Remnants of the Horde-Flight from Aruth

[doghead]

- At the keep -

As soon as the word is given that they are all pulling out, Tsu'koka strides off through the cold halls, calling for the Marshall Sruka. Together, along with the sergeant, they rouse the remaining Hobgoblins, turning them from beds and stripping the useless tack that soldiers always seem to accumulate, from the trooper's gear. Harsh shouts and sharp blows where necessary have them all assembled and waiting before the hour is up.

As they work Tsu'koka watches and listens. Who are the quick ones, the smart ones, the solid ones? In particular, he watches and sizes up the Marshall and Sargeant. If they have any brains, they will be doing the same to him. Knowing the effect that waiting has a soldiers nerves, Tsu'koka keeps the units busy, getting the hobgoblins out the keep and in position to move off as soon as the rest appear. If nothing else, it gives him a chance to see how well the Marshall handles his troops.

- On the march -

The three remaining direwolf riders ride one flank. There are two few to split them to cover both. And if anything hits them from behind, they can be useful coming in from the side. The scouts can cover the front. The regular troopers he puts at the center with the more seasoned unit behind them to ensure that no one lags.

To Vespazian, he gives what counsel he is asked for. But the troops need as much, if not more, from him. The nervousness of the troops is obvious from the beginning. So Tsu'koka splits his time between Vespazian, as requested, and the small flanking force, and the Marshall with the "main" force. Tsukoka considers drawing on the power of the song to settle the last group. But instead he decides that the mundane marching chant will do well enough. It does.*

- At the portal -

Tsu'koka pulls up alongside Vespazian and the others as they arrive at the portal. He knows little of this type of magick, or mojo as the Muragar would have it. But he moves close enough to be able to make out the inscriptions. The Song Speakers lore is old and extensive, and covers some surprising territory, although he has little expectation of success in this case.**

*OOC: Assuming we're not "sneaking" away under the cover of silence here.
**OOC: Bardic Knowledge check (+ 11), more out of curiosity than anything.

 

[deadestdai]

Vespazian was only a little nervous. Columns of skulls, serpent carvings - he was not afraid of majick, but something about this place kept him on edge. He urged his nervous mount up to the ugly dwarf. Some haste is required here wizard. My troops are becoming testy enough with the enemy fast arriving at our rear. The Captain's pet, Rat squeeked along with the commander's final words, leering at the ugly dwarf from his shoulder adding it's accordance and receiving a caring stroke between it's ears.

 

[Uriel]

Although it tales the Hag-Born almost five nerve-wracking minutes, he finally steps back, a satisfied smirk upon his face and gestures at the Columns with an after you hand movement to Vespazian.

At first, nothing is evident in the device. Then, a hazy field becomes noticable as the broefest of shimmering. Forlash throws a rock into the space between the Columns, which promptly disappears.
Turning to the others, he says 'Now, this Portal has three possible end-points. One is near Castle Zuregath, one further North and the third, I am not sure about.SOmething tells me that it is a flawed location, meaning at the very best you can expect, it is a one-way ride, at the worst... Regardless, it is important to visualize Castle Zuregath as you step through, lest you end up somewhere that you didn't intend to be.'
Forlash shakes his head at this course. The Portals that his Mother used were so much more refined.This thing was like trying to ride an insane Nag in a horse race.


In the near distance, flying shapes have become visable,pointed out by excited Hobgoblins.
A moment later, the sound of calvary can be heard very close indeed, pounding down from perhaps several hundred yards away.

OoC:You have about a half a minute before this becomes a big melee.

 

[Capellan]

Wekerak shrugs his bony shoulders. Any death is better than at the hands of elves.

The goblin spurs Frostbite forward, racing toward the gate. As he plunges toward the haze, he does his best to conjure all his memories of Zuregath's castle, and the wolf-pits at its base: the darkness, the crunch of bones underfoot, the ever-present stink of wet fur, and the distant cries of the prisoners. Welcome memories, all.

"I'll scout it out, Cap'n!" he cackles as he rides through.

 

[Velenne]

Durgo returns to the rear when the wizard is finished, his brow furrowed in thought. He doesn't understand it enough himself, much less is he confident that the other Muragar could comprehend what is asked of them.

"Come to Durgo," he says, stopping at their tiny rank. An image has now affixed itself in his mind: They day the Horde marched from the Castle gates, arrayed as they were in legions by the thousand. The landscape had been blanketed with a seething mass of ravenous flesh and blades, chaos held at bay by the implacable will of Zuregath himself. Durgo does his best to relay the image (sans the armies of course) to the other Muragar. Bargo, he is sure, was not even paying full attention. Unwilling to part with any troops, he takes his bastard son by the scruff and repeats the simple image of Castle Zuregath over and over as they approach the portal.

Giving the mojo-Gate one final mistrustful look, Durgo steps through with Bargo in tow.

"We go."

 

[doghead]

Turning to the units he yells, "If you want to see Castle Zuregath again, you focus on to the image of it for all you are worth."

"Marshall! Get the troopers through that portal! Go!"

Even as the last words are begin said Tsu'koka is wheeling blood around and kicking the great beast into a run towards the Direwolf riders returning from the flank. As he rides, he casts his eyes over the hills that still hide the cavalry that they can all hear pounding towards them. For an instant, he considers swinging the riders around to hit the eleves from the side. The direwolves would wreak havoc amoung the horses. It would give them some time. But the Owl riders and their magic ... no it would be pointless.

Meeting the direwolf riders half way, he races back with them towards the portal, yelling instructions.

"Ride through the portal! Keep the image of the castle in you mind, and you will get there! Remember, keep it in mind!"

As they sweep back, Tsu'koka recalls the dire castle. "Remember. Its mighty walls and towering ramparts" ... looming over the blasted countryside ... "Its great halls, massive barracks and huge kitchens" ... weeping stones dimly lit with flickering lights ... The great lords and captains, the battle banners and trophies" ...the stink of jealousy, ambition, fear and cruelty that hangs thick on the air ...

 

[Uriel]

OoC:I am going to assume that everyone is heading through...

IC

Stepping through you are caught momentarily in a pain the likes of which none has before, save perhaps that moment when you were born screaming and writhing into a cruel and brutal World. That pain passes in mere seconds, replaced by a bitter cold as you are buffeted by strong winds bearing the smell of death and fire.

Home

Standing upon a plateau overlooking a barren valley, you gaze at the far-off sight of Castle Zuregath, perhaps two miles away, a black dot upon the side of a volcano. Blooms of color signify sorcery and,even at this distance, you can see little ants moving about it's base and up and down the slope around the castle.
There is battle underway at the Castle.

Wekerak quickly spurs Frostbite forward,motioning to Blaught as well. The two Hobgoblin Calvary fall in alongside the Goblins on the scouting run, in case things go badly.

Durgo,Kurg and Bargo all breathe a sigh of relief. The stink of perfumed elves was nowhere in evidence, replaced by the familiar smell of sulpher and ash.
Forlash, though unaccustomed to this place, notes with interest that whoever established the Castle chose a good location, as the fires of the Volcano were doubtless excellent for the forging of Items of Power.
Vespazian greets the sight of the castle with mxed feelings. Being away from the blasted border keep was refreshing, yet somewhere ahead was the treacherous Spider who had sent him there...

Taking stock, it seemed that all but one Hobgoblin Trooper had made it through the Portal intact. Doubtless, that fool was even now wandering in some other part of Myrach, or perhaps he had been shot by the arrow of some advance elf, dallying before entering the Portal.


************************************************************

Cruga looked about him, confused. He had been with the others and was thinking about a welcome return to the Castle.Then, his mind wandered back to the fact that the other idiots at the Keep had completely forgot about the Behir... Entering Urcar's Lair, Cruga had found a wealth of the choicest loot, his pockets quickly filled with jewels and rings, his rucksack filled with all manner of treasure. Smiling to himself, his eyes finally focused upon his surroundings...
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The Feeder salivated at what it saw before it. Such a juicy Soul, so rich with wonder and fear. Long had it been since It had fed on those from the Material World. It would savor this tasty windfall for a century...
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Cruga stopped,seeing what appeared to be endless tunnels of ...webbing running in evey direction. He looked to be in a...jewels fell from limp fingers ans the *thud* of his shield resounded as a quiet echo through web-filled tunnels.All around him, Cruga saw dark forms wrapped in webbing,still and dissicated forms both small and inpossibly large. Was that a Dragon!?!
Running forward, stumbling along, Cruga looked furtively left and right.he had heard something moving, had he not? Then, an overhead strand of webbing shifted.
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The Hobgoblin's screams of panic and dread lasted much longer than any hapless Soul deserved.The Feeder fed well for the first time in a very long time...



OoC
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