Midnight RPG - STORIES of The Battle For First-Hold

ERENLANDER: The Story of Human Resolve

We know what they think of us. The elves think we are not worth saving. They leave us out here for the wolves. They hide behind their trees and leave us in shanty towns, exposed to the results of their reactions and insolence. The shadow once had us in a strangle-hold. I will now tell you the story of how a handful of the otherwise not notable showed us all how we can stand on our own.

Once there was a man named Dern. He lived here in these woods, down at what was once known as Dern’s Hold. He came out in the night, stole our children, never to be seen again. He treated us like his personal slaves, though, he was really just a lap dog for the orcs. One day, a group of elves came traipsing through the woods, there was a huge battle just over to the west. Apparently, it was a blow to the shadow. Good for them. Lucky they don’t have to think about who pays for these things. In the following days, as “punishment,” Dern was ordered to sack the refugee camp that was once known as Blackwater. Dern burned the place down and took all of the boys from the camp.

This day, however, the leaders of Blackwater found their courage, maybe the blood of the kings of old, or maybe they’d just had enough. They rose up and turned on Dern when he was exposed, away from his hold. They knew these woods better than he. They managed to capture him. His followers, being stupid cowards, deserted him. Under threat of death, Dern was exposed as his true self, a bully. He immediately gave up the location of his hold and told the count of all who dwelled there, guards, slaves and all.

The people of Blackwater rose up and left their shanty-town, walking for days and days, going further than any of them had ever seen. Along the way, they met other towns and villagers who had suffered at the hands of Dern. Upon seeing their fallen foe they followed their brethren to Dern’s Hold. History has lost count of how these angry villagers managed to overtake the ignorant lapdogs of Dern, but what is known is that the human refugees managed to take over, and move into what is now known as Firsthold.

The people of firsthold made what Erenland has not seen in a very long time, a free city. A government was elected and the able-bodied armed themselves. Men had pulled themselves out of the refugee camps.

Eventually, those who held Dern’s leash came to the camp. His orc masters wanted their cut of his spoils. The people of firsthold held fast as 50 orcs came to the gate. “Open your doors” They cried. The answer was a volley of arrows that blacked out the sun. These foul creatures would serve to feed the wolves of the Green March, and their bones would bleach in the sun.

Now, unknown to the brave founders of Firsthold, these orcs were the lackeys of the vile Shaelgraf One-Arm. This orc was known as one of the fiercest warriors and generals ever known. They say he could level a platoon of the finest Sarcosan mounted warriors with one swipe of his axe. They say his skin could be breached by no human, that he could breath fire his voice could drive men to their knees. One-arm learned of these humans and marched his orc army (over 2000 strong) directly to first hold.

Commander Wilhem the first, of Firsthold, (originally from Blackwater) knew what was coming. He knew that these orcs they had slain belonged to the legendary One-arm and prepared his troops. They set traps that these stupid orcs would never see coming and the Firsthold forges ran day and night for 7 days. Commander Wilhem’s troops manned the walls, and those that could wield sword and axe hid among the outlying buildings, waiting to cut off One-arm’s army from behind. Wilhelm knew that he must win this fight for Firsthold to survive. The odds were dire, over 2000 orcs must be held with only 50 men. This was an impossible task.

One-arm approached the town warily and set up his camp to siege the town. He thought that these men would be an easy victory, that the human spirit was crushed and so too would be their bodies. His orc gnashed their teeth with anticipation of man-flesh, the goblins giggled with delight at the thought of this latest victory for the Namestealer.

As night fell, One-arm sent his goblins sneaking to the walls. Willhelm spotted them and let his arrows fly. Once again, the moon was blocked from view by the arrows, piercing the goblins. In their panic they fell into the traps set by the intrepid humans and were slain or routed. Their panicked screams filled the night.

Next, One-arm sent in hobgoblins, Willhelm was determined not to give any ground. Once again, the sneaking fiends were skewered upon the arrows of the defenders of Firsthold.

Finally, the battle began in truth. The orcs came running into the city, attempting to breach the walls. Trolls were brought in to break down the walls of firsthold. Again, many human arrows flew. Flaming arrows broke the trolls and slowly reduced the orcs numbers. Orcs, however, are much tougher than the sneakers and stinkers, they marched on!!.

The men of Firsthold did the only thing they could do, they ignited the town surrounding the city walls. This was the home of some of the men rescued, this, firsthold was to be the new hope of mankind. To preserve it, they must burn it, and burn it they did!! These men set fire to their new home, their new hope to burn out the orcs. The orcs screamed and burned, they cursed the name of One-arm, cursed the name of their blighted All-father. It availed them not, their screams did naught to stop the consuming fire of that which they sought to control.

Finally, One-arm came in himself with all his best weapons. His personal guard of orcs, (nasty orcs with blood on their lips), his two giant terrible demons, and they say he had even a dragon with him to tear down the walls. Last came One-arm himself riding his herd of Mumak, thundering across the open field towards this first outpost of man.

Arrows flew and the courage of man did not waver. So powerful was the resolve of man, so fierce was their fight that the demons balked and turned on their masters. One-arm’s personal guard of orcs turned and fled into the woods. The trees themselves were so impressed with the valor of men that they ignored their orders from the heartless elves and actually aided the men, slaying those who ran off. Even the slain orcs got up to defend their former enemies.

Hours later, orcs had fallen to the human traps, the Mumak was slain and even the dragon had been killed!!! They say that the dragon is buried beneath the town and its magic will bleass Firsthold for centuries.

Weakened and weary Willhelm sought to defend the wall. One-arm himself reached the wall, though his army was destroyed. Such a powerful orc is enough of a danger on his own. One-arm tore a hole in the wall on his own, breaching the wall and slaughtering the valorious guards of Firsthold. Willhelm and a few brave heroes defending the walls stepped out to challenge One-arm himself. The fight raged on, as the legend seemed true. Perhaps One-arm was immune to all damage from human blows. Fortunately, the tide had turned on One-arm. The once great leader was undone by his own cruelty and hubris. A surviving, embittered orc climbed from the rubble and double-crossing his former leader stabbed One-arm in the back, ending him. Vulnerable to the hands of his own people, the legend of Shaelgruf ended, and the legend of Firsthold began.

This is what we, as Erenlanders are capable of. We can turn even the fiercest of orcs!!! We can waylay even the worst of plans of the Enemy!!! Though neither firsthold nor its heroes may live on forever, let us ensure that the lessons of this victory do.

The Night One-Arm Died

The night that One-arm died (Erenlander drinking song)
Sung to the tune of The Night Pat Murphy Died by Great Big Sea

Shaelgruf was the nastiest orc to ever wield an axe,

He led his army forward, while hiding safely at their backs

His army was so fierce and tough and their speed would blow your mind

No one knew that the orcs would run just to leave his stench behind

CHORUS:

This is the tale of the end of One-arm’s legend

This is how our soldiers knocked him off his stride

And the news would make men laugh and sing and dance with one another

And every drink in the land was full the night that One-arm died

Old One-arm he would sick his band on all that they would meet

They’d sack and kill and steal and burn and leave dead in the street

And when the battle was over, then they’d drink their liquor down

And they’d get so rowdy drunk that they’d all burn their own camp down

CHORUS:

This is the tale of the end of One-arm’s legend

This is how our soldiers knocked him off his stride

And the news would make men laugh and sing and dance with one another

And every drink in the land was full the night that One-arm died

Sea born fights and moats and lakes could not slow One-arm down

He’d hold his foes heads under water, just to watch them drown

One time he lept into a lake to chase his running prey

And his one-arm stroke stuck him in circles for more than half a day.

CHORUS:

This is the tale of the end of One-arm’s legend

This is how our soldiers knocked him off his stride

And the news would make men laugh and sing and dance with one another

And every drink in the land was full the night that One-arm died

Then one day old One-arm stumbled on Freehold

He did not know the humans there were strong and brave and bold

He thought he’d saunter up to the gate and win the day

But his poor orcs they tripped and fell in crude holes along the way

CHORUS:

This is the tale of the end of One-arm’s legend

This is how our soldiers knocked him off his stride

And the news would make men laugh and sing and dance with one another

And every drink in the land was full the night that One-arm died

One-arm ran up to the wall to breach it on his own

He took in hand the hook and rope that the trolls were to have thrown

His bad balance from his missing arm sent the hook and rope awry

And he got tangled in the rope like a web would trap a fly.

CHORUS:

This is the tale of the end of One-arm’s legend

This is how our soldiers knocked him off his stride

And the news would make men laugh and sing and dance with one another

And every drink in the land was full the night that One-arm died

One-arm lay helpless on the ground tied up in silent rage

Men came up to view him like a tiger in a cage

The men and boys they grabbed their knives to give the orc his due

Everybody got their turn, and little timmy, he got two.

CHORUS:

This is the tale of the end of One-arm’s legend

This is how our soldiers knocked him off his stride

And the news would make men laugh and sing and dance with one another

And every drink in the land was full the night that One-arm died