Open Chronicles Conquest of Paradise

[Thrukk Guldarp]

The palisades didn't enough room for the entire host to stand with a view of the ground outside. Thrukk barged his way up to one of the platforms through a group of men. He looked out at the host of things rushing for the palisades.

With a shrug he gave up his space for crossbowmen. Whilst he would have liked a spot to watch and defend it made more sense to thin the ranks.

Thrukk stood on the safe side of the wooden walls, resting the head of his warhammer on the ground. The sounds on the other side were horrifying. He could see movement though the slightest cracks in the wooden posts.

The first of them managed to clamber up. A human with a face covered in a yellow fuzz. Thrukk thrust the head of his warhammer forwards, striking the thing square in the centre of what should have been a face, sending it tumbling away.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

"Do not touch him-" Amore cleared the crowd surrounding the ailing Eusebius, her eyes immediately fixing upon Simocatta, "stay away. The spores are contagious."

Far too alarmed by the similarities of the journal to the dying man, the Priestess pulled the book from her robe pocket and pressed it into Kishou's grasp, "Something in here will tell us the source." She'd not read the entire thing, not had the time to, and she assumed the same for him. The woman's eyes locked intensely with his own for a moment, the faint line of a frown pulling at her lips, "Find it."

She turned back to Eusebius' body, motioning for the others surrounding him to clear away, "Heed your Captain, get to the walls! Simocatta-" hands lifted over the infested body, Amore's eyes lit up like heated coals, "you must leave him."

As the crowd dispersed in equal parts fear and purpose, her uttered words were lost to the wailing of monsters and the battle cries of men. Eusebius' body went up in flames colored by a sickly green.

 

[childish brandino]

The foreigner wasted no time and began to flip through the pages as the book was transferred to his possession. He did not look up from the journal even as a vile green inferno consumed the Allirian. As he read, he rushed to his tent and armed himself with his two swords and armor.

He elected to skip over the pages he read already, instead reading over those he skipped earlier in the day. About midway, before the journal showed signs of a fraying mind, he found a page where the captain reflected on a recurring dream. The description was oddly specific, and the captain wrote in detail how he had visions of a particularly large tree, with an ominous aura coming from it.

The tree itself broke through the canopy. It appeared many times to me in my sleep. A thick trunk, with long, twisting branches that reached out, appearing to consume the entirety of the forest. It was a massive thing. As it appeared to me in my dreams, when I recall seeing it, I felt as if something were staring back at me. ​

Kishou let a sigh escape his nostrils, and he clapped the journal shut. He returned to Eusebius' smoldering corpse and approached the priestess. He was unsure of how to address her.

"Sister," The word was awkwardly spoken, yet what followed was anything but, "He wrote of a recurring dream. A tree, unnaturally large. The dream came to him only after the camp was exposed to this affliction, and he wrote that in the dream, he felt as if something watched him."

He recalled seeing a single tree rise above the rest when they disembarked the Cortosi warship. It was more inland, but not far from the fort. He extended the journal to her.

"It's mere speculation, but I believe the tree to be the source. I would go myself, but I have no method of destroying it." His eyes met hers, "I need your help."

 

[Amalric Urahil]

The wave of thrashing bodies slammed against the wooden palisade and they began to clamber over each other to reach the top. Diego fires down at them from the watchtower with a crossbow, but they seemed not to care for the prick of the bolts, only falling when pierced through the brain.

“Aim for their heads!” He shouted as he stuck his boot through the loop and restrung the crossbow, fitted another bolt into place, and fired.

 

[Ferran el Machir]

The horde covered the distance from the trees with alarming speed. Ferran was still loading his second bolt by the time the first ones were starting their climb up the palisade.

At this range he couldn't miss. The bolt hit the creature with enough force to pitch it off the logs. Then it was time for hand to hand.

There was no room to swing his sword. Ferran punched it full force in the face with the hilt of his blade. The impact jarred his arm but it had a deathgrip on the palisade. He stepped back to avoid a clawed hand, the beast howling before clambering onto the platform.

 

[Fennec]

A rattling, rumbling snarl, low and constant like the distant buzz of warfare, followed the ghastly panther as it lead Muirin away from the sounds and towards the western walls. Soundless, it followed a footpath towards a lone entry gate too small for a horse to pass but large enough for a man and his Oni guide. With a hiss the creature pressed through the wooden wall, all smoke and wisps until it pooled on the other side.

Muirin could unlatch the door, of course. There the Oni waited, haunted gaze gleaming with expectancy as the man joined it once again and off it went. Their path did not take them into the fray, but away from it and into the jungle along that same footpath.

 

[Muirin]

Muirin followed his misty guide away from the distant sound of a thundering horde, cursing quietly to himself. He was lucky to have had his falchion with him before leaving camp, but he still felt rather naked without proper time to prepare himself. The only option other than following may as well be a death sentence, though, and there was nothing the scoundrel valued more than his own wretched life.

The door was easy enough to unlatch, making the panther's display of its phantasmal form rather comedic by comparison. Tragically, Muirin was hardly in a laughing mood, and only retrospect could ever lighten his perspective on the current state of affairs. The path ahead was unknowably long, after all, and doubtlessly stalked by any number of the jungle's residents. Heavy sword in hand, the scoundrel continued unabashed and hacked away at any foliage that dared to cross his path.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

Though Eusebius was not a devout Cortosi she performed the ritual prayer over his smoldering body all the same. No matter what God he prayed to, the man had served her people in good faith. Tonight he gave his life for them. Her hands were crossing the air before her in the gesture of faith as she wound down the prayer into its final amens - Kishou's voice cut through the last syllables as a honed blade might through flesh.

Eyes the color of the sky before a summer storm shifted upwards to those of dark steel, taking in their sense of urgency with a stoic nod.

"If we are to survive," screams from the palisade drew her gaze as the first creatures breached the top and lay into the men attempting to batter them away, "we must go at once ... come with me, Forastero."

Taking up her staff she turned in a flury of black and golden robes, the red of her hair catching in the light of torches they passed by. Amore lead the man back through the buildings to the stable, "Domador! My horse! Con rapidez!"

"Si, Priestess - Cortez awaits!" Carrera, ever a man of forward thinking, had readied several horses at the first sound of disquiet this evening. He lead the great golden stallion forward, bedecked in his battle ensemble, brilliant and furious as the sun itself. Amore mounted, boots clinging in the stirrups, and offered Kishou her free hand, "get on, we will be faster on one horse."

 

[childish brandino]

The foreigner nodded in response and remained silent as he followed the priestess. He did not look back at the cries of men and the unnatural shrieks of the horrific beings. He thought only of their task. Finding the source deep within the jungle would quite literally be a shot in the dark. The swordsman had a general idea in what direction they should go. He shuddered to think of the consequences if he was wrong. He humored himself with the thought of spending his last moments with the priestess and decided it would not be the worst way to die.

He watched as the horse, noble and beautiful as it appeared, was led to them. The priestess climbed up and a hand, much smaller than his, reached down to him. He did not hesitate to grab it, pulling himself up and seating himself behind her. He was unsure of where to put his hands, and leaned back to avoid burying his face into crimson locks of hair. From where their bodies did touch, he felt an unnatural warmth. He felt some appreciation for the situation he found himself in, despite the circumstances outside of the stable.

"If we ride towards the moons, the source should be in that direction."

 

[Thrukk Guldarp]

“Aim for their heads!”

"Ye ur in luck! That's th' part ah can see!" Thrukk called up towards the watchtower. He knew full well that the command hadnt been intended for him. Often it seem as if the ogre was paying no attention to his surroundings, but Thrukk had particularly selective hearing. Where there was the chance of a quip or there had been an insult in his direction, he could pick up a conversation at a hundred paces.

Two more started to appear over the palisade. Crossbow bolts adorned their shoulders. Thrukk swung his warhammer and crushed a skull. The second swing was wide, but even these things could not climb with a shattered shoulder.

He heard a creak of the palisade starting to shift under the weight being thrown against it.

"Ah, fook," he muttered. The section before him started to lean in towards the defence. Thrukk through his shoulder into it, keeping it upright.

Breaker of doors. Supporter of fence posts.

 

[Fennec]

Muirin's swinging arm caught a lucky downswipe, cleaving clear through a branch and slamming square into the skull of a smaller creature. It looked like some sort of monkey-beast and screeched like one, too, as the last of its dying breath exited its lungs in an expression of both shock and immediate numbing pain.

They had passed relatively unscathed thus far as it seemed most of the infected horde had made way for the fort en masse, but the screech caught the sound of other such monkey beasts. They also traveled in groups, and judging by the incredible range of sizes and relative ages presented as they appeared, scattering and chattering through the upward branches, whatever was effecting this island was doing a very thorough job.

SCREEEEEEEE.

The panther geist turned a caught one in a puff of billowing smoke as it dropped from the canopy, a flash of teeth and claws within its mouldering mass rending the little body in twain. This did not make a good impression on the rest and they all attacked in unison.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

The moons.

Amore turned her gaze towards the skies - mercifully clear tonight - and found the heading of the moons far off to the east, leading deep into the jungle.

"Domador," she reigned Cortez about, reeling in the reigns as his eyes bulged from the sounds of the beasts at the southern walls, "open the front gate."

"M'lady?"

"We cannot leave by the horde, open the front gate!"

Carrera nodded and sprinted ahead of them, Amore heeling the horse to follow at a heated trot. Carrera pushed the massive latch open, peeling open the leftmost gate door to permit them beyond and watched as the pair hurried out in a flash of gold, red, and white.

Holding her staff head up over the ears of their mount, Amore drew him around to the left and urged him down along the path outside of the palisade, "We'll clear the area just beyond the palisade for the men, give them a chance. Have your sword ready."

 

[childish brandino]

Single edged iron, painstakingly forged to perfection, rasped as it was drawn from its scabbard. His free hand tightly gripped her waist as he shifted to the side to allow for easier swinging.

“Tea, now this?” He called to her, tone full of amusement, “You certainly bring much excitement.”

A different manner of amusement washed over Kishou the moment his blade passed through festered flesh. Again and again, he swung through the creatures that clumped under the palisades. All the while ecstasy coursed through his veins.

 

[Muirin]

Muirin nearly froze as he felt the telltale 'thunk' of something solid beneath his blade. He reared the weapon back, pulling the small creature with as it gave out a dying wail. Before he could make any move to boot the monkey from his blade, a resounding call echoed through the trees above, and the scoundrel felt his blood run cold. Howling cries melded into one cacophony of inescapable noise, and the Oni made its move in a flash of foggy motion.

The creatures fell. They fell like the rain; like hailstones; like a dozen fists all clawing and scratching for blood.

Muirin tried to wrestle his sword free of its previous mark, but the downpour came before the blade gave way. One of the heftier beasts managed to land between his shoulder blades, kicking the sellsword forward and sending his weapon scattering across the ground. The fungal ape managed to hang on, gripping the scoundrel's head roughly and attempting to sink its teeth into his shoulder.

A shout like thunder echoed through the forest. If the previous hooting and hollering hadn't been enough to notify the spirit of their location, the screaming probably didn't help. Muirin reached back and grappled the creature by its skull, ripping it from his back with the telltale rip of tearing fabric and cracking it against the trunk of a nearby tree. The scent of a summer storm permeated the forest once the scoundrel brought his fists to bear. More beasts came, and each one was met with a brawler's fury. Before long, two more of the infected animals had joined the first few as crumpled heaps whining on the ground.

 

[Fennec]

The cries of the slain beasts echoed weirdly into the distance, fading in and out as pale smoke drew from open jowls and into the Oni, coalescing as a miasma of spirit energies. The Oni's beady gaze glowed vibrantly as the last creature fell, a hollow chuff echoing from its formless mouth before it turned and stalked further in through the weeds.

Muirin and his guide found the rest of their journey unimpeded - at least by the beastly variety. The jungle was as thick as it was rageful, leaving the scalawag to chop his way through dense overgrowth. Poor thing had to work up a sweat. Unforgiving jungle trees thinned slowly, the ground beneath his feet growing soggy. Soon enough his boots were ankle deep in bog water, and when the forest gave way to an open sky he was granted nothing but the vision of a massive tree stretching upwards far into the night sky.

It nearly reached the moon.

A putrid green glow filled hollows along the trunk and the essence of the arcane lingered strongly on the air. A man's hair might stand on end to think he was being watched by the tree itself - not so far from the truth.

The Oni's ghastly figure traipsed out along the waters surrounding the base, pausing halfway to look back at Muirin.

 

[Muirin]

Muirin grumbled and cursed quietly to himself as he slogged onward, trying his best to ignore the white hot lashes he'd received across his forearms during their previous fight against the fungal primates. With any hope, capturing this spirit would be the end of their issues, and he could worry about such puny injuries later. His cursing momentarily grew more pronounced as one obstacle was replaced with another - Just as soon as the strangling trees began to fall away, the scoundrel was sloshing through water that threatened to spill into his boots with every stride.

There were few things Muirin hated more than walking on wet socks.

Luckily, he wouldn't need to walk for long, soon stunned into stillness by the sight of a massive tree on their path ahead. Even at the distance he stood, the billow of grim energy sloughing from within its bark was enough to make his arm hair stand on end. His fists clenched, one hand testing its grip on his sword. Something about the spirit's choice of locale made him terribly, horribly frustrated. "Glad ee's got an oiye fer scenery, a' least," Muirin growled to himself, trudging along after the oni who had so politely turned to beckon him forward.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

The Priestess would have smiled at the man's remark were it not for the surge of beasts at their front. Cortez reared, striking out with his front hooves and knocking a particularly large creature flat to the ground, trampling over it for good measure.

"Credit where it is due-" Amore managed back to him as she heeled Cortez forward into the horde, "the world provides the excitement, I merely rise to the occasion."

A low utterance followed her words as the woman raised her staff high into the air above them, an incantation flowing from her lips. The head of the golden staff began to glow, creatures converging at their flanks in numbers exceeding that which a single sword could fell quickly enough. Even the help of the archers from high above on the palisade did little to quell the wave of beasts, big and small.

The glowing grew more intense, beginning to pulse in brightness, the mantra growing louder and echoing above the din. Amore then plunged the staff's base downwards into the ground, expelling a brilliant and shuddering force of divine white light in an arc about them. Creatures toppled like trees in an explosion, some entirely blown apart, others merely stunned. Divine powers, apparently, had no lingering effect. These were not beasts of darkness after all.

"Captain!" the Priestess reined her horse about, looking upwards, "Get the men to safety on the ships, we will find the source!"

Go, she urged Cortez with a kick, steering the stallion into the beasts now slowly rising again and running them down. Soon the Priestess and Forastero were swallowed by the jungle on their galloping steed.

 

[Amalric Urahil]

Thrust.

Punch.

Stab.

Repeat. Invigorating work, really, Diego just wished he did not fear that every inhalation from his beleaguered lungs would bring foul infection.

Suddenly, he heard a cry from the priestess down below. What in the blackness was she talking about? The source?

"Eh, what?"

He skewered another monstrosity through the eyehole and watched it slide backward off his rapier to collapse onto the snapping horde below. He glanced back as Pedro stepped in to take his place, hacking and stabbing at the climbing beasties.

Suddenly, the priestess obliterated an entire wave of the mushroom demons and stunned the rest. Diego gaped, half-blind, and then looked back at her to find her galloping away.

Amore and Kishou appeared to be running off into the jungle! He couldn't just leave them there... could he? He looked backed down as a fungus-faced frogman swayed woozily near the palisade.

Yes, yes he could.

"Back to the boats!" He roared, clambering down and mounting his own warhorse. "Fast as you can!"

The men made a rush of it, hacking down anything that stood in their path as they sprinted for the beach and the safety of the ship.

 

[childish brandino]

Kishou had to shield his eyes as the priestess displayed again her impressive magic. When his arm lowered, he could see ashes fall around him. The putrid smell of smoldered, festered flesh assailed his nostrils.

He cast a single look over his shoulder to the palisades as they became consumed by the treeline. It seemed Diego had, indeed, ordered a retreat. The fort disappeared from sight, but he could hear the distant sound of the palisade coming down.

The foreigner maintained vigilance as they made their way through the jungle, fully prepared for something to lash out from the darkness at any moment.

 

[Ferran el Machir]

To the boats.

Never get out of the boat. Absolutely godsdamn right. Unless you're going all the way.

The boats, the water, it represented safety in his mind. Out there he was the one who commanded. Away from this nightmare on land. Others tore past him, cutting a path towards the boats. If land had continued they'd have run all the way back to Alliria. Leave Nagai to the Naga.

The promise of safety lent him strength. A clawed hand grabbed at his arm. Ferran hacked it off at the wrist. It gawped at the bleeding stump a moment before his back slash took his head off. Ordinarily he'd never have managed it but the creatures....seemed more like a plant than person. It was easier than cutting firewood.

 

[Fennec]

The Oni remained hovering in its effervescent form with apparent patience for the scalawag to catch up. As his boots sloshed by en route to the tree, the dark fog folded in on itself, beady red eyes closing and dissipating from sight to form a clouded mass in his wake. Encircling the man, it billowed upwards around him before very suddenly surging inwards around his face.

He'd feel himself caught midair, the wind choked out of him as the smoke poured in through his mouth and nostrils. It tasted of ash and smelled of death, fogging up his vision until his eyes blinked open in a bright red glow.

Muirin, fully conscious but seemingly without autonomy of his own body now, found his lips moving and his chest bellowing out words in a language he did not know. Words that held great power over the spirit realm and invoked that eldar being inhabiting the tree to show itself. Compelled to stride forward towards the tree, to draw his sword and raise it upwards to the sky, he called upon his powers with a command and control well beyond that which he'd ever managed on his own.

 

[Thrukk Guldarp]

Thrukk had given up on his warhammer, throwing it over his shoulder. Now he wielded one of the thick posts that had been olding up the palisades. Under scared, leathery skin the bulk of his muscles heaved and flexed as he swung the post, which was as long as two men.

As he backed towards the water he swung it in wide sweeps, clearing a great swathe before him. Thrukk had quickly decided that he didn't want any of these monsters close to him.

Several of the cortosi had rushed off into the horde. Thrukk paid that no heed. If they wanted to make a heroic last stand and die then that was on them. Thrukk wanted to enjoy his ill-gotten gains at the first inn at the docks on their return. The kind of place where the men would be brave enough to pick a fight and the women brave enough to consider a tumble with an ogre.

And cheap beer by the bucket.

Thrukk wanted to live for all the good things in life.

 

[Muirin]

Muirin was surprised to see the Oni fade into an indistinct cloud, and it was upon him before he could give his question a voice. The words were strangled in his throat as smoke forced its way into his lungs, choking the scoundrel down onto one knee before his eyes blinked open with renewed purpose. The Oni's weight upon his chest ebbed and flowed, forcing words across the man's tongue in a language he couldn't begin to comprehend. Slowly, the leash Maziri had placed upon the scoundrel's Gift began to loosen, and the storm that raged within him was focused by the shaman's distant hand.

His weapon raised to the sky on what felt like its own will, and a distant rumble heralded what was to come- Muirin cleaved downward, hacking his heavy sword into the infested tree with a deafening crack of thunder which pealed across the island. Blue light flashed harshly against the infectious green glow of the tree's malefactor, and the spirit was ripped free from its host as the scoundrel tore his falchion back out of its trunk.

 

[Amorea Delarosa]

Beyond a dozen or so meters the trail seemed to thin out, leaving Amore to believe that the previous engagement of men on this island had not faired well for long. Cut and cleared branches diminished while overgrowth claimed the path. Cortez was forced to slow his gait, bobbing and weaving through the thicket. The Priestess held up her staff as they came upon a wall of vines, aerial roots, and interwoven trees. Ahead the sounds of a storm brewing on the horizon rumbled in through the jungle, behind them the distant sounds of the beasts and monsters tearing apart of the encampment, and above...

"What is that sound?" Amore glanced back at Kishou over her shoulder, reining the horse around to try and find a clearer path.

Screeching, the sound of leaves rustling, branches groaning. Movement above.

"Ligera..." the word cast a brilliant glow within the sunstone set into the top of her staff, illuminating the immediate area and casting light into the myriad eyes now surrounding them. Creatures in the branches hissed and fled, sending the canopy trembling in the wake of their retreat from the light.

And then something massive came flying out from above and landed directly on Kishou with the weight of a boulder. It hollered and screeched and sent Cortez flying sideways, unseating both riders in the process before taking off into the thicket.

 

[childish brandino]

“Something above,” He said. When she shone the light on their surroundings, he flinched and raised his sword arm.

Kishou’s preparedness did little for him when the creature descended from the darkness onto him. He managed to bring his arms up to protect himself, but the sheer weight of the creature knocked the air from his lungs. The creature latched onto him, but before it could pull him away, he drew the shorter of his two swords and drove the point into flesh. He only had a general idea of the shape and size of the beast. Its screech was shrill, and caused his ears to ring. Then, it took off.

Kishou fell from Cortez, and roughly landed on his back. What little air he managed to breathe back into his lungs was taken from him upon impact. He found himself gasping and writhing in the dirt for a moment.

The foliage around them began to rustle. Still trying to settle his breathing, Kishou clambered to his feet, taking his swords into each hand and unsteadily walking to Amore.

“Come now,” His words came between gasps. The swordsman leaned down, and with his sword still in hand, grabbed above her elbow to help her stand, “We cannot linger here.”