Siege of Marshank--Day 1
There's no way that the horde is unnoticed by the enemy now. Beneath a gray sky, the column marches along pale sands, halting a short distance from the path to Marshank. At first, the horde just stands there, but, at Darkwatcher's urging, the hordebeasts hit the ground, digging shallow trenches in the sand for cover as the first arrows fly overhead.
Livune weaves amongst the other horde beasts on the shore, his short stature is very useful in this situation, as his taller neighbors make great shields.
Crystal sits behind a rock, calmly sharpening her dagger. Arrows smack against the opposite side of her cover, and a weasel archer next to her takes one through the bicep. She callously ignores his cries of pain.
The enemy archers aren't the only ones getting hit. Screams of shock and agony can be heard from the fortress as the ballistae open up with burning projectiles.
Gildor has taken a spot behind another boulder and he is driping poisen from his pouch onto his blades.
Hell is beginning to open up. Arrows, some of which are burning, rain down on both the fortress and the shore. The horde, by this time, has hunkered down in improvised trenches dug in the sand. The Nightblades are behind various forms of cover, mostly boulders, and are having a far easier time than their comrades commanded by Morgoth.
Livune has no plans to help dig, he simply takes an early start on looting by staying behind his taller fellows and grabbing things that catch his fancy from their still twitching corpses. Once the trenches and mounds of sand begin to form Livune slips behind a mound of sand to wait for what will come next.
Morgoth fallows the horde "yelling "Get cover all of you!" then he jumps behind a rock
"NOW he gets it," Darkwatcher murmurs, laughing mirthlessly as he puts an arrow between a defender's eyes. Behind him, the weasel captain Ripclaw bellows for a part of the formation to advance. "Fools," Darkwatcher mutters.
Crystal puts the finishing touches on her blade and then flips it into a backhanded grip. She looks down at the still screaming archer and puts him out of his misery before slipping to the left, slinking from boulder to boulder towards the fortress.
His blade now fully poisoned, Gildor sits tight for a moment before following Crystals actions.
Dethwing is perched on an arrow protruding from the chest of a fallen stoat. At a muttered command from his master, the crow launches himself into the air, cawing harshly as he avoids enemy arrows and slingstones contemptously. Darkwatcher pauses, timing his next move, and, when there's a momentary lull in enemy fire, dashes like mad towards a boulder closer to Marshank.
Livune bides his time and watches for now. The ermine occasionally raises his buckler up over the top of the mound that he lounges behind and looks between it and the mound to check the progress.
Fuin runs over to a corps and picks up a shield biger then he is, then he walks over to Morgoth
It's a good thing that Fuin picked up the shield when he did. As he walks over to Morgoth, a hail of arrows rattles into the sand around him, and more than a few of them slam into the shield
Crystal slowly works her way towards the wall, only having to dodge a few arrows here and there. Along with Gildor, a few of the smarter hordebeasts follow her, a ferret archer and a few rats with swords and spears.
Gildor peeks over a rock to look at Marshank. He frowns slightly, but shugs and keeps making his way toword the fortress.
Without warning, a huge bolt from one of the ballistae arcs out from the clifftop and slams into the sand near the horde. "/Really/ wish they'd aim more carefully," Darkwatcher mutters as he eliminates another defender with a brutally precise shot from his longbow.
Morgoth exclaims, "Fuin, see if there is any other beast with thos shields, and get to the wall!""
Livune slips in with the bulk of the horde and into anomoty as he keeps low and hopefully out of the paths of most arrows.
Livune leaves Darkwatcher's group and wanders off on his own.
Fuin says, "Yes sir!" and starts runing to look for more beasts that have big shields, but can only find 3 beasts that have them.
Shaking his head at the predicament of the hordebeast and his leader, Darkwatcher shouts, "Try lashing driftwood together!" Without waiting to see if they do so, he takes a small portion of the horde and maneuvers around to the other side of the fort, out of view.
Morgoth exclaims, "do as the fox says!"
Gildor is now three boulders away from the wall. He is about the make a dash for the next boulder when an arrow thunks into his foot paw. He grunts than yanks it out. He stays behind the boulder for a few more minuts.
Fuin, with the 3 beasts, runs to the wall of Marshank with out much trubbel
A cold, steady rain begins to fall along the coast, wind from the sea blowing it slightly sideways. Crystal and the small band following her stop when Gildor is hit. The walltop archers have noticed their advance and have begun to fire at them, killing one of the rats with her.
Gildor calls to Crystal "do you have any spare cloth? I need a bandage." He keeps his head down at the hale of arrows
Fuin runs over to Crystal with the 3 beasts "here are some more"
Crystal looks over at Gildor, the ferret archer next to her doing his best to keep the defenders' heads down while the three shield beasts hold their shields out to block the arrow fire on them. She shrugs, "Nothin'!" she yells over at him.
Gildor nods "thanks anyway." He peeks up one more time and is almost killed "bad idea" he mutters to himself.
Crystal smacks the wet sand frustratedly, "We can't go anywhere, they got us pinned down." she yells, though this fact is quite obvious.
Gildor growles and nods "Thats the truth. Do you think we can hold out here till night? than they won't be able to see us and we can keep going." I mutters "I hope its not full moon tonight."
"With our luck it will be..." she grumbles as one of the rats with them sticks his head up and catches an arrow.
Gildor grins "the least we could do is try and be happy." He is being slightly sarcastic.
Crystal gives him a glare and flips him off. The weasel archer is out of arrows so he is just trying not to get shot.
Gildor grins, but says nothing. All they can do it wait.
Crystal stabs the sand boredly, as if she dosen't even notice the arrows clipping inches above her ears
Gildor sighs. He takes out his poison and starts to mix some of it. After awhile he puts it away and calls to Crystal "Maybe we should have brought card games with us."
Crystal glares at him. She seems to be pretty upset that she's missing out on the killing.
Gildor mutters at the glare "If looks could kill." He sighs and leans back on the rock. He is thinking about takeing a nap since there is nothing better to do
The cold rain that is getting heavier is not helping Crystal's mood one bit. She looks up over the rock as quick as she can and still nearly loses an ear. She curses and settles down a little, digging into the sand some.
Gildor loves water and the rain prooves to make him happyer. He calls over to Crystal "there arrows can't last forever." He says this in a rathert cheerfull voice.
"Don't count on it." she growls, but he's right, the arrows are starting to let up some, archers directing their attention back to the main horde, which is still being raked with arrowfire.
Gildor peeks over the top of his rock then ducks back down "do you think we can move on?"
Crystal shrugs, "We don't have enough beasts with us to take the walls."
Gildor thinks a minut than nods "Your right." He sighs and looks at the sky than he starts to hum quietly to himself.
Crystal looks over at him, "Well I guess we jus' wait then..." she says angrily.
Gildor grins "you don't like waiting?"
"We've been waiting for the past month or so...."
Gildor nods "True....I guess this is not very different."
Crystal shakes her head, "It's worse. At least on the cliffs we weren't bein' shot at." she sighs and starts a quiet conversation with the weasel archer, whose name is Faren.
Gildor nods and mutter somthing to himself. He closes his eyes and appears to go to sleep, but that is highly unlikely.
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