(Ok, we need to get this up to speed.... sorry for my near week long absence, but I'm still not in the best shape.... I shall, however, do my best in this post to bring everyone up to point... and YES there will be power playing on my part, but it is a MUST, though I do beg for your forgiveness ahead of time....)

Sometime during the late evening hours, while preparations were continuing for the early morning attack on Helm's Deep, a horse was discovered on the outskirts of camp, his master precariously dangling and being dragged by the left stirrup. It was with haste that the Rohirrim brought him to Arinae, though he remained unconscious through the whole ordeal, an arrow deeply imbedded in his abdomen.

It was debatable whether or not the stranger was friend or foe, but after a moment of discussion, and a few minutes of consulting with the Gondorian captain as well, it was decided that they were to keep the newcomer in a separate, well guarded tent, as precaution until he was tended to and recovered.

The silence of waiting for the morning light caused nearly immeasurable stress among many of the men. Many believed it would be their last dawn, a sad state of mind to be in, but such thoughts were inevitable in times as those. Arinae spent the remaining night hours staring towards the dim torches upon the Deeping Wall, their glow fuelling anger more than light to her mind.

A restless night it seemed, within the confines of the healer's tent, as tension rose while the minutes crept by, proving to be sleepless hours for both the Elf and Ranger, each to remain by the other's side, to await the tale of the battle to return to them at the ending. The time continued to draw near...

As instructed by Arinae, Jax kept watch of the course of the stars, as their position would inform them when to move, before Twilight began, so they would gain as much cover of dark as would be possible without having to fight with the lack of light.

It had been decided beforehand, that the distraction for their attack would be arrows wrapped in cloth, cloth which had been used by the healers, the oils being highly flammable on most occasion. These would be lit on fire and released by the most skilled archers over the farthest end of the wall from the breech, as well as the main wall of the postern, where at least the clothes of orc and man alike would catch fire. It was a very unlikely distraction, but it would have to work for then, and if it didn’t, then the disaster would be on the hands of the leaders for them to work out.

Finally the signal was given by Jax when the stars had run their course and struck the position before Twilight. Things went into motion, fires had long since been doused, and now horse, helmet, and weapon were gathered and the archers were the first to move forward, flint and unlit torch in hand of the designated leader.

(Righto… nice and long, and I hope you don’t mind the minor bits of power playing… and so the battle starts…. But I’m rather dizzy after all that, lol, and I don’t think I can go through another for a while, so I’m handing the reins of the battle over to Aemornion for a while until I can handle things later on, if he doesn’t mind that is…. Take care kids, I’ll post a few short ones perhaps concerning Arinae and minor things…Later)

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Jax made his way down with the main group, still goin g over battle moves in his mind to prepair himself mentaly for the upcomming fight.

He walked along beside, silently as the subtle sound of footsteps broke the dead silence in the night.

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Hardly anyone slept throughout the night, the pressure of silence before the breakout of the storm was unbearable but imminent. The final signal was to be announced and in carefully planned steps each battalion and each division of both Rohirrim and the Gondorians were to set their strikes precisely.

Aemornion strode out of the tent where the Easterling was held captive. His wounds had been mended but he still had not came to his senses. Two guards had been left watch by his side and all his weaponry was removed and stowed away into a safe tent only a few men know of.

"So it begins..." he murmured to himself while he raised his gaze towards the Deeping Wall right after Jax had given the signal for the onset. Aemornion's face became steel hard for he knew blood would be spilled once again. With a silent clang he sheathed his sword into the scabbard and set on his helmet.

He alone took the command over the first party that would break through the breach. He had always been on the first line, and had seen many men perish in that first wave of the attack and some day it may cost him his own life. But he had no time to think about those things, battle awaited and victory must prevail swiftly.

Dagonet and Ingold, both sturdy men from Blackroot Vale took over the diversion assignment. Their archery skills had been proven many times but now under the heavy pressure of stress, strain and the cover of the night they must prove themselfs once again for the task was heavy and crucial in the entire planned warfare.

The archers were in place and row upon row they stood silent and awaited for Aemornion's signal to lite the torches and start to shower their enemy with flaming arrows.

Aemornion and the majority of the men came to the breach silently, night proved to be a good cover once again but for how long, the question remained hanging in the air.

The enemy was mostly asleep, only the orcs remained active, but here and there a quarrel could be heard between the wild men and the orcs for the Dundelings desired some rest, but they had no peace because of the sneering and silent cursing from the wreched orcs.

Aemornion glanced towards one of his men and with a nod towards him he let hell loose upon all. The man nodded in reply and swiftly he knocked a blunt whistler arrow and sent it loose towards the archers prepared.

At once the torches had been lit, a few dozen of them. Swiftly the archers who held still the rag wrapped arrows in basins filled with oil raised them to the burning torches and at once they caught fire.

Arrows had been set loose and they caught their peek burning half way through the flight towards the target. The sight was splendid for the arrows left a dripping oil trail that took fire at once and from the distance it looked as though long spears and burning ropes had been cast towards the enemy. Faint blue flame became amber and afterwards it mixed into gold.

Just as the first arrows had struck the wall with almost an exploding magnitude, the enemy stirred and cries and yells broke out. Many from the enemy hands rushed to the wall but it had proven unwise, for the burning arrows flew right by them and many of the wild men and orcs caught fire. Those burning and screaming ran throughout the enemy ranks and they also caught fire. Not much could they do but to back off and set their arrows loose towards the Rochirrim and Gondorian allies.

Luck had proven to be on the proper side and the enemy arrows did not manage to reach the friendly archers for as the dawn roused itself a brisk wind raised across the fields and it blew towards the Deeping Wall from the northeast. Enemy arrows strayed in the air while those fired from the Rochirrim or the Gondorian were swift and had much longer range.

Just as the commotion started and the diversion became active, Aemornion and his men had begun swiftly to unseal the breach leaving only a few old planks as props on the inside fooling the enemy as they thought nobody was there. Light appeared on the East and soon the gloomy hearts of the men had been slightly lifted for the long darkness had waned and the day roused itself.

Aemornion glanced at the men beside him and behind him. He beheld noble and stout faces but he also saw slight fear in their eyes, the same fear that floated in his eyes alike. He unsheathed his sword and turned towards them

"Neither give up nor give in my fellow comrades, my brothers. Show no mercy to the enemy for we recieve none. Let us get rid of this evil once and for all times! The Battle awaits us, lets not keep it waiting for I wish to sing the songs as soon as possible on our field of victory!" his voice roused them and soon the men were in an uproar ready to follow the captain to whatever doom he would lead them into. They trusted him for he was the first one to enter the lions den.

With a heavy kick against the planks, the breach was opened and with crying yells Aemornion and the soldiers stormed in. The fighting started.

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I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the Warrior for his glory. I love the homeland which they defend.

((Sorry you aren't feeling well, Silmarwen. Hope you feel better soon.))

Tindomerel's eyes were still flickering as she watched Rhayader. Once or twice, resently, she had nearly fallen asleep. Yet she remained awake, yawning slightly. She started slumping over. She jolted back up, startled. She shook her head. She had to stay awake and make sure that Rhayader was...alright.
Even her thoughts seemed to slow down. She wanted to sleep, but she didn't want to stop watching Rhayader for a single moment. She wanted to make sure that if his condition got worse, she would be able to tell before it could get out of hand.
Her eyes continued to flickered, closing several times, but quickly snapping back open.
She didn't...want to...fall...asleep...
She started falling asleep, her eyes closing as she leaned against Rhayader. If she couldn't fight, she might as well sleep...Rhayader would...be...fine...

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The Ever So Confused One

Sig ll Moi

Khamdul woke up, coughing. He had no idea how long he was out of it. He tried to get up from his bed. He then realized that his armor and his weapons have been removed. He groaned. If it wasn't for the fact that he was in a tent and on a bed, he would have thought it was bandits. The sounds of battle could be heard outside. Dazedly he tried to get off the bed when a guard held a sword near his throat. Another had a spear near his torso. The first guard said, "I'm sorry, but we have orders that you can not leave. We are in middle of the battle and the highest command does not deem it wise to let a stranger roaming in camp." "Battle?" Khamdul asked. "Yes," the guard answered. "We're trying to take back Helm's Deep from the Wild Men and Orcs." "Wild Men?" Khamdul questioned. Just the word of it made Khamdul angry. He realized that he wanted his scimitar more than ever. "Yes," the guard said patiently as he and his friend relaxed his guard. "Now I come and think about it, you don't look like one of them. But you don't look like someone from Gondor."

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I was cured all right.

Jax raced in with the attacking forces, his consentration blockng out all else besides the adviseries infront of him. Like a tunnel of blackness they poured out at him, his reflexes keeping him alive as he blocked, dodged and attacked.

Jax ducked beneith a spear and came up to stab the orc. Grabing the spear he stabbed another as he pulled his sword out to block an attack. He kicked the man's hand and came back with a hard slice against his throat.

The cries of battle and the sound of evil faded softly into the background as the fight went on. Agile movements as a dance to the song of death that permiated the thick air.

Black and red blood alike covered Jax and most around, the faces of the fallen stairing up from the ground as lost souls in a world of blackness.

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"I am an Easterling," Khamdul said. "Now please, let me fight the Wild Men." A flame was burning in Khamdul's cold eyes. "I want to repay your and your leader's kindness." The guard looked at his friend and shrugged. "Ok, you can go and fight, but we will be watching you and any sign of treachery, I will order a battalion of archers to stick arrows like a pincushion." "Fair enough," Khamdul said. He was very eager to join the fight. "But I need my sword and my armor." The guards sighed and went away. After a minute, they returned with his armor and sword. "You must realize," the guard said as Khamdul put his armor on. "You will have to answer to Arinae and Aemornion after the battle." "I won't run off after the battle if that's what you mean," Khamdul said, placing his helmet on. After that he set off. He found Bedian at another tent. He seemed to be fine, so Khamdul led him out of the tent. He mounted him and together, they went to the battle. The battle was waging on when they arrived. Dismounting Bedian, he went for the breach in the wall, assuming that how they went in. As soon as he came out from the breach, a Wild Man swung his axe at him, narrowly taking his head off. He thrusted his sword into him. Another charged at him. He blocked his attack with his shield and beheaded his enemy. Invigorated, he went for the next enemy.

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I was cured all right.

The first flash of sunlight had appeared on the eastern horizon. The peaks of the White mountains had become alit with the golden morning sun as the battle waged onwards down below.

Aemornion and all of the men, both Rochirrim and Gondorian alike fought with vigilance and splendour against the enemy. Enemy had been struck fierecly and the diversion plan paid off to a certain extent.

The archers that had been firing the flaming arrows rallyed to the breach and bows and arrows had been replaced with swords. They joined the face to face battle and pushed the enemy further in.

The fighting continued fierecly and shields have been broken and swords notched with ease on both sides.

Aemornion's gaze went from enemy to enemy as they swarmed around him. His sword sung through the air as it found numerous targets and necks and cleaved down the enemy with rage. His armor was drentched in dark blood of the orcs but also in crimson from the blood of the wild men and some of his comrades that fell beside him. Rage and anger floated in his eyes and across his face. For each loss and he would avenge himself quickly but still his mind gave him sense what he can and must not do in the climax of the battle. His gaze then strayed towards the Hornburg. They fought half-way towards it.

"To the burg! To the burg!" he yelled out to the men around him. He knew that they must set free the trapped men there for a fair omount of them was trapped inside the keep and each man capable of wielding a sword was highly welcome.

Swiftly they hacked their way through to the doorway and at once the door was unbarred and stout Rochirrim soldiers rushed out yelling wielding swords and spears. The enemy was dismayed at start for they had no idea how many were inside the keep but they continued to fight on hard. Casualties had been counted on both sides.

With a corner of his eye Aemornion percieved a man that was clad in Easterling garbs and armor. It was the man who was injured and held in the tent. His teeth ground for he thought that he managed to escape and perhaps kill some of the Gondorian soldiers but soon Aemornion noticed that the man was fighting against the enemy, not against the ally troops. Slight puzzlement crossed his mind but he shoved it off at once for he needed a clear head in the middle of battle.

The yelling and the clashing of steel was pounding troughout the deep. Aemornion noticed Jax fighting bravely and almost in a world of his own. Othar and Ingold had managed to take a good half of the deeping wall as the enemy was flung down from it.

The sun was riding high and it was only a matter of time before it would have reached the walls of the Deep itself.

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I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the Warrior for his glory. I love the homeland which they defend.

Khamdul saw a Gondorian captain and groaned. He thought the captain would hold some prejudice against him because of what his kinsmen did in the last age. He tried to block an orc's club with his sword but the club sent his sword flying. He drew a dagger and pierced his chest with it. He was still alive so he stabbed him again with it. He regretted that he didn't apply poison on the daggers before he went to battle. He threw the dagger at a Wild Man's neck. He took it out of his body and retrieved his sword.

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I was cured all right.

Jax dodged another attack, dropping his enemy to the ground with a single quick strike. The sun broke into his view, sending a warmth as he fought with his mind as much as body.

He saw only orcs and men infront of him. There was no distinction between enemy and friend yet somehow he kept his sword back from all those who would prove to be allies in the battle for life and death.

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Khamdul yelled in his kinsmen's tongue as he literally threw himself upon a band of Wild Men and Orcs. He slew all of them, only obtaining a slight cut on his hand. He fought his way up the walls, either slashing his enemys or pushing them off the stairs. The warmth from the sun felt pleasant to him unlike the sun in Rhun where it was almost like the Underworld.

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I was cured all right.

Jax continued fighting, a mindless sluaghter of men and orcs continueing as he pressed forwards as a man without a spirit.

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The ring of steel sounded above the cries of war as the battle raged on, the fierce anger of the Rohirrim channeled into their blows, as their skill was apparent in each strike. Rohirrim and Gondorian fought alike, their swords as one and their cries anounced together, both set on victory, both fates bound to head in the same direction.

Arinae kept onward towards the front, each strike upon the enemy as strong as that of her comrades. Being on foot was not the Rohirrim's strong point in their skill, but none the less their force was powerful, and their strength unmatched by the enemy.

Reaching a clear stairway, Arinae scaled the hard surface quickly, stringing her bow and readying an arrow. Having been taught by the elves, her skill was fairly well weilded, and each carefully released arrow brought down an enemy. It was with barely time to spare that Arinae swung her aim around above her on the stairway, the body brought down by the arrow nearly throwing her off balance as it came tumbling to crash against her legs.

With quick reflexes, she avoided the strike of a second coming down the stairway but was soon overwhelmed by a larger mass of them, with barely room to unsheath her sword to fend off the blows. Arinae backed down the stairs, nearly knocking over a few of her own comrades as the horde blended together with the company at the bottom of the stairway.

After clearing her way, Arinae again made an attempt at the Deeping wall bringing a small company with her as the enemy archers upon the walls were doing their best to pick from the crowds below the Rohirrim and Gondorians. These threats were taken down as swiftly as possible, but with much resistance as the enemy attempted to protect this asset.

Arrows also had to be watched for from within the postern walls, though it was hoped that those within the Hornburg would have access to bow and arrow alike, which would greatly assist the Rohirrim force and their allies if they could wreak havoc from within.

The battle continued, and it was soon wondered where the leader to these abhorrent creatures was, and what exactly was brewing silently within the postern walls, for strangely, no reinforcements for the enemy within the Deep had been sent out, and none had yet gone beyond the main walls....

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Mid-day had passed away and the sun was at its peak shining brightly, however dark clouds begun to descend from the northern ranges and in a few hours they would have reached the battlefield thus covering the one thing that dismays the enemy and strengthens the hearts of men.

Aemornion noticed the creeping of the cloudy shadows slowly towards them. Haste was needed and the most powerful strikes had to be delivered to the enemy in the efforts to break asunder their ranks and scarrer them into smaller groups.

The fighting efforts of the ally forces had been doubled at the firm command of the battalion leaders and the enemy was stricken down swift. However this also shortened the endurance of the soldiers but they made good progress. The sun was glistening on the blades of their swords as they swung them through the battle and blood reeking air.

Not a moment later as most of the enemy archers visible had been slayed, ally arrows screamed through the air from the Hornburg. A small dozen of archers had taken their positions on the walls and windows as they let the arrows fly towards the enemy groups. Each arrow counted a strike.

The enemy number had been reduced massivley and victory was at hand but Aemornion catched the gaze from Arinae as it strayed towards the postern walls and he followed that glance. He also cought a glimpse of the path and enterence towards the Glittering caves before. A strange feeling had came to him for a blink of an eye but it soon dissapeared as he couted another cleaved head with his sword. In the entire battle he had recieved a few dozen bruises and two light cuts, one on the side and the other on the lower thigh, but the enduring and slightly heavy armor had shielded him well and kept him alive from the blows he could not fully block with his hands and sword.

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I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the Warrior for his glory. I love the homeland which they defend.

Jax didn't even seem to notic the enemy was slowly being depleated. He fought on as hard as before, taking no time to stop or rest. His arms constantly swing to attack or block, his feat moving swiftly and constantly. He focus was drawn and his mind unpenatrable when fighting.

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Khamdul slashed a Wild Man with his sword and knocked him off the wall. He saw an Orc was preparing to stab a Gondorian that was knocked down. He went and thrusted his sword in and out of the Orc. He then grabbed the Gondorian's hand and pulled him up. He kicked another Orc off the wall. He used his shield to bash a Wild Man against the rampant.

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I was cured all right.