Fable - Ask Extirpation

[Yrael]

The words hung heavy in the air. Vel Senn... a ghost city. Destroyed beyond redemption during the Third Elven War. Admittedly he had retained few details about it from his schooling. Cities that fell did not concern him so much as those that stood. It was a preference that his teachers had warned him against. "Failure is the greatest teacher," they had told him. Perhaps it would have been prudent to study the failings of Vel Senn more thoroughly, but such was the nature of hindsight.

He let Vittorio's words drift, his mind rapidly considering the options. This group would likely be larger, stronger, and more zealous than they had anticipated. The company of knights he had brought would not be nearly enough. However, he was now in the company of three additional Dreadlords, a host of Virak soldiers, and Elise Virak herself.

They did not have time to wait for more men, and, as prideful as it was, Yrael did not believe they needed any more. He found himself agreeing with the Baroness. Time was of the essence.

"HEALER," he called to his knights, his voice amplified several times so that they would hear. A lone figure ran towards the group. Their armor was largely the same as the others, except they bore ornate wings upon their helmet and pauldrons. "Restore the energy of our companions," he ordered. "We march to Vel Senn on the hour."

His eyes met Elise's, then Vittorio's, Florinthe's, and Hal's in turn. The gesture was one of alliance, but it was also to conceal his own need for replenishment. Those who had just arrived had not freshly destroyed a village, after all, and he would do well to have that remedied.

The healer nodded, and began drawing arcane symbols on the ground. They were a dreadlord themselves, a fourth level whose name Yrael had never bothered to learn. Within ten minutes they asked those in need to stand in a circle, and the ritual began. Anyone taking part would feel their strength return and their magical reserves refilled, at least partially.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

She knew little about Vel Senn itself, she'd studied tactics of the wars, but never the context, culture, or substance. The next stage of this mission might prove interesting, although she just wished she were in better company than the soulless Princess Elise.

Instead, Florinthe focused her attention onto Yrael. She was amazed at his endurance, he'd levelled an entire settlement and was still rearing to go fight another battle and here she was, breathless and hungry from her own expenditure. She needed to get better, she always used too much magic to achieve her goals, she needed to be more efficient like him.

Thankfully, he called over one of the accompanying healers from his contingency, and Florinthe eagerly stepped into the centre of the ritual. "Thanks for this." She muttered to no one in particular and awaited replenishment.

 

[Vittorio]

"Bothersome." He muttered. Another day, another insurgency. Vittorio didn't know much about Vel Senn other than the war attached to it. it would make a great deal of sense if a rebellion sparked there as it had symbolism. Extremists always felt the need to attach some sort of meaning to their destruction, even if it was just destruction. Pity. He found most Falwood elves charming and endearing. His joy of knowing they've organized would not prevent his task at hand. He was a weapon firs

The healer looked towards Vittorio but he waved them off.

"Do you not need your stamina returned?" They asked in kind.

"Your magic will not affect me." Vittorio stated toward the healer Dreadlord. They gave Vittorio a wary look but continued to heal the others. The eccentric approached Yrael once more.

"If you have no quarrel with it, I'm going to get a head start. I have energy to spare due to my late arrival and I figure a scouting party could do no harm." He held his head low and awaited a response.

 

[Elise Virak]

One of the Healers was scared off by a simple look from Elise, her stare enough to turn a fire itself into an icicle.

The man simply shirked away, and then Elise turned towards Barin. Vel Senn was a lost city, abandoned long ago, but it was still an Anirian City. It had walls, buildings, and even a keep. She could not recall what state it had been in, but it was likely the Renegades had taken up home in the most defensible position.

"Get me my sword and armor from the Keep, meet us outside Vel Senn." Barin perked an eyebrow, but then quickly nodded and darted for the nearest horse.

Unfortunately for them the Virak Winter Castle had no standing garrison. A dozen servants were all that made their home there now, the situation only changing when Elise herself attended the estate.

Still, she could at least have her armor.

For now she would allow Yrael to take charge of their gathered forces. Elise knew she was no battlefield commander, and though he served the King, she knew in this their goal was one in the same.

In short order The Virak House Guard gathered themselves together, preparing to move out.

 

[Yrael]

Yrael nodded at Vittorio's request. A scout would indeed be useful, and this one was already familiar with the territory. Far more than any of them, if the stories were true. "We will regroup with you outside the city."

The healer's magic flowed through him, and he let the sweet relief take him for a glorious few seconds. He felt his strength return, his energy replenish. He stood taller, breathed more easily. Afterwards, he waved the healer off to tend to the other soldiers. He appreciated their service, but still held little respect for the profession. He saw them as a convenience, not a necessity.

When the hour approached, he gave the order to move out. The small royal company marched as one, with Yrael some distance to the side, closer to the other dreadlords.

The walk would be long, but they should reach the city by nightfall. With luck the rebels would not be expecting them. He doubted this. They had ensured no survivors from the battle, but the archers had been sent quickly after the village was destroyed. Clearly they had been in communication with the settlement, and who know what magics they used to send messages?

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe felt a cold chill wash over her, life breathed its way back into the young storm mage. Everything about her felt lighter, more whole, as magic was forcibly infused into her. She revelled in the sensation of being brought to full strength and, almost as if on cue, the guard she had paid to collect her weapons returned with them. He'd even taken the time clean them. Cute.

She led the knight to her horse and, without asking, he stocked her saddles with the collected weapons. He lingered for a few moments as if expecting something, but she was simply trotted off and left the man to his own devices. It didn't take long for the rest of the party to head off and she, once again, found herself avoiding Elise and the other Virak guards and, instead, trailing behind master Yrael.

"Is there anything you'd like me to do Master Yrael?" She spoke slowly and softly towards her senior Dreadlord.

 

[Elise Virak]

Elise's guard followed behind the Dreadlord and Royal Forces. They did not do this to stay away, but instead acted as a rearguard force.

The Baroness herself stuck somewhere in the middle of them all, now riding atop a great black stallion instead of her carriage. She was not foolish enough to take the damned thing into a combat zone, knowing it would only slow their progress.

Barrin would meet up with them near Vel Senn, his orders to get her armor being as important as this mission itself.

Quickly they made their way.

In her head Elise played over the events of the day, the attack on the village, the foolish counter by the elves. None of it made any sense really. Why would rebels do this? Reveal themselves when they were destined to die?

Was this all some larger plot?

Elise scowled to herself as they rode, fingers tight on her reigns.

 

[Vittorio]

"I will make haste then."

Vittorio uttered this to Yrael and took his leave far beyond the main group. The rumors about him were to serve them well, as he made his way easily through the trees and brush. Once out of sight, he whistled to a wolf that was wandering the woods. He knelt down and the creature let him pet his chin lightly. He pointed in the direction of Vel Senn and the wolf took flight. Heading there on ground while Vittorio ran through the treetops.

Eventually, the wolf led him directly to where they needed to be. The wolf was seen by the group but Vittorio was lucky to remain hidden. The wolf was told by these human hunters to back off. They wanted no creature near their home.

It was as the stories had said. A city, completely encased in rubble and charred to a pitch black. Now the entrance had guards yet again on what seemed like every corner imaginable. A caravan from what must have been a previous raid entered not long after Vittorio arrived. The driver was an orc.

An orc? What? He thought this an elvish conspiracy. Something was going on here that was not yet able to be determined. Out of the caravans wagons marched about ten human captives. All in chains and emaciated. Was there another base? What was this one's purpose? A lot posed questions in his head but he could not take this on alone. He waited for the signs his comrades had arrived.

 

[Yrael]

In contrast to some of his new companions, Yrael walked on foot. The soldiers did not have horses, and so he would have had to trot along at their pace anyhow. The setting sun had begun to glint off the armor of the amassed company.

He turned his head just enough to see Florinthe when she posed her question. It seemed odd to him. What to do? Follow the group, kill the insurgents in whatever way she saw fit. Images of her magic in the previous battle filled his head, and he considered what special role she may play.

"You are Florinthe," he said. It wasn't entirely clear whether the sentence was a question or a statement. He had heard of her, she was one of the more noticeable members of House Luana. While he was still wary of the games all houses played, Luana did not concern him so overtly as did Virak. "Tell me, how far can you throw those spears? We will likely face more archers, this time on high walls." If she could remove the threat from above quickly, it would make a tremendous difference to the rest of the battle.

The sky had turned crimson by the time they regrouped with Vittorio atop a low, wooded hill. It offered them a view of the city while giving them some reasonable cover from the elves' eagle-eyed lookouts.

"Vittorio, report," he said without greeting. He would want to know defense movements and probable points of entry, but Vittorio surely already knew this.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe drew her horse closer towards Yrael and slowed to a cantor alongside him. While she was familiar with the Dreadlord, in particular, his devastating magic, she had never personally mingled or associated with him. Aside from missions, it was rare to meet with a Dreadlord from another faction - even if they were allegedly on the same side. She paused for a second, her eyes wandering across the landscape watching carefully for any potential threats, whilst considering his statement.

"If I can see them, I can hit them. Depending on how much magic I wish to extend... I could probably level some fortifications too." She sighed, she didn't enjoy drafting high-powered javelins. She was only capable of a handful before her breathing would worsen and her magic reserves would run dry. Florinthe was aware though, that they were powerful. Not necessarily as thorough as Yrael's destructive capabilities, but she could certainly make easy work of a few walls and some defenders.

Her attention drifted back towards the scene immediately before her, and she kept her eyes on the curious figure of Vittorio. She could never really understand the motives or actions behind that individual, but she supposed he was harmless.

 

[Elise Virak]

Elise slid off her horse and wandered up to the Dreadlords on the crest of the hill, noting Vittorio standing there.

The boy had been sent out as a scout, and she was eager to hear his report.

From what she remembered of Vel Senn the place had not been entirely leveled. Though once a powerful fortress city, she suspected that most of the fortifications would not longer be intact. At least not in the same way they had once been.

Of course, that was all an assumption.

Curiously the Baroness did not say anything as she stepped in among the Dreadlords, instead keeping quiet and carefully listening.

Almost as though she were trying to learn.

 

[Vittorio]

"Orcs." Was the first thing he said. The filthy things. He detested the creatures. Things that conflicted with his view of the world. The only one that he cared about.

"There are entrances at each cardinal direction it seems. All guarded. Their numbers are a bit large, but nothing our group won't be able to handle. But, Orcs... There were Orcs running amuck with these elves. Oh, and they have prisoners. I couldn't tell you how many."

 

[Yrael]

This was concerning. There had been orcs in the village from before but Yrael had assumed they were either traveling mercenaries or contracted in for some extra muscle. But if they were here at the main base, if they were assisting more deeply... well it was odd. Yrael didn't like odd. Odd was hard to predict. Odd was adding variables that clouded his strategy.

"The city is half rubble," he began, "It will be difficult to navigate, and there will be many hiding places for the enemy." He pointed to Florinthe and Vittorio. "You, you, and I will go in first. We will take a small group of my soldiers. The main force will follow after. Florinthe, keep us safe from archers. Vittorio, aid the ground fighters. I will make us an entrance."

He turned next to Elise. "I cannot command you, but we should learn more of these orcs. If you can interrogate one of them as you did the elf before, it would be..." he trailed off, the words hanging sour in his mouth. "...appreciated."

As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, they would set out. They hadn't the supplies nor the forces to wait long. This would be by all accounts a fast and deadly strike.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe listened gravely as Vittorio spoke. Orcs were never pleasant. She'd been lucky enough to only have to deal with a handful during her career. Each one, however, seemed to have the unnatural ability to fight on long before they should have fallen. It was a particularly scary threat to a ranged fighter.

She nodded towards Yrael. "Perfect, projectiles are easy enough." She spoke confidently, and for once, felt it. Arrows, bolts, and whatever else required a minimal amount of magic. A small push here, a nudge there, and they changed trajectory drastically - or simply fell from the air. One of her first exercises, when she'd joined the academy, had been practising such feats on training arrows being fired upon her. It had led to many bruises, cuts and fractures, but now she could do it in her sleep.

A deep breath. She calmed her rising anxiety towards the orcs. From her quiver, she withdrew an incredibly unique-looking spear. It looked more like a guillotine blade - sharpened to a point at one end - and fastened hastily to a solid wooden haft. It was heavy, it was unorthodox, but she'd yet to meet something that it didn't simply cut in twain.

 

[Elise Virak]

"Barrin will return soon." Elise said with a small smile on her face.

There were few things in this world that she enjoyed more than watching a Dreadlord squirm. If she had wanted to she could have taken control of this entire thing, and everyone knew it. Doing so would have been foolish, but the thought still amused her.

Eventually, as the sun fell lower and lower the sound of a galloping horse began to ring out on the opposite crest of a hill.

Barrin appeared, riding as quickly as he could atop a great steed. There was a pack on his saddle, and he carried a sword in his off hand. Elise was the first to greet him, sharing a quick word before ushering one of her more trusted soldiers forward.

Within ten minutes the Baroness stood clad in armor, not one for show or meant for flash, but true to form plat-email created specifically for her.

Almost as if dawning the armor had been the signal, the sun began to set, and the attack could begin.

 

[Vittorio]

Vittorio simply nodded at Yrael's orders, and nodded to Florinthe as well. The plan was simple enough that anyone could follow it and he would. While he loved the Falwood he held no love in his heart for orcs. But perhaps he may get a worthy fight out of the mix.

He looked upon Florinthe's blade and let out a "Huh, pretty," in admiration to it. He should make his arm a guillotine one of these days.

Night fell, and the groups gathered. Elise had someone named Barin arrive, Vittorio unaware as to who that was. He just knew that this fight would be a brutal one, and any help was welcome. He was quite surprised at how nice looked in armor, and then quickly remembered how harshly her personality would ruin the thought. Vittorio let out an audible laugh at what others would see at nothing.

He followed close behind Yrael when they marched, wanting to be the first to get a piece of whatever was to come.

 

[Yrael]

The broken spires and crumbling walls were eerie in the waning twilight. Against the purple sky they were jagged silhouettes, appearing as great beasts as much as human-made structures. Here and there along the rim the metal blades and arrowheads of the guards glinted.

Luckily, due to the city's disrepair, nature had begun to encroach upon the city's walls. They were able to move unseen beneath the overgrowth until they were a mere fifty yards from gates. They would be completely exposed for this last stretch, however. Yrael did not worry for the dreadlords, but his men's lives would be in the hands of Florinthe as they crossed.

With a silent hand signal, Yrael lead them into the open. Almost immediately a brass horn sounded and calls in languages he did not understand began to bellow. As expected, the telltale sound of arrows rushing through the air soon followed.

He broke into a run. The less time they spent here the better. He saw a light on the wall, and a fireball was lobbed at the group. Yrael batted it aside as it fell and it exploded off course. He ran faster. When they were within 20 yard he threw out both hands and pushed hard, calling out from the exertion.

The sturdy iron gates bowed, slammed by a massive invisible hammer. He swung his arms again, now ten yards away, and the doors parted a few feet, metal screeching in protest. One more push, and they were blown off their hinges. The evidence of several crushed bodies was clear beneath them, but it was overshadowed by the throngs of orcish warriors that poured from the gates.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe breathed in deeply. Wind gathering around her palms and soon spreading out across her giant spear. Carefully, she raised the weapon above her head and begun to spin it aloft.

As the group passed through the final stretch, uncovered and vulnerable to arrows, Florinthe's weapon began to spin at an unprecedented speed. Tendrils of visible, condensed wind rose up from her rotating weapon and soon wound together. As the independent streams came together, a vortex of wind soon erupted from above her spiralling blade and almost immediately as the projectiles were fired, they were inhaled by this sudden miniaturised tornado above her head.

The tornado grew in strength, cultivated by Florinthe's magic, and controlled by the spinning motion of the blade above her. With each passing second, arrows that were fired at the group were sucked in and spat back out towards their recipient. Eventually, after realising the futility and seeing their comrades felled by their own attacks, the archers stopped.

Florinthe did not. She gave no quarter to the elves. In response to the sudden lull of attacks - and before the inevitable retreat - she cast off the tornado and grounded it onto the battlements. The defenders were sucked into the gale in turn as the wind skimmed the length of the wall. Screams were heard as the elves were ripped apart by a mixture of high-speed winds and debris from the battlements.

She exhaled, surveying the level of destruction, before pressing on with her peers.

 

[Elise Virak]

Elise did not understand why there were Orcs here, but in truth in the midst of battle it was difficult to bring herself to care.

Elves were disgusting, twisted facsimile of Humanity. Orcs? Orcs were abominations through and through. She did not understand why anyone could bare the sight of them, how they could be treated as even living beings. They were brutes, with barely an understanding of life itself.

The battle itself proved that to be true.

Three of them came for her, rushing through the throngs of soldiers and Dreadlords as they spotted Elise standing near the back. They charged forward, axes raised as bellowing cries of war.

Elise drew her sword, the blade long and thin.

Just as the orcs stepped into her she moved through them. With four quick flicks of her blade she sliced between the plates of their meager armor, cutting through arteries and stripping flesh from bone.

She wove between the three orcs, stepping out behind their corpses a scowl on her lips. Ahead she through the bunches of greenskins she could see some of the Elves, their faces half hidden by cowls.

 

[Vittorio]

There would be no pretty antics from Vittorio this day. No dance, no fancy displays. He did not care to show his prowess against unworthy foe. Instead it would just be a ring of of his skeletal blades against far too weak armor. Rending flesh with ease and leaving none in his wake standing.

However some would still be alive, if you could call it living.

The flash of blood and steel would continue uninterrupted. His comrades making short work of the others they encountered.

In the midst of his bloody brawl, Vittorio would catch a sizable rock to the back of the head. He always ensured his skull was hardened but the back was difficult to focus on with his hands and forehead already hardened, so this fucking hurt.

When Vittorio turned, he saw a very large orc. Likely not a behemoth, but one who had certainly put in his exercises, preparing another piece of debris to throw at Vittorio. This time the apprentice was able to dodge the object.

The orc revealed a great axe and locked his eyes on Vittorio's. The Dreadlord stared back through his deer mask with hatred in his eyes. They charged and the clang of their weapons meeting would shatter glass.

 

[Yrael]

The hoards came, and the Dreadlords did not disappoint. Florinthe's gales kept them safe from above, even dispatched of most of the archers, while Vittorio cut through combatants with ease. Had Yrael had the time to look back, he would have been impressed at the ease with which the baroness herself simply walked through foes.

The footsoldiers were not having quite as clean of a fight, but their superior training and gear proved sufficient, even if the losses were notable.

He did not have time to look back. With the battle coming towards them, he slowed his run to a walk. "Remember to keep at least one alive," he shouted, magnifying his voice so that the other could hear.

Yrael reached out a hand and lifted one of the heavy iron doors from afar. Crushed orcs and splintered bones were revealed beneath. Swung it wildly beyond the gates, moving it back and forth, spinning and slamming into the ground. By the time he dropped it, the iron had been almost entirely covered in blood. Hopefully the human captives had not been held just inside the gates.

Within a short time the battle seemed to quiet. Rather than continue to face them on the field the elves retreated to whatever structures remained intact.

He addressed his soldiers. "Secure all exits. Let none escape." He and the other dreadlords would proceed within the walls to dispose of the remaining forces, and hopefully discover their leaders.