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Post by sleepingdragon on May 7, 2017 16:00:53 GMT
Leofric: Leofric narrowed his eyes at this sheer appearance of magic. He told the others, "I am going to try and sense the magic to see if there is anything we need to be careful of on that hill and around us. Hopefully, they won't sense my magic." He gestured and muttered his spell of sensing magics. You whisper to Leofric: the first taste upon his tongue was akin to something thick and mouldy, nearly enough to make him gag. This flavour had scents as well, those of creatures he recognised - elves and orcs. This was certainly the spell that drove the creatures away and prevented them from entering Wyrdstow. Leofric searched for something this magic would be anchored to - otherwise the elves would simply have dispelled it - and yet strangely he found nothing. he did taste one flavour from upon the hill itself that he recognised, like a draught of cool liquid drunk to cleanse the palate. This was a spell resistance dweomer, though not of Conclave tradition.
From the bridge he sensed a very large number of spells of unfamiliar tradition - elven fetishes, with flavours that burned upon his tongue. Curiously, these were not only near the bridge, but he sensed another, smaller set of such spells from within the ravine which the hole Edmund had found led to. Clearly taken this path would not be entirely free of danger, though it was clear there were far fewer of the creatures there - perhaps half a dozen, instead of forty or fifty at the bridge. sd: the first taste upon his tongue was akin to something thick and mouldy, nearly enough to make him gag. This flavour had scents as well, those of creatures he recognised - elves and orcs. This was certainly the spell that drove the creatures away and prevented them from entering Wyrdstow. Leofric searched for something this magic would be anchored to - otherwise the elves would simply have dispelled it - and yet strangely he found nothing. he did taste one flavour from upon the hill itself that he recognised, like a draught of cool liquid drunk to cleanse the palate. This was a spell resistance dweomer, though not of Conclave tradition.
From the bridge he sensed a very large number of spells of unfamiliar tradition - elven fetishes, with flavours that burned upon his tongue. Curiously, these were not only near the bridge, but he sensed another, smaller set of such spells from within the ravine which the hole Edmund had found led to. Clearly taken this path would not be entirely free of danger, though it was clear there were far fewer of the creatures there - perhaps half a dozen, instead of forty or fifty at the bridge. Edmund is disconnected. Edmund has connected. sd: "We'll want to be careful if there's some of the things down there too," said Erlene. "We don't normally have to deal with elves, the Elders keep them away." Edmund: "We have met with Elves before," Edmund assured her. "They are strange beings." Hogar: "We once made a...sort of truce with them, actually."added Hogar "Not that I think it will help us here." sd: "They're more amenable than dragonspawn, but probably not today," said Erlene. "Should I take point?" Edmund: Edmund nodded his agreement. Beomund: "Very well," said Beomund. "Be careful - not that you need the warning." sd: before entering, Erlene cast a number of spells, including one to greatly increase the speed of the party's movements sd: Erlene crept ahead and lowered a rope down into a dirty hole. Clambering down, the group found themselves in a small, dirty passage, a little earthen corridor beneath the forest floor, too small to stand upright in. In misery, they bent low and crawled forward on hands and knees along the dirty ground, the musky scent of damp vegetation filling their nostrils.
the pathway was illuminated by light filtering through the forest roof and down through holes at either end of the passage. They crawled towards the light, and when they came nearer the space over their heads opened up enough to allow them to rise up enough to at least crouch. Erlene went ahead slightly, to where the sunlight streamed down through another hole. This one was covered over with leaves, and it would not have been apparent to any observer that there was anything there at all. Erlene grabbed at dead tree roots buried within the earth and clambered up about thirty feet to where the leaf cover was, then stuck her head through. After a moment, she looked away and climbed back down. "There's seven elves there, up on ledges overlooking the ravine," she said. "There's a sort of earthen bank ahead which we'll need to climb over, maybe twenty feet high, curling round the foot of the hill. In the section right ahead of us the elves have their demons there, five of them. They're shadowy and insubstantial, gave me a fright for a moment...if we're all able to, we might want to climb up for a moment and let ourselves take a look at them for a moment before we attack."
You whisper to Leofric: now that he was nearer, he was able to concentrate upon the fetishes the elves carried and seek to determine their powers. There were two that he sensed which had a taste of some indeterminate, spicy meat - after a time he realised this was snakeflesh, and the fetish was likely one to allow control over such a creature. there was another taste which was thick and strong, with a gritty texture. Two had flavours that were quite similar, but with differing aftertastes, suggesting they were opposed effects - both had the flavour of blood and sinew. Finally, there was a last one that was like sucking the poison from a wound, burning on his tongue. Leofric 2: Leofric narrowed his eyes, quickly glancing over these elves and demons. "Here is what I sensed on these elves themselves. There are five demons controlled by these elves. All got dweomers that helps them to skewer us more forcefully and to increase their damages. Two got ability to inject posions with their attacks, to reduce our strength to inflict damages and they had spell to improve their armour against our weapons. Finally, two elves got the ability to control giant Snakes. Tough Elves!" sd: Leofric narrowed his eyes, quickly glancing over these elves and demons. "Here is what I sensed on these elves themselves. There are five demons controlled by these elves. All got dweomers that helps them to skewer us more forcefully and to increase their damages. Two got ability to inject posions with their attacks, to reduce our strength to inflict damages and they had spell to improve their armour against our weapons. Finally, two elves got the ability to control giant Snakes. Tough Elves!" sd: "I didn't see any giant snake..." Erlene said hesitantly. Leofric: Leofric considered this for a moment, eyeing Erlene, "I had a good reason to believe that it is a fetish that it helps them to control gaint snakes but it may mean there is no gaint snakes in the area." Leofric: He added afterward with comfort, "If you haven't seen any then we should be fine." Hogar: "As long as they don't sneak on us while we're fighting the elves..."said Hogar Leofric: Leofric made sure that his shield are fitted securely on his left arm, with his Shifting Blade and the remaining three Javelins even more securely. In his right hand, is the Javelin, powered by Hogar's spell Hogar: Hogar cast on himself the same spell he had cast on Leofric and readied two throwing hatchets, obviously intent on hurling them with deadly force with the advantage of surprise Edmund: Edmund readied one of his arrows, potent with fire. sd: Erlene had left several ropes and grappling hooks dangling down. She clambered up first, with the others close behind her. Though their movements were expert and quiet, when Hogar, Beomund and Leofric came up one of the elves whipped its head around suddenly. There was a burst of some strange fragrance and the other plant-creatures turned to face them. At the same time, their bound demons also turned towards them, dark, shadowy forms with gleaming eyes that filled them with terror. They had blades of pure shade that extended from their arms, parts of their very being rather than blades of iron. The elves had arrows and swords which were crafted of a pale, eerie red crystalline material. To even look upon that unnatural metal made their hearts quail. Leofric: Leofric's eyes merely return the glares from the demons with contempt as he lifted his Javelin ready to strike. sd: two of the elves, who appeared to be their leaders, clutched at strange fetishes like a cage of stone and bone. They crumbled in their hands, and the elves vine-like flesh seemed to grow tougher, as though additional strands were coiling round them sd: the other elves also called upon the powers of their fetishes, and their coiled sinews grew more powerful as they reached for arrows Leofric: Leofric gritted his teeth as he is painfully aware how magic can be used against them as a immense force multiplier. Beomund: Beomund hesitated, the sudden terror inflicted by the demons keeping him from moving to attack. sd: Erlene, having already seen the demons, was not shaken by their approach. She raised a flaming arrow and sent it flying towards an elven warchief, however the elf easily dodged aside. The arrow went streaking past and landed in a pile of leaves at the foot of a tree, setting them aflame. Edmund: Edmund felt the dread power of the demons and the fetishes of the elves. Unable to bring his bow to bear on them he put it aside and drew out the flute. You whisper to Hogar: as he climbed up out of the hole, Hogar noticed a form among the grass off ahead of them, and to the party's right. Though it was very large, the great snake's body blended well with the foliage and undergrowth as it slithered silently towards them. Hogar: Though a seasoned warrior, Hogar still hesitated facing the fearsome demons. Yet his attention was also caught by something else, and he found the strength to shout a warning to the others "Snake!" as he pointed with one of his hatchets to the right sd: the great creature was slithering beneath the leaves, moving slowly towards them, it's great body concealed among the undergrowth Leofric: Leofric swore with a glance of apologise at Erlene and he then threw the magical javelin at one of the demon. To his surprise and no doubt to the demon's surprise, the javelin struck the demon in its leg and tore it into the pieces. The demon itself is out of the fight. He grinned triumphant as he then focused on his Will, trying to deal with the rest of the demons, with with hopefully a smiliar ease. He protected himself even more securely with his shield as he drew on his power Hogar: Hogar also quickly spoke a word of power conjuring forth some darkness that, though barely, covered two of the elves who were threatening them with bows, thus giving the party some respite however brief Leofric: Leofric strolled backward, trusting in Beomund and Hogar's ability to defend themsleves sufficently against the demon hordes. sd: one of the elvish warchiefs quickly dispelled the darkness, while the other cast a curse at Hogar for his trouble. The Bloodied Eye felt a malign force grip him and he felt the strength begin to sag out of him, however he marshalled his will and fought back, driving the damaging spirit out of his body sd: the other elves all pulled out new fetishes. These, they realised, were crafted of arrows, all bent in specific locations to form a cage. They crushed these in their hands and with that, began to draw arrows which were whole to fit to their bowstrings sd: the demons meanwhile sprinted forward and were almost immediately upon them, blades of darkness glistening like thundering skies sd: Erlene began to ready another magical arrow Beomund: Beomund retrieved his shield to defend against the oncoming tide of demons, while holding his great hammer in his other hand for when he would recover enough from his fear to wield it. Edmund: Edmund took a deep breath and began to play. The sound rose, loud and clear and resilient, a raised fist against the darkness and danger surrounding them, filling the hearts of his comrades with hope. Leofric: Leofric with his spare hand starts gesturing along with the chanting against the four remaining demons to take them away from this grey plane. sd: one of the warchiefs used a fetish which dripped a green liquid as it was crushed in its palm, while the second cursed Erlene. She was not as strong-willed as Hogar, and could not resist the dire effects of the curse sd: the three nearest demons all reached the melee, swinging their shade blades in wild arcs. Two targetted Beomund, who easily sidestepped the attacks, interposing his shield and flinging the creatures back and off-balance. Hogar had been expecting to throw hatchets and not enter into melee this soon, but nonetheless he rolled under the attack aimed at him and smashed the demon in its gleaming eye with the butt of a hatchet Edmund: Edmund put away his flute and swung his bow round from his shoulder. Leofric: In spite of increasing bad odds, he focused his attention on trying to banish these demons. If he fails, then he would take up the sword and attempt to banish them by pure metal instead. Hogar: Still on the defensive, Hogar shifted his gaze all around, obviously looking for other hidden breasts that might suddenly strike from the grass Hogar: edit: hidden beasts sd: one of the elf warchiefs began to load its bow, while a second crushed a fetish, sending out green liquid to smoke upon the ground. As it did, however, its command over the nature spirit within it failed for a brief instant - suddenly the elf slumped forward, the vines that made up its chest turning brown and beginning to smoke. Its face contorted, though it made no sound. sd: Erlene sent another fiery arrow flying up towards one of the elven chiefs. This one was loading its own bow and didn't have the time to pull aside - the arrow struck it right in the throat and sent it falling back to the forest floor, gushing sap, flames spreading all over its body. Leofric: Leofric unleashed his Will against these demon with a firm alien word. One by one, these terrible demons faded away, their shrieking fading away. Beomund and Hogar who was clearly under pressures by these demons suddenly found themsleves no longer having to defend themslves. Leofric only grinned louder as he reaches for his Shifting Blade, ready to take the battles against these wonderous Elves. You whisper to Hogar: looking ahead, he saw another huge snake, suddenly bursting into rapid movement as the demons were banished by Leofric's spell You whisper to Leofric: looking ahead, he saw another huge snake, suddenly bursting into rapid movement as the demons were banished by his spell Leofric: Leofric altered the others, "There is another snake ahead!" He singalled Hogar: "There!" shouted Hogar pointing to somewhere in the grass, not far from where he had previously conjured his wall of darkness. sd: the elves fired a barrage of arrows. One struck Leofric's shield, and two flew wide while Edmund and Erlene both had to dodge one arrow each. As the shafts flew, they blurred in the air, enhanced by some spell, but whatever the effect was they never learned Edmund: Edmund nocked an arrow and looked for a target. Leofric: Leofric drew his Shifting Blade and banged it against the shield and stroleld toward it, clearly ready for the fight, sd: Erlene loaded her bow and fired the last of the arrows Beomund had enchanted up towards one of the elves, striking it clean in the chest sd: the creature toppled over, twitching Edmund: Edmund fixed his eyes on the other Elven warchief, then let the arrow fly. It plunged deep into the creature's chest, and it twisted and fell to the ground, dead. Leofric: Leofric eyed the different heights and found it quite hard to perform the move between them. As he strolled toward the snake, he muttered a spell to grants himself the power of flight to move against their enemies with ease. Hogar: Hogar tossed his hatchet at the gigantic snake charging him, Leofric and Beomund, the enchanted weapon tearing a bloody gash in the middle of the creature's body Leofric: He judged the gaint snake before him and carefully ditched his shield and as he held his Shifting Blade in two, its grew larger and larger, ready to be plunged into the snake sd: the great snake lashed out at Leofric with its huge tail. The scribe ducked and raised his shield overhead, deflecting the tail enough to roll past it unhurt sd: edit: raised his sword overhead Edmund: Edmund quickly looked about for another enemy, finding the closest bow-wielding Elf and firing at it. Again the arrow leaped from his bow, streaking to its target trailing fire, and again it struck hard into the monster's chest, and it fell. Leofric: Leofric followed up with his own attack, targeting the wounded imposed by Hogar. He slammed into it, wounding it heavily that the gaint snake kneed over. He, Beomund and Hogar managed to rolls away successfully. Leofric stood up and aimed at the other gaint snake with his Greatsword, ready to do the same thing. Hogar: Nimbly leaping away from the huge form of the crumpling snake, Hogar hurled his remaining hatchet at the other snake burying it deep within its skull and slaying it instantly. Leofric: Leofric eyed Hogar with a kind of amused annoyance over the amazing slaying of a gaint snake with a single blow. sd: one of the remaining elves had had its bowstring snap, while the other two were ready to fire. Edmund and Erlene both dodged easily, however, and soon returned fire with much greater accuracy. With the chieftains and snakes gone, it was only a short time before the creatures fell. "Hogar, use your hatchet on that, quick, before it's spotted!" Erlene cried, pointing to where her very first shot had gone awry. Flames were now spreading from the pile of leaves it had landed in and licking the base of a nearby tree Hogar: Hogar quickly took the Darkling Hatchet from his belt - he had not hurled the weapon, for he preferred to keep it close to him at all times - and called forth its magic to extinguish the flames. Leofric: Leofric relaxed ever so slightly and drew another swig of the magical poition. Frowning at the taste as ever Beomund: "Well done," said Beomund, having barely exerted himself during the fight as his companions made such quick work of the enemy. "Now let's get where the elves can't follow us." sd: the ravine continued on, climbing now and again, and curling around the base of the hill. they continued on. above them the bridge grew larger and nearer, a long, perilous stone span fifty feet across. It was so narrow only a single person could cross at once, and there was no rail of any kind - the Changers who had built Wyrdstow had clearly not believed in making it easy for any foe - or friend - who might try to access their sanctum. There were a great number of elves milling about at the end of the bridge, unable to enter due to the enchantment laid upon the place.
as they came nearer and were virtually beneath the stone bridge, they noticed a hollow indent in the side of the hill, shielded by a large stone, all but invisible unless one was right on top of it. sd: as they came near, Erlene stopped suddenly and noticed amongst the mud that there was a leather backpack, obscured from view by a pile of ferns. She reached out and picked up the pack, which had fallen open and over long years had had water leak into it. "There's some kind of book here," she said, "but I don't know if anything will still be legible, there's water that's leaked in." Edmund, who had strode up alongside Erlene, found something else - an old pile of bones, which appeared to be human. Edmund: Edmund crouched down to examine the find. Leofric: Leofric moved closer, "Book! Let me have a look at the book. I do have some expertism on books." He said warmly. sd: Erlene handed Leofric the pack. "Just keep your voice down, there are several score worth of elves up there," she said, gesturing towards the bridge Hogar: While Leofric went for the Book, Hogar bent down to examine the bones sd: Hogar examined the bones carefully while Leofric thumbed through the sodden pages. After first determining that the skeleton was that of a male perhaps five and a half feet tall, he began to examine it for signs of damage. The man had taken an arrow wound to its left leg, there were scrape marks on its fingers suggestive of sudden violent force, and the killing blow had not come from any weapon, but rather a great fall that had crushed his chest, smashing it to pieces and killing him instantly. Glancing up at the bridge he put it together quickly - the man must have been shot and sent pitching over the side of the span. He would have reached out and grabbed hold of the stone, trying to pull himself up, but failed and fallen to his death. Given the relative location of the skeleton to the pack, Hogar furthermore thought it unlikely the pack belonged to him - perhaps some compatriot had reached out desperately for his hand as he fell, and had it slip from their back in their desperate, futile haste. sd: most of the entries within the journal were useless, but Leofric found a few that still had readable fragments. The final, partial entry of the journal read:
...June, 221st Virian Year. While he was out gathering food and wood, Beornred noticed...some kind of warhorse...even if not hostile they'll stir up the elves...tomorrow I'll go out with him and try to find them...told her that if she wants to go home she can do it on her own... sd: leafing through the pages, Leofric found four other passages which were intelligible. the second from the end read:
...long argument. We can't go back to Felcotte! Why should we let the Elders keep this from us just because we're not from the royal line? Whatever is behind that door...sensed a powerful magic in the central hall, where the fountain...we can get through this... sd: whereas the very first was:
...Elders said...had belonged to the Forerunners hundreds of years ago...was fighting against the Alanians. Their high priestess grew so...make a pact with a demon prince to...the invaders. When her tribe found out they put her to torment and executed her, but...several times, but she wouldn't stay dead until they finally managed to kill the demon itself...made alliance with the Empire...exchange for their help in destroying the demon...no record of the tribe or this incident in the Alanian records, but only from the Gaston bards... sd: and finally there were two more:
...221st Virian Year. Today we cleared the lower halls. There are no bodies anywhere - our people didn't starve to death as we thought. Beornred is paranoid about traps but we've found nothing so far. We're gathering everything written down into the library above for further study... sd: and:,
...behind the wall. The door is made of solid stone and is extremely thick - Burwenna struck it with her hammer and the shaft actually cracked! You'd need mining tools to get through. There's a powerful spell on the door so we can't bypass it that way. There's a....message reading...'the royal blood'...thinks we should return...not yet! The Elders will send someone else and keep me away...wanted to bring 'balance' to our group with someone to stop us from actually doing anything! Never mind that Change is about imbalance... Leofric: Leofric raised his eyebrow with interest, "Very intresting," sd: dates should read 223rd Virian Year, not 221st You whisper to Edmund: several things struck him as Leofric read the text. It was clear from the dates that this journal had been kept by the same group of Changers Cenfus had guided here. In addition, the mention of arguments, in which it was clear the writer was able to have the final say, suggested they had a leadership position - most likely this had been the journal of Aeschild, the brash young woman Cenfus said had hired him. The corpse they had found was most likely that of Beorned, as the final entry mentioned that he and Aeschild - if this was her journal - were going to go out and seek the warhorses he had found.
in addition, he realised, the fact that Beornred and Aeschild had felt able to take the bridge suggested that it was not normal that elves would keep such a close watch on it as they were now. If this were the case, then it most likely meant that someone else had recently tried to access Wyrdstow and aroused their ire... You whisper to Edmund: it also seemed that Aeschild and company had been there a number of months - the final journal entry had been taken in June, while Cenfus had mentioned guiding them in the early spring Edmund: "It's likely that this journal was kept by the Changers led here by Cenfus," Edmund said thoughtfully. "Probably by Aeschild herself, and the bones would be Beorned's. They must have been here some months, from the dates." He frowed as he read further. "It seems the bridge wasn't as guarded then - someone else must have come here and stirred up the Elves." Leofric: Leofric frowned for a moment, "Maybe these knights? Or worse." sd: "That doesn't explain why they're still guarding the foot of the bridge seven years later," said Erlene, "unless someone's been along lately as well. What is this about royal blood? God, if I could give mine away I'd have done it as soon as I were old enough. If Saegif were of a different line that bastard would never have got his hands on her." Beomund: "It sounds like that blood might be our means through the door," said Beomund. "And therefore our means to beat Aethelwulf to it." sd: Erlene winced. "Then I suppose. We're fucked if my father was right you know. Let's go, it's time to find out if the blood of the Prophet really can lead to the birth of a freak." Erlene shifted her pack on her shoulders and made for the hollow
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Post by sleepingdragon on May 13, 2017 15:46:19 GMT
sd: "We're fucked if my father was right you know. Let's go, it's time to find out if the blood of the Prophet really can lead to the birth of a freak." Erlene shifted her pack on her shoulders and made for the hollow.
They found themselves in a cramped, uneven crevice between the rocks. Squeezing in, they formed a single file, with Beomund and Leofric particularly finding the space deeply constraining. As soon as they moved away from the hollow opening they began to sweat, oppressive heat rising to blast them in the face. They could sense from the angle of the stones beneath their feet that the passage led down, but little light filtered through here and Erlene paused until someone retrieved a light. Beomund: Beomund looked close to responding to Erlene's use of "freak", but seeing her determination he kept quiet, and focused on the grueling descent. Edmund: "I wonder what is causing the heat," Edmund muttered, frowning. Leofric: Leofric seeing that they need light, muttered few work and waved a hand, suddenly an eerie light appears, lightening up the area with spectral glow. sd: once the light had appeared, they could see that the passage sloped sharply downwards into the darkness, and Erlene began to walk forward, one hand on the wall to keep her balance. As they continued down, the stifling heat grew worse. The passage turned in places, and it took about five minutes of winding around under the hill before they turned a bend and saw, about fifteen feet ahead of them, the passage suddenly opened up into a wide cavern, and they were relieved to feel cool air come out and land on their faces. Within, the cavern was dominated by a large pool, with only a single narrow, slippery stony escarpment that curled round the south side of the cavern. At the edge of their light, on the far end of the cavern, they could see a small rocky alcove, which lay by a waterfall which spilled down from above to form the pool. sd: Erlene began to step into the cavern, then suddenly she stopped with a hiss as if she had touched hot iron. Her foot hovered in the air, just over top a strange, sculpted ball of stone and mud, about the size of an eyeball, that lay hidden underfoot among the uneven stones. Its shape was maintained by several narrow strips of animal bone wound round it. "Some elf fetish," she said, stepping back. Leofric: "Hmm, let see if we can disable it..." Leofric came closer to help. sd: Erlene allowed Leofric to squeeze past her, and he knelt down, with Hogar behind him offering advice. Leofric was able to gently pry the bones away, then he curled one around and used it like a stylus to carve a rune of nullifcation into the fetish. The fetish crumbled as soon as its magic vanished, and Leofric saw a small quantity of sticky liquid gush out - human blood. He felt a brief presence of a retreating spirit that was hastily gone - Leofric guessed that the fetish, had Erlene stepped on it, would have collapsed the passage behind them, and caused stones to rain down from the cavern's roof. With this handled, however, they could cross in safety. Hogar: "This magic is worrying, but at least it doesn't involve demons."commented Hogar in passing Beomund: "We'd best keep an eye out for more mundane traps as well," said Beomund, eying the walls of the cavern warily for irregularities. Leofric: Nodding with great wariness, "We should be on guard then" Leofric pointed out almost needlessly. Edmund: Edmund agreed. sd: they continued on. the ground was slippery underfoot and Leofric came near to falling into the pool at one point, but they were able to continue on without incident and found themselves by the waterfall. Alongside the waterfall was a rough wall with uneven stones which they thought they could use as handholds to climb up, though it was most likely safest for just one of them to do so and leave a rope for the others. sd: Hogar clambered up. When he had got to about twenty-five feet his hand slipped and he nearly came down, but he was able to reach out and grab hold of another stone, then pull himself up, at a cost of nothing more than a few scrapes. Hogar lowered a rope and the others followed. They were in a new cavern, with another pool, this one much deeper and larger, with greater space around it on which to walk. Erlene knelt down by the side of the pool, squinting, and pointed down into the water. "There's an opening there," she said, and indeed, about twenty feet underwater, along the north wall, there was a gap in the stone which was large enough to allow passage. Hogar: Hogar looked down in the water, at the gap. "I'm a fair enough swimmer, think you could make it?"he asked the others Edmund: Edmund looked down into the dark water. "I hope so." Leofric: Leofric pointed out that he can cast a spell that allows them to breath.... Leofric: EDIT: Leofric pointed out that he can cast a spell that allows them to hold breath for ten mins or so sd: Erlene took her armour off and then pulled out a rope. "I'll swim through, once I'm on dry land I'll pull my armour along. You can then repeat for your own gear," she said. Leofric: Leofric asked her, "Want some help with holding a breath?" He smiled slightly Leofric: He starts stripping off his armours once he casted the spell on himself. Hogar: Hogar did likewise, making a bundle of his mail, shield and other heavy equipment so that he could pull it later. Leofric: Leofric casted the spell of holding breath for inhuman amount of time on Edmund and Beomund as well sd: Erlene swam with expert ease, arrowing down through the gap and then hauling herself up onto a dry perch of rock. She pulled her light studded leather armour along through the water, then patted it dry with a cloth while she waited for the others to swim across. She was on a narrow perch, at the foot of another ledge. There was a faint hint of natural light above, filtering down through the stone. Leofric: He splashed into the pool as he haven't have much experience in diving and dragged his rope of armours and somehow managed to get lost for a second before reappearing at the foot. Beomund: Beomund found himself enjoying the underwater experience, aided by Leofric's spell, and he slowly but surely made his way to the ledge. Hogar: Hogar swam skillfully, quickly reaching the end of the passage. The warrior had obviously practiced this skill fairly often since first setting foot in Palania, perhaps worried by the prospect of a watery death after what had happened on the voyage which had brought him there. Edmund: Edmund hesitated for a moment, then stepped down into the water, moving awkwardly forward. He was not a natural swimmer. sd: Edmund, Beomund and Leofric were able to make their way across with the spell the scribe had cast, and after putting their armour back on, Hogar climbed up the ledge and let a rope down for the others to follow. They made their way up another narrow, winding path, and soon found themselves on open ground, sheltered by a copse of trees. They were on the large hillock upon which the ruins of Wyrdstow lay. About two hundred paces to their right they could see the long, narrow bridge, and they made sure to keep low - the elves might not be able to cross onto the hillock, but their arrows certainly could. The fortress itself was in the opposite direction. In the century since the fortress fell, the hillock had become choked with trees and vegetation, and they could only faintly discern the entrance upon the fortress' southern face. Leofric: Leofric shivered in the wet armour, hating the experience. He looked closely at the entrance, looking for any traps Beomund: "I wish I could see this place at it's height," murmured Beomund. sd: "My distant cousin might give you that wish if someone would clear the plants squatting at the entrance," said Erlene, jerking a thumb in the direction of the elves. "But first, let's make sure there's nothing here for Aethelwulf to plunder if he does come." She kept low and began to move towards the entrance. Leofric: Leofric narrowed his eyes for a moment, "Who know, maybe there is a spell that can show appearance of what once was." He his lips for a moment, "We Seers do want to gain mastery over the past and the future." He winked for a moment at Beomund, Beomund: Beomund smiled at Erlene and Leofric's responses, and followed Erlene forward. Hogar: "The ability to see in the past could be as useful as seeing in the future, sometimes."commented Hogar "Perhaps you will gain it, someday. For now, we will have to do with looking for clues and trying to put the pieces back together." sd: as they came near they saw the fortress had suffered some damage, though it was virtually impossible to see through the thick vegetation choking the building. The orcs who had besieged Wyrdstow had been barred from entering by the repulsion spell, but this had not stopped them from launching boulders at it. The upper floors were mostly destroyed, however they were able to push through the double doors and enter into a narrow foyer. There was a wooden door in the north wall, which had warped slightly in a century of damp and rain, as well as one set of steps leading to the shattered upper floors, and another leading down. Leofric: Leofric looked at the choice before them and said, "The Wyrd is certainly will be underground along with the spell that nullfy magic. Still, it might be worth checking the upper floors to see if there is any remains." Leofric: Leofric grimanced for a moment and also said, "Nevertheless, I will sense magic again, considering we are closer now." He starts casting his mystic spell You whisper to Leofric: he recast his spell, detecting the same magic before - the magical resistance was below them, certainly. Now that he was nearer, he sensed another effect as well, one which he had not noticed before, because it was an effect that he guessed was no longer there. It had a taste of old ash in his mouth - he guessed some powerful magic had once been present, on the floor on which they now stood, but that it had been stubbed out like a bright ember dropped into the ocean. Leofric: Leofric nodded for a moment, "The spell to resist magic is clearly below us. However, there used to be a powerful spell present here but it no longers active. Still, it must be a powerful one for its embers to lingers." Leofric: EDIT: but it was dispelled Beomund: "The Tainted Ones removed it, most likely," said Beomund. "They've made our work easier, it seems." Hogar: "Hopefully they did not think to leave some other sort of trap as a replacement, thinking others might investigate the place" sd: they pushed their way through the door and found themselves in a long corridor. All along the western side of the passage were small storage rooms, while the eastern wall had but one door, some forty feet along, carved with the Prophet's Star. Still further ahead was a broad archway which led into a wide hall - this, Leofric thought, was where he sensed the residue of old magic that was now gone. sd: Erlene opened the door to one of the storage rooms, but other than a few broken crates and half-rotted sacks there was nothing there. She repeated this with the other storage rooms, and all were equally bare. Beomund: Beomund moved to examine the door carved with the Prophet's Star. Leofric: Leofric went onward, toward the wide hall to see what was in there? Edmund: Edmund walked forward to also look at the door. Hogar: Hogar cast wary glances all around as he moved beside the others sd: the door swung open to reveal an old library. Old debris was shoved up against the far wall, and to Leofric's dismay the shelves were utterly bare - indeed, from the scorch marks on the floor in various locations, they guessed that many of the works had been gathered up and burned. You whisper to Beomund: - looking down at the ground as they entered, Beomund noticed a very well concealed pressure plate - the first person to step into the room would be plunged down below into a pit Edmund: Edmund examined the burn marks, to work out how long ago they had been made. Leofric: Leofric's eyes was saddened for a moment, "Damn these people who burn priceless books." Beomund: Beomund held up a hand to stop the others as they were about to enter. "Wait. There's a pressure plate here, activating a pit." He knelt down in front of the plate to see if he would be able to disable it. sd: Edmund knelt down with Beomund, and together they worked to jam the mechanism. It was extremely difficult, and once Edmund jammed his skeleton key in too eagerly and nearly set it off, but fortunately he was able to ease it out without disaster. After a few anxious minutes, they were able to disarm the trap. Beomund had had long enough by now to know that this had been made more recently than the fortress itself, and had doubtlessly not been here when the library was actually used as such. Hogar: "They are consistent in their hypocrisy, I suppose - they use magic yet despise it and want to prevent others learning it." said Hogar commenting on the burning of the books Leofric: Leofric muttered, "Set up by the Tainted Ones no doubt." Leofric: He added afterward, "I wonder what else they set up below." Leofric wonders Edmund: Edmund looked carefully to see if it was safe to move forward into the room. sd: they examined the piles of ash, in which there were some scraps of parchment. they guessed these ashes were the same age as the sodden diary they had found below on the hillside Leofric: Leofric glanced around, clearly disappointed yet hopeful, "Maybe they hid more precious documents away from the Tainted Ones, one hope." sd: with the library explored, they headed back out into the main corridor, then passed through the archway into a large hall. From the battered remnants of long tables along the east and west walls, they guessed this had been the central hall of the keep. At the centre of the chamber was a marble fountain, now gone dry, and over this was an enormous chandelier, nearly thirty feet long, hanging from the ceiling about twenty feet overhead. Looking up at it, they could only imagine how it would have looked all lit up. There were holes for firepits in the walls, and doors on the east, south, and north walls - the southern door was open and revealed an old kitchen. You whisper to Edmund: as he walked forward, he noticed there was another pressure plate hidden on the way towards the fountain - this, he guessed, would bring the chandelier down atop of them. You whisper to Beomund: as he walked forward, he noticed there was another pressure plate hidden on the way towards the fountain - this, he guessed, would bring the chandelier down atop of them. You whisper to Leofric: the fountain was clearly the source of the dispelled magic, though he was unsure what kind of magic it had been, even at this close range Edmund: "There's another trap here, between us and the fountain," Edmund said, holding up his hand to stop them moving forward. "It looks like it will drop the chandelier on whoever sets it off!" Leofric: Leofric pointed at the fountain, "The source of that dispelled magic I sensed came from the fountain." He slowly approached the fountain but came to a sudden stop. "Clearly they don't want anyone to root around here." He said so in an annoued tone. sd: "I hope we haven't come all this way just so we could comb through an empty ruin," said Erlene. "Though I suppose that there's that door her diary mentioned that is open to the royal blood. If I get to prove my father wrong I suppose it will be worth it." sd: examining the fountain, they found very slight residues. Erlene was able to get a single drop of liquid and licked at her finger. "It has the taste of one of these," she said, hefting a potion. There were runes carved into the fountain, which indicated an aethyric connection to another, nearby source of power. They noticed some of these runes were slightly scorched, as if someone had sought unsuccessfully to repurpose them. You whisper to Leofric: out of the corner of his eye, Leofric glanced at a dust pile beneath one of the shattered tables and noticed a few fine grains of golden dust in amongst the dirt. moving over to examine them, he bent and swept out a small handful of the stuff. Its shine was beautiful, and immediately it reminded him of the great golden cord he had seen within the Void upon Coelney and in the Camber Hills Leofric: Leofric eyed the fountain, "Fascinating!" He eyed the runes. He glanced at a dust pile. Leofric frowned for a moment, He went over to a dust pile under the table. He managed to find some golden dust among the dusts and shown them to others, "This golden dust reminds me of the great golden cord we seen in the Void," Beomund: "A physical manifestation of that place...!" said Beomund with wonder. "It's certainly worth studying." Edmund: "Should we collect this and take it with us?" Edmund suggested. Beomund: Beomund nodded and began collecting as much of the dust as he could in a pouch. Hogar: "So this was a fountain of magical energy?" said Hogar looking at Edmund. But then his interest was taken by Leofric's words, and his eyes widened. Hogar: edit: Edmund->Erlene sd: there was very little of it altogether, just enough to lightlly cover the smith's palm.
"I think it probably was," Erlene said to Hogar. "Awfully useful, I wish we had one of those in Bexcheap. Some of our people spend all their time brewing these things." Leofric: Leofric nodded slowly, "So it seems... No wonder such a great spell was dispelled. Maybe something we can look at in the furture." He answered Erlene's wish for Bexcheap. Hogar: "If such spells could be restored..."said Hogar "Good mages could do great things with them." Beomund: "Such power is easy to misuse, of course," said Beomund. "But it is fascinating..." Leofric: Leofric nodded as he starts to stroll toward the western door. sd: Erlene quickly examined the kitchen, which contained nothing of interest, before following Leofric through the western door. This led, eventually, to what had been the smithy, a great anvil at the centre of the room - that, at least, had not been destroyed, though it had lain unusued for many years. There were bellows nearby, and a very cold fire pit. There were a small number of adjoining store rooms, in one of which Erlene discovered a ladder leading downstairs. Beomund: "With all that magical energy, they must have been able to create items of great power," said Beomund, looking over the smithy with interest. Leofric: "Might be worth checking the other door before heading downward." Leofric pointed out sd: following Leofric's suggestion, they headed out past the fountain and into a small section of rooms which they guessed had been living quarters. Part of the roof had been smashed through here with a large boulder that had shattered into great pieces, and stepping round these they found themselves in one room which was slightly larger than the others. To their surprise, against the far wall were a number of broken arrows, and then, below this, a crevice that curled down below the earth, much wider and broader than that which they themselves had entered through. By the hole, and trailing along down the crevice, was a trail of dried blood. Edmund: Edmund looked around, keen to see if there were any more traps. Beomund: "We should determine what happened here," said Beomund, looking at the blood. "We might face similar dangers." sd: after checking to make sure there weren't more traps, Erlene strode down, following the trail of blood. The passage continued down into the earth for about forty-five feet, then opened up into a broader, uneven space, though not so large as the caverns they had passed through. This, most likely, linked to another hollow on the northern side of the hill. At the bottom of the passage, there was a bandage, covered in blood, and a shattered arrow with a scrap of bone still stuck to its head. The arrow had a maker's mark indicating it had been crafted in Malagen. Leofric: Leofric nodded, "Clearly, it is increasingly clear that it was the Tainted Ones that attached this place. However, I wonder how they managed to find this place?" Edmund: Edmund examined this. "But who did they attack?" Hogar: Hogar looked with interest at the mark on the arrow "If it's true, then it must have been there - or someone else who had supplies from there. But I have no idea who it must be, and the Tainted Ones are indeed the most likely culprits" Hogar: edit: who they might be sd: coming back up, Erlene glanced up at the hole in the roof. "If this blood were that old, then rain would have come in through there and washed it away over time," she said. "This must be recent." Leofric: Leofric frowned with a hint of concern, "That doesn't sound good to me acutally." Edmund: "They could still be here," Edmund said. Leofric: "And," He frowned, "Maybe that why these elves were drawn here in the first place." sd: "That cloth I found below would suggest whoever got shot by this trap pulled the arrow out and managed to staunch the bleeding, though it must have hurt like a bastard," said Erlene. She glanced at Leofric. "I did wonder why they were encamped at the base of the place, it's not like they don't know they can't get in. Someone's been here recently, if they're not still here like you suggested, Ed." Leofric: Leofric merely took a firmer grip of the Shifting Blade and nodded, "Well, if they are here, they are going to wish they don't want to be by the time we catch them." His eyes merely promised death for anyone who oppose them. Edmund: "We should be prepared," Edmund took the flute from its place and carried it as they prepared to move on. Leofric: He nodded, "I will grant you the abilities to see admist the darkness and to see anything hidden" He gestured at himself and his friends Hogar: Hogar checked his weapons and shield to ensure they were in good order. "We have fought Tainted Ones before, and more than once -and have won. We can do that again, but let us not take unnecessary risks and try to have to advantage of surprise on our side." sd: cautiously, the party headed downstairs. There was a large set of barracks on one side, but these had little in them save a few rusted arrowheads and broken bunks. After exploring another set of empty store rooms, they exited into a large corridor at the end of which was a great wood and iron door, set with the Prophet's Star. sd: the door itself was untrapped and unlocked, so Erlene pushed it open cautiously. They were on a large balcony area, with a spiral set of stairs leading down to another level about twenty feet below. To their immediate right, next to the stairs, was a very thick rounded stone wall that curled around past the stairs. The stairs, they could tell immediately, were trapped - an ill-concealed slit near to the edge of the balcony gleamed metallic, revealing some kind of scything blade which would sweep out at them if they proceeded incautiously. sd: Edmund and Beomund went to disarm the trap. It was plain from its construction that it had been left by the same trapsmith as the ones above, and though they had obviously known their craft, on his second attempt Edmund mastered the mechanism so thoroughly he knew he could now, if he wished, rearm and disarm it again in seconds Edmund: Edmund rearmed the trap, after letting the others know what he was doing, sd: they headed down the stairs, absently noting another small door on the south wall. The smooth, round wall next to the stair curved back around, containing some kind of internal chamber. As they got to the end of the stairs, they saw it was set with a very thick stone door, one with no lock, no handle, no hinges. There was an indentation in the shape of a hand set into the stone, and there was a very small dark hole set into the palm print. Above this was set a Prophet's Star, and words which read simply:
Until the Blood Royal returns. You whisper to Hogar: set into the stone right in front of this formidable door was a pressure plate, and looking across at the southern wall Hogar saw several slits with gleaming iron points behind them. He guessed this was an arrow trap, very similar to the one which they had found in the eastern passage above, already set off You whisper to Leofric: he could sense that the spell nullifcation magic was laid directly upon that formidable door Hogar: Hogar raised his hands to the others, signalling them to stop. "There's a trap on that wall!" he said pointing to the south You whisper to Leofric: indeed, it curled all the way around, affecting the whole of the wall that encircled the area the door protected Edmund: Edmund was looking at the words. "Here is the test," he said softly. At Hogar's words he swung round. Leofric: Leofric also pointed at the door, "The magic that nullify spells is laid directly on the door and on the walls that surrounding the area behind the door," sd: Erlene looked uncomfortable. "Well I suppose I should do this, get rid of that trap though. It's in the way." Leofric: Leofric nodded, "And if for some reason, that doesn't work which I hope is not the case, I will try override the spells." He looked doubtful for a moment sd: "Of course it will work!" Erlene threw Leofric an angry look. Leofric: Leofric, "Of course" He agreed with Erlene. Edmund: "Indeed it will," Edmund said firmly. Hogar: "We'll stand ready to help if things seem to go poorly."said Hogar Edmund: Edmund glared at Hogar. "You will be fine." he said to Erlene. sd: Edmund and Beomund were able to disable the trap with practised ease, and then Erlene moved forward. Stung by Leofric's words, she stamped purposefully towards the door and stoutly thrust her hand forward.
For a moment, nothing happened, then she gave a scream of pain as something metallic thrust out and scraped along her palm. As it came out, just past the edge of the spell of magical nullifcation, Leofric suddenly sensed the enchantment on the little knife - a bypass effect, which allowed it to thrust through the magical protection Beomund had laid upon her. The knife jabbed into Erlene's palm and held her fast to the door for a moment. Erlene wriggled and writhed against the door, trying to break free, but could do nothing for about thirty seconds until the knife suddenly yanked back out of her flesh. Her hand was a mess of blood and she looked quite pale, but the blood was filling the intendation and then draining away. As Erlene fell onto the floor, they heard a deep, reverberating noise, and the door shifted, almost imperceptibly.
"And fuck you too, father," Erlene said, standing shakily and squeezing blood from her palm. Edmund: "Can you help her?" Edmund asked Hogar. Hogar: Even before Edmund asked, Hogar was moving towards Erlene and taking his medical supplies from his bag to stop her from bleeding further. Leofric: Leofric moved closer to Erlene with concern in his eyes, "Well done" He said softly. Beomund: "The blood of the Prophet, and the courage of him too," said Beomund, nodding to Erlene before turning back to the door. Leofric: He turned his attention on the door as well, frowned at the door, looking at it closerly sd: "There's a crack there," Erlene pointed with the hand that wasn't in a bandage. "I think you can just slide it open." Hogar: "We'll do that, don't exert yourself"said Hogar putting the bandages he hadn't used back in his backpack as he prepared to open the door with the others. Leofric: Leofric helped to move the door out of the way with his firm strength sd: the door slid open, revealing a compact round chamber with a high ceiling and a lurid blue floor. They vaguely noted chests and boxes at various places in the room, but they cared nothing for these. The moment they slid the door open, they could suddenly feel the pulsating energy directly before them, setting their hairs on end, setting their blood aflame. There were four great runestones within the room, each as tall as the Bexcheap stone, in very close formation. Between these stones was a great marble well, a well that descended eternally, for its descent was onto other planes of reality. Wild ribbons of aethyric power danced amongst the stones, flowing up and out of the Well in patterns of erratic beauty. The runes upon the standing stones lit up like constellations in time with the phantasms that leapt within the Well. When they had recovered from their daze long enough to step forward, they heard murmurs as of human voices in the chamber, but impossibly far away. You whisper to Leofric: its power was immense, as great as the other Wyrds he had encountered. To come upon one so suddenly and abruptly close set his mind reeling and for a moment he thought he would be sick, but Leofric was made of strong stuff and he quickly mastered himself Edmund: Edmund gazed, spellbound, at the sight. After a few moments he shook himself and spoke softly. "If there are others here we should take steps to be unseen." Leofric: Leofric glanced at the others, "The power is as great as the other Wyrds we seen in the past. No wonder why there is such a powerful spell hiding it from my sense." He shook his head, Hogar: "It is not the first time we see something like this, yet it's always amazing, isn't it?"said Hogar Beomund: Beomund listened to the voices around them. "Perhaps those who chose to merge with it..." Beomund: After a while of basking in the feeling of the well's presence, Beomund moved up to the runestones, casting his gaze across the markings. Leofric: He also approached closer and eyed the boxes and chests. "It might be worth looking through these boxes before we attempt to do omething with the Well." Hogar: "it seems...bizarre to keep valuables here. Perhaps they wanted what's inside to absorb absorb magical energy? Be careful with them." sd: "If they'd not kept them here the Tainted Ones would have stolen or burned them," Erlene said. Beomund: Beomund reluctantly turned away from the runestones to help look through the containers. sd: the principal contents of the containers were various texts, most of which were written in Old Gaston - treatises upon magical theories, theological works, several tomes about dragons, one about demons. There was, strangely, a pair of finely stitched leather boots, untouched by age, in one box - Leofric could tell these were magical, though sensing its exact properties while standing next to the Well was entirely impossible. There was a fine silver crown and silver sceptre, five strange crystals which radiated magical energy, and finally two ornate silver urns. These were inlaid with the names Aloc and Wychleth in fine silver lettering. Within the urns were great mounds of exquisite golden dust, enough in each to fill both hands with more left over. Leofric: "Very interesting." Leofric eyed the magical items. Hogar: Hogar looked at the dust "Could this be what's left of their mortal forms after they merged with the Wyrd? Its call is strong..." Edmund: "It seems they are protected here," Edmund said, as they examined the items. "I think Hogar is right about the dust." Beomund: "They must have been prepared for it, to have the urns ready. Perhaps a ritual," said Beomund. Leofric: Leofric eyed the Runestones, "It may be possble that they are powering the spells that protect this fortress. Should or if we decide to seal it in one form or another, it seems likely that the elves will be able to come over the bridge," He wondered Edmund: "A hard choice," Edmund murmured. Beomund: "It must be done, to keep it from Aethelwulf," replied Beomund, though he sounded reluctant. sd: "If we seal it, there'll be no harm in the elves coming over the bridge - well, other than them possibly killing us. But it's what we came for," said Erlene. Leofric: Leofric nodded firmly, "I am ready to help." He looked ready to touch the Runestones and match whatever is there against his Will. sd: Erlene, still somewhat pale from blood loss, stood ready to help. Hogar: Hogar seemed slightly hesitant, but then decided to imitate Leofric's and preparefor contact with the runestones sd: they leaned in to touch the stones. The instant that Erlene's fingers brushed the stone, there was a flicker and they saw, in a brief instant, a tall man standing behind her. He wore the silver crown they had found within the chest, and a sad smile flashed across his face. Then in a blink he was gone, and the energy of the Well began to flow into them. sd: the room filled with wild energy as the party poured their arcane might into the stones, seeking to gain control over that immense flow, to direct it and shape it. Edmund, who could shape magic in the manner taught to him by the Changers, was able to particularly shape the flow of the Wyrd, but the most powerful will, as ever, was Leofric's. For a brief moment it appeared the energies would completely escape their control, and phantasmal shapes of people began to coalesce in the room. At edge of their mind's eye they could see the Void, and the great Cord shining and calling to them. then the scribe cast, funnelling the power of the Ring of Secrets through the runestones. Their wild, vivid colours began to dance and shake, and with a ruthless effort Leofric imposed his mind upon them, so they all turned a single copper-gold colour, like his very flesh. The energies began to stabilise, and then new images danced before their eyes. sd: as these images came before them, they could see their clarity, their truth, and they knew within their souls that these were not mere phantasms. They would need to redouble their efforts if they wished it, however as scenes danced before them, they knew suddenly that the wish they had expressed scant minutes before, to view events long past, was upon them.
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Post by sleepingdragon on May 20, 2017 10:29:09 GMT
sd: they felt their souls separate from their bodies, and the great light of the Cord was searing into their eyes. this was not like their other experiences within the Void, however. When they opened their eyes to the great light, rather than seeing it floating above them, they saw other lives, other times and places. They were soldiers and farmers, priestesses and doctors, clerks and travellers, young and old. Here they were alive in the years before the Alanian empire had ever set foot in the lands they arrogantly called Palania after themselves, and in others they lived in the years of fear when the great dragon Caragaur brought the land and its people to the brink of doom. Many were in Wyrdstow itself, both before and after the present fortress had been raised. Here there was a great fountain flowing with magical energy, there it was a ruin, or it had not yet been built. At times the Well was under the open sky, or in a great hall, and in others it was the small, round chamber which their bodies now inhabited.
Though these images were but flashes, passing sensations soon dissipating into the Void, there were also in places particularly powerful images which flowed before them. If they were to concentrate their Wills, they thought, they could see more, know more, to experience the lives of others and gain a glimpse into history more profound than any historian's page or bard's tale. sd: Erlene, tired from the blood which the door had taken from her, simply endured, but the rest pushed through and were flung into a woman's mind. sd: It was a loveless coupling, but love had nothing to do with this. Nor was it coupling for lust – even had the warrior not told her so explicitly, she would have known from the look in his eye that he would have preferred to spend his seed in another man. Ipokash would have rather found release in the warm curves of a woman, but the World-Spirit did not care for love or lust. So the priestess ground herself hard upon him, one hand caressing his muscular chest, and the other pressed against the runestone.
This was her twelfth time before this stone, to match the other three. She had known forty-eight men in forty-eight weeks, of whom only two or three perhaps might have had any interest in the intimate charms of women. These men needed only to know that their parts would continue to function, and that among the Companions they would find plentiful opportunities to put them to use, amongst others of a similar bent. Three days ago she’d sent him to see those who she’d lain with already, so he could know directly that the rite had not affected them.
Shinriki's eyes were shut now and perhaps he was thinking of that, because suddenly she felt him building towards his climax. The priestess grabbed the runestone with both hands and began to chant, and the runes began to glow orange-red. Her spell reached its crescendo at the same time as him.
As he spent himself, Ipokash released her spell, and the Companion gave a loud scream as she drew out his fire. It seared down through the length of him. The seed she could feel within herself now would not quicken into a child, nor would any he spent ever again. But in the destruction of this mundane procreative capacity lay a greater power.
The runes turned milk-white for a moment, then blurred back to red. She had felt the power of the stone each time she had done this, but this time was different. She could feel the other three stones resonating, pulsing, throbbing like the length between her legs. Forty-eight men had sufficed, and though none had left her with child, she had birthed something else instead. sd: from this vision of the creation of the Well they sped forward, into the mind of another priestess of the Ancients... sd: The high priestess stood by the Well and tried not to weep. Fumbling awkwardly with what remained of her fingers, she picked up the clay jar and sought to pour it into the dancing energies of the Well. The stubs of her fingers shook and the jar slid from her grasp, shattering upon the floor. The offering of lamb's blood spread before her feet, which had barely the strength to keep her upright since her ordeals.
Shitona put a hand on her shoulder and tried to soothe her, but now the tears were hot upon her face and she gave him an angry shove with the wreckage of her left hand. "Leave me," she said sharply. Her tongue, at least, her captors had left her. "Go, tell them I failed. I'm sure that bitch will be well pleased with your report!"
Shitona hesitated for a moment. For the moment, at least, Horpecha was still the High Priestess, and though he was certainly under orders to keep her monitored at all times, as long as she still held her office her command could have him put to death. Shitona bowed stiffly and strode away, his footsteps echoing down the long corridor.
Horpecha fell to her ragged knees, pain and memory stabbing through her. How long would it be before she was removed? Weeks, days? Hours? The Alanians had left her alive, and though she had persuaded them they would face a dire curse if they violated her, no threats had spared her from the hook, the barb, the knife. Always knives, more than she could have known existed, to strip away flesh, bone and pride.
She was beginning to shake as the memories returned to her, so she forced herself to focus on the one point of anger she could muster that had nothing to do with her captors. Opere. That vile woman will not have my place! A significant part of her suspected that it had been her who had informed the Alanians of her travels, which had been secret and known only to a few of the highest priestesses and Companions. And by the whispers she had heard, Opere had been the most highly positioned voice that had spoken against the risk of the mission that had rescued her, at the cost of a hundred lives.
The stumps of her fingers ran along the nearest runestone and despair filled her. After having seen her, there was no way the tribe would permit her to remain as high priestess any longer. The Alanians had not killed her, but they had taken all her strength away, and left a ruin.
Impotent rage filled her. She would not bow before Opere! Even if she could stand the woman, she was not the one to protect their people from the Alanians. Horpecha had now seen the fullness of their deceit and evil, but after her ordeals she knew no one would pay her any heed. Unless...
She had learned the Alanian letters years before she became high priestess, so she could understand the people who had invaded their land, their strange customs and dark magics. A name came to her mind, the name of a powerful being, one who could deliver the strength she needed, the release from pain.
Horpecha hesitated for only a moment. Dipping her fingers in the spilled blood, she began to trace patterns upon the runestone, chanting in the Alanian tongue. Again and again she spoke a name, one filled with menacing portent, an angry name of harsh consonants like a cleft of jagged rock within the deep mountains. Her body shook, but she spoke it, again and again, until she felt a presence behind her.
"Please," she said, weeping. "Release me. I beg you. Save me." Then the demon was upon her. sd: a third vision came before them, but they were tired now, and they felt the barrier upon it was strong. Only Leofric put forward his Will, and the Erseman smashed through and witnessed more events of the time of the Forerunners and the Alanians... sd: With a victorious cry, Shiratekka was upon her. The one he loved was dying behind him, but he could afford him no time - Horpecha was swaying before him and he knew there was no way she could avoid his blade.
He put it straight through her heart, and he felt tears on his eyes as he thrust straight through her. He had known this woman before the darkness took her, and what he did today was a duty, not a pleasure.
The shattered priestess slid from his blade, blood gurgling through her tormented lips. He wanted to go to Itakshir's side, but he could not leave the priestess until he was sure. "Goodbye, my friend," he said to her, and swung down through her neck.
With one powerful blow he severed her head, and then he ran to Itakshir. His body was a mass of burns, his fair face scalded away. Shiratekka wept and pulled him close, but Itakshir let out a cry of agony at his touch and sorrowfully Shiratekka let him down. There was a glazed look in his love's eye and he knew he would be gone soon. In a shocking instant, however, clarity came back into them, and he raised a burned hand.
"THERE!"
Shiratekka was too slow to turn. Towering over them was a dark and terrible form. With one long, dark appendage it held the shattered priestess over its shoulder, while with another it shot out and caught Shiratekka by the throat. He heard Itakshir's cry, then there was a loud snap and nothing more.
As Shiratekka's vision passed, a new scene came to them, years later, of another Companion, Apniainu, standing over the slain priestess, but again the dark form arose. Apniainu was prepared and lived, but the demon drove him away, and taking the broken body it fled.
So she returned years later, with a great horde determined to seize the Well. With no other recourse, the High Priestess sent the Companions on a dangerous and treasonous mission - to the Alanians. Deep and abiding though their hatred for the invaders was, they were at least human. They saw Apniainu shake hands with a man, General Kuno, who some part of them recognised as the man who had put Horpecha to torment. They saw their forces in battle against the great demon army, and the great charge of the Companions that thrust through to where the shattered priestess. As Apniainu severed the head from Horpecha again, the High Priestess behind him began to chant the words the Alanians had taught her, and with a powerful surge of aethyr, the demon was thrust at last from this plane.
Before even a month had passed, General Kuno's words of friendship and alliance had turned to dust. Their own losses had been heaviest in the battles against the demon, and with the Companions shattered the Alanians decided to eliminate their tribe before they could recover their strength. The tribe were determined to fight to the last man, but the High Priestess' orders were different. Come what may, she would not allow the Alanians to have the Well. They saw Apniainu by her side, as their people stood beneath the great vaulted roof, entranced, until they burned away to golden dust which they flung into the Well. Finally only the High Priestess remained, and as her life force burned away, she wove a mighty seal that would endure for centuries. sd: here the memories suddenly leapt forward by many centuries, to the time of the dragon, and they found themselves in the mind of a man. As they acclimatised themselves, they realised this individual was the very man they had seen, hovering in spectral form behind Leofric, a tall figure who wore a silver crown and a sad smile. sd: Sweat poured from Scenwulf's brow as he hurled his Will against the force that was keeping them at bay. His limbs burned with exertion and he longed to give in. Remember who you are, the words of the Elders reverberated in his ears to give him strength. If you fail, we all fail. We need you, blood of the Prophet.
The greatest of the Elders, the wisest woman he had ever known, was at his side. Had the years not already leached the colour from her hair, today would have. Without Wychleth and her craft they never could have found the power that had lain here, apparently hidden by Forerunner magic, for hundreds of years. Her considerable Will was straining against the barrier. Behind her was Aloc. All of Palania knew the name of swift Cuto, who had shot out the eye of the dragon. It seemed monstrously unfair to Scenwulf that almost none knew of brave Aloc, who had wounded the dragon with his sword, who had felt the fire of Caragaur searing mere inches from his face and lived to tell the tale, but that was the fate that befell a secret people.
Finally, slowly, they felt the barrier began to weaken, like a great and heavy gate that at last was thrown open by the weight of a great ram. The resistance to their Wills dissipated like a morning mist and the three fell to their knees, panting with exhaustion.
"We need to do it now," said Wychleth, the eldest and frailest of them rising first. "The barrier will regenerate if we don't act immediately."
Scenwulf was the last to rise. He was very tall, but his back was bowed now, and he didn't know if he had the strength to do what came next. We need you, blood of the Prophet. He made himself move forward down the long, echoing corridor.
At the end, they came to the runestones, and Wychleth was already beginning to put her Will into them. There were four runestones and only three of them, but what mattered here was the strength of their souls, not strength of numbers. Between the runestones there danced a dazzling array of colours, arcs of wild aethyric energy, radiant and beautiful. Aloc took a few moments to look at this, but Wychleth gave a sharp word, and he bounded along on his magical boots and laid hands on another stone. Scenwulf followed, slowly, and shut his eyes.
An eternal second passed. The light that shone upon him was like the fires at the end of days, and it took him a lifetime to force his eyes open and behold what lay around him. His soul beheld the great cord of gold and his heart stopped.
Every part of him desired desperately to allow himself to drift upwards into that impossible light. We need you, blood of the Prophet. Scenwulf forced himself to look away and to follow after the specks of multicoloured light he knew were Wychleth and Aloc.
They floated down towards the strange knots of power which he knew were the runestones, and Wychleth went amongst them. Individual strands of potentiality shimmered around the stones, and Wychleth began to unpick them. It took great efforts of Will to distinguish between those strands which were responsible for the barrier, and they knew that if they disentangled the wrong ones, then the entire knots might unwind in an explosion of power. Without Wychleth's arcane lore, they would have surely been lost.
As she unwound, Aloc and Scenwulf rewove. They cast the spells the Elders had taught them, which would drive away any orc or elf that would try to come upon this place. There were dragonspawn too they would need to contend with, but they had no spell to repel these beasts, which were of the hundred and forty-fourth. Steel would need to suffice for them.
At last, exhausted, the work was done, and Scenwulf began to relax in satisfaction. He gazed up at the great cord again, and he knew his companions were doing the same.
"We should return," said Scenwulf, through speech or thought or however they communicated in this place. "With this as a base, we'll be strong enough to live in the open."
Aloc and Wychleth gave no response, but began to rise upwards. "What are you doing?" Scenwulf cried.
No response came again, but they began to arrow upwards, towards the cord. "No! I need you!"
"You're still young, but we are old," Wychleth's thought came back. "Let us have our reward."
Scenwulf desperately put out his Will to try to stop them. It was of no use, but he strained so hard that he knew that if he pushed any further, he himself would be drawn ineluctably towards the light. "Please, let us go," said Aloc.
With a cry, Scenwulf flung himself backwards and was torn from the Void. Days later, when he returned to consciousness, famished and exhausted, he saw his companions were gone, reduced to golden dust. He wept bitterly and gathered what remained of them in two pouches until a more suitable vessel could be found, but he allowed himself to be comforted with the thought that they had gone of their own wills, at a time of their own choosing, and a secret part of him wished he had been at liberty to choose the same fate. We need you, blood of the Prophet. It would be hard to continue on without them, but he knew that this feeling would pass. He would remember them, and grow as accustomed to the thought that they were dead as he had to the thought they were alive. It was difficult change for his mind to grasp, but in the end, Change was the Way. sd: they were shunted out of Scenwulf, but only for a brief moment, for another memory that belonged to him came before them sd: He had returned perhaps a hundred times in the years since Aloc and Wychleth left him, but every time he beheld the Cord he knew something more of why they had chosen to be drawn into it. His soul always longed for release within it, but he was still needed.
He flew along near to the corona of lights, and put out his mind. Each time he came here, as he read more and more, he came a little closer to understanding. Now it was virtually impossible, from the instant he arrived, to not perceive the great form of the mountain, and the Star of many colours above it.
He allowed himself to be drawn towards it, and to let his Will glide along the tendrils of possibility that had been pulled into definitive form there. Little strands ran off from the mountain, virtually invisible, but they cascaded out through the Void and into the hundred and forty-fourth. When Scenwulf touched them with his Will, he could feel himself weakening.
He had checked the journals of the old mages which Wychleth had gathered hundreds of times, and their message was clear. The sorcerers of ancient Palania had felt the mightiest surge of aethyr on the same day that the Star appeared in the sky, and ever since this day their power had dwindled. In the days of old they had had been able to recover their strengths with the mere passage of time, and such items as the potions which the Changers had brewed in their hundreds until Scenwulf had channelled the power of the Well into the fountain had been needed only for emergencies. His ancestor had laid a dampening upon the power of magic, felt all around the world, and Scenwulf knew in his marrow that it was only here in the Void that it could be unmade.
A score of times Scenwulf had poured his being into attempts to unravel the knots of power upon the mountain, but this had all the potency of a eunuch in the bedchamber. He doubted if even the concentrated Wills of every mage that lived could ever hope to unmake through sheer force the dampening that was centred upon Mount Maragar.
Another possibility had occurred to him, and more and more he was certain this would be the way to proceed. While it was not within him to simply unmake what the Prophet had done, it might perhaps be possible to unravel a few skeins of power, a little gap, enough to allow him to move his soul to the site of the mountain. There, perhaps, the power the Prophet had summoned could be diverted.
For several aeons it seemed he assayed to do this, but the events of recent days had taken too much from him and he knew he would need to return to the grey world and the burden of his crown. Though the orcs could not enter Wyrdstow itself, they had gathered in great numbers at the eastern boundary. So Scenwulf thrust himself from the Void, and returned to his tasks. sd: a final memory of Scenwulf's came into view, and this one they found simple to push towards sd: The pain of his failures was far greater than the wounds the orcish king had inflicted. Those would have healed with time, had Scenwulf had time left to him, which he knew he did not.
In those days, as his people turned their prayers towards him, begging the Lord God that King Scenwulf would show the strength and wisdom to save them, he had begun to feel the power of their faith within the Void. It was only a dim power, but as yet he had done little save to be crowned to be worthy of such faith.
In time, he had thought, if he were to perform some feat of strength that might prove his worthiness, the power of their belief would grow. The Prophet, after all, had slain a dragon before the eyes of thousands, bringing them all to the Virian Way with his display of power. In those days, the prayers of all the Gastons of Maseda had turned upon him, and Scenwulf guessed that this must have aided his ancestor in his travails upon Mount Maragar. Scenwulf had hoped for some similar display to show his people that he would truly be their saviour. The Prophet had killed a dragon, Aloc had struck one with his sword and lived, but Scenwulf in his imperfections had been nearly struck down by a single orc, even if one grown to incredible power.
He had failed, and he knew he would never have another chance. Too many of his people had been lost already, and the best of his fighters had perished cutting him out. They had been besieged in Wyrdstow for nearly a year, and though the orcs could not storm the fortress, they didn't need to. They simply needed to wait until their food was gone, and now it was.
Perhaps the orcs thought that they would sell themselves into slavery, thinking that better than death, but the Changers of Wyrdstow had another way to escape. Already, hundreds had gone below and into the Well. For his failures, Scenwulf had placed a doom upon himself, that he would be the very last. The scroll in his numb fingers revealed the way. He had already caused a strong chamber and powerful door to be built around the Well, and with the force of his Will, he would erect a new barrier, one without the weaknesses that the hasty shield of the Forerunners had had. Only those who shared his blood would pass, until the world ended. If he could accomplish this, at least, then when he went into the Spirit of God he could face Aloc and Wychleth and tell them he had not wholly failed. sd: following Scenwulf's passing there was another jump of time, this one shorter, and as they shunted forward they found themselves in the mind of a woman - if not a girl. These memories felt particularly strange - they were both nearer in time, but more particularly they realised they were not formed from one who had gone into the Well, but rather one who had a connection to it, or had tried to create one at least... sd: “We can’t open the door,” Burwenna said, pacing back and forth. She was accustomed to patting the haft of her hammer when she mused and she did so now, somewhat self-consciously, as though the shaft which her spells had put back together might suddenly split apart. “All we need is someone of the Blessed Sister’s line and the door will open. We should go back to Felcotte.”
“Go back?” Aeschild cried. She hated that her voice sounded so girlish and young, but she couldn’t help that. She put a foot on the marbled fountain and leaned forward. “Why, so the Elders can get someone else to find the Well and they can keep it hidden from us? The door is just protected by a spell for God’s sake, and any spell can be countered.”
“You tried that already,” Beornred pointed out.
“I can try again!” Aeschild snapped. “It’s not like my energies will run low with this here,” she gestured at the liquid within the water. It was golden like honey, but as she looked upon it a rainbow of colours seemed to reflect from within. “There are hundreds of books and scrolls we’ve had no time to read. And you said yourself, Beornred, someone was following us on the way here. As long as we’re here and can set up defensively, they can’t take it from us, and we have time to try as many times as we’d like. If we leave, the Elders might send someone back here to find they’ve occupied the place. Besides, don’t you want to know what this Well is?”
The others were nodding their agreement. Aeschild wished the Elders had allowed her to pick her entire group, and not insisted on sending Burwenna and Beornred along to endlessly undercut her and second guess her decisions, but she’d been so startled at their agreement to allow the expedition in the first place that she hadn’t wanted to argue the point, lest they reconsider.
“I already know what this Well is, it’s something we can’t get to,” Beornred replied.
“It’s something we can’t get to yet,” Aeschild corrected him irritably. “The power within this fountain is somehow connected to the Well, I’d be able to tell that from the runes even if I hadn’t cast a spell to check. All we need to do is modify this connection somehow. If we gather the books in the library and I spend a few weeks there, I’m sure I’ll find the way.”
“Changing a spell this powerful could throw it out of balance,” said Burwenna, pacing, “and that could kill us all.”
“If you’re so afraid of change and imbalance, Burwenna, then you can go and see the Elders and explain to them why the Blessed Sister’s teachings were wrong,” Aeschild said acidly. She planted her feet firmly. “We're the people of Change and Imbalance. Besides, we’ve only just got here. The Elders sent you to keep guard on me, didn’t they? Well I’m not going anywhere, so you can either go home on your own or you can stay and wait. We can always leave if things go wrong.”
Burwenna sighed. “Fine. For now, Aeschild, but if we’re here too long then we will go back to the Elders, even if I have to drag you out by the hair.”
Aeschild said nothing. She was better with blade and spell than Burwenna, and what’s more both of them knew it. If letting her get away with an idle threat was what the smith needed to be able to climb down before a girl fifteen years her junior without losing face, however, she could live with that. Soon she would have access to the Well, and all their people would care about soon was that she, Aeschild, had accomplished it. sd: some days or weeks passed before they were behind Aeschild's eyes again... sd: “You fucking idiot!” Burwenna screamed. Her hammer was in her hands and she looked like she was trying to persuade herself not to swing it. “By God, how can someone so intelligent be so stupid! Isn’t it enough that you’ve got Beornred killed?”
Aeschild’s face was hot with wrath. “The elves killed Beornred, not me!”
“It was their arrows and your lead!” Burwenna retorted.
“By the Prophet’s name, be quiet you ranting harpy!” Aeschild snapped, stepping nearer to the smith and jabbing an angry finger in her face. “You think I wanted him dead? I nearly died trying to pull him up from the bridge! And when he suggested going out scouting you supported him! So don’t you dare to chide me!”
Aeschild could tell her words had stung, because Burwenna had also stepped forward, and almost without knowing what she was doing she started to raise her hammer. With one lightning fast motion, Aeschild lashed out with a kick that struck Burwenna hard across the forearm. The smith swore and stumbled back. She managed to keep hold of her hammer with one hand, though it dragged along the ground and pulled her badly off balance.
She might have done something stupid, but Aethelwine had stepped in the way and Burwenna was hardly going to attack through her sister’s son. “Beornred is dead, Aeschild,” she said, voice hard. “This isn’t a game. The elves are now stirred up and if what you heard is true then these knights are looking for us. We should go back to Felcotte now, before more of us die.”
“No!” Aeschild spat. “You know there’s another way!” Aeschild picked up the scroll written in King Scenwulf’s powerful, bold hand. “If you and Beornred had listened to me we’d have done this weeks ago.”
“It was too dangerous then and it’s even more so now!” Burwenna snapped back. “You thought it would need all of us then, and that’s hardly possible now that Beornred is gone. We should get help from the Elders.”
“How do you intend to outrun Gastonlander warhorses and elven arrows? Our guide is dead, can we even find the way out of the maze?” Aeschild said scornfully. “While we’re here, the elves can’t reach us and they’ll keep the knights away. If the Well is as powerful as all the scrolls say it is, then I can probably work out how to channel it to send the Elders a message, but we can’t count on reaching them by foot.” The idea of facing the Elders with Beornred gone filled Aeschild with loathing and dread. If she had nothing to show for it, would they ever allow her out of their sight again?
“We get to them with stealth and secrecy, that’s how we’ve always survived,” said Burwenna. Her shoulders sagged. “Look. Whatever we do, we need to do it now. Our food is running low and our hunter is gone now. We need to decide, right away – do we go back to Felcotte, or do we try this ritual?”
There was silence for a long time. Aeschild unrolled the scroll and began to examine it intently, as if to indicate that the answer was foregone and obvious. Forthred and Ermenred stepped behind her, as she knew they would, but Aethelwine hesitated.
“This decision should be unanimous,” Burwenna said. “If we’re going to risk the ritual, we need all of us acting as one. Aethelwine?”
Clearly Burwenna expected her nephew would follow her lead, and then with a division of two against three she could try to frustrate what Aeschild had decided on. Instead, Aethelwine spoke very slowly.
“We…we can’t go back now,” he said, and took a step towards Aeschild. “Aunt Burwenna, you’re right. We need to do this now, together.”
Burwenna gave her defecting nephew a hard stare. The look that passed across her face made clear she was considering defying them anyhow, whatever she had said.
“If we run now,” said Aethelwine, “then what did Beornred die for?”
Burwenna swallowed hard. “If that’s your decision, then I suppose I need to help. But if this fails, we leave, straight away.”
Aeschild nodded, but her mind was already focussed on the ritual. She would not fail, and they would not be returning to Felcotte until she had something she could show to the Elders that would justify Beornred’s blood. sd: As the five of them poured all their hearts and Will into the fountain, Aeschild felt her soul begin to separate from her body.
Had they been able to walk, she thought, they would have gone downstairs to find their magic had loosed the shield enough to allow them to simply push open the door to the Well, but that loosening would last only so long as they continued to pour their power into the fountain. A river of sweat was pouring from Forthred's brow, Aethelwine was panting, and even Burwenna was pale and wan. Only Aeschild still had much strength to her.
"I'll be bringing you with me," she said to them, "but I'll keep you covered. I'll need to borrow your strength if I'm to do this."
She spoke as much for her own benefit as anyone else's - even Burwenna did not gainsay her here. It was clear she was the only one whose Will was equal to the task. Aeschild closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She counted to four, stopped, then restarted at one. Finally, on her third time, she made up her mind and continued the count. "Five."
Aeschild felt the main hall melt away like the mists of a dream, and her soul floated upwards upon a wind of aethyr. All around her were impossible shapes, half-forms, deformities, paradoxes. She pushed her way past these spectral anomalies and towards the light. Behind her four spots of light dragged along behind her like shackles.
She knew she could not let herself look at the light. The light didn't matter. Liar. Though she longed to look at it, she knew she could master herself, and focus on what needed to be done. Idiot.
There were strands of aethyric matter here, groping out from the darkness, and they had been wound into a pattern like a bow around the place where she knew her body was tethered. She touched one of them experimentally, seeking to pull it loose. She managed it, then another.
To pull them loose, it seemed, was simple, but as soon as she took her mind off them she found the tendrils of possibility were automatically flowing back into their previous shape. She closed her eyes, focussed on the four balls that were leashed to her, and fed from their energy, pouring them into the bow. There were four knots, she thought. Appropriate. She unwove the first one, slowly, over the course of an age, then, with her mind still upon the strands, she called the ball of light she somehow knew corresponded to Forthred to her palm. She placed it down, then wove the strands of matter round it, so they could not seek their old shape.
Twice more she repeated the process, channelling Ermenred and Aethelwine's power into them when they were finished. She could feel the strands trying to weave themselves back into their old shape, but her companions were stout and would not allow them to, so long as Aeschild continued to give them some of her own, greater, power to amplify them.
The globe that corresponded to Burwenna was in her hand, which had begun to go slick with sweat. She could feel her energy flagging, but she kept reaching out to the smith and borrowing what she could from her. The smith was used to hammering iron, but as Aeschild exhaustedly untangled another knot, she thought that this was not like that at all. It was like some of the more delicate work Burwenna had expressed regret she'd not been able to do, the careful, intricate work of silver, like the Prophet. Or of gold. Don't think of gold!
She did not. Unfortunately, in that instant, all of Aeschild's being and will focussed itself upon not thinking of that which she knew she did not dare to think of. She felt the strands begin to slide away, and with a cry of rage she tried futilely to reassert her Will. The strands of possibility slid away like the tentacles of an angry sea creature, unwrapping themselves from the globes and beginning to retake their old shape almost immediately.
With a despairing cry Aeschild looked skyward, if there had been a sky in this place. Then she beheld it, and could not look away. The great, golden light.
It was the most impossibly perfect and beautiful thing she had ever seen, would ever see, could ever see. To witness what the Blessed Sister had seen, what the Prophet had seen, the very form of God upon this hundred-and-forty-fourth, filled Aeschild with utter contentment, and she allowed herself to drift and her cares to be gone, for just a moment. DON'T!
Whether it was just a moment in truth, Aeschild would never know, but it was too long. She was not alone here. When she allowed her mind to drift, her Will faltered, and the four globes that had trailed along behind her fell free. Aeschild was suddenly wrenched to panicked consciousness as they ascended towards the golden cord.
"NO, NO!" Aeschild was sure she screamed aloud, if there was sound in this place. She put out her Will and tried to call the globes to her, but to try to interpose her Will before that golden light was like the berserk charge of a flea into the path of a dragon. She tried to fly up, desperately reaching for anyone, anything, and then she felt herself begin to be drawn towards the light. With a final, agonising wrench of Will, Aeschild pulled herself out of the Void.
When she came to, she was in a daze, lying by the seat of the fountain. Her vision was ablur, but from the corner of her sight she faintly beheld Burwenna, before she began to fall away.
The thought jolted Aeschild to useless wakefulness, then she felt her blood begin to curdle within her veins. Forthred was already gone, Aethelwine too. Burwenna was the last to fade, while all that still remained of Ermenred, for a brief instant, were a pair of feet within a pile of golden dust.
Aeschild gave a wail of despair and the bitter tears deluged forth. She somehow managed not to be sick, but her body convulsed like the death agonies of a star. Her skin was ablaze with heat and shame. As she choked back her tears and her guilt, she nearly bit off her tongue, and her own blood went pouring down her throat, intermingling with that of the five she had failed, her friends who had died for her, for her arrogance and stupidity. sd: the specks of golden dust they had found by the fountain made a sudden sense. their minds were burning with agony, but a new vision swam before them, a final vision, and they steeled themselves and tried to push back into Aeschild's mind again... sd: Hunger gnawed her, though not so strong as shame. She had tried to eat only once since it had happened, and she had promptly lost it all the moment her eyes fell for an instant upon a speck of golden dust that had once been one of her friends, before she killed them. Most of it had been gathered up, but Aeschild herself could no more have touched that dust than the sun. Either would burn her away to nothing.
She heard a heavy footstep behind her and she half-turned. They had left her alone for nearly a day, at his orders, but she supposed they would eventually want to speak to her.
He was a short man, balding, thickset and strong. His accent was thick and, for someone of Palania, impossible to place precisely.
"I am Ser Scirheah," he said, courteous, kneeling on one greave. "I won't ask you to speak of what happened here, not yet. I think I know already. I know all too well what comes of placing one's faith in the tainted power."
"There's a woman with you, and she has mail and a sword," Aeschild said, to forestall the man's questions and give herself time to think. "I'm not a Gastonlander but I know you don't let women become knights. Who are you?"
"I am a member of a very ancient Order. Earlier you said your name was Aeschild, correct?"
Aeschild had no memory of saying anything to the man at all, but she supposed she might have told him without knowing what she was doing. She had little memory of anything but shame. "That's my name."
"Aeschild, I would say that I didn't expect to find Virians already in this country, but that would be a lie," said Ser Scirheah. "Later, I will need to ask you more about yourself, but for now I'll say that I am a member of an Order which was founded by the Prophet. Our duty is to protect Virians from the tainted power - do you understand what I mean by this?"
"Yes."
"I can sense that you are a strong shaper of this tainted power, and someday I would like to know more about those who taught you this. Still, if I'm right there will be many more days in which we can talk. I would like to ask you some..."
"Yes," Aeschild interrupted. She caught the knight's gaze immediately. "Yes, I want to join you. I've seen what the tainted power does." What you did. Aeschild squashed the thought like an insect. "I have been the most powerful sorceress of my people since I was seven, and it's brought me nothing but pain and remorse. My people put expectations upon me I could never have fulfilled because I was cursed with this power."
"You're far too young to bear such a heavy burden," Ser Scirheah said, putting a sympathetic hand upon her shoulder. He glanced back behind him temporarily towards the library. The smoke was thick in the air there. "When they have finished their work, we will gather here," he said. "Your attempt to access the...Well? It's damaged the wards here. If we funnel the power of the fountain back down it will be sealed, but otherwise..." he made a fist. "I hate to use the tainted power for such a purpose. But if we don't then the wardings will dissolve altogether, and the elves will gain the power of the Well. That I will not allow."
Scirheah said nothing for a while, and Aeschild did not interrupt him. He wants something, and doesn't know how to ask for it. Aeschild looked him directly in the eye, and to her astonishment the knight looked back towards the library for a moment. One of the knights went past carrying a bundle of books, and Scirheah did not speak until he had gone well out of earshot.
"We should speak more of this later, as I said, but...your people, Aeschild. Where are they? I was told there might be people like you in Palania. Even some of the blood of the Prophet himself."
Aeschild felt her mouth try to form into a line. With an exhausting effort of will she mastered herself and kept a neutral expression. "I come from a village at the foot of the Old Mountains," she lied. The knight had not told his companions all of what he knew, and he was obviously anxious they should not find out. "I'm tired now, but perhaps later, in a few days, after we leave, I can tell you more." Somewhere they would be alone, perhaps, and none might see them, nor what she did to him. Aeschild had failed her friends, and she knew she would never have the heart to go amongst her people again. There was something to what this knight said, she thought, but she misliked the look in his eye, and she swore within herself that she would sooner die than lead this man and his band of killers to her people. sd: with a final gasp they were hurled from the Void, and sat by the Well, shaking and sweating. Erlene had fallen against a wall and had a glazed look in her eye. The Well itself had noticably dimmed, its energy now dancing in sparks instead of great arcs of light. they could feel that the spell that would hold out the elves had been thrown out of alignment and they would soon need to make an effort to restore it, but to try to make themselves do anything before they had at least a few moments to rest was not possible. Leofric: Leofric rubbed his eyes for a moment. His eyes bloodshot from his immense mental strain and eyed the others, "Are you okay?" He asked the others Beomund: Beomund didn't answer, simply pushing himself forward to rest on his kneeds, breathing heavily. Beomund: *edit: knees Edmund: Edmund sat down on the ground, massaging his temples. "I don't want to go through anything like that again, not soon at least". He looked pale yet there was a gleam of something in his eye, as if he had gained as much from the experience as he had lost. Hogar: Hogar was silent and perfectly still for a few long seconds before speaking to speak "I have never been better." Something in the tone of his voice seemed perceptibly different, and they could tell he truly meant it, despite the sweat slowly dripping from his brow, the only apparent sign of the previous exertion. Hogar: edit: before speaking sd: Erlene gave a groan and forced herself up onto her knees. "God only knows who Aethelwulf would have decided to invade next if he'd got here first." Edmund: "God has blessed us in this endeavour," Edmund said with a radiant smile. Leofric: Leofric narrowed his bloodshot eyes, "I feel... more solid." He glanced around at others, "I never thought that we will see the past visions." He said quietly. Hogar: "I might not have wanted to go through this before, had I know how taxing it would be - but I am glad we did it now. Knowledge often has a price, and I feel here it was truly worth it. I hope you will agree." he added looking the others. There was some concern when he gazed upon Erlene, but it quickly went away. Beomund: Beomund looked more troubled than the others. "This well has been a source of much grief already." Edmund: "We have more work to do," Edmund said, but he stayed sitting for the moment. Music had suddenly flooded his mind, the starting of a new epic tale of the Well of Wyrdstow. Hogar: "I will not disagree, Beomund. "he said now sounding concerned about him too. "However learning about the mistakes and tragedies of the past can be the first step to setting things right." he added looking up to Edmund sd: Erlene begged to be allowed to rest for a time before she finally was able to recover from her exertions, and they prepared to right the spells of repulsion. They doubted anyone would be able to drink from the Well as they had for many decades, if ever, but they thought it likely that someone would be able to see at least some of what they had, unless they made an attempt to close it off while its energies were at a low ebb. sd: the rest did Erlene well. She was refocussed, and she and Edmund, weaving magic which the Changers had taught to them directly, were particularly adept in their attempts to rejuvenate the wards which King Scenwulf had laid here. between them, and Leofric's powerful will, they were able to channel the power of the runestones back into the Well, but in a more protective manner, a shield upon the Well. It would take a few days to settle, most likely, but once it had, no one would be able to try what they had for many decades, and the elves would remain barred from Wyrdstow. Leofric: Leofric stepped back and nodded with a tired approval at their teamwork. sd: Erlene had taken a few steps away from the Well, but she paused, swore, and reached for her quiver. "There's someone at the door up there," she hissed, as several of the others in the party heard the same sound. Edmund: Edmund considered for a second, then drew out his flute. Hogar: Hogar swiftly took his bow and arrows and with an effortless gesture and but a word cast the spell he had used several times before to enchant his projectiles, causing magical sparks to start dancing nimbly along his fingertips. Leofric: Leofric nodded at the others, "I will be casting spells to improve your strength and to protect you from magic as well." Leofric: He quickly whispered Leofric: Leofric drew his Shifting Blade and his shield, ready for the battle. sd: with their spells cast hastily, they moved over towards the stairs leading down. The door burst open, and a big man with a two handed sword stepped through. He had a craggy face, and immediately those who had been in the north realised he was a soldier of Aethelwulf's. They had seen him when they had brought the King his crown, though they did not know the man's name. Beside him was a huge, scarred woman with an axe. But these did not draw their eye - it was instead the very large number of guards, fifteen or so, that followed, along with four women of a year or two's difference to Erlene. You whisper to Edmund: there was a moment of panic in his mind, then a smile grew to his lips. Some of the guards moved in just too similar a fashion, and he looked at one of the Changer women and could see her look of concentration. It was a spell he himself could have cast, and he realised that in truth there were no more than five or six guards, rather than the near score they saw before them. sd: "My nephew has sent me with orders to make you surrender," the man with the greatsword called. "I am Oswulf. It's good to meet you again." Edmund: "Don't panic. There are only about five or six guards," Edmund muttered to the others. "Just a spell." Edmund: "Surrender? Why would you want us to do that?" Edmund called out. sd: at Edmund's words, they were able to look up, and see that indeed most of the guards moved at the exact same time, a tell tale sign of illusion. One of the women was the mage responsible, they thought. sd: "The magic of this place belongs rightly to the people of the Prophet, the people of his bloodline!" called Oswulf.
"Like me!" Erlene called back. "Or is Aethelwulf so stupid as to think he's the only one, even after he received our emissary? Frankly, the blood of Wulfric of Barthenfold is pretty cheap these days, I used mine as a key for God's sake." Hogar: Hogar smiled faintly before speaking bold words "You come late. We have already drawn of the Well's power, and are not as we were before. Dying for your lord will do neither him, you, or us any good." Edmund: "I am sure Aethelwulf would not want you to die so pointlessly," Edmund added. sd: Oswulf hesitated. "With these numbers, it's not likely to be me who dies, heroes or not. My nephew is fond of you, but he is willing to see you dead if you try to prevent me from getting to the Well." Edmund: "Those numbers...?" Edmund asked with a slight smile. sd: Oswulf gave a rueful smile. "It was worth a try. You're a bard, you'll appreciate that trickery can prevent unnecessary bloodshed sometimes." He paused, and the illusory bodyguards vanished. "We still have you at two to one, at higher ground. And as for heroes...Alchflede here has had quite a history. The Cult took her husband and her children, all four. They should have taken her too, but she cut free, and took it on herself to hunt down and destroy what they turned her loved ones into so that they could be free. Before Aethelwulf came to the Lost-Lands, she'd been hunting dragonspawn alone on the northern reaches for five years. She doesn't speak much, and she is indifferent to the Way, but..." Leofric: Leofric merely slammed his Shifting Blade against the shield, clearly ready to crave their path, eyeing them with his copper bloodshot eyes. He smiled thinly as his eyes flicked with a mystic glows for a moment, "A nice range of spells you got." He nodded toward the enemy, briefing his party "All of them got dweomers to improve their speed and to resist the magic." He gestured at Oswulf and Alchfelede, "These two have some extra such as improving their co-ordinations and sharpness." He eyed the rest of the group, "Do you think your spell to resist our magic is poweful enough? Good try." Leofric: EDIT: He paused for a moment, "It isn't good enough..." Edmund: "We are the Cleansers of the Plague Fields. We have fought Dragonspawn, and Orcs and Elves, Goblins and many many human foes. God has been with us in all our endeavours. This is your chance to leave, now." Edmund seemed almost to shine with an unearthly light as he spoke. sd: they could tell Oswulf was beginning to falter. "I didn't want to do this. Alchflede, on my word. For Aethelwulf! For the High King!" Edmund: "Wait!" Edmund's voice rang out accross the chamber. "You can gain nothing by fighting. We have news for you! The sword Mage-breaker is smashed into pieces. We have been authorised by the Council of Phalen to offer Aethelwulf one of the shards." sd: a dark look passed across Oswulf's face, and he stepped back as if struck a blow. "You..." He stepped back into the doorway. "Hold the door," he spat angrily to Alchflede. sd: outside, Leofric felt Oswulf begin to cast a spell to enable him to contact another telepathically, presumably Aethelwulf himself. sd: the Changer women prepared magic of their own, in case the party tried to do anything to attack Oswulf or try to frustrate his spell sd: ultimately Oswulf was outside for a minute or two, and then he returned with a sharp order to withdraw. "The King says he will contact you shortly to speak about this offer from the Council." Every word was accentuated with a jab of a mailed finger and a venomous anger. Edmund: Edmund gave a bow. "We will await his message." Leofric: Leofric merely sighed at the lack of the fight and nodded sharply, "No doubt, he made a sensible choice for your lives." He responded lightly, sd: an hour and a half had passed, and the spells they had cast in anticaption of bloodshed had disappeared. Erlene had crept out to be sure Oswulf and his group had left Wyrdstow, and she was just returning when Aethelwulf's voice suddenly spoke into their heads. Erlene alone did not hear it, as she had never met the Changer warlord. "The Church will be very pleased with what you've done," Aethelwulf said acidly. "I'm sure they'll find some way to thank you, probably a sharp one. Why in the name of God are you trying to stop me?" Edmund: Edmund considered carefully what he was going to say, then decided to be honest. The time for pretence was over. "Aethelwulf, we recognise your strength and single-minded purpose, your power to raise an army and to oppose monsters and to challenge the Church. But... such power is dangerous in the hands of one man, especially if that man has a total belief that he is right. With your own powers enhanced by magical regalia, you would exert such control over a person's minds that it left no room for reflection or conscience, or for more than one viewpoint. Isn't this what the Church has been trying to do for so many years?" Edmund: edit * a person's mind sd: "I sent my uncle with a pagan bodyguard to try to stop you, for God's sake!" Aethelwulf snapped. "Would you have chided the Prophet about his methods? Have you not read the Theophany? When he came back to Barthenfold from Mount Maragar, he and his followers fought a battle against the pagans there and forced them all to convert or flee. If the Mage-Breaker had come to me I could have spread across Palania and scores of Ealdormen would have come over to me with no need to fight at all. I would rather fight no one at all, but our people have hidden long enough, and from what I understand from the Tainted Ones I caught, they were already aiming to harm us. Do you think you can keep your hands clean? Mark my words, there can be no peace with the Church unless we force one on them with sword and spell." Edmund: "We will not refuse to fight when needed, and have clashed with the Church and the Tainted Ones ourselves," Edmund spoke back. "But we have forged other links and loyalties, since we came in ignorance to Palania and discovered that the magic which we had been told was abhorent could be used to serve the common good. We are Thegns of Phalen, some of us owe allegiance to the Conclave, or the Brotherhood, or the Bard's College. We are here now as representatives of the Council. The situation is not so simple." sd: "One with many loyalties may as well have none," Aethelwulf replied. "You are good, if very stupid, very frustrating, people, I know it. I hope your mixed allegiances don't get you killed someday. But as representatives of the Council...you can tell Councillor Rypan that his offer was never made. I instead make a demand of you, which you'll carry back - the Council will surrender a shard of Mage-Breaker to me, and in exchange I will speak to Ealdorman Turoc and seek a ceasefire." The offer was, of course, identical to that which Rypan had sent, save that peace was less certain, and more importantly it would serve Aethelwulf well to be seen as one forcing the Council to give something to him against their will. Edmund: Edmund shook his head at Aethelwulf's manipulation of the situation and gave the others a rueful smile. "We will carry back your offer to the Council." sd: "There was another expedition which went to Wyrdstow several years ago," Aethelwulf added, abruptly changing the subject. "Did you find their bodies? It was a great grief for our people when Aeschild was lost." Edmund: "We found the body of one called Beornred. Four others were turned to dust. But it seems that after her failure which led to their deaths, Aeschild went with the Tainted Ones." Edmund was genuinly sorry. sd: "With...the Tainted Ones?" Aethelwulf sounded thunderstruck. "How could she have done that? Aeschild was rash but hardly stupid. What happened?" Hogar: "We have reason to think she would not betray your cause, if that is what you are worried about. She likely tried to mislead them." Edmund: Edmund sighed. "A man called Scirheah found her. She did not trust him but went with him. Maybe she believed there was no place for her after what happened." sd: "How did the others turn to dust? Did they see...Him?" Beomund: "They went toward the Golden Cord," replied Beomund. "Whether one sees Him after that, we can't say." sd: Aethelwulf was silent for a long time. "If Aeschild went off with the Tainted Ones, she may still be alive. I can't thank you for anything else you've done, but this at least is good news. She was a good friend, although we grew apart in the years before she was lost. She was better than me at everything, sword and spell and letters and learning, but she didn't have the Prophet's blood." Edmund: "Her pride led to her downfall and her companions paid the price," Edmund said. "But if we hear news of her at any time we will let you know. " sd: "Thank you, although I'll try to contact her myself. Of course she could be anywhere in the world if she is still alive." Aethelwulf sighed. "There will be war in Palania for many more years because of what you've done. With the Well and the Mage-Breaker I could have...well, there's no use thinking of it. Goodbye." sd: before they could respond, Aethelwulf was gone sd: they rested at the Well for two days, waiting to make sure that the King of Caldstenland did not change his mind and send his uncle back thinking they had left, but he did not, and soon they felt the wards they had laid take effect. Shouldering their packs, they crept out of Wyrdstow by the same way they had come, and traced their way back out through the maze to begin the long road back to Phalen, their beleaguered home.
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Post by sleepingdragon on Jun 3, 2017 15:26:36 GMT
Departing from Wydrstow, they rode west to Waldtun to take ship back to Phalen. On their way, they received another message from Aethelwulf, who had already sent emissaries to Ealdorman Turoc calling for a ceasefire. He had made this offer - he would return the fortress of Sussarford to Ealdorman Turoc's control, but in exchange the ruin of Sarburh would remain in Aethelwulf's control, and his people would be free to settle there. This would mean giving up very little on Turoc's part, as he had not controlled Sarburh to begin with.
Thus far the Ealdorman of Weltry had rejected the offer - he was not eager to have an enemy encamped on his border, and Sarburh, the former capital of this region, would be a potent symbol suggesting Aethelwulf had a right to control the region. To increase the pressure on Turoc, he had sent men to other Ealdormen throughout Tohringland, and he had also sent emissaries to the great lords in Upriver, saying that this settlement would open a trade route from and to the Lost-Lands. Aethelwulf had now shifted to a defensive position, and the odds that Turoc could dislodge him from Sussarford any time soon was exceptionally small.
As the party took ship and headed south, they began to hear news from elsewhere. The war against Suthfryd had seen an indecisive battle near Swithdun, where a Suthfryderi landing party had burned several villages. Though most of the party escaped, some were taken hostage, and from these they learned that the Dragonslayer's attention was presently on his northern frontier, and he would not be launching any major offensive against the Council until the dragonspawn there had been dealt with. As well as dragonspawn themselves, rumours amongst his soldiers had spread, that great, ominous shapes had been spotted in the skies above the Endless Hills...
But the chief news concerned Phalen. The enemy had gathered in great numbers in East Phalen, and it was expected that they would lead a major offensive across the river at any moment. The Undercity was utterly quiet, as the orcs and goblins continued their work of collapsing tunnels. Those citizens who could not be expected to fight were being evacuated to the west - Leofric received a telepathic message from Sigrun saying she would be leaving Phalen temporarily, moving about ten miles west along the coast where her magic could still be of use in coordinating the defence. This effort had been very slow to begin with, until the Soiled Sisters had pooled their resources to purchase a great number of trading vessels. Under their coordination, children, women and the frail were able to flee the coming battle.
The party arrived back in Phalen on 5 September 230, staring hard at the many fires burning on the other bank of the Saltanow. Synne was now heavily pregnant, but refused utterly to be bundled from her home.
Soldiers from every Weapontake which supported the Council had arrived in great numbers, and the Council had them billetted in every home. Some three hundred knights and warriors had recently arrived from Gastony, alongside men-at-arms who had departed from the campaign on the Kalmar Isles to defend the capital. Heorot, the Ealdorman of Bluebrycg, had also arrived in the city, and though he was no military mind, he brought seven hundred warriors with him, and alongside him was the warrior Ealdorman of Wihthrycg, Waldric, with his magic sword which Deogol had enchanted for him.
Councillor Rypan was pleased that the party had passed the Council's message to Aethelwulf, but they would scarcely be able to intervene in Tohringland until the capital was secure. The Council laid a strict order upon the party that as Thegns of the city, they were now forbidden to depart the city save on Council business, until the forces of Palania were victorious or utterly vanquished. They would not need to wait long to learn the answer...
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Post by sleepingdragon on Jun 3, 2017 15:27:04 GMT
sd: it had turned to September, but the oppressive heat and oppressive atmosphere remained. Each day they could see more and more orcs, goblins, cyclopes, and other monsters, as well as unscrupulous human mercenaries from many lands, arriving on the eastern bank. The people of Phalen sweated beneath sun and fear. The crown banners of the Chief were visible all over East Phalen, and humans or orcs capable of Gaston speech would often call across the river, voices enchanted, to proclaim that he had named himself to the dreaded position of High King of Palania. The Council ordered music to be played by the riverside to drown out the enemy, and their preparations continued apace. Beomund: Beomund spent most of his time isolated from others, reflecting on his experiences with the well as he practiced his magical abilities, as well as borrowing one of Hogar's hatchets before purchasing his own to develop his skills with the thrown weapon. Leofric: Upon on his return and prehaps deeply touched by his close encounter of the highest kind, he became withdrawn, clearly focused on inside. He spent a week mediating by the local Runestone, amidst the coming clashes of the storm, carefully restoring his magical energy. Leofric found that his meditation based on the mental techniques taught by Sigrun of the Conclave managed to improve his personall well of power. Leofric: Upon his return from the Runestone, he got in touch with an excellent blacksmith, Leofric: EDIT Upon his return from the Runestone, he got in touch with an excellent blacksmith to arrange for an mail chain armour of better quality to be crafted. He would rather use his peer, Beomund but decided against it due to his already immense workload. Still, the lowly scribe paid the blacksmith first half of the cost, his newly enstrengthen body carefully measured Hogar: Hogar's experience at the well seemed to have left him enlightened but somehow eerily distant from the others - as if the warrior's mind was now more concerned with 'higher' thing than the battles to come which would determine the fate of Phalen. Luckily something or someone made Hogar realize the dangers of his new outlook, and he sought relief in the magic of the soothing horn. After week he roused himself from the lethargy of the horn, closer to his older self and with enough presence of mind to return to mundane activites with even greater focus and alacrity than before. sd: preparations continued at their manor house. Atol was in a foul mood, trying to juggle handling the troops which the Council had billetted there, and his own annoyance at his failure to persuade Synne to leave for safety. Dunstan, too had stayed - it would shame him if he fled while his wife remained behind, and at any rate his alchemical skills could prove useful in a siege. He was very interested in the golden dust which the party had brought back from the Well, and promised to try to make something of it once the city was safe. Maccus had abandoned all hope of continuing to help manage the party's charitable endeavours, and stayed at the manor, helping Synne to manage the household and Atol to manage the troops, though he spoke to the party quietly and said that if they could assist their captain of the guard in preparing the defences of the area it would be greatly appreciated Leofric: Leofric nodded at Maccus' suggestions and would like to help out to make their enemies entering their home area a fatal experience, Hogar: Hogar obviously believed he could put his knowledge of strategy to good use in the defense of their manor and its occupants Edmund: Edmund had made use of their short rest learning another useful spell from the Changers. He spent any spare time he could with Annis, sometimes amusing themselves with music and books, at others practising with bows or blunted weapons. His already positive nature seemed to have become even more so, and he was rarely without a smile. Edmund had already offered his services on behalf of the city as a noise maker, using music or his magically enhanced voice. Edmund is disconnected. Edmund has connected. sd: the party burst into action to protect their home. Hogar laid detailed plans for every contingency, poring over maps and consulting with the local commanders that the Council had appointed, while Atol and Beomund implemented the more minute elements in the immediate area. After assisting with this, Beomund employed his expertise, strengthening fortifications in the area, and working feverishly at the anvil, repairing broken blades, replacing broken mail links, sharpening axe heads, crafting spear points, burnishing shields. Atol remained in the courtyard, drilling soldiers and local conscripted men, showing them how to fight in close formation with one another.
Hogar, once his plans were complete, went amongst those who had already been wounded in early skirmishes, doing all he could to put them back on their feet. Leofric's role was more intellectual - consulting maps, recalling details of historical battles against the orcs to inform their decisions, setting up a chain of command. He also used his magic, scrying on the other side of the river, and using telepathy to keep in close contact with others who were preparing the city's defences.
Finally Edmund went out, accompanied by Synne. Many of the women of the noble clans, unable to fight, had abandoned the city, but the Lady of the Werlings had dismissed such entreaties with contempt, and the presence of a pregnant woman, fearless and girt with a sword, inspired hope amongst the city's defenders. Edmund sang and played his flute, and on the evening of the 14th of September he and Synne gave impassioned speeches before over a thousand men-at-arms, telling tales of great battles in which the forces of humanity had won against tremendous odds - the recapture of the city fifteen years before, the campaign in the Plague Fields, the wars of the great Gaston king Canulf Red-Hand, and many others. Though the heat and fear still bore down on Phalen, a grim determination was also growing. sd: "If she's not going to see sense and get out of here," Atol said quietly to Beomund, "then please use some of your magic on her, before she gets herself killed. I've had to start burning her father's letters, he keeps writing demanding to have her sent away." sd: the party's friends and allies in the city were also not idle. Sigrun, too frail to risk direct combat, had removed to the west where she was coordinating the logistics of the campaign, while Sigrun, Annis, and the Soiled Sisters, having organised the evacuation of the city by those unable to fight, were now preparing raids by sea on the enemy's backlines. Erlene was no use as any kind of commander, but her guile, scouting and woodcraft made her an ideal scout, and within a day of arriving back in the city she had already gone alone, swimming the river to spy on the enemy and returning. Deoneath roamed the Undercity day and night, while Dunstan was busy at work in his laboratory beneath the manor, brewing poisons, preparing poultices. Their rivals and former friends were equally busy. Ser Kennald was one of the senior commanders within the forces of the Church, while Ealdorman Heorot had brought many rare manuscripts from Bluebrycg, from which he gleaned information to share with the Council - though as ever with the deceitful Ealdorman none were sure what his true motives were. Leofric: Leofric frowned on hearing about rare manuscripts bought by Ealdorman Heorot, "I would like to have a look at these manuscripts, purely for academic reason, of course." He pursed his lips, "We should be very careful of anything that poses a threat to us since a city in chaos a good opportunity to get rid of your enemies." Leofric muttered Leofric: EDIT: darkly Hogar: "Heorot is not to be trusted - he will surely do everything in this power to expend as little as possible of his resources while profitting the most, no matter the cost to others." Beomund: In between the speeches, Beomund drew his companions aside, along with Synne, Maccus, Erlene, and Deoneath. "You all have dangerous tasks, or important things to protect." He avoided glancing at Synne's belly. Drawing upon his growing power of enchantment, he wove spells of protection on the eight of them. sd: "Thank you," Deoneath murmured. "There will be a council of war soon," he added. "I will need your voice there, to forestall any foolishness that might come from Ealdorman Heorot or from the Church. The former is insisting that we should focus on a purely defensive campaign, the latter that we should appoint a loyal Virian as overall commander immediately." Leofric: Leofric looked darker for a moment, "We will try to do our best." He concluded Edmund: Edmund sighed. "Why are people more focused on expanding the powers of their own group when they should be joining forces against our common enemy. " sd: they returned home, tired from the day's labours. With the danger that was all around them they slept with their weapons close to hand, and given that they needed to remove their armour, they were very pleased to have Beomund's magic to protect them. They slept uneasily, hoping for a breeze to come in through the windows to relieve them in the heat, but the night was still. sd: several hours after midnight, Beomund needed to relieve himself so he rose, grabbed his hammer out of sheer habit, and walked out of the door into the corridor. They had four rooms there - Hogar and Beomund on one side, and Edmund and Leofric on the other. Leofric's room adjoined the common study at the south end of the hall, while to the north was Synne and Dunstan's room - though tonight, Dunstan was at work in his laboratory and they'd seen Atol enter for the first time since they'd returned from the Forest. There were two guards posted at the door to Synne's waiting room, more beyond, and another by the door to the library.
Beomund went down the corridor and towards the three privies at the end of this wing of the manor. After he'd done his business, he came back out, glancing down at another guardsman who'd also had needs to attend to emerging from another curtain. As he looked, a black bird suddenly flapped down from the sky and landed rather casually on the windowsill. sd: "Oh get out!" the guardsman cried, taking a step towards the bird. As he did, he glanced up, and at the same moment he and Beomund saw several other birds flying hard towards the window. The one that had entered through the sill rose up into the air, beat its wings once, and then its form began to blur and change, black feathers vanishing and becoming green muscles. Beomund: "To arms!" cried Beomund as soon as he noticed something was amiss, readying his hammer. Leofric: Leofric opened his eyes wide awake, woken by the alert. He reached for his beloved Shifting Blade and leapt to his feet. Edmund: Edmund sprang up and grabbed for his flute. Hogar: Hogar quickly awoke, almost as if he had expecting something of the sort and his hand instinctively reached for his weapons Leofric: Leofric opened his eyes wide awake, woken by the alert. He reached for his beloved Shifting Blade and leapt to his feet. sd: the guard nearest the window's eyes widened as he snatched at his shield, the bird turning into a huge, axe-wielding orc before his eyes. There were two more birds winging towards that window. "THE WINDOWS! THEY'RE COMING THROUGH THE WINDOWS!" the guard hollered sd: as this was shouted, two birds flew in through the window in Edmund's room and began to transform. There were two orcs - one large and wielding a two-handed axe, and another smaller and carrying a staff tipped with various feathers. Edmund: Edmund, naked as the day he was born, sprang to the table containing his weapons and grabbed up the black bow. Edmund: "Help needed in here!" he shouted. Leofric: Leofric tend to slept in nude so when an alarm raised, without paying any attention to his own need. He picked up his Shifting Blade and shifted it to a greatsword capable of slaying their enemies. He heard Ed and shouted, "Coming!" Beomund: Seeing that one of the transforming orcs nearby appeared to be a magic-user, Beomund rushed past the closer warchief and swung his hammer. He struck the shaman a heavy blow on the arm, sending it tumbling out of the window with a scream. Hogar: Hogar took the Darkling Axe from his weapons' chest and quickly turned towards the exit, leaving his shield and other weapons in his room sd: the orc shaman smiled at Edmund's discomfiture and began to cast a spell, however in its mirth the orc mangled its words. The arcane energy rebounded upon it, rendering the shaman temporarily stunned sd: the Thegn near Beomund had time to pick up his sword before the first orc swung its huge axe down. The Thegn raised his shield, just in time to block the mighty blow. sd: the other Thegns began to move, several responding rapidly to Edmund's shout. Beomund became aware of the noise of rushing feet and shouting in the chamber directly behind him, and Hogar, picking up the Darkling Axe, looked up to see two birds flying through his window and beginning to transform in mid-air. sd: two thegns opened the door to Edmund's room, but the orc warrior at the window ignored them and moved towards the bard sd: "COME AND TRY ME THEN, YOU COCKLESS GREEN FUCKERS!" they heard Synne's cry. Hogar: Hogar brandishes his axe in two hands as he advanced against his two foes Leofric: Leofric muttered to himself and grestured with his spare hand as he rushed to the door, his Will is summoned and grants him the speed of a swift. Edmund: Edmund drew an arrow, praying under his breath as he faced the massive warrior. Beomund: Beomund spun immediately from felling the shaman to aid the nearby thegn in battling the warchief. The creature turned to defend against him but misjudged the moment of his attack, and the Smith's hammer struck it directly in the skull. The great chief slumped to the floor like a poorly balanced sandbag. Hogar: Stopping his advance suddenly, Hogar held one of his hands out - only a few feet from the orcs - and said a word a power. Lighting sparks flew out from his palm towards the belly of orc warrior right in front of him, sending him down to the ground convulsing Hogar: add: the orc shaman right beside the fallen warrior seemed taken aback for a moment before casting the exact same spell at Hogar. Lightning surged through his staff, threatening to envelop one of the warrior's legs, but Hogar leaped over the magical attack with extraordinary agility and the only effect of the spell was to leave a light scorch mark on the floor. sd: one of the orcs by the window swung at Beomund, smashing past his hammer and slashing across the smith's leg. Leofric: Leofric once again used his Will to give himself great strength with a word as he rushed toward the door sd: as he did, two birds flew in through his window and began to change Hogar: Hogar cast his spell again, this time at the shaman, but this time though the spell struck the orc squarely in the chest the brutish creature withstood the magical assault and was not stunned sd: "WHAT, ONLY FIVE? ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID ENOUGH TO THINK THAT'LL BE ENOUGH!?" Leofric: Leofric narrowed his eyes as he looked at the monsters that flown through the window, his eyes merely looked thirsty for blood and sighed as he made beeline for them. "Two here!" He shouted out Edmund: Edmund fired point blank at the Orc looming before him, seeing in satisfaction the shaft bury itself in the creature's guts. Leofric: Leofric grinned wickedly as he strolled toward them, ready to fight them. Leofric: He whispered the spell of protection beforehand Beomund: Beomund retaliated against the orc that had just slashed him across the leg, but the orc managed to deflect his quick blow. You whisper to Hogar: he cast a quick glance out the window and saw more birds landing in the courtyard, where they were engaged with the soldiers there. Maccus had rushed out with his bow in hand to command the defence there. Hogar: "There's fighting in the courtyard too!"shouted Hogar, having managed a quick glance at the window sd: the orcish shamans began to cast elaborate spells, uttering guttural syllables sd: Beomund was able to get his hammer in the way of a dangerous looking axe swing Edmund: Edmund called upon the power of the Black Bow to reload his bow quickly. Leofric: Leofric made a masterful strike at the bigger Orc monster, causing immense damage with his Shifting Blade with black blood flowing from its grave wound. To his surprise, it wasn't down. Hogar: Hogar leapt at the orc warrior still sprawled on the floor and nearly split his head with a mighty axe blow, leaving the creature barely alive but out of the fight. sd: the shamans cast dark spells. Hogar was struck by one, but it failed to penetrate Beomund's magic. Atol and Synne, meanwhile, had just run to the door, and the guard captain was not so lucky, having no armour at all save a helmet he had hastily pulled on. His arm went numb briefly as dark energy wracked him, but he ignored this and prepared to face the onrushing orcs. Leofric: Other smaller Orc attempted to attack Leofric with a good attack but the skill of Leofric enabled him to swat aside the blow, flicked up the black orc blood into its eye and disarmed it sending its greataxe clattering on the floor on ever widen black flood on the floor sd: two more orcs burst in through Leofric's door, while others continued to join in the fray. In the main bedchamber, Synne, Atol and two guards faced off against four orcs including a great chieftain, coming together in a terrible clash of steel Leofric: Leofric brutally stabbed the Warchief in its head and kicked it out, killing it instantly. He will dispose of the smaller orc before putting his full attention at the other two Orcs. "Pitiful" He muttered. Edmund: While the two thegns tackled the Orc warrior, Edmund fired quickly at the mage, which nearly avoided his shot. The arrow struck but not hard. Hogar: The shaman had been backing away from Hogar, obviously realizing the danger he posed in melee, but the warrior was on him quickly and struck a grevious blow to the head. The shaman however kept on his feet, though blood and brains were now leaking out of his head. sd: Atol aimed a blow at the first orc to enter the fray. The creature deflected with its two-handed axe, but this opened up its defences and Synne struck with the sword that ostensibly belonged to her husband. She struck the orc straight across the face, leaving a deep, bleeding cut. sd: Atol, Synne and the guards had formed a tight formation, forcing the orcs back from their upraised shields and stout swords. The leader of the orcs took one glancing blow as it retreated back to get space sd: two thegns aiding Beomund pressed the advantage. one could not penetrate their foe's armour, but the second struck it a thunderous blow, sweeping its head from its shoulders with one strike of his sword Leofric: Leofric took full advantage of the blinded Orc and took it down with a sharp blow of his blade. He kicked the orc away and glanced over to the other two, "Your turn!" He smiled with no onunce of pity in his eyes Hogar: With a wild swing Hogar tore through the shaman's chest splitting it in two before quickly spinning around towards the door.
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Post by sleepingdragon on Jun 3, 2017 15:27:33 GMT
Edmund: Seeing the Orc Warrior engaged, Edmund turned his attention to the shaman, hitting it squarely in the chest and wounding it badly, although he was disappointed to see it was still standing. He muttered under his breath, praying God to guide his next arrow. Leofric: Leofric glanced at the two orc warriors sprinting towards him, he gestured and mumbled a spell to grant himself even more strength and strolled forward to them with haste. You whisper to Hogar: taking a moment for breath, Hogar glanced out the window. Maccus was rallying the soldiers the Council had billeted with them and was throwing back the attack, but further afield Hogar could see great plumes of smoke rising from the centre of the city itself. Hogar: Hogar quickly chanted a spell to enhance his speed as he glanced out of the window again before moving for the door "The orcs are being driven back from the courtyard, but the city's centre is on fire!" he shouted to the others Beomund: Having dealt with the orcs at the window, Beomund turned with the thegns to face two more approaching orcs, grim resolve on his face. sd: Synne and Atol struck out at the same orc, but it huddled back behind its shield, turning their blows sd: the shaman in Synne's room, meanwhile, began to cast a spell, the same as it had already used to smite Atol with dark power sd: the orcs struck back, with Synne turning one blow. a thegn was struck on the arm, but it failed to penetrate his armour sd: another thegn struck out, trying to damage the orcish leader, but the creature turned the blow and kicked his legs out from under him sd: as the Thegn fell, the war chief struck with wild ferocity. The orc's axe took the falling man straight in the midsection, hacking him nearly in half, intestines splaying out at Dunstan and Synne's door in gruesome welcome Leofric: Leofric slowly covered with tainted black orc bloods almost charged at the two orcs with terrible resolve on his copper face. He targeted the orc with a battleaxe and shield. Despite its successful parry of his blow, the force is as such that its abdomen starts bleeding, its wounded caused by extreme sharpness by Beomound's Will on his Shifting Blade. sd: the shaman in Synne's room, giving a roar of laughter at the fall of one of the thegns, attempted to cast a spell, but his momentary distraction caused it to fail. the one facing Edmund fired shock magic at him, but the bard rolled beneath it and came up with arrow ready sd: two orcs lashed out at Leofric. The scribe let the first blow scrape wide of him and kicked the creatures legs out from under it, while the second, a mighty greataxe swing, he blocked with the hilt of the Shifting Blade. The orc tried to push against him, then with a surge of surprising strength the scribe shoved back, hurling the axe from the orc's grip sd: the orc which had been chasing Edmund turned on the two thegns who had come to the bard's defence. with a thunderous blow it swept out its axe, crashing past one warrior's shield and slamming hard into the head, sending him bleeding profusely from his nose, pumping out onto Edmund's floor. sd: Beomund too blocked an orc's blow, driving the creature down to the ground with a hard kick sd: the clash of steel continued to reverberate throughout the manor, with the orc that had just downed one thegn being struck by another, though keeping its feet sd: Beomund checked a wild swing of a greataxe, feeling the brutal strength in the chieftain's arms Hogar: Hogar reached the door of his room and went for the handle Leofric: Leofric aimed instead on the armless Orc and slashed him heavily on the head, blood bleeding profusely through it green tainted skull. The pain clearly affects the orc delaying its attacks for now. He then turned his attention on the tripped Orc. Beomund: Beomund focused himself as the chieftain overextended itself, and retaliated with a quick blow to the head, which left the orc reeling. sd: Atol lashed out with a hard cut on an orc, though he narrowly missed a vein Edmund: Edmund swung his bow back and pulled out his flute. Leofric: Moving supernaturally, Leofric beheaded the disarmed Orc with a swish of his Shifting Blade. The neck sprout even more gruesome black blood onto his skins. He then eyed the fallen Orc with a pitless smile. Hogar: Hogar opened the door and moved towards the waiting room, trusting his companions would be able to handle the other orcs while helped Synne, Atol and any surviving thegns still there Beomund: Hearing the commotion of combat ahead of him and worried for his friends, Beomund lunged forward once more and struck the chieftain once more in the skull, felling the creature and adding to the sprays of blood that coated the tile. sd: Atol landed another quick strike, though it was not a strong one Edmund: Edmund raised the flute and played - loud and fierce and hopeful. Leofric: Leofric slayed the final orc in his room. He glanced around quickly to see if there is any other orcs in the room. Four Orcs laid slain and dying. He quickly strolled toward the chamber hall, ready to help out. sd: Atol and Synne each attacked the same orc, pressing it hard though failing to injure it. sd: the orcs continued to press. the one in Edmund's room overreached with a great swing, allowing the thegn there to hook his shield round the creature's leg and hurling it down by the chest that Edmund had recovered his gear from. Atol, meanwhile, turned another blow adroitly, forcing the orc's axe to smash right into the creature by its side, though it managed to stay upright sd: the orc at Beomund's feet blocked one blow, but this opened it up to another, brutal backhanded strike that laid open its skull sd: the orcish warchief raised its axe high and swung it hard at Synne. The Lady of the Werlings gave an angry scream and drove up with her shield, smashing the blow away. "Your fucking skull will be on my wall soon, you noisome cunt!" Synne spat. Edmund: Despite the situation, Edmund smiled as he heard Synne's voice in the distance. Leofric: Leofric strolled out of his chamber covered in Orc blood. He turned his Will outward to help out his close friends and allies and starts gesturing with his spare hand and chanting. His closest friends would heard that he is casting a spell to boost their strength amdist the combats Leofric: EDIT: Recognise that he is casting a spell to boost their strength admist the combat Leofric: He glanced at Beomund and his surrounding thegns and gave a quick gesture that he is fine Hogar: Hogar dashed with enhanced speed clearing the space separating him from Atol, Synne and the remaining thegn in a mere moments and attacking the orcs from the other side. Edmund: Edmund grabbed his bow again and drew another arrow. sd: "Kill that one, fast!" Atol called to Hogar, flicking his blade at the warchief that he himself could not reach Hogar: Hogar swung his axe the warchief's right arm with such strength that the limb was left bloodied and battered and the orc himself dazed, though far from slain. sd: one shaman began to advance on Edmund, trying to corner him while raising a two-handed staff. the orc let off a quick spell and the bard felt exhaustion begin to seep into his bones, but he fought it off. the second cast a spell at Synne, seeking to wrack her with dark energy, but to the orc's surprise it was blocked by Beomund's protective spell. sd: Atol lashed out with a blow that was deflected. Synne, meanwhile, aimed at the orc she had cut earlier, which was beginning to flag with loss of blood. Though her blow did not penetrate its armour, as it stumbled she drove her knee up between its legs, and it fell back at her feet sd: the thegns who had been helping Beomund kicked open a door just in time to see two orcs battling by a table where two other guards had been playing at dice before the attack. One guard was already down, and as they entered the second took a heavy blow to the head. They thought he would fall too, but the stout warrior of Phalen, stumbling back, righted himself against the table and held his shield up, desperate to hang on long enough for the others to come to his aid. Leofric: Leofric strolled quickly toward the waiting room and glanced at Edmund and enraged Shaman approaching Ed. Leofric: While chanting his spell with his spare hand dripping black blood gesturing. Hogar: Hogar lashed out at the warchief again with even greater strength and slew him by gorily severing his arm at the elbow. sd: Synne gave a wild laugh as the stump pumped black blood over her pregnant belly. "Best turn back into a bird, bastard!" she cried to the shaman. "Or I'll send you flying out the window without wings." sd: Atol accentuated his mistress' words with a brutal slash on one of the remaining orcs, which, though it kept its feet, was nearing death Edmund: Edmund backed out of the door, keeping the shaman in his sights. He let the arrow fly, straight and true, and it hit the orc hard. Black blood spouted from its mouth as it fell twitching to the ground. Beomund is disconnected. Beomund has connected. Leofric: Leofric released his Will, all his friends, allies and guards felt a strange humming that give them increased strength against their enemies. Smiling, Leofric starts to charge into a melee. Hogar: Hogar slew another orc by splitting its torso in two with across the ribcage single well-place blow. Hogar: edit: by splitting its torso in two across the ribcage with a single well-placed blow sd: with the battle clearly turning in their direction, the orc shaman took Synne's advice and transformed back into a bird, flying out of the window just before Leofric could reach the fray. Atol and Synne hacked down the two remaining orcs, then the Lady of the Werlings turned to Leofric and eyed him critically. "Hmm. You should put something on, otherwise you'll present Maccus with a terrible distraction," she said with a sniff. Hogar: "We all should."said Hogar, flatly "And then we might want to find out what happened elsewhere - the city's centre's on fire, I saw a lot of smoke coming from there." Edmund: Edmund had run up to the room where the others were gathered. At Synne's words he looked down at his own lack of clothes and laughed, but then grew serious at Hogar's words.. Beomund: Beomund came to join the others, having fought the orcs at the other end of the hall with the help of the thegns. "We've put the fear in them, it seems." Leofric: Leofric eyed Synne for a moment and only smiled slightly before looking alarmed at the Hogar's words. "Let me put something on and see what we can do. Look like they sent their better ones and still, it wasn't enough." He went back quickly to get his clothings and armours. Edmund: Edmund grimaced. "Best wash the blood off first Leo." Hogar: As they discussed what to do, Hogar put his healing skills to use, quickly and deftly treating the wound on Beomund's leg. Leofric: Upon his return, he quickly killed the still living Orcs in his room, washed the blood off with a bowl of water and cleaned his Shitting Blade. Before long, he returned ready for a war that is a certainty to come. Beomund: Beomund thanked Hogar for his aid and quickly gathered his equipment. sd: outside, Maccus had led the men and drove off the orcs in the courtyard with only light losses. The Coelneyman had a nick on his throat from an arrow that had struck him clean - Beomund's spell had been all that saved his life. Further on, they could see that there was a great fire in the centre of the city, and even at this remove they could hear the clashing of weapons and the frenzied screams of dying men and orcs. They quickly mounted up, leaving Maccus, Atol and the others to guard the manor. A knot of a dozen men who remained in fighting shape also found horses and prepared to join them. Beomund is disconnected. Beomund has connected. Leofric: Leofric greeted Maccus with a sense of relief that he survived the fight, "Good luck." Hogar: "Good men already died tonight - I hope you will not join them." said Hogar bidding farewell to those guarding the manor Edmund: Edmund grinned at Maccus, relieved to see he and the others had survived. "You missed something tonight, we had to leap straight out of bed to deal with the orcs." sd: the party rode out with their Thegns behind them. they tore through the night, daring any stray orcs to bar their path, but if any were at hand they lacked the courage or foolishness to stand in the way of the great trio of Gaston warhorses.
by the time the party reached the city proper, the immediate battle had passed, though clearly some skirmishes remained throughout the city. From stragglers they had come across on the way, they'd learned that the attack had come up very suddenly, apparently from some part of the Undercity which the Watch had not had under their eye. A great hole had abruptly been opened, dragging several shops down, and out from the gap had poured nearly a thousand orcs with cruel axe and flaming brands. At the same moment, a force of goblins had swum the river, battling the defenders of the docks before being pushed back. There had been no sign of the Chief in the battle, though apparently an undead mage, guarded by a half-dozen wights, had led the assault. In all likelihood this had been the Liche of the Witchfort, the Chief's right-hand man, though the Liche had not taken great part in the battle and had easily fled back down into the Undercity.
While the fighting had largely died down, many people lay dead or dying, fires were raging wildly, and some defenders of the city were trapped in burning buildings. The party took a breath and prepared to help save as many lives as they could. sd: knowing they could be separated, Leofric cast a spell that would allow them to communicate telepathically. Hogar tended to any wounded he could find, sewing up wounds, ministering to burns, and in a few grim cases performing amputations to prevent infected wounds from claiming a life. Edmund cast a spell to allow his voice to cut through the din, and he went about, speaking words of encouragement to everyone he could find, pulling them together to work most effectively to put out the fires. Beomund examined buildings, working out which were most likely to collapse first and prioritising these to send people into for help. sd: Leofric cast a spell to speed their movements, and then they dispersed. hearing news of orcish javeliners holed up in some buildings nearby, Edmund gathered a group of bowmen and led them in routing them out, fighting a running battle at range, while Hogar continued to tend to the injured. Beomund came across a score of men trapped in a burning building, stuck between a wall and the fire - racking his brains, he attempted a spell to open up a hole in the stone wall, but fatigue had fogged his mind and the arcane syllables failed on his lips. By the time he was able to get the spell off, half the men had already succumbed to smoke and flame. sd: Leofric used a new spell, allowing him to sense movements by their vibrations. With this, they could target damaged and burning buildings on the basis of knowing which had people still alive in them, and this time Beomund succeeded with his magic, opening a hole in a draper's shop, saving thirty lives instants before the building collapsed. Hogar went about with the Darkling Axe, activating its power to put out the flames, while Edmund rounded up defenders and spoke encouragingly to them, inspiring them to fight through their exhaustion and not stop moving until every fire had been put out, every life saved. sd: Hogar began to tend to those Beomund and Leofric had rescued, while Edmund cast a spell on his dog, Cadenza, enhancing the canine's intellect and using him to sniff out survivors amongst the rubble. As they took a quick break from their labours, they saw they were not the only ones using magic to aid in the defense of the city. Around a corner came Heorot, the Ealdorman of Bluebrycg, surrounded by a phalanx of Thegns, twoscore strong. These were not the only men following him. Another twenty-five, in mismatching clothes, went with him. They appeared to be various stragglers and some of the city's poorer defenders, and from the looks in their eyes the party doubted their aid was entirely voluntary. Utterly fearless, these men rushed into burning buildings, pulling out anyone or anything they could. The Ealdorman had obviously already rescued a number of valuable trinkets so far in the night. sd: = her, not him, for Cadenza sd: disgusted, Leofric stepped towards the Bluebrycg men and spoke sharp, arcane words just as a group of men emerged from a burning jeweller's, bringing with them several survivors and bags of gems. Leofric was able to dispel Heorot's enchantment, and as he did, one man, realising what had been done to him, picked up a jewel and flung it towards Heorot in anger. Before his Thegns could react, the heavy gem smashed the Ealdorman of Bluebrycg square in the face, breaking open his lip and chipping a tooth, while the newly freed men fled. Heorot wiped blood from his face and gave Leofric a hateful glare that the scribe returned levelly.
While Beomund continued to comb through buildings, Hogar was hard at work amongst the injured, sewing up wounds. Beneath one pile they found one woman they recognised - it was Goldrun, the woman who had once tried to steal from them, and who had instead found work at their shelter. An orcish arrow had caught her through the throat and the men who had carried her out assumed she was dead, but Hogar found a pulse and set to work feverishly. With expert hands he was able to pry the arrow out without causing her further damage, then reached in and pinched shut her artery with one free hand long enough that helpers could sew her shut.
Edmund once again gathered a group of volunteers, and he ran out again, battling street by street against a gang of goblin archers who had been cut off from the river and forced west into the city. The Screaming Bow spoke with the enraged voices of Phalen's dead, sending arrow after arrow to bury itself into goblin skulls, promising grim ends for any of the Chief's minions that did not flee for their lives immediately. sd: Edmund, returning, rounded up a few more men and gave them another speech. By now the sun was beginning to rise and the fires were almost out, and he called on them to summon up a last reserve of energy, a last gasp. Among the crowd were some of the men who Leofric had rescued from Heorot's spell, and they were the first to agree to help them. the man who had struck Heorot with a gem was tireless. Hogar used the Darkling Axe to fight the fires in a burning building Leofric had spotted, and the man rushed through. His face was black with soot and burns, but nonetheless he fought on, emerging from the building with unconscious men under either arm, and a woman over his shoulders. Legs trembling with exertion, he pushed himself out of the door just in time for both the building and himself to collapse. sd: by now, the party had been fighting and working all night, and as the sun rose they finally allowed themselves to find a place to rest. Their sleep lasted only an hour, however, when Deoneath found them. "I'm sorry to trouble you, my friends, but there's a war council being summoned immediately and if you don't come now then I fear disaster," said the Watchman. Leofric: Leofric eyed the watchman and nodded warily, "Not a problem. We will try to do our best!" He shook himself awake, "How you and your men are faring?" He asked with a hint of concern in his tone. Edmund: "We will come of course," Edmund said. sd: "We just suffered a heavy attack from a level of the Undercity we didn't realise existed," Deoneath said harshly. "Our Captain was assassinated in his sleep and I've closed the eyes of ten close friends since nightfall. Apart from that, I'm none the worse for wear." Edmund: "This was well planned and co-ordinated," Edmund said. "We were targetted at the manor, a group of Orc warriors with shamans flapping through our windows in crow form." Leofric: Leofric bowed his head for a moment in respect of the losses of Deoneath's men, "These orc warriors were all slain and the rest of the orcs on the ground were defeated." He added afterward Hogar: "They were an elite force - this was all organized very throughly. Someone quite cunning must be leading them." sd: "That is just how Captain Blacwin was killed," said Deoneath. "All five Councillors were also attacked. Rypan and that idiot Hothbeorht are still alive, the others are dead. Sometime when this mess is sorted we'll need three new Councillors, and I know who at least one of them needs to be," the Watchman added, giving Edmund a significant look. "But we have other business to attend to. The Chief is a clever bastard. For weeks his men have been collapsing tunnels and making a racket - it was a distraction so we didn't notice them burrowing under. The Liche's mages suddenly cast a spell to shape the earth to create a great hole, and the orcs came bursting out. We've killed most of them, but the Liche's men closed up the hole and we can't follow." Edmund: Edmund looked surprised as he interpreted Deoneath's look, but concentrated on the matter in hand. "There must be a way through, surely. Maybe not for a large number..." Beomund: "Unfortunately my magic won't work on earth," said Beomund with a frown. "But if you found any other entrance of stone, I could help you." sd: "Perhaps. Of course we have the ones above ground to deal with as well." Deoneath sighed. "Where I need your help is at the council, not below the earth, not yet. Listen. If Blacwin were alive, he would unquestionably be the one the Council would have chosen to lead the campaign in defence of the city. But now he's dead, and the reputation of the Watch has taken a hit tonight. We'll be electing a successor sometime today or tomorrow, but before we do that we need to choose someone to lead the campaign. I'm a soldier, not a diplomat, I can't persuade the Council and the warleaders. Ealdorman Heorot is trying to get them to nominate the Ealdorman of Wihthrycg to take the command, while the Church is putting forward some knight who's only arrived from Gastony a month ago. I need you to persuade them to not be mad and to select the Captain of the Watch - regardless of who we choose." Edmund: Edmund frowned. "As much fun as fighting orcs. Well we'll do our best. I wouldn't trust anyone Heorot was pushing forward, and a newly arrived knight is unthinkable." sd: "Heorot is already spreading tales to say you interfered with his efforts to aid in relief efforts as a result of a personal grudge," said Deoneath. "A Soiled Sister called Sidwell spoke up on your behalf but Heorot is a crafty snake. I fear he's already trying to turn as many warleaders against you as he can manage." Leofric: Leofric frowned for a moment at mention of Heorot spreading the tales, "Hmm, I see. No doubt the Church doesn't think too well of us either." Edmund: "Heorot used mind-controlling magic to force men to go into burning buildings - they weren't just rescuing people either. We just set them free." sd: Deoneath muttered curses under his breath. "I'm glad then that Rypan and Hothbeorht have brought in those two Fryderi women. The Church complained that someone - they obviously meant you - might try to sway people's minds at the council with magic, so these two Fryderi sorceresses who have no particular allegiances are present, solely to make sure that doesn't happen." Beomund: "We don't need spells to sway people, when we have Edmund," said Beomund. "If they can be convinced, he'll convince them." Edmund: Edmund smiled at this. Hogar: "We will use our skills and reputation to help any way we can."said Hogar "Whether that means supporting others we can trust or, if no one could be found, take the responsability ourselves." Leofric: Leofric nodded, "And we might be help out, even though we only got copper tongues compared to Ed's silver tongues." sd: "If all goes well, my friend Commander Ebrard will be Captain of the Watch within the day," said Deoneath. "He wanted to put me forward, but I don't have the temperment for it. There are other candidates, but they're not as suitable." Edmund: "We will do all we can to convince them to trust that the Captain will be the right person to lead," Edmund said. "May we meet Ebrard?" sd: "He's at the council, yes," said Deoneath. "I've known him for years, a solid man, good judgement, and unlike me he can actually occasionally persuade people to listen to his ideas." Leofric: Leofric nodded, "That's good enough for us." He smiled faintly, "I suppose we will need to get to it." sd: the party mounted up, with Deoneath, lacking such a fine horse, hopping into the saddle behind Hogar.
they rode hard, heading for a small estate which was five miles west of the city, belonging to a client of Councillor Rypan. The Lord and his fighters were still there, while the women, children and elderly had been evacuated by the Soiled Sisters. A group of about fifty warleaders of various clans had gathered there in a great courtyard beneath two tall elm trees. Along with the clan chiefs captains of the Church, two leaders of the Bloodied Eyes, and Sidwell to represent the Soiled Sisters. The two surviving Phalen Councillors were also present. Beneath one tree was Ealdorman Heorot, in conversation with the Ealdorman of Wihthrycg, Waldric, a short, stout man. At his waist was his prized possession, the magic sword which their friend, the Conclave mage Deogol, had enchanted for him at the time of the party's arrival in Palania.
Standing as far away from Heorot as possible was another old rival of the party's. Father Ingilam, the old soldier who had been the one the Vice-Priest had sent to charge them with blasphemy, was leading the Church's delegation, as the Vice-Priest himself had been evacuated. Ser Kennald was not present, as the Silvered Blades were still engaged in fighting near to the river. The Church had devoted some thousand men to this campaign, the largest single contribution beyond those men directly accountable to the Council, and those warriors they had promised were hardened veterans, fighters in the Kalmar campaign as well as veterans of wars at home. One of these was the famed knight, Ser Godefrid of Ganburg, in the mountains of Wolsete. In the Lordstrife he had been one of the greatest commanders to remain loyal to the Crown, and had struck up a close friendship with the Regent, Hrothgar of Haragmyne. Beomund and Hogar each knew him by reputation - he was best suited to offensive campaigns and was noted for daring raids, though he was said to be somewhat cavalier with his own life and those of his men. With the civil war that had broken out in Gastony, his position had become untenable. Unwilling to either wage war on his king or his friend, he had instead chosen to travel to Palania until the matter could be resolved.
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Post by sleepingdragon on Jun 25, 2017 13:19:01 GMT
sd: the party mounted up, with Deoneath, lacking such a fine horse, hopping into the saddle behind Hogar.
they rode hard, heading for a small estate which was five miles west of the city, belonging to a client of Councillor Rypan. The Lord and his fighters were still there, while the women, children and elderly had been evacuated by the Soiled Sisters. A group of about fifty warleaders of various clans had gathered there in a great courtyard beneath two tall elm trees. Along with the clan chiefs captains of the Church, two leaders of the Bloodied Eyes, and Sidwell to represent the Soiled Sisters. The two surviving Phalen Councillors were also present. Beneath one tree was Ealdorman Heorot, in conversation with the Ealdorman of Wihthrycg, Waldric, a short, stout man. At his waist was his prized possession, the magic sword which their friend, the Conclave mage Deogol, had enchanted for him at the time of the party's arrival in Palania.
Standing as far away from Heorot as possible was another old rival of the party's. Father Ingilam, the old soldier who had been the one the Vice-Priest had sent to charge them with blasphemy, was leading the Church's delegation, as the Vice-Priest himself had been evacuated. Ser Kennald was not present, as the Silvered Blades were still engaged in fighting near to the river. The Church had devoted some thousand men to this campaign, the largest single contribution beyond those men directly accountable to the Council, and those warriors they had promised were hardened veterans, fighters in the Kalmar campaign as well as veterans of wars at home. One of these was the famed knight, Ser Godefrid of Ganburg, in the mountains of Wolsete. In the Lordstrife he had been one of the greatest commanders to remain loyal to the Crown, and had struck up a close friendship with the Regent, Hrothgar of Haragmyne. Beomund and Hogar each knew him by reputation - he was best suited to offensive campaigns and was noted for daring raids, though he was said to be somewhat cavalier with his own life and those of his men. With the civil war that had broken out in Gastony, his position had become untenable. Unwilling to either wage war on his king or his friend, he had instead chosen to travel to Palania until the matter could be resolved.
With the party's arrival, Councillor Rypan stood. "My lords!" he called to the assembly. "We must call this council together as quickly as possible. By the request of our allies from the kingdom of Gastony, I will first make clear - there is to be absolutely no use of magic of any sort while we are gathered together. I have hired these two," he indicated a pair of round-faced Fryderi women, "to police this. They will now cast spells of their own to detect any use of these arts throughout the time we are together. Anyone who violates this rule is to be ejected from the council. If you have any equipment of magical quality, this will be confiscated and returned to you when we have completed our business. We will make momentous decisions here that will decide the course of our land - we must make them on the basis of careful thought and argument, not enchantments. Is that clear?" a few clan leaders who owned minor trinkets were already handing them over. Ealdorman Heorot, with an amused look on his face, went to speak to his ally Ealdorman Waldric, who needed to be persuaded to hand over his prized magic sword. Leofric: Leofric nodded as he handed over his Shifting Blade weapon and other magical assortments. Beomund: Beomund relinquished his magical possessions grimly, trusting that they could rely on their own skills, especially Edmund's, to see them through. Hogar: Hogar silently handed over all of his magical equipment - weapons, armor and jewelry all. Edmund: Edmund willingly handed over the Screaming Bow, and drew a diamond ring from his finger, but his hand lingered on the Wind God's flute before he let it be put safely away. Hogar: edit: weapons and jewelry all sd: the Fryderi women cast spells which they recognised as being of the same sort that Leofric often used, though of a different tradition. once they were satisfied everything had been passed over, Councillor Rypan ordered his servants who brought out several long rows of benches. These were laid out at the four cardinal points around the courtyard, with a large space left clear in between the benches. The Ealdormen Heorot and Waldric seated themselves on the eastern benches with their supporters, while the Church, and their allies, were opposite them. Deoneath waved the party over to the southern benches, where Sidwell sat next to Leofring, the most senior of the Bloodied Eyes who had survived the expedition to the Long Shore. The northern benches were the most populated, and these appeared to be where lords who were undecided as to how to proceed were seating themselves. The two surviving councillors, Rypan and Hothbeorht, seated themselves here, though from experience they knew that Hothbeorht was a non-entity, under the sway of his much more formidable wife, Guthild. sd: seated next to Deoneath was a short, stout man with a bluff face marred by a puckered arrow scar beneath his left eye. "This is Ebrard," he said quietly. "If all goes the way I hope, by tomorrow night he will be the new Captain of the Undercity Watch, though Commander Ilfred there has other ideas." Ilfred was also seated on the southern benches. He was perhaps ten years older than Ebrard, a minor scion of a Palanian noble clan. He was of much greater stature than Ebrard, though for one of the Warm Cadavers, height was as much of a hindrance as a help.
"We are rivals in that," said Ebrard. He spoke with the accent of the lowborn, and they guessed he originally hailed from somewhere near to Middlemere. "But we both agree that the Undercity Watch must have the command in this fight, no matter which of us becomes the new Captain." Leofric: Leofric pursed his lips and nodded, "A sound idea. Should be interesting to see how this goes." As he eyed the others around the group Leofric: He whispered Edmund: "I'd say if Deoneath supports him, Ebrard should be our choice too," Edmund muttered to Leofric. Hogar: "I agree. As for others to worry about..." Hogar said "The Church will no doubt interfere with our plans in some way. " sd: once everyone was seated, Councillor Rypan called the council to order. "My lords, it was the intention of the Council that Watch Captain Blacwin should have the command in this campaign," he began. "But alas! Blacwin has been assassinated, along with three of my colleagues on the Council. The Undercity Watch maintain that Blacwin's successor should take the lead in this war, however we do not yet know who this will be, and it may be that there are others who might be better placed to lead us through this crisis than a newly ascended Watch Captain. The Ealdorman Heorot, and Father Ingilam on behalf of the Virian Church, have both suggested alternative commanders. We will therefore listen to their arguments and decide." With this, Councillor Rypan returned to his seat, and the Ealdormen Heorot and Waldric came forward to speak. Heorot's nose was red from where he had been struck by a hurled gem, and he gave Leofric a venomous look as he prepared to speak. sd: "My lords!" Heorot called. He was a small man, but he had a great command of his voice. "These are perilous times. As you all are well aware, I am no military man, and I will gladly lend the full support of Bluebrycg Weapontake to whosoever this council selects as our commander. I may know little of war, but my good friend, Waldric the Ealdorman of Wihthrycg, is a great soldier. He's held that fortress for many years and has led countless expeditions against the evil monsters of the Camber Hills."
Waldric nodded and spoke. "I have never lost a battle," he boasted. "And this war will be my element. We are on the defensive against the Chief, and will need to hold the line of the Saltanow against his forces. I've held Wihthrycg and other fortress against siege five times in my life. We need only to hold our positions and wait for a chance to counterattack."
Ealdorman Heorot nodded. "You're absolutely right my friend. I wish to make several additional points. Although I'm no military man, as I said, it seems to me that this is no choice at all! The alternatives here are whoever the Captain of the Undercity Watch will be - an as yet unknown person, taking a new office, unused to full control over even their own organisation - or on the other hand, a foreigner." Heorot turned and looked directly towards Ser Godefrid. "Do you believe the proud people of Palania will assent to fight for an outsider who only even arrived in this country in this past month? My lords, I am no military man, but I know that to make such a foolish choice would deal a great blow to the morale of our men. We should therefore choose Ealdorman Waldric, and hold the line of the Saltanow against all enemies." sd: when Heorot's speech had concluded and he and Waldric returned to their places, Father Ingilam and Ser Godefrid stood. The knight was clearly stung by Heorot's words, and he advanced angrily, spurs clinking, raising himself up. Both Ingilam and Godefrid stood several inches over six feet tall, and their warlike mien was in stark contrast to Heorot's sly charm.
"I," Godefrid said slowly, "am Ser Godefrid of Ganburg. Captor of the castles of Rythdun, Wolsing, and Harworth. Victorious commander in the great battles at Istenmark and Valfold. I was the second-in-command to the Regent at the battle of Barsenburg, a greater fight that has been seen in this land for a hundred years, wherein I slew seven Sharran paladins and led the rout of their right flank. I have killed a hundred dragonspawn in many different battles in the high mountains of Wolsete. I will not fail you." Ser Godefrid made a fist.
Father Ingilam followed the knight with a less boastful tone. "As Ser Godefrid has told you here so eloquently, he is the right man to lead this war. Would you really simply hide behind the line of the Saltanow? This is a foolish strategy, which is to be expected from a foolish man who is indeed no military mind. I am a priest now, but I too have been a soldier. To rely solely on the defensive against an enemy who can attack us with dark sorcery and sudden strikes from the Undercity is a strategy that will lead to your deaths. We must take to the field and bring the fight to the enemy, and there are no better men for this than the knights of Gastony, the finest warriors in this grey world. But they will not be suffer to be led by witches," Father Ingilam met Sidwell's eye, "or apostate sorcerers," he glared then at the party, "nor enemies of our faith." He turned back to Heorot. "The Undercity Watch are brave men, but in the field they are no wiser than anyone else. Let them look to our defences below ground - where, I must say, that if tonight is any indication you must redouble your efforts," Commander Ilfred gave a cry of protest and had to be restrained from standing in challenge. "Above ground, the command should be in the hands of one of the knights of the Virian Church, who, may I remind you, are greater in numbers than those brought here today from any Weapontake in Palania, save Phalen itself. We will destroy the Chief, free the land of Estensalt, and save this city." Leofric: Once Father Ingilam finished his speech and Leofric returned his glare levelly. Leofric stood up and bowed slightly with great respect to all involved, "Greetings, all." He said in a fine clear tone, "My name is Leofric, a Seer of the Conclave." He continued in a same calm tone, "Indeed, it is important to note that a right person to lead this war should be able to work closely with the Conclave who are capable of offering highly helpful support such as communication over long distance and other organisation such as esteemed Spoiled Sisters who led evacuation efforts of Phalen. Such prejudice can be harmful for the war effort on the whole." He ended respectfully, sitting down, looking at his peers to see what they have to say. Hogar: Hogar cleared his throat and stood to speak, wishing to add to Leofric's words "Indeed, "apostate sorcerers" and "witches" he said with a hint of sarcasm "have their uses, and city cannot afford to ignore their contributions, which have, in the past, benefitted not merely Phalen but Palania as a whole. Especially against problems caused by less scrupolous magic users - such as those we will continue to face in this war, as the Chief's forces do not fight only with steel and stealth." Edmund: With a nod to Leofric, Edmund stood next. He counted a long pause, looking around at each and every person to give power to his words. "My Lords and comrades in arms! I am Edmund, once of Malagen, now Thegn of Phalen and a member of the Bard's College," he said in a loud and carrying voice, bowing to the assembled personages. "Ealdorman Waldric has given us a clear vision of how he and Ealdorman Heorot believe we should prosecute this campaign. They want to hold the lign of the Saltanow. We do not doubt that Waldric is a fine warrior, but he has proved his strength in seige conditions. Edmund: The situation here is different. By sitting still, taking the defensive, we will allow the enemy to withdraw and reorganise. An enemy that proved tonight that it is well led, highly capable and well-informed. They are now driven off and weakened, and this is the perfect time to follow and take the fight to them, not sit behind our walls!" He drew breath and looked around again. "Ser Goedfrid has given us a different vision, but one which brings with it its own difficulties. As Leofric has so rightly pointed out, the Conclave and other organisations based on the use of Magic are an essential element to the defence of Phalen, and our campaign to rid this land once and for all of the vicious creatures of chaos. Edmund: Magic CAN be used for good - witness the Cleansing of the Plague Fields. There is no way that we will succeed in this fight without ALL those who are standing up for the people of Phalen, and the whole of Palania. This campaign must be led by someone who can draw all our disparate groups together and bring out their strengths." He sat down with a final bow. Edmund: edit* lign = line sd: the discussion continued, with the party pressing the strategic problems in the plans of their opponents. At this point, Leofring stood to speak for the Bloodied Eyes.
"At this moment, it's most clear what a waste it was that Drefen turned on us," he said. "If he'd not turned to evil, then he would be here, and be the obvious choice for the command, against an army of monsters as he would have wanted. But so be it, he's dead. It's quite clear of course that the real commander should be our Brother, Hogar, if only you had sense and wouldn't reject him out of hand," Leofring glared at the Church. "But failing him, it should be the Captain of the Watch. In military matters you should follow a chain of succession, and as Blacwin is dead, his successor should be in command. The Undercity Watch are the people who know the most of any of us about defending this city. Put your trust in them!" sd: the debate continued, and Ealdorman Heorot, seeing he was at a disadvantage on this matter, turned instead towards trying to poison the minds of the audience. "Would you really put the defence of Palanian land into the hands of a foreigner, or of an unknown person backed by foreigners? This is our country, and our blood that will be spilled - it's our blood who should have the command!" He continued to revile the party and the Church, and although Ser Godefrid responded with insults in kind, Edmund, Leofric, and Ebrard, speaking for the Watch, kept their cool, and thus continued to win over the undecided lords with their decorum. sd: the party relentlessly pulled the discussion back around to matters of strategy, knowing their advantage there, and for a number of minutes kept the discussion narrowly focused on this. "We need to be agile," said Commander Ilfred. "We don't know where the Chief is, even, but when we find out we need to move fast to eliminate him. When he dies, the enemy will be in disarray. To do this we'll need to be able to gather and share information rapidly - in other words, we need the magic of the Conclave and the Soiled Sisters! We need a captain who'll listen to them and treat them with respect. And we need a commander who won't just sit back and hope to defend." sd: Ser Godefrid attempted to win the audience over with stirring oratory, speaking at great length of his victories in Gastony and how he had prevailed against far greater numbers, but the party quickly turned this back. "You've won battles against large numbers of humans," Ebrard said bluntly. "We are facing an army of orcs and goblins and cyclopes and other beasts who will not fight like Sharrans or any kind of Virian. Do you think you can charge against a cyclops on horseback, Ser Godefrid?" sd: Ebrard and the party continued to press the advantage. They pointed out Ser Godefrid's own personal history, including reminding him of certain battles of the Lordstrife which had not gone so well as his boasted victories, and had needed to be rescued from his recklessness by the Regent. This, however, backfired, and Father Ingilam rallied, pointing out these losses were mere skirmishes, and had ultimately contributed to Gastony's ultimate victory in the war.
With this the orators of the Church began to find their confidence, and they cried out that the forces of Palania did not need to rely on fell sorcery, but only strong steel and faith in God. They seemed to be winning this point, until Ealdorman Heorot rose and shouted with power and passion that belied his small frame and petty mind. "Our gods," he cried, "will defend our cities, not your foreign, false one! Under the banner of Osoltan, who you blaspheme against and name a demon, we will defend Phalen!" sd: Heorot continued to press this sore point, railing against the idea that the defence of Palania should be led by a people who hated their gods and their way of life. The mood was turning ugly and Godefrid was having to be restrained from responding in kind and confirming that he did, indeed, regard Osoltan as a demon. sd: Leofric stood to try to mollify the crowd, projecting an attitude of dignified calm against Heorot's demagogic rantings. The slippery Ealdorman tried to shift like a snake into speech with more propriety, but the sudden change was difficult to manage.
"We have two people who are standing here trying to persuade you that they'd be great unifiers by pointing out how much they hate the other people in our alliance!" Sidwell said incredulously. "The Undercity Watch are the only institution above this nonsense. They have Virians and pagans working side by side. If you pick Waldric or Godefrid as our leader, the Chief, wherever he is, will laugh at you." Edmund: Edmund stood again. "The Undercity Watch can provide a leader who knows the city and the enemy, who will be able to draw on the strengths of both sides." He spoke further and saw that some of those who were undecided were nodding their heads at his words. sd: Father Ingilam was desperate now, and began to attack the strategic competence of the Watch, but his arguments were clearly based on falsehoods which Ebrard, Leofring, and Hogar were able to expose with their tactical acumen. Edmund: Finally Edmund got up and moved forward, looking about at the assembly. "It is clear that to defeat and finally drive out the Orcs and Goblins, we must have an alliance, and that cannot come about if the leader represents one interest or another. The Captain of the City Watch is the natural choice to bring these disparate groups together. If we do not do this, and continue to push for one side or another, we will serve no interests but that of the Orcs and Goblin. This is what they want. Do not let us do their evil work for them!" sd: by now the assembled lords had clearly grown tired of the bluster of Godefrid and Ingilam, and the deceitful invective of Ealdorman Heorot. When Councillor Rypan called on the lords to raise their hands, virtually all of those who had been undecided to begin the evening voted to name Blacwin's successor as the captain of the campaign.
"As I hoped!" Councillor Rypan exclaimed, absurdly attempting to involve himself in the accomplishment of the party and their allies. "We will put our fates in the hands of the Undercity Watch, our stoutest defenders. I urge you to choose your new Captain as soon as possible, and choose wisely." sd: with their victory, Deoneath led the party aside with Commander Ebrard. "Now comes the easier part, I hope," he said. "There will be a vote probably later today or by tomorrow at the very latest. I realise you've not had a proper night's sleep, but we need to go amongst as many Commanders and Watchmen as possible and persuade them to choose Ebrard. Ilfred is a good man and if he wins it won't be a disaster, but Ebrard is made of stouter stuff, and he doesn't have people around him who are likely to be swayed by Heorot. I think he'll try to interfere, to spite you if nothing else." Edmund: "We have had problems with Bluebrycg in the past, and would not be surprised," Edmund replied. "Ebrard is a man of the people and would gain much support in the city, not just among the powerful." Leofric: Leofric nodded with a grim smile, "We will do our best nevertheless!" sd: soon they began to hear of lies Heorot was unleashing against them with various highly placed Commanders, and Edmund was sent to counter these with reason. Meanwhile, the others sprang into action. Deoneath introduced Beomund to several important Watchmen, and in exchange for their support, the smith taught them ways they could strengthen the tunnels they had to guard paths into the Undercity. Hogar was sent to debate strategy with one of Ilfred's supporters, winning the day by suggesting a more daring strategy than the cautious Ilfred would be willing to adopt, while Leofric entertained a highly ranking Commander who was on the fence. Leofric poured him a drink and, exhausted, nearly dropped a glass on him, but God was on his side and he was able to snatch the falling glass with a smooth motion. The Commander became convinced Leofric had done this deliberately, and, deciding he liked the Erseman's flair for the dramatic, was much more inclined to listen to him, going away ultimately with an agreement that he would back Ebrard. sd: as the day wore on, they found that Heorot had bribed a number of minor functionaries, who then set up bureaucratic obstacle courses for the party to run through - forcing them through pointless 'security' measures to ensure they were not assassins, wasting precious time. Edmund managed to win through one of these with his flute and entertain a number of Commanders while Ebrard drank with them, and Beomund did some work in the Watch's forges, winning goodwill by repairing armour that had been broken in the battles of the previous day - though at first, he actually made matters worse, being unfamiliar with the lighter armours the Watch favoured, and had to redouble his efforts later to pull out ahead. sd: as night wore on, fatigue began to burn, but they persevered, while Heorot and his underlings clearly did not. Leofric was able to undo some of the bureaucratic hurdles which had been placed in their way, while Beomund switched to working on the Watch's weapons. One Commander's prized sword had snapped in the fight, but Beomund was able to fix it, and in gratitude he agreed he would support Ebrard. Edmund, meanwhile, visited the site of the great hole through which the orcs had attacked, where many Watchmen were hard at work, building defences. He cast a spell so that his voice would carry, and he urged them on, speaking powerfully. With his help they completed their work far more easily than they would otherwise have managed, and with this it was an easy task to convince them to back their side. Meanwhile, Hogar was at work in shadier places. He learned of one Watchman who had been carrying on an affair, and hearing of this, agreed with the man that he would not inform his wife...so long as he would agree that Ebrard was the best man to carry out the defence of the city. sd: Beomund, tired from his smithwork, went to bed, while Hogar went out to counter some of Heorot's minions, who were attempting to copy his tactics. He was able to successfully befuddle them with false information, preventing them from any kind of advance. Meanwhile, Edmund and Leofric entertained a group of Commanders, winning them with the bard's songs and the Erseman's fine manners over a lengthy breakfast session. sd: apart from Beomund, they had now slept for little more than three hours in two days, during which time they had fought a battle, argued before a council of war, and dined and argued and entertained two dozen Watch Commanders. Their minds burned with fatigue, but they gazed across the Saltanow and saw the fires of the Chief's armies, with their promise of death. But the sparks there kindled embers of resistance within their souls, and rather than weakening, they felt their spirits lift as they set out for a final burst. Leofric learned that Heorot was attempting to find Watch Commanders who he could attempt to influence with his high connections, but the canny Erseman was able to bribe one of Heorot's men to pass him false information, frustrating the manipulative Ealdorman's attempts to ensure a victory for Commander Ilfred. Meanwhile, Edmund and Hogar spoke to still more Watchmen. The bard's fine composure despite his apparent exhaustion filled them with admiration, and Hogar spoke to them at length, showing that, even as a foreigner, how he had come to admire the unique place the Undercity Watch filled in the society of Phalen.
As they were not members of the Watch themselves, they were barred from being present when the Commanders gathered together to cast their vote. Deoneath, however, kept them nearby, and, as the Prophet's Star began to rise, he ran out with a smile on his face to announce that they had been successful. "Now, please, go and sleep, and I'll come to see you in the morning." sd: they returned to the manor and collapsed into exhausted dreams. After a long rest, they woke to find Deoneath and Ebrard were already there waiting for them, taking tea with Synne, Dunstan and Maccus.
"We have a number of tasks in this war," said Ebrard once the party had time to break their fast, "but you have the most critical. You're our best fighters and with your magic you can communicate over distances and move quickly. In the name of the Council of Phalen, I am giving you this mission. Your task is to find the man called the Chief and kill him." sd: "Well," said Synne, stretching. "I'm glad you don't give them a task that will prove too difficult for them. Their egos can be hard to handle already."
Ebrard smiled at this. "I have an idea of where you can start, and where we can put your considerable talents of persuasion to good use. I was speaking with your friend Sidwell, from the Soiled Sisters. While you were east of the river, I'm told you learned that the goblins from Cyninghithe are not best pleased with the Chief. Their banners are among those east of the river, but not in great numbers. I have persuaded the Soiled Sisters to sail you east, secretly, and they will drop you off near Cyninghithe. I want you to persuade the goblin king there to turn against the Chief. I can't trust anyone else with this - none of the other men see goblins as anything other than monsters to be slain, but Sidwell has led me to understand you have a more...advanced...understanding of them." Edmund: Edmund smiled at this. "Even goblins have a sense of survival, and look to their own interest. We will try to make them see which side their bread can be best buttered." Beomund: "Their blood is buttered, more like," murmured Beomund. Leofric: Leofric nodded with a hint of grimness, "We will do our best to sow dissents against the Chief." sd: "Good. They may know something about who the Chief is, what he wants, where he is - or at least know who might know this. Once we have this information, we can move on to dealing with him." Hogar: "We did indeed have some dealings with them. Can't say they were pleasant, but we have come to understand that sometimes persuasion and not violence is the best way to deal with these creatures."
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Post by sleepingdragon on Jul 2, 2017 14:25:47 GMT
sd: they finished breaking their fast, and then, after carefully wiping his hands, Ebrard pulled out two sealed envelopes and handed them, one after the other, to Beomund who was seated nearest to him. The second had the familiar seal of the Council on it, while the first had an unfamiliar logo, a stylized skull upon which perched an open-beaked crow. "This first message is a letter of introduction which will allow you to get an audience with the goblin king of Cyninghithe, whose name I'm going to get one of my men to say to you because I couldn't possibly pronounce it and I imagine even goblins are insulted if you can't say their name," said the new Captain of the Watch. "One of the mercenaries we captured in the battle used to work for him. In exchange for not suffering an agonising death as a slaver and traitor, he's agreed to pretend to have worked with you before - under assumed names of course - and to write you this glowing note speaking of your prowess in battle, your total lack of scruples, ferocity, and so on and so forth." Beomund: "I had hoped not to have to pretend to be unscrupulous mercenaries again so soon, but it must be done," said Beomund. Edmund: "We had better use new names," Edmund said with a grim smile. sd: "You won't need to pretend it for very long, I pray," said Ebrard. "I have your new names written down, let me just find them." Hogar: "We can keep us some minor deception."said Hogar, obviously understating things Hogar: edit: keep up sd: once the Watch Captain had given them their pseudonyms, he continued. "You shouldn't need them long," he said. "Once you actually get into an audience with the king, you should give him that note from the Council. Do not give it to anyone but the king himself - you might need to hide it on yourself as I imagine they'll search you first. The message authorises you to speak on behalf of the Council, and vows ferocious retribution if he harms you, it has the two surviving Councillors' signatures to give him further pause." Ebrard paused. "You're permitted to promise that we'll take no action against Cyninghithe for ten years if he helps us." You whisper to Edmund: Ebrard's pause gave him away - Edmund doubted very much that the Council would actually keep that promise. Edmund: Edmund raised his eyebrows at this. "I wonder if he will buy that..." sd: "Sell it," Ebard said bluntly. Beomund: "If he resents the Chief, then he'll have reason to listen, at least," said Beomund, despite his own concerns. sd: "The Soiled Sisters will take you on a ship and land you somewhere nearby, one of their Nighthawks used to be a pirate and is familiar with hidden coves and rocky coastlines. The rest of their fleet is going to sail off in advance towards Morricestre to draw any ships from the Chief or from Cyninghithe away from the area." sd: "One of the Handmaidens will be on the ship with you," he added. "She's to be absolutely kept out of danger unless it's unavoidable - she can keep in touch with us and with the rest of the fleet through her astral projection, though I believe you have a spell that can do something similar if circumstances warrant it." sd: "You leave in the morning in two days, so if you want any information in the mean time come and find me. Otherwise, I'll be preparing the defences. Until you have a solid idea of where the Chief is, we're not going to make any significant moves - your friend Erlene and others are scouting across the river trying to find him but it's like trying to take hold of mist," said Ebrard. Beomund: After congratulating Ebrard on his position, Beomund took his leave to mentally prepare for entering goblin territory, and to rest from previous exertions. Edmund: Edmund also left, to work on his performance as Eansige the Mercenary. Edmund: When they were alone he mentioned that the Council's promise was not worth the paper it was written on. "At least Ebrard believes they will not keep it." Beomund: Beomund grimaced. "I suppose that's to be expected. But I trust you can be convincing in any case." sd: "Well of course not," Synne said with a shrug. "The Council want to reclaim all the land east of the river, why would they let goblins keep some of it?" Edmund: "It would be useful not to turn them back into yet another group of enemies," Edmund considered. "Perhaps they could be encouraged to resettle somewhere else." sd: "If someone came to me and said they were the ambassador of a hostile government and that they think I should resettle somewhere else, I'd get my sword." Synne sniffed. Edmund: "Well that's the problem," Edmund said with a half-smile, "We have to work out how to create a future for humans here in Palania where they aren't constantly being menaced by monsters. If there was a way to make peace with any of them, would that not be the better way than constant war with all of them? sd: "We'll have peace with goblins and orcs when they're very, very fucking far away," Synne responded. "Although if anyone could talk the goblins into this kind of nonsense it would be you." Synne glanced at the name of the goblin king written on the note. "I think I'd rather fucking kill them than learn have to say that." King Gáivvaš of Cyninghithe was written upon the page. Edmund: Edmund leaned accross and read it aloud, rolling the sounds round his mouth in a passable immitation of a goblin. sd: Ebrard had one of his men come by to tell them how the goblin king's name was to be pronounced. The next morning the Soiled Sisters main fleet set out - considering the attitudes many of the city's defenders had when it came to women in combat positions, it was generally agreed the easiest thing was for them to fight largely separately from the rest of the army, which suited the Sisters fine. They had fifteen ships altogether, many of them warships from Gastony which the Council had requisitioned under emergency powers. The Church was, to put it mildly, unhappy to see their vessels delivered into the hands of 'pagan witches', but in the name of the war effort they had kept their objections private. There were about three hundred sailors and armsmen aboard the ships, as well as a hundred and fifty Soiled Sisters and many novices - indeed, virtually the entire Sisterhood would be sailing off, including Sidwell, Arianhod, Estra and Annis. Annis gave Edmund a long kiss as they parted. You whisper to Edmund: "Be safe, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something happened while I was too far away to protect you," Annis said with a wry smile. Edmund whispers: Edmund held her close. "Don't worry about me, I'll be doing what I do best," he said, smiling back. "You take care of yourself. I have plans for when this war is over." sd: "Try not to fail at this, given that our entire Sisterhood is being used to run a distraction for you," Sidwell said to Beomund. Beomund: "Just try not to turn your distraction into routing the enemy," replied Beomund with a smile. "We can't undermine the Chief if he's already defeated." Hogar: Hogar - who would be known as Brunwig for the mission - smiled at Beomund's joke Leofric: Leofric only looked slightly worried regarding the upcoming fights although he is looking confident as well,. sd: "It would be a terrible shame if some group of women were to win the war hastily while the brave warriors of the Virian Church stood on the sidelines," Sidwell replied. "Especially before the orcs had a chance to thin out their numbers. We'll stay in contact through Ercongota," she indicated the Handmaiden who would be accompanying the party, a short, dumpy woman in her mid-forties with greasy hair and a hooked nose. Beomund: Beomund greeted Ercongota and wished Sidwell a sincere farewell and safety as they prepared to leave. Leofric: Leofric gave a respectful greeting to Ercongota, "Pleased to meet you." He then glanced at Sidwell, and bid her farewell with no doubt that they will see each other again. Hogar: "We will do our best to do our part, and we're confident you will do the same for yours."said Hogar respectfully as they bid farewell to Sidwell and were introducd to the Handmaiden who would help them sd: the next day, it was the turn of the party to depart. They boarded a seized Gaston warship, which had apparently originally been named, with some piety, the Blood Upon the Mount, and a great masthead carved in the shape of the Star had been fitted upon it. The Sisters had painted over its Virian name and given it one more fitting - the Once-Silent Lady. A masthead in the form of a stern woman's face, cloth over her mouth and nose, had been appropriated from a merchant vessel. Ercongota had gone so far as to look for a carpenter to try to rework the figure so that the cloth was falling away, but there had not been enough time. Beomund: "A fitting name," said Beomund quietly, looking over the ship. "Many voices are now being heard." sd: they sailed out, heading initially southwest out of Phalen to fool any eyes that might be watching from east of the river. they sailed some distance to the west and then waited until nightfall before turning east. Although the Chief's forces were made up largely of creatures that could see at night, there were still human mercenaries among them, and their eyes, at least, would be worsened by the darkness. Saeward, the Nighthawk and former pirate, used his powers to allow him to see in the dark, and with great ease he was able to lead them east. Their first night consisted entirely of slipping through the leaguer of enemies, which required great care - there were in fact goblin scouts who had swam out south far from the city. Hogar was able to spot several, gripping the handle of the Darkling Axe so its magic would strengthen his eyes, and once he had seen them, he was able to discern patterns in their patrols which the Lady was able to slip through adroitly. As the sun began to rise they nearly failed, running into a small patrol which they could not easily get past, nor, due to the position of the enemy patrols, could they retreat. Hogar and Captain Saeward leapt into the water and engaged the goblins, ambushing them suddenly with some ferocity. They killed a few, then led the others back after them where they were immediately exposed to fire from Edmund and other archers on the Lady. One goblin only seemed to give them the slip, but Saeward went after him, slicing through the water like a shark, knocking the creature's weapon away and then wrapping his legs tightly around its throat. He gave a great twist, and though, as he was underwater, there was no noise, they saw the creature's neck wrench sickeningly. When it floated down to the sea floor, its head was turned almost backwards.
Following this, they sailed on. Saeward, Ercongota and Beomund all kept an eye to the skies, predicting when there would be spots of bad weather - this was actually useful to them, and when they would sail, because it was more difficult for anyone from the shore to spot them. It made for two further very rough days at sea - Hogar and Beomund went among the crew, hauling ropes, manning oars, and whatever else needed to be done to keep them on course, while Edmund alternately spoke encouragingly to the men in times of rest, and played a stern beat upon the drums when the hands were all on deck. As they came near to Cyninghithe, Leofric searched with his magic, eventually locating a sheltered cove about a half day's journey from the keep, completely sheltered by a great rocky bay where they could land unseen. sd: Ercongota came to them in the morning with the same dyed yellow clothing they had worn while infiltrating Podolplatz. "As before, you probably want to leave behind any weapons you have that are magical, and any mail armour, they'll just make you stand out," she said. "You're not supposed to fight anyone in Cyninghithe anyway." Beomund: "If only I could carry some magical trinket to remove the smell of that place," said Beomund as he picked up his disguise. "It seems it still hasn't come out." Leofric: Leofric managed to find some dirty scale armour to wear for his disguise and left all magical trinkets behind as well to his regret. Hogar: Hogar left behind his magical weapons and trinkets and had someone lend him mundane arms and armor. Beomund: Beomund unwove the spell of protection he'd laid upon them, hoping their armor would be enough to defend them. sd: Ercongota was able to go through and disguise Beomund, Edmund and Hogar in turn. Leofric's copper skin tone, however, proved much more difficult, and the Sister gave up and paced the ship, muttering. Fortunately Edmund, who had helped Sidwell to do this already, was able to take some of her equipment and do a passable job, though they suspected that if anyone were to look hard at them that they could be in danger. Edmund: "We'll have to make sure we don't attract their hard looks," Edmund said, frowning. Leofric: Leofric merely looked tired at this issue. sd: in their borrowed armour and disguises they slipped away from the Lady. Ercongota informed them that if they didn't hear back by mid-day tomorrow, they would assume the party to be dead. "If you're delayed, speak with me immediately," she said. Leofric: Leofric nodded in response, "Will do." sd: they set out in the morning, and after clambering up a cliff-face with some difficulty, they were able to make carefully for the nearest road and then made their way towards Cyninghithe, feigning to simply be another group of ruthless mercenaries en route to the fortress.
Cyninghithe had been a fortress which the victorious Gastons of Palania had built four hundred years ago, after the High King Peada had routed the remnants of the Empire in the province in battle at Morricestre, which was now the Chief's own keep. Peada himself was slain in the battle and his vassals fell to infighting, and it had been one of his most successful generals, Helpric, who had founded the keep. Helpric had been wed to one of the High King's daughters, Osburh, and he had warred to be the new High King. He had spread his influence almost to the Saltanow, but then he too was killed in battle and his lords fought to claim his seat and his bride. Osburh had fled west in disguise and sought refuge with the clans around the mouth of the Saltanow, eventually wedding a minor lord who slew Helpric's brother in a duel for her hand. From this union had sprung the Valing clan, then only one of many lords around the mouth of the river, but through this match they had claimed the blood of the old High Kings when they too ascended the throne many centuries later.
Cyninghithe was a small, squat stone keep above a high promontory, at the bottom of which lay several villages of goblins and human slaves. There were very few orcs in Cyninghithe, as King Gáivvaš found them untrustworthy, so despite their enslavement the humans of Cyninghithe were at least relatively free of the horror of the flesh-tithe. This did not render them free of other torments, however - as they were picked up by a patrol, they saw, off about half a mile east of them, on the outskirts of the town, a group of men were being put to death, their bodies lowered with torment down upon great iron spikes that impaled them through the anus. They tried to look away from this and to focus instead upon the goblin sergeant who was demanding to know their identities and their business. sd: they got the impression, at first, that the goblin sergeant had intended to try to hold out for some kind of bribe. Edmund, however, rapidly won him around. Concerned that they might examine their disguises closely, he kept up a constant stream of chatter, feigning complete disinterest and indeed amusement at the suffering of the dying men. Edmund pulled out the message that Ebrard had had written for them by his captive, however the bard quickly convinced the goblin that not only should he not read it yet, but that he was all but certain to get a promotion for his good judgement and honesty if he were to arrange to have the message passed unopened to King Gáivvaš' steward, and to impress upon him as strongly as possible the urgent need for the King to meet with them straight away. Such was the power of Edmund's words that a scarce half hour later they were being led to the keep. While Edmund kept the goblins spellbound, it was simplicity itself for Beomund to hide away the message the Council had passed them, secure and ready to be handed to the goblin leader. sd: within the tower, the party were searched and had their weapons and armour confiscated, though the note from the Council remained hidden. The King's steward, saying that His Majesty had been greatly impressed by the sergeant's recommendation and also the note from his former retainer, had agreed to a personal audience, although he would have some loyal warriors to hand, of course, and his court mage as well.
The goblin king appeared to be old by the standards of his kind. Goblins all tended to be gaunt and thin, but King Gáivvaš took this to extremes. His eyes were emeralds buried deep within his face, and his lips were sallow and cracked, as if he now drank of nothing but spite and careful calculations of power. Despite his seeming age, when he stood to great them he moved the kind of agility which among humans would have made him a fine acrobat or dancer. His court mage was a much younger goblin, with full cheeks and a head of matted hair, and he was attended also by six goblin warriors armed with curved swords. Edmund: Edmund bowed low to the king, with a sweeping grace. "We are honoured to be received by your majesty." Beomund: Beomund kept up his facade as Brunweard the Red, standing behind Edmund with a mild sneer on his face, though he mimicked his bow. Hogar: Hogar stood beside Beomund with a sneer and posture not much dissimilar and greeted the king likewise Leofric: Leofric bowed as well toward the king sd: the goblin king gave the smile of a cat which had spotted a sleeping mouse as a servant entered from a side room, bearing a golden carafe and four flue-like glasses, tall and slender as goblinkind. "When I meet chewer mercenaries such as yourselves, I like to get an idea of their mettle," said the king. "Drink." The servant poured out the liquid. It was white and thick as cream, but shot through with red veins. sd: the party drank deeply, and the goblin king looked on as if in expectation. The drink was thick, cloying, and incredibly strong - they doubted that goblins normally drank it from such large glasses, but perhaps the king wanted them drunk. They all felt the room begin to spin but they fought hard and mastered themselves. The king seemed almost disappointed, and even more so when Leofric calmly asked for another glass and drained it clean. Edmund: "An interesting taste," Edmund said in the soft, insinuating voice he had assumed as part of his Eansige persona. Beomund: After draining his glass, Beomund gave a long belch. "Strong stuff," he said casually. Hogar: "Not bad."said Hogar patting his belly sd: "It's made of fermented mare's milk, combined with certain types of blood - horse and human, specifically. Our shamans thicken it to give it a stronger and more distinctive flavour. A great delight, although at my age I don't indulge often anymore" said the king. "So. You have come to offer me your swords?" Edmund: "We have come to offer you something you will find useful," Edmund said. "Brunweard, give the king the letter." Beomund: Beomund reached behind him and beneath the back of his tunic, and pulled out the paper, which he brought forward carefully to be passed to the king. sd: the king's shaman handed him the message while Gáivvaš reached lazily for a knife to break the seal. He began to slide it along, then paused as he saw exactly what seal was upon the message. He stopped and looked at them hard. "Hmm. My guards need their eyes put out, it seems. I could earn a great amount of gold and an even greater amount of favour if I killed you and sent your heads to the Chief." Edmund: Edmund smiled coolly. "Perhaps you should read the letter first." sd: the guards had tensed and one began to draw his sword, but the king gave him a sharp wave of his hand. He cut through the seal of the Council and read the message, which took him only a few seconds. "That is a very amusing threat, albeit the Council of Palania should perhaps have considered that there is a very great army between Caragtown and here. Or is that risible fleet that passed by yesterday meant to be your avenging force if I have your cocks nailed up on my gates? Hmph. Very well, Edmund of Malagen, speak with your masters' voice. What do you want?" sd: despite the contempt in his voice, the king was clearly taken aback and they doubted he would actually harm them, even if he did not listen to their message Edmund: Edmund dropped his act and spoke with his most honest voice. "It is true that Goblins and Men have, shall we say, a mixed history. But we have met your people before and we know that there are times when we can work together. What will your people gain from serving the Orcs in this war?" sd: "Yes, there are times when we can work together," the king replied harshly. "Specifically, in realms like mine, and that of the Chief - who, you may have noted, is not an orc, but a human - goblins, orcs, and humans live side by side. Not all free, not all happy, but then none of us would be free, or alive, if we tried to settle on our own west of the river." King Gáivvaš hissed. "You Virians think you are better than we are, with your doctrines of killing anything that moves and is not human. Palanian Gastons are scarcely any better, save those that have learned under our rule in the last century. I don't like the Chief, as I've told him to his face, but if he wins then at least I won't have to listen to nonsense from emissaries like you, and my people will not have to live next door to folk who won't allow us to live amongst them, but will welcome foreigners who preach that..." the king paused, then glanced at his shaman, who stood forward and spoke.
"'Humanity are the children of God, and He granted us stewardship of the Earth and rule over the beasts of the field. The monstrous races are abominations,'" the shaman paused and spat before resuming his quotation, "'created by men when they rejected the will of God by wielding magic. It is the duty of all Virians to struggle against these abominations, and restore control of the Earth to the children of God, who alone can follow the Virian Way.'" Edmund: Edmund sighed. "It is true that we are Virians, but not all of us see the world in the same way. When I was in Malagen, I had never spoken with anyone who was not human, any more than I had seen the good, and the ill, that Magic can work. I was like a child, but now I am learning that the world is more complex and less easy to divide into pure good and evil. I am no theologian, as you can tell, but I believe that God expects us to learn, to use our intelligence and our judgement. You don't live as we do, but you are not beasts and in some ways the evil that you do is not much different from the evil that men are capable of." Hogar is disconnected. sd: "I see. Evil is something that I 'do' but you are 'capable of'. Hmph. Fortunately for you, chewer, I care little for notions of good or evil, beyond being amused by hypocrites who imagine themselves noble heroes while committing indiscriminate slaughter. At least when I have people butchered or tortured its for an aim that gains me something other than feelings of sanctimony. So - you want me to turn against the Chief, yes? Why should I do that? If the Council wins their war, then sometime down the road they'll come battering at my gates as well." Hogar has connected. sd: "I see. Evil is something that I 'do' but you are 'capable of'. Hmph. Fortunately for you, chewer, I care little for notions of good or evil, beyond being amused by hypocrites who imagine themselves noble heroes while committing indiscriminate slaughter. At least when I have people butchered or tortured its for an aim that gains me something other than feelings of sanctimony. So - you want me to turn against the Chief, yes? Why should I do that? If the Council wins their war, then sometime down the road they'll come battering at my gates as well." Edmund: "It's true that the current members of the Council probably have in mind that sooner or later they will come against you. But there are changes, even in membership of the Council." Edmund gave a slight smile. " So, suppose the Chief wins - you think he gives a damn about Goblins? But you know him better than we do - so you must trust him enough to follow him. And suppose he loses. What will happen to you and your people then? " sd: "Well I imagine there are changes in the membership of the Council, there's only two signatures on this threat and that means that three of the five must be dead. That suggests to me that the Chief is winning. And I don't trust the Chief enough to follow him, that's why my people are here and not in Caragtown. I'd rather the Chief won than you did, but I'd still rather that you both slaughtered one another and then I don't have to deal with an overgrown bastard who imagines themselves to be my rightful overlord next door to me." Edmund: "I don't believe that humans as a race can never learn to live in peace with the other races. There must be advantages we can offer each other," Edmund said intently. sd: the king looked down at Edmund and laughed. "I've been told the 'heroes of Phalen' are so insufferably noble and heroic that they undertake long quests for redemption every time they take a piss, but I'm pleased to see it confirmed. As I said, of course humans as a race can learn to live in peace with other races, some of you already have in the villages below. You just can't be in charge, because you're far more bloodthirsty and vile than goblins or orcs." the king smiled. "I don't like the Chief. I don't like you either. I'm not going to lift a finger to help you...at the moment. If you can do something for me, then maybe I'll change my mind, and it will be good for your soul to have to follow a goblin's commands, the way you humans were made to do. Is that acceptable?" Edmund: "If it is within our power to aid you, we will," Edmund said. His eyes were clear and unashamed, even though the Goblin king was trying so hard. "Unlike some, we do keep our promises, but we will expect the same of you." sd: "That's very fair and high-minded of you," said the goblin king. He propped his head up wearily for a moment in a spindly hand. "The Chief has left a camp where some of his men are encamped about three days northwest of here, south of Longroad which used to be Midhope. There are perhaps a hundred fighters there and a sizeable supply depot. It's right on the roads between Caragtown in the west and on the one hand Longroad and Witchfort to the north, and Chiefkraag and Docktown to the east. It's quite an important post. I think he left it there specifically to try to provoke me, especially given that the woman he chose as its commander, Theberga, used to be my court witch, until she decided to rob me and go and serve the Liche instead." Beomund: "And you wish us to sabotage the depot?" asked Beomund. sd: "I want you to burn it down, kill everyone there, particularly Theberga, and return to me the ivory sceptre which she stole from me. Of course even such mighty heroes as yourselves can't defeat an entire camp by yourself, but fortunately I have in mind someone who will probably prove quite easy to persuade to do so and he has men who can help you. Are some of you part of the Conclave? I remember hearing that from someone." Beomund: "Indeed," replied Beomund simply. sd: "Theberga is a defector from your organisation, she was one of your warlocks, some forty years ago or so," said Gáivvaš. "About two years ago she was my court witch, as I said. At the time I had a mercenary serving me, a human man called Herelaf. Whatever her age Herelaf wanted to be able to brag that he'd put his parts into the court witch so he kept pestering her endlessly with propositions. Eventually she got so annoyed that she cursed him with a stench so foul I had to exile him and I gave him some land where he could train troops that I wouldn't have to smell. He eventually begged Theberga to lift the curse, so she gave him a potion which would do just that. Which it did, but it did other things too, and apparently since he drank that potion there are certain parts of Herelaf that no longer function as they should. He blamed me for the business and since then he's not ever sent tribute, I should have had him killed as an example but I've had more pressing matters to attend to than him and his fifty men, and sometimes people like him can be useful as long as you steer them in the right direct. If you go and remind him that the woman who caused his mighty spear to shatter is camped only half a day to the north of his keep, then he might work up the courage to go and do something about it with his soldiers." sd: *direct = direction sd: it was clear enough to Hogar what the king's plan was - though he sought to distract them with this colourful tale and desire for revenge on a Conclave renegade, his actual purpose was strategic. The Council wanted the Chief's forces at the front in East Phalen, where they could be decisively confronted in a significant engagement, to be followed up swiftly by an attempt to seize the whole of the lands of Estensalt. An attack on the Chief's rear supply lines would disrupt matters and cause his forces to spread out, which would prolong the conflict. Some of his vassals might even return home against this threat on their backlines. The king's likely aim was to ensure relatively few casualties on the monstrous side, which would reduce the Council's chances in any later campaign, while also making the fall of the Chief more likely. sd: "So that is my price, anyhow," said the king. "If you don't have the stomach for it, then you can leave and I'll pretend you were never here. Otherwise, well...bring me my sceptre, and then perhaps I'll actually commit some forces to this campaign.
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Post by sleepingdragon on Jul 8, 2017 18:15:25 GMT
sd: "So that is my price, anyhow," said the king. "If you don't have the stomach for it, then you can leave and I'll pretend you were never here. Otherwise, well...bring me my sceptre, and then perhaps I'll actually commit some forces to this campaign." Edmund: "I am prepared to do this, but 'perhaps' isn't good enough," Edmund looked to the others for their support. "We help you, you help us, that's the deal." Leofric: Leofric narrowed his eyes and nodded once, agreeing with Edmund Hogar: Hogar said nothing but obviously supported Edmund's decision - they had to go along with the goblin's king plan, after all Beomund: Beomund likewise didn't show much in the way of reaction, but his agreement with Edmund was understood. Hogar is disconnected. sd: "As you wish," Gáivvaš shrugged. "To be more specific then - if you bring me my sceptre and raze the supply camp, I'll commit my soldiers to a raid on Chiefkraag. Is that good enough for you? That will destroy any possibility I could ever reconcile with the Chief, and commit me to the fight in the long term." You whisper to Edmund: the king seemed to be telling the truth, so far as Edmund could tell Hogar has connected. sd: "As you wish," Gáivvaš shrugged. "To be more specific then - if you bring me my sceptre and raze the supply camp, I'll commit my soldiers to a raid on Chiefkraag. Is that good enough for you? That will destroy any possibility I could ever reconcile with the Chief, and commit me to the fight in the long term." Edmund: Edmund watched the King very carefully, and seemed to relax slightly. "It's good. We will destroy the camp and bring you your sceptre. And in the long term we will try to find a solution to the question of how your people and our people can live in the same land without massacring each other." sd: "I already told you that solution, make a goblin your king," said Gáivvaš. "But I imagine you mean a solution where your people are in charge, and there isn't one of those. But so be it, I can always fight you another day." Hogar is disconnected. Hogar has connected. sd: "If you had any questions, chewers, now is your time to ask them," the king said. "If you do actually return then I'll be rather occupied." Edmund: "What do you know of the Chief?" Edmund asked. "He is human, yes? So why do Orcs and Goblins follow him?" sd: "The Chief is one of you, yes. I think so, anyhow. I've met him twice and he was wearing different skin each time, so it's hard to say for certain. Human skin each time, certainly, and whenever he's been clearly seen he's in a particular form - human, male, older than you, scarred. And as for why - orcs especially, and goblins as well, will follow someone who's strong and can win them loot. The Chief killed the orc king at what's now Chiefkraag with his bare hands, and Praguuz had an axe and his armour. If you're brave enough to try something like that, and strong enough to have it succeed, you can get folk to follow you." Edmund: "Do you know anything of his history, where he came from?" Edmund asked. sd: "Every form he's ever shown has scars all over his back. He was a slave, I think, and fought or bought his way out. Not that he's had any issue with the slavers - the raiders on the southern coasts are some of the first people he won over. That fleet of yours that went east yesterday is probably going to be getting acquainted with them shortly, which is all fine with me as it'll mean fewer of them if I do end up attacking Chiefkraag." sd: "I've met the man twice," the king added, "and there's something unnatural in his eyes. I had my shaman here do a check on him - I wanted to know if he was an ordinary mage like Theberga. I don't think he is. However it is he changes form, it's not through sorcery of the sort your Conclave or our shamans learn." Leofric: Leofric frowned for a moment, racking his mind, "I see... What about his accent? Sound Palanian?" sd: "Yes, he's from this country, not yours, though I had a hard time placing it. I've had sellswords tell me there are different regional accents but you chewers all mumble like you have chunks stuck in your teeth." Leofric: Leofric nodded, satisfied that he had his answer. sd: "The one who knows most about the Chief is clearly the Liche, but I could scarcely have got anything out of that skeleton. They're both in Caragtown, I think. If you're lucky maybe Theberga knows something her master told her." Edmund: "We'll make sure we ask her," Edmund said with a grim smile. Hogar is disconnected. Hogar is disconnected. Leofric: Leofric smiled even more grimly "Yes." Only promising death for ex Conclave in his dark eyes sd: the king paused. "I may as well tell you one thing as I remember it. When I first met the Chief I offered him a fine sword - curved in the goblin style, I had my best swordsmith working all day for a week to make sure it was ready on time. Cost me a fucking fortune. When I tried to give it to him, he refused it and said he was still looking for his sword. I didn't know what he meant at the time. I still don't exactly, though I could guess what sword it is he wants from how he's calling himself the High King." Hogar has connected. sd: the king paused. "I may as well tell you one thing as I remember it. When I first met the Chief I offered him a fine sword - curved in the goblin style, I had my best swordsmith working all day for a week to make sure it was ready on time. Cost me a fucking fortune. When I tried to give it to him, he refused it and said he was still looking for his sword. I didn't know what he meant at the time. I still don't exactly, though I could guess what sword it is he wants from how he's calling himself the High King." Hogar is disconnected. Hogar has connected. Beomund: "It's an arrogant man who refuses a fine sword for a symbolic one. Though I suppose he feels his hands are enough," said Beomund. You have disconnected. Server started; please wait for map to refresh. Leofric has connected. Beomund has connected. Hogar has connected. Edmund has connected. sd: it's up sd: "Anyhow, you should be heading for Herelaf's hall. Stay here for a moment and I'll have one of my men forge an introductory note from another captain I know he's worked with before. Don't breathe a word to Herelaf about how you came here, or our deal is off and at any rate he won't cooperate with you if he thinks this is what I want." Edmund: "Of course," Edmund said. sd: a short time later one of the king's servants returned with the note. He handed this to Edmund, then took the message from the Council and burned it. "My guards will show you out. If you could simulate some kind of argument about money with them at the gate that would be appreciated. Don't go over the top, I don't want any attention being paid to it, just for it to seem that your price was too high for my liking." Edmund: Edmund smiled. "I'm sure we can manage that." sd: after feigning an argument with the guards they hastily beat a retreat from Cyninghithe and made their way back towards the Lady. While speaking with the king and his guards in the time it took for their forged note to be made, they had learned enough to indicate that Herelaf did not have a mage in his court, and indeed, disliked mages immensely, and therefore it was most likely safe for them to return to the ship and recover their magical gear. Edmund: Edmund indicated they should talk together alone. Beomund: Beomund gathered with the others. "This plan could make things harder if the Chief's forces spread out." Edmund: "Indeed," Edmund frowned. "We must find a way to do his dirty work without giving him any advantages." Hogar: "And of course the king know this and wants as few losses for himself and the other goblins and orcs as possible. This could mean making future efforts against them much harder."said Hogar gravely Leofric: "Nevertheless, if this mean we can kill the Chief, a snake cannot live without its head after all." Leofric commented Leofric: He added afterward, "It might worth getting Ercongota to get in touch with Ebrand regarding this." sd: Ercongota was narrowly within range of being able to reach Phalen with her power, so she agreed to do this. "Say what you want and I'll pass it on," she said, before manifesting her power. Her eyes went white as she sat cross-legged on the deck of the Lady Beomund: Beomund suggested that she relay to Ebrand their suspicions about the Goblin King's reason for helping them, and the challenge the spreading of the Chief's forces might pose to their campaign. sd: Ercongota nodded slowly. After a few minutes she spoke. "Ebrard says he's not surprised by this," she relayed. "It's what he'd do if he were the King. The goblin obviously doesn't trust the Council to not attack him later, even though the note promised a ten year truce." Ercongota paused, then continued on with a smile. "It sounds like the goblin was wise to do so. Ebrard's just admitted that rather than waste time trying to argue with them that they should be willing to negotiate with a goblin, Ebrard just had one of his men forge the Councillors' signatures. He kept a copy of the note back with him, and once we were too far away to catch he showed it to them. Apparently Rypan and Hothbeorht are rather wroth with him." She paused again. "Ebrard says that if you're willing to try, you might simply try to sneak into the camp, kill Theberga, and try to take anything she might have which would indicate where the Chief is. He won't order you to do that though, if there are a hundred soldiers there. He says it's better to do what the goblin asked, whatever the drawbacks, than try to fight the campaign without his help." Edmund: "We may find ways to alter the outcome while we are doing so," Edmund said thoughtfully. Beomund: "Perhaps as we approach we will be able to determine better whether a stealthy approach could work," said Beomund. Hogar: "I think we should at least seriously consider sneaking in."said Hogar "We have made compromises in the past, but for once, I think we should take the riskier option for the greater good, instead of working with monsters." Edmund: "If we can succeed without the Goblin King's aid, maybe," Edmund said. "But if not we may have to go ahead with the attack. What about Herelaf? Will we speak to him or not?" Beomund: "Speaking him could ruin any chance of stealth, if he gets it into his head to attack. It seems we must decide whether to approach on our own. If it's possible, I agree with Hogar that it seems the best choice, for the good of all the monsters' slaves." Leofric: Leofric frowned for a moment, "Well, it would be quite helpful to have some help while attacking this kind of fort, especially with a commander who is also ex Conclave mage as well. We don't know for sure what kind of enemies facing us, it could even have many undeads as well on top of a hundred soldiers." Leofric commented. Edmund: "If we choose the stealthy way and fail, we will be unable to continue with an attack," Edmund said. Leofric: "Well, a failure in this context would mean our death" He added with a hint o gloominess Beomund: "Isn't that often the way of it?" said Beomund. "We could scout out the depot, and if infiltration looks impossible switch to the original plan." Leofric: Leofric nodded for a moment, "That does sound like a wise course of action." He replied. Edmund: "If we take her out by stealth, there will be no help from the Goblins," Edmund said. sd: Ercongota passed this to Ebrard. "Unless you can do that quickly, he's concerned about the delay. You'd need to go to the depot, and, if you decided not to infiltrate, make your way back to Herelaf, get him onside, then return back to the depot." Edmund: "How long will it take to get to the camp?" sd: the camp was perhaps a day away by foot, and Herelaf's keep a half day away from that - there would be a delay of perhaps a day or longer if they scouted out the camp and then decided to take up the original plan Leofric: Leofric raised an idea, "What about using scrying to see the camp ahead That would cut down the amount of time it take to travel?" Beomund: "If you can do so safely, that would help us decide, I think," said Beomund. sd: Ercongota ended her power - Ebrard could no longer wait to speak with them, and left it to the party's judgement to decide what to do, with a recommendation that they should go along with the goblin king's plan unless they were absolutely certain they could manage to kill Theberga themselves. Leofric therefore cast his spell, and sent his senses out to scout the encampment You whisper to Leofric: his eyes flew out over the miles. he sped over the hills around Cyninghithe, passing a dozen hamlets and slave plantations, before reaching the edge and soon coming to the camp.
It was a square encampment, surrounded on each side by a ten foot wide ditch and a strong wooden pallisade. The buildings were all of wood, draped with wet animal skins to protect against fire, and there were many hide tents as well. There were three wooden towers on the west, east, and northern walls, and in the centre of the encampment was a large, rectangular wooden building, about thirty feet high, and two to three hundred feet wide on each side. This was presumably the command headquarters where Theberga herself would be found.
Watching for a time, he noticed to his surprise that despite being an encampment held by a subordinate of the Liche, there were no undead present. The composition of the guard was, in fact, about half human, with a further thirty or forty orcs and goblins, and also a dozen or so cyclopes. From the patterns he saw, the human guards were kept nearer the centre - perhaps Theberga, having grown up in free Palania, found it easier to deal with her own kind. She always had two large cyclopes on guard at the main door to the headquarters, and he spied another two through the large double doors inside the headquarters itself. Leofric: Leofric whistled at the sights before him and relayed what he saw, "It is a square fort, surrounded by ten foot wide ditch, supported by a wooden pallisade, a tower north, east and west. The buildings themsleves are covered with damp animals skin to make them fireproof and there are many hide tents inside. There is in the middle a large solid building, a ground floor and first floor. Thankfully, there is no undead and the force seems to be half human with forty or so orcs and goblins. The humans are close to the main building. The main building itself is two large cyclopes on the main door and another two inside through the doors." He said so You whisper to Leofric: he spent some time looking into the headquarters there. Within, he could see a large, wide area, guarded by two cyclopes. Two sets of wooden steps led up to a balcony and the next level, where there was a very large wooden table covered in various maps and notes. There were two side rooms containing many large crates full of supplies and equipment, and at the rear of the great chamber were two small alcoves where kegs were located. Altogether Leofric counted eighteen people within the large headquarters, and indeed all of these were human save for the cyclopes on the door and an additional two guarding the steps up to the balcony. A woman who was presumably Theberga sat at the head of the table, speaking with another woman. Hogar: "Impressive defences."said Hogar "But we do not have to destroy the camp and kill all the soldiers - merely to deal with Theberga." Leofric: He followed it up with "I had a look inside the headquarter and there is eighteen people inside and I can see what presumable Theberga, speaking with another woman" You whisper to Leofric: he watched the two women talking for some time. for about ten minutes their talk was about ordinary logistical matters - the goblins on the docks were running low on wine rations, the orcs near Tarnemuthe were getting bored and needed slaves to keep them entertained, and so on. eventually, however, they began to speak of 'master', which clearly meant the Liche.
Leofric could only make out some of the words the two women spoke, but he was able to discern certain facts at least - it was clear that 'Master' and the Chief were working extremely closely together, and were in near proximity, and eventually he was able to discern the word 'Phalen' on Theberga's lips. Words such as 'below' were regularly repeated. Casting his eye over the table, he realised the maps were not all of the present day - there were many maps of old Phalen, in its various eras - the Phalen of the Valings was the most prominent, the great capital city of Palania at its height. There were other maps however - Phalen prior to the rise of the Valing High Kings, when they were but one clan and their rebuilt city just one contending with Tarnemuthe, Middlemere, Bluebrycg, Morricestre and others for dominion. There were maps of the Alanian Phalen, when it had been the great outpost of a far flung empire. Many of these maps had markings upon them, and, he thought, these would correspond to where buildings might lie today, in the various levels of the Undercity. Leofric: Leofric can only make out few words but basically the Liche and the Chief are working very closely together. There are few logistical matters such as the orcs near Tarnemuthe are getting bored and so on. There are lot of maps on the table which could be really useful for the Undercity." Edmund: "Well worth breaking in then," Edmund grinned. Leofric: Leofric only smiled in response, Beomund: "A benefit to the stealthy path, then - though the documents might be saved with either route." You whisper to Leofric: a few times in their conversation Leofric caught sight of a notebook which Theberga kept in her pocket, which she patted once as if checking to make sure it was still there. He caught a few more words here and there - with alarm he realised words such as 'portal', 'summon' and 'demons' were quite prominent amongst them. Having now grown used to watching the conversation, he was able to catch one sentence particularly clearly.
"Will they answer?" the apprentice said. "The Forerunner seal is strong."
"They'll throw all they can at the portal," Theberga replied. "When their master's voice calls to them, they will have no choice."
The apprentice was clearly trying to pry information out of Theberga out of some sense of jealousy or just simple interest, and the woman appeared to have guessed she had already said more than she intended. At one point she pulled the notebook out and flipped to a page, as the apprentice tried to press her for more information about the portal. Theberga gave her nothing but a stern glance, but as she did Leofric was able to move his scrying receptor around behind her shoulder to see what was written upon the page.
UTTEREST UNDERCITY read a heading. There were a number of paragraphs of speculation about how this place might be accessed, but eventually concluded that catacombs beneath the ancient Temple of Osildara in East Caragtown was the surest route. There were several layers of the Undercity, Leofric knew, which corresponded to the settlements of the old Gastons, before the dragon's attack, and the city of the Alanians. Beneath these levels lay a small and older settlement, one that had only lain on the eastern bank of the river, and had been a settlement of the Forerunners, some eight or nine hundred years ago, before the Alanians were even a rumour in this land. Apparently the tribe who had lived there had turned to the worship of a terrible demon, until one of their number, in remorse and shame, turned on his kin and slew them, then sealed the demon's minions behind a great portal. There were symbols there in Alanian which indicated the dreaded name of the demon, and Leofric's lore gave him knowledge of which entity these referred to.
ARKAVESHIRAZIDOR it read. Hogar: "Could they? I think we're better off taking them personally." Leofric: Leofric withdrew his sense and returned to be among his peers and swore for a long moment. He then explained what he saw. Edmund: "Demons from the Undercity!" Edmund was aghast. "Warnings must be sent to the watch immediately." Beomund: "Another demonic threat... grim news," said Beomund. "And yes - especially if we are planning to take risks here, the Watch must know about this." Leofric: Leofric nodded, "This demon we heard before as well, the one who took the soul of the final Valings...." Hogar: "I did not expect this at all. I thought only undead would be involved."said Hogar, worried Edmund: "At least they don't appear to be infesting the camp," Edmund said with a sigh. Edmund: edit* "At least THEY don't appear to be infesting the camp," Edmund said with a sigh. Leofric: Leofric nodded, "Well, it seems that the Chief might be that person, Cynefrith?" Edmund: "Possessed by the demon?" Edmund asked in a slightly strained voice. Edmund: "Thanks be to God we broke his sword!" Hogar: "if that is the case, his soul did not find the peace we hoped. " Leofric: Leofric closed his eyes for a moment and nodded, "At least we manage to figure who he is and what is his plan and his powers explained by the demon prince. Let get in touch with Ebrard on this." Edmund: Edmund nodded. Leofric: Lepofric gestured and casted his spell of telepathy and include all of them. sd: "What is it? I told Ercongota you could make the decision yourself after you'd scouted the place," Ebrard thought at them after a brief moment. "I never thought becoming leader of an army would entail talking to people in my head or appearing in front of me in spectral form..." he added. Leofric: Leofric replied, ".... I did scouted the place via scrying and I came away with results far more than I hope. We now know who and what the Chief is and his aim." Leofric went into a deep discussion on the Chief, demon prince and the terrible plan that is brewing under the Uddercity itself. Leofric: EDIT: Undercity! sd: "By the fucking Gods," Ebrard thought back when Leofric had finished. "A demon prince is possessing one of the Valings?" he paused for a long time. "I'm glad we have you with us because I don't even know how to begin with this. Forget attacking the camp - you already have what we need. Come back to Phalen immediately - we'll throw everything we have at them, above ground and below, so that you can get into the Temple of Osildara and down into the Undercity with Deoneath and a squad of my best Watchmen." Leofric: Leofric nodded mentally, "We will, I will pass on the message to the Captain." sd: they passed on the message and prepared to sail out at once. As it happened, it was now late enough at night that they did not make much progress, and under daylight it was wisest to take cover and wait for darkness before moving on. So it was that in the morning, as they stood speaking to Ercongota on the deck, they were surprised when the spectral form of Sidwell suddenly appeared in their midst. Leofric: Leofric eyed Sidwell and beckoned a welcome to her. "Greetings. How's things? We just finished our task here" He frowned with concern, sd: "That was faster than I was anticipating, which is very positive. I thought I'd only be speaking to Ercongota today and you'd have to find some way to catch up with them. I have a message from the Handmaidens. We've managed to lose most of the Chief's fleet, and we're now sailing hard for the slave port at Docktown," said Sidwell. "Ercongota, the Handmaidens order the Lady to sail east and join us as quickly as possible. We're going to raze that abomination and rescue as many women as we can or perish in the attempt." sd: just FYI, my OOC is locked up atm, I'm still getting your messages but can't post Leofric: Leofric said, "We are in a bit of a pickle." He explained the whole situation to Sidwell regarding the Chief and the potential demon invasion. sd: "There is presumably something already stopping the Chief from activating this portal, or he'd have done it already," Sidwell pointed out. "The Handmaidens are utterly committed to this course of action, even if the Council expressly forbids us from following through with it. The people at Docktown are going to be taken on ships to the south and east - out of Palania, out into lands from which there is no hope of ever rescuing them. There's a particularly large number due to be sent because a number of masters were afraid of a revolt like the one at Podolplatz while the war is ongoing. We're in part responsible for this situation and we owe it to these people to do everything we can to save them." sd: "You four aren't Soiled Sisters, you can go west if that's where your duty calls," said Sidwell. She looked at Edmund. "But I was told to give you a message particularly. All the Soiled Sisters and our novices will be on the frontline of this battle. We can't guarantee anyone's safety, and that includes Annis."
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Post by sleepingdragon on Jul 15, 2017 16:48:41 GMT
sd: "You four aren't Soiled Sisters, you can go west if that's where your duty calls," said Sidwell. She looked at Edmund. "But I was told to give you a message particularly. All the Soiled Sisters and our novices will be on the frontline of this battle. We can't guarantee anyone's safety, and that includes Annis." Edmund: Edmund sighed. "Annis and I both understand that we must serve when and where our duty calls. I will pray for her, and for the rest of you, to return safely." Leofric: Leofric glanced at Edmund with understanding determination and clasped Edmund's armoured shoulder in understanding before letting it go Edmund is disconnected. Edmund has connected. sd: Sidwell nodded. "Fewer Sisters will return, but more people, and that will be enough." She paused. "My orders were to instruct the crew of the Lady to come east with their ship, regardless of what you did, but in these circumstances I imagine I'll be able to persuade the Handmaidens that you have need of it. One more ship is unlikely to make a significant difference in this attack." Edmund: "Our thanks for this," Edmund said with a bow. Hogar: "We will do our best to ensure it's worth it."said Hogar, appreciating Sidwell's concession Leofric: Leofric also gave this thanks, "Thank you, Sidwell." He said, "May you be victorious in freeing them." sd: "We will. Good luck, and I hope we all live through this." Sidwell's apparition shimmered and faded. Beomund: Beomund looked reluctant not to help the Sisters on this venture, but was resigned to what they must do. "It seems every day there are new threats to face." Leofric: "At least we can make sure that there is somewhere that Sisters can return to when they come back." Leofric confirmed his feelings Edmund: "We cannot afford to lose Phalen," Edmund said, with passion. Beomund: Beomund nodded silently, whispering a prayer for the Sisters and the people they would try to save. sd: they remained sheltered in a cove throughout the day, awaiting nightfall before they set off again. partway through the day, however, they received another mesage, this one speaking directly into their minds. "Ebrard told me to contact you," said Sigrun, sounding somewhat wary. "Firstly to hammer out when you'll be back, but also because he thought you'd have more trust for the rest of this message if I was in on it as well." Leofric: Leofric nodded his surprise, "We are on our way back, Sigrun. Maybe about three days if we are luckly." He mentally thought back, "Well, it can't get any worse...." sd: a new voice spoke. "General Ebrard is under the impression that if I were to contact you without a Conclave intermediary, you might think I was doing something devious. Apparently he thinks we don't trust each other. Can you believe that?" the thoughts were those of Ealdorman Heorot. Edmund: "Bloody Bluebrycg," Edmund muttered to himself, not allowing his thought to be heard by the devious Ealdorman. Hogar: Hogar kept his mind as still as possible, following Edmund's example. He obviously wasn't too pleased however Leofric: Leofric merely replied with ultimate courtesy, "I can't imagine why, Ealdorman. I take my last sentence back. So, what it is you wish to say?" sd: "When I set out to come to Phalen to join this campaign I brought some arcane texts which I recently acquired. I suspected, rightly as you've proven, that this 'Chief' was a person of magical power, and of course there is the Liche there as well. Since General Ebrard will be sending you, and only you, to destroy these villains, then he felt it was wise that I should relay on to you what information I've been able to glean from these tomes. I'd let you read them yourself but sadly you're not here and there isn't the time. Personally I'm unsure this will work - Sigrun can't keep you here forever and I'll only be able to summarise what I've read, and unfortunately with texts of such intricate natures this is not really sufficient. Still, there will be a smaller risk of you dying if you have some of this information than none of it." sd: "I haven't finished reading all of it, so I will be commanding Sigrun to contact you in the same way for the next two days as well as I read more. For now, however, I should begin to instruct you before this spell expires. Shall we start?" You whisper to Edmund: it was clear to Edmund that, although Heorot intended to share what he had learned honestly, he was very contemptuous of them and their ability to comprehend him. Furthermore, he suspected the Ealdorman would not be at all upset if they failed in their task. When he referenced Ebrard's intention to send the party alone after the Chief, the impression of disbelief in Heorot's mind was palpable. Edmund suspected the deceitful Ealdorman, while he would faithfully serve to the letter of his oath, would not consider it to be treason if he were to send some of his own men after the Chief, ahead of the party, so that the glory of killing the Chief would go to Bluebrycg and not the foreigners he despised. Edmund: Edmund was frowning now. "Heorot will share the information, but he has no faith in us and our ability to deal with the Chief. I suspect he would happily send his own men ahead of us to grab the glory of killing him. You cannot trust this bastard not to plot behind our backs." Beomund: "It's in his nature," agreed Beomund. "But I suppose there's nothing for it but to hear what he has to say for now." Edmund: "Take what we can from him, don't let him have anything from us," Edmund said. Hogar: "I am surprised. As much as I dislike the man, he is no fool, and should know we are not to be underestimated." Edmund: "He is blinded by his hatred of foreigners," Edmund sighed. Leofric: Leofric closed his eyes for a moment and just said, "Knowledge is power and if it helps us, then it is worth hearing. Shame that the bearer is just a nasty piece of work."! Edmund: "If he underestimates us, so much the better. But we should not have to deal with him as an enemy while facing so much else," Edmund was clearly holding in his fury. sd: the Ealdorman began to share his thoughts about several tomes he had just read which related to ancient demon cults and specifically to instances of the demon prince Arkaveshirazidor, and other times it had manifested within this world. Occasionally, Heorot would begin to ramble, obviously scornful of the party's ability to actually keep up with what he was describing, however Edmund and Leofric occasionally interjected, variously with flattery and with words expressing familiarity with the occult concepts Heorot was describing, and by this means they were able to glean a significant amount of information.
Arkaveshirazidor, the demon prince of torture, was an ancient and particularly dreaded demon prince. One ancient text, over a thousand years old, told of its appearance before the court of the King of the Fryderi city of Sedanta. Exactly what the court of that king of yore had seen was not recorded, because all who so much as glanced upon the form of the demon were immediately driven insane, and all present had apparently prostrated themselves before it, smashing their heads upon the stones in such ferocious terror and obeisance that they had all perished. The king alone had survived, because the demon had entered into him and taken on his body. Force of numbers were utterly useless, and even counterproductive, against such a mighty foe.
Under the possession of Arkaveshirazidor, the king of Sedanta had lived long beyond his alloted lifespan. He had been slain in battle more than once by righteous demonslayers, but each time he fell, the form of Arkaveshirazidor emerged from his shattered husk, slew those who had dared to strike its host, and then knit the king's body back together. This, seemingly, was how Cynefrith of the Valing clan had survived the century since the fall of Phalen. "Although if these texts are correct, I doubt how much of that person actually remains within the 'Chief'," the Ealdorman thought.
Arkaveshirazidor delighted in both delivering and receiving pain. Those it inhabited were forced to inflict dire torments upon themselves for the demon's amusement, and it was fond of dangling prospects of liberation and escape before their eyes, only to snatch them away in elaborate ruses that drove them further into despair. Over time, their enforced tortures gave them tremendous resistance to all pain and damage, forcing them to take on ever more extravagant means of self-destruction for the demon's pleasure.
The host of the demon would be a formidable foe in its own right, but if it were destroyed, then the demon itself would be their foe. This kind of indwelt possession did not have the same effects as true residence upon this plane had, and so they could assume that Arkaveshirazidor would possess the whole of its considerable might, rather than being seriously weakened as Tashqarrazedar had been. Particular legends repeatedly referenced that the demon had slain many foes by displaying an uncanny ability to counter their attacks, as well as tearing through armour as if it did not exist and being immune to all but magic weapons of considerable potency. sd: "I'll continue to study. Alas, I fear the tome that had the most information about the demon is the one I have already read, but there may be useful nuggets to mine elsewhere. I will speak to you again on the morrow." Ealdorman Heorot and Sigrun's voices vanished Edmund: Edmund was silent as they digested this information. Leofric: Leofric frowned with great concern, "This is easily the most dangerous and powerful enemies we fought..." Beomund: "We'll have to find every advantage we can," said Beomund, steely resolve in his voice. Hogar: "There is no alternative, after all."said Hogar "We have to at least try to defeat this thing, and perhaps give some relief to Cynefrith's soul in the process, if any trace of it still remains." sd: that night the Lady sailed again safely and took shetler a little over a day's journey from Phalen. Sigrun and Heorot contacted them again, and they were able to provide further information. They had little more to say of Arkaveshirazidor, but they had learned of the portal, and of the Chief's right-hand man, the Liche.
the original name of the Liche was uncertain, but it appeared that he had been a warlock of the Conclave some sixty years ago. Revolting against the restriction against necromancy, he was forced to flee into lands held by monstrous creatures. They would have nothing of him, but he killed many with his magic and reanimated them to become his followers. Over time he had become a mighty lord in his own right and gathered many Conclave defectors to his service. For at least twenty-five years he had been a liche, an undead mage of tremendous power. As a liche, his corpse was bound with powerful magic which was resistant to almost all damage, save that which came from a weapon which was both crafted of silver and had a blunt, crushing head such as a mace or a hammer. To close with the Liche was hardly safe, however, because his mere touch had the power to leave the target helplessly paralysed.
They learned more of the portal as well. The portal had been sealed by a hero of the Forerunners, Pasekur. Alanian legends recorded that Pasekur, like all of his tribe, had worshipped the demon, but in repetence had turned against it. Pasekur, fortunately, had not needed to face the demon itself, made manifest, and thereby he had been able to scatter and destroy the cult. He slew his own lover Unayanke, who had been turned wholly to the demon's service, and with the slain man's blood and tears he had sealed the portal that had allowed the creatures to be called back through into this world. Because Pasekur had been a member of the cult, his soul would have belonged to Arkaveshirazidor upon his death. Mortally wounded in his task, he had managed to crawl and beg for forgiveness from another nearby tribe, who the demon cult had preyed upon for many years. He persuaded them to show pity on him, and their High Priestess had scattered and bound his ashes to a now lost runestone that had lain upon the eastern bank of the Saltanow. Leofric: Leofric nodded, "Hopefully, we can deal with this evil Liche and ends its monstrous existence as well." He paused for a moment, "Still, I am glad to hear that Pasekur's soul didn't go to the demon in the end," Edmund: "It seems to me that the lesson we should learn from this is that we may have to sacrifice what is dearest to us," Edmund said, his face shadowed. Beomund: "We will know more than any who faced the demon before did, at least," said Beomund, though he too seemed grim. sd: on the third day, they came to within sight of Phalen itself in the distance. They could see that battles were ongoing, the sound of arrows carrying on the wind like the whine of a dying insect. At one point they saw a great skirmish by the river, and looking from the crow's nest they could espy the banner of the Silvered Blades in the midst of the enemy. It appeared that the Council had ordered a number of homes near to the docks to be torn down, and, working feverishly, they had had many of the sturdiest planks of wood nailed together to form a makeshift bridge which they cast across the Saltanow at a place where there had been hard fighting for some days. A force had also come up from Coelburh and Tarnemuthe, trying to pin the Chief's forces down in East Phalen.
As all this went on, Heorot continued to teach them. The EAldorman now seemed to have few insults for them, and Edmund had subtly suggested to him over the days that, given the nature of Arkaveshirazidor, General Ebrard was doubtlessly right to send only one group to slay the Chief. Any other groups sent would, in all likelihood, fail, and in dying alert the Chief that they knew where he was, as well as providing corpses for the Liche to reanimate and use against the party when they arrived.
The fortunate news was that Heorot believed that Arkaveshirazidor would have required at least a week to fully open the portal, and that therefore, so long as the party could reach the Chief in time, they would not be facing a horde of emerging demons. Heorot had managed to locate an ancient map that purported to speak of the location of the runestone where Pasekur's ashes had been scattered, some miles northwest of the Fane of Arkaveshirazidor, where the portal lay. The Ancients had commemorated the sacrifice of Pasekur by annual festival, singing songs to soothe his soul. They had believed these songs would strengthen the power of the hero's seal on the portal, until they could find a way to destroy it once and for all. Those who had touched Pasekur's Stone found sudden strength of will and character, and under the hero's protection they could face great terror and remain true to themselves. Although he was not a musical man, and was doubtful of its accuracy, the Ealdorman had even been able to locate a scroll that purported to have the tune the Ancients had played as they sang to Pasekur's Stone, and Edmund was able to prise this from him.
Beomund interrogated the man as well about the Liche. The Ealdorman of Bluebrycg shared several tales of previous battles he had heard of against such creatures, and several had spoken of particular weak spots in the negative energy spells that held the creatures together. sd: as evening drew by, the party received a new message, this one from Ebrard himself. "We're going to launch a major offensive in the night," he said. "Deoneath has already gone across the river with a half dozen of my best Watchmen." Ebrard mentally sent the party the location of the cove where Deoneath waited for them. "Meet him at first light. Ignore what's happening in the battle elsewhere - your job is to get to the Temple of Osildara and down into the Undercity. We'll be throwing everything we have at the enemy in the hopes of drawing them away from that part of the city so you can get through." Leofric: Leofric mentally replied his confirmation, "Thank you and good luck." Beomund: "We'll do what must be done," replied Beomund.\ sd: that night of 26 September 230, the party and the crew of the Lady had little sleep, because suddenly the world was aflame. To the north, on the east banks of the Saltanow, the armies of Tarnemuthe had suddenly surged forward in a night march, and they had been joined by two hundred knights under Ser Godefrid's command. The impetuous knight had set a great conflagration in the monstrous camps there, and, at the same time, the forces of Phalen had also crossed on ships near the mouth of the river. In a deliberate manoeuvre, General Ebrard had sent so many men across the river that West Phalen was only lightly manned by a small number of elite Watchmen. If he could goad the Chief into a counterattack, then the Temple would be only lightly defended.
As the sun began to rise, the Lady set sail, and landed in the sheltered cove where Deoneath was waiting for them. Six burly men waited with him, carrying spears and short bows. Deoneath himself had been awarded a new bow, captured from a ship from Suthfryd, of fine yew wood. "It's a good thing it didn't rain last night," he said casually as they disembarked. "It would have spoiled the fire attack. General Ebrard is under the impression we're likely to be facing the Liche and his like so he commanded me to bring these," one of the Watchmen laid down a heavy bundle, which was filled with fine silvered weapons which the Council had ordered the Silvered Blades to provide. "I hope none of you have suddenly started to favour glaives or tridents, because I only brought weapons that I've seen you fight with before." Leofric: Leofric smiled with grimness, "Only a bad experience with sharp end of trident from a slaver once." Beomund: Beomund gave Deoneath a thin smile. "Ready to put yourself out of a job?" sd: "You might have more," Deoneath replied to Leofric. "The Chief has seemingly gathered every slaving pirate who's raided the south coast for years under his command. I shot one two days ago. If he lives he'll slave with one eye henceforth." Deoneath smiled at Beomund. "I'm sure that once we win this campaign and the Undercity Watch is no longer needed, your man Maccus will be willng to offer me a haunch of roasted pigeon and a bed at your shelter." Edmund: "I think there will always be a job for you," Edmund said with a smile. Hogar: Hogar, who had been busy glancing at the weapons, chuckled at Deoneth's joke "Hopefully your retirement will be more pleasant than that. The city owes a huge debt to you and your men, it would have been overrun far earlier if not for your efforts." Beomund is disconnected. Beomund has connected. Leofric: Leofric glanced at the weapons and nodded, "And we will make sure that is the case." He agreed with Hogar and Edmund. sd: Deoneath pulled out an apple and took a bite as he watched the battle over his shoulder. "I suppose we need to move now," he said, glancing up at the sky. "At times like these, I wish the gods had made me more personable. If they had, I'd be in Ebrard's position, and he'd be the one going underground to face a demon. If only I had spent less time practising with my bow when I was small, and more time talking to girls." Beomund: "Trust me," said Beomund with a hint of wistfulness, "talking to girls can bring you to places you'd never expect. In any case, you'll have plenty of stories to regale women with after this." Edmund: "Indeed," Edmund agreed. "Although in my case the girl is facing her own battle," he added looking rather sad. sd: Deoneath finished his apple and flung the core into the sea. "She'll make it through, I warrant," said Deoneath. "I'm more concerned for us. But there's little point in delaying this any longer. Shall we?" sd: they went east along the coast for about a mile, then suddenly turned north. There were orcish scouts riding on wargs to try to catch any potential pincer attack from the Council, but they were expecting numbers greater than their dozen, and Edmund and Hogar were able to work out the patterns of their patrols and slip past easily.
For the first time, the party were able to see East Phalen up close. Behind the fortifications and bristling blades and arrows along the riverfront and shorelines, East Phalen, which the orcish and goblin inhabitants named instead Caragtown in honour of the great dragon, was arranged anarchically, more resembling an armed camp than a city. Different orcish and goblin tribes lay claim to particular territories and they alternately cooperated or fought with each other depending on their mood and the chances of being able to raid above or below ground. Between each camp were streets that lay in ruin. According to those who had fought in the liberation of the city fifteen years before, prior to the arrival of the armies of the Council, Phalen had more closely resembled a real city, albeit one of orcs and goblins - clearly the creatures were capable of such settlement, as the towns they had encountered in Podolplatz and Cyninghithe had civil administrations and at least resembled towns under particularly harsh human control. The arrival of Council forces in West Phalen had ended this, and only raiders and slavers had remained in the husk of the eastern city.
After passing the initial scouts, the party very nearly blundered into an orcish pack as they entered the city proper, and were forced to hastily dodge away and take cover in a ruined stable. Unfortunately, by the time they had crept out, their initial read of the monsters' patrolling patterns had been disrupted, and they had to move more cautiously now amongst the ruined streets.
The Temple of Osildara lay near the city's eastern edge. In ancient days, the Valing clan had rebuilt Phalen first upon the east bank, but in the later years when they had become High Kings of Palania they had removed to the west. Some of the most ancient lords of the Valing clan nonetheless had been buried in the Temple, though these had doubtlessly been exhumed and befouled long ago, ironically by forces now unwittingly serving the last surviving scion of that clan's line. The Temple itself was now largely ruined, its roof collapsed, leaving only an open amphitheatre and a narrow set of steps leading down. A group of eight cyclopes were stationed near the entrance to the Temple, wielding huge flails and ill-fitting armour. They chafed at being unable to join the battle, clearly, and periodically amused themselves by picking up pieces of fallen masonry and flinging them across the great square before the Temple. Groups of orcs riding large wargs were conintually riding around near to the Temple, and Hogar noticed they bore insignia identifying them as orcs of the Redfist tribe - and indeed, most likely among the close personal guard of Tulgaak, the king of the Redfist tribe, who they had seen purchasing a magical rune at the auction at Podolplatz some months before. sd: Edmund was able to find a spot where they could wait hidden behind a tower. The cyclopes remained stationary, but the orcs were in continuous movement and he hoped they could find a time to strike when the fewest of them would be there at that moment. As they waited and a few orcs rode away, a new one entered the square. It was Tulgaak, King of the Redfists, a huge creature nearly eight feet tall, with enormous muscles and a great axe upon which was etched a rune. He rode with two warg riders at his shoulders, and he stopped near the centre of the square, murmuring curses under his breath and gazing towards the battle to the north. Leofric: Leofric managed to cast two great spells that affect all the members of the party with great speed and strength to help them to fight their dread enemies. He grimanced, looking forward to see what kind of havoc that they can play on the field Hogar: Hogar eyed the impressive Tulgaak careful, sizing him up and caressing the edge of his hatchet, likely intent on quickly slaying him to sow confusion's in the ranks of the enemy. Leofric: Leofirc's eyes glanced over the battlefield and noted all the orc riders and their giant mounts and gave a quick heads up to others, "I will try hit all the orc riders and wargs at the same time." His eyes sparked as he focused his Will, sparks start dancing in his hand ready to be strike sd: Deoneath had two enchanted arrows from Beomund and applied poison to each of these, while the other Watchmen drew javelins ready to throw before they would draw their close combat weapons Edmund: Having cast the spell on his arrows, Edmund fired quickly at teh Edmund: massive Orc king. His shot sunk into the monster's chest, although it remained upright. sd: Deoneath meanwhile fired at the nearest cyclops, striking it too in the chest. His arrow was tipped with poison, however the huge creature seemed to resist it. Leofric: Leofric unleashed his Will on all six mounted Orcs and their mounts. The lightenings flashed across the temple ruins as it inflicted small measure of wounds across the orcs' and wargs' bodies. Beomund: Beomund fired his own arrow at one of the war riders, striking the orc in the leg and causing him to tumble from his warg. Hogar: Hogar followed on Edmund's arrow by hurling his hatchet at the Orc-king. Though the silver weapon was meant for undead rather than living flesh the enchantments placed on it by Beomund were powerful and Hogar's impressive strength sent it deep into the orc's ribcage, hurling him down from his monstrous mount, unconscious. sd: the Watchmen hurled a barrage of javelins, striking at the orcs and one of the cyclopes as well. One war rider was sent hurtling from the saddle by a powerful throw, while another took a heavy shot to the arm, though it kept up its grip on its shield sd: with the sudden attack and fall of Tulgaak the orcs tried to form up, though wildly after their king's fall, while the cyclopes ran towards places where they could pick up pieces of rubble to hurl towards the attackers. Edmund: With extraordinary speed Edmund fired again, this time targetting one of the nearest cyclopes. The arrow plunged into the creature's guts, sending it to the floor. Blood spread in a dark pool around it. sd: Deoneath meanwhlie fired at another cyclops, striking it near its eye with a poisoned arrow that caused it to bellow with anger and confusion Hogar: Hogar joined the line of dreadnoughts and wielded the Darkling Axe, trusting Beomund and Leofric to handle the cyclopes on their flank Leofric: Leofric and Beomund strolled toward the closest cyclop. He brutally attacked the cyclop, chopping one of its leg off, killing it almost if it was an ant. Leofric: Leofric went onward to join the line and shouted a bloodthirsty warcry at the approaching line of Orcs Leofric: Shaking his Shifting Blade, spattered by cyclops he so recently salughtered sd: the Watchmen began to draw spears and shields as they prepared to enter melee, while the surviving warg riders formed up, letting out loud cries that would surely alert any others on patrol in the area
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Post by sleepingdragon on Jul 22, 2017 17:46:07 GMT
sd: Deoneath and Edmund both took aim at one of two cyclopes who were standing by a shattered tower, behind the main line of Watchmen ahead. Deoneath's shot took it in the leg, unbalancing it. Edmund tried to hit the same spot, but its movement threw off his aim - however instead his arrow buried itself deeply into the creature's midsection, and it toppled over backwards Leofric: Leofric went forth with Beomund and Hogar and their allies toward the approaching horror sd: as they began to form up, they saw there were more wolf-riding orcs, now aware of the fighting, which were heading towards them. There were a half dozen off to their left, who would arrive shortly, they thought, and another group ahead of them and down the right-hand fork, who would take a little longer sd: the second of the two cyclopes by the tower picked up a huge chunk of masonry from by his fallen comrade and sent it hurtling towards the bard, but Edmund easily dodged aside sd: the remainder of the cyclopes around the square followed suit. The arch of an ancient doorway went sailing over Leofric's head, while Hogar was able to roll aside from a great chunk of wall. One block of masonry was aimed at the Watchman directly in the centre of their line. He held up his kite shield, which was enough only to deflect the throw in part, but the protective spell Beomund had cast was enough to absorb its weakened momentum as it fell and slammed into the man's leg. sd: Edmund dropped his bow and quickly drew his flute, playing a soaring, defiant martial tune sd: Deoneath hastily drew an arrow and a vial, unstoppering the poison and dipping the head into the venom Edmund has connected. Leofric: Leofric, full of righteous fury charged at one of the monstrous creature upon nightmarish creature. He stuck out with his Shifting Blade with all the skills he can muster. The Orc in vain try to defend itself with a shortspear and kite spear but none will give it some small measure of mercy. Leofric just lopped off the arm, causing such a shock that the Orc dropped dead, dropping from the mount. Leofric merely smiled with grim dark look at the mount, covering with its owner's brackish blood; Beomund: Even as Leofric was swinging his blade, Beomund was lashing out with his newly-enchanted silver hammer. He struck another orc rider full in the chest, crushing armor and ribs, sending the creature tumbling to the earth. Hogar: Hogar lashed out at the biggest and most ferocious of the wargs, a gigantic, slavering monster who had been Tulgaak's mount, but the beast rolled away from the deadly attack at the last moment, though it found itself sprawled on the ground sd: as the battle was joined, the Watchmen struck out with powerful attacks of their spears and halberds, enhanced by Beomund's magic. Their ferocity was incredible - in moments, two orcs were dead, and three more wargs had fallen pierced with many wounds. sd: the two wargs that had not fallen bit at Hogar and one of the Watchmen, but to little effect, while the cyclopes, undeterred and seeing allies coming, drew huge flails and prepared to enter battle Leofric: Leofric followed up his promise of death by striking the mount whose rider was massacred by him and put it down with blood spurting from one of the front leg. Beomund: Beomund moved up beside Hogar and struck at the great warg, taking advantage of its attempt to avoid his companion's blow. His hammer struck it a heavy blow on the skull. Hogar: Hogar took advantage of Beomund's attack to step in and finish the great beast with a swift and powerful blow which neatly severed its head off sd: the Watchmen slew the final warg, but more were arriving from a side road Beomund is disconnected. Beomund is disconnected. Beomund has connected. sd: Deoneath fired an arrow at the nearest cyclops, which grunted and then began to rush towards the Watchman and Edmund who were detached from the rest of their compatriots sd: the enemies began to thunder forward. two cyclopes were quite near by, but were smart enough not to simply rush directly into the fray until the rest of their allies had arrived, stopping near to the line of bodies while the Watchmen withdrew a few steps Edmund: Edmund had grabbed up his bow and fired off an arrow at the nearest, worryingly close, cyclops. It struck deep in the monster's chest but didn't stop it in its tracks as he'd hoped. sd: the enemies suddenly burst forward, partially enveloping the rear of the party's line. Edmund backed away, loading his bow, as a single cyclops came bounding towards him and Deoneath, one arrow from each stuck into its body as it raised a great flail overhead sd: Deoneath fired another arrow at the oncoming cyclops, slamming hard into its midsection, but the creature remained on its feet. the Watchman flung his bow away and drew his spear as Edmund moved behind him Leofric: Leofric focused his attention on so many enemies surrounding the line. He reached out and lopped off a head of one of the Orc rider, blood spourting from the headless orc as it collasped. sd: Beomund swung his enchanted hammer round to smash into a cyclops' midsection. The powerful weapon crushed the creature's organs and it fell dying, forcing the smith to roll aside to avoid being crushed Hogar: Hogar leapt at the cyclops flanking the line he and his companions had made and slashed viciously at his head with his enchanted axe, tearing through the huge eye and thick skull of the creature and sending it collapsing to the groud. sd: the Watchmen began their attack, taking down a trio of orcs with concentrated attacks, though they still faced a great line of wolf-flesh sd: the large wolves bit out at the line of Watchmen. fortunately, Beomund's spell meant only one light wound found flesh - otherwise, the creatures' teeth snapped uselessly against the wall of arcane power Edmund: Edmund fired again at the massive Cyclops galloping at them, and again struck it hard in the chest. This time it stumbled, blood gushing from the wound, staggered forward and finally fell on its face. Leofric: Leofric focused on another mounted Orc and deprive his life with Shifting Blade Beomund: Beomund leapt toward the nearest warg, and though it tried to turn and dart away he struck a mighty blow at its hindquarters, toppling the beast.
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Post by sleepingdragon on Jul 29, 2017 17:38:03 GMT
sd: the enemy line had been broken by the furious assault of the Dreadnoughts, and soon they had been put utterly to the rout. Quickly the party gathered up their belongings, and as they did so they were able to search the body of the fallen orc king, Tulgaak Redfist. Picking up his huge axe, which the orc had not even got to swing before Edmund and Deoneath's arrows had taken his life, Beomund noticed that it was set with a rune, one which hummed with energy and a low, purplish light. This was the same rune they had seen the king's representatives purchase at the auction in occupied Podolplatz, which the auctioneer had named the Rune of Might. Leofric: Leofric smiled at Hogar, "Maybe you can make a use out of it?" He glanced over the axe Hogar: Hogar took the axe just as Leofric spoke "Even if will not use it, better to have this in our hands than in an orc chieftain's." Leofric: as he cleaned his Shifting Blades of orcish blood Beomund: "I should be able to move the rune to whatever weapon we choose," suggested Beomund. Hogar: "Perhaps when we are back on the surface you could put it on your own hammer."suggested Hogar "For now, I think it's best to use the weapons and enchantments we already have." Leofric: Leofric nodded as he settled down, ready for another upcoming fights. He glanced around, ready to be on the move You whisper to Beomund: see OOC Beomund: Beomund, recalling what he had learned of the Liche's defenses, suggested that he put the rune on his silver hammer to prepare to fight the creature. Using spell and craft, he began to transfer the rune to his own weapon. He had just swallowed a potion of magical energy to prepare, however, and his vision began to play tricks on him. Only his long experience with smithing kept him from destroying the rune, and he managed to slow down enough to transfer it safely. sd: while Beomund worked, Deoneath had gone to examine the ruins of the Temple of Osildara. In the days of the Valings it had been covered with a high ceiling, but this had long since been destroyed and the ancient tombs of the dead had been crushed by fallen debris or defiled by the orcs. Behind one of these grave markers, commemorating the loss of an ancient Lord of the Valing clan who had been lost at sea a hundred years before his descendents became High Kings of Palania, the Watchman was able to find a hidden set of steps leading down into the darkness. Leofric: Leofric smiled, seeing Beomund's masterful handing of a Conclave spell which hopefully lead to Liche's demise at the hand of Beo. Edmund is disconnected. Edmund has connected. sd: they descended down into the catacombs beneath the Temple of Osildara. In the early days of the Valings, before their ascent as first the preeminent lords of the regions of the lower Saltanow, and later as the crowned High Kings of Palania, they had buried their dead here. In the first areas, the graves had almost all been violated, however soon Hogar found a secret passage leading to lower levels.
Amongst the tombs of the Valings Leofric nearly got them lost, thinking wrongly that the hidden path through the catacombs must relate to the tombs of the Lords of the Valings themselves. This would have been rather obvious, however, and with Edmund's help he was instead able to identify the matriarch of the clan at each generation, and these each had clues which pointed to the right path to take. These passages could often be opened only by obscure means - one tomb for instance showed great, great, great grandmother of great Heremar, the unofficial first High King, and she gripped a rose which could in fact be lifted up revealing a small switch that could be pressed. Beomund and Edmund were able to work out these mechanisms and allow them to pass through. More than once they passed by a door which had recently been opened and deliberately jammed, however the person who had done so had foolishly chosen the same method each time, and Edmund quickly worked out how to defeat these, and indeed turn the minor modifications the meddler had made to his advantage and allowing them to pass through even faster.
After about an hour they emerged suddenly out of the catacombs and found themselves on a ledge overlooking the Alanian Undercity. Beomund and Hogar clambered down and left ropes so the others could follow, and Deoneath and the remaining Watchmen took the lead. Their knowledge of the Undercity was of only some use - the Chief's forces had been busy at work here, closing off passages and leaving new traps. Deoneath however found footprints which he guessed belonged to a group of about twenty-five, and he noted one particular track amongst them which were of a set of skeletal feet, belonging he thought to a tall being. They could not be those of a normal skeleton - these beings, who were without intellect, always walked the same way, however these rested differently in certain places, revealing they belonged to an intelligent undead creature. Thinking they had found the footsteps of the Liche, and thereby those of the Chief, they continued below.
They skirted round a large crater and then worked their way through a series of ruined buildings in pursuit of the Chief. To their alarm, they suddenly noticed another set of feet - goblin tracks, and those made within the last half hour. On this realisation they nearly fell into an ambush, from which they escaped with Edmund's help, however they found themselves instead trapped between a group of some fifty goblins and a pathway which Deoneath knew, but which had been blocked off by huge boulders. In a display of tremendous strength Hogar went out and was able to bodily drag out some of the huge pieces of stone which blocked the way, and, with Beomund's help, to do so without even making a noise which would alert the nearby guards. With this success, they passed through and found the tracks of the Liche again.
After another half hour, they found themselves near a very narrow shaft which sunk deep into the earth. This shaft was clearly unnatural and shaped by magic - jagged shards of rock stuck out at every angle, and to climb down would be a very arduous task. Here Deoneath gave instructions for the Dreadnoughts to go to a place nearby where there had been caches of supplies and to take up watch there - if they left the shaft unguarded then it was possible they might successfully slay the Chief, only to return and blunder into hundreds of the enemy. Against Arkaveshirazidor, at any rate, the information which Ealdorman Heorot had unearthed suggested that great force of numbers might not only be of no use, but actively unhelpful, as the mere sight of the demon prince would shatter the minds of anyone save the most iron-willed. Deoneath alone would go with them into the Uttermost Undercity. Leofric: Leofric whispered a prayer beforehand, preparing himself for a fight ahead Beomund: Beomund thanked the Dreadnoughts for their aid so far, and steeled himself for what was to come. Edmund: Edmund too muttered a hasty prayer, and gathered himself for the fray. Hogar: "You should be proud of the assistance you provided earlier."said Hogar to the dreadnoughts as they prepared to leave them. Unlike Leofric and Edmund, he did not pray, but merely focused on the battle that would soon come. Leofric: Leofric suggested quickly, "If you are all willing, I can cast a spell that grants us an ability to fly and see in the blackmost darkness," Leofric: "This should help us to descend the shaft with ease." He added afterward Edmund: Edmund smiled despite the danger awaiting them. sd: Deoneath took the lead, and they flew down. The shaft had obviously been shaped by magic, and in many places, had they been climbing, they would have needed to contort themselves into strange shapes to pass by without gashing themselves on jagged stones, however with Leofric's spell the task was much easier as they could simply float over the stony protrusions and then squeeze through.
they flew down about a hundred feet and suddenly came out into a great cavern. This was what remained of the ancient Forerunner settlement which had dominated the eastern bank of the Saltanow, until they had fallen to the worship of Arkaveshirazidor and had therefore been destroyed by the repentent hero, Pasekur. Ealdorman Heorot indicated that Pasekur's spirit had been bound into a runestone somewhere near the river - they were not sure where this was, as the course of the Saltanow had changed over the long centuries since the Alanians had displaced the Forerunners. From their vantage point in the air they could see a few dotted ruins here and there - and also, about a mile and a half to the south, one structure that remained completely intact. It was of some otherworldly black crystalline substance that gleamed eerily. The building seemed somehow suspended in air, for the earth around it had fallen away, yet it still remained intact, held aloft by a slender tunnel like the base of a tower beneath it, one that should have been far too slender to bear such a weight. Edmund is disconnected. Edmund has connected. sd: as they observed the terrain around them, a strange feeling settled over them, and there was an odd iron tang in their mouths as if they had each abruptly bitten their tongues. Leofric: Leofric frowned at the sense and muttered a spell to sense magic. You whisper to Leofric: he had expected that he would be instantly flooded with a sense of whatever the Chief might now be doing to attempt to open the demonic portal, but instead he felt nothing of the kind. Rather, there was a dampening effect over the area, one not unlike that of the spell Manehtar had devised, which made it harder to sense spells down here. From a distance it would have been utterly impossible - this was, in all likelihood, something the Chief had done to prevent the Conclave or other mages from using spells from above to detect what he was doing. This would have one effect on the party themselves - any attempt to use a spell at a great distance would be useless, and they would certainly be unable to use any magic to telepathically contact their allies aboveground if they were to fall into difficulty.
Although this dampening effect was the most pronounced, he sensed other magics as well. He was instantly able to sense an aethyric resonance that was similar to that of other runestones of the Forerunners, though this one was intermingled with the bloody taste, as if some smear had fallen upon it.
From the black building itself, he sensed a powerful spell laid upon the entire building, which would immediately detect any living creature that stepped within its walls. It had been cast recently, and its arcane signatures were those of one who had learned the basics of the magical art amongst the same tradition as Leofric himself - a spell cast by the Liche, or some similar Conclave deserter. Leofric realised that even dispelling this magic would be imperfect, as were he to do so, the caster would soon become aware of it - though at least not immediately as they would if they entered the structure while it remained active.
Finally, somewhere deep below the structure, he sensed what must be the portal. It was buried and hidden beneath the spell of blood, but he could nonetheless taste a terrible fire, as if he had swallowed burning coals, tearing at his innards. He doubted any living being that was not under active demonic influence could actually stand to be in close proximity to that magic for long without being consumed, though an undead creature like the Liche would most likely be unscathed. Leofric: Test Leofric: Leofric frowned with a concern. "Okay, the onl good news is that I know where Pasekur's Stone is." He confirmed as he pointed toward the location of the Runestone." He kept on, "That tang you tasted in your mouth is part of a spell, most likely casted by the Chief to hide the ongoing magic so no one can sense anything from the surface and indeed, it would be very difficult for us to get in touch with our allies on surface as well. That creepy building is where the portal deep below although the power of the portal is very dangerous and could consume us if we went too close. That Liche or another treasonous member of the Conclave also casted the spell on the whole building that will instantly alert them when we enter the building." Leofric: Leofric hovers for a moment as he glanced at his best friends and asked, "Shall we head over to the runestone then?" Edmund: Edmund nodded in response. Hogar: "Best to have every possible advantage." Leofric: Leofric took another pull of his poition sd: they followed Leofric as he led them towards Pasekur's Stone. It had once been upon the bank of the Saltanow, but now, with the change of the river's course over the years, it lay far from it, and its former riverside perch had transformed into a deep dry crevice which was all but invisible save when they were directly on top of it. The Stone was tall and narrow, etched with runes of dark green, which were arranged almost in the shape of a sorrowful face, etched with scars. As they floated down towards it, they noticed several piles of ash near to the Stone. You whisper to Leofric: the strange taste of blood that was all around them seemed pronounced upon the piles of ash, and part of it had settled into the Stone itself. He guessed that any attempt to access the Stone would be difficult and result in magical resistance. Leofric: Leofric widened his eyes at the realisation and told others with grimness, "The blood spell also made it difficult to use the Runestone and it may results in magicial resistance against us." Hogar: Hogar looked at the ash with, obviously wondering abouts its origin and nature Leofric: EDIT: "That bloodly spell" You whisper to Hogar: among the piles of ash Hogar found a few tiny fragments of bone which had not been charred, around which were a few scraps of cloth. They had been human, he thought, and had probably died only the day before or two days at most. He also noticed a small shard of glass amongst the pile, and there was a liquid upon it which seemed to resemble what they had in their potions - these must have been mages, most likely apprentices of the Liche Hogar: Hogar sifted through the ashes for a while before telling the others what he had found "There is some human bone, scraps of cloth and some shards of glass with drops that reminds me of the magical elixir we use to restore our energies. I'd wager these are the ashes of mages, perhaps apprentices of the Liche himself." Leofric: Leofric smirked for a moment, "How unfortunate for them." He eyed the ashes, frowned with concern at the runestone Edmund: Edmund also stared at the runestone. "Dangerous..." he muttered to himself. Leofric: Leofric frowned for a moment, "We might be able to fix the stone beforehand." He glanced at Hogar, "You might be able to help me on this." sd: Leofric and Hogar put their hands upon the stone, and instantly they felt a malign spirit attempt to assail them. The scribe called on the power of God, and he and Hogar's wills together were enough to drive the dark force out of Pasekur's Stone for long enough that Edmund could begin. The notes which Ealdorman Heorot gave them contained the tune the Forerunners had once played at festivals to commemorate Pasekur's sacrifice, and something of the themes of the song though not its exact words. Edmund sang first of the sorrow of Pasekur as he killed the man he had loved, who had fallen utterly under the sway of the demon prince of torment, and of the torment of his heart as he fought his way through the corrupted folk who had once been his kin. When he finished his improvised song, Edmund picked up the Wind God's Flute and began to play, filling the air of the cavern with notes which had not been heard for at least six centuries. Clearly Ealdorman Heorot's tomes had faithfully recorded the information, gleaned in the brief period when there was goodwill between Alanian and Forerunner, for as the bard played the runes began to glow, and now they did indeed take on the form of a man's face, lined with regret and sorrow, wounded by many blades, wrenched with torment. As Edmund played the final notes they felt a surge of aethyric power, then a peace settled upon them. Edmund: Edmund gently lowered his flute, his face filled with both calm and sadness. Leofric: Leofric closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying a rare sense of peaceness. He smiled sadly for a moment, glad to gain a favour of an outstanding hero who sacrificed everything. Beomund: Beomund took a long breath. "I feel more prepared for what we must face," he murmured. sd: with Pasekur's favour, they set south and flew near the roof of the cavern towards the strange structure. As they came near to it, they saw signs that once it had sat atop a hill, but the Forerunners, after Pasekur's sacrifice had sealed the portal, had sought to destroy this temple to demonkind. Unfortunately, it seemed their attempts had failed - they had tried even to collapse the building by flattening the hill, which ought to have brought it down by gravity alone. Instead, the bulk of the demonic fane, which had once been the only piece that could be seen aboveground, remained impossibly in the air, supported by a long black shaft that should simply not have been able to bear its weight, like a bulbous body borne aloft upon a single spindly leg. If the Forerunners had tried to chip or break the gleaming material the fane was constructed of, it had been to absolutely no avail, for it was immaculate, having no sign of any damage whatsoever. A long thin bridge extended from a great door which was of some unnatural red colour, like the colour of exposed flesh, over fifty feet to the edge where the hill had fallen away. It would have been perilous to walk across, given there was no rail and only enough room to walk in single file, but with their spell they could simply fly towards it. At one point they sensed a curse rune which the Forerunners had left being triggered, most likely to keep anyone away from the cursed fane, however Pasekur's protection caused it to fail harmlessly against them.
They floated some distance away from the fane and prepared for what lay within. Leofric had sensed a spell upon the building which would alert whoever cast it to any presence of living beings within the fane. They could try to dispel it, but even this would only be temporary, for soon the caster would realise they could no longer sense the spell, and would doubtlessly realise the fact of its suppression meant that hostiles were present. Leofric: Leofric gestured and muttered acrane words to grant themsleves extra strength and speed. Beomund: Beomund prepared their missiles with their own spells of power. Hogar: Hogar cast spells of protection and accuracy on himself and the others, sparing no expense of magical energy for the coming battle. Leofric: Once they finished casting their spells, his eyes flicked as he laid the very best possible protection against magic and spirits on each member of the party. He shuddered for a moment at the sheer cost of his energy. Once again, he took another of his magic position to restore his power but he felt something might be off. "I am drinking far too much of this." He muttered to himself darkly sd: Deoneath was carefully preparing his poison for use, positioning his vials in easy reach so he could apply them immediately as soon as hostilities were joined Leofric: Leofric then casted on himself but it was becoming clear that he is having issues performing the spells before finally completing it Leofric: Leofric glared at the building, "I might be able to cancel the spell but the very act would alert the Liche so no point really." He muttered sd: "In that case..." Deoneath flew down towards the door, hurling away the stopper of a poison vial and applying the toxin to his arrow as he landed. Leofric: Leofric landed as well, pulling out his shield and a javelin recently enscrolled by Beomund. Beomund: Beomund flew beside them, one hand on a silver hatchet at his belt and the other at the haft of his silver hammer. Edmund: Edmund played a stirring and hopeful tune on the flute for them as they moved forward, then drew out his bow and fitted an arrow, taking a deep breath as they neared this place of doom. Edmund is disconnected. Edmund has connected. sd: Deoneath eyed his poisoned arrow. "This should prove interesting," he said, and shoved the door open. He stepped in, and they found themselves in a very short corridor which ended in immense stone double doors, thick and heavier than the guilt of the damned. The ground beneath their feet was constructed of an odd substance, clear crystal which gleamed with a colour like rotting meat. Edmund: "Demonic poor taste," Edmund muttered, eyeing the surroundings. Hogar: "i did not expect this to be a pleasant place."said Hogar Leofric: Leofric shivered for a moment, "Clearly an alien place." He muttered sd: Hogar and Beomund slammed hard into the door, but it would not budge, though it gave a great hammering sound as they did Leofric: Leofirc lifted his javelin, ready to throw into whatever enemies that appear behind the extremely strong doors Edmund: Edmund raised his bow, aiming at the centre of the doors. sd: they threw themselves against it, again without success. Then they flew back to the end of the bridge, settled down on the floor, and ran forward as hard as they could, sped by Leofric's magic, and drove their shoulders into the stone as hard as they could manage. The double doors were flung open and they began to stumble forwards into a great chamber.
They were in a great, circular chamber, with a dome some forty feet overhead. Ahead of them, in the centre of the room, was a two-tiered dais with steps of marble leading up each side, leading to a great, bloody altar above it. There were six marble pillars around the chamber, from which hung long chains, which were in some places lined with barbs or great manacles. The tiles of the dome overhead were arranged in the pattern of a face contorted with pain, and the tiles below were pale, pinkish-red, like exposed sinews or broken veins.
Upon the first level of the dais they saw men with great shields, javelins ready to throw, and sheathed blades, facing them. There were three robed mages taking shelter behind tall copper statues at each corner, and up by the altar was another mage, a woman in her early sixties, but still possessed of considerable strength of will. Nearest to them was a man with no armour at all, garbed in black with a bandana. He had a pair of curved swords belted at his waist, along with a number of vials that they guessed must be poison near to hand. He had two glistening daggers which he whirled calmly in his hands. "Well if you'd given us more warning, I'd have poured you all drinks!" he called sarcastically. He swept a gaze down at the party, stopped and frowned for a moment when looking at Beomund, then continued. "You must be the great heroes of Phalen! Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Sperling, sailor of the south seas and merchant of fine human flesh. Now here's the thing. If we kill you now, my friend without flesh will make you into wights, while if you surrender, I'll just sell you instead. You'll still be alive and I'll get to make a lot of money and we all win! I'm sure I can fetch many fine coins for you. Particularly you," he indicated Leofric. "I knew a man once who was obsessed with Erse flesh, but the Chief has kept me too busy for the last few years to supply him any more specimens." Beomund: Beomund watched the man carefully, wondering at expression toward him. "Neither offer of slavery appeals to me," he said loudly. "I think instead we'll kill you, like we have every other cruel fool who thought our defeat inevitable." Player "the" is not connected. You whisper to Beomund: the slaver's confidence was obviously not nearly as great as it seemed, and his gaze on Beomund was one of a man trying to place someone in their memory You whisper to Leofric: the slaver's confidence was obviously not nearly as great as it seemed, and his gaze on Beomund was one of a man trying to place someone in their memory Leofric: Leofric frowned for a moment and shared a glance with Beomund as if he may be involved in the slaving him and his wife. sd: "You look very familiar." Sperling said to Beomund. "Have you ever sailed the southern seas? That's a stupid question, I suppose, you'd have not been able to come here from Gastonland if you hadn't. Back when the League started four or five years ago I made a fucking fortune on your lot. I couldn't sell to the tribes in the east lands - folk might flee and tell the Council and then things would go badly - but Coelney, Suthfryd, Fryddenland, there's all kinds of people out there who find the idea of having Virian slaves very tempting." Hogar: Hogar seemed to barely care for the slaver's words as he quickly sized up the many potential targets his hatchets could strike down. He did not attack however, as if waiting for Beomund to finish talking Beomund: After sharing a glance with Leofric and listening to Sperling's words, Beomund gave a long look toward the man. "I sailed, yes, and faced the lash. And lived. Tell me... Do you remember a slave named Aisha, a Sharan woman, and a Virian." His voice had a deadly calm. sd: Sperling leaned over and looked at Beomund. "I thought you looked familiar. I remember some Erse woman about four summers back, she had a smith for a husband, some big bastard who'd fought in a war and made a nuisance of himself. If I'd known the Chief then I'd have given him to the Liche to make a fine wight but instead I think he got sent to Coelney, where I was dumping most of my more useless slaves at the time. Some of my men did his wife some damage and I had to have them flogged, it's all well and good having fun but they'd managed to stab her and it was no good killing Erse folk when I could turn them into gold instead. People find the copper skin interesting. I don't care to find out names though, there's too many of you fuckers out there to bother with that." Beomund: Beomund gaze was unblinking. A slight smile with a tinge of madness crept on to his face. "Well she remembers your name. And she'll have her revenge." He glanced at his friends, and nodded. Leofric: Leofric lifted his javelin, "Time to dance then" His eyes promised death for their enemies Edmund: "We'll leave that bastard for you Beomund," Edmund muttered, his eyes burning with righteous anger. sd: "What, she'll have her revenge all the way from Suthfryd?" Sperling shrugged. "I'd tell you who I sold her to, but you're about to die so I don't see the point." He whirled his daggers.
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Post by sleepingdragon on Aug 6, 2017 16:36:09 GMT
sd: "What, she'll have her revenge all the way from Suthfryd?" Sperling shrugged. "I'd tell you who I sold her to, but you're about to die so I don't see the point." He whirled his daggers. sd: the slaver suddenly tensed and drew his arm back, and at that moment there was a burst of motion as everyone in the great fane began to move at once Edmund: Edmund, who already had his bow drawn, let fly an arrow straight at the mage he knew must be Herewynn. Despite her efforts to avoid it, it struck her in the belly and remained. You whisper to Beomund: his mind was aflame with rage but as he prepared to rush towards the man who had stolen his wife from him, he noticed that the long, hooked chains that hung from the nearby column stirred lightly, as of their own volition. he then saw, in various points along their length, almost imperceptibly, there were small runes associated with concepts of torment and agony. He felt sure they would strike at them if they went by, though Leofric's spells would provide them with some resistance Beomund: Beomund, his eyes wide and intense with hate, froze for a moment, looking at the column ahead of them and the chains that hung from it. "Watch out for the chains - they're ready to strike at us!" sd: Deoneath tried to fire at the same woman as Edmund, hoping to catch her as she stumbled, but she flung herself down by the altar and his poisoned arrow went skittering by sd: the slaver looked for Beomund, but the smith had moved so the pillar was between the two of them, so instead he sent a dagger whizzing through the air at Deoneath. The Watchman ducked beneath the throw, then glanced over at the dagger, seeing the glistening mark of venom it had left where it struck the wall. sd: the mage Edmund had shot ducked down behind the altar, giving her total cover from the party for the moment. "They'll have magic, get rid of it!" she called to her three apprentices, and then she began to cast a spell of her own. sd: in response, the three apprentices all began to cast their own spells, taking cover behind large brass statues at the corners of the dais Leofric has connected. Hogar: Hogar hurled an enchanted hatchet at the closest foe, hitting him right in the chest and sending him to the ground collapsing in pain Beomund: Beomund looked ready to charge foward, but the sight of the enchanted chains gave him pause. He took deep breaths, recalling his military training. "Soften them up, soften them up..." he murmured. Glancing toward a warrior who looked ready to launch a javelin at Hogar, he threw his own hatchet, which struck the man in the kidney, toppling him. Leofric: Leofric was planning to charge in like his anrgy Beomund but he threw a javelin. The javelin was flung across with great force and slammed into one of the warriors's right arm. The force spun the enemy around, killing him dead. Leofric: Holding the shield in his left hand, he took heed of Beo's warning and faced the warth of magical chains as he moved forwar with Beo and Leo Leofric: Hogar Beomund: "All at once," said Beomund, sensing that each of the chains would only be able to strike at one of the companions as they rushed past. He, Leofric, and Hogar moved forward toward Sperling. sd: the chain lashed out at Leofric as they came in, and the scribe suddenly realised the spell he had thought he cast on himself to protect from hostile spirits successfully had actually failed, but his mind, fogged by too many mana potions, had thought it a success. He raised the Shifting Blade and knocked the chains away inelegantly, barbs whirring past his flesh sd: Deoneath reached out and carefully picked up the poisoned dagger Sperling had hurled at him sd: Sperling reached for one of his curved swords and drew it. As he did, they saw him make a fast movement with his hand, and they saw there was a ring there with two flat segments of jewels, emerald and ruby. The ruby section quickly flicked up and brushed against his sword as he drew, and they saw a viscous liquid pour out and along the blade's edge. Beomund: Beomund's face was cold, almost mechanical, while his eyes blazed. He noted the liquid on Sperling's blade. "You'll tell me who calls himself her 'owner' now," he said, and hurled a hatchet toward the man's body with lightning speed. A copper Forerunner bracelet on Sperling's wrist suddenly glowed, and he deflected the hatchet with his blade. Still Beomund moved onward. Leofric: Leofric took a firm grasp of his Shifting Blade, ready to go into melee. He is more concerned that he would not be able to cast his powerful spells again in time. He cursed his own lack of will. sd: "I'll tell you after the Liche makes you a wight. Maybe he'll send you to kill her, assuming she's not dead already," the slaver replied. Hogar: Hogar hurled another hatchet. This time the weapon was targetted at Sperling, and it had a silver edge, for Hogar had expected to fight undead and not living humans. It flew true and bit deep into the man's leg cutting through an artery and leaving him reeling and bleeding. sd: the slaver's guards flung up a series of javelins at the trio of warriors flying towards them, but one struck Leofric's shields, and Hogar and Beomund allowed the weapons to simply batter harmlessly off the magical defences which Beomund had raised Edmund: Edmund flew up into the air and followed Deoneath who had moved around the chains/ Hogar: Thanks to Leofric's spell Hogar flew quickly through the air and landed beside Beomund and Leofric, finding himself facing a trio of foes Leofric: Leofric took the advantage of the spell and what appears to be a magical thing, Leofric flew over the heads of the enemies surrounding Sperling and landed before with a graceful movement. He lifted his Shifting Blade, ready to fight sd: as Leofric and Hogar flew in, the four fighters near to them whirled with surprising discipline and raised their shields as one towards the two as they descended. Although they were able to evade them and land, it was an awkward moment and took some effort Leofric: He dropped the shield, the Shifting Blade grew long until it became greatsword, ready to slay them out sd: Deoneath hurled Sperling's poisoned dagger at one of the mages, but she was able to dodge aside Edmund: Edmund could now see one of the young apprentices hiding behind a pillar on the far side. His arrow struck her hard in the leg, severing an artery and she fell to the ground, bleeding profusely. sd: as Beomund landed, Sperling suddenly had a burst of energy and slashed viciously at the smith. Beomund's hands were bare from hurling his hatchets already, and the curved blade came thundering towards him with immense force. He flung himself down to dodge the blow, managing at least to have it only scrape along the top of his skull instead of passing straight through it - fortunately, the poisoned blade just barely failed to penetrate his protective magic sd: coming back to his feet, Beomund swept his hammer out Leofric: Leofric eyed the impressive display of formation before him and grimanced at the sight. Instead, he went forward, targeted the center of the formation and sliced off the weapon arm of a vetern enemy. In one move, Leofric shattered the formation in a short order. Hogar: Hogar quickly drew his axe and prepared to cut down the two remaining foes left facing him Leofric: Leofric followed up with another attack on an enemy facing Hogar to help him out. The man lose his right arm, blood spourting from terrible wound. Hogar: Hogar swung his axe at the head of one of the few foes still standing, knocking him out on the bloody floor Beomund: Unharmed by Sperling's poisoned blade, his eyes unblinking and fixed on the slaver's, Beomund clutched his hammer with a white-knuckled grip. "Every lash. Every cry of despair. From me and from Aisha and from all the others. I hope you feel it all in hell." And with that he flew foward, his hammer twirling like a baton. In the blink of an eye Sperling was falling, his leg turned to pulp, his eyes glazed. sd: the party had taken enough time that the mages let loose spells to attempt to counteract their own magic. Leofric's spell of flight was dispelled, but the others were unaffected, and then arrows from Edmund and Deoneath finished them off. There were two warriors who had positioned themselves near to some steps and were separate from the main battle, and they alone had the chance to throw down their weapons. "He had notes!" one of them called to Beomund. "Don't kill us, and I'll show you where they are." Beomund: As soon as Sperling fell, Beomund had begun to wobble slightly, breaths coming suddenly and heavily. His eyes were wide now, and when he looked at the man who spoke and processed what he said, he simply nodded. Leofric: Leofric cleaned the Shifting Blade of its blood and glanced at Beomund, "That's fair enough. Make it quick!" Leofric: He glared at the surrending enemies, wanting to move on sd: at the sides of the dais were staircases, and below these were small doors leading into cramped chambers. One showed Beomund a metal strongbox, set with a superb lock which he suspected would take some time to be able to defeat. "He told us not to touch this if we valued our lives, I suspect it's trapped," the man said. sd: they examined the box. Beomund was just about convinced it was fine and began to reach for it when Hogar finally noticed - there was a very well hidden dart, powered by a strong lever and poisoned, which would have been triggered if they had tried to unlock it Hogar: "Careful. It would do no good for us to die before we have defeated the Liche and the Chief." said Hogar as he stopped Beomund Leofric: Leofric nodded as he stood back, "I need to recast my spells" He muttered to himself with shame. He had to cast twice before managing to focus his Will on defending himself from spirits and magic., sd: they were able to disarm the trap, however the lock was too strong to be quickly undone. Deoneath stepped in. "If we don't move now our spells will dissipate, and the Chief gets more time to prepare. I'm sorry Beomund, but we need to strike now. If we don't finish this now, then there'll be no one who knows to try to rescue your wife." Leofric: Leofric nodded, "I have to agree with Deo. I have to invest a lot to make these spells tough as possible. Which is why I didn't notice that I didn't do mine!" Leofric: He muttered a quick curse Beomund: Beomund pulled the box toward him, not replying, and summoned the last of his magical energies to weave a spell upon the lock, shifting the metal so that it fell away from the box. sd: there was a great number of ledgers and papers within the box. Beomund tried to find the range of dates near to when the ship he and Aisha had sailed upon was attacked, however he soon realised this was pointless - the documents were all written in a cipher, and until they had time to decode this, there was no hope to learn who in Suthfryd Aisha had been sold to. Beomund: Beomund looked frustrated, but his friends also saw something in his manner they had rarely witnessed before, even in his least downcast moments - a real hopefulness. "It's here. I think it's here." He quickly stashed the documents away. "Let's finish this."
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Post by sleepingdragon on Aug 13, 2017 15:25:00 GMT
sd: taking Sperling's notes and storing them carefully, the party climbed to the top of the altar. The altar itself, which was set with manacles and engraved with images of torment, was placed upon large grooves in the floor. With Beomund's expertise they were able to work out how to pull the altar back, revealing a small hole in the floor. Within was a corridor that would just about accomodate a human being, provided they approached bowed upon the ground, crouched like supplicants. The tunnel zig-zagged diagonally down deep into the heart of the earth, lit with runes that glowed pale pink like exposed ligaments carved out from vulnerable flesh. Leofric: Leofric shook his head with horror, "Clearly a place of misery. If only we can dismantle this place stone by stone." Hogar: "Do you sense any wards there that might harm us?" Hogar asked Leofric Edmund: "Squeezing through that will be like undergoing an evil rebirth," Edmund said looking with distaste into the corridor. Beomund: "I've got experience with tunnels," said Beomund, doing his best to keep his mind focused on the task at hand rather than his recent revelations. Leofric: Leofric shook his head, "Unfortunately, not at the moment." He frowned Leofric: EDIT: at Hogar You whisper to Leofric: further below him, he felt something like burning in his throat, a brutal fire tearing at his innards - this he thought must be the portal, still weak and he thought unopened. It radiated with foul energies and he doubted anyone alive could stay near it for long unless they were under the demon's direct power - most likely whoever was down there with the Chief and the Liche would be undead. Within the corridor itself, when casting his gaze over some of the runes deeper within the corridor he got a sense like rising bile, a caustic sensation like acid on his tongue. This was clearly magic of a demonic origin - his spell of spirit resistance would provide them with some protection, but only partial. The runes were furthermore set to trigger upon anyone passing by, and could reset themselves - there was no safe way they could pass. sd: Deoneath gazed down into the tunnel with the face of a man gazing upon the banner of an enemy. "I'll go first. Descending below the earth is what the Undercity Watch is for." Leofric: Leofric closed his eyes for a moment before saying, "The portal is still unopened although the energies from it are so foul that it seems that only undeads remains there. However, these runes within the corridors are demonics and would be used on anyone passing by. We will set them off and my spells can only give a measure of protection but not full one." He altered the others Hogar: "That's what I feared."said Hogar "But we have to risk it." sd: Deoneath went to check on their captives, securing their bonds to make sure they could not seal the party in once they had entered. Leofric: Leofric manage to quickly retrive his shield and shifted his Shifting Blade to smaller shape of a boardsword, trusting in his shield to defend himself sd: they gazed down into the tunnel, but it was exceptionally unlikely they could pass through such cramped quarters with weapons at the ready. Beomund: Beomund moved to the tunnel entrance, glancing to the others for objections before he would crawl in first. Edmund: Edmund swung his bow onto his shoulder and readied himself to take the rear. sd: "My friend, if there's a trap here I'd rather that it killed me than you," Deoneath said to Beomund. "If you die before you can save your wife I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I'll go first." Beomund: Beomund didn't reply, just thought for a long moment, suddenly weighing the fact that his own life had some reason to be maintained. He clasped Deoneath's shoulder and stepped aside. sd: Deoneath slung his bow over his shoulder, carefully double checked the stoppers of his poisons to make sure they couldn't spill as he climbed into the tunnel, then took a breath and squeezed in expertly. He began to crawl down the corridor. Hogar: "I'll go next."said Hogar taking his weapons and following a short distance behind Deoneath Leofric: Leofric couched down and went after Hogar, trusting in his Will to defend themsleves form deominic horrible magic. Beomund: Beomund followed, leaving some space between them in case of traps. Edmund: Edmund crawled in after them, his ears pricked for any sounds from behind. sd: they crawled along the corridor, forced to prostrate themselves before the power of the demon prince of torment. On hands and knees they fumbled forward, forced at regular intervals to contort their bodies unnaturally to squeeze through gaps, shoulders slamming against jagged stone, limbs groaning. Here and there were sharp stones or little blades set into the corridor - were it not for Beomund's spell, their arms and legs would have been sliced to ribbons long before they reached the end of the corridor.
There were many runes along the way, and though they were unsure of exactly what they said, to even look on them set images of torture and agony dancing before their eyes. they tried to look elsewhere, but there was nowhere else to put their eyes, and they had to simply push through, marshalling their wills and forcing themselves to continue onwards. oppressive heat beat at their faces.
when they had descended over a hundred feet, so far that Edmund, at the rear of the group, could not see where they had entered when he looked back, Deoneath squeezed awkwardly around a corner and suddenly a rune glowed dark red. There was a sound like a hundred voices screaming in agony that reverberated down the corridor as Deoneath sprang forward, forcing his weary limbs to move as rapidly as he could manage as he thrust himself further into the corridor sd: Deoneath clambered forward, sliding like an eel, slithering across the jagged rocks. He hauled himself forward, hand over fist, pulling himself along on broken stones like clutching a rope. If not for Beomund's spell he'd likely have lost a finger, but with its protection he was able to haul himself forward enough to reach a space that opened up slightly. He half-stood, running forward blindly along a corridor. More runes were set off, and though they assailed his mind he continued along until finally he abruptly rushed out over a pit that would have sent him tumbling down onto a disgusting mosaic carved like a flayed human body, but Leofric's flight spell saved him and he was able to hover safely intsead.
the others followed, each, in turn, assailed by hostile minds that wrested with them for control of their souls. They were extremely glad for the protection Leofric had granted them as they pushed along, each time a new scream echoing along the length of the corridor. The nimbler of the party went squeezing themselves through the torturous stone like contortionists, while Beomund and Hogar simply pushed on with their great muscles, thrusting themselves through by brute force. At last, Edmund was through, and they floated above that detestable tableau. About thirty feet above them there was a small gap and Leofric detected the powerful magic of the portal there. He sensed as well a number of minor cantrips of enhancement - sharpenings to blades or reflexes. Leofric: Leofric quickly whispered to others, "In the small gap, there is a portal inside along with many minor spells which improve reflex or blades." Leofric: EDIT "on people" Edmund: "We could try doing something about that," Edmund suggested. Beomund: Beomund gave Deoneath an appreciative look when they were all through safely. He looked up at the entrance to the portal. "They'll be ready." sd: Deoneath was applying his most powerful toxin to an arrow. "If we've no hope of doing this stealthily, then we may as well announce our arrival with some music," he said, nocking the arrow and readying himself to fly up to the gap. Edmund: Edmund drew out his flute at this cue and began to play music to stir the soul. Hogar: Hogar gripped his two enchanted hatchets and focused on the battle to come. You whisper to Hogar: there was a sound above of voices beginning to murmur spells in preparation for their arrival - if they didn't fly up immediately they would likely face a magical barrage the moment they arrived Beomund: Beomund held his hammer in one hand and a hatchet in the other, recalling what he'd learned of the Liche's weaknesses as he prepared himself. Hogar: Hogar gestured that the time to attack was now - they could not afford to tarry or wait even a moment longer! Leofric: Leofric nodded, gripping on his Shifting Blade and Shield. Since his flight spell is surpressed, he took hold of Hogar to give himself some support sd: "They're casting spells," Deoneath said, and immediately he began to fly up towards the small gap. Leofric: Leofric switched to javelin in one hand instead Edmund: Edmund put away his flute and fitted an arrow to the Black Bow. sd: they sped up towards the gap as rapidly as possible. They would have needed to squeeze if they entered the chamber through mundane means, but with Leofric's spell they had no trouble easily pushing through.
They found themselves in a horrific chamber with a floor with a feel like exposed flesh beneath their feet. About forty feet above them was a domed roof, curving upwards, engraved with scenes of utter depravity - flayings, dismemberment, rapes, betrayals. At the highest point of the roof there was a small glowing hole, barely the size of a fist now. Aethyric power crackled from it like lightning.
The portal chamber was utterly bare of any sign of human habitation, consisting of stepped levels ending in a high dais upon which there stood a man they had before only seen in phantasmal form. When they had previously beheld Cynefrith of the Valing clan, it had been he who was undergoing the torments they now saw depicted above them. He had been seated cross-legged, his eyes focussed upon the portal, but as the party approached he leapt to his feet. He wore only a short loincloth, and his exposed chest, arms and legs were masses of scars and scabs, forming elaborate patterns like warpaint. He bore no weapon, only his fists, which had long nails tapered into knife-like points. To either side of him were two orcish wights, hatchets in one hand and greataxes in the other. There were four such creatures around the chamber, and another four human wights with greatswords and javelins. At the highest points, to either side on levels which overlooked the chamber below like balconies, there were humans who were chanting words of arcane power. At the very far corner of the room, opposite where they entered, there was a very tall, gaunt skeletal figure, with a circlet of cold iron and stone upon its brow. The Liche raised a bony hand and prepared its own spell as the Chief and his guards sprang suddenly forth. sd: "As soon as we detected that there were unwelcome guests here, I thought it must be you, the great heroes," cried the Chief. "I am Cynefrith of the Valing clan, High King of Palania! I lay claim to this land by right of blood, by right of conquest. To harm my vassals and servants is high treason! Cast your weapons aside or die!" As he spoke, the portal above gave off a sudden burst of power that went rushing down towards the party. sd: the portal swelled for a moment and the spell Leofric had laid to protect them from hostile magics dissipated. Leofric: Leofric frowned with a mere annoyance as he moved forward Edmund: Edmund fired off an arrow but although it flew true, the Chief managed to sway out of the way of it at the last moment. "Oh we know you Cynefrith of the Valing Clan. We've seen you before. You learned to enjoy the attentions of the Orcs then?" he shouted. sd: far from being stung, the Chief laughed uproariously at Edmund's remark. "Have a coronation gift, Your Grace," Deoneath called, sending his poisoned arrow flying towards the Chief. It nearly struck him, but instead he flung himself down at the last moment and dodged. sd: the human wights sent four javelins sailing towards the party, but these were either dodged or blocked with an upraised shield Hogar: Hogar tossed his enchanted steel hatchet at the Chief with all the strength he could muster. The Chief tried to evade this attack too, but this time he proved too slow and the weapon cut in the grisly scarred mass of his belly, dealing a noticeable wound. Beomund: As his companions focused on the Chief, Beomund set his sights on the Liche, raising into the air with Leofric's spell of flight to begin rushing toward him. Leofric: Taking inspiration from Edmund's flute and that the Cheif can be wounded, he threw a javelin with all his might and despite Chief's best effort, he was unable to evade Leofric's true javelin. It stuck the Chief in his right leg, digging in deeper that ever, sd: the orcish wights followed up their human companions with hurled hatchets. One struck Beomund as he flew towards the Liche, but struck the blacksmith harmlessly. Leofric was similarly struck, but protected by Beomund's spell, while Edmund and Hogar were able to dodge sd: Deoneath, hovering above the ground, dropped his bow and drew his spear. Hogar: Hogar threw his remaining silver hatchet at the wight mage closer to Deoneth, but the undead narrowly evaded the weapon with enchanted speed. Beomund: Beomund sped through the air toward the Liche like he was an arrow himself. As he approached, he swung his silver hammer in a mighty arc. The undead managed to only barely tumble out of the way of the blow. Leofric: Leofric using his empty hand and quickly casted the spell that grants himself a flight Leofric: He flew into the air and went into a human wight Hogar: Meanwhile Hogar was temporarily unarmed and hovering just out of the reach of one of the wight-warriors, though he was obviously preparing to rearm himself and strike sd: the Liche came to his feet and cast a spell. Beomund felt his lungs begin to suddenly fill with fluid, and for a moment panic welled up within him, but then he recalled the magic torc he had taken from their gear earlier. He activated this with a whispered word that he barely managed to gurgle out, and this was enough to protect him from the dark spell. Hogar: "If we bring the demon out of him, the undead will stop!" shouted Hogar to the others as he eyed the chief, having realized that the surge of infernal power would stun the lesser undead for a good while Leofric: Leofric eyed Hogar for a moment and nodded, will aim to rush Chief as soon as possible. He will give the Wright a miss Edmund: Edmund speedily reloaded his bow and fired again at the Chief. The shot, although not deep, struck and remained quivering in his scarred stomach. sd: two of the undead mages cast spells, targetted at Beomund and Deoneath. Fortunately the party's magics were strong - though they tried to dispel Deoneath's flight and Beomund's spell of protection, they were able to resist the effect, barely Hogar: Hogar quickly strapped his shield to his arm in mid-air. Obviously he would join in the rush to the Chief, but that was not a good reason to be careless. sd: one human wight had reached Beomund's and the LIche and swung a sword at the smith, but very clumsily - the blade struck the Liche instead, but failed to do the undead mage any harm Leofric: Leofric drew his Shifting Blade and glanced at the Chief clearly aimingt o hit him Beomund: Ignoring the wight lashing out at him, Beomund focused on the Liche. Having learned of its weaknesses, he swung his silver hammer directly into its skull. The force of the blow sent the Liche clattering to the ground, though through some arcane endurance the creature yet lived. sd: the Chief, staggered with a javelin and arrow, still stepped forward. "Kill these traitors!" he commanded his guards. "I have suffered for a century for the Crown! It is mine by rights!" sd: the Liche, on the ground, reached out towards Beomund's foot, but the smith stepped aside, knowing the mage's hand could paralyse anyone it touched. sd: the third of the enemy's mages tried to dispel Leofric's flight spell, unsuccessfully Leofric: Leofric laughed at how weak their enemies' magic Hogar: Hogar drew the Darkling Axe, spinning it around as he prepared to charge at the Chief together with the others Leofric: Leofric hoving out of the reach of an enemy flew toward the chief Beomund: Having parried the blow of the nearby wight, Beomund took a brief moment to look down at the Liche beneath him. In its cold eyes he saw himself reflected... or rather the self he had been until mere minutes ago, when he had learned that Aisha might still live. With a slight smile, he swung his hammer once more at the creature's skull. Its circlet of iron and stone shattered to pieces as the silver weapon struck it, and the Liche was no more. Leofric: Leofric dropped the shield and shifted his Shifting Blade becoming longer and longet which became a greatsword, with it special name of the Chief Hogar: Hogar suddenly rushed forward and upwards through the air, coming to face the Chief with axe and shield Edmund: Edmund fired at the Chief but this time he managed to avoid the shot. sd: Deoneath flew in behind the Chief, spear at the ready. Cynefrith lashed out at the Watchman with a clawed hand which he ducked beneath, then returned another blow that went whizzing over the Chief's head. Hogar: Hogar swung the Darkling Axe at the Chief's abdomen with tremendous force, cutting deep through hideous scarred skin and tough flesh and exposing his innards, but the demon-possessed man still stood, oblivious to the pain or perhaps even enjoying it Leofric: Leofric followed up Hogar's attack with a blow of his own but its impact is not that damaging as he expected." sd: as the party converged on the Chief, the undead guards began to swarm towards them and they knew they must kill the Chief quickly or be overwhelmed. Leofric blocked one blow, and Hogar took a vicious greataxe swing hard to the skull, setting his ears ringing. sd: seeing their desperate situation, Deoneath lunged in suicidally, ignoring all defence to float down towards the Chief and thrust his spear hard into the High King's back with all the magical strength his arm could lend him. Had it been only the Watchman's native strength and plain steel his blow would have done nothing, but, enhanced by Beomund and Leofric's magic, it thrust straight through the Chief's back and sent him crumbling to the ground with an agonised cry. Deoneath rolled, landing near Hogar and ripping his spear up and out of the Chief's body as he went in a spray of bright blood.
As the Watchman came to his feet, covered in gore, a mist rose from the body of Cynefrith of the Valing clan, filling the air. The wights around them staggered away in stunned agony, and their eyes were filled with bloody spray. They felt a force send them stumbling back as they struggled to clear their eyes. When they did, they wished they were still closed.
They had slain many a mighty enemy, enough to rival Cuto the Swift, the cunning Manehtar, or any other hero of Palanian lore. They had witnessed many terrible things, but even they felt abject horror come shrieking into their minds as they beheld the horrific form of Arkaveshirazidor.
The demon prince of torment had no real body, no solidity, no substance. To behold Arkaveshirazidor was to instead look upon a great mass of terrifying, sickening images, flickering in and out like mirages, burning themselves into their souls.
Hogar saw the Bloodied Eyes, their mighty bodies shorn of flesh and pride. They gladly abandoned all honour and betrayed one another gladly, inflicting the most horrendous torments upon one another, all to save themselves another moment of agony, for their master commanded them.
Leofric saw Sigrun, staggering forward. All her skin had been flayed from her body, and the lids had been torn from her eyes so that they stared in unblinking agony. She was upon a terrible rack, and slowly, piece by piece, her bones and flesh were torn from her and forced into her mouth by daemonic hands, as their master commanded them.
Edmund saw Annis, pierced with many arrows. She had fallen upon the shore, and there the orcs had fallen upon her. Her every orifice had been shredded with a hundred rapes, and she wept inconsolably upon the ground, begging her tormentors to show her mercy. A voice told her that her torments would end if she would just offer up her beloved, and she did so without hesitation, for her master commanded her.
Beomund's heart had welled with some brief hope, and then it swelled to see Aisha before him. He ran towards her to embrace her beloved flesh, but as he took her in his arms she drove a sharpened blade straight into his heart. She looked him in the eye and did not weep, for she had been told to show no emotion or her own torments would resume again. So she delivered Beomund to them instead, for her master commanded her
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Post by sleepingdragon on Aug 26, 2017 14:30:57 GMT
sd: a moment like an aeon passed before the party shook themselves from their horrified reveries. their wills had been tested and they knew the horrors they were witnessing would haunt their dreams - but as the mass began to move, they realised they would know no dreams, only an eternity of nightmares in the grip of the demon prince, if they didn't rouse themselves. So they threw off the shackles of their fear and gripped their weapons.
there had been a great surge from the portal as Arkaveshirazidor manifested, and this proved too much for the Liche's wights which had surrounded them - their destroyed master's spell was blasted asunder, and they dissolved like grains of sand thrown in the face of a hurricane. the mass of images began to move, each shift of its form bringing new terrors shrieking to life. a million eyes suddenly glowed across its liquid shape, and the terror that besieged their minds was now joined by agony. sd: they felt their souls assailed by awful impulses - as if their arms would turn upon them and force them to destroy themselves, as if their bones had gone rigid and their limbs solid, as if their innards had turned to acid. calling on all their reserves of courage and resilience they resisted the pain welling in their fragile bodies, and leapt forth to battle the demon. sd: Deoneath was the first to respond, leaping towards the image-body, thrusting his spear towards a horrifying face. He stabbed the enchanted spear deep into the form, but as he did the spearhead burned away, haft beginning to disintegrate. A tendril coalesced into a bloody hand and lashed out at Deoneath's leg, and the Watchman managed to interpose what remained of his spear - it was sent hurling away, but the Watchman took only minor damage. Edmund: Edmund raised the Black Bow and fired at the horrid demon. To his satisfaction, the arrow clearly wounded it. Leofric: Leofric went forward with impressive Shifting Blade in his hands and made a strike at the terrble enemy. Unlike the reaction to their ally, Deoneath. A unholy tendril went forth and prevented it from dealing a blow. Leofric swore for a moment and kept on attacking it sd: Hogar struck out as well, but Arkaveshirazidor batted his blow aside and went roiling suddenly past him, flowing like lava. Beomund came speeding in, and Leofric followed as well while Deoneath, bereft of a weapon, rushed to a fallen wight and picked up a javelin sd: Arkaveshirazidor struck out at Hogar, the air shimmering and forming the appearance of a bloody hammer. The Bloodied Eye blocked it but the sheer force was so great he took a glancing blow to the ribs. As the demon prince flowed away, new images floated across it. They saw a small child, dishevelled and naked, hair slick with sweat and fear, eyes streaming with tears. Some part of their souls recognised the young Dunstan. When he looked up towards them his eyes dissolved in their sockets leaving only red points of blood, and they heard him wail and beg his master to be allowed to return to his father's arms, whose cruelties were, at least, human. Leofric: Leofric decried the alien inhumanity of Arkaveshirazidor and made another attack with his Shifting Blade. This time, his weapon tore into the alien vision before them. The demon counter-attacked with its own gruesome way and he parried barely with the corruption damaging his Shifting Blade and took an injuiry to his abdomen. A first bitter taste of pain for long time during his adventures in this far off land. Hogar: Hogar grit his teeth and tried to find focus despite the desperate situation. Again he swung the Darkling Axe, but again the monster pushed his weapon aside and flowed around the attack. Beomund: Reaching the demon, Beomund lashed out with a heavy blow from his silver hammer, though the weapon was deeply corroded. sd: Beomund's hammer smashed the image of Dunstan hard in the face. The child fell with its brains spilling to the floor, and as it collapsed it vomited forth bile at the blacksmith. Caustic substance went pouring over his leg, searing like fire. sd: Deoneath had picked up a javelin from a fallen wight. He suppressed a gag and hurled the missile towards the demonic mass, striking it, though to only little effect as the javelin was burned away upon contact with the foul entity sd: within the creature's mass it attempted to reform some new horror where Dunstan had been, but that chunk of matter fell away, burning into the ground. clearly the demon had suffered some significant damage, though it continued to act. Within its body there coalesced a naked form, seemingly pleasuring itself, stroking vigorously, head pulled back in pleasure. As it came to focus they saw it was Erlene, and her motions were not of self-pleasure but self-destruction, bloodied hands and nails tearing at her sex as she screamed in fury and self-loathing. Edmund: Edmund quickly fired again but this time the roiling thing managed to get out of the way and his arrow flew harmlessly past. He cursed to himself and prayed for god to aid them. Leofric: Leofric threw into the bloodly fray, attempting to end this horrid demon but again, it managed to parry his skilful attack Hogar: Hogar kept attacking, thought he could do little other than keep the demon's horrid substance occupied. sd: Deoneath picked up another javelin from a fallen wight Beomund: Beomund gritted his teeth to keep from stumbling due to the searing pain in his leg. He managed to lash out and strike the roiling mass once more, though his silver hammer sunk into it, dissolving. The figure of Erlene turned toward him, crazed eyes boring into his. She sent a spray of blood and viscera from where she tore at herself, but Beomund managed to roll away and stand up quickly, now holding a hatchet at the ready. Edmund: Edmund pulled the magic flute from his belt and swiftly put it to his lips, playing to raise their hearts and spirits from the vile depravity of the demon's influence. Hogar: Hogar focused, gathering his inner strength before attacking for the fourth time against the demon's form, still a hideous mockery of Erlene. This time Arkaveshirazidor could not avoid the attack and received its full force as a chunk of its "flesh" was torn off sd: the demon was clearly in significant pain now, and its form was sloughing off as it writhed. A shrill shriek filled the air, and the daemonic portal above reverberated in time to it. At first the creature seemed to be in great pain, but they realised there was also a note of ecstatic pleasure in that crazed sound. Abruptly a new image appeared, and they were witnessing their shelter. The volunteers had been skinned and flayed, and as they looked they saw Maccus impaled upon a spike that had been driven through his rectum. His head lolled towards them, eyes filled with torment, and then the volunteers surrounded him and began to devour his flesh. sd: a new wave of agony struck at them, and Deoneath, as he bent to pick up a spear, simply collapsed. Leofric and Edmund felt their guts writhing in agony, but they were very close now - if they could just fight through this and trust in God they knew they would prevail! Leofric: espeically it is hard parry Leofric: Leofric threw himself into another bloody attack, this time, his skill was impressive enough to bypass alien and unpredictable defence and sliced the Maccus vision in half. Another withering mass fell off, covering his Shifting Blade, damaging it even further. Leofric smiled with no pity in his eyes. Leofric: Only to found himself attacked by the demon with extraorindary speed. He parried with an inspriation from Ed's fluting. sd: wait Hogar sd: as the daemonic form shuddered and pulsed, they saw Synne knelt upon the ground. Her pregnant belly was distended and reddened, her eyes filled with panic and terror. She pulled her legs apart, and as she bared her private parts to them they saw a horrific glow as of the portal above them. She gave a great groan, and a chitinous, segmented creature, bristling with spines, slick and gleaming with birthing fluid, slithered forth from her, shearing at her innards. As Synne screamed, the demon crawled up her and begin to gnaw hungrily at her breasts, drinking upon blood and milk, and then a new demon's crown thrust forth, then another, and another... Hogar: Though his limbs were battered from the demon's striking back in its spasms of pain and pleasure and the edge of his enchanted axe corroded, neither Hogar's spirit nor body would succumb yet. Calling on all of his strength he swung his damaged weapon at "Synne" and her hideous spawn, tearing a huge gash through them, though it cost him the demon's bile melting the axe's haft and most of the edge, leaving him with only his shield. Beomund: Beomund tried to follow up Hogar's blow with one of his own, but his hatchet was deflected by the demonic chitinous armor. Leofric: Leofric went forth to take advantage of the gaps offered by Hogar and Beomund's attacks but to his surprise, the demon resist his attack with unusual speed compared to others as if the demon doesn't want to get damaged by Leofric Hogar: Hogar quickly let his shield fall to the ground and reached across his back for his steel two-handed axe, unenchanted and plain but well balanced. Perhaps, at this point, it would prove enough to finish the demon off. Beomund: Beomund swung his hatchet once more, this time hacking deeply into the image of Synne. Edmund: Edmund had grabbed up his bow again and now he fired, but the arrow did not struck deeply. Edmund: edit* strike deeply sd: panting with exertion, Leofric swung hard with the Shifting Blade. It sheared deep into the demon, though as it did, the blade was eaten away with acid, leaving only the hilt and a small portion of the blade itself. A demon that had suckled at Synne's swollen teat leapt at Leofric, tearing at his arm, forcing him to drop the remnants of his sword. This interaction though caused the apparition of Synne to vanish, and Arkaveshirazidor roiled away, trying to form some new horror.
As it did, it flexed and tried to regain its shape, but at its edges the demon prince began to vibrate. They steeled themselves, expecting some final horror, and Arkaveshirazidor suddenly pulsed and flowed like liquid towards the daemonic portal with a wail of agony. The portal shimmered and the demon streaked towards its gaping mouth. An instant before it could pass through, however, a new apparition appeared, and this was outside of Arkaveshirazidor's terrible form, outside of its terrible mind. It was a man, and it was not in torment. The hero Pasekur thrust his round shield over the gaping mouth of the portal, blocking his enemy's retreat. As the liquid form of Arkaveshirazidor struck the shield it shuddered back, flowed, and for a brief instant it was solid. It tried to coalesce itself into a form like that of Cynefrith Valing, but this was not the strong form of the Chief - it was the battered, maimed, and shattered body of a soul kept in torment long after it should have gone to the grave. The last of the Valing clan was flayed and naked. With a great heave Pasekur thrust his spear out and straight through the demon's heart. There was a final horrendous, inhuman shriek of agony, and the portal exploded in a tremendous flash of light.
They flung themselves to the ground, narrowly avoiding falling debris. Hogar lifted his fallen shield and rolled to cover Deoneath's body just in time to deflect a falling shard of stone that would have smashed through the fallen Watchman's head. When the light cleared, the daemonic portal was dissolving into nothingness, and the shattered corpse of Cynefrith Valing was falling into ash. From the corner of their eyes they briefly beheld an image arise from the ash. This young man was perhaps who the High King might have been, had the outrages of treacherous humans, brutal orcs, and vile demons not been visited upon him. There was a fear in his eyes, but with the destruction of Arkaveshirazidor it was instead of a fear of the end, rather than the endless horrors the demon prince would have visited upon him. And, as the image faded, perhaps the tormented High King would find some manner of peace and healing through the power of God. Leofric: Leofric sighed with a massive sense of relief that they managed to defeat the demon prince once and for all. He start vomiting out his recent fishy breakfast out onto the blood soaked floors. Once he finished dry heaving, he stood up looking very tired, he managed to retrive the shattered remain of his Shifting Blade, his eyes saddened at the sight. Leofric: "Rest in peace, Cynefrith" He muttered to that sad soul. Beomund: Beomund, through the magic of the Torc, had managed to avoid the nauseating effects of the demon's power, but he still looked as if he'd been aged some years by the experience. Wearily he approached Leofric, glancing down at what was left of the Shifting Blade. "I'll see what I can do about that, old friend." Hogar: Still on the ground, his shield over Deoneth, Hogar silently watched the ashes of Cynefrith and the hapless spirit rising from it. When he got up he first ensured that the others were fine before looking for what was left of the Darkling Axe - it turned out that the weapon hadn't been damaged quite as badly as he thought at first, though it would still need Beomund's attentions sd: Deoneath came to with Hogar kneeling over him, shook his head, then struggled up to his knees. He tried to murmur thanks to Hogar, then his eyes rolled and he expelled the contents of his stomach out onto a dead wight. Leofric: "Thanks Beo." He thanked Beomund gratefully and eyed around at his peers so glad tos ere them all alive in this dark grey world Beomund: "We've seen many strange things," murmured Beomund as they gathered themselves. "But this is one I don't think I would believe if I hadn't witnessed it. Shall we see how the Sisters have fared?" Leofric: "And of course, our friends above on the surface, I hope they are faring well." He also frowned, concerned for the fate of the city Hogar: "You'll live."said Hogar to Deoneth, helping him get up "Though your job will be far less interesting, I suspect."he added with a faint smile Edmund: Edmund, too, was violently sick. As he wiped his mouth he smiled weakly at Leofric. "All our futures will be much improved by this day's work," he said quietly. Leofric: Leofric smiled in return, "Let the furture will be bright indeed. I will look forward to hearing this particular adventure in song." He grinned wider Edmund is disconnected. sd: they collected themselves and departed, dragging their two captives with them. As the Chief's body was gone, Deoneath beheaded the Liche and brought the head with them as proof they had won. After reaching the barricade the Dreadnoughts had built, they waited until Sigrun shortly contacted them by telepathy. The battle aboveground was still being waged, and it was some hours before a score of Watchmen arrived to bring them back up aboveground.
The party themselves were exhausted with their exertions, and therefore could not join in the ensuing three days of battle as the monstrous forces were utterly driven from East Phalen. When it became clear to them that the Chief and the Liche had been killed they lost all semblance of cohesion. Their friends had done well on the battlefield. The most serious injury had gone to Atol of Parwick, who had been struck with an arrow - though the wound itself was shallow, the shaft had been poisoned and he had fallen stricken beneath a pile of bodies. He ought to have died, but Dunstan, who had been drafted in to provide medical aid, had spotted him trying to pull himself under the mound of corpses, and fashioning a crude antivenom from materials on a fallen goblin shaman saved the mercenary's life. Erlene meanwhile had served with a group of elite rangers who had harried the enemy from the rear throughout the action, and had slain three orcish clan kings in as many days.
The day after the fighting died down and the Council proclaimed their victory, an image of Sidwell appeared before them at breakfast. The Soiled Sisters' attack on Docktown had gone far better than they had dared to hope. The slavers had been arrogant and certain that they would not be under threat so far to the east, and th Sisters' attack came when many of the enemy were dead drunk. They had wreaked a tremendous slaughter on the slavers and had rescued over a thousand souls who would otherwise have been condemned to thralldom in far-off lands. Every ship had been either incorporated into the Sisters' fleet or, if they did not have enough hands to sail it, sunk to the bottom of the ocean, and Docktown was utterly razed. Of the Sisters, Estra had been slain by a stray javelin. Annis had survived without a scratch, save those to her axe, which was notched where it had spilt open an orc's skull.
Soon the Sisters returned back to Phalen, their ships taken to be returned to their original owners, and the civilian population of Phalen given orders to be ready to return to the city. But they could not rest now, and they spoke to Ebrard, asking that a crew and one ship would be loaned to them. In the days that had passed, Beomund and Leofric had had time to decode the journal of the slaver Sperling, and with its contents known to them they knew they would need to set out as soon as they could. Aisha was alive but enslaved, held in a land at war with the Council of Palania, in a land where those who followed the Virian Way were punished with death.
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