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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"... and it seems to have an entropic effect on the flux, thus causing the flow to disintegrate."

"Good work," Demetrius told the researcher. "This shows promise. I think..." A man came into the room and handed him a small letter, sealed with blue wax.

Demetrius frowned. "Excuse me," he said, and left the room. The blue wax said that the message was relayed by a Far Speak crystal, and likely urgent. These messages were to be given to him personally, no matter the time of day. He popped it open, and frowned again. The message should have been written in cipher, but wasn't. Smoke and fire from Krizsan; can see from Colchis was all the message said. This changed things. He looked up and spoke to the messenger. "Summon Archmage Tychius from his bedchamber, and tell him to go to my personal chambers immediately." He would have preferred leaving with Diego, but he was an Avernite, and would have no skill in what needed to be done.


Demetrius paused over the letter. Take the crystals into the cleft you found, and secure the area. He sealed it, and handed the letter to the waiting courier. "Take this to Agent Celeste in Golddale in all haste. Go through the mines." The man left, and almost immediately Tychius entered, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Ah, good evening, Tychius," Demetrius said, smiling. "I believe that Krizsan is under attack." That woke the man up. "The calm before the storm has ended. Now, it is our job to ensure that the storm begins. Prepare yourself and your strongest students for a journey. We have a job to do near Golddale."
Posts: 1509 | Registered: Tuesday, January 10 2006 08:00
Raven v. Writing Desk
Member # 261
Profile Homepage #201
Trust a giant from as far away as he can throw. Trust a nephil from as far away as he can shoot. Trust a slith from as far away as he can aim a fireball. But never, never trust a human -- until he is a mangy corpse!

-- The Great Authoritative Extra Great Guide to Killing, Slaying, Butchering, and Otherwise Disemboweling Humans

Kappa didn't worry when Gobrak was first reported missing. Goblins wandered off all the time when they were marching, let alone while glugging. But when the evening began and his entire brigade hadn't been able to find him, Kappa grew concerned. He put twenty of his best warriors on alert.

Later in the night, one of them claimed he saw something dart between two boulders. Kappa wasn't taking any chances, so he sent the warriors to fan out around the area. They came back a half hour later, surrounding another, taller figure. A nephil!

"Kappa Kappa, sir! This is Hralek. There was another one, but he scampered off before we could grab him."

The nephil spoke quietly. "Hrrnrr. Greetings to you, goblin Kappa. I bear you no ill."

Kappa scratched his head. "We do not bear any ill or any ill to the nephilim. Goblins! Leave us some space."

When the others had left, he grilled Hralek about what he was doing there and what had happened to Gobrak. Hralek, of course, knew nothing about Gobrak. But he told Kappa that they were "scouts" from the great army of the nephilim, and, when pressed, he told Kappa about the "seeker of knowledge" whose "house" was by the strait.

Kappa bowed his head, then raised it again. "I cannot see any reason of distrust. But I must be sure." He blew a bubble with his saliva. "I will send to our leader, the Great Goblin, words of hospitality on riders for you, and for your fellow scouts. But in return you must stay with me until we have dealt with this 'seeker of knowledge.'"

Hralek made growling noises, but he nodded his agreement. He really had no choice in the matter.

The following morning, Kappa left his main force with Gobfried and took a small deployment of mages and warriors with him and Hralek to look for the seeker's house. Since Hralek did not know where it was, they spent most of the next day wandering around the beaches and the cliffs by the sea, looking for a house, before they discovered what they were really looking for.

[Aran: your turn. Gobubary/Kaz, Gilgamegob/RR, and Glooramza/Kaz later today if I have time and energy.]

Slarty vs. DeskDesk vs. SlartyTimeline of ErmarianG4 Strategy Central
Posts: 3560 | Registered: Wednesday, November 7 2001 08:00
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Profile Homepage #202
Outside of Krizsan. Guido looked anxiously as a soldier began running valiantly past the ruins of the harbor with a grenade in hand. "Is he going to try this again? But why one soldier?"

Then, the soldier turned towards his rank and hurled the grenade at them, maiming many. Tossing his uniform off, he dived into the water. "Quickly! Gun down the soldiers so that their bowmen can't nail our man in the water!" The pirates sent some errant shots, some taking out a swath or two of advancing soldiers. Then, the agent reached the side of Guido's ship and climbed aboard using a rope ladder. A few errant arrows found their way to the ship's deck, but none of them hit their intented target. The spy leapt down the hatch.

"Quickly! Shoot out a flare!" Guido look at this man confusedly. "Who are you--"
"I'm from the Guild. I was overhearing the action in the capitol building, when I heard Tygra order the tome out of the city with a small team."

Guido punched a nearby column, causing the ship to sway mildly. "Damnit! We'll have their hides!" The adventurer shook his head. "Listen, we don't have time to waste! They were ordered to go outside of the city. I couldn't have killed them all, but I tracked them to the city gates. They're headed north, presumably to get away from the coast. Anyway, we need to shoot forth flares immediately!" Guido shook his head. "No, not happening. But our flagship in this area, a Six-Rate named Firefly, should be able to intercept them."

A few arrows hit the hull of the ship. Some hit cannons and bounced off or went inside harmlessly. "Damnit! Why have we stopped striking them?" More of the cannons sent a barrage into the coast. "We need to keep the path from here to the capitol clear, do you understand? In fact, raze any buildings near the coast! Until we can see their armies that are pestering us, we won't be able to guarantee an exit route."


The cannons began focussing less and less on troops and more and more on buildings. Lyonard was shocked to see one of his divisions of men get crushed by rubble. "Damnit! These pirates aren't fooling!" He turned to the soldier who had effectively become his aide. "Do we have any snipers left?" The aide shook his head. "Not really. Actually, from what I hear, neither does anyone else. When you consider both the wands and the cannons..."
"Enough. Anyway, it looks as if their guns are turning in this direction. Let's get back to the capitol for now."


"Hey! Who's that!" Drale spotted what appeared to be a Hunters soldier running towards the party. His men readied their wands, but one of the accompanying Guild members stuck his arm out, motioning them back. "Hey," cried the Guild member, "what news do you have?"
"Well, a few things. The book was apparently taken once Tygra was aware of the attack. But we've tracked them down. The pirates should already be notified, and some of our men should be keeping a close watch on the bookbearers."

Drale cussed. "You mean, the book isn't here? What a waste of time!" But the Guild member to his side chuckled. "Relax. We have a contingency plan. At any rate, we seem to be holding out for now. But," referring to the messenger, "continue."

"Yes, well. Apparently, the enemy forces were preparing to corral us into the ruins of the harbor, but it looks like Guido has been going off of the deep end. He has been weasling out enemy forces hiding in streets by obliterating any and all coastal buildings. Master Rubicante might not approve of this wanton tactic, but it has effectively purged the route from here to the coast. Now..."


"Sir! Lyonard! The enemy!" The aide was wasting his breath. Lyonard saw the enemy. But from this distance, what was he going to do? He had already spent the last few minutes evading pirate cannon fire, and he was still technically in range. If he revealed his position now, all of his work would be for naught. Suddenly, one of the black-clad men fired an errant ice spray in their direction, injuring nobody.

"Crap! Everyone, retreat! Get out!" Fortunately, Lyonard's orders got to his men before Guido's saw the spray of ice. As the pirates tore down another building, Lyonard had only barely successfully escaped. The mercantile frigate and two sloops were nearing the shore. Some archers began taking out some of the black-clothed men, but very few. Soon, planks were lowered, and the army had been forced back too far to take advantage of the situation.

"The enemy has retreated! I want you twenty to search the city for any stragglers. The rest of you, come with me! We're headed towards the capitol."

In the back of his mind, Lyonard was thinking. "If this was a distraction technique to get our armies into Krizsan to leave our other cities vulnerable, then why actually attack Krizsan? And if they are attacking our other cities, after the losses we've taken, we'd be no match to take them on even if we could get back on time. If any cities get taken over, it's inevitable now. The biggest priority is not allowing Krizsan to fall: Master Tygra will have a difficult time as it is trying to restore confidence after this devastating raid. But none of this explains what happened... If we as reinforcements hadn't arrived, Krizsan may well have been even more devastated, if not taken-- although that's still unlikely. What motives are there? It makes no sense!"


Dear Mrrna,

We of the Guild are aware of the so-called Dominion of the Learned and are prepared to defend the interests of the people of the Karnold Province. However, we cannot devote any adventurers towards the cause of being a permanent guard. It might be possible, however, for us to send a detachment of pirate frigates to guard your waters from naval invaders. If you should so choose, we could gather up to four Third-Rate frigates for your defense, along with the support of Cutters and Sloops. Additionally, if you know that the Dominion is going to move to attack you, we would be happy to send aide under such circumstances.

Prices for our agents' service can be negotiable according to the magnitude of the task(s) assigned. Prices for naval assistance can be negotiated with Cagnazzo.

Signed, Rubicante, Master of the Adventurers' Guild"


Posts: 6936 | Registered: Tuesday, September 18 2001 07:00
Law Bringer
Member # 2984
Profile Homepage #204
V. Nightly Visitors

The fine art of diplomacy may be told in a dozen or a thousand rules, but the most basic two are always the same: Show no hostility, but prepare for battle. Expect no treachery, but be ready to deal with it. -- General Karadas on negotiating.


A clear night in the Ndovlu. Cold winds came rushing down the canyon, howling past the gate like a pack of mad wolves, whistling around the high tower. The sky was filled with glittering shards of diamond. The wind was the only sound.

The beacon light of the citadel shone down on the narrow path and the bridge, leaving no shadows for invaders to hide in. The greatest library south of the Imperial Archives in Blackstone was well-protected indeed.

The sentry wrapped her scarf more tightly and turned north to face the wind. Here on the tower's peak, its force was free and unbroken, and her robe flapped behind her. Gazing out across the canyon, Kharla suppressed a shiver. Her shift would be over in an hour.


The stone floor was as cold as rock can be. A magical light shone down from the corner of the room, but it was weak and fluttering like a candle that will die soon. It barely penetrated the shadows of the tiny chamber.

One of the shadows stirred.

Gobrak sat up in the darkness of the storeroom converted into a makeshift cell. He was muttering softly to himself. Curse them, filthy humans. Bite them and scratch them and kill them, kill them dead, yes!

By now, the glug had worn off completely; it was his rage that robbed him of more eloquent speech. What was the matter with these fools? He had just entered those bushes to relieve himself, and in the next moment he had been gripped by the sorceror's spell like in a vise.

They had not killed him yet, but Gobrak had heard too much about humans for that to mean anything. They would probably slaughter him when they were bored, or hungry.

If only the floor were a little less cold! Gobrak wrapped himself in the grimy blanket he had been given, and waited stoically for his fate. When they come for me, I will be on them like a mountain lion, he thought to himself. I will take as many of them with me as I can, and they will not forget my claws. He grinned a skull's grin, grim and full of teeth. The Gobby Gods will have reason to be proud of me.


On the highest peak and in the lowest dungeon of the citadel, the two sleepless wakers were both shivering with the cold. Somewhere between them, yet a third occupant was unable to rest.

Alfgar was pacing in his study like a caged bear. By now, his pace had evolved a complex pattern of its own: Round and round the desk, once, twice, up to the door and past the bookshelves, brushing the backs of the tomes like old friends, muttering. Then on to the window - a short pause by the window to gaze out at the wind-tossed night - then past the fireplace and back to the desk, and around.

A storm was brewing. Alfgar had led this library too long to fail to feel in his blood when it was in peril.

The last message from his scrying mage had come this morning. Kaz ship has docked at the coast north of here and left again. What had been loaded off or onto it, the scrying was unable to reveal: It was a long-range spell only, decreasing in accuracy the closer one tried to view. They had barely been able to see the ship landing, much less found out what it had brought or taken.

Alfgar had read of the Order, naturally. For a warrior cult, its history was surprisingly benign, but then records also told of a time when Anama and wizards dwelt in harmony on the Isle of Bigail. He knew better than to judge groups by their past. Acquisition, Destruction, Censorship. The three perils. Religious orders, when they were a threat, fell into the latter two categories. Still, if the Order intended hostility, it would have sent more than a single ship. Perhaps they did not even know of the Keepers - the library had in the past kept a deliberately low profile.

He remembered that the west side of the Ndovlu held many small coves and caverns that had been used by smugglers and pirates of all ages, for cargo runs between the two continents. The Dread Corsair Allos Nogan, the fearsome guild leader Vida, the Pirate Queen... such legends were entwined with the caves of the Ndovlu mountains. But smugglers rarely sailed under a Church flag.

More worrying was the report of the captured goblin. Alfgar had no doubt that its tale rang true - it had not been spying, had just wandered off from the rest while drinking - but that did not change its tale of the smart goblins. Their leader was a reformer, Alfgar gathered. He had done much to introduce literacy and education in his tribe, even reformed their religion.

And it did not change the fact that the goblin had been found much further south than their usual territory - in the northern passes, less than a day's march from the citadel. Were they moving south finally? Alfgar had already put the guards in a state of alert, watching the canyon around the clock. But were they going to assault the library, or pass it and move south to Valorim?

A map of the isthmus and the northern edge of Valorim lay on his desk; he briefly paused his pacing to glance at it, more to refresh his memory than to read. Wyvernton would fall in a massacre - even without being a direct target, the library would suffer a shortage of food. South of the mountains were empty lands, much space for the goblins to rally. They would come over the mountains and invade Valorim like an avalanche; the northern cities stood no chance. Perhaps the Anama would be able to stop their advance, or the mages of Karnold would. Half the continent would be left in ruin.

But he was still haunted by the fire of intelligence that had shone in Gobrak's eyes as they took him away.

"They will come for me! My men will come for me before the night's out, and we'll kill you! Kill you all! Killkillkillkillkill!"

Alfgar shivered too, but not with the cold.


The sentry's face was starting to tingle uncomfortably. The cold had long reached her ears through the felt cap, and her eyes were stinging in the wind. Her shift would be over soon. In her mind, she was already back inside, wrapped in a blanket and drinking graynettle tea.

Four minutes.

Nothing was going to happen this night.

She was already contemplating going down early to wait out the last minutes inside and then wake the next sentry, but protocol was strict. Her shift lasted from midnight to two hours, and the switch was to take no more than a minute. So she braced herself against the cold, looked out over the empty canyon and continued to think of tea.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kharla thought she saw movement. Then it vanished. It was probably the cold; her eyes were already watering. But when she continued to gaze at the path, she could make out shapes, shadows moving at the edge of the light.

Something was happening after all.


Alfgar jumped as the door opened and Skorgere entered. He thought of a scathing remark regarding the tradition of knocking, but it died on the way to his lips when he saw Skorgere's white face.

"Goblins, master. They are approaching the citadel."

"How many?"

"We can see no more than thirty, master. But the rest of the troops may be hanging back behind the vanguard."

Alfgar's voice was clipped, and his words rushed. "Have our guards readied and stand to attention in the entrance hall. Tell the caretakers to lock the archive vaults. Have the staff barricade themselves in the upper halls."

"Immediately, master."

*[[ooc: took some restraint to keep from making this "yes, precious".]]
[[ooc: this will also be the first and last time I have titled an IC post. Sorry yet again.]]

[ Wednesday, March 29, 2006 16:30: Message edited by: Whan Aprill with his shoures sote ]

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General Cyril looked up at the rising sun, by his estimation it was time to march on Sharimik. Knor had told him to wait in Soft Port until O’Leary called asking for help for Sharimik, and the urgent message had come last night. The townsfolk of Sharimik were fed up with the sickness in the area and had gathered outside the town hall, O’Leary begged Cyril to march as soon as possible, several days earlier than originally planned, or else he might arrive to find the city in the hands of rebelling peasants. The plan had been nearly ruined when those hotheaded Looters had suddenly charged off, but disasters was averted when they were dissuaded from whatever rash attack they had planned.

He gave the order for his officers to put the troops into ranks, and finished giving his instructions to Commander Varion, who would be in charge of Soft Port. “Men, the people of Sharimik are suffering from the devious plans of our single greatest enemy, the wizard. We are marching south at the request of local Lord O’Leary, to restore peace and offer support in whatever way is necessary.”

The soldiers were to well disciplined to cheer like some sort of mob, but Cyril could see that the announcement had boosted their morale. He wasn’t in the habit of deceiving his soldiers when an explanation would harm no one.

The march was uneventful. When they drew near to Sharimik they began to pass through empty farming villages. No one was in the streets, everyone either was sick in bed from the poison, or tending to sick family members or friends. At each village several priests skilled in curing and a troop of soldiers were left behind. They would clear up the water and relieve the serfs’ sufferings.

The Anama arrived to find the gates of Sharimik open, and a group of soldiers there to escort them into the city. Their commander spoke with General Cyril, “Lord O’Leary will formally welcome you soon, for now your soldiers can go to the unused barracks in the northeastern corner of town.”

Cyril sent his priests to cleanse the town’s wells, and then proceeded to oversee his soldiers stow their gear and polish their armor in the barracks. The barracks looked like they hadn’t been used since the Troglodyte War, when a much larger standing military was necessary.

That afternoon the troops paraded down the street, resplendent in their glittering white armor. O’Leary publicly greeted them as the town’s saviors, and the crowds who had gathered earlier to nearly drag their Lord into the streets now cheered the Anama. They cheered for Cyril to speak.

The general was no Archbishop Knor, he didn’t have his charisma to drive a crowd to murderous rage, so he spoke plainly. “The mages have poisoned your city just as they have poisoned Ermarian. Delivering your province is just a step in our plans to eliminate their presence, your dead lost to the wizard’s plague are now martyrs for a great cause.”

The crowd roared. Everyone wouldn’t buy into the Anama’s anti-mage campaign, but few of these dissenters were brave enough to speak out. The hearts of the people of Sharimik were now in the Anama’s hands.

OoC- No harm done Wonko.
Thralni, I sent you a PM.
Aran, is that a goblin or has gollum infiltrated the RP?? (Edit: didn't see your OoC, guess you already saw that.) :)

[ Wednesday, March 29, 2006 16:32: Message edited by: Lazarus ]

Guaranteed to blow your mind.

Frostbite: Get It While It's...... Hot?
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The Nephil messenger had finnaly arrived at Shayder. Making sure he wouldn't be seen, he went through the sewers. There was an awful stench, and he had to make sure the man attending at the jails won't see him. However, after some fancy acrobatic trics, He finnaly arrived on the surface, through a small concealed room in the back of town. The door had been forced once, a long time ago, for all he could see. he wondered why they would let the door open, though, when the sewers serve as a prison. It didn't seem very normal.

He slowly and silently walked out of the room, and while constantly hiding behind walls and bushes, he reached the west end of the city. With only a litlle effort, the Nephil managed to very slowly walk over a 5 inch ridge between the west wall of the anama church and where all the offices were of the high priests, and the archbishop. using the small wand he got from Mernal, he managed to lay the note down on a small table at the window of the archbishop's room.

It took a while, but the archbishop finnaly enetered the room. From what the Nephil could hear, he didn't seem pleased. he muttered to himself angrily, but the muttering stopped when the door closed. Fast paces, the sound of a notew being read. Fast paces again.

After an other (what the Nephil assumed to be) fifteen minutes, the archbishop came back. However, now he heard other voices, and more footsteps. He could clearly hear what these people said:

"Archbishop Knor, where did you find the note?"

"It just lay on the table. I asked the guards if they had seen anybody enter my room, but they saw nothing. Unless the note just came flying here..."

The Nephil heard wild laughter.

"Archbishop, that was a good joke."

"Thanks. However, what should we do? Whoever thes men are, the fact that they need this arrows and the fact that they might lend us a spy when needed, probably suggest that they might want to fight undead."

"Undead and maybe also demons, archbishop," an other voice replied.

"Indeed. these are the henchman greatest enemies we have: the wizards. We shall vote. Who votes "yes" for the proposal, thereby giving these men aid, and maybe also making our position in this situation stronger."

Silence. Then the Nephil heard the archbishop count the hands:

"...5, 6. Good. We all agree. Guard, could you please walk to the store room, and fetch 20 arrows of life, and 20 arrows of light please?"

"Yes sir, of course sir."

Hasty footsteps, followed by the sounds of opening and closing doors. Silence. opening and closing doors.

"Thanks, guard. Now, the letter said to put the arrows, with the note back at the window."

Footsteps, sounds of arrows being placed. The archbishop whisperes to the others:

"Now lets go, and let guards survey this room. We shall soon see who is this mysterious group that wants these arrows."

They all walked outside, as silently as they could. The Nephil took the wand, aimed it to the window, and a bunch of arrows, together with a note came flying out, followed by startled cries and shouts of amazement. The Nephil quickly shuffeled away from the ridge, and, making sure he wouildn't be seen, left town as he had came there: through the sewers.

Mernal should be pleased. He has what he asked for. Now its time to head back, and give Mernal this stuff.

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
Raven v. Writing Desk
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Profile Homepage #207
We goblins must learn to trust and rely on each other. However, it's always good to have a backup plan. And if the backup plan also involves relying on goblins, you will want to have a third plan. If that plan also involves relying on goblins, you will want to have a fourth plan...

-- The Great Authoritative Extra Great Guide to Killing, Slaying, Butchering, and Otherwise Disemboweling Humans

Gobubary was born as a cripple, and it was for that defect that he was given his name. Goblin names don't mean anything, but the sound of 'Gobubary' was said to resemble the sight of the infant goblin trying to move about. For Gobubary had been born with only one leg.

It wasn't simply that he had a missing leg; rather, where other goblins would have two legs, he simply had one big leg. In most days he would have been killed, but under Glogroth's enlightened rule, his life had been spared. Despite his defect, or perhaps because of it, Gobubary was driven to learn more than the other goblins, and to be better than them, even with a sword. And due to his unusual perseverence, he had succeeded.

Of course, he still couldn't walk. He had a pair of crutches, and his leg only grew less useful with age and disuse, until eventually he began to drag it behind him when he walked, propelling himself forward with the crutches and then -- schllloompf, up swings the leg. Propel, schllloompf.

So he was a horror on the field of war. He couldn't move fast enough to keep up with troops, he couldn't ride a worg, and while he could fence as well as any living statue, that still made him a less than effective fieldmarshall. Nonetheless, he was smart, and tactically astute, and he had a vitality and stubbornness to him that endeared him to most anyone he worked with. So Glogroth reluctantly agreed to put him in charge of one of their armies: though not any in the first wave.

His leadership was a comical sight, one that both he and his men took many laughs from, and it kept them in good cheer. For in order to keep up with the army, Gobubary had to be carried in a litter.

One fateful day, when Gobubary's army was about halfway down the isthmus, his scouts reported seeing a ship anchored near the coast. At that news, Gobubary has hissed gleefully; for humans were practically the only creatures who ever used ships. But the scouts had not seen anyone by the ship. So Gobubary ordered his men to spread out, to try and form a great semicircle around the ship; that way, if they found the passengers on the isthmus, they would have them surrounded. With the several hundred goblins in the army, this was relatively easily done; but their forces would be spread thin, and if the humans were discovered, the rest of the army would have to close in quickly, to prevent the humans from gaining any advantage.

The goblins ran off to follow Gobubary's orders. His litter took him to the center of their lines. And sure enough, about an hour later, cries rang out to his right; the goblins had encountered someone. Quickly, Gobubary shouted out orders for all goblins to close in on the fighting.

"All of us?" asked Pako, one of his lieutenants and his chief litter-bearer.

"No, none of you!" snapped Gobubary, sarcastically. Go kill the humans this second!"

"All right," said Pako. And at once all the litter-bearers dropped the litter and began to race towards the shrieks and cries.

"You gobbing gobtards!" shrieked Gobubary. Pako turned around, and what she saw replayed itself again and again in her mind, in slow motion. The litter had struck the ground at an angle, and Gobubary's useless leg bounced off of it, and propelled him several feet in the air. He landed head-first on a rock outcropping. There was blood everywhere. His head was smashed. Gobubary was dead.

Pako steeled herself and turned to follow her fellow litter-bearers, who hadn't even turned around and were already on their way to the skirmish.

She hoped there weren't very many humans, or that they were poorly armed. She really wasn't in a mood to fight. She had been terribly shaken by the image of Gobubary's giant leg, which, cushioned by his head and torso, had survived the impact quite nicely.

Slarty vs. DeskDesk vs. SlartyTimeline of ErmarianG4 Strategy Central
Posts: 3560 | Registered: Wednesday, November 7 2001 08:00
Member # 6670
Profile Homepage #208
On behalf of GoldenKing:

This battle is going on far too long, Tygra thought to himself. He was sure the men bearing the chest would have been captured immediately, with the raiders leaving on their ships. Apparently he had underestimated the skill of his men. If they were still obeying his last command to him to flee to an 'armed group set up for this purpose.' If only it wasn't for those ships. Inspiration struck him, and he turned to an aide. "Send out men to find all the oil-dealers in the city. I want you to start dumping the casks into the ocean. When the time is right, light them." It was unfortunate, but necessary. But, with the decimation of his appropriated fleet, Krizsan wouldn't be depending on fishing anytime soon.


Sergeant McCallister paused behind a building with his men, looking out into the harbour. Those wand-wielding raiders had secured the open area, but hopefully not much longer. He looked back at his group, all good men from Silvar. "When the forces from Colchis attack on the other side," he said quietly, "we charge. Don't stop for anything, and move to close range as soon as possible." A few more minutes of quiet waiting, then a wordless roar reached their ears. "Now!" he cried, brandishing his sword. His men leapt from behind the shattered buildings of the harbour district. The raiders turned, firing off a few wand blasts before his men slammed into their front ranks. Quickly the fighting turned to close hand-to-hand, negating the use of the raiders' more destructive wands. Now lets see how willing these ships are to fire into their own men...

EDIT: Stupid missing slash.

[ Thursday, March 30, 2006 09:50: Message edited by: Dintiradan ]
Posts: 1509 | Registered: Tuesday, January 10 2006 08:00
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Profile Homepage #209
Demetrius and Tychius emerged from the carriage and looked around at the area. Mountains surrounded them on all sides, with a narrow path leading down from the cleft. To the south lay Golddale, and to the northwest he could make out the Bay of Bigail. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He and Tychius had slept most of the journey; they would need to be well-rested. Soon after he had received the first message regarding Krizsan, another had followed, in greater detail. Wand-wielding raiders. Demetrius smiled. Apparently the Looters had brought the majority of their forces by ship to Krizsan. Excellent.

A woman walked up to the carriage, with a small group of younger robed men and women behind her, and Demetrius nodded to her. "Good afternoon, Agent Celeste. Take Archmage Tychius and myself to where you have secured the crystals, if you please."

A short hike later, the group arrived on the ledge. Demetrius and Tychius didn't waste any time admiring the view. Instead, they sat on opposite sides of the center crystal. Demetrius closed his eyes. Once the flow was established, lesser magi could control the spell, but to initiate it required all of his and Tychius's strength. Connect the main with the four outlying crystals, so, then anchor with the mountain's ley line...


A little shaky from vertigo, Alexandria and her two companions stepped from the portal. She looked around briefly at the ruins of the once triumphant Tower, then turned to the force awaiting them. "I am Battlemage Alexandria of the Dominion of the Learned, here to speak with a representative of King Lartaynoir," she said proudly. Time to see how Lower Avernum stood with the Dominion.


Demetrius stumbled back to the rear of the ledge, exhausted, and heard Tychius do the same. It was done. He opened his eyes and looked around. Night blanketed the mountain range, but he saw the glow emanating from the five crystals. A much larger group of magi had arrived and now were taking shifts maintaining the spell. He motioned to Celeste. "I'm charging you to the defense of this place. Make it a deathtrap to any who try to get near it. Hopefully, you'll be able to keep off the merely curious with illusionary dead-ends, but I want a scry network set up." He looked out to the glittering Bay of Bigail. It would take a while for the effects to manifest - weather magic always took long - but soon the eastern side of the Bay would experience the worst waves it had seen in a decade. The calm had ended. The storm was about to arrive, and with it his Battlemagi. After weeks of rest, his 'troops' would move north.

This shouldn't be overpowered. There are ways to bypass it.
Posts: 1509 | Registered: Tuesday, January 10 2006 08:00
Member # 4
Profile Homepage #210
(OOC: I'm not sure how you could "hide men" with the entire harbor district basically crushed to a hut, but I'll assume that the pirates simply didn't get to you yet.)


Outside of Bargha. "Crap- Why the hell weren't you incompetents aiming there like I ordered you to? Crap! Hell! Damnation!" Guido was pissed off. His direct orders were carried out by three yr. olds. His gunmen suddenly stopped firing cannons.

"What are you doing? Fire!" A pirate turned to him, flabbergasted. "Those are our allies! We'd kill them!" Guido spat. "We aren't here to save their hides. Rubicante's men will get out safely enough anyway; they're not that stupid. Try to avoid hitting the Looters, but fire!"


Sergeant McCallister was leading his troops into what essentially amounted to a stalemate. On the other hand, such a stalemate guaranteed a delay in time that would allow reinforcements to pin down the enemies and kill them.

Boom! McCallister turned wide-eyed towards his left just in time to see a large cannon volley tear through the battle. His men were devestated, sure, but what shocked him the most was the number of enemy fighters who were taken out in the barrage. "Goddamnit! Are these pirates complete idiots? What the hell are they thinking?" The fighters were scared, but both parties continued the attack. "At least," McCallister thought to himself, "they might not do that again after seeing how incredibly stupid it was."

Boom! McCallister was horrified at this point. Thinking to himself, he said, "It was Tygra's goal to kill these invaders. But at this rate, there won't be anyone to keep defending the eastern cities! This is madness- sure, we'll kill the enemy, but at this rate, the pirates' ground forces will be enough to--"

Boom! Another round tore a huge hole into his ranks. The Looters had lost a profound number of men, but McCallister had lost more. "Retreat! Get out! These pirates are suicidal!" His men immediately responded. Those not involved in the front lines broke formation and ran with the devil at their feet, and those involved with the Looters were either gutted in the interrum or managed to push their opponents back far enough to retreat. The Looters (and their Guild assistants, a few of whom died in the melee) took off and fled.

The Looters made it to the wholly ruined areas of town. If the Hunters planned on stopping their retreat, they would have to think of a way that wouldn't get their own armies wiped out: McCallister learned that these raiders weren't particularly concerned with the well-being of their own troops.


"Sir, the battle is over. The Hunters' forces have ran." Guido smiled. "Fine. Is there--"

"Sir! Some civilians are gathering towards the far end of the city. They appear to be carrying many large barrels." Guido reached for his telescope and went to the top deck. (He was at this point out of any sniper's range, nevermind that most of the snipers in the city had been essentially exterminated.) "Is that...? Yes! That's oil! And they're going to dump it into the ocean. How amateurish."

Guido saw a dead longbowman lying on the deck. "How opportune..." Taking one of the arrows, he used his bandana and tied it around the arrow firmly. Then, he went into the lower decks and found a bucket of oil and dunked the arrow into it. Running back to the deck as quickly as he could manage, he brushed the arrow by a torch in the ship's lower deck. He took aim at the barrels and fired a shot.


"Come on, you monkeys! Tygra wants all of their contents poured into the ocean. Those pirates will fry!" One of the dock workers pointed up. "Sir, look up! It looks like a small flair."
"That's no flare. . . Damn! Let's get out of here!"

The dock workers and merchants began running. Then, the arrow struck one of the barrels.


The explosion of the barrels of the oil could be heard throughout the city. The merchants themselves were writhing like fish out of water as the incineration quickly melted the flesh off of their bones. The nearby buildings that hadn't yet been demolished by cannonfire were rent asunder. Fortunately, the nearby city walls and houses outside of the explosion's epicenter remained intact. (Krizsan had switched to stone walls a long while ago.)


A messenger walked into the partially-damaged capitol building. "Tygra, sir, I assume you're not deaf, but the plan of incinerating the pirate fleet--"

Tygra found the nearest heavy object-- a silver goblet-- and threw it at the messenger, knocking him out upon impact.


West of Pergies. A carrier pidgeon fluttered into the cabin of the ship, resting gently on its perch. Admiral Marco undid the latch on the glass casing (used to prevent corrosion from the weather) which contained a message from Captain Guido.

There are some men headed north of Krizsan with the tome. Use ground forces to incercept. Our forces are retreating. Enemy has sustained heavy losses. Send word to Cagnazzo.

Admiral Marco was a methodical man, yet he knew the importance of this mission. He called in the Guild members. "You! The book is traveling north from Krizsan. We've obtained some steeds from the local farms. You are to take some of our more proficient snipers and warriors east with you. Expect heavy resistance: We have been told that they did not send that many men with them, but assume the worst. Now go!"

The adventurers and pirates ran out of the room and quickly disembarked. True enough, they found some powerful steeds at the beach guarded by the pirates camping outside to watch for potential enemies or game. They quickly got on and rode eastwards.

Posts: 6936 | Registered: Tuesday, September 18 2001 07:00
Member # 32
Profile #211
Fort Dolthar:
As Sulfi prepared to rest, he realized that his incantations would have little effect. The magic emitted from the decaying barriers was overpowering them. Creating stronger magical wards would be useless as he didn't intend on staying there much longer. With this in mind he set two students on the watch as he took a brief rest. For security reasons, he stayed far away from the obelisk and ordered the younger magi to do the same.

However, curiousity has a strange effect on some minds. It was at this moment that the fates conspired against Derek. It seemed to him as though a voice was whispering in his mind to place his hand on the obelisk. For the first hour he was able to ignore it; however, as time ticked on the voice began to overwhelm him. Suddenly he shifted his hand into the indent on the pylon. Instantly the caves erupted in a brilliant white light.

A sphere a magical energy exploded from the column as it fell into a pile of rubble. The blast instantly killed Derek. As the sphere expanded, all the other apprentices that Sulfi brought along with him met the same fate. He himself felt a sharp pain in his head as the wave of energy struck him, yet managed to survive the encounter. Finally as the wave connected with the barriers, they themselves exploded in an awesome display and all the magic dissipated. Suffering from the tremendous strain, Sulfi passed out.

Fort Dolthar:
Denrich knocked loudly on the door of Master Krynt. It was well known that the old fool was hard of hearing. "Enter," the ancient wizard said softly.

"Krynt, when do you expect Acrio to return? The King is ready to accept the trade negotiations as long as we can hold up our end of the bargain."

"I suspect that young Sulfi will not be back for sometime yet. The waterways between here and the Eastern Gallery can be treacherous at times."

"If he is not back within the next few days we will have to begin rationing our supplies. Even then, we don't know how long it will take the Knights of Old Avernum to provide us with food."

"If the time comes that I need to make that decision then I will. Let me worry about such things Denrich. In fact, I have an idea. I would like you to head down to the docks and see if any of my messengers have arrived."


"You'll see."

Denrich trudged down toward the docks. Why would Sulfi have left that old fool in charge. His mind has been lost for over a decade now. He grew even more angry when he found himself standing alone at the docks. Then a large fish jumped out of the water next to him and splashed down. The fact that he was now soaking wet did not make him feel any better. As he prepared to cast an icebolt spell at the poor creature he noticed a small voice enter his mind.
<Please, I meant no harm. I have a message for Master Krynt.>
Denrich stared at the creature in disbelief. The old wizard had done it again, toyed with nature in the most unnatural way."What is the message?"
<What is the password?>
"Water Buffalo." Denrich was never sure how Master Krynt had come up with such a ridiculous password; however, he had known the man used it for just about everything for several years now.

<I bring word from the outpost in the waters of the Eastern Gallery. The outpost has been established and supplies should last them for the next two weeks. Bye.> The fish swam away into the dark waters. Denrich knew this information already; yet, he was somehow pleased and disturbed about the new system that Master Krynt had set up during his absence. The old wizard then seemingly came out of nowhere, "You should've seen how many of them exploded before I managed to get the spell correct."
North of Fort Avernum:

"My lord, our scouts have reported an event in the Fort Dranlon region." Iktin-Bok was pleased by this news. The signaling stations that the keepers had spent weeks preparing throughout the Eastern Gallery were actually appearing to be of some use. "Very well, send a group to investigate and report back.

Lt. Sullust
Cogito Ergo Sum
Posts: 2462 | Registered: Wednesday, October 3 2001 07:00
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Profile #212

The emissary demanded, and received, the attention of someone high in the Solarian government.

He was a hard-faced man, scarred, in the prime of his life, and he would have been mildly handsome were it not for a towering arrogance and the way that he looked at passerby as if they were not fit to be stepped upon. His armour was polished to a bright sheen that nevertheless did little to hide the signs of heavy use, and the cloak of white and silver was distinctive enough to mark him as a Kazian. He offered a stiff salute.

"Cleric-Knight Raeddeg," he introduced himself without the customary niceties. "Kaz accepts the appeal of Solaria." His tone, though smooth and cultured, revealed his dislike for this particular assignment. "The nephilim are no threat to our might. However, until they have learnt the value of keeping out of His land, alliance is accepted. Praise be to Kaz for all honour and mercy."

Behind Raeddeg, one of the two knights that had accompanied the haughty emissary rolled his eyes.


n of Imperius

The main branch of the river had dwindled into a deep and fast-flowing stream, nestled at the foot of thick trees and moss covered boulders. There was not enough room here for an army to advance, and Enhard continued on with a select squad of warriors. They had not far to go; within an hour, Enhard came at last to the source of the river.

Gerulf came to stand at his shoulder. "Glory to Kaz," he murmured, awed, and Enhard could only nod agreement. "Do you suppose the Avatar–?"

"Of course," the high cleric replied. "Did He not send us to this very spot?"

Before them, in a dell as green and rich as the most fertile land, was an ancient, crumbled building. The stone blocks were massive, worn round with the passing of ages, and fallen statues bearded by lichen littered the walk. The hems of their cloaks brushed against leafy vines as they followed the narrow path. It was cool here, shaded on all sides, and they shivered with relief from the heat of the sun. In the centre of an open courtyard was a deep, round pool, and it was from here that the water sprang from the ground, overflowing its edge to run in a channel carved by time. No noise penetrated the building; it was utterly silent here, and still, and though the forest had grown into its boundary, the structure of the building could still be seen.

"What is this place?" Gerulf murmured, ,reluctant to breach the silent sanctity of the ruin with a raised voice.

"A temple," Enhard said, staring at a faded and broken mosaic. "A temple to the old gods. See, there is Kaz."

And indeed, the mosaic held a multitude of figures, among which they could easily recognise their own god. There also was Aescal, and Carrunos, and many others they did not know. And so the Kazians spent the day exploring the remains of the temple, and in prayer, until the tranquility of the sanctuary had permeated their entire being.


sw foot of Jsoulza mountains

Like all towns beholden to Kaz, Folcbald was fortified with a wall and a ditch. It was a small town, as towns went, filled with trappers and miners and the occasional farmer. The temple of Kaz was also modest, serviced by two clerics, one of whom had been honourably crippled in battle.

When the attack came, it was with the near silent hiss of arrows in flight and sharp points lodged in the throats of the sentries. Not all of them were killed, of course, and the alarm raised was enough to wake every citizen of Folcbald. They rose from their beds with shouts of confusion and consternation, and grasped what arms lay nearby. Even the children, some of them only as tall as the vicious creatures who now swarmed over the walls, the children who were taught to hold a sword since the moment they could walk, picked up their weapons.

But for every citizen of Folcbald, there were ten more goblins. The garrison in the town was small, and most of the knights died in the blaze that consumed the barracks.

One youth escaped the chaos on a farm worked pony, bearing a goblin spear and a nephilim arrow away to the west. The nearest town was some leagues away. No army could reach Folcbald in time to aid it, but retaliation would be swift.


Ndovlu isthmus

"Hssst!" Captain Wilbrand held up his fist, and the group came to an instant standstill. He was staring to the north, dark eyes scanning the slopes of the mountains. Around him all the Kazians were doing the same, hands on their swords. Even Mareike, without the heavy but protective armour of the full knights, started to string her bow. Wilbrand found what he was looking for, and pointed out the small shadow of movement to the others.

"What is it?" Mareike asked, brow furrowed.

"Trouble," said Wilbrand, picking out more movement. Now that he knew what he was looking for, the entire range seemed to be crawling. "And lots of it."

"Goblins," another knight announced.

Wilbrand grimaced with distaste. "We're too exposed here. Come on."

The group redoubled its pace, heading south, away from the goblins they had seen.

And straight into an equally startled party of goblins.
Posts: 356 | Registered: Saturday, August 23 2003 07:00
Member # 5977
Profile Homepage #213
OOC: Slartucker, it beats me how you managed to get to Hralek, but I'll proceed from the point where Hralek was captured


Hralek walked of with the goblins, while Gernas sat behind a big boulder, looking suspiciously at the goblin troops. He waited. The goblins left Hralek alone, with some other goblin, who, for some reason, seemed to be the chief goblin. Gernas took out his piece of paper, as to report back to Mernal.

Gernas writing this, sir

We have com across goblins, as we suspected. Hralek is captured. Goblins treat him with respect. Hralek wan't the one to watch the goblins, I had that duty. Shall I proceed on to the lands beyond valorim? waiting for further instructions. goblins might be of good use to us.

He put away the paper. He silently crawled up, and then sat behind, a hill, where he waited. Hralek hadn't used his crystal, although Mernal told them to use it when they got captured. Hralek might the right decision, I think, though I hope Mernal will understand it too, which I doubt.

he kept waiting, and evey now and then he turned around and climed up the hill, as to see what was happening in the goblin camp. Nothing at all. They were sitting and talking. As long as they handle him with respect and Hralek doesn't tell about me, nobody would get hurt...

[ Friday, March 31, 2006 02:51: 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
Triad Mage
Member # 7
Profile Homepage #214
Arriving huffing and puffing in Greenfield three hours later, Isaiah took only enough time to drink before recounting the terrible tale of the goblin destruction. Incensed, the people of Greenfield demanded blood. Thick, green blood.


OOC: More is coming, but I'm out of time.

"At times discretion should be thrown aside, and with the foolish we should play the fool." - Menander
Drakefyre's Demesne - Happy Happy Joy Joy
Encyclopedia Ermariana - Trapped in the Closet
You can take my Mac when you pry my cold, dead fingers off the mouse!
Posts: 9436 | Registered: Wednesday, September 19 2001 07:00
Member # 4574
Profile #215
Tygra looked at the devastated city. There was nothing left for him here. He summoned all his mages up and told them to resort to necromancy. Tygra would kill the raiders in waves of undead. Tygra pulled out a Far Speak crystal and talked to the people with the tome. "The situation is desperate, burn the book." he said to them.

Tygra evacuated Krizsan completly so that the necromancers could do their work. Now to sit back and watch the show. He would build a new capital from solid bone. After this his undead army could kill the Looters in their home.
OOC: Dintiradan, your still in control for now.

Constitutional monarchies are the in monarchies.
Posts: 1186 | Registered: Friday, June 18 2004 07:00
Law Bringer
Member # 6489
Profile Homepage #216
Stepping out of his tent, Selwyn saw the surface-worlders. It's hard not to distinguish them with that tanned skin. "I am General Selwyn, his majesty's ambassador, what is it that you wish to discuss with me?"

"We come bearing an offer of alliance from the Dominion of the Learned, sir," said Alexandria, respectively.

"Well, I believe this is something that his majesty would probably want to hear himself. Lt. Mandon!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Form up a 25-man escort to take Lady Alexandria to Torfen to see the king."

"Yes sir! Right away sir!"

"Are you ready to go now, my lady?"

"Yes, I would like to see his grace as soon as possible."


There was a knock on the door. Lartaynior looked up and said, "Enter."

Selwyn came into the room. "Sire, a delegation from the Dominion of the Learned on the surface would like to speak with you."

Surface worlders? What in the Abyss do they want?

"Send them in."

A woman came into the room, followed by two men dressed in robes. They got down on one knee immediately. "Your majesty," said the woman, "I am Battlemage Alexandria of the Dominion of the Learned. I have been sent here to treat with you."

"What is that you want from the caves, my lady?"

"Magister Demetrius requires focusing crystals, your grace."

"Well we have plenty of those. What can we expect in return?"

"we are prepared to offer magical scrolls and wands and perhaps even magi to assist you, your grace."

Why not? This could be profitable. I am wary of treating with surface-worlders, especially considering the opinions of my allies in the upper caves, but if they let these magi through the portal, it should be alright.

"I believe that we can come to an arrangement, my lady. Tell, Magister Demetrius that I am pleased to enter into trade with him."

"Yes your grace," Alexandria smiled.


"We're almost their men," General Cressen called to his troops. Lartaynior had sent him and 5 legions north of the Tower of Magi to re-establish contact with Mertis. They were now approaching the farmlands surrounding the city. As they topped a rise and looked down on the area, he could see the scattered farms ant the city they surrounded, or what was left of them.

Something is very wrong. Most of the building were torn down or burned, and the city itself had a gaping hole in its southern wall. Corpses lay everywhere.

What in the world has happened here?

[ Sunday, December 03, 2006 15:39: Message edited by: Tyranicus ]

"You're drinking liquor because you're thirsty? How nasty is your freaking water?" —Lazarus
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Posts: 1556 | Registered: Sunday, November 20 2005 08:00
Member # 65
Profile Homepage #217
--Gorst (A week after last KIL Post)--

The seaside town was being re-fortified. Before the fall of the Empire, they had grown complacent and lazy, letting it's walls crumble and wards drain.

They would not make that mistake again.

So the walls were re-enforced and the priest of Gorst walked about, placing wards against disease on the walls and Mrrsa etched runes of protection against fire on all of the wooden buildings. These charms were simple and unshowy yet had proved effective against fire in other times.

After all of the excitement of the past few weeks. Their little corner of the world (ie Islands) were quieting down again. Yet people were still wary. Stories had somehow filtered through about distant battles and hordes of goblins.

--New Temple--

Kelas had sent Sister Alket back to Gebra in his stead while he and Jamid aquainted with the church, cleaning out the detritus of the centuries.

Before Alket had left all three had studied the books intensely. Many of the rituals were well known to them. Yet they had also found variations that produced very interesting results. A day later they had recieved letter from Mrrsa asking for the books for her own study. Reluctantly they did so, what would a mage need with priest books anyway?


Currently stationed in Gorst, she studied the books in the former mayor's study. Mrrsa carefully copied out the prayers onto good quality scrolls-for future reference and to prevent damage to the books.

As she carefully did this time consuming process she came across a note left there by Kelas.
Text is un unknown language. Translate?.

Mrrsa stared at the page trying to recall everthing she learnt about any foreign lanaguage. It looked familiar but she couldn't place it. The page remained untranslated.

Then she remembered she might be able to find someone that could.

Dear Master Rubicante,

I am pleased that you offer support against the Dominion and Pirates, although there have been no signs of interest in us so far.
However there may be something that the Guild can be of help with.
Recently several Prayer Books, at least a few centuries old were uncovered on one of the Islands. Most of the text is understandable but there is one passage that remains untranslated by both the priests and myself.
The Dominion may have resources but for obvious reasons they cannot be trusted with this. I have enclosed a copy of the text, perhaps you know of a group that would have some knowledge in this field that would be willing to translate.

Signed, Mrrsa-Mage

OOC : The group I'm hoping to translate is Aran's Keepers of Memory.

[ Friday, March 31, 2006 13:04: Message edited by: *Milla ]

Milla-Displacer Beastie

This is also a good site
Posts: 650 | Registered: Thursday, October 4 2001 07:00
Triad Mage
Member # 7
Profile Homepage #218
Originally written by Drakefyre:

Arriving huffing and puffing in Greenfield three hours later, Isaiah took only enough time to drink before recounting the terrible tale of the goblin destruction. Incensed, the people of Greenfield demanded blood. Thick, green blood.


OOC: More is coming, but I'm out of time.

General Baskil heard of the destruction of Caledon late that night. Mobilizing his troops, he marched them east along the river to Greenfield, arriving by the middle of the next day. That night, he met with local captains and mayors and hammered out a defense plan - the mining towns around the Ndovlu would be protected by several hundred trained Empire soldiers and archers, who would also maintain a presence inside the mines. Fortifications and barricades would be erected, and defense would be the plan until the armies were ready to strike.


The next day, a message arrived at the palace of the Avatar of Kaz. It read simply,

Holiest Avatar of Kaz,

The Righteous Return contains many devotees, and we feel an alliance would be worthwhile. We can promise to bend the Nephilim in the Jsoulza mountains to our will if you will in turn aid us in our attacks on the goblin hordes plaguing our fair continent.

Hopefully yours,
Commander Harlan of the Righteous Return

"At times discretion should be thrown aside, and with the foolish we should play the fool." - Menander
Drakefyre's Demesne - Happy Happy Joy Joy
Encyclopedia Ermariana - Trapped in the Closet
You can take my Mac when you pry my cold, dead fingers off the mouse!
Posts: 9436 | Registered: Wednesday, September 19 2001 07:00
Law Bringer
Member # 4153
Profile Homepage #219
OoC: Before I begin, I'd like to dedicate this first scene to Dikiyoba. Thanks for the inspiration.



Lerois sat at the edge of the ruins in Kriszan, watching a few crumbled buildings smoulder pathetically. Behind him, he heard the grumbling of the Hunter soldiers who'd been ordered to move the bodies of the slain to a quiet part of town.

He would need peace of mind for the ritual he had been ordered to undertake.

Getting up to follow the last corpse away from the ruins, Lerois readied the spells in his memory. Tygra had ordered a small army of undead, which had initially surprised all of the mages serving under him. Few of them were trained in any form of necromancy (Lerois was one of the few), and there weren't many mages among the Hunters to begin with. But after a speech from Tygra, every aspect of the plan made perfect sense to them. (Lerois couldn't help but admire his leader's charisma, and always thought of him as a truly blessed individual)

A quiet thump marked the arrival of the last corpse, and Lerois settled down into a small wooden chair. The building he'd chosen had been incredibly tranquil before the invasion, much more so than his fearless leader's Garden of Tranquility, which had been ruined and charred in the invasion. The guards exited, and Lerois set to work chanting, making the usual set of hand motions over the dead.

The bodies began to glow with a sickening red light, and white light shone out of closed eyes. The spell was going admirably, and Lerois was excited about being able to report a success to Tygra.

And then, the spell sped up. He hadn't willed it to do so, but the bodies were soon standing up of their own accord, and the first signs of undead-awareness were creeping into their dead, slack faces. One of them let out a sickening wail, as freshly created zombies are so prone to doing, and it echoed off the walls of the damaged building.

Lerois was growing concerned... this shouldn't be happening. He considered cutting the spell short and calling for backup, but he remembered too many stories about leaving dangerous spells such as this unfinished. He'd lost a cousin to a Bolt of Fire which had never been finished. They'd never found the poor guy's left arm.

The light surrounding the undead suddenly changed colors, from a dull red to a bright green, and the zombies' movements grew more erratic. And then, they collapsed, the light in their eyes going out abruptly.

Lerois fell back down into the chair, stunned by the recoil from the failed spell. Something had interrupted the spell, but he couldn't think what. In fact, he felt that he couldn't think about much of anything, because he quickly fell unconscious.

An hour later, the guards found him dead in the building, the bodies gone. A fine layer of dust coated the ground, and a group of small trees had broken through the floor. When Lerois' body was examined in detail by a Hunter coroner, they found his stomach to be stuffed full of leaves.


OoC: Maybe some more later tonight, as I need to develop things back in the archipelago.

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
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The sign read “Inn of the Hairy Eyeball” in faded red paint. The innkeeper was a large man with a crooked nose and missing teeth, both presumably from bar fights. It was no merchant’s inn; situated in a back alley by the docks of Sharimik it was frequented by sailors and the rougher locals. The common room was crowded with such men, driven inside by the constant rain they flocked to the tavern to swap stories, gossip and sometimes punches.

The inn’s history supposedly went back to before the days of the Troglodyte plague. The innkeeper would gladly tell you that some distant relative had established the Hairy Eyeball back in the year 821. That inn had survived the Troglodyte raids, but not the candle of a careless tavern maid, it burned to the ground many years later. This new inn kept the namesake of its predecessor but was considerably newer, although its years of grime and dilapidated condition could easily fool you into thinking you were looking at the original.

General Cyril hadn’t visited such a rough inn since his soldiering days, well before he had donned the white and red cloak of a General of the Enlightened Anama. This cloak was stowed away in his trunk, today the General wished to listen to the common folk. He had taken a seat at a corner table, and now surveyed the room. A nearby drunk’s account of his exploits floated to his ears.

“Aah those mages don’t scare me, they’re a bunch of light weights!” He slams his mug down for emphasis, and spills nearly half of his booze. For a moment he has a forlorn expression, until one of his comrades inquires:

“I suppose you’ve licked one of them in a bar fight eh?”

The other listeners guffaw, the drunk grows defensive: “Nothin of the sort, we all know I’m ah hanarable man, it was a duel we had, reeeeel gentlemanly like.”

More laughter. The drunk takes a swig of ale and decides to elaborate, “I saw that bugger throwsin his dark potions into the well, I did. I walked up to him and I says ‘Look here magic man, youse gotta take your tricks somewhere else, us Sharimik folks want no part of em.”

“And then you woke up.” More knee slapping on the part of his comrades.

“Ser, I’ll won’t be havin you dis’speckin my honor.” The drunk looks ready to throw fists until he is calmed down and urged to continue his tale. He does so after ordering more liquor, “So I saw him right a there at the well. Musta been no more than ten feet from me, and when I a’yells at him he turns real startled like and saysa ‘And whats you gonna do to me, you aint got no fancy magic tricks.’ I said, ‘I got two magic tricks for you right here.’”

He brandishes his fists for emphasis. “This mage looks a little take huh-back, haint seen a man lika me in his fancy school I guess. So I thinks to myself, ‘This be it Jake, if you take ‘im yourself you can stop his scheme, if you call the guards, he’ll get away.’ So I yells out ‘It’s a duel!’ and I charge him!”

The speaker swoons, but then regains his composure. His face is very flushed, and it’s amazing he can even sit up. He swallows a glass of ice water and seems to sober enough to continue “He takes out a’ his bag this big wavey wand. Jus when I’ma bout to slug ‘im, he yells something in demon talk….”

By this point all of the men are listening, one interrupts “And how the hell would you recognize demon talk?”

The drunk looks for the speaker, “I think I’ve heard enuf demons talking to know when I hears demon talk. All the wizardy types speak it for in-cantaloptions. So anyways he flicks this wand, and I went flyin near fifty feet back. Twas a fortunate thing that I landed in a pile of trash, or I’da broken my neck.”

“And I suppose you got back up and licked him good.”

“No, I was knocked out cold, woke up there the next day.”

All the regulars begin roaring laughing, “Fancy that, Jake waking up in a trash heap!”

Cyril paid his tab and exited, smiling. It seemed the commoners were seeing the truth about mages. The drunk’s tale was at least listened to, and no one seemed to eager to defend the mages.. He hustled back to the barracks through the rain. The farmers were upset by the constant downpour, they said it wasn’t natural. “Even the elements can’t stop the forces of the Enlightened Anama,” he thought, “we march for Aminro at dawn, rain or shine.”
OoC- Trying to keep myself busy while everyone kills each other down in Kriszan. I suppose whatever the Dominion’s weather magic is cooking up, constant rain is a good warning sign.

Guaranteed to blow your mind.

Frostbite: Get It While It's...... Hot?
Posts: 900 | Registered: Monday, August 8 2005 07:00
Member # 6670
Profile Homepage #221
On behalf of GoldenKing:

The last of the longboats reach the ships, and after one last volley of cannons, the ships turn about and sail to the southwest. There is no cry or cheer from the defenders of Krizsan. Only silence, broken occasionally by the moans of the wounded. Then, amid the hazy smoke of the burning buildings, a flag is raised. In stark defiance of all the forces set against it, the red-gold eye of the Hunters flies over the city of Krizsan.


Corporal Nellson looked at the horsemen approaching from the south. They would reach his men in a few minutes, and more then doubled his group in numbers. He would have taken horses back in Krizsan, but the dying man who handed him the black chest had told him that the rough ride would set off the traps in the chest. "Find an area we can defend ourselves from," he told his men. He had no doubts about his fate, but he would die bravely, defending the greatest artifact the Hunters owned.


Tygra swept his arm in a broad circle, indicating the destroyed harbour district. Addressing the crowd of townspeople around him, he finally spoke. "Why?" he asked. "Why attack? They did not want our land. They did not want our riches." His voice rose in pitch. "No! They came in, unprovoked, wantonly causing destruction and killing at random!" A calculated pause, then he continued. "Citizens, you all see the danger. There are those out there who would try to reverse the progress of mankind. This was a direct assault on all the Hunters are trying to fight for!" Another pause, then he rose his voice even more. "Shall we stand by, and take no action? Shall we watch our fair cities be destroyed, our children killed, as these attackers tried to do with Krizsan? Shall we watch as the lands we have cleansed become soiled again with lesser men then ours? Or shall we take up arms, and bring the fight to them?" Many of the townspeople began yelling at this. Others maintained a grim, but determined, silence. "I swear to you, as leader of the Hunters, that I will never forget the Battle of Krizsan, and the brave sacrifice our troops have made. I pledge to you that the Hunters will work ceaselessly to defend you people from any other threats. And I make an oath that we will not rest until those who dared to attack us are defeated once and for all!"

A few more words, then Tygra stepped down from the overturned cart. Let the people have a day to stew over that. He would have men placed in the markets, the taverns, the streets to say much the same as he had. By tomorrow, the bannermen would be swamped by all those who wanted revenge against those who had ruined their lives. He walked back to the capitol, mind whirling. He would have to send scouts up north, and begin rebuilding defenses. A few ballistae and catapults could have changed the course of the battle significantly.

Think Hitler, but without a brawl in a beer-hall.
Posts: 1509 | Registered: Tuesday, January 10 2006 08:00
Member # 2339
Profile #222
Jsoulza Mountains

As Hmethrrr approached the campfire, he heard voices.

"I hate sentry duty," said one voice.

"It's not your job to like it, it's your job to do it," another voice responded.

Suddenly, Hmethrrr's ring glowed fiercely and made a loud keening noise.

"WHAT WAS THAT?" a voice said. The Nephilim sentries spotted Hmethrrr and his Twin Guard as the ring was silenced.

"I didn't think it would've gotten hungry again so soon. I hate its feeding time," Hmethrrr mumbled angrily.

"Who are you? What do you want?" One of the sentries said.

"I am Hmethrrr of the Bandits of Bordrao. I have come to propose an alliance between my Bandits and the Nephilim of the Jsoulza mountains. If you know of any sentient beings in the Ndovlu mountains, I would appreciate getting to meet them," Hmethrrr responded.


The Bordrao

Mhthrrr walked around, inspecting the Bordrao below deck. He approached a small porticullis and tapped on a bar. "I assume the Spirit-Binding crystals are still locked up?" he asked.

"Yes, they are. No one else will suffer their curse," said a Nephil guarding the porticullis.

Mhthrrr approved and looked at the room beyond longingly. He moved on to inspect the other enchanted item storage rooms.

-Zephyr Tempest, your personal entertainer
Posts: 1779 | Registered: Monday, December 9 2002 08:00
Member # 6670
Profile Homepage #223
Demetrius looked up as the two Agents entered his temporary rooms in Golddale. He would return to the College soon, but first he had to oversee a few things, before the storm truly began.

He stode up, and walked over to the pair. Brother and sister, he was told, but their talents lay in wildly different areas. "Jakob, Denise, good to see you. I have tasks for both of you." He turned to the man. "Jakob, I want you to gather all the non-magical talented Agents in the North Karnold area. Tell them to contact as many mercenary groups as possible." He waggled a finger. "I don't want any mercenary guilds or the like; only small groups. Contact each separately: each group should think they were the only ones contacted." He turned to the other. "Denise, I want you to get in touch with all the magically talented Agents, especially those proficient in illusion. I wish to know more of what the enemy intends to do. You are to be my eyes and ears in North Karnold." He grinned. "And occasionally, my mouth."

After the two left, Demetrius returned to the reports. Apparently, the Anama would soon have Sharimik well in hand. Still, there was a chance that some groups within Sharimik chafed at Bigail rule. He leaned back, rubbing his hands together slowly. Soon, very soon. The last of the Battlemagi were trickling into Golddale. Soon, the task of 'liberating' North Karnold would begin.

The weather doesn't have to be hurricane force. It's mainly intended as a blockade. If Bigail wants to get troops into Karnold, they'll have to land in Marish, causing fun supply train problems.
Posts: 1509 | Registered: Tuesday, January 10 2006 08:00
Member # 5977
Profile Homepage #224
Early morning. A horse filled to the top with potions had been found. The potions were taken of its back, and devided among the priests and mages. it didn't a long time after that, that the Nephil messenger returned to th camp. mernal spotted him already from far. he smiled and clapped in his hands.

"Guard! Give me two of those healing potions my two spies sent us!"

the Nephil guard walked away, and came back with two small flasks is his hands. he gave them to mernal. The messenger was now quite close to the camp, so Mernal started approaching him. When they finnaly met, Mernal was delighted to see him back. Together they walked back to the camp.

"Sir, they agreed, and gave us 0 arrows of life, and 20 arrows of light. This should help us defend ourselves if we get into contact with undead on the surface or Avernum."

mernal smiled, took the arrows in his hands, and gave the messenger the two healing potions.

"And this is for you, my dear messenger. early in the morning, we recieved a horse, filled to the top with energy and healing potions. My two spies in the south of valorim had sent them."

The messenger seemed very surprised.

"Thanks very much, sir! is there anything I can do for you?"

"Apart from being alert and call for help when you think you see trouble arising at the horizon, you're free to do what you want. Just don't leave the camp."

The messenger nodded. He walked to his sleeping mat, and deposited the potions in his knapsack.

mernal had also returned to his sleeping mat, when he saw that two of the scrolls had writing on them. he quickly read them both. What! hralek was captured by the goblins!? he read on, and quickly felt relieved. At least they handle him with respect. that's at least something. however, this does mean that there might be a small conflict afoot. I shall wait and see.


Sergris was now quite near the castle of this "seeker of knowledge." It was quite beautiful It had several lovely towers and black stones gave the castle an eerie, but majestic look. he took out his paper and broke a twig from a nerby ush, and wrote:

Sergris writing:

Am very close to seeker of knowledge. Live sin castle, very beautiful. Trying to get closer now.

Sergris put away the scroll and threw the twig away. Gathering all his silence and knowledge, he approached the castle, until he was a mere yard from the walls. Nothing seems to be happening. Good. They didn't spot me then, I hope. he ran the lats part to the walls, and started walking arounf the castle, searching for some door or window.

OOC: Aran, is there a door through which my spy can enter?


In the meantime Moternij and Fralsrik had gotten close to Sharimik, but not so close that somebody could actually see them. that would anyway be difficult, given that the two Nephilim were trained spies. The affair in the inn was merely a stupid thing Moternij had done of greed. It had probably taken them an hour to get to this point. On their left hand they could see the curled smoke from houses from an other city. Fralsrik took out his map of Valorim, and studied it.

"That should be Aminro there, at out left, and Sharimik is the big city on our right. This should be the place were the Domion and these Looters have their homeland, or whatever they would like to call it. I guess we say goodbye to each other here, Moternij."

Moternij nodded, and waved Fralsrik good bye while he alked south, to the river. From there he would be heading to the entrance of fort Emergence.

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
Raven v. Writing Desk
Member # 261
Profile Homepage #225
Humans are whiny and sensitive, like babies who have been coddled. A lot of goblins are whiny and sensitive too. But we must try to be better than the humans. We must put up with discomfort, so that we may better slay the evil men.

-- The Great Authoritative Extra Great Guide to Killing, Slaying, Butchering, and Otherwise Disemboweling Humans

Gilgamegob stood on the east bank of the river that separated the swamps from the human lands of eastern Pralgad. He could see houses in the distance; they were just at the outskirts of the heavily settled lands.

His troops were lined up just by the river for several miles. It had taken a while to lug all of their plants and nodules and other pieces of filth across the river; and in darkness, too, for they wanted every advantage they could get, against the vicious humans.

The swamp stuff was packed together in great, rotten, smelly heaps, every hundred feet or so.

"It's time. Give the signal to the rest of the army."

Gilgamegob bent down and kindled a small fire at the foot of his pile of crap. Within a few minutes, the whole heap was starting to burn. Similar fires appeared all the way down the line of goblins.

"This smell is smelly and unbearable! Please, please let me go jump in the river, master!"

Even Gilgamegob was holding his nose. "Enough, Enkigoo. This just means our trick is working, working well. This horrible smell will drive the humanitarians out of their houses, and it will linger, so they won't be back, no they won't."

The mages, who had been experimenting to find out which smelly things burned the smelliest, had come up with a collection whose foul odor lingered for several days before really disappearing. They also assured him that it would spread out to wreak reek at quite a distance. Gilgamegob couldn't be sure his ploy would work. But if it smelled this bad to him, surely it would make weak-nosed humans gag, or vomit, or at least want to get away as fast as they could.

The line of goblins slipped back down in the depression of the river after lighting all of the heaps. They would wait for the smell to rouse the humans. When they left, they would take over their towns, and fortify them, to make it easier to kill the many, many humans who lay beyond.

[ Saturday, April 01, 2006 03:24: Message edited by: Dame Annals ]

Slarty vs. DeskDesk vs. SlartyTimeline of ErmarianG4 Strategy Central
Posts: 3560 | Registered: Wednesday, November 7 2001 08:00