Open Chronicles The Dead March

[Gerra]

Gerra took the blow on his shield and felt the reverberation up through his forearm. Glancing to the side for but a heartbeat, he saw the ruin that had become of his warband. Only a handful remained amidst the carnage.

Enough waste.

Shield held before him to ward off the towering knight's blows, Gerra called out in a voice like thunder.

"To me. Orcs of the Blight. Rally to me."

One by one, the remainder of his force fell in beside him. Too few to make a reckoning with these Templars, not with the village teeming with ghouls. Even should he find the Necromancer now, his forces would be too few to bring him to the bargaining table.

No, against this magic he needed mages of his own.

Sparhawk, I've need of you now.

Last he'd heard the sorcerer was out chasing horses.

A frustrated rumbling sounded in the half-blood's throat. They would regroup. Later, they would regroup.

He pointed his hammer at the giantess, once again.

"Come with us now and let us reason together," he shouted.

Or there will be an accounting.

And with that, the paltry few of the former forty retreated from the village, shields locked, back the way they'd come.

 

[Arkarnianna]

Arkarnianna was not going to let the fire giant leave, at least not without her. With that last thought though the fire within her was burned up. She was cold as ice once more, she was just done, done trying, done expecting, she was just so tired of getting her hopes up and being disappointed. Her face was emotionless again, no sign of how she felt because it was obvious that no one cared anyway. There she had been trying her best to save everyone, giving it all she had and now realizing that it wasn't good enough, that she wasn't good enough.

"I tell myself that I don't need anybody else, but maybe the truth is just that they don't need me? Why do I try? I... I feel like I'm just unwanted and annoying, and now I'm afraid that that's all I'll ever be. It all just sucks because I tried, I really did, I tried so f*cking hard, and nothing I did seemed to be enough for anyone, no one even listened to me, not for a second, I was just a lost girl who needed to be protected."

When this necromancer was taken care of she would rush back to Elbion so she could be remade, cause at least then this tool, apparently not even good enough for anyone here, could become closer to something useful, maybe even be wanted.

Either way she could no longer stay with the templars after all that they had done, so she followed after the blight orcs as they retreated.

 

[Magnan Smithson]

Magnan watched as his opponent retreated, form slightly crouched as he held still. This was it. This was his chance. He could charge forward and bowl through that formation like it was nothing. The

Spoiler

weaker

orcs to the side couldn't hope to stop him, and with the chaos he would be able to strike the half blood down then and there. But... he was well aware of his impromptu charge, muttering to himself behind her, and he found himself hesitating. If he started the battle again, there was a chance more lives could be lost. That wasn't his job. He didn't start battles and waste lives, he finished them. So with that in mind he simply stood there, watching as the orcs retreated, and also watching as the blue haired woman he had put himself in charge of protecting tried to follow them.

He wasn't sure if it was battle nerves, some form of bloodlust or just a suicidal idea spawned from a demented mind, but he saw the look on her face as she walked past him and he knew she wasn't in a right state of mind. A dinner plate sized hand reached forward, wrapping around her shoulder and easily overpowering the slight woman, locking her in place. He had expect her to calm down, maybe turn and ask him what he was doing in annoyance. What he didn't expect was for her to suddenly begin to scream at the top of her lungs, body shaking as she did her best to wrench out of his hand and towards the orcs, eyes manic and wild. Panic flooded through Magnan at this new circumstance, and the ancient knight found himself rather incredibly unqualified for dealing with screaming and struggling, suicidal females. So he relied on what he did know, and had his other hand put away his sword and then join its brother in holding her, hefting the blue haired lady into the air as she struggled and doing his best to try and keep her still, tucking her under an arm. "Calm down, i'm not going to hurt you." His deathrattle voice rasps quietly. Perhaps it'll be better when the orcs leave sight?

Spoiler

To be clear here, i have permission from Arkarnianna to write this part, and am not godmodding

 

[Ragna]

Ragna did not halt their retreat. She even left two orcs flee by her, resisting the urge to crush their bones. She showed a gesture of peace to the fire giant. She would hear his words but she would show sincerity by giving him time to withdraw a safe distance before the vengeful smallfolk came forward. She let her shoulders sag, the battle madness leaving her. Wary now with so many smallfolk there, she moved so her back was to a building.

She kept her maul within arm's reach and gingerly probed at her wounds. Mostly cuts to her legs, it had been nothing serious when hacking through thick furs, not even breaking the skin in some cases. They'd drawn plenty of blood but it felt just like a scratch. It was easy to pick out those she'd slain from the others. The mortals tended to have killed them with magic or bladed weapons. Her kills were pulped, broken corpses.

 

[Saul Talith]

Saul, by now, had very little idea of what was actually going on anymore.

It seemed that the remaining blight Orcs were pulling away from the fight, and what remained of their enemy was simply a few of the Ghouls. The Mage was behind him, either protecting his back or getting ready to pull him down and kill an ancient enemy, but Saul didn't focus on him.

"Cut the last of them down!" Saul barked loudly to the other Templar.

They needed to finish this.

The Blight Orcs had been a distraction, something that he could not allow to run loose in the Reach. Their goal was still the necromancer, and these beasts were his doing. Saul was confident of that.

His gaze drifted towards the Giantess who was just standing there, his head shaking slightly with confusion.

What the fuck had happened to today?

 

[Faurosk]

Faurosk spoke an incantation in low tones, tucking around to Saul's flank. He didn't realize that this might startle his heavily armed protector, instead focusing his attention entirely on what few Ghouls remained. Immediately, another ribbon of light spiralled out from the robes around his bicep, wrapping loosely around his forearm. The mage then threw his hand forward, shooting forth another bolt of radiant, arcane energy.

The manabolt pinned one of the furthest Ghouls in the shoulder, sending it into a back spin as the very energies that bound it together were pried away. The shambling corpse then fell to the ground- smoldering just faintly -and it didn't get back up.

 

[Albedo]

More ghouls skittered by them, roughly ten of them, making their way to the village behind them as Albedo watched them for a moment. The small frown visible as she shook her head. She returned them to walking at a hurried pace towards their goal.

"Let's get going, don't want company to follow us." Albedo nodded to a path only she saw, directing them further into the wooded hills.

The ghouls chattered as they neared the village, fanning out and hiding among the ruins, staying just out of sight and constantly moving. They stirred up dust and knocked over burnt out pillars. Constantly chattering, incessantly moving, always staying just out of sight as they tried to get near enough to whoever remained to try plucking away at their numbers.

 

[Arkarnianna]

Arkarnianna tried desperately to kill this necrotic giant. She hadn't been sure what she'd wanted to do about the fire giant, but she knew that a undead needed to die. So she thrashed desperately to grab ahold of something other than his armour. She was furious, she was going to let this beast go, because the templars, even if they couldn't tell a mage from a rock, could at least find out that this thing was undead, and the resulting battle would, if she was extra lucky, kill the templars. She was convinced at this point that this undead monster would be the lesser of two evils than these idiotic templars. The idea of such a thing even being possible terrified her. She had believed that the worst thing in the world were first necromancers and then undead, now she saw however that idiots were worse than the undead, because they are what really caused the undead armies to be created.

She decided to yell, she knew it had failed in the past, but a the very least it would make her feel better after all that had happened, "Let me go you undead brute, I know I am the closest thing, but at least make yourself useful and go kill those templars. I don't really care for exterminating you right now so buzz off. I don't have time for your stupidity at this moment. I will f..." At this moment the other hand joined the other holding her with one of the fingers happening to covering her mouth. She continued to kick and try to scream. Her hands trying desperately to grab something inside so she might stop him.

 

[Voraak Tyrethian]

As Voraak followed his new acquaintance, more ghouls shifted away from the group and headed to the bloodbath in the village. Voraak rushed with his newfound company to close in on their destination, wherever that was.

“Agreed.”
Sareth Vha Mur

Mentioning these few words called to his raven to scout ahead and make sure that they were not being followed. So far they were in the clear but adrenaline was coursing through his veins as the trio ducked into the tree line.

Excitement was building, he was this much closer to the Necromancer but the main question still dwelled in his head. What did the Necromancer want with him?