Struggling to write a bit today - my writing seems to have dropped off a lot lately and I'm not sure quite why. It probably doesn't help me finding all of Bleach that can be watched Youtube stylee-online. It is giving me a few good ideas, but not something I can really use anywhere at the moment. Misery has stalled fairly hard, which I'm going to attribute to not writing it for over a week at the beginning of the month. I seem to have been fairly run down since Springfest for some reason and I'm not entirely sure why. I was fairly ill for the few days afterwards but I've been... I dunno - mind blanking a lot for the past couple of weeks. Which has been frustrating especially when I've not been larping for most of this month, except Saturday just gone when I ran at Black Country with mine and Phil's new plot.
I wrote the awesome thing at the begining of the week this week which took a lot out of me, which knocked me down for a couple of days. I just haven't been able to get up and going again with it.
Part of it - I think - is just a bit of a character crisis. I'm getting fairly jaded with my own characters and it's other charcters that I'm really enjoying writing about (quite largely inspired by some AWESOME stuff a fellow writer has been sending me over the last couple of weeks.) However they seem to have a much better grasp of the other characters than I do and no matter how much I hate myself for it, I always seem to have to fight myself really hard to stop myself making it out to be very special fucking snowflake (aka Mary Sue/Marty Stew or whatever you want to call that particular literary abomination.)
Quite often the character themselves would real me in if I try that and Lahsaa is especially very good at stopping me doing stupid stuff that makes him out to be a lot cooler than he ever could be (fantasy sorcerer powers aside.)
I need to push the boat out on my writing a bit, try and write things I'm not used to writing maybe? Scenarios I'm not used to writing? I might put Misery in Middale on hold for a while, at least until I feel I can come back to it. Or maybe, just edit it. Problem is once I've done the 750 words for the day, I really don't feel like doing more writing or doing editing. 750 words feels like a very doable, sustainable about day in and day out, the 3100 words I did for the End of a Saga wrecked me mentally as I said earlier
Though... it is a muscle just like any other... maybe it just needs exercising more. It's gotten used to the 750 words a day and has gotten a bit used to writing that - so I need to start pushing the boat out a bit. See if I can work up to the NaNo-esque heights of 1667 words a day. And then push it further still. I'd love to be able to crack out 2000-2500 words a day with no really effort (but wouldn't every writer?) I know I need to be reading more (I have ASoFaI, and the Mistborn Trilogy to read as well as a bunch of other stuff on my she;f. Reading just hasn't been up there recently.
I wonder if I need to let my streak lapse and start again. I've felt like a bit of a cheat lately on 750 words - using my Patron status and the "Time off" feature a little too much maybe. I don't really want to lose a 76 day streak though. Even if around 10 of those days I've probably time-off'd.
But is that in the spirit of the whole writing thing though?
I envy these people who can juggle plot lines and juggle reading multple books at once. Especially with how SHORT my days are seeming lately. Work, maybe gym, home, eat, catch up on the world for the day, write and then bed. With the list of things I have to do seemingly getting longer (Warhammer army, bits for larp, writing for larp, story writing, reading, bits of art I want to do, projects like the Phyrehawk Reads Twilight I started, catching up on blogs and internet stuff I do, larping, socialising, gaming, tidying up, housework etc.) how does anyone try and fit all of that into their day? Or even their week half the time? I miss being young and having days stretch away endlessly - feeling like there is all the time in the world. That just seems to have gone completely.
Ah well... that's a catch up - I wrote, I unloaded a bit. Time to blog it and finish watching Bleach for the evening before going to bed and starting everything bright and early again tomorrow.
Sigh.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
No story post tonight...
However, I recommend that you go check out some of my friends blogs instead.
They're in the side bar to the right. Seriously, them. Go look.
They're in the side bar to the right. Seriously, them. Go look.
Monday, May 21, 2012
The greatest of sagas eventually ends...
Axes flash, broadswords swing, Shining armours piercing ring. Horses run with polished shield, fight those bastards till they yield. Mightnight mare and blood red roan, fight to keep this land your own. Sound the horn and call the cry, how many of them can we make die!
"Jarl! They're out! We're the last ones left." Lahsaa Nethir shouted often the vicious melee despatching a pair of skeletons easily with his quarterstaff, blowing away a third with a blast of magic.
"About time! The smell of this corrupt air is worse than Fith's cooking." Ragnar Morkai snarled, batting aside a pair of animates with his shield as if they were nothing, one collosal mace blow destroying another three.
"Fith's cooking is worse than the witches lab? Really?" his elder brother Hati laughed, decimating yet more undead with his spear, running four or five zombies through with one thrust before tearing it through.
"Hey Fith, perhaps you should take lessons?" Arya Ardaddottir's laugh rang out over the clash and ring of steel on steel and crushing of bone, as she easily swatted away half a dozen feyunds that had charged her from behind as if hoping to take her by surprise.
"Ja, though only if we want something else in the house that can kill us." Saga Bjorndottir's laugh was jovial as she wove gracefully in and out of the undead that still pushed forward into the small fort that they had been calling home for the past month. The undead swung for her, but each swung was too slow and they were sent toppling to the floor before they could register her movement.
Olaf Hargeson's laugh was deep and throaty as he waded through lines of skeletons with two maces drawn sending bone and rotten flesh spinning to each side as he stroke forward. "There's enough in the house that could kill us already! I'd be more scared of the food turning us into frogs, or worse."
"Fith is more likely to turn himself into a frog in the process." Skade's voice was serious, but Lahsaa - closest to her, noted the twinkle in her eye and the corners of her lips upturned.
"Pah! I don't need the witches potion tricky to bring curses down on each of you... But it'll be your crotches that itch and rot, and boils breaking out on your rear!" Fith the Egilsonn hissed, flicking holy water from a vial in his hand. Where it caught the undead that advanced on him their rotten skin hissed and bubbled, breaking the foul magics that bound them and forcing their collapse.
"My boot with be in your mouth before you try your curses on me again." Bjorn grunted humourlessly as he swung a large double handed mace in a large arc - obliterating a massive swathe of undead creatures. "Does this mean we can get out of this shit hole, Jarl?"
"Ja. When we have killed the rest in this fort!" Ragnar shot back, as he destroyed yet more of the risen dead. "I hope you've all been keeping count."
"I didn't realise you could count past ten my Jarl, you have your boots on after all. So we're going to all beat you easily. Even Lahsa'." Arya's called out mischeviously.
"I'm the Jarl, you're all my men, any of your kills are mine."
"You can have my kills over my dead body. And if you kill me, who's going to look after you?" Bjorn shouted from nearly the other side of the compound as he strode back towards the bulk of the group.
"You don't think I can look after myself?" The group was relaxed, after so many years adventuring together, fighting battles and wars across almost the entirity of Arda with forays into Sharda and Elysium as well - they barely had to concentrate on such weak undead such as the ones they were fighting. Even skeletons - which moved with a quickness that seemed impossible for the lack of bone and muscles were despatched without so much as a thought.
The fort stank of death and decay and Lahsaa had pulled his bandana over his face to cover the worst of it and he leant against the pallisade to wipe the sweat from his brow. Although he had been a part of the family for almost eight years now he still had never truly gotten used to how tireless the group seemed they enjoyed a fight. This wasn't fighting for their life, this was almost a game to them. But the sorcerer was still on edge, and cast his eyes out across the wastes of Tholon where they had spent the last three month raiding the countries borders to give them the distraction enough to sneak into the Mountain of Night for the second time in three years and finally put an end to the Liche of Eternal Dusk - the ruler of the blasted land - and its pet Dracoliche.
Although necromantically tainted soulfire permeated everything in soulfire, something was different here. It seemed to be building up on the horizon and the mage did not like it one bit.
Follow orders as you're told, make their yellow blood run cold. Fight until you die or drop a force like ours is hard to stop. Close your mind to stress and pain, fight till you're no longer sane. Let not one damn cur pass by, how many of them can we make die!
"Jarl! I think it's really time to go now!" Lahsaa called as seemingly the last undead fell.
Ragnar looked up at the mage, noting the urgency etched across his face and nodded his agreement. "Ja, we need drink! And decent Llaminusian food! And women in our beds!" A cheer went up around the Llaminusians as Lahsaa's lips twitched into a smile. As they started to gather round the Jarl in the middle of the courtyard one lone skeleton appeared at the gate, shambling towards the group. Olaf, Bjorin, Hati, Arya and Saga glanced first at each other and then rushed for the skeleton all at once. Hati - the tallest and faster as the units scout looked to take the lead until Olaf swung out a mace to trip him. In retaliation, Hati swung the haft of his spear, tripping the bald man as he ran. Arya and Saga outstripped Bjorn and both had raised their weapons to crush the skeleton when it exploded into pieces in front of them. They skidded to a halt, confused, and looking around wildly, Saga noticing Lahsaa with an outstretched hand and a smirk on his face.
"No fair Lahsaa! It was mine!" the devotee wailed, pouting slightly as Arya laughed, pushing the younger woman lightly
"Stop fucking about now." Ragnar called. "We need to head for the gorge, we've done everything we've needed to do we've gotten everyone out, prisoners, the Ithronian army, even some who have seen the evil of Tholon's ways." the was a slightly manic glint in his eye. "Now we go home! Kharach's Black Hand strike again!" he roared, raising his mace.
Some quarter of an hour later, the group neared the Twilight Gorge - one of the few ones to sneak into Tholon as they had which had been just what they had needed for this. It had taken Ragnar and the Einherjar seven years to gather all the evidence they had needed to prove that Tholon was working against the Empire and even then Axir itself had refused to act. So - with the backing of most of the rest of the Empire and with their armies acting as distraction Ragnar - general of all of Ithrons armies - had led the adventurers of Ithron into Tholon and cut off their leadership, stopping many of the evil practices that took place in the hive of evil that was the Mountain of Night.
The gorge was narrow - wide enough only for seven people to stand side by side and it had been the perfect place to push through largely undetected - and cut through cliffs nearly one hundred feet high.
Here they stopped, looking back at the country of Tholon, each with a satisfied look on their face.
"The pits of Tholon will dry up, the wells of debauchary and the abominations they raise will rot and one day, life will return to this accursed land." Fith intoned, casting his hand through the air, runestones between each of his fingers, the symbols on the carved wood glowing faintly. "We have done a wonderous thing in this place my Jarl, the skalds will tell tales of it for hundreds of years to come. And you! Your name will live on throughout history. Jarl Ragnar Morkai of the Einherjar! Best of all the generals of the southland of Ithron! Conquorer of Tholon, the damned land!"
"Conquorer of Tholon, I like that." Ragnar mused, scratching his chin. "You'll have to make sure the tale is told Fith. Tell it far and wide!"
Fith grinned, "What else would a skald do Jarl, if not tell the greatest of stor...." his stopped mid sentence as he looked into the air, up at the rockface. Some twenty foot above them sat a raven, watching the group through impassively black eyes. It seemed to meet the Seers eyes who closed his mouth slowly. "So, he said after a few seconds. "The time has come."
Guard your women and children well, send these bastards back to hell. We'll teach them the ways of war, they won't come here any more. Use your shield and use your head, fight till every one is dead. Raise the flag up to the sky, how many of them can we make die!
"Something's following us!" Lahsaa exclaimed urgently, disappearing from the spot he had been stood and appearing some twenty foot up the rock face, clinging to the stone tightly. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped, the word "Gods..." escaping as a breath.
"Lahsa'! What is it?" Arya called up. The mage didn't answer and Hati picked up a rock, hurling it at Lahsaa, making a sharp cracking noise as it struck the wall mere inches from the mages head. In a second, Lahsaa was on the ground again, disappearing and reappearing in front of the Jarl.
"An undead army follows us. I... I don't know how, I don't know who leads them but..." he was breathless and pale, fighting to keep his voice steady. "Jarl, from the size of the necromantic aura - there must be thousands of them. Heading straight for here. There's more there than the group of adventurers on the other side of this valley could ever hope to destroy.
Ragnar scowled. "Fucking Tholon, always more abominations hidden away. There is more undead in Tholon than there is flakes of snow in the homeland."
"How far?" Hati urged Lahsaa, catching the mages green robes. Lahsaa stammered for a moment, shaking his head. "Lahsaa!"
"I... a quarter of an hour at most!" he said desperately. "It's not long enough, not to seal the gorge like we planned! It's ten minutes to the other side at a fast run and then another twenty to make the preparations.
The group fell silent. The joviality of just an hour before lost completely as they each considered their options.
"We need to hold them here." Bjorn's voice was like a death knell, but each of them knew it was true. Further into the gorge it widened out and wasn't nearly as defensible as this end, this was the only place they could hold it.
"But... all the supplies are back at the other end." Lahsaa said slowly, knowing where this was likely to go and determined to talk them all out of it before the idea could really sink in. "We won't be able to bring it down and fight off the undead."
"No Lahsa'. You won't be able to." Arya's voice was small, but unwavering.
Lahsaa looked at the faces of each of the men and women he had come to know and love as family for near enough a decade. "No..."
"Can you think of another way sorcerer?" Skade said impassively. "The undead can't be allowed back into Llaminusia, we're the only ones here to stay and defend it."
Lahsaa's breath quickened as his mind raced, trying to think of another way, a way that meant they wouldn't die in this Gods forsaken land.
"Someone still needs to back and set up the explosives though Ragnar." Hati said slowly. "Or at least send back instructions on how to do it."
Ragnar nodded at his brother and turned tot he mage stood behind him who was still working out how to save them all.
"Lahsaa. I have one last order for you, then you are freed from your duty as my bondsman."
The mage glanced up at the bigger man, the Jarl's name forming weakly on his lips. "Ragnar..."
"You are to go with Skade and Fith back Llaminusia and do what you need to do to collapse this ravine, everything you need we know is there. You will do it as fast as you can. And we will stay and keep the undead away here."
"Ragnar... no... I can't leave you all." Lahsaa said desperately.
"I can tell Lahsaa how to set it up Jarl, I don't need to head back with him." Skade's voice cut across the Ithronian.
"This is my word as Jarl. It cannot be done without you Lahsaa and witch - I'm not sure which I fear more of your mother, grandmother and grandfather but none of them will forgive me if this is where you fall. You must take your mothers place, remember. And there is still the work of the land that you haven't yet complete."
Ragnar turrned on Fith as each of the rest looked on, the enormity of what they now had to do sinking in. "Seer, you go back with them and spread the word of what we do here now..."
The seer shook his head. "I'm sorry my Jarl. But I cannot. I cannot run away from my fate and my fate is here with each of you. I've seen it. It was the first thing I saw when I was a babe and now... It comes to pass."
Ragnar frowned, but nodded wordlessly. "Very well - I think the fates might smile on us if we keep our Seer with us."
The Jarl turned back to the mage and the witch. "You know what you must do. Don't waste time fucking around here. Go!"
"But... Ragnar..." tears streaked down the Ithronians cheeks, desperate to find another way out of this.
"FUCKING GO!" Ragnar roared, raising his mace.
Lahsaa stood his ground, dashing the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. He raised a hand and spoke a flurry of words that meant nothing to any of the Llaminusians. Magic flared around the group, weapons began to glow and auras surrounded each of the seven that were about to sacrifice themselves.
"You were not bad for a weak, Ithronian bloodmage." Hati called to him with a sombre smile, raising his spear.
Arya and Saga rushed the mage, both of them hugged in. Fresh tears fell from the Ithronians eyes as it broke far too quickly and both the women joined their place on the line.
"I still don't like you." Bjorn sneered, before his expression softened. "Hati is right though."
"Lahsaa, Skade - sing out sagas through the width and breadth of Arda. Just don't put the words in a book... this tale is better than parchment and ink. Fateweaver be with you."
"Find us in the halls." Olaf called over. "We'll be at the table making the most noise."
"Thank you all." Lahsaa choked out as tears obscured his vision again.
"You can thank us by making sure none of these undead make it through to Llaminusia." Ragnar told him. "Go."
Together, Lahsaa and Skade turned from the group, running as fast as they could through the gourge.
Dawn has broke, the time has come, move your feet to a marching drum. We'll win the war and pay the toll, we'll fight as one in heart and soul. Midnight mare and blood red roan, fight to keep this land your own. Sound the horn and call the cry, how many of them can we make die.
"Seven of us. The gorge is wide enough to fit Seven. Seven is auspicious." Fith nodded, handing fishing a small jar of blue woad and inscribing sigils on the skin of each of them.
"Each of the Seven will smile of us for this." Saga said.
"Kharach most of us." Ragnar nodded, pulling out a jar of black dye and running it over his right hand. "As we are his Black Hand." he pressed his hand over the left eye of each of his Einherjar in turn, before turning it on his own face. "He sent us to Ithron for a purpose. And that purpose ends here. Even if this is the biggest fucking army that Tholon has raised, we are here to destroy it, Why is that?"
"Because we're the fucking Einherjar!" they all roared back, raising their weapons high.
"Ja! Too fucking right we are. And are we afraid of a bunch of pissy undead? That we were all pissing on when we were still sucking at our mothers teats?"
"No Jarl!"
"We're going to FIGHT! We're going to destroy them all. We're going to let them know what it means to fear the Einherjar! And fear Kharach"
"For Kharach!"
"For Kharach! For the Seven! We are the Einherjar! We are the Black Hand! HAIL TO THE RAVEN!" Ragnar raise the units banner high into the air, and a religious aura glowed around his, bathing them all in a holy light.
"HAIL TO THE RAVEN!" echoed Ragnar's men.
Silence fell as the mists thickened around them, and slowly - out of the gloom the undead started to appear. Row upon row, upon row of skeletons, zombies, animates, feyands and other abominations besides.
The Einherjar wall, indomitable against countless foes across Arda readied itself as Arya began to sing, each of the Einherjar picking up with the words just several words in. "Axes flash, broadswords swing, shining armour's piecing ring. Horses run with a polished shield, fight those bastards till they yield. Midnight mare and blood red roan, fight to keep this land your own. Sound the horn and call the cry...
The battle joined as the Einherjar roared the last line loud enough for the Gods themselves to hear. "How many of them can we make die!"
((Song credit: Heather Alexander - March Of Cambreadth))
"Jarl! They're out! We're the last ones left." Lahsaa Nethir shouted often the vicious melee despatching a pair of skeletons easily with his quarterstaff, blowing away a third with a blast of magic.
"About time! The smell of this corrupt air is worse than Fith's cooking." Ragnar Morkai snarled, batting aside a pair of animates with his shield as if they were nothing, one collosal mace blow destroying another three.
"Fith's cooking is worse than the witches lab? Really?" his elder brother Hati laughed, decimating yet more undead with his spear, running four or five zombies through with one thrust before tearing it through.
"Hey Fith, perhaps you should take lessons?" Arya Ardaddottir's laugh rang out over the clash and ring of steel on steel and crushing of bone, as she easily swatted away half a dozen feyunds that had charged her from behind as if hoping to take her by surprise.
"Ja, though only if we want something else in the house that can kill us." Saga Bjorndottir's laugh was jovial as she wove gracefully in and out of the undead that still pushed forward into the small fort that they had been calling home for the past month. The undead swung for her, but each swung was too slow and they were sent toppling to the floor before they could register her movement.
Olaf Hargeson's laugh was deep and throaty as he waded through lines of skeletons with two maces drawn sending bone and rotten flesh spinning to each side as he stroke forward. "There's enough in the house that could kill us already! I'd be more scared of the food turning us into frogs, or worse."
"Fith is more likely to turn himself into a frog in the process." Skade's voice was serious, but Lahsaa - closest to her, noted the twinkle in her eye and the corners of her lips upturned.
"Pah! I don't need the witches potion tricky to bring curses down on each of you... But it'll be your crotches that itch and rot, and boils breaking out on your rear!" Fith the Egilsonn hissed, flicking holy water from a vial in his hand. Where it caught the undead that advanced on him their rotten skin hissed and bubbled, breaking the foul magics that bound them and forcing their collapse.
"My boot with be in your mouth before you try your curses on me again." Bjorn grunted humourlessly as he swung a large double handed mace in a large arc - obliterating a massive swathe of undead creatures. "Does this mean we can get out of this shit hole, Jarl?"
"Ja. When we have killed the rest in this fort!" Ragnar shot back, as he destroyed yet more of the risen dead. "I hope you've all been keeping count."
"I didn't realise you could count past ten my Jarl, you have your boots on after all. So we're going to all beat you easily. Even Lahsa'." Arya's called out mischeviously.
"I'm the Jarl, you're all my men, any of your kills are mine."
"You can have my kills over my dead body. And if you kill me, who's going to look after you?" Bjorn shouted from nearly the other side of the compound as he strode back towards the bulk of the group.
"You don't think I can look after myself?" The group was relaxed, after so many years adventuring together, fighting battles and wars across almost the entirity of Arda with forays into Sharda and Elysium as well - they barely had to concentrate on such weak undead such as the ones they were fighting. Even skeletons - which moved with a quickness that seemed impossible for the lack of bone and muscles were despatched without so much as a thought.
The fort stank of death and decay and Lahsaa had pulled his bandana over his face to cover the worst of it and he leant against the pallisade to wipe the sweat from his brow. Although he had been a part of the family for almost eight years now he still had never truly gotten used to how tireless the group seemed they enjoyed a fight. This wasn't fighting for their life, this was almost a game to them. But the sorcerer was still on edge, and cast his eyes out across the wastes of Tholon where they had spent the last three month raiding the countries borders to give them the distraction enough to sneak into the Mountain of Night for the second time in three years and finally put an end to the Liche of Eternal Dusk - the ruler of the blasted land - and its pet Dracoliche.
Although necromantically tainted soulfire permeated everything in soulfire, something was different here. It seemed to be building up on the horizon and the mage did not like it one bit.
Follow orders as you're told, make their yellow blood run cold. Fight until you die or drop a force like ours is hard to stop. Close your mind to stress and pain, fight till you're no longer sane. Let not one damn cur pass by, how many of them can we make die!
"Jarl! I think it's really time to go now!" Lahsaa called as seemingly the last undead fell.
Ragnar looked up at the mage, noting the urgency etched across his face and nodded his agreement. "Ja, we need drink! And decent Llaminusian food! And women in our beds!" A cheer went up around the Llaminusians as Lahsaa's lips twitched into a smile. As they started to gather round the Jarl in the middle of the courtyard one lone skeleton appeared at the gate, shambling towards the group. Olaf, Bjorin, Hati, Arya and Saga glanced first at each other and then rushed for the skeleton all at once. Hati - the tallest and faster as the units scout looked to take the lead until Olaf swung out a mace to trip him. In retaliation, Hati swung the haft of his spear, tripping the bald man as he ran. Arya and Saga outstripped Bjorn and both had raised their weapons to crush the skeleton when it exploded into pieces in front of them. They skidded to a halt, confused, and looking around wildly, Saga noticing Lahsaa with an outstretched hand and a smirk on his face.
"No fair Lahsaa! It was mine!" the devotee wailed, pouting slightly as Arya laughed, pushing the younger woman lightly
"Stop fucking about now." Ragnar called. "We need to head for the gorge, we've done everything we've needed to do we've gotten everyone out, prisoners, the Ithronian army, even some who have seen the evil of Tholon's ways." the was a slightly manic glint in his eye. "Now we go home! Kharach's Black Hand strike again!" he roared, raising his mace.
Some quarter of an hour later, the group neared the Twilight Gorge - one of the few ones to sneak into Tholon as they had which had been just what they had needed for this. It had taken Ragnar and the Einherjar seven years to gather all the evidence they had needed to prove that Tholon was working against the Empire and even then Axir itself had refused to act. So - with the backing of most of the rest of the Empire and with their armies acting as distraction Ragnar - general of all of Ithrons armies - had led the adventurers of Ithron into Tholon and cut off their leadership, stopping many of the evil practices that took place in the hive of evil that was the Mountain of Night.
The gorge was narrow - wide enough only for seven people to stand side by side and it had been the perfect place to push through largely undetected - and cut through cliffs nearly one hundred feet high.
Here they stopped, looking back at the country of Tholon, each with a satisfied look on their face.
"The pits of Tholon will dry up, the wells of debauchary and the abominations they raise will rot and one day, life will return to this accursed land." Fith intoned, casting his hand through the air, runestones between each of his fingers, the symbols on the carved wood glowing faintly. "We have done a wonderous thing in this place my Jarl, the skalds will tell tales of it for hundreds of years to come. And you! Your name will live on throughout history. Jarl Ragnar Morkai of the Einherjar! Best of all the generals of the southland of Ithron! Conquorer of Tholon, the damned land!"
"Conquorer of Tholon, I like that." Ragnar mused, scratching his chin. "You'll have to make sure the tale is told Fith. Tell it far and wide!"
Fith grinned, "What else would a skald do Jarl, if not tell the greatest of stor...." his stopped mid sentence as he looked into the air, up at the rockface. Some twenty foot above them sat a raven, watching the group through impassively black eyes. It seemed to meet the Seers eyes who closed his mouth slowly. "So, he said after a few seconds. "The time has come."
Guard your women and children well, send these bastards back to hell. We'll teach them the ways of war, they won't come here any more. Use your shield and use your head, fight till every one is dead. Raise the flag up to the sky, how many of them can we make die!
"Something's following us!" Lahsaa exclaimed urgently, disappearing from the spot he had been stood and appearing some twenty foot up the rock face, clinging to the stone tightly. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped, the word "Gods..." escaping as a breath.
"Lahsa'! What is it?" Arya called up. The mage didn't answer and Hati picked up a rock, hurling it at Lahsaa, making a sharp cracking noise as it struck the wall mere inches from the mages head. In a second, Lahsaa was on the ground again, disappearing and reappearing in front of the Jarl.
"An undead army follows us. I... I don't know how, I don't know who leads them but..." he was breathless and pale, fighting to keep his voice steady. "Jarl, from the size of the necromantic aura - there must be thousands of them. Heading straight for here. There's more there than the group of adventurers on the other side of this valley could ever hope to destroy.
Ragnar scowled. "Fucking Tholon, always more abominations hidden away. There is more undead in Tholon than there is flakes of snow in the homeland."
"How far?" Hati urged Lahsaa, catching the mages green robes. Lahsaa stammered for a moment, shaking his head. "Lahsaa!"
"I... a quarter of an hour at most!" he said desperately. "It's not long enough, not to seal the gorge like we planned! It's ten minutes to the other side at a fast run and then another twenty to make the preparations.
The group fell silent. The joviality of just an hour before lost completely as they each considered their options.
"We need to hold them here." Bjorn's voice was like a death knell, but each of them knew it was true. Further into the gorge it widened out and wasn't nearly as defensible as this end, this was the only place they could hold it.
"But... all the supplies are back at the other end." Lahsaa said slowly, knowing where this was likely to go and determined to talk them all out of it before the idea could really sink in. "We won't be able to bring it down and fight off the undead."
"No Lahsa'. You won't be able to." Arya's voice was small, but unwavering.
Lahsaa looked at the faces of each of the men and women he had come to know and love as family for near enough a decade. "No..."
"Can you think of another way sorcerer?" Skade said impassively. "The undead can't be allowed back into Llaminusia, we're the only ones here to stay and defend it."
Lahsaa's breath quickened as his mind raced, trying to think of another way, a way that meant they wouldn't die in this Gods forsaken land.
"Someone still needs to back and set up the explosives though Ragnar." Hati said slowly. "Or at least send back instructions on how to do it."
Ragnar nodded at his brother and turned tot he mage stood behind him who was still working out how to save them all.
"Lahsaa. I have one last order for you, then you are freed from your duty as my bondsman."
The mage glanced up at the bigger man, the Jarl's name forming weakly on his lips. "Ragnar..."
"You are to go with Skade and Fith back Llaminusia and do what you need to do to collapse this ravine, everything you need we know is there. You will do it as fast as you can. And we will stay and keep the undead away here."
"Ragnar... no... I can't leave you all." Lahsaa said desperately.
"I can tell Lahsaa how to set it up Jarl, I don't need to head back with him." Skade's voice cut across the Ithronian.
"This is my word as Jarl. It cannot be done without you Lahsaa and witch - I'm not sure which I fear more of your mother, grandmother and grandfather but none of them will forgive me if this is where you fall. You must take your mothers place, remember. And there is still the work of the land that you haven't yet complete."
Ragnar turrned on Fith as each of the rest looked on, the enormity of what they now had to do sinking in. "Seer, you go back with them and spread the word of what we do here now..."
The seer shook his head. "I'm sorry my Jarl. But I cannot. I cannot run away from my fate and my fate is here with each of you. I've seen it. It was the first thing I saw when I was a babe and now... It comes to pass."
Ragnar frowned, but nodded wordlessly. "Very well - I think the fates might smile on us if we keep our Seer with us."
The Jarl turned back to the mage and the witch. "You know what you must do. Don't waste time fucking around here. Go!"
"But... Ragnar..." tears streaked down the Ithronians cheeks, desperate to find another way out of this.
"FUCKING GO!" Ragnar roared, raising his mace.
Lahsaa stood his ground, dashing the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. He raised a hand and spoke a flurry of words that meant nothing to any of the Llaminusians. Magic flared around the group, weapons began to glow and auras surrounded each of the seven that were about to sacrifice themselves.
"You were not bad for a weak, Ithronian bloodmage." Hati called to him with a sombre smile, raising his spear.
Arya and Saga rushed the mage, both of them hugged in. Fresh tears fell from the Ithronians eyes as it broke far too quickly and both the women joined their place on the line.
"I still don't like you." Bjorn sneered, before his expression softened. "Hati is right though."
"Lahsaa, Skade - sing out sagas through the width and breadth of Arda. Just don't put the words in a book... this tale is better than parchment and ink. Fateweaver be with you."
"Find us in the halls." Olaf called over. "We'll be at the table making the most noise."
"Thank you all." Lahsaa choked out as tears obscured his vision again.
"You can thank us by making sure none of these undead make it through to Llaminusia." Ragnar told him. "Go."
Together, Lahsaa and Skade turned from the group, running as fast as they could through the gourge.
Dawn has broke, the time has come, move your feet to a marching drum. We'll win the war and pay the toll, we'll fight as one in heart and soul. Midnight mare and blood red roan, fight to keep this land your own. Sound the horn and call the cry, how many of them can we make die.
"Seven of us. The gorge is wide enough to fit Seven. Seven is auspicious." Fith nodded, handing fishing a small jar of blue woad and inscribing sigils on the skin of each of them.
"Each of the Seven will smile of us for this." Saga said.
"Kharach most of us." Ragnar nodded, pulling out a jar of black dye and running it over his right hand. "As we are his Black Hand." he pressed his hand over the left eye of each of his Einherjar in turn, before turning it on his own face. "He sent us to Ithron for a purpose. And that purpose ends here. Even if this is the biggest fucking army that Tholon has raised, we are here to destroy it, Why is that?"
"Because we're the fucking Einherjar!" they all roared back, raising their weapons high.
"Ja! Too fucking right we are. And are we afraid of a bunch of pissy undead? That we were all pissing on when we were still sucking at our mothers teats?"
"No Jarl!"
"We're going to FIGHT! We're going to destroy them all. We're going to let them know what it means to fear the Einherjar! And fear Kharach"
"For Kharach!"
"For Kharach! For the Seven! We are the Einherjar! We are the Black Hand! HAIL TO THE RAVEN!" Ragnar raise the units banner high into the air, and a religious aura glowed around his, bathing them all in a holy light.
"HAIL TO THE RAVEN!" echoed Ragnar's men.
Silence fell as the mists thickened around them, and slowly - out of the gloom the undead started to appear. Row upon row, upon row of skeletons, zombies, animates, feyands and other abominations besides.
The Einherjar wall, indomitable against countless foes across Arda readied itself as Arya began to sing, each of the Einherjar picking up with the words just several words in. "Axes flash, broadswords swing, shining armour's piecing ring. Horses run with a polished shield, fight those bastards till they yield. Midnight mare and blood red roan, fight to keep this land your own. Sound the horn and call the cry...
The battle joined as the Einherjar roared the last line loud enough for the Gods themselves to hear. "How many of them can we make die!"
((Song credit: Heather Alexander - March Of Cambreadth))
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Misery in Middale - It begins...
Ugh. Just... ugh. I swear tomorrows will be more interesting. Sorry.
---
Lahsaa awoke with a start to tapping at his door and his name being hissed urgently. Pulling on a pair of breeches and a shirt he stumbled over to the door in the gloom of his bedroom and pulled it open as quietly as he could. "Wha...?" he groaned sleepily, before he was pushed back inside the room roughly by Leanna who entered and closed the door behind her. "Leanna? What the...?"
"I'm sorry," she said apologetically with a quick glance around the room to make sure they were alone. "But... Remember I said I needed your help today?"
The young man nodded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"I need to know if I can still count on you. We need to leave soon if you're still wanting to help."
Lahsaa bit his lip, recalling the tongue lashing he had had from his father the day before about not doing enough work and running off on flights of fancy. On the other hand, he had promised her. He nodded resolutely.
She smiled. "I need you to say it Lahsaa. You're wanting to come with me, voluntarily?"
"I do. It's my choice - however I can help, I want to help." he said.
Leanna smiled, not quite believing how easy this had been to convince him and as well at the sudden warmth from the scroll hidden in her robes. "Thank you." she said, sincerely. "But we need to leave soon... we have things to set up. Can you be downstairs in fifteen minutes."
He glanced out of the window where dawn was just about starting to break. "Of course."
She darted over to him and kissed him softly on the cheek. "You're a wonderful man Lahsaa." she said, before turning and fleeing the room, leaving him to stand in a daze.
A quarter of an hour later he emerged into the small courtyard, dressing and carrying a staff. Their eyes met and Leanna nodded. "We need to be quick. Let's go."
---
Dawn found Gregory unmoved from his seat by what had been the fire. He watched as the sun made its appearance over the horizon in the east and sighed heavily as he stretched the ache and cramp out of his muscles. He began restoking the fire, setting down new wood for the small embers to consume before unpacking some of his rations - a meagre meal for what he needed for the day but unable to face or stomach much more. It was perhaps an hour later before Aylix emerged. The captain was red eyed and had a haunted look on his face and he sat next to the fire wordlessly, pulling out a hip flask and taking a very long drink.
"A bit early to be drinking isn't it Captain?" Gregory said, his voice a croak after being unused for the last six or more hours. Aylix didn't reply, and stared hard into the fire as if he had lost something within the small flames.
The pair sat in silence for a while longer until Eliana and then Grundown appeared, bidding the pair morning greetings before preparing themselves for the coming day. Crow and Addy were the last to emerge - both having an expressions on their face that mixed exaltion and trepidation on their faces as they walked hand in hand to join the group.
The silence grew between them, as they all sat awkwardly around the small fire, unsure of what to say to each other before the days events, the enomrity of it all coming back to weigh on their shoulders harder than it had done for the past few days.
In the distance, the bells in the town hall in Netherthong struck eight.
Aylix stood suddenly, draining his hip flask. "I'll meet you all outside the town, time for me to gather the milita." his voice seemed pained, but was said as if daring them to question him. "Don't be late" the mercenary walked off slowly, his hammer rested on his shoulder.
As if it was a cue, the rest of the group stood, packing away none essential kit into their tents before armouring up and checking weapons and equipment before they met back at the fire.
"Ten bells. If you're not there, we will have to leave without you." Gregory said softly, glancing at each of his friends in turn. "We all know what we have to do, may Crowan grant us the courage to see it through."
"And may Tralda grant us all the fortune we need." Addy said with a nod, clutching at her holy symbol with the hand that wasn't clutching Crow's hand.
"Aye, lets be off then." Grundown grinned as the five parted ways.
Above them, the sun blazed across the clear blue sky, chilled only by a slight autumn breeze - the beauty of the day almost mocking what they were shortly to do.
---
Lahsaa awoke with a start to tapping at his door and his name being hissed urgently. Pulling on a pair of breeches and a shirt he stumbled over to the door in the gloom of his bedroom and pulled it open as quietly as he could. "Wha...?" he groaned sleepily, before he was pushed back inside the room roughly by Leanna who entered and closed the door behind her. "Leanna? What the...?"
"I'm sorry," she said apologetically with a quick glance around the room to make sure they were alone. "But... Remember I said I needed your help today?"
The young man nodded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"I need to know if I can still count on you. We need to leave soon if you're still wanting to help."
Lahsaa bit his lip, recalling the tongue lashing he had had from his father the day before about not doing enough work and running off on flights of fancy. On the other hand, he had promised her. He nodded resolutely.
She smiled. "I need you to say it Lahsaa. You're wanting to come with me, voluntarily?"
"I do. It's my choice - however I can help, I want to help." he said.
Leanna smiled, not quite believing how easy this had been to convince him and as well at the sudden warmth from the scroll hidden in her robes. "Thank you." she said, sincerely. "But we need to leave soon... we have things to set up. Can you be downstairs in fifteen minutes."
He glanced out of the window where dawn was just about starting to break. "Of course."
She darted over to him and kissed him softly on the cheek. "You're a wonderful man Lahsaa." she said, before turning and fleeing the room, leaving him to stand in a daze.
A quarter of an hour later he emerged into the small courtyard, dressing and carrying a staff. Their eyes met and Leanna nodded. "We need to be quick. Let's go."
---
Dawn found Gregory unmoved from his seat by what had been the fire. He watched as the sun made its appearance over the horizon in the east and sighed heavily as he stretched the ache and cramp out of his muscles. He began restoking the fire, setting down new wood for the small embers to consume before unpacking some of his rations - a meagre meal for what he needed for the day but unable to face or stomach much more. It was perhaps an hour later before Aylix emerged. The captain was red eyed and had a haunted look on his face and he sat next to the fire wordlessly, pulling out a hip flask and taking a very long drink.
"A bit early to be drinking isn't it Captain?" Gregory said, his voice a croak after being unused for the last six or more hours. Aylix didn't reply, and stared hard into the fire as if he had lost something within the small flames.
The pair sat in silence for a while longer until Eliana and then Grundown appeared, bidding the pair morning greetings before preparing themselves for the coming day. Crow and Addy were the last to emerge - both having an expressions on their face that mixed exaltion and trepidation on their faces as they walked hand in hand to join the group.
The silence grew between them, as they all sat awkwardly around the small fire, unsure of what to say to each other before the days events, the enomrity of it all coming back to weigh on their shoulders harder than it had done for the past few days.
In the distance, the bells in the town hall in Netherthong struck eight.
Aylix stood suddenly, draining his hip flask. "I'll meet you all outside the town, time for me to gather the milita." his voice seemed pained, but was said as if daring them to question him. "Don't be late" the mercenary walked off slowly, his hammer rested on his shoulder.
As if it was a cue, the rest of the group stood, packing away none essential kit into their tents before armouring up and checking weapons and equipment before they met back at the fire.
"Ten bells. If you're not there, we will have to leave without you." Gregory said softly, glancing at each of his friends in turn. "We all know what we have to do, may Crowan grant us the courage to see it through."
"And may Tralda grant us all the fortune we need." Addy said with a nod, clutching at her holy symbol with the hand that wasn't clutching Crow's hand.
"Aye, lets be off then." Grundown grinned as the five parted ways.
Above them, the sun blazed across the clear blue sky, chilled only by a slight autumn breeze - the beauty of the day almost mocking what they were shortly to do.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Misery in Middale - The night before the day after...
Not brilliant, but it's been over two weeks since I last wrote Misery, so needed to get back into the characters again. I meant to include Leanna/Lahsaa at the end, but I couldn't think of a scene that didn't hook the two up and that just doesn't happen...
Enjoy. Sorry for how long it's been away.
====
"What do you think he meant by great loss?" Addy said quietly as Crow handed her a beaker of mulled mead. The Kharachian shrugged his shoulders as he sat close to her, his gaze downcast.
"I don't know... Longstorians who live wild like that are said to be able to read things from the stars and other such things - as if Tralda has written the path of everyones fate in hidden places on Arda and only those who know where to look and how to read them can discern what they may. They're probably reading it wrong."
Addy glanced at Crow hopefully. "You think so?"
Crow said nothing, but nodded as he sipped his mead.
"What about you, Aylix? Think they've read it wrong?" Gregory asked the captain quietly on the other side of fireplace.
Aylix took a long slug on the bottle of whiskey he had been nursing, wincing hard as the liquid burned down his throat. "There's not much more I can lose." he muttered, staring into the flames.
"Load of shite if you ask me." Grundown grunted. "On'y one who knows what's gonna 'appen is the Great Bearded Goddess of Fate and Fortune. Why would She write it in the stars for some mutts to read?"
The group fell silent again, with only the crackles and pops of the fire the only noise around them.
Addy stood suddenly, blinking away tears. "Goodnight." she said turning away fromt he group and heading for her tent.
The group watched her go, slightly stunned by the sudden departure of the Traldan. Aylix however, was staring hard at Crow.
"What?" the Kharachian asked, annoyed after a few seconds.
"You're such an idiot. Go after her Crow. This may be your last night together on Arda. She's gonna want to spend it with you. Trust me." the Captain said slowly, as if having to explain something very simple to a child.
The Kharachian frowned at the mercenary, looking at his brother as if for support. Gregory merely nodded, his eyes flicking in the direction that Addy had disappeared in.
Aylix watched him go, mild dispair on his face. "Gods help your families bloodline if you're both that clueless." he shot at Gregory before standing himself, shakily. "Looks like I'm curling up with this bottle and my hammer tonight. See you in the morning."
Grundown snorted and shook his head. "Bloody humans... always thinking with their groins. Gonna turn in myself, one of us needs to carry the rest of you tomorrow at least." the dwarf left to find his own bed.
Gregory breathed a laugh, pulling a whetstone from his pouch and starting to run it over his sword.
"It'll be alright Gregory. We know what we're doing is right and we'll all follow you to the end. I know you feel some responsibility for all of this, but it's not your fault. Keep your faith in Crowa and your belief in your friends. We'll make it through." Eliana said softly, noting the concern etched on the High Fathers face. Gregory's gaze flicked up to the elf as she sat, watching him and he shrugged, nonplussed, looking back to his sword. "I know. I'm not worried." he said, the lie obvious even to him.
"I know you'd never admit it, but that's part of courage, is it not? Admitting when you are scared but not succumbing to that fear." Eliana's voice had moved and when Gregory looked up he found her kneeling in front of him. "Use the concern to temper your resolve. I know you fear what you must do tomorrow." the elf said sadly.
"Eliana I..." he started, his voice cracking as tears pricked the corners of his eyes.
"I know." the Elf said, kissing him softly on the lips. "I know." she stood suddenly and started towards the trees. "Get some rest High Father. Tomorrow brings war."
Gregory watched the Elf leave, tears flowly silently down his face as he turned back to his work.
---
"Addy? Are you okay?" the question sounded stupid even as it reached his lips, as the Kharachian pulled back the flap of the tent she was in. The Traldan answered by grabbing the front of his robes and pulling him inside, kissing him forcefully.
"Crow..." she said breathlessly seconds later as the kiss broke, "Whatever you do, don't talk, don't try and apologise, don't try and promise anything. This is all the reassurance I want right now..."
Crow kissed her back in reply as they fell amongst the blankets laid out in the tent...
Enjoy. Sorry for how long it's been away.
====
"What do you think he meant by great loss?" Addy said quietly as Crow handed her a beaker of mulled mead. The Kharachian shrugged his shoulders as he sat close to her, his gaze downcast.
"I don't know... Longstorians who live wild like that are said to be able to read things from the stars and other such things - as if Tralda has written the path of everyones fate in hidden places on Arda and only those who know where to look and how to read them can discern what they may. They're probably reading it wrong."
Addy glanced at Crow hopefully. "You think so?"
Crow said nothing, but nodded as he sipped his mead.
"What about you, Aylix? Think they've read it wrong?" Gregory asked the captain quietly on the other side of fireplace.
Aylix took a long slug on the bottle of whiskey he had been nursing, wincing hard as the liquid burned down his throat. "There's not much more I can lose." he muttered, staring into the flames.
"Load of shite if you ask me." Grundown grunted. "On'y one who knows what's gonna 'appen is the Great Bearded Goddess of Fate and Fortune. Why would She write it in the stars for some mutts to read?"
The group fell silent again, with only the crackles and pops of the fire the only noise around them.
Addy stood suddenly, blinking away tears. "Goodnight." she said turning away fromt he group and heading for her tent.
The group watched her go, slightly stunned by the sudden departure of the Traldan. Aylix however, was staring hard at Crow.
"What?" the Kharachian asked, annoyed after a few seconds.
"You're such an idiot. Go after her Crow. This may be your last night together on Arda. She's gonna want to spend it with you. Trust me." the Captain said slowly, as if having to explain something very simple to a child.
The Kharachian frowned at the mercenary, looking at his brother as if for support. Gregory merely nodded, his eyes flicking in the direction that Addy had disappeared in.
Aylix watched him go, mild dispair on his face. "Gods help your families bloodline if you're both that clueless." he shot at Gregory before standing himself, shakily. "Looks like I'm curling up with this bottle and my hammer tonight. See you in the morning."
Grundown snorted and shook his head. "Bloody humans... always thinking with their groins. Gonna turn in myself, one of us needs to carry the rest of you tomorrow at least." the dwarf left to find his own bed.
Gregory breathed a laugh, pulling a whetstone from his pouch and starting to run it over his sword.
"It'll be alright Gregory. We know what we're doing is right and we'll all follow you to the end. I know you feel some responsibility for all of this, but it's not your fault. Keep your faith in Crowa and your belief in your friends. We'll make it through." Eliana said softly, noting the concern etched on the High Fathers face. Gregory's gaze flicked up to the elf as she sat, watching him and he shrugged, nonplussed, looking back to his sword. "I know. I'm not worried." he said, the lie obvious even to him.
"I know you'd never admit it, but that's part of courage, is it not? Admitting when you are scared but not succumbing to that fear." Eliana's voice had moved and when Gregory looked up he found her kneeling in front of him. "Use the concern to temper your resolve. I know you fear what you must do tomorrow." the elf said sadly.
"Eliana I..." he started, his voice cracking as tears pricked the corners of his eyes.
"I know." the Elf said, kissing him softly on the lips. "I know." she stood suddenly and started towards the trees. "Get some rest High Father. Tomorrow brings war."
Gregory watched the Elf leave, tears flowly silently down his face as he turned back to his work.
---
"Addy? Are you okay?" the question sounded stupid even as it reached his lips, as the Kharachian pulled back the flap of the tent she was in. The Traldan answered by grabbing the front of his robes and pulling him inside, kissing him forcefully.
"Crow..." she said breathlessly seconds later as the kiss broke, "Whatever you do, don't talk, don't try and apologise, don't try and promise anything. This is all the reassurance I want right now..."
Crow kissed her back in reply as they fell amongst the blankets laid out in the tent...
Friday, May 18, 2012
Battle for Middale part 5 - Sacrifice
The end of this little story arc... Enjoy.
If you've enjoyed it, hated it, have critisms whatever, please comment either here, on twitter or on Facebook. It would be greatly appreciated.
Oh - it's the longest single bit of writing I've done for a long time too. =]
----
"No way! You've got no chance Ragnar. I'm not going to stay here while the rest of you fight on the front line." Rowan shouted angrily at the General. "You can't order me around, my place is on the front line with the rest. Someone else can stay."
Ragnar shook his head, staring impassively at the woman from the borderlands. "It's my fucking army and I am ordering you. And Lahsaa and our witch. You're staying back here to protect this rear camp. I need some good peoplle back here to make sure that those injured stay alive to get back up and fight. I'll make sure that a few of them get through so you don't get completely bored."
"No chance! My place is in the fore of the battle!" she insisted, drawing herself up to the fullest, yet still only reachng the tall Llaminusians chest.
"No. It's here. I'm telling you it's here. Call it payback for Berwickshire, whatever you want, you're staying here." Ragnar scowled, his fists clenching at his side.
"Ragnar, Rowan... this isn't the time to be arguing amongst ourselves..." Lahsaa interjected standing between the pair. "Jarl, is there no way she can join the front line? Surely there must be someone else who can stay back here if you're insisting some of us do?" his voice had a bitter edge to it as if he wasn't happy at staying back anyway.
Ragnar glanced at the three in front of him, Rowan, Skade and Lahsaa. The huntsmaster was seething, her fists balled indignantly at the order; Skade didn't look to happy about it either but seemed to have accepted it quietly - which slightly unnerved the Jarl and Lahsaa - as ever - seemed to be stuck in the middle of different groups of his friends trying to smooth out a peaceful resolution to conflict again. The General sighed, and pulled a hip flask from one of his pouches meeting Lahsaa's eyes briefly before offering it to Rowan. "Fine." he said, an angry edge to his voice.
"Fine what?" Rowan questioned suspiciously taking the flask and drinking from it. Ragnar smirked.
"If you want to be pissed at me I don't care. You stay here and protect the wounded." he said sternly, holding her gaze as he snatched back the hip flask, tucking it away and walking off.
"Yes General!" Rowan replied seemingly without realising, clapping her hands to her mouth. "You bastard! What on Arda have you done?"
"Nothing I wanted to. Potions of compulsion are expensive." he frowned as Lahsaa and Rowan both shouted protestations. "QUIET! I've put you here because I need you here. I'd rather have you up there with me. Now shut up, and do what I tell you!"
Rowan fell silent, though Lahsaa could see the strain in her face as she tried to speak hatred for the Llaminusian burning in her eyes.
The Jarl disappeared into the crowds quickly as the warhorns of the foulspawn sounded and a roar came from the distant end of the battlefield.
"Bastard..." Rowan coughed out, when she was able to speak again, turning in disgust to prepare defences in the healers camp as Lahsaa stared in the direction Ragnar had left.
The battle had scarecely rejoined and already the defenders in the healers camp had work as scouts from the surrounding woods came out dragging several wounded. "Goblins! Right behind us!" they shouted tearing past Lahsaa who had taken the side nearest the trees.
The mage had picked up a short spear and shield at some point, determined not to burn through his magic as he had done yesterday and rushed forward weapons raised to cover their retreat.
"Lahsaa! Get your ass over here!" came a shout from inside the tree line and he rushed forward to assist. Under the cover the the leaves above Elenor stood alone with her bow, unleashing a storm of arrows into the ranks of goblin scouts that rushed through the trees. The mage rushed to her side as she fired off the last pair of arrows and drew her sword. "Tralda... it's about time you showed up. Why aren't you in the battle line?"
Without the hail of arrows raining on them the goblins rushed forward to be met with thrusts from the short spear and the ranger swinging a sword and axe with deadly proficiancy.
"The Jarl had me, the witch and the Huntsmaster stay to help defend the healer camp." the mage grunted, kicking away a goblin who stuck to the spear a little too long, batting another away with the shield. "How's it going out there?"
"It...ugh..." Elenor stumbled as a goblin clubbed her from behind, dropping her to her knees. She reversed her grip on her sword and ran it under her arm into the greenskins chest, hacking it down as she stood for good measure. "It's not going well. They've brought out even bigger orcs - only the Seven know how. They're encased head to foot in black plate armour and they're at least as strong as an ogre. There's only a few of them but they're causing havoc."
Lahsaa ground his teeth together as the goblins - with more than three quarters of them now wormfood - turned tail and fled back towards their own camp. "Ragnar's handling it but - we've a handfull of knights left, at least one Crowan priest has called his final battle... Hati and Bjorn have gone through at least four trollstrengths and sixteen vials of swiftdeath oil each, Kavat's on one leg... One flank is being held by the school of Enchantment after Nysa managed to finally bring out fourteen automata that she'd been hiding away..." Elenor took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's madness out there Lahsaa. Adventurers that retired long ago have joined the fight as well... everyone is using absoutely everything they have and still there seems to be no end to them."
The scouts that had dragged the injured back into the camp came running over, a fresh pair of quivers with them. "Guild protector - here, we restocked for you." one of them said, handing over the arrows to which she nodded her thanks before they took off back into the woods.
"I have to go Lahsaa. Stay safe."
"And you." Lahsaa said, a note of desperation in his voice as he dropped his weapons and hugged his friend of so many years tightly. A brief aura of magic surrounded Elenor and her weapons briefly as the embrace broke. "Tralda be with you."
"Tralda be with all of us. I don't see many other ways that this is going to end well if not for her." she returned before disappearing into the undergrowth again.
Lahsaa glanced at his hands, thumbing each of the rings with his thumbs before collecting his spear and shield and heading back for camp.
"So! You puny humies are puttin' up a decent scrap! Maybe it's time I came out to play!" the voice bellowed impossibly loudly over the defenders, passing over them like a strong wind with a hint of rotten meat to it. It seemed to have a kind of echo to it - as if spoken by two mouths at the same time.
"What in the name of the Seven is that?" Lahsaa exclaimed, unable to see over the melee to find the source of the noise, looking up from bandaging Skade's leg.
"It has the smell of death about it, death and evil power... perhaps their leader has made themselves known at last?" the Llaminusian replied, a forlorn, distant look in her eyes.
"I am Kor'gresh Two Mind! This horde is mine! And my patience 'as worn thin with this little fight oomies! It'ron is mine! You 'ave nothing left to throw at us!"
"Another stinkin' ogre! With two heads so he's twice as ugly! You think you impress us? I am Jarl Ragnar Morkai! General of all of Ithron's armies. We're here to say fuck you to your foulspawn you shit! We'll be fighting to the last!" though the Jarl's voice was impressive enough to be held back in the healer camp, it was like a child screaming at a parent in comparison to Kor'gresh's boom.
The ogre magi laughed, booming over the line and causing some men to stagger. "Quite puny human!" it roared and clicked it's fingers like the crack of a falling tree.
Skade and Lahsaa - both recognising the sudden rush of magic - cried out futilily as if to stop as it Ragnar was nearly flattened by a rapid flurry of spells. His defenses and protections broke in seconds and he dropped to one knee.
"What was that?" Skade demanded incredelously, meeting Lahsaa's eyes.
"That... that was just a mute... but about fifty of them cast in one go... " Lahsaa stammered, his eyes were wide, and he had gone white with shock. "Whatever that is... I'm not sure the entire guild of mages together could stop it..."
"Lahsaa!" Rowan's shout snapped him out of it as she came running over. "Is there anything you can do about this potion? I must join the fight! I must!" her entire body seemed to tremble as she fought against the potions effects, desperate to help with the fight.
The mage opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again quickly. His eyes refused to meet hers and he gave a slight shake of his head. "No..." the reply was almost a whisper.
"... You... you're lying!" she said angrily.
The was another bellow and Lahsaa turned as another wave of power flashed over the left flank. He blanched as bodies flew into the air and screams carried on the wind. Letting out a long and shuddering breath again touching both rings.
"I'm sorry." he said softly, unloading the weapons he was carrying onto the floor and shedding his overrobe to be left in his shirt, trousers and plain green robe.
Kneeling next to Skade he hugged her tight. "Thank you. For everything Skade. Words can't convey just how thankful I am to you."
The Llaminusian met his eyes and understanding flashed between them, as she caught site of the magical artifacts on his hands. She nodded to him as he stood.
He turned to Rowan, who eyes him suspiciously not returning his hug as he embraced her. "Lahsaa, what are you doing?" she asked suspiciously.
"I think I'm about to win our game." he said, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. "Stay safe Rowan." he broke and turned to the battle line.
"Lahsaa! What are you doing? Lahsaa!"
The mage broke into a run, drawing his silver dagger and running it across the palms of both hands so they bled. Ahead, magic built up again.
Kor'gesh bellowed with laughter at the humans before him reeling from his magical assaults. "So... you lead this army of oomies and stunties and elf things?" it demanded, drawing itself up - towering over Ragnar as he stood again.
Unable to speak, the Llaminusian hawked up phlegm and spat at the ogre, raising his axe.
"Haw haw haw... you keep your word... you fight to the end... But... if I kill you, then I kill the guts of your army..." it raised both of its arms, "And afta my boys have eaten what they want, there'll be nothing left to stop us owning everythin'."Dark and powerful magics drew around it - visible even to the untrained as a vortex of black energy swirled like a hurricane around the ogre. "Time to die!" it bellowed, unleashing its spell.
An explosion of energy errupted around Ragnar, throwing bodies to the sides. Cries and shouts rose up, some unintelliganle, some desperate for the safety of the Jarl.
The defenders looked on anxiously as the smoke gradually cleared and were aghast to see Lahsaa standing in front of the Llaminusian, a barrier of green energy surrounding them both.
"What are you doing Lahsaa?" Ragnar demanded, finding himself able to speak as the barrier slowly faded.
"Fighting."
"What's dis?" the ogres twin heads each cocked to the side in a different direction as Lahsaa stepped out of the protective barrier.
"Your end, ogre!" Lahsaa's voice was weak and he barely managed a croak as he fought for his body not to tremble in abject terror at the ten foot monstor before him.
The ogre, and his followers behind him who had all stopped fighting to watch, all roared with laughter at the site of the man in nothing but cloth with a small silver dagger in his hands. "You? You're ending me?" it bellowed with laughter. "There's no way! I'll crush you like a bug!" it flicked out a wrist as a barrage of spells crashed against Lahsaa. He raised his arms in a cross before his face, the pressure of the spells forcing him backwards across the blood soaked grass. Regardless, his defenses held, though he was left breathless by the end of it.
The ogre almost looked impressed.
"So... the little oomie 'as some power?" it conceded, "But I don't think you can do that many times... I can still crush you."
"You think?" Lahsaa gasped, raising his dagger and slashing his other palm so both now bled freely before returning it to the sheet at his back.
"Oi! I'm the one that's sposed t' make you blood oomie! 'ow stupid are you?"
The mage smirked, blinking at the magi through tears. "Not as stupid as you." he raised his hands, forcing the palms of his hands together as they fought with other to touch like similarly charged lodestones. When they finally did touch, the air seemed to stand still for a very long second, before an explosion of magic errupted around Lahsaa. The rings disintergrated entirely as a great rush a power flowed around Lahsaa's entire being. Everybody on the field recoiled in away from it as the soulfire arced around him like lightning.
"Wha... What the...?" the ogre roared, aghast.
"I am Lahsaa Nethir, mage, Kharachian, Einherjar... and your end ogre. Your magic is weak and your army weaker..." dark green fire blazed around his shoulders, his feet seemed to not touch the floor any more as if the soulfire held him just above it. "You have brought death and distruction to this country and it stops here. We stop you, as we have stopped so many before you." his voice was more powerful than the ogres had been and seemed to touch each of the defenders, making them stand taller, dispelling their pain, filling them full of hope and pride and power. "And now we stop you!"
The ogre roared its defiance and unleashed a hail of magic at Lahsaa. The humans eyes blazed and he raised a hand. The spells rebounded and around the ogre his foulspawn army shattered as bodies exploded into fine black mist. Lahsaa gestured hard and unleashed his own magic - the ogre seemed to hang in the air for a second before being thrown backwards at an impossible speed, scattering more of his army. The foulspawn started to panic, and siezing the moment and bolstered by Lahsaa's power Ragnar raised his axe high. "INTO THEM! SEND THEM ALL TO KHARACH! FOR ITHRON!"
The army charged as the ogre picked itself up now behind the entire line of its army. It turned with a roar, looking for Lahsaa, only to find the mage next to him. Another barrage of power, dropped the ogre to his knees, writhing in pain before he was thrown - with a gesture from the mage - into a rock wall which exploded with the force.
The ogre staggered as he stood again snarling at the mage as he with his own gesture dozens of weapons from fallen orcs and trolls rose into the air and streaked towards the sorcerer. Lahsaa's counterspell managed to take out some of the weapons, shattering them into shards of metal and rock but he wasn't quick enough to destroy them all and those that remained struck him again and again. He vanished suddenly from in the middle of the beating he was taking, appearing first at the ogres left then - when the magi commited the weapons to strike where he had been, directly before it. Battered, bruised and bloodied Lahsaa met the eyes of the left head and with a snarl flung his arm up. The ogre couldn't react in time and the head disappeared in an explosion of gore and bone. It shrieked in pain, falling to its knees and clutching at the stump of the neck.
"NO! I CANNOT LOSE! MY HORDE WILL NEVER BE DEFEATED!" it roared in defiance at the man who stood before it.
Lahsaa stared at it, without pity. "You are broken ogre. Your horde is broken. And this is your end."
"Its yours too." it spat. "The magics yoo are usin' is tearin' you apart."
Lahsaa blinked away tears, his jaw set. "I know." he snapped his fingers and the ogres body was torn apart as magic tore through it again and again. It shrieked in agony up until its very last breath and when the magic was finished - all that was left was it's head.
Lahsaa gasped in agony as the magical aura faded rapidly - the power he had called on all but spent. His legs collapsed beneath him and he fell to the ground as each breath burned in his lungs. There was a flutter of wings as a raven landed beside him, watching him through dark eyes.
"Looks like now is my time..." he murmered as his eyes flickered closed...
End.
----
Yes. Seriously. That's it. =D
If you've enjoyed it, hated it, have critisms whatever, please comment either here, on twitter or on Facebook. It would be greatly appreciated.
Oh - it's the longest single bit of writing I've done for a long time too. =]
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"No way! You've got no chance Ragnar. I'm not going to stay here while the rest of you fight on the front line." Rowan shouted angrily at the General. "You can't order me around, my place is on the front line with the rest. Someone else can stay."
Ragnar shook his head, staring impassively at the woman from the borderlands. "It's my fucking army and I am ordering you. And Lahsaa and our witch. You're staying back here to protect this rear camp. I need some good peoplle back here to make sure that those injured stay alive to get back up and fight. I'll make sure that a few of them get through so you don't get completely bored."
"No chance! My place is in the fore of the battle!" she insisted, drawing herself up to the fullest, yet still only reachng the tall Llaminusians chest.
"No. It's here. I'm telling you it's here. Call it payback for Berwickshire, whatever you want, you're staying here." Ragnar scowled, his fists clenching at his side.
"Ragnar, Rowan... this isn't the time to be arguing amongst ourselves..." Lahsaa interjected standing between the pair. "Jarl, is there no way she can join the front line? Surely there must be someone else who can stay back here if you're insisting some of us do?" his voice had a bitter edge to it as if he wasn't happy at staying back anyway.
Ragnar glanced at the three in front of him, Rowan, Skade and Lahsaa. The huntsmaster was seething, her fists balled indignantly at the order; Skade didn't look to happy about it either but seemed to have accepted it quietly - which slightly unnerved the Jarl and Lahsaa - as ever - seemed to be stuck in the middle of different groups of his friends trying to smooth out a peaceful resolution to conflict again. The General sighed, and pulled a hip flask from one of his pouches meeting Lahsaa's eyes briefly before offering it to Rowan. "Fine." he said, an angry edge to his voice.
"Fine what?" Rowan questioned suspiciously taking the flask and drinking from it. Ragnar smirked.
"If you want to be pissed at me I don't care. You stay here and protect the wounded." he said sternly, holding her gaze as he snatched back the hip flask, tucking it away and walking off.
"Yes General!" Rowan replied seemingly without realising, clapping her hands to her mouth. "You bastard! What on Arda have you done?"
"Nothing I wanted to. Potions of compulsion are expensive." he frowned as Lahsaa and Rowan both shouted protestations. "QUIET! I've put you here because I need you here. I'd rather have you up there with me. Now shut up, and do what I tell you!"
Rowan fell silent, though Lahsaa could see the strain in her face as she tried to speak hatred for the Llaminusian burning in her eyes.
The Jarl disappeared into the crowds quickly as the warhorns of the foulspawn sounded and a roar came from the distant end of the battlefield.
"Bastard..." Rowan coughed out, when she was able to speak again, turning in disgust to prepare defences in the healers camp as Lahsaa stared in the direction Ragnar had left.
The battle had scarecely rejoined and already the defenders in the healers camp had work as scouts from the surrounding woods came out dragging several wounded. "Goblins! Right behind us!" they shouted tearing past Lahsaa who had taken the side nearest the trees.
The mage had picked up a short spear and shield at some point, determined not to burn through his magic as he had done yesterday and rushed forward weapons raised to cover their retreat.
"Lahsaa! Get your ass over here!" came a shout from inside the tree line and he rushed forward to assist. Under the cover the the leaves above Elenor stood alone with her bow, unleashing a storm of arrows into the ranks of goblin scouts that rushed through the trees. The mage rushed to her side as she fired off the last pair of arrows and drew her sword. "Tralda... it's about time you showed up. Why aren't you in the battle line?"
Without the hail of arrows raining on them the goblins rushed forward to be met with thrusts from the short spear and the ranger swinging a sword and axe with deadly proficiancy.
"The Jarl had me, the witch and the Huntsmaster stay to help defend the healer camp." the mage grunted, kicking away a goblin who stuck to the spear a little too long, batting another away with the shield. "How's it going out there?"
"It...ugh..." Elenor stumbled as a goblin clubbed her from behind, dropping her to her knees. She reversed her grip on her sword and ran it under her arm into the greenskins chest, hacking it down as she stood for good measure. "It's not going well. They've brought out even bigger orcs - only the Seven know how. They're encased head to foot in black plate armour and they're at least as strong as an ogre. There's only a few of them but they're causing havoc."
Lahsaa ground his teeth together as the goblins - with more than three quarters of them now wormfood - turned tail and fled back towards their own camp. "Ragnar's handling it but - we've a handfull of knights left, at least one Crowan priest has called his final battle... Hati and Bjorn have gone through at least four trollstrengths and sixteen vials of swiftdeath oil each, Kavat's on one leg... One flank is being held by the school of Enchantment after Nysa managed to finally bring out fourteen automata that she'd been hiding away..." Elenor took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's madness out there Lahsaa. Adventurers that retired long ago have joined the fight as well... everyone is using absoutely everything they have and still there seems to be no end to them."
The scouts that had dragged the injured back into the camp came running over, a fresh pair of quivers with them. "Guild protector - here, we restocked for you." one of them said, handing over the arrows to which she nodded her thanks before they took off back into the woods.
"I have to go Lahsaa. Stay safe."
"And you." Lahsaa said, a note of desperation in his voice as he dropped his weapons and hugged his friend of so many years tightly. A brief aura of magic surrounded Elenor and her weapons briefly as the embrace broke. "Tralda be with you."
"Tralda be with all of us. I don't see many other ways that this is going to end well if not for her." she returned before disappearing into the undergrowth again.
Lahsaa glanced at his hands, thumbing each of the rings with his thumbs before collecting his spear and shield and heading back for camp.
"So! You puny humies are puttin' up a decent scrap! Maybe it's time I came out to play!" the voice bellowed impossibly loudly over the defenders, passing over them like a strong wind with a hint of rotten meat to it. It seemed to have a kind of echo to it - as if spoken by two mouths at the same time.
"What in the name of the Seven is that?" Lahsaa exclaimed, unable to see over the melee to find the source of the noise, looking up from bandaging Skade's leg.
"It has the smell of death about it, death and evil power... perhaps their leader has made themselves known at last?" the Llaminusian replied, a forlorn, distant look in her eyes.
"I am Kor'gresh Two Mind! This horde is mine! And my patience 'as worn thin with this little fight oomies! It'ron is mine! You 'ave nothing left to throw at us!"
"Another stinkin' ogre! With two heads so he's twice as ugly! You think you impress us? I am Jarl Ragnar Morkai! General of all of Ithron's armies. We're here to say fuck you to your foulspawn you shit! We'll be fighting to the last!" though the Jarl's voice was impressive enough to be held back in the healer camp, it was like a child screaming at a parent in comparison to Kor'gresh's boom.
The ogre magi laughed, booming over the line and causing some men to stagger. "Quite puny human!" it roared and clicked it's fingers like the crack of a falling tree.
Skade and Lahsaa - both recognising the sudden rush of magic - cried out futilily as if to stop as it Ragnar was nearly flattened by a rapid flurry of spells. His defenses and protections broke in seconds and he dropped to one knee.
"What was that?" Skade demanded incredelously, meeting Lahsaa's eyes.
"That... that was just a mute... but about fifty of them cast in one go... " Lahsaa stammered, his eyes were wide, and he had gone white with shock. "Whatever that is... I'm not sure the entire guild of mages together could stop it..."
"Lahsaa!" Rowan's shout snapped him out of it as she came running over. "Is there anything you can do about this potion? I must join the fight! I must!" her entire body seemed to tremble as she fought against the potions effects, desperate to help with the fight.
The mage opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again quickly. His eyes refused to meet hers and he gave a slight shake of his head. "No..." the reply was almost a whisper.
"... You... you're lying!" she said angrily.
The was another bellow and Lahsaa turned as another wave of power flashed over the left flank. He blanched as bodies flew into the air and screams carried on the wind. Letting out a long and shuddering breath again touching both rings.
"I'm sorry." he said softly, unloading the weapons he was carrying onto the floor and shedding his overrobe to be left in his shirt, trousers and plain green robe.
Kneeling next to Skade he hugged her tight. "Thank you. For everything Skade. Words can't convey just how thankful I am to you."
The Llaminusian met his eyes and understanding flashed between them, as she caught site of the magical artifacts on his hands. She nodded to him as he stood.
He turned to Rowan, who eyes him suspiciously not returning his hug as he embraced her. "Lahsaa, what are you doing?" she asked suspiciously.
"I think I'm about to win our game." he said, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. "Stay safe Rowan." he broke and turned to the battle line.
"Lahsaa! What are you doing? Lahsaa!"
The mage broke into a run, drawing his silver dagger and running it across the palms of both hands so they bled. Ahead, magic built up again.
Kor'gesh bellowed with laughter at the humans before him reeling from his magical assaults. "So... you lead this army of oomies and stunties and elf things?" it demanded, drawing itself up - towering over Ragnar as he stood again.
Unable to speak, the Llaminusian hawked up phlegm and spat at the ogre, raising his axe.
"Haw haw haw... you keep your word... you fight to the end... But... if I kill you, then I kill the guts of your army..." it raised both of its arms, "And afta my boys have eaten what they want, there'll be nothing left to stop us owning everythin'."Dark and powerful magics drew around it - visible even to the untrained as a vortex of black energy swirled like a hurricane around the ogre. "Time to die!" it bellowed, unleashing its spell.
An explosion of energy errupted around Ragnar, throwing bodies to the sides. Cries and shouts rose up, some unintelliganle, some desperate for the safety of the Jarl.
The defenders looked on anxiously as the smoke gradually cleared and were aghast to see Lahsaa standing in front of the Llaminusian, a barrier of green energy surrounding them both.
"What are you doing Lahsaa?" Ragnar demanded, finding himself able to speak as the barrier slowly faded.
"Fighting."
"What's dis?" the ogres twin heads each cocked to the side in a different direction as Lahsaa stepped out of the protective barrier.
"Your end, ogre!" Lahsaa's voice was weak and he barely managed a croak as he fought for his body not to tremble in abject terror at the ten foot monstor before him.
The ogre, and his followers behind him who had all stopped fighting to watch, all roared with laughter at the site of the man in nothing but cloth with a small silver dagger in his hands. "You? You're ending me?" it bellowed with laughter. "There's no way! I'll crush you like a bug!" it flicked out a wrist as a barrage of spells crashed against Lahsaa. He raised his arms in a cross before his face, the pressure of the spells forcing him backwards across the blood soaked grass. Regardless, his defenses held, though he was left breathless by the end of it.
The ogre almost looked impressed.
"So... the little oomie 'as some power?" it conceded, "But I don't think you can do that many times... I can still crush you."
"You think?" Lahsaa gasped, raising his dagger and slashing his other palm so both now bled freely before returning it to the sheet at his back.
"Oi! I'm the one that's sposed t' make you blood oomie! 'ow stupid are you?"
The mage smirked, blinking at the magi through tears. "Not as stupid as you." he raised his hands, forcing the palms of his hands together as they fought with other to touch like similarly charged lodestones. When they finally did touch, the air seemed to stand still for a very long second, before an explosion of magic errupted around Lahsaa. The rings disintergrated entirely as a great rush a power flowed around Lahsaa's entire being. Everybody on the field recoiled in away from it as the soulfire arced around him like lightning.
"Wha... What the...?" the ogre roared, aghast.
"I am Lahsaa Nethir, mage, Kharachian, Einherjar... and your end ogre. Your magic is weak and your army weaker..." dark green fire blazed around his shoulders, his feet seemed to not touch the floor any more as if the soulfire held him just above it. "You have brought death and distruction to this country and it stops here. We stop you, as we have stopped so many before you." his voice was more powerful than the ogres had been and seemed to touch each of the defenders, making them stand taller, dispelling their pain, filling them full of hope and pride and power. "And now we stop you!"
The ogre roared its defiance and unleashed a hail of magic at Lahsaa. The humans eyes blazed and he raised a hand. The spells rebounded and around the ogre his foulspawn army shattered as bodies exploded into fine black mist. Lahsaa gestured hard and unleashed his own magic - the ogre seemed to hang in the air for a second before being thrown backwards at an impossible speed, scattering more of his army. The foulspawn started to panic, and siezing the moment and bolstered by Lahsaa's power Ragnar raised his axe high. "INTO THEM! SEND THEM ALL TO KHARACH! FOR ITHRON!"
The army charged as the ogre picked itself up now behind the entire line of its army. It turned with a roar, looking for Lahsaa, only to find the mage next to him. Another barrage of power, dropped the ogre to his knees, writhing in pain before he was thrown - with a gesture from the mage - into a rock wall which exploded with the force.
The ogre staggered as he stood again snarling at the mage as he with his own gesture dozens of weapons from fallen orcs and trolls rose into the air and streaked towards the sorcerer. Lahsaa's counterspell managed to take out some of the weapons, shattering them into shards of metal and rock but he wasn't quick enough to destroy them all and those that remained struck him again and again. He vanished suddenly from in the middle of the beating he was taking, appearing first at the ogres left then - when the magi commited the weapons to strike where he had been, directly before it. Battered, bruised and bloodied Lahsaa met the eyes of the left head and with a snarl flung his arm up. The ogre couldn't react in time and the head disappeared in an explosion of gore and bone. It shrieked in pain, falling to its knees and clutching at the stump of the neck.
"NO! I CANNOT LOSE! MY HORDE WILL NEVER BE DEFEATED!" it roared in defiance at the man who stood before it.
Lahsaa stared at it, without pity. "You are broken ogre. Your horde is broken. And this is your end."
"Its yours too." it spat. "The magics yoo are usin' is tearin' you apart."
Lahsaa blinked away tears, his jaw set. "I know." he snapped his fingers and the ogres body was torn apart as magic tore through it again and again. It shrieked in agony up until its very last breath and when the magic was finished - all that was left was it's head.
Lahsaa gasped in agony as the magical aura faded rapidly - the power he had called on all but spent. His legs collapsed beneath him and he fell to the ground as each breath burned in his lungs. There was a flutter of wings as a raven landed beside him, watching him through dark eyes.
"Looks like now is my time..." he murmered as his eyes flickered closed...
End.
----
Yes. Seriously. That's it. =D
Thursday, May 17, 2012
The Battle for Middale - Part 4.
This bit ended up longer than I thought it would... but I actually really enjoyed this. Especially after last nights self rant. Opinions would be welcome.
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Despite the heavy drumming of the foulspawn army through - they stayed firmly in their camp, leaving the defenders to a long and sleepless night. Some managed fits and starts of sleep and several hours after he had been brought back into camp Lahsaa found himsel jerking awake. It was still at least several hours to dawn and at some point he had fallen asleep on Arya who was now snoring besides him with a empty bottle of what had been mead in her hand.
"Finally the Hare awakes." Ragnar said as quietly as his deep voice and strong Llaminusian accent would allow. "And falling asleep on the Jarl's woman no less, a lesser man would be jealous." Lahsaa rubbed his eyes, too tired and achey to even respond. "Your Jarl doesn't even get a response now?" Ragnar pressed with a laugh, throwing a staling hunk of bread at the mage. A smile finally passed on Lahsaa's lips as he threw the bread back at the Jarl creating an explosion of crumbs as it bounced off the general's head.
"There are those balls we occasionally see!" Ragnar laughed, slapping his hands together. "Though don't let your good friend the Huntsmaster see you throwing things at me. It's almost a weapon. She'll arrest you again. Again... Again."
Lahsaa smirked, reaching for the waterskin that lay nearby and clearing the croak that sat in his throat like leafs and branches clogging a dam. "She's only arrested me twice." he coughed when he was able to speak again, his throat still tight and painful from the night before.
"You'd think bedding her a couple of times would make her less likely to want to see you in irons... Or maybe more likely." Ragnar said, laughing loudly as Lahsaa choked on the water he had been in the process of swallowing.
"We never...! I mean I didn't...! We're just friends Ragnar!" Lahsaa gasped in between coughs.
"I mock you Lahsaa... surely you should be used to it by now. But you'll have to find a woman one day. If there's one thing the Einherjar will do to you, it's make a man of you." Lahsaa chewed the inside of his lip in response, with a grumble. "Every man deserves a good woman Lahsaa, I've seen the way you've looked at more than a couple of women. You love a good many of them, but none enough to bed them when there's probably a couple of them that would be fairly glad to get you between the sheets."
The mage glanced up at the Jarl, who sat watching him with a small thoughtful smirk on his face.
"Of course that's assuming we get ot of this mess alive." Lahsaa pointed out sourly.
Ragnar tutted, glancing over at the direction of the foulspawn camp. "Don't you believe in me Lahsaa? Your Jarl? I've led you through worse shit than this ja? That Vampire Coven in Nurun? The fomor stronghold on the Eternal Ice? Thol... Fucking Tholon! I led you into the Gods damned mountain of Night to beat the shit out of 4 liches and you doubt me when it comes to a handful of orcs that are weaker than a Rolborian's piss after a night of drinking?" he sighed. "What's on your mind? I forever see you in there... maybe that's why you don't have a women, you're too busy with your blood mage thoughts."
Lahsaa smirked at the very old nickname, matching the Jarl's sigh. "I don't know Jarl. I'd follow you to the ends of Arda and have done a couple of times - but this, this just seems a bit different. Something ominous is lurking just out of site, just where we can't see it. And I think it's going to be the death of one of us." he met the Jarl's eyes, who was staring impassively back.
"Sometimes you talk as much shit as Fith does Lahsaa. They're foulspawn. We've killed plenty of foulspawn, as well as demons, undead, otherworldly creatures, Kryganite beasts, heralds and champions of each of the dark six and all kinds of shit in between. This is childs play Lahsaa. Every man and woman that I lead is worth fifty of that green skinned filth. The only good foulspawn I ever knew took down nearly one hundred and fifty of them on his own after he had died. They are nothing, Lichesplitter - "he hefted his axe, battle worn and scarred but still as sharp as ever " - will have several new names after this fight is done. Everyone here will be a fucking hero and the souls of the foulspawn will be sent to Kharach and their bodies will feed new life on this site of battle.
"Don't bring out weakness now Lahsaa, I need you strong, I need you fighting. Because we are Einherjar ja? We're strong and we fight! Ja?!"
"Yeah."
"No, not fucking yeah, Shout it damnit! Show me you fucking mean it. We're strong and we fight, ja!"
"Ya!" Lahsaa choked out as loud as he could.
"Ja... and when this battle is over Lahsaa, you'll be saying 'Oh Ragnar, I was so wrong to be a big fucking wussy... now I'm off to go and find me a woman!'"
Lahsaa coughed out a laugh before finishing the skin full of water. "Thank you Jarl." he smiled, standing and taking the larger mans hand.
"Go get yourself ready for the fight of your life. Dawn's not far off. I'll start to wake up this lot. I need Arya's hangover to wear off before the foulspawn attack."
Lahsaa nodded and started to wander off as Ragnar sat watching after him weaving through the sleeping bodies. With the crack of wings a raven suddenly landed on the Jarl's shoulder as if tamely.
Jarl glanced at the bird, meeting its eye as if communing with it somehow, before they both looked back to the mage. A heavy sigh passed through Ragnar's large, armoured frame as the bird called out.
In the distance, the drums pounded slowly faster...
----
Despite the heavy drumming of the foulspawn army through - they stayed firmly in their camp, leaving the defenders to a long and sleepless night. Some managed fits and starts of sleep and several hours after he had been brought back into camp Lahsaa found himsel jerking awake. It was still at least several hours to dawn and at some point he had fallen asleep on Arya who was now snoring besides him with a empty bottle of what had been mead in her hand.
"Finally the Hare awakes." Ragnar said as quietly as his deep voice and strong Llaminusian accent would allow. "And falling asleep on the Jarl's woman no less, a lesser man would be jealous." Lahsaa rubbed his eyes, too tired and achey to even respond. "Your Jarl doesn't even get a response now?" Ragnar pressed with a laugh, throwing a staling hunk of bread at the mage. A smile finally passed on Lahsaa's lips as he threw the bread back at the Jarl creating an explosion of crumbs as it bounced off the general's head.
"There are those balls we occasionally see!" Ragnar laughed, slapping his hands together. "Though don't let your good friend the Huntsmaster see you throwing things at me. It's almost a weapon. She'll arrest you again. Again... Again."
Lahsaa smirked, reaching for the waterskin that lay nearby and clearing the croak that sat in his throat like leafs and branches clogging a dam. "She's only arrested me twice." he coughed when he was able to speak again, his throat still tight and painful from the night before.
"You'd think bedding her a couple of times would make her less likely to want to see you in irons... Or maybe more likely." Ragnar said, laughing loudly as Lahsaa choked on the water he had been in the process of swallowing.
"We never...! I mean I didn't...! We're just friends Ragnar!" Lahsaa gasped in between coughs.
"I mock you Lahsaa... surely you should be used to it by now. But you'll have to find a woman one day. If there's one thing the Einherjar will do to you, it's make a man of you." Lahsaa chewed the inside of his lip in response, with a grumble. "Every man deserves a good woman Lahsaa, I've seen the way you've looked at more than a couple of women. You love a good many of them, but none enough to bed them when there's probably a couple of them that would be fairly glad to get you between the sheets."
The mage glanced up at the Jarl, who sat watching him with a small thoughtful smirk on his face.
"Of course that's assuming we get ot of this mess alive." Lahsaa pointed out sourly.
Ragnar tutted, glancing over at the direction of the foulspawn camp. "Don't you believe in me Lahsaa? Your Jarl? I've led you through worse shit than this ja? That Vampire Coven in Nurun? The fomor stronghold on the Eternal Ice? Thol... Fucking Tholon! I led you into the Gods damned mountain of Night to beat the shit out of 4 liches and you doubt me when it comes to a handful of orcs that are weaker than a Rolborian's piss after a night of drinking?" he sighed. "What's on your mind? I forever see you in there... maybe that's why you don't have a women, you're too busy with your blood mage thoughts."
Lahsaa smirked at the very old nickname, matching the Jarl's sigh. "I don't know Jarl. I'd follow you to the ends of Arda and have done a couple of times - but this, this just seems a bit different. Something ominous is lurking just out of site, just where we can't see it. And I think it's going to be the death of one of us." he met the Jarl's eyes, who was staring impassively back.
"Sometimes you talk as much shit as Fith does Lahsaa. They're foulspawn. We've killed plenty of foulspawn, as well as demons, undead, otherworldly creatures, Kryganite beasts, heralds and champions of each of the dark six and all kinds of shit in between. This is childs play Lahsaa. Every man and woman that I lead is worth fifty of that green skinned filth. The only good foulspawn I ever knew took down nearly one hundred and fifty of them on his own after he had died. They are nothing, Lichesplitter - "he hefted his axe, battle worn and scarred but still as sharp as ever " - will have several new names after this fight is done. Everyone here will be a fucking hero and the souls of the foulspawn will be sent to Kharach and their bodies will feed new life on this site of battle.
"Don't bring out weakness now Lahsaa, I need you strong, I need you fighting. Because we are Einherjar ja? We're strong and we fight! Ja?!"
"Yeah."
"No, not fucking yeah, Shout it damnit! Show me you fucking mean it. We're strong and we fight, ja!"
"Ya!" Lahsaa choked out as loud as he could.
"Ja... and when this battle is over Lahsaa, you'll be saying 'Oh Ragnar, I was so wrong to be a big fucking wussy... now I'm off to go and find me a woman!'"
Lahsaa coughed out a laugh before finishing the skin full of water. "Thank you Jarl." he smiled, standing and taking the larger mans hand.
"Go get yourself ready for the fight of your life. Dawn's not far off. I'll start to wake up this lot. I need Arya's hangover to wear off before the foulspawn attack."
Lahsaa nodded and started to wander off as Ragnar sat watching after him weaving through the sleeping bodies. With the crack of wings a raven suddenly landed on the Jarl's shoulder as if tamely.
Jarl glanced at the bird, meeting its eye as if communing with it somehow, before they both looked back to the mage. A heavy sigh passed through Ragnar's large, armoured frame as the bird called out.
In the distance, the drums pounded slowly faster...
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
The battle for Middale - part 3
Again, apologies for anyone if anyone doesn't like the portrayal of their character I've included.
It seems I can't finish things even when I want to. Looks like this will go on for at least one more day.
----
Lahsaa hit the dirt hard, seeing stars as the orcs heavy mailed fist collided with the side of the mages head. The greenskin had gone beserk as Lahsaa shattered its sword which dripped with some kind of foul ichor and had glowed with a deep blood red and seemed to want to tear the mage apaart with its bare hands. Already it had swatted his staff away from him like it had been a twig and he hadn't even had chance to reach for the silver dagger before one of its ham-like hands had connected as it swung the wild punch. Scrabbling to the side to avoid having his back broken by its ironshod boots, Lahsaa scrabbled behind a tree and pulled himself to his feet. He was out of power - he had expended both of his magic rings, his active - bolstered as it was by his sorcerer powers - had ran dry and the ebb of new power was much further off than he could want. Consequently it left his body feeling drained and heavy and it was with some difficulty that he managed to dive to one side to avoid the bull-like charge of the foulspawn.
His fatigue cost him and he stumbled as he sought to find his footing again. The orc was in him with a speed that the mage wouldn't have thought possible and he was dropped to the floor and strong hand at his throat holding him down as the orc kneeled over him, driving one heavy knee into his stomach first. Lahsaa tried his best to gasp for air - but both being winded and throttled made the task almost impossible and he fought to pull the orcs hand away from his throat as best he could. At least until the orc punched him hard in the face.
Explosions of colour burst behind his eyelids and blood errupted from its nose as he dimly heard a crack over the roaring in his eyes as he fought for breath. Body wracked with pain, no power - and with too much ferrous metal on him to cast even if he did have any - and with seemingly none of his friends around to save him it was all the Kharachian could do not to give up the fight. His vision started to blur and grey and as the orc caught him another backhand all strength left the mage and his hands fell away from the orcs massive fist. Tears stung his eyes, there was no breath to shout for help and the blood flowing from his nose helped to choke him as it foul his mouth.
Desperation took him and his eyes stopped seeing the snarling face of the foulspawn as his friends rushed across his vision, each of the Einherjar, Eir, Nick, Rowan, Elenor, Kalrock, Valvossa, Ophelia... so many things that he had wanted to say to many of them that he had never taken the time to say and now, now he would never have a chance. This - it seems - would be how it ended. Nothing big, nothing fancy, nothing that anybody might remember him by, but by being choked to death in the woods, while a battle against the largest foulspawn army ever raised raged not twenty meters away on the other side of the treeline.
Something in his mind rebelled against the idea and somehow he found one hand closing around the handle of his silver dagger, sheathed at his back. He fought as unconciousness threatened to take him, flashes of red exploding across his vision as he managed - with some last vestiage of strength to pull the enchanted dagger clear and swing it up. The orcs blinked, the snarl not leaving his face as if not realising it now had a dagger stuck in the side of its skull. It's grip tightened briefly around Lahsaa throat, causing him to gurgle in pain as the last breath way choked from his lungs and it collapsed to one side as Lahsaa finally lost conciousness.
Air burst painfully into his lungs, setting his chest afire as he awoke suddenly with the sweetest, most agonising breath he had ever taken in his life. Pain ripped through his body, dimly aware of a gasp and suddenly he found himself lying down again and someone hugged him. The jolt caused him to black out again briefly and when he opened his eyes again he picked out several blurry shapes standing above him at least two of them looking relieved.
"Come on Lahsa', now is not the time to be laying around." the voice was obviously Llaminusian and it was only when he was dragged to his feet as he fought against his body to be anything but dead weight did he realise it was Arya.
Another figure joined his support on his other side and he realised it to be Rowan, concern etched on her face. In front of him was Skade, who was digging through a pouch on her belt as if looking for something. "Of all the things we've fought, it would be almost embaressing for you to be killed by a simple orc." she tutted, pulled a pair of potions out and pouring them down his throat, The pain retreated quickly and strength returned to his limbs enough that he wasn't completely reliant on the two women at his side for his vertical basis.
"I'm counting this one." Rowan murmered as they started back towards the main site of battle. "I fetched Arya and Skade to find you - I saw you get forced away from us into the woods but was too far away to help properly."
"Wha' 'appened?" Lahsaa managed to cough out as they started to dodge around hundreds of bodies lying between them and where the defenders battleline was picking itself up.
"The Jarl took down one of their big chiefs. It came charging across the field and met his axe - it seems that with his head was the heart of most of the army and they turned and fled... But 'Ati saying that they haven't gone far and something else seems to be stirring them up." Arya replied, her voice uneasy.
"Fell magics are on the air Lahsaa. I think what really leads them is still to show itself." Skade said with a glance back at him, carefully not treading on any of the fallen.
"The Swan is going to have her work cut out for her today." Arya noted, catching site of Saga kneeling before one of the piles of bodies, hood up, holy symbol clasped in her hand - her prayer to the God of the Dead for the souls of the fallen too quiet for anyone but herself and Kharach to hear.
"She's not the only one who can send the souls of the fallen on Arya, the priests with us can share some of the duty - it's about time some of them did." Skade shot back darkly.
"How many have we lost?" Lahsaa croaked as he noted the bodies being dragged into two piles - a larger haphazard pile for the orcs while the fallen defenders were laid out seemingly more respectfully, weapons in hand.
Rowan sighed heavily, her lips moving as if reciting a list of the fallen. "The heaviest losses have come from the militia that were raised, but at least a dozen adventurers lives have been lost as well as..." she exchanged an uneasy glance with Arya and Skade.
"Bjorn lost an arm fighting a pair of ogres." Skade relieved the Huntsmaster the duty of telling him. "He was caught alone surrounded by foulspawn, he was a pile of bodies that put him several feet about the ogres heads before they dragged him down and near tore his shield arm off. He still managed to kill both of the beasts but it was only due to the miracles of the white lady that he didn't bleed to death." Lahsaa shook his head in disbelief, his mouth agape. "He's still determined to rejoin the fight if they come back." she followed up with a smirk.
"He's fine Lahsa'," Arya said, spotting the mages shocked look. "He was making comments about how the Jarl would survive without him there to feed him and wipe his arse for a few days."
Finally they found the back of the line where physicians were busy rushing back and forwards tending to wounds. To one side, bodies were laid out, some with white cloths covering them like a shroud - others had black cloths laid over them.
Around one body in particular a group of Crowan's were knelt, deep in prayer.
"Vau finally found his end." Rowan said, her gaze fixed and unblinking as her free hand found her holy symbol. "He was laid low by a score or more of trolls and orcs and no one could reach him in time to heal his wounds - but it seemed that even Kharach wouldn't claim him without allowing him one more fight. He stood with his armour falling off him, the tattoos covering his body shone with a holy light. He was armed with nothing save his longsword and he used it to cut a bloody swathe through their ranks. Even when they tore his sword out of his hand he still killed more than three score with his fists. It took most of the church about twenty minutes to dig him out from under the pile of bodies that that had created."
Lahsaa was eventually sat down, his entire body seeming to creak as it did so, and a physician fussed around him to tend to his wounds and clean the blood off his face.
Far above the group as they continued to talk quietly and bring the mage up to speed, the sun started to dip below the horizon, setting the sky ablaze.
In the distance the foulspawn horns blared rallying them all together.
The camp started to move with an added urgency to get as many battle ready as possible - this day, it seemed - was far from over.
It seems I can't finish things even when I want to. Looks like this will go on for at least one more day.
----
Lahsaa hit the dirt hard, seeing stars as the orcs heavy mailed fist collided with the side of the mages head. The greenskin had gone beserk as Lahsaa shattered its sword which dripped with some kind of foul ichor and had glowed with a deep blood red and seemed to want to tear the mage apaart with its bare hands. Already it had swatted his staff away from him like it had been a twig and he hadn't even had chance to reach for the silver dagger before one of its ham-like hands had connected as it swung the wild punch. Scrabbling to the side to avoid having his back broken by its ironshod boots, Lahsaa scrabbled behind a tree and pulled himself to his feet. He was out of power - he had expended both of his magic rings, his active - bolstered as it was by his sorcerer powers - had ran dry and the ebb of new power was much further off than he could want. Consequently it left his body feeling drained and heavy and it was with some difficulty that he managed to dive to one side to avoid the bull-like charge of the foulspawn.
His fatigue cost him and he stumbled as he sought to find his footing again. The orc was in him with a speed that the mage wouldn't have thought possible and he was dropped to the floor and strong hand at his throat holding him down as the orc kneeled over him, driving one heavy knee into his stomach first. Lahsaa tried his best to gasp for air - but both being winded and throttled made the task almost impossible and he fought to pull the orcs hand away from his throat as best he could. At least until the orc punched him hard in the face.
Explosions of colour burst behind his eyelids and blood errupted from its nose as he dimly heard a crack over the roaring in his eyes as he fought for breath. Body wracked with pain, no power - and with too much ferrous metal on him to cast even if he did have any - and with seemingly none of his friends around to save him it was all the Kharachian could do not to give up the fight. His vision started to blur and grey and as the orc caught him another backhand all strength left the mage and his hands fell away from the orcs massive fist. Tears stung his eyes, there was no breath to shout for help and the blood flowing from his nose helped to choke him as it foul his mouth.
Desperation took him and his eyes stopped seeing the snarling face of the foulspawn as his friends rushed across his vision, each of the Einherjar, Eir, Nick, Rowan, Elenor, Kalrock, Valvossa, Ophelia... so many things that he had wanted to say to many of them that he had never taken the time to say and now, now he would never have a chance. This - it seems - would be how it ended. Nothing big, nothing fancy, nothing that anybody might remember him by, but by being choked to death in the woods, while a battle against the largest foulspawn army ever raised raged not twenty meters away on the other side of the treeline.
Something in his mind rebelled against the idea and somehow he found one hand closing around the handle of his silver dagger, sheathed at his back. He fought as unconciousness threatened to take him, flashes of red exploding across his vision as he managed - with some last vestiage of strength to pull the enchanted dagger clear and swing it up. The orcs blinked, the snarl not leaving his face as if not realising it now had a dagger stuck in the side of its skull. It's grip tightened briefly around Lahsaa throat, causing him to gurgle in pain as the last breath way choked from his lungs and it collapsed to one side as Lahsaa finally lost conciousness.
Air burst painfully into his lungs, setting his chest afire as he awoke suddenly with the sweetest, most agonising breath he had ever taken in his life. Pain ripped through his body, dimly aware of a gasp and suddenly he found himself lying down again and someone hugged him. The jolt caused him to black out again briefly and when he opened his eyes again he picked out several blurry shapes standing above him at least two of them looking relieved.
"Come on Lahsa', now is not the time to be laying around." the voice was obviously Llaminusian and it was only when he was dragged to his feet as he fought against his body to be anything but dead weight did he realise it was Arya.
Another figure joined his support on his other side and he realised it to be Rowan, concern etched on her face. In front of him was Skade, who was digging through a pouch on her belt as if looking for something. "Of all the things we've fought, it would be almost embaressing for you to be killed by a simple orc." she tutted, pulled a pair of potions out and pouring them down his throat, The pain retreated quickly and strength returned to his limbs enough that he wasn't completely reliant on the two women at his side for his vertical basis.
"I'm counting this one." Rowan murmered as they started back towards the main site of battle. "I fetched Arya and Skade to find you - I saw you get forced away from us into the woods but was too far away to help properly."
"Wha' 'appened?" Lahsaa managed to cough out as they started to dodge around hundreds of bodies lying between them and where the defenders battleline was picking itself up.
"The Jarl took down one of their big chiefs. It came charging across the field and met his axe - it seems that with his head was the heart of most of the army and they turned and fled... But 'Ati saying that they haven't gone far and something else seems to be stirring them up." Arya replied, her voice uneasy.
"Fell magics are on the air Lahsaa. I think what really leads them is still to show itself." Skade said with a glance back at him, carefully not treading on any of the fallen.
"The Swan is going to have her work cut out for her today." Arya noted, catching site of Saga kneeling before one of the piles of bodies, hood up, holy symbol clasped in her hand - her prayer to the God of the Dead for the souls of the fallen too quiet for anyone but herself and Kharach to hear.
"She's not the only one who can send the souls of the fallen on Arya, the priests with us can share some of the duty - it's about time some of them did." Skade shot back darkly.
"How many have we lost?" Lahsaa croaked as he noted the bodies being dragged into two piles - a larger haphazard pile for the orcs while the fallen defenders were laid out seemingly more respectfully, weapons in hand.
Rowan sighed heavily, her lips moving as if reciting a list of the fallen. "The heaviest losses have come from the militia that were raised, but at least a dozen adventurers lives have been lost as well as..." she exchanged an uneasy glance with Arya and Skade.
"Bjorn lost an arm fighting a pair of ogres." Skade relieved the Huntsmaster the duty of telling him. "He was caught alone surrounded by foulspawn, he was a pile of bodies that put him several feet about the ogres heads before they dragged him down and near tore his shield arm off. He still managed to kill both of the beasts but it was only due to the miracles of the white lady that he didn't bleed to death." Lahsaa shook his head in disbelief, his mouth agape. "He's still determined to rejoin the fight if they come back." she followed up with a smirk.
"He's fine Lahsa'," Arya said, spotting the mages shocked look. "He was making comments about how the Jarl would survive without him there to feed him and wipe his arse for a few days."
Finally they found the back of the line where physicians were busy rushing back and forwards tending to wounds. To one side, bodies were laid out, some with white cloths covering them like a shroud - others had black cloths laid over them.
Around one body in particular a group of Crowan's were knelt, deep in prayer.
"Vau finally found his end." Rowan said, her gaze fixed and unblinking as her free hand found her holy symbol. "He was laid low by a score or more of trolls and orcs and no one could reach him in time to heal his wounds - but it seemed that even Kharach wouldn't claim him without allowing him one more fight. He stood with his armour falling off him, the tattoos covering his body shone with a holy light. He was armed with nothing save his longsword and he used it to cut a bloody swathe through their ranks. Even when they tore his sword out of his hand he still killed more than three score with his fists. It took most of the church about twenty minutes to dig him out from under the pile of bodies that that had created."
Lahsaa was eventually sat down, his entire body seeming to creak as it did so, and a physician fussed around him to tend to his wounds and clean the blood off his face.
Far above the group as they continued to talk quietly and bring the mage up to speed, the sun started to dip below the horizon, setting the sky ablaze.
In the distance the foulspawn horns blared rallying them all together.
The camp started to move with an added urgency to get as many battle ready as possible - this day, it seemed - was far from over.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
The Battle for Middale - Part 2
The Battle for Middale - Part 2 - more future character fic originaly inspired in yesterdays post by Space Wolf. It's her fault this exists, which might be why she is getting the biggest cameo. =P
Uh.. Yea. [shrug] More fighting. "Ideal" futures - or "where I'd like my character to kind of be - power wise" are fun to think about. (Those rings he has are all kinds of badass.)
Probably the final part tomorrow.
-----
Somehow Lahsaa had found himself in the thick of the fighting, ducking and weaving through the flurry of blades that surrounded him, lashing out with his staff and unleashing a spell when things got too close. The foulspawn had hit their lines hard, hard enough to knock back even the usual steadfast Einherjar wall and the fighting had become desperate from then on. Several years of fighting alongside the Einherjar had given the mage more fighting spirit and abilitiy than the guild would ever be happy with, but right now, he didn't care - better to break guild rules and stay alive rather than be trampled under the ironshod boots of orcs. Spotting a gap, he swatted an orc to one side with a heavy blow to the back of its head with his staff, sent another collapsing to the floor as the back of its head exploded in a spray of blood and lept through to it, rolling clear and out of harms way, at least for now.
Taking stock from his vantage point, he realised just how badly things had gone. The two flanks held but that was only due to the fighting prowess of the knightly orders of Ithron - even over the orcish war criess he could hear Sir Marcus' shouts of "For Sidhe" as clear as anything. The very middle the Einherjar were holding - eight Llaminusians roaring in defiance as they continually added to the pile of foulspawn bodies behind them. Lahsaa wondered how he had managed to become so seperate from them - they were merely twenty meters away, but it might as well have been a different country.
To each side of them though - with some small pockets of resistance - the gaps in between were slowly being crushed over the sheer weight of numbers. He saw flashes of soulfire explode amongst the ranks as powerful artifacts and magic items were unleashed and Lahsaa idly thumbed at the rings on each hand.
His respite was quickly at an end as the goblin scouts that had been cutting through the woods saw and made for him, streaking towards him brandishing daggers dripping with vile substances.
"Tralda." he murmered, holding the staff ready before meeting the greenskins, knocking aside their weapons and delivering heavy clubbing blows to the greenskins. He held the upper hand for all of ten seconds before an orc lumbered into him, knocking him to the ground. With no time to be dazed, Lahsaa through himself to the side, rolling away as a massive axehead suddenly occupied the space Lahsaa's chest had half a second before. Crawling away, the orc advanced with a sneer, bloodrage mixing with its base nature of cruelty.
His body was frozen with fear, his mind screaming at him to cast a spell, to stop this creature from killing him but the words died somewhere on the path from his brain to his lips.
The orc raised the axe.
A blur streaked out from behind the tree behind him and a spray of black blood hit the mage in the face as suddenly the orcs throat opened up. Blinking and finally being able to move out of the way as the orc fell forwards, Lahsaa looked around to see Rowan stood behind the Orc. Her hood had fallen away from her face and blood was trickling down the left side of her face. Her chain was shredded in places and her weapons and arms were coated in black blood. Regardless, she had a smile for him as she pulled him to his feet. "What's that now?" she asked.
"I think it's twenty six, twenty five to me." Lahsaa said, a smile spreading across his lips after a beat.
"Well don't go dying before I've managed to save your life at least once more." she laughed, spinning hard to the left and catching an orc across the jaw with her mace, eliciting a load crack and another spray of black blood.
"I'll bare that in mind." the mage shot back, gesturing hard at two passing orcs and killing them both as magic tore them apart. Lahsaa grunted and fell to one knee, clenching his teeth and holding his chest with his right hand.
"Lahsaa?!" the Huntsmasters voice had an urgent note to it, but she was too busy fending off more orcs to be able to see to him properly.
"I'm fine! I'm fine... It's just that even with these rings I'm... I'm almost out." he said, his breath ragged. "And they show no signs of stopping." He pushed himself to his feet, taking down another orc with his staff, ripping the beasts dagger off its belt and ramming it through its neck before it had chance to stand.
Rowan shot him a glance. "We hold. We must. We're literally the last line of defense."
"I know..." Lahsaa grunted, falling backwards as an orc barreled into him, he barely managed to parry the hammer away before unleashing a spell binding it in place. The crack of his staff against the greenskins skull was sickening. He stood properly, looking over the battlefield, thumbing the magical rings around his fingers again. "I know."
Uh.. Yea. [shrug] More fighting. "Ideal" futures - or "where I'd like my character to kind of be - power wise" are fun to think about. (Those rings he has are all kinds of badass.)
Probably the final part tomorrow.
-----
Somehow Lahsaa had found himself in the thick of the fighting, ducking and weaving through the flurry of blades that surrounded him, lashing out with his staff and unleashing a spell when things got too close. The foulspawn had hit their lines hard, hard enough to knock back even the usual steadfast Einherjar wall and the fighting had become desperate from then on. Several years of fighting alongside the Einherjar had given the mage more fighting spirit and abilitiy than the guild would ever be happy with, but right now, he didn't care - better to break guild rules and stay alive rather than be trampled under the ironshod boots of orcs. Spotting a gap, he swatted an orc to one side with a heavy blow to the back of its head with his staff, sent another collapsing to the floor as the back of its head exploded in a spray of blood and lept through to it, rolling clear and out of harms way, at least for now.
Taking stock from his vantage point, he realised just how badly things had gone. The two flanks held but that was only due to the fighting prowess of the knightly orders of Ithron - even over the orcish war criess he could hear Sir Marcus' shouts of "For Sidhe" as clear as anything. The very middle the Einherjar were holding - eight Llaminusians roaring in defiance as they continually added to the pile of foulspawn bodies behind them. Lahsaa wondered how he had managed to become so seperate from them - they were merely twenty meters away, but it might as well have been a different country.
To each side of them though - with some small pockets of resistance - the gaps in between were slowly being crushed over the sheer weight of numbers. He saw flashes of soulfire explode amongst the ranks as powerful artifacts and magic items were unleashed and Lahsaa idly thumbed at the rings on each hand.
His respite was quickly at an end as the goblin scouts that had been cutting through the woods saw and made for him, streaking towards him brandishing daggers dripping with vile substances.
"Tralda." he murmered, holding the staff ready before meeting the greenskins, knocking aside their weapons and delivering heavy clubbing blows to the greenskins. He held the upper hand for all of ten seconds before an orc lumbered into him, knocking him to the ground. With no time to be dazed, Lahsaa through himself to the side, rolling away as a massive axehead suddenly occupied the space Lahsaa's chest had half a second before. Crawling away, the orc advanced with a sneer, bloodrage mixing with its base nature of cruelty.
His body was frozen with fear, his mind screaming at him to cast a spell, to stop this creature from killing him but the words died somewhere on the path from his brain to his lips.
The orc raised the axe.
A blur streaked out from behind the tree behind him and a spray of black blood hit the mage in the face as suddenly the orcs throat opened up. Blinking and finally being able to move out of the way as the orc fell forwards, Lahsaa looked around to see Rowan stood behind the Orc. Her hood had fallen away from her face and blood was trickling down the left side of her face. Her chain was shredded in places and her weapons and arms were coated in black blood. Regardless, she had a smile for him as she pulled him to his feet. "What's that now?" she asked.
"I think it's twenty six, twenty five to me." Lahsaa said, a smile spreading across his lips after a beat.
"Well don't go dying before I've managed to save your life at least once more." she laughed, spinning hard to the left and catching an orc across the jaw with her mace, eliciting a load crack and another spray of black blood.
"I'll bare that in mind." the mage shot back, gesturing hard at two passing orcs and killing them both as magic tore them apart. Lahsaa grunted and fell to one knee, clenching his teeth and holding his chest with his right hand.
"Lahsaa?!" the Huntsmasters voice had an urgent note to it, but she was too busy fending off more orcs to be able to see to him properly.
"I'm fine! I'm fine... It's just that even with these rings I'm... I'm almost out." he said, his breath ragged. "And they show no signs of stopping." He pushed himself to his feet, taking down another orc with his staff, ripping the beasts dagger off its belt and ramming it through its neck before it had chance to stand.
Rowan shot him a glance. "We hold. We must. We're literally the last line of defense."
"I know..." Lahsaa grunted, falling backwards as an orc barreled into him, he barely managed to parry the hammer away before unleashing a spell binding it in place. The crack of his staff against the greenskins skull was sickening. He stood properly, looking over the battlefield, thumbing the magical rings around his fingers again. "I know."
Monday, May 14, 2012
The battle for Middale.
It's not Misery in Middale I'm afraid, there's a swing of things that has to be re-established - but I needed to get writing again. Inpsired by Space Wolfs FnH Fic short she posted on her blog - I decided to do my own short with existing characters rather than originals. And I hope I've managed to stay faithful to each of the characters mentioned.
Yes, slight self indulgent wankery but it was fun to write.
Enjoy!
The nine bodies stood in a circle looked solemly at each other as in the distance battlecries and roars of challenge grew ever closer.
"Foulspawn filth!" Ragnar spat, clearly a head over all the others except his brother Hati. Each of the nine held their weapons easily and if there was any fear in their eyes it was well masked. "We will make them curse the day that they attacked us! They've killed friends, they've killed people we wouldn't piss on if they were burning - but now they're here wanting a fight. Others have gone crying back to their mothers titties in fear, but we don't run! Because we're not scared of some fucking green skinned beasts! We are the Einherjar! We are the Black Hand of Kharach! I've had harder shits in the morning than the things that come for us now. Lahsaa can punch harder than them." across the circle from the Jarl, Lahsaa - the mage of the Einherjar just smiled sardonically in reply. "Let's show these bastards what a fight really is! FOR THE EINHERJAR!" the group roared an echoing reply. "FOR KHARACH!" the second cry was even louder as the voices of surrounding adventurers leant their voices. "Get in position." Ragnar shouted, stepping in front of the lines, his voicing pitching up even louder as he shouted to all the assembled men and women under his command.
"His speaches are certainly colourful." a familiar voice, lilted with the dialect of the northlands came from behind Lahsaa, distracting him from the Llamninusians around him and he turned to see Rowan stood behind him, the familiar mask over her lower face, a strip of blue woad over the bridge of her nose and eyes.
Lahsaa half smiled, with a glance back at his Jarl. "He's nervous. When he's really confident his speaches are normally grander and more questioning as to the parentage of our enemies."
"I don't think there are many here that aren't." she countered, glancing up at the still assmbling hordes in the distance. A drum beat had started, pounding loudly over the battlefield and setting Lahsaa's back teeth on edge.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with gloved fingers. "I bloody hate drums. They don't do much at all other than irritate the enemy and make them want to put a sword through the drummers face rather than demoralise them." he looked hastily at the foresters tabard on his friends chest, adding hastily with a grin. "Not that I'd be likely to use a sword to take them down."
"Aye, that's right you won't." he couldn't see her mouth, but he could tell she was smiling underneath the scarf. That's what most people around them seemed to be doing - it was either laugh or cry at this point.
"The crows, they circle in anticipation..." Skade's voice was suddenly at Lahsaa's side, and he glanced first at the Llaminusia 'witch' and then followed her gaze up into the air where a murder of crows gathered above, seemingly waiting for the battle to start. When Lahsaa's looked back to the Llaminusia, trepidation in his eyes he noticed that Arya and Saja had joined them.
"Orc won't do them much good for food, they're tough and stringy." Arya laughed, with a wince - the excess drinking from last night still affecting her. "And that's all they're get to eat."
"Not true... There'll be goblin, ogre and troll as well." Saja smiled, hugging Arya's shoulders.
"Lahsaa... surrounded by ladies yet again?" another voice added to the crowd as Alfie, a fellow master in the mages guild pushed through the crowds. Lahsaa grinned in response and took the mans hand.
"All ready for this?"
"Tralda, I don't think I'll ever be ready for this. I don't think I've prayed so hard as in the last few hours." Alfie replied, glancing over as the foulspawn horde swelled across the field as he absently pulled out a stick of rolled tobacco from a slim silver case that he tucked back inside his robes.
The corner of Lahsaa's mouth flicked upwards slightly. "All stocked for spells I meant?" a look of understanding passed between them and a nod of understanding passed between them.
"Praise be to Sidhe!" a shout went up from far to Lahsaa's right and he glanced over to see a group of Templar Knights, headed by Sir Marcus Northclaw joined the line on one flank next to the Black Knights - led by Sir Anthony Drakenfist. The mage couldn't see the Greys or the Griffons from where he was, but he knew that they were somewhere on the left flank.
"I don't think I've ever fought in such a massive army before." Rowan mused, drawing his sword for her off hand and pulling out the Huntsmasters axe fromn the loop on her belt. Lahsaa couldn't help but pick out the magical aura that sorrounded it, and his eyes were subsequently drawn to other magical glows on the field around them. Arya's shield, Ragnar's armour, Skade's dagger, Alfiie's staff and the pair of rings that he himself wore.
"Me either and I still think we're outnumbered by at least three to one." Lahsaa replied.
"Pah! Three to one! Most Llamninusians could take those odds as babes!" Fith joned the group as they talked, He too had joined with the rest of the Einherjar in putting on the black handprint on their face as well as the being covered in blue woad. "This is just a warm up for most northmen. I don't know why you southmen worry so much."
The group - almost collectively - rolled their eyes at Fith as horns sounded long and loud across their own lines.
"Ithronians! Llaminusians! Men and women of Lirron and Sortho!" Ragnar's voice boomed across the battlefield, as he raised his sword, around which magic swirled powerfully. "It's time! Gather together! Let us show them what we're made of!"
A roar went up from the defenders as the foulspawn started forward, breaking quickly into a run as the shield wall of the army under Ragnar's command locked in tight.
"Lahsaa, I'm off with the scouts." Rowan said, touching the mages arm as a small group broke away into the trees to the east to meet the goblin skirmishers that had similarly broken away.
"Stay safe." he urged, following it up with a mutter of words of power.
"I'll be fine." she nodded in reply as the magical aura quickly faded around her. "I have Crowa with me." with that, she was lost to the crowds.
Lahsaa smiled, touching Ragnar's arm. "You got your little magic trick ready Lahsaa now you've finished flirting with the Huntsmaster?" the Llaminusian asked with a grin. Lahsaa shook his head and pushed forward, standing in front of the line and raising both hands to cup in front of him and closing his eyes, muttering rapidly. The foulspwn horde roared louder and grew ever closer.
"Do it now Lahsaa! Unless you plan on taking them on from the front line!" Hati barked, standing just behind his brother with a spear in hand.
The mages eyes opened suddenly, ablaze with magical energy as the rings shone brightly, ripping his fingertips through the air to each side. Magic exploded amongst the foulspawn rangs as bodies flew everywhere. Lahsaa staggered backwards, absorbed by the lines as the battle for Middale against the orcish horde errupted in front of him.
"Praise be to Kharach! Hail to the Seven!" the defenders battlecry boomed around him.
Yes, slight self indulgent wankery but it was fun to write.
Enjoy!
The nine bodies stood in a circle looked solemly at each other as in the distance battlecries and roars of challenge grew ever closer.
"Foulspawn filth!" Ragnar spat, clearly a head over all the others except his brother Hati. Each of the nine held their weapons easily and if there was any fear in their eyes it was well masked. "We will make them curse the day that they attacked us! They've killed friends, they've killed people we wouldn't piss on if they were burning - but now they're here wanting a fight. Others have gone crying back to their mothers titties in fear, but we don't run! Because we're not scared of some fucking green skinned beasts! We are the Einherjar! We are the Black Hand of Kharach! I've had harder shits in the morning than the things that come for us now. Lahsaa can punch harder than them." across the circle from the Jarl, Lahsaa - the mage of the Einherjar just smiled sardonically in reply. "Let's show these bastards what a fight really is! FOR THE EINHERJAR!" the group roared an echoing reply. "FOR KHARACH!" the second cry was even louder as the voices of surrounding adventurers leant their voices. "Get in position." Ragnar shouted, stepping in front of the lines, his voicing pitching up even louder as he shouted to all the assembled men and women under his command.
"His speaches are certainly colourful." a familiar voice, lilted with the dialect of the northlands came from behind Lahsaa, distracting him from the Llamninusians around him and he turned to see Rowan stood behind him, the familiar mask over her lower face, a strip of blue woad over the bridge of her nose and eyes.
Lahsaa half smiled, with a glance back at his Jarl. "He's nervous. When he's really confident his speaches are normally grander and more questioning as to the parentage of our enemies."
"I don't think there are many here that aren't." she countered, glancing up at the still assmbling hordes in the distance. A drum beat had started, pounding loudly over the battlefield and setting Lahsaa's back teeth on edge.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with gloved fingers. "I bloody hate drums. They don't do much at all other than irritate the enemy and make them want to put a sword through the drummers face rather than demoralise them." he looked hastily at the foresters tabard on his friends chest, adding hastily with a grin. "Not that I'd be likely to use a sword to take them down."
"Aye, that's right you won't." he couldn't see her mouth, but he could tell she was smiling underneath the scarf. That's what most people around them seemed to be doing - it was either laugh or cry at this point.
"The crows, they circle in anticipation..." Skade's voice was suddenly at Lahsaa's side, and he glanced first at the Llaminusia 'witch' and then followed her gaze up into the air where a murder of crows gathered above, seemingly waiting for the battle to start. When Lahsaa's looked back to the Llaminusia, trepidation in his eyes he noticed that Arya and Saja had joined them.
"Orc won't do them much good for food, they're tough and stringy." Arya laughed, with a wince - the excess drinking from last night still affecting her. "And that's all they're get to eat."
"Not true... There'll be goblin, ogre and troll as well." Saja smiled, hugging Arya's shoulders.
"Lahsaa... surrounded by ladies yet again?" another voice added to the crowd as Alfie, a fellow master in the mages guild pushed through the crowds. Lahsaa grinned in response and took the mans hand.
"All ready for this?"
"Tralda, I don't think I'll ever be ready for this. I don't think I've prayed so hard as in the last few hours." Alfie replied, glancing over as the foulspawn horde swelled across the field as he absently pulled out a stick of rolled tobacco from a slim silver case that he tucked back inside his robes.
The corner of Lahsaa's mouth flicked upwards slightly. "All stocked for spells I meant?" a look of understanding passed between them and a nod of understanding passed between them.
"Praise be to Sidhe!" a shout went up from far to Lahsaa's right and he glanced over to see a group of Templar Knights, headed by Sir Marcus Northclaw joined the line on one flank next to the Black Knights - led by Sir Anthony Drakenfist. The mage couldn't see the Greys or the Griffons from where he was, but he knew that they were somewhere on the left flank.
"I don't think I've ever fought in such a massive army before." Rowan mused, drawing his sword for her off hand and pulling out the Huntsmasters axe fromn the loop on her belt. Lahsaa couldn't help but pick out the magical aura that sorrounded it, and his eyes were subsequently drawn to other magical glows on the field around them. Arya's shield, Ragnar's armour, Skade's dagger, Alfiie's staff and the pair of rings that he himself wore.
"Me either and I still think we're outnumbered by at least three to one." Lahsaa replied.
"Pah! Three to one! Most Llamninusians could take those odds as babes!" Fith joned the group as they talked, He too had joined with the rest of the Einherjar in putting on the black handprint on their face as well as the being covered in blue woad. "This is just a warm up for most northmen. I don't know why you southmen worry so much."
The group - almost collectively - rolled their eyes at Fith as horns sounded long and loud across their own lines.
"Ithronians! Llaminusians! Men and women of Lirron and Sortho!" Ragnar's voice boomed across the battlefield, as he raised his sword, around which magic swirled powerfully. "It's time! Gather together! Let us show them what we're made of!"
A roar went up from the defenders as the foulspawn started forward, breaking quickly into a run as the shield wall of the army under Ragnar's command locked in tight.
"Lahsaa, I'm off with the scouts." Rowan said, touching the mages arm as a small group broke away into the trees to the east to meet the goblin skirmishers that had similarly broken away.
"Stay safe." he urged, following it up with a mutter of words of power.
"I'll be fine." she nodded in reply as the magical aura quickly faded around her. "I have Crowa with me." with that, she was lost to the crowds.
Lahsaa smiled, touching Ragnar's arm. "You got your little magic trick ready Lahsaa now you've finished flirting with the Huntsmaster?" the Llaminusian asked with a grin. Lahsaa shook his head and pushed forward, standing in front of the line and raising both hands to cup in front of him and closing his eyes, muttering rapidly. The foulspwn horde roared louder and grew ever closer.
"Do it now Lahsaa! Unless you plan on taking them on from the front line!" Hati barked, standing just behind his brother with a spear in hand.
The mages eyes opened suddenly, ablaze with magical energy as the rings shone brightly, ripping his fingertips through the air to each side. Magic exploded amongst the foulspawn rangs as bodies flew everywhere. Lahsaa staggered backwards, absorbed by the lines as the battle for Middale against the orcish horde errupted in front of him.
"Praise be to Kharach! Hail to the Seven!" the defenders battlecry boomed around him.
Wednesday, May 09, 2012
Head made of fuzz.
Springfest is over for another year - it was all manner of awesome but my brain is not up to writing all down because it is bunged up. As is the rest of me. But it was awesome.
MiM is on hold, possibly for the rest of the week until I can get my head on again.
Don't miss me too much.
MiM is on hold, possibly for the rest of the week until I can get my head on again.
Don't miss me too much.
Wednesday, May 02, 2012
Howling relief.
And with this entry... I've broken 40,000 words on Misery In Middale.
===
Gregory glared at the werewolf stood grinning before them before sinking to his knees, clinging to his greatsword for support. He was the last to do so and each of his companions had done similar already, exhausted and injured. Addy was slowly moving between them with her healing supplies, cleaning and bandaging the wounds they had suffered in the vicious fight.
"You fella's turned up just in time." Aylix said with a nod taking a slug of whiskey from his hip flask before tossing it to Aston. The High Father snatched it out of the air easily took a shot back and in turn passed it on to Gregory.
"There was enough howling going on that wasn't part of my packs, we had to make sure something wasn't tryin' to move in on our territory. Then of course there was, the rangers howl - how could I refuse the call of that?" he said with a grin, glancing around cautiously before sitting down cross legged in the middle of the path. Eliana rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same. "And we are most grateful you are - we were about to lose at least one life."
Aston shrugged. "Jus' protecting our borders. If the High Father had called upon his Ladies last it would have been a good death no doubt, but we'd just be left with his body to bring new life to the woods."
Eliana frowned, looking as if to argue with Aston's cold analysis of the entire situation but was interupted as the hip flask landed in her lap. "I wouldn't bother arguing lass." Aylix called over. "Let's just say we're greatful no one died and the wolf is happy that no rogue werewolves were encroaching on his land."
Aston snarled. "They were not werewolves. They were twisted creations formed of greenskin."
"Skarahi?" Grundown spat the word with disgust, hawking a glob of phlegn into the bushes. "The grobi have no love of them - what were they doing with them as pets?"
Aston had no answer for the Dwarf, merely shrugging. "We know the minds of orcs about as well as you do dwarf."
"Enough talk of the dead though, I assume you came into the woods at twilight for a reason? The children of the Mother of Monsters and the coconspirators of the Great Liar?"
"We've found where they're going to be doing the ritual." Crow said through gritted teeth as Addy tended a vicious claw wound on the bald skin of his head. "The problem is their numbers and a large force of undead nearby who plan on attacking while the ritual is occuring. The heretics have enough numbers to make sure that the undead are kept at bay though, so we still need to attack and disrupt the ritual, but there's six of us, and only about forty volunteers from the town - we've come to ask your help."
Aston raised his eyebrows, giving it serious thought. "Lead my pack into a horde of undead and heretics while they're fightin' each other to disrupt a ritual planned for by the followers of the Great Liar?" he laughed throatily. "The pack would have my head if I refused."
The companions looked visibly relieved. "You'll help then?" Gregory asked, eagerly.
"High father, there's probably enough ears in the woods around us to have heard everythin' you've said already. Even if I said no, there's be some that'd have made up their minds to go anyway. The pack of the Fang is with you. Where and when do you want us?"
"The previous rituals had to be completed when the sun reached its zeinth, it will take roughly an hour to get from Netherthong to the site with the force we have with us. We will make sure that everyone is ready for ten bells in the morning." Eliana said with a nod.
"I'll make sure I have some wolves in the woods to make sure we know what's going on before we get there." Aston mused, running a hand through his thick hair. "You all better get some rest, long day ahead of us tomorrow." he stood suddenly, breathing in the night air deeply before glancing appraisingly over the group as they all stood as well, understanding that they had been dismissed. "The stars were consulted last night, and will be again tonight by our augurs. They tell of great deeds being done tomorrow as well as great loss." his gaze lingered on Aylix and then Addy. "But the stars are sometimes wrong and I hope for your sakes that they are."
The group exchanged looks, Aylix frowned at the wolf before turning away with a shrug, starting back down the path towards Netherthong. "Until tomorrow wolf." he called, resting his hammer easily on his shoulder.
The rest of the group followed him except Addy and Crow. The Kharachian pulling the Traldan into an embrace in response to the look of horror on her face. "Come on." he said quietly, his voice reassuring, as the group started to disappear into the gloom. "We'll talk back at the camp."
From the trees, the pack of the Fang watched the group leave before returning to their lands a howl raising in the air as if to bid them farewell.
===
Gregory glared at the werewolf stood grinning before them before sinking to his knees, clinging to his greatsword for support. He was the last to do so and each of his companions had done similar already, exhausted and injured. Addy was slowly moving between them with her healing supplies, cleaning and bandaging the wounds they had suffered in the vicious fight.
"You fella's turned up just in time." Aylix said with a nod taking a slug of whiskey from his hip flask before tossing it to Aston. The High Father snatched it out of the air easily took a shot back and in turn passed it on to Gregory.
"There was enough howling going on that wasn't part of my packs, we had to make sure something wasn't tryin' to move in on our territory. Then of course there was, the rangers howl - how could I refuse the call of that?" he said with a grin, glancing around cautiously before sitting down cross legged in the middle of the path. Eliana rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same. "And we are most grateful you are - we were about to lose at least one life."
Aston shrugged. "Jus' protecting our borders. If the High Father had called upon his Ladies last it would have been a good death no doubt, but we'd just be left with his body to bring new life to the woods."
Eliana frowned, looking as if to argue with Aston's cold analysis of the entire situation but was interupted as the hip flask landed in her lap. "I wouldn't bother arguing lass." Aylix called over. "Let's just say we're greatful no one died and the wolf is happy that no rogue werewolves were encroaching on his land."
Aston snarled. "They were not werewolves. They were twisted creations formed of greenskin."
"Skarahi?" Grundown spat the word with disgust, hawking a glob of phlegn into the bushes. "The grobi have no love of them - what were they doing with them as pets?"
Aston had no answer for the Dwarf, merely shrugging. "We know the minds of orcs about as well as you do dwarf."
"Enough talk of the dead though, I assume you came into the woods at twilight for a reason? The children of the Mother of Monsters and the coconspirators of the Great Liar?"
"We've found where they're going to be doing the ritual." Crow said through gritted teeth as Addy tended a vicious claw wound on the bald skin of his head. "The problem is their numbers and a large force of undead nearby who plan on attacking while the ritual is occuring. The heretics have enough numbers to make sure that the undead are kept at bay though, so we still need to attack and disrupt the ritual, but there's six of us, and only about forty volunteers from the town - we've come to ask your help."
Aston raised his eyebrows, giving it serious thought. "Lead my pack into a horde of undead and heretics while they're fightin' each other to disrupt a ritual planned for by the followers of the Great Liar?" he laughed throatily. "The pack would have my head if I refused."
The companions looked visibly relieved. "You'll help then?" Gregory asked, eagerly.
"High father, there's probably enough ears in the woods around us to have heard everythin' you've said already. Even if I said no, there's be some that'd have made up their minds to go anyway. The pack of the Fang is with you. Where and when do you want us?"
"The previous rituals had to be completed when the sun reached its zeinth, it will take roughly an hour to get from Netherthong to the site with the force we have with us. We will make sure that everyone is ready for ten bells in the morning." Eliana said with a nod.
"I'll make sure I have some wolves in the woods to make sure we know what's going on before we get there." Aston mused, running a hand through his thick hair. "You all better get some rest, long day ahead of us tomorrow." he stood suddenly, breathing in the night air deeply before glancing appraisingly over the group as they all stood as well, understanding that they had been dismissed. "The stars were consulted last night, and will be again tonight by our augurs. They tell of great deeds being done tomorrow as well as great loss." his gaze lingered on Aylix and then Addy. "But the stars are sometimes wrong and I hope for your sakes that they are."
The group exchanged looks, Aylix frowned at the wolf before turning away with a shrug, starting back down the path towards Netherthong. "Until tomorrow wolf." he called, resting his hammer easily on his shoulder.
The rest of the group followed him except Addy and Crow. The Kharachian pulling the Traldan into an embrace in response to the look of horror on her face. "Come on." he said quietly, his voice reassuring, as the group started to disappear into the gloom. "We'll talk back at the camp."
From the trees, the pack of the Fang watched the group leave before returning to their lands a howl raising in the air as if to bid them farewell.
Tuesday, May 01, 2012
A desperate struggle.
[phew] This got a bit confusing to write - apologies if it's just as confusing to read. But - nothing but action.
====
Aylix, Crow, Gregory and Grundown had somehow managed not to be knocked out of position as they engaged with the giant bipedal wolves. Each of the wolves wore scraps of furs and leather over the fur of its hide and though attacked with a vicious ferocity showed a cunning that went beyond that of an animal darting in and out in, slashing with an accuracy that would have been deadly if it wasn't for the weapon skill of the four men. In the middle of the group, Eliana was unleashing arrow after arrow into the surrounding orcs, thinning out their ranks as they circled around, trying to get close to attack along with their wolf pets. Each time they tried though, the wolves would snarl at them killing their masters minions indescriminatly as they got too close to their prey.
Addy watched on almost helplessly, clutching her mace tightly in both hands, looking for a chance to help as the melee swirled around her. The orcish warboss roared into the night, stamping its feet as it watched the carnage ensue, not bothered about his fellow orcs, more bothered about the wolves tearing apart the humans and dwarf.
"I've had enough of you!" Eliana snarled, levelling her bow at the boss and letting fly with two arrows in quick succession. Her anger quickly turned to disblief as the arrows flew true only for the first to bounce off the creatures armour and the second to break as it hit the creatures brow.
"Ahaahha! Take more dan weedy arrers t'kill me pointy!" it mocked. Eliana, finally out of arrows cast her bow down and drew her shortswords.
Grundown let out a snarl of rage as the wolf he was facing finally pushed past the dwarves defences and clawed his hammer arm. He dropped the weapon, falling backwards as the wolf pounced on top of him. Grundown was forced into the dirt, keeping the wolf from ripping at his head with its teeth by holding it back with the top of the head of his axe. "Git this garicktar off of me!" he roared, straining against it. Leaping forward, Eliana sank both swords into the fur of its back to no dicernable effect while Addy swung her mace hard, connecting with the side of its head and knocking it off the dwarf. The beast hit the ground and roared at Addy, who backed off as far as she could without walking into Crow who was having his shield slowly shredded by the wolf creature he was fighting.
With a snarl Grundowns wolf made as if to leap on to the Tralda, only to stop in midair as Grundown dragged it back by the tail with his injured arm.
It kicked out with powerful hind legs, connecting with the dwarfs chest and sending him flying backwards, colliding with the elf and sending them both sprawling onto the floor.
The beast, sprang from the ground at Addy. She screamed and was saved at the last second by Crow turning and pounding it in the side of the head with his mace. The creature was knocked aside, but the distraction cost the Kharachian, and his the remnants of his shield was cast aside before the wolf raked his chest with its claws, cutting through his armour like it was nothing. The Kharachian staggered backwards, tripping over Addy and hitting the ground on him. He had strength enough to raise his mace defensively, wedgeing the haft into the wolf creatures mouth as it slashed at him hungry for the smell of blood in the air.
"Shepherd!" Gregory shouted desperately, seeing Crow fall from the corner of his eye. Forcing back the wolf he was fighting with a wild swing of his greatsword he stepped backwards, kicking the creature hard in the flank to send it flying from his brother. Adjusting his footing, he thrust forward with his sword as the wolf he had been fighting dove for him again, it dodged and tore into the Crowan's stomach with one claw, raking him down the back with the other. Gregory staggered forward, losing his footing, forcing him to leaning on his sword for balance as he drove it point down into the dirt.
"Shit!" Aylix, marred as the rest were with nicks and bruises, blocked a claw blow with the haft of his hammer, drove his hammer head first into the gut of the wolf he was battling, following it up by cracking it round the snout. The wolf spun away with a whimper of pain as Aylix reversed his grip and spun over the top of Greg's head to catch the wolf the Crowan had been battling in the back of the skull. It sprawled away to regroup as the Grundown's original foe dived for Aylix. Raising his left arm instinctively, the wolfs teeth ground against the metal of the mercenaries bracers and he cried out in pain as the metal was forced into his skin.
Grundown and Eliana had made it back to their feet, and were about to engage the wolves again when the orcs - seeing their chance to attack - closed the distance with them and suddenly the elf and dwarf were back to back fending off the greenskins.
Gregory stood shakily, stabbing down into the back of the wolf on top of Aylix and it howled, lashing out and almost sending the weapon from the Crowan's grip.
Gregory met the mercenaries eyes briefly and gave the slightest shake of his head as he took a step backwards, raising his sword into the air. "CROWA! Aid me i..."
Howls filled the air from the trees around them and suddenly Gregory was knocked into the dirt, the words dying on his lips as a wolf barrelled past him - forcing the one from Aylix and carrying it away from the captain. Around them there was similar scenes as more wolves, each with a pendant of a fang around their necks burst from the treeline, engaging with the wolves that had assaulted the party. Suddenly free of the wolves, they slowly picked themselves up, only to have to defend themselves instantly as the boss orc through itself forward.
"If my pets can't do it! I will" it bellowed, bringing down both cleavers. Aylix and Gregory each blocked one of the massive blades, giving Crow and Addy time to stand. Crow delivered a heavy boot to its gut, sending it staggering backwards as the captain and the Crowan pushed its weapons away. Suddenly Eliana was in front of it, delivering a fierce flurry of slashes with her blades before it could react and by the time she span away it was marred with cuts and its armour was shreads. It staggered briefly before surging forward for Aylix who blocked its clumsy strike easily, spinning away on the outside and catching it hard in the back of the spine. With a roar of rage and pain it arched its back as Addy drove her mace into its gut with all the strength she had. It doubled over in pain long enough for Crow to catch it on the chin with an under arm swing of his mace. There was a loud crack as it's jaw broke as it snapped upright again followed by a gurgling choke as Gregory ran his sword through its chest.
It croaked, sinking to its knees as Grundown stepped before it. "Grobi filth." he snarled, spitting in the greenskins face before striking with his axe. The orcs head hit the bushes at the side of the road some meters away as it went soaring off in an arc.
A roar of triumph had the companions turn in alarm, only to see most of the werewolves chasing down the greenskins - the four wolf beasts they had been fighting dead and torn to shreads around the path. The were alone with one werewolf, who gave them a knowing wolfish grin before bounding into the treeline. Seconds later, High Father Aston stepped from the bushes, looking slightly battle worn but grinning from ear to ear.
"You know how to gather a scrap together." he barked, a satisfied look on his face.
====
Aylix, Crow, Gregory and Grundown had somehow managed not to be knocked out of position as they engaged with the giant bipedal wolves. Each of the wolves wore scraps of furs and leather over the fur of its hide and though attacked with a vicious ferocity showed a cunning that went beyond that of an animal darting in and out in, slashing with an accuracy that would have been deadly if it wasn't for the weapon skill of the four men. In the middle of the group, Eliana was unleashing arrow after arrow into the surrounding orcs, thinning out their ranks as they circled around, trying to get close to attack along with their wolf pets. Each time they tried though, the wolves would snarl at them killing their masters minions indescriminatly as they got too close to their prey.
Addy watched on almost helplessly, clutching her mace tightly in both hands, looking for a chance to help as the melee swirled around her. The orcish warboss roared into the night, stamping its feet as it watched the carnage ensue, not bothered about his fellow orcs, more bothered about the wolves tearing apart the humans and dwarf.
"I've had enough of you!" Eliana snarled, levelling her bow at the boss and letting fly with two arrows in quick succession. Her anger quickly turned to disblief as the arrows flew true only for the first to bounce off the creatures armour and the second to break as it hit the creatures brow.
"Ahaahha! Take more dan weedy arrers t'kill me pointy!" it mocked. Eliana, finally out of arrows cast her bow down and drew her shortswords.
Grundown let out a snarl of rage as the wolf he was facing finally pushed past the dwarves defences and clawed his hammer arm. He dropped the weapon, falling backwards as the wolf pounced on top of him. Grundown was forced into the dirt, keeping the wolf from ripping at his head with its teeth by holding it back with the top of the head of his axe. "Git this garicktar off of me!" he roared, straining against it. Leaping forward, Eliana sank both swords into the fur of its back to no dicernable effect while Addy swung her mace hard, connecting with the side of its head and knocking it off the dwarf. The beast hit the ground and roared at Addy, who backed off as far as she could without walking into Crow who was having his shield slowly shredded by the wolf creature he was fighting.
With a snarl Grundowns wolf made as if to leap on to the Tralda, only to stop in midair as Grundown dragged it back by the tail with his injured arm.
It kicked out with powerful hind legs, connecting with the dwarfs chest and sending him flying backwards, colliding with the elf and sending them both sprawling onto the floor.
The beast, sprang from the ground at Addy. She screamed and was saved at the last second by Crow turning and pounding it in the side of the head with his mace. The creature was knocked aside, but the distraction cost the Kharachian, and his the remnants of his shield was cast aside before the wolf raked his chest with its claws, cutting through his armour like it was nothing. The Kharachian staggered backwards, tripping over Addy and hitting the ground on him. He had strength enough to raise his mace defensively, wedgeing the haft into the wolf creatures mouth as it slashed at him hungry for the smell of blood in the air.
"Shepherd!" Gregory shouted desperately, seeing Crow fall from the corner of his eye. Forcing back the wolf he was fighting with a wild swing of his greatsword he stepped backwards, kicking the creature hard in the flank to send it flying from his brother. Adjusting his footing, he thrust forward with his sword as the wolf he had been fighting dove for him again, it dodged and tore into the Crowan's stomach with one claw, raking him down the back with the other. Gregory staggered forward, losing his footing, forcing him to leaning on his sword for balance as he drove it point down into the dirt.
"Shit!" Aylix, marred as the rest were with nicks and bruises, blocked a claw blow with the haft of his hammer, drove his hammer head first into the gut of the wolf he was battling, following it up by cracking it round the snout. The wolf spun away with a whimper of pain as Aylix reversed his grip and spun over the top of Greg's head to catch the wolf the Crowan had been battling in the back of the skull. It sprawled away to regroup as the Grundown's original foe dived for Aylix. Raising his left arm instinctively, the wolfs teeth ground against the metal of the mercenaries bracers and he cried out in pain as the metal was forced into his skin.
Grundown and Eliana had made it back to their feet, and were about to engage the wolves again when the orcs - seeing their chance to attack - closed the distance with them and suddenly the elf and dwarf were back to back fending off the greenskins.
Gregory stood shakily, stabbing down into the back of the wolf on top of Aylix and it howled, lashing out and almost sending the weapon from the Crowan's grip.
Gregory met the mercenaries eyes briefly and gave the slightest shake of his head as he took a step backwards, raising his sword into the air. "CROWA! Aid me i..."
Howls filled the air from the trees around them and suddenly Gregory was knocked into the dirt, the words dying on his lips as a wolf barrelled past him - forcing the one from Aylix and carrying it away from the captain. Around them there was similar scenes as more wolves, each with a pendant of a fang around their necks burst from the treeline, engaging with the wolves that had assaulted the party. Suddenly free of the wolves, they slowly picked themselves up, only to have to defend themselves instantly as the boss orc through itself forward.
"If my pets can't do it! I will" it bellowed, bringing down both cleavers. Aylix and Gregory each blocked one of the massive blades, giving Crow and Addy time to stand. Crow delivered a heavy boot to its gut, sending it staggering backwards as the captain and the Crowan pushed its weapons away. Suddenly Eliana was in front of it, delivering a fierce flurry of slashes with her blades before it could react and by the time she span away it was marred with cuts and its armour was shreads. It staggered briefly before surging forward for Aylix who blocked its clumsy strike easily, spinning away on the outside and catching it hard in the back of the spine. With a roar of rage and pain it arched its back as Addy drove her mace into its gut with all the strength she had. It doubled over in pain long enough for Crow to catch it on the chin with an under arm swing of his mace. There was a loud crack as it's jaw broke as it snapped upright again followed by a gurgling choke as Gregory ran his sword through its chest.
It croaked, sinking to its knees as Grundown stepped before it. "Grobi filth." he snarled, spitting in the greenskins face before striking with his axe. The orcs head hit the bushes at the side of the road some meters away as it went soaring off in an arc.
A roar of triumph had the companions turn in alarm, only to see most of the werewolves chasing down the greenskins - the four wolf beasts they had been fighting dead and torn to shreads around the path. The were alone with one werewolf, who gave them a knowing wolfish grin before bounding into the treeline. Seconds later, High Father Aston stepped from the bushes, looking slightly battle worn but grinning from ear to ear.
"You know how to gather a scrap together." he barked, a satisfied look on his face.
Monday, April 30, 2012
If you go down to the woods tonight...
I want no complaints of ecology inacuracies in this.
Seriously. None of them. S'my story - I'm deciding what's where.
====
It was a good fifteen minutes later by the time the group made it clear of the campe surrounding Netherthomg and were on the road north again back towards the woods south of Mercia.
"Searchin' for werewolves in the dark..." Grundown said with a snort, clicking his tongue against his teeth, "The only thing more stupid would be huntin' for Vampires."
The sun had all but set and the moon was rising to their right, seemingly much larger than usual in the clear night air. Wind touched the slowly crisping leaves as summer started to die to leave autumn in its place.
Towards the back of the part, Addy and Crow walked side by side in silence, each glancing at the other every couple of minutes, but neither talking to each other. Aylix and Gregory led the group, Aylix's hammer resting loosely on his shoulder - a nimbus of red surrounding it.
Whether it was the coming of night or the enormity of what they were to do the following day - the group was subdued, even attempts at conversation by either Aylix or Grundown seemed to fall on deaf ears and the group walked in silence.
They were soon under the cover of trees and instantly Eliana knew something was wrong. "It's too quiet." she said as they were under the boughs. "Far too quiet."
They glanced round nervously one by one, Addy touched her holy symbol to her lips whispering Tralda's name quietly while Aylix, Crow Greg and Grundown readied weapons.
"You reckon there's somethin' out there elfling?" Grundown asked, scanning the treeline slowly.
Eliana nodded in reply, knocking an arrow to her bow as they made slow progress through the woods.
"Well... maybe it should COME ON OUT!" Grundown roared into the woods banging his weapons together, the steel ringing out as they struck each other.
"Grun!" Crow hissed, angrily, glaring at the dwarf over his shoulder.
"Tralda! CROW! Look out!" Addy screamed as a wolf came hurtling out of the gloom straight at the Kharachian. Crow managed to raised his shield in time to block the creatures claws and they bit deeply into the wood. He knocked it clear with a heavy boot to its chest as three more came flying out of the woods, followed by angry roars of orcs.
"Putrak!" Aylix swore in Dwarvish, deflecting a claw with his hammer - the previously subdued glow flaring to life as it struck. The creature roared in pain and spun away.
"You're not wrong there manling!" Grundown called above the roars, batting away wild swipes of another wolf-creature with his axe - which was similarly glowly and his hammer, which wasn't. He managed to score several light hits into its forearms with his axe before it jumped away from him.
Gregory - his greatsword not really designed to block claws managed to parry three times before the wolf pressed its attack and struck a gouge on his left arm. With a curse he kicked out hard and high, catching it on the snout and forcing it to retreat. The six came together, Addy and Eliana in the middle - Eliana having already taken out two of the orc creatures from around the edge with arrows. The wolves backed off and circled the companions. Occasionally making as if to dive into them, only to be swatted at by the blessed weapons that the four on the outside wielded.
"Gregory, is your arm okay?" Addy asked, her voice a slightly higher pitch than normal.
The Crowan nodded, not taking his eyes from their adversaries. "I'll be fine, my faith in Crowa keeps me shielded."
"Who's bright idea was this?" asked Aylix, both of his hands on his hammer.
"I believe it was yours, Captain." Crow shot back, batting away a probing claw from one of the wolves. Aylix tutted in reply.
"What are they?" Addy asked, clutching her holy symbol tight.
"My pets!" boomed a massive orc stepping out of the woods, dressed in scraps of leather and chain armour, a huge cleaver held in each fist, each of them dripping with a viscous green liquid. "And they're 'ungry for oomie flesh!"
Aylix and Grundown's curses were lost over the top of each other.
"Now gents, that's hardly the way to talk around ladies." despite Gregory's best efforts there was a wavering in the Crowan's voice.
"You got a plan then Guardian?" Crow asked, chancing a glance over his shoulder, rolling his eyes as Gregory laughed in return.
"I do..." Eliana said hurriedly, raising her face to the sky and letting out a long, sorrowful howl that echoed around the trees.
The howl eventually faded to no discernable effect and the massive orc let out a long, vicious laugh. "Nice try elfy. I fink I'll be eatin' you... Pets! Get 'im!" it roared pointing his cleavers forward.
The wolves let out snarled and - as one - pounced.
"FOR CROWA!" "FOR KHARACH!" "TRALDA!" the voices of the six mingled together as they all cried out for different Gods and moved to meet their foes.
Seriously. None of them. S'my story - I'm deciding what's where.
====
It was a good fifteen minutes later by the time the group made it clear of the campe surrounding Netherthomg and were on the road north again back towards the woods south of Mercia.
"Searchin' for werewolves in the dark..." Grundown said with a snort, clicking his tongue against his teeth, "The only thing more stupid would be huntin' for Vampires."
The sun had all but set and the moon was rising to their right, seemingly much larger than usual in the clear night air. Wind touched the slowly crisping leaves as summer started to die to leave autumn in its place.
Towards the back of the part, Addy and Crow walked side by side in silence, each glancing at the other every couple of minutes, but neither talking to each other. Aylix and Gregory led the group, Aylix's hammer resting loosely on his shoulder - a nimbus of red surrounding it.
Whether it was the coming of night or the enormity of what they were to do the following day - the group was subdued, even attempts at conversation by either Aylix or Grundown seemed to fall on deaf ears and the group walked in silence.
They were soon under the cover of trees and instantly Eliana knew something was wrong. "It's too quiet." she said as they were under the boughs. "Far too quiet."
They glanced round nervously one by one, Addy touched her holy symbol to her lips whispering Tralda's name quietly while Aylix, Crow Greg and Grundown readied weapons.
"You reckon there's somethin' out there elfling?" Grundown asked, scanning the treeline slowly.
Eliana nodded in reply, knocking an arrow to her bow as they made slow progress through the woods.
"Well... maybe it should COME ON OUT!" Grundown roared into the woods banging his weapons together, the steel ringing out as they struck each other.
"Grun!" Crow hissed, angrily, glaring at the dwarf over his shoulder.
"Tralda! CROW! Look out!" Addy screamed as a wolf came hurtling out of the gloom straight at the Kharachian. Crow managed to raised his shield in time to block the creatures claws and they bit deeply into the wood. He knocked it clear with a heavy boot to its chest as three more came flying out of the woods, followed by angry roars of orcs.
"Putrak!" Aylix swore in Dwarvish, deflecting a claw with his hammer - the previously subdued glow flaring to life as it struck. The creature roared in pain and spun away.
"You're not wrong there manling!" Grundown called above the roars, batting away wild swipes of another wolf-creature with his axe - which was similarly glowly and his hammer, which wasn't. He managed to score several light hits into its forearms with his axe before it jumped away from him.
Gregory - his greatsword not really designed to block claws managed to parry three times before the wolf pressed its attack and struck a gouge on his left arm. With a curse he kicked out hard and high, catching it on the snout and forcing it to retreat. The six came together, Addy and Eliana in the middle - Eliana having already taken out two of the orc creatures from around the edge with arrows. The wolves backed off and circled the companions. Occasionally making as if to dive into them, only to be swatted at by the blessed weapons that the four on the outside wielded.
"Gregory, is your arm okay?" Addy asked, her voice a slightly higher pitch than normal.
The Crowan nodded, not taking his eyes from their adversaries. "I'll be fine, my faith in Crowa keeps me shielded."
"Who's bright idea was this?" asked Aylix, both of his hands on his hammer.
"I believe it was yours, Captain." Crow shot back, batting away a probing claw from one of the wolves. Aylix tutted in reply.
"What are they?" Addy asked, clutching her holy symbol tight.
"My pets!" boomed a massive orc stepping out of the woods, dressed in scraps of leather and chain armour, a huge cleaver held in each fist, each of them dripping with a viscous green liquid. "And they're 'ungry for oomie flesh!"
Aylix and Grundown's curses were lost over the top of each other.
"Now gents, that's hardly the way to talk around ladies." despite Gregory's best efforts there was a wavering in the Crowan's voice.
"You got a plan then Guardian?" Crow asked, chancing a glance over his shoulder, rolling his eyes as Gregory laughed in return.
"I do..." Eliana said hurriedly, raising her face to the sky and letting out a long, sorrowful howl that echoed around the trees.
The howl eventually faded to no discernable effect and the massive orc let out a long, vicious laugh. "Nice try elfy. I fink I'll be eatin' you... Pets! Get 'im!" it roared pointing his cleavers forward.
The wolves let out snarled and - as one - pounced.
"FOR CROWA!" "FOR KHARACH!" "TRALDA!" the voices of the six mingled together as they all cried out for different Gods and moved to meet their foes.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
A quiet drink...
I expected Alina, Indis and Fin to get more "airtime" as it were, but the scene wouldn't write itself and it would have involves explaining what was going on AGAIN. So I skipped it. The scene may expand itself in the edit.
====
It was several hours later when the group reconvened in a small pub. It was deserted as the merchants and nobles inside the city focused more on their problems than drowning their sorrows and with the majority of the people from the city on the outside, business was bad for the barman. They were all fairly exhausted, having battled with both the crowds and talked at length with representatives of their guilds and churchs.
"Mercs are gonna spare what they can for it - but they're stretched thin enough as it is, Greg - we may get about thirty men, tops and most of them are gonna be volunteers." Aylix said with a sigh, leaning back on his chair and cradling a tankard of mead. "They definitely knew when to plan this and when to carry it out."
"The scouts guild is much the same, but perhaps with even less numbers. Most of the guild is scouting the area around Mercia to see what the situation is up at the city, while others are scouting Netherthong to make sure that the town isn't in immediate danger of attack... From anything apart from the undead of course." Eliana sounded exasperated.
"I managed to find a few clansman willin' to put in the fight." Grundown added with a belch as he slammed down an empty tankard and picked up a full one straight away. "Yer'll never be short of decent Dwarves wantin' to kick the shite outta some abominations."
"We managed to speak to a High Priest of each of our churches and they are going to do what they can, add their voices to our plight and see if we can get some from the churches to join us. They may even be able to make the field themselves but.. Fromt he sounds of things the communion was just as exhausting. I envy High Mother Dulana-Carcer and Nenharma though - they travelled into Elysium itself and spoke with the Gods." Greg put forth.
Aylix let out a low whistle. "The things adventurers do, eh?" he murmered before adding. "I managed to have a word with the mages guild as well, I know... Knew a couple of contacts and - even though they're not around managed to let them know what's goin' on. I didn't mention your lass, I figured seein' as we didn't tell the Earl you probably wouldn't want the guild tellin'. Anyway - they're gonna send a couple of Necromancers and maybe a couple of others to help out."
"So, that's what - sixty-ish fighters with us for this?" Crow asked, sounding disappointed. Why is it always so hard to garner help for this kind of thing? Is the common man always so expectant on adventurers to sort it out for them?"
"The common man is often too scared to fight Crow. Adventurers are generally made of sterner stuff... others just haven't heard the call of adventuring yet." Addy said softly. They were sat slightly apart, something that all of them had noticed, but not commented on. They hadn't heard them quarrel, so were puzzled by their actions, but none of them felt it their place to question it.
The Kharachian opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again fairly quickly.
"So..." Aylix started to dispel any awkward silcences before they started, "Addy, any joy with the physicians?"
The Traldan shook her head. "Not so much, we may get a couple who practice with us but..." she sighed. "Mainly I just got given what supplies they could spare and everything bar a pat on the head and a shooing out of the door."
"It's not going to be enough." Gregory sighed. "I don't want to be leading all of these volunteers into a death trap where a massive force of Kryganites and undead battle it out. We need more men."
The awkward silence descended, despite best efforts to keep it away as they all frowned in contemplation.
A few minutes passed, before the hush was dispelled by a snapping of fingers. "High Father Aston." Eliana smiled eagerly.
"What? That bloody mutt? I'd rather fight it alongside an army of elves." Grundown complained, despite large answering grins from Gregory and Aylix.
"Lass, you're a genius. The werewolves would help us out if we asked 'em, we'd just have to make sure our own side don't mistake 'em for the enemy." Aylix said, slapping the table for emphasis.
"We have no way of contacting them though." Greg frowned, his smile quickly melting away.
"We'll throw a steak out, who cares. If we can find some way of contacting them we can hardly lose. We can head to the woods and try and find them now."
"Sorry... who are you talking about?" Addy asked, confused.
"High Father Aston, clan of the Claw or... similar. We found him on the way back from Mercia -" Gregory started.
"Aye, an' 'e found us after we'd been stabbed in the back by the manlin' lass. Bloody wolves..." Grundown started loudly only to be quieted with a glare fromt he Crowan.
"As I was saying, we met him on our way back and he said he would try and find what was going on. I'm surprised he hasn't come to us sooner."
"We've been in the town most of the day, Gregory - with the problems we had getting in, it's no wonder a werewolf would be denied entry." Eliana reasoned.
"So, we head out to find this group of Werewolves then?" Crow put forward. "We should head out now, before we lose much more of the light."
Assent trickled round the group, drinks were finished and packs were collected.
"Let's go and find us some giant mutts then I guess." Grundown grumbled.
====
It was several hours later when the group reconvened in a small pub. It was deserted as the merchants and nobles inside the city focused more on their problems than drowning their sorrows and with the majority of the people from the city on the outside, business was bad for the barman. They were all fairly exhausted, having battled with both the crowds and talked at length with representatives of their guilds and churchs.
"Mercs are gonna spare what they can for it - but they're stretched thin enough as it is, Greg - we may get about thirty men, tops and most of them are gonna be volunteers." Aylix said with a sigh, leaning back on his chair and cradling a tankard of mead. "They definitely knew when to plan this and when to carry it out."
"The scouts guild is much the same, but perhaps with even less numbers. Most of the guild is scouting the area around Mercia to see what the situation is up at the city, while others are scouting Netherthong to make sure that the town isn't in immediate danger of attack... From anything apart from the undead of course." Eliana sounded exasperated.
"I managed to find a few clansman willin' to put in the fight." Grundown added with a belch as he slammed down an empty tankard and picked up a full one straight away. "Yer'll never be short of decent Dwarves wantin' to kick the shite outta some abominations."
"We managed to speak to a High Priest of each of our churches and they are going to do what they can, add their voices to our plight and see if we can get some from the churches to join us. They may even be able to make the field themselves but.. Fromt he sounds of things the communion was just as exhausting. I envy High Mother Dulana-Carcer and Nenharma though - they travelled into Elysium itself and spoke with the Gods." Greg put forth.
Aylix let out a low whistle. "The things adventurers do, eh?" he murmered before adding. "I managed to have a word with the mages guild as well, I know... Knew a couple of contacts and - even though they're not around managed to let them know what's goin' on. I didn't mention your lass, I figured seein' as we didn't tell the Earl you probably wouldn't want the guild tellin'. Anyway - they're gonna send a couple of Necromancers and maybe a couple of others to help out."
"So, that's what - sixty-ish fighters with us for this?" Crow asked, sounding disappointed. Why is it always so hard to garner help for this kind of thing? Is the common man always so expectant on adventurers to sort it out for them?"
"The common man is often too scared to fight Crow. Adventurers are generally made of sterner stuff... others just haven't heard the call of adventuring yet." Addy said softly. They were sat slightly apart, something that all of them had noticed, but not commented on. They hadn't heard them quarrel, so were puzzled by their actions, but none of them felt it their place to question it.
The Kharachian opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again fairly quickly.
"So..." Aylix started to dispel any awkward silcences before they started, "Addy, any joy with the physicians?"
The Traldan shook her head. "Not so much, we may get a couple who practice with us but..." she sighed. "Mainly I just got given what supplies they could spare and everything bar a pat on the head and a shooing out of the door."
"It's not going to be enough." Gregory sighed. "I don't want to be leading all of these volunteers into a death trap where a massive force of Kryganites and undead battle it out. We need more men."
The awkward silence descended, despite best efforts to keep it away as they all frowned in contemplation.
A few minutes passed, before the hush was dispelled by a snapping of fingers. "High Father Aston." Eliana smiled eagerly.
"What? That bloody mutt? I'd rather fight it alongside an army of elves." Grundown complained, despite large answering grins from Gregory and Aylix.
"Lass, you're a genius. The werewolves would help us out if we asked 'em, we'd just have to make sure our own side don't mistake 'em for the enemy." Aylix said, slapping the table for emphasis.
"We have no way of contacting them though." Greg frowned, his smile quickly melting away.
"We'll throw a steak out, who cares. If we can find some way of contacting them we can hardly lose. We can head to the woods and try and find them now."
"Sorry... who are you talking about?" Addy asked, confused.
"High Father Aston, clan of the Claw or... similar. We found him on the way back from Mercia -" Gregory started.
"Aye, an' 'e found us after we'd been stabbed in the back by the manlin' lass. Bloody wolves..." Grundown started loudly only to be quieted with a glare fromt he Crowan.
"As I was saying, we met him on our way back and he said he would try and find what was going on. I'm surprised he hasn't come to us sooner."
"We've been in the town most of the day, Gregory - with the problems we had getting in, it's no wonder a werewolf would be denied entry." Eliana reasoned.
"So, we head out to find this group of Werewolves then?" Crow put forward. "We should head out now, before we lose much more of the light."
Assent trickled round the group, drinks were finished and packs were collected.
"Let's go and find us some giant mutts then I guess." Grundown grumbled.
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