Running as fast as you could, you made toward the door that led into the Chamber of Mazarbul. Doom doom!! came the orcish drumbeats as their armor clanked behind you. You briefly looked over your shoulder to notice several arrows swish by.
"Wait!! Let me in please!! I'm not an orc!!" you shout at the top of your breath as you approach. Because of the light that shines from the ceiling, the surprised Fellowship is able to discern that you are indeed a human. Well, a human with dragonwings that is...
Right when you arrive the the door, a pair of powerful arms pulls you in, right as arrows snap onto the wooden frame. You catch your breath for a second, and stare up at the men who had saved you; and recognize them as Aragorn and Boromir. "Thanks, that was too close" you mutter as they help you to your feet.
"Who are you!!" cries a tall, graceful figure with a bow that no doubt had to be Legolas. Before you can answer, Samwise Gamgee turns a weary eye on you and asks, "Have you been following us?" You nod quickly.
Just then, there was a heavy bang that pelted against the doorway. "That is not of consequence right now, for the orcs come!!" you cry fiercely as reached into your hilt and pulled out your repeating light crossbow. The Fellowship merely nods and faces the entrance, with an exotic weapon like that they must assume you know how to fight.
Right then, orcish body parts emerged from the splitered holes of the door. With dragoner-fast reflexes, you hoisted your crossbow, quickly making sure all the bolts were fully mounted magazine, [No, even if Gil uses a Cho-Ko-Nu he is not Asian, unlike myself] and pulled back the lever and fired several shots through the holes. Black fountains of orcish blood poured through the holes as the combined fire of your, Legolas and Aragorn pummeled the orcs.
Yet the repeated crashes were taking a toll on the door, and after the loudest crash of all, the orcs came flooding into the chamber.
With a wild cry, you unsheathed your sword, 'Ashrapier' and threw yourself whole heartedly into the confusion. You had a fine blade, crafted intricately to resemble the spout of flame from a dragon's mouth, yet as you swung all it's apprent bulk, it was surprisingly light. You'd never thought your family's sword would ever see battle action again, but the orcs would make sure otherwise. Not only that, you didn't think it'd be a good idea to create technological anamolies in Middle Earth at this point. Not when Assraper was working well enough.
As an orc fell dead with protruding eyes at your feet, another adversary came at you and swung a mallet at your head. Without missing a beat you ducked under the blow and cleaved its head off. You quickly doubled back to block another orcish sword; you felt, not smelled, the orcs putrid breath bear down on you as your blade twined with his. Suddenly, you kicked out with your leg, knocking it off balance. Screaming, you lifted your blade a cut him through.
Another two orcs charged through the door in tandem, swinging huge flails wildly. You swung your sword and beat the spiked ball out of it's chain, which flew across the chamber and dug into the face of an orc that had been engaged with Gimli. You continued your swinging motion and cleaved Ashrapier between the legs of the other orc and felt it squelch with its insides until it exited through the top of it's skull. The equal halves fell in opposite directions, spilling organs.
No orc could stand fight hand to hand with you even for a moment, for all fell victim to Ashrapier. And that was without your powers or your dragon. Just then, there was the loudest crash of all, one that created a Drak-sized hole from where the door once was.
A cave troll, covered in chains, emerged from the creavase. As it undulated into the polluted air of the chamber of Mazabul, it flashed it brown teeth and lifted its arms into the air, you suddenly missed your loyal, fire-breathing friend more than ever...
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