Quest The Tides of the Dead

Organization specific roleplay for governments, guilds, adventure groups, or anything similar
It was another dreadlord. One with brown hair and a young one who came over at Landon's request of a medic. A young man. He knelt beside the knight and waved his hand over Landon's back. Landon felt a strange, warm sensation as torn flesh and muscle began knitting itself back together.

Sweet relief.

Landon dipped his head in gratitude as the brown-haired boy...he was really just a boy, stood and disappeared back into the fray. Healers weren't very valued among the ranks of the dreadlord, at least not as high ranking. But hell, Landon thought they were the most valuable of all.

Another relief as that hole in the ground was closed. A yelp from Grey and Landon tracked where the wolf went, seeing Zana collapse. He was back to his feet in a second, fighting his way to his friend. A dagger into a stray undead. An arrow into the head of another. Then he was kneeling at her side, Grey watching their flank. Luckily they had another reprieve with the main hole closed up.

"C'mon lass," Landon knelt over her and touched her shoulder once, worried that he would disintegrate like those ghosts. When nothing happened, he clenched his jaw and shifted her slightly, hefting her into his arms and then over one of his broad shoulders. "Zana, wake up," voice rumbled against her as he began carrying her to higher ground. One arm flinging daggers as he went. The other securing her to him as Grey did the rest.
 
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There was a volley of arrows quicky soaring towards them. It was all Raveus knew. In the very instant, it was all he could focus on. His hand shot out, and there was a small blast in the sky. It’s boom resonated over the walls, echoing the ears of soldiers that stood on the walls. The arrows pathetically fell to the tide below. He quickly surveyed the area. On the ground was the golem. Thanks to the catapults efforts, the beast was cripple and his sister had pinned it to the ground. It writhed and moaned. It snapped bones and ligaments as it tried to escape, but to no avail. He would have to end it very soon before Milla was distracted.

Aye, the golem was down, but the siege towers progressed untested. They were so close now, he could see the gleaming red eyes of the residents inside. He could hear their stomping, their excited chatter. He could feel the blood lust coming from them. They would be boarded soon. He could take out a couple of the towers, but there was no question to being breached. “Prepare to fight!” He roared, as he walked to the edge of the walls. His hand shot forward over the golem and several small blasts consumed it. They only grew in power as they rioted around Milla’s forcefield. It’s roar hammered into his head as the stench of burning flesh assaulted his nostrils.

He made his way to his sister, aggressively pushing those in his way aside. She was covered in bruises, her nose leaking blood. Her shoulder was horribly out of place, and she had the same look of horror as he held. Wordlessly, his hands came to her shoulder and with a quick jolt, he yanked her shoulder back into it’s socket. There was a sharp yelp from her, but he she had suffered worse. “That was reckless, Milla.” He said, drawing his rapier. “I hope you can still wield that axe.” He said, his free hand waving infront of them. A couple of the towers burst into flame at the base. They quickly burned and toppled onto the thinning tide below, but the fight was far from over. More towers advanced, and the ones that survived were at the castle walls. In the corner of his eyes he caught those abandoning post, laying their weapons aside as they ran in fear.

Raveus caught a one by the wrist, anger boiling inside him. “You would flee?” He asked, genuinely surprised at the man’s gall. Raveus was met surprised stutters and pleading. “Pathetic.” He said, his eyes growing dark. He shoved the man in the chest, sending him back reeling. Immediately with out pause, a small, confined blast sent the man flying into the nearest docking siege tower. The man’s body knocked into the undead that spilled forth. A second blast consumed the tower, but it was already too late. The dead were already on the wall. “Fight!” Raveus yelled. “No man or woman leaves with their life!” He commanded.
 
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Drip...

Drip...

Drip.

Blood ran down her sword and hit the flagstones beneath her feet. In the silence it was a deafening sound yet... she seemed deaf to it. Her arm ached and she could feel herself swaying on her feet but she wasn't done. She couldn't rest. Not until they were all dead. They deserved that, at the very least, she thought wearily to herself. So with effort she hefted her sword once more onto her shoulder and wiped a hand across her face, smearing blood across her features in the process.

"Come."

Two guards pushed forward another Dreadlord, her armour marking her out as a Luana member. Their eyes met and in hers, Zana saw the hatred, the betrayal.

"Do you submit to the new regime?" her tone sounded bland even to her own ears. Her fellow Dreadlord - a sister from her cavalry unit - spat at her feet.

"Traitor."

The guards forced her to her knees before her.

"One last chance. Join us," please, she added silently. The girl remained stoically silent and Zana tried not to let the sadness consume her as she hefted her sword. "Very well," the girl was pushed forward, her head placed upon the chopping block, and Zana swung.

Again.

And again.


* * *
The vision left her agonisingly slowly and a soft groan escaped her lips; it felt like she had been hit by a full cavalry charge on her own.

"What happened?" she had been on her horse... and now... "Landon?" she blinked, clearing her blurry vision so that his face came into sharper focus. "Landon you need to find Talus, you need to tell him..." she swallowed the rising bile in her throat as she took in the bodies of dreadlords and undead all around them. It was carnage. Just like in her vision.

"Landon you need to tell him to ready the guard; the revolution needs to happen today."
 
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Another chasm sealed.

Another stream of undead locked away.

Horns sounded in the distance. The call of the Guard which signaled that more of the horde was falling upon the wall. Talus could recognize the sound, and so could the man which was with him. They looked at each other, eyes locking.

"Go! I can handle the rest."

The undead would not stop, not in their long tirade, but he knew the tide was stemming. Now.

Now was the time.

Talus nodded his head, form flickering for a brief moment as he suddenly dashed forward. The ghostly shade that he left behind seemed to remain for a moment more, and then it snapped into being after him as Talus rushed towards the wall.

The Houses had been foolish at the start. Sending out a tide of warriors when an assault was still to come had been a mistake. Now though? Now the tide had been stemmed. Now they had an opportunity. They had to break this foreign foe, slaughter those who stilled remained and stop them before they could enter the city once more.

Now as the time. "RALLY!"

His voice boomed.

"Rally to me!" The words echoed out as he dashed towards the eastern gate, calling upon the Guard, Dreadlords, even Vel Anir itself.

They had to break the lines, and then, then would come a new sort of glory. A new Vel Anir.
 
“Merlin’s beard,” Landon looked around and bent his legs, finding a spot along the walls. It was the first landing up to the rampart. He gently set Zana down. The wall protecting her on one side even as the guard streamed past. Some citizens coming up to try and find somewhere safe. Landon remained in front of her. A wall between her and the world.

Fuk. Did the commanders even know she was pregnant? What the hell was she even doing here? If he was Talus he would’ve warded her lovely arse to the cabin.

“Until you can stand and hold a weapon I’m not leaving you, lass.” Sharp eyes scanned the chaos as he heard Talus’ call. Sounded like he already knew.

There was a gurgling sound at the base of the stairs he just climbed. He already had an arrow on his bow, releasing it into the skull of an undead straggler. There was a sharp caw from above as a falcon circled downward toward them.

Landon risked a glance up, a tight smile breaking briefly on his face. “Grog. Might be another way to deliver Talus the message, love. You may be a damned magician but you and I both know you’re not invincible.”
 
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Merosh stopped on the stone terrace of a building. It had a somewhat higher ground level then the steeply street besides it, where guardians rushed down and civilizants up. Both shouting in different tones, some commanding and instructing, others panicking and fearful.

And then there was Merosh, standing aside and calmly watching the scene. Here he was still at the inner rings of the walls, but high enough to see over. To see the black sea of billowing shapes and ignating sparks of red and dark in between within the distant sound of thousands bodys moving. He gazed at the scenery like an artist at a beautiful work of painting. But in fact he analyzed it.

There were a lot, indeed. How was it possible that they could came so close to Vel Anir unseen in such large numbers? Were the scouts so bad or had Vel Anir just become so carelessly already?
Perhaps it would have been better if Merosh had taken his bow with him, which he had left behind - but now it was too late, he wouldn't return for it. The message had reached him just as he was snoozing in the bathtub, he had been quickly woken up by the thunderous knock on his door. He had had to get dressed quickly, his hair was still wet now and slightly dripping.

Merosh started to move. He still had some way to get to the far wall, where the other guards and dreadlords were gathering. With a high leap he pushed himself with his magnetism farther then his feet alone were able. His clothes fluttered soundly in the sudden movement, before he landed on a roof of a deeper standing building - taking another, faster route, then the crowded streets could offer.

~
When he reached the outer wall, he tried to look for Barrin for just a moment, but quickly gave it up. There were just too many people and too many auras. Most of them stood still as the gates were closed, but those ranged soldier on the wall were in action. Merosh pushed his way through the crowd towards the wall, as he could also do something at a distance.

"AIM FOR THE BLACK CLOAKS!"

A shouting voice that rose above the noise. Merosh did not stop, but took a quick look. He could not make out the source of the voice in the crowd, but that didn't mattered. What mattered was the piece of information.

"NOT THE GHOULS! THE CLOAKS!"

Noted. Merosh reached the wall, it was even for him too high to jump, so he needed to take the stairs. He took four steps at once and arrived quickly at the top. Here, he walked to the next nearest archer.

"Give me your bow.", he demanded. After his fired arrow the archer glanced up and looked puzzled. He opened his mouth in objection.

"Give me your damn bow, now", Merosh repeated in a more insistent voice. What was he to react that dumb? The Archer finally handed him the bow. That's it. He would have snatched the bow from his hand if he had drawn longer. Probably that's what Merosh should have done right away. He grabbed an arrow from the archer's quiver and drew the bow, aiming into the black sea. The bowstring was weakly tensioned for his standards, but that had to be enough for now.

He opened his flow of vision, trying to make out the black cloaks in the waves of the undead. He was very good at distinguishing similar colours with the help of his vision, but there was probably a better way.
He infused his flow of vision with mana, enabling him to see magic and the aura of a person. And indeed, those of the necromancer were as clearly differentiated in colour from those of the undead as a signal light was from the darkness. Merosh did not need to improve his natural vision this way and could spare his eyes - this magic sight was enough.

He let off an arrow at one of these colour-contrasting spots. The first arrow seemed to miss because the colour remained unchanged. The second arrow shot let that colour fade and with it a few dozen undead fell in its immediate radius.
While he barely noticed the trebuchet's projectiles, he could more than clearly perceive the summoned flickering flames in the sky - with his magic sight they were even brighter than with normal view. Both did their damage. The opposing towers exploded or shattered, providing the orchestra of battle din with new noises.

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"My, are you really a dreadlord to be that ineffective.", a female voice sounded suddenly out of nowhere. Merosh took a quick glance to the side. A dreadlord holding an arrow but no bow, the tip enclosed in her hand and smiling at him. For a very brief moment he looked irritated. According to the emblem on her chest, she belonged to House Virak.
"The only one ineffective seems to be you, standing uselessly around.", he responded, then he turned back to the battlefield. The woman laughed.
"Dumbass, I'm already helping you.", she answered. Merosh took a deep breath. He plucked the arrow from her hand and tapped the arrowhead under her chin.
"Watch your language for I won't hesitate to throw you down the wall.", he told her with a calm voice but warning undertone. At the same moment he noticed with his magic sight that the arrowhead was glowing. She seemed to have done something to it. The woman smiled, noticing his glance.
"Use it. Aim at the towers.", she advised him. Moving her lower jaw, the arrowhead cut into her skin, a drop of blood trickled down.
"The towers? With an arrow?", he asked unconvinced.
"Try it. You will see."

After Merosh himself could sense that the arrowhead was magically charged, he would give it a try. Letting go of the dreadlord he put on the arrow, aiming at one of the standing towers and releasing the bowstring. The moment the arrow hit, it triggered an explosion. The other dreadlord laughed and Merosh understood now. Seemed like that one dreadlord over here wasn't the only one who could cause explosions. He held out his hand.
"Quick, do more of them.", he advised her.
"With pleasure!", she answered, picking up the next arrows.
"Can't you blow away those towers just right away?", Merosh wondered.
"No, I do need direct contact first and time to charge.", she explained.
"How ineffective.", he teased her back for her words before. While she needed time to charge, he took other arrows to eliminate black coats in the meantime.

~​

Something shook the walls. It was not the dark magic that was shot against it, it did not come from the wall itself, but from the ground. Merosh turned around, only to see a ripping hole in the ground from which undead crawled. What? How could this happen now? How many dreadlords were here that no one had noticed what was happening right under their feet. Merosh hissed a swear, but turned back to the towers. There were enough guards and dreadlords, they had to get along. He was more useful up here, shooting down necromancers and towers. But something else took shape in between.
At first it was not apparent what it was becoming, but the more it took shape the clearer it became. A monster of rotten flesh and bones, pieces of corpses that grew unnaturally with it and made it huge.
"I'll give you an extra charged one for this, a regular explosion won't do it.", the Dreadlord besides him spoke.
"But hurry up.", he hissed. Merosh took a look around. Where was the other blast guy? Couldn't he at least fire an explosion at the monster? Looking for him he noticed someone else. A woman, rather still a girl, stood in a strange posture. With his mana infused flow of vision still up, he could see her magic. And what she did was familiar to him, similiar to his magnetism.
He had already considered toppling the towers away with his physical force, but they were outside his radius, too far away. Besides, it would have taken too much mana for too little result. Ineffective. He saved his energy for more useful actions.

The blast dreadlord guy beside the girl didn't acted, at least not with explosions. Only the girl and the trebuchet seemed to have any effect against the monster.
Merosh looked behind him. All the undeads now crawling out of various holes in the ground and wreaking havoc, it didn't looked like the guards and dreadlords had the situation under control. Merosh sighed. Were no one able to plug these damn holes? Was there not a single geomancer here? Just as he wondered, one of the holes collapsed and buried some of the crawling undead. Finally.
"Hey, are you actually acting or just staring around all day?", the female Dreadlord beside him asked.


This time Merosh's eyes caught the person with that voice from before.
"Yes", he answered her in a calm, deep voice, whilst following the running dreadlord with his eyes.

"Rally to me!"

"Now, I will really act.", he added. Merosh dropped the bow carelessly and jumped onto the railing.
"Hey!", he could hear the female protesting, but ignored her, as he took one step forward into free fall.
 
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Grey boxed her in on her other side, planting his large shaggy head in her lap. Looking between the two of them - Londan's stern frown and Grey's worried furry face - she knew she wasn't going to win an argument. Instead she sighed and took the water skin off her belt.

"Two minutes," she muttered and took a sip of water which quickly turned into several long gulps. Water ran down her chin and dropped onto the wolf's head causing his ears to flick. Zana hadn't realised quite how parched and exhausted she was. Even now as she reached for her magic it felt like she was moving through tar. At least there was no sign of that odd ancient magic that made her nauseas just thinking about it.

Eventually she offered the now half-full skin to Landon.

"Thanks, for pulling me out," she scratched Grey's ears and glanced past Landon to the chaos beyond. Even with her obscured view she could see the tides had turned now. It was like a sudden void of people down below. Dreadlords, ordinary soldiers, even some citizens who had grabbed weapons from fallen friends dashed out of the gates into the enemy beyond the wall. Those left behind were only the injured and healers.

"I'll be fine with Grey. Go, find Talus."