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The Fall of Civilization
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 4794825" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>Outside of the walls of Fandelose, the Six-Fingered Hand has erected a great field of poles, from which dangle living but eviscerated people. Their moans of torment do not reach the wall unless the wind is with them; if they were that close, the archers of Fandelose could put them out of their misery. </p><p></p><p>Periodically, amongst the various things that the Hand’s siege engines hurl, there will be rotting corpses, full of disease- an attempt to crush the spirit of the city and force its capitulation. But between Torinn and Yabin, the city’s ritualist, any outbreaks are swiftly brought under control.</p><p></p><p>Month after month, the defenders hold. The rice fields on the plateau that was once covered by the estates of the aristocracy serve their purpose admirably. The people of Fandelose eat, and though they are cut off from the outside, the frequency of Hand attacks tapers off as their tactics switch to an attempt to starve them out.</p><p></p><p>The siege moves into its third year. By mid-winter, it seems that the besiegers are suffering more deprivation than are the besieged. Between the rice fields and diverted mountain runoff water, Fandelose is well-equipped for its people to eat and drink- and, if their diet might not have the variety to which the citizens were previously accustomed, at least their bellies are full.</p><p></p><p>A surreal sort of sense of the everyday has evolved. The siege almost feels normal. Everyone knows there is extreme danger at every moment, yet the defenders have so far been so adroit in their defense that they have taken few losses- and inflicted thousands of wounded and dead on the horde of the Six-Fingered Hand. Such success lulls the citizens into a sense of inevitable victory. Between General Argos and his officers, many people think, the war is practically won.</p><p></p><p>The passage of years necessitates that life go on. Babies are born, old men and women die (and not from arrow or sword). Men woo their would-be ladies.</p><p></p><p>Vann-La finds herself the unexpected subject of such attention, but it’s only logical. He is a Kree, and she hasn’t seen another of her type in... well, in years. Lar-Gonn is one of the sergeants in the company she commanded at the very beginning, outside of the walls. He writes her Elven poetry and brings her gifts both subtle and attractive.</p><p></p><p>Slowly, over the last couple of years, the two of them have been circling each other, courting. They have kissed, but nothing else, for an Elven courtship is a slow, languid and- ultimately, at its consummation- torrid affair. But slowly, slowly, they dance the Elven dance, circling and swaying in and out of each others’ reach.</p><p></p><p>The best gift? He taught her the secret techniques of the Kree battle dance.*</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>For bravery, and for saving the lives of many of his men, Torinn is awarded with both a Copper Star and a Scarlet Heart. Furthermore, he is promoted to Major. </p><p></p><p>“I’m the ranking officer of us, now!” he crows to his friends later. </p><p></p><p>“Great,” mutters Ligir. </p><p></p><p>“You’ve got a nickname, too,” Loridell says. “The Dragon.”</p><p></p><p>“Yeah, that’s really gotten around among the men,” agrees Kratos. “I’ve heard a lot of soldiers that don’t know you refer to you as ‘the Dragon’, as well.”</p><p></p><p>The cleric looks bemused. “All right. The Dragon. I can live with that.”</p><p></p><p>“There’s something else, too,” Heimall adds. “Come on.” </p><p></p><p>He walks them to a courtyard, where a half-finished, life-sized marble statue of Torinn sits. “Commissioned,” he states, “by some of those same soldiers.” He claps Torinn on the arm.</p><p></p><p><em>Wow,</em> thinks the dragonborn. <em>I wonder if this is how Lester felt in his early days, when he was just a mortal adventurer. Was there some group that he helped save that built the first statue of him, that recognized the spark of his divinity?</em> He holds his gaze on the statue, beaming. <em>The only dragonborn in the city, and I’m a local hero already!</em> </p><p></p><p>Of course, “already” is after three years of siege. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The dead of night. Sound asleep, taking some much-needed rest, deep in his dreamscape. </p><p></p><p>A sudden shaking of the shoulder, and Kratos comes awake.</p><p></p><p>“Sir!” the messenger is saying. “Colonel Jaxe needs you, immediately!”</p><p></p><p>The warlord scrambles up from his bed with a grunt. “I’ll be there momentarily,” he says groggily, and begins pulling his uniform on. A glance to the window- “What time is it?”</p><p></p><p>“About two past midnight, sir.”</p><p></p><p>Another grunt as he pulls his boots on, then, “Lead on.”</p><p></p><p>Kratos follows the lad, who cannot be more than eleven, and swiftly they come to Colonel Jaxe’s office. Kratos cocks an eyebrow when he enters, for several of his friends are also present, clearly dragged out of bed. Vann-La, Torinn, Heimall and Ligir all nod their greetings, as does Colonel Jaxe. A young corporal who doesn’t quite fill his uniform is in the room as well. </p><p></p><p>”I’ll get right to it,” the colonel says without preamble. “They have miners and sappers hard at work, digging down below the city to try to undermine the walls. We have countermined them, and our tunnel will be meeting theirs before long. I need you to go in there are kill them, then collapse their tunnel so they can’t continue to use it. It’s a tunnel- it’s not really suited for a large group. We want a quick strike so that we can collapse their tunnel before they can summon reinforcements. You’ll have an engineer, Corporal Lonny, with you.” Jaxe gestures at the other young man present.</p><p></p><p>“How do you know where they are?” Vann-La asks. </p><p></p><p>Colonel Jaxe allows himself a small smile. “Fandelose is home to the high priest of a god named Hamel. The high priest and Yabin, the city’s ritualist, have worked together to develop certain ritual prayers to Hamel that tie the High Civilizer into the city. He sensed the disturbance coming through the earth.”</p><p></p><p>“All right,” Heimall says. “It sounds as though time is of the essence. Let’s go.”</p><p></p><p>They troop out, Lonny in the lead. Torinn is somewhat discomfited to note that the lad is obviously nervous around the party; clearly, their exploits in the defense of the city have made them all larger than life figures.</p><p></p><p>“Listen,” says Ligir, “when the bad guys show up, just stay behind us and shoot your crossbow.”</p><p></p><p>“Well- I don’t have one, you see.”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, what do you have?”</p><p></p><p>“A dagger. I’m not really supposed to fight. I’m here to help with the engineering.”</p><p></p><p>“Okay, well, you just stay back, but if an enemy comes near, try to stab it.”</p><p></p><p>“All right.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, except for me. Stay in front of me, but behind them.”</p><p></p><p>“Why-“</p><p></p><p>“Because I’m the wizard,” Iggy explains. </p><p></p><p>That doesn’t really help bring Lonny’s view of the party back down to earth.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The countermine starts in a basement and moves southeast, first descending to a depth of around 16’ and then leveling off. The tunnel is wide enough for three to walk abreast and well-braced. “This is some good engineering,” Heimall remarks. “Did you help do this, Lonny?”</p><p></p><p>He shakes his head. “No, I’m pretty new.”</p><p></p><p>They reach the end of the countermine and can hear the sounds of picks on the far side of the end wall. The party prepares to attack when the sappers bust through- and, moments later, they do. The wall has been prepared to allow a large chunk to shatter free at once, so when the Hand’s kobolds break through, they are exposed by the crumbling rocks.</p><p></p><p>Our heroes take immediate advantage, and a brief but brutal battle ensues. The kobold leaders have some sort of trap-springing powers, and once the party rushes into the tunnel that they have been digging, they find that it is full of areas rigged to collapse. The kobolds take advantage of this and cause a couple of minor collapses that damage Vann-La and Kratos, but the party swiftly slays the sappers. A couple of them flee and get away, but that’s okay, as Heimall points out. After all, their mission is to collapse the tunnel- and now they can. They look the area over for any traps or other hidden surprises while Lonny examines the system of ropes and rigging that are preparing the tunnel for collapse. The others head forward, hoping to draw some enemy troops in while Lonny works. Indeed, Hand reinforcements <em>are</em> on their way, in much greater number than the party had expected- their are several dozen of them. </p><p></p><p>Quickly, our heroes withdraw and trigger the collapse. Not far behind them, dozens of Six-Fingered Hand troops find themselves suddenly being crushed under stone and soil. Those not killed instantly struggle, but they are buried beneath tons of earth. They cannot move. Crushed, suffocating, all of them die.</p><p></p><p>On the surface, the party waits for a while to ensure nothing makes it through. Indeed, all is quiet. </p><p></p><p>“Well,” says Vann-La, “I guess we should report in.” </p><p></p><p>“Then I’m going back to bed,” grumbles Kratos.</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Ogres at the gates!</p><p></p><p></p><p>*This is a 9th level daily fighter power attributed to the elven culture from which Vann-La comes. :</p><p></p><p><strong><span style="font-size: 10px">Kree Battle Dance-- Fighter Attack 9</span></strong> </p><p><em>You attack two enemies, drawing them in to you.</em></p><p><strong>Daily; Martial</strong></p><p><strong>Standard Action; Melee</strong> weapon</p><p><strong>Primary Target:</strong> One creature.</p><p><strong>Primary Attack:</strong> Strength vs. AC.</p><p><strong>Hit:</strong> 2 [W] + Strength modifier damage. Shift 1 and make a secondary attack.</p><p><strong>Secondary Target:</strong> One creature other than primary target.</p><p><strong>Secondary Attack:</strong> Strength vs. AC.</p><p><strong>Hit:</strong> 2 [W] + Strength modifier damage.</p><p><strong>Effect:</strong> The primary target is pulled adjacent to you.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 4794825, member: 1210"] Outside of the walls of Fandelose, the Six-Fingered Hand has erected a great field of poles, from which dangle living but eviscerated people. Their moans of torment do not reach the wall unless the wind is with them; if they were that close, the archers of Fandelose could put them out of their misery. Periodically, amongst the various things that the Hand’s siege engines hurl, there will be rotting corpses, full of disease- an attempt to crush the spirit of the city and force its capitulation. But between Torinn and Yabin, the city’s ritualist, any outbreaks are swiftly brought under control. Month after month, the defenders hold. The rice fields on the plateau that was once covered by the estates of the aristocracy serve their purpose admirably. The people of Fandelose eat, and though they are cut off from the outside, the frequency of Hand attacks tapers off as their tactics switch to an attempt to starve them out. The siege moves into its third year. By mid-winter, it seems that the besiegers are suffering more deprivation than are the besieged. Between the rice fields and diverted mountain runoff water, Fandelose is well-equipped for its people to eat and drink- and, if their diet might not have the variety to which the citizens were previously accustomed, at least their bellies are full. A surreal sort of sense of the everyday has evolved. The siege almost feels normal. Everyone knows there is extreme danger at every moment, yet the defenders have so far been so adroit in their defense that they have taken few losses- and inflicted thousands of wounded and dead on the horde of the Six-Fingered Hand. Such success lulls the citizens into a sense of inevitable victory. Between General Argos and his officers, many people think, the war is practically won. The passage of years necessitates that life go on. Babies are born, old men and women die (and not from arrow or sword). Men woo their would-be ladies. Vann-La finds herself the unexpected subject of such attention, but it’s only logical. He is a Kree, and she hasn’t seen another of her type in... well, in years. Lar-Gonn is one of the sergeants in the company she commanded at the very beginning, outside of the walls. He writes her Elven poetry and brings her gifts both subtle and attractive. Slowly, over the last couple of years, the two of them have been circling each other, courting. They have kissed, but nothing else, for an Elven courtship is a slow, languid and- ultimately, at its consummation- torrid affair. But slowly, slowly, they dance the Elven dance, circling and swaying in and out of each others’ reach. The best gift? He taught her the secret techniques of the Kree battle dance.* *** For bravery, and for saving the lives of many of his men, Torinn is awarded with both a Copper Star and a Scarlet Heart. Furthermore, he is promoted to Major. “I’m the ranking officer of us, now!” he crows to his friends later. “Great,” mutters Ligir. “You’ve got a nickname, too,” Loridell says. “The Dragon.” “Yeah, that’s really gotten around among the men,” agrees Kratos. “I’ve heard a lot of soldiers that don’t know you refer to you as ‘the Dragon’, as well.” The cleric looks bemused. “All right. The Dragon. I can live with that.” “There’s something else, too,” Heimall adds. “Come on.” He walks them to a courtyard, where a half-finished, life-sized marble statue of Torinn sits. “Commissioned,” he states, “by some of those same soldiers.” He claps Torinn on the arm. [i]Wow,[/i] thinks the dragonborn. [i]I wonder if this is how Lester felt in his early days, when he was just a mortal adventurer. Was there some group that he helped save that built the first statue of him, that recognized the spark of his divinity?[/i] He holds his gaze on the statue, beaming. [i]The only dragonborn in the city, and I’m a local hero already![/i] Of course, “already” is after three years of siege. *** The dead of night. Sound asleep, taking some much-needed rest, deep in his dreamscape. A sudden shaking of the shoulder, and Kratos comes awake. “Sir!” the messenger is saying. “Colonel Jaxe needs you, immediately!” The warlord scrambles up from his bed with a grunt. “I’ll be there momentarily,” he says groggily, and begins pulling his uniform on. A glance to the window- “What time is it?” “About two past midnight, sir.” Another grunt as he pulls his boots on, then, “Lead on.” Kratos follows the lad, who cannot be more than eleven, and swiftly they come to Colonel Jaxe’s office. Kratos cocks an eyebrow when he enters, for several of his friends are also present, clearly dragged out of bed. Vann-La, Torinn, Heimall and Ligir all nod their greetings, as does Colonel Jaxe. A young corporal who doesn’t quite fill his uniform is in the room as well. ”I’ll get right to it,” the colonel says without preamble. “They have miners and sappers hard at work, digging down below the city to try to undermine the walls. We have countermined them, and our tunnel will be meeting theirs before long. I need you to go in there are kill them, then collapse their tunnel so they can’t continue to use it. It’s a tunnel- it’s not really suited for a large group. We want a quick strike so that we can collapse their tunnel before they can summon reinforcements. You’ll have an engineer, Corporal Lonny, with you.” Jaxe gestures at the other young man present. “How do you know where they are?” Vann-La asks. Colonel Jaxe allows himself a small smile. “Fandelose is home to the high priest of a god named Hamel. The high priest and Yabin, the city’s ritualist, have worked together to develop certain ritual prayers to Hamel that tie the High Civilizer into the city. He sensed the disturbance coming through the earth.” “All right,” Heimall says. “It sounds as though time is of the essence. Let’s go.” They troop out, Lonny in the lead. Torinn is somewhat discomfited to note that the lad is obviously nervous around the party; clearly, their exploits in the defense of the city have made them all larger than life figures. “Listen,” says Ligir, “when the bad guys show up, just stay behind us and shoot your crossbow.” “Well- I don’t have one, you see.” “Oh, what do you have?” “A dagger. I’m not really supposed to fight. I’m here to help with the engineering.” “Okay, well, you just stay back, but if an enemy comes near, try to stab it.” “All right.” “Well, except for me. Stay in front of me, but behind them.” “Why-“ “Because I’m the wizard,” Iggy explains. That doesn’t really help bring Lonny’s view of the party back down to earth. *** The countermine starts in a basement and moves southeast, first descending to a depth of around 16’ and then leveling off. The tunnel is wide enough for three to walk abreast and well-braced. “This is some good engineering,” Heimall remarks. “Did you help do this, Lonny?” He shakes his head. “No, I’m pretty new.” They reach the end of the countermine and can hear the sounds of picks on the far side of the end wall. The party prepares to attack when the sappers bust through- and, moments later, they do. The wall has been prepared to allow a large chunk to shatter free at once, so when the Hand’s kobolds break through, they are exposed by the crumbling rocks. Our heroes take immediate advantage, and a brief but brutal battle ensues. The kobold leaders have some sort of trap-springing powers, and once the party rushes into the tunnel that they have been digging, they find that it is full of areas rigged to collapse. The kobolds take advantage of this and cause a couple of minor collapses that damage Vann-La and Kratos, but the party swiftly slays the sappers. A couple of them flee and get away, but that’s okay, as Heimall points out. After all, their mission is to collapse the tunnel- and now they can. They look the area over for any traps or other hidden surprises while Lonny examines the system of ropes and rigging that are preparing the tunnel for collapse. The others head forward, hoping to draw some enemy troops in while Lonny works. Indeed, Hand reinforcements [i]are[/i] on their way, in much greater number than the party had expected- their are several dozen of them. Quickly, our heroes withdraw and trigger the collapse. Not far behind them, dozens of Six-Fingered Hand troops find themselves suddenly being crushed under stone and soil. Those not killed instantly struggle, but they are buried beneath tons of earth. They cannot move. Crushed, suffocating, all of them die. On the surface, the party waits for a while to ensure nothing makes it through. Indeed, all is quiet. “Well,” says Vann-La, “I guess we should report in.” “Then I’m going back to bed,” grumbles Kratos. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Ogres at the gates! *This is a 9th level daily fighter power attributed to the elven culture from which Vann-La comes. : [b][size=2]Kree Battle Dance-- Fighter Attack 9[/size][/b] [i]You attack two enemies, drawing them in to you.[/i] [b]Daily; Martial[/b] [b]Standard Action; Melee[/b] weapon [b]Primary Target:[/b] One creature. [b]Primary Attack:[/b] Strength vs. AC. [b]Hit:[/b] 2 [W] + Strength modifier damage. Shift 1 and make a secondary attack. [b]Secondary Target:[/b] One creature other than primary target. [b]Secondary Attack:[/b] Strength vs. AC. [b]Hit:[/b] 2 [W] + Strength modifier damage. [b]Effect:[/b] The primary target is pulled adjacent to you. [/QUOTE]
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