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<blockquote data-quote="Iron Sky" data-source="post: 4983365" data-attributes="member: 60965"><p>Session 25, Part 3</p><p> </p><p></p><p> “What's going on up there?” Harold called to the packed guardsmen.</p><p></p><p> “Ahead, they've overrun us and anyone who goes any closer is killed.”</p><p></p><p> They stared out at the guardsmen holding back the mindless dead that hurled themselves towards living flesh. Harold climbed down from the carriage and the others followed him, readying themselves for battle.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p></p><p> With patience born of centuries of waiting, it bided its time while a group of living-ones destroyed the trivial dead walkers on the wall. They moved quickly and the ancient one waited until they reached the place where the piled bodies reached the top of the wall. With a thought it summoned several of its powerful minions, but it didn't wait for them to arrive; it wanted to taste the dying souls of these beings for it could already sense the strength of their life force.</p><p></p><p> They noticed it when it was nearly upon them and a dim sense of anticipation welled in it as it stepped onto the wall to face them. It noted with some interest that they were unaffected by its gaze, the same gaze that had frozen all the mortals it had ever faced with fear – all except Thessalock that is. Thoughts of its master caused it immense pain so it banished such thoughts and pointed its finger at one of the living ones, to snuff the being's life force. To its surprise, the being struggled and then shrugged off the unholy energies that nearly killed it and hurled a spell in return.</p><p></p><p> They began attacking, one firing arrows, another drawing a sword and charging along side a third that looked as though it was going to attack with its bare hands. A golem followed behind. It ignored the one with the sword and the one that punched and kicked futilely at it and turned to the archer that was actually hurting it.</p><p></p><p> The archer lifted into the air as it fired, drifting off the wall and away, over the mass of the dead that had overrun the wall and churned a hundred feet below. With a gesture, it stole the arcane energies that allowed the archer to fly and turned away as the human plummeted to certain death.</p><p></p><p> Turning back, it opened its hand and hurled a blast of unworldly cold at the four remaining figures, immediately following up by striking them with a rotting plague.</p><p></p><p> They weathered the attack and pressed their own, but aside from the petty magics thrown by the one in back and his golem, they were barely harming it. A globe of darkness formed around it, blinding its enemies and it slammed its fist into the one with the sword, hammering him into the stone of the wall then tossing the limp body aside. It walked past the one that struck it impotently with his fists and approached the magic-wielder, enjoying the look of fear it its eyes as it backed away.</p><p></p><p> It walked out of its darkness and brushed aside the weak spells hurled at it. The dead pressed up behind the mage, preventing him from fleeing further. With a sense of anticipation it had not felt in decades, it reached for the magic user to consume his life-force only to be surprised by an arrow that came out of nowhere and hit it in the leg. It turned slowly and looked to see the archer that had fallen firing at it, ignoring the horde of the dead that surrounded him, trying to pull him apart. As he stared down at it, another arrow struck it in the chest and it staggered back again, staring at the arrow in its chest. It looked up again and a third arrow hit it between the eyes sending it back into the darkness that had spawned it.</p><p></p><p> ***</p><p></p><p> Harold pushed his way through the moaning dead, digging into a pocket for a small item he'd carried with him since he'd been sent to Northmand. Struggling against the tugging and pawing of the dead around him, he thrust the feather into the ground and grabbed onto a branch of the tree that shot up rapidly before him.</p><p></p><p>A few seconds later he was forty feet above the ground, surrounded by leafy branches. He took a deep breath, wincing as he dug for one of his potions. Through the branches, he saw Suniel's carriage fleeing along the top of the wall with Kormak and Keeper atop it. Behind them were detonations of flame as Suniel blasted whatever it was he was fleeing from.</p><p></p><p> <em>I killed the big one, what is he running from?</em> Harold thought as he drank a potion and felt its healing mixture seep into his wounds.</p><p></p><p> A minute later, half-a-dozen spectral forms were upon him and he was again fighting for his life.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Iron Sky, post: 4983365, member: 60965"] Session 25, Part 3 “What's going on up there?” Harold called to the packed guardsmen. “Ahead, they've overrun us and anyone who goes any closer is killed.” They stared out at the guardsmen holding back the mindless dead that hurled themselves towards living flesh. Harold climbed down from the carriage and the others followed him, readying themselves for battle. *** With patience born of centuries of waiting, it bided its time while a group of living-ones destroyed the trivial dead walkers on the wall. They moved quickly and the ancient one waited until they reached the place where the piled bodies reached the top of the wall. With a thought it summoned several of its powerful minions, but it didn't wait for them to arrive; it wanted to taste the dying souls of these beings for it could already sense the strength of their life force. They noticed it when it was nearly upon them and a dim sense of anticipation welled in it as it stepped onto the wall to face them. It noted with some interest that they were unaffected by its gaze, the same gaze that had frozen all the mortals it had ever faced with fear – all except Thessalock that is. Thoughts of its master caused it immense pain so it banished such thoughts and pointed its finger at one of the living ones, to snuff the being's life force. To its surprise, the being struggled and then shrugged off the unholy energies that nearly killed it and hurled a spell in return. They began attacking, one firing arrows, another drawing a sword and charging along side a third that looked as though it was going to attack with its bare hands. A golem followed behind. It ignored the one with the sword and the one that punched and kicked futilely at it and turned to the archer that was actually hurting it. The archer lifted into the air as it fired, drifting off the wall and away, over the mass of the dead that had overrun the wall and churned a hundred feet below. With a gesture, it stole the arcane energies that allowed the archer to fly and turned away as the human plummeted to certain death. Turning back, it opened its hand and hurled a blast of unworldly cold at the four remaining figures, immediately following up by striking them with a rotting plague. They weathered the attack and pressed their own, but aside from the petty magics thrown by the one in back and his golem, they were barely harming it. A globe of darkness formed around it, blinding its enemies and it slammed its fist into the one with the sword, hammering him into the stone of the wall then tossing the limp body aside. It walked past the one that struck it impotently with his fists and approached the magic-wielder, enjoying the look of fear it its eyes as it backed away. It walked out of its darkness and brushed aside the weak spells hurled at it. The dead pressed up behind the mage, preventing him from fleeing further. With a sense of anticipation it had not felt in decades, it reached for the magic user to consume his life-force only to be surprised by an arrow that came out of nowhere and hit it in the leg. It turned slowly and looked to see the archer that had fallen firing at it, ignoring the horde of the dead that surrounded him, trying to pull him apart. As he stared down at it, another arrow struck it in the chest and it staggered back again, staring at the arrow in its chest. It looked up again and a third arrow hit it between the eyes sending it back into the darkness that had spawned it. *** Harold pushed his way through the moaning dead, digging into a pocket for a small item he'd carried with him since he'd been sent to Northmand. Struggling against the tugging and pawing of the dead around him, he thrust the feather into the ground and grabbed onto a branch of the tree that shot up rapidly before him. A few seconds later he was forty feet above the ground, surrounded by leafy branches. He took a deep breath, wincing as he dug for one of his potions. Through the branches, he saw Suniel's carriage fleeing along the top of the wall with Kormak and Keeper atop it. Behind them were detonations of flame as Suniel blasted whatever it was he was fleeing from. [I]I killed the big one, what is he running from?[/I] Harold thought as he drank a potion and felt its healing mixture seep into his wounds. A minute later, half-a-dozen spectral forms were upon him and he was again fighting for his life. [/QUOTE]
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