Later that day, one of Orien's patrols encountered the Jarl who had abandoned the hold. He was hiding inside of a cave, afraid to wander out of the hold due to both the Forsworn and the Dominion. So the patrol picked him up, and brought him back to the city, were Orien, instead of Executing him, pressed him into service with the others. He had two guards posted on him at all times to make sure he didn't escape. The former Jarl was put to work almost Immediately after he arrived, helping to build the fortifications. He had an extra incentive to help, because now he was stuck here, and his life depended on how well the fortifications were built. Orien had chuckled trying to watch the Jarl, who had probably never done even the tiniest amount of labor in his life, attempt to build up the breastworks. As the day got later, Orien organized a patrol. Leaving Lod in charge of the city, he decided to lead the patrol himself. The group, six in all, mounted up on horses, and left through the western gate, trotting down the road. Along the way, they encountered a few deer, which instantly scattered upon their approach, and one bear, which practically ignored them as they walked by.
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As night began to descend, they turned, and started back towards the direction of the city. Orien lit a torch, and held it in his left hand as he rode on. Suddenly, his horse reared up, and fell over onto the ground. Orien pulled himself from out under the horse, and pulled out his mace. His shield was still tied to his horses saddle. He bent down to check on the horse, and found an arrow in her chest. Orien set down his mace for a second, and pulled out the arrow, and his eyes grew wide inside his helmet. 'They couldn't be this close...' He thought to himself.
"To arms!" Orien yelled out, tossing the arrow onto the ground, and picking up his mace. Almost immediately after he did, a wild war cry sounded from the nearby dark forest, and out of no where, a forsworn warrior charged out, heading straight at Orien. Thinking quickly, the Imperial Legate threw his torch at the mad man charging at him. The torch impacted, and set the Forsworn male on fire. The man kept charging forward, but had dropped his weapon, and his yell had turned into more of a scream, as he tried to bat out the flames. Orien swung his mace upwards, and caught the man in the jaw. There was a sickening crunch, and the sound of bones breaking, and the Forsworn warrior almost did a back flip from the force of the blow. His fellow warriors situated themselves on their horses as he walked back to his now dead horse. Swinging his mace in an arc, he used the blades on the top of his weapon to slice the string that held his shield in place. As he picked it up, noises started sounding from the forest. The noises sounded like bird chirps. Suddenly, there were wails and shouts from what seemed like all around them, and then they appeared. About twenty Forsworn warriors ran out of the forest, heading straight at Orien. An arrow whizzed past his head, and struck one of the charging Forsworn in the throat, and he went down in a gurgling heap. Next, the warriors on Horseback rode past him, and entered into the Forsworn ranks, a few were able to scatter, but most got caught under the trampling of the horses and the swinging blades of the warriors riding the horses.
Five remained, and Orien charged at them as they were recovering behind the horses. Raising his shield, and putting his full force behind it, he bull dozed over two of the remaining Forsworn, knocking them to the sides. He then bashed the third one with his shield, throwing him off balance, and swung his mace in an overhand arc, bringing the weapon smashing down into the top of the man's skull, and he fell over, dead instantly. By this time, the two behind him were starting to recover. Orien quickly engaged the next man in front of him, who was standing still stunned by the brutality of the assault. Orien bashed him in the face with his shield, and then swung his mace sideways, bringing it into the side of the Forsworn, who's ribs broke upon impact. The blades on the mace dug in and Orien made a quick sawing motion back and forth, before pulling the mace back out with a sickening suction sound. As the Forsworn he had just killed fell over, the man in front of him recovered finally. Orien blocked a stab with the mans sword with his shield, and swing his mace sideways, but the guy jumped backwards, out of the way. By this time, the two Forsworn behind him had recovered, and turned, preparing to charge him. As the man he was engaging brought his sword in an overhand arc, Orien battered out with his shield, catching the man's sword and hand with the lash. The man dropped the sword, and started to reach for his hand. Orien heard footsteps behind him, so he swung his mace upwards, catching the man full in the face. An arrow from his men swooped by him, and he heard a gurgling noise, but he still heard footsteps as well. Swing himself in a 180 degree turn, with his mace extended, he caught the final Forsworn male straight in the neck. The flanges of the mace dug deep into the mans neck, and combined with the force of the blow, severed his spinal column. The man's head fell down to Orien's left, and the body collapsed to his right, a trail of blood squirting out. Orien stood up to his full height, breathing somewhat heavy, but feeling like he could go on for hours if he needed, too. As the realization dawned on him that there could be more, he let out a blood curdling yell. All of the bird chips and noises from the forest stopped. Then twigs began to snap, and a jumbled mess of footsteps were heard running away from the immediate area. Orien sighed, and hooked his mace back on his belt. A young male on horseback came over to Orien, and offered his hand to him. Orien accepted, and got up behind him, on the back of his horse. The horse couldn't run as fast, but it could certainly trot. So Trot they did, the whole group, staying on alert all the way back to the city.
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It was the middle of the night now. Orien stormed up into his Command Post in Lod's house. Terin, his second in command, had just returned from the trip with the Refugees. Orien had almost literally picked him up, and carried him back to the CP. Once they entered into the building, he kicked the door closed behind him. Lod gave Orien a queer look.
"We ran into a patrol. And not a small one either, it was pretty large. I estimate we killed at least fifteen, maybe twenty, but it sounded like there were more in the woods. They were probing us, Terin. Seeing how we fought. I didn't realize they were so close." He said, lifting off his helmet, and slamming it down onto the table, next to the map, which jumped into the air a bit before settling back on the surface. Terin looked at him, a hint of fear in his eyes.
"They must have a large force on the way if they can spare almost twenty men like that. Especially since they were just probing us." He stated to Orien. Orien nodded his head in agreement. Lod walked up to the table, and rested his hands on it. "So what do we do now, Legate?" the Blacksmith asked. Orien sat down in a chair, and pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking. It was about eighty men and women against an unknown force. Out of that group, only forty have had actual military training and combat experience. They were definitely going to need some help.
"We have to hold out until Fela returns, hopefully with our reinforcements. She should have arrived at High Hrothgar by now. If she hasn't, that either means she is running late, or..." He didn't finish the sentence. Terin and Lod both new what he was thinking. "Get some rest you two. I am going out to double the guard up top. Maybe I will join them out there." Orien said. Not even waiting for a reply, he picked up his helmet, and walked out. Putting his helmet back on, he called out for a doubling of the guards, and then went up to the West Wall, and joined them.