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Anka Seth - The Rise of the Hydra (New Update April 19, 2007)
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<blockquote data-quote="Fiasco" data-source="post: 2819523" data-attributes="member: 15187"><p>One of Yorath’s requirements of his gladiators was that they master a ranged weapon. Combatants in the games could begin as far as one hundred feet apart, and the Baron felt that the team that peppered their foes with missiles while they sought to close for melee had a distinct advantage. It became the habit of the Hydra to gather together in the late afternoon and spend a leisurely hour loosing various missiles at the target butts. The range was located towards the rear of the castle, which overlooked the ocean from the top of a rocky cliff. The cool sea breeze that caressed their weary bodies was a pleasant tonic for the aches and pains of the day’s work. Most of the companions favoured the light style of crossbow used by Mortec with even Moxadder temporarily put aside his obsession with daggers to master this weapon. The only exceptions were Morgan, who used a bow and Stravarius, who had unearthed a crossbow of prodigious size from the bowels of the Baron’s armoury. This nightmare contraption took all of his considerable strength to wind back and the bolts it launched passed right through the target more often than not. </p><p></p><p>It was thus they were occupied some three weeks after their arrival when Argonne spotted red sails gliding silently towards them across the gently rolling sea. They came straight from the heart of the setting sun as it sank beneath the waves, like the spec of darkness in the centre of a candle’s flame. Argonne blinked the haze from his eyes and counted them; one, two, three… six in all. </p><p></p><p>“Red sails on t’ ocean!” he cried, “And ah think they ma’ht be pirates”.</p><p>The woodsman’s alert galvanised the party to action. The distincitve red sails left no question in their minds that the perpetrators of the sack of Ravenswood had returned. The Hydra had often discussed the evils committed upon the innocent village and each of them was eager to exact a bloody vengeance on the raiders. Grabbing whatever weapons were at hand, they ran at a crouch to the cliff’s edge, trying not to betray their presence to the attackers. They took positions around the narrow fissure that had been carved into stairs that joined the top of the cliff with the small jetty at its foot. Seeing there was still a little time before the ships arrived, Gerard ran to the barracks where the other gladiatorial companies were billeted. In the rooms belonging to Five Kinds of Death, he found several of its members studying their arcane disciplines. </p><p></p><p>Gasping for air, he informed them of the suspected pirate attack. A cowled head nodded at him in acknowledgement and the mages began to gather up those mystical components which were a vital adjunct to their craft. Moving on, Gerard spied several members of the Massive Hand returning to their quarters and urged them also towards the cliffs. With the hulking bodies of several of these stout warrior at his heels, he ran to rejoin his companions.</p><p></p><p>In the mean time, the other members of the fledgling gladiatorial company had concealed themselves as best they could along the edge of the precipice. The pirates were headed directly for the dock below them at the base of the cliff. They clutched their weapons nervously and watched the progress of the Blood Sails. The six ships were little more than boats in reality, barely having room for a dozen pirates each. The hulls were clinker built and rigged with a simple square sail. They had moved a little apart as some crews made better use of the evening breeze than others. Rowers augmented the work of the wind. Four to a side, they made only the faintest whisper of noise as they bent their backs to the oars. Their strokes were precise and unhurried, secure in the delusion they were unobserved. </p><p></p><p>The pirates themselves were difficlut to make out in the gloom. They appeared simply dressed, with only the glint of their weapons providing any highlights. They appeared rough and unruly, though each attended to his task with economical precision. The Hydra looked at each other uncertainly. They had grown accustomed to either Bastien or one of their instructors giving them orders and found the responsibility of determining their own course of action daunting. At present there was little to decide in any case, for the pirates were still out of range of their bows. </p><p></p><p>The arrival of Gerard with the other gladiatorial companies was a welcome balm to their frayed nerves. The more experienced companies were a composed counterpoint to the young companions. The wizards ranged themselves near the stairs and began to chant arcane phrases to the accompaniment of flexed arms and curled fingers. Their long dark robes flared dramatically behind them, pushed back by the sea breeze. Their vestments were adorned with strange astrological symbols incomprehensible to the untutored eyes of the others, yet conveying a sense of danger to them all the same. </p><p></p><p>The Massive Hand were more straight forward in their preparation. Zmrat, their leader told the Hydra to hold their position at the top of the cliffs. The narrow stairs cut into the rock face would slow the raiders, allowing the Baron’s men to subject the raiders to a withering hail of missiles if they sought the summit. Carefully sheathing the heavy weapons they’d held in hand, the Massive Hand readied their bows and crossbows in anticipation. The Hydra’s racing emotions settled a little now they had such potent reinforcements. The sharp sighted Argonne murmured to the others that it seemed the pirates had yet to notice the nasty reception that awaited them. Concentrating on maintaining stealth and picking their way through shallow water, they had not seen the scurrying figures of the Baron’s men in the fading light.</p><p></p><p>Despite exhortations for calm from Zmrat, the composure of the Hydra proved unequal to the task of awaiting the optimum time to strike. Almost as one, they loosed their bolts and arrows as soon as the lead boat fell within range. The undisciplined discharge plunged uselessly into the water or cartwheeled whirring off the side of the vessel. The pirates gave shouts of alarm, but apart from ducking lower in their boats, they did not deviate from their mission. </p><p></p><p>The wizard Emble glared at the companions before beginning to recite a complex series of syllables in a guttural voice. The Hydra loosed several more volleys, also without success. Though the range closed, the light failed completely as the last of the sun expired beneath the horizon. The sound of chanting filled the darkness as the sorcerers continued their work. Suddenly, the area near the pier was bathed in ethereal light, throwing the boats and crew in stark contrast to the night blackened water. The strain on the pirates faces was clearly visible in the pallor of their faces as they arched their backs to the final strokes that would bring them to the pier. Many died before they got there as the Massive Hand released their shafts to telling effect.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Fiasco, post: 2819523, member: 15187"] One of Yorath’s requirements of his gladiators was that they master a ranged weapon. Combatants in the games could begin as far as one hundred feet apart, and the Baron felt that the team that peppered their foes with missiles while they sought to close for melee had a distinct advantage. It became the habit of the Hydra to gather together in the late afternoon and spend a leisurely hour loosing various missiles at the target butts. The range was located towards the rear of the castle, which overlooked the ocean from the top of a rocky cliff. The cool sea breeze that caressed their weary bodies was a pleasant tonic for the aches and pains of the day’s work. Most of the companions favoured the light style of crossbow used by Mortec with even Moxadder temporarily put aside his obsession with daggers to master this weapon. The only exceptions were Morgan, who used a bow and Stravarius, who had unearthed a crossbow of prodigious size from the bowels of the Baron’s armoury. This nightmare contraption took all of his considerable strength to wind back and the bolts it launched passed right through the target more often than not. It was thus they were occupied some three weeks after their arrival when Argonne spotted red sails gliding silently towards them across the gently rolling sea. They came straight from the heart of the setting sun as it sank beneath the waves, like the spec of darkness in the centre of a candle’s flame. Argonne blinked the haze from his eyes and counted them; one, two, three… six in all. “Red sails on t’ ocean!” he cried, “And ah think they ma’ht be pirates”. The woodsman’s alert galvanised the party to action. The distincitve red sails left no question in their minds that the perpetrators of the sack of Ravenswood had returned. The Hydra had often discussed the evils committed upon the innocent village and each of them was eager to exact a bloody vengeance on the raiders. Grabbing whatever weapons were at hand, they ran at a crouch to the cliff’s edge, trying not to betray their presence to the attackers. They took positions around the narrow fissure that had been carved into stairs that joined the top of the cliff with the small jetty at its foot. Seeing there was still a little time before the ships arrived, Gerard ran to the barracks where the other gladiatorial companies were billeted. In the rooms belonging to Five Kinds of Death, he found several of its members studying their arcane disciplines. Gasping for air, he informed them of the suspected pirate attack. A cowled head nodded at him in acknowledgement and the mages began to gather up those mystical components which were a vital adjunct to their craft. Moving on, Gerard spied several members of the Massive Hand returning to their quarters and urged them also towards the cliffs. With the hulking bodies of several of these stout warrior at his heels, he ran to rejoin his companions. In the mean time, the other members of the fledgling gladiatorial company had concealed themselves as best they could along the edge of the precipice. The pirates were headed directly for the dock below them at the base of the cliff. They clutched their weapons nervously and watched the progress of the Blood Sails. The six ships were little more than boats in reality, barely having room for a dozen pirates each. The hulls were clinker built and rigged with a simple square sail. They had moved a little apart as some crews made better use of the evening breeze than others. Rowers augmented the work of the wind. Four to a side, they made only the faintest whisper of noise as they bent their backs to the oars. Their strokes were precise and unhurried, secure in the delusion they were unobserved. The pirates themselves were difficlut to make out in the gloom. They appeared simply dressed, with only the glint of their weapons providing any highlights. They appeared rough and unruly, though each attended to his task with economical precision. The Hydra looked at each other uncertainly. They had grown accustomed to either Bastien or one of their instructors giving them orders and found the responsibility of determining their own course of action daunting. At present there was little to decide in any case, for the pirates were still out of range of their bows. The arrival of Gerard with the other gladiatorial companies was a welcome balm to their frayed nerves. The more experienced companies were a composed counterpoint to the young companions. The wizards ranged themselves near the stairs and began to chant arcane phrases to the accompaniment of flexed arms and curled fingers. Their long dark robes flared dramatically behind them, pushed back by the sea breeze. Their vestments were adorned with strange astrological symbols incomprehensible to the untutored eyes of the others, yet conveying a sense of danger to them all the same. The Massive Hand were more straight forward in their preparation. Zmrat, their leader told the Hydra to hold their position at the top of the cliffs. The narrow stairs cut into the rock face would slow the raiders, allowing the Baron’s men to subject the raiders to a withering hail of missiles if they sought the summit. Carefully sheathing the heavy weapons they’d held in hand, the Massive Hand readied their bows and crossbows in anticipation. The Hydra’s racing emotions settled a little now they had such potent reinforcements. The sharp sighted Argonne murmured to the others that it seemed the pirates had yet to notice the nasty reception that awaited them. Concentrating on maintaining stealth and picking their way through shallow water, they had not seen the scurrying figures of the Baron’s men in the fading light. Despite exhortations for calm from Zmrat, the composure of the Hydra proved unequal to the task of awaiting the optimum time to strike. Almost as one, they loosed their bolts and arrows as soon as the lead boat fell within range. The undisciplined discharge plunged uselessly into the water or cartwheeled whirring off the side of the vessel. The pirates gave shouts of alarm, but apart from ducking lower in their boats, they did not deviate from their mission. The wizard Emble glared at the companions before beginning to recite a complex series of syllables in a guttural voice. The Hydra loosed several more volleys, also without success. Though the range closed, the light failed completely as the last of the sun expired beneath the horizon. The sound of chanting filled the darkness as the sorcerers continued their work. Suddenly, the area near the pier was bathed in ethereal light, throwing the boats and crew in stark contrast to the night blackened water. The strain on the pirates faces was clearly visible in the pallor of their faces as they arched their backs to the final strokes that would bring them to the pier. Many died before they got there as the Massive Hand released their shafts to telling effect. [/QUOTE]
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Anka Seth - The Rise of the Hydra (New Update April 19, 2007)
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