Post by RaditzSoldier on Sept 1, 2005 22:42:17 GMT -5
Characters: Forden Cath, Mithbred, Jard Nagilli
Timeframe: Escaping Osgiliath after it's taken in the Siege of Gondor.
Genre: Short Story
Summary: The short tale of a man fleeing from Osgiliath to Minas Tirith.
Notes: Forden Cath is the main character telling the story.
The orcs overwhelmed our defences. They charged through our barracades, and the men fell like the sheep to a wolf. An archer was surprised by an orc and had his throat slit, and he fell dead. This in it's own horror is enough to drive one from their defence, but we could not contain such a treachery to the King. Or did we have a king anymore? Had our Steward gone mad, sending his son to a death worse than he would take? Did he care for his own son, and how much then did he like us? We fought for a hopeless cause.
A bell. The bell of retreat. Faramir had called us back. My cousin Jard pulled me around.
"Do you have a horse?" He asked.
"Aye, I do." I replied.
"Then take it and let's bloody get out of here!" He yelled, before jumping to his horse and mounting it. I soon followed on my horse. We could see a white dot on the horizon, our safety. Arrows hailed, and horses gave under men for a plunge to be trampled, or men died their own. A soldier in front of me lost his horse as the two came crashing to the ground. "Jump Mithbred, jump!" I ordered in a hoarse voice, as I had been yelling. The horse jumped, but he lost stability. He almost fell, and I cried out. Suddenly he found strength from somewhere, and sprinted once more. The arrows suddenly stopped. "Are we out of range?" I yelled to my cousin.
He turned to me, and shook his head. "No, but I have a bad feeling of this!"
I could do no more than agree. And to good wisdom too. Not as soon as he had finished his advisory as screeches from behind us came. "NAZGUL!" A man yelled. My heart skipped a beat, but I was getting used to that by now. Then they came. They swept down and pulled men and dropped them to a scraming death, often falling on others. Jard told me to run get my horse to inhumain speeds, or I would end dead; I could not more agree with him. Suddenly I was terrified to notice that a Nazgul screech game from behind us. It pulled up an unfortunate soul, and may he be blessed for his pain, he fell to the ground. The Nazgul was now infront of us. It came low to the ground and started running into horses causing them to make a sick ball of death, and he was coming our way. "Get outta the way!!" Jard ordered. I did so. I turned my horse abruptly to the side.
I fell. Holding onto the reins, I made the horse come crashing down. It was dead. I looked scared as an orc pursuer came straight for me. As he almost brought his blade down, he was crushed by a horse. It was Jard. He pulled me onto his horse. Putting me in front, he began to drive the horse the last ways to our home. Suddenly Gandalf came riding out, scaring the Nazgul. One was run towards us, and we tried to escape. No effect. It came right to our horse, and picked up Jard. I cried out to him, but no dare look back as I knew what would happen. He would plunge to the floor and join the dead. "I have failed you, my kin." I said of respect.
The last hundred feet were easy, as Gandalf kept the Nazgul far away. I ran straight through the gates and dismounted in the stable. I got off and walked out. I stared at the now-closed gates. "No, I can't see from there." I thought aloud. I climbed the stairs to the walls and looked in horror at what was left behind. Soldiers, horses, friends, family, and officers were left scattered all over dead. I looked for Jard, but there was no trace. He was dead now, and I was sure by the end of this, I would be too.
THE END
~RaditzSoldier
Timeframe: Escaping Osgiliath after it's taken in the Siege of Gondor.
Genre: Short Story
Summary: The short tale of a man fleeing from Osgiliath to Minas Tirith.
Notes: Forden Cath is the main character telling the story.
The orcs overwhelmed our defences. They charged through our barracades, and the men fell like the sheep to a wolf. An archer was surprised by an orc and had his throat slit, and he fell dead. This in it's own horror is enough to drive one from their defence, but we could not contain such a treachery to the King. Or did we have a king anymore? Had our Steward gone mad, sending his son to a death worse than he would take? Did he care for his own son, and how much then did he like us? We fought for a hopeless cause.
A bell. The bell of retreat. Faramir had called us back. My cousin Jard pulled me around.
"Do you have a horse?" He asked.
"Aye, I do." I replied.
"Then take it and let's bloody get out of here!" He yelled, before jumping to his horse and mounting it. I soon followed on my horse. We could see a white dot on the horizon, our safety. Arrows hailed, and horses gave under men for a plunge to be trampled, or men died their own. A soldier in front of me lost his horse as the two came crashing to the ground. "Jump Mithbred, jump!" I ordered in a hoarse voice, as I had been yelling. The horse jumped, but he lost stability. He almost fell, and I cried out. Suddenly he found strength from somewhere, and sprinted once more. The arrows suddenly stopped. "Are we out of range?" I yelled to my cousin.
He turned to me, and shook his head. "No, but I have a bad feeling of this!"
I could do no more than agree. And to good wisdom too. Not as soon as he had finished his advisory as screeches from behind us came. "NAZGUL!" A man yelled. My heart skipped a beat, but I was getting used to that by now. Then they came. They swept down and pulled men and dropped them to a scraming death, often falling on others. Jard told me to run get my horse to inhumain speeds, or I would end dead; I could not more agree with him. Suddenly I was terrified to notice that a Nazgul screech game from behind us. It pulled up an unfortunate soul, and may he be blessed for his pain, he fell to the ground. The Nazgul was now infront of us. It came low to the ground and started running into horses causing them to make a sick ball of death, and he was coming our way. "Get outta the way!!" Jard ordered. I did so. I turned my horse abruptly to the side.
I fell. Holding onto the reins, I made the horse come crashing down. It was dead. I looked scared as an orc pursuer came straight for me. As he almost brought his blade down, he was crushed by a horse. It was Jard. He pulled me onto his horse. Putting me in front, he began to drive the horse the last ways to our home. Suddenly Gandalf came riding out, scaring the Nazgul. One was run towards us, and we tried to escape. No effect. It came right to our horse, and picked up Jard. I cried out to him, but no dare look back as I knew what would happen. He would plunge to the floor and join the dead. "I have failed you, my kin." I said of respect.
The last hundred feet were easy, as Gandalf kept the Nazgul far away. I ran straight through the gates and dismounted in the stable. I got off and walked out. I stared at the now-closed gates. "No, I can't see from there." I thought aloud. I climbed the stairs to the walls and looked in horror at what was left behind. Soldiers, horses, friends, family, and officers were left scattered all over dead. I looked for Jard, but there was no trace. He was dead now, and I was sure by the end of this, I would be too.
THE END
~RaditzSoldier
