View unanswered posts | View active topics * FAQ    * Search
* Login 




Forum locked This topic is locked, you cannot edit posts or make further replies.  [ 252 posts ]  Go to page Previous  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6  Next
Mobile_Svensk
 
PostPosted: Tue, Mar 05 2013, 11:22 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 21 Jul 2005
Location: Awarded most Confused Git of 2014!

Simon Johnsson sought to find his lieutenant, Marcus. He forsake the title and rank when he spoke to his commander, looking him in the eyes. Simons face revealed anxiety, doubt and foremost fear. He looked more like the youngling he really was then a soldier of the commonwealth.


"Marcus... I'm scared..."


_________________
Amia Minecraft Server Ip: vps1602.directvps.nl
NWN Damage Calculator: http://www.afterlifeguild.org/Thott/dnd/
NWN Build Calculator: http://nwvault.ign.com/View.php?view=Other.Detail&id=856


 
      
Elorathall
 
PostPosted: Tue, Mar 05 2013, 12:47 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Mar 2011

The stoic gaze of the sunmaster's mask falls on the youth for a long moment, before he places a hand on Simon's shoulder - a surprisingly strong gesture from the otherwise rather aloof and distant Marcus. Though the words seem carefully measured, there is more than a hint of compassion in the otherwise calm and confident tone of his voice.

"Simon Johnsson.

You are given a choice, here and now. You may leave, or you may stay.

Whether short or long, our lifespan is ever limited. It is not for us to look to this with fear or mourning, but to decide what to do in the time we are granted.

Should you leave, you may live. For some time. But there is no certainty as to how long this would be, nor of the things you may face.
Should you stay, you may die. But this is no certainty. There is ever hope for victory. The Morninglord decrees it so.

Regardless of what you choose, there will always be consequences that even the wisest man cannot foresee. So I can only ask you to consider this: what separates the truly great from the merely remarkable is their determination to overcome. You are determined to rise and grow strong, and it is trough challenge and trial that you will do so. And these always come at risk.

If you choose to stay, you may not live long enough to regret your choice. But you will have chosen to face this challenge, alongside all others that do. And even though it may destroy your mortal form, you will rise in His favor, and become greater than you otherwise ever would.
If you choose to leave, you may regret it forever. You may look back on this day, every day of your life, and regret what you lost to buy a few more years of life.

You were born to do great things, Simon Johnsson. Choose to do great things."


---

When night begins to fall, Marcus moves to the temple for the Dusk Ritual - assuming that Si'Neela allows him to hold it.

To any who choose to attend, he recites the tenants of faith; the eternal assurance of a bright dawn after even the darkest night, the surety of purpose to all things by Amaunator's will and the never ending vigil over and love of the sun god for all virtuous creatures in His light.

Though there are no fallen to recount yet, he assures those gathered that the history of works and deeds of those who are lost may be forgotten by mortal memory, but will forever be archived and preserved by the Keeper of Law - that they may be precedents for all to follow. No man or woman ever dies in vain.

As part of the recounting, Marcus does spend some time speaking on the preparations that have been made. In this he makes mention of the hard and honest work of different townsfolk - those who dug pits, moats and set up barricades. He makes mention of the drill and training of the militia, and even the Kelemnvorite efforts to prepare for the coming battle. He assures all gathered that these works -will- play a role, and that they -will- affect the coming struggle. "Even the smallest pebble, well-placed, may cause the fall of the greatest giant."

To finish, he leads the Prayer of Eternal Vigilance - the words all the more meaningful in that day.

"Light Without and Light Within.
Ever watchful.
We hold to our charge.
Ever faithful.
Our faith sustains us.
Trough deepest darkness.
There is no despair."

--
Still pending

_________________
Aernoud Van Brabant: Heir of the House. Proprietor of the Beer Wagon.
"Go to the Mayfields, have a pint, and wait for this to blow over."

Aurelius: Sunmaster of Amaunator. Contemplative. Aspirant to Transcendance.
"Sol Invictus"


 
      
Glim
 
PostPosted: Wed, Mar 06 2013, 8:38 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Jul 2010
Location: British Columbia

As night descends over desert sands...

With only a startled cry letting slip past the sentry's lips, the first signal flag is raised. A runner is sent to the "command post" within the security of the temple of Lathander. Movement on the north side! Something stirs on the sands!

A flurry of activity as those few men who were not already at their posts snap into position under the instruction of the triumvirate leadership; the Lathanderians, the Kelemvorites and the Cordorians. As Marcus gives his speech to the assembled defenders, only a few look back, the fearful focus remaining on the sands to the north, however the priest's words seem to sink home and assay some of that nervous energy.

((ambiance))

It began as low, insistence whisper across the desert winds, no words were heard at first but the feel that something waited just beyond the light of the settlement was unmistakable.

Drawing closer, faster, the whispers would begin to form words of the foul tongue, the chill they preset in every spine seeming to be almost too much for the lesser defenders to bear; but Marcus' words still reverberated strongly within them. No man would stand alone in what was to come.

With one final roar, as though defying the defenders' strength, the horde streams forth from the darkness into the flickering torchlight, a vast host stretching far to either side of the north gate... but as they approach they are forced to tighten ranks until no more than a score of the beasts approach at once.

Link ants swarming from a broken hill however, there is no clear end in sight to the darkness that descends upon Nes'ek. How long might they hold...?

*-*-*-*-*

The townsfolk of Djedet and their defenders make good time even as darkness descends, having brought torches a-plenty for the journey and it is only a matter of hours before they have nearly reached their first resting point, Hasrabet.

As they near the large pavillion, one of the Silverscale scouts jogs over to the shamaness, hissing in their native tongue. Some of our scouts have not returned from the west, she would then relay to the other defenders. Not seeming to hold concern whether her words are heard by the townsfolk, whispers quickly spread through the line, each retelling growing more grim and grave.

We'll get to Hasrabet and use it to shelter the non-combattants while we take stock, but best we form up and be prepared. Word would be passed along through the ranks of the Militia, Silverscale and War Knights as they walk, and each would move into a more defensive formation around the helpless, as they also begin to notice the unusual quiet and stillness the night has taken on.

As the War Knights, leading the procession, get within a few hundred yards of the carpet-weaver's tent, they begin to notice signs that they were not the first to travel through this region...

((ambiance))

Form up! The cry would come just in time as the entirety of the pavillion comes crashing down, all manner of demons charging forth like so many hornets from a hive. It quickly becomes apparent that the numbers directly ahead of them are nothing that the uniquely skilled War Knights cannot handle, but a cry goes up none-the-less to, Get those people MOVING!

Felt before it is heard, a vibration or trembling of the ground makes its way to the ambushed mortals as something (or more accurately a great many somethings) approach at unnatural speeds from across the banks of the river.

The townsfolk break into a dead run to the north, the War Knights covering the north flank and Silverscale the south as the Militia travels with the people themselves, doing their best to guide them in their panic towards Nes'ek.

The first of Anubis' host are seen across the banks of the river, followed by a splash... and then five more... twenty... and a moment later the waters simply trash and roil.

If the people are to make it safely to Nes'ek, it is clear that the defenders must buy them time...

*-*-*-*-*

As the Chosen step through the portal one by one, having prepared for the hostile environs of Gehenna and Anubis' realm, they are not greeted with the steep, jagged slopes, thick volcanic flows or vents of toxic fumes that they might expect.

((ambiance))

On the contrary, the world that they find around them would seem very much like one of the more fertile regions of Mulharond itself, surrounding a great city who's architecture would appear very much like ancient Mulan design. No deadly beasts await their be-spelled arrival, no overtly harmful environment... it would almost be welcoming were it not for the gravity of the plight they face.

Before they are allowed much of a chance to ponder the nature of their surroundings, the staff in ((who's?)) hands, the very same which lead the Chosen to the vestments of the High Scribe, begins pulling ((who?)) inexorably towards the Mulan-styled city. Its architecture appears in tact, gardens and aqueducts and all manner of signs of civilization.

Yet not a creature can be seen to stir within...


 
      
GreatPigeon
 
PostPosted: Wed, Mar 06 2013, 17:48 PM 

User avatar

Tester

Joined: 04 May 2009
Location: London, UK

Mahir whom had carried the staff attempts to hand it off to Talyne or another one of the "non-combatants". He does this so that he may carry shield and sword instead. If it does not work for her or the others, he once more takes it back and lets it lead them along.

They move forward at a quick pace toward the city.
((Does it have walls))

He compares it mentally to the cities of Mulhorand and their layout seeing if any of them had been mimicked by Anubis for his realm's design.

Glancing around he makes sure everyone is keeping up and he encourages them evermore with mundane orders and commands as well as prayers to Ma'at and the Eight.

He has the sharpest of eyes watch around them and asks whomever is capable to detect evil or magic to discern if anything is hidden and laying in wait for them as they move along toward the city.

_________________
The Peacock wrote:
[GreatPigeon] is better than me.


Uncle-Opustus wrote:
Just before I fall asleep, I like to pretend it's just a public feat so Pigeon can succeed in politics and save the world from poverty... with his unicorn and shining armour and Excalibur.


 
      
Naivatkal
 
PostPosted: Wed, Mar 06 2013, 21:54 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 26 May 2010

As the procession hurried from the township, nervousness crept over their resident Sharessin once more. Despite her preference to remain out of conflict her heart-bound duty to aid and protect had led her into many battles, though mostly they were ones sought by her and trusted friends. Many of those with her she would count as such, just as many had led the charge into Gehenna. So it was not the nervousness of battle, but borne instead of the need to survive in the face of such odds.

Partially to calm herself and yet also to help with the spirits of those she traveled with, Salema began to quietly sing. Not being too loud, for even though the enemy was closing in anyways she did not want the sound to carry to far. It was an age-old Mulhorandi song she sang, her soft voice clear and sweet as each note left her lips in her native tongue.

But as they came into sight of the tent, she fell silent. Something was amiss. Something was wrong with the Silverscales ... and then the noise came along with the cries from the War Knights! Torn with indecision between staying with the Knights and staying with the people, she dug through her pack and quickly found a parcel of scrolls. With the promise she had made om her mind, even though she was hesitant to leave the Knights, she began reciting the words from a scroll of Mass Haste. The completion was timed so that the non-combatants would be out of range while the War Knights and others of the defensive line would still be affected.

As the spell went into effect, she uttered a quick blessing in Sharess' name ending with
Be careful! We will be waiting for you! It grieved her to leave, but she knew the War Knights had other clerics in their ranks, and so she ran after the civilians and those not staying behind. Aided by the hasted speed, Salema quickly assessed the formation of running people and pulled another scroll free.

Prepare for a spell of haste! she called out twice, the first in Mulhorandi and the second in Common, doing her best to prepare them before the sudden burst of speed as she circled around them. The purple and lavender armored Mulan paused ahead of them and to the side, aiming the spell at the point they would cross her and doing her best to time it so that they would be all affected.

If needed she had more, and wands of Haste aplenty to use on any stragglers missed, she only cared to put as much distance between the attackers and them that they could. Safety was within Nes'ek, and it was so close already. They had to make it. They would make it.


Use your spells sparingly, we do not know if we will have respite in the times ahead! Everyone, keep your eyes open. Remember the Eight are with us, they will guide us on our path! Do not panic, we will get to Nes'ek and safety! she called out, rallying and reassuring the people of the island as they ran, lending a hand anywhere she could and doing her best to keep things calm.

_________________
Whomst've'll'd'mn't I play:
Salema Nefahri :: A penny for your thots
Zrae'a'stra'fryn :: That which nightmares are made of
Khasir :: From the East a storm is coming


 
      
Remal
 
PostPosted: Wed, Mar 06 2013, 23:40 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 12 Feb 2011
Location: Elsewhen

"Hold the line! Don't let any of them move past us!" shouted Malatril as his blade met with the first opponents head, slicing it diagonally ans then continuing it the downward arc into the body of the next foe. "Meesh, keep us hasted! Aggie, Snow, pick of anyone trying to sneak around or cast spells! Hall, Blake, reinforce the left flank! And keep your mind blanks up!" Orders were shouted through the din of battle as War Knights formed a wall at north side of the river bank.
Though not as numerous Djedet forces and asabi warriors, they substitute numbers with skill and discipline, giving time to small yet powerful War Mage and clerics to weave defensive spells and prayers. Mind blanks, mass hastes, Auras of Vitality and similar area effect spells are cast first, as trained last few days, and daemons meet shields and blades of the front liners.
"Get the civilians moving! We can't stay for long on place open to attack from all sides!" he's shout back towards Salema, slamming one foe with his shield and skewering other with powerful swing of his blade.
"Knights, hold your ground! No foe must pass through!"

_________________
"A designer knows he has achieved perfection not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away." - Antoine de Saint-Exupry


 
      
Elorathall
 
PostPosted: Wed, Mar 06 2013, 23:49 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Mar 2011

On the northern front...

As the demons begin to stream towards Ne'sek, Marcus begins incanting a series of prayers in an ancient tongue, enhancing his strength and willpower. Another prayer sees his armor hardened, and yet another grants him a powerful aura to repel the insidious efforts of the demonic.

The sunmaster then steps up to the other defenders and gives out quick orders to the remaining members of the Vanguard, keeping them close by - that they might swiftly and aggressively respond to any opportunities that might arise. He blesses the gathered defenders, inflaming their souls with valor. Those nearby would receive similar but notably more powerful blessings - his own steady resolve further bolstering theirs, while those he judges the most able swordsmen would find their weapons blessed with the sun's own fire. Finally, he utters a longer and more elaborate prayer - and a gateway of pure light, lighting up the dark night, opens nearby. Out of it steps a magnificent female angelic warrior, the same eagle symbol that Marcus wears on his armor emblazoned on hers. "My champion. The fiend stands before us. Fight with us, and bring glory and honour to Our lord Amaunator, in righteous victory over these chaos-spawn."

When the demons begin to cluster together as they enter the narrow passage to Ne'sek, pillars of divine light strike from above to blind, confuse and maim groups of demons. Groups of the enemy, especially undead and shadow demons, are subjected to the full might of the sun's radiance, to blind and daze their approach, while stragglers are subjected to bright rays of light, that seer the unholy flesh and outright immolate the weakest among the horde.

All in all, it is quite a display of divine might. But one can only wonder just how many invocations the sunmaster has at his disposal to use. Though clearly limited, Marcus seems inclined to do as much damage as quickly as possible - which may be sensible enough, considering he could be overwhelmed and killed soon enough once the horde closes the distance, and the slaughter truly begins.

_________________
Aernoud Van Brabant: Heir of the House. Proprietor of the Beer Wagon.
"Go to the Mayfields, have a pint, and wait for this to blow over."

Aurelius: Sunmaster of Amaunator. Contemplative. Aspirant to Transcendance.
"Sol Invictus"


 
      
Mobile_Svensk
 
PostPosted: Thu, Mar 07 2013, 7:40 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 21 Jul 2005
Location: Awarded most Confused Git of 2014!

On the northern front...

Simon, The young cordorian recruit, stood before the onslaught of the horde and trembled visibly. But the speech Marcus had given him beckoned him to stay, lift his chin and face his choice to stay.
As the earth shook and the guttural howls and snarls of the demonic invaders made the air ring, simon granted himself the speed to prepare his spells as he needed.

Amidst the screams of the dying from both sides he dodged and darted around his allies to Harden any weapon he could come by before he set them aflame and provides adequate Concealment, Even the sunmaster get's his share. The mageling had a purpose in his mind, and it was not to slay demons - He had contemplated the risks and gains of providing offensive backup and decided to preform defensive enchantments that dreadful night.

One of the ranks of anubis break's through and simon has to leap out of the way from a most terrible greataxe! In his panic he screams out for help and thrusts his palm towards the face of the demon, and an magical storm literally burst out of his hand, straight through the fiend itself and the creatures behind it and even creatures behind the third. The collateral damage among the demons is incredible! The defenders soon fill up the gaping hole in the line of defence and simon scrambles back to the rear.

Simon prepares his transmutation book, alters a few second level spells, and utters the word of command as he shuts the book close. Instead of enchanting each defenders alone, A gigantic area of effect spell is let loose that immediately bolsters the defender's Endurance, Strength and Agility.

The young Magi inhales a deep breath and surveys the situation and cracks his fingers in a menacing manner. He then utters the last single spell that he hopes will grant them the power to turn the onslaught of daemons. He smacks his lips and throws the spell components in the air with this right hand while he moves his left hand, palm forward with his index-finger curled up, in a circular pattern. It takes a moment before the spell lands. The effect is immediate tho - and each defenders now fights as if they had the energy of two men.


_________________
Amia Minecraft Server Ip: vps1602.directvps.nl
NWN Damage Calculator: http://www.afterlifeguild.org/Thott/dnd/
NWN Build Calculator: http://nwvault.ign.com/View.php?view=Other.Detail&id=856


Last edited by Mobile_Svensk on Thu, Mar 07 2013, 17:07 PM, edited 5 times in total.

 
      
Silent2001
 
PostPosted: Thu, Mar 07 2013, 15:46 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 19 Jun 2007
Location: United Kingdomshire

As the demons emerge from the darkness Adoster would lower his visor and step into the middle of the rank to in-cant a protection from evil 15ft radius. Once his troop has been adequately protected from the fear-inspiring ranks of the fiends he would take the head once more, enchant his blade, and then cast light upon a coin which would be flicked in front of the group to illuminate the area in a dim gold-light. He would cast a quick glance around for the young recruit before receiving the first wave of foes, the scimitar of the paladin would illuminate in a glorious luminescent glow as the warrior calls on the strength of the Even Handed to smite the first over the wall. Once the creature is dispatched he would call back to his men "They bleed like rabid dogs, now put them down!" before returning to the bloody business at hand.

_________________
Image<3 Maryn
We are going to die and that makes us the lucky ones.


 
      
Glim
 
PostPosted: Thu, Mar 07 2013, 20:38 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Jul 2010
Location: British Columbia

Hasrabet…

The skilled War Knights would make short work of the small force of demons which had been hiding in the pavilion, suffering only superficial wounds here and there. Looking about from the carnage at their feet, they would see that ten times the number of demons, perhaps even more, are nearly halfway across the river now, and it won’t be long before they reach the close shore. It would be apparent that even with the skill and tenacity of the Knights, and the support from the Silverscale tribe, the larger force would eventually surround and engulf the group of defenders if they stay on the open road.

A new sound of many pounding feet on sand can be heard from the south however and just as the yugoloths begin to scramble their way up the bank, the honoured dead of Khem crash into their ranks from the south, engaging half of the larger horde. Though there is no hope that even the sturdy undead will be able to hold their line for long under the far greater numbers of the demons, they may just have bought the defenders and townsfolk some more time. Only a few stragglers remain to the south of the defenders, too far away to catch up to them, though the northern half of the yugoloths that climb up out of the river remain uncontested, and begin making their way towards the mortal men and women that flee for the safety of Nes’ek.

With the aid of Salema’s song and spells, and the urging of Qeb and the other guards and militia of Djedet, the townsfolk are drawn more of less into a coherent group as they flee northward, making good time towards the town. Though a few stumble along the way, they are quick to be picked back up by their fellows, none of the Mulharondi leaving them behind.

They just need a little more time…


*-*-*-*-*


On the northern front…

The collective offensive magic and defensive enhancements of the defenders all but creates a barrier of magic and steel at the barricaded wall, bug-like Mezzoloths and bloodthirsty Canoloth hounds going down in great sprays of blood or immolated by the purity of divine magic.

After the initial onslaught of magic, a Nycaloth commander appears amongst the ranks of the next push, crashing into (and through) a small section of the wall itself, taking a swipe at the young sorcerer from Cordor, before falling to the magical storm. The small breach is quickly filled by a makeshift barricade and more militia, though two are left dead in the wake of the push.

The battle is on in full, yet the sheer force of the defenders and their magic seems more than able to defend the northern wall, taking full advantage of the choke point as wave after wave of demonic shock troops are sent in, like the tide crashing against rocky shores.

Though a few superficial wounds are taken here and there, having the bulk of Nes’ek’s defenders in one place seems to ensure that the gate will not be breached anytime soon.

At least, while their endurance holds out…


*-*-*-*-*

In Gehenna...

Whether Mahir maintains hold of the staff, or it is passed to another, the staff would lead its bearer inexorably into the sprawling cityscape. No walls surround the city, no carts fill its streets, no noon-time vendors out in the merchant stalls as one would expect in any great city of Mulharond; but there can be no mistake that it is indeed of Mulan design.

Empty streets filled only with the echoing steps of the Chosen on cobbled stone, the great city seems not to be dead or a ghost town in the traditional sense. Instead it seems to have never lived at all, untouched by the presence of mortals until their arrival. They pass by empty shops, empty houses, empty taverns, until the staff leads them to their destination.

As they turn yet another corner in the maze of a city, they see at the end of the street a small pyramidal structure; a temple of some kind perhaps, which the staff seems to be leading them right into.

And then they hear it… voices, living voices coming from within the temple, voices of a man and a woman who seem to be arguing about something. As they draw closer, the voices become easier to hear and it becomes apparent that they are arguing over a land title, the female insisting that she is fit to work the land while the male insists that it should be ceded to a new family.

Entering the door, the staff finally releases its pull as the two figures, a Mulan man in clothes of moderate wealth and a Mulan woman in the clothes of a simple freewoman, would turn to regard the new arrivals, seeming to be not surprised by the presence of the Chosen in the slightest.

“Perhaps you can help settle this,” the man states.

The woman, caught somewhere between the verge of tears and the verge of rage, looks at the Chosen pleadingly, “Please, I just want to keep my home.”

“Your husband is dead and you have no children to help you work the land, it can be put to far better use by the family that I have sold it to, the land that your husband bought from me, not you.”

“I can work the land, I’ve been working the land for the past four months, ever since my husband fell ill.”

“Perhaps that is so, but the family would produce far more from it than you could alone, and provide more food for the people.”

“My husband owned that land, bought if from you fairly, held the deed for years. He left me the land upon his death and it is mine to keep,” the woman insists.

“This is getting nowhere,” the man says with clear frustration, before turning to the Chosen again, “what say you to this? Is it not clear that the other family could make better use of the land than one woman? That it should go to them instead?”

The woman too turns towards the Chosen, “My husband bought the land from him before we had even been wed, and he left it to me upon his death. I may be only one woman, but I can do this.”

The two Mulans seem to await word from the Chosen…


 
      
Remal
 
PostPosted: Thu, Mar 07 2013, 22:23 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 12 Feb 2011
Location: Elsewhen

Malatril cursed under his breath at the sight of undead, yet he had no time to argue as he turned towards north side of the riverbank, where demons already started poring out for the river.
"Frontliners! Wall formation! Meesh, slow them down! Bralor, get ready to give them a shake!" he shouted, as most of the knights formed the line, shield by shield. Behind them, sounds of prayers and casting could be heard as War Mage quickly finished the spell that made part of the riverbank fill with slippery grease, slowing or tripping demons that tried to climb up or advance.
"Chaaaaarge! For Tempus!" roared Warlord as greatest part of War Knights rammed front ranks of demons, trying to push them back into greasy substance that started to spread with multiple castings of the spell, positioned in a way that doesn't catch the friendlies. Moments after the collision of two forces, chanting of one of the War Priests could be heard, followed by violent shaking of the earth that sent even more demons on the ground.
Any errant demon that managed to break towards the civilians would either be shot down with precision strikes of white haired arcane archer, or end up peppered by arrows from surprise attacks of Order's scout, with her popular "'Ave it!" as she would dart around the battlefield.

_________________
"A designer knows he has achieved perfection not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away." - Antoine de Saint-Exupry


Last edited by Remal on Fri, Mar 08 2013, 9:51 AM, edited 2 times in total.

 
      
GreatPigeon
 
PostPosted: Thu, Mar 07 2013, 23:00 PM 

User avatar

Tester

Joined: 04 May 2009
Location: London, UK

Mahir turns and looks to the priest of Osiris, Imhotep whose job it would be to in Mulhorand to settle these disputes.

"Imhotep, this appears to be a trial of sorts, and you priest are he whom serves the Judge. Consider the case wisely if you would and give a most honorable judgement in the matter"

_________________
The Peacock wrote:
[GreatPigeon] is better than me.


Uncle-Opustus wrote:
Just before I fall asleep, I like to pretend it's just a public feat so Pigeon can succeed in politics and save the world from poverty... with his unicorn and shining armour and Excalibur.


 
      
Gers
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 08 2013, 3:26 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 30 Apr 2005
Location: Kentucky, USA

Jud would quirk a brow at the goings-on, then look to Mahir and speak quietly.

This is some sort of test, I think. And I would wager one set up by the king of this place. The question is to what end? Remember, our foe is the twisted sort. And if he doesn't know we're here, I'd be more surprised than if the spider bitch suddenly decided to beg the forgiveness of Corellon.

_________________
Image
Named Most Influential Character, Amia Awards 2011


 
      
Jes
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 08 2013, 4:36 AM 

User avatar

DM

Joined: 23 Aug 2006
Location: Camriiole

The copper kin speaks quietly aside to the others as she glances around, still quite prepared for a fight.

"If this is a test of some kind, I imagine it's one to determine just how loyal we are to the goddess. As per her teachings, the woman has just as much right to the land that is rightfully hers, as a widow, as a firstborn son would have. Thus, she indeed has every right to determine what happens with her land. Am I correct?"

_________________
Login: The Copper Queen
Cromlech - The Best Copper This Side of Ruathym
Zelly Cys'dina - The Wounded Soul, Also Merchant

Aelynthi Nor'alei - The Bubbly Winged Elf


See me DM-side as:
[DM] Hlal | [DM] The Voice


 
      
CelestialDante
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 08 2013, 6:34 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 15 Apr 2009
Location: United Kingdom

"This is his realm. One where none of our laws may apply nor do I trust. Clearly we are being tested despite thus allusion of familiarity. Maat's will permeates through all cultures and walks of life, we chosen are an example of this. It's my opinion we consult the maat to come to our verdict. It is Maat that sets us apart from this beast."

// just on holiday guys. Have fun without me :-)

_________________
Sir Azeriel El'johnson - Tormtar and Triadic Knight


 
      
Glim
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 08 2013, 7:51 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Jul 2010
Location: British Columbia

Zelly's words would seem to strike a chord within the two Mulan figures before them, who both smile a sudden, peace-filled smile before fading from view entirely. A few moments later, the staff begins tugging at its bearer again, leading them back outside the small temple.

As they walk once again through the empty city streets, they begin to notice a change... but the change itself is not as odd as what it makes them realize about their surroundings. Here or there along the cobblestones, small plants and weeds can be seen cropping up and splitting the spaces between them... which only serves to remind them of how perfect, how flawlessly placed the cobbles were when they first started walking them.

A sign above a tavern creaks quietly in the breeze, the paint falling off and showing signs of gentle aging, where once it had been perfectly formed and looked as though it were only painted yesterday. The glass of a nearby shop, window, once crystal clear, now shows a thin film of dust and a small crack along the bottom edge.

All across the city, subtle signs of gentle decay become apparent, where before everything had been perfect, perhaps even a little too perfect.

The staff draws them deeper into the heart of the city, twisting and turning through a myriad of streets to the point where it would prove difficult to find their way back. They soon find themselves entering another temple, though this time as they enter the pitch black interior is suddenly lit by bright torchlight, showing them a most puzzling scene.

A great feast is laid out before them, several men of apparent wealth seated all around, various slaves serving them food and waiting upon their every need. Before the Chosen can even get any further of a gage on what is happening, the clatter of a tray hitting the ground can be heard.

How dare you?! one of the wealthy men shouts at one of the slaves, who cowers before him, You would steal from me? It becomes apparent from their interaction that this particular slave belongs to the shouting man.

I... I... I... the slave stammers incoherently, clearly frightened.

The scene shimmers before them, shifting and changing to reveal a new setting... a darkened room where the two men are along, the feast long over. The master stands above the slave, who cowers on his knees. In the master's right hand, a simple knife, glowing hot from the fire it had been resting in. His left hand rests empty.

The master then looks to the gathered Chosen, This man has stolen food, he has admitted his guilt and accepts what punishment is decided. Shall he learn from his sin by forever bearing the scars of his failures? the hot knife is placed near the slave's fingers. Or shall he learn from his sin by going without food until he can no longer stand? Here the master holds up his empty hand.

Choose his punishment...


 
      
Jes
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 08 2013, 18:07 PM 

User avatar

DM

Joined: 23 Aug 2006
Location: Camriiole

Zelly frowns as she watches on, but turns her eyes to the Mulhorandi among their group, as if fully expecting them to speak the answer immediately.

_________________
Login: The Copper Queen
Cromlech - The Best Copper This Side of Ruathym
Zelly Cys'dina - The Wounded Soul, Also Merchant

Aelynthi Nor'alei - The Bubbly Winged Elf


See me DM-side as:
[DM] Hlal | [DM] The Voice


 
      
666WaysToHell
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 08 2013, 18:20 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 22 Nov 2010
Location: Western Australia

Aoth thinks for a moment, and looks to the group by him.

"The slave is not his to begin with, they are owned by the temple and abuse is strictly prohibited.."

_________________
Aoth Nathandem - Wizard of house Tholaunt and chosen of Ma'at.


 
      
erroch
 
PostPosted: Sat, Mar 09 2013, 0:05 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 22 Jul 2010

Hasrabet…

Dominik quietly thanked Bruce for the long runs as part of his apprenticeship, even though not having the gnome strapped to his back did little to make up for running over sand. His near ever present robe had been discarded for more traditional clothing, that helped a little but it didn't change the thought that repeated itself in his head.

He was late.

Guldorand was blocked by Cordor soldiers and he'd received word that Wiltun was similarly barred. This left him with one option, lay portaling to Djedet and catching up. There are few things that compare to the traveling velocity of a properly prepared wizard: Endurance enhancers, haste spells, and magics that keep one's feet free of sinking into the sand. All of these were active along with a myriad of protective and obscuring magics. His path was parallel to that of the refugees. He didn't need to know exactly where they were, the dust and sand kicked up by the clashing armies of honored dead and demon kind were an easy enough indicator. He was certain he would overtake them. A long man moves much faster than a caravan, a properly ensorcelled wizard, even more so.

The straggling demons worried him. They seemed to have the same idea Dominik did; move around the flank to avoid the meat of the conflict. He watched them as he moved, judging their path. A frown crossed the wizard's face as he noted they'd intersect. He changed his bearing and his pace. He spared another glance and cursed his luck.

"Bloody hells... It can see me." He wondered for a moment if he'd actually said that out loud. He sighed as the jackal headed fiend gestured and the others demons adjusted their path. He was still a good twenty minutes from the refugees but the demons would be upon him in less than half that time. The hand that wasn't holding his staff grazed over the wands and scrolls arrayed about his belt. He resigned himself to an inevitable conflict and made sure the components were where he expected them to be.

As the two groups grew closer, Dominik cast two of the more powerful protection spells in a caster's arsenal: an empowered mantle and a greater sanctuary. The demons slowed. Perhaps they had lost track of their prey?

Dominik dismissed that bit of hope when he heard and felt an incantation taking form. The jackal’s muzzle pulled back to a toothy smile as it directed the spell. The magic pierced the protective sanctuary, shattering it with the ease of a finger jabbed into a soap bubble. He was visible and the other five demons started to close the still considerable distance between the two groups.

The exchange started in earnest.

Volleys of flame shredded Dominik’s spell mantles as he slammed Walls of Force in place to impede the charging demons. Bolts of lightning arced past spheres of acid and flame as the two casters exchanged spells, each tested each other’s defenses in a display of light, sound, and magical brute force. The jackal headed creature seemed to have an endless supply of defensive spells, and no shortage of evocations to hurl in response.

“At least there was a small blessing, it is limiting itself to evocations,” Dominick thought to himself.

As always the universe decided to make a fool of those who would give it such a line. The jackal headed demon, which Dominik’s mind now decided to recognize as an Arcanaloth, formed a sphere that glowed with the sun’s own radiance and hurled it towards him. There was barely enough time to erect an energy barrier and start running. The hell ball exploded a few meters behind him. The cacophony of fire, negative and positive energies threw the mage off his feet and made the world turn white.

Dominik pulled his feet together in time to see the Aracaloth disintegrate both of his walls of force with sickly green beams of energy. Dominik knew he was outclassed and did what any wizard in his shoes would have done.

He ran.

Sands of time mingled with the sands of Ne’sek as the wizard stopped time. A potion dulled the pain of the wounds he suffered in the dual to a manageable level, and he ran. He left one final wall of force behind him to hopefully catch any parting retaliatory strikes. Spells of sanctuary and further stoppings of time saw him clear.


Sometime later, Dominik would be seen among the refugees, part of his clothing had been burned off, other parts melted. Often he would be seen clutching at his side while looking for some of the Djedet Elders to confer with.

(This post was approved by Glim)

_________________
Image


 
      
GreatPigeon
 
PostPosted: Sun, Mar 10 2013, 3:05 AM 

User avatar

Tester

Joined: 04 May 2009
Location: London, UK

The Sekhry would nod to Aoth and then turn to the "wealthy man" and begin to tear into him in a stern military man's commanding voice.

All slaves of Mulhorand are owned by the Gods. Their work-station, their duties, and their discipline is administered by the temples and thus only the clerics of said Gods may so administer discipline as you seem so desirable to inflect upon this man before you.

He points toward the quivering slave in question then after forming a fist he points it again toward the wealthy man while striding right up to the man.

And It is known that slaves outside of the Empire of Mulhorand are owned by mortals instead of the Gods. Mortals are full of imperfections and thus, makes this union of master and slave imperfect and therefore unholy. Through the film of sins that the master would then view his slaves through he would judge with error and discipline with a hand heavier than each transgression would deem fit.

The Anhurran, painted red and with his armor glowing faintly a pale green with the blessings of Ma'at would then place his hand on the hilt of the feather etched Khopesh.

And so, that you have either made a threat against a slave of the Mulhorand Empire and thus property of the Gods, you have threatened the Gods themselves and your heretical right hand in which the threat is carried will be sacrificed. Or you have perpetuated the lies of the High Imaskar and have owned slaves for your own satisfaction and greed and thus your punishment is then given to those yoked in your service to decide. Regardless of this, as a sworn defender of Mulhorand, and a man who prays by the system and code of the Ma'at. I will tell you this only once.... Drop the knife

He then places his right hand on the Khopesh and pulls it out of its scabbard just an inch, he crouches slightly at the knee and it is apparent that the Khopesh can swing in a deadly arc with just a flick of his wrist.

_________________
The Peacock wrote:
[GreatPigeon] is better than me.


Uncle-Opustus wrote:
Just before I fall asleep, I like to pretend it's just a public feat so Pigeon can succeed in politics and save the world from poverty... with his unicorn and shining armour and Excalibur.


 
      
LastDragonRider
 
PostPosted: Tue, Mar 12 2013, 17:11 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Feb 2011
Location: Somewhere... anywhere.. not here...maybe there... (GMT -8)

Having traversed the path of Slaveborn to Freewoman and now wife of a Nobleborn, Nefertari watches this with clear interest, but remains silent as she stands behind her husband's left shoulder and under Rashidi's chest.

_________________
Vaeros ~ Forged of Dragonfire
Kestrel Swiftwing ~ Warpriest of Tempus
Ilharess Tagnik'zur d'Vilrath ~ l'Har'oloth zhah dro 'sohna!
Sir Khayri Aphaeleon ~ Avenger of Hoar, Knight of Fort Cystana
Image


 
      
Glim
 
PostPosted: Thu, Mar 14 2013, 19:36 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Jul 2010
Location: British Columbia

Gehenna...

The change upon the face of the master, which had held only rage before, is immediate as it shifts to form a smile of approval. Without any sort of fanfare, the figures of the master and slave both fade from view as had the previous two Mulans they had encountered, leaving only a darkened stone interior behind.

This time, even before the staff can lead them outside again, a low rumble is felt moreso than heard, coming from somewhere in the distance. It is not that of an approaching hoard, or of an earthy upheaval, but rather more akin to some living thing stirring from a deep slumber.

As the staff begins to tug at its bearer once again, they are lead back outside of the temple and immediately note the changes that have taken place since they entered that second building. The sky has darkened slightly with the beginnings of rain clouds forming, and it looks as though they could let fall their moisture at any time. The cobbles beneath their feet know show to be cracked and worn as though through great use or perhaps time itself, and the buildings around them show the beginning stages of disrepair and general neglect.

Winding their way in towards the heart of the great city, the stillness which had previously permeated every hint of the place is broken now than then. Faint sounds of tiny creatures yet unseen, passing by bushes or slipping past weeds can be heard by those with exceptional hearing and the city around them seems to be both dieing and coming alive around them.

They begin to note that there is now a gentle incline to the sections of road on which they travel, all leading towards the heart of the city. But it would seem that another stop is needed along the way, as they divert from their path briefly at the behest of the staff, to a third temple.

Entering the building, their minds take a moment to truly grasp what they see; for inside the building is an open expanse of desert, impossibly wide for the building, as though they had stepped into another place entirely... yet looking behind they still see the same cityscape through the door they entered.

A small but treacherous looking river splits the desert just beside where they enter, lush growth clinging to either side of the life-giving waterway, and two scholarly men stand arguing in exasperated tones, one on either side of the narrow river. As they approach, they hear the nature of the argument, and also note a third man, a slave, who is busily clearing a small section of the river bank, building materials resting nearby.

...you that while our knowledge of architecture is great, we are not the pinacle of knowledge in all fields. We should at least look at the foreign designs and see what we may learn from them.

I will not have our lands built up by the work of those who know nothing of our ways, who disrespect the Eight with their disregard for our faith. Did you not see the derision in their eyes? Our designs have served us well and will again.

But they have already solved the problem we face, the reason the first bridge failed.

Do you not think we will be able to solve it ourselves, in time?

The arguing, though cordial, seems to have been going on for some time and been going nowhere. Finally the third man, the slave, speaks out of turn. My father once taught me of hoof and shoe and i- before being cut off once again.

The two men turn to the Chosen, Our people need this bridge to live, but the waters are simply too treacherous for our current designs. Should we not accept the aid of the foreigners in this? Should we not stay true to ourselves and trust that we will find the answer under the guidance of the Eight, not the foreigners? the other man counters.


*-*-*-*-*


Nes'ek North...

The condensed fighting at the northern gate was well under control, and though a few injuries were inevitably taken here or there, the injured were quickly pulled from the line and replaced by the next man behind. Many of the injured were patched up then and there by the clergy of the Morninglord, while the more serious cases were rushed off to the Cathedral for more intensive care.

But then the defenders would begin to note a general lull in the forces arrayed against them. Though the demons still came on in periodic waves, attempting to push through, they begin to seem somehow diminished... whatever reason for this would not be known, until a few moments later.

Signal banners go up near the south wall, and cries go up of an approaching force from the south! Hunched forms in the darkness, rushing towards the southern gate at in-human speeds, as those militia who had been waiting in reserve at the south tensed and readied. Archers bent knocked arrow and bent bow, others drew sword or readied spear, and a few of the priests from the northern ranks broke off to support the inevitable first push against the south; it had only been a matter of time before Anubis' forces swung around to fully engulf the town and attack from both entry points.

As the host from the south drew nearer, the archers readied to loose... before a cry of HOLD! went up among the southern defenders. There's torchlight among them! He would cry... and sure enough, the dim flicker of torches could be seen among those silhouettes, something that demons would clearly have no use for.

IDENTIFY YOURSELVES OR WE WILL FIRE! a cautious shout across the desert night...


*-*-*-*-*


Hasrabet...

The War Knights would cut through the ranks of the lesser yugoloths with relative ease, putting them down by the dozen with their unified tactics and tight ranks. A few would inevitably slip by, but in the distance it could be seen that those few that do are quickly dispatched by the Silverscale or Djedet defenders who run with the line of townsfolk.

And then looking out into the river at the horde that is yet to come, a sense of overwhelming numbers would grow within even the hardened War Knights. On the southern bank, the ranks of the Honored Dead would begin to thin and diminish in the onslaught, allowing more of the wicked demons to begin slipping past.

The townsfolk should have enough of a lead, sir, we need t- the unfortunate War Knight's words, shouted through the din of battle, are cut short as a green ray of eldritch light stabs out of the desert night, reducing him to a fine pile of ash in an instant. And just barely visible in that distant darkness, a towering jackal-like figure in resplendent robes, slightly singed here and there, steps into view with a few more lesser yugoloths in tow.

Even as it does so, the beast launches into the beginnings of another incantation as the small group of yugoloths which now flank the War Knights from the south, rush to attack...


 
      
Kraniumbrud
 
PostPosted: Thu, Mar 14 2013, 20:28 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 08 Dec 2008
Location: Denmark

*raising a slight brow, a keen eyed elven archer, sends off a few dusin well aimed +9 arrow after the jackalthing, knowing well and no magical shield can block it, it is as if she thinks it second nature to bring down vastly powerfull mages, shooting faster and more precise than any natural archer, lighting springing from her finger tips as she activates the magic of her ancient form of archery.. just to be sure she sends off 2 arrows that are sure to hit, heavily enchanted arrows darting to the target, avoiding foes on the battlefield, going strait for the groin of the jackal*
Hey, puppy face, now you know what it means to be a bitch!

((92 spot, level 17 arcane archer,(used seeking arrows for the 2 nut shots) wearing arcane defiance cloth aswell))

_________________
-Ja'acira Arrows'R'Us
-Balorin Wolfhammer- A dwarf so old he remember when the Beer stein was invented
Saisha Jai'diem Knight of bahamut, and abit of a looker


Last edited by Kraniumbrud on Thu, Mar 14 2013, 20:49 PM, edited 2 times in total.

 
      
Naivatkal
 
PostPosted: Thu, Mar 14 2013, 20:31 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 26 May 2010

Salema's lungs burned as they ran; she had not run like this in ages, not since that one fateful night years prior. But she held on, keeping up with the people in her charge, only pausing when she had to renew the Mass Haste with another scroll. The armor was wearing upon her, though she was fit she was not used to such sustained speeds in armor. Even in the heat of combat she did not have to move like this, save in bursts to save a companion.

Relief welled up in her as they neared Nes'ek, and she let out a small cheer. Though upon hearing the order she immediately shouted for everyone to stop, once in Mulhorandi and once in Common. Wait! Stop! Let me speak with them! she called out, pushing gently past people in her hurry.

She would practically stumble forward as she shouted to the archers Hold fire, please! We hail from Djedet and the lands beyond. Salema gasped, catching her breath as she fell to her knees in the sand, The demons.. they are behind us. The.. War Knights... holding them off.. in Hasrabet! Pushing sweat-dripped hair from her face she added, Please, for the love of Sharess let us through!

_________________
Whomst've'll'd'mn't I play:
Salema Nefahri :: A penny for your thots
Zrae'a'stra'fryn :: That which nightmares are made of
Khasir :: From the East a storm is coming


 
      
Remal
 
PostPosted: Thu, Mar 14 2013, 21:29 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 12 Feb 2011
Location: Elsewhen

-Hasrabet-

Cursing as his blade finds head of another lesser demon, Malatril turned to should something as he saw two arrows streaking towards enemy caster.
"Ania, Blake, with me! Hall, you and rest hold the line and start falling back! We'll cover the south flank! Bralor, Meesh hit them with everything you've got! Archers, bring that bastard down" he shouted as he disengaged from the line to meet new enemy threat, as knights started to slowly fall back in organized fashion.

_________________
"A designer knows he has achieved perfection not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away." - Antoine de Saint-Exupry


 
      
Elorathall
 
PostPosted: Thu, Mar 14 2013, 21:31 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Mar 2011

Having left his celestial champion as well as Taelstarr and Simon to continue defending the northern walls, Marcus moved to the southern walls to assess the new threat alongside the other priests that relocated - though his pace was far less hurried. When he arrives and takes note of the true identity of the approaching group, he raises a hand and addresses the wall's defenders in an authoritative tone. "Lower your weapons. Allow them entrance."

As soon as a gap is opened in the barricade, Marcus takes a few paces out of the gate and addresses the group - the blank case of his sun-mask making it unclear who in particular he is speaking to. "You are expected. Have your soldiers and escort join our defense. Move the non-combatants to the cathedral of Kelemnvor, where we hold water and medical care. Together, we shall make our stand." He then symbolically moves aside, allowing the refugees to enter.

He does utter a single sentence to Salema when she passes. "If the demons arrive before the War Knights, the gate must be closed and the barricade rebuilt. The Knights must find their own way."

_________________
Aernoud Van Brabant: Heir of the House. Proprietor of the Beer Wagon.
"Go to the Mayfields, have a pint, and wait for this to blow over."

Aurelius: Sunmaster of Amaunator. Contemplative. Aspirant to Transcendance.
"Sol Invictus"


 
      
NinjaClarinet
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 15 2013, 1:06 AM 



Player

Joined: 12 Jul 2010

Gehenna



---


A solemn voice drifts from the back of the group, where Talyne had been leaning on her staff silently through the trials thus far. She takes her time with her words, perhaps doubting herself, but she tries to mask the indecision.

"Rigid thinking has always been the curse of our people. When confronted with a problem, we tend to look at the solutions in two lights: The righteous and the false. It narrows one's vision until they can only see one part of the problem. We've no need to change our ways to solve this riddle, only broaden our perspective. The Great Rivers that feed our people are tamed by the gentle souls of the River Mother's faithful, and this one would be no exception. The children of Isis always stand ready to soothe the spirits of the waters, and you may build your bridge the way you like, and give the scholars of Thoth the time they need to study a better way."


 
      
Silent2001
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 15 2013, 1:12 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 19 Jun 2007
Location: United Kingdomshire

Bruised, battered and definitely bleeding Adoster's stamina would begin to flag but he'd remain steadfast in his resolve to hold the northern gate. When he begins to notice the thinning in the ranks he takes heart, and calls on a hidden reserve of strength. Another well placed swipe would see one of the lesser yugoloths smote, and he'd point the blood-coated scimitar toward the desert beyond the wall, he'd turn back to the troops at his flanks and bellow "Make them pay a tithe of blood for every inch they dare take on your land!" He'd spit a glob of blood, and a couple teeth from his gob, and shield bash the next opponent over the wall. The fighting continues!

_________________
Image<3 Maryn
We are going to die and that makes us the lucky ones.


 
      
CelestialDante
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 15 2013, 10:02 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 15 Apr 2009
Location: United Kingdom

NinjaClarinet wrote:
Gehenna



---


A solemn voice drifts from the back of the group, where Talyne had been leaning on her staff silently through the trials thus far. She takes her time with her words, perhaps doubting herself, but she tries to mask the indecision.

"Rigid thinking has always been the curse of our people. When confronted with a problem, we tend to look at the solutions in two lights: The righteous and the false. It narrows one's vision until they can only see one part of the problem. We've no need to change our ways to solve this riddle, only broaden our perspective. The Great Rivers that feed our people are tamed by the gentle souls of the River Mother's faithful, and this one would be no exception. The children of Isis always stand ready to soothe the spirits of the waters, and you may build your bridge the way you like, and give the scholars of Thoth the time they need to study a better way."


Imhotep would add:

"There is nothing wrong with being humble and knowing your limits, around us with have sought the aid of wetlanders, Maat has shown us that some are of good heart and respectful to our ways."

_________________
Sir Azeriel El'johnson - Tormtar and Triadic Knight


 
      
erroch
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 15 2013, 14:55 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 22 Jul 2010

Nes'ek North

Among the Djedet refugees is a certain blue shrouded wizard some might recognize as Dominik. His clothing is burned in places, melted in others, and the skin through the rends looks reddened as if magically healed. None the less the hand that does not hold his staff is seen to protectively guard his side.

Once the non-combatants are through the gate he finds Salema shortly after she passes Marcus. He addresses her, maybe both of them, it's hard to tell. "I can bring the refugees... the non-combatants to Kohlingen. The Elders wish me to remove them promptly, but I can only open the circle once. I can maintain it for nearly five hours, but once it is gone, it is gone and I will not be able to create another. I am prepared to cast this now, but I want your opinions. You have helped to carry these people far."

His eyes watch Salema as he speaks. When he is finished he drags his gaze over the others near by. An eyebrow twitches upward when they pass over the nearby man in the Sun Mask.

_________________
Image


 
      
Glim
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 15 2013, 17:43 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Jul 2010
Location: British Columbia

Gehenna...

Though the two scholars nod at the wise words of Talyne and Imhotep, they do not smile, they go about their task as the slave continues to toil at the future sight of the bridge. Time seems to speed up as the scene changes, the sun rising and setting much more quickly than it should, showing the progress of the bridge being built, a magnificent structure indeed. Aoth, the follower of Thoth, would likely recognize some Mulharondi design precepts in its construction, but also some more foreign concepts which seem to have been used to great effect. All is quiet around the bridge, though the occasional cart does pass by, and the bridge seems to hold up remarkably.

Then after awhile of viewing the feat of engineering, the finished bridge is replaced by the original scene of the two men and their slave, but this time they remind the slave that it is not his place to speak out of turn, but then recognize that he may yet have something of value to impart and ask him to speak of what his father taught him. Once again time speeds up, but this time it is not only the bridge that takes form, but a whole town that is built around it, a small but prosperous center which accepts trade from both sides of the river and acts as a waystation between the two. And at its heart, stands the slave, now adorned with a single blue circle on his forehead.

The fairest of gems are often found in the plainest earth, the freeman would speak, his tone distant as though he only half-remembers the words.

A great cracking and splintering sound would follow as the bridge begins to shatter under the force of a sudden rush of water... a rush that diverts from the river, and the jagged debris of the bridge, directly towards the Chosen!

The wall of water and splintered wood hits them with full force, pounding them back out the door which they entered through and back out into the city streets. The torrent of water carries them right down the street, bouncing along and gasping for breath, until they wash up against a dead end some hundred yards away. With the amount of debris in the water, it is likely that they survived only because of the protective enchantments they wore, and even with such they suffer a few minor wounds here and there either from bouncing along cobblestones or building corners, or from shards of the broken bridge.

When finally they manage to collect themselves, whomever carries the five gemstones would notice that one of them, the Emerald, has darkened and cracked, looking now like a small hunk of shattered glass...


*-*-*-*-*

Nes'ek...

The fighting seems to subside for the time being, with only a light but constant press of demons against the defenders at the north gate to make sure that they can't stop really stop to catch their breath or shore up holes in the barricades, but certainly not enough to give any serious threat of overrunning the position. Even so, a quarter of the Djedet militia move north to reinforce the ranks there and provide some relief to those who have been fighting, guard Qeb himself offering to trade out with Adoster to give the tenacious man a brief respite. The remainder of the Djedet militia and Silverscale tribe stay near to the south gate, watching over the non-combatants and the Elders, and keeping eyes to the southern desert, waiting to catch sight of the War Knights.

If would seem that they might just have a bit of time to consider their next move, now that the people of Djedet have arrived...


*-*-*-*-*


Hasrabet...

The first three arrows thud into the Arcanoloth with practiced precision and to brutal effect, stagging the beast, but the ones that follow begin to pass right through as the creature starts revert back to its natural state; the ice and snow that makes up a Simulacrum.

With the remainder of the potent arrows zipping through the empty space where the duplicate once stood, the real Arcanoloth is revealed some dozen yards to the side, nearer to the southern edge of the horde advancing over the river. With a dog-faced sneer, it finishes its second incantation and great leathery appendages burst forth from the desert sands to grasp and slap at the retreating War Knights in an effort to break the order of their retreat. A third spell is begun as a few of the river-hoard demons peel off to stand guard over the Arcanoloth, while the majority finish off what little remains of the Honored Dead, turning northward towards the retreating War Knights.

Only their practiced discipline allows the War Knights to maintain their ordered retreat in the face of the oncoming hoard and the interference of the greater Yugoloth's magic, but even then it is difficult to guess whether they will make it to Nes'ek in time...


 
      
CelestialDante
 
PostPosted: Sat, Mar 16 2013, 9:29 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 15 Apr 2009
Location: United Kingdom

*Following the ordeal Imhotep wonders if what he said was wrong, with so many lives at stake he can't afford to slip up. Should he slide back to his stern ways of the Mulhourandi system, tested and proven forming the greatest nation on Toril ... or would he continue to learn from the traits of Mahir and the other chosen? He offers help to any hurt following the minute tsunami*

_________________
Sir Azeriel El'johnson - Tormtar and Triadic Knight


 
      
666WaysToHell
 
PostPosted: Sat, Mar 16 2013, 9:39 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 22 Nov 2010
Location: Western Australia

Aoth slowly got up with the support of his staff. Trembling slightly, obviously not used to such an event happening to him. Once he calms down, he looks to see if the others are alright. His Panther, Nera, hisses angrily towards the direction of where they were washed from.

_________________
Aoth Nathandem - Wizard of house Tholaunt and chosen of Ma'at.


 
      
Naivatkal
 
PostPosted: Sat, Mar 16 2013, 16:15 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 26 May 2010

Oh, thank the gods Salema breathed in relief as the unknown man stepped forward and allowed them entry as she caught her breath. After waving everyone through, remaining behind, she paused at the words from both Marcus and Dominik. I understand the still-charming, despite her sweat-beaded face, young woman responded, They will make it.

Chocolate colored eyes turned to the Azuthian and she nods quickly, and thankfully. Good, good! Oh, good, we can get them out of here and to safety then. I will have them gather in the Cathedral and let them know to expect a portal to Kohl. Thank you! she smiles warmly, though his appearance registered on her suddenly. Oh! Here. the lavender armored woman said suddenly. A hand reached out towards his side, stopping far short, and she uttered a soft prayer in Mulhorandi. Once the Regenerate spell was complete she gave him another smile before running off after her people.

There would be no rest for the weary, it seemed. Once the message was relayed and passed on to the survivors from Djedet and the lands beyond, she moved to the other divine casters that had come with them. Orders began to be gently issued out, speaking in their native tongue.
I need you to help with the wounded first and foremost. If you have restoration spells or scrolls, use them to revitalize the defenders already engaged. I saw our men from Djedet moving to the north, start there to help refresh them. If they need healing, work with your mundane skills first. Save your healing spells for dire situations. And, here take these.

From her bag she pulled out a bandage bag, handing over thirty or so of the high-grade healing kits (// ie +10 kits) to add to any supplies they might already have. Should there be any protests that she might need them, she would assure them she had plenty more. Focus on healing and restoration for now. There are a lot of them, so enchanting everyone will be hard. If you can, focus on their weapons and armor it will be the best way to defend them. Take these, also. she then handed them Death Ward wands, one each Thank the Eight I had them already made. Use them on the defenders, make sure they are covered. They won't last near as long as a a proper spell, but it will be enough. Just in case. And make sure you coordinate with any already there! May the Eight and Bast bless you!

Letting them go, she would address any arcane casters they might have as well. Less instructions were given to them, trusting them to use their more unfamiliar spells better than she could direct. She'd ask one or two, depending on how many there were, join the defenders to the north and reserve their Mass Haste spells, if any, to when the situations warranted the need. There was no idea how long they had to hold out, after all.

With those tasks done the Sharessin paused to drink a Lesser Restoration potion. Feeling revitalized to some extent she assessed the situation. With the north reinforced and defended and the south yet to see combat, the wounded were the next priority in her mind. She headed there, flexing her fingers as she set herself, and her rather superb healing skills, to the task of helping the wounded. An ear was kept open for signs that the battle conditions were changing. She left her own protective spells uncast for now, waiting for when she would inevitably go into battle.

// FYI - Salema's healing skill is something crazy like 60+. I know with a +10 kit and a Take 20 she heals around 90 HP. At work, can't get the actual figure.

_________________
Whomst've'll'd'mn't I play:
Salema Nefahri :: A penny for your thots
Zrae'a'stra'fryn :: That which nightmares are made of
Khasir :: From the East a storm is coming


 
      
Elorathall
 
PostPosted: Sat, Mar 16 2013, 16:40 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Mar 2011

When the last of the Djedet refugees has passed into the town, Marcus moves to the center of the southern entrance - his head slowly turning as he scans the southern approach for any sign of the War Knights or the approaching demons.

_________________
Aernoud Van Brabant: Heir of the House. Proprietor of the Beer Wagon.
"Go to the Mayfields, have a pint, and wait for this to blow over."

Aurelius: Sunmaster of Amaunator. Contemplative. Aspirant to Transcendance.
"Sol Invictus"


 
      
Glim
 
PostPosted: Sat, Mar 16 2013, 17:34 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Jul 2010
Location: British Columbia

Gehenna...

While the worst of the wounds are mended, the staff seems to remain dormant, and a brief moment of panic might even ensue, perhaps fearing that the staff was somehow damaged in the tumult. Once the Chosen were relatively fit for travel however, the staff gives a sudden jerk and begins once again to tug them closer in towards the heart of the strange city.

Unlike with the previous "tests", the city has seemed not to change at all after this latest one, perhaps a marking of the disastrous results. But if that was the wrong answer, why did the city decay when they spoke the right answers in the previous two tests?

After what seems like an hour of fruitless walking, they face a fourth temple, identical in design to the other three seen thusfar. Entering its lone door, they are met with their fourth trial.

A wisp of a man with a smile on his face, but some small amount of worry as well, greets them as soon as they enter. Thank you for coming on such short notice my friends, he would usher them in closer as he continues to speak. I asked you here to help an old friend of mine who I fear has lost his way...

At the utterance of those words, a second man appears in a scene off to one side of the darkened temple. This man is quite obese and surrounded by all manner of worldly pleasures. It is clear that he is wealthy of coin and has several slaves who wait on his every need, surrounded by exotic food and drink. The tittering of a few women can even be heard somewhere in the background.

The first man continues to speak as the wealthy man seems to remain unaware of the group of Chosen or the speaker. I don't know what to do. I know that he is no longer happy, that these things have begun to lose their appeal to him, he knows that he is lost... he no longer even feels connected to the Eight, he says.

I don't know what to do... please, what should we do?


*-*-*-*-*


Nes'ek...

The ordered retreat of the War Knights served them well in ensuring they weren't simply pursued and cut down by the demons that hound them and soon enough the signature red armor can be seen from the southern walls of Nes'ek. It soon becomes apparent however, why the northern gate has been enjoying a relative reprieve, as a second force of yugoloths can be seen barreling in from the west, having splintered from the northern host and gone around the high cliffs that ring the city, in an effort to cut off the line of reinforcements from Djedet.

With demons to the south of them and to the west as well, the situation looks grim indeed for the War Knights. It is anyone's guess whether they will be able to make it into the fortified town in time, or whether the push from the west will effectively cut them off.

Will reinforcements be sent out? Or will the barricades be rebuilt for the greater good? Who is to say...


 
      
Revak
 
PostPosted: Sat, Mar 16 2013, 19:39 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 20 Nov 2010
Location: Inside a Magic Bag full of True Strike Potions

"Keep moving damnit! We're almost there!" The young wood elf sergeant would bark out to her fellow knights as they continued their retreat to Ne'sek, cutting down any stray demon or local beast that unfortunately strayed in front of them. As she runs, she hastily sheathes her blade and places her shield on her back in an effort to pick up her pace with the others, aswell as provide a means of defence from archer fire from behind them. As another precaution, she starts to burn through her Mass Haste scrolls quickly, giving a much needed boost to speed, seeing as time was now working against them...

_________________
Image
Thanks, Boots!


 
      
Elorathall
 
PostPosted: Sat, Mar 16 2013, 22:25 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Mar 2011

After contemplating the situation for a moment, Marcus orders that the southern defenders begin rebuilding the barricade but leave enough space for a single man to pass at a time. As the barricade closes again, he looks southwards in clear contemplation - the dilemma on his mind quite clear. Should he close the barricade entirely and possibly doom the War Knights to death, but minimize the chance of the horde breaching the barricade? A heroic death in battle against a demonic horde would be a glorious death for any Temposan, but it would be death all the same. And the loss of such an elite force would surely be felt. Or should he risk his own unit and whatever volunteers could be mustered and venture out to their aid - weakening the town's defense and possibly dying alongside the War Knights themselves, but grasping the chance to regain the War Knight's expertise. After long moment of estimations and contemplation, he calls over Adoster.
"Private. Your recommendation?"

_________________
Aernoud Van Brabant: Heir of the House. Proprietor of the Beer Wagon.
"Go to the Mayfields, have a pint, and wait for this to blow over."

Aurelius: Sunmaster of Amaunator. Contemplative. Aspirant to Transcendance.
"Sol Invictus"


 
      
Remal
 
PostPosted: Sun, Mar 17 2013, 0:20 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 12 Feb 2011
Location: Elsewhen

Malatril was in the full run now, moving from Knight to Knight, seemingly random, and handing each one of those a scroll. As Ania prepared to activate one of her Mass Haste scrolls, he grabbed last of his scrolls.

"NOW!" he shouted, as every War Knight that was given a scroll, himself included, skidded for a moment and finished the final words of the spell, turning towards the south, just as Ania activated Mass haste scroll.

In an instant, large hulking figures of at least half-a-dozen stone Juggernauts appeared just behind the Knights, and as one, charged south in the ranks of demons bolstered with haste magic. War Knights continued their retreat, hoping hulking behemonts will buy them some needed time...

_________________
"A designer knows he has achieved perfection not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away." - Antoine de Saint-Exupry


 
      
GreatPigeon
 
PostPosted: Sun, Mar 17 2013, 5:42 AM 

User avatar

Tester

Joined: 04 May 2009
Location: London, UK

In Gehenna...

The tidal wave had swept Mahir about considerably. Wearing the heavy armor had added to the considerable punishment to which the waves wrought on him. Although strong swimmer he had to fight hard to keep his head above water. Finally spotting his wife he swam to her and swallowed much of the wave while trying to keep her afloat. The wave subsided and dropped them without ceremony. His bag felt lighter, considerably. Upon inspection several of his extra weapons and gear had been washed away and he discovered the broken emerald and passed it around without a word.

He turned to the current task at hand... And spoke these words unto the man...

"Each tree is recognized by its own fruit. All good trees bear good fruit and likewise a bad tree shall bear bad fruit. Once the bad has taken root inside a good tree, it's fruit too shall bare the dark rotten and despoiled meat of its counterparts and no good fruit will be known unto that tree again. A bad tree can only have two futures to be cut down and cast into the fire or to be cut down and used as shelter or turned into plowhandles or other tools. Its purpose is no more to bear fruit that others might enjoy for eternity, but to serve in the lowest possible condition....

And so your friend if he wishes for the Afterlife, though he feels not close to the Eight now will cast off his worldly possessions and turn himself in at the nearest temple to serve as a slave by the Priests judgement. So that his being, this bad tree that I speak off, can be cut down and used for the prosperity of the people and not any longer steal the resources the good trees in his orchard drink from the ground around them. And if this being unacceptable for your friend the only other option once with fruit so dark and rotten may hope for is for the fires to consume him quickest."





//Heavily borrowed from scripture

_________________
The Peacock wrote:
[GreatPigeon] is better than me.


Uncle-Opustus wrote:
Just before I fall asleep, I like to pretend it's just a public feat so Pigeon can succeed in politics and save the world from poverty... with his unicorn and shining armour and Excalibur.


 
      
Silent2001
 
PostPosted: Sun, Mar 17 2013, 16:11 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 19 Jun 2007
Location: United Kingdomshire

Adoster would walk haggardly back from the line once Qeb offers to relieve him. He would stand beside Marcus and remove the dented helmet to expel a few labored breaths as he considers the situation.

"You can't spare the men to organise a rescue mission, behind the walls and barricades they have a chance to repulse the demons, outside they'll be overwhelmed. That said the War Knights would also assist greatly in the defense of the town, so much so that they may tip the balance in our favour instead of it being a stalemate, and if there are demons coming from both sides we'll need their expertise to ensure this gate doesn't fall. Close the barricade but, if we can, place a ramp against it for the War Knights to hop over. Have Simon destroy it once they breach the wall so the demons can't follow. I'm not sure where you'll get a ramp. If you do choose to go out take as few men as you can and leave Simon behind. I'll go with you if that is what you decide to do."

The paladin would place his hands on his chest and be revitalized by the divine energies of the Even Handed. He'd look significantly less bloodied, but none the less, tired.

_________________
Image<3 Maryn
We are going to die and that makes us the lucky ones.


 
      
Elorathall
 
PostPosted: Sun, Mar 17 2013, 16:55 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Mar 2011

Marcus listens silently, giving a nod after Adoster gives his opinion, before giving the paladin a few healing potions. He then turns and addresses the defenders again.

"The purpose of the War Knights was to ensure the refugees from Djedet were able to reach the relative safety of Ne'sek. This, they have done. Keep this entrance open as long as possible, but prepare to close it immediately if the threat to Ne'sek becomes too great. We cannot allow the demons to flow into the town."

Swords and spears, prepare to repel the demons. Archers and mages to the high points of the barricade. Call what magical and celestial warrior creatures you may, and send them outside of the wall. The War Knights will require a moment to enter Ne'sek, and I intend to give them that moment. The fiends shall find the blades of law to be keen indeed.


And with this rather enigmatic phrase, Marcus reenters the barricade and recalls his celestial champion to his side - sending her out of the walls when she arrives. "You are amongst our strongest warriors here. Prepare to hold off the demons as best you can. When the barricade is closed, fly to rejoin our ranks again. Do not risk yourself needlessly, your will yet be needed."

_________________
Aernoud Van Brabant: Heir of the House. Proprietor of the Beer Wagon.
"Go to the Mayfields, have a pint, and wait for this to blow over."

Aurelius: Sunmaster of Amaunator. Contemplative. Aspirant to Transcendance.
"Sol Invictus"


 
      
Glim
 
PostPosted: Mon, Mar 18 2013, 0:41 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Jul 2010
Location: British Columbia

Nes'ek...

Though the beasts had been gaining ground on the War Knights steadily, more-so when they suddenly skidded to a halt to cast from their scrolls, the veritable wall of stone fists and bodies that was created as the Juggernauts slows them down apace. Demonic flesh slams against unyielding stone in a veritable wave as the yugoloths stab and claw at the unliving guardians, who in turn swing their hammer-like arms in wide swaths to club the beasts into submission. When the tide grows too strong, threatening to overwhelm the Juggernauts, they cease trying to inflict casualties and simply link arms, plant their feet, and hold at least one section of the demons at bay, as more spill through around the sides of the line of stone.

Aided by the magical boost in speed, the War Knights reach the walls mere moments before the western host rounds the last corner, a lobster-like Piscoloth spurring them onward from the rear. A call of Keep low! sounds as the War Knights begin picking their way through the single file entrance between the barricades, arrows and spears sailing over their heads to pierce the enemy ranks, trying to slow them down.

As Ania starts to pick her way through the line, a sudden stabbing pain in her leg is followed by a sharp tug as a Canoloth grips her calf in its powerful jaws, fangs piercing through even the thick Tempurian plate. Before she can be dragged off however, the pressure loosens and she finds herself hastily dragged in towards the town by one of her fellows, looking back to see an angelic guardian shoving aside the now headless body of the Canoloth and holding the gap in the barricade with a few other summoned allies.

With the last of the War Knights through, waiting militia begin hastily putting the last of the barricades back into place as the archers and spearmen keep up with their hail of ammunition into the yugoloth ranks. A few meters ahead, the line of Juggernauts finally crashes down under the weight of the tide.

Like the force of that same name however, the yugoloth host seems to lose its momentum once the barricades are back in place, rolling back a short ways into the desert as quickly as they had pressed. They stop just outside of nominal bow range, as the Arcanoloth and a hulking Nycoloth can be seen further behind their lines, presumably discussing the next move in safety.

The press at the northern gate remains light, but consistent...


*-*-*-*-*

Gehenna...

As the Sekhry advises the distraught speaker, the figure of the wealthy man begins to slim as he stands, shedding the riches around him like one might shed a cloak. No more can the sound of waiting women be heard in the background, and all sign of any feast or wealth is gone, leaving only the man, now a slave, but now rich with new life and faith.

The two men give a thankful nod to the Chosen, before they too fade from view.

Ma'at...? A singular voice rumbles out from the direction of the city's center, and though it is spoken in the quiet tone of a memory only half recalled, the voice carries an undeniable undertone of power within it.

The staff begins to tug even more urgently in the wake of that voice, as though spurring the Chosen onward, leading them deeper towards the heart of the city. The ground rises more steeply here and they travel in such haste that they barely have time to realize that the city has decayed even further around them.

Now clearly more then simple weathering due to time, the buildings and streets begin to show signs of evident decay. Weeds have choked through the gaps between cobbles, prying them up entirely in places. Shops and houses seem to have remained unused and untended for years, the mortar crumbling, leaving a few holes in walls or ceilings. Plants which ones climbed gracefully up trellises and along walls, have grown rampant... and yet despite nature and time working to break down and reclaim the city, no birds wing about the city, no insects buzz and bite. There remains no sign of life, save for an occasional rustling of bush or clatter of falling rock as something small and unseen winds its way through the city.

As they reach the very center of the city, they look back to realize that they are at an impossible height, looking down at the city that must have taken them nearly a day to traverse through, and yet it seems like only hours. They are struck with the realization that such a high pinnacle like the one they now stand on should have easily been seen even from before they entered the city walls, yet none of them can recall seeing such.

As the staff finally ceases its urgent tugging, what is presumably one final temple looms before them, situated just prior to the crest of the city rise. Entering it, they are met with an impossibly wide scene, similar to the river crossing, and yet there stands before them a different kind of river. Two clashing armies do battle upon the desert sands, one comprised of warriors of the Mulharondi, the other a host of faceless roughly humanoid creatures whose features are obscured by shadow.

It would seem as though the Chosen arrive just in time to witness the turn of the tide, as with a feat of impressive leadership, the general of the Mulharondi forces spurs his warriors into a daring maneuver which they execute with practiced precision and disciplined heart, wedging the enemy force and striking through to its very core.

The Chosen witness the ensuing eradication of the remaining forces of darkness, and without warning a solemn looking man in the robes of a Thothian walks from behind them, to stand at their side. With voluminous book and quill in hand, the man asks in a studious if stuffy voice, Our General has won a great battle this day, for all our people. How shall this victory be remembered in the histories, for all those who follow to learn from?


 
      
LastDragonRider
 
PostPosted: Mon, Mar 18 2013, 4:29 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Feb 2011
Location: Somewhere... anywhere.. not here...maybe there... (GMT -8)

*Nefertari steps a few feet from her Sphinx guardian trying to attract the Scholar's attention before speaking in her quiet manner*

Em-Hotep Learned One, Our Noble General should be remembered with truth and honesty, his actions speak very highly of his skill in tactics, his troops unquestioning obedience in the face of such odds for his skill as a leader. His qualities are those highly sought in a leader, those are how he should be remembered, it should be emphasized that it was these that brought him victory, these gifts of the Eight. The dead should also be honored, this is the way of our people as taught us by the God-kings.

*she steps back without waiting for a response, glancing at Imhotep to see if she spoke out of turn*

EDIT: Added a sentence

_________________
Vaeros ~ Forged of Dragonfire
Kestrel Swiftwing ~ Warpriest of Tempus
Ilharess Tagnik'zur d'Vilrath ~ l'Har'oloth zhah dro 'sohna!
Sir Khayri Aphaeleon ~ Avenger of Hoar, Knight of Fort Cystana
Image


Last edited by LastDragonRider on Tue, Mar 19 2013, 2:20 AM, edited 1 time in total.

 
      
CelestialDante
 
PostPosted: Mon, Mar 18 2013, 7:49 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 15 Apr 2009
Location: United Kingdom

*Imhotep would nod to his wife, seemingly happy with the response. He then looks to the general of the group should Mahir have anything to add*

_________________
Sir Azeriel El'johnson - Tormtar and Triadic Knight


 
      
Elorathall
 
PostPosted: Mon, Mar 18 2013, 9:03 AM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Mar 2011

In Ne'sek..

As the demons seem to pull back from the onslaught, Marcus offers the gathered defenders a short "well done. Be vigilant for a second wave, or any new trickery" before descending the barricade and approaching the War Knights.
"Be welcomed to Ne'sek, War Knights. You have done well thus far. I suspect Tempus to be pleased at the sight of your valor, and we are grateful that you are able to join us here. There is water, food and care in the cathedral of Kelemnvor. Take this moment to replenish yourselves, and then find me once again. I suspect this assault will soon intensify, and your blades will be sorely needed."

He then moves to treat Ania's leg with some bandaging - stopping the worst of the bleeding that she can be properly treated in the cathedral.

_________________
Aernoud Van Brabant: Heir of the House. Proprietor of the Beer Wagon.
"Go to the Mayfields, have a pint, and wait for this to blow over."

Aurelius: Sunmaster of Amaunator. Contemplative. Aspirant to Transcendance.
"Sol Invictus"


 
      
erroch
 
PostPosted: Mon, Mar 18 2013, 15:16 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 22 Jul 2010

Having previously spoken with the Elders and more recently Salema, the Magister of Kohlingen begins his work. He clears out an area ten paces by ten paces near where the refugees are housed. To any curious he explains that he is going to help bring them to safety; that once he starts he needs not be disturbed. The blue robed mage divests himself of most of his belongings retaining his staff, rod, and a small bag of components.

Dominik uses the base of his staff to draw a circle about him; filling it with geometric shapes any practitioner may recognize. He sets the circle with a touch of his art, and reviews his components: a bag of amber dust, a worn stone pried from the path just outside of Kohlingen, and a pinch of dust that had accumulated in the engravings of the old law stone just outside of the city. The wizard begins his ritual, invoking conjuration magics to create a teleportation circle. The symbolic link provided byt eh stone and dust assisting as Dominik focuses the art on the destination. The path by the law tables just east of Kohlingen.

_________________
Image


 
      
Remal
 
PostPosted: Tue, Mar 19 2013, 15:54 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 12 Feb 2011
Location: Elsewhen

Malatril would nod to Marcus, resting on his blade and catching his breath. Most of the Knights would be doing the same or simply plopping on the ground, taking a respite from all the combat and running. Only one who would seem to be untouched by this would be Hallvardr, his second in command, his stamina exceeding that of normal men. He would already be tending to Ania's leg wound, and he'd silently nod to Marcus as he approached to assist.
"All right people, five minute break, then I want full report on your status. Report any wounds and afflictions to Bralor or Devlin. If there's shortage to mind blanks, healing potions and restoration scrolls, let me know! Casters, report on your remaining spells and prayers!" shouted Malatril as he turned to Marcus. "What's the situation and where are we needed most?"

_________________
"A designer knows he has achieved perfection not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away." - Antoine de Saint-Exupry


 
      
Elorathall
 
PostPosted: Tue, Mar 19 2013, 17:24 PM 

User avatar

Player

Joined: 13 Mar 2011

"The horde would appear to be focused at the southern walls, at this time. Though I suspect they will soon reinforce the northern assault. With the entirety of the defense now concentrated here, we will be subjected to the entirety of their unholy fury.

I intend to concentrate the efforts of the remaining Vanguard on the northern wall. The War Knights may choose to concentrate on the southern barricade while they retain the highest number of experienced warriors, and it stands to reason the southern wall will be subjected to the strongest assault.

I expect the barricades would not hold a determined press for long. We must establish our strategy. Both the temple of Lathander and of Kelemnvor are hallowed ground, and the temple of Kelemnvor has been dug out of the cliff. These two locations offer the most sensible strongpoints once the barricades fall. I expect the demonic horde to focus its effort on destroying the temple of Lathander first, before moving to the cathedral. Or perhaps they will encircle and besiege the temple and prevent those gathered there from aiding the defense of the cathedral - and the refugees therein. What man could truly know the mind of a demon?

The alternative would be to begin a general evacuation trough the portals, and close them from the other side. I expect the Ministry of Magic to do so in Guldorand if it becomes apparent Ne'sek is lost, though I have my doubts the Jarl of Wiltun has taken such precautions. The temporary portal to Kohlingen being established may also aid in an evacuation. I offer this possibility for consideration, but must state that both Dawnmaster Akuum and myself will not abandon the temple of Lathander - nor will any of the true faithful.

_________________
Aernoud Van Brabant: Heir of the House. Proprietor of the Beer Wagon.
"Go to the Mayfields, have a pint, and wait for this to blow over."

Aurelius: Sunmaster of Amaunator. Contemplative. Aspirant to Transcendance.
"Sol Invictus"


 
      
GreatPigeon
 
PostPosted: Tue, Mar 19 2013, 22:38 PM 

User avatar

Tester

Joined: 04 May 2009
Location: London, UK

In Gehenna...

As the beloved wife of Imhotep has uttered, the scribe must write the names of the dead, the general as well. His tactics are to be remembered but the Eight honored first and foremost above all. A General does not his duty to become closer to the crown. He does so out of love for the Empire and the people.

He muses for but a second...

Why is it that we honor and fawn upon the capstone of the pyramid, is it not the case that the stone on the bottom, the one which bears the pains and pressures and weights from the stones above for all of eternity is just as magnificent...

_________________
The Peacock wrote:
[GreatPigeon] is better than me.


Uncle-Opustus wrote:
Just before I fall asleep, I like to pretend it's just a public feat so Pigeon can succeed in politics and save the world from poverty... with his unicorn and shining armour and Excalibur.


 
      
Display posts from previous:  Sort by  
Forum locked This topic is locked, you cannot edit posts or make further replies.  [ 252 posts ]  Go to page Previous  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6  Next


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 3 guests


You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum

Search for:
Jump to:  
cron
Powered by phpBB © 2000, 2002, 2005, 2007 phpBB Group