Siege Of Bordrin's Watch

EvolutionKB

First Post
Wendigo stood in line as patient as he could. The two days he spent in the city made it hard. He had busied himself around the cathedral as was needed, but he found the priesthood had found him more a nuisance than help. Whispered rumors of his background, and his devotion to Moradin reached his keen ears. Why did they treat him so, he was a child of Moradin too!

Finally the shifter reached the scribes and he spoke. "Wendigo, Monk of the Monastery of the Sundered Chain."
 

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The Digger

First Post
Henry waited silently until Tregar had made his pledge and then he stepped forward, a prayer to kord in his heart.

"I am Henry Butcher, fighter, and I am a veteran of many a stiff fight. You may have heard of me, that I had abjured fighting, but Father John at the Temple of Kord has absolved me of my oath."

He nodded at Tregar "And I carry a halberd new-forged in the sight of Moradin. So I fight in the name of two Gods. I will not fail you."

======================================================

Tresa waited patiently in line. Her head still a little fuzzy after that night at the Salty Mug. She looked around for her drinking partners from that night but could only see the one named Chris. As yet there was no sign of Gloomblade and the drow whose name she still couldn't pronounce - too many c's and K's and ch's.

Then it was her turn. "I am Tresa, a sister of the order of Pelor. I come to offer my services in whatever place or manner you see fit. I can heal as well as smite the evil-doer..." She laid her hand on her hammer and smiled "... with a speciality in orcs!"
 

Kobold Stew

Last Guy in the Airlock
Supporter
The two days Gala had spent with a dwarven constable she had found near the Cathedral, taking him to where the body lay, and providing some information about the bodies. "There have been a few bodies like this recently -- taken, murdered, and left for the birds," she had been told. "We appreciate your cooperation, but there's nothing we need you for at this time. There are bigger problems right now." The constable's dismissal frustrated her, but this wasn't her fight.

Her fight was coming, however.

Following the announcement of Elder Cadrick, Gala had stood immediately, ready to volunteer. Many others pushed ahead of her, however, and by the time she offered her name, the scribe had several sheets of parchment beside him.
"My name is Galatea. I speak for the land that these creatures have befouled. I am called as its protector, and I intend to fight them with all of my strength. This invasion has taken from me my home. The orcs have killed my mate, and my offspring. They have taken my life from me, and now all that remains is my need to drive them back.

She speaks slightly too quickly, perhaps, and her thoughts run together. But her sincerity is clear to all who listen.
 

Insight

Adventurer
"We ask that each of you who are submitting yourselves to this task, come forward one at a time through the lines and give your name and your profession to the scribes. I need to know exactly who is still interested in this campaign, so that I can assign the players as I need and see fit. If you do not reiterate your intention to participate, I will assume you have changed your mind. There is no shame in this... everyone has duties outside of this campaign that might take up too much of your time... so please only give us your name if you really want to participate and see this battle through. Thank you."

And with that, Cadrick returns to his high-backed chair and sits down. And one by one, each character comes forward to state his or her intention.

Gloomblade, a stranger to this place but certainly not to the brutality and savage ways of the Orcish side of his family tree, watched as many natives and strangers alike took turns standing forward and announcing themselves to Elder Cadrick and the rest. The Half-Orc ex-convict wasn't sure he would actually present himself to the militia; hell, he wasn't sure he would even stay in Overlook for more than another day or so, especially if the rumored Orc invasion came to pass.

As Gloomblade watched, however, the mass of brave souls, some worthy of battle and some inexperienced and sure for an early grave, took its toll on Gloomblade's reticence.

He looked around to see Tresa, the kindly maiden who had taken it upon herself to aid the Half-Orc in his hour of need. Gloomblade had meant to find her and thank her for her aid, and perhaps get to know her a bit better.

The Digger said:
Tresa waited patiently in line. Her head still a little fuzzy after that night at the Salty Mug. She looked around for her drinking partners from that night but could only see the one named Chris. As yet there was no sign of Gloomblade and the drow whose name she still couldn't pronounce - too many c's and K's and ch's.

Gloomblade, warmed by seeing the priestess, was about to step forward when --

"I am Tresa, a sister of the order of Pelor. I come to offer my services in whatever place or manner you see fit. I can heal as well as smite the evil-doer..." She laid her hand on her hammer and smiled "... with a speciality in orcs!"

Tresa flashed a look towards Gloomblade, though he wasn't sure she had really seen him. He had to wonder if that comment was meant for him. No, that's impossible. Well, better to be sure.

Gloomblade, dressed in black leather armor, armed with a shortsword at his side, stepped forward. "Gloomblade," he said matter-of-factly. "As a half-breed o' these invadin' Orcs, I can tell ya I know their cursed ways. To tell the truth, I know a trick or two meself. I figger I can help yer town. I can handle meself in a scrap. I been... well, I won't bore ya with me own war stories, but I been in some bad places. I ain't sure an invasion is any worse that what I been through afore I got to yer town."

Gloomblade took another tentative step forward, flashing a mincemeat smile to Tresa, wondering if she was friend or foe. "I ain't got nuthin' ta lose," he added. "Man with nuthin' ta lose is a dangerous feller. That's gotta count fer sumthin'."
 

stonegod

Spawn of Khyber/LEB Judge
"I ain't got nuthin' ta lose," he added. "Man with nuthin' ta lose is a dangerous feller. That's gotta count fer sumthin'."
One always has something to loose, dear halfork. The booming voice came from the side of the hall, the Prisoner's Entrance during special trials. The sound of chains followed and attached to those was the so called `Liberator of Overlook.' Even in chains, he kept his head hight. Flanked by two stoic guards, the halfelf made the short distance to the tables a processional.

Life is the one true possession we have. Freedom may taken from you, your body itself left in nothing but chains. You loves, your family, your friends may all have been taken from you, but your life, and with it your ability to fight for it, is the truest possession of all.

Standing in front of the scribes, the handsome halfelf strikes a heroic pose. He holds up the chains so all can see. I am Dorn Tirae, Son of Overlook. And though I be held in these chains, only I am the free one here. For I choose to give this that is my life for all the people of Overlook. Freedom and Victory!
 

RavenBlackthorne

First Post
AltheaKalvinOrdonRelusAzyth...(Akora), Deva Shaman

Stirred by the passion in the half elf’s voice, Althea rose to her feet. Almost simultaneously, she watched the spirit of Kalvin materialize next to her. As she reached her full height, her lips moved, synchronized with that of her former self.
“I am Akora, deva reincarnated. I have obviously been sent here for a higher reason and this must be it. I, and my spirit guides of previous lives, shall stand beside you.”
And maybe I can piece together some of these damn memories
Kalvin merely smiled.
 

The Digger

First Post
Tresa pushed through the throng to stand before Gloomblade and stare up into his eyes. "I see a question in your eyes. Rest assured that I do not class you amongst the evildoers...yet!" she added, a mischievous tone in her voice and a twinkle in her eyes.

"Come, let us sit and wait for the conclusion of the Calling. We can tell each other our stories."
 

Insight

Adventurer
Tresa pushed through the throng to stand before Gloomblade and stare up into his eyes. "I see a question in your eyes. Rest assured that I do not class you amongst the evildoers...yet!" she added, a mischievous tone in her voice and a twinkle in her eyes.

"Come, let us sit and wait for the conclusion of the Calling. We can tell each other our stories."

Gloomblade, with a look once more to the elder, sat down with Tresa. "I would tell you much," he said. "Much that might turn yer stomach if yer not careful. I been though a lot. Woke up one day and I was at sub saan prison. How's that fer a good mornin'?"

The Half-Orc looked at Tresa for a reaction. If she was anything like the evangelists and prison prophets he'd met in Sub Saan, it would take more than a passing reference to make her understand.
 
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DEFCON 1

Legend
Supporter
The men and women all come forward one at a time and give their names to the scribes, who take them down quickly and efficiently. These sheets gets passed on to Maul and Forgeheart, who move around to the far side of the dais and begin setting up organizations and plans.

What is interesting to many folks is that not only are there singles and paired volunteers, but also several full adventuring parties and mercenary companies, giving their services at a whole. A group known to many in Overlook called the Farstriders stands off to one side, obviously held in a different status than most of the ragtag volunteers. Occasionally, as Forgeheart comes back around the dais to get more names, the Farstrider leader, a mercenary captain named Edgar Sommerfield, steps up to speak to the priest and militia captain. Numerous times you can see Sommerfield speak intently (if not angrily) to the captain, and even one time go so far as mount the steps of the dais to speak to Elder Cadrick himself. Cadrick responds to Sommerfield's incessant tones with a placating nod and gesture, and finally Sommerfield returns to his group satisfied.

Another few hours go by, with all volunteers allowed to come and go to grab meals or rests as they see fit. Planning and organization on this kind of scale, involving people without necessarily formal military training, is not something that they rush into. However, finally, several hours into everything, Elder Cadrick meets with Forgeheart, Maul, and several other military men, women, and the others in the council. Cadrick is shown a large parchment, a quick discussion is made, and the elder nods and then strides back up to the top of the dais. He raises his hand for notification, and many volunteers rush back into High Hall from where they had wandered off elsewhere.

"I want to thank you all for the time and energy you have put into this campaign already. Your efforts have been spectacular, and it's been a pleasure to have so many fine men and women to choose from. However, we have made some final decisions on things, and have assigned people as needed. Once again, thank you for your commitment thus far."

"The main thrust of the orc army will of course be coming up into the mountains through Bordrin's Watch. Durkik Forgeheart will lead the militias and most of you to bolster Bordrin's Watch itself. However, we have receive intelligence that tells us that orc trailblazers have also come through the mountains at various points, and specialized groups will be assigned to them. We've tasked the security of the Vents to Sergeant Sommerfield and his Farstriders. We also received word from a Brother at the Monastery of the Sundered Chain that orcs have come up through the tunnels there as well. This is the battle to which I need to assign a party of stout men and women."


Elder Cadrick takes a few steps down the stairs and motions off to the right, where Captain Maul is standing next to the shifter monk, Wendigo.

"Brother Wendigo, you will lead a small cadre of personnel back to your home and deal with the orc overrun there. Joining him will be the following individuals... Tregar, the dwarf invoker of Moradin; Henry Butcher, human polearm fighter; Gloomblade the Wanderer, halfork scoundrel rogue; Galatea, the elf predator druid; and the Speaker of Truths, Dorn Tirae, the halfelf bard. Each of you please go attend Captain Maul and Brother Wendigo, and prepare to move out."

"For the rest of you... please check in once you arrive to Bordrin's Watch to see if another campaign has cropped up and are looking for other volunteers. There may be... I am not sure yet if we have a Master who has anything planned. If not... I give my blessings to you for your future endeavors. Once again, my utmost thanks."


Cadrick returns to his seat, and Forgeheart, Maul, and Sommerfield each begin getting their respective members together to get started.
 
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Kobold Stew

Last Guy in the Airlock
Supporter
As Gala looks around at the volunteers, she is surprised to see that disappointment rests on so many faces. This is a noble fight, and I am privileged to have been selected. There is noise protests, outbursts, and tears -- tears which come from those not selected, but perhaps also from those chosen.

She approaches Wendigo and Maul, amidst the small gathering crowd. She is silent, and, frankly, somewhat nervous. "My Lords," she states, plainly, her eyes bowed. She pulls at her hair with her fingers, as she awaits her orders.

She is uncomfortable in this body. She can't wait to get into her true form, the form that the land has given her for this mission.
 

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