| Moria, Melee Training Area This hall is centered on a round mound of sand encircled by blackened stones. To one side of it is a tangled maze of stones, logs, and boulders. They form a rudimentary obstacle course, to test the skilled and unskilled alike. Every so often an uruk trips himself up and lets out a bellow of pain as he smashes forcefully into the ground. Enormous crimson banners, depicting the weapons of Moria - axes, spears, scimitars, maces, picks, etc. - hang high from the walls. There are circles delineated by blood upon the bare floor, forming makeshift arenas for duels, quite often being used for violent impromptu challenges. To the sides are dummies, dressed in mail and helms, meat to be used for target practice, usually just to relieve pent up aggression. In the other corner an altar depicting the mighty Balrog sits, and sacks of incense wait to be offered up to the dread Flame upon the termination of a successful practice session. The dint of warriors fighting, their weapons clanging against one another, is the sound heard most often in this busy hall, but cries of anguish or triumph often emerge over the basic grunts of combat. Contents: Irt Uberghash Whipping Post Steel Weapons Chest Obvious exits: SouthWest leads to Moria, Durin's Way - East. North leads to Moria, Map Room. Shrek has arrived. Nihraguk arrives from the Southwestern tunnel. Nihraguk has arrived. Gurstaka is in the center of the room, enclosed within one of the circles of blood, mace in hand and held high. Standing opposite him is a large, young looking uruk wielding a scimitar. This uruk closes with vicious cuts, Gurstaka using his mace to parry or deflect the blows moments before they strike his flesh. Then, with a twist of his wrist, he sends the mace flicking out at the Uruk, crumpling him up with a blow with the upper handle of the mace, right below the head. Standing straight again, he wipes his brow of sweat, and allows the uruk to move out of the circle. [Irt(#29717)] Kneeling upon both knees before the statue of the Balrog is one of the guards of Moria and a slow murmer fills the air about him. The guard bows his head lower than it already is and then pushes his way to his feet, never once looking at the statue itself, Irt turns and takes a few strides before stopping and just looking. [Nihraguk(#21749)] To the side, an uruk stands, his arms folded across his chest as he watches the ongoing duel. His tunic is stained with sweat and mud, and his hair clings to his sticky face. Breathing heavily, he appears to be catching his breath. An axe hangs loosely by his side, it's edge stained with a slight sheen of crimson. With impassive eyes Nihraguk scans the training area, mouth set in a firm line. Shrek rattles the long, crooked tips of his nail together in rapid succession. It creates a tick-tick tick-tick sound, over and over again. Through parted gray lips, a ssssss sound is emitted, every once in the while stopping as the creature pauses to take breath. Huge, deep-sunken, eyes shine through the darkness with an eerie red color. From side to side the misshapen head twists, examining everything with keen interest. Gurstaka lowers the mace once he see's that his opponent is in no condition to fight anymore. re-attaching it to his belt, he takes a deep breath, his eyes alight from his victory. Exiting the circle he grabs his shield from where he was letting it lie and attaches it to his arm. Stepping back into the right, he turns to address the crowd. "Is there anyone else who wishes to spar with me" he booms out to the throng of uruks within th e room." [Irt(#29717)] A wicked grin figures its way on to the guards face as without a word, he pulls a shield from his back and a mace from his belt. Slowly, he approaches the ring, bows his head, looks up; "You seek a spar," he asks the Thrakburzum, "Then you have a spar," he hisses. [Nihraguk(#21749)] Nihraguk chuckles, a dry, rattling sound that pulls at the marrows. Stepping forward from the corner he stands in, the flickering torchlight casts his features in garish shadows, enhancing their feral aspects. As he approaches Gurstaka and Irt, one hand finds its way to the axe by his side and tugs it free, while the other combs his hair away from the impassive, dull orbs that stare fixedly at the challenger, with not a flicker of light seen within. [Combat(#13388)] Nihraguk unhooks a wicked-looking axe from his side, and holds it steadily in his right hand. [Shrek(#24362)] "Ahh," comes a dry hiss, "What gathers here? Could it be a gathering of sorts? Perhaps, perhaps" Seething eyes carefully watch the would-be combatants, nimble steps taking him a bit closer to the group. Upon a long staff shaped half of metal, and half of wood, he creeps. Gurstaka snaps the mace from his mace in a fluid motion, raising it so that its head points directly at Irt. "YI shall fight both of you at the same time" he growls, hefting the mace and studying his opponent. His left arm puts his shield into position, the head of his mace waving back and forth slowly as he stands his ground, his eyes focussed upon the two approaching uruks. "I'm waiting for your strikes" he hisses, crouching slightly and raising his shield even higher for added protection. Irt(#29717)] "Folly," the guard rasps quietly as he steps into the ring. Irt wasts no time going on the offensive, his mace leaping out in a downward stroke at the Thrakburzum's mace-wielding shouler; a cruel, almost sadistic grin on his face. Irt attacks you with his Mace!... ...and you block his attack with your shield! [Nihraguk(#21749)] Moving closely behind the guard is Nihraguk, his steps slow and langurous as he twists around to allow Irt more room for his blows. The rhythmic motion brings him to the left side of the smith, and as he raises his axe into the sky, a terrible gleam appears in his eyes. There is a heartbeat, as the axe hangs, seemingly in stasis, in the air; then it falls, quick and sure, darting through the air and arcing towards the other's left arm. Nihraguk attacks you with his Axe!... ...and he hits! Ouch! ARB: You've been injured for 1 hp's by Nihraguk's attack... ...you have 81 left. Please RP this injury accordingly. [Shrek(#24362)] "...And from the flame we marched," Shrek appears to be reading from a leather bound tome now. "Uruk, bred in the darkness. Hated by the Sun, and all of her children." His voice fills the cavernous chamber, eyes rising from the text as the sentence comes to an end. In one hand he grasps the long Staff, in the other his book. Gurstaka grins at Irt, his eyes watchful as the guard approaches. "Not foolhardy at all, Guard, for if one wishes to increase their skills, how better to do it than fight in circumstances more difficult than normal?" With this, Gurstaka uses his heavy shield to parry the mace, the weapon skidding off the painted flame on its surface harmlessly. Nihraguk's sneaky attack from behind catches him by surpise however, and in the process of dancing away he catches a nasty nick on his arm. Scowling at his inattention he pulls back so that he is at the side of the Axe-wielding uruk, and so he can keep on eye on both at once. He flicks his mace out in a light attack at Nihraguk as he backs off to give himself more room. You attack Nihraguk with your Mace... [Combat(#13388)->Gurstaka] Nihraguk dodges your attack. [Irt(#29717)] A growl of frustration escapes Irt's lips, his attack knocked away by a petty shield. "A lesson you will learn then Thrakburzum," he hisses as he brings his mace back toward his opponents rib cage. Irt attacks you with his Mace!... ...and he misses! [Nihraguk(#21749)] An angry colour flashes in the zealot's eyes, as Shrek reads from his tome. His face creases into something close to disgust; but his concentration remains on the battle at hand. As the mace swings towards him, he dextrously sidesteps the blow, then, his axe whistles through the air once more, this time intended for the extended weapon arm of the smith. Nihraguk attacks you with his Axe!... ...and you parry his attack with your Mace! Shrek gasps suddenly, the eyes of the untrue do not come to him as they should! "Bastards, heathen, those unworthy of the Flames blessing! Now, no other time will do, you should turn thy eyes upon my mouth and hear the words that flow..." With that, he raises up the Staff and slams its metal end against the cold stone floor. Gurstaka looks about as graceful as a dancer as he swiftly slips Irts attack, only to re-assert his brute strength as he blocks the Axe full one with the metal handle of his mace. "Prehaps I will learn a lesson, Guard, but YOU are not experienced enough to give it to me.." With this, he gives a mighty heave, pushing the axe head away, before following it up swiftly with a mace-blow which flies toward the Axe-wielding uruks shoulder You attack Nihraguk with your Mace... [Combat(#13388)->Gurstaka] Your attack against Nihraguk badly wounds him! [Nihraguk(#21749)] A flicker of emotion passes through the twin black abysses that lurk in his skull as the mace of Gurstaka finds its place in the shoulder of the Zealot. As the repeated tapping of the shaman's staff further calls his attention, Nihraguk frowns for a moment, then, stepping away from the ring, replaces his axe by his side. A curt nod is given to the combatents, then, as he turns around to leave, he regards Shrek darkly for a moment, before his feet lead him out of the training area, his footsteps silent and light upon the floor. [Irt(#29717)] "That's what Emordurthu thought too," Irt rasps, "but he learned otherwise." A chilling laugh flows from the guard, but the sound of metal against stone drowns it out and his eyes turn to the shaman. His mouth opens as if to speak, but no words come forth, only silence, the jaws clench back together, "Quiet now fool, a shaman speaks," he hisses in closer. ARB: Irt has "passed" on his turn to attack. [Shrek(#24362)] Pleased with this new attention awarded him, Shrek begins to speak once more. "All that hear these words, the truest thoughts of the Flame, are forever blessed should they wish it." Grasping tighter about the Staff, he brings it high above - letting it loom in the air. "Who will come to me now, then? Who shall be first cleansed?" Gurstaka grins as his mace head finds the shoulder of one of his assailants, then spins, awaiting the Guards attack. He then relaxes from his attack stance once he see's that the Guard has stood down. "Emordurthu was a fool and a weakling Guard, you shall find me harder to deal with should you ever seek to take MY head." Still holding the mace in his hand, he turns his attention to the crazed shaman spouting out words at random "I think close proximity to the Flame must unbalance Urukish minds" he mutters to himself. [Irt(#29717)] "It is best to do as they say despite," the guard mumbles before stepping from the ring, toward the shaman. He puts his mace in his belt as he nears Shrek and, stopping a few feet before him, falls to one knee. The open hand clenches into a fist and pounds upon the guards chest and then falls to the ground, bracing his body. [Combat(#13388)] Irt stashes his mace back into his belt. Shrek runs a black tongue across his dry lips, wetting them. "So," he breathes, "You wish to be true? A warrior worth the blessing of the Flame?" Snickering, the Shaman bends to one side, setting down the Staff while he shifts the tome to his right hand. From it, he reads, 'The path of a Warrior... fraught with dangers, dangers to the soul and pureness of ones mind. For, with the strength you gain from battle comes lust and greed." Gurstaka reattaches the mace he wears to his belt, his eyes watching his sparring partner approaching and kneel before the crazed Shaman. "Foolishness" is all he mutters at the Uruks actions - close attention of the Shamans is never a good thing. Gurstaka is quite happy with his position with the flame as he is. Outwardly, however, he merely watches, his deep red eyes observe - but he keeps his opinion of these matters to himself. Irt does not look up but does pound his still clenched fist upon the ground. "The guards of Moria have no use for lust and greed, we live only to serve the Flame and her message," the guard says slowly, choosing his words carefully. [Shrek(#24362)] Silence ensues, for it seems that Shrek reads thoughtfully through the ancient pages of his book. Finally, the crisp air is broken with word. A shrill, unkind voice, "Hear! Hear me now! You may not wish harbor the greed now, but it comes soon. Believe me, it does." He blinks once, then twice, eyes bulging as he leans down to be near the other. "I shall help you, you shall be cleansed." [Irt(#29717)] The head of the guard raises a slight bit, but falls in a bow as he shifts his body weight from one side to the other; still kneeled. "If I am to be cleansed, then I will be cleansed," Irt mutters, a bit of nervousness showing in his voice, but he falls silent before it controls his words. Gurstaka watches briefly the guard Irt who is about to begin his "cleansing". Shrugging his shoulders, he puts his weapons and equipment away. Scowling at the small gathering that clusters around the shaman, he begins to stride off to those places where the Uruks have more sense. [Shrek(#24362)] He thinks for a moment, and then utters a question... "Of what title do you call yourself? What standing do you have in your tribe?" Shrek's eyes seem to have been focused upon Irt the entire time, but they shift to notice this new movement. "One leaves?" he mutters questioningly, this is followed by an angered voice, "Who dares to leave!" [Irt(#29717)] "I have no tribe," the guard says, "By order of the Master Shaman, I bathed myself in what blood there was of my former boss Grunnu and left the Ghashobazog tribe. I am only a guard now, my only loyalties are to the Flame and her messengers." Gurstaka looks toward the Shaman that preaches as he begins to leave the room. "I have urgent work to complete in the Flames honour, Dread Shaman. As much as I hunger for your words of the Flame, I must complete the work so that the armies of the Flame grow stronger. [Shrek(#24362)] For a moment he glances upon Irt, and then back to Gurstaka. It takes him this long to fix the error of mind now coming to bare, "I say that you, Uruk, are to be cleansed." Waving a hand before the kneeling guard he adds, "He is cleansed, and so shall you be. Now, kneel before me." Evil thoughts run through Gurstaka's head, all ending in the grisly death of this so-called Shaman. Inwardly he sighs. The Shamans rule, even the crazy ones, and hard as he thinks, he cannot come up with a reason to escape. Therefore he approaches, his boots stamping on the floor and his red eyes reflecting the torchlight from his eyes so that they almost seem to glow. Kneeling before the shaman, he raises his head to look up at him. "May the Flame find me pure" he says. [Irt(#29717)] Slowly, the guard gets to his feet, head still bowed, free hand still clenched in a fist. "Thank you Shaman," he rasps, taking a few steps back before bringing his head up. Irt's face is a mask showing no emotion as he quietly watches the Thrakburzum and shaman. [Shrek(#24362)] Without moving a step, Shrek calls out, "You... powerful minion to the Flame, you say? Power leads to victory, and victory to promotion! Alas, none of your ranking matters when you face us! We bare the burden of the Flames word!" Now, turning and coming within a few paces of Gurstaka the words begin again, "Will you do as I command you, no matter what it may be, in order to keep your life this day?" Gurstaka looks the Shaman full in the face "No Shaman, I shall not. Order me to kill or forge armour, that I will do. Order me to seek to undermine the flame, or to kill the shamans who serve him, that I will not do. I am the flames soldier, Shaman, and I will not go against it in any way." [Shrek(#24362)] His nostrils begin to flare, the small black holes at the end of the nose puffing in and out. Hot steamy air is exhaled from them every few seconds, the gaseous substance floating over in front of Gurstaka as if taunting him. "To defy the Shaman, disciple of the Flame, is to agree to suffering. Ahh, but you will not suffer in the way you think. The pain of the body is insignificant next to the anguish of the mind!" Tilting his head back a bit, the Shaman begins to cackle cruelly. Gurstaka looks back at the cackling Shrek like he is a maniac. "I do not defy the Shamans, for the Shamans serve which I serve. I will not go against the almighty Flame no matter who orders me to do so. If the Flame requires me to suffer pain, so be it, but no pain could be so great as defying the one which rules us all. [Shrek(#24362)] 'Of the rebellious, it is not good to speak. For words, deeds and doings of this foul kind breed new believers of the mischief. In order to squash these tendencies from becoming prevalent among the mob, the common uruk, one must belittle the origin in such a way as to deter the others.' These words come are located in the Tome, written in the cryptic language of Morbeth. From them comes his utterance of punishment, "Rise now, for you are belittled and will never rise past the rank of Tetrak until you bring me the rotting head of your foes! Moria's foes! Rise now, Cobug!" Cackling cruelly, he begins to walk away - heading down some dark tunnel to the side. Gurstaka has to restrict the urge to jump up and kill the Shaman for his words, but he merely bottles up his raging anger. He will set this straight soon enough, and like as not it will end up in this arrogant Shaman's death. Rising to his feet, he takes a glowering look at the Shaman, and immediatly turns his back and leaves, not looking back. |