Tuesday, April 24, 2012

The arrival of heroes.

This is a good 'un. I loved writing this and I REALLY hope I get to do something similar as Aylix when I play him.


It was close to an hour later when the group strode through the camp, fully armed and armoured, eyes set and straight ahead. Groups of people moved out of the way of their path as the six of them cut an impressive swathe through the masses - Gregory and Crow in the lead, Aylix to the left of Gregory, Addy to the right of Crow and then Eliana and Grun behind them respectively.
They reached the gates, no more than six foot tall in the wooden wall where they were met by a number of guards, who seemed oddly bolstered as if they had known they had been coming.
"Stop! State your business and what your purpose is here. Netherthong is under restricted access by orders of Baron Equinox." the guard stepped forward, holding up a hand. On raised platforms either side of the gate, men with crossbows had them trained on the group.
Aylix laughed, stepping forward ahead of the group. Gregory glanced at him warningly but the militiaman just winked and carried on, his hammer resting easily over one shoulder.
"Guardsman. I am Captain Aylix Goth of the Mercia Militia and I am escorting these ladies and gentlemen into town. It would be in your best interests to shift your arse." Aylix boomed in a voice that carried across the gate and surrounding area, turning heads from around to watch the procedures.
The Guardsman glared at Aylix, his hand going to the sword hilt at his belt. "And why would that be, Captain?" he spat the title. "Why good could riff raff such as you possibly bring while the learned minds of the Baron and his men are sorting this out?"
Aylix grinned insolently. "Riff raff?" he exagerrated a cough, clearing his throat. "Guardsman...?" he started, prompting for the mans name.
"Martins." he deadpan.
"Guardsman Martins. This group stood in front of you have fought and beaten back Kryganites, Seraklanites, Abraxians, undead and more while you've been comfortable behind your little walls here... Which, to be honest look so flimsy elf piss could knock them down. No offence, Eliana." Eliana smirked where as Grundown let out a whoop of a laugh. "But my point is that these folk here have given blood, sweat and tears in making sure that the people out here are safe. And you turn them away as riff raff?" he stared at the Guard dispairingly. "Do you know who you have stood before you?"
Guardsman Martins face was slowly turning redder as Aylix spoke and even as he opened his mouth to speak, Aylix continued without him saying a word.
"You have here Sister Addison Taylor of the Church of Tralda, talented medic, brave and couragous - she took to the field to fight the undead armed with her faith and just a mace and armoured in.. well.. it's not armour, but she looks damn good in a corset doesn't she?" he glanced back at her and winked, eliciting a bashful smile. "I know what you're thinking though gents, I've thought it myself, but sad to say she's taken I think." he shrugged at the assembled crowds apologetically.
Aylix paced back and forth in front of the group as he introduced each, emphasising his words with either his hammer or free hand.
"You also have Ranger Eliana Leafwhisper of the Silverwood forest, tracker extraordinaire. She has scouted a camp full of Kryganites while they are in preperation for a massive ritual, took out a Nightmare on the field of undead that was threatening to overrun a line of militia by VAULTING over the top of the militia on an injured leg no less. Riff raff? Hardly. Kick the ass of most of the blokes here, yerself included?" he gave a wary nod. "Probably. But it'd be worth it though, right?" he grinned, eliciting a laugh from the crowd and - he could swear - the smallest of smiles from the Elf.
"Over here! We have Master Brewer Grundown. Son of Grakni, son of Thorri, son of Kataran of the mountainhome of Grungrunaz-Karak - may your beard ever be long and may your clan ever prosper." he browed low to the dwarf respectfully before resuming his pacing. "This Dwarf threw himself into the wave of undead, again and again - felling more of them than anybody else on the field and was instrumental in making sure that his companions survived again and again. Riff raff? Say it to his face when he's got a hammer in his hand. Just make sure you've got your affairs in order lad."
He stood front and centre, before the two brothers. "And finally. The sons of Steward Chrace of Mercia. Crow and Gregory Chrace...." he broke right and stood to the right of Crow. "Father Devoted Crow Chrace, who - single handedly - not only fought like he was possessed by an Archon of Kharach Himself," he glanced to the heavens, touching his fingers to his lips, "to protect the caravan and see if safely away as the Kryganites attacked him again and again, he took to the field not two days later and broke the will of the undead by defeating the fallen Black Death Knight, duelling it for close to ten minutes on his own before bringing it down. Riff raff? How many death knights have you killed guardsman?" Aylix glare was accusatory, the previous joviality lost from his voice briefly.
"And finally. High Father Gregory Chrace of Crowa, who - with the help of his colleagues - interrupted a Kryganite ritual to do... The Seven only know what foulness in the woods near Mercia. With his brother he rushed back to Mercia to inform them of what was happening. On his own, he entered Mercia, armed with his faith and his greatsword to save as many as possible from the city while it was under seige. While inside the city he saved countless lives, put dozens of Kryganites, Abraxians, Bequifisians and more besides to the sword and had been prepared to use his ladies Final Miracle to take down more besides. This man has led a group of survivors, including a nine year old girl, out of Mercia under the nose of the Kryganites. He has risked life and limb to be here to inform the people that run his city what exactly it is they're facing. This man, while maybe a bit of a grouchy git," a smirk played on Aylix's face as he glanced back at Gregory, who nodded in return. "Is a damn good man. He is a better man than you and he did not risk his life getting this information to be cast out as riff raff." Ayix's voice was increasing in volume in a voice that was obviously very used to giving orders.
"Now. I say again Guardsman. It would be best if you and your men move your arses. Because I believe whether you like it or not. We! Are! Coming! Through!" Aylix's hammer slammed head first onto the grass with finality as his speech finished, the surrounding crowds burst into cheers and - with the blackest of looks possible - the Guards moved aside and the progression continued on.
"I thank you." Aylix grinned with a salute as he followed in their wake. "Keep up the good work."
Before them the townhall loomed and the bell in the tower above it struck eleven.


Slightly cheesy, with a few slip ups, and without the same range of emotion I could probably get in the field as... well it's half 10 at night and I can't shout...

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