An RP in the World of Avernum *Reloaded*

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AuthorTopic: An RP in the World of Avernum *Reloaded*
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Demetrius paced his study, lost in indecision. The crystals from Ernest's hut had arrived at Golddale, but he still wasn't sure whether or not to send them through the mines to the College. He needed them for his defense plan if the Anama and Looters moved south, yet there were no reports of them moving south from Softport. If the negotiations with Upper Avernum went sour, he would have to send them to the College, to see if he could get to the lower caves with a portal. He frowned. What he needed was a Far Scry pool; more information was needed. Of course, that also required crystals... In the meantime, he would have to depend on couriers and pigeons.

The situation with the Isles was becoming interesting. Murmurs of autonomy were rising up. Let them have the useless Isles, thought Demetrius. He had accepted that a navy was out of the question. He had decided to move the bulk of his forces out of the Isles; if they really wanted them, he couldn't stop them. Besides, there were bigger fish in the ocean. A few discreet eyes and ears wouldn't hurt, nor would having a ready defense plan for Libras and Storm Port.

Demetrius paused again. More rival factions on his borders. By now the Dominion guards were fully established, and were defending Redmark College and its environs. The other cities under his control worried him. He doubted a spy could get within sight of the College, but one could easily slip in the outlying cities. Time to start using the schools in Libras and Storm Port, as well as those under construction in Squiggus and Lennus. When the citizens discovered how vital the inner strength of the Dominion was, they would serve to protect it from rot, from those who seemed suspicious.

He decided to keep the crystals where they were for the time being. No use acting without information.

EDIT: The Isle situation had been solved; move along, there's nothing to see here.

[ Tuesday, March 28, 2006 10:06: Message edited by: Dintiradan ]
Posts: 1509 | Registered: Tuesday, January 10 2006 08:00
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On behalf of GoldenKing:

Contact made. Forces in Upper. Can speak to leader. Am suspicious.

Tygra fed the slip of ciphered paper to the lamp flame. It had arrived by pigeon from Fort Emergence this morning. The note was just a heads-up, a more detailed courier report was probably on its way. He shook his head. The last thing he needed right now was enemies from below.

Last night, he had travelled to the shipyards of Krizsan. What he had found wasn't promising. Ships was an exaggeration; just a few fisherboats and merchant ships that were seized. His navy wouldn't be ready for a long, long time yet. Still, he had commanded the little ships he had to patrol the seas from Bojar's tower to Colchis. They wouldn't be able to stop any attack by a long shot, but he might have some warning. He needed his sailors in training to do something.

His efforts with troops were going better. A large number of able-bodied men had joined the camps outside of the major cities, and were under the training of the original Hunters. Living in the bread-basket of Valorim helped a lot as well; one of the main reasons men joined the army was the sure promise of food on the table in these turbulent times.


Bors leaned back on his chair in the room his delegation had been given. The meeting had gone better than he had feared, but worse than he had hoped. Alexandria and her magi were in the next room, ready to depart for the Portal Fortress the next day. He wished that the Hunter's only interest in the area was trade. There was no hope of allying with this Samuels, the man seemed to simmer on the inside with hostility. He had been surprised that the Hunters had been allowed a garrison in Fort Emergence. And suspicious, as well. Why would any man who hates the surface forces that much give them a foothold in the underworld? No matter. His men were returning to the fort the next day. Let Nyrulia ponder over the dealings. He was done with this mission; these caves made him uneasy. How can they live without the sun?

I really had planned to have ship patrols around Krizsan. Please don't think that I'm doing this in reaction to your post, GoldenKing wanted me to train a navy, despite how long it would take.

EDIT: I'm assuming the ship you ran into was TM's, the Hunter's patrols don't reach out that far yet.

[ Wednesday, March 29, 2006 12:43: Message edited by: Dintiradan ]
Posts: 1509 | Registered: Tuesday, January 10 2006 08:00
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While Night was falling, the five spies were on their way. Each of them was so far by now, that they could just see the camp in the dark.


Gernas, Sergris and Hralek were heading north together. The cloaks kept them warm in the cold wind. Being a ssilent as a Nephil can be, they ran onwards in the dark night.They were now at the bridge leading to Moon. The water in the river was sparkling and looked very refreshing, but they ran on. It was not wise to make Marnal angry, certainly not when dealing with the "objectives." Mernal was a fanatic. He was a good and thoughtfull leader, but he could make your life damn hard when angry.

They walked for an other two hours, and started reaching a ruined sort of fort, known as the draigoth ruins. It was not a very safe place to be, so the three Nephilim walked onward. After an otger half out, they were at the mountains marking the border between pralgrad and Valorim.

While Gernas and Hralek continued on these mountains, Sergris went to the west, as he had to spie on this man calling himself the "seeker of knowledge."


gernas and Hralek were in the mountains now. It was called and dark, but thanks to the good Nephilim eyes, they mamaneged to to slip on one of the slippery stones that were all over these mountains. Hralek suddenly stopped after a 45 minute journey. Gernas truned around as to ask what he wanted to say, but the moment he opened his mouth, Hralek whispered:

"Silence! Look!"

Hralek pointed at a very faint light, which only Nephilim would be able to see from that far without the use of magic.

"I wonder if these are the goblins I had to spie on. I do hope so, my feet are hurting as hell!"

Gernas, listening to his complaints, whispered back:

"Silence and stop complaining! We mustn't let ourselves get caught, and certainly because of your feet. We have to move on, or Mernal will be quite angry."

"But shouldn't we first report back to him? He gave us that scroll remember? He also said that, the moment we found out something usefull, albeit only a bit usefull, we had to report to him."

gernas sat and thought.

"Yes, you're right. We shall do it now."

He took the paper out of his cloak's pocket, and started writing on it with a branch:

Gernas writing this letter

Probably found Goblins. Not in near proximity of "Seeker of knowledge." That is all.

Gernas put away the paper and the branch.

"I hope this will be enough. now we must move on."

The two nephilim didn't stand up. Instead, they sort of walked onwards in a sort of bent fashion.


In the meantime Sergris walked on his own, onward, along the fields at the vale, surrounded by the mountains. The other two had immediatly ascended the mountains, but he had to be in a different place. After all, he had to get to that historian's tower, and the other two the goblins and the other continent.

After about an hour's walk, he finnaly reached the other side of the rather large vale. He ascended the mountains, and started on his journey, while he held is cloak tight to his body. It was a cold, windy night, and although nephilim have a fur, they can still catch a cold.

he was now in the near vicinity of Wyvern pass. From where he was, he could already see the lights of this small town. He approached it cautiously, though there wern't any really big things happening. In half an hour he had hiked across the small town, and could see the faint lights of a tower-like building.

The historian's house.

(OOC: I'll tell about the other two tomorrow)

Play and rate my scenarios:

Where the rivers meet
View my upcoming scenario: The Nephil Search: Escape.

Give us your drek!
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A day had passed since the deaths of the two young apprentices. Master Krynt had taken the blow personally, and confined himself to his quarters on the upper level of the fortress. Acrio had finished his dealings with the Guild and they were taken by ship to the western outpost. It was unclear whether they had accepted the offer and Acrio refused to speak of the arrangements with anyone. The silence in his chamber was broken as Denrich walked through the door.

"We have a problem Sulfi." The old wizard spoke softly.

"We have many problems my friend. What good would it do to add to the list."

"This is a matter of more pressing concern. We are running out of food. Even with the enchantments over the garden, we are still not managing to grow enough. If we begin rationing now, we may manage to stockpile enough resources for another month; however, at the current rate we have about two weeks of food left."

"The last thing we can afford to do is begin rationing food. It could start a panic. Rather, I think it is time that we made dealings with those around us."


"The Guild agents were kind enough to inform me of two factions who control a substantial portion of these caves. The Knights of Old Avernum dwell mostly in the Great Cave, and you can imagine where the Abyss Knights live. For our purposes I think it would be best to avoid the Abyss Knights until we learn what happened to the magi that we lost in that region. Therefore you will go as an envoy to the Great Cave and see if you can negotiate some sort of trade."

"What do we have to offer them?"

"A foothold in the Eastern Gallery."

"But we have none, save a small outpost in the lake."

"Not yet, but I have already planned a trip to Fort Dranlon. I'll be leaving within the hour, as will you. Master Krynt will be in charge while we are gone. He will not allow his guilt to cloud his judgement."

Both men then went to their separater quarters to begin preparing.

Lt. Sullust
Cogito Ergo Sum
Posts: 2462 | Registered: Wednesday, October 3 2001 07:00
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The fleet that sailed towards Krizsan was quite a few ships larger now. Drale was quite happy that these Guildmen, Rubicante and Cagnazzo, had agreed to assist them. And he was even happier that the Guild's intelligence reports showed that the Hunters had no ships at all! Why, this was almost too easy!

Still, he must stick to the plan. When they were within sight of Krizsan, he would break his last signalling crystal to let his forces in Softport know to charge at Sharimik and Gidrik. With the Anama's blessings and their horses, they would ride fast. The attack would likely distract the Dominion, for this purpose, Drale wasted no time on anti-scrying measures.
It was much later in the day when the watchman spotted Krizsan, but Drale's spirits had not sunk one bit. They had encountered a few puny fishing ships on the way. Drale didn't know or care whether they were Hunter patrols: a good fireball sunk each one. The ordinary people down here were so brainwashed by Dominion propaganda that they were as hostile to him as the enemy, anyway.

And now their prize was within reach. He could see the beginnings of a shipyard off the coast, but there were no servicable warships. Platoons of soldiers guarded the roads, but not as many guarded the docks. Their ruse would keep them from being fired upon until they were relatively close, and then all hell would break loose.

Drale lifted his fist and smashed the crystal. His men would ride for Sharimik. And he would ride for a much greater prize.

OOC: TM, you can do the attack of Krizsan if you like, and I could do the one on Sharimik. Or I could do both. Whatever you like.

But I don't want to ride the elevator.
Posts: 420 | Registered: Sunday, January 8 2006 08:00
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An awesome sight to behold. The whole building was set with its back to the rock face, a lone tower on top of the citadel, overlooking the canyon. A narrow path wound up along the mountain side, passing over numerous small bridges where crevices in the craggy rock broke the path, and a long narrow bridge right across the canyon. A fortress could not have been better protected, nor more reclusive. - The traveler Daryl Mycroft, on arriving at the Keepers' halls for the first time.

Falko grew calmer at the sight of the tower's beacons shining in the night. They had walked most of the afternoon to get back from the northern passes, looking over the shoulders the whole time expecting a goblin charge at any moment. These critters do not travel alone. She had rarely been more relieved to walk across the bridge and remember the defenses that protected the library from threats: The greedy adventurer seeking magic, the tyrannous emperor expunging the ancient records.

"It is but a matter of time till we are overrun," Orson darkly commented as if reading her mind. "Humans would break on this place like waves on a cliff, but the advance of the goblins is unwavering. Our only hope is that they will pass us by to concentrate their attacks on the lands south of here."

"Not if they know the value of magic," Falko reminded him. The words of the unconscious goblin over her shoulder - we kill wif iron, we kill wif magic - still haunted her. Goblins talking? Goblins practicing magic? It was all wrong!

Gobrak stirred slightly, but did not speak. orson had been right - he was in an advanced state of stupor; Falko had not needed to punch him again.

As they entered the front gate, their captive drew the gaze of dozens of curious guardsmen. It is not exactly common that we take prisoners here, she remembered. It was not exactly common that so many patrols were sent to guard the northern passes, either. Tension was in the air, the calm before a storm.

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Outside of Krizsan. Drale looked confused. "A bookmark? What do you mean?" Guido shook his head and gave the Looters' leader a small brooch with a glowing speck of light in the far corner. "This. When our agents infiltrated the Looters' hideout, they placed a bookmark in the magical tome. A contingency plan. Apparently, since this thing seems to be working now, it's pretty close. Anyway, Rubicante wishes you luck in getting the tome." Drale seemed flabbergasted. "Excuse me? You mean, you won't be joining us?" Guido shook his head. "My men are sailors. Even if they had feet on land, they still won't be able to keep up with you, and they won't be much help fighting trained guards. Anyway. Best of luck."

Drale called his men out of hiding as they burst into the port of Krizsan. The city guard was expecting this- the fireballs and heavy guns shot were an indicator of a pirate attack, as the Hunters had neither magi nor cannons. Unfortunately, the city guard, being incredibly unfamiliar with urban combat, tried to flood into the harbor from the entrance gates.

Boom! The Looters began to fire off their wands, incinerating the tightly-packed guards. Fireballs and ice shards tore through their opponents like dominoes. "Too easy," Drale said. He began to march triumphantly towards the capitol building, under which the book lay, as his forces hacked up stragglers. As the other sloops landed, a few groups of adventurers lept out. The strongest-looking shouted, "We're here to cover you. You'll lead the offensive, but we're here to make sure that you don't get bitten in the rear."

A pause. "Oh, and Sir Drale: Refrain from killing innocents unless they attack you first."

With that, chaos began breaking out in the city as citizens fled to their houses and guards began pouring in from all angles.


Outside Krizsan. "Goddamnit- the messenger was right! The city's harbor is burning! It's an attack. Have the pirates made their move?" Commander Lyonard was marching east on Krizsan, but now his troops began jogging in a semi-formation towards the city. They had already joined forces from a group from Delan attempting to gain entrance. Presumably, Colchis and Silvar had also sent their troops.

Lyonard made it to the city gates where the Captain of the Guard was anxiously awaiting them. Lyonard reached the Captain. "Commander! It's good to see you, but how did you know to come at such a crucial time?"

A pregnant pause. Lyonard said, "Your messengers summoned the excess guard of the cities, correct?" The Captain was still confused. "No, sir... Why?"

Lyonard had to make a decision. If this news was given by a rival army, they would presumably be marching on the Hunters' other cities during the attack. On the other hand, to abandon Krizsan during its time of need would be a far worse proposal.

"! We're moving in, but try not to get killed. This may be a long night."


(FYI, no armies have been spotted near any of the Hunters' cities yet- just that Lyonard strongly suspects otherwise.)

Posts: 6936 | Registered: Tuesday, September 18 2001 07:00
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A merchant ship sailed into the docks of Sharimik. Anama sailors manned the deck and Captain Keelfast, respected member of the Enlightened Anama captained the ship, but the sails were plain white, and the flag of the merchant’s guild flew from the ship’s mast. No one would know the Anama had come to Sharimik this night. And no one would know the Church’s tie to its dark cargo.

At the docks one of O’Leary’s men checked the ship, he had been told who to look for, “Who goes there?” A man in black robes descended, and behind him several sailors carried casks.

“The Asp has come to Sharimik, where is your Lord?”

The sentry looked relieved, he had been waiting on edge all night for a visitor to identify himself as “the Asp”. After all this they were only bringing wine for O’Leary! Saving the good stuff for himself like usual…. “I’ll escort you.”
That night, guards of Sharimik wearing robes to cover the sigil of house O’Leary emptied casks into the cities wells. The same scene was carried out in every outlying village of O’Learys holdings.
O’Leary sat in his office worrying. Worrying and glancing nervously at this robed man the Anama had sent to him. “So…. Will this kill them?”

The man looked up, “The sick and weak will suffer considerably, and most likely die. The hardier serfs will be very uncomfortable for a while. They will be begging for the Anama to intervene by the end of the week.”

O’Leary put his head between his hands, “I only did what I had to, I only did what I had to……” he kept repeating to himself. He couldn’t wait for the week to be over.
OoC- Damn it Wonko, no attacking Sharimik!!!!!!!! Its not even Dominion holdings, and I don’t see how attacking a city days ride north of Kriszan effects things in any way but to ruin my plans!!!!!

Guaranteed to blow your mind.

Frostbite: Get It While It's...... Hot?
Posts: 900 | Registered: Monday, August 8 2005 07:00
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On behalf of GoldenKing:

At the first sign of combat, Tygra sprang into action. Not to grab his weapons and armour; he was no longer a mere bandit. He turned to the officer who had given him the report. "Tell the men they aren't rabble. Remind them of what they have been training for every since the last raid. Remember: crossbowmen and pikemen with the towershields on the ground, and archers to snipe from the rooftops. Tell the ranged fighters to aim for the wand-wielders. Now go!" He whirled and spoke to the man on his left. "Send pigeons to all the cities. Tell them the situation, and to defend themselves against any other armies that might be around." He paused for a moment, then continued. "Send another to Redmark College. I greatly doubt the wizards will be able to respond in time to aid us, but the sooner the counterattack, the better." He spun around to the man on his right. "Send out town criers. Rally the townspeople. Get them to arm themselves in any way possible, then get them to move into the harbour district." Time to test these pirates' mettle. He pointed to one of his guards, and began moving down a corridor. "You, come with me. I have an important task for you..."

EDIT: These lines have served their purpose, so I have retroactively causes them to change.
(Hums RW theme music.)

[ Tuesday, March 28, 2006 19:21: Message edited by: Dintiradan ]
Posts: 1509 | Registered: Tuesday, January 10 2006 08:00
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Cult lands Headquarters of the Cult of Grah-Hoth.

Xivuth, Alaran, and Az-ossath are clustered in the former's dwelling.

Az-ossath: "Az-Ossath and I have finished our scry of the astral plane, my Lord. As we suspected, the Abyss Knights have the scepter."

Xivuth: "So there is no doubt?"

Az-ossath: "None. An artifact that powerful is unmistakable."

Xivuth: "Where have they taken it?"

Az-ossath: "Somewhere near Bargha. We cannot determine its precise location from this far away."

Alaran: "I do not understand. Why would the infidels go to such lengths for a scepter they have no idea how to use?"

Az-ossath: "Value, mainly. They'll keep it until they can find a buyer."

Alaran snorts. "They'll be hanging onto it for a while, then."

Xivuth: "We must recover the scepter. It is integral to our project."

Az-ossath: "First we must find it. And to find it, I must get closer to it."

Xivuth meditates on this for a moment, and slowly begins to smile. "Both of you, get out your fancy clothes. We're going on vacation."

The two lesser mages look at each other, confused. "Vacation, my lord?"

"To Bargha. And while their, we shall beat the thieves at their own game."

The Empire Always Loses: More fun than a kick in the shins!
Posts: 567 | Registered: Friday, October 5 2001 07:00
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? ? ?.

The man stood ten feet tall- at least, if you could call it a man- with thick armor made of bones and obsidian obscuring the vast majority of his figure. Its skin seemed to glow a dull yet lurid red, with the light creeping out of the cracks in its armor. It held two scythes, each one as taller than most men.

Then, in an instant, a red flash erupted from within the armor and a force of pressure swept dust and pebbles away from it. Satsujin had to protect his eyes from dust with the arm of his robe.

"Why... I am summoned. Who are you. Why am I summoned."

The being spoke in a dry, ephemeral, raspy monotone. Satsujin pointed to his right. "I am Satsujin. You are Scarmiglione, and I have a task for you."

Scarmiglione shifted his weight from one shoulder to the next. Then, he took a good look at Satsujin, his red, glowing and beady eyes only barely visible from within his greathelm. "You... You are old. I remember you." Satsujin shrugged. "You are an older being at this point. If you recognize my power signature, I am not surprised. Anyway, your task is to serve me."

The giant shook its head. "If you obtained me from Rubicante, you could have merely hired some lesser members of the Guild." Satsujin shook his head. "No, Scar. You--"
"My name is not 'Scar.' I demand respect."
"Fine. Scarmiglione. Anyway, I do need your strength. There is an artifact inside of a lair deep down in this mountain that I want you to recover."

Scarmiglione walked slowly towards a gaping crevasse in the ground nearby. What he saw caused him to flinch. "This is...!"
Satsujin clasped his hands together. "So, you remember this place? I had heard rumors, but... No, this confirms them. You-- you were the sole survivor of the mission the Guild was given to investigate these ruins fifty years ago. And look at how it has changed you." Scarmiglione pointed a scythe at Satsujin. "Who are you? Who are you, really?"

Satsujin took both black gloves off of his hands, revealing not hands, but paws. He lifted the black hood off of his head and the veil off of his face, revealing a mottled, reddish-orange fur coat with bleak, grey eyes. "I have come back for something my master left when he followed Olindbar the great traitor out of this world. You will retrieve for me an item called the 'Red Beacon.' It is an intricately carved ruby roughly as large as a human head. You will recognize it immediately, as the demon activity you are all too familiar with seems to be centering around it."

Still staring deep into the pit out of one corner of his eyes while glaring at Satsujin from the other corner, Scarmiglione let his scythe fall. "So. The scrolls I retrieved... They were simply phase one in your plan?" Satsujin smiles, baring his fangs. "This is the next step. I will follow in my master's steps." Scarmiglione turned towards him, confused. "You will leave this world?" Satsujin waved his left hand, sweeping Scarmiglione's imaginary suggestion off of the proverbial table. "I am not going to leave this world."

Or so you think. But for what you did to me, you shall, Scarmiglione thought to himself.

"I will be waiting. You have your task, now do it."

With that, Scarmiglione lept into the demonic fumerole, under miles of which laid a large and ancient ruin. Satsujin turned back from the cave against a reassuring backdrop of the sound of demons perishing. Oh, but Scar... How do you not see it? Your ignorance is a load off of my mind.

(EDIT: Goldenking, response on the OOC thread.)

[ Tuesday, March 28, 2006 19:02: Message edited by: Rubicante ]

Posts: 6936 | Registered: Tuesday, September 18 2001 07:00
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(Apologies for the double-post: I want to keep both posts distinct since the subject matters are so massively different. Anyway, I essentially gave you the land around the harbor, but I don't want you wiping out the Looters- a conflict between Drale and Tygra would be nice. You or Wonko can continue the fighting in the city itself if you want.)


Outside of Krizsan. The townspeople with assorted guards begin filing into the harbor. Guido looks on them with bemusement. "They seem to want to oust us from their harbor- very well. Come on, boys- let's get out of arrow range."

The pirate ships began pulling out of the harbor. The untrained peasantry began cheering and sending their weapons into the air in a celebratory manner. Then, the ships turned to their sides. The peasants were confused.

And then, the first volley. The walls of the harbor began to buckle, and a great deal of peasants were killed by the cannons themselves. That the pirates' archers had a height advantage didn't help things. Most of the remaining peasants fled out of the harbor before the pirates' fire caused the supports to fall and the roof to collapse. "Child's play," a contented Guido remarked. "Keep firing. They don't have the capacity to take our ships or board them- our range of fire is essentially taken territory."

Suddenly, an arrow from out of nowhere pierced Guido's shoulder. "Aaaugh! Crap! Snipers!" Guido managed to stumble into his lower decks before the archer could fire another shot. "Crap! Those bastards came prepared, alright. Someone get me a telescope." Guido peeked out of one cannon slot and found the sniper. "There! Don't bother shooting at the archer, get the building! It's wood, it'll fold like a house of cards." The cannons took another shot at the multi-story house. Guido said a little prayer that the inhabitants had already evacuated as the cannonballs broke the structure like a twig, causing the sniper to be crushed by both the fall and random logs pounding him as he fell.

"Damnit! And now, they'll be expecting this tactic. Come on, get more people out here! Help me spot out any snipers. At this point, snipers in our range will likely be aiming for Drale as much as us. We have to help him get that book out of Tygra's hands!"

Suddenly, he saw something interesting. A group of mixed peasants and soldiers were running towardrs the harbor. They stopped shortly before the ruins of the harbor. Then, three peasants carrying bottles of booze ran past the ruins. "What are they... Damnit! That's a--"

Grenades. The peasants launched their volleys at one of the sloops closer to the harbor. The explosions didn't damage the hulls as much as Guido had feared, yet the real shocker was how far back the sloop was flung. The soldiers rejoiced until another sloop used their cannons to blast the peasants into a red pulp. The swoop regained its balance, but Guido could already see the soldiers reading another group of peasants.

"Damn! Someone push some of these cannons out of the way. That damned sloop had better back the hell up. Get these slots filled with archers, and aim for the peasants." Archers readied their bows and took out some of the soldiers and peasants, causing them to retreat a bit. Then, an arrow tore through one of the archers' skulls. "Crap! Why aren't we taking care of those goddamned snipers?"

Much to Guido's great fortune, the sloop closest to the makeshift grenadiers began pulling out of their immediate range. The other sloop fired a round of cannons, causing the stone building to tumble a bit and collapse with a satisfying "crunch!" Then, more sniper rounds began to hit some of his archers. "What? Those arrows are facing upwards... No! Were the grenades a distraction technique? There are snipers in the harbor's rubble. Someone figure out where that arrow came from and send some iron in that bastard's direction!"

So far, apart from a few coastal buildings razed, Guido was having less success than he had anticipated.


"Ghh... I have to give the pirates this much," a frustrated Lyonard said. "They're persistent, and almost as ruthless as we are. Did we manage to get some snipers planted? If we can do that, we can limit how close to the shores they can get."

The Captain of the Guard piped up. "What about flaming arrows, sir?" But Lyonard shook his head. "Their frigates and sloops have sails, but they're also rowboats. Plus, if you look at the effect the grenades had, it's clear that they used wax or some other fire-retardant substance on their hulls. Any word from Master Tygra?"

One of the soldiers spoke. "Well, yes, sir... He actually wants the snipers to devote their time on stopping the mysterious raiders who are headed in a b-line towards the capitol." Lyonard spat. "We're running out of the snipers we have. And fast. But I don't want the pirates to send their reinforcements. In these close quarters, even their small numbers might wreak havoc. Say, can you do me a favor?"
"Make your way to the capitol and tell Tygra or any other officer there that we've managed to keep the pirates off of the shores for now, but we don't expect this to continue for very long."

The soldier ran off, using the mostly empty alleyways and vacant streets in the city to avoid the chaos of the fighting. Then, he came up to a completely vacant intersection, in the center of which was a well. There were four soldiers surrounding it, each one acting shadier than the next. One of them pointed at the soldier, and another pointed his two fingers at the soldier. The poor lad barely had time to turn around before a Wound spell cut a gaping hole in his chest. For good measure, the sapper cast another Wound spell.

Posts: 6936 | Registered: Tuesday, September 18 2001 07:00
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Profile #187
Bargha. The council is assembled around an iron table; Boleslaw, wearing the black crown of grandmaster, looks intensely bored with the proceedings, and only pays attention when directly mentioned. The masters seem to be winding down their lively discussion.

A man in chain armor with meticulously groomed red hair leans back a little and grunts. "So what our new ward reports is an undead threat, eh? My men can take the undead. Some of them have fought them before." His accent is like Xao's, but far stronger; his skin does not have the characteristic paleness of a born Avernite.

Thissa, as usual wearing his black plate armor, clears his throat audibly. "We feel that preparing the entire army for fighting the undead would be foolhardy. Raocosic, it would be best if you were to scour your ranks for those with experience; we only have so much equipment to go around. Speaking of which, Rhys - have you contacted a friendly church yet?"

A slight man with blond hair, wearing a bow and light, black armor, nods. "Yes. The servants of the Divine Lucre have agreed to give us a substantial discount, along with a couple of free crates of disruptive bolts, in exchange for a two-year pact. I've made a chart of which routes this will affect; for the most part, they've unwittingly signed into security routes which we can no longer profitably assault anyway.

Xao smiles. "Excellent. Raocosic, would you object to my taking control of the security force when it is formed?"

Raocosic ruminates for a moment. "No. It'll probably involve a lot more skulking around than is my style. I'll need to have a look at the general command to form a good unit with the available troops, though. Not just my own."

"Your Potency?"

"What, Thissa?" Boleslaw looks almost as if he's been awoken from sleep.

"Do you approve of Raocosic's extended power?" He leads his sovereign to yes with his voice.

Boleslaw makes a big show of pretending to weigh the options in his head. (That tends to stop after a couple of weeks, but no matter.) "Yes. Do what you must to bring glory and treasure to the Knights."

Raocosic cracks a wide grin. "Outstanding."

Rhys taps the table with his pen. "Oh, Thissa - I can't believe I nearly forgot. You know the artifacts we found?"


"Many are quite valuable; one, a small dirk, was the personal sidearm of the Imperial commander here during the invasion. Seems to be near-vorpal, and worth its weight in distilled power."

"What of the artifact our defector took with him?"

Rhys clears his throat. "Uh. See, that's a different story. The Onyx Scepter is priceless, but of obscure interest. Our buyers have expressed a fascination, but at the same time an unwillingness to purchase."

There passes a silence. "Well, we'll have to keep on looking. We'll find a buyer eventually, I'm sure."

[ Tuesday, March 28, 2006 19:52: Message edited by: The Worst Man Ever ]
Posts: 794 | Registered: Tuesday, October 11 2005 07:00
Member # 6670
Profile Homepage #188
On behalf of GoldenKing:

"Get those shields back up! Up, you honourless dogs!" Sergeant Cappas roared. The men quickly raised the tower shields again. "If the bowmen don't have cover while they're reloading, they're sitting ducks! C'mon you girls! You're not going to stop a charge with those pikes in every direction." Cappas sighed. These green recruits really were doing their best. He just hadn't suspected using them so soon. Still, they had done well, considering. A few broken charges made the enemy fear the pikemen, and ranged combat with tower shields as cover was an art they were beginning to master. If only it wasn't for those bloody men with wands! Around the corner marched a group of men. One raised a wand. "Crossbows, fi-"

The world erupted in flame.


"Gather as many guards as you can find in two minutes, then meet me at the chamber at the end of the hall," Tygra told the man who accompanied him as he left the library, a large book in his hand. Alone, he stode into the chamber. Trophies from his victories these past months filled it, but he paid them no heed. He walked to a corner of the room, and carefully placed both feet on one tile. In this crack here, and then a little push here... He shifted his feet to another tile. Pull the one in this crack, back to the first one, then push back and down... The wall slid downwards, revealing an ornate black chest. His brows drew down in concentration. The ruby first, then the emerald, then a push on the center of the design, then the emerald again... Finally, the chest unlocked safely. Tygra opened it and stared for a moment at the book within. When his mages found the beacon, they had advised moving it to another city to protect Krizsan. He had disagreed; any other city would have fallen to the assault Krizsan was weathering. Disposing of the bookmark was out of the question. He couldn't use the magic on everyone, and having your capital city attacked was justification enough to wage war. He carefully took the tome out of the chest - there were traps on the inside as well - and placed it under his arms. The book he had taken from the library was put in the chest, along with that intriguing bookmark.

Resetting the traps took much quicker. As he finished, a large group of guards returned. Tygra turned around. "Gentlemen, I entrust you with this artifact. The survival of the Hunters depends on its safety. Leave the building, find a group of fighters to aid you, and leave Krizsan. Be carefully, the chest is trapped." The men nodded and left him, running. Tygra gave them half an hour, tops. Hopefully, by the time the raiders discovered how to unlock the chest, they would be far from Krizsan. He left the room to find a good place to hide the tome, shaking his head. In the future, he would have to find another copy of The Tearing of the Bodice.

A nice IC solution. I'll let you control Lyonard.

Basically, other than the peasants in the harbour, the city streets are held with the pike/crossbow/tower shield combination.
Posts: 1509 | Registered: Tuesday, January 10 2006 08:00
Law Bringer
Member # 4153
Profile Homepage #189

Brother Yewbark squinted into the morning sun as he stepped off the ship into Woodsmuir's harbor. As he scanned the nearby buildings, he found that he couldn't see anybody. There was just one ship still floating in the city's harbor, and two others had mostly sunken, showing extensive fire damage. It was unusual, to say the least.

He had visited Woodsmuir repeatedly before the assassination of Imperial Governor Brechil, and had spoken with the governor several times on behalf of the Order. Not an overly-friendly man, but he hadn't deserved such a fate. And now, Brother Yewbark led the party sent by the Council through the apparently-deserted streets of the late Brechil's realm.

"Alright everyone, looks like it's clear. Eiric, Helnum, and Irthis, you'll keep your squads on board the ship, so that we can be guaranteed a safe escape. I'll take the rest into the city, and hopefully we'll reach the old Imperial mansion without trouble," Yewbark yelled to the assortment of guards.

So what've we got here... he thought, scanning the faces of his charges one last time. He had a few nephil archers from Tanan, some Order warriors and priests, a Numindian mage, a couple of Skarrifisk sliths, and an assortment of soldiers from Laessos, Ona, Eos, and Sipan. In total, they numbered about seventy, leaving thirty to defend the ship.

The druid led the party into the city, clutching his oaken staff in a readied position. Should aggressors appear, he would not hesitate to smite them.


Brother Clearwater stood yet again before the Council, unrolling another scroll from Sister Elmleaf and reading it aloud.

"The prisoners have mostly recovered, though three of them refuse to come to terms with the acts they have committed. I've given them comfortable robes, a room in the priests' quarters, and nice warm tea. It's really all I can do.

"The others have come to terms with their actions, and are split between wanting to return to their families in Valorim, and wishing to stay here, away from the Hunters.

"They have told us all that they know, and it appears that the leader of the Hunters, one Tygra, keeps his lower-level soldiers relatively in the dark of their greater plans. We have only learned that the faction has attempted to gain a foothold in Upper Avernum.

"I am currently advising that they stay on Krell until we can be certain of the herb's potency. As informers, they are fairly useless, and should we return them to Valorim, they will surely be charmed by Tygra again. As for long-term action, I am at a loss for what to do."

Brother Clearwater rolled up the scroll, and set it on the Council table. "So, what shall we do with them?"

The Ouracason emissary, an ex-Empire soldier named Joaquin, spoke first. She smiled grimly as she did so. "Turn them loose back in Valorim, they mean nothing to us."

The slith representing Skarrifisk, an old male named Ethoss, retorted, "But they know of our location, and they will simply be brainwashed again! We cannot risk our peace by returning them yet. And I refuse to betray the location of my island, family, and self to a bunch of filthy Valoran racists!"

Hmirra, the femal nephil of Tanan, seconded this idea. "Our priority should be the mainland, not with the return of some cold-blooded murderers to their homeland!"

Brother Clearwater had to shout to restore order. "Calm yourselves! It is clear that we cannot risk the prisoners turning informant when they return to Valorim, so we will have to detain them here. As for their families, I think there is little we can do until the Hunters have been dealt with. I think we can probably rehabilitate these soldiers, and I will send them to the training halls at Feldspar to this end. Are there any objections?"

"Yes," growled the emissary from Trobi. Known as Yarosk, he had rallied for war at every opportunity. "I still think we should send troops to Valorim, so that we can eradicate this Hunter scum!"

Another argument erupted, and Clearwater sighed, seating himself by the windows and watching the fireworks break out.


Brother Yewbark was getting a little worried. They'd walked through five city blocks, and had encountered nobody. From what he could tell, fires had ravaged much of the city at some point since the assassination, but it was difficult to tell exactly when. He could remember seeing smoke over the horizon a day after the revolution, but had never guessed that this much damage had been done.

So the ship that reached Isidar must've been scavenging for supplies... Yewbark thought, noting a thoroughly burned market off to the party's left. How can this king maintain any sort of rule when the city is so devastated?

The sound of snapping planks off to his right caused the druid to wheel around and scan the area. There was definitely a figure standing atop a roof.

"Hail, friend!" Yewbark yelled. No answer came forth. The druid continued, undeterred. "We have come from Krell to speak with King Accis!"

After a moment of quiet unease (Yewbark's soldiers were readying for a fight, and their actions were transparently obvious), a few more figures appeared atop the roof, and they drew bows.

A soldier in the back of the group yelled out and fell to the ground with a thud. Yewbark turned to see more archers lining the path back to the harbor. "Retreat to the ship!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

A soldier slung the wounded man over his shoulder, and the retreat began, Brother Yewbark shouting out spells over the din.

Gamble with Gaea, and she eats your dice.

I hate undead. I really, really, really, really hate undead. With a passion.
Posts: 4130 | Registered: Friday, March 26 2004 08:00
Member # 5450
Profile Homepage #190
Approx. five leagues to the east of Solaria: Captain Spencish, Riner's second-in-command, was out with a scouting party. It had been a dull morning, and he was looking forward to getting back to Solaria.

Jalcom, one of the smarter soldiers that Spencish commanded, came up to him with some possibly exciting news.

Saluting first, he said, 'Sir, we have chanced upon sighting a person, or large animal, in the distance. We are keeping an eye on him, and will let you know if we have any developments.'

'Wait, I'll go with you,' Spencish replied, half eager for something to do other than sitting on the ground.

Together, they carefully crept along to a larger tree than where they were at. It took a while, but eventually the creature, who Spencish identified as a nephil, came within bow shot. For some reason it wasn't as careful and stealthy as Spencish had read about.

Captain Spencish sent out some scouts to flank out around the nephil, and trap him.

Watching from his spot, Spencish saw the scouts sneak up and throw a net on the (seemingly) asleep nephil.

'Bring him in, boys!' Spencish shouted.

Once the nephil had been rather ungraciously dumped on the ground, Spencish got a good look at his features. It was small and nimble looking, like he had read. But there was one thing that stood out on him: The nephil had a strange symbol on its forearm, kind of like a 'w'. Once it woke up, it started snarling and striking at the net. The Captain ended the scouting hike there: replacements would have been coming soon anyway.



Where the bloody hell have I seen it?

That is what Riner kept thinking.

He was busy writing a letter to The Order of Kaz, to the south, but the locket kept crossing his mind. Blocking it out, however, he focused on the tasked at hand: He wanted an alliance with the faction to help fight off the increasing nephil population that was moving west from the Jsoulza mountains.

So far, his letter read:

To whom it may concern,

Greetings to the Order of Kaz. I am Riner, leader of the Solaria Group, which is situated to the north. I am writing this letter to you as an invitaion to join myself and my supporters in an alliance, to help ward of the Nephil threat to the east.

You do not have to accept, or even reply to this message, but I would just like you to know that we are not against you.

Kind regards,
Riner and the Solaria Group.

Finishing happily, Riner went to bed.


He was woken up late in the morning by one of his guards.

'Sir,' they said, 'Captain Spencish has a prisoner. A nehpil was sighted about five leagues to the east; we captured him and we are bringing him back now.'

'Fair dinkum? Good. I'll talk to him once I have fed myself up.'

Hopefully the day can keep getting better, Riner thought to himself dryly.

Before he ate, he sent a soldier on a fast horse to deliver the letter, and went to talk to the nephil, who had arrived by the time he had ate his breakfast.

[ Thursday, March 30, 2006 20:26: Message edited by: Spring ]

I'll put a Spring in your step.
Posts: 2396 | Registered: Saturday, January 29 2005 08:00
For Carnage, Apply Within
Member # 95
Profile #191
Bargha, the eastern outskirts. Two men leading a lizard-drawn covered wagon approach the city.

"My Lord Xivuth, you know I would never question your wisdom, but are you absolutely certain this is the will of the Exiled?"

"Absolutely certain, Az-ossath. Why?"

The slith mage adjusts his bright orange leotard nervously. "Oh, no reason."

* * *

They approach the gates, and a guard stops them. "Just what the hell are you lot?"

Az-ossath: "Well, we're certainly not here to drown you infidels in a cleansing fire!"

". . .what?"

Thinkly quickly, Xivuth punches Az-ossath in the gut, and answers for him. "He said, we're a travelling circus! Don't ye have ears, ye, uh, bilgerat? Y'arr!"

Guard: ". . . a travelling circus."

Xivuth: "Aye!"

From the back of the cart, a female voice cries out. "Eek! I can't wear this in public!"

"Alaran ye shut yer gab or I'll make ye the bearded lady! Um, me bucko, toot toot. Now, mister guard, where were we?"

Guard: "I was just getting to say that you don't look like much of a circus."

Xivuth: "Not much of a circus! Can you believe your ears, Thysser?"

A confused silence follows. "I said, can you, Thysser, the world's strongest slith, believe your ears?"

Az-ossath catches on. "Oh! Of courssse I, Thysssser, cannot, for I have no earsss!" He and Xivuth erupt into forced laughter. "And even if I did, I ssstill wouldn't believe them! Do you know why, my good man?"

Guard: "Um. . ."

Az-ossath: "It's becaaaausssssse. . ." At his signal, a dozen cultists in elaborate and colorful costumes leap out of the wagon. As Az-ossath's grossly exagerrated hiss rises, a juggling nephil and a diminutive ogre dance around him in a circle. Alaran, wearing barely anything, stands on the cart-lizard's back. Xivuth produces a cane and top hat seemingly out of thin air. Just when the slith is starting to turn blue, the performers break into song.

"We're the perfectly harmless circus!
We're here only to give you some fun!
We certainly won't steal anything!
We're leaving as soon as we're done!"

"We've got acts from near and far-a," sings Xivuth, "fun for the big and the small!"

"And now we've come to Bargha," adds Az-ossath, "with no ulterior motives at all!"

"We're the perfectly harmless circus!
Not the kind you interrogate!
We only live to make you laugh,
So let us through the gate!"

The nephil: "We'rrrrre perforrrrmers through and through."
Alaran: "We've clearly got nothing to hide." *wink*
The ogre: "We just want to put on a show for you,"
Xivuth: "But we can't 'til you let us by!"

"We're the perfectly harmless circus!
We know we can make you grin!
This isn't some fiendishly clever trick,
So why don't you let us in?"

The singers finish in a dramatic pose, while the guard looks on blankly. After a tense moment, he smiles.

"All right, get on in. And maybe," he adds, leering at Alaran, "we can have a private performance after."

"Sure thing, sugar," she says sweetly, while the carnival troupe hurries past. Whispering, she adds, "or maybe when the nine Hells freeze over." Soon the whole group is safely past the gate.

Az-ossath: *blink* "I refuse to believe that worked."

Xivuth: "It's the grace of the Chained One. Now hurry up and locate the Scepter."

[ Tuesday, March 28, 2006 22:02: Message edited by: Spartacus was Nathan Ashby ]

The Empire Always Loses: More fun than a kick in the shins!
Posts: 567 | Registered: Friday, October 5 2001 07:00
Member # 6388
Profile #192
Bargha. The council, still convened, is going over insignificant matters.

A messenger bursts into the room, waking Boleslaw - who was generously allowed to sleep.

"Sirs, we've received word of a circus troupe entering the city."

The masters look at one another incredulously. Boleslaw cracks a smile. "A circus, eh? Interesting. Any indication what they're like?"

Thissa interrupts him. "It's a trap. There's no reason for there to be a circus in town; even if it isn't, it's a waste of our bloody ti--"

Boleslaw shoots him a nasty look. "Listen, armor boy, I'm the god-damn Grandmaster. Don't interrupt me. That's first of all. Second, I want to hear what this circus is like. Now, before I was so rudely interrupted, you were saying?"

"I saw it myself, sir. There was a little ogre and the world's strongest slith and a singing nephil and a woman."

Boleslaw's eyebrows poke up. "A woman, eh? How is she?"

The messenger tilts his head from side to side. "Eh. A little chubby, your potency. And I think she has a unibrow."

Boleslaw looks momentarily crestfallen.

"But she's wearing next to nothing."

The grandmaster's flagging spirits rise again. Thissa growls.
"Damn it, Boleslaw, you know you could get any woman in the corps in bed with you, and if you really mind the odd scar we could always pay for a whore."

The messenger, unhelpfully, continues. "And they were singing, too! Pretty well. Something about not being a demon cult bent on thievery and revenge."

"Not being a demon cult bent on thievery and revenge? Hmm. That's a good sign."

Thissa chimes in. "No, your potency. Nothing about that is a good sign."

Boleslaw turns to face his mailed advisor. "Can you sing, Thissa?"

"I could."

"Then why don't you?"

Thissa clears his throat and elbows Xao, who, sighing, begins to sing a background melody.

"We're a nation of brigands and spies,
We trick everyone for trickery's sake!
And yet even we can clearly see
This circus is a fake!"

"Their strongman is built like a wire,
Their stripper is built like a rock,
And if that's what raises your fire,
We'll get a cave cow to sit on --"

Boleslaw cuts them off at a remarkably opportune moment for the intrepid narrator. "All right, that's enough. Neither of you can carry a tune. And for God's sake, there's six of you; you could at least have had the courtesy to form some kind of barber-shop quartet or something. Unless anyone else has any objections, invite the circus to my court."

Thissa looks desperately to Raocosic.

"You realize how few opportunities, however slim, a man gets to kick the ass of someone who calls himself the world's strongest something or rather?"

To Rhys.

"Saves us the expense of a prostitute."

To Xao.

"Well, I, for one, would like to see a midget ogre."

The messenger blurts out, "And their leader had a top hat and a cane, too! Real circus-y."

Thissa grumbles angrily. "Fine. I can do nothing to stop your will, Your Potency."
Posts: 794 | Registered: Tuesday, October 11 2005 07:00
Member # 5977
Profile Homepage #193
Continuation of spies' journey

Fralsrik and moternij were to go south. Mernal had heard of powerful factions there needing a spie. not a spie for them to use, but a spie against them, somebody who could tell Mernal what was going on. these spies were they.


After a two hour walk they started to get close to mountains and a city. The town nephilim looked at each other, and then at the city.


Fralsrik took out a small folded map out of his cloaks' pocket, and folded it open. he looked at it, and pointe at a town, just north of a mountain range.

"Yes, that's Malloc all right. its a pity we don't have a map, but from here it looks like a nice plays to stop by."

"What! Are you insane! if we get caught mernal will kill us!"

Fralsrik responded:

"what? Do you seriously think we will get caught?"

he shook his head, and slapped Moternij on the shoulder.

"Oh, you poor little kitten. Are you afraid? Don't want any adventure? a-boo-ba-boo-ba-boo..."

"Oh stop it," Moterneij responded, agitated. "Alright then, lets see if we can nick a nice little chicken."

Fralsrik grinned, and they approached the city. It was not very big. The inn was on their side, so it was supposed to be easy to get into the inn, get some food, and then proceed to their destination.

Slowly and silently, the two nephilim walked to the inn, bent forward, as to stay low. They stopped when they reached the inn's west wall, and very carefully, they looked through at a window.

"Dammit!" Moternij whispered. "Its full there! how are we supposed to get in then!?"

"This way," Fralsrik whispered, and pointed to the northern corner of the inn. There seemed to be a small crack in the wall.

Silently they walked to it, and pushed aside some of the wooden planks, so they could enter. they were in a dark room. After getting used to the dark surroundings, they started seeing everything quite clearly again. they were in a store room. crates, barrels and closed boxes and closets were aligned along the wall. Moternij went to one of the closets and opened it.


"You fool! You complete idiot!"

fralsrik pulled Moternij away from the closet, while moternij was still holding the doorhandle of the closetdoor. they closet opened, and was stacked with small potions. Energy and healing potions it seemed. The two nephilim looked stunned at the closet.

"Forget the chicken!" Fralsrik said.

he took off his cloak, and asked Moternij to help him dump the potions in his cloak. they would use it as a bag. However, while they were emptying the closet, the locket door was unlocked, and the innkeeper, together with the guards, ran into the room. they looked at the two strugling nephilim.

"Thiefs!" is what the innkeeper shouted, when she saw two nephilim emptying her precious closet of potions.

The Nephilim finnaly noticed her being there. Moternij quickly took out his dagger, and threw it to one of the guards. Direct hit. the guard lay inconscious on the floor, with a armor that was now painted red, which was a pity, as he had just polished his iron armor, so it would shine brightly in the light of the candles.

the two nephilim now took th cloak filled with potions, and threw it outside, through the opening in the wall. they quickly went after it, which didn't take long. nephilim are cats, and cats are very supple. the guard managed to shout "Come back", but for the rest didn't do anything special.

While the two nephilim ran across the fields, an half an hour later approached the mountain ranges close to Lorelei and Softport, the Innkeeper had sent a pigeon with an angry letter to Sharimik, in which she stated that there had to be done something about the banditry in valorim.

"So..." Moternij said, "what are we going to do with the potions?"

Fralsrik sat down and thought.

"We bring it to Mernal, or even better, but let it be brought to Mernal."

He ran into the bushes, and after a short struggle, came with a horse-like creature waking in front of him. He bound the cloak filled with the potions on its back put a smalll note in it directed at Mernal, gave the creature a slap on his behind, and it ran away.

"now we should continue on out journey."


It was early in the morning when mernal heard the steps of a horse nearing the camp. he quickly stood up, and already saw that some guards were alerted and pointed at a shadow neariung them from the south-south-east. they didn't shoot it though, as there wasn't any person o it. just a horse with a big sack on its back.

It eventually came to a halt when mernal had asked one of the guards to shoot it with an arrow. it hit the horse, and the guards started dragging the horse into the camp, where the cook was already sharpening his knives. Mernal appraoched the horse, took the sack of its back, and opened it.

Stunned. Amazed. it was full of energy and healing potions! He found a note too:

Your spies, Fralsrik and moternij, offer you this delicious breakfast and a sack of usefull supplies. Don't ask where we got it please.

Mernal read it and threw it away behind his back.

"Mages! Priests! It is time for a treat!"

OOC: Lazarus, did you already read that PM I sent you? I'd like to know about the alliance, so my army can finnaly start moving.

[ Thursday, March 30, 2006 01:46: Message edited by: Mc 'mini' Thralni ]

Play and rate my scenarios:

Where the rivers meet
View my upcoming scenario: The Nephil Search: Escape.

Give us your drek!
Posts: 3029 | Registered: Saturday, June 18 2005 07:00
Member # 6652
Profile #194
OCC: Oops, sorry Lazarus. Didn't know you had plans for Sharimik. I'll stop the attack.


EDIT: Obsoleted by TM.

[ Wednesday, March 29, 2006 15:27: Message edited by: Wonko The Sane ]

But I don't want to ride the elevator.
Posts: 420 | Registered: Sunday, January 8 2006 08:00
Member # 65
Profile Homepage #195
--At Temple--

The temple was suprisingly clean of skeletons of any kinds. Although that it turn lead to nastier questions. They did however find some intriguing frescos.
They all showed happily smiling humans flogging, bashing, cutting, kicking etc. other humans-who were smiling as well.

"...What the?" Harris breathed staring at smiling figures "Just what kind of church was this anyway? Order of Sado-mascochist?"

One of the acolytes who was analysing the art with interest suddenly murmured "I think I recall something about this in the Gebra town records archives-a few centuries back-there was cult in the area called 'The Sassy Punch of Pain' or something."

Gripping his halberd tighter Harris glared into the shadows "Would they have been involved in raising of the dead or anything?"

"The records didn't saying anything like that. They were monks and the lived her until some adventurers drove them out."

"Hmmph adventurers would've cleared this place out. There probably isn't anything left of value anymore."

"I don't think so sir" a voice rang out near the altar. It was the other acolyte "Would Brother Jamid come here please?"
The brother strode over "What is it Alket?" She was practically dancing with glee.
"Can't you feel the divine energy coming from the altar?"
Jamid concentrated, then he felt it. The altar didn't have the metallic tang of corrupted blood nor was there any active holy spirit present.
It was neutral energy, that could be turned to anyone's use.

It was Jamid's turn to get excited "That means we can invoke our gods to anchor themselves to this place! We would have so much better access to the divine energy."
"One of the higher priests should be sent here at once Sir," Sister Alket turned to Harris grinning ernestly "This is too great an oppurtunity to miss."

"Send a message to Wavespeaker Kelas at one to come here at once!" Harris barked and motioned to one of his soldiers.

"Sarg! One of our teams discovered a hidden room while clearing the area," An archer announced as he ran inside.

"Did they find anything?"

"Yeah, they said big books-"

"Books! They didn't touch them did they?!" "Those books are hundreds of years old!" Both acolytes shrieked waving their arms about.

"We don't go against orders. We were told not touch anything before it was inspected. Curses and all that."

"Show us where you found them," Alket commanded, marching in front.

Presently they came back their faces full of awe.

"They seem to be prayer books Sir," they spoke in hushed tones "With holy incantations."

Priests always like new spells just like mages although they'd never admit it.

Jamid drew the symbol of the Holy Wavewalkers of his brows "The Wavewalkers-our gods brought us here," he whispered.

The more devout of the troops sketched the sign too. Truly, it seemed that their own gods had brought them here.

--Early Evening-Gebra--

It was beginning to become dusk when Wavespeaker Kelas recieved a message via a trained Sea Gull. Reading the letter his eyes widened and within a few minutes he was in a boat heading towards the Temple.

-- Temple (Later)--
The ritual to bind an altar to a god (or gods) was draining yet the end result was worth it.
"Wavewalkers, I summon thee!" the final line of the ritual spoken, Kelas fell to his knees only to be supported by Jamid and Alket.

Blearily his eyes searched the altar looking for any sign that they had answered his call. Then electric blue light surrounded the altar and all present could here the roar of the sea waves and smell salt spray.

"The Wavewalkers...they accept this place as their own."

A spontanous celebration occured.

--Garne (After Temple events)--
Irnai put down her message a runner had sent her. Truely, the gods were among them again.

Closing her eyes she whispered-"Thankyou for heeding my plea, Welku."

-- Mrrsa's Quarters --

Mrrsa had learnt the news soon after Irnai. She definately wanted to see those books, it was time her woefully neglected cleric skills had some work.

[ Wednesday, March 29, 2006 03:24: Message edited by: *Milla ]

Milla-Displacer Beastie

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Posts: 650 | Registered: Thursday, October 4 2001 07:00
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Profile Homepage #196
Fort Emergance Bridge

Samuels leant back in his chair, his meeting concluded. Bors seemed suspicious of the garrison he was being allowed. Fortunately, he hadn't twigged on that his troops were to be a meatshield from more hostile factions on the surface - Upper Avernum was more secure than it had been before, even with surface-worlders on the doorstep.

He ran his face over his hand - the only problem was that he'd had to let a delegation go down to the caves below, wasting valuable energy. As well as that, she would potentially mess up his diplomacy missions in the caves. He didn't want the KOA making friends with Empire scum, after all.

Still, there was no guarantee that they would make a return journey. He pulled a sheet of paper towards him, and scribbled down on it.

Alexandria, surface-worlder. Be careful not to let her die in a portal accident.

- Samuels

That would deal with that, and one less surface-worlder to fight would make all the difference.

Suddenly, their came a tapping at the door.


The door opened. Morgain entered, red in the face from her long march from the portal.

"I have good news..."


The 2,000 men from Avernum were separated almost immediately upon reaching New Cotra, in order to weaken any potential uprising they ight decide to through. 1,000 marched straight down to Fort Emergence, to bolster the forces already there, and to relieve Samuels' best men. Another 500 headed north for New Formello, and the caves surrounding it. Finally, the last quarter were marching to the edge of Western Upper Avernum. Samuels had left them under the command of an old soldier, Captain Jones. Morgain had been sent back to the Portal Fort with the surface folk, carrying with her the letter Samuels had written just before she entered.

The 500 troops under Jones' command had been outfitted in iron armour and metal weapons, plundered from the old bandit fort south of Ghikra. The host were mainly warriors, with a smattering of archers. No magic users, save for a few priests were present.

Jones marched to the front of them and called their halt.

"We need to turn north here, Ghikra isn't far."

He called at them to resume, and continued marching alongside the leaders.

The white walls of Ghikra loomed out of the perpetual twilight.

And when you want to Live
How do you start?
Where do you go?
Who do you need to know?

*Name by Slarty
Posts: 2864 | Registered: Monday, September 8 2003 07:00
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Member # 6489
Profile Homepage #197
Lartaynior pondered the message he had just received. It had arrived via lizardback courier from Blosk. Can these "Disciples of Khoth really provide me with a foothold in the Eastern Gallery? If so, they will be a welcome ally. I suppose it doesn't hurt to see.

He reached into the desk and pulled out a piece of parchment, dipped his quill in ink, and composed his reply.

Dear sir:

We will be quite pleased to provide you with as much mushroom meal and salted lizard as you need in return for this foothold in the Eastern Gallery that you speak of. I am afraid that I am woefully out of touch with that section of the caves. When last I heard, a small group of soldiers were fighting the Vahnatai there. Do you have more recent news? If so, information about the situation in the Eastern Gallery would be most welcome.

Fondest regards,
Lartaynior, King of Avernum

After writing this missive, he called the courier and sent him on his way. Allies are springing up left and right. I just hope that this is not a mistake.

[ Wednesday, March 29, 2006 05:23: Message edited by: Tyranicus ]

"You're drinking liquor because you're thirsty? How nasty is your freaking water?" —Lazarus
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Denrich was never much of an optimist. He hadn't expected to recieve any word from the king for several days. When the courier returned so soon, he imagined that their offer had been refused. The letter lifted his mood a little, but one problem remained, they still didn't have much of a stake in the Eastern Gallery to offer. He quickly scribbled down a note for the courier to return to the king and went on his way.

Lord Lartaynior,

I find your message very encouraging. I will personally take your response to Acrio Sulfi. Expect to hear back from us within the coming days.


Fort Dranlon
It took surprisingly little time for Acrio to reach Fort Dranlon. However, what he found was very discouraging. All signs pointed to the abandonment of the fort sometime after the initial rebellion. From there bandits took apart the crumbling walls of the place piece by piece to build their own outposts. All that remained were a few magical barriers which now served no purpose and a single obelisk at the center.
As Sulfi walked closer to the obelisk he felt a strange power eminating from it. He noticed that the surface was covered in several runes; unfortunately, none of them were familiar to him. Near the middle was an indent in the shape of a human hand.

"Spread out and examine the rest of the ruins. Come to me immediately if you find anything interesting. Also, stay away from the barriers. At this point they are extremely weak and it is very likely that they could collapse. Such a release of energy would pose a serious threat to an unprepared apprentice." Acrio ordered several of the younger mages who accompanied him. As the apprentices set off, Acrio walked around the perimeter and laid down small incantations so that he would be alerted if they were crossed during their stay.

Lt. Sullust
Cogito Ergo Sum
Posts: 2462 | Registered: Wednesday, October 3 2001 07:00
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Profile Homepage #199
On behalf of GoldenKing:

Tygra returned the chaotic command room. An officer ran up to him and quickly saluted. "Sir, it seems the main enemy forces are retreating to the harbour area again." Tygra smiled. Finally, some good news. Either the raiders had found the chest, or had run out of charges for their magical items. "Also, sir, we've pulled most of the forces out of the harbour. The damage we can do against those ships is negligible compared to the devastation their cannons can cause."

Tygra nodded. "Good call. Send men out to hinder the retreat, but don't directly oppose them." No use sending more men into the meatgrinder. "Do anything: set up triplines, barricades, use your imagination. As they are slowed down, use the bowmen."

Another soldier came up. "Sir, we're getting reports of reinforcements from Delan, Colchis, and Silvar."

Tygra paused. This changed things. "Leave the main routes to the harbour open." He told the first man. "Tell the reinforcements to corral the enemy to the harbour. Once they are both in there, tell them to charge and fight hand-to-hand. Hopefully, the ships will stop using cannons, and we can set up the snipers in the harbour again." Both men left.
Posts: 1509 | Registered: Tuesday, January 10 2006 08:00