Post by Lethenir Vanether on Jan 1, 2010 1:03:02 GMT -6
He wasn't sure what, but something made the pain he felt in his upper arm and shoulder disappear. He could barely think. The guard that had just fallen in front of him grunted in pain as he got to his feet and, through blurred vision, stared Lethenir down. On top of that Lethenir could hear footsteps behind him. They were still faint, probably echoing up from the underground storage, but they were approaching fast. The two that had went for firewood must have heard the commotion above and now they were rushing to see what was the matter. This was bad.
Lethenir felt it. That feeling of death looming over him like a buzzard waiting to scavenge what would be left after the fight. This was fear unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He felt utterly and completely alone. He was frozen with fear. As his partially blinded attacker readied his lance for an attack Lethenir could do nothing but quiver with fear.
Post by Lethenir Vanether on Jan 1, 2010 1:13:53 GMT -6
He hadn't even noticed, but Lethenir was standing in a pool of blood left by the first guard he'd stabbed. He heard shouting from behind. He knew that one of the others must have just made it up from the storage room. No doubt that one would draw his weapon and attack, too. Footsteps approaching from directly behind at full speed.
Move.....Please, move......Move!......MOVE! Lethenir stabbed his already wounded arm in an attempt to snap himself back to reality. "Aaagghhh!" he shouted as he dove to his right. He slid in the cold snow and his own life force stained that same snow dark red. His right arm now had two wounds and there were still three guards to deal with....or so he thought.
His bold and desperate move had caused a horrible chain of events to conspire....horrible for the guardsmen at least. The lanceman that charged from behind had been impaled on his nearly blind friend's lance. When Lethenir screamed and moved, the disgruntled guard in front of him anxiously lunged with his lance, colliding with the one who was rushing Lethenir from behind. No doubt that unfortunate soul would pass on from the world of the living soon as well.
Lethenir looked down at his arm and then at the three guards in front of him. The footsteps of the fourth guard let Lethenir know that the battle from here on out would be far more difficult. One of the guards might be partially blinded, but much of that would surely have worn off by now, and he this fresh guard would make this a steep uphill fight. With fear, desperation, and pain shown clearly on his face, Lethenir held up his slim sword and prepared for the worst.
Post by Lethenir Vanether on Jan 1, 2010 2:53:24 GMT -6
"Boy, you're gonna regret this big time. Hey, Ron, you're in no condition to fight. Get inside and tell the duke what's happened. I'll take care of this runt," The last guard told his ally as he stepped forward, pulling his sword from its sheath. Ron, as he was called by his fellow guard, nodded and began stumbling through doors and into the castle to alert the duke to what had transpired.
Lethenir gazed around, moving only his eyes, in an attempt to find something that would help him get an edge...something to help him win the fight or make a hasty escape. The feeling in the pit of his stomach kept getting heavier as he saw nothing to aid him. Wait....there was something...and it was all around. The snow....what was the snow but cold, wet, white 'dirt' to be kicked up as a distraction and an evasive tactic.
The swordsman stepped forward swiftly and pulled his sword arm back, preparing to attack. Lethenir swung one foot around, dragging it through the snow, and then quickly leaping back with his other leg. The snow flew up and some managed to land on his attacker. The attack had missed and the guard was now open for an attack.
Lethenir arced his sword down, aiming to disable the sword arm of his opponent. This one seemed a bit more skilled than the other two. When he saw that his arm was in danger he allowed the momentum of his swing to continue until his shoulder armor was able to block the attack. Time was short and this fight was going to be difficult. Not a good combination for Lethenir, who was wounded twice in the same arm.
Post by Lethenir Vanether on Jan 2, 2010 0:23:00 GMT -6
Lethenir's hand shook as he jerked his blade back and tried to recover from the recoil of striking his opponent's armor. Before Lethenir had time to make another move the guard had lunged forward and swung down at him with both hands. Lethenir was only able to prevent his demise by bringing his own blade up to defend. He wasn't strong enough, though. Especially not with one hand against two. He dropped to one knee in the snow, struggling to keep his foe's sword from cleaving him down the middle.
Then his opponent made a foolish mistake. Thinking he had the battle won, which he did appear to, he had put his full body weight down on the sword. Lethenir reacted as quickly as he could. He moved to his left while pushing off to his right, causing his attacker to fall face first into the snow and stab his blade into the ground diagonally.
It's true that this opponent was a step above the other guards he'd fought so far, but when he fell he'd hit his chest with the handle of his sword as it stabbed into the ground, knocking the breath from him. As he lay on the ground gasping for breath, Lethenir's final attack struck true. His blade slid across the guard's throat as he rolled over on his back.
Now to make an escape. Frantically the young lithe looked for some way to make it past the front gate. He had to hurry. Reinforcements would be here soon, without a doubt.
Post by Lethenir Vanether on Jan 2, 2010 0:33:57 GMT -6
Just then he spotted it. His way out. It was the rope that acted as a pulley by using the wooden crank at the bottom of the gate to pull the gate up and let visitors in. He'd climb his golden rope of life and then make his way from there. He sprinted to the rope and clinged to it, slowly pulling himself up with one arm.
He sprawled out atop the stone wall that surrounded the courtyard once he made it to the top of the rope. He leaned over the edge and looked down. It wasn't as tall as the castle itself. Probably only a ten or fifteen foot drop. Still, that was too far to fall in his current situation. He couldn't afford to injure his legs.
He looked right and then left. Aha...there was a steep bank with good snow cover on the left side of the wall. It wasn't as far to fall from the top of the wall to the ground there, either. It was his only hope. He moved to the edge and then.....he jumped.
Post by Lethenir Vanether on Jan 2, 2010 0:50:22 GMT -6
He hit the snow on his back, hard, but he was sliding down the steep incline the moment he hit so the damage wasn't as severe. He'd likely be sore for a day or two and there would definitely be bruising. He winced all the way down from the pain. When he hit the bottom and rolled he ended in a face plant in the snow himself. Although he knew he couldn't just stop here, he couldn't help but shed tears. Not only had he just abandoned innocent people to a terrible fate, he'd murdered two men, caused the death of a third, and wounded another.
He stood, still crying, and pulled the vulnerary pouch from his side. He opened it and lifted it to his right shoulder with his left hand, which proved to be a tad difficult. He poured the solution on his shoulder wound and the stab he'd inflicted on himself in his arm. The magical medicine still stung a lot, but it offered much greater relief when the stinging had passed. It didn't stave off the feeling of losing so much blood, though, or the fact that he was now wet and cold. He tried to make the best use of his tattered cloak as he could and he took off as quickly as he could, following the road he could see through the trees.