seasong
First Post
The Breaking Cat
The orc army rushed up the slopes. Disciplined and organized, they formed into a pair of wedges. The weakest orcs were at the forefront, the most skilled immediately behind them. Like a pair of fangs, the two wedges charged upslope. Slightly before they hit, two giants rushed out of the cover of the trees to hurl huge boulders, one at each point of impact.
Greppa caught the male orc in the head with a trio of lesser shadow killers, weakening him sufficiently that he could no longer support the boulder he was slinging. "WHUFF!" The boulder dropped and rolled through an orc warband as the giant tripped, and the other giant, having heaved her boulder, ran to her mate and dragged him back into the tree cover.
Where the one boulder impacted, Theralese shields were scattered like leaves, and then the orcs slammed into the line.
When they hit, the weakest orcs formed a flesh shield for the heroes while the heroes hacked into the shield wall while it tried to reform.
But the shield wall had collapsed in areas before. Secondary shields swung into place behind the first. Spears were set against orcs attempting to penetrate through. A new secondary shield wall began to coalesce in the back ranks.
An orc shaman, hidden among the vanguard and protected on all sides by meaty orc heroes, called upon the icy northern winds, and the bitterest cold imaginable blew through the Theralese ranks. As the orc heroes slammed into the shields, iron and flesh shattered like glass. The newly formed secondary shield wall was as frozen as the first, and the orcs punched through both with ease...
...to unleash their real attack. A herd of armorcats leapt out from the orc ranks, flanked on both sides by orc heroes. The shamans continued to call upon the spirits and rend those who proved likely to be a real threat.
Captain's banners dropped like wheat chaff, as swords were drawn and battle cries rang out. Somewhere south of center, Agina found herself in dire battle with an orc hero easily twice her mass, and sword rang on spear as they fought. Around her, her soldiers died on orc spears, and gave the same back. She swallowed a momentary smile - her soldiers were doing well, all things considered. Her enemy made an error, stabbing her in her non-sword arm, and she gripped his weapon and stepped in, and swung the edge of her blade in an overhead arc that met his neck with a meaty thunk.
Athan, meanwhile, had seized upon a new tactic. A stupid one, but it was working. He grabbed an armorcat from behind, taking a spear in the back of his thigh for his pains, and hauled it up by scruff and armpits. Then he heaved backward, twisting to the left and slinging the half-ton beast like one might throw a child... up, over his comrades... and facing the other way, into the orcs, with a full mad on. It worked, and Athan was quickly healed and running to the next one, while others held off orc attacks on him. A new batch of orcs learned to respect the beautiful young boy. Most orcs can't lift an armorcat, much less toss one at the enemy.
In admiration, they jumped him as a group, stabbing him through the legs and, when he fell, kicking him in the face and pinning his arms. Bellowing with rage, Athan summoned up sufficient strength to haul the two orcs pinning his right arm off their feet, and was then stabbed with numerous spears and went down.
The orcs realized their mistake moments later, when Merideth unleashed a spray of telekinetic knives into their midst. It was her most powerful spell ever, and the results were impressive - every orc near Athan died. Then, exhausted, she set about dragging Athan back, healing him, and praying to every god she could summon to her lips that no one had seen her cast it.
The individual heroism of the Theralese was amazing. The churn of the battle, however, was going to the orcs. Winter wind continued to blast in unexpected places, allowing the orcs to continue penetrating the shield walls. Armorcats continued to rake hell... and few soldiers had Athan's divine-seeming strength.
From above, still looking for targets of opportunity, Greppa knew what he had to do. What had happened at Eastpass was happening again - the orcs were getting on the other side of the shield wall, and slaughtering his people. He could not allow it. He would not allow it, so long as he drew breath.
Greppa prayed.
"O Allas, who brings warmth to the earth, who brings fullness to the grape, who watches over us all. My people are dying. Soon they will fall. The armorcat tribe reaches for our throat, and soon it will find it. Please, guide me in this! Please, show me how to bring victory for my people!"
The sun, not quite at noon yet, struck him in the eyes with a shaft of light. "What is asked, is given; where the soul burns bright, shadows can not live; where you are dark, I will fill you."
Greppa thought quickly; he understood only the bare minimum of religion, but he knew that he was being offered a contract... and suspected that it would mean the loss of some of his best spells. Then Allas' light touched him, and it became clear. He would lose his ability to tap or channel shadow entirely... and he would lose his independance as an arcanist.
Far below, orcs killed his people.
Greppa accepted, and light filled him. Each organ felt swelled and yet empty of weight, and fiery pleasure buoyed his senses. As he looked around him, the world brightened to almost intolerable levels, but his eyes were undiminished. He looked at the sun, and it was beautiful. He looked at the earth, and colors faded as the light of the sun continued to intensify.
He looked at the shamans, hidden from the Theralis, but easily visible to him. He felt a momentary curiousity as they began to burn under his gaze, but paid it little heed. Allas was with him.
He did not notice the illusionist moving a wide distance from him, unsure of what he was doing. He did not notice the battle stopping as people gaped at him. He only noticed when, finally, the orc army began to retreat and the shield wall restored.
He landed swiftly, and noticed an oddity - as he descended, the shadows lengthened away from him, and soldiers gave him a wide space. He paid it no mind until the shadows began to return to normal, and the tropical daylight faded... it was Greppa who had been glowing like a small sun, bringing Allas closer to earth and burning his enemies with her light.
And he also realized... every spell of shadow he'd known was gone, burned from his mind by Allas' light, and every spell of light felt stronger and easier than before. He mourned lesser shadow killer for a moment, perhaps two, then turned to face his friends as they came running up.
Athan was slick with blood, both his and others', while Merideth, unable to fully heal him, supported him by the shoulder. Athan embraced Greppa, pounded him on the back, and yelled encouragement. Merideth hugged him next, asking, "Can we all do that?", meaning, of course, those bearing Allas' birthmark. Greppa just shrugged and grinned.
And then it was off to rest, for all three were well and truly exhausted, and the war was not yet over. The armorcat tribe hid in the trees below, planning their next moves.
The orc army rushed up the slopes. Disciplined and organized, they formed into a pair of wedges. The weakest orcs were at the forefront, the most skilled immediately behind them. Like a pair of fangs, the two wedges charged upslope. Slightly before they hit, two giants rushed out of the cover of the trees to hurl huge boulders, one at each point of impact.
Greppa caught the male orc in the head with a trio of lesser shadow killers, weakening him sufficiently that he could no longer support the boulder he was slinging. "WHUFF!" The boulder dropped and rolled through an orc warband as the giant tripped, and the other giant, having heaved her boulder, ran to her mate and dragged him back into the tree cover.
Where the one boulder impacted, Theralese shields were scattered like leaves, and then the orcs slammed into the line.
When they hit, the weakest orcs formed a flesh shield for the heroes while the heroes hacked into the shield wall while it tried to reform.
But the shield wall had collapsed in areas before. Secondary shields swung into place behind the first. Spears were set against orcs attempting to penetrate through. A new secondary shield wall began to coalesce in the back ranks.
An orc shaman, hidden among the vanguard and protected on all sides by meaty orc heroes, called upon the icy northern winds, and the bitterest cold imaginable blew through the Theralese ranks. As the orc heroes slammed into the shields, iron and flesh shattered like glass. The newly formed secondary shield wall was as frozen as the first, and the orcs punched through both with ease...
...to unleash their real attack. A herd of armorcats leapt out from the orc ranks, flanked on both sides by orc heroes. The shamans continued to call upon the spirits and rend those who proved likely to be a real threat.
Captain's banners dropped like wheat chaff, as swords were drawn and battle cries rang out. Somewhere south of center, Agina found herself in dire battle with an orc hero easily twice her mass, and sword rang on spear as they fought. Around her, her soldiers died on orc spears, and gave the same back. She swallowed a momentary smile - her soldiers were doing well, all things considered. Her enemy made an error, stabbing her in her non-sword arm, and she gripped his weapon and stepped in, and swung the edge of her blade in an overhead arc that met his neck with a meaty thunk.
Athan, meanwhile, had seized upon a new tactic. A stupid one, but it was working. He grabbed an armorcat from behind, taking a spear in the back of his thigh for his pains, and hauled it up by scruff and armpits. Then he heaved backward, twisting to the left and slinging the half-ton beast like one might throw a child... up, over his comrades... and facing the other way, into the orcs, with a full mad on. It worked, and Athan was quickly healed and running to the next one, while others held off orc attacks on him. A new batch of orcs learned to respect the beautiful young boy. Most orcs can't lift an armorcat, much less toss one at the enemy.
In admiration, they jumped him as a group, stabbing him through the legs and, when he fell, kicking him in the face and pinning his arms. Bellowing with rage, Athan summoned up sufficient strength to haul the two orcs pinning his right arm off their feet, and was then stabbed with numerous spears and went down.
The orcs realized their mistake moments later, when Merideth unleashed a spray of telekinetic knives into their midst. It was her most powerful spell ever, and the results were impressive - every orc near Athan died. Then, exhausted, she set about dragging Athan back, healing him, and praying to every god she could summon to her lips that no one had seen her cast it.
The individual heroism of the Theralese was amazing. The churn of the battle, however, was going to the orcs. Winter wind continued to blast in unexpected places, allowing the orcs to continue penetrating the shield walls. Armorcats continued to rake hell... and few soldiers had Athan's divine-seeming strength.
From above, still looking for targets of opportunity, Greppa knew what he had to do. What had happened at Eastpass was happening again - the orcs were getting on the other side of the shield wall, and slaughtering his people. He could not allow it. He would not allow it, so long as he drew breath.
Greppa prayed.
"O Allas, who brings warmth to the earth, who brings fullness to the grape, who watches over us all. My people are dying. Soon they will fall. The armorcat tribe reaches for our throat, and soon it will find it. Please, guide me in this! Please, show me how to bring victory for my people!"
The sun, not quite at noon yet, struck him in the eyes with a shaft of light. "What is asked, is given; where the soul burns bright, shadows can not live; where you are dark, I will fill you."
Greppa thought quickly; he understood only the bare minimum of religion, but he knew that he was being offered a contract... and suspected that it would mean the loss of some of his best spells. Then Allas' light touched him, and it became clear. He would lose his ability to tap or channel shadow entirely... and he would lose his independance as an arcanist.
Far below, orcs killed his people.
Greppa accepted, and light filled him. Each organ felt swelled and yet empty of weight, and fiery pleasure buoyed his senses. As he looked around him, the world brightened to almost intolerable levels, but his eyes were undiminished. He looked at the sun, and it was beautiful. He looked at the earth, and colors faded as the light of the sun continued to intensify.
He looked at the shamans, hidden from the Theralis, but easily visible to him. He felt a momentary curiousity as they began to burn under his gaze, but paid it little heed. Allas was with him.
He did not notice the illusionist moving a wide distance from him, unsure of what he was doing. He did not notice the battle stopping as people gaped at him. He only noticed when, finally, the orc army began to retreat and the shield wall restored.
He landed swiftly, and noticed an oddity - as he descended, the shadows lengthened away from him, and soldiers gave him a wide space. He paid it no mind until the shadows began to return to normal, and the tropical daylight faded... it was Greppa who had been glowing like a small sun, bringing Allas closer to earth and burning his enemies with her light.
And he also realized... every spell of shadow he'd known was gone, burned from his mind by Allas' light, and every spell of light felt stronger and easier than before. He mourned lesser shadow killer for a moment, perhaps two, then turned to face his friends as they came running up.
Athan was slick with blood, both his and others', while Merideth, unable to fully heal him, supported him by the shoulder. Athan embraced Greppa, pounded him on the back, and yelled encouragement. Merideth hugged him next, asking, "Can we all do that?", meaning, of course, those bearing Allas' birthmark. Greppa just shrugged and grinned.
And then it was off to rest, for all three were well and truly exhausted, and the war was not yet over. The armorcat tribe hid in the trees below, planning their next moves.
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