The Battle For Kantas - Val's Write Up - 17th Nov
Oct 18, 2017 16:30:44 GMT
Nowhere, Dorian, and 3 more like this
Post by The Sergeant / Alisha on Oct 18, 2017 16:30:44 GMT
The morning was crisp and light as Val began to strap on his armour. His sword and hammer leant against the wooden wall of his room, both buffed and oiled the night before, ready for the battle ahead. The crimson Half Plate, newly purchased from Nowhere, stood at the bottom of Val’s bed. With his leg guards tightened, Val went to fetch the Half Plate, but stopped at a sound outside.
In the road that his first floor room looked down onto, he could see a woman dressed in simple cream robes. The bottom of the robes were dotted with fresh mud. Her head bowed, hiding her face behind layers of soft red hair. From her lips a song, in a language Val didn’t know, filled the street. In front of her a man in his fifties knelt, his knee sinking into the cold morning mud. He wore chainmail, and held his helmet in his arms, as he too bowed his head. In the street others passed, all clad in armour, all walking the same direction. Hearing the sweet melody of the woman’s song, another man, younger than the first, also knelt.
Val opened the window and leant out, listening intently to the soft tones. Although he did not know the words, they filled him with hope and comfort. For a moment he was lost in song, and his mind ran through all he had seen in the Kantas, until it settled on the image of Moth in the claws of the Dragon. And then, without conscious thought, Val too knelt, alone in his room. He clasps his hands together, and for the first time in his life, he prayed. To whom or to what, he did not know. The song of the woman filled his soul, and he simply prayed. He prayed so hard his arms shook, and knuckles cracked and his eyes went wet. He prayed for those he now called his friends.
The army that left Kantas was lead by Captain Thundercog of the City Watch. Although a Gnome, he was respected by those throughout Kantas as a military mind. He looked back at those following him. City watch, and militia and adventurer marching together, a collection of races and experience. Some sang songs of glory, others spoke of loved ones, or of previous actions seen, while others were silent throughout the march.
By the time the gorge was in sight, the army of Daring Heights were flanked by the Erina on their left. The hedgehog people marched proudly, with Tarbin at the front. His armour was made of a thick bark, woven together with the craftsmanship the Erina were becoming famous for. Many of the warriors had painted their faces for battles, with stripes and patterns that would bring them honour and luck.
To the right flank, a different sight. The armies of Grung and Boli, the toad and frog peoples of the marshes. They created a form of cavalry, as they rode spiders, just had Val, Moth and Dran has seen many weeks ago. And new creatures had joined their ranks. Huge lizard-like beasts, almost akin to dragons without wings, some with razor teeth, others with a double row of kite plates lining their huge backs, and one with a long neck that rose up into the air like a tower. Thundercog nodded has his horse rode on.
By the time the two catapults at the back reached their final position, all the army was in place. One Dwarf, Borvek, who had been pushing, “this damn catapult, for a whole damn day and a half,” wiped the sweat from this head. He went to complain once again to the human in command of the siege equipment, but stopped as he looked up. A moment ago the sky was blue, with a few white clouds in the air. But within seconds, a dark haze filled the air, blocking the sun. Then Borvek heard the voice of Thundercog at the front, clear and commanding, “Lights. Lights I say.” Within seconds the priests who had accompanied the army spread up and down the ranks illuminating the area with a holy glow..
A yellow light shone from Rholor’s staff, who stood at the front of the line. To his right Val, and to his left Grimes. The three were silent, as they watched in front of them, as from the gorge the Twilight spewed. From across the bridge, and through the trees, and climbing out of the very gorge itself. Hundreds upon hundreds of Twilight. An Orc with two mouths, a set of conjoined Goblins, a Gnolls with its jaw missing, and a Twilight Giant with three arms were some of the sights Val saw in the first few seconds. Then it was too difficult to pick out the individual fiends as more and more poured forward, charging for their ranks.
As the two armies crashed, the colours of blood that stained the ground were both red and black. Within seconds arms were cleaved clean from bodies, hammers crushed skulls, fire ripped through fresh with the force of a spear, bodies were thrown in the air, and many, many lives were ended. With a tenth foe crushed in so many seconds, Val found a brief pause to take from his pouch a stone Nowhere had given him. He threw it hard at a one-eyed goblin ten feet in front of him. The stone pierced into the creature’s eye, burning a hole deep into the wet flesh, before the stone fell to the floor, smashing. A thunder went out, and in front of Val appeared a devil, with large horns, and crimson flesh, a long tale and a beard of hot embers. It looked to Val for a moment, its forked tongue licking the air.
“What is that,” Rholor called as his staff landed against the head of a six foot kobold.
“Fuck if I know,” Val called out, “A surprise from Nowhere.”
The two looked on as the devil began tearing a hole through the ranks of Twilight, it's claws and teeth sinking deep.
The fighting continued, and still more Twilight raced from the gorge, and lept into the ranks of Thundercog’s army. The Gnome watched as more and more of his men fell, a thunder of lightning on the right flank crashed onto a Twilight Giant, and a winged figure in the air who Thundercog recognised as Keladry dived down before soaring into the air once more. Within the constant fighting the clerics of the ranks kept their lights bright, healing the wounded and shouting words of encouragement. But for some the fiends were too many, as father and brother, and a few brave mothers were cut down, their blood soaking into the already wet ground.
Among the chaos of the ranks, a group of adventurers found each other by chance. Each with dents in their armour and weapons, each with many kills to their name. Some knew each other well. Others were strangers, but now bounded by a shared experience of this day in hell. For a moment there was a breath of peace, as Big smiled seeing the familiar face of Val, who was followed by two Paladins and the bearded devil who had drawn many stares, including that of Grimes. Rholor took a moment to wipe black blood from his staff.
High above, Keladry soared over the fighting, in her arms, a dwarf she had plucked from the back of the army, near the catapult. Without a thought she dropped him, and the dwarf known as Borvek fell. He died, not from the broken bones of the fall, but under the feet of foe and ally alike The air squeezed from him. His wife never knew how he died, but felt in her heart it was with honour.
As Keladry scanned for her next target, she smiled as she saw them crowded in a circle. Darkness filled the space where her soul once lay and she dived into the centre of a small group. As she did, the darkness within her clawed out, pushing sun and life away. A darkness that covered the adventurers like thick soot.
Rholor opened his eyes, “We’re not in Kantas anymore,” a whisper left his lips. The battle waged on, but for these souls, Keladry had captured them, sending them to another plane for a moment. Escape was impossible.
She stood tall, her wings outstretched, looking at her victims and smiling as specters appeared around her.
In the minutes that passes these brave souls fought for their existence, for their live, and for each other. A hail of hate hammered against each of them. Fear and doubt crossed each mind. But still they fought in this foreign plane.
Keladry’s long claws sank deep into the bear Big had become, before turning to Grimes and unleashing pain upon the Paladin. But she too felt pain, as hammer and sword crushed and slashed. Dark blood, darker than night, sprung from her cleaved body. Around her the specters circled and clashed with the fools she had trapped. Then, deep within her, the feeling of a dull cry stopped her for a moment. Keladry sensed a dark power wither and die within the Underdark. She turned looking toward the gorge, but instead saw a staff, radiant with holiness race through the air. The moment the staff split her skull open the specters and the plane vanished. The adventurers were back on the battlefield, and the body of Keladry lay broken at Rholor’s feet.
“For Moth,” The cleric panted.
The battle waged on. But with the Twilight general, and a deep power defeated within the Underdark, their numbers fell like paper figures in the wind. With the gorge empty, and cheers from every race in Kantas, Val lifted a small stone to his lips, “It is done.”
He waited, as the message passed through space, across the battlefield covered in corpses and soaking with puddles of blood, toward the gorge and deep down into the earth. Through stone, and into cracks and caverns the words flew, until the message reached the hand of Tiefling. Val’s voice reached Nowhere’s ears first as he stood deep underground. Dorian, Leocanto, Galen and Tugark too heard the familiar voice. The battle was won, and the long journey home awaited.
Val stood outside his home, his lower half wrapped in a towel, his chest still dripping, with a bucket of warm water, and a sponge as he continued to wipe the blood from himself. Next was his armour. Dents would need to be removed, and blood cleaned away. Then to clean and sharpen his weapons. His clothes soaked in another larger bucket, his second attempt to get them clean. The night was bright, as two figures came into view, Rholor and an older man, Val knew to be Dorian’s disguise. With them a large mug of ale,
“You survived then ‘Commander Val’.” Dorian’s voice called out.
“The mayor has summoned us tomorrow.” Rholor smiled, holding out the drink to Val.
“You think he’s going to make me the new King of Kantas?” Val raised his eyebrows.
The three figures laughed.
Later that night Val, now fully dressed, with Rholor and Dorian, and many of those who survived, drank late into the night. Some drank to forget, some drank to boast, some drank to relax. Others simply drank with those they now called their friends, and to remember those who were no longer with them.
In the road that his first floor room looked down onto, he could see a woman dressed in simple cream robes. The bottom of the robes were dotted with fresh mud. Her head bowed, hiding her face behind layers of soft red hair. From her lips a song, in a language Val didn’t know, filled the street. In front of her a man in his fifties knelt, his knee sinking into the cold morning mud. He wore chainmail, and held his helmet in his arms, as he too bowed his head. In the street others passed, all clad in armour, all walking the same direction. Hearing the sweet melody of the woman’s song, another man, younger than the first, also knelt.
Val opened the window and leant out, listening intently to the soft tones. Although he did not know the words, they filled him with hope and comfort. For a moment he was lost in song, and his mind ran through all he had seen in the Kantas, until it settled on the image of Moth in the claws of the Dragon. And then, without conscious thought, Val too knelt, alone in his room. He clasps his hands together, and for the first time in his life, he prayed. To whom or to what, he did not know. The song of the woman filled his soul, and he simply prayed. He prayed so hard his arms shook, and knuckles cracked and his eyes went wet. He prayed for those he now called his friends.
---
The army that left Kantas was lead by Captain Thundercog of the City Watch. Although a Gnome, he was respected by those throughout Kantas as a military mind. He looked back at those following him. City watch, and militia and adventurer marching together, a collection of races and experience. Some sang songs of glory, others spoke of loved ones, or of previous actions seen, while others were silent throughout the march.
By the time the gorge was in sight, the army of Daring Heights were flanked by the Erina on their left. The hedgehog people marched proudly, with Tarbin at the front. His armour was made of a thick bark, woven together with the craftsmanship the Erina were becoming famous for. Many of the warriors had painted their faces for battles, with stripes and patterns that would bring them honour and luck.
To the right flank, a different sight. The armies of Grung and Boli, the toad and frog peoples of the marshes. They created a form of cavalry, as they rode spiders, just had Val, Moth and Dran has seen many weeks ago. And new creatures had joined their ranks. Huge lizard-like beasts, almost akin to dragons without wings, some with razor teeth, others with a double row of kite plates lining their huge backs, and one with a long neck that rose up into the air like a tower. Thundercog nodded has his horse rode on.
By the time the two catapults at the back reached their final position, all the army was in place. One Dwarf, Borvek, who had been pushing, “this damn catapult, for a whole damn day and a half,” wiped the sweat from this head. He went to complain once again to the human in command of the siege equipment, but stopped as he looked up. A moment ago the sky was blue, with a few white clouds in the air. But within seconds, a dark haze filled the air, blocking the sun. Then Borvek heard the voice of Thundercog at the front, clear and commanding, “Lights. Lights I say.” Within seconds the priests who had accompanied the army spread up and down the ranks illuminating the area with a holy glow..
A yellow light shone from Rholor’s staff, who stood at the front of the line. To his right Val, and to his left Grimes. The three were silent, as they watched in front of them, as from the gorge the Twilight spewed. From across the bridge, and through the trees, and climbing out of the very gorge itself. Hundreds upon hundreds of Twilight. An Orc with two mouths, a set of conjoined Goblins, a Gnolls with its jaw missing, and a Twilight Giant with three arms were some of the sights Val saw in the first few seconds. Then it was too difficult to pick out the individual fiends as more and more poured forward, charging for their ranks.
As the two armies crashed, the colours of blood that stained the ground were both red and black. Within seconds arms were cleaved clean from bodies, hammers crushed skulls, fire ripped through fresh with the force of a spear, bodies were thrown in the air, and many, many lives were ended. With a tenth foe crushed in so many seconds, Val found a brief pause to take from his pouch a stone Nowhere had given him. He threw it hard at a one-eyed goblin ten feet in front of him. The stone pierced into the creature’s eye, burning a hole deep into the wet flesh, before the stone fell to the floor, smashing. A thunder went out, and in front of Val appeared a devil, with large horns, and crimson flesh, a long tale and a beard of hot embers. It looked to Val for a moment, its forked tongue licking the air.
“What is that,” Rholor called as his staff landed against the head of a six foot kobold.
“Fuck if I know,” Val called out, “A surprise from Nowhere.”
The two looked on as the devil began tearing a hole through the ranks of Twilight, it's claws and teeth sinking deep.
The fighting continued, and still more Twilight raced from the gorge, and lept into the ranks of Thundercog’s army. The Gnome watched as more and more of his men fell, a thunder of lightning on the right flank crashed onto a Twilight Giant, and a winged figure in the air who Thundercog recognised as Keladry dived down before soaring into the air once more. Within the constant fighting the clerics of the ranks kept their lights bright, healing the wounded and shouting words of encouragement. But for some the fiends were too many, as father and brother, and a few brave mothers were cut down, their blood soaking into the already wet ground.
Among the chaos of the ranks, a group of adventurers found each other by chance. Each with dents in their armour and weapons, each with many kills to their name. Some knew each other well. Others were strangers, but now bounded by a shared experience of this day in hell. For a moment there was a breath of peace, as Big smiled seeing the familiar face of Val, who was followed by two Paladins and the bearded devil who had drawn many stares, including that of Grimes. Rholor took a moment to wipe black blood from his staff.
High above, Keladry soared over the fighting, in her arms, a dwarf she had plucked from the back of the army, near the catapult. Without a thought she dropped him, and the dwarf known as Borvek fell. He died, not from the broken bones of the fall, but under the feet of foe and ally alike The air squeezed from him. His wife never knew how he died, but felt in her heart it was with honour.
As Keladry scanned for her next target, she smiled as she saw them crowded in a circle. Darkness filled the space where her soul once lay and she dived into the centre of a small group. As she did, the darkness within her clawed out, pushing sun and life away. A darkness that covered the adventurers like thick soot.
Rholor opened his eyes, “We’re not in Kantas anymore,” a whisper left his lips. The battle waged on, but for these souls, Keladry had captured them, sending them to another plane for a moment. Escape was impossible.
She stood tall, her wings outstretched, looking at her victims and smiling as specters appeared around her.
In the minutes that passes these brave souls fought for their existence, for their live, and for each other. A hail of hate hammered against each of them. Fear and doubt crossed each mind. But still they fought in this foreign plane.
Keladry’s long claws sank deep into the bear Big had become, before turning to Grimes and unleashing pain upon the Paladin. But she too felt pain, as hammer and sword crushed and slashed. Dark blood, darker than night, sprung from her cleaved body. Around her the specters circled and clashed with the fools she had trapped. Then, deep within her, the feeling of a dull cry stopped her for a moment. Keladry sensed a dark power wither and die within the Underdark. She turned looking toward the gorge, but instead saw a staff, radiant with holiness race through the air. The moment the staff split her skull open the specters and the plane vanished. The adventurers were back on the battlefield, and the body of Keladry lay broken at Rholor’s feet.
“For Moth,” The cleric panted.
The battle waged on. But with the Twilight general, and a deep power defeated within the Underdark, their numbers fell like paper figures in the wind. With the gorge empty, and cheers from every race in Kantas, Val lifted a small stone to his lips, “It is done.”
He waited, as the message passed through space, across the battlefield covered in corpses and soaking with puddles of blood, toward the gorge and deep down into the earth. Through stone, and into cracks and caverns the words flew, until the message reached the hand of Tiefling. Val’s voice reached Nowhere’s ears first as he stood deep underground. Dorian, Leocanto, Galen and Tugark too heard the familiar voice. The battle was won, and the long journey home awaited.
---
Val stood outside his home, his lower half wrapped in a towel, his chest still dripping, with a bucket of warm water, and a sponge as he continued to wipe the blood from himself. Next was his armour. Dents would need to be removed, and blood cleaned away. Then to clean and sharpen his weapons. His clothes soaked in another larger bucket, his second attempt to get them clean. The night was bright, as two figures came into view, Rholor and an older man, Val knew to be Dorian’s disguise. With them a large mug of ale,
“You survived then ‘Commander Val’.” Dorian’s voice called out.
“The mayor has summoned us tomorrow.” Rholor smiled, holding out the drink to Val.
“You think he’s going to make me the new King of Kantas?” Val raised his eyebrows.
The three figures laughed.
Later that night Val, now fully dressed, with Rholor and Dorian, and many of those who survived, drank late into the night. Some drank to forget, some drank to boast, some drank to relax. Others simply drank with those they now called their friends, and to remember those who were no longer with them.
