Freeform Archive · Legacy archive
The Last War
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Re: The Last War
#361As the airborne demon was struck in the chest, the infernal darkness lifted. And by the light of the torches nearby Grumple saw...
"GRUMPLE'S SPEAR!" thought Grumple. High in the air and dropping fast, right toward the puffy pink thing.
Now, a casual observer might note the puffy pink thing was fast, to be sure. Really fast. And agile to boot. But our hypothetical observer might note the Tooth wasn't the kind of weapon to be put off much with things like "fast", or "agile". Not when it had drawn a bead on a victim.
Grumple, as usual, wasn't a casual observer. He was, shall we say, "involved." Really Involved.
Grumple jumped to his feet with agility of his own and lurched forward greedily, shoving Addle to one side as she/he/it/whatever jinked back and forth in an attempt to get out of harm's way. Grumple happily reached up in the air for HIS SPEAR. That's when it hit him.
The concept. (Not the spear.) With a sudden and belated flash of recognition, Grumple realized he had been in this same position, more or less, only yesterday. And as if to drive the point home, it (the spear) changed course for him. Again.
So, again, Grumple had but a desperate fraction of a second to block with his hands. This time the ravenous Tooth cut off two of the three fingers on his right hand as Grumple barely deflected the weapon from a direct trolls-eye hit.
Grumple sat on the ground with his left hand wrapped happily around the Tooth's shaft and his right hand in his mouth, trying to stop the bleeding. Grumple didn't know which hurt worst:
1)Â Grumple's fingers,
or
2)Â Grumple had been hit, again, by his prized weapon,
or
3)Â Grumple had saved the life of that pink thing...Â
Yes...Â
That really, really hurt.
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Re: The Last War
#362Howling like the tormentor of damned souls that he was Fenris ripped into Rory's spirit form with slashing claws. Rory dodged and parried with his staff and tightly woven weaves of magik. Razor sharp pain exploded across his face. Back in his room at the Blacksmiths Shoes two lines of bright blood appeared on the left cheek of his slumbering body. The young wilder weaved the surrounding magik into a net which he hurled at the imp. Tantus would be able to contain the demon with such an attack but Rory's power lacked the divine spark of the Bugbear cleric and Fenris ripped the magikal bonds assunder with a sound like the rending of metal. Rory threw up his arms in a warding gesture as Fenris unleased a pure black cone of malevolent energy at the Wilder. He muttered a chant that would serve as protection from evil.
The warding was weak.
His faith was not what it should be.
This type of magik was not his element.
Wood and masonry disintergrated as the blast from Fenris' attack destroyed the entire side of the building. Rory was blasted backward into the street. Disoriented and confused, he fled back down the silver cord to his body. He woke up with a gasp writhing on his bed in pain. Baldwin and Dugal jumped up and ran to his bedside faces filled with concern as they watched Rory's face locked in a contorted grimace of pain.
Back at the scene of battle, Holly, Grumple and Addle lay covered in rubble. Fenris prowled the rubble looking for the spear. He glimpsed the haft and reached for it just as he laid eyes on Tantus. Fenris hissed in hatred and fear and he flew upward dissapearing in a foul explosion of black and purple smoke that stank of sulphur and dried blood... -
Re: The Last War
#363Addle saw the spear first. It was very shiny. It was Addle's one vice. Addle hopped over in a flash, cute as a button, to the spear, and then...the spear, and Addle, were gone from sight. The demon Fenris was confused. Where had the spear gone? -
Re: The Last War
#364OOC: Why do we engage in this infernal ritual where we stuff poultry and then stuff ourselves. Today I ate more than any human had a right to. Anyway concerning Malik's pet demon. He has transported outta dodge. He'd get the best of Rory in a toe to toe fight but Tantus would likely get the best of him. Don't fear though, he'll show back up later.
IC: Baldwin looked down at his brother. "Rory! What happened?" Dugal stared wide eyed as well.
"Your hair..."
"What?" Rory's body felt like he had been hit with a thousand hammers, and the evil taint of the imp made his skin crawl.
"It's white!"
Wincing with pain Rory jumped up and looked in the mirror hanging over a chest of drawers in the corner of the room. He looked at his reflection. His skin was still smooth and young looking but the effects of his battle with Fenris had made themselves apparent in his hair. It was as white as new snow, including the stubble on his face and the hair of his eyebrows.
A vain man would have been concerned, angry even. Rory was a different sort, "Damnned Imp" He swore. He felt lucky to have survived the battle in one piece. He mentally added it to the long list of foolish things he had gotten away with doing with his skin intact.
He related the events of the fight to his brothers, leaving nothing out. So much for the rest they were supposed to be getting before the battle.
Rory thought of something. A sly smile crossed his face as he undid his britches and looked down. What he saw there caused laughter to well up from his stomach and burst forth from his mouth.
Dugal and Baldwin thought their brother was daft...no they knew he was daft. But his laughter was infectious and soon all three were laughing until they were nearly crying... -
Re: The Last War
#365OCC: You're supposed to be celebrating the fact that you didn't starve to death last year by eating next winter's food supply all at once, or something like that.
IC: Grumple lay dazed, ears ringing from a thunderclap, under a pile of debris, missing two fingers, with the stench of sulfur and dried blood in the air.
"Something smell good" thought Grumple.
Grumple pushed up though the remains of a mattress with an astonished little old lady sitting on it, and stood up. The lady -- who was still holding a small jug of hard cider -- looked around at the smoke and destruction, looked at Grumple and Tantus, and then looked at her jug. At that point, she carefully corked the jug, placed it even more carefully on the bed, and backed away from the scene of destruction and turned to run down the street.
Grumple wasn't looking at her. Grumple looked for the spear. And the pink thing. Both Gone. Grumple didn't need to count to add this one up. "PINK THING TAKE GRUMPLE'S SPEAR!"
This meant war.
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Re: The Last War
#366"It has, we must get it back!" Tantus snarled in gutteral trollshaw. Something about the fluffy cuteness of the entity known as Addle piqued something in the back of Tantus' brain. It was deeper than the subconscious, no longer dwelling in the cerebrum itself. It was deep, deep inside the varigated folds of the cerebellum, the hind brain, the animal brain.
Unlike the typical human, the typical bugbear has a cerebellum approximately 52% larger, mostly at the expense of the cerebrum and it's visual processing center. The bugbear is well known for it's amazingly fast reflexes, that while fast are still inferior to that of a troll. The Wizard Darnby attempted to measure the size of a troll brain, but ended up ruing a good number of bone saws before giving up. Now mind you giving up troll research usually involves an angry troll escaping from his bonds.
Now, deep in this organic construct was the intuition inherited by hundreds upon hundreds of generations of bugbears. It was an arcane link, one that told the bugbear how to hunt creatures he had never seen, how to stalk places he had never been, and how to judge things. This intuitive nature was mandatory considering that most bugbears live in the company of giants, orcs, ogres, goblins, and of course, trolls. Now this intuition told Tantus something. It spoke to his subconscious.
It whispered in a soft, yet undeniable voice that told him that Addle was bad. It didn't tell him why Addle was bad, but it definately told him Addle was bad, evil, possibly beyond even evil evil. Ugly things survive, brutish things survive, and cunning smart things survive...fluffy cute things die...they are eaten...they are slaughtered by those that are vicious. They are unnatural.
Tantus forgot himself. He forgot his training as a monk. He forgot his meditation and practiced breathing. He forgot the words of St. Logan, and the wisdom of St. Duncan. He lunged forward after the escaping bundle of cute, discarding his impromptu walking stick and bounding forward, using his arms as leverage in the way that a large predatory runs down it's prey.
The cerebellum, having comandeered the entire brain knew what to do. The Pink thing was very likely a sprinter, and it would try to escape via maneuverability. The hindbrain instructed Tantus to look towards Grumple, registering the Troll as the closest thing to an ally. The humans were worthy in many ways, but as hunters they were painfully sub par.
"Hunt-Kill Cute" He snarled, knocking a pile of roadside debris aside in his mad chase after Addle and the Tooth.
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Re: The Last War
#367OCC: Hot Dawg, Scraz, you sure can write!! Wow!
IC: "Yah!" Grumple exclaimed. "Tantus go!" Deep inside, Grumple wasn't comfortable around the civilized, religious bugbear. Didn't seem right. This was much better.
Grumple's cerebellum, cerebrum, abacus, whatever; didn't have any excess brainpower to spare. Just enough to get the job done.
Grumple took off after Tantus, who was moving FAST for something that large. Nothing like running with the pack and shredding some prey for a good time. Grumple could almost TASTE puffy pink fluff already. Probably like chicken.
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Re: The Last War
#368The sun was rising. Morning was dawning, bringing yet another promise of life and growth for the world.
Of course, no one in the Legion paid attention. Griping as usual, the men were too busy marching along in ranks of 4 wide, carrying their packs, weapons, and other tools and supplies as before. The columns tramped on in a fluid but disciplined formation; machinelike in aspect, perhaps the finest display of humanity's potential. Massive, motivated movement. Unrelenting potential for change. Like the tropical army ants that swarm inexorably over an entire ecosystem and make it their own.
At this pace, the Legion would be at the outskirts of Halbad by late night. Stunning speed and power were theirs. The city would fall. They knew this. It was always this way. -
Re: The Last War
#369Now, it has been established that Addle had gone from sight. But this is not to be confused with the idea that Addle was actually gone. Nor is this to be confused with the idea that Addle was gone from most sight, such as when one is hiding or obscured from view, because there is always some angle in which one can be observed when hiding.
No; Addle was, in the most literal sense, gone from all sight, everywhere, but not actually gone. Addle was invisible. And so was the spear. So when the really large ugly thing started chasing Addle, along with the really large, but not as large, uglier thing, Addle was a little caught off gaurd. Or at least, until Addle realized that the tail end of the shaft of the grossly oversized spear that Addle was trailing behind, was in fact, quite visible.
Now, Addle may have been surprised a little, but Addle was not caught off gaurd. More than a few predators had wanted Dinner at Addle's expense, and this was almost run of the mill.
Addle broke away through the city streets, tucking around one corner into a back alley filled with compost and the contents of bedpans. Addle leapt over top of a very large bucket, hearing the twang of the metal on the wooden haft of the spear, followed by the sound of that bucket's end as Tantus crushed it under foot.
The walls fell away as Addle sprinted out of the darkened alley into the main city street, underneath a very surprised shopkeeper, who was standing behind his cart of produce a moment before Tantus smashed through the large cart, sending cabbages and carrots everywhere.
Addle moved hard over and under objects, zigzagging through the city streets, never on a straight away that would allow Addle's speed disadvantage to become exploited. Even still, Addle was losing ground. The Tooth was slowing Addle down.
But it was so shiny.
Addle shot into a tavern, the two ugly things almost literally on Addle's tail. Chairs and Tables were smashed and strewn about the tavern as Tantus and Grumple followed in close pursuit. It was now or never. The spear appeared in the middle of the floor, out of Addle's grasp, as Addle sprinted into the kitchen, and through the kitchen, and out the other side into another back alley
As Addle ran, Addle listened for the close pursuit of a bloodhound tracker. They would have to be very good trackers indeed not to be thrown off by the strong smells of food in the kitchen, or the even stronger smells of compost in the Alley. If nothing else, the appearance of Addle's new shiny thing should catch them off gaurd a little, and If they pursued throught the kitchen, then there would be plenty of noise to give them away... -
Re: The Last War
#370Arthur awoke at the break of dawn. He was still shaky from last night, and he felt the urge to get to his house as soon as possible. As soon as he had made himself ready, he went downstairs and walked outside.
As soon as he stepped out, a brisk chill met him, and he shivered. At least it wasn't raining. He started to walk toward his house, winding through the city streets, when he saw a large crowd up ahead.
"What is going on"
A man in the back of the crowd responded "As I hear it, there was uh Demon an an Angel Dukin' it out here a while ago. Some nice lady got hurt by during the fight. She's still there"
Only now did the man look at Arthur.
"Hey, you is a doctor aren't ya. Well lets get you up there an see if she can be helped."
Arthur didn't really have a choice. The man had taken his hand in an Iron grip, and preceded to make Arthur's way through the crowd, yelling "Doctor, I got a Doctor here. Make way, we got a Doctor" as he did.
Arthur found himself rushed to Holly's unconscious form lying on the ground, and several men looking up at Arthur expectantly. He was annoyed to find this same girl again injured. It was a simple concussion, although she was bleeding a little from her head. He made a simple weave to mend the wound. Simple for healing anyway. Compared to modern spellcasting it was a work of art. Amazing in it's intricacies and complexities.
"She's fine. She will wake up in a little while. In the mean time, take her to an inn called the Blacksmith's Shoes and ask for a man by the name of..." he had almost said Dugal"...of Baldwin" -
Re: The Last War
#371Rai walked into a bar and out of the chill morning air. It would rain in four days. Nothing Heavy, but large enough that it would slow movement in the area. Rai could sense the weather. It was a gift, although, he had not been born with it. He had known people who had been born with the ability. The best of them could sense rain or snow a few days off. They made a handsome living predicting the weather for farming communities.
Rai's gift was much more potent. He could sense an evening mist a week off, predicting when it would start and stop down to the hour, what temperature it would be, and how hard the wind would be blowing. He could feel rain or snow for twice that time in the future. It was an ability that he had gained during his transformation.
He had a seat at a table and ordered some heavy food, and the strongest drink available. His period of atonement was passed... -
Re: The Last War
#372The first Trumpet sounded in Halbad. This was followed by another some distance off, and many more throughout the city. They signalled a grey alert. In other words, the town was being put under lockdown, and Halbad was in preparation for an attack.
Millar had been up before dawn, discussing strategy with his commanders. Already he had requested permission to surrender to the enemy army, however this request had been denied. So instead, they would give the incoming army a fight that they would regret for a long time.
OOC: I apologize for the brievety of this post, and the lack of detail. I am currently reading up on medieval military strategy so that I can at least vaguely mimic the strategies produced by a General. Dream, I suggest that you do the same, and then maybe we can trade military knowledge afterwards. -
Re: The Last War
#373OCC: Thanks for the suggestion. I have seen approximately 100 castles and walled towns in Europe and the Caribbean, and extensively toured about a dozen, plus some forts in the US. On the other hand, I write on this forum to have fun. "I've got my mind made up. Don't confuse me with the facts."  :wink:
IC: Captain Kraggis had not slept that night. His position on the North Side had been precarious, and nothing had made that clearer than when he found out a large number of horses had managed to enter Halbad from the far side of the city, the South Side. He would have to make some public display of "Corporal" Griswold's failure, but not right now. Kraggis needed competent leaders on the ground during this fight, and the men respected Griswold.
His free-riding cavalry squads had managed to locate a few farms that had not been burnt by the defenders, and a few small herds that had not been gathered into the city, so the Blackhand Riders wouldn't starve right away. But a siege would be tough, particularly if the late summer rains came early. It's always more comfortable waiting out a siege in a walled city than camping out in the countryside.
Still, Kraggis expected that as soon as the Legion got there, they could take the town. The long perimeter wall around Halbad was only about 20 feet tall at best, and lower in many places. It could be easily breached, and then the town could be occupied and the wood and metal in the buildings used to build siege weapons -- if the defenders didn't burn it all to the ground.
At that point, the Legion would have to assault the Castle in the center of Halbad. That would be a serious fight. -
Re: The Last War
#374Kras-minion Voramis rode past the leading troops of the marching Legion, past the heavily armed and shielded men leading in front with their spears, past the flag-bearers in their rows, past the lead trumpeters. "Where is Centurion Fellstrom?!" he hissed.
Strong men -- combat veterans -- quailed with fear, and pointed further back down the road. Voramis rode off in that direction to find the centurion.
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Re: The Last War
#375Baldwin looked at Holly, worry creasing his handsome features. She was a beauty, he could see what his brother saw in her. He glanced out the window at the men rushing to and fro, preparing for battle. He heard the sound of the horns, sounds that stirred his blood. He had no time for the luxuries his brother enjoyed. There was too much to do and not enough time to do it. Life was fleeting. Final judgment was at hand. He loosened the sword in its scabbard.
Almost on cue Rory woke up from the slumber he had fallen into after he related the tale of the battle with Fenris to his brothers. He looked at Holly and a smile split his face, "Hey luv." He kissed her on the forehead. She stirred easily wrapped not in the feverish sleep of one who is injured but the recuperative sleep of one who is recovering.
"I'm glad you're awake seeing this is your fault and all."
Rory frowned, "Wot?"
Baldwin gaze bored into his older brother's eyes with hot accusation, "You remember your promise? How you'd protect her during battle? How you tried to play word games with her promise to the king?"
He pointed at Holly's slumbering form. "Well this is what happens! During your sparring session with the demon she was buried by rubble." He got closer to Rory trying to pin him to the wall with the strength of his will alone, "What happens during the heat of battle? We're no babes wet behind the ears. We've been in many battles before an we know what'll happen."
Rory looked at his brother ruefully, he was speechless. Baldwin was right. If he concentrated on protecting Holly and being disciplined to that end, he may have been able to protect her, but he knew (and the battle with Fenris proved this) that playing the role of protector was not his way. Baldwin's temperment was more suited to such a task but he had made it clear that he felt she should honor her promise to the king and go nowhere near the fighting.
"Gates! Win."
"Yeah bloody gates!" Baldwin swore. "Take care of her, figure it out" He tightened the straps on his armor and slung his bow. Losening his sword he left the room. "I'm going to meet with Dugal and Mac. Rest well."
He left Rory alone in the deafening silence of the room. Alone with his thoughts and Holly... -
Re: The Last War
#376Antok was the closest city to Halbad. It was not as large, nor as rich, but as far as cities go, it was pretty successful. The two cities, Halbad and Antok, were actually quite close to each other. A man could walk the distance between the two cities in less than two days time.
However, the roads and trade routes that connected the two cities together passed through several small towns and villages that strayed far from the most direct route connecting Antok and Halbad.
What evil horror could possibly clamp the flow of business between two prospering cities? What Dark Terror could stop the force that was human progress, that was civilization? A force that leveled forests, destroyed ecosystems and ended all life but it’s own.
It had a name. They had a name. Collectively given by the same merchants and businessmen who hated and despised them. They were called the Fey, and they inhabited a large stretch of land that ended between Halbad and Antok. This stretch of land was referred to only as “The Fey Woodsâ€, for no other proper name could be given to it until it was conquered.
The Fey, of course, did not call it by this name. They did not call it by any name. Such a thing was an insult, and just as importantly, it made no sense. It made no sense why Humans, and elves, and Dwarves would call a piece of land by a name. What was the purpose. Did it mean that everything within those borders were the same, to be called by a single name? Did it mean that that land was somehow different from the land next to it, or that they shared a different life force? Did it mean that everything inside this land belonged to the land itself, to worship the geographical area within it?
No. Of course not. Fey were all free, and all individual. Not like the humans. These humans who gladly sold their souls to each other, and allowed themselves to be bound to perform another’s every whim. These humans who murdered indiscriminately all creatures and beings, only for the sheer pleasure of murder itself. These humans who constructed large monuments to the Gods of evil. These humans who cared not for life, but only for death.
These humans had so many foolish idea’s about the world. Like the idea that one had to wear restrictive bindings of cloth to prevent others from possessing their souls. Or the idea that they had to build monuments to a stone God, and live in them for years, and if they didn’t, they would become diseased and plagued, and nobody would speak with them. Or the idea that food was possessed, and that you could only exorcise the evil demons in it by sacrificing guardians of the earth, and draining their essence into the food until it was properly “cookedâ€, (the human word for “cleansed by the Guardians of the Earthâ€).
Any simple Pixie could tell you that singing prevented others from stealing your soul, and that food killed in the woods was already “cooked†by the Guardians of the Earth as soon as it was killed, without any sacrifices.
So , for these reasons, humans did not generally enjoy the journey through Fey woods, and for these reasons, direct commerce between the two cities was impossible, and for this reason, no roads or paths passed through the Fey woods.
So it was at this place, inside the Fey woods, where Kethal stood, with Koga sniffing the air for a scent. Kethal was unusual for a Fey. For starters, she was part Elf, and it was this part of her heritage that was responsible for her comfort while wearing clothing. It was also this part of her Heritage that afforded her the very fine quality set of Meteoric Elven Mail that she wore from head to toe.
On the other hand, she was also of Fey heritage. It was this part of her that caused her to despise sleeping indoors, and it was also this part of her heritage that granted her free access to the fey woods, including the treasure troves of items that had been long taken from countless adventurers.
In short, Kethal was something of a contradiction, and coincidentally, a legend in the Fey woods.
Kethal was currently taking an interest in the immanent attack upon Halbad. she did not actually care about the wellbeing of Halbad, however, Halbad was close to the Fey woods, and if the Legion managed to take the city, it would be important that they be properly acquainted with their new neighbors.
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Re: The Last War
#377Grumple saw the spear on the floor of the inn, and dove upon it. Wrapping both hands, well, maybe a hand and a half around it, Grumple was filled with momentary pleasure. "Grumple's spear. Yeh."
But something troubled Grumple. There was something missing, had Grumple forgotten something? Let's see, Grumple had been intently chasing after... the spear? Right. Grumple counted the (only remaining) finger on his right hand. That was One.
Wasn't there something else Grumple had been chasing? He looked around. He saw Tantus sniffing around here and there for something else. Grumple tried to count. One. Something wasn't quite right. No more fingers there; only a thumb, and everyone knows thumbs aren't much good for counting on.
Giving up on the dizzying pursuit of higher mathematics, Grumple shrugged and thought, "Grumple's spear. Yeh." and sat down to wrap the razor-sharp edges in a tablecloth and fashion a new flag. The puffy pink thief was forgotten for now. -
Re: The Last War
#378Voramis' night-black steed moved nimbly through the ranks of the marching Legion, searching for the Centurion in charge. There he was, shouting out orders, supervising the march in the middle of the column that stretched over two miles along the road to Halbad. "FELLSTROM!" hissed the mage. The centurion stilled his war-horse and looked out from under his visor. "What is your command, Kras-Minion?"
"Move these men faster! There is a threat coming our way" ordered Voramis, as his horse pranced back and forth, steam coming out of its black nostrils in the rising dawn.
"What threat, dark one?" replied Fellstrom. Word games were not to his liking at all, but he knew better than to dismiss the dark one. He had seen others do less and die horribly as a result.
"I will tell you when I wish. Follow my order!" Voramis hissed, and rode off.
In truth, Voramis did not know. He was not close enough yet to the undead army to see through the eyes of the many spiders that observed everything. But the whispers they had sent along their living chain had suggested certain things. Terrible things, even to one such as himself. -
Re: The Last War
#379At another place, a distant place, far, far away, Kang awoke. Awoke to a new day, as he had awakened to over a million other days. To the name "Kang". Many other names there had been, over the centuries, by many of the small ones. Many other names, all meaningless. Kang thought but seldom of this name. He thought even less of his true name -- and spoke of it to no one.
One eye opened, saw the glint of light off the gold, the gems, the carvings. These pleased him, as they always did. For no reason. Kang needed no reason for he answered to neither man nor god -- but he always had one. Before his eye, these things of beauty created by the smalls showed their total subservience to the might of Kang.
To what shall I compare this eye? Shall I compare it to the gold? It glittered more brightly. To the scattered thrones? It was bigger, bigger by far. To the stones in the cavern? It was colder and darker than the heart of any stone. It was a window into the depths of destruction that was Kang.
Kang flexed his enormous wings slightly, wings that could darken the sky. Kang uncurled his mighty tail slightly, the adamantine scales glistening. Dragging the awesome appendage even a bit caused the solid rock he lay upon to rumble.
The ear of Kang heard the lowing of cattle being herded toward him that morning, louder as they were driven closer and felt the rumble. They feared him. Good. Fear would make their flesh more pleasant in the teeth of Kang.
The teeth of Kang now began to tone, to thrum, in anticipation of the herd. And of the maiden. She, too, had awakened, fearful. Chained to the rock outside, as so many maidens before had been chained by the smalls. To give pleasure to Kang. He would have her for dessert. The perfect touch to feed his eternal fire, and satisfy his eternal hunger. To satisfy his teeth -- the long, obsidian, razor-sharp teeth of Kang. Harder by far than steel. Stronger by far than granite. Impervious to all but the most ancient magic.
The tongue of Kang ran over rows of pointed teeth; the smallest tooth was over two feet long. The tongue of Kang paused almost imperceptably on one that was broken. Part of the tooth was missing. THAT had been a fight worth remembering. Such a warrior as never was before, nor since.
So long ago, that Kang would have forgotten it by now, if he could forget. Forgotten, if it weren't for the tooth. The missing tooth. Who had found it? What had been done with it? Sometimes Kang could still feel it, wherever it had gone. For as with all of The Teeth of Kang, The Tooth still hungered.
Kang was pleased that his tooth was well fed these days.
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Re: The Last War
#380--------------
Not far, far away at all, but actually right here within an inn in Halbad, a troll named Grumple sat cross-legged on the floor trimming his grimy green toenails with the sharp, black edge of a certain spear.
Grumple was pleased. The blade showed a certain uncanny ability to draw blood from time to time, but it really was an outstanding toenail-trimmer!
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Re: The Last War
#381Things were not going according to plan.
Belzar was not amused. In ignoble fashion he was force to flee from the onslaught of evil far more pervasive than anything he had unleashed. The Strand was still powerful the plan for conquest was still approaching fruition but he waited to long. Others sought to snatch his hard earned reward away from him and the Strand ere it was even theirs.
This would not come to pass. The conquest of Palaten and Halbad was but a start. The start of an incursion into the lands of the Fey. Creatures inbued with magik, who would bow to the yoke of no one. But they would bow to him and they would know fear.
He stood in darkness as the faint dripping of water echoed off the walls of the summoning chamber. The sound, amplified by the natural acoustics of the room, were comforting and served to let him know that he had indeed escaped and was in the humble abode of his minion Malik.
He ascended from the brackish waters with a swish of swirling robes that hid a form winzened and bent with age but strong with eldritch power. He passed thru the door into Malik's bedchamber. Malik was tangled in his bedsheets, a sheen of sweat on his brow, the fine linen and plush surroundings offering him no comfort this night.
"Arise"Â The word was spoken with a voice like the screech of nails on blackboard.
Malik was awake instantly and on the floor with his forehead pressed against the marble tile. He trembled with fear.
"M-M-Milord." He stammered. "Your will is mine."
Belzar swirled with a rustle of fabric the color of dried blood. Malik flinched fearing a physical blow from the one he served. "You are a fool."
Malik dared not speak he feared for his life.
Belzar continued, "You busy yourself with this Black Dugal. Is your mind so small?" The words a sibilant whisper that echoed eerily. "I care not that he once stood at your right hand and that you wished for him to stand with you at our side and share in our power. Like a jilted lover your mind can think of nothing other than his destruction. He saw your true nature and instead of joining you he vowed to slay you and undo all of our work here."
Belzar began to pace the room, his footfalls silent and the bloodred cloak that obscured his limbs giving him the apperance of floating instead of walking.
"How goes the summoning of the Black Wind?"
Malik's throat constricted, how could he tell Belzar that there was no progress? That Fenris had failed his mission thus far?
Belzar gazed at Malik's prone form with derision, a hidden sneer splitting his ancient face, "As I suspected. I will summon the Black Wind myself. It will be unleashed, not upon Dugal but against those who would seek to undo what we have wrought. Powerful enemies that are worthy adversaries. Dugal is beneath you." The last was said with rancor that made Malik tremble all the more. Belzar looked thoughtful.
"You have been a good servant and I will give you an chance to redeem yourself in my eyes. I will summon the Black wind. You have 24 hours to finish Dugal and his brothers, especially the Wilder. Bring the girl Holly to me. I need a sacrifice to summon the Black Wind, she will do perfectly."
"Yes milord."... -
Re: The Last War
#382Corporal Realen Fox had talked. At the hands of the Gnurley Man, he had not just talked, but sang. Squealed like a stuck piggie, more like. Such pain could not be imagined; only experienced. The Gnurley Man was strong, and masterfully sadistic, creating pain in Fox's every muscle or joint -- then promising relief for some sought-after piece of information. He got it.
Then, he was gone. The Crows were gone, too. Fox didn't care where, as long as they weren't anywhere near him. When Fox awoke from unconsciousness, he was tied up near the dying embers of the Crows' campfire. He regained strength with a few hours of cramped and uncomfortable sleep, and then began to work on his bonds.
Once free, the exhausted Fox checked his many wounds, and looked for his boots, horse, chain mail or sword. All gone, with the Crows. So, with only a torn tunic to his name, the Black Hand's top scout and newly-promoted NCO stumbled toward the distant torch lights outside of the city of Halbad. He hoped it was his people, but at this point, he hardly cared.
-
Re: The Last War
#383The daylight grew and brightened. Kraggis was almost ready to breathe a sigh of relief. The General in charge of Halbad's defenses had not opened the city gates and marched out to attack the Black Hand at dawn as feared. According to the messengers on horseback, the Legion would be here today, and the Black Hand's position would not be lost.
The cavalry outside the dirty city walls had been successful. Some members of the populace had climbed down the walls and attempted to flee last night, and had been captured trying to sneak out to the forest beyond the city. Strangely, a few were captured attempting to flee the forest, claiming they were attacked by fairies, or woods spirits of some sort. They were easily run down between the city walls and the forest and captured. Whatever these civilians had possessed was now in the hands of the Black Hand, and they would themselves serve as entertainment to the soldiers.
Kraggis' men were sleeping in shifts, 4 hours at a time. The men, as usual, were tired, and could have easily slept on a rock slab. A soldier could sleep anywhere, any time, in any weather. It was what they did best. Besides eating. And, of course, griping.
---------------
That's when Corporal Realen Fox stumbled in; into the North side blockade of Halbad's highway; into Kraggis' forces. Fortunately he mustered the strength to shout out the pass-word before being skewered by the archers on guard. Then, he collapsed into their arms and passed out. He was safe.
Of course, safety is a relative -- and very temporary -- thing. -
Re: The Last War
#384Halbad was awash with activity. People hurried back and forth in waves, carrying food and supplies into the castle. Fear mounted like breakers crashing on the beach before a typhoon. The tempest was near.
With toenails fit and trim, Grumple found shelter from the storm in the inn's winecellar. Not that Grumple cared about the war/storm/whatever. Every day could be total war, or blessed peace for a troll, so like all trolls, Grumple found comfort where and when he could.
This morning, it was 6 bottles of excellent sherry. So far. Grumple stared at the label on the 7th. Grumple wondered if it was a good year. Of course, Grumple would have to be able to focus his eyes on the label, which he couldn't. And of course, Grumple would also have to be able to read, which he also couldn't.
Grumple figured that tasting it would be the best way to find out. "Yeh. A good year." A few more bottles, then a good nap. Now that was a morning well spent, impending doom or not. -
Re: The Last War
#385OOC: Hey guys. So far this has been a really awesome thread, but I think that this single day of downtime is putting a real break in things. Im going to wave my magic wand and make it nightfall,(which we all know can be slept away) and then maybe we can keep this ball rolling. Everybody should, of course, post aything that they did during the day, but I think that we should just say that the day passed without incident an be done with it.
if anybody disagrees with that, then you can just say so.
Presto Chango!!!
Wow. Night time already? Where does the time go? -
Re: The Last War
#386OOC: No disagreement. It's all good.
IC: Twenty men entered the Blacksmith's shoes. Beneath their cloaks they were bristling with weapons. They were all members of the NightWatch. Malik came in at the rear of the group, eyes hard, burining with fierce determination. They ignored all patrons and the barkeep, striding upstairs to the gustrooms with a singularity of purpose. They filled the hallway outside of the room where Rory and Holly were sleeping. The Nightwatch captain at the doorway looked back at Malik who responded with a curt nod. The captain knocked on the door... -
Re: The Last War
#387Tantus groaned, his face hurt horribly. It seemed as if he had been scalped by a bloody handed goblin war mob. A quick assesment with his hands assured him that while it seemed like his brain was exposed to the elements, his skull and scalp were quite firmly intact. There was a loud *clink* as one of the bottle rolled off of his lap and hit the stone floor of the cellar. A touch to his face reminded him of the burns there, and that much of the left side of his face was puffy and swollen.
A few feet away, clutching the spear, Grumple seemed deep in sleep. His lips and knobby teeth gnawed on the haft of the spear. Dreaming perhaps, of whatever trolls dream of. Thankfully he wasnt trying to eat the spear. That would have been interesting, with lots of troll shouting and cursing while the cursed spear bite back at the troll.
Something sharp and unpleasant poked into his gums. Tantus rolled the object around and spit it into his palm. It was a thick, flakey cresent...a troll toe-nail. Tantus slapped a thick hand over his mouth to avoid regurgitating the large quantity of wine, sherry, and possibly a few bottles of vinegar onto the floor. -
Re: The Last War
#388Odat was starting to get pretty drunk now. It had only taken a few casks of strong Ale to get the ball rolling. He was having a pretty good time, mostly because the barkeep, upon downpayment, had decided that he was better off just bringing the casks to the table instead of mugs.
As Odat sat drinking, he noticed some guys fighting. Or actually, some guys fighting some guy.
Now Odat wasn't thinking his most clear thoughts, but something about this seemed a bit unfair. Five on one was a bit much...maybe, he wasn't sure.
He stood up, the room spinning in its usual way, and stumbled over to one of the men.
"Urr, excuse me, err, curd you leave him alone, errr, if iz not too much trouble with you."
Aparently it was too much trouble, or maybe the man was just very drunk, Odat couldn't tell with the room spinning and all, but the man decided to take a swing at Odat.
Now, Odat wasn't Stone drunk, but he was drunk enough to take a couple of inebriated bar thugs.
The man's swing hit nothing but air as Odat stumbled backwards into one of the tables. The thug's follow through swing was swiftly met by a sturdy wooden chair, which crashed into his fist first, breaking his hand, and hit his face second, breaking the bar thug's nose and landing him on the ground unconscious.
And that was when the other four men noticed him. Odat fell head first into the next guy's closed hand, with the hard part of his head, and stumbling into the thug, he managed to roll off into a corkscrew head butt that left the third man on the ground with the wind knocked out of him.
The fourth of the Thugs came at him, grabbing Odat in a vice like grip, holding Odat for the last of the five to pummel. However, he soon found out that holding a stumbling drunkard is a rather tricky thing, as Odat stumbled backward, bringing his captor into the recieving end of a strong blow from his ally. The blow knocked him easily to the ground
The man released Odat from his grip, and the other man had no chance to react before Odat had his hand around a sturdy glass mug, and had that mug smashing into the third bar thug's right temple.....
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
It was for this reason that Odat arrived at the Blacksmith's Shoes when he did, holding a flask of his particularily potent drink and covered in dirt from literally being thrown out onto the street.
He stumbled his way upstairs and saw the sight of twenty-one men standing outside the door to a man's room.
"Errr, Ello. Was you all doin up hear at this late an our." -
Re: The Last War
#389Holly stirred slightly on the rapping of the door, She sat up slowly. She couldnt even remember coming here. She heared a drunken voice outside the door. she grabbed her cloak to keep her warm and also grabbed her sword you never could be too careful theses days. she walked to the door and opened it. Her mouth dropped as she saw the nightwatch standing waiting for her to appear or for one of the people in the room to appear. She swung her sword out, if they were after her or Rory she wouldn't let them take either of them without a fight. Suddenly she heared hoof's on the cobblestone outside, the window was open, she quickly slammed the door closed with the anguished shouts of the men outside echoing in the hall way. She ran to the bed shook Rory awake "I'm so so sorry to wake you, but we have to go." she then ran to the window flung it open widder and waited for rory to join her on jumping out of the window. -
Re: The Last War
#390OCC: Right. What he said.
I'll post later today. See you.
Callista, I'm glad you're back. Holly has become an important character. -
Re: The Last War
#391The door exploded under the weave of magik Malik hurled at it. The members of the NightWatch swarmed into the room weapons in hand. The plan was working just as Malik said it would. Holly motioned for Rory to join her at the window just as the clawed hands of the imp snatched her from the window sill. The cold night air hit her as the imp's wings beat with quick leathery flaps. Fenris' arms, their strength belying their small size held her tight bearing her upward and away from the inn and into the swirling winds.
Rory was not asleep he had been playing with the wood that composed the frame of the bed, using magik of course he released the bonds holding the wood together and so like angry neighbors the molecules moved apart...quickly. The resultant explosion of flaming spliters knocked the first five men approaching the bed head over heels; two dead from the concussion and three dead from the thousands wood splinters moving toward them fast enough to penetrate metal.
Plaster fell from the ceiling to the common room below. Five more men surged into the room containing Rory. Malik sent the other ten downstairs towards Odat. "Kill him!" He shouted. "And be careful he is more than what he seems!"
******************************************
The wind caressed Baldwin's cheek like a teasing lover. The crease of his bowstring across his lip he slowed his breath...
slowed his heart...
Boom Boom Boom
the imp was flying fast.
Boom.....Boom.....Boom
Holly was blocking his shot
Boom............Boom
The wind was blowing
Boom
The arrow flew from the bow as if it was alive. It flew across time and space over the rooftops buffeted by wind but Baldwin had accounted for that. So fast that it was slow it sliced through the skin of Holly's shoulder, blood blossomed like a spring flower. The wound was shalow it continued to travel, it's sharp tip sliding across her face just far enough away not to cut her open. Fenris saw the sharpened tip as it headed right for his eye. The demon shrieked in alarm and nearly dropped Holly. The steel tip hit his eye the force driving his head back... A nearly impossible shot.
Fenris plummeted earthward like a stone falling behind a line of roofs out of Baldwin's view. Dugal cheered, "Nice shot!" The two slid off the roof of the building across the street from the Balcksmiths shoes and ran towards where the imp had fallen. Baldwin was tight lipped, hoping Holly had survived the fall.
*****************************
The fall was a ruse. Fenris changed direction after he had fallen out of sight and continued his flight towards Lord Belzar as instructed. He whispered in Holly's ear, "Normal weapons cannot cleave demon flesh! Meeheheh!"... -
Re: The Last War
#392"Blessed is the name of the Holy One, annointed in the blood of the sacrifice, so that he cannot be harmed by the dark one." Tantus said, scooping a bucket of water out of a half-empty horse troth. A half asleep Grumple tottered along behind him, still clutching the Tooth. The stink of the imp had easily roused him from his gagging fit with Grumple's toe clippings. He saw the arrow fly, striking the demon in the face. A shot like that could have only come from Baldwin's bow.
But Tantus knew that the flesh of the infernal was immune to the mundane weapon of steel and wood. A few demons could be harmed by gold or silver weapons, and some sorceries were potent enough as well. But the power of the divine, even the weakest form was anathema to them. With a great heave he threw the water into the air, watching as it flew upward in a great shining sheet.
There was a strange refraction through the water, it shown with the light of the rising sun, with the golden hue of raindrops or morning dew that came with the promise of spring. Most of all it had a glow that the cleric could see, that even Rory might be able to see with his sorcerous sight.
All Holly could see was a sudden gout of water that soaked her to the bone, as well as splattering into the face of the imp that bore her. -
Re: The Last War
#393...And then the deafening death knell of Fenris shattered what silence was left of the morning. The holy water which was harmless to Holly acted as powerful acid to the imp, burning thru his skin and eating at bone and sinew. The leathery flaps of skin that composed the demon's wings ripped apart from the cartilige and bone of his wings it tumbled from the sky as Holly saw sky and ground change places three times in a way that made her stomach clench. Ligaments and tendons fell apart as flesh fell off bone like that of an overcooked fowl. Holly hit the steep pitch of a roof so hard it knocked the breath out of her lungs. Fenris crashed into a granite wall in a purple explosion that stank of sulphur. The ground rushed up and embraced Holly with sickening rapidity. She rolled fighting to maintain consciousness. And rolled to a halt at the feet.. at the hooves actually hooves of a horse that leaned down and licked her face. -
Re: The Last War
#394OOC: Hey Scrasamax. Rory didn't shoot the arrow Baldwin did.
IC: "Gates!" Rory swore, seeing Holly get snatched off the window sill. He ran to the window but three of the Nightwatch barred his path holding steel in their hands. His staff swung out like a snake and hit the first man in the temple before he could see it. The second one swung at Rory who sidestepped and hit his attaker in the center of the chest. He breathed from his center as he did it. grabbing Magik as he did so and channeling it down the length of the staff. The man flew off the tip of the staff and thru the window Holly had just been snatched from.
Had Dugal and Baldwin tarried a few seconds they would have seen him fall from the second story to strike the cobblestoned street head first. As it was they were already chasing Holly and the Imp and so missed the spectacle of the man's head smashing open to expose what lay within.
Rory spun fending off the blows of the third man with the staff he held which, made of wood as it appeared, should not be able to fend off the blows of the heavy broadsword the way it was. The broadsword weilder was thinking this as Rory's staff swung up between his legs doubling him over. Rory was slender but strong. Especially his legs. The kick to the man's face broke his nose and the orbital socket around his left eye. He'd live but he was out of the fight. That's when Rory noticed the whispered words, the shift of silk cloth the pungent smell of exotic spell components. Just before he heard the explosion of magik.
Then the power of the spell hit him and sent him spinning sideways to the wall. "Damn!" Sticky webbing covered the entire wall of the room. The wall he was pinned against. His staff had fallen free and lay on the floor next to him. His entire body was covered with webbing except for his face and that only because he had thrown his hand in front of it defensively as he got hit. This was not a Wilder spell. He looked at Malik as he approached him. This was the one Dugal hated so? Rory couldn't believe he'd gotten caught out by a "normal" spell. Malik approached him a triumphant smile on his face, wickedly curved dagger in his hand and the two remaining Nightwatch grinning behind him. "Well this is Rory McVey. The powerful Wilder Mage. I'm not really impressed. Any last words before I kill you?" Malik moved the curved dagger closer... -
Re: The Last War
#395The demon carrying Holly exploded in front of Grumple's eyes. Grumple looked with clear admiration at his friend Tantus. "How you do dat?" Grumple asked with a gutteral growl. Then he was off to help Holly.
Holly lay dazed on the ground by the horse, but she still saw that Rory was not out of the building. She pointed back at the window and gasped, "Grumple... help Rory..."
Grumple looked where she pointed, then sprinted as only a troll or a rabbit can, then climbing up as only a troll or a squirrel can, and looked in the window. There was a Bad Man, very Bad, holding a knife to Rory's throat. The Bad Man didn't see Grumple peer in.
Holding on to the wall with one finger of his right hand (but plenty of toes!) Grumple wrapped knobby knuckles around the spear with his left and heaved it in over the windowsill. The left-hand throw was not well made. The movement caught the Bad Man's eye, and he whirled around with his knife, blocking with the movement of a man skilled with rapier and dagger. He succeeded in barely deflecting the long black spearhead as it shot toward him, but one of the three edges slashed his wrist as it flew past... and into the chest of the man standing behind. The heavy point penetrated his metal cuirass as if it had been only a shirt of silk and he staggered backward. His heart -- wrapped around the jagged edges of the Tooth -- beat only twice before it stopped, and he was dead.
Grumple sprang in through the window as the Bad Man slammed his dagger into Grumple's shoulder, wrenching it out with a wicked twist. Grumple responded with a roar that stunned the second soldier who cowered back against the wall momentarily, but the Bad Man was not so easily impressed. He pulled back and swung again, but this time Grumple caught his wrist and gave it a twist of his own. Grumple's grip slipped on the flow of blood pouring out through the Bad Man's slashed chain mail and over his gauntlet. As it was, Malik groaned loadly as his powerful arm was nearly pulled out of its socket. The long curved knife fell to Grumple's feet. Grumple kicked the Bad Man half way across the room and grabbed the knife. Grumple had to help Roar-ree. With two fast swipes, Grumple slashed the webbing that held Roar-ree's arms, then started working on the webbing holding Roar-ree's torso.
Malik fell back, fighting back pain that made his vision go red, but he got to his feet. He put his foot on the chest of his dead accomplice and yanked the spear out with a sickening crunch and spray of fresh blood. Grinning, he swung the point around toward Grumple. "NO! NOT AGAIN" Grumple roared in trollshaw, left the knife stuck in the wall next to Roar-ree and swung a chair at the Bad Man -- who jabbed the spear at Grumple. The chair knocked the Tooth aside, but the Bad Man quickly corrected and closed in on Grumple, who was poorly equipped indeed to avoid being stuck yet again by his prize possession.Â
"Stupid monster, you fear this, do you not?! You shall feel it next!" The Bad Man moved in closer, weaving ornate circular motions with the point of Grumple's spear. -
Re: The Last War
#396The Legion had arrived. Rank after rank of footmen marched in formation down the hill and over the bridge secured by the Blackhand Riders. They split into columns and formed up in their regiments, then were directed to their various places on the battlefield. Captain Kraggis saluted the Centurion who appeared at the edge of the forest to the north, and Fellstrom returned the salute.
Kraggis started directing the Blackhand to positions of support. His forces should be held for raiding, and if necessary, for counterattack. Horses and trained knights were too valuable to be used for routine siege operations.
The ballistas which had been trained on the city gates were now backed up by catapaults being pulled along by teams of horses. Cursing, sweating men muscled the mighty machines into place. A wagon load of rocks and boulders were dumped on the ground beside each, and the crews started chiseling off pieces to make each boulder into an accurate projectile that would fly true and hit hard. Other men began to fell trees in the forest and fashion timbers that would be used for more siege weapons and defenses.
Viewed from the walls of the city, the flow of over 5000 troops over the fields around Halbad looked like a swarm of ants. Army ants. Preparing for war. -
Re: The Last War
#397Ten Night watch clutched their faces as they ran through the hallway in pain, their faces red from first to third degree burns that covered them. Four of them were still on fire from what was essentially a breath weapon.
A large portion of the alchohol in his system burned off, Rai felt a little more sober. He realized now the situation at hand. Rory and Baldwin were inside, probably in trouble, and he owed them a debt for their brothers actions. He could hear them fighting, and somebody roared a sound that could only be described as inhuman.
Moving quickly, the still somewhat drunk Rai charged into the room. Malik turned around just in time to be tackled in the chest, and Malik, as well as Rai, both flew out of the window onto the sloped roof.
The tiles of the rooftops were too slick to gain any traction. Both Rai and Malik grasped for something to get a hold of, but it was impossible. They slid uncontrolled down the roof and over the edge. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion then. Rai's hand reaching out to the edge of the roof top as he started to spill over, the openness of the air beneath him taking all of his security with it. He caught the tile it his hand, and grabbed hold with a vice grip.
Then, still in slow motion, the tile pulled out effortlessly, and Odat and Malik plummeted off of the rooftop. Fortunately for Rai, a horse broke his fall. and he found himself a moment later on the ground, unable to breath, the wind knocked out of him.
What was lucky for Rai, was also lucky for Malik, who glanced off of the horse differently, and crashed through the wooden troth. Malik however, had recieved the more gracious landing, and although he was soaked to the bone, he was also able to get back up... -
Re: The Last War
#398The horse screamed in agony as the tooth, falling from the sky point first slid between it's ribs and found it equine heart. It was dead before it's body hit the ground. Malik ripped the spear free in a spray of blood and was upon Rai in two long strides ready to raising the tooth to finish the monk off. Rory landed lightly on the slanted roof still covered with the remnants of Malik's web, White hair standing up on his head like a crown of thorns, eyes aglow with rage and magik. He held a brick in his hand, the sweet glow of magik flowing from him into the brick, heating it. He hurled it at Malik with all the strength in his body. The brick turned to molten liquid as Rory threw it and Malik lifted the spear to block the deadly projectile, in vain. As the superheated stone hit the haft it snapped in two the firery liquid striking Malik in the chest hard enough to knock him across the street. The blade of the Tooth freed from the shaft spun twice before landing point first on the ground taking three of Malik's toes on his right foot before he was flung away. He yelled in pain as he slid to the ground. Rory slowly descended to street level riding the flows of magik bringing the glow to his staff. Deft somatic gestures and the harsh language of spell casting left Malik's burned lips.
There was an explosion of snow and ice that appeared right atop Malik, who was still gravely wounded but he had at least cooled the molten stone. The snow had fallen into the street as well and Rory had paused, unable to see where Malik was... -
Re: The Last War
#399Addle had been watching this whole time, watching and waiting the chance to get the tooth back. It had really gotten to Addle that Addle had to drop the shiny thing. This was Addle's chance. There it was, the spear thingy, and shorter too so that Addle could get it. Lying on the ground, just waiting to be plucked.
Addle shot off towards the spear like a blur. Reaching down to pick up the spear, Addle hugged it's new found shiny object. Addle was happy now. Addle was also invisible now. This time however, two prints in the snow gave Addl'e position away.
Who had ever heard of snow at this time of year? -
Re: The Last War
#400Chaos, there were women falling from the sky, trolls scuttling up towers and fire and snow falling in the small square. It wasn't much of a square really, just large enough for a stable between several buildings. Tantus was close enough to feel the blast of cold from Malik's spell, and to also see Addle for a moment before the pink thing winked out of sight...with the head of the spear. Grumple would be unhappy.
Now the last time that Tantus had seen the little pink thing, his hindbrain had taken over. But that was not in the face of a wizard's duel, with injuried friends laying about. With a quick stride, Tantus snatched up the wooden haft of the spear, minus its blood thirst head.
Kas Naladact! He shouted, swinging the end of the weapon forward on top of Malik.