The Last War — Legacy Forums — Strolen's Citadel

Re: The Last War

#481

Centurion Fellstrom gave the order and the first ranks of the Legion began to stream into the city amidst light resistance. The men of the Legion who had not exited the city after the first failed attempts to invade were dead, and in a manner that made the new phalanxes marching in retch and gag at the sight. But the defenders had suffered worse, much worse. Those who were not entirely overcome could not fight back effectively. Their front-line officers -- the true backbone of any fighting force -- had been out in the open commanding their troops and were largely decimated.

The carnage was beyond belief. It was almost enough to make fighting men give up the idea of raping, looting and pillaging the town surrounding the castle.

Almost, but not quite. Each man was already eyeing the prizes he hoped to take.

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In the midst of the pain of cracked ribs, Corporal Fox gathered enough breath to ask the two men half-carrying him into the tunnel, "Where's the spear? The spear I had?" "Shut up." said Smithy. "You nearly got us killed by dose monsters in there." He continued to push Fox down the drain pipe.

"We've got to go back and get it!" protested the Corporal. "Captain Kraggis wants that spear".

"A pox on your bloody horsey-captain!" spat out Burns. "And you too! Did you see the size of that beast? Wearing robes! That weren't no human! A bloody were-wolf, he was! He'da shredded you like sweetmeats in a pie, he woulda."

That's when the three of them ran into a group of soldiers coming UP the tunnel. In the darkness, there was some confusion. However, it was clear that they had to go one way or another. There were more than twenty coming up, and three going down, so the numbers prevailed.

Like it or not, Corporal Fox, Smithy, and Burns were going back up into town, although this time with lots of reinforcements.

------------------

OCC: POG, if you killed off Rory, I'll have to sit down and cry. (You don't want to see me cry.) So, let's find some way to get Rory back, pronto. Grumple would be glad to help!

Re: The Last War

#482

Baldwin's eyes were sunken, deep shadows etched across his face following the night's ordeal. He was tired, drained to the bone marrow by the powerful magik of his sword. He swayed on his feet, face lighting up at the sight of his friends. Then Holly asked the question,

"Where's Rory?"

A mountain of fear fell upon Baldwin, burying him in shadow. "R-Rory..." he stammered. glancing about in shock. His thoughts were shattered by the screams.

The screams were accompanied by the sound of running feet and crashing bodies. A young woman ran up to the group, eyes wide with horror as she pointed back in the direction she came. "The demons! They're back!" She ran past the group casting fearful glances over her shoulder. Dozens of people surged past the group, running down the street.

A single demon appeared shortly thereafter. He was six inches tall, covered with gore. Sharp fangs stuck upward out of a heavy lower jaw. Leathery wings trailed the earth behind him. He strode towards the group with a shambling gait.

Something was different about him. His sharp taloned hands held a staff six inches in length instead of the sharp blades the other demons had carried. Though bloody, spiky white hair could be seen in disarray on his small head. He walked straight up to Baldwin unerringly.

He opened a maw filled with sharp misshapen teeth and spoke with a voice that sounded like grating rock.

"Hi Win!"...

Re: The Last War

#483

Holly jumped back in surprise as this demon walked forward and started to talk. she looked round at the group and shrugged obviously this demon was someone Baldwin knew or at least it knew him. Holly looked at Baldwins surprised look and thought that maybe the bit about the demon knowing him but Baldwin not knowing the demon was probably the right option. She shiffted uncomfortably her hand near the hilt of her sword and then she done what she never thought she would've done if there wasn't something about the demon "Hark demon tell us your name!" she waited anxiously for the reply half expecting it to jump at her and tear her to pieces before it said it's name and half expecting it to throw it's scaly arms round her and hug her, why she thought the second she didn't know! being hugged by a demon was not her first idea of fun. she stared at the creature for a few minutes looking at it's odd form it's white hair the staff. The staff got her into thinking it wasn't just any staff. It was Rory staff! Holly looked fear, surprise and delight in her face thinking of all the possibilites 1. this could be Rory transformed into a demon some how 2. this demon could of eaten rory and got some of his things and 3. it could be something so evil trying to trick us into believing it and then waiting for the right moment to leap and kill. it wasn't Hollys way to fell fear of a single demon, it just scared her that the second of her thoughts could be true.

Re: The Last War

#484

OCC: Yay! Rory's back! (Um, that IS Rory, isn't it?) :?

IC: Grumple stared, then got down on hands and knees to look closer at the little white-haired thingy. Grumple knew things shrank sometimes when they got hurt, but this was ridiculous! At least this creature had a nice, clear trollish voice.

"Roar-ree?" Grumple asked, getting down on all fours, peering closer. It had the wizard's staff, but that had shrunk as well. Grumple wondered if staffs got hurt? This was very confusing.

Holly had her hand on her sword, but it wasn't drawn, so that was a good sign. Grumple extended his hand to the little thingy, palm upward (the fingers had grown back). "Ride?" he said, in his sweetest voice, as a child speaks to a puppy -- except, of course, that this particular child sounded like an angry sumo wrestler being strangled while gargling live lizards.

Suddenly, Grumple yelped! An arrow had struck through his cloak into his lumpy butt. A volley of over a dozen arrows flew their way as the 20 legion troops from the sewer pipe took aim at the group of heroes and let fly. Grumple jumped up, simultaneously shielding his face with his spear arm while shielding Holly with his body. Another arrow hit him in the forearm and jabbed through it, jutting out dangerously close to his eye. Grumple roared, ripped out the arrow from his arm and ventured a glance at Holly, who had escaped injury so far. Then, with a snarl, Grumple looked at the men, who were already drawing back on their bows for another round.

Corporal Fox yelled to the men, "Kill them and get that black spear! Loose arrows!"

Re: The Last War

#485

Holly turned towards the legion, Grumple was protecting her and a good thing too she would have to thank him later if they got out of this. Holly threw the box in the air and caught the life-size bow in her hand pulled the string back and let fly arrow after arrow "come on we have to run for it there's to many for us to fight at the moment" she let another arrow fly. each arrow hit it's target with mind-numbing force forcing the soldier to keel over backwards and fall to the floor. Holly looked around the clearing there just above there heads was some loose mortar from some of the houses which had been hit with the legions rocks. some of the rocks were being held up by a small but sturdy platform. Holly drew her bow back as far as she possible could and released another arrow this time towards that platform. The platform wobbled dangerously then stopped she sent another arrow and this time it did the job. The mortar tumbled to the floor just in between the legion and the group giving the group enough time to vacate the premisses. Holly heard angry shouts from behind the rubble from the legion once again being stopped in there tracks it would take a while for them to get out of the part they were in after the group. this should be fun thought holly as she cocked her bow up again and let a last arrow fly over the rubble and down. she bent down kissed grumples hairy cheek straightened, flicked her hair out of her face and began a slow run towards the other side of the square.

Re: The Last War

#486

Rory swore, as the volley of arrows flew at the group. He remembered that the talons of the Black Wind ripping into him and he remembered thinking that if he could disguise himself he could escape. Wilder Magik worked in strange ways. He didn't exactly know how he had changed but one minute his winged assailants were ripping into him and then a moment later he was flying in their midst, unmolested.

He'd figure out how to change back eventually but the look on his brother's face was priceless. Baldwin was used to many strange things happening in the presence of his brother. He snatched the diminuitive demon up and tossed him into the sack that he kept his cheese and bread in. Rory flapped his wings frantically briefly before realizing what had happened, and that he could see in the dark, and that demon fangs were handy for eating cheese.

Baldwin ran down the street with arrows whizzing thru the air about him like angry hornets. He ducked behind the wall and glanced about to make sure the group was out of harms way. "Holly," he said, "We need to organize the survivors. We need to get them out of the city. We all know what will happen to the women and children if they stay." He glanced back to make sure Corporal Fox and his men weren't comming, ears straining for signs of the soldiers trying to flank them. "With small groups of the remaining able bodied fighters in the city, we can fight, striking quick and hard. Long enough to hold the legion, slow them down, keep them off balance. We can't win here, but we can slow them down long enough to save the people." He looked at the group, "What say you?"

Re: The Last War

#487

They didn't realize it, but Odat was actually stopping a very substantial amount of the legion from getting to the place where Holly and Baldwin discussed their next plans.

The square was still empty except for Odat, who was innocently stumbling around drunk. The soldiers, without contrary orders, wouldn't go into the town square, one of the most direct routes into the city. They wanted to stay as far away from the drunk as possible.

There were three things that every soldier knew about "The Drunken Man".

1. He had defeated two mounted knights, mid-charge, while being supported by ten archers, and came out without any scratches (it was actually a wonder that ballistas hadn't been added to the story)

2. Odat had resisted all of Cookies questioning methods, and was the reason that Cookie had been killed in the end.

3. Probably most important of the three; A rather large portion of these men owed him money.

Between the three, "The Drunken Man" had become something of a legend, and nobody wants to face a legend.

Re: The Last War

#488

Arthur ran out of the house as quickly as he could carry a book. He knew what these men would do. They would take his things, his gold, his jewelry, and most important, his book.

He did his best to avoid looking at the large sections of road that had been dyed red, as well as the small pools of blood that had formed here and there. The culmination of fear and sorrow produced a numb feeling inside him, as if everything was not quite real to him.

His mind however was still active. He just needed to avoid the soldiers long enough to find Dugal, or so he thought. He was unaware that Dugal had left Halbad. He didn't know if the others would protect him...

Re: The Last War

#489

One of the first phalanxes of spearmen were marching in lock-step formation down the street with a dozen archers behind them, picking targets from behind the cover of the front lines' tower shields. They saw a group of the citizens of Halbad run across their view and disappear to the left; a blonde woman, an ugly teenager with a rod of some kind, and some others. Back down the alley to the right from where the citizens ran, there was a pile of rocks, and others of the Legion with a few of the dismounted Black Hand riders were scrambling over the rubble, coming their way.

One of the Black Hand cavalrymen, a corporal from the looks of the slash-mark symbol on his shoulder shouted out at the phalanx; "Get those people! A silver Mark to the man who brings me the black spear! Capture the blonde woman!"

Well, if a silver Mark didn't get their attention, then mention of the now-famous blonde woman did! The phalanx turned and started a formation-run after the fleeing group.

-----------------

Grumple tugged at Hol-lee's garments, trailing after her as they ran, splashing through the puddles of blood and torn flesh. He grunted in Common as they ran, "Hol-lee... Bad... Back..." He pointed behind them to the large group of men advancing after them, with even more behind.

The troll saw the little healer man just ahead of them outside of a house, holding some sort of stupid book and looking confused. Grumple knew he was not a bad man, so much to the little man's surprise, Grumple slung him under his free arm and carried him along much as he would when stealing a piglet with a mob of angry townsmen after him.

Grumple had lots of practice at that sort of thing, of course. In fact, if there had been a piglet, Grumple would have snatched that up as well. Never too much of a hurry to miss grabbing a bite on the run, so to speak.

Re: The Last War

#490

Holly turned her head and stared down the alley watching as the heaving mass ran after them. Baldwin was right we had to get the survivors out the woman and children "How are we going to do that Baldwin we have god no's how many men after us at the moment and there's no way of stopping without being caught" Holly grasped at a stitch at her side but she kept running. Her breathing came in short sharp gasps "there must be an easier way of doing this" she called looking round again. As Holly ran she didn't notice the body lying in the path. Hollys foot caught on one side of it and she tripped. Before she knew it she was on the floor "go on don't worry about me just go on get the others out" she shouted to the others as they countinued to run. Holly grasped at her ankle which had twisted as she fell. "goddam it" she shouted to herself hearing the loud footsteps coming closer and closer behind. she pulled her sword out stood to her full height although her ankle hurt trmendously and got ready to fight all she could. All of the men came pouring into the clearing where she stood. this was it they would either kill her or capture her but she would put up a fight before either.

Re: The Last War

#491

Tantus could feel it as heat. His rage, and something else was burning inside of him. He could feel sweat begining to form on the palms of his large hands, his breath hot and ragged. (Since bugbears are covered from head to toe in fur, I rather doubt that they sweat in a human fashion, but rather pant in the manner of a canine) The heat was rage, pure rage.

The Black Wind had come and slaughtered hundreds of innocents. Anyone in the open had been devoured, women, children and animals. Such a display of unholy power was an affront to the powers of of heaven. Such displays of hubris were a slap in the face to the gods on high. The heat tightened, drawing up his guts and sending electric tingles down his arms. He felt like little bolts of lightning should be popping from his fingernails, from the small collection of saint's medallions around his neck.

An arrow pierced his chest. Another his thick shoulder and a third pierced into his neck. No blood spilled from the wounds, but each had carried the power of a lightning bolt in itself. Even a holy man, one obviously protected by the forces of light had been attacked. Nothing was sacrosanct to the heathen men of the Legion. Tantus felt his body become lighter than air, felt it fill with a tremendous radiance.

That light spilled from his eyes, casting a holy glow to fill the area of the small square. Such affonts can only be born for so long. Such slings and arrows will only be endured for so long before the sling is torn and the arrow shaft broken. The arrow burrowed into Tantus's neck inched out, and fell clattering to the stones at his feet. The other two arrows did as well. The area where they had penetrated the bugbear's flesh had been charred and burnt as if subjected to a terrible heat.

Tantus was distantly aware of Holly falling and cursing, of Grumple and the others fleeing. But it was distantly. He felt detached from even his own body, and even the sight of several more arrows piercing his flesh didn't disturb him more than the lighting of flies on his arm. It was almost time, there was almost enough power.

Tantus willed his arm to raise, slowly it did. An arrow struck him in the palm, but rather than greedily seeking his flesh, the shaft of the arrow shattered, and the steel head splattered the stone as droplets of superheated slag. Such power could not be harmed by mundane weapons.

There was a great flash of light. Light as brilliant and blinding as blackest night. The men of the legion in the square were surrounded by it, filled by it, consumed by it. The young corporal felt a palsey shake his hand. He saw in his mind his mother, his father. He felt the weight of every wrong deed he had accomplished. He felt the pointlessness of his selfish and evil life, of the greed and bloody-handed acts he had commited. He knew the life of every man he had killed, of every woman he had violated.

The light faded and Tantus crumpled to the ground, his flesh suddenly feeling as heavy as lead armor. The pumping of blood in his ear was as harsh as a boiling cauldron of thick oil. He felt weak, and insignifigant compared to the power that had filled him. He wept.

The young corporal slumped to his knees, and then onto his side. His eyes were glassy and stared into oblivion. Almost every man of the legion in the square was equally dead. Looks of pain and horror on their faces, the look of surprise and shock left etched in the already stiff flash of their faces. A few survived, but they were lying on their sides, knees drawn up to their chins, weeping as children do.

The light had dimmed the sun for its duration, and now the day seemed a little darker for it's passage.

Re: The Last War

#492

Baldwin was blinded by the flash of light and the subsequent unleasing of power hurled him to the ground headlong but he was unharmed. He saw the men from the legion being hurled away like dry leaves borne on a strong wind. He saw Tantus crumple to the ground. As wave of holy power swept over the area the little demon in his pouch was compelled to return to his natual form. The was a rending of cloth as Rory returned to his full size, ripping the sack that was holding him apart.

He glanced about taking stock of the situation. He saw Holly trying to stand and immediately scrambled up to help her. He greeted her with a kiss full on the lips before he threw her arms around him and lifted her easily into his arms. Baldwin ran to Tantus to help the downed Bugbear. Oh how far we've come, thought Baldwin, thinking of his initial mistrust of the Bugbear when they had first met.

He squatted taking a deep breath, veins bulging and his muscles standing out in ropy cords. In an amazing feat of strength Baldwin stood, The huge bulk of Tantus' unconscious form drapped across his back. He set of with the others at a quick walk, which was all he could manage...

Re: The Last War

#493

Captain Dovin finally made it up to the front of the area where his men were supposed to be advancing. From what he had heard, somebody called "The Drunken Man", was in the town square, and the troops didn't wnat to go in there for some convoluded nonesense.

The Drunken Man certainly lived up to his title. He was stone drunk. Captain Dovin's first thought was to wonder how the man was still standing upright. The way he was stumbling about, it seemed impossible that he could hold his balance.

Still, the town square was the fastest way into the main part of the city. He ordered the attack on the man. In fact, Dovin decided to lead the attack on himself. He needed to put this drunken man nonsense to rest right here and now. He took ten men just to be safe, all good fighters, and they went in to engage.

Dovin was the first to attack, leading with his spear, but just as the spear was about to hit, the man seemed to sway sideways, and then Dovin was missing a spear, and the drunken man was holding one.

Footman Roger tried to swing, but missed by inches before he found the blunt end of a spear smash into his temple with a wild swing from Odat. A side swing from one of Dovin's men landed on the spear's side, now vertical, and the drunk stumbled into him, knocking him down, and sidestepping a thrust from young soldier Jonas.

A strip of cloth separated from his cloak sleeve as his arm pushed aside an upstroke, literally shaving the length of his forearm. And that was when things got ugly.

Odats blunt spear went foreward into the man, knocking him several feet back with the wind knocked out of him and his chest bone broken. Odat, having thrust his spear, started to fall backwards, one leg flying into the air. He was nearly parallel to the ground when he did a rainbow summersault through the air, fliping completely over them man behind him. His right arm flailed out behing him to balance his landing, smashing into one mans face.

The man had died before he hit the ground.

Odat, fell foreward, crashing into the Footsoldier in front of him, and lifted him up through the air, as he charged twenty feet, through two spear-men, and crashing the footman into a house.

He stumbled back two feet, and wheeling around, somehow managed to catch the arm of a swordman, mid-thrust, and he hurled the man into the wall with the hard crunch of broken bone, and the broken wood of the outside wall to the house.

Five minutes, and three men later, there were official orders to stay out of the town square, and t oavoid the Drunken Man at all costs. Simultaneously, there was an order for calvary and archers to come up to the Captains position.

Re: The Last War

#494

Edward pounded against the giant gates to the castle with about a hundred other men, all residents of Halbad.

"Let us in! Please! Don't let us die out here!"

His hoarse cries for help were no good. The Gates were closed. The castle was shut tight.

Re: The Last War

#495

OCC:Â Jeez.Â Every time I think I've seen it all, along comes:
-- POG, who describes a black wind that makes me fear to my bone.
-- Scrasamax, whose unbelievable writing of Tantus reminds me of my every sin.Â .
-- Nobody, whose characters are totally real, but totally something more.Â Always.
-- Callista, who always makes me feel really connected; a part of the thread.
This is a good way to start a new year.Â Create something totally new.Â Never before seen!Â

Thank you for your unbelievable writing.Â I never get this from a book.Â It's alive.

IC:
Hol-lee fell down.Â Grumple turned around to help Hol-lee, but Roar-ee got to her first.Â Where did he come from? Wasn't White hair Roar-ee very small just a minute before? He must eat a lot to grow that fast.

Grumple put down the little healer man... who promptly fell down with his bag and his book and seemed, perhaps, to not like Grumple very much.Â (It was the violent puking that gave that impression.)

Grumple went back to see if Tantus and Bald-man were good to go. Bald-man looked very tired, and Tantus was not moving much at all. Maybe Tantus needed some encouragement.

"Dead All," Grumple growled into Tantus' ear in Trollshaw (the cheerful equivalent of "Everything's just fine and dandy") and followed the group.Â Carried by Bald-man, Tantus' form dropped a couple of holy objects. Grumple picked them up and put them in the pockets of his cloak, to return them when the bugbear woke up.

The castle gates were nearby.Â Grumple wondered if they could get in.

Re: The Last War

#496

OOC: hold on i'm confused whats going on i get the bit about the holy light and odat being a wonderful fighter while drunk but there are two people who seem to of picked me and tantus up and thats what is confusing me. Rory's back YAH which should i follow because i'm not sure what to say to this at the moment.
Just thought i would ask the oppinion of everyone else first before following one and not the other.
Callista

Re: The Last War

#497

OCC: My bad. I read fast, missed part of POG's post, and now I have to go back and edit my previous post. Hopefully, I can fix it. Please follow his lead, and thanks for your patience. I'll try to be more careful. :(

Re: The Last War

#498

OOC: Â I picked Â you up then Dream picked you up. Â I've PM'd him and we're gonna smear bacon grease on ourselves and wrestle each other to see who's gonna change their post :lol:

Re: The Last War

#499

Ohhhh...So what am I gonna do with all this bacon grease?

Re: The Last War

#500

OCC: You win! I give up! I ain't wrasslin' anybody covered in bacon grease.

Please see my post from last night, now corrected. Thanks for getting me straightened out.

Re: The Last War

#501

Baldwin, bone tired and panting, gently lowered Tantus at the Castle gate. He pounded on the stout wood of the gate, "Open up! Let us in! We have wounded." Rory stood next to him lowering Holly so that her feet touched the ground but helping her by letting her lean on him so her ankle wouldn't have to bear the weight. "Let us in!" He bellowed, his white hair a wild tangle, "We have Princess Mayleaf with us. The king will skin you if she's harmed further because you won't let us enter!"...

Re: The Last War

#502

The Legion streamed into the city in force from the north. Â Already, riders of the Black Hand had galloped through the city, and the south gates were now being opened to allow the army outside to enter that way as well. Â Centurion Fellstrom entered the north gate on horseback in triumph. Â Lord Belzar had probably had something to do with the collapse of the defenders within Halbad. Â The gore that lay everywhere was mute testimony to that fact. Â

Now, the Legion footsoldiers would clean up any remaining defenders, so the assault on the castle could be begin in a few days. Â First, let the men have some fun, then get re-organized and start the next attack. Â Keep up the pressure.

He would need the siege engines again. Â Fellstrom issued orders to have them brought inside the city, tomorrow morning.

Re: The Last War

#503

The gates began to open slowly at first and then with more effort. Soon they were open and the group were passing through in a hurry. after all that were at the gates were safely in the gates were shut once more. "What is the meaning of this intrusion. You mentioned the princess" The soldier looked among the ranks and saw Holly half leaning and half standing against Rory "Oh my goodness Princess" the soldier took a low bow and stumbled over to where rory was standing "What have these Monsters done to you" Holly looked evily at the soldier "they have done nothing to me do not realise that the legion will be marching here soon they broken into the city and are killing those who survived the terrible winds. Now call the king" The soldier took another bow and ran towards the castle. Holly turned to Rory "thank you for helping me" She stood carefully on her unharmed foot and kissed him on the lips. she turned to Baldwin "So what now?"

Re: The Last War

#504

Grumple's words were reassuring to the exhausted bugbear. He felt like a sack of dead weight, a poorly constructed scarecrow who had been cruelly stuffed with all sorts of rocks and other cumbersome and heavy debris. Part of him yearned to be filled with that blinding power again, but part of him also feared it. He could remember it like a fading dream, the sensation of being detached from reality, and becoming a conduit of pure, sweet divine power had been life changing.

For some time he had been concerned that some of the other monks had been right, that as a bugbear he was inferior, and lacked a pure soul. But the power that had corruscated through him, and the sense of acceptance and love that had come with it blasted away those doubts like St. Duncan had blasted the spectre of Tonberry Castle. He smiled to himself as he was half carried to the castle.

No doubt some of the guards might have been put off by the strange, yet contented look on the large hairy humanoid's face. There was still a lingering aura, a vapor of that essence that had been channeled through him. Except for the most hard-hearted and callous of soldiers, they saw him as a fellow companion, another living entity no different from any of them save for he was taler and hairier, and had a slight preference for meat over potatoes.

For the moment, the horror of the Black Wind was forgotten as he smiled at Holly, and diminutive Grumple, weary Rory and steadfast Baldwin. He even had a smile for the departed Widderfern.

Re: The Last War

#505

OOC Scrasamax, that was a really good post.

IC: Baldwin looked at the guardsmen surrounding them. Bring us to the king. We need to plan on how to get the refugees of the city to safety...

Re: The Last War

#506

Two hundred refugees stood between the gates with Holly, Bladwin, Rory, Tantus, Grumple and Arthur. Many hundred more still pounded on the gates outside. Twelve had died trying to get in, hanging on to the gates as they closed, and falling to their deaths. Some of those twelve however, had been speared and tarred by the defenders of the Castle gates. None were to come in or out unless they were Holly. Those were the orders.

Arthur's head hurt. He felt almost suffocated inside with the two hundred others in this barred prison cell. All packed in like animals in a cage. He could see the murder holes to the right and left where spears and swords could stab at the mass of human people trapped in here. He hoped that Holly's life would also save his as well. Somehow he doubted it. The crowd had already valued her worth, and they stayed on her closer than wax on clothing. If the soldiers did not let everybody through, only Holly, then he might very well die in this cage.

Arthur knew nobles very well. What he knew about nobles, is that they did not care about anybody of noble blood. They might not want to share this food with others.

And rightly so of course. Why should a commoner have the right to deal with those of noble blood? Why should they have the right to eat from a noble's banquet? They were only peasants. Without leaders, born leaders, where would the civilized world be?

Still, unless Holly could convince the King to spare these lives, then Arthur did not think that either he or his book would survive.

Re: The Last War

#507

Outside the high stone castle walls, outside its massive double gates, the screams and beggings for mercy that had died out after the Black Wind began to arise once again around Halbad as the victors of the Legion surged into the city and began to claim their spoils. Â At least a dozen blonde women in various conditions were dragged before Captain Kraggis on the edge of town in hopes of claiming his reward, only to be turned away by him. Â Most soldiers contented themselves with looting whatever homes or shops they were stationed nearby, while any defenders that were able-bodied were quickly shackled as slaves or "recruited" into the Legion to refill its ranks. Others were simply slaughtered for sport.

As the evening wore on, the rioting and pillaging gradually wore down as did the Legion itself; finally collapsing in general to get some badly needed sleep. Â A strong guard was placed in the center of Halbad outside of the castle's outer gates, and the usual sentries posted (grumbling even more than usual); but in most locations, the troops slept.

Â -----------

Kras-Minion Voramis was enraged. Â His silent black stallion leaped and galloped energetically through the crowded city streets of Halbad trying to get through the barricades and throngs of celebrating men to find Centurion Fellstrom. Â It wasn't until late at night that he found him.

"Fellstrom!" he hissed, catching the Centurion's reluctant attention. Â Illuminated by a roaring fireplace, Fellstrom sat eating and drinking in a fine mansion near the castle, surrounded by officers seeking rewards and promotions, and various rich city officials who had the misfortune to be not-quite-rich-enough to be inside the castle.

"Get the rest of the Legion into this city and close the gates!" Â Fellstrom turned warily to eye the nearly invisible black form standing in the doorway. Â "That's impossible, Kras-Minion," he said slowly, "...my men are exhausted and need rest and rehabilitation. Â I am aware you think danger is near, but who would -- who could -- attack an armed Legion in the dead of night? Â We have posted sentries. Â Besides, the city's north gates are down and cannot be repaired for days. Â I will not place 5000 men on alert at this hour."

Voramis snarled into Fellstrom's brain, "I shall speak to Lord Belzar about this!" and rode off, working his way back out through the maze to the men bedded down outside. Â Fellstrom shrugged and returned his attention to beautiful women and wealthy men who would give anything for their lives.

Re: The Last War

#508

Things had gone bad, seriously screwed up evil bad. Jack had evaded the Black Wind, but the rest of his men had not been so fortunate. Somehow he knew he would meet the Gnurley man again, the rest were dead. They had been torn apart from the inside out by the little black monsters. Somehow they knew that the Crows were not part of the Legion despite their stolen armor and weapons.

In his human half, Jack felt a pang of remorse for his fallen comrades. But at the moment his human hlaf was repressed fairly deep down. Instead he surveyed the world through a pair of jet black eyes, with the wind whistling under his wings. Just one more crow on the battlefield. He lighted on a wall rampart and watched the men of the legion as they had their sport with the survivors. None gave him a second look, there were already hundreds of the black birds swarming around the battle site. Some were larger vultures, while the majority were black-winged ravens and crows like himself...outwardly like himself.

In a flurry of beating wings he crossed the width of the central keep, seeing the throngs of refugees begging for entrance while the Legion took their spoils. The avian side of him, the bird soul was cold, indifferent. Let the humans slaughter themselves. Let them heap up misery and death, and slaughter and let blood be spilled until pointless human notions of mercy and peace, and hope were drowned in a crimson sea. They deserved this.

His wings carried him higher, lifting hi away from the charnel stink of the city that was all to appealing to him. He rose higher and higher, into the realm of the eagles and hawks, though he had no fear of them. To them, he was unnatural and avoided. So much the better and it was a shame that most of humanity had lost such an intimate connection to the vital world to not be able to sense his otherness. Those who were drawn to him, however, were those with blood on their hands, men with the cold souls of ravens, and hard unflinching eyes of the gallows-bird.

Something else drew his attention. Corpses, shambling, the walking dead. He tucked his wings and rolled towards them. The wind was fast in his ears as he leveled out and skated just above the trees towards them. His avian soul cackled with glee, while his distant humanity recoiled in disgust. Closer, he flew. None of them drew back an arrow, or even bore. He felt safe as he passed over them, and he was not alone. There was a large cloud of black birds that trailed in the wake of this army. It was likely that this force left no survivors, needed no campfires and had no interest in dusting off scavengers from the dead.

He turned back, flying in a large loop away from the army. If he flew in a straight line back, someone might have noticed. Zombie armies just dont spring up from the earth.

Re: The Last War

#509

Commander Francis Ryan III was in charge of the Catapult team. He was always on duty, even when the other soldiers weren't, and he and his men were on duty now. You never knew when somebody would decide to vandalize the greatest invention of the seventy-third century...or so the holders of the ancient tomes would have people believe.

Him and his thirty men were on gaurd. They watched the night and played cards, and drank a little ale, although it was carefully disguised as spiced cider in case a superior officer showed up.

Over the commotion that the men were making, he heard what sounded like a harp playing. The tune held his gaze for a moment. It was strangely fixating. Like it played to his soul, enrapturing him in its strangely haunting, eerie melody.

The commotion in the camp had stopped.

Every man was looking in a different direction towards the sound, and Ryan realized that he couldn't pinpoint the direction that the music played from. It was as if it played from everywhere at once, but not like it was echoing at all. It was all one.

He held one ear closed to see which ear heard it stronger, only to realize that it was just as loud. He closed both ears now.

The music, it continued to play, unceasingly. His mind was distracted by it. It was not something that could be turned to whitewash. It was as if the music was part of his own thoughts, but louder and clearer, so much clearer.

Finally he saw movement. It was a figure draped in the cloak of night that surrounded the nearby forest. The figure paused at the edge of the clearing for a moment, as if being restrained by something. A note in the repetitious music hit flat, but only once, Then it hit normally again.

Then the figure started in a uncoordinated run towards the men at the table. The men drew their swords. It was Derrik who intercepted the attacker. Ryan saw Derriks sword pierce the man's stomach, the sword coming out the other side.

The berserker did not even react to his own impalement as he started to choke the life out of Derrik. The others quickly grabbed the man, but the berserker reinforced it's grip, and Derrik died from a broken windpipe.

The man stopped struggling with the Legion soldiers as they skewered it with more swords, but only seconds after Derrick had died, the berserker continued to struggle. Finally, the head was taken off in a single swing.

...

Ryan looked at the scene. In the low torch illumination, the man was lying in a heap on the ground, with his severed head. The men were quite alert now, and what was with that Damned music! Ryan was starting to lose his cool. It was partially because he was starting to become unnerved. They had impaled this man several times before he finally died, and not once did he flich, plus this stange music continued to play, plus there was something else.

He looked at the men crowded around the dead berserker. Then he realized what it was. Their swords, they were clean. No blood.

He looked back into the woods, and then he saw it. A wall of lean figures, shrouded in darkness from the night. They were rushing towards the men. The music was playing

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The trumpet never sounded to alert the army of Halbad. A trumpet wasn't needed. The sound of the music box was enough.

Re: The Last War

#510

Holly stood people crowding round her. She could never get all of these people into the castle her friends maybe but not all of these men and woman. Slowly there was a noise echoing in the courtyard beyond the gates. All of the survivors began to scream and cry louder than ever screaming for them to open the gate and let them in. Inside the walls Holly could hear a deep booming voice "YOU LEFT HER OUT THERE YOU IDIOT" Suddenly ontop of the wall next to the gate soldiers appeared holding bows and pointing them down into the crowd "move away from the princess" Bellowed the voice "this is by order of the king MOVE AWAY" There was more screaming from the crowd none of them wanted to die so either way they would die if they didn't move away or if they were left out there they would surely die. Slowly the crowd moved slowly away from the gate leaving Holly and the group free to breathe. Holly turned round a bit still leaning on her good foot Arthur had been moved back with the crowd "Arthur come here" slowly the gates opened and the group walked slowly through "uncle please you have to let them in if they die then it will be on your concience there your people Uncle" The king stood tall and proud he looked out over the crowd of survivors some mere children clinging to there mothers crying The king looked at holly again and slowly opened his mouth "Make room for these people and check the supplies" three soldiers ran out of the gates and called to the people out side to enter in an ordealy fashion and if any pushed or tried to get in without being checked over first would be cut down before they put a foot in the gate. Three other soldiers ran towards the castle to check the supplies and to make more room in the courtyard. Holly smiled and kissed her uncle on the cheek "thank you" the king looked at Holly with a loving look "What happened to your foot" he asked walking forward and grabbing her away from Rory. The king gave rory a suspicious look before turning and calling to another soldier to give Holly's friends a nice place to stay and that Holly will come and see them shortly once she has rested.

Re: The Last War

#511

Soon, the entire northern perimeter of the Legion's encampments outside Halbad was in an uproar.Â There were dozens, and then scores of attacks.Â Sargeant Sebastian Jager was a fighting man, but he didn't get a fighting chance.Â He awoke, still wrapped in his blanket to protect from the night's chill, only to have it ripped off his body and a half-dozen clawing hands tearing at his flesh.Â He grabbed his dirk and stabbed but they were fast and strong, and in a few seconds of struggle, his eyes were clawed from his head, then his throat from his neck.Â Jager's dirk was still jutting out from the eye socket of one of his attackers when it sank its teeth into the blood pouring from his wound.Â The silent attacker didn't care about the dirk, and it shed no blood of its own.Â After smearing its face with his blood, it stood up, paused and swayed for a moment, then ran off quickly to attack again.

Other men in Jager's sleeping group fared in their own way.Â Some managed to run.Â Some fought and died.Â Some just died.Â Bit by bit those who managed to get away from the initial onslaught came back with reinforcements, and as always in combat, with teamwork there was success.Â The key was to behead the zombies without getting killed in the process.Â Swords were only effective if swung with full force, but this usually opened up the swordsman to being tackled and ripped up.Â An axe worked better, if skillfully handled.Â Spears were useless.Â Arrows were worse than useless, as the running undead would charge and knock down the archer as fast as any uninjured footsoldier would.

Â ------------------

Captain Kraggis was awakened by a fast-moving messenger.Â "Captain!Â We're under attack!Â At the north encampments!Â By men who cannot be killed!"Â Kraggis was up now.Â He pushed two young women out of his bed, who ran away in obvious relief.Â Â "How many?Â What do you mean they can't be killed?Â Speak, soldier!"Â

"Sir!Â Many dozens!Â We're not sure yet.Â It's dark, and they knocked down most of the torches.Â They don't have weapons, but don't care if you chop them up!Â They just keep on coming, sir!"Â

Kraggis roared to his orderly, "Fresh horse!Â Armour!Â Waken Third Dekm!"Â The men scrambled to obey.

The Captain would go see for himself.Â His black chain mail hauberk was already on, and the sword strapped in place as he strode from the house near the north end of Halbad.Â "Where's my horse?!!" "And somebody stop that dam-d Music!!"

Re: The Last War

#512

Ambrosia watched as her forces overtook the enemy army. Nothing could stop her. They would all suffer for their sins, every one.

He army was not a shambling pile of rotting flesh. No, her undead were fast and dangerous. This would be a major victory. This army was considerably larger, and it had taken two great cities before it fell, however it would not survive her power.

"Kill them. Kill them all" her voice echoed inside the minds of her servants.

Her shadows worked effectively, taking control of the officers and having them command as many troops to their deaths as possible. The Shadows were intelligent, and the orders that came from the posessed officers were cunningly designed to sound like good solid plans, while actually being suicide.

Soon, soldiers would stop trusting their superiors, and then the leaderless army would fall before her. It was inevitable.

Ambrosia was tired. Not in a normal way. This tiredness could not be healed by sleep or rest. This tiredness was a fatigue that was felt down to her bones. Her warped bones that were always in pain. They ached with an immesurable pain, sharp and agonizing. Every movement was pain. Every action.

It focused her. It was the agonizing fire that tempered her into the blade that would cleanse the earth of it's plague. She must not falter. There was so much more to do. She had to overcome her tiredness. She had to overcome her pain.

A jolt af arthritis shot through her twisted elbow. For a second she faltered. The music box almost fell, but she recovered it at the last moment. This moment scared her. What if she was too weak. Too weak to hold on. She knew the consequences of dropping the Music box at this stage, while in her full power. It would bring death to her. Worse than death. It would be the death that she brought to others.

I must remain strong. I must keep control. I must remain stong. I must keep control. Never falter. I must succeed.

Her thoughts trailed off as the first trumpet in Halbad was sounded. Now she would see the Legion's full might, and it would see hers...

Re: The Last War

#513

Bone weary, Baldwin wanted to do nothing more than to sleep. Is this how Rory feels after spell casting? It's a wonder he stays awake at all. The room provided to them was furnished nicely enough with warm large beds. They were comfortable and inviting. But the blue glow of Final Judgment could not be ignored. "Rory," he woke his brother. "We must go."...

Re: The Last War

#514

Holly couldn't sleep she tossed and turned in her bed thinking of what would happen once the legion broke through the gates. She had started to drift off when she felt a wave of fury and pain come across her from somewhere not far away a big battle was going on people were getting killed. The coldness grew deep on holly's chest pressing down on her. she stood up and looked out of one of the castle windows down below there was commotion in the city. what is going on Thought Holly as she saw lights bob around frantically. Holly had to get out of here. She stood up her foot giving way slightly underneath her. She held on to the bed and hobbled to where her cloths and weapons were. Holly got dressed silently and slid her sword into it's holster. Quietly she opened the door and slipped her slim body through. Holly looked so much prettier now that they had arrived there she had had a bath and a change of clothes. now holly wore long skin tight black trousers and a tight red top which pushed her cleavage up and held her stomach in even more than it already was. Her long blonde hair shone as she passed by small lights in the corridor. Her hair had grown so long since first time the others had seen her and hadn't been so shiny since she left Palaten. Her boots padded quietly over the soft castle carpet. She looked behind her and thought of her friends. Of Baldwin and grumple, arthur and tantus, odat and Smeed, and then last of all Rory. She thought of how much she would miss them but something was happening and she had to see what she shuffled silently on. Past door after door, corridor after corridor. Holly knew this castle of by heart and she moved swiftly without fault. She would come to the secret back door soon and would be free to wonder the city streets. Holly pulled her hood over her face for she wore a long black flowing cloak which spirraled out behind her. This was going to get intresting.

Re: The Last War

#515

Grumple was not himself. Well, not his size, actually, whatever that was. Grumple's last week had not been his best, you might say, and he shrank under the repeated attacks and injuries (ouch!) and then grew again under proper application of old-home healing remedies (Yeah!). Food and sleep. Especially food. Then more food.

Unfortunately, during the proper application of old-home trollish healing remedies, the Royal Cook (liberally assisted by the Palace Guard assigned to protect the food stores) had driven the troll and his bottomless pit out of the storage chambers, wherein Grumple had barely, mind you, barely eaten more than, say, 5 or 10 percent of what was there, stored up in precious supply against such trivial things as a long siege with probable starvation, cannibalism, and gnawing, painful death for everyone in the castle.

Well, OK. Maybe Grumple ate more than 5 or 10 percent. Grumple couldn't count that high, anyway.

"Humans don't like Grumple" sulked grumpy Grumple, hiding up on the dark side of a castle tower where he had climbed with the spear in one hand and a smoked side of lamb in the other, holding on by his toes. The smokey flavor wasn't Grumple's favorite, but it was edible, and tasted better than the moss on the stones. (Grumple would know. Times being what they were, vegetables were in short supply, even here, high on the side of a castle tower.)

In mid-chew, Grumple noticed Hol-lee moving through the shadowy courtyard down below toward the rear of the castle. "Huh? Wha? Where Hol-lee go?" Grumple looked at the lambchops, the spear, then his hands full of lambchops and spear. With a flash of insight that any troll could be proud of, Grumple skewered the lamb on the spear and clambered quietly down to follow Hol-lee, to help.

Friends are hard to come by.

Re: The Last War

#516

Captain Kraggis and his horse trotted out of Halbad by torchlight, as fast as he dared to go. He got out to the bridge to the north where a full penkwe of infantry were trying to hold back the attackers. The maniacal attackers ran right up into the Legion's swords, and took a terrible beating, but still managed to drag down and kill some of the men on the bridge. Kraggis saw a zombie sprint up and crash full speed into a soldier standing at the top of the span. Even in the flickering light, Kraggis saw the attacker was wearing the clothing of a Legionnaire, and had an infantryman's breastplate on. Where did he get that?

The man with the sword ran it right through the creature's breastplate, but to no effect. The zombie grappled with him, and both fell over the low stone wall and hit the water. After some churning in the inky darkness, only the zombie scrambled up on the banks... encountering several soldiers who hacked it to bits with a ferocity that spoke eloquently of their anger and fear.

One man wanted to dive in the water to help his comrade, but the others pulled him back. "He's gone! Let `im go! You can't help `im now." Then they were all busy once more battling back a few more undead who were walking right across the river, held beneath its surface by their own armour.

It dawned on Kraggis that some of these monsters were from the Legion; men left behind at Palaten. The city, then, must have fallen to this necromancy.

The Captain saw a squad of men he recognized from one of the trebuchets. Their leader was urging the men to cross the river and attack. That was idiocy! The soldiers were not able to swim with their weapons and armor, and their torches were being extinguished as they floundered near the shore. Kraggis rode over. "What's going on here, Lieutenant?!" he demanded.

The officer in charge looked at Kraggis with no apparent expression, just a blank look. "We must counterattack" he stated. Kraggis said, "You are an idiot! Take your men and fall back to the city walls! Now!!" The Lieutenant stared at the Captain on his horse for a moment, then suddenly stiffened and keeled over.

Like a chill wind, Kraggis felt a rush of evil darkness that blackened even his own stony heart. A malevolent shade flowed out of the Lieutenant, then over him. It gripped his soul with horror. He jerked violently. The horse beneath him reared up, and screamed from the sensation of this unnatural attack. Kraggis fell off backwards out of the saddle, slamming his helmeted head against the rocks. The darkness of the night became ever darker as he was knocked unconscious.

Re: The Last War

#517

Tantus felt reinvigorated. He had spent some time in the small chapel of the inner keep, feeling a shadow of the love of the divities. He had prayed in front of a large brass orrey that projected a mandala design of heaven against the far wall. Seeing the flickering of the candle light and the sublime shapes of the holy, he was renewed.

He climbed to the top of a parapet wall and looked down on the ruined city of Halbad. He could see the commotion as the undead and legion grappled in their danse macabre. He could smell them, he could smell the fear and cold terror of the band and the bowel clenching stink of the undead. Few things were repulsive to a bugbear's nose, but the smell of the animated dead was enough to make him want to empty his stomach over the side of the wall. He could smell the coppery tang of blood on the night air.

"They have come, risen from their uneasy sleep to the call of the Night. They have come, hungry for the flesh that still lives, thirsty for the blood of life. They have come and will not cease." Tantus said, remembering an old quote from Saint Duncan the Exorcist. It would take a Saint on the magnitude of Saint Duncan to vanquish a horde such as this one.

"We will need fire, the dead will burn like kindling, we need fire!" Tantus shouted.

Re: The Last War

#518

Holly moved slowly over the courtyard and arrived at a very subdued corner of the immense garden in one corner stood a few vines running up the wall some where more bushy than other's. She pulled her sword out and began to cut away at the vines on the wall revealing a large shabby wood door. Before she had a chance to open it there was a loud shout "We will need fire, the dead will burn like kindling, we need fire!" Holly turned quickly but could not see who shouted it. she shrugged pulled open the door which opened easily because the wood had been eaten away over the years that it stood there. She moved slowly out of the door onto a long bank which tilted downwards towards a small stream which would lead her to a rocky road and then down into the city center. She placed her feet onto a loose part of earth and pushed herself off. She slide a good way down before stopping and having to jump the rest of the way. She landed softly in the water which splashed up at her. she walked a while intill she saw a small sloping path winding it's way down the hill. It wouldn't be long till she was stood in the city center. when she reached the path she looked down the hill from here she could see each and every detail of the city the red blood shiny in the moonlight, the buildings most of them been brought to the floor. and the commotion over on the other side of the city. She picked up her pace and began to trot down the hill. as gravity over took she began to get faster and faster in the end she was running the speed great as gravity pulled from down below. It wouldn't be long till she could see what all the fuss was about.

Re: The Last War

#519

Still chewing on a particularly well-seasoned hunk of moss, Grumple scrambled down and followed the tall blonde woman to a small door -- but she got through and out before he got there. (The seasoning was that really special mix of herbs and spices blended together by the myriad pigeons that sat up on the castle tower by day, but I digress...)

Far ahead, Hol-lee trotted down the hill, right toward the hundreds of Legion soldiers still sleeping in the streets, inns, houses, ditches, horse watering troughs, etc, in which they found themselves after a hard day's fighting and an equally hard night's looting & pillaging.

Not good. Grumple dared not call out a warning. He gobbled down the last of the lamb chops (no use getting killed on an empty stomach, of course) and accelerated to a dead run to catch up.

Whether the run was dead or not remained to be seen.

Re: The Last War

#520

Unconscious, Carl Kraggis felt the rain. Pattering on his face as he lay on his back. Gentle, soothing, cool, but promising life. Life! Something within him called out to the promise of life, of Being, of Reality. Droplets splashed through his hauberk and into the woolen undergarments, spreading onto skin, providing sensations that tingled and teased.

Carl Kraggis woke up. His eyes opened, and blinked at the raindrops falling into them. It took a few moments before he remembered where he was, and what had happened. He raised his head, and dropped it again to the ground, splitting with a headache. His mailed fist automatically slid to his belt and closed over his sword hilt; a hand-and-a-half bastard sword given to him by the Emperor himself. Although it had ornate carvings on the hilt for protection against demonic forces, it was not a ceremonial sword. By no means.

The rain was falling faster now. He lifted his head again, and drew the sizeable sword out of its scabbard as he sat up. His horse was gone. The headache was almost unbearable, but it did not stop him from reacting to the undead creature that turned from tearing at the flesh of a Legion soldier nearby. It sprang up and ran over to Kraggis... who swung the sword from his sitting position and cut one of its arms off at the elbow. That didn't seem to matter, as it grabbed at Kraggis' throat with its good hand and tried to bite through the chain mail on the side of the hood.

Teeth are no good match for fine steel rings woven into a one-piece hauberk. Alone in the darkness, Kraggis kicked the creature free and mightily swung the razor-sharp steel edge with good effect. The Captain was not Captain for naught. He was a large man and superbly skilled in fighting. In the violent wrestling that followed, he gradually hacked off enough of the thing to finally get its head off... it dropped to the ground and jerked spasmodically... and then it was still. He stood there, leaning on his sword, head bowed, breathing hard.

The rain was now a downpour. Thick black drops fell in the thick black darkness. They washed away the blood and gore of the land, of strong and weak, of hero and knave, of winners and losers. Down poured the rain, like the tears of the land that wept unashamed for the dead. For one night, and perhaps for all time and eternity, it poured down.