Greppa of Tartwater
First Post
Update: 2/12/04
THE LONG VIEW
The temple sanctum's lamps guttered in the darkness. Illumination was mostly provided by Luccas' sacred pool and the ever present lantern archons. I rectified that, lighting the room to a daylight/like hot pink with a small application of Luccas' power. Darkness wasn't really an issue for me anymore. I was at home in the darkness or in Luccas' holy daylight, but tonight I wanted light to warm the room, to feel on my skin.
The faceless sarcophagus of dark pitted red metal rested in its alcove, a fresh cloak of black feathers adorning its lid and base. I stood a the foot studying it. It was my most valuable possession and I've checked on it almost every day for the last 5 years.
I started, craning my ears towards a random sound. The Olympiad's celebrations were raucous even here in Gru Gahk and the sound of their revelry in the outer rooms of the temple filtered in here. We as a people were celebrating; ourselves and our gods it was only right that we relax and be joyful.
I stopped that line of thought. I couldn't afford to feel safe.
"Look where it got you," I said to the metal coffin.
A couple of incantations later, a small group of vampire bats were nesting in the eaves of the room, watching waiting for a intruder to make an appearance, no matter how sudden. Allas and Xeras were sneaky and decietful and not above doing anything underhanded. The war with the Broken Knuckle orcs proved that.
____________________________________________________
20 years ago, Theralis had been going through changes, very drastic changes.
The Council was awash in change. Teoma, the gateway to the "true north" had petitioned us for protection. They had heard of the successes we had had against the Horde and asked us to come in an "advisory" capacity.
That "advisory" capacity became "last line of defense."
Technologicly and magickly, Teoma was more advanced than the Theralis valleys. However when it came to the military application of that technology, they could have been running around the battlefield naked with green switches for weapons.
The orcs would sweep out of the forest, usually lead by a "heavy cavalry" of several hundred giant wolves supported by mounted shamans. Instead of setting up a line of defense outside the city, the Teomans would retreat behind their high, impressive walls and summoned air elementals to enshroud the city and their mages would rain down fireballs and other energy area attack magics.
It worked fine against the early waves of orcs. They had tougher and tougher fights as the more advanced tribes moved into new territory. Their sense of security was broken when they started to encounter the probing fingers of the gorgons of orc-kind, the Broken Knuckle tribe.
They barely survived their first skirmishes and with a bitter taste in their mouths, they turned to the closest community who had successes repelling the stronger tribes. Those "hicks" down south...us.
We arrived with much fanfare and we looked very impressive. Prior to coming to Teoma, with Kyriotes help, I was able to persuade the Kithian Earth Elemental who guarded the remnants of the Imperial road to come north to use its strength to protect the new location of the Empire. In addition to bringing itself it also gave up its treasure-trove of ancient relics:force-field belts, enchanted swords, and most importantly, sandals of flight.
Officially I was a Captain in the Theralis army. Because of the insane Mobility I commanded via Uripedas, General Agina ordered that all the men in my command be equipped with sandals of flight. We descended into the city clad in our snow white tunics and brandishing our steel spears and heavy shields like something out of a romantic epic. Politicians were also with us, but they didn't fly. They teleported in with the support mages.
We endured several days of pleasantries before the alarm sounded. We'd spent those days talking tactics with the locals and established expectations. The number of arcanists were stunning, I figured that with them at our backs we should easily demolish the invaders.
The Theralis troops were at the walls waiting when the alarm sounded. What we found was troubling. All of the Teoman infantry were at the walls. No effort was being made to stop them before they hit the infantry line at the city walls. The giant snow white and gray wolves seemed to blur as they sped from the tree line. The Wind Wall was painfully slow as the elementals moved into position. My Eye, the artifact I took from the realm of the dead gave me my answer. The wolves, ALL of them, were under a Haste effect. Also, there were thousands of them instead if a few hundred.
I lapsed into cursing in orc. I sent an apprentice to get the Teoman arcanists up to the front lines. If they waited for the wind wall, the wolves would be in the city and Teoma would be a lost cause. With my elevation to captain, I had Uripedas fixed up with a new saddle. One a seat for me and two apprentices who would provide additional aid support for my spellcasting. I commanded them to their stations as Uripedas ensorcled himself with an Expeditious Charge spell (he wouldn't cast anything called Expedtious retreat). The soldiers took to the sky and my sergents went to earth to form the shield wall. I commanded the mage corp to bring the Teoman mages ,who were waiting for the wind wall to come, to the outer walls of the city so they could actually see their targets.
Out of the forest's panoply, a storm giant emerged brandishing a large bow.
"He's mine," smiled Merideth, who transformed into a raven and streaked away, claws crackling with the emerald energies of a Harm effect.
Urepidas was airborne soon afterward, but I was absolutely lost for what to do. Thousands upon thousands of enlarged wolves poured from the trees. A few scattered fireballs and lightning bolts landed in their midsts but they were unfazed, protected against the most common effects used by the mages. Realizing the futility of trying to energy-ball them into submission, I commanded Urepidas to fly to the edge of the battle field closest to the city.
Up until now, I was never desparate enough to "overload" a spell. Most of the time such a casting would fail, but even if it succeeded the drain would rapidly reduce my endurance on the field.
While I was wasiting time thinking, the wolves were coming and my men were still forming the shield wall while the Teoman troops looked ready to bolt. I needed to give them time, so I committed myself, praying to Luccas to help me.
Several years ago, I invented a spell, Screaming Blizzard, a cone effect that was a produced a combination of sonic and cold damage. I applied my meta-arcanist disciplines to Widen the effect...twice and for good measure I Empowered it. (The DC was miserable but it was possible with a good roll under the skill/feat based system Seasong developed. However it HURT a lot because the drain resistance DC was much higher also.) A 60 foot cone became a 240 foot cone. Urepidas swept from the sky, his midnight form a blur as the howling mass of power cut accross the front ranks of the lupines.
The charge slowed amidst howls of pain and confusion. Winded, I commanded my companion to do another run, and another, and another, until my orc-born strenth was at it's nadir. However, I did my job, the charge broke. My final sweep was accompanied by a fusilade of force and cold balls from the Theralis mages who had gotten the bulk of the Teoman mages into place. I joined their assault, raining force-spheres into the retreating ranks.
An unnaturally loud scream tore my attention from the battlefield to the Storm Giant who was wreathed in an aura of green lightening as Merideth's Harm effect siphoned off his precious life energies. I laughed for the first time that day watching the huge creatue bat fearfully at the circling crow as she delivered the finishing blow.
The wolves regrouped with the orc infantry and came charging out of the forests, but much more cautiously. However we repelled them. Teoma thought it went well. They were crushed when we told them it was only a scouting party. Merideth and I had seen the Broken Knuckle make war. The shamanic support was not present and there were only a few thousand fighters and wolves. They weren't the main force, not by a longshot.
Teoma moved they should become a protectorate of Theralis. However, after a short religious skirmish with Allas' people, we annexed Teoma and with our sister city Aglionis, the Empire of Kithios was reborn.
We moved quickly after that, sending military units into the ruined cities of the original Kithian empire. The idea of using the military to excavate the ruins was a reaction, something Theralis as a whole should have been doing since war started with the fleeing orc tribes so long ago. Traditionally, grave crawling had been left to arcane spellcasters and whatever groups of "adventurers" they could cobble together with promises of access to magic and hidden wealth.
At the time, Kyriotes was the undisputed master of delving into the wrecked pieces of the past. To most people, the ruins were reminders of the arrogance of our forefathers, those who slayed the dragon that kept and protected their land and paid for it in blood when the dragon's death curse commanded the ground to swallow up the offending occupants. For Kyriotes, they were keys to personal power and prominence, for him and his "school" of magic. He studiously excluded arcanists who were not former pupils and typically took with him around 12 fighers and a retinue to handle his baggage train. My and Merideth's surprise had been genuine when he, with uncharastic humility, asked if we would join him on one such expedition.
Of course we said yes.
THE LONG VIEW
The temple sanctum's lamps guttered in the darkness. Illumination was mostly provided by Luccas' sacred pool and the ever present lantern archons. I rectified that, lighting the room to a daylight/like hot pink with a small application of Luccas' power. Darkness wasn't really an issue for me anymore. I was at home in the darkness or in Luccas' holy daylight, but tonight I wanted light to warm the room, to feel on my skin.
The faceless sarcophagus of dark pitted red metal rested in its alcove, a fresh cloak of black feathers adorning its lid and base. I stood a the foot studying it. It was my most valuable possession and I've checked on it almost every day for the last 5 years.
I started, craning my ears towards a random sound. The Olympiad's celebrations were raucous even here in Gru Gahk and the sound of their revelry in the outer rooms of the temple filtered in here. We as a people were celebrating; ourselves and our gods it was only right that we relax and be joyful.
I stopped that line of thought. I couldn't afford to feel safe.
"Look where it got you," I said to the metal coffin.
A couple of incantations later, a small group of vampire bats were nesting in the eaves of the room, watching waiting for a intruder to make an appearance, no matter how sudden. Allas and Xeras were sneaky and decietful and not above doing anything underhanded. The war with the Broken Knuckle orcs proved that.
____________________________________________________
20 years ago, Theralis had been going through changes, very drastic changes.
The Council was awash in change. Teoma, the gateway to the "true north" had petitioned us for protection. They had heard of the successes we had had against the Horde and asked us to come in an "advisory" capacity.
That "advisory" capacity became "last line of defense."
Technologicly and magickly, Teoma was more advanced than the Theralis valleys. However when it came to the military application of that technology, they could have been running around the battlefield naked with green switches for weapons.
The orcs would sweep out of the forest, usually lead by a "heavy cavalry" of several hundred giant wolves supported by mounted shamans. Instead of setting up a line of defense outside the city, the Teomans would retreat behind their high, impressive walls and summoned air elementals to enshroud the city and their mages would rain down fireballs and other energy area attack magics.
It worked fine against the early waves of orcs. They had tougher and tougher fights as the more advanced tribes moved into new territory. Their sense of security was broken when they started to encounter the probing fingers of the gorgons of orc-kind, the Broken Knuckle tribe.
They barely survived their first skirmishes and with a bitter taste in their mouths, they turned to the closest community who had successes repelling the stronger tribes. Those "hicks" down south...us.
We arrived with much fanfare and we looked very impressive. Prior to coming to Teoma, with Kyriotes help, I was able to persuade the Kithian Earth Elemental who guarded the remnants of the Imperial road to come north to use its strength to protect the new location of the Empire. In addition to bringing itself it also gave up its treasure-trove of ancient relics:force-field belts, enchanted swords, and most importantly, sandals of flight.
Officially I was a Captain in the Theralis army. Because of the insane Mobility I commanded via Uripedas, General Agina ordered that all the men in my command be equipped with sandals of flight. We descended into the city clad in our snow white tunics and brandishing our steel spears and heavy shields like something out of a romantic epic. Politicians were also with us, but they didn't fly. They teleported in with the support mages.
We endured several days of pleasantries before the alarm sounded. We'd spent those days talking tactics with the locals and established expectations. The number of arcanists were stunning, I figured that with them at our backs we should easily demolish the invaders.
The Theralis troops were at the walls waiting when the alarm sounded. What we found was troubling. All of the Teoman infantry were at the walls. No effort was being made to stop them before they hit the infantry line at the city walls. The giant snow white and gray wolves seemed to blur as they sped from the tree line. The Wind Wall was painfully slow as the elementals moved into position. My Eye, the artifact I took from the realm of the dead gave me my answer. The wolves, ALL of them, were under a Haste effect. Also, there were thousands of them instead if a few hundred.
I lapsed into cursing in orc. I sent an apprentice to get the Teoman arcanists up to the front lines. If they waited for the wind wall, the wolves would be in the city and Teoma would be a lost cause. With my elevation to captain, I had Uripedas fixed up with a new saddle. One a seat for me and two apprentices who would provide additional aid support for my spellcasting. I commanded them to their stations as Uripedas ensorcled himself with an Expeditious Charge spell (he wouldn't cast anything called Expedtious retreat). The soldiers took to the sky and my sergents went to earth to form the shield wall. I commanded the mage corp to bring the Teoman mages ,who were waiting for the wind wall to come, to the outer walls of the city so they could actually see their targets.
Out of the forest's panoply, a storm giant emerged brandishing a large bow.
"He's mine," smiled Merideth, who transformed into a raven and streaked away, claws crackling with the emerald energies of a Harm effect.
Urepidas was airborne soon afterward, but I was absolutely lost for what to do. Thousands upon thousands of enlarged wolves poured from the trees. A few scattered fireballs and lightning bolts landed in their midsts but they were unfazed, protected against the most common effects used by the mages. Realizing the futility of trying to energy-ball them into submission, I commanded Urepidas to fly to the edge of the battle field closest to the city.
Up until now, I was never desparate enough to "overload" a spell. Most of the time such a casting would fail, but even if it succeeded the drain would rapidly reduce my endurance on the field.
While I was wasiting time thinking, the wolves were coming and my men were still forming the shield wall while the Teoman troops looked ready to bolt. I needed to give them time, so I committed myself, praying to Luccas to help me.
Several years ago, I invented a spell, Screaming Blizzard, a cone effect that was a produced a combination of sonic and cold damage. I applied my meta-arcanist disciplines to Widen the effect...twice and for good measure I Empowered it. (The DC was miserable but it was possible with a good roll under the skill/feat based system Seasong developed. However it HURT a lot because the drain resistance DC was much higher also.) A 60 foot cone became a 240 foot cone. Urepidas swept from the sky, his midnight form a blur as the howling mass of power cut accross the front ranks of the lupines.
The charge slowed amidst howls of pain and confusion. Winded, I commanded my companion to do another run, and another, and another, until my orc-born strenth was at it's nadir. However, I did my job, the charge broke. My final sweep was accompanied by a fusilade of force and cold balls from the Theralis mages who had gotten the bulk of the Teoman mages into place. I joined their assault, raining force-spheres into the retreating ranks.
An unnaturally loud scream tore my attention from the battlefield to the Storm Giant who was wreathed in an aura of green lightening as Merideth's Harm effect siphoned off his precious life energies. I laughed for the first time that day watching the huge creatue bat fearfully at the circling crow as she delivered the finishing blow.
The wolves regrouped with the orc infantry and came charging out of the forests, but much more cautiously. However we repelled them. Teoma thought it went well. They were crushed when we told them it was only a scouting party. Merideth and I had seen the Broken Knuckle make war. The shamanic support was not present and there were only a few thousand fighters and wolves. They weren't the main force, not by a longshot.
Teoma moved they should become a protectorate of Theralis. However, after a short religious skirmish with Allas' people, we annexed Teoma and with our sister city Aglionis, the Empire of Kithios was reborn.
We moved quickly after that, sending military units into the ruined cities of the original Kithian empire. The idea of using the military to excavate the ruins was a reaction, something Theralis as a whole should have been doing since war started with the fleeing orc tribes so long ago. Traditionally, grave crawling had been left to arcane spellcasters and whatever groups of "adventurers" they could cobble together with promises of access to magic and hidden wealth.
At the time, Kyriotes was the undisputed master of delving into the wrecked pieces of the past. To most people, the ruins were reminders of the arrogance of our forefathers, those who slayed the dragon that kept and protected their land and paid for it in blood when the dragon's death curse commanded the ground to swallow up the offending occupants. For Kyriotes, they were keys to personal power and prominence, for him and his "school" of magic. He studiously excluded arcanists who were not former pupils and typically took with him around 12 fighers and a retinue to handle his baggage train. My and Merideth's surprise had been genuine when he, with uncharastic humility, asked if we would join him on one such expedition.
Of course we said yes.
