Year 2947: Theft of the Moon

[Vladim]

Luckily for Nori, his armor seems to be made of sturdier stuff than Gizik's swings. While the dwarf does his best to chop at the man, he seems to similarly be taking the smaller brute's attacks in stride. Raising his axe over his head with both hands, the rust-haired denizen of the Lonely Mountain shouts, "HAVE AT YOU!" before bringing the blade straight down in vertical fashion, hacking away a chunk of the man's armor and wounding him a bit, but causing no major damage in the process.

Nori seems frustrated with his previous failures. He isn't attacking the man with wild abandon, but he certainly seems to be exposing himself a great deal. Mental quicksand? Perhaps. But he seems to be holding his own in the melee - part of it raw skill and the other part (perhaps a larger chuck) a blessing of the gods. When Gramtyng shouts out to his companions, there's a brief pause on the dwarf's part as he looks over to his comrade. Hesitating just a second as he processes what has been said, he gives the Rohirrim a firm nod of the head before bringing his axe out wide to the right and coming in at his well-armored foe's side. "Just... Go... Down!" he grunts as the blade swings in.

[Vladim]

The battle grows more furious by the moment, neither side willing to yield. Even Cenric, who wouldnt stop talking before was now concentrating only on the huntress before him, who managed to inflict quite a bit of punishment on him.
Sweat littered the bandit's brow as he parried the woman's swings and launched his own, landing two qjick slices just as she cut into his side.

Nori and Gizik's fight was slightly more vocal - if you can count the dwarf's warcries and Gizik's guttural growls as 'vocal'. Unlike Cenric, Gizik did not try to dodge the axe, instead blocking the blows directly with his shield and grinding his teeth when they hit home. He had gotten another good strike, perhaps knowing where the weakspot of dwarven armors had been. Despite the man's unnatural toughness, wounds were still being inflicted on him.

Gramtyng and Fundor, previously fighting shoulder to shoulder, had been shifted back - or at least, the bard was, as he was knocked off balamce and gasping for a breath. Taking note of this, the bandit in front of him attempted to launch another attack bur missed, tripping over a stone. Hearing his cursing and being done with their own bandits, Cilderic and Guthred moved in to assist the dwarf and rohirrim - though Fundor managed to wound his adversary, Cilderic's axe finished the man off. Guthred, on the other hand, didnt have much success attacking the bandit, perhaps due to poor positioning.

The archers meanwhile continued to pepper the company in arrows, taking aim at Nori and Fundor, both arrows finding their marks. The men in odd tabards fought fiercely and viciously, taking every opplrtunity for a dirty trick they could find. Whatever they were, they were not amateurs. Was it loyalty, greed, or confidence that made them continue fighting, even with even numbers?

[Vladim]

The fighting is harsh for Fundor who isn't a warrior-bornt dwarf and his breath begins to be short. Still he puts all his fury on his blow, hoping to quickly knock out his opponent.

[Vladim]

The huntress pressed on, continuing to exchange blows and parries with Cenric. Rage had now given way to stubborn determination, and Idunn barely noticed the sword-blows inflicted upon her, one glancing off her armour and another causing a small cut. Had she the mind to think of anything other than the fight, she would have enjoyed seeing the murderer’s smirk vanish. Yet she knew that she was close to the edge now: her unrelenting aggression was accompanied by great openings in her defences, and a well-timed blow could easily knock her out.

Still, she thrust her axe violently forward, aiming for the killer’s chest one more time. Then, she cried to Berthoc’s men, who were still shocked by their kinsman’s murder. ’Viglundings! The day is ours! Fight now! Regain your honour!’

[Vladim]

Idunn's eagerness to bring down Cenrid proved to impact her attack, as it went off mark and the bandit's face lit with relief. Gramtyng's attempt to bring down his own opponent proved to be go even worse, making the bard stumble and nearly walk into the bandit's sword - fortunatly, Fundor was quick to see the difficulty the bard found himself in and dispatched the man with a quick sword attack. Cilderic, seeing the situation was more or less under control, proceeded to attack the archer in the back, though he missed due to the advantageous positioning the archer had using the short remnant of wall. Guthred, casting a hate-filled gaze at Cenric, jabbed his spear at the other archer, though he similarly had no luck. Nori's axe embedded itself deep in Gizik's chest, as the man's shield missed the block by inches. Throwing aside the spear and grasping hold of the axe head, with his last breath, Gizid dragged the dwarf forward and hissed out his last words, just as defiant and proud as he was when he first walked out of the gates: "Fools. Our cause is righteous... You've no knowledge of what..." He gave a cough, and was no more, collapsing forward. "Gizik?" Cenric paled and leapt backwards, tripping over Gizik's body as he went, trying to get to the gates he'd emerged from. Meanwhile, the archers, which threw aside their bows and were quite successful at hacking at Guthred and Cilderic with an almost feverish rage at the death of Gizik, have suddenly found themselves under attack! "Come, lads... We may not be the best at fighting, but we know how it is to live with a bow at our side to repel the Eagles and Orcs!" Shouted Bornhald, his face a mix of anger and grief, loosing an arrow at the nearest archer.

[Vladim]

Seeing the Viglundings join their side, Idunn took courage, for now she knew in her heart that the day was truly theirs. Nori’s felling blow against Gizik only confirmed this, but she had little time to heed the man’s dying words. Instead, she focused her attention on the coward in front of her, who was desperately trying to escape. Her hound was not far from him, and he growled and barked, revealing big, sharp teeth.

She raised her axe, preparing to end this, but at the same time many arrows whistled above her head. Instinctively, she ducked and in that moment some clarity returned to her. The bandit was no longer a threat; deciding his punishment should be left to Beorn. Now wary of all the arrows, she urged the defeated Cenric to surrender with a breathless, tired voice. ’Surrender. Beorn will see to your fate.’

[Vladim]

Nori scowls at Gizik as the mortally wounded man grabs ahold of the weapon and drags him closer. The furrow of his brow intensifies as his rage builds – not wanting to show the shock of the strength of the man as he makes his dying words known. The dwarf grits his teeth, allowing Gizik to speak, but saying nothing as he lets out his death rattle. As Gizik falls to the ground, Nori pushes on his axe handle to steer the man as he desires – away from him and onto his back. Huffing as he inspects his fallen foe, the dwarf slowly eases his grip on his axe and looks about to see the Viglunds joining in the attack as Cenric tries to flee.

The blood loss from Gizik’s earlier inflicted wound along with the impending sense of victory seems to give Nori reason to halt. Cenric does not appear able to get away from Idunn and her hound. Swaying slightly, the wounded dwarf drops on his hind-end, all of his weight immediately sinking into Gizik’s chest – using the man’s corpse as a sort of bench from his short, stout frame. The weight and force of his drop from a standing position causes a significant amount of pooled blood in Gizik’s mouth to spit up into the air like a morbid fountain and then splatter about them. Resting his left forearm on his knee, Nori idly reaches up to his right shoulder to manually investigate the massive wound he received from Gizik’s spear just seconds ago. His eyes, a bit unfocused as he tries to maintain his strength in this weakened state, attempt to stay trained on Idunn and her commands of Cenric.

[Vladim]

Fundor has difficulties to getting through his opponent's parade but he finally manages to repel the enemy's weapon with his sword and strike a mortal blow. The bandit collapse on the ground.
Then Fundor raises his head and quickly analyzes the situation of his companions: He sees that the archers are now on their side, and that Cenric is isolated and trying to escape. The Dwarf runs to block him and utters a cry of rage while carrying a blow that forces Cenric to drop one of his two weapons. "Loose your weapon, thief, if you care about your life".

[Vladim]

"Surrender?! To that frenzied madman?! Are you insane?!" Cenric shouted, trying to get up and crawl backwards at the same time, feeling around for his sword: "Why, I..."

"ENOUGH!" Snarled the bard, feeling the fey mood beginning to take him. In an effort to stave off the battle-madness, he shook his head and only then noted the state his companions were in - Nori clutching at a wound, Idunn's battered state - Fundor seemed well enough, so his gaze slid past him. Fury surged in the rohirrim's heart, and he charged forward, forgetting his oaths, his disgust, and his promises, raising his sword high above his head to bring down at the thief's head. "You bloody craven piece of filth!" Gramtyng laughed, the strange alterations of the Fey mood already beginning to take effect. Just as they did, another picture came into his mind - that of his own father, leading the charge against the Dunledings on horseback, his face contorted in a mask of merriment and fury, and his laugh stopped, taking another look at the figure sprawled out on the ground. His arm already mid-swing, there was no changing it; instead, the bard concentrated and slightly inclined the sword so that instead of the sword's blade cleaving the bandit's head, he would only be struck by the pommel. The pommel struck with a sickening crack and Cenric, who was attempting to say something, got a rather odd look on his face, his eyes crossing, and then rolling up into his head before collapsing backwards. At the back, Guthred and Cilderic had finished off the archers, who were desperate to avenge their commander. The bard sheathed his sword and replaced the shield at his back: "So what do we do with the bodies?"

[Vladim]

It was over as quickly as it had begun. Idunn looked at the fallen and made sure that no enemies remained hidden before checking herself. She was exhausted and badly bruised, but otherwise well, albeit shaken. Nothing that a good night of rest or two would not heal.

Nori, on the other hand, seemed to be bleeding.

Without answering the bard’s questions, the huntress approached the weary dwarf and offered to examine and treat his injuries. The sickle, the dead and their prisoner would have to wait-they were unlikely to go anywhere, after all. ’I was once taught how to treat wounds. I can dress them at the very least, if you would let me look at them.’ she said to her dwarven companion.

[Vladim]

Nori watches Gramtyng go after Cenric with interest. However, even when the Rhoirrim seems like he's about to remove the thief's head from his shoulders, there's no reaction from the dwarf - just mild anticipation. When Gramtyng - perhaps surprisingly - decides on a different course of action, the dwarf only snorts in amusement as Cenric is knocked out cold and the group is left to decide among themselves how to proceed. It's about this time that he notices the shadow of Idunn lingering over him, her interest on his nursed wound.

Seeing the woman's quiet indication towards his wound and her statement about being able to treat such injury, the dwarf wearily bobs his head in agreement to let her examine it. Gingerly, he removes his hand from over the wound and leaves it exposed. All the while, Nori seems to focus on his breathing and keeping himself awake - thinking about anything and everything other than the pain and blood loss. Maybe as a means to distract himself from whatever physical prying Idunn might have to do, he responds to Gramtyng's grimm question - looking between the fellow dwarf and Rohirrim as he speaks. "I'm not digging anything for them here on this hunk of rock," he states bluntly. "And they're not good enough for burning... I say leave them to the crows or if you're feeling sentimental..." His eyes drift towards the gate and bridge. "... there's probably enough river rock to cover them." Nori's eyes then return to the two. "But I'm not volunteering you for any work," he adds with a small smile and snort, joking about how little he'll probably be able to do and contribute now with the bad shoulder.

[Vladim]

At last Cenric is knocked down, the fight is over and Fundor can take a breath. He was hit twice but that was only bruises, nothing serious. On the contrary, his kin-fellow Nori seems to be more badly hurted. Idunn has started looking at his injury but Fundor reaches out a small flask of dwarf alcohol to Nori "Take a sip of this, Nori, it comes from the Lonely Mountain, it contains the strengh of our people."

Then Fundor looks at the dead bodies. "Thieves don't deserve our respect, let the vultures feed on their flesh. But now it's time to meet our objective and recover the sickle, i don't want to stay here any longer !" Fundor squats and start rummaging through Cenric's clothes.

[Vladim]

Idunn spoke little in response to the dwarves’ words: her attention was focused on Nori’s wound. The thug’s blade had bitten deep, and it took some effort to clean it and dress it as painlessly as she could. Luckily, the cut was clean, and no bones had broken, so treating it was straightforward enough.

She asked one of the Viglundings to bring some clean water from the river, and another to start a fire, while she retrieved herbs and bandages from her travel pack. Once the Viglundings had gotten the water boiling, she sank the bandages inside the small cauldron, and fished them out with a stick that lay nearby. She applied hot water and herbs from the banks of the Anduin on the wound, as she had been taught, and fastened the bandages tightly. All of this took almost an hour, but by the time it was over, the huntress was satisfied with the result, even if she was exhausted. She simply hoped that stitches would be unnecessary, for she had never stitched a wound on a dwarf-she had only done this with her hound, when the claws of the Werewolf almost killed him.

'If it opens during the journey back, you should have it stitched. I will do my best if we are on the road, and no other healers can help.'

[Vladim]

The bard gives Fundor a dark look: "Wouldnt leave anyone for the wolves. Even orcs deserve a pyre, though for different reasons. These men have hurt us, but they were someone's sons, fathers, brothers..." He shakes his head and goes to gather some firewood, dragging all the bodies into a pile, after seeing that Nori and Idunn seemed to be fine.

A quick search of the camp would locate the sickle, wrapped in a oily cloth for protection, stashed nearby the campfire where Cenric and Gizik had come from. The Viglundings assisted Idunn in gathering water and starting a fire, offering their help in bandaging as well.

[Vladim]

Fundor looks calmly at the Horse-Man, without any ire in his eyes : "Temper your anger, Gramtyng. You asked us our opinion about those thieves and I gave mine, please respect it even if you don't share it. As for me, I respect your decision. "

Then Fundor goes to the camp fire and starts cooking. "After that forced march and that fight, we must regain strength for the travel back. I'm sorry, friends, I cannot say that i'll prepare you a tasty dish but it will be reconstituting for sure !"