Completed The Despoiling of Alliria

[Faravain]

BEHOLD

The rapine host from the Reach. Look upon their skin banners lofted on hide-poles. See how their tarnished weapons glimmer darkly in the noonday sun as they gather on a hill before the eastern city of Alliria. Wild scalp-taking orc tribes from the Spine. CENTAURS from the Taagi-Baara steppes. Reavers and bandits and every kind of filth, be they goblin or man. Even necromancers and undead count among their hideous numbers. Watch as they are beholden to the one who called them here, the great terror of the reach, the Emerald Death, Geladryx. Look as he folds his mighty wings and perches atop the hill, ready to bear witness to the slaughter to follow, directing his warlords, like Khurash of the Spine, to commence the assault.

"Beat the skin drums," Khurash roared, spittle flying from cruel, broad lips crushed and split by dozens of fights.

Behind him, the wild orcs and goblins of the mountains struck up their slow tattoo. Centaurs chanted and sung, the music haunting and terrible from their vibrating throats.

All around him, the scattered horde set to chopping down trees to make ladders and battering rams.

It had taken them more than a month of pressing through the Reach, burning and pillaging what villages they could, or pushing through the woods, beset by Rangers, before they finally reached Alliria.

Khurash smiled. Soon, blood would flow.

 

[Elra Mistfall]

Though the lifespan of elves sometimes felt infinite, Elra never thought she'd live long enough to see a second dragon threaten Alliria. Albeit more successfully than her own rival had years before.

Well, no matter, she slew one dragon, she could slay another.

Fortunately, the skirmishes with the Allirian Rangers had given the city ample warning of the coming threat. The Merchant Council was quick to hire nearly all the mercenaries in the city, and even some from beyond its walls. Elra herself seized the opportunity to join their ranks, alongside her sister Tanith, although it'd been some time since their adventuring days. She wasn't about to let a barbarian horde pillage her home unchallenged.

Her experience and relative fame had earned her the position of Captain for the duration of the conflict. This placed her on the walls at the head of a company of archers. Her silver armor made her stand out when compared to the rest. Something that felt like both a blessing and a curse.

Down below she could see the hordes busying themselves chopping down trees. Of course, earthen fortifications and palisades had already been raised and manned outside the city proper, to delay their advance to the walls themselves.

No matter their numbers, their magic, or their skill. If they sought to pillage Alliria, they'd have a difficult time at it.

Khurash

 

[Tanith Mistfall]

If there's one thing you could depend on with barbarians, it was their lack of discipline. Even when beholden to a big fire-or-whatever-else-breathing lizard, a madman was still a madman. And that's something Tanith knew just how to take advantage of.

She watched the Rangers creep forward through the woods, somewhere thick enough that the centaurs couldn't navigate through, and that the dumber ones wouldn't know how to fight in. A perfect place to lure their foes into. She herself hung far back with a company of some of the bolder mercenaries at her back. Their mission? Whittle away the enemy's numbers before they could reach the walls.

Their plan was simple really, but already more sophisticated than the silly pillagers could manage, one company of Rangers would move forward and release a volley of arrows into the barbarian's ranks, aiming for their most valuable members. Once they'd angered the undisciplined masses, they'd fall back into the thicket, where another two companies of archers and mercenaries were hidden. Their pursuers would go running right into a trap, and die.

They weren't the only such company, several others were performing similar attacks all throughout the battlefield.

She noticed the Rangers stop near the end of the thicket and string their bows. Ooh! They must have their targets in sight! Now the fun began...

The Rangers let loose their arrows, she couldn't see who they hit, but the surprised and pained shouts told her they were successful. They promptly turned and fled back her direction, while the rest of the archers made ready.

Khurash

 

[Geladryx]

The Emerald Death was both terrifying and magnificent to behold.

Not as large as the apex of scaleykind but equipped with a cunning intellect and a necromantic aura that bellied his powers his scales glittered green, his eyes a sickly yellow due to the lingering corruption of the magic he commanded. On all fours he sank down onto his haunches, his tail swishing back and forth across the grass covered plains outstretching away from the city of Alliria. Eyes narrowed, the time had come at last.

It had been months since the razing of Grayshore and almost as long since the ambush in the Farreach Woods. The Allirians had bought themselves some time but the Horde had consolidated its power. Now at the outskirts of the city with its walls and towers climbing high the combined forces of Orcs, Marauders and Undead could at last see their prize.

The Dragon looked on, Geladryx knew patience if nothing else and his will stretched across the battlefield. No Necromancer here went unbound to him and by proximity to them no Undead did not serve him, many of those same corpses having once been Allirian Rangers or residents of Grayshore prior to their deaths. He shook his massive frilled head, spittle leaking from his jaws and wetting the ground beneath...

"Your prize awaits. Glory and power for those willing to take it. Alliria falls this day."

....when Geladryx spoke the dragons voice would resound out across the forces amassed and mustered here. Raising a taloned forelimb he gave the order to advance and a Trumpeter stationed nearby would lift his instrument, place it to his mouth and blow loudly signalling the Skin Drums that would direct Khurash and his forces.

The Areck Slums stretched out beyond the city and its outer wall, the Horde would take the Slums first. Its defenders would be slain, those who were captured or killed could be raised again to bolster the undead amongst them. Geladryx will was known.

-----

Arrow fire from the forest where Orcs and others in service to the Horde had been chopping would to transform into their siege works drew the attention of defenders. The Dragon would not waste the lives of the Orcs, a signal would go out for them to withdraw.

Undead would advance in their place, they were slow but they felt no pain, knew no fear and any arrow that did not plant itself directly in their skull would not fall them outright. Zombies were cheap and they could soak up an abundance of enemy fire long before their numbers diminished.

 

[Be'sennar]

A figure clad in red armor would pull his courser to a stop. He had been too late, Alliria was already under attack. And though he normally didn't interfere with the dealings of man... the presence of the Dragon and its necromatic horde had earned him the permission of the gods to intervene.

His gaze would sweep between both main points of combat: the Rangers beyond the walls and the walls themselves. The enemy had begun to use undead to focus on the walls, it wasn't a bad plan. But it was one that the Redeemer could foil.

"Forward Jarro.. time is of the essence. Alliria.. you are not alone." He would glance behind him as the various members of the Redeemed pulled to a stop. It was the first time that such a gathering had been called and though not all members were present, dealing with necromancy and demons were their specialty.

Jarro would snort before surging forward, the other warriors that made up the Redeemed forming alongside their leader. Blades that burned with the radiance of the Celestials would carve a path through the undead plaguing the left gate.

Today, the faithless would learn that the gods were with them.

Elra Mistfall

 

[Vardan]

Treeline Siegeworks
Addressing an Ambush

Tanith Mistfall | Geladryx

Vardan was loathe to serve a master, but when a necromancer dragon rears its foul visage, it would have been unwise to ignore the summons. Now he lead a detachment of undead to answer some of the ambushers harassing their siege-works.​

​

The alternative being the vanguard, Vardan was pleased with the assignment. He directed the undead from the back of their ranks, as befit his noble station.​

​

They entered the site of the ambush with little heed, being dispossessed of their fears, marching over fallen orcs with ambivalence. They pressed on, deeper into the forest, and deliberately sprung the trap again.​

​

Arrows peppered the undead with predictable uselessness. One struck Vardan in the shoulder of his rusted cuirass, prompting a hiss of displeasure. The city's servants had expected orcs to give chase, then, not a meandering company of undead. Their mistake.​

​

If they had any sense, they would try to crush the undead quickly, and deny their numbers to the enemy. Vardan expected the melee to begin in earnest. Their advance ceased as arrows continued to fly.​

​

"Pitiful kindred, hold for but a moment..." Vardan muttered, wrenching the arrow out of his armor and casting it aside, "...And let my flame find purchase."​

​

A black fire erupted in Vardan's cupped, skeletal hand. He bestowed it gently on some reanimated footman in front of him, and from there it spread among the rest of the undead rank, until all appeared to be smoldering - wisps of the dark flame rising off of them.​

 

[Dauner]

It had been a few weeks since Dauner and company had discovered and foiled the plans of the cult of darkness. Dauner had spent this time investigating every part of the city he could reach. He was determined to find the cult and root it out completely.
Dauner was not the kind to do selfless things. He was most often guided by nothing other than self-interest. But as a man who had once dared proclaim himself a demon lord, he could not sit by and watch little kids be sacrificed as a means of producing pure demonic energy. That went against one of the precepts that made up his divine path.
During the past few days, there seemed to have been a commotion all around Alliria, but Dauner didn't pay it any mind. He had thought of it as not important enough to distract him from his objective. However, everything change when he felt the demonic energy permeating the air, while resting in an inn.
So far, he had been unsuccessful in finding clues about the cult, and this may have been his great opportunity. He ran as fast as he could to the walls. Due to the state of panic, he was able to slip through easily.
From the walls, he noticed the horde that surrounded the city. What particularly caught his attention, were the undead. Dauner didn't have anything against necromancers or their spawns. To him, they were just another type of people. He only got concerned with them when they crossed the line.
However, what had him shaking in excitement was not the horde, but it's leader. The dragon that stood atop the hill. In his many Millennia of life, he had never slain one of these flying horrors. Creatures closest to the gods.
If he was to one day place his sword at the neck of a god, he wanted to do that after he'd taken down the next best thing. A dragon. His excitement, made him forget all about his original goal to trace the cult, and the horde of undead charging at the walls. Now, it was all about the dragon.
Elra Mistfall Be'sennar

 

[Tanith Mistfall]

Treeline Siegeworks
Ambushing the Undead

Vardan | Geladryx

At first, their plan went splendidly, the barbarians closest to them went running into the forest to be shot dead by the Rangers. Sadly, the big lizard caught on and pulled the rest of the orcs back. That was no fun.

Tanith hummed, they can't be ignoring them, so, who are they sending? She crept up to the end of the thicket and peered out. "Oh look, they're sending the zombies." She giggled when she saw some of their number's uncertainty. "Don't fuss, we knew there were undead, I've got a little surprise in mind for them. After all, there's a few things undead can't manage, and one of them is fire."

She drew her forces further back into the thicket and drew her sword, the blade of which burned with flames of a now-dead dragon, which she used to light torches and arrows aflame, while the mercenaries snatched up any potential projectile, be it sticks or acorns, piling them up next to them. The time it took the lumbering undead to reach the thicket giving them just enough time to make ready.

"They're almost upon us!" one Ranger called. "We have to hurry!"

Tanith smirked, although if she's honest it was just a bit exaggerated, she had to keep up morale after all. "And we're ready for them, oh but, let them think their little plan worked first. We don't want them to run off like the orcs did."

The Rangers would let loose a volley of normal arrows first, emboldening the undead to push further in. One of their number conjured some dark flame, magical clearly, and spread it throughout their ranks. An eerie sight, to be sure, she was sure some of their ranks were frightened by it. But magic had its limits, even if the ones he shielded were immune to fire, there'd be no way he could extend that immunity throughout the entire horde.

"Steady," Tanith said, waiting for them to draw a bit closer. "Now!"

All at once the Rangers and mercenaries alike set their projectiles on fire with torches and hurled them into the undead's ranks. While most were small and glanced off the undead harmlessly, they would land on the forest grounds and light brushes, twigs, and leaves aflame. Soon several fires sprang up in the midst of the undead. The hope being to both inflict casualties and break their ranks at once.

 

[Elra Mistfall]

The Main Assault
The Redeemer's Charge

Be'sennar | Geladryx | Dauner

Elra watched the dragon circle over his armies and call out to them. A warlord clearly, one capable of whipping orcs into a frenzy. Sadly, he appeared to be too cautious to make a move against Alliria on his own. If he had he'd have found himself hit with a barrage of spells, arrows, and ballista bolts.

Alliria's leadership might be greedy, but if there's one thing they'd spare no expense for, it was to protect themselves and their fortunes.

She lowered her gaze to the battlefield. The undead had begun to move against the Areck Slums, but they wouldn't find it unprotected. An earthen wall had been built in the months they were marching through the Reach, with a waist-high palisade erected atop. All of it was manned by mercenaries and militiamen wielding a whole host of weapons.

When the undead drew near enough they let loose a volley of arrows, slings, rocks, and most dangerously a few cases of naptha, which burst into flames on impact. Fortunately, their elevated position made it easier for them to strike the fiends on their vulnerable heads. Still, she knew they could only delay the undead, thin their numbers. They couldn't hold out indefinitely, not without...

She paused, her eyes lifting to the horizon. Cavalry, and they were charging the barbarian horde? Were they reinforcements? How? And who? Her lips parted. "Paladins, of course, they of all in Arethil would despise the works of necromancy and such savagery."

They arrived at the perfect moment as well. With the undead caught between them and the earthen walls of the Areck Slums, they'd have nowhere to run, unless they chose to fall back entirely.

 

[Geladryx]

The Hilltop

The Battlefield was a Chessboard. Geladryx was the King, the Orcs and Undead pawns and the Captains like Khurash and Vardan were the Bishops, Rooks, etc. There only remained a necessity for a Queen.

The Dragon remained at the rear of the assembled Horde. He did not fly, he not passed over any treelines. He was seated back on his haunches atop a hill just as Khurash had initially describe. There was no need for him to fly and rain death down atop the masses yet. When that time came there would be no mistaking it.

At present Geladryx seemed content to watch. He'd given the command for the savage horde to assault and take the Areck Slums outside of Alliria knowing every one who died could be raised again to contribute to the Horde once more. He'd sent the Undead to quell the ambush in the treeline siegeworks. He had no concerns, not even when he saw the cavalry charge and burning blades that sought to cleave a path through the undead.

The Trumpeter sounded again at the dragons signal.

---------

The Left Flank

Undead, normally unbothered by the assault of men were cut down by the radiant, burning blades of Be'sennar and his cavalry. Zombies fell yet this did not impact their moral, they had no fear of death or dying again. They had no will of their own. The Undead had numbers, they were slow but durable against anything but the radiant flame yet in their numbers clawed hands would reach for horse and rider to unseat them and pull them down into the gripping, tearing masses.

The sound of the Trumpeter would be heard in the distance across the battlefield, diminished yet further by the sound of combat yet its intended message was delivered to those waiting for it.

Orcish Archers, positioned back in the rear with auxiliaries would reposition themselves, nock arrows into their bows and angle them high before loosing. The Arrows, arcing up over the battlefield would descend upon the left flank and into the undead. The Zombies, penetrated by the arrows remained unfeeling while the volley fire struck at the cavalry, seeking any weakpoint in their armor.

---------

The Treeline Siegeworks
The Ambush

The Dragon barely paid attention to the treeline at the moment. Vardan would quell the uprising there he had no doubt.

There was the reoccurring question of the Queen on the Chessboard though which is why when Geladryx craned his head back on the hilltop, splitting his ravenous maw briefly he would make an inaudible call. A call for someone who could be a Queen on the chessboard.

Visha Sofka, it's time to burn it all.

Tanith Mistfall Elra Mistfall

 

[Vardan]

Treeline Siegeworks
Addressing an Ambush

Tanith Mistfall | Geladryx

Fiery projectiles struck the undead as a matter of course, though they inflicted no more casualties than the earlier volleys had. Small fires sprouted from the undergrowth, casting the woods in foul smoke and heat.​

​

Mindless undead, deprived of pain and fear, marched on with the indifference of the grave. The sad truth of the matter was that a dead man was no more flammable than a live one. Small projectiles could not ignite them in a meaningful way.​

​

Alas, that the ambushers had let pass the opportunity to take flight once more. The undead made a final surge and fell upon the ambushers in short order. The crackling of the spreading forest fire became immediately drowned in the clash of steel against steel and the rallying cries of the living.​

​

The throng that carried Vardan’s black flame moved with an unexpected, fearsome vitality. They made easy butchery of the foolhardy rangers and mercenaries they came upon. When one of their rank inevitably fell, the black flame did not falter - it only erupted again, somewhere else on the battlefield, in the breast of another undead.​

​

In this way, their number remained constant.​

​

The dark fire burned within Vardan more prominently than any of them, wisps of it coiling around him, causing the pallid hairs that still clung to his head to blow this way and that. But he did not partake in the melee himself, only observing from the sidelines, a bored hand to his skeletal chin as if watching an overwrought performance.​

​

The animated remains of two previously valiant knights, still clad in rusted, bloodstained plate, stood watch with him.​

 

[Dauner]

Standing atop the wall and staring at none other than the dragon, Dauner gaze persisted as though trying to tear a hole in the beast. However, he was interrupted as an arrow came flying at him.
A slight movement was all it took to dodge the arrow. However, Dauner was now back to his senses.
"Really!" he sighed. "No need to be impatient now" he said to himself, turning to give the dragon one last look. A small streak of lightning shot out of his eyes, and flew towards the dragon. Dodging it would prove futile as it had locked on, and there was really no need to do that. As soon as it was close to the dragon, the lightning would explode in a tiny spark, revealing a voice message shot from Dauner.
"Try not to get yourself killed before we meet in battle" the voice, amplified by the lightning, would boom for Geladryx and all around him to hear.
This might have made Dauner pass off as arrogant to who witnessed it. But that would be no overstatement. For a man who aimed to one day slay gods and become one himself, this amount of arrogance was a minimum requirement.
After sending off the message, Dauner wouldn't wait for it to arrive, and immediately turn his attention to his allies and foes. Although he had no one to bark orders to, he had his skills to put to use.
He grabbed a bow and some arrows. Infused his demonic energy into an arrow as he took it out and readied. And then fire at an undead.
The arrow pierced through its chest but didn't kill it. Instead, the undead turned on its fellow undead warriors.
"And that's what I call, undead high jacking" he mused.
A useful skill, but one that could only be used to pick off one undead at a time. Not the best for mass killing, but one good enough to create openings in the enemies ranks.
Geladryx Elra Mistfall

 

[Tanith Mistfall]

Treeline Siegeworks
Ambushing the Undead
(I thought fire was a weakness of the undead?)

Vardan | Geladryx

The enemy approached, but lucky for them, resilient as they were, they were still slow, shambling zombies. While Tanith had at her beck and call some of the finest Rangers and mercenaries in Alliria. They knew how to navigate woods and move faster than their enemy.

And they weren't there for a direct assault anyways. They didn't have to engage their enemy full-on.

Tanith whistled, giving the signal to pull back before the slow-moving undead could reach them, though a few stragglers failed to retreat in time and went down fighting the advancing zombies. The majority fell back further into the thicket, a few Rangers stopped to fire more arrows, a few of which found their homes in the skulls of the ones engulfed in flames. She noticed the fires vanished and appeared elsewhere once they did. How bothersome.

Well, their objective was clear then, whittle away, and kill the necromancer the moment the opportunity presented itself. "Remember everyone, they're slow, you're fast, you know these woods, they don't! Keep them from cornering you and you'll be fine!" she exclaimed happily. As though she weren't in the midst of battle.

With that, the Rangers scattered throughout the thicket, but not in a chaotic manner, in a practiced one. Stopping to fire arrows or hurl more fiery projectiles into their enemy's ranks. From their closer range, their arrows were more likely to find their mark in the zombie's heads.

Meanwhile, the previous fires began to spread and grow as they fed on the woods and bodies around them, beginning to create a stronger blaze near the entrance to the forest.

 

[Faravain]

Khurash strained to join the fray, like a hound on leash who caught the scent of a stag.

At last he could withstand the urge to join the battle no longer and with wild abandon he rushed forward. Clad only in his buck skins, he wielded a long knife in one hand and a throwing axe in the other. Across his body were blood runes made by a shaman to ward away harmful magic.

As he ran, his wargs loped along beside him. He reached out, catching the harness of one of the beasts and leaped into the saddle. Behind him came dozens more warg riders and from their throats came blood curdling screams.

The counter-charge took them straight for the Allirian cavalry entangled with the undead outside the Areck Slums.

Khurash felt the warg’s loping stride beneath him and as they drew closer the wargs let out howls.

Then the wargs crashed into them and all become a blur of fur and fang. Wargs leaped upon horses with raking claws. Horses lashed out with steel shod hooves. Amid it all came the shrieks of dying animals.

Khurash launched himself out of the saddle and straight at a knight, seeking to tackle the warrior from his horse. Be'sennar

 

[Elra Mistfall]

The Main Assault
The Redeemer's Charge

Be'sennar | Khurash | Geladryx

Elra watched the unfolding battle from above with a hard expression. The unexpected cavalry charge had taken the momentum out of the undead's assault, allowing the defenders at the earthen wall to fight them off without any undue challenges. So far, the battle progressed almost promisingly, but they had a long way to go.

Through the chaos of battle, she caught sight of a familiar warrior, one she'd met only weeks before, Dauner A. Light, he could be helpful in repelling this assault, if properly directed. A thought that was confirmed when she heard Geladryx let out another roar like he was calling for someone. Perhaps it'd be for the best if they had a wildcard of their own.

She witnessed the enemy mounting a countercharge toward their reinforcements. Whoever they were, she would not leave them to die. She glanced at a soldier to her right. "Sergeant! Send word into the city, tell them I need a portion of the Heavy Infantry, and some of the Cleric's and a Mage too, at once!"

"Yes Captain!" the sergeant saluted and hurried off.

 

[Vardan]

Treeline Siegeworks
Addressing an Ambush

Tanith Mistfall | Geladryx

The enemy fled through burning woodland, surrendering their slower companions to save themselves. Their flight quickly turned into a scattering, though Vardan lacked the expertise to see it as a deliberate tactic. They had broken and run for all he knew. Such was the nature of the lowborn - to fight without honor or merit.​

​

By his reckoning, their strength had been in their formation. Now they were atomized, and the battle quickly devolved into little more than a series of isolated skirmishes. Vardan saw no need to stop the undead from pursuing their targets, though he did not let them be drawn too far afield.​

​

Smoke now clouded the forest in a perpetual haze, searing eyes and lungs. As the fire grew wild and unrestrained, the scorching heat could be felt far and wide. The living would find effective fighting under such conditions to be difficult, if not impossible.​

​

Any hope of simply outlasting Vardan’s forces was dwindling - especially as the black flame remained alight.​

 

[Geladryx]

The Hilltop

The Lightning streaked from the walls of Alliria towards the Dragon, the sickly yellow eyes of Geladryx wavered in their direction. In a moment he expected to be struck by some arcane attack but instead the lightning would explode and fizzle, booming with a voice that the Dragon did not recognize. It was amusing.

In response the Emerald Death would shake his head, the frills lining the back of his neck following suit before a horrible laugh broke from his maw...

"Amusing."

...such threats were little more than bravado to him. At this point he did not concern himself with an enemy who was not challenging him directly. To do that someone would need to break the ranks of the Undead and the Orcs then do the same with the auxiliaries behind which were composed of archers as well as minor siege engines.

It was perhaps an inconvenience that the forest where timber was to be cut for siege engines and other mechanisms appeared to be burning but the Horde would manage. They'd created machinery on route to Alliria. Another raise of his forelimb and a flex of his deadly claws signaled the Trumpeter to sound again.

---------

The Rear Line

The Skin Drums changed their rhythm again, signalling an as of yet unknown element of the Horde.

It took moments but beyond the din of battle several Ballistae were being wheeled over the Hill to form with the auxiliary line. Orcs pushed the war machines to the fore, the savage race well suited to the laborious task of firing the weapons. Once they had been pushed into place enormous arrows tipped with iron were loaded into place.

The Drumming slowed, ceased and then changed tempo.

The Ballistae fired. The Arrows aimed for the outer walls, flying over the battling forces below them. Several of the Arrows came equipped with long chains attached to them, their iron tips would penetrate the 'skin' of the outer wall, digging in deep. Once they'd sunk deep into the rock and stone of the walls the Orcs manning the Ballistae would begin to wheel the large arrows back in causing the chains to tense.

The Outer Walls of Alliria were thick, Ballistae no matter how many could not simply pull them down however there was method to the madness. The Orcs and Undead fought against the defenders of the Areck Slums, the Ballistae would pull chunks of the rock wall free sending them to fall downwards towards the lines of the Allirian Defenders. Large chunks of stone would crash down, throw up dust and debris and create more carnage and the arrows would continue to wheel themselves back.

---------

Treeline Siegeworks

The Timber that was cut before the ambush would be useful. Now that the forest appeared to be in flames the Orcs that had been stationed there stayed on the fringe, some to defend and others to retrieve.

The Orcs also remained outside the forest to intercept anyone who might have fled from it. They would attack anyone who was not one of the Undead that Vardan commanded and ensure that ambushers and Allirian Defenders could not hook around the Horde or the force under Vardan's command.

Dauner A. Light Khurash Tanith Mistfall Elra Mistfall Be'sennar

 

[Tanith Mistfall]

(Sorry to say, but Geladryx's post kind of invalidated everything I was doing with this character [trying to stop the siege weapons from being built, scorched earth style], something they wouldn't have attempted at all if the weapons were already built. So I'm going to withdraw her. I'll just say she picked off some of the undead and fell back, out of the battle. No sense in continuing to fight on this front if there's nothing to be fought for.)

(I'll be entering a new character in her stead. Sorry for the inconvenience.)

 

[Vardan]

Treeline Siegeworks
Addressing an Ambush

Tanith Mistfall | Geladryx

The sounds of battle gradually faded. The ambushers, repelled by flame and hounded by the undead, were a threat no more, and Vardan cared not to pursue them. The remains of his force slowly regrouped and eventually returned to him, reforming ranks amid the fire-choked woods.​

​

Vardan inspected the ‘survivors’, finding several of the unarmored sorts had been burnt nude. An undignified display, which Vardan only rationalized by acknowledging these undead did not belong to him. He'd never let any men-at-arms in his employ onto the field in such lackluster protection.​

​

The Allirians had perhaps succeeded in causing a momentary distraction and thinning the undead. There would be no way to replenish from this engagement - any corpses in the woods would be lost to the blaze before they could be scavenged.​

​

But, Vardan mused, undead could be raised from any rotten cadaver. For the elite Allirian Rangers whose blood slaked the earth, for the brave and stalwart mercenaries whose bones burnt to ash - they would take a lifetime to replenish. And their sacrifices had purchased nothing.​

​

After another cursory survey of the forest fire, Vardan and his appointed forces retired from the field, making a slow and steady march back to the siegeworks.​

 

[Be'sennar]

The Redeemers Charge

War often wrought fear. Fear of loss, fear of battle, fear of cowardice. Fear could break the will of any sentient being, and though the enemy horde seemed vast, they would not fall victim to that.

Be'senaar's red armor shone like a beacon into the charge, and every Defender that lay eyes on him would feel strengthened to their core, emboldened, and fight with the vigor of ten warriors. This was their home, their lives, their victory.

Any successful Cavalry charge didn't get static, they charged in and out. And so that's what they did. The initial charge had cleared many of the undead from before the walls, they would then round for the second pass.

"Arrows!" One of his Paladins would shout over the beating of hooves.

"Landros! Fel! Deal with them." Be'senaar would order. Arrows. How quaint. Even the howling of wargs could be heard.

They would charge again and as arrows fell, an invisible shield would begin to form overhead, deflecting the arrows as they pinged harmlessly. The Wargs and their riders would not be so lucky, as the arrows would hit some of them as well.

Then the gods would whisper a warning to their Champion. Danger. An orc who seemed to be ever the fool had begun to charge the Redeemer, then decided leaping would be the best approach. There were a number of actions Be'senaar could take, but the one that amused him, would come in the form of the orc and his mount, as well as the closest wargs to them colliding with all the force in the world against the shield erected by Landros.

The Redeemer was sure it was stun, if not, surely phase this poor creature. He must have been twisted by the dragon, the true evil that needed to fall. When he spoke, his tone bore that of pity. "My son, you should abandon this folly, save your soul."

As the ballistae began to fire on the walls, a bold move given the thickness of the outer defenses, mages and the like would begin to target the chains, destroying them one by one to foil the plan of collapsing rubble upon their other defenders.

Elra Mistfall || Khurash

 

[Solon Raye]

Darkness is what brought he and his brethren to Alliria.

The Merchant Lords of Alliria were petty creatures, even the best of them. The work that brought the Knights of Anathaeum to the City of Alliria had been dire, one that required the best minds and the greatest swords that the Order had to offer. Together with their might and knowledge, they completed their task only to find that the skies were full of smoke. The voices and touch of foul creatures were on the outskirts of this city. Solon could feel the magic touching him through the gilded steel that was meant to protect him. The Knights of Anathaeum were few in number there. Compared to the ranks of the evil they faced on the daily basis, their own number was always small and yet still they persisted.

Duty called.

The Knights of Anathaeum would answer. Doom be damned.

His blood red cloak trailed behind him as he ascended the walls, going where he felt he would be the most useful. Men lay dying on the walls already and yet they were still strong. Pulling back his hood and casting his cloak aside, his gilded armor shined against whatever light would catch it. At his side, the sword Cursebreaker's edge hungered for the lifeforce of the great evil at the walls. Solon stayed his hand for now. He stayed it's wrath. He set his mind to work instead. Old incantations. He remembered them well.

"And on the Seventh Day, Suleyaman prayed to the Celestials.
He wondered how the mighty walls of Cython could fail. How it's people's spirit might be broken by the hopelessness and bedlam outside of the Great King's Walls. He prayed to the stars.
The blood of Drakon answered.
Metisa blessed him.
Astra smiled upon him.
Behold his light."
​

And so they beheld the magic of a Knight Pursuant, dedicated to his path. Light emitted from him like the light from a great furnace or a light from the stars themselves. He lifted his hands to the chains that pulled at the massive walls. A beam worked to heat the links so that they might give under the heat his holy magic had created. The ballistae were many, but Solon's will was great. There would be more falling from this wall soon than chains.

Deep down, a part of him longed for the fight that was to come. Let these horrors go back screaming to whatever hell birthed them...

 

[Jane]

The Redeemer's Charge​

In another life, Jane would have been on the other side of this. She would have been sacking Alliria for the glory of the Dark Ones. She would have been offering their blood to Alarak along with her Sisters.

From one set of chains to another. Slavery in Cerak, slavery to Astra. Toil building the Eunuch's ships, toil bringing "the light" of Astra to the world.

But hey. Buck up, sailor. You had your taste of freedom out there on the open sea, that small stretch of life when no one could tame you. You had it and it tasted good. Jane had these thoughts frequently enough to hazard a "reset," and she had them more now that she was here in Alliria. Oh...was it nice to be the one stepping on others back then, pressing her foot into their faces, mashing her toes into their flesh, feeling their writhing against her sensitive soles.

There was none of that here, and very little of it (Jane had her ways...even with shackles about her ankles) ever since the Redeemer boarded her ship, clamped his hand over her face, and one blinding flash of light changed her life forever.

And she couldn't resist his call. Not if she didn't want her heart to explode. Thanks Nykios, you son of a—

The memory of the Redeemer's hand, smothering her face, that white light, smothering her thoughts then and smothering her thoughts now.

Jane blinked. The reset hit her hard. What...was she doing?

Oh yeah, that's right. Alliria was being attacked. And the Redeemer was charging in. Also being attacked. Oh, good job, big orc with the endearing enthusiasm for assailing paladins. Now if he could just cut the Redeemer's head off of his shoulders and save Jane the trouble, first, instant promotion to First Mate to Jane's Captain, and second, everything would be—

The memory of the Redeemer's hand, smothering her face, that white light, smothering her thoughts then and smothering her thoughts now.

Jane blinked. This reset left her reeling in the saddle of her horse. What...was she doing?

Oh yeah, that's right.

Jane (considerably alone now, having fallen behind in the charge) finally drew her sword. She said half-heartedly, mostly to herself, "Astra's celestial light...will...ah, fuck it."

Profanity. That's another whipping added to the tally. There was probably going to be a big tally after today.

Regardless, Jane started to charge in after Be'sennar's paladins. Maybe she'd make it there in time to help the Redeemer himself with Khurash. Maybe she wouldn't.

Guess we'll just have to see, sailor.

Be'sennar Khurash Elra Mistfall

 

[Visha Sofka]

The Treeline Siegeworks​

From among the trees and the Ballistae, among Geladryx's horde, there came a growing sound.

Laughter.

"....aaahhhhhhhhahahaha...HAHAHAHAHAHAHA....HAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!"

Geladryx Vardan

 

[Dauner]

The Main Assault
Defending The Walls

---

Dauner would not concern himself with the arrows coming at the walls. The city had more than enough mages to shoot them down, or destroy the chains if they failed to. Considering the enemy had yet to declare a full scale assault on the city, Dauner found it foolish to use ordinary projectiles against a wall with plenty of mages to defend it.
On the other hand, Dauner considered his tactics lacking. Although it could make fighting the invaders easier, it could not change the general situation of the battlefield. Dauner needed a plan. A winning plan. But had neither a troop to command, nor a strategic position in the defender's ranks.
"I guess, I should create for myself a group of followers after this" Dauner thought to himself.
If it weren't for his desire to slay a dragon, he would most likely have left the walls to get himself some sleep.
He surveyed the condition of the battlefield. The knights fighting the undead at the flanks didn't seem to need any help. The reinforcing orcs seemed unable to pass by them without a tough fight, so Dauner assumed it would be safe to not worry about that side of the battlefield. He'd especially try to stay away from these knights so as not to be mistaken for an enemy, due to the demonic aura he emanated.
The siege engines had been successfully built, which wasted the efforts of the mercenaries and rangers at the treeline battlefront. Retreat was essentially the only way forward from there.
Several defenders had already fallen to the rain of Arrows, and many more bore injuries from it. A few had been fatally injured, and were already at death's door.
Dauner walked past the half dead warriors, dropping onto each of their foreheads a drop of his blood. As he did, he whispered a chant.

I am Dauner A. Light
Demon King of the seven virtues
By my name, deliver to me these souls who seek to cross the boundary of the afterlife
So they may serve my will
Today, and for all eternity ​

What followed, was a powerful disturbance in the skies above. The heavens roared as if outraged by the Dauner's actions. Dauner in turned, had consumed a lot of his essence to bring back about 30 men and women on the brink of death. But there was no reason to worry. On a battlefield filled with death and the undead, replenishing it would prove to be easier than expected.
Dauner moved the now unconscious warriors to a safe place, as their injuries began to heal, leaving not even a scar behind. He'd be able to use them in a few minutes. For now, he would abstain from battle as he recuperated by absorbing the demonic energy that filled the battlefield.

 

[Faravain]

How swiftly did the warrior of the Spine vault from his saddle, baring teeth, bare of fear, and bearing only his leathers. A war cry ripped from him, a raw, red, ragged yell, full-throated and full of the promise of violence.

Before him, the knight in armor painted red raised up a magical shield, which Khurash would have slammed into with a heavy thud had he not had the aforementioned blood runes painted onto his skin. The power of those runes dispelled such magic directed against him.

WATCH

WITNESS

​

LOOK AND SEE​

A flash of red in the sunlight.

The glow of spell against spell.

Khurash crashed through the shield spell, smoke rising from one of the blood runes as it burned away.

He landed with full force atop the neck of the horse. He heard the words of the knight and answered with a snarl.

"Son? SON? I am of the Uru tribe. I know no father -" He raised his left hand back then drove it down with a swift, ruthless, hammering blow.

"-BUT THE MOUNTAIN."

And he rammed his long knife deep into the unbarded neck of the knight's horse, twisting the blade in a geyser of hot blood.

Be'sennar | Jane

​