Freeform Archive · Legacy archive
The Last War
-
Re: The Last War
#401OCC: "Kas Naladact" indeed! Reminds me of someone who says "My life for Aiur!"
No? Just guessing...
IC: Surprise! Bad Man gone! Out the window! Grumple put down the chair, sat on it, rubbed his sore shoulder, and breathed a sigh of relief. That was close. Almost got the spear back -- wrong end first. At least Roar-ree was free...
GRUMPLE'S SPEAR! Grumple whirled and peered out the window. "Huh? Snow? In hot time?" That was new. It was hard to see through the swirling white blizzard, but he could smell burned flesh and hear the sound of Tantus' battle cry. Grumple stepped out the window, but slid off the icy shed roof, and disappeared all arms and legs a-flurrying in a snowdrift covering a dead horse's body, still flowing with fresh blood and gore.
Mmmm. Smells Tasty! Now THAT was worth the fall. Leg, fingers, and shoulder all cried out for fresh meat. Grumple's stomach churned with hunger. But, Grumple wasn't like other trolls (just in case you weren't sure). No, Grumple knew he needed to help his friends first. Friends are hard to come by.
Jumping up, Grumple looked around for the spear, but didn't see it. Didn't see much of anything but white from here. Grumple decided to head over through the white-out conditions to see if Tantus needed help. The noise of fighting (and the ice) was thickest up ahead... the fight must be very near... -
Re: The Last War
#402OOC - couldn't think of anything else off the top of my head and that was the first thing to come to mind. Maybe shouting Power Overwhelming! mghit have been a bit over the top. Also fixed my previous post to show that it was Baldwin shooting the arrow and not Rory. My bad. Tantus really wants to punt Addle like a pink football. -
Re: The Last War
#403OOC: Addle is very puntable :twisted:
IC: Electrical energy crackled about Malik's body as Tantus swung his makeshift staff with all the energy he could muster. The swirling wind and snow abated. Malik stepped from the drifting flakes, his skin grey and mottled like stone, but he moved quickly, his skin having the resistance of stone but not the rigidity. The wood shattered as if it had struck marble.
Malik grasped the front of the Bugbear's tunic and hoisted the monk's bulk with frightening ease and hurled him away. Tantus hit the ground heavily rolling away, the breath blasted from his lungs. He drew sword and dagger with a steely rasp. Magikal runes glowed on the blades with an evil green light. He stepped towards Rory, blades held low, muscles bunching and rippling under grey skin as he moved. He appeared slightly larger as if the stone flesh spell had made him grow in stature and strength as well as protection.
Rory knew no fear he stepped forward swinging his staff in a high arc. Malik blocked with an enchanted blade and sparks flew. He thrust the dagger in his other hand forward. Rory danced to the side, the blade ripped through cloth and flesh. His eyes flared and he sent a hundred flows toward Malik. The effect was as if he was hit by punches thrown by a hundred strong men at the same time.
If not for the spell protecting him Malik would have dropped like the stone he resembled. As it was he stumbled backwards. He took a step forward and two arrows, sped into the side of his head, blindingly fast, steel heads shattering on impact. Malik roared in pain, spinning towards Baldwin who was walking down the center of the street, firing arrows so quickly his hands blurred.
Three more arrows hit Malik in the center of his throat almost simultaneously. he staggered back swinging his sword and and dagger in defensive arcs. He blocked the next three as he walked toward the archer. Rory spun and jumped high landing with his staff smashed on the ground. The ground shook and Malik stumbled looking at Rory before the ground gave way beneath him. He sank waist deep into the mud the ground had transformed into eyes bulging in alarm as Dugal dagger spun from the shadows and buried itself to the hilt in his shoulder.
The spell was fading fast Malik's skin was returning to it's normal hue. Dugal ran towards his trapped hated enemy with bloodlust distorting his features... -
Re: The Last War
#404Grumple stood there staring, heavy jaw slack, standing still. The snow had cleared up. Grumple saw:
- Lightning
- Grumple's spear shattered and gone
- A 7-foot, 300 lb bugbear thrown aside with frightening ease
- A Bad Man with enchanted blades and stone skin pounded into the ground like a tent-peg
- Sparks, magikal runes, shattered steel arrows, other stuff...
...Grumple thought for a second (this took surprisingly little effort), and decided: Now was probably a good time for a fresh horse meat sandwich, after all.
You know, back there. Away from here. That sort of thing. Bread optional.
.
.
.
Grumple tiptoed carefully back to the dead horse and sat down on it. Tall Man was there. He seemed OK. Grumple brushed aside some snow, tore off a huge piece of bloody horse flesh, and offered it to Tall Man, who politely declined.
As Grumple dropped a stupendous slab of raw meat into his gullet, he thought, "Day not total loss".
-
Re: The Last War
#405Rory made an upward pulling motion with his hands. As a result visible glowing stands traveled from the mud surrounding Malik to the Wilder's hands. The mud quickly hardened to the normal consistency of the stone it had been prior to Rory's spell, trapping Malik.
Malik had more pressing matters to attend than extricating himself from his stony prison. He blocked Dugal's first strike then launched a strike of his own. The blade Dugal used to block, although strong Malkyrian steel, shattered under the impact of Malik's enchanted blade. Malik's weapon continued, the magikally keen blade slicing into Dugal's leg, cutting through bone and sinew. Dugal reversed the grip on his remaining sword and stabbed downward with all the strength left in his body. The sword point entered Malik's torso at the collarbone travelling downward like a determined explorer. The point ripped through heart and lungs. A welter of blood exploded from Malik's mouth as he thrust his enchanted dagger into Dugal's torso repeatedly, unleashing a spray of gore. Malik slashed Dugal horizontally, spinning him to the ground and opening his belly, entrails spilled as the McVey dropped to the ground. He tried to step away but his leg, mangled beyond repair, gave way. Dugal fell to the street as his swords dropped with an ominous clatter.
Rory lunged forward thrusting his glowing staff into Malik's torso. The dweomered wood passed through chainmail and flesh like wet paper. Baldwin sprinted forward and swung Final Judgement. The glow was blinding. Malik's head, separated from his body, flew ten yards before it fell...
-
Re: The Last War
#406Arthur, having made a sort of promise, had been heading back to the blacksmith's shoes after spending what was quite likely his last day at home. As he had approached the inn, a single flake of snow, dancing, fluttering, drifting through the air, landed on his shoulder and immediately melted.
Arthur looked at the snow with scepticism. It was like something out of a dream. What could cause snow at this time of the year? Realization hit him and he rushed foreward around the corner to see the final moments of Malik's fight.
"NOOOO!!" He cried. A hundred weaves, forming a perfect pattern, a pefect healing, went forth from him towards Malik, the more injured of the two. Rory could see them, and would only be able to admire the complexities, the intricacies, that came more and more second nature to Arthur everyday.
But no matter his skill, the powerful spell never touched Malik. Instead, not wishing to waste them, he redirected his skill towards Dugal. A chill cold erupted though Dugal. A searing wrcking cold washing him from head to toe. He shook under the cold of it, violent spasms taking his body, but his wounds dissapeared.
Healing was never a pleasant process. Cleric spells incorperated magic to make the host feel better, but Arthur's magic was not. Even if Arthur knew how to, he would not do such a thing. Healing should not always be free.
Arthur, finished with his spell, ran up to Baldwin and swung with all of his might. "I hate you!". Baldwin easily blocked the swing, and Arthur found himself in a very effective hold, unable to move without losing his arm. Defeated, Arthur simply collapsed to the ground
As his last stroke of justice, Dugal's leg had been healed, but only mostly healed. He could still use it, but each use would cause the pain that he had inflicted on others. In the cold of winter, it would ache terribly, and only the adrenaline of battle would be able to divert his mind from the limp that was now his, and was now permanent.
You see, all but the most powerful healing could only be preformed once. Finding a good healer the first time was very important for this matter. Arthur could have fully healed everything, but that was the job of a healer. A healer cures injuries, a medic keeps you from dying, a seemingly small difference, but an important one. Arthur, at heart, was a medic.
Arthur hated Baldwin. Hated, truly. He begrudged Dugal and Rory. But Baldwin had made that final stroke. The killing stroke that nobody could be brought back from. So Arthur hated Baldwin, this man who had denied him. -
Re: The Last War
#407OCC: Man, this has been some good reading! I was really worried about Dugal. And Arthur is really shaping up as an interesting character.
IC:
Grumple was glad the bad man was dead. That crack about Grumple being a "Stupid Monster" really stung. Monster, sure, but "stupid?" That was uncalled for.Â
Grumple tore off another long slab of horseflesh and swallowed it. Then, another one "for the road". Grumple took that chunk over to Tantus, who didn't look bad off, but might be hungry. Tantus took a piece. Grumple took some to Dugal, and even to Arthur. Both seemed really beat, but neither wanted a nice bloody hunk of meat even though it still had lots of hair still on it. Picky. Go figure. Grumple shrugged and ate it himself. Just trying to be helpful. Food makes you heal, especially when you eat green lily-jumpers.
The troll didn't understand why the little healer-man was upset, so Grumple went back to Tantus to ask. Tantus would know. Grumple munched thoughtfully and asked, "Bad man dead. Bad gone. That good, huh?" This philosophy stuff was really deep, but Grumple could handle it. -
Re: The Last War
#408Outside the city walls, thousands of men slept, exhausted after their long march. Many hundreds stood guard, with torches burning in strategic locations to avoid surprise attack. They were tired as well, but would do their job. An attack on the city would begin in the morning. -
Re: The Last War
#409In his few years of traveling Tantus the monk had encountered many things. High in the Great Woses he had dealt as an intermediary between a local tribe of orcs and a village. He had seen the great Stone Trolls, shuffling beasts the size of small hills, wandering across the glacial moraines of the Cold Mountains. He had even had the rare event of seeing one of the great serpents. Thankfully the creature didn't seem interested in him, and continued it's flight.
The knobby troll offering him a slab of horseflesh seemed quite normal in comparison. It is a well known fact that Bugbears eat horseflesh, as well as the flesh of fire-charred virgins. On rare occassions, the rumors were accurate. The bugbear generally did eat horseflesh, since few horses were stout enough to carry a bugbear, and most of his kind was well suited to long distance travel on foot. The count of eating humans, this too was true. Tantus wanted to laugh every time his kind were called cannibals. Tat was a patent falsehood. One bugbear would not eat one of own kind, anymore than a horse would devour another horse.
Silly humans tended to think of things in such a humancentric manner that is was amusing. Still, it was considered a mortal sin to the followers of St. Logan. Tantus had partaken of the eating of human once, and had spent a great deal of time in penance afterwards.
In comparison, chowing down on a piece of raw horse didn't seem like a bad idea. Being a seven foot tall, 300 pound bugbear meant that one wasn't used to being tossed around like a ragdoll. Especially not by some chicken-armed sorcerer.
"How 'bout some of that horse?" Tantus asked in trollshaw.
He chewed on the meat, turning his rather stunned attention away from the scene of the sorcerer's head sitting in the ice and snow of his own creation, of the febrile attempts of the healer to mete out justice to Baldwin.
"Bad man dead. This is good. Yes." Tantus said. -
Re: The Last War
#410Further outside the city walls, others also slept. Kethal however was not one of them. Not yet anyway. She had been studying the Legion, wathcing it's organization, watching it's formations, watching everything. The Fey were not much for war. Yes, they knew how to fight if need be, but they were not experienced like Humans in these matters. Kethal herself was not what one would call a military strategist, but she knew more than the Fey.
She would not be seen by anybody tonight. In the woods she was nearly invisible.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Even further still outside of the city walls, was another who did not sleep. Many who did not sleep. Hundreds who did not sleep. They all moved onwards, following and obeying that strange, haunting music.
Ambrosia walked ever forewards, ignoring the great pain in her warped, bowed limbs. She was catching up now, although she did not really know it. Time and distance had been lost to her. She did know that she would catch them, as well as all of Halbad. They would feel pain and anguish course through them. They would feel hope go from them. They would feel dispair enter them. But they would not feel death take them. Not that. -
Re: The Last War
#411The skinny man looked so sad. It made Addle feel kind of bad too. This was not good. Addle didn't like feeling bad. Addle decided to go get a tummy scratching. That would make Addle feel good. Addle took the new shiney, and went in search of a nice lady to scratch Addle's tummy. A nice lady that wasn't so near to so many ugly things maybe.
That would make Addle feel good again. -
Re: The Last War
#412Baldwin looked at Arthur as if seeing an animal that was new and not understood. As life faded from Malik's body the glow faded from Final Judgement. Baldwin slid the sword into it's sheath and looked at Arthur with eyes filled with pity and contempt. "You cry for the loss of evil?" He shook his head, looking at Malik's body then looking at Arthur. "If you condone his actions, what makes you different than him?" He walked away before Arthur could answer.
Rory helped Dugal to his feet. Dugal's victory was bittersweet. The deaths of the Deshii were avenged, but he felt little joy. He wondered breifly if Arthur had done him a favor after all by saving him. His body was still wracked with pain. He left his sword where it had fallen, making a silent vow not to pick it up again. A soul numbing weariness descended upon his body and soul. He looked at the shattered remnants of the other sword he had wielded in battle and felt as if something inside him had shattered as well.
Looking at Arthur he said, "I thank you for what you have done. You may go, or stay. It doesn't matter which. I am done with this." Dugal leaned on Rory, "Take me to Mac's house." The Wilder, his body bone weary from the night's spellcasting, did as his older brother said... -
Re: The Last War
#413Grumple saw something move. "Huh? Wha?" A small bit, black and shiny.
Grumple turned to watch the black shiny bit move down the street. Something familiar, there. Like just the point of a spear, dragging on the ground. Impossible. It left an occasional scratch in the dirt, sometimes making a "skritch" sound and leaving a tiny mark on a cobblestone.
Grumple knew how to stalk. Oh, yes. Fast but quiet. Disappear in the shadows when looked at. Oh, yes. Grumple got down low, and took off quietly and carefully after the "skritches". -
Re: The Last War
#414Sargeant Lars Ness was not a sargeant now. Lars Ness was not anything. Lars Ness was barely even Lars Ness.
Ness woke up from the delirium, the pain, the blindness, all caused by the bite of a spider. A tiny, light brown spider with a tiny dark brown fiddle mark. He could see, barely, from one eye. The fading light of a day gone... how many had it been? One? Two? A week? Ness did not know.
Ness felt a tree trunk next to him. He was barely able to stand, then, after steadying himself, he walked. It didn't matter where at first. He had to move. His face felt like putty, like dead meat. He reached up and felt it. Nothing. No feeling there. Was his face gone? Blind in one eye, arms outstretched, he tried to find his way back to the clearing, to the Blackhand riders, to his men who would help him.
He barely saw men ahead. Ness' one working eye fogged over and cleared a bit. "Help me!" he croaked. Men, blurry in his vision, turned toward him. "Over here! Help!" The men came to Lars Ness. Hope sprang up. They would help. He heard... music?
There was no help. The undead creatures poured down upon non-Sargeant Ness like a bad dream turned to nightmare turned to hell. Lars Ness fell under their attack and died, for a moment and for forever. Only the sound of the music continued... -
Re: The Last War
#415Rai, only slightly drunk, had seen the final moments of Malik's life. He watched with sympathy at this tragic scene. Death never brought happiness. Only pain and darkness. Unfortunately it was sometimes needed.
Dugal looked defeated, just as Aurthur did, but at least Dugal had his brothers, his family, to fall on. Arthur was alone in this. He had nobody to fall on, nobody to soften this blow. Rai did not understand why this death meant so much to Arthur, but he did know that Arthur was feeling the same way that Rai had once felt, back before he had changed his name so many years ago.
Rai, bruised, but not seriously injured, walked over to Arthur. He was quite a sight now. He was covered in dirt from head to toe. Blood spotted his coat, his own and others. He looked pretty much the same as he had several days ago when he had found himself first introduced to them.
Two days.
Almost a record.
He approached Arthur, and offered Arthur the only relief he had for Arthur's pain. It was a flask of his personal drink. It should do the job, for now. Hopefully in the morning Arthur would not remember a thing. -
Re: The Last War
#416Arthur's grief consumed him. He was unable to stop it. He was right there when it had happened, and he couldn't stop it. Didn't stop it. If only he had been faster. If only he had realized a moment before. He could have done something. If only...
Rai interrupted his thoughts. He pondered for a moment. He only ever drank wine. As a medic and healer, he always needed to be alert for emergencies. Even a single mistake in his weaves of magic could undo everything.
But how could it hurt. The damage had been done. Arthur accepted the offer, taking the opened flask and drinking a healthy swig of it.
Immediately he went into a coughing fit with the sheer strength of it. It was so strong. How could anybody drink this stuff. He took another swig. It felt almost like death it was so strong. He went to take another, but Rai took the flask away.
"That should be enough. Once that kicks in, you won't need any more."
Rai of course, took a large swig of his own medicine, and sat down next to the broken healer. Rai had been right. Already, Arthur was feeling tipsy.
"Here, take this" he said as he handed Arthur a medallion. "Once, long ago, it protected me from my pain. May it protect you from yours as well."
Ten minutes later, Rai picked up the defeated man, now unconscious, and brought him to his room in the inn. Rai placed Arthur on the bed, face down, hanging over the edge, with the bedpan directly underneath.
Rai had done what he could to defeat the shadows of the moment. Now it was up to Arthur to defeat the demons of his past...if he was strong enough.
Already, as Rai headed out, the world starting to spin around him, a crowd had started to gather around Malik's headless form, imbedded impossibly in the road. -
Re: The Last War
#417OOC: Oh man. We have some really dark stuff here. These last two pages makes me feel very drained. That post with Lars in it really made me want to create a DM miracle to keep him alive.
Oh yes, and also, I just wanted to mention to everybody here that this thread is officially the third larges thread on all of Strolen's Citadel (or at least thats what the stats page says). And its going for second. I'd say that that is quite an achievement. Cheers.
Anyway, on with the show.
IC:
Addle saw a pretty looking lady. She would surely give Addle a tummy rub. Addle was about to become visible when Addle remembered the spear. Addle liked the shiny thing, but on the other hand, Addle liked tummy scratches. Shiny thing, tummy scratching.
Hmmm.
Tummy scratching!!
Addle ran over and put the spear over in the alley where nobody would see it, and then went up to the lady for a tummy scratching, visible of course. Addle could go back and get the spear later. -
Re: The Last War
#418Holly sat up. Her head pounded. A horse stood beside her, Tigra "Holly my old friend. you have called me here and now one of my fastest is dead." Holly pulled herself up and walked to the side of the horse heaving herself onto it's back "i'll explain everything later" Holly said stiffly. The horse swung her head to the side and began to walk forward. after about three minutes Holly and tigra arrived in the battle zone. the air here was so thick with death and hurt, nobody was here anymore apart from the dead form of malik, which had not been taken from inside the road yet. Holly looked to the floor "take me to see the others. i fear that it shall not be long until the war begins" Tigra lowered her head and began to trot quickly to the left, there they were 999 horses all lined up and awaiting orders. Tigra whinnied and reared to tell the others that one of there kind had been killed, the others bowed to there front knees and lowered there heads to the ground. The sight was wonderful huge horses all bent down in prayer for the dead. Holly jumped down to her feet and perpared herself to speak "My Friends, I have called you here to fight in this war alongside me. i admit there will be deaths and injures, but the soldiers who ride upon you are strong and willing. I fear that the enemy is close and that it may be begin tomorrow maybe even tonight. we must be ready. we must be strong for halbad and FOR ME" Sound rang out through the streets a thunderous roar making everyone everywhere look around to see where it was coming from. the horses reared to there hind legs and whinned louder and louder as they perpared themselves for the fight. holly smiled weakly and turned to walk away. she needed rest Tigra followed her. "i will explain everything over a nice hot butterbeer" Holly smiled kindly again and walked towards 'The Blacksmiths shoes.' She pushed the door open when she arrived and in walked Holly and Tigra it looked strange to the others who were in there to see a horse walk through the door. Holly sat down at the bar and Tigra lead by her feet. Holly began to explain everything. -
Re: The Last War
#419Grumple peered out over the top of a rain-water barrel down some street or other near some kind of inn which was next to a horse-shoe-fixing-stable-shop. Grumple wasn't paying attention to those kind of details. Grumple was stalking.
Really good Stalking. "Good Stalk", thought Grumple. With some really fine Lurking in there, too. Grumple had practiced his Lurking a lot, sharpening his skill, honed it to a fine edge, really.
"There..." thought Grumple, spying his quarry. "Pink thing".
Actually, Grumple didn't have a word for "Pink". Trolls knew all the colors of the rainbow and then some, but it would be useless to ask a troll to tell you the names. A troll would describe a color on the basis of what displayed it. "Blood" or "New Grass" or "Mid-day Sky" or "Lava Rock". Trolls are very much in tune with their environment, but pay little attention to the "important" matters of men or other races, like art or politics, or making friends and influencing people by rubbing tummies.
Grumple actually thought something like, "Weak Blood thing." Followed by something that could be most accurately translated, "Must Punt!" Grumple was very much annoyed by the revolting display of the women who gathered around the puffy thief, cooing and giggling and rubbing its disgustingly soft belly as it lay on the street emanating pulsating waves of pleasure, affection, and good will. It was awful.
Thus distracted, Grumple wasn't paying proper attention to his Lurking. A man off to one side saw Grumple behind the barrel, looked closer, and screamed, "Monster! Help! Evil Demon! Kill it!" A group of soldiers marching to the defence of the outer city wall turned and yelled, "Stop! Halt! Die!" Some nocked arrows, others pulled out swords; all directed their attack on the evil monster demon.
Grumple's Lurking was officially ended when the first arrow appeared in the barrel next to him with a "Thunk!" Running was now the approved strategy. Grumple ran, with the soldiers behind him. He ran down the alley, and as luck (as usual, bad) would have it, somehow managed to trip over the point of something really, really sharp and really, Really, REALLY familiar. The barbed edges gripped his calf, but Grumple couldn't afford to sit down and pull it out with all those angry men after him. It dragged behind him, biting flesh, drinking blood.
Grumple bounded into the horse-shoe-shop and collided with Holly. She was sitting at the bar having a drink... with a Horse. ("She kiss troll. Go figure." thought Grumple, but that wouldn't be an exact translation, either.)
So, overall, one might say, "A blonde walks into a bar with a talking horse, a troll, and an angry mob...",
...but to Grumple, it didn't seem very funny so far.
That's the trouble with trying to tell a joke to a Troll. They just don't get it.
-
Re: The Last War
#420Holly turned her head and saw Grumple run straight into the Inn. Tigra jumped to her feet and whinned pawing at the ground. Holly raised a hand and the horse settled still fixing her beady little eye's on grumple. "whats going on?" Holly asked as five or more men ran through the door all holding swords in theres hands. Holly stood to her full height. She was suprisingly tall and slender and power seemed to radiate from her. "i hope you are not after my friend here." Holly went and stood in front of grumple shielding him from the swords. "he's a monster he shouldn't be" shouted one of the men close to her. Holly turned quickly towards this man her eye's blazing "he is no more of a monster than you are" she narrowed her eye's dangerously, and the soldiers backed away slightly. "He has done nothing to you so there for you should do nothing to him!" She swang her hair out of her face and reached down for her sword. "if you wish to kill him then you must go through me first. and i'm not having a good day today" her lips twisted into a sneer. The soldiers looked at each other and then looked at grumple and then back at holly. They turned slowly looked back once and then disappered through the door grumbling to themselves. Holly turned and smiled at Grumple "they shouldn't bother you again to soon." she walked back to tigra sat down and finished her drink. "so now do you understand why i had to call you?" Tigra made what looked like a nod. -
Re: The Last War
#421Grumple sat on the floor of the Blacksmith's Shoes and worked on the spear head. The Tooth had gotten a firm bite -- yet again -- even though it was only the barbed point of the spear stuck into Grumple's left calf.
Grumple scratched his knobby head with 1 and 2-half fingers on his right hand and wondered both how the spear had "gotten" him, yet again, and how he was going to get it out.
Hmmm. The horse looked pretty smart. Maybe a little too. It wasn't the least bit afraid of the troll, which was unusual. It seemed to look down its long nose upon the troll with a certain measure of contempt, as if it were all too clear as to which of them was further up the evolutionary ladder. (Under the circumstances, Grumple couldn't afford to argue the point.)Â
Gesturing here and there, Grumple grunted and grumbled a little bit at the huge animal, who seemed to understand him quite a bit better than most people do. Facing away, Grumple lay down on his side, and took a deep breath. Obligingly, the horse put its enormous hoof upon the 6 inches of wooden spear shaft that remained, pinning the 18" black spear head to the floor as well. Then, with a mighty jerk, Grumple yanked his leg away from the horse holding the spear head.
"Ow! Ow! OOOOWWWW!" Stones and bones, that hurt! But the spear was out. The horse made a condescending horse laugh, lifted its foot, deftly kicked the spear away, and returned to its conversation with Hol-lee. Grumple rubbed his leg, smiled, and then picked up the spear head once more. Grumple wondered how he was going to get a new shaft for the thing. It was just not the right size for a pocket knife. Not that Grumple had any pockets.
What was that? Grumple looked up and scratched his head again. He was almost certain he heard that horse order a bucket of beer... -
Re: The Last War
#422That night, Addle was in heaven. A dozen or so pretty ladies had scratched and rubbed and petted Addle for so long, Addle couldn't practically remember what had gone on that day. This wasn't an unusual event, but it was always well recieved.
Addle wound up going home with a nice lady who wanted to keep Addle for herself. That was OK with Addle, who was just going to sneak off later anyway. Ah, life was good to Addle since Addle had left the woods, although, something was definately missing. But not enough for Addle to go back.
No, Addle liked warm beds, and warmer ladies. And being scratched. And shiny things. And...well Addle liked a lot of things about living with lots of humans. In the woods, there weren't beds or Ladies, or being scratched, or lots of shiny things.
But even without all those things, Addle kind of missed the woods that evening as Addle slept in the bed of the nice lady, much to the dismay of the ugly guy who slept there too.
-
Re: The Last War
#423General Millar sat in his study with a hard drink in his hand. They would invade tomarrow, and he had no idea how he would stop them. Yes, it was true, he had battle plans, and strategies for the coming day. But he was really just stalling.
The Legion with their uncivilized tactics had not given everybody the chance to get inside the castle, and the nobles didn't really care because they didn't really care as long as they had their food stores. They knew that with Antiok not far off, they could stall and stall, and eventually reinforcements would arrive, even if the town had all been killed. After all, there would be plenty of men from Antiok who would be glad to find new jobs in Halbad.
And what was with those Damned horses. As if he didn't have enough troubles right now. It was a real shame that he hadn't had a year to have the horses trained. A thousand cavalry units would be pretty much unstoppable. Unfortunately, training a horse takes time, and Millar had none.
"Cheers" he said as he raised his glass to the wall. "To getting killed by a superior force."
And he drank. -
Re: The Last War
#424OCC: POG, I have a question. What are your plans for Belzar? I don't mind if you use him; not at all. But, he's supposedly behind the attack upon the city, and there he is IN it. (!) So, I will play on, and if you will, let me know in any one of your imaginative ways what the heck is going on! :wink:
IC: Captain Kraggis sat back in the saddle, arms folded, on horseback behind the catapaults, which were behind the archers, which were behind three phalanxes of spearmen, which were behind the berm wall that had been hastily dug. All facing the north gate. At the southern gate, a similar force was arrayed. There were other attacking forces deployed around the city as well.
Kraggis was pleased. The Legion was disciplined, capable, formidable. The men had been rousted before dawn by the bugles and were up and ready to attack within a few hours. Breathtaking speed, and it was the reason the army was feared throughout the land. No defender ever had adequate time to prepare, when an attacking army moved this fast.
Centurion Fellstrom gave the order... "Attack!" Burly men swung sledgehammers and knocked the catch-blocks on the catapaults. The steel-reinforced wooden beams swung upward, groaning and screeching as they accelerated through their arcs, levered with enormous force by slab after slab of iron bolted to the counterweights. Each mighty mechanical arm held in its hand the largest boulder 10 men could wrestle into its grip. The hand -- actually carved in the shape of a clawed hand by men who took pride in their work -- flipped the boulder into the air like it was a pebble. At the command, literally tons of rock from a dozen of the war machines flew hundreds of yards at hundreds of feet per second toward the city gates in graceful curves, barely visible by the glinting rays of a new sunrise.
The boulders smashed into the gates and the guard towers, splintering the wood of one of the towers like it was made of toothpicks, spilling brave defenders to their deaths many yards below. The gates were cracked in places, and pieces broke off, but they held. A cheer went up from the defenders... but a few voices were silent as they watched over the wooden and stone outer walls of the city.
They watched, and could see in the cold light of dawn that the sweating catapault crews were already winding down the huge machines for another round, and new boulders were already being muscled into position.
-
Re: The Last War
#425OOC:
Dream. It seams that you and I are locked in a game of chess. But here there are no rules to protect you. You have numbers and I have the home turf advantage. Let us see what devastation I can cause. Mwahahaha.
However, all that aside, I have surprises that I have yet to unleash. Ones that you have yet to cope with. All that I ask is that you understand that those ideas of mine will change the flow of battle. Standard rules of roleplaying here. Don't assume the outcome and neither will I. I have put a lot of thought into Millar's strategy, and I would hate to have it ruined by a single post that says "The legion marched into halbad and killed half of the defending forces"
I know you wouldn't do that, but for my sake, don't discount anything that you wouldn't expect. A safe bet would be to post what you plan to do, and let me post what I do in response. I think that we are both mature enough to create our own casualties. Of course, when in doubt, PM me.
Meanwhile, to the rest of the players here, Most of the real fighting will happen inside of Halbad. The legion will eventually get inside, and the process shouldn't take too long, but if you do go outside the city walls, understand that you will likely be attacked from both sides unless you clear it with Millar first.
I suggest taking the time to prep. Holly, I don't know what you plan to do with those horses, espescially since they have no riders to go with them. You can Pm me about this, or just post anything that you want (within reason of course), but they are pretty much stuck inside Halbad now. -
Re: The Last War
#426Millar watched as the legion distroyed his wall. He chuckled to himself. A total waste of artillary as far as he was concerned. Millar had never counted on those walls to hold off the Legion. No, he had really stretched the imagination for this one.
They could have fought fair. They didn't want to. They could have given proper warning. They didn't want to. They could have sent somebody over to discuss the terms of surrender. They didn't want to. They could have played by the book. They didn't want to.
Well that was fine by Millar. If they wouldn't play by the book, neither would he. He would use every trick in the book, and even more that the book had never thought of, to make them regret fighting this day.
He basked in the knowledge of what they must be thinking as they knocked down that wall, only to reveal rubble and debris one hundred feet thick. This devris would slow the enemy army to a crawl getting inside the city. Horses would have to pick their way across with painful slowness. Heavily armored men would have to walk at a snails pace to avoid falliing over. Lightly armored men would make a brisk jog at the most, and they would have to be watching the ground the entire time not to slip on some gravel, or a piece of rock that could easily roll out from under their feet.
The best part of this whole thing was, that while they did this, they couldn't look up. Up where arrows would start streaming down upon them by the hundreds. Dead bodies would only add to the debris. Looking up meant not looking down. And not looking down meant not moving at all, or falling down, subject to the arrows. The arrows and the rocks falling down from Millars own catapults. Large rocks were not the answer. Small and deadly. That was the answer. -
Re: The Last War
#427Jack was sweating as he was perched in the rigging of one of the trebuchets. In a few moments, the barage of Halbad would commence. Jack couldnt help but admire the craftsmanship that went into the construction of the war machine. Even the sling itself had been shaped into the form of a giant claw. It was almost going to be a shame to see it come to ruin.
He waved to some of the other Crows, those who had survived the imp's assault back in the city. He had counted his losses and decided to do what he was best at. He was going to be a pain in the ass of a larger force. The walls were a killing ground, the ground was going to be red with blood. Not going to be his blood.
The daggerwork was quick, half cutting into several of the support lines. He hopped down, and saluted one of the other Crows, the Gnurley Man. The Gnurley Man threw the lever of the trebuchet and with a great whoosh, the massive beam began to rotate, bringing it's load of stone around for a heavy swing.
The ropes creaked as the load shifted, the beams groaned as the dynamic force rose and reached it's apex. Then there was a problem. Now, less than two seconds from pulling the lever, there was a catastrophic failure. Two of the guide lines snapped, and the entire crossbeam faulted. As the main beam met the crossbeam, in a normal firing, the beam would have come to a full stop, hurling its payload hence to the city. This did not happen.
Instead the crossbeam snapped. The eight foot length of wood, weighing as much as three full grown men, flipped through the air. The main beam pole vaulted foreward, smashing its payload into the ground approximately 30 feet in front it it.
The Crows were already escaping, slipping away in the chaos. Several men were wounded, and in addition to the completely destroyed trebuchet, the war machine next to it had been damaged by the flying crossbeam.
(OOC - Not really going to effect the outcome either way, but its going to muck things up for the army) -
Re: The Last War
#428Grumple heard the outcry in the city streets. "War! The Legion is here! The gates are under attack!" Screams. That kind of stuff. It was probably all very important.
Of course, what was more important was a snack. Since no one was looking, Grumple took the opportunity to liberate a "head" of cabbage, and proceeded to put it to best possible use. Down the hatch. Looking at his hand, the two missing fingers were already half grown back. "Good thing not my head," thought Grumple. "Head!" "Head!" "Ha, ha!" thought Grumple, pleased at his wordplay.
No use trying to tell his joke to anybody there. "Humans don't get it", thought Grumple.
Grumple wandered into the blacksmith's shop next to the inn to see if there was something there to help repair the spear.
-
Re: The Last War
#429Mac lived in one of the tallest structures in the city. His family, his wife all eight children and sundry pets had left the city long ago. Dugal was done, even if his injuries weren't as severe as they were, he had no heart for the comming battle.
Baldwin told Mac to take him away.
The two escaped, where others would have been caught by members of the attacking army or by the defenders of Halbad. It should be noted that Dugal was still a hunted man.
That left Baldwin and Rory. The latter was sleeping, wrapped in his oversized cloak, stark white hair the only part of him visible. Baldwin looked toward the battle at the gate. He could see the arc of the stones from his high vantage point on the roof of Mac's house.
The McVey's were partial to roofs.
He sliced a piece of cheese with a small knife and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly. There were a lot of soldiers. This was a fool's errand they were caught up in. Dugal and Mac were safe. He thought fondly of Yas and Yancey. The two refugees from Palaten had fled with Mac's family so they'd be safe as well.
This was a fool's errand. One would have to be daft to think they could even survive the battle much less win. A smile fought its way to Baldwin's face as he loosed Final Judgment in its scabbard.
If Rory was awake to see it he'd be proud...
OOC: Hey guys. I'm looking forward to seeing how this battle is going to play out. I'm going to Vegas for the next couple of days. Wish me luck. Even if I lose I'll just be happy to be someplace with daylight and no snow. Anyway it'll probably be Monday before I post again. Dream, I'm sure Belzar will appear at just the right time to throw a monkeywrench in the defender's plans... :twisted: -
Re: The Last War
#430"$#!+ !! Kill Them!" thundered Lieutenant Braxin in charge of the trebuchet company. "Catch those &%$!@++ and bring them here!" It was no use. The group of outlaws were gone like the will o' the wisp. It was beyond amazing. How did they get into the camp and out again through all those guards and soldiers without being spotted?!!
The war machine was flipped over, and would take all day to repair. Another would be down for an hour. Three men dead, and two seriously hurt.
"GET TRE-2 BACK UP!!" he roared. Fellstrom would not like this.
------------
The catapaults had a higher rate of fire, due to their relative simplicity. At that, they took several minutes to reload and reaim. The trebuchets had the advantage of longer range and a larger payload, and stood further back from the city gates, nearer the forest. Probably where the insurgents had crept in from. These machines were more difficult to aim as well, as the load swung through a double-arc before being deployed. Still, they were pound-for-pound the most awesome constructs men had come up with to date. A boulder the size of pony weighed over 7000 pounds and hit with the force of a small dragon's tail. Each successful blow to the gates was knocking off huge chunks of wood. They would probably collapse by 9 hundred hours. Right on schedule.
The phalanxes of spearmen, 800 strong, were forming up -- in a loose formation now in case counter-strike catapault action. Their heavy tower-shields were embossed with the sign of the golden fist of the Emperor. Each carried the broad-bladed pike which could be thrown upon command. Otherwise, the plan would be to march in as a spiked wall and clear the way through the gates. They also carried the standard short sword for close combat.
Behind them, ready to run in, were 400 swordsmen with round shields, more lightly armoured, but faster. Behind them, were 400 archers, whose heavy longbows could pick off defenders at nearly 100 yards, and could be effective at even greater ranges if fired en masse.
The first siege tower was now rolling up into position. A dekm of archers scrambled up it to get to the same level as the defenders on either side of the gates. They started to heave a ballista up to the top as well, using a block and tackle.
Centurion Fellstrom wanted to get into the town as quickly as possible, and take advantage of its resources. Food, materials, new recruits, women; it was all fair game. That was phase I. Capturing the castle in the center of town would be a greater challenge. -
Re: The Last War
#431It did not matter to Millar. The main road had also been covered by rubble and debris in preparation of the attack. The Siege tower, while being useful in overcoming standard wall defenses, were useless against his unusual, unorthodox defense.
The Ballista's barely concerned him. What had once been counter tunnels at the edge of the city, now protected the majority of his men from long range fire.
To Millar, it was just a waiting game until the Legion finally decided that they had what it took to storm the city itself, through the debris field. -
Re: The Last War
#432OOC: the horses fight alone unless someone wishes to ride them they will fight when the army get into the city. oh and one thing you can kill as many horses as you wish as long as you do not kill Tigra.
IC: Holly spun around in her seat as she heared the first attack begin. She looked deeply at Tigra "they do not need you yet. You must wait intil they manage to get into the city and then you do what you have to do. I have to go i will meet you when the wall is almost down." Holly smiled and walked out of the Inn. Holly pulled her hair into a tight bun, pulled her cloak over her head, put what looked like a black mask on with eye holes and walked towards the gate. While she walked she pulled a small box out of her pocket threw it in the air and caught it, but it wasnt a box anymore a long slender golden bow was held tight-gripped in her right hand while a long gleaming silver sword in the left. This was it, her revenge and nobody would no it was her. she slipped carefully past a few soldiers running towards the castle to warn the king that the attack had began. she pushed herself against a wall as a tall beefy man walked straight past her towards the wall holding a sword. alot of good that's going to be against arrows She shook her head and carried on towards a secret place she knew. she walked quickly down and alley and stopped facing on of the outer walls a part which had not been smashed, a she pressed against a stone which was darker than all the rest. A path way appered in the wall and she walked through. the darkness pressed against her eye's but there was a light up ahead, a small slit was seen in the wall. The slit would not be able to be seen outside even if right next to it, but it was big enough for a arrow to fit through with ease, and for a person to see there target. Holly put the bow close to the hole. looked through. pulled the string back. She aimed for one of the men in the front line. ping. the bow fired but nothing flew through the air. There was a whistling as nothing came closer and closer to it's target. Some of the men would look around as the soldier flew backwards and land with a thump on the ground. Slowly and mysteriously, a long slender golden arrow began to appear in the mans chest where his heart should of been. the power of the arrow had thrown the man backwards and pierced his heart and came out the other side. kraggis would probably recognize the arrow if he was in palaten at the time of the battle. and he would probably know who it came from. Â Â -
Re: The Last War
#433Although he got some breakfast, Corporal Realen Fox didn't have much time to recuperate from his injuries. Kraggis had taken one look at Fox as he reported to the the Captain, and immediately said, "Fox, you've been in that city before. Take a dekm and get in there again. Disrupt their forces and get those gates open. Dismissed!" He backed this up with a stony stare. "I said, Dismissed!"
Fox trudged away. "So much for healing", thought the corporal, wryly. "I guess I can heal after I'm dead". He went over to one of the infantry squad commanders; Corporal Fralen. "The Captain says I need to take 10 men into the city." The man looked at Fox like he was mad. "Wha'? Jus' like dat? Kraggis thinks you'll jus', wha'? Blow ova' da wall an' get in? Go to, man!"
Fox stood there, shrugged once, and waited. Corporal Fralen needed a second to sort this out. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he could follow orders. As it turned out, it took a few seconds...
"Yah, righ', if Kraggis says" Fralen acknowledged. He turned and called to his men. "BURNS! SMITHY! GET 8 SOBs FOR A SUICIDE MISSION!! GLORY AND HONOR, THAT $#!+ !! GET TO! MOVE!"
-----------------
Back some distance from the front line, and out of counterattack range, Captain Kraggis watched the gates as they were chipped down. He had a strange device that his men did not understand. Actually, he didn't understand it either, but it worked. It was a collapsable tube with a glass disk in each end; one larger than the other. When he pulled the tube open, he could see a far object like it was up close. He had "liberated" the magical device from a wizard's tower long ago, and like his spear and other magical objects, used them to augment his power and prestige.
Like his spear. Yes. The spear. His spear. The Tooth. It was near. It called to him. He wanted it.
Men came by from the front line, carrying a dead spearman from the front phalanx. The man was dead from an arrow. Kraggis bellowed, "What are you fools doing that close to the wall?!!"
The medic said, "We're all out of arrow range, sir! Bolts, too. We don't know what hit him!" He handed up a strange golden arrow to the Captain. It was not quite wood and not quite metal. It shimmered in the morning light as Kraggis turned it back and forth in his black gauntlet.
"CURSE THAT B!+(# !!!" he exclaimed. "SHE'S HERE!!" He swung his arm to throw the arrow away, thought better of it, and stuck it into his saddlebag.
"It's one woman, do you hear, one WOMAN! That Blonde Amazon brat, Mayberry, or whatever she calls herself! Any man who brings her to me in chains gets a Silver Crown!"
The word spread fast. Kraggis wanted a blond woman bad enough to pay real money for her. Every soldier now had TWO reasons to get into the city and grab a blonde. -
Re: The Last War
#434In the blacksmith's shop, Grumple found several interesting weapons. The rack of swords was empty. The battle-axes were also gone. But there was a crude mace on the ground, a real head-crusher. Grumple picked it up and knocked it against his noggin with an audible "Klunk". Yep. A real head-crusher.
Dropping it, Grumple wandered over to the forge. There was a steel rod that was partly drawn through a die from a bar of steel; now cold. Grumple knew the best spears had hollow tubes for rigidity. He had seen them, long ago, back at the shiny city (what was its name again?) where the smith-man made jousting lances for the best knights... but this would do for a spear shaft. Grumple picked up a hand axe from the tool box with his left hand and whacked at the steel rod for awhile. It broke free from the die and the cold bar, although the axe blade looked like a grax had chewed on it. Now Grumple had a steel rod about 4 feet long, and a black spear-head with some wood sticking out. How to join them?
This was getting really technical. Maybe Grumple could find someone to help. -
Re: The Last War
#435Tantus milled about in the interior of the city, fighting the urge to leave as best he could. There would be wounded to tend to, and there would be a great number of them. He thought of fighting, but he couldn't. The imp had been one thing, it was a minion of darkness, something he was sworn to combat. But this was war, and no matter how brutal and ugly it was they were men. They were not demons or unclean monsters. His vows...they were his strength and his weakness.
He followed the sounds of clanging and crunching and found Grumple again. The troll seemed taller than before, but he was eating again and didn't have the spear in his back weakening him.
"I see you." Tantus said, sliding into comfortable Trollshaw. "Maybe we can fix that." he said, gesturing to the head of the spear and the length of iron the diminutive troll was holding.
*****
Jack stood back and admired his handiwork. Two war machines down, that should be enough to pop out a vein on the commander's forhead. But it wasnt enough. That was his hometown that the men of the legion were bombarding. The Crows had already made their escape, several of the men embedded themselves in less organized sections of the line.
Next to him, the Gnurley Man made a wry smile, nocking an arrow into his yew bow. He drew the feathers back to his ear, letting his sight slide down the length of the shaft. The beam of ash wood was as straight and true as his body was bent and corrupt. He saw his target, an officer among the archers.
The arrow leapt from the bow, crossing the distance between their position and the half-armored man.
UnderCaptain Seikos raised his hand for the archers to prepare arrows for a counter barrage. Range wasnt good, but the wind was beind them and there was plenty of ammunition. The Gnurley Man's arrow peiced the thin sheet of boiled leather plate the captain wore, punching through aorta, the artery that fed blood to the heart. Seikos never knew he died. There was only a sinking cold sensation as he fell from his horse and hit the ground.
Jack and Gnurley man vanished back into the woods. -
Re: The Last War
#436Holly stood in her position and aimed again that should get his attention she thought as she fired another two arrows hitting another one of the front line spearmen and the other arrow effortlessly winding it's way to one of the second line spearmen "Ha it shouldn't be long now before they really want to get into the city" Holly sighed she knew that no matter what they did they were still outrageously outnumbered 1 to 5 and it wasn't good. Even if the horses were here they would be able to kill a few of this mighty army but not all. never all. she shook her thoughts away and perpared another arrow, she would get her revenge or die trying. She took her aim this time she aimed for one of the back line. She pulled the string back as far as she could and released. The magic arrow cut through the air as if a knife through butter. some of the soldiers would feel the air rush past there ear as the arrow bent itself to get to it's target. True hit once again. the arrow smacked straight through his head embedding itself in his brain, the spearmen fell. other around him now began to move restlessly. Holly heared a distant rumble "Report to kraggis for god sake report" Holly smiled evily that was three more down not many but three less to fight. -
Re: The Last War
#437Dust filled the rubble filled road into Halbad as the gate twisted off of it's hinges. The impact of the last Trebuchet had knocked the gate of all but the bottom hing, and the weight of the gate did the rest.
Millar now watched, and hoped, and prayed. He knew that even his stratetgy was doomed without support, and unless he was mistaken, there was none to be offered. Not in time anyway. There were just too many enemies. Hordes of them.
He was curious about one thing. Two of the enemy Artillary had been destroyed. Normally this would not be too surprising because artillary was always dangerous and likely to break at any time. It was rather common for modern Artillary to break while being used, killing the people next to them. However, they had been next to each other, both in distance and in time of destruction.
Whatever it was, Millar was grateful for it. Aside from enemy numbers, the Artillary was his biggest problem right now. Catapults and Trebuchets were grossly inaccurate, but that might not matter. A little luck was all they needed, and his men would be taken down quickly.
It would be a hard fight. -
Re: The Last War
#438Holly watched as dust flew each and every way. she turned away from the slot in the wall and walked towards the opening in the alleyway. She managed to slip out of the gap without being seen and walk all the way down to the bottom of the street where round the corner she found all of the horses lined up waiting, tigra in front line. she lowered her head to face Holly and sighed "it's going to be a hard fight and you know it. we won't win you know that too don't you!" Holly lowered her head and looked to the floor "yes i know this but we will put up the best fight we can" Holly raised her head and she stood up straight to her full height. she made sure her mask and hood were still up and she pulled herself onto tigras back. She pulled her sword out of it's holster and held it in her right arm. her stronger arm. she held it high. and she held it proud. she would delay the army as much as she could before they could get to the rest of the army. Tigra reared and the other horses followed suit. they all seemed to march round the corner. most of these horses used to be old war horses. to old or too hurt or just ran away. they had join the group over the years and gradually they grew and grew they all knew there would be a time when they may just fight and not return. but they were ready for this. they had been for many years now they had felt it coming. And now it was the time. -
Re: The Last War
#439As the left half of the north gate into Halbad groaned off its remaining hinge and fell with a crash, an enormous battle cry burst forth from the waves of men standing outside in the fields down the sloping grassy fields. They waved their weapons in the air and beat upon their shields with deafening clanging. The order "FORRRRWARRRRDD!' was heard, and the ranks closed and the first line of spearmen marched forward with heavy shields up and glinting. Their highly polished surfaces were angled to catch the rising sun in the east, and reflected it with merciless savagery into the eyes of the defenders lining the tops of the walls, from 10 to 30 feet in the air. In response, those on the walls without bows quickly tried buffing up their shields and reflecting back what sunshine they could.
Those men of Halbad that had bows were letting fly with volley after volley of arrows into the marching ranks. Some spearmen fell down and were trampled by those behind, but most were undamaged by the arrows -- although the shields on the front lines were starting to look like the backs of porcupines.
The siege tower rumbled forward. From its vantage point 40 feet in the air, the archers were firing off long black arrows with iron broadheads. From time to time, the ballista was wound tight and an eight foot 30 pound black spear flew out over the 200 feet distance and slammed into the ranks of the defenders with terrible force, penetrating the thickest shields and hastily erected barricades like they did not exist. Screams and cries for aid rose to the heavens, and the heavens did not reply.
One last volley of rocks from the catapaults and trebuchets flew into the defenders' midst in the area around the gates before the order to "CEASE FIRE" was called. One boulder fell short and rolled into the ranks of the spearmen, crushing 8 men like bugs, leaving only crushed arms and legs while the others grimly marched around them. Medics ran up and tried to save those they could as the first ranks of spearmen tramped over the fallen beams of the door and into the front lines of defenders.
 ---------------
Corporal Realen Fox led a group of men with scaling ladders around the city side wall about 1/2 mile away from the gates. There were some trees for cover, so he didn't think anyone saw them yet. He didn't see the gate was down, but it wouldn't have mattered. He had his orders to get in. Five men stood at the bottom of the wall which was only 15 feet high at this point and aimed their arrows upward to cover. Five more pushed the wooden ladder into place and started climbing up. Fox was the third going up. He hoped the defenders would be, well, somewhere else right now. -
Re: The Last War
#440Fletching brushed against Baldwin's face with familiarity as pliable wood creaked. Fingers released inbetween breaths. The arrow flew towards its target. It didn't matter. The second one followed seconds after.
****************************************************
Belzar sliced deeply with the ornamental knife that was made for sacrifice and nothing else. The young girl's dying scream was muffled by the gag in her mouth. Blood flowed darkly into a large bowl scribed with runes that sat beneath her. Bound by wrists Belzar's hapless victim hung from a chain attached to the ceiling. As the blood began to fill the bowl the runes began to glow. Thus began the summoning of the Black Wind. Belzar looked at his sacrifice, joy twisting his evil features as the light went out in his victims eyes. She wasn't Holly Mayleaf but she would serve his purpose.
He sat, pulling a aged scroll from a hard case on his belt, it's parchment cracked and yellowed with age. He began to read the archaic, evil words imprinted there, his deep voice filling the summoning chamber where he was conducting his fell ritual.
**********************************************************
The first arrow caught the first soldier just above the breastplate puncturing his lung. The force hurled him off the wall. The second arrow hit the second soldier in the shoulder and knocked him off the top of the wall as well, his scream comming to an abrupt end when he hit the ground. Realen's eyes bulged in alarm as he looked over the top of the wall. He saw no sign of where the arrows had come from...