Malahir paces near the officers tent, making a tract in the sand there. His worried look is only erased by stirring inside.

Torelin, alone as usual, sits on a stump, his axe at his side, and turns a long shafted arrow around in his fingertips.

Elidran sits near Torelin, sharpening his sword methodically, his expression pensive.

Analdin strides in from the road, his long steps causing his cloak to billow out behind him in the clear afternoon weather. With a light pack over his shoulder, he makes his way toward the officer's tent, a careful and concerned look in his eyes. Upon reaching the tent, he reaffirms his grip on the pack, hoisting it to a better position on his shoulder, and looks, with a raised brow, quizzacally to Malahir.

Elidran raises his head as someone passes near, and spots his Lieutenant, flashing him a rgrin and a salute, "GOod day sir."

Malahir, his concentration on the officer's tent itself, does not realize the Lieutenant he seeks an audience with is right behind him. The shifting of a pack, moves the corporal into action, as he heel turns to face the noise. Shaking his head and sighing before he offers a salute, he speaks hurriedly, "Much news sir. There is much to be done, and little time to do it. Could you come with me?", and he points toward the post at the eastern ruins.

At the easterm edge of the camp, amongst a small group of scouts, stands Keleir. On this clear and frozen day, the few crudely dressed and armed young men converse jovially with one another and laugh at a comment from the tall bearded man with them. A few moments pass, and each claps the other on the shoulder before departing in seperate directions, Keleir heading towards the garrison, a hand resting upon the hilt of his sword.

Analdin gives Elidran a quick nod and a light smile, before turning back to Malahir. "I take it, then, that there was much happening in my absence..." With a tilt of his head toward the eastern ruins, he begins a quick gait towards them, obviously expecting Malahir to come along, "And it appears you prepare for battle. How much strength to we have here, and where are we attacking...?" his questions trail off as he slows down a bit, turning to face Malahir, "And has anything else of interest happened while I was away?"

The arrow in Torelin's hand is lightly passed back and forth while he watches his breathe spill, like smoke, into the air. He lets his eyes stray toward the officers as they talk in close quarters near the tent. His attention then turns to the scout approaching and the arrow lights in his left hand.

Malahir walks beside the lieutenant, his mouth forming words as each of the questions keep coming. Darting his eyes for a second, he nods hurriedly, "There is no time for a chat sir. It is imperative that we send out a patrol and investigate what we have learned", pointing toward the ruins, "it has been told by an escaped refugee, that the orcish army moves our way. They are relentless in their march to Minas Tirith. We must act quickly, and discover the danger", pausing to let the commander of the oupost company contribute.

Analdin turns suddenly, at Malahir's lapse into silence, and places a hand on the man's shoulder, "No time for chat? Malahir, I have been away neigh on two weeks. I need an update of whatever situation we are in before I can hope to give my opinion on anything. What have we learned that needs investigating? Just that an orcish army moves our way? If that is the case, I think we should have sent out scouts as soon as we learned of this." His eyes narrow, and he awaits a response from his aide.

Sanos stands off to the near side of the camp, looking Eastward, and brushing his blade off in the late afternoon glare. He looks up at the guards off in the distance, as he throws down his rag, and walks over to the crowd. He salutes Analdin sharply, and nods to his comrades with a quante smile.

Keleir makes his way towards the heavy tents scattered across the across the area, looking absently to the many men that linger before the garrison. Catching a look from a man, which he judges to be a guard by his dress, he steers his course to meet with him, a curious frown finding its way onto his face, and he halts a step from him, quickly dropping down to one knee before him. Motioning with a finger at the arrow in his hand, "Do you ready yourself for a battle, Man?", he asks in an oddly direct manner.

Malahir eyes other guards mill about, preparing for the patrol that has been ordered just last night. "Sir, the Captain General himself gave the orders to me directly. He agreed that leaving the same night would be hasty. But we have to act quickly on our information. Every second we wait, they grow stronger."

On hearing the words of the two officers, Torelin turns back to listen but is again interupted by the scout's voice, his soft feet having kept him from alerting the young guard on his presence. He blows on his hands, trying to warm them up slightly should he need to use them. Torelin looks down at his arrow, "No, it is orcish. It is a keepsake from the battle a few days ago."

A light eyebrow rises, and Analdin lifts his hand from Malahir's shoulder, dropping it to his side, "The Captain-General gave you orders? What were they? To move out immediatly, taking the risk of undue haste? Or to sait, and get another report of what we are to do? Speak to me, man." Though his appearance is generally calm, his questiong quick and to the point, his posture is that of a soldier ready for battle.

Keleir raises an eyebrow curiously, "A keepsake?", he repeats with a frown. "You would have such a foul souvenir. To what? Pass on to your child as a plaything?" Pushing the sword at his hip back from him, he lays a hand across his thigh and looks intently at the fair haired young man. "Tis an odd thing to keep, Man. Or is it to remind you of your hatred for the fell beasts and fortify your courage for the next time you meet with them?"

Malahir talks impatiently with his hands flailing about, "Sir. His orders were to investigate the information with what ever force we can spare, but also to proceed with caution. The source of this information, seems to be under scrutiny sir. Isn't there anything we can do?"

Sanos stands still, deep in concentration, and some silent prasing, as he sparsly looks up, to his comrades, and the East.

Torelin turns his face up to the man before him and his eyes are intense and slitted. He grips the arrow tightly and he speach is slow but filled with hatred. "I intend to ram this arrow directly into the heart of the creature who dared to shoot it at me." He then stabs the ground with the shaft and leaves it standing there as he emphasises the word "me".

Analdin allows himself a light sigh, glancing around the preparing camp, "If those were his orders, when will you be ready to move out and comply with them? What force do we have to spare, and are they prepared yet to leave? As for the source of the imformation..." Trailing off, he looks directly into Malahir's eyes for a few seconds before lowering his voice to the point that no one but his aide may hear, "From what I hear, as you say the source is under scrutiny... meaning not quite to be trusted, or just suspicious?"

Torelin looks to the east as his eyes burn with a rage little seen in one so young.

Elidran listens surreptitiously, or as well as he can, from a distance, while sharpening his sword.

Keleir leans back at the man's anger and supresses a small chuckle, "Well... ", he pauses for a moment as the man stews in anger before him. "So you intend to return the gift.", he nods slowly, "A noble gesture.", he adds and leans forward once more. "Then I wish you luck in discovering which beast that was. Twill be quite a feat if you do....", he trails off, waiting for the man to give his name.

Sanos notices the new faces around him, but stays to himself, still quiet and in thought. He looks as if to have a large burden, or mabey just simply gathering ideas.

Malahir waves to the men gathered around, mocking battle and going through their curious pre-battle routines, some even sitting around the camp fire talking. "Yes sir, Captain general Boromir does suspect that fowl play is afoot, but he believes we need to act fast to gain valuable information. I have prepared a small force, just a patrol", he points to the scouts scattered around the camp, "They have arranged the patrol, they come just this morning. I have ten of our finest men to accompany them", eyeing the shorter officer grimly, "I was going to start them out, but now that your here..." trailing off and shrugging.

Torelin keeps his eyes eastward as he speaks, "Torelin...son of Brinmaen. I know his face well, sir and would have had the head of the beast had he not run like a coward!" He plucks the arrow once again from the ground and gazes at the scout with severity.

Analdin holds up his hands, as though clearing them of responsibility, a decisive look to his features, "Move them on out, Malahir. Absent as I have been, with as lottle information as I have been giving in the short while since I returned, I would expect your knowledge of this to be greater than my own." Looking hard into his aide's face, his voice lowering and eyes narrowing, he adds, "Unless you would simply rather sit at my side and tell me the plans that have been made every step of the way, I would rather you lead the forray as it was obviously planned."

Seeing the stir of bodies, Sanos presumes the time of leave is near, as he breaks his thought and gazes to all the faces surrounding him slowly. He then holds his scabard and says a few, light, quiet words, and stands pacing.

Malahir salutes smartly and pats the blonde young officer on the shoulder, "Aye sir. Shall you join us?"

Keleir begins to rise and extends a hand to the man before him, "Well met Torelin.. the grim.", he adds with a grin, "Keleir of Pelargir.", he returns simply.

Elidran rises, glancing with a quick, excited smile at Sanos and Torelin, sliding his sword into its sheath with a smart, loud hissing. He pats the pommel, his eyes glinting, alert.

Sanos ruturns the friendly smile to Elidran, as he walks slowly to the guardsman. "Aye there Sir, are you as ready as I?" He ends with a small twirk of his mouth and a shallow look in his eyes.

Analdin looks quietly from Malahir's handon his shoulder to his aide's face, and back again, his head moving in a slight shake and his forhead creasing. "I would not miss this battle, even should all the healers of Rohan tie me down in a healer's tent." With that and a sharp nod, taking a step back, just far enough for Malahir's hand not to be able to reach his shoulder, he adds finally, "Then form them up and order them out."

Elidran bobs his head with a toothy grin, "I most certainly am ready, aye."

Sanos nods and smiles as he pats Elidran on the back, whispering lightly.

Torelin takes the man's hand in his and grips tightly. "Well met, Keleir. Pelargir you say, " his blows rising as he says the name. He realizes that the other guards are stirring and rises, belting his axe as he does so. "Perhaps we shall speak after the battle, sir. I am interested in hearing about the place." A small smile appears on his face, briefly before once again disappearing into his frown.

Sanos +whispers to Elidran, "... your ... ... ..., ... may no ... ... ... to ... ... ... .... ... valiant, ... you are ... ... ...."

Malahir walks over to the men gathered around, his lieutenant remaining behind him, "Attention men of the silver ship company, guests of Goresgals famed scouts, gather around", and he pauses awaiting silence as the men gather around the stump he choice to lead his first forray.

Elidran squeezes Sanos' arm at the man's word, and nods grimly, "Aye, Sanos. We will triumph this day, you and I."

Sanos nods and turns to the crowd gathering near Malahir. He motions to Elidran, "We shall Sir, and may we talk further in peace later." He then walks over to the crowd with Malahir in the center.

Elidran joins Malahir and the others.

At Malahir's speech, the remaining members of the small force form up with those already gathered. After a quiet whisper rolls back through their numbers, they look grimly to the Corporal, eyes intently upon him, hard enough to be questioning his experience, yet not so far as to speak outright.

Keleir withdraws his hand from the man, "Where do you hail from, Torelin, son of Brinmaen?", he starts to ask, but turns at the call from a short distance away. Seeing a face he remembers vaguely, he creases his brow and inquires in a low voice to the man beside him, "What is that man's name?"

Analdin follows Malahir a few steps, his long strides catching him up with the man, coming to stand silently beside him as he speaks to the force. Hands clasped behind his back, steel blue gaze wandering over the group, he remains quietly watching and listening, though keeping his presence of authority about him.

Torelin quietly whispers to Keleir, "Malahir. Although why he is leading and not Analdin is strange."

Malahir looks upon the faces of his fellow men, and stranger faces of the scouts, "This mission is handed down from the Captain General himself, to me just yesterday night. It is imperiative we carry it out to the best of our ability. I trust that we will work together on this patrol, and gather the evidence needed to access the danger to our position here in these ancient lands of ours. I will lead this patrol, under the auspicies of our Lieutenant. that said, we move out now, Form your lines!"

Sanos quickly forms his well know rank, as other men file about him quickly, some confused and scattering about.

Malahir nods at lieutenant as he takes the lead and looks over his shoulder. "Ten hut...we move east for the Glory of Gondor".

Keleir takes a deep breath, slowly releasing it, "Aye, I remember now. Malahir.. he man that wishes to learn the northern speech for some mysterious reason.", he says mostly to himself after the the man finishes with his orders to the men gathered. As the guards scurry to ready themselves, Keleir remains still, waiting to move to the east.

The small patrol forms quickly, their discipline shining through as they form up. Analdin just behind Malahir, gives him a quick smile, a nod, and then waves the men on eastward.

(Editor/Logger's note:  Here is where everyone goes east a bunch and we marc until we meet with the orcs.)

Rao leads the troop deep into the ruin. He still tries to get some tracks but it seems the tarks are well hidden. Nobody is shown and nobody is seen around. This ruin seems really lonely now.

The rubble-strewn streets here at the eastern edge of Osgiliath lie blanketed in the evening's deep shadow, the overcast sky allowing little of the stars' faint glow over the seemingly deserted landscape. All around the broken ruins, dark, squat figures scamper in and out of the darkness, searching through the heaps of stones and smashed walls. Narrow eyes glimmer faintly from the inky blackness, peering out across the rough streets and towards the buildings to the west.

Sanos follows his rank of march, as they slow...and approach what seems to be thier destination, altough, nothing can be seen to his eyes.

In the distance, you hear the sharp blare of trumpets sounding resoundingly over the carrion stained fields. Then, in a long line, with spears like the thorns of a winter brush, a long wing of Men come marching. Their mail is bright and their eyes grey and at their head there is one taller than the others: Aearion he is named, a Captain of the hosts of the West.

Malahir marches his force of black clad guards, with a mixture of scouts in the forfront down the road toward the east. His columns are in two rows alongside the street, the soldiers keeping their eyes on the ruins about.

Gorbag crouches beside a tumbled wall, leaning easily against it's broken stones as he peers through the darkness towards the east. His head snaps around at the sudden horn call, eyes widening in alarm. With a soft growl, the Uruk-hai reaches for the spear at his side, gripping it firmly in one hand as he rises to his feet and scans the area around himself.

Analdin strides in step with Malahir's force, marching beside the man, his gaze warily along the road and their path. Keeping one hand on the hilt of his sword, the other half raised in order to give the quick order to halt should the need be, his steps are wary and his bright eyes keen in the clearness of the early evening.

As the horns sound, Sanos clasps and wields his sword. A fire lites in his eyes as he can make out shapes of his foes.

Aearion draws his long sword and he lifts his voice up, "Night was early, winter cold, when we greeted the sun in a hard dusk. And the blood flowed freely in the carrion fields of the wreck of the stone-kingdom of old - that place of Men long forgot: Osgiliath. Our terms are bought, and this place is sufficed naught save in memory of that which is old."

As the horn sounds a scowl crosses Ra_Klar's face. In front of some of the men he is one of the scouts that has been set to watch the way. His sword is at the ready, and his shield is on his arm, though not yet up.

Ra_Klar wields Elderach, the sound of metal escaping the sheath is clean and beautiful.

The black Mordain scramble over the broken ruins and rubble-strewn streets, a large force of well-armed warriors gathering beside a collapsed building near one side of the main road. Dozens of leather-clad Uruk scouts dart to and fro, hurrying across the streets to rejoin the patrol and report to their officers. The Uruks of Mordor gather in one thick black mass, moving to stand near the center of the road as the men of Gondor approach from the west.

Tarnok watches the uruks as they keep faining out over the rubble and frowns as he he sees the uruks are spread too thinly. he then glances down the road and see a human patrol comeing out of the ruin city and hisses faitly to himself as he hold his rock more tightly.

Over the rim of a turned over statue, long felled and in ruins like everything else strewn about. A green masked head pops up, the mans grey eyes peer out. To either side of him similar clad men, each with the same green masks poke their heads up and the threesome spy upon the encounter before them as it begins to unfold. Goresgal turns to the man on his right, "Well guessed Mithdraug, you were correct and it is as you feared. Now come and let us aid the men of Gondor as best we can.."

Guruok Czaark yanks his scimitar out, and hold the curved blade in front of him, and you almost hear a hiss of anticipation from the blade.

Aearion climbs on a great stone and looks over his Men, "Fear no shadow, nor dark place. No cowards are we - we heirs of the West. In us is the strength of ages long fortold. On with the patrol!"

Malahir motions his hand behind him, informing the columns to stand their ground. The blarring of horns can be heard, and he looks over toward his lieutenant and whispers, "What is this I hear sir? Do the orcish armies spur their charge as such?"

Rao retreats and steps into the troops lines because now his tracking skills worths nothing. The enemy is known, so now he must only be careful to not be the target of any such weaponed man. He waits till the others begin to attack...

Elidran whips his sword forth in a bold gesture, and flashes a grin at Sanos, his eyes gleaming with readiness, "Now for the fight, my friend." his keen eyes turn on the approaching enemy.

Keleir picks his way over rubble and vegetation, and walks towards the ruins of Osgiliath.

Gorbag utters a low curse in his own foul tongue, cunning eyes flashing angrily at the sight which appears through the darkness from the west. His spear rises over head it's broad head pointing eastwards, back towards the forests of Ithilien and the mountains of Mordor. "<UNINTELLIGIBLE SPEECH>" He calls out, "<UNINTELLIGIBLE SPEECH>"

Sanos nods and clasps his hilt tightly, "Yes my friend, may no fowl beast prove to block you, and remember my words! Luck to you soldier, and may I recieve your name later!" He ends with a glare to the front of the ranks, and the ruins before him.

Elidran lifts his sword to Sanos as his only reply, and focuses his stern gaze on the approaching enemy, moving in formation towards them.

Torelin marches forward behind Sanos and Elidran, his axe readied and there is a noticeable calm to him as he moves forward.

Ra_Klar looks about, as they continue on he brings his shield into a more useful position, so that it might avail him of something. His steps quicken as he 'smells' something about to begin.

The three Rangers, tall and bearing great longbows as tall as themselves emerge from the sides of the rubble then stand together, "There look!" Exclaims one and the three look upon the great lumbering form of a mighty black skinned brute. Goresgal frowns and turns to the man, "Tis a Troll and a fell beast at that, for unless I'm mistaken it sent me near broken from our land. Curse!, draw arrows and sight the servant of the dark one!"

Analdin tilts his head, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he waits listening, hand on sword hilt, and the blade a few inches out of its sheath. Replying to Malahir's whispered question, he says silently, "They attack when they attack... Be ready for it whenever it comes about."

Sanos plods on with a haste about him, and sudden rage.

Aearion smiles at Sanos and Elidran, "Such Men of Gondor. Surely if such Men live now in its latter days, that great it must have been in its rising." Aearion looks eastward and then cries in a mighty voice, "Forth friends of battle! To war! To war! Foes! Draw your swords and with a shout cry, 'for Gondor!'"

And even before the battle is joined, the visibly inferior force of Mordain, not more than three dozen in size begins to withdraw, holding some semblance of order at first, but soon surging back through the ruins in small clusters. Gorbag watches for a moment, the first of the retreating orcs reaching his position before turning away himself and hurrying back through the streets to safety, towards the treest to the east.

Rao says something unintelligible.

Goresgal reaches for a long, green fletched arrow and nocks it quickly in place. He lifts the bow and his teeth clench as he pulls hard on the string, drawing the arrow to his cheek. He takes a deep breath and holds it while he aims, the barbed tip in line with the great Olog. "May Orome guide our arrows my friends" And with that the first arrow is let loose!

Goresgal launches an arrow...
Goresgal's bowshot hits Tarnok, mildly wounding him.

Listening to the wise words, he swiftly removes his sword from his scabbard and turns about on his men, "Men, the enemy awaits us. Shall we give them charge with all the fury that is pent up inside. We shall be free from the scourge that ruins our fair cities and lays them waste. Form a battle line, we shall sweep the uruk-hai back to their dark homes", aiming his sword tip down the street at stranglers of orcs bearing rocks.

Tarnok nods at hearing the command that his Tek'Rak give then eyes the human force for a moment and smiles faintly and knows that the uruks will need time to fall back. he then Yells to the human force from his place will in back and booms "Tarks of lands of the west, Send forward you best fighter and we will do battle, one on one. The winner will.." he then gose quest as a rain of arrown shatter on his skin, ge then lets his rock fly in to there masses and shout "I see you tark have no idea of the arts of war!!!

Sanos breaks from his rank and moves swiftly up to the charging line. A valiant glint shines in his eyes.

Tarnok throws a boulder...
Tarnok's boulder flies wide, doing no harm.

Aearion's eyes flash and he leaps down from his stone. He brandishes his sword and with a cry of Gondor, Aearion charges forth!

Tarnok he quickly pulls his hammer and waits for the human leader respons to his chanange.

Analdin, arms folded over his mailed chest, awaits the reply to Malahir's words... Yet, at the shout of an orc before him, he draws his sword from its scabard quickly, forming near the head, looking quickly to Malahir then to the orcs before them.

As the words of the large servant of evil's voice booms forth, Ra_Klar heads for the troll. "Aye, foul vermin, I will test mine valor against the likes of thee." With that he heads toward the Olog with a slow deliberate pace.

Gorbag hurries back among the main force of orcish soldiers, pausing as he reaches a high pile of broken rubble and turning to watch the advancing humans. "<UNINTELLIGIBLE SPEECH>" He growls, his right hand clenched tightly around the haft of his spear, "<UNINTELLIGIBLE SPEECH>"

Malahir looks to his commander for answers to this disturbing turn of events, thinking the wiser to stop the tirade, "We shall not be tricked by this sir. We must stand our ground if we have too".

Aearion watches the boulder come crashing down like a huge missle. He looks at the troll and then says to his sword, "May fortune smile upon you today Troll-Bane." With a fey look in his eye he surges forth leading a company toward the troll.

Guruok snarls sligtly at Gorbag's words, and looks back over his shoulder at the weak forces behind him. Glancing back at the Tek'Rak, he makes his decision, and trots towards the east after Gorbag.

Goresgal frowns as the shafts crack against the thick hide of the Troll and as their own side draws close, "<Adunaic> That is it then, we can't fire else dare strike our own.." He gazes about quickly, searching for other targets.

Analdin gives Malahir a warning shake of his head, quickly glancing once again about, "Then stand if you will, but something must be done. Will you stand here, or lead your men into the fight?" He lays the decision on Malahir's shoulders, keeping a wary eye on the foe not all too far away. "Whatever you decide, however, your decision must be made quickly."

Rao hears the tek'rak's words and glances to his back. He then looks ahead and checks the enemy's power. He sees that the commander moves back so he begins to do so too. Se suddenly turns his back to the enemy and begins running.

Elidran charges towards Rao, but as the orc turns and flees, he scuffs to a halt, scowling after the enemy, "Run, craven servants of the Dark Lord!" He bellows, waving his sword aloft with a snort of disgust.

Tarnok moves forward to meet the comander of the humand force and looks down at the commaner that moves forward and says "Know this tark, and says"Tell you troops to hold there bows commander of tarks, or is you pride too weak as to do battle on you honor?" he then hold his wepon at the readly and waits it he can no longer hear the uruks.

Sanos waits impatiently, for blunt commandes.

Torelin screams over the din of the fray. "They are running, the dogs!" He runs to Malahir and his eyes are wide as he says, "Do you pursue, sir?"

The Uruks of Mordor are soon gone from sight, the broken ruins and heavy, oppressive darkness hiding their black-clad frames as they make their way back towards the forests of Ithilien.

Sanos takes the question of Torelin, and looks Malahir in the eye.

"There!" Goresgal points with one gauntlet, "The enemy seek to flee" Off behind the Olog many start a slow retreat, but a few runners give them away and the threesome soon nock arrows once more and aim high, lobbing their missiles to the rear

Elidran turns as Torelin asks the question on everyone's mind, his eyes bright, eager.

The sun sets and leaves the night in a deep gloom as the smoke from the east covers up any sign of the stars.

Rao stops running when the tark taunts him. Slowly turns back(while he is at least 100 yards from the enemy), and replies "Who call me coward?" he stands in his place.

Malahir nods, his face growing stern as he turns to his men, "What are we waiting for, the enemy awaits. The troll stands in our way, so On my mark, charge as you will". Leading the charge with his sword held high, and breaking into a run toward the troll, avoiding missiles directed at his head.

Rao realizes his commander left. He immediately follows him while shouts back "I'm not coward! It is tactic!"

Sanos nods and charges behind Malahir, staring his foe down hard. He can see slightly the forms of Elidran and Torelin behind.

Ra_Klar continues advancing towards the troll. "I be not the commander, but I would lay thee to thy death none the less. Or, are the servants of evil afraid of the bold men of Gondor?"

Torelin, taking his cue from Malahir, raises his axe and runs forward. He quickly covers the ground that the commander's headstart had given him. "Ammarth!" he screams as he makes his way, like a bull toward the troll.

Tarnok looks down at Ra_Klar and then back to the human force "This one is you best figter then, and I will do battle with it, Death to any other that dares to change after him" he then looks behind him for a moment and smiles at seeing the uruks have now lefted the area and now only has to buy a bit more time for himself.

As the last of the enemy run from sight, the Gondorians hold their ground. Towering in the centre of the road is a great Troll and before him stands one of their own. The Gondorians holding to their oath and beliefs and allowing the challenge to go without interference.

Analdin, with his sword held high, charges right beside Malahir, keeping the other man not too far from him, a look of approval on his face. Charging towards the troll, he reigns in his pace as the challenge is issued, hanging back a few moments. He stops short, just on the far side of a pile of rubble, eyes intent upon the scene, sword lowered just slightly.

Sanos stops before the troll lets out his voice. Hearing of a challange, Sanos backs off a few feet and finds Elidran close by, standing in awe next to him.

Ra_Klar looks up at the troll as he continues his approach. "You speak of honor, yet follow the EYE. Is that possible?" His sword comes up and his body goes taught with energy and anticipation. "Then, mayhap you will die wiuth honor. This be your last chance to turn from the EYE and follow the true path."

Meldar steps forward over the rubble, his eyes blazing with battle-fury and lust. He draws his bow back as far as it will go and locks it there, a red-fletched arrow poised to slay. "Come any nearer then, ypu red-=eye scum..." he mutters to himself.

Malahir runs toward the troll, the huge creature standing right before the big boudler, waiting for his chance to sneak into the fry with the troll and a scout. Waving his longsword, he points his men toward the north and south of the road, in order to intrap the vile smelling beast.

Sanos follows Malahir's commands, as he moves to the rear side of the huge, fowl troll. Closely keeping his gaze to his superiors and the mallacious troll.

Meldar turns rund and calls to some of the men of the White Tree Company: "Keep fast men! If the Shippers go either side, we stay here, keep the centre, okay?" He turns back, and reaims hisbow, ekeen to unleash it should anything go amiss.

Tarnok chuckles at Ra_Klar words then booms "Now tark of the army that dose not fallow the Eye, you will know what power really is!" then with out a nother wood he swings out quickly at Ra's head and trys to shatter his skull and end this quickly so he too can join his troops.

Tarnok attacks Ra_Klar with his War Hammer, but he misses by a mile.

Sanos stands silently, as the beast speaks, and a large war hammer is cast down apon his comrade, only to be missed by miracle.

As the war hammer wizzes over his head, the scout ducks and steps up to the troll. With a fierce battle cry he steps around to the side he aims hius sword at the back of the troll

As the war hammer wizzes over his head, the scout ducks and steps up to the troll. With a fierce battle cry and a final look at all of his comrades he steps around to the side and swings Elderach at the back of the troll's knee area. As the sword arcs in Ra_Klar takes a final look up at the beast before fully commiting hisself to the combat. As an after thought he hopes that his fellow Gondorians will keep their honor and not interfere in the fight until his body is layed to waste or the great Troll has fallen.

Ra_Klar attacks Tarnok with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

There is a loud *clang as the human's blade hits the stone skin of the Troll. and seems to do next to no dammage. The Troll the brings his hammer back in a wide arc and trys to slam the hammer into the human's right side, hopeing that it will knock it back a few steps. As he dose this he take a half step back so he can get more power with his swing and to keep the human away from his backside.

Tarnok attacks Ra_Klar with his War Hammer, but he misses by a handspan.

Again the hammer goes wizzing by, barely missing it's mark. Yet, for the hugeness of the weapon, and the impending doom that it spells for the scout, he notices it not. As the troll steps back Ra_Klar steps in with a thrust to the foul beast's upper inner thigh on its left leg. "Foul vermin, when you are done the point of this blade shall strike into the heart of the acursed eye!"

Meldar silently shuts his eyes and prays for some guided hand to save the younf scout from trhe almost certain woe that awais him. He licks his lips anxiously, and fingers the fletch of his arrow. Glancing back, he sees the rest of the group in similar anticipation, and he nods, somewhat sadly to himself. He turns back, and lets Ra Klar, a good friend, combat the evil Troll unto death or victory, whichever comes first...

Ra_Klar attacks Tarnok with his Longsword, but Tarnok parries the attack with his War Hammer!

Tarnok hisses faitly at the speed of the smaller human, as he misses. Quickly he brings his weapon back so he can have readly to block the humans next attack.

Meldar slings his fine bow, Awyrfflam, from its position across his back, and brings it to bear in his left hand, all in one swift movement.

Sanos urged to charge forward and cast down the troll, holds himself back barely, relizing the situation and tradition. A fire burns about Sanos's aura, and the reinactment is lightly played out.

Analdin remains cautiously near the pile of rubble, sharp eyes watching every move the pair make. He keeps his posture ready, prepared for whatever may break out at any given moment. Though he lowers his sword but a little, he keeps his head up and his ears open.

Meldar leans over and whispers to Sanos by his side: "Sanos," he says, his voice barely audible, and lowering to a hiss, "Do not charge forth. But let fate take its twisting way and eke the combined valour of Gondor take its iron toll upon those who stand in our path. We shal be victorious, but not if anybody acts rashly." He looks back and speaks no more.

Tarnok smiles as he is able to block then humans blade on the lower shaft of his hammer, he then quickly bring the head of the hammer down quickly and hope to shatter the humand weapons arm so he will be forces to flee the field and he can make good his escape see this humans will be tied to there mis guided honor.

Tarnok attacks Ra_Klar with his War Hammer and severely wounds him!

Meldar holds his breath and the flash of blood passes across his eeys. He blinks heavily and grips tightly the shaft of his longbow. With a tremendous force of will, he decides not to shoot at the troll, and leave whatever ,ay happen to R a to take its road.

As the hammer makes contact with Ra's arm a blood curdling scream penetrates the night air. Yet, for all the loudness of the scream somehow the sound of bones crushing into near powder is clearly audible. Red starts to cover the clothing that is upon Ra's body. In the midst of all the red blood and green cloth, a piece of white bone can be seen that has had the armor, skin, and clothes all crused past it. In a moment of excruciating pain Elderach falls from Ra_Klar's useless hand, making a soft thud on the ground. His stance is wobbly at best for a few moments, then Ra falls to his knees. Sheer pride and will power keeping him from passing out due to the immense pain caused by the troll's attack.

Elidran winces at the sight of Ra's arm being crumbled. He watches, horrified.

Torelin hears the sound of the trolls attack and turns to Malahir, his face filled with rage. He yells at the commander, "We cannot stand here and watch him die!"

Goresgal eyes widen as the smaller crumbles before the great beast, he grips his longbow tightly, his teeth clenched beneath his mask, "By the Valar!" he calls out, "You have your win great servant of the dark one! Turn and leave!"

Meldar snarls over ytto Malahior, keeping his gaze on the duel, "No, Malahir, we must do somethi ng. Dare you keep your company back?"

Tarnok chuckles as the human drops to it's knees and booms "Now tark, I am done playing games" he then brings his hammer high over his head and hisses N"Now you will die, and you honor say you will all leave this field of battle and I am victor!!!" with that he bring his hammer in a powerful blow, hopeing to shatter the humans skull.

Tarnok attacks Ra_Klar with his War Hammer and severely wounds him!

Torelin doesn't wait for an answer and begins to head toward the troll, his axe raised and his eyes fixed on the troll as it tries to crush the man before it.

Malahir puts his hand up, "I shall not, but you sir, must get back to your position.", he walks out from the boulder and calls upon the troll, "I command thee to halt, and face me. Can't you see you have befallin this brave man?"

Meldar cries out and raises his bow to shoot. "No, Ra Klar!" he cries and can practtically not help himself as he aims his shot.

Meldar lowers his head for a second, his eyes closed, before, lowering his bow also and retiring with a growl to his back-up position with the rest of his company. He mutters some oaths about deserting companions.

As the Olog shows no mercy to the Gondorian scout Goresgals blood boils with anger, "We can hold no faith with such as thee!" His voice, clear and commanding echos across the wide street, "Rally Gondor! send the beast back from whence it came!!"

Goresgal launches an arrow...
Goresgal's bowshot hits Tarnok, mildly wounding him.

Meldar joins in with Goresgal's cries as he stansd tall and draws his finest arriow from its quiver. "Come, men of the White Tree!" he cries, "Join me! Rally! Charge forth unto our foe! Charge forth!" He steps forward, bringing his bow to bear.

Meldar slings his fine bow, Awyrfflam, from its position across his back, and brings it to bear in his left hand, all in one swift movement.

Torelin turns again, his face enraged. He shouts angrily at the officers, "There is no honour here! Only death!" He begins to now run toward the attacker.

Goresgal releases the arrow nocked instintively as he first watched the duel begin, it sours true and finds it mark aginst the thick troll hide.

Meldar launches an arrow...
Meldar's bowshot hits Ra_Klar, severely wounding him.

As Ra_Klar begins to find search for his sword with his still good hand, groping through the pain. He sees not the hammer coming down for it's final blow. 'CRUNCH' is the only sound that is made as the hammer connects, turning Ra's brain into mush. A last gurgling sound is all that can be heard from Ra's mouth as his groping fingers finally find his blade in time to grip it in his death. His body slumps over and lands solidly on the ground, the troll having won. In it's final peaceful slumber his body doesn't even twitch as an arrow pierces his from behind.

Malahir steps before the beast and threatens him with a swing of his longsword, "Back, or I shall not give you the pleasure of a even fight, and release a company of men upon your back, side stepping over to wear Ra Klar lies.

At Goresgal's shout, Analdin looks about at his company, scattered about as they are, and gives a slight beckoning wave to Malahir. Tossing Meldar a smile for his mutterings, he raises his sword and advances upon the troll, though his smile fades at once at the sight of Ra Klar's demise.

Elidran runs after Malahir and the others, sword drawn, his expression concerned as he spots Ra Klar slumping onto the ground.

Meldar charges forth, ignoring his useless aiming skills, and draws a long machete from its sheath, running forward crying warcries loud and clear.

Torelin, coming at the trolls flank, prepares to swing his axe. He doesn't seem to aim for anywhere in particular, since there is so much of the troll to hit.

Meldar leaps froward over the urubble, aiming for nothing save the troll. His blade arcs high in the air, but the TRoll steps out of the way.

Goresgal pulls his mask aside as the fallen scout sprawls on the ground before the Troll, his face dirty from sweat and tears. He quickly slings his great bow over his shoulder and rushes forth, leaping lightly over rock and rubble, flanked by the other two Rangers. His face hard and grim and with a flash of steel his blade is drawn and he continues a path for the mighty Olog.

Goresgal slips his bow over his shoulder and rests it across his back.

Meldar puts down a Bow.
Meldar removes Awyrfflam.

Goresgal wields Cirmaeg.

Tarnok chuckles as he the human falls under his blow, and then chuckles again as arrows seem to shatter on his skin.Looking up at the human force as it beings to come forward he begins to take a few steps back and graps a bit of rubble with his free hand and holds and trys to bring it to the readly, hopeing that seeing a troll with a rock, at the readly this will keeps the humans at bay so he and get his barrings to flee back to his camp.

Tarnok hefts the large boulder up over his head.

Meldar drops his bow to lighten the load, and aims again with his blade,, his face stone hard with bravery, his jaw jutting out in a cry of vengeance.

Torelin arcs his axe with all his strength in a chopping motion. He lets loose the mightiest cry he can as he brings the axe down.

Torelin attacks Tarnok with his Axe and mildly wounds him!

Goresgal continues on his path, his shield is swung down from where it was shouldered. He steps up too the top of one large piece of rubble, a once front of a building and then bounds quickly down to the other side, landing only a few yards now from where the fallen Ra_Klar lies.

Meldar's shot misses. Suddenly, he notices Ra's discarded sword. With a frown of determination, he ducks downm, pulling it from the fround like Excalibur. He wields it above his head and charges again, screaming bloody revenge for the death of Ra Klar, knowing well that his Nemesiss may be nigh/.

Meldar wields Elderach, the sound of metal escaping the sheath is clean and beautiful.

Meldar attacks the Olog Hai with brutal force as his sword swings high in a diamond arc, aiming at the foul thing's hea.

Meldar attacks Tarnok with his Longsword, but he misses by a handspan.

Tarnok truns a bit and is about to run with Torelin's axe hits his leg and shatters a few link of his armor, but dose little more than that. looking back at this tark, the Troll drops the rock he is holding in a vain hope to chush this human as he brings his hammer back to the readly and beging to take large steps away from the human force.

Tarnok throws a boulder...
Tarnok's boulder flies wide, doing no harm.

Malahir, his feet up against the croupled body of the brave scout, figures that the chaos of the attack has left a bleeding comrade, who may still have a chance at survival, grounded. He swiftly places his longsword in his scabbard with discust written all over his face. Shaking his head sadly, he bends down to place his ear over the man's mouth, listening for any sign of breathing.

As Malahir valaintly attempts to help the downed scout, blood continues to flow freely from Ra's mouth. Unfortuneatly, Blood is the only thing that escapes his lips. No air passes through his body any longer.

Elidran regards Ra with stark horror, his face pale, drained of blood. This is the first death he's ever seen.

Malahir shakes his head. Clinching his teeth, as his memory flashes back to his own near death. Spotting the first guard he sees as he looks up he cries, "Elidran, get over here, we shall take this man to the garrison immediately".

Elidran bobs his head to Malahir, and is at his side in an instant, "Aye sir, "He says, stricken.

Meldar misses his shot once again, and he ducs down, dropping his balade, stooping by the body of Ra Klar. He mutters to himself as he assists Malahir in loosening the scout's shirt and slowing the blood flow. He places the head on one dside for the blood to flow out and not back in.

Before you is a beast that seems to be made of stone and can only be one thing, that being a Olog-hai. This monster stands just over 15 feet tall, and wears bits of chain armor over it's arms and legs. On it's chest, there is a large gold plate with the mark of the Eye on it, that is tied in place. It also wears a belt with a number of pouches hanging from it(as well as a number of beards taken from dwarfs, and a few feathers from a great eagle), it also has a deadly looking hammer in a belt loop.

Analdin raises his blade, a bit later than the others, but with a look of determined rage, charges the troll. His eyes are dark, and his breathing comes a bit quicker than normal, the anger in his posture is all too evident. With a single thrust on his way in, he attempts to drive his sword into the troll.

Tarnok keeps moveing down the path, there is a faint ring of metal on his left leg as Meldar's blade hits home, but dose next to nothing. he then swings back with his weapon and trys to bat the human away. He then yells "The Eye owns this land, and I will have 10 times 10 times 10 times 10 uruks here with in a day!! then Your troops with feed the army of the Eye!!!

Tarnok attacks Meldar with his War Hammer and moderately wounds him!

You attack Tarnok with your Longsword...
Tarnok parries your attack with his War Hammer!

Malahir watches the man who aided in putting the brave lad down, "You sir, are you a healer by trade, it is obvious your archery skills are not your calling", realizing the corporal rank he sneers, "You are Meldar, of the White Tree are you not?", not even waiting for a response, "Then you know the way to the camp. Elidran and I will carry him as you attempt to ease his wounds."

Torelin watches the boulder fly wide of him and realizing that the troll is flanked on all sides, stays to its back, not wanting the beast to escape. He lets loose another swing aiming to gouge the lower back; again he puts his full weight into his blow.

Meldar does not notice the massive blow that strikes him until it ids too late. He pays for his folly with his bow by being struck full force by a ham,mer of the Dark Lord. He cries out in agony as torso is smashed by the hammerhead. Blood dpews out of his chest and he falls on his side, the sword clamnging away to the rground. With a mighty grimace he clenchesd his teeth.

A small cough starts to WRACK Ra's body for a moment. His eyes flutter for a brief moment, then a cracking whisper utters his final words. "Goresgal.....Gores....gal.....Light......Gondor.....Rangers........Mal....a...Friend...." A final shudder wracks through his body and he goes still one final time.

Elidran's expression is one of horror, "He's..he's dead." He mutters, "It's too late for the healers."

Goresgal comes along side of the great Hai, sighing as he resigns himself to the task at hand and the beast not even caring about the smaller foes as they scurry about him. Swinging his blade he aims to slash the Hai's large side, exposed but not unprotected, its thick hide covering it all over.

Goresgal attacks Tarnok with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

Ignoring the carnage behind him, and the bickering amongst non believers, Malahir hefts the body of the man, blood soaking the chain mail around his torso. He makes his way down the rubble strewn street and toward the bridge to the west.

Meldar groans in pain as he slumps off on both knees, blood seeping from a hole in his chest where his ribs hould be. He puts a hand to his forehead and mumbles something to himself. He casts a glance back at the Olog, fury racking his brain and senses.

Tarnok hisses as yet another human trys to attack him, quickly(on his back swing) he is able to block one humans attack but the ring of a blade of his flank forces him to stop and trun to face those that have let blind rage take over the minds. The Troll then lets out a unholy cry of rage and swings his hammer in a wide arc hopeing to shatter a one of the humans that flank him.

Tarnok attacks you with his War Hammer!...
...and he misses!

Elidran kneels, picking Meldor up as quickly as he can, grimacing at the bloodflow, "Steel yourself, friend, you shall be healed!"

Torelin lets his axe fly, his rage expressed through the blade.

Torelin attacks Tarnok with his Axe, but he misses by a mile.

Malahir picks his way over rubble and vegetation, and walks towards the ruins of Osgiliath.

Malahir has left.

Meldar nods with a groan, and he growls to while away the pain, as he stops the blood in his chest with a cloth. Hre looks at Elidran with a faint smile and nods again , "Aye friend, " he says, "Take me there, away, I have seen enough, I am a coward." He sighs deeply to himself.

Meldar picks his way over rubble and vegetation, and walks towards the ruins of Osgiliath.
Meldar has left.

Elidran picks his way over rubble and vegetation, and walks towards the ruins of Osgiliath.
Elidran has left.

Ra_Klar picks his way over rubble and vegetation, and walks towards the ruins of Osgiliath.
Ra_Klar has left.

Tarnok dose not see Torelin's attack, as he is looking at Analdin at the moment, but it gose wide as he sifts his mass to do another wide arc swing. almost in blind rage he swings out hopeing that his swing will lower the numbers that block him fleeing the area.

Dodging around the march larger Olog, Analdin steps aside of the blow, managing to miss its promise of injury. Eyes narrowing slightly, he comes in once more for a quick thrust at the troll's side with his longsword, bringing the tip against his opponent's hard skin with as much force as he can muster yet still keep his balance.

Tarnok attacks Goresgal with his War Hammer and badly wounds him!

You attack Tarnok with your Longsword...
Your attack against Tarnok mildly wounds him!

Goresgal brings himself too close and unseeing a wide swing from the beast catches him squarely in the chest, lifting him mid stride and sending the Ranger flying. He lands flat on his back some yards distant with a grunt and a hard exhale of air.

Torelin cries out as Goresgal reels under the trolls blow. He growls intensely and his training leaves him and he flails at the Trolls side; he seems not to care if the troll hits him or not as he brings his axe down upon the troll, cleaving the air with a faint whistle.

Elidran comes out of the rubble-strewn entranceway and towards you.

Tarnok hisses and he hears another ring of metal off his flesh, now seeing that the numbers have fallen off abit he lock his eyes on Analdin and howls darkly "Now you will join the other dead tarks" with than be brings his hammer back and trys to slam it into Analdin's right side.

Tarnok attacks you with his War Hammer!...
...and he hits! Ouch!

Torelin cries out as Goresgal reels under the trolls blow. He growls intensely and his training leaves him and he flails at the Trolls side; he seems not to care if the troll hits him or not as he brings his axe down upon the troll, cleaving the air with a faint whistle.

Torelin attacks Tarnok with his Axe and mildly wounds him!

Analdin brings his shield about as the troll's blow comes heading toward him, and he tries to twist out of the way, but is not quite fast enough in either pursuit. As the blow comes crashing into his right side, the young officer lets out a loud gasp of pain, though no cry escapes his lips. And no returning blow comes from his sword, his entire right arm engaged in holding his side. He glares hard at the troll, muttering something under his breath.

Meldar comes out of the rubble-strewn entranceway and towards you.
Meldar has arrived.

Tarnok hisses darkly as others move forward to take the place of the fallen and wounded. The troll then swings out at the huma with the axe, not carring if he hits, but his back swing shatters the skull of one of the new humans that have joinedinto the fight and drops it like a stone.

Tarnok attacks Torelin with his War Hammer and badly wounds him!

Two green clad men rush to Goresgals side as he stands tall once more, his chest and pride pained from the blow, but even as his breath draws harsh he advances once more bringing the other men with him, he strides up quickly along side analdin calling out "O Elbereth, guide our blades!" he lunges out as he calls the name of the star lady.

Goresgal attacks Tarnok with his Longsword and mildly wounds him!

Analdin shoves his sword angrily into its sheath, holding tight to his side, and begins a slow pace towards the camp to the west, muttering beneath his breath the whole time.

(Editor/Logger's note:  This is the part where I ditched the battle and went on to the camp, too wounded to fight more.  There was more fighting, but I had to disconnect, and couldn't log it.  It wasn't much longer, however, before it was all over.)

Analdin stumbles into camp, exhaustion showing all over his face, mingled with the blood, dirt, and sweat. His polished armor, polished no longer, hangs about him, and an arm holds against a huge bash in his right side.