of the reputable sort. It took Durgil a moment to calm her down lest the Dun-landers took to giving a harsh response from a beast; he did not know their customs and didn't trust them in any case. For the rest of the journey, he walked next to his beloved steed as a calming presence to guarantee no further outbursts from her.
Dirnhael knew not why these men did not deign to capture Nain along with them, but Dirnhael thought it a stroke of nearly incredible luck.
He glanced back at his Dwarven friend as he walked away, confident that the stalwart craftsman would not simply let them be taken away without at least following along stealthily and finding out what was to come...
Like the rest of his companions, Fengel was very uneasy about their situation. He walked alongside Dirnhael and noticed the glance back at Nain. He too stole a glance to his dwarven friend. Quietly to Dirnhael, "I hope that he is not too wounded by the last battle. I'm not familiar with this people, do you have any idea what we are in for?"
Quote from: Palandil on Jun 24, 2006, 03:52 AM
Like the rest of his companions, Fengel was very uneasy about their situation. He walked alongside Dirnhael and noticed the glance back at Nain. He too stole a glance to his dwarven friend. Quietly to Dirnhael, "I hope that he is not too wounded by the last battle. I'm not familiar with this people, do you have any idea what we are in for?"
Dirnhael gave Fengel a look that spoke volumes.
He had no idea what awaited them; no idea why they left Nain alone - but they were all alive, and as long as they still drew breath, there was hope.
Nain stands patiently and waits for the spearmen to leave. They don't seem to have any interest in him other than that he not attack and he really didnt have much interest in them. Jethro stoop quietly by and munched on the grass while he scratched his beard. He felt a little pang of regret about leaving his companions but they had had a good stint traveling together and he was prety sure that these others weren't planning on harming them.
While he waited he thought about how far it was to the Gates of Moria and seeing the Mithril mines that his father had told him about.
;D ;D ;D
OOC: I love Nain...LOL! To this date, I still don't know if the character likes the people he hangs out with or not! Funny!
Hey Stefan, let me know if the Dwarf is going to be needing to have the side story for him to play out, or if he is going to Khazad and saying that is that. Thanks!
OOC: a little soul searching is in need for him atm. Dratted Humans!