Post by Teneas on Oct 21, 2009 11:54:47 GMT -5
Foaming at the mouth, and bleeding badly from the left side, the orc rushed forward. Spittle flying, wickedly spiked club raised, he moved quickly across the Citadel entrance room.
Beard flying in the wind, axe over his low ducked head, a huge shield tucked into his flank, the dwarf was none the slower. Fire in his eyes, and a spark of insanity in battle, he made his way for the first orc he laid eyes upon. This unfortunate orc would feel that axe this day.
Club went high, and an axe went low, as the two narrowed the gap between themselves. Pulling up just short of the orc, the club came in just shy of the dwarves head. Axe came up from under the club swing, hacking it's way through the arms flesh. Screams of pain and rage came from the bluish orc. Again he thrust the club down to surely flatten the dwarf. It came down upon a hunk of iron, and adamantine armor. The shield flicked the club off with realitive ease, but the dwarves' arm ached from the strong strike.
Dwarven hands tightened upon his axe handle, and he swung at the nearest leg of the orc. The orc back trod fast, as the dwarf kept his attack up. Axe to club, club to shield, axe getting in some hits, but never a solid enough one to end the fight. The two beasts battled over other fallen. Dwarves, and orcs had died this day, but at least the dwarves had the advantage. This day could be won.
The dwarf thrusts his shield end down hard on the orc's foot, followed by the spit of a certain inraged stout. Off balance and blinded, the orc swung widly, and it was the moment that the dwarf had waited upon. He tucked his shield into his flank, and hurled himself at the orc, swinging like a enthralled warrior. Axe met with ribs, and the spray of hot liguid met it was a solid enough blow. The orc slumped, as another barrage of axe blows came to it's side, chest, and head.
Blood splattered, with pieces of the orc's skull in tow. The dwarf stopped swinging for a moment, spit upon the orc, and had a look around. They had made it into "Citadel Many Arrows", the two orc tribes had been fighting for nearly 4 moons inside the once proud dwarven home. The tired orcs were worn from time spent killing each other and were not prepared when the dwarves arrived with others from Silverymoon. This work would be quicker than they thought.
Nemil Flinthammer, cleric of Clangeddin, looked over to the bloodied cousin on his. The dwarf was just now getting that axe from the orc's side. Nemil nodded.
Upon the mound where he had slain the orc recently, Fignar Flinthammer gave a nod back.
"Ya all fooked oop doon dare?" Fignar belted across the gap.
"Nuttin sum triple bock, an lasses nay fix" came the reply. "How boot yaself Fignar? Ya got blood flowin all ova ya"
Fignar was gone however, running full speed down the small mound he had battled upon, in search of the next poor orc that met his path.
The retaking of Felbarr had come.