The Legend Of Turambar
The Legend Of Turambar
Part 4: Innsbruck
By Turambar
Turambar’s sword crashed through the neck of the defenceless archer, tearing through muscle and bone as he bellowed the Lemurian war cry of “Lemur” at the top of his lungs. As the head fell away and the lifeless body slumped to the ground, Turambar smiled briefly at the efficiency of his weapon before driving it into the chest of the next archer.
It was a slaughter.
They’d came upon Innsbruck at dawn, the defenders alarm sounding to late for them put up any organised defence. Most of the unit of archers in the city had managed to assemble outside, and get off a few flights of arrows before Turambar’s warriors hit them at a dead run. The arrows they did fire went mainly astray, the daunting numbers they were facing clearly imtimidating them and clouding their thought.
Turambar had ran at the head of the charge, his weapon the first to taste blood.
The defenders were running now. The impact of the Lemurian warriors charge breaking their resolve to defend their people. Cowards, Turambar thought as his sword plunged through the collar bone of another running Austrian, taking the arm clean off. They stood no chance turning their backs and running. Their fear obviously stealing any courage or sense they had left after seeing the shear numbers pitted against them.
The running fight now moved on deeper into the streets of Innsbruck. Bemused and alarmed citizens were running into the path of the fleeing defenders and ultimately into the chasing attackers. But Turambar’s warriors were indiscriminate in who they took down. Seeing citizen and soldier alike as enemies.
Before long Lemurian Hoplites and Warriors filled the streets hunting down the defenders and stamping out any pockets of resistance from citizen and archer alike. Turambar found himself running with Galmar and Gothar beside him as they chased five archers round a bend and down a narrow alley. It was a dead end. The archers turned and seeing their deaths on the faces of the Lemurians tried one last desperate charge for their freedom and lives. Armed with knives they came at the three Lemurians at a sprint hoping to catch them off guard. But they did not have the range of Turambar’s and Galmar’s swords, or Gothar’s spear.
Turambar lunged forward feeling his sword drive deep into the chest of the lead runner, the black blade delivering a clean and swift death to the desperate Austrian. Withdrawing his blade he saw Galmar deal with his first opponent in similar style whilst the last three were upon Gothar.
Gothar had taken the first clean through the ribcage but his spear had become lodged there as the other two opponents saw their chance and descended upon him. Giving up on the weapon he stumbled back trying to avoid the first attackers lunge which put a deep cut along Gothar’s side. Seeing his friend go down Turambar quickly swung his sword at the head of Gothar’s second assailant smashing through his collar bone at the base of the neck. With a quick reversal of body movement he withdrew the sword and delivered a backhand strike to the body of the last Austrian attacking Gothar.
We all five dead Turambar crouched down to speak to the wounded Gothar whilst Galmar stood guard.
“You alright old man?”
“I’ll live.” replied Gothar moving to get up. Turambar reached out hand and helped the old warrior to his feet. “Perhaps you should try one at a time and work your way up?” said Turambar with a grin, knowing his friend would live.
“Didn’t have much choice did I?”
“You should get that seen to” said Turambar seeing the cut on Gothar’s side.
“Maybe later. For now we’ve a city to bring under control.”
“Indeed. And I dare say it’ll take a lot more deaths to do it.” said Turambar as the three of them made their way back out into the blood stained streets of Innsbruck. Back out amidst the first war and victory in the history of Lemuria.
The Legend Of Turambar
Part 4: Innsbruck
By Turambar
Turambar’s sword crashed through the neck of the defenceless archer, tearing through muscle and bone as he bellowed the Lemurian war cry of “Lemur” at the top of his lungs. As the head fell away and the lifeless body slumped to the ground, Turambar smiled briefly at the efficiency of his weapon before driving it into the chest of the next archer.
It was a slaughter.
They’d came upon Innsbruck at dawn, the defenders alarm sounding to late for them put up any organised defence. Most of the unit of archers in the city had managed to assemble outside, and get off a few flights of arrows before Turambar’s warriors hit them at a dead run. The arrows they did fire went mainly astray, the daunting numbers they were facing clearly imtimidating them and clouding their thought.
Turambar had ran at the head of the charge, his weapon the first to taste blood.
The defenders were running now. The impact of the Lemurian warriors charge breaking their resolve to defend their people. Cowards, Turambar thought as his sword plunged through the collar bone of another running Austrian, taking the arm clean off. They stood no chance turning their backs and running. Their fear obviously stealing any courage or sense they had left after seeing the shear numbers pitted against them.
The running fight now moved on deeper into the streets of Innsbruck. Bemused and alarmed citizens were running into the path of the fleeing defenders and ultimately into the chasing attackers. But Turambar’s warriors were indiscriminate in who they took down. Seeing citizen and soldier alike as enemies.
Before long Lemurian Hoplites and Warriors filled the streets hunting down the defenders and stamping out any pockets of resistance from citizen and archer alike. Turambar found himself running with Galmar and Gothar beside him as they chased five archers round a bend and down a narrow alley. It was a dead end. The archers turned and seeing their deaths on the faces of the Lemurians tried one last desperate charge for their freedom and lives. Armed with knives they came at the three Lemurians at a sprint hoping to catch them off guard. But they did not have the range of Turambar’s and Galmar’s swords, or Gothar’s spear.
Turambar lunged forward feeling his sword drive deep into the chest of the lead runner, the black blade delivering a clean and swift death to the desperate Austrian. Withdrawing his blade he saw Galmar deal with his first opponent in similar style whilst the last three were upon Gothar.
Gothar had taken the first clean through the ribcage but his spear had become lodged there as the other two opponents saw their chance and descended upon him. Giving up on the weapon he stumbled back trying to avoid the first attackers lunge which put a deep cut along Gothar’s side. Seeing his friend go down Turambar quickly swung his sword at the head of Gothar’s second assailant smashing through his collar bone at the base of the neck. With a quick reversal of body movement he withdrew the sword and delivered a backhand strike to the body of the last Austrian attacking Gothar.
We all five dead Turambar crouched down to speak to the wounded Gothar whilst Galmar stood guard.
“You alright old man?”
“I’ll live.” replied Gothar moving to get up. Turambar reached out hand and helped the old warrior to his feet. “Perhaps you should try one at a time and work your way up?” said Turambar with a grin, knowing his friend would live.
“Didn’t have much choice did I?”
“You should get that seen to” said Turambar seeing the cut on Gothar’s side.
“Maybe later. For now we’ve a city to bring under control.”
“Indeed. And I dare say it’ll take a lot more deaths to do it.” said Turambar as the three of them made their way back out into the blood stained streets of Innsbruck. Back out amidst the first war and victory in the history of Lemuria.
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