Quest Invasion of Dhunbor

[Ta'Kar]

The goats barreled down the tunnel and straight toward the flank of the army but it wasn't so unprotected. As they charged forward, the ground rumbled once more but not from more orcs spilling from the tunnels, it was underneath them. Eventually cracks splintered the ground and a massive wyrm erupted from it, chunks of rock falling off of it as goats would fall into the hole or be pushed aside as its body absorbed most of the charge from the vanguard and straight into its body.

The creature swiped it's head, taking out a few of the riders before picking up one dwarf in its massive teeth and killing him with a sickening crunch of the armor. It let out a squeal afterward as it slithered back into the hole and the rumbling from before would be replaced by chitting and wild shouting. Orcs and goblins spilled out from the hole and directly into the goats and Thorvir Ironheart's force. The dwarves wouldn't be the only ones with mounts as well as goblins would be riding spiders and would crawl out from the hole as well. They weren't armored but they could swarm and five or even more on that would jump on a single dwarf and his mount before bringing it down.

A contingent of drow and orcs from the main army split off and slammed into the front of the goat vanguard and effectively surrounded them. Some of the orcs and goblins would be trampled as soon as they exited from the hole but that meant more bodies that would slow down the charge of the vanguard and bring them to a grinding halt.

The rest of the orcs that spilled out from the hole didn't fight the vanguard but instead turned and faced the 8000 dwarves and laid out a spear wall that acted as an obstacle for them to get through in order to relieve their vanguard. Each one let out screams as they fueled each other off of their screams of adrenaline and battle.

Ta'Kar was about to climb up the wall but that's when he heard the clash from behind them. He thought of continuing but if they gave up the flank then the battle was lost. The Drow turned and sprinted back, making his way across one of the goblin's bridges as he whistled at one of the nearby trolls. The creature turned to look at the drow but that's when it caught the massive dwarf army there. It let out a roar before lumbering its way over with its club at the ready.

 

[Nesipheia]

She supposed it was her time to attack now.

The Drow and the Naga, or what could be banded together, had formed a tentative treatise. Part of that treatise hung in the balance of Dhunbor; and standing at the front lines, in personal arraignment, was a proud, almost humanoid figure.

Nesipheia, unblinking, stared down at the carnage that unfolded before her. The battle of the bridge, the attempt to take the guarding towers. Beside and behind her gathered her people. Tails slithered against stone, the faintest hiss, like grains of rice tumbling down. Armor glinted, scales flexed and writhed beautifully with the figures.

She stared up at the object of their greatest destruction; the wall.

The wall that none could breach, it seemed.

"Shields up!" she barked, levering up her own. "Arrows nocked, spearmen at the ready. Magi, prepare for defense."

She could feel the venom welling in her fangs; a deep, primal need to bite, to squeeze, to see the life flow out of them like honey split fresh from the comb. The Outer Wall proved a difficult defense to defeat it; she had all the time in the world to tear it down.

The runes she had carved into her arms dripped, the abused scales protesting with welled blood. May your Gods meet mine, she thought with grim satisfaction, as she aimed her free hand up.

She could feel every stone, every tremor of rock within in. A secure, stable base, for which there was always a weak spot. The towers, as well. One, it seemed, was already with a hole in it... it was time to take down the other.

Dhunbor Tower is falling down.. falling down... falling down...

Her mouth opened, hyperextended into a serpent's hiss.

The Naga had arrived, thirsting for blood. All 7,000 strong to answer the call for their own share of this battle.

The weakness had been found. Lips pulled into an unnatural smile as her fingers flicked in a twisting motion. And for those nearest the wall, or atop it would feel a shuddering, a sheering rock from rock.

It had been a long time since her time in Maraan as a simple shopkeeper's daughter. So much had changed. She would see their enemies be torn asunder.

Suddenly, the Outer Wall collapsed, a giant hole booming inwardly for the city's full exposure. Ripe for the picking. From her distance, Nesi then began to focus on the other tower, feeling the stones beneath creak and groan in protest as the very earth beneath them began to buckle and shudder.

Soon, perhaps, it too would collapse. But this time... under its' own weight.

Ah, but the dwarves screaming was music to her ears. Half the Naga began to slither forward, intent to aid the ailing Drow flank, the other half remaining with Nesi to await orders, maintaining their defense.

She personally would seek out the Drow in charge of this assault. Her people's honor rested on this.

(Rolled a nat 20)

 

[Trovik Half-horn]

Trovik rushed forward, pursuing the retreating dwarves across the bridge cutting them down with little effort. as he approached the front gate capulet shot rained in on the gate destroying the entire right side of it while one lucky shot hit the gate itself splintering the wood and leaving the gate wide open. he smiled, what a fortuities event he thought to himself.

He roared before charging at the dwarven defenders that had formed up to defend the gateway, he barreled into them using his hulk mass to scattering their formation leaving them vulnerable to his long blade, by the time he was caked in there blood.

The way was now open to the palace, only dwarves stood in their way and he was the vanguard. though he would wait for the queen and her forces to catch up before he made his way there, no use doing all this good work not to show it off to his employer.

(rolled a 20) Vyx'aria

 

[Bronni Strakeln]

The second tower fell before his eyes and the Drow and their allies swarmed passed the outer walls and towards the last remaining gateway that protected the city of Dhunbor, his home. Anger and adrenaline fueled the stocky dwarf who had never felt such conviction before as he finally pulled the arrow from his left shoulder and drew the short sword from his belt. "Bah," he spat on the hot stone and started running an intercept course for the gateway.

His left arm still wasn't capable of holding a shield and thus the arrow-pierced shield was abandoned just as he had abandoned the lifeless body of the duergar child. The Drow would suffer for it, he promised himself, them and all their allies. The dwarven thief, for that was the crime for which he had been in that cell to begin with, spotted a Minotaur run through the last defenders of the gateway as if they weren't even there.

Although he couldn't stop that Minotaur from going through, Bronni still jumped on the bridge and shoved his shortsword straight through the gut of an advancing Drow. "You-" he barked, spitting saliva all over the dark elf before pushing the dying pansy aside, "-will not-" another charged, but despite his kill they didn't seem impressed by the blood-covered dwarf with his ragged tunic and gaunt face and the next Drow was surprised by his own blow being parried. Close enough now to look each other in the eyes, the madness in the dwarf's dark eyes was apparent and fear and regret washed over the Drow's face before Bronni pulled him closer and shoved his sword through his lungs. Removing his sword from the elf he hoped that the other dwarves, that he knew fought in front of this gateway still, would join his efforts.

Looking at roughly a dozen advancing Drow, including two reading arrows to shoot at him, Bronni sighed with a presumptive last word: "-pass."

(Dice Roll = 15)

 

[Rolegg Magmasworn]

Whatever this Drow-thing was, it incensed Rolegg greatly with his blithe demeanor and his stupid pointed ears. All it would take is a single blow from his axe and that smug, mocking aura would disappear in an instant. A cursory glance cast sidelong at the other Duergar in the tower with him, Derg Gherdro, was all he offered before advancing right as the dagyt stuck its blade inside the wooden mechanism beside him. A few steps forward, however, and that plump, roasted nook-slug he had finished eating decided that now was as good a time as any to make its grand entrance.

”Ah dornt feel sae hot,” he began, leaning forward with his axe as a prop, “Shooldnae hae eaten 'at-” One hiccup. Then another. As the dagyt leaped out from the and threw his exploding knife pouch, so too did the Duergar’s lunch enter the fray. Using the axe as a support, Rolegg belched - a wet, bubbly sound - and fixated his eyes on the pouch. Seconds seemed to slow to a crawl, and the only thing the massive dwarf could really do was stare in astonishment and horror as bile and food rocketed up and out of his mouth.

Rolegg’s eyes bulged, even from their deep-set position in his sockets, and he lurched forward, sending a stream of greenish-brown projectile vomit at the exploding pouch. Whatever fuse it might have had was short-lived as it was coated in the man’s regurgited meal, which included several solid pieces of the as-of-yet-undigested slug. After a moment of retching and heaving, Rolegg wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, giving his head an uncomfortable shake. He turned to look at Derg, jerking his thumb towards the disabled mechanism across the tower.

"Och, thes isnae guid mah mukker, nae guid at aw,” he mumbled as he lumbered towards one of the window slots. An arrow whizzed through it and nailed him in the shoulder pauldron once more. The shaft shattered and the head fractured, sending a few shards and splinters into his already-grimy beard. He remained still, taking this opportunity to survey the battlefield. It appeared a horde of greenskins and snake-people had joined the fray on the sieging army’s side. Were it not for the timely arrival of their surface kin, their chances of defending their great city would have been astronomically low. They were still low, but at least they had extra bodies for the fight.

He turned to Derg and mumbled something about ”Gittin’ doon ‘n’ whoopin’ some knife-eared ass,” before tramping down the stairs. Each thunderous footstep of the heavy, armored Duergar seemed to match the rhythm of the siege engines striking the wall and towers. He knew that if every able-bodied fighter didn’t get down to help hold the line, then their city was as good as dead.

And he’d be damned if he’d let these greenskin-loving, knife-eared, tree-hugging, rock-kissing pansies take the great city of Dhunbor. He charged out of the tower screaming, axe raised, and joined the fray where a newly-freed criminal was helping hold the line.

Bronni Strakeln Vyx'aria

Based on rolls of 4, 9, and 7 on a d20.
Degrees of success chart:
1-2: Critical failure! 1 being truly critical, 2 being a major failure.
3-6: Failure!
7-13: Barely a success, but take a negative in doing so.
15-18: Success!
19-20: Critical success! 20 being truly critical, 19 being a major success.

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria's bow continued its fell cuts through the ranks of the dwarves, and none had yet gotten close enough to test her real strength: her swords. She nocked a new arrow and sent it straight through the air, piercing into the throat of the dwarf that Flint Frostbeard was helping to his feet.

As her hand reached for another arrow, her mind registered that she was seeing a surface dwarf. Of course, there were more to come, and she didn't slow for more than a split second before sending another arrow flying through the air and straight toward Flint.

It seemed she had offered to become the first "weak little bones" that he could try to break, though he'd find that she was anything but fragile if he decided to do so.

 

[Xunari Auceus]

Based on a 17

Xunari loved it when a plan came together.

Her mages and her archers marched in lock-step, as though they were ready to walk into the bowels of hell itself and they marched swiftly... kind of like what she imagined people marching into hell would walk like actually. She didn't imagine they would stop to smell the sulfur and the shit and the blood after all - that would just be weird.

Like her thought patterns got sometimes when she used too much magic at once.

Mostly harmless but it did make her feel slightly light-headed. But, on the other hand, her archers and mages were exploding the dwarves left and right with barely a word. Xunari marched alongside them, activating one of the runes on her remaining arm and drawing upon her own strength.

Tendrils of magic rocketed out from her left arm to ensnare the commander of the dwarves at the tunnel. As the majority of the dwarves were either cut down or captured, she literally reeled the commander in and began to pin him to the ground with the same magic bindings.

"Runner to Vyx'aria - the tunnel is secure. We shall fortify our position here, repeal any counter-attacks but remain available should we be required."

As the runner left she began painting runes on the face of the restrained commander, humming as she did so.

"Do you want to know why I'm fingerpainting your face in the blood of a slave right now? It's because I'm going to key your life into the defensive runes... the more your allies attack... the more you will wither away..."

 

[Derg Gherdro]

Things happened quickly as Derg passed through the door. First he was joined by an absolute barrel of a dwarf, spiked and dirty armor covering his massive frame. Next there was a pale Drow who blathered as knives flew and mechanisms were sabotaged. Before Derg could begin to utter a spell that would cook the impudent elf alive however, Rolleg had thudded in front of Derg before spewing vomit all over the room. Derg was helpless to prevent the drow from jumping out the window.

"An' good riddance to ya!" He growled in a subdued tone as he surveyed the vomit covered room, broken machinery, and finally the fat Duergar. "Aye." He grunted in agreement as his own grim set eyes peered out another arrow slit to survey the battle making its way to the open gates. It didn't take long for him to spot the catapults aiming right at him in the distance.

"Time to get outta here." He grumbled and tromped down the stairs behind Rollegg, hurriedly making his way down to the raging battle below. Not a moment too soon as the tower exploded behind the pair as they charged from the tower and into the fray.

"ALDRZORD!" The spell rang from his lips as he waded to the front of the defensive line, the ruby on his gauntlet's forearm flaring as a shield that seemed to be made of pure fire materialized over it. Hopping in front of a woefully armored Bronni, Derg swung his shield, catching an arrow on it that burst into nothingness as it passed through the pure flames. The second arrow found its way through and snagged on his armor, its head managing to find some small bit of flesh before the Forgemaster quickly plucked it away.

 

[Vyx'aria]

Vyx’aria felt the heat of magma nearby, sweat lining her body as she was in the thick of combat. She desperately wanted to toss her helmet off, but she knew it left her vulnerable. The pain from the hit to her solar plexus still throbbed, and she was bleeding from her shoulder. However, she wouldn’t quit anytime soon - not when they had reinforcements coming.

The sight of the Naga army and the reinforcements led by Ta’Kar brought a cruel grin to her lips.

Vyx yanked her bloody blade out from the belly of a dwarf and spun to find the dagyt Salazar Abydros landing before her. The sign of the broken lever brought a rare, truly genuine smile to her face.

“Excellent work,” She said as she twirled the blade in her hand. This was followed by a massive boom as the outer wall began to collapse. The Minotaur also forced through the dwarven defense line and cleared a path.

“CHARGE!” Vyx shouted at the top of her lungs, raising her blade and dashing forth. They had a path across the bridge and she whirled her blade from side to side to knock her enemies into the lava on either side.

The legions of drow followed behind her as the other armies held back the duergar allies. Vyx jumped over dead drow and dwarves alike, determined in her rush. She slammed into enemies with her pauldron and danced out of the way of swinging axes and maces.

“GIVE NO QUARTER! SHOW NO MERCY! CUT THEM DOWN UNTIL THEY LISTEN!” Her voice bellowed as she summoned her rage and hate into each swing of her emril blade. The Duergar were stubborn and they chose this. They chose this over words. They would suffer her wrath and would know their place soon enough.

---

The Duergar king gritted his teeth as the outer wall collapsed. He turned to his guard and nodded. They didn’t need words as they charged forth past the palace halls and gates. These were the elites of the king, and each one was worth several Duergar.

As soon as they came closer to the Minotaur, one of them slammed his mace down into the ground. This caused a tremendous shockwave to pulse out towards the Minotaur with enough force to send him flying back several feet and outside the wall.

At the same time, another Elite raised his hands as the ground began to tremble. The debris from the collapsed wall flew and hurled towards Zahel Bashere, Trovik, Vyx’aria, Nesipheia’s forces and anyone else trying to approach on the bridge. Debris crushed a huge number of the drow forces almost immediately and threatened to block the path.

---

The mage collapsed and died a horrific death from the Nameless One’s attacks. As a result, the spirit had a clearer path across the bridge, but also thousands of surface dwarves in the way. Thovir’s forces were rushing in and threatening to overwhelm the drow forces.

---

Xunari’s efforts allowed her and her forces to shove through the tunnel and open up behind the outer wall. This put her in quite the advantageous position as the bulk of the drow forces were still struggling to get inside. She would be inside the city where civilians were evacuating and running in various directions.

To her left was Trovik and the last defenses before the push into the palace courtyard where the king and his Elites were. This also meant that Xunari would be facing against the Elites, but no one knew she and her forces had flanked them yet.

The Nameless One Zahel Bashere Xunari Auceus Trovik Half-horn Salazar Abydros Nesipheia Ta'Kar

 

[Bronni Strakeln]

He believed his fate was sealed. Bronni Strakeln the thief would die on that bridge trying to prevent the Drow from taking his beloved city. At least, that was before two of his fellow Duergar joined him in front of the gates. One charged into the fray with a battle-axed raised and another summoned a shield of fire that protected Bronni from the arrows that would have killed him. They weren't the only ones either; Duergar that had been knocked aside by the Minotaur in its charge slowly got up, at least those that hadn't been killed, and motivated by their fellows still resisting they joined the line.

Now numbering fourteen on that bridge, Bronni felt like his fate might still smile on him yet and allow him to repay the Drow in kind for the death of the child. Unfortunately, there was still a host of enemies, thousands of them, charging their line of roughly over a dozen and while the shield of fire soaked up arrows it didn't protect against all of them and one dwarf caught an arrow to the side of his neck and tumbled off the bridge into the hot lava.

Then came the first wave. Shielded by his fellows, Bronni was free to stab and swing and killed himself another Drow before yet another dwarf was knocked off the bridge by a mighty blow from an orc. AN ORC!?

Barely able to reach, Bronni nicked the orc's knee with his sword while another dwarf slammed the much larger creature with his spiked shield. The orc wailed for a moment as it dropped through his nicked knee only to watch a short sword pierce his throat and turn his wail into a death rattle. One orc down, but another three dwarves were crushed by the aggressors before the first wave finally subsided.

"Fall back! Fall back to the gate!" Bronni shouted and turned his head. At the gate he saw the King's personal guard approach and join the fray, killing dozens upon first contact, and he knew their line of eight would be safer with them among their ranks.

(Dice Roll = 9)

Derg Gherdro Rolegg Magmasworn

 

[Thovir Ironheart]

(OOC: Dice Roll= 5 massive casualties to the War Goats)

The War Goats were penetrating through the sea Dark Elves pushing out of their way as the Elves fell into the lava. As Thovir smashed a young looking Elven soldier with his warhammer he grimaced a bit watching the Elves tumble into the flaming sea screaming as the intense heat seared their skin before they hit the lava. A terrible way to die but with the Drow killing innocent Dwarven men, women and children they were the lucky ones to die compared to what Thovir would do their leader if the Gods blessed him enough to get close.

It was difficult for the Dark Elves to mobilize due to them being set up on the bridge, it was large enough to fit some thousand or two of those prancing pricks but it was also narrow enough for them not to counter a barreling unit of Goats running through them at astonishing speed. Of course that also meant Thovir's precious Giant Boar: Bessie. The Dwarf continued to laugh hysterically swinging his Warhammer like a fly swatter smashing any Elves' faces, legs. groin or arms. Embolden by the blood that stained his armor and face, they were making progress to the city.

"We're doing well, brothers and sisters!" Ironheart shouted through the chaos smashing another head of an Elf who tried to attack him. "Our path to victory is clear! Death to these ploughing Elves!"

They were halfway to the gates until Thovir felt the floor rumbling pulling his reigns, he ordered Bessie to halt much to her annoyance. "Stop the charge!" Thovir held his fist up high seeing the Elves retreat. The War Goats formed around him as the ground shook even more violently.

"Earthquake!" One of the riders shouted trying to control his Goat who looked like he wanted to retreat. "No," Thovir whispered hearing the familiar growls getting closer. "WRYM!"

A giant Wrym came out from the ground inflicting major casualties to the Calvary. Thovir was knocked off Bessie and landed hard on to the ground his silverite helm rolling off the bridge. He was all too familar with these Wryms. They just as large as Purple Worms who crawls through the mountains of Elbion. Some of them could even breathe fire unlike their larger cousins. Thovir spent a considerable amount of his life leading the Leshon Khuzi to fight against the Wryms who were crawling toward Kal Palthras and to this day, Thovir had nightmares of them.

Goblins came out riding Spiders as they picked apart the riders who were caught in the Wrym's ground attack. Bessie managed to recover and used her large snout to push Thovir's face. The Dwarf groaned as he saw a horde of Spider riders crawling to his broken Vanguard as well as an assortment of Dark Elves and Orcs forming a spearwall along with a Troll. "Looks like the Elves have a bit of brains after all!" Thovir struggled to climb on Bessie while grabbing his Warhammer. "Pull back!"

Thovir took what was left of the War Goats and fell back as the Goblins whooping and hollering gave chase to the scattered Calvary. They can outpace the Wrym and Goblins weren't known for their overwhelming. "Let's lead these boulder brained freaks into our army!" He shouted at remaining stragglers as he saw the Dwarven foot soldiers already forming a wall.

"Aarak!"

The infantry split while Thovir and the War Goats retreated to the back and immediately formed a shield wall. The Spider Riders instantly shattered against the long spears of the Dwarven line while the second row threw short spears inflicting many casualties and continuing the assault. "That's right!" Thovir shouted with glee. "Show these bastards how to fight!"

Ironheart attempted to look for more routes to flank around while the first wave was busy holding off the Spider Riders. They also had a Wyrm and Troll to take care as well, "too many foes....." Ironheart muttered. "Aye it's an even fight then." before turning to his lieutant.

"Send in the War Goat reserve!" he said. "We gotta make another pass and to take care of that sodding Wrym!"

He had just the equipment to deal with a creature like that.

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

After firing off her shot, Zathria began to give orders to one of her officers without turning her attention away from the fight lest she was ttacked again.

She could see that the wall had been brought down and the army of the dark elves had been added to by the Naga and orcs. It was turning into quite the spectacular battle.

Bring the rest of the equipment up. Keep it away from the flanks where the enemy forces can hit it, she said. The last thing she wanted was the remainder of their catapults to be caught out.

Use the ballistae to shatter any newly formed battle lines, she said, and the captain hurried off to see that the orders were completed. In many ways, the ballistae were more terrifying to infantry than a catapult. The one armed slingers were useful for hurling rocks at walls and towers, but hitting someone on the ground? Much more difficult. Or perhaps she should say that it was simply easier to dodge a heavily arcing projectile. The ballistae, on the other hand, certainly couldn't be aimed to hit a single person, but fired into a formation? Oh, they did very well at that.

They fired in a very slight arc arc, not hitting the front line of dwarven defenders just inside the shattered gates - for the risk to the Drow soldiers wasn't acceptable - but landing safely into whatever ranks might have been forming to fill the gaps behind those brave defenders that had taken up positions to block the advance of Trovik Half-horn.

Many of the massive arrows landed in the ground harmlessly, skidding and clanging against the stone in a frightening shower of sparks, but those that struck true pierced easily through a half dozen armored soldiers, giving no heed to shield or armor.

The catapults were slower moving, however. Their advance to firing range on the inner gate was bogged down by the bodies that had accumulated from archery fire. Even in their wake, the catapults left the bodies of drained slaves who had been powering the lighting runes of the mages. Still, the advance was moving forward steadily if not quickly.

D=11

 

[Nesipheia]

She hissed in rage as the dwarves attempted retaliation by flinging rocks back into the attacking flank; some of her brothers and sisters were smashed in the assault. "Magi, shields," she barked out, raising her own to deflect the rocks and stones flung back, the number few in the face of grievous assault.

So they wanted to play bloody to the new kids, hmm?

She could play dirty if she had to. Ugh, but why were they so stubborn? It wasn't like all of them would have died if they laid down their arms, but no, some had to be hammer-happy.

The runes on her arm glowed, twisted unnaturally. She had changed, something within those very blood-ties she surrendered whispered of a new magic. More primal.

She could feel it, deep in her bones. Beneath the thin crust of Dhunbor sat the churning lake of magma, rising to the surface. A proverbial unlimited source of fuel, but it was more than that. The primal force of rock, melted, untapped and unrestrained in its' heat.

An answer to the Elite who dared to attack her people and their allies.

She could see it all from her vantage point, now unfolded before them with the hole in the outer wall. The bridge, the tunnels.

So many lakes and pools to draw from... which would make the ideal choice?

The one closest to the inner wall, of course.

"Get back!" She shouted to the Drow that were closest to the Elite guard, and the King himself, her voice booming through the battle lines. "Magi, prepare assault!" She barked out crisply. "Aim for the castle keep, volley aim. Fire!"

Like something within the deep, they came. Molten rock rose from beneath, assaulting the inner wall where the Elite and their king stood behind, and even over the wall itself. Satisfied with that attack, she turned her attention to those aiding the flank.

"Left guard, spearhead the bridge!" she hissed, lifting her shield. "Magi! Continue the assault. Until Dhunbor falls!" she cheered, and the left flank began to peel ahead, keen to aid their comrades. It was a small number, but until the tides would turn against them, there was no need to rush ahead.

She was biding her time, but seeing those lava strikes against the inner wall and to the castle keep brought a bitter smile to her face. A counterstrike was bound to happen, but no matter what she was here by oath. And a Naga's word was her promise.

Rolled a 19.

 

[Trovik Half-horn]

Trovik turned to face the clattering noise of plate armour, only see the elite bodyguard of their king, he smiled, finally a true challenge he thought as he prepared to face them, he began to charge them like the last group of defenders but before he could, a dwarf smashed his mace into the ground and the next thing flying backwards to outside the gatehouse.

Trovik blinked a few times, trying to figure out what happened but that was interrupted by the searing in his ribs the caught up to his mind, it seemed he had broken a few ribs on his landing. "God damn magic" he groaned under his breath, it was an only plausible solution as to how he was in this position. magic is a cowards weapon only used by those who didn't have themselves to fight or conquer. He was angry but in no shape to fight, he slowly picked himself up from ground clutching his ribs.

For now, he was out of the fight unless he got some healing.

(rolled a 2)

 

[Xunari Auceus]

Her forces were through and they were flanking - they had the drop of their enemy but barely a dozen dwarves had fallen due to being caught unawares before a new breed of dwarves rocked up. These ones were much more effective than their brethren and were holding off her forces by themselves.

They weren't immortal, she found as she was able to cut one deeply with a compressed spike of earth, but they were tough.

She dodged out of the way of an axe swing and grimaced as the dwarf pushed forward to knock her off balance. Staggering slightly, she hissed as the dwarf swung his axe with a sense of finality. She twisted as the blade swung...

And they were both surprised.

Her because the blade cut her shallowly along her right ribs and him because he had expected more - because it was only now that he realized that she didn't actually have a right arm.

Yay for arm loss!

Rolled a 6

 

[Flint Frostbeard]

Flint roared.

He was not angry. This was something deeper. Darker. This was rage.

No sooner had the duergar clasped his hand than he was felled by a devilish elven arrow. Frostbeard tore his battleaxe from its stone cradle with one impossibly strong flex of an arm. As fortune would have it this vile intrusion on what was at heart a dwarven affair redirected Dhunbor's divided fury and not a soul moved to block his way when the Belgrath warrior charged for the bridge and the nearest elf to slay.

The drow were prepared for the duergar's martial discipline. They were prepared for artisan siege machines and canny defense mechanisms. But a surface dwarf driven into proper battle frenzy was something entirely unexpected even to veteran soldiers. Such endless rage was a primal force which required true passion...a passion their dour cousins often seemed to lack.

Heedless of catapult impacts rending stone around him, Flint took an arrow just inside his left pauldron but hardly seemed to flinch. He slammed into the drow lines with no regard for the piercing jabs of their ebon steel. There was no art to his butchery. It was an affront to cultured senses. Instead of turning blades aside he simply hammered against them with powerful blows until his axe tore flesh.

"Witch!" he bellowed, singling out Zathria At'Arel not by sight but by certainty that such an army would have at least one proud commander, "Come and face me!"

Frostbeard was by now lost in the sea of a slow dark elf advance towards the duergar king's palace. He was fathoms ahead of his Belgrath kinfolk, and neither fallen ram nor the pass of wyrmfire penetrated his bloodlust. All he could see was the next elf he meant to kill.

D=17 (sorry for the long delay, bad week)

 

[Zahel Bashere]

Zahel was still moving clumsily, his torso felt still, numb, and still burned with pain. But he was holding on, with each passing second it was becoming easier to move. But with the outer wall falling and reinforcements arriving he hoped that he might have the opportunity to find some healing. But that was when the Duergar unleashed their elite.

Be it instinct, or just blind luck, Zahel got the feeling that the moment had arrived to make another draw. If Fortune did not favor him in this moment then he might well be a goner. Run of the mill duergar were another matter, these seemed like a whole other beast. The deck appeared before his free hand even as he ran, and vanished almost immediately as he pulled forth a card. Not even looking to see what the card was, he consumed its magic, and felt strength return to him even as he saw the Minotaur got flying past.

But there wasn't any time to think about him, he had himself to worry about. With the magic of the deck flowing through him, he danced through the debris coming his way, the hits he took bouncing off with little impact against the temporarily enhanced fortitude of his body.

Dancing and slashing his way through the fray, he charged into the courtyard, where the king and his elites waited. "Come!" He shouted, challenging them. "Is that all you have?" Only then did he realize that he was quite outnumbered. A small company of Drow had made it in with him, slipping in in the wake of the path he had cut through, but unaware of the flanking maneuver that the Queen was taking Zahel had to assume he had led them into one seriously uphill fight.

A grin appeared on his face at the thought, a worthy challenge.

Rolls: d20 = 14 moderate success
Card draw:
d4 = 2 (defense)
d100 = 65 (Success. Everything goes as planned)
​

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria saw that of the two men she had fired arrows at, only one had been felled. The other seemed to have flown into a rage. She had heard the stories about dwarven battle rage, and now she was eager and curious to see if it lived up to its reputation.

He charged forward and she saw him cutting down soldiers and slaves from the drow forces. Ah, one of their champions? she thought to herself. Every major battle of note that she had ever partaken in had those few individuals who seemed to rise above the masses and distinguish themselves in combat. They were the champions of their people, and could fell a dozen of her soldiers if not dealt with properly.

It seemed this champion had noted her attack and heaved through the war lines to challenge her. She accepted.

Her bow fell once more to the ground and both of her swords came free from their sheathes. Their long, jet black emril blades reflected no light from the lava or the burning of the cities and towers. She stood for a moment, taking a deep breath before lunging forward.

She knew how to fight dwarves. They had strength, but she had speed. They were stout, but she was agile. Her left sword slashed downward at his head, but before connecting, her arm pulled back in. The feint was designed to force him to block the strike for fear of a blade piercing the crown of his head, but the blade actually would never connect. Instead, the arm stretched out once again, turning into a thrust designed to maximize the distance between the pair of combatants while also looking to score a hit at the waist where armor was less likely to be in order to allow movement.

A witch? Then perhaps you should be more cautious. Witches are dangerous, she said. And it was true. While she wasn't a dedicated mage, she knew enough magic to cause some genuine issues for anyone she might face in combat.

Even as she spoke, she was already moving back, anticipating a counter strike from her opponent and not wanting to be in range when it struck. So the dance began, and the two champions would fall into step with one another until one of them fell or the battle forced them to separate.

Flint Frostbeard

 

[Ta'Kar]

The Wyrm had broken through the rock and thrust the goat vanguard into chaos as well as everyone around the entry point. Ta'Kar had to remain on the flank as it was too important and almost in full chaos for him to pull back and into the courtyard. The drow simply leaped over a goblin and into the fray, his swords lashing out in blurs of steel and blood as goats and riders would fall from his weapons. But as the ground shifted and rocked, he managed to see a dwarf who appeared to be the one shouting out orders, Thovir Ironheart, and the drow rushed toward him, swords aimed and at the ready as he closed the distance.

When he reached the dwarf however and was about to plunge his blade home, that's when one of the goats simply rammed right into Ta'Kar's side and had him rolling along in the dirt. After roughly tumbling, he sank his sword into the ground to stop himself and to collect his breath. The wind had been knocked out of him and almost felt like a rib had been broken but he pressed against the area and didn't feel any broken bones.

When he looked up, he saw that the vanguard retreated with goblin riders chasing them while still in a frenzy. The drow, orcs and naga that had formed their own spear line were about to charge in with the goblin riders but Ta'Kar had gotten up in enough time to make it to the front and hold his weapon up to stop them from going in.

The goblin riders continued to crash into their lines, some of the riders just simple jumping off their mounts and into the middle of the dwarven lines in order to stab into their thighs or arms. Most of the spiders had been caught on the spears and formed a wall of arachnids while the others climbed over and themselves into the dwarfs with no regard for themselves. Ta'Kar watched it unfold and flicked his weapon again.

The dark elves were masters of the dark and they would that to their advantage. In the shadows throughout the entire tunnel, a sharp whistling sound could be heard and arrows from the dark would suddenly start thudding into armor and the flesh of the dwarves. They came from every direction and while most would either deflect or sink into the metal armor, the dwarves that dealt with the spiders and goblins would eventually leave holes for the arrows to find their mark and gaps in the line.

After a few seconds, Ta'Kar pointed his sword forward and the whole mass of drow, orcs, and naga descended towards the dwarves with one unifying scream. The troll was in the front and the drow hopped on his back and held onto the armor and used the creature as cover. When the lines clashed with a sickening crunch of metal and flesh, Ta'Kar hopped off the troll and behind the shield wall, his blades once more lashing out like vipers. The troll swung its massive club, flinging dwarves and anything else into the air that stood in its way.

 

[Bronni Strakeln]

Slowly walking backwards in formation, the eight dwarves got closer and close to the gate where the King's personal guard had just... "Watch out!!" Bronni shouted and pulled a fellow of his dwarves away from the middles, but for another it was too late as the minotaur, flying backwards, bounced a dwarf straight off the bridge.

Quickening their backwards pace, the dwarves soon reached the gate and were immediately supported by reinforcements who strengthened their shield wall. Bronni, who for once didn't notice how tired he was, did his best to catch the attention of Derg Gherdro and Rolegg Magmasworn, "Oi!-" something caught his attention on the other side of the gate, a Tiefling to be precise, "-support the King's guard!"

Zahel Bashere was probably too preoccupied by the fact that the most powerful Duergar warriors, the King's personal guard, were aiming to separate his head from its shoulders to realize the danger posed by a thief sneaking up on him to shove a shortsword in the Tiefling's lower back. Luckily for him, Bronni was slow and only had the one functioning arm.


(Dice Roll = 8)

 

[Salazar Abydros]

Having completed his mission of sabotaging the tower, Salazar felt confident that he could sit back and observe the further engagement as the observer he always intended to be. The battle was proving to be exciting, and he had never seen something anywhere like this in his home village. Climbing a distant rock for a better view, he watched on as reinforcements of various races arrived, and the war was in full swing. He wished for a salty snack to enjoy while he watched the show.

 

[Xunari Auceus]

Rolled 18/20

The elite of the Dwarves were facing her soldiers and mages in combat but the rest of the dwarven forces were taking for granted that they would be able to hold them. That their thin line of elites would be enough to protect them from the enemy that had flanked them and broken into their sanctum.

It would be their undoing and she would be glad of it. Reaching out with her left hand, she frantically activated one of the runic arrays that had been tattoo'd into her flesh. Slapping the chest of the dwarf that had sought to cut her in two, she grinned as he laughed and tried to take a step closer.

His leg snapped under the sudden difference in weight he was experiencing as gravity was amplified upon him. She could have let him die from the increased gravity collapsing his lungs but why would she waste good resources?

Slitting his throat with her dagger, she let the blood pool in her hand before beginning to draw more runic arrays. There were rows of dwarven warriors manning the walls and she was behind them... drawing upon the blood of the slain dwarf, she activated an array she had been eager to do for some time.

The fire that launched from her hand, splashing through the ranks of dwarves from behind, was similar to the dragon fire she had experienced before. It wasn't the exact same since her research was still incomplete but it was fire that burned hotter than almost all others, blue flames that caused dozens of dwarves to catch alight like candles and dozens more to either flee from their defensive positions or surrender.

"Fetch me the horn."

Taking the horn from the Drow that had carried it into battle, she blew into it. Deep, loud, clear notes blew across the battlefield. It was a rallying call, a call that signified that the enemy was breaking.

To push the advantage.

 

[Derg Gherdro]

Derg didn't have the time nor patience to contemplate the pain of his shallow wound. Grinning wickedly at the Drow that charged straight at the duergar Forgemaster, Derg checked the foolish elf's charge with his shield. A high pitched scream and the smell of charred flesh were the last contribution that drow would make to the batttle. Letting the ruined body fall to the side, Derg held the line with his breathren, ducking blows and sneaking a few of his own in.

The small group could only hold for so long though, and as they fell the call to fall back came from somewhere within the din of battle. Derg's heavy boots carried him to the safety of the group, his falchion biting flesh, flaming shield casting aside battered and warped blades. No drow nor orc or other foul creature was safe from the grumpy Forgemaster's blade, his resentment at their interruption of his day a powerful motivator on the field of battle.

Falling back away from the immediate press of combat, Derg turned back to the charging invaders. Dismissing the fire shield on his arm, he once more raised his gauntlet, squinting his eye as he aimed down his arm.

"ALDREALU!" The command echoed from his lips once more. His aim true, the tiny sunflare of light shot out from the prominent ruby on his fist. Speeding over the frontline drow and orcs that were hot on the retreating dwarves heels, it would fly several ranks back to catch a particularly tall and ugly looking orc right in the face. From that point exploded a raging firestorm, Zharr's wrath burning its way outwards through the drow and orcs as fire consumed the bridge. The inferno would leave a field of withered and blackened corpses as its flames dissipated.

The action would only buy them time however, and there were already enemies within the gate to contend with that would soon be joined by others, once their fear of the bridge was overcame. Charging at the flank of the group of invaders engaged with the King's Guard, Derg's falchion bit into the back of an orc before it could land a killing blow on one of the elite duergar soldiers.

 

[Vyx'aria]

The bridge was a complete mess, and suddenly there was a spiral of flames slowly expanding on it. Vyx wasn’t going to be deterred by it, silently commanding one of her drow mages. The mage rapidly sent forth a wave of icy frost to cool the inferno, but not before it managed to blaze through swaths of drow.

Vyx grimaced at the drow mage’s incompetence. She didn’t hesitate to whirl around and jam a dagger into the woman’s throat, yanking it out before taking the magical ruby she used to temper her powers. Vyx shoved the item into another mage’s hand, “Do not force me to have you share her fate,” She said menacingly.

The drow queen continued to advance on the bridge, taking heavy casualties. The Naga were doing a spectacular job of punching through, and Xunari’s horn was the rallying cry she was looking for. It meant that the drow were inside the city and the heaviest lift was hopefully done.

Vyx’s helmet had been knocked off during all the fighting, silver strands of hair in the open as she slashed, spun and stabbed her way through the bridge. She didn’t engage one of the elites, instead jumping up on a nearby cart. She relied on Lythrani’s illusionary magic to enhance her voice.

“Duergar king!” She bellowed, “No more blood needs to be spilled! I would have words with you, should you permit it!” Vyx was on the defense in case any duergar attacked her abruptly.

Bronni Strakeln

 

[Bronni Strakeln]

(Dice Roll 7 beats Dice Roll 3)

As fighting around the gate further intensified, the Duergar thief snuck up on Zahel Bashere and with the Tiefling unawares he swung his shortsword diagonally across the larger man's lower back. Bloodlust almost took hold of him as he readied his sword for the killing blow, but then suddenly a sharp voice bellowed over the battle and he turned his head towards it. He wasn't alone either, for warriors from both sides stopped fighting and turned the hear what she had to say. Everyone, sure, but the King's personal guard made sure they killed the nearest elf before they 'processed what was going on'.

There on a cart not twenty feet away from Bronni stood a beautiful -for an elf!- Drow woman and she looked straight at the King, "No more blood needs to be spilled! I would have words with you, should you permit it!"

Now most turned their heads away from her, searching for the King to make sure they heard his reply..

Hulgor Bonebuster, King of Dhunbor and executor of the Royal Book of Grudges, emerged from the protection of his kinsmen. His armor was black plate and the only thing glittering about it was the still wet elven blood that covered it and even parts of his white beard. His left hand held a battle-axe casually to his side as he stepped forward and nodded to one of his own mages.

"Who are you?" he asked and it was clear in his amplified voice that there was some semblance of respect hiding behind this question. "Who are you to attack my home?"

The Duergar used this moment to reposition themselves to protect their King, giving up a good forty feet to form a shieldwall with the conscripts like Bronni behind it. Much like the Drow and in fact most of the people that made the underrealm their home, the Duergar weren't known for being honorable and true to their word. Perhaps that was a lesson that the surface dwellers in Vyx'aria's army might learn today. Bronni, for his part, his attentions were drawn to the ring the King wore on his right hand. It was red and emitted a fiery glow, standing in stark contrast to its surroundings.