Open Chronicles Battle of Shay Tirloc

A roleplay open for anyone to join
Shay Tirloc or "the Twin Stalagmites" was so named for the pair of massive stalagmites that sprung up from the city center, extending all the way from the base of the cavern it occupied to the ceiling. At over fifty meters thick, the solid stone had been hewn out by Drow slaves many centuries ago. Stairs and rooms filled the towers from bottom to top and long suspensions and wooden platforms had been strung between the stalagmites that made up the center of the city.

Only those of highest honors were permitted within the tunnels and suspensions of the towers and status was measured by the proximity that one found themselves to the towers. At the far edges of the city, slums overflowed even spreading beyond the walls that had been erected to protect the occupants from the dangers of the underrealm beyond.

It was into this place that Zathria marched the army of the Onyx Throne. Company on company spread out through the tunnels before her. Already the scout companies had engaged in a few scattered skirmishes and the light Vornyx cavalry had driven off a few probing attacks of the forces of Shay Tirloc. The lead Matriarch of the city - a woman whose name Zathria could neither remember nor did she care about as she would soon be without a head - would know they were coming and would be ready. The city at the behest of their leader had reportedly strung up Vyx'aria's messengers by their entrails and hung them from the upper levels of the suspensions as a message of defiance and support for that traitor Dalrithia.

Zathria would make her wish for such a quick death.

Her face was almost glowing as the walls of the tower came into view. The skirmishes and scavenging of the surface was nothing compared to the thrill and even fear (though she would never admit the latter part aloud) of leading a full-scale assault.

I want scouts probing the walls for weaknesses or entry points and light cavalry set up on the flanks to screen, she said, starting to issue orders to the captains gathered around her who had been selected as command staff for the march against the city.

First Siege Company will batter the gate under cover of ranged companies and the catapults Siege Companies Two and Three. Infantry and heavy cavalry in reserve until we've found our breach point. Go. Make it so! she said and the officers began to scatter to their posts and the army came into position. She knew they had some tricks up their sleeve for this battle and she could already feel her heart beginning to beat a little quicker.

As the army came into position, Zathria, right hand of the Queen and Rahi’Valsharess, rode forward to the front of the army, rubbing the small stone in her hand to activate the spell that would carry her voice to be hold by all nearby.

I look out at this city and I see a reality that I refuse to accept. A reality where my comrades... she pointed out to the bodies hung far in the distance, where she knew they were food for the cave carrion ...are strung up and defiled for the greed of an absent ruler! Where our people are broken and scattered, driven about by the whims of foolish leaders who would tell you to squander your birthright! she said, pausing just a moment to let the memory of what the Onyx Kingdom had once been settle into their minds. To let them remember the dominion the Drow had once held over all the Underrealm.

But I look out at you and I see another reality. A reality where the Drow once again stand unified. Where we can stand shoulder to shoulder in pride knowing that we not only met but surpassed the exploits of our ancestors. Where we no longer live in fear of the other kingdoms because none would dare raise a sword against us! she shouted, the emotions rising within her with each word because it was truth. She fought for a vision of what had almost been and could yet still be.

We each heard the call of the Onyx Throne, and when my Queen asked who would go to change reality, I said "here am I, send me!" Because the world I see when I look out at you is one that I will fight for! One that I will die for! And whoever bleeds alongside me today does so for that future! For unity! For the Onyx Throne! she said, pulling free her sword and thrusting it into the air. Her cry poured out as if from her very soul, a visceral part of her poured into the sound that reflected what lay at her heart: true belief.

The chant was taken up by the ranks as the yells echoed and reverberated off the walls, shaking Zathria's bones as it carried unmistakably up to the very peak of the twin spires. It washed like a wave over the city and its enemies, shaking resolve and morale before even the first arrow was fired.

The reclamation of the throne was won, but the battle for Shay Tirloc was only beginning.
 
“How.. enticing”

From behind the drow commander, a long serpent-like figure emerged from the ground itself like a ghost. It was a dragon, with cold purple scales and piercing silver eyes; the creature was adorned with shawls of spider silk and finely polished jewelry. The rarely seen dragon of Maelzafan who towered over Zahria like a lion before a mouse.

“I had assumed that the rabble at the capitol was nothing more than noble houses drawing wasted blood with empty bravado” Hebemarri said, her voice deep and sly: with a hiss to her inflection. “So imagine my surprise when a priestess told me that the Onyx throne was marshaling a host to reclaim lost holdings.”

The purple dragon bowed to Zahria, lowering her head to eye level with the drow. It was clear at this distance that Hebemarri could rend the robust drow in half with a single bite of her monstrous jaws. But those jaws did not snap, merely flash a grin Zahria had surely seen countless times on the faces of noblewomen deep in their schemes and machinations.

“Such unity. Such ambition, it pleases the Dark Mother. And, as the instrument of her will, I am pleased just as well…”

Hebemarri nudged Zahria with her snout in an affectionate gesture, like she was kissing the back of a maidan’s hand.

“So let it be known…” Hebemarri continued, slinking past the drow to where the onyx throne forces were gathered. “That your mistress has stirred Great Maelzafan’s dragon, and the Priesthood offers its blessing to this campaign.”

—then, Hebemarri suddenly stood on her hind legs and unfurled her wings while facing Zaharia’s assorted troops. The dragon now stood no less than 30ft tall and her wings stretched nearly 60ft across. Scales and gemstones sparkled in the cave light while her silks were filled with a dark magical glow.

“SISTERS!” Hebemarri proclaimed, her voice booming and grand.

“WHAT YOU FACE TODAY ARE NOT DROW, BUT VERMIN!” All eyes were on the dragon with many in attendance overwhelmed by a sense of witnessing the sublime. “THEY DESECRATE A MONUMENT TO THE DARK MOTHER’S GREATNESS, TURNING THEIR BACKS ON THE TRUTH BECAUSE IT WOULD REVEAL THEIR LESSER NATURE!”

A furvor was beginning to grip the soldiers as Hebemarri spared no kindness in her debasing of the defending forces. Calling them treacherous filth that was underserving of any mercy. How they were a blight on drowkind that only felt strong because the noble houses had been too busy infighting.

“…SO LET IT BE KNOWN THAT HERE YOU MARCH FOR DIVINE VENGENCE AND THE WILL OF MAELZAFAN! SPARE NONE BUT THOSE WHO ARE TO BE CLAIMED AS SLAVES! A RIVER OF BLOOD AND THE SCREAMS OF DYING HERETICS SHALL MARK THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THE ONYX THRONE’S DIVINE AMBITION!”

The drow cheered, victory seemed won before the first arrow had loosed. Their battlelust was enough to rival a legion of orcs, like a torrent held back by the flimsiest of dams.

“FOR THE DARK MOTHER!!” Hebemarri commanded, and with that, the floodgates were shattered.
 
At first it was nothing, a wisp of vapour on the tunnel wind but it grew features and hair and a cape and dripped dark blood on the ground as it half stumbled half walked into both visibility and the presence of Zathria and Hebemarri.

"Muh... Mistress Za..."
Sazalam's voice failed him and he doubted he could be heard over the cheering but he stumbled onward collapsing a short distance from her feet. He had attempted to turn his fall into a kneel but his leg gave out completely under him. Black blood ebbed from his lips as he stared up at her and held out a single object in his shaking fist as his other hand closed over his belly where the wound stained his clothes.

It was a dagger, not of their kinds making but familiar to all in its crude efficiency and slick with his own blood.
"Orcs... south tunnel... hur... hundreds..."

The cheering had died down somewhat.
"Coming... they ah... they are coming..."

For an infinite instant Sazalam closed his eyes and almost slipped into that waking ever dark of promise but he had one more thing, one more moment yet to serve and with a haggard breath his body jolted and he spoke again.
"Must... collapse... tunnel..."