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The mighty "Lathor's" first defeat at the Orc camp.
It was a slow day in Delucia and not much going on anywhere. Our Favorite heros Lathor and Lestat decided to take a break from the norm of making money and working on the daily duties of starting a guild and have some fun smashing orcs. They approached the camp slowly at first trying to stay to the north away from the litches that can quickly end an adventurers career. Lathor went to the front gate catching the stupid orcs in the bottleneck created there and cutting them down one by one. He needed little help with one orc at a time so Lestat quickly became bored shooting them with his mighty crossbow and decided to have a little fun. He went to the front wall of the camp. Noticing that u can just barely see over it he decided to have fun with the unsuspecting orcs inside that were milling around calling him names and shouting vulgar remarks from where they thought it was safe. Lestat drew on the powers of the arcane until a wall of fire lept up at the orcs feet. Lestat roared with laughter as the stupid orcs ran in and out of the flame not knowing what to do next. Still trying to claw their way to him and tear him to shreads. Ironicly it was their own wall they thought would defent them that now protected their enemy...Lestat. He produced wall after wall of fire, burning the orcs down where they stood. There were only a few of the ugly creatures left and they were injured. Lestat was about to cut them down when into the camp charges Lathor. Having dispelled the orcs at the gates with ease he grew bored waiting for more orcs to wander out of their pitifull huts. He cut through the last few orcs at the wall fighting them five at a time. He dispatched them but due to their numbers they got a few licks in denting his armor and scratching his limbs. To Lestat he seemed to be tireing so he yelled for Lathor to retreat. But alas "retreat" is not in Lathors vocabulary and he yelled back in a smart ass tone "never...tis but a scratch". Lestat knowing his pigheadedness ran to the gate where he might get a better view of Lathor to heal him with the magical energy Thor grants him. That is when he saw it. A group of Orcs at the front gate. Not barring entry but barring exit. It was a trap, but...could it have been a trap all along. These orcs are stupid. Far to dumb to outwit our great adventurers, but here it was. Lestat screamed for Lathor to "run" but he continued the fight. I tried to yell that it was a trap. That the uglies were massing at the gate but Lathor was in a blood lust. Hating the uglies since his early adventuring days when his career was nearly ended by one of their great mages. Then it happened. *POW* one of the Orcish Lords got a lucky shot and the mighty Lathor was weakened. Even he noticed his lack of health and, I think, got a little scared. He ran to the gate. The only way out...and there they were. A hoard of the uglies so thick u couldnt see the beautiful mother earth. They quickly surrounded the weakened Lathor and began to drag him down. He summoned strength from who knows where, the mighty Thor I imagine, and fought them all. Single handedly cutting them down. But as fast as he vanquished one two more would appear. He tried to push to the gate but their were too many of the beasts. Lestat tried to run to help but the entrance was blocked and he too was quickly surrounded. Disregarding his own fate and trusting Thor to protect him Lestat summoned all his energy to heal the weary Lathor. Over and over again he healed him but the orcs took it as fast as he could heal it. Then Lestat took a mighty blow himself. Looking down he saw he too was bleeding too death. He tried to heal himself feeling bad for his selfishness when. . . nothing happened. . .his magical energy was drained from healing Lathor. He needed too rest. Although his attackers would not ablidge. Try and try he did, not to heal. It was too late for that. He thought of home. Home sweet home and the warmth of his fire. Watching as his best friend and partner was drug down by the filthy beasts. He too though this would be his fate this day. But he continued to try. Over and over againg calling on Thor to bring him home this one more time. He never felt the magical energy return. He just realized he could no longer hear the screams of his long time friend being torn apart piece by piece and it was warm. He was home by the fireplace in the Inn in Delucia, but he did not feel good. No, he felt bad. He had saved himself but the mighty Lathor was nowhere to bee seen. AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH! He screamed. But that would not bring his friend back. The mighty Lathor wandered the earth as a ghost. Lestat crumbled to the floor and cursed Lathor for not listening to him when he told him to run. A coward he would call him. But alas in the words a wise beggar friend "He who runs away. . . lives to fight another day."
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