A Keep On The Borderlands: Arrival - Page 30


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    ° Ignore Kaodi
    Brother Comoray looks on with dismay as the wave of frost rolls over Sh'aah. For a moment he considers moving to heal the half-orc, but the best way to take pressure off of him may be to engage the strange beastman himself. Raising his sword, he charges right at the fell minion of Crom Cruach, growling, "Your god no longer holds sway here!"
    -Kaodi

    Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
    Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
    Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
    'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
    But he that filches from me my good name
    Robs me of that which not enriches him
    And makes me poor indeed.

    -Iago, Shakespeare's Othello, Act III. Scene III. Lines 180-186.

 

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    Bastian Sangue, human cavalier

    Bastian grits his teeth and takes another swing. His form and follow through are solid, but he's growing to respect the deft dodging of his opponent.

    ooc
    Ambiguous description, since I'm not sure if this one hits or not:

    Bless High Ground Power Attack Challenge Greatsword attack; damage (1d20+8=18, 2d6+8=12)
    **My most recent fiction is in Viridian Legacy: The Wasting of Duny Slough**

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    ° Ignore ahayford
    Greggory moves in to flank Bastian's opponent.

    Bring down the beast men. The monster is already dead, he just doesn't know it yet.

    ooc
    Move to flank Skurg and single attack
    Total Damage 4x2 + 5 = 13
    Last edited by ahayford; Thursday, 20th September, 2012 at 02:58 AM.

  • #294
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    ° Ignore ahayford
    Greggory blindsides the beast, its eyes focused on the shinning knight in front of him. Greggory quickly stabs his blade in the creatures side, and ducks away quickly. The beast moans and clutches at its side as his lifeblood leaks onto the earth.

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    Comoray's sword swing takes off the head of the strange beastman. As the head and body tumble to the floor the skin falls off like a shrugged-off cloak, revealing a wizened-looking creature inside, with skin like a cross between dark bark and an ÚcorchÚ picture and pointed teeth and ears on the severed head.

    Bastian's sword-blow drives Aarach back, and then Greggory darts in a strikes at a vital point on the giant skurg. It crashes to the floor, dead at last.

    It doesn't take long for Tye's party to clear up the crossbowmen in the keep.

    Finally, Aarach's Skullcrushers are destroyed or routed, and the keep belongs to the Dulat forces.

    OOC

    Comoray - attack B37, 13+5=18, hit for 1d10+3=11 damage, enough to kill it.

    Bastian and Greggory kill Aarach.

    Phew! Finally! I think future large-scale combats, if they occur, will be conducted a bit more abstractedly since that was tough to keep track of. Now it's the matter of clear-up.

    Dulat troops Dead: D6 (Setto), D11 (Alf), D16 (Saxon)
    Dulat troops Dying: D9 (Nerfer), D13 (Dryzen)
    Dulat troops Stable: D1 (Uno), D3 (Trey), D4 (Kwarto), D7 (Setto), D8 (Otto)
    Injured but still up: D14 (Karant), P1 (Janson), P3 (Cassie)
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    ° Ignore Kaodi
    Comoray's exultation is cut short at beheading his foe is cut short by the wonder of the beastman's transformation. But with their foes defeated, he puts it out of his mind for the moment and rushes to stabilize the fallen Dulat troops.

    "Gather up the fallen and the wounded into one place!" he shouts. "Velshionne willing, we can have everyone back on their feet in just a few minutes."
    -Kaodi

    Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
    Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
    Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
    'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
    But he that filches from me my good name
    Robs me of that which not enriches him
    And makes me poor indeed.

    -Iago, Shakespeare's Othello, Act III. Scene III. Lines 180-186.

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    I Defended The Walls!

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    It takes a moment to sink in for Arcata, but as troops spill out onto the roof of the keep, and the leaders of the enemy forces fall, she realizes the battle is won. Brother Comoray's words bring her back from the rush of relief and triumph though, and she dismounts to help with the wounded...moving the ones that can be moved and organizing things so the Brother can focus on doing what he does best.

    One more hill, and the celebration can begin. Just one more.

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    Sh'aah

    Sh'aah grunted in surprise as the magical energies swept over him, and was momentarily caught in memories of years gone by. His lips pulled back into a snarl and he braced to strike as hard as he could.

    Comoray's strike from behind beheaded the creature, the half-orc nodding in thanks slowly in his staggered state. He took a moment to rest, before breaking out in a smile.

    Sh'aah laughed loudly at the beastmen's rout, then spat on the corpse of the fairy creature in front of him and kicking it's head away from the rest of the body. "Tricksy fairy. You lose today," he said to no-one in particular before laughing again. He stopped before long; laughing made his broken ribs ache.

    Fighting the post-battle shakes, Sh'aah walked towards the most capable soldier that fell on the eastern side - the one that felled nearly as many beastmen as he himself. Gathering the soldier's body he carried it to the war-priest's gathering point.

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    Bastian Sangue, human cavalier

    As Greggory moves around behind Bastian's opponent, the cavalier blanches. The one-handed skurg falls, but it's the mounted human who shouts out in shock and outrage. Blood rushing to his face, Bastian moves Bulwark over to Greggory, pointing his gore-covered sword to the man.

    "I called for single combat!" he bellows. "A Lion has honor! He does not backstab a duel!" The Last Lion wheels about on his horse, sword held high as he turns toward his men. "He ..."

    Bastian's righteous indignation falters as his focused rage begins to ebb, and for the first time since he entered into combat with Aarach, he takes in his surroundings again. He looks to the fallen men, and to the wounded doing what they can to carry their comrades to within Cormoray's sphere of influence. His gaze sweeps over the inhuman bodies of the enemy, to the broken and worn out fort around them.

    Finally, his sword falls to his side as his eyes rest on Arcata. Disheveled from the fight, the last noble of House Dulat was shoulder-to-shoulder with commoners, dragging the wounded as if she had never known priviledge.

    Bastian turned back to Greggory, his fury gone and replaces with a shamed humililty. He slid from Bulwark's back, and moved to the penal legion's leader.

    "This is ... not the world I come from," he says softly. "I don't yet know the rules, but I think today's shown me that I have much to learn."

    The horseman pulls his good cloak into one hand, using it to wipe the gore from his blade before returning the broadsword to its sheathe. Then he proffers his hand to Greggory.

    "Thank you for teaching me the first lesson."
    **My most recent fiction is in Viridian Legacy: The Wasting of Duny Slough**

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    Once the wounded are in place, and she can do nothing more for them, Arcata finds her horse and gets back on its back. She trots over to where the soldiers of what was now a House remade...humble as it was...were gathering near Bastian and Brother Comoray. When she starts speaking, her words are musing, conversational...but with enough lung power to carry and be heard over mutters and murmurs.

    "A great man once said that there is no soil more sacred than that which you have bled on," she says, looking around and making eye contact with each man. "It forges a bond. Makes it more than just dirt you stand on."

    She raises her voice a bit, now in full-fledged oratory mode. "For weeks we traveled together, having just one thing in common...a knowledge that we were leaving our pasts behind us, with no sure hope of what was ahead. A hard march, and when we arrived we were greeted not with a warm hearth, soft beds and good food...but with violence, and chaos."

    Her blue eyes glinted as she gave them a proud, steely look. "Now we have bled for this land, and it is ours. And we are its." Arcata flung out a hand to point at the breach in the wall.

    "It doesn't matter what you left behind, or who you were before you stepped through that breach to fight this fight! You are now a lion! A lion of Dulat!"

    Like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, Arcata smiled at them all, steel melting to beneficience. "And you are home."

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