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08-22-2003, 06:40 AM | #25 |
Spirited Weaver of Fates
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Ghurdan sat proudly upon one of the horses they had stolen two nights ago, his spear in his left hand and his sword in the other, he watched Thorgom brandishing his axes with wild anticipation, he had been right to untie the warrior without Sevora's permission, better he die then one of his men, he thought grinning wickedly. He looked out at the Infidels before them. his grin widening as he realised that their suspicions had been correct, not all of the forces he had seen two nights ago stood before them, the archers were not present, he glanced left and right wondering when and where they would appear. But just them the Tribesmen drew back a little and Ghurdan saw Zasfal's Arrows arch in the clear sky. "CHARGE!!" he cried lowering his spear and spurring the horse onwards into his waiting foe.
He drove his spear into the body of the first of the wild Baobab men who were their enemies front line, then tossed him aside. He continued skewering the foot warriors until one smash a heavy club across it's shaft snapping it in two, Ghurdan threw it down, but as he turned to cut the man down he felt a heavy blow to his side, not strong enough to break his ribs, but strong enough to knock him from his horse. He rolled anticipating another blow, but it never came. Just then the cold voice in his head yelled "Jasara!" Ghurdan jumped to his feet and looked around wildly, he saw her being assailed by one of the young horse riders, he pulled out his dagger and stabbing and slicing at his enemies he made his way towards her..... *+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+* The first volley of arrows from their enemies had amazingly only killed one adult and two youngsters, Zasfal and the others had managed to dive out of the way. As arrows continued to skip off the rock face, he yelled to one of his companions to throw his bottle in the air towards their attackers, quickly nocking another flaming arrow as he spoke. His companion nodded once then threw the bottle high and out towards the archers, Zasfal fired, the bottle shattered with a loud bang as the flames met the liquid inside, sending flames raining down on their un-expecting enemies. Zasfal then threw his bottle and his companion did likewise exploding it into another torrent of flaming rain. They then picked off the archers as they rolled on the ground trying to put out the fires on their hair and clothes or as they ran off screaming that the dark one was raining fire down upon them. They continued firing until their arrows were spent, then throwing down their bows and unsheathing their swords, the five that remained took a quick look at each other then leapt down and charged at the remaining archers of their enemies. Zasfals Curved sword in one hand and his black hammer in the other he slashed and smashed at his victims, until all the archers were dead or fleeing, he breathed heavily and looked around, their was only three of his group still standing, one of the crew and one of the youngsters. Zasfal watched the main battle for a second, then raising his sword and hammer in air and ignoring the sharp pain in his left shoulder, he cried "For the greater glory of the Eye!" Then he charged headlong into the rear of his enemies. His hammer connected with one of the riders knocking him from his horse, the white haired man got up quicker than he had expected, swinging his sword across Zasfal's chest as he rose, it cut his clothing as he jumped back out of reach, the end of the old man's sword nicking only his chin. Their swords clashed with a sharp ringing as the old man blocked his counter strike and so it went on for some time as each successfully blocked blow after blow. Zasfal saw an excited light in the old mans eyes, 'He is playing with me trying to tire me out!'. "No!" he screamed he was not going to let this old man beat him. He raised his hammer and with all the force he could muster he slammed it against the old mans sword arm, he grinned as he heard it snap and quickly he seized the opening, plunging his sword deep into the old mans stomach. The mans eyes widened, then with one last gasp he crumpled to the ground, Zasfal put his foot on the dead mans body and pulled out his blade, "Ishak!" he heard another behind him cry. He quickly spun around to meet this new foe. [ August 22, 2003: Message edited by: Nerindel ]
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"Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone you may still exist, but you have ceased to live" ~ Mark Twain. |
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