Freeform Archive · Legacy archive
The Last War
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Re: The Last War
#321Holly smiled and looked down upon Grumple "yes of course you can come with us!" She looked at Baldwin and Rory and pulled her cloak tightly round her. She put her hood up and pushed open the door. The group had been walking for a few minutes when they saw the castle. The turrets ran high into the heavens, piercing the cloud. The gates, so large, that a giant seemed to live there. Holly walked up to the guard at the door. "I have a meeting with the king. My name is Holly." The guard nodded and ordered for the gates to be opened. There was a chugging and a whir of mechanical pulleys and the gate began to lift slowly of the ground, into the air. The party walked through the gates and ended up in a large hallway. Pictures lined the walls. Pictures of old stories. Old wars. And wars still to be fought. Holly jumped as a familiar voice floated through the air. "Ah, my dear! You have arrived." the king walked forward, a manly jump in his step. "Now I hear you have something to ask of me? Fire away my dear do not be afraid, I will not shun you from my kingdom." Holly swallowed. Nervously she stepped forward and took a low bow. "My lord, I wish to ask of your army!" It was blatant and short, holly new this. The king looked around the room at the others here with her. "Why may I ask do you need my army? What is so important that you need the largest army in the southern, western and eastern regions of the world?" Holly blinked. Surely he knew about the army nearly on his doorstep, surely he had been told! Holly's eye's crossed the room, taking in every little inch of space. "I wish to use your army for war my lord! An army of great evil marches there way to halbad while we talk. My friends and I are here to stop them. That is why we must have your army." The king looked quite staggered as the information sunk into his mind. "Well my dear that does seem a good reason to need my army! Yes you may have my army. They are in your hands now, but I will not allow you to fight." Holly stood up straight. "You will not let me fight!" her voice quavered. "But I must fight, I must take revenge on those who killed my family." the king's friendly smile vanished. "That is my condition, YOU must not fight. After this is over Palaten will need its queen. If you die then Palaten dies with you." Holly's face twisted nastily. She held her hands behind her back and took a deep bow. "As you wish my lord." The others would not of noticed Holly cross her fingers under her cloak. She stormed out of the hallway and back outside. She turned sharply to Rory, Baldwin and Grumple. "Do you think I should fight?" she stood and awaited their answer. -
Re: The Last War
#322Grumple kept the cloak pulled close to his body, the hood covered his face. Holly had wrapped the spear head with a fur strip and made a festive looking flag to complete the disguise. A pair of trousers now covered Grumple's gray-green legs and ill-fitting boots kept his too-large feet covered. Despite all this, Grumple felt that too many eyes were looking at him. Too many suspicious minds might be wondering what this bow-legged youth was doing with the tall blonde amazon.
Grumple was hoping Holly would say something good like, "Let's go have dinner."Â Or, "Let's leave and find a safe place to sleep."Â
But Holly asked "Do you think I should fight?" It was bad enough when Rory said to "go see the king". Now his friend Holly wanted to fight a war? Herself? With Grumple?  Really, REALLY bad.
Grumple looked up at his friend and shook his head back and forth. Um, No. War would not be Grumple's first choice of things to do today. -
Re: The Last War
#323Armies are slow. Armies are hungry juggernauts. Armies are something you spend years preparing, training, feeding, supporting; all at great and terrible cost to the kingdom. Every soldier represents a man who is not producing. Every good officer represents one of the best and most versatile minds in the kingdom doing nothing besides destroying people and things.
Armies are like the proverbial White Elephant... the "royal gift" given to "honor" your enemy... who finds himself compelled to feed and care for this eating machine while being unable for the sake of "honor" to destroy the thing and eliminate the constant drain of precious resources.
Kraggis knew this. Voramis "knew" this. Belzar knew this. The Emperor knew this.
Palaten had fallen because it had been unwilling, after years of peace, to keep pouring men and money into the ravenous maw of a trained and motivated force. Kraggis and the Legion had easily overrun the fair city when its call to arms had fallen on deaf ears; those that had grown more suited to faith and farming and family.
Now, the entire Legion camped only two days out from Halbad. The cavalry was already there; tactically surrounding the city and preventing any messengers from moving out to call for support. Absorbing all the food and supplies that would normally flow in to feed a starving populace. In two days, the hammer would rise up and begin striking the strategic blows. When the job was done, the Legion would sweep into Halbad and devour all before it -- and like a hungry juggernaut, drain the very soul of another city and move on.
It was the way of conquest. To defeat the army, sometimes it is only necessary to cut off its supply lines and stop it for awhile. But how do you stop a juggernaut, let alone defeat it? -
Re: The Last War
#324Rory ran long slender fingers thru the stubble on his chin. "Well," he began, "You promised not to fight you didn't promise not to go." Baldwin's eyes bulged as he looked at his brother.
"You would try something like that. Holly gave her word and what the King had in mind was her not being in harms way. I'd think the way you feel for her you'd agree with him." If looks were daggers Rory would be impaled.
"Bah! who's he to tell her what to do? If it wasn't for her he'd be sitting on his duff while his city got overrun." He looked at Holly, "Look, if you go to battle I'll protect you so you won't have to fight, so in a way you'll be keeping with the kings wishes."
Baldwin pinned Holly with a raptor gaze, "Holly you know Rory's wrong, you gave your word. Be noble enough to keep it."
Baldwin fumed, his brothers always got these things confused, Dugal was worse than Rory... -
Re: The Last War
#325"I see" said Rai. "Then what shall we do now" He said, finishing the last of his evening meal.
Arthur had still not answered the question posed by Dugal. Whether or not to help him. Instead he left the kitchen and started packing his medicines and bandages and amulets and everything else that he was planning to take with him. His business here had not been going as well as he had hoped. It seemed that Nobles here did not get injured, and the distinction between poverty and wealth was too defined for him to make his money off of a middle class.
Maybe Dugal was right about that.
The army was a different matter. Arthur did not intend to get stuck in this city while it fell in around him, and it seemed that this Dugal character might be his best chance of getting out alive. If they were telling the truth that is. Although, somehow Arthur believed them. He did not really know why, but he believed them.
"Time to see where this leads me" he mumbled under his breath as he made the final preparations to leave.... -
Re: The Last War
#326Holly looked between Rory and Baldwin. They both had their points and even Grumple was saying that she shouldn't. "Rory's right he can't tell me what to do!" she nodded at Rory. Her eye's then flicked to Baldwin "but i do agree. I gave my word therefore I should keep it!" In her head she knew for a fact that she had not given her word to anything, but she kept silent. She turned her head to Grumple. Giving her a sly smile she began to walk away from the castle. Silently she spoke to herself "if I fight then there will be a chance that I will die. But dieing is better than sitting, wondering whether we are winning. Maybe if I keep to my word say that I will not fight but fight anyway." she stopped turned to Rory, Baldwin and Grumple and said plainly. "Fine I will not fight." A light flickered dimly in her eyes. -
Re: The Last War
#327"How do you stop a juggernaut?"
One way would be to weaken it first. Starve it, perhaps.
The supply lines had stopped, although not because of any plan.
Back in Palaten, those that were still living fled for their lives, running away from their city. When Belzar's army had attacked weeks ago, when the Black Hand Riders had been there last week, the Citizens had holed up and supported their men at the walls as long as they could. When the walls were breached and their men cut down, the Citizens, now Slaves, had done as they had been ordered, preparing food and supplies to take to the Legion as it moved on to Halbad. The thought on any Palatenite's mind was to live one day at a time. What horror could be greater than a war?
Now they knew. The 200 soldiers left behind had been slain by the onslaught of a new and greater enemy. One more horrific than any in the city had imagined. The Slaves were now the Hunted. The new enemy was after them, now. And it was after the Legion, camped 25 miles away, as yet unaware.
This new enemy had no use for supply lines, either.
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Re: The Last War
#328OCC: I'm going away for the weekend, for warmer climes. I will assume Grumple finds an unguarded storeroom filled with food and drink and stays there a few days, or something like that.
Actually, if you need to do something with him, go ahead. Or if you need to borrow the spear for your "character development" go ahead. I don't care. Just have fun.
`Later. -
Re: The Last War
#329Dugal looked up. "We need to find Rory and Win." He adjusted his swords. "Then we can take care of this problem with Malik. Mac, you still got that map of the sewers."
"Aye." The big man was meticulously washing every plate and pot he had used to make the meal.
"Good." Dugal responded. "Maybe we'll be able to find out more about this army."
The four left the house walking through the streets cautiously, on the lookout for the NightWatch. The streets were strangely hushed as if anticipating a storm. Large warm drops of rain began to fall out of the sky as they approached the Blacksmith's shoes. One of the three street children Mac had spoken to earlier ran up to him and the two had a whispered conference, followed by the clink of coins being passed to the youth's hands.
Mac spoke to the rest of the group, explaining that Rory and Baldwin had left to speak with the King. They went towards the royal compound and ran into Rory, Baldwin and Holly just as they were leaving.
Rory ran to his older brother immediately, eyes lighting up, jumping on Dugal and sweeping him up in a bear hug. Dugal was shorter than Rory but heavier, but Rory spun him around easily, both of them laughing.
Baldwin's reunion was much cooler. He gave Dugal a curt nod as he fought the urge to smile. Dugal tousled Baldwin's hair like he had when they were kids. They knew that given time, a short time they'd be at each others throats, but that was okay. It was just good to see each other in one piece for now.
"Holly," Dugal began, "What news from the king?"
Rory was looking Rai up and down, a smile exploded into a deep laugh as he pointed at the monk, "I knew there was more to you than met the eye."...
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Re: The Last War
#330"The king?" she turned and looked at the monk as well. Then looked at Rory and shook her head. "he has agreed to let us use his army! As long as i don't fight!" Hollys voice slipped away. She looked at the floor. Her mind was a blur. she had to fight, this is what she lived for. If she knew that she wouldn't be able to fight she might as well of stayed in Palaten and let them capture her. A soldier ran out of the blue. "the king requests for you all to report to the castle at 20 hundered hours. Princess you must stay here." Holly's face went as red as a ember burning on a hot fire. "My name is Holly, and i would appreciate it very much if you called me by my name." The soldier took a deep bow and turned disappering down the street. "you hear that you have to return here at 8 tonight. Have fun won't you!" Holly turned on her heels, and marched angrily down the cobble stones. Her boots clicking an Eccentric pattern. Her mind whirred as her anger built up inside. She would fight, whether they liked it or not. -
Re: The Last War
#331Meanwhile, back at the ranch...
Actually, it was Ranch Dressing. Or mayonnaise. Or maybe just a greasy bucket of lard?
Grumple didn't care. He had been following Holly out of the castle but was apprehended by a single sniff, a wafting vapor, just the merest hint of... FOOD. Yes.
There, off to one side of the courtyard, was a door that led into the barracks cook shack. And the cooks had gone off to stare at Holly's fine figure as she strode out of the castle, in a bit of a huff, perhaps.
Not one to let any opportunity go wasted, Grumple slipped in and found heaven on earth. What the barracks cook shack lacked in quality it certainly made up for in quantity. Sides of beef! Slabs of bacon! Huge buckets of lard (maybe I mentioned the lard already).
Not one to stand on ceremony, Grumple settled down to shoveling massive handfuls of butter into his mouth with one hand, alternating with pumpkin pies with the other. (He spat out the plates this time... No use wasting precious stomach space on undigestibles). When the head cook returned from drooling over his favorite dish, he saw Grumple and yelled, "Hey! You!"
Grumple grabbed his spear/flagstaff and a long string of sausages and ran for his life, the sausage links trailing down the alley behind him. The cook didn't stand a chance of catching the fleeing troll. Grumple tossed up his ill-gotten gains on top of a low building in the gathering darkness and clambered up. He could see Holly returning already. Good. Just enough time to finish these sausages. Then he jumped down and rejoined her, waving his "flag" a bit.
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Re: The Last War
#332OCC: Nobody, I take it you've been a bit busy. You mentioned to me privately a little of what Ambrosia was up to. Moreover, I read your discussion elsewhere in Strolen's Citadel. With your permission, I will attempt to apply your thoughts, below. If I miss the mark you have set, please let me know and I will retract or edit as needed. I just feel I need to wrap up some loose ends at Palaten so the overall story can progress freely, by everyone. Thanks!
IC: Lady Diana Elberen of Palaten was fleeing for her life. War was supposed to be Hell, but war held no candle to the Hell she was facing.
Diana pulled her daughter, Melinda, along behind her as fast as she could. Melinda, age 10, might not see another birthday. She was wounded, in a way neither could comprehend.
Melinda's father, Diana's husband had attacked them. Kind husband, loving father, High Councilman Hugo Elberen, organizer of the third quadrant defense against the Legion... ... had attacked his own wife and child, and tried to kill them both.
Councilman Hugo Elberen... ...Dead and buried one week ago.
His rotting eyes hung from their sockets. His skin was putrid green and his hair was falling out. Foul, mottled flesh stunk beyond comprehension, as his disgusting hands sank into his daughter's pale arm when he burst into their house and cornered them in the upstairs bedroom.
Melinda had screamed and pulled away, with her skin torn by her dead father's protruding fingernails. He was fast, but his advancing state of decay had slowed him enough for Diana to pull her daughter from his hideous grip. Then, Diana, good citizen, loving wife, had upended the heavy dining room table into his face. The corpse fell down, but scrambled up again, ungainly and off balance. Perhaps a week in the grave was too long to maintain full speed and agility.
With a prayer that was also a curse, Diana had hit her husband with a heavy fireplace poker, swung hard against his head. A solid hit! His decomposed ear and a slab of scalp flew off, spraying the wall with foul bits of flesh and hair. He staggered with a cracked skull, but did not fall this time.
As he lurched toward his wife and daughter, she grabbed the girl and ran. And ran. Past the dead bodies of the soldiers who had been left behind by the Legion to supervise Palaten. Out past the city gates and down into the bog. She had to run, to get away. They both had to get away. Anywhere. In the name of God, how could anything be worse than this?
She glanced back. It was worse. The soldiers who had been struck down and killed were getting up. Getting up and picking up their weapons. They did not lurch or stagger. Unlike Diana's husband, they looked fast and very, very dangerous. -
Re: The Last War
#333OOC: Hey guys. Um, sorry about not posting in so long. I usually try to post more often, but I have had a lot of stuff to keep up with, And I had forgotten about some of this stuff.
IC:
You must know me from a tavern somewhere. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rai Dow-Sang. I would like to know if I have offended you in any way while I was less aware of myself, and also, if you know anybody else that I have offended while I was less aware of myself. It is rather important.
Arthur was meanwhile not saying anything. A war? what had he gotten himself into. He did not want to fight a war, he wanted to escape one. On the other hand, maybe he could use this opportunity as a chance to escape Halbad unharmed. He would wait, and bide his time and then he would escape. -
Re: The Last War
#334Ambrosia watched as her undead ravaged the city, purified it, cleansed it. She controlled many now. Many of the living who did not deserve death.
Death was not a right. It was an honor. It was a privilege. These…things that she saw before her, these Palenetians, they did not deserve peace. They did not deserve the quiet grave. They deserved Torment. They deserved anguish beyond death. Their souls needed to feel anguish, to feel suffering. Only then would they be cleansed and ready to die. Only then would Ambrosia return, and give them the eternal grave.
But for now she had waited. That eerie Music playing over it all. Her Music Box. Its soft, dark melody rang out impossibly far, each note lingering. Lingering on longer than any note possibly could. It seemed to play inside the very mind itself. Like ones own thoughts, but clearer, ever so much clearer until it was impossible to know what you were hearing, It’s haunting harmony seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
It strengthened the dead, gave them power, and gave her control. Now she controlled numerous hundred lesser Zombies, undead fast and strong as they were in life, but filled with the primal instinct to kill.
Fifty or so greater Zombies. These were much like their counterparts, but the eyes gave them away. The red glowing eyes, burning with hatred for anything living. These were exceptionally fast, with inhuman strength, but yet more dangerous still, these were the ones that spawned others, that could consume bits and pieces of souls and inflict their own torment on the living, creating other zombie undead.
Finally she controlled a few of the forsaken. Shadows shunned by light, without form, given substance. They could not be harmed by any conventional weapons. Only magic could harm them, magic or inescapable light. They were smart and dangerous, their incorporeal claws able to dissolve flesh and bone. But their power was not the ability to simply kill the living, but to possess the living as well. They could move quickly from host to host, filling whatever task they were given, and moving on just as quickly. They were hard to control, but they were necessary and invaluable
Soon, new undead would rise in Palaten, and finish off the remains of the old life converting it into new undead. Ambrosia would not stay to take control of them all. She would be unable to control all of them anyway. Raising the dead was easy, controlling them was hard, but Ambrosia never intended to keep all of them under reign. Only those she needed for the next cleansing.
She took her time to speak now. “Come here my servants. Come to me.†Her voice, like gravel and yet wispy at the same time, rang through the minds of her servants. Several jerked upright at the sound of her voice, and her commanded came to her without question. She was unchallenged master here.
“March forth, that way, Toward Halbad, where we shall cleanse the city of its corruption, and punish the Wicked.â€
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That had been many hours ago. Too many to count. Possibly days, Ambrosia did not really know. Light and darkness were the same to her, day and night were one undefined thing. She had lost her normal vision long ago, and the sun’s warmth had not really touched her for a long time.
What she did know, was that she was gaining ground on the army that preceded her. They had to sleep, but she did not, nor did her servants. It was only a matter of time.
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Re: The Last War
#335OCC: Hi. I'm having enormous trouble getting into the forums, although I can log on. I'll post when I can. Thanks.
IC: Belzar was holed up in his Keep. The onslaught of the Undead had stunned him, overwhelmed his defenses. He was not prepared for this. His Kras-minion in the keep had been hacked to bits, being unable to hold off the hoard of undead. But that had bought a bit of time. Two Shadowrems he had generated from dark intonements had battled the zombies away from the doorway so that Belzar could close it. Bar it. Clamp it down and lock it with ward of binding, and ward of blinding, and extreme repulsion. All while the music played, and penetrated, and violated all.
Then came the Forsaken, dissolving the Shadowrems. It was a near thing for Belzar.
In a truly ironic twist, the Dark Lord had been forced to summon a Lightbringer to hold the Forsaken at bay. Close proximity to the brilliant soul of the ex-paladin burned him as well, but it prevented those forbidden beings from touching him. Belzar could force himself to stand beside the fallen holy one if it saved him from those undead spirits. Good thing he now owned what had once been a sacred man. A wise investment, so long ago.
The paladin's glowing spiritual sword swung again and again against the creeping shadows as they attempted to enter.
Then... they were gone. The impossible music was fading. The headless zombies lay strewn about on the stones inside and outside the Keep; some still twitching, in pools of gore. But the others; the living undead, the ones with their heads were also gone. Where did they go?
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Re: The Last War
#336OOC: You may be having enormous trouble but I having enormous fun reading your stuff. Shame my characters are so far from the action. Although I'm sure it won't be that way for long and I'll rue the day I longed to be so close to the undead. I'm traveling to the lower 48 as we call it on Wednesday and don't know how often I'll be able to post.
IC: Thunder rumbled ominously as clouds gathered in the west. The earlier rain had ceased. As opposed to the fresh smell often following a short shower, the breeze carried the smell of rot and corruption. A foreshadowing of things to come.
Rory felt it, the pressure of things not seen, the heavy weight of the blight upon the land. He knew not why and was too weary from recent spell casting to travel in non-coporeal form to investigate. He felt the full weight of his twenty four years and then some. He spoke to his brother Dugal in a voice laced with fatigue, "Dugal, we have larger problems at the moment than Malik."
Dugal sniffed the decay on the air, feeling the fell vibrations. He grudgingly nodded, "I know."... -
Re: The Last War
#337Holly stopped playing with her hair and looked to the sky. A large bird flew over head. Holly's eye's narrowed as she felt the oncoming threat. She didn't know what it was and she didn't want to at that. she had to call for the others soon. For the reinforcements. Nobody but her knew exactly what the reinforcements were or how they were to get here. She stood up and walked away from the others. She put her head in her hands and sighed. "well i guess it's now or never" she said to her self quietly. She lifted her head and whistled. The sound driffting along on the wind. It travelled further than any sound could. Over fields, over rivers, over forest's, over death and destruction, over the land searching for the ears it needed.
Meanwhile Tigra was grazing in a big field, lushes green grass spurted around her hooves. Others where with her too. A noise driffted on the wind. She liffted her head up and listened to the noise. The whistle piercing each one of there ears. There heads liffting high into the air. Tigra reared onto her hind legs and whinnied deeply, the others followed suit. Tigra was black as black as night, with a small white line down the bridge of her nose. Her leg's were powerful, and she was the fastest horse in the world. She was queen of horses. The others stood and watched her carefully. she whinnied again. 1 thousand strong horses followed Tigra as she galloped into the forest. Halbad was a day's run from where they were.
Holly stopped whistling, the sound dieing away to a faint whisper. They would be here soon, then the others would see what she could do. -
Re: The Last War
#338OOC: Ok guys, well by my calculation, the Legion will be arriving sometime the day after tomarrow, and Ambrosia will be hard on the trail. With that in mind, I might as well take this time to tell you what to expect about Ambrosia's Army, and how you should play it out.
First, keep in mind that Ambrosia's undead will be vastly outnumbered by the Legion. There are roughly about five hundred undead, all told.
Now, the Lesser Zombies will be as fast and strong as any normal person, with the exception of the Zombies who have not been freshly raised. At this point, there aren't many of them. They will only die from decapitation or severe trauma to the head. Stabing one through the eye with a skewer wouldn't do it, although piercing the head with a relatively wide sword probably would. Otherwise they just take whatever damage is dealt without flinching.
They don't use weapons, but they will try to bite anybody, and they will also try to strangle their victims at the same time. Their bite does not turn you undead, simply hurts. Just imagine if you were fighting an unarmed opponent who had no feeling in his body, and did not have to worry about bleeding.
The greater Zombies are similar, but worse. Like I mentionsed, they have glowing red eyes, and inhuman strength. They are probably twice as strong as a normal person (able to lift most people off the ground with one hand), and they are also fast. This means that they can pretty much crush the windpipe of anybody that they can get their hands around. More importantly, their bite causes you to rise as undead. They will also bite freshly dead victims as well, causing them to rise as well. The bite takes several seconds to work, and the whole process takes several hours.
Also, these ones can heal. Each time they bite a living, or recently dead, foe to drain some of their soul, they heal some of the damage they have taken. If they bite five people, then they can regrow one limb, and decapitation doesn't kill them outright. Their body can keep going even if it is detached from the head, and as long as they re-attach their head in time (they can usually last for up to a full minute) then they will survive. Keep in mind that there are only about fifty of them. Encounters would be very rare, but very challenging.
Don't even worry about the Shadows. There are only about five of them, and chances are that you would never actually see them in their true form anyway. The main reason for this is in the fact that they possess their enemies, and that is a complication that I don't want to include.
Also, Ambrosia is off limits. If anybody actually spots her, she is wearing a full, black cloak, and you would not be able to see her face. She is distinct however, because she carries a black music box around, and is always gaurded by at least one shadow (although not usually in true form), and five greater zombies.
I am just posting this in advance. The party still has some down time before then.
Oh yes, and one more thing. The undead are mostly comprised of Palenetians. You should consider the fact that you may well have known some of them before they had died.
-Nobody -
Re: The Last War
#339Diana and her daughter crouched in the darkness under the ruins of the bridge outside of Palaten. There were the screams of the people -- her people -- as they were run down and murdered by the undead horrors. She saw two of the big, fast monsters running around, the ones with the red eyes. The citizens were defenseless, having had all weapons confiscated by Belzar's army. The citizens were mostly women and children, anyway. And Belzar's army -- that which had remained -- had been struck down and now was beginning to rise again and move off into the night after the Legion.
She pulled her daughter into a hole back behind one of the abutments. Something had dug it, but thankfully it wasn't there now. The hole stunk, like a troll, perhaps? but that was somehow reassuring compared to the smell of her husband's rotting flesh.
Hugo... no, that THING, lay in the bog a short distance away; his head crushed to a pulp. When he had tracked her and Melinda to the bridge she saw him coming and was prepared. She had rolled a large foundation rock to the top edge of the broken bridge. When he stumbled slowly along under it following them, she rolled the boulder off onto his head. He fell beneath the stone; she ran down and pounded his skull again and again with a brick like some she-devil possessed... until he was still. Then Diana collapsed into the stream and washed herself. Over and over again. Where did this horror come from? Where had she found the strength to do these things?
She made Melinda wash her wounds over and over as well. God only knew whether they would heal. God had to help them. She had to protect Melinda. They would hide in this hole.
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Belzar could not hide in his hole any longer. He reformed what remained of the Kras-minion, and summoned more spiders from wherever they could be reached to fill the form even further. Then, the pile of cloth and arachnids trembled as the Kras-minion felt outwards, gathering information. The spiders had seen. Throughout the city, the spiders saw. They saw two greater zombies moving about the inside city and outside, slaughtering any living they found. Belzar knew these newly dead would become zombies themselves, in a short time. He had to get out of there.
"Release me," the Lightbringer spoke in haunting tones. "I have done your bidding, foul one. The dark ones are gone from here. How many times must I pay my debt? Release me to my rest."
"The child you conceived in sin is still mine!" Belzar snapped. "You betrayed your vows. I upheld mine! Our pact is not yet dissolved. Go for now, worthless soul."
The fallen Paladin's etherial light faded back into darkness and winked out.
Belzar was flesh and blood himself, but he was also the most powerful summoner the emperor employed. He would escape, as he always did, but first his half-a-Kras-Minion here on the floor needed to contact Voramis and give warning. Relaying a message over such a distance using spiders would be difficult, but Voramis should get the warning by dawn.
Belzar thought, "Getting to the pool is too dangerous. That fool Malik is on his own."
Belzar's strength was returning. First he plucked a few spiders from the pile on the floor. Smiling, he summoned another Shadowrem and wrapped it around him for darkness and fluid movement. Then he/it slipped out through a crack under the doorway of the keep and melted out into the night. -
Re: The Last War
#340Malik gazed off into the darkness, his eyes haunted. The city stretched out below the high balcony he was perched on; mountains of wood and slanted roofs and valleys comprised of granite walls and shadowy alleys. It had been hours since his familiar Fenris had left. He had not been able to contact him. Attempts to contact Lord Belzar at the summoning pool had met with failure as well. The evening wind caressed his face in a way that was not comforting. The McVey brothers were still at large and had killed several members of the NightWatch. They were in the city, his city; but their whereabouts were unknown. And without Fenris' return he felt trapped and paralyzed. He felt the ominous weight of a future that was uncertain.
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Dugal looked at the rest of the party. We need to rest and plan our next move. He stifled a yawn. Baldwin nodded in agreement, "Let's go back to the Blacksmith's shoes" Mac clasped the three brother's hands one after the other. "I need to go check on me ole lady. She's got those kids now." Rory nodded, "Tell Rose I said hello." Mac strode off, his large form swallowed in the shadows of the twisting warren of streets in a way that was uncanny.
The proprietor of the inn was happy to see the group and provided them with comfortable, warm rooms. The three brothers said their farewells to the rest of the group and retired to the room they were sharing. They had much to talk about.
OOC: Rory, Baldwin and Dugal are conveiniently tucked away so that my being away from a computer for the next week or so doesn't impact flow of the story. Dream you can feel free to run Rory and Baldwin if you need to. Otherwise they'll probably stay in their room.
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Re: The Last War
#341General Millar had received the reports of an army laying siege to Halbad. The numbers were unusually small for an attacking army. The fifteen hundred men under General Millar’s control would easily be able to destroy the forces numbering less than a hundred. Unless there were reinforcements. That was the coin flip. There were two possible scenarios.
One: This army had lost many men in Palaten, and was in fact being driven on anyway, even without the hope of victory, by some foolhardy politician who did not understand warfare.
Two: there were reinforcements coming, and the army was either stalling, or acting as a diversion.
Millar was not a Grandmaster General, in fact, he was not even a Master General, but he was no fool either. Reinforcements were coming.
But that was not the end of things. He still had two choices. You see, the power of a well trained, organized army, becomes exponentially more powerful as it grows in size, with larger armies able to take out the enemy, faster and with less casualties. So the choice remained.
Millar could send his army to overwhelm the enemy troops, and then fall back to the defenses of his city. However if reinforcements were too close, he would be overdrawn, and easy fodder for the enemy.
Or, he could play it safe and hold up in Halbad until the enemy decided to attack. However, if reinforcements were too far off to help quickly, then he would have to fight all of those same men, but this time they would be strengthened by the additional troops, becoming exponentially harder to kill, and Millar would have lost his chance.
He would need three days, two at minimum to defeat them. One to organize the troops properly and set a battle plan in place, such that the men could follow it with precision, plus one day of actual fighting, plus one more day to draw back and prepare for the assault on Halbad.
His scouts were useless in this. They would not be able to scout the distance to enemy reinforcements and get back it time to be of any use. Millar had had them sent anyway, but only for general reconnaissance. No, he had to decide now, when the time was ripe.
“Never wait till you know everything. By then it is already too late†he quoted general Yanose out loud.
Millar decided (correctly as it turned out) to play it safe. He would prepare for what he could, reinforcing the city walls, readying the defenses and counter offensives, going over battle plans, and seeing to the thousands of things that needed doing. When his scouts returned, he would use the information to prepare even more.
“Sound the trumpet in the morning captain. We have a battle to prepare for.â€
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Re: The Last War
#342Arthur was not happy to be stuck sharing a room with the Monk. He was used to his own bed, without anybody else to occupy it. Unfortunately for him, those were the sleeping arrangements.
Arthur loosed the pack from his shoulders, letting it hit the wooden floor with a thump. His shoulders were quite sore. All of the muscles in his back were tense, and would not loosen up, but he would not have admitted that. Instead he just took the bed.
Arthur did not know what Rai was going to do, although he expected some kind of annoyance. Instead, Rai meditated. He was absolutely motionless, and he did not make a single sound. Arthur had a very hard time telling whether the man was awake or sleeping.
Arthur’s muscles didn’t care. They longed for sleep, and he was not awake for a full minute before sleep had overtaken him.
_________________________________________________________________________________
It was the dark of night. Arthur woke up to the sound of a woman’s scream. He did not know where it had come from but he knew that she needed help.
He jumped out of his bed, and grabbed his bag of things. The door to his room was open, although he did not notice it as he rushed out into the hallway, listening intently for a sound, any sound.
Again, the scream. It came from downstairs this time. He rushed down the stairs and into the main room of the tavern.
He heard the pound of running footsteps from the kitchen, and he rushed through the doors to see the back door closing as three men exited quickly. The men, however, were not what caught his attention. It was the woman next to the door that found his focus. She was covered in blood, with burns and lacerations everywhere.
“Help Me!†she said in a raspy voice that was almost a whisper, barely audible to the human ear.
He rushed over in a moment, and touching his hand to her forehead, loosed his weaves, like a thousand threads in perfect unison.
But nothing happened. The wounds did not close, the burns did not heal.
“Help Me!!†she rasped again.
Again he loosed the weaves, but again nothing happened.
He took out his pack, and in a moment had his book in hand. He knew what prevented his healing, but he could not remember the cure. He did not know it. His hands shook violently as he turned the pages as quickly as he could. They shook almost as violently as the woman’s, blood covered hands did.
“Help ME!!!†Came her desperate cry as convulsions overtook her. He could barely flip the pages now, and try as hard as he could, he could not find it. He knew where it was, but he just couldn’t seem to find the page.
He was frantic now, panic overwhelmed him. Where was it. He knew it was in here. Where was it?
He dropped the book to the floor. Blood soaked into the pages, as he tried desperately to think of anything. He tried all sorts of weaves, casting one after the other after the other, but nothing was working.
“HELP ME!!!!†She cried, this time a shriek through the sound of her convulsing on the floor, shattering him, breaking him.
He needed to do something. Now. There was nothing. She was going to die. He knew how long.
Six seconds. He tried another weave, working blindingly fast. Nothing
Five seconds. Another weave. Nothing.
Four seconds. Panic overtook him, fully this time.
Three seconds. He couldn’t move. He was frozen, unable to breath.
Two seconds. He felt the room closing around him. Constricting him; trapping him. Her Convulsing reached a new level as the last of her life was being drained from her.
One Second:
“NO!!!!†he screamed as he bolted upright in his bed. He was still in the room in the dead of night. He was still in his bed. His heart pounded in his chest, and his shirt was soaked from sweat.
He went over to the sink, the water bucket sitting upon it, and brought some of the water to his face, letting it cascade down his trembling form.
He put his head in his hands, and knelt down unable to stand, motionless except for the shaking of his body. He was under control now.
Only ten minutes later was he able to move again. His hands still shook, but not so violently. He went to his bed, and again, sleep overtook him, but not before he noticed that Rai was no longer in the room.
-
Re: The Last War
#343OCC: POG, we eagerly hope for your early return.
Scrasamax, Wogden: Where are you? :(
Nobody: in your next-to-last post you mentioned "Or, he could play it safe and hold up in Palaten" in the center. I think you may have meant Halbad. You may want to fix that. And thanks for giving us some idea of what's going on with the army in Halbad.
IC: The air was charged with tension. Dire portents were seen by people everywhere. The dawn of doom was poised upon a razor's edge of destiny.
Grumple, of course, couldn't care less. He stood in the courtyard picking his nose and wondered why Holly was whistling into the wind instead of preparing for war.
Hmmm. That booger was really tasty. Maybe there was another. Hmmm. -
Re: The Last War
#344Tantus shook himself, finding a small heap of roofing shingles had nested on top of him. The shingles clattered loudly as he shook them off of his now torn and dirty frock. The staff was missing, nowhere to be seen, the same with Jack and the Crows. A few feet away he noticed one of the crows, laying perfectly still, his leg and head turned at unnatural angles.
The imp...he wiped at his face and felt the tender flesh burned by the unholy creature's corrosive drool. At least his eyes were unharmed, so the old castellian would have said, tapping the side of his old bald head with the point of his quill. No one ever laughed at him for the irregular black splotch that seemed to be permanently above his right ear.
It was quiet for a change, and he guessed he had been out for some time. So much for good samaritans. Maybe there were good samaratins, he woke up, and it wasn't in a holding cell, or an earthen pit. "I've got my health..." he thought.
He pulled his cloak up to better conceal his less than human face and began to move through the city. They were preparing for the coming battle, which was good. Morale seemed iffy, but it always was until the first attack. In those first few moments, the entire battle could be predicted. The people would find their backbones, their courage and would be able to hold their city, defend it to the last men and brick. Or they would break, and fall back, giving up advantage and footing as fear took them.
Then he noticed a familiar figure. He was wary of the flag that hung from the end of the Tooth, not that the bugbear knew the name of the spear but he did know that it had a handy way of skewering living things and he certainly counted as a living thing.
"Is the human fresh today?" Tantus asked Grumple in trollshaw. -
Re: The Last War
#345Without thinking (which was easy) Grumple automatically replied in Trollshaw -- in accordance with proper predator etiquette, of course -- "Still pink and chewy."
Then as they say in Massachusetts, "light dawned over old Marblehead". With a flash of recognition, Grumple spun around, threw down the spear, and leaped up to hug his much taller friend. The 5-foot troll wrapped himself around the 7-foot bugbear happily.
"TANTUS! YOU BACK!" yelled the exaltant troll. Good thing the monk was of sturdy build, since the last such hug given by Grumple broke a man's back.
Grumple slid down, picked up the spear (pulling a squirming rat off the points that the Tooth had "accidently" skewered) bit off the head and offered the rest to Tantus (more proper etiquette -- you might not understand). Then Grumple said, "Where have you been?"
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Re: The Last War
#346OCC: Hi. People tell me I think too much (you knew that already, I know) but here is my thought. I'm taking a poll of my fellow players here. This thread "The Last War" is one of the most successful on the website, by any statistics I've seen. I'm having tons of fun and think I could go on forever, but maybe you all don't think that way.
We're on the cusp of a huge battle. It could lead to the end of the immediate war here at Halbad, peace and safety in our own time, blah, blah; or we could go on to an ever bigger and more epic struggle against the ultimate threat of the undead, yada, yada. However, epics usually take time if you know what I mean, and I don't know how long you folks want to play.
Another option: we can just go on until the thread fizzles. I wouldn't personally choose that path since it seems unsatisfying to me... but I would go along with the majority.
So how do each of you think about 1) end soon. 2) Go long. 3) Don't have a plan.
What are your thoughts, players?
Of course, you all can just tell me to stop thinking so much. It wouldn't be the first time.
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Re: The Last War
#347OOC: Go long of course. Don't think so much
IC: Fenris stood on the side of the building outside the McVey brothers window. Had it not been a moonless night a passerby might mistake him for a stone-hewn gargoyle charged with protecting the occupants of the evil forces of the world.
The imp was anything but a protector, the opposite in fact. He peered through the dirt smeared window at the brothers. The Wilder mage was sleeping while the other two were speaking quietly. One drank ale while the other fletched arrows. Had they been sleeping he would have been able to make a try for some of their personal effects.
Damn! Fenris spat this was too difficult. It would be easier to get some items from the others, that would get the black wind close enough. Where was that troll, he looked stupid enough and the brothers always had him around. He leapt into the darkness, his leathery wings propelling him skyward, not observing Rory floating behind him in incoporeal form while the Wilder's body slumbered. -
Re: The Last War
#348"Just under the bridge." Tantus said again in trollshaw. It was a fairly simple phrase that he had been resting and din't feel so good. Given that much of his face was burned, he did look like he had crawled out from under a bridge. "Where is everyone, what's been going on?"
(OOC - out of town until Monday. Peace) -
Re: The Last War
#349"Uh, War." Grumple said, and nodded toward the platoon of soldiers tramping past them toward the city walls. He thought some more.
"Uh, Fire kill men. Um, spiders kill men, screams, tall man get head smashed, Grumple leg hurt, eyes hurt, head hurt."
"The usual." He shrugged, and thought again. You could almost SEE the thoughts bumping around in his skull...
"Roar-ree man and Baldman at house down there. Lots of food!" He grinned a bent and toothy smile.
"Um, um, Yeh. Hol-lee now princess, but still wears pants. Hol-lee likes Grumple!" He grinned again, and finished up the rat.
------------------------
Standing in the night, Kraggis was in his usual mood. "Political hacks!" he thought, but dared not say aloud. Voramis was standing quietly nearby in the road into the city that was blocked by 50 horsemen and some ground troops. A similar group was blocking the road OUT of the city on the other side, about two miles away. Two squads circled the city on horseback, to prevent any escapes from the city, and to "requisition" supplies from any farms nearby.
"This was premature", the Captain thought. He had too few cavalry and troops to stop any sort of large-scale rush from the city troops. Their torches were visible on the city walls. Too many torches. Too many men. Probably over 1000. If they opened the gates and attacked, Kraggis' forces could fire off some ballista and archery projectiles, but then he'd be forced to mount up his men and retreat. He might lose the ballistas.
The Legion was probably a full day behind them, if not two. Best not to appear too threatening just yet.
Kraggis' thoughts were interrupted. Voramis raised his head, and put his arms down. He hissed, "Kraggis, there is danger behind. Something Evil."
Now THAT got Kraggis' attention. Something that the Kras-Minion considered evil?? Something worse than him?? Kraggis watched with dark eyes glinting under his visor as Voramis mounted his black horse and rode off for the Legion, back up the road toward Palaten.
"Well," thought the Captain. "If the battle starts too soon, there won't be a political hack to tell me how to fight it." -
Re: The Last War
#350Holly turned and saw that Tantus was back. "tantus when did you get back?" She pushed her hair out of her face and smiled. "well more's better thats what i say!" she smiled again, turned to the others and said "come on we better go and rest like the others, my friends should be arriving soon." she smiled again and started to walk off towards the 'Blacksmiths shoes'.
Tigra was running faster than she had ever run before. Her feet pounding into the ground leaving muddy prints on the trail. She was almost there. The army waiting just outside Halbad will feel the floor rumbling. Stones starting to rattle on the floor. They would not be expecting what is just about to happen. The forest behind the army exploded with horses jumping over men and carriges. They ran so fast that as soon as they had gotten over the army they had gone disappered into Halbad. Tigra stopped running, and all the other horses behind her stopped as well, they walked quickly down the streets. People moved out of the way, the horses seemed so wild. Tigra was in the lead, she was the biggest of them all. her muscles showed clearly through her skin making her seem bigger and wider than she really was. her powerful legs flexing as she walked. they were closing in on the 'Blacksmith's shoes'. -
Re: The Last War
#351"Bones of Beelzebub and Baal!!" cursed the Blackhands on guard outside the city, on the far side. It was beyond belief! Just past midnight, a rumbling had been heard behind them, not from Halbad, but from the the forest behind the sleeping men in their trenches. Then, in the darkness, what seemed like hundreds of horses had vaulted over their reclining forms and poured like a dark wave toward the city.
"TO ARMS!" shouted the watchman. The men scrambled up out of their bedrolls, and cursed again. It was too late. Not only had these horses already run past them, but some of their own horses had broken their tethers and joined the wild herd.
The horses milled around by the south gate of Halbad, which was shut of course... but which slowly creaked open to admit them. The wave flowed again, into the city. The gates creaked shut.
"Oh, S#/+ !!" spat out Corporal Griswold. This was impossible. Now the army in the city had horses. Lots of horses. Kraggis, who was around on the other side of the city, was going to kill him when he found out that his group had allowed the horses to get through. Not that there was anything they could have done to stop them in the night. Maybe Kraggis would only bust him down to Private. One could always hope!
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Re: The Last War
#352Addle was in a predicament. You see, somebody had been whistling really loudly, and now Addle couldn't get back to sleep, or at least not without a good tummy rub. But who could Addle get a tummy rub from, if nobody was awake? There had to be a human somewhere. Addle would find one. Maybe they would have a shiny object too. That would be even better.
Then Addle noticed a pretty lady. Addle liked pretty ladies. That was cause pretty ladies liked Addle.
Holly saw what could only be described an extrordinarily cute, precious, darling, fluffy lavender creature about two feet high with a black patch on it's ear, come scampering out into the road where Holly was walking to the Inn.
Addle scurried right up to Holly, and immediately started to nuzzle Holly's leg in a manner which could only be described as absolutely adorable.
No Female on earth could possible resist giving Addle the attention that was clearly being asked for. -
Re: The Last War
#353Grumple was not like Other Trolls. Oh, No. Years ago, Grumple had been instructed carefully by real people in matters of kindness and hospitality; lessons on how to be accepting and cooperative; on how to put aside primitive hostile tendencies and be polite. Grumple knew there was a right way and a wrong way to react to newcomers.
So, when Grumple saw something "cute, precious, adorable, fluffy and pink" snuggling up to Holly for a tummy rub, Grumple knew there was only one right and proper way to behave.
Grumple was going to Kill this Thing. Now. It was the merciful thing to do.
Grumple growled, "What da @&^%$! is THAT?!" dropped his spear, and dove headlong at this insufferable nuzzler, to grab it and tear it to pieces, one puffy pink piece a time. To chase it away forever from Grumple's friend Hol-lee. Hol-lee who had been kind to Grumple. Hol-lee who had kissed Grumple. (And didn't puke or even spit afterward.)
This would only take a second.
OCC: Nobody, your description of Addle is perfect. I hate it already. Not just Grumple; me. -
Re: The Last War
#354Addle didn't like ugly things. Thats because ugly things sometimes didn't like Addle. Ugly things were jealous of Addle. Or sometimes, ugly things liked to eat Addle, not that they had ever succeeded, but as a truth, the uglier something was, the more it wanted to kill Addle for being not ugly.
Now addle had a few rules about what to do when in trouble.
Rule 1: Be adorable. Check
Rule 2: Find a pretty lady. Check.
Rule 3: Get pretty lady to help Addle. No Check.
Now Addle didn't actually go through this list one item at a time. They were just rules that Addle used for just about any situation. So Addle quickly hopped out of the way of Grumple, who was very ugly, and hopped behind Holly, who was very pretty.
As the five foot tall troll went crashing into the side of some person's house, Addle grabbed a hold of Holly's leg and looked up at Holly for protection from the mean Troll. Plus, a little attention would also be kind of nice. -
Re: The Last War
#355OOC: Now see, Dream, your problem is that you have been over-exposed to fictional cuteness. I think that Barney and Elmo qualify. However, if a little kitten came over to you, and started to nuzzle you, I defy you to tell me honestly that you wouldn't think that it was adorable in a good way. -
Re: The Last War
#356OCC: Me? Hurt a kitten? Naw! Of course not. I humbly ask forgiveness.
But Grumple would probably not agree...
IC: Grumple found that about one foot of him was stuck in someone's house. To be precise, it was the one foot that was made up of Grumple's head. It had crashed though the siding of a building into a downstairs bedroom. The owner of the aforementioned bedroom, a little old lady, screamed at the sudden and nightmarish intrusion of a troll's head through the side of her wall, which knocked down the ancient painting of some even older gentleman onto Grumple's head with a crash. Grumple put his hands on the outer wall and tried to pull his head free with no effect.
The little old lady jumped from her bed with remarkable presence of mind (particularly considering the presence of a disembodied troll's head in her bedroom at night), picked up her chamber-pot, and smashed it onto Grumple's head for good measure. Grumple looked up through the smelly fluids and such running down his face only to see the woman reaching for a heavy stool.
Grumple got both hands and feet pasted to the wall outside and really, REALLY pushed this time, to pull his head free. It worked! With a splintering of wood siding, Grumple's head popped free and he fell down on his back in the street, looking upside-down up at Holly and the unbearably cute Thing clinging to Hol-lee's leg. Grumple's lips automatically curled into a sneer. -
Re: The Last War
#357Even before dawn, the men of the Legion were awakened. "Get Up! Get Up!" the bugle called. Sleepy soldiers rolled out of bedrolls, fed the pack horses, loaded the wagons, and dismantled the stockade. They were being pressed to make haste. Halbad could be reached in another day if they marched, hard.
Then they could attack and overwhelm yet another city, fulfilling the lust that may be found deep in every man to slaughter and destroy.
They did not know another army -- an undead army -- was marching toward them, with the same motives. -
Re: The Last War
#358I would like to take this opportunity to acknowledge Ancient Gamer as the original creator of The music box that Ambrosia is taking with her. Specifically it is called The Music box of Mordalin (Http://www.strolen.com/content.php?node=576), by Ancient Gamer, and can be found in the items section of Strolen's Citadel. Normally, I would not use an Item from Strolen's Citadel, in Strolen's Citadel, but it was really good and I was compelled to use it.
IC:
Ambrosia was catching up, but slowly. The problem was, that while she and her army did not need to sleep during the night, they moved at a slower pace over-all. This was a problem that could not be avoided.
It was not the fault of her undead. They were fast and deadly. No, the fault belonged to Ambrosia herself. She was weak. Her legs were deformed from her long exposure to the power of the Music Box. That was it's curse. Each step she took filled her with agony, and she was not strong enough. She was not strong enough not to flinch with every step. Not strong enough not to give way, even only a little, to the terrible pain.
She too, did not deserve the peacful grave. This was her torture for years of life spent with wanton attention to only herself, giving in to each and every vice. This was the price of steadfastness, the price of power, the price of the Music Box. It was this pain of the flesh caused by the stress on her bowed legs. The pain of bending her twisted, deformed hands and fingers.
And so it was this that slowed Ambrosia and her army of the undead. Despite this however, they were gaining distance. Victory would have it's day. -
Re: The Last War
#359Grumple? Hurt a kitten? Never. Grumple is more likely to try to eat the kitten whole rather than hurt it.
IC:
General Millar was awakened in the middle of the night by a quick series of knocking at the door to his quarters. He wasted no time in getting it. It was Captain Hopkins.
The captain made a sharp salute, which was quickly answered by Millar.
"Whats the problem Hopper" Millar said. It was clear by Hopper's face that there was, in fact, a problem. Even despite Hopper's normal, easily excited attitude, for which he had recieved the name Hopper, it was clear that something was wrong.
"Sir, one of your scouts has returned, sir"
"Why is that a bad thing" Millars calm, almost soothing deep baritone seemed to emphasize the difference in Hopper's quick, nervous tone.
"Sir, because he is in the infirmary, sir"
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
No more than a few minutes later, Millar was walking through the doors to the critical care center of the military hospital. There was Scout Rogers, lying in the bed, his red stained sheets contrasting with the hospital blue.
Millar did not waste time. He was very good at calming soldiers, but now was not a time to waste on comfort. "Son, I need you to tell me what happened. Don't elaborate, don't change the facts. I need the pure truth, and I need you to concentrate on only that. Anything else, and your report could condemn this army rather than help it."
The practicality of the question, mixed with his calm, sure tone (a tone which did not betray the anxiety that Millar was actually feeling) seemed to help Scout Rogers calm down.
"Sir, there is an army to the west. There are about four to six thousand men all told, complete with calvary and siege weapons. I estimate that they are about a day or so off."
"Are you sure. There can be no room for mistakes here" Millar knew the answer before it was spoken. His scouts were prided on for being very accurate.
"Yes sir. I'm sure."
"What about unit arrangement."
"Mostly Footmen sir, but they are not without a good supply of calvary or support troops."
"Structure"
"I only saw them at night sir, but they had a higly organized defensive structure. I scouted for holes in their defenses, but whoever runs the army knows what he is doing. I couldn't find any."
"Anything else?"
"Yes sir. One more thing. I don't know why, but they are not recieving supplies from Palaten, or anywhere else for that matter. I'm Positive about this sir."
"Thank you Scout. Your service to this army has been outstanding."
With that, General Millar strode off.
"Captain, award him the Shield of Courage, and notify his family immediately. If he doesn't make it, I want him to see his family before he goes. Move."
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Millar had been given a troubling picture. A full Legion of men on it's way to Halbad, and only one day to prepare. Millar controlled less than a third of that in numbers. They needed a miracle.
-
Re: The Last War
#360Fenris moved towards Grumple's supine form with speed, oblivious to the incoporeal form of Rory closing fast.
A globe of shadow as black as the nether realms desended upon Grumple and Holly. Fenris, who could see clearly within it's inky depths, snatched up the tooth and tried to carry it aloft leathery wings flapping wildly. A powerful magikal force exploded into the imp's chest causing him to drop the spear. The Tooth plummeted toward Addle point first. The imp screeched as it crashed into the building Grumple had just extricated his head from. Sending him crashing thru the wood into the kitchen, where the owner of the house was pouring herself a strong drink to calm her nerves after what had happened in her bedroom. Fenris leapt at her, all fangs and claws. Rory hit him again the flow hammering him into a row of cabinets causing crockery to explode into shards under the impact.
The woman of the house could not see Rory only the nightmarish form of Fenris and the sight, so soon after Grumple's appearance in her bedroom, was too much and caused her to faint dead away...
OOC: Don't know when I'll be able to get on again. Happy Thanksgiving (If you celebrate it, or even if you don't)