The Siege - Into the Fire [Final]

"Dwarves, young and old! Warriors and craft dwarrow! Kin and company! Let us hold our heads high with bears tucked under our belts and steel on our backs! Today is the day we shall drive the final stake into our enemies grave. Today is the day the bards and word weavers will craft tales of our deeds! Today is the day when every foul foe will know the name Durin's Folk. Raise your axes, hammers, swords and bows! To the enemy! SIGIN TARAG!" Thogen shouted, the doors of Sarnur already breached and a wall of Dourhands waited to meet him.

The Hall was dim, it was deep within the mountain and nothing more then the dull light of distant torches lite the area and the air felt stale but this was not uncommon to Thogens people. The company around him held weapons with white knuckles, there breaths were short and feet stirred in position, they were out numbered three to one but it was odds like this the war was made of. Glancing from right to left Thogen seen his line was sturdy, shields held like locking scales and long chopping axes and crushing hammers weighted behind them. "On my order khazad .. this will be a true test of fate. Let it be known to those who doubt that Mahal has blessed us, he now watches his children and waits for those to join him. Fight hard .." he spoke with a loud and clear voice. The shifting feet of Durin's Folk stood still, hands gripped around hilts and handles tightened and teeth started to grind. The unit trusted one another, those who fight beside each other knew that ever single life was worth giving up their own. "Charge!" Thogen roared and the dwarves of blue went to meet the enemy.

The hall rang with shouts and cries of Dourhand insults. The noise was deafening and sounded like water crashing against stone and all was directed to Durin's Folk. A armoured wall of beards and bodies had taken hold of the inner chamber of Sarnur, the keep. Once the orders were given the two opposing forces went to meet one another, Durins folk creating a wedge like formation to split open the Dourhand shield wall. It was a risky move .. placing your strongest warriors at point to break open a large enough gap for the other soldiers to get inside and break a wall apart but the payout would always be well worth it. "Sabaj! Archers! Loose a volley!" Thogen ordered keeping his head buried behind his shield, axes, spears and other projectiles already started to beat off it. The archers wasted no time, well protected behind rows of shields and arrow found gaps and knocked arrows before letting bow strings crack and launching forward deadly missiles. Dourhand troops gave out cries of pain as some of the front ranks twisted and curled as soon as arrows lodged themselves into skin. "Sigin Tarag!" Duinn shouted, the mighty Uzbad, lord of his folk howled switching from bow to sword as they drew near. Byl was wide eyed, the enemy nearly backed away seeing his battle lust taking over and he called out to each dwarf we wished to kill. The banners of Durin's Folk were held high, the bright blue glowing. 
It was in that moment were the two forces met, noise that could be described as one thousand hammers beating anvils. Weapons struck armour, bodies ran into one another and voices muted for a split second upon impact. Thogen and Durin's Folk drove a line straight into the whole the archers gave them, Hosgrim pushed back three dwarves with his long hammer while Thorlaen nearly broke another in two with a devastating hit. Insults became groans and cries for help as Durin's Folk drove a path and continued to charge deeper and deeper into the enemy ranks. The longbeards were winning the start of the battle.

Time felt like ages but only a few short minutes had past, a trail of wounded or dead was in the wake of the Warlords company, the chats and war tunes sang by Kveltrild, Balyndis and Gloriesk gave life to the warriors around them. Each words the sang, cheer the shouted and beat they played turned into a dance that axes were brought down too. Ducked under a shield a single Dourhand broke the charging force and raised a club towards the lady folk but made a poor choice in doing so. Kveltrild cast a rune towards the traitor and in that distraction Balyndis with her sword hack a deep wound into his wrinkled face. Gloriesk winced but continued to stay near everyone for protection. The keep was long as it was wide, a tall ceiling gave every noise a much louder echo and one hundred dwarves now sounded like one hundred thousand! As the attacking unit made way towards the middle the found themselves thinning out their foes, battle took there thoughts and made them short sighted, enemy after enemy they brought them down cheers and shouts came loud. A large dwarf charged towards the longbeards, his deep voice roared at them. "I am Glúmir! I will bring your heads to my lord!" he had a large axes wielded with both armoured knuckled hands raised in the air. His might came down on a defenseless Dhordur who was bound in combat with another until two swords parried the attack. Khlosi walked past the dwarves in his company and danced from side to side taunting an attack.  "Ah, so you wish to die first longbeard .. very well .. die!" Glúmir shouted giving another powerful wave of his axe but cold steel met no target as the nimble Khlosi ducked and and slashed his own blades across the back of Glúmir leg. The champion of Sarnur cried and gave a quick back fist across Khlosi cheek. The battle still was hard fought but many warriors of both sides of the battle found themselves in a circle around the two champion warriors. "You got lucky longbeard. That will not happen again!" Glúmir cried before charging with a broad shoulder towards the master scout. Khlsoi jumped to the side before taking another leap into the air and driving a single blade down the back of the neck and into the chest of the Dourhand warrior. Glúmir took three short steps before his body fell lip to the ground. The leader of Duruin's Folks scouts spoke in a proud voice "Never luck, skill." he said before joining his brother in combat. 

Dwarves began to tire, and so it happens in a long battle with constant fighting, there is no time to catch breath or tend a wound but if you stopped you had a chance to join the fallen. Duinn had been fighting hard, his weapon often moving to protect his wife, Kveltrild. She continued to call out to the warriors offering them words of motivation, blessings of their creator. "We cannot lose! Mahal wills it! Fight!" she shouted, she even took up  banner and waved it from side to side. Dourhands started to form around the longbeards and pushed them into a tight circle. "We are surrounded!" Duinn yelled, his white beard was stained with crimson blood.  Thogen knew they were in a tight spot, fire pots from goblin runts were being cast on the battle field taking both Dourhands and Durin's Folk into the flames. "To the Uzbad! Form a protective circle!" Thogen ordered and so they all fought back to back. Byl had taken up his spear and drove the point into foe after foe, thrusting then pulling, thrusting then pulling. His laughter was a sick sound and it made the enemies fear and that is what he wanted. 
"Azaghalbad! We are being burned alive! We must do something!" Thorlaen shouted, stopping his feet over a fire that was cooking him under plate armour. Thogens hammer beat across Dourhand heads and dented chest plates and broke shields. His mind was thinking hard of something that would save his people, his eyes seen more and more of his comrades taking wounds, even himself taking a spear under his chest piece drawing a painful wound. "Aye! I know .. just .. keep fighting! When the time comes we fight! We fight until our last breath! Today is not the day we die!" Thogen roared with his commanding voice. His eyes did what they could to watch over the lady folk, a long shafted spear thrust past some shields and went towards Gloriesk but he wound not have that. With a twist of his body he turned and brought his hammer down onto the weapon splitting it in two before turning the the attacker and driving the crows beak of his weapon into the enemies face. With a huffed breath he sighed and nodded to Gloriesk. All attention turned as a deep and loud voice called over the battle, a voice that taunted them, a voice they wanted to mute. A voice of the enemy leader.

The deep tone of the voice echoed even louder then the sound of battle, the words clear and spoke with such hate. "Uzbad Duinn! It seems this is the place you wish to die! I hoped that when we laid waste to Thorin's Hall that I could kill you in front of Dwalin for all the trouble you have given me!" 
Duinn stood tall, his bodied mustering its energy to answer the voice with words of its own. "Then you are as foolish as the evil you serve! We have come to bring a culling to the evil of this place! It is you who shall die here Dourhand! Show yourself so that I may end you now!" the Uzbad cut down another enemy in his path. The armoured unit of Durin's Folk had started to making way towards the voice.
"Do not be so stupid Duinn! We have you beat! I'm going to cut your beard off and making you eat it before I kill you. Thorin's Hall will be my throne! Mine! I will kill all those who spoke ill of Dourhands. Your wives, your children .. all of them!"
Duinn wrinkled his nose, his dwarves clearly angered with what was said now fought as if they had all the energy in the word. Bodies spun from the air as powerful strikes brought down more and more foes. Dourhands panicked as the seemingly unstoppable force drew near the commander and leader of their people. "Bold words for a dwarrow who is such a coward that he will not even show himself! Stand before me and we will let weapons settle this matter!" Duinn ordered. His blade was dripping with blood.  
"So be it .. " the voice answered and then atop the stairway a dwarf started to descend.

The dwarf was of highborn ranking it may have seemed, his armour was something that could have matched Duinn's or any other lords. His beard grew short and a bright red, his body was thick and fat and short. " I am Druurgar! Lord of Sarnur and servant of Angmar! Killing you will please my masters .." he spoke, not as loud now as he drew near. The lines formed once again, at the bottom of the stairway Druurgars bodyguards made a shield wall and so did Durin's Folk. Thogen huffed and puffed but still ordered his troops around into formation. "This ends now Dourhand! Your crimes against these lands are only met with death!" Duinn ordered. 
Druurgar growled and then waved his hand forward. "Then come and kill me! Bring me that bastards head!" he shouted and then the heavy units of the Dourhands ran towards the longbeards. This was a true fight, both sides of the smaller battle were thick in armour and wielding well crafted weapons. Each and every solider knew this was no battle to take lightly. Thorlaen took a hit to the chest before knocking his foe down and slamming his mighty hammer into his foes breastplate. Hosgrim held two dwarves back while Khlosi fired an arrow into ones eye. The three woman folk brought down bodyguards with swarming attacks. 
Duinn just marched forward, every longbeard knew he must survive this so they cleared his path. Thogen hooked a dourhand behind the knee tripping him before driving his shield into the bridge of his enemies nose. Byl cut down three guards inches before Duinn walked by. Druurgar started to back step, his voice was once bold but now it became stuttered and muffled. "W-wait .. We can work something out .." he tried to plea, The Dourhands feet tried to carry himself back up the steps but often found himself tripping. "No .." Duinn growled, his sword held low was calling out grinding along the carved stone. 
"Mercy lord .. Mercy please .. We were wrong!" Druurgar tried to make reason once again. 
"Would you have sown mercy to those who asked for it in my home, would you have shown mercy to all of Thorin's Hall when you planned to sack it? No! Mahal as my witness you shall pay for your crimes!" he shouted before raising his blade and wrapping both hands on the hilt and driving it down into Druurgars chest. The Dourhand mewed for a second but then fell limp.

Those who could run ran. Those who couldn't tried to hide but in all the Dourhands, goblins and others who pledged in the destruction of Thorin's Hall were broken and routed. Beaten and bloody the proud and noble warriors of Durin's Folk stepped back into the sunlight of Ered-Luin. Outside a legion of armoured units from Gondamon charged forward to end what was left inside. The great battle of the lands of Dwarves had ended, the war that had taken a year was now coming to its final days. The war was one. Victory for the Longbeards. 

Sigin Tarag.

[i]
I would like to thank each and everyone of you who took place in any of the Siege events I set up. It was something that I tried to offer you all and it brought me great pleasure in hosting. I could not be more proud of the stories you had all given me with your outstanding roleplaying and sharing your characters with me.

Thank you. [/i]