Fable - Ask We take Arta Erë | The War Board

[The Shorai]

We take Arta Erë!​

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We are on the move. With the recent defeat at the city of Sindrost, the war council has agreed that the retaking of the fortress of Arta Erë is a strategic asset we cannot be without.

The Fortress of Arta Erë stands between the cities of Sindrost and Sharyrdaes, and is built upon a naturally formed chokepoint in the terrain. Its strategic value cannot be understated. Failure to secure this location will leave Sharyrdaes once again vulnerable to attack.
We cannot let this happen!

Secure the fortress and the enemy forces will flee!

Arta Erë is like any other traditionally built Aerai construct - vast, and grandiose. Due to this, a sizeable force is required to hold the location.
The surrounding area is a relatively open landscape to the south, with a sharp and jagged terrain to the north with a singular clear path through for many kilometers. The fortress is built into and upon the jagged landscape alongside this path.​

 

[Filn Stenlager]

This was supposed to have been a marvellous occasion.

In the months since he'd arrived in Aeraesar, Filn had been tasked with a particular objective. There were many relics from the old war, but none so grand as this. And from what he could tell, it was never actually completed in time! Hence, it had been Filn's duty to correct that. Construction of this sort was not necessarily his strongest suite, but while he was one of stone, there were many a dwarf with more a mind for metal. And Filn knew a thing or two.

This was supposed to have been a marvellous occasion.

Departing from Sharyrdaes with the wind in their hair, their quarry not long before them by these means. By air. To find himself upon the decks of an airship, this was no small wonder. He could not say when any had seen the like, let alone spoke of it. And here he was now, amongst the ranks of other dwarves, and with elves, their old Aerai friends.

And they were fighting fucking monsters!

He swung his hammer with a ferocious cry and clubbed one of the winged gargoyles in the side of the head. He was more frustrated at the monsters having crashed their little party more than anything. He had been so excited to get the jump on them from above with this thing.

He didn't know they could fly. Before the fortress had even come into view, over a dozen flying creatures descended upon them.

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Isilya ​

 

[Isilya]

Isilya had been thrilled.

Flying—actually flying—was a marvel beyond anything she had ever dreamed of. The wind roared past her ears, and the ground stretched endlessly below, so far away it felt as though nothing could touch them. She had laughed, exhilarated, relishing the weightless freedom of it.

But then the sky darkened, and their fight began sooner than she'd anticipated.

Winged creatures, jagged and snarling, descended like vultures.

Her excitement had lasted all of five seconds.

Orders rang out, sharp and clear. She was already moving before they finished being spoken. Higher. She had to get higher.

Isilya vaulted up onto the rigging, her boots finding purchase with practiced ease, scaling the ship like she belonged there. One of the beasts tore past her, its claws outstretched, too close. She twisted away just in time, her grip tightening as it rushed by in a blur of shadow and leathery wings. Gods, what were these things?!

Three of their own had already been snatched from the deck, their screams cut short as their bodies plummeted.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, but her hands were steady as she pulled free her bow. Breathe. Her fingers found the fletching. She nocked an arrow, drew the string back to her cheek—

And loosed.

One.

The arrow buried itself deep into the throat of a creature mid-flight. It shrieked, spiraling down, its prey slipping from its grasp.

Another arrow. Faster.

Two.

A second beast collapsed, wings folding as it tumbled toward the earth below, another already rushing toward her, and another. Each one fell, and yet they kept coming..

She was going to need more arrows.