FSTGOD 3 Game Thread

[Rogue 9]

Admiral Ross was happy to be rid of the troops that had been stored in his holds. That many days at sea had begun to get them too eager for land again, not to mention the rivalries that hade begun to act up in such closed quarters. Out in the open and on dry land again however, tempers had died down. But now they were Caustus' problem. He had the enemy navy to worry about now though. They'd gone into hiding for now, maybe permanently, but part of the reason they were down here was to stop the pirate raids, it wouldn't do if they didn't manage to do that.

Admiral Ross looked out over his flagship, The Wyrm. The sailors were beginning to replace the ballistae that had been taken off to make room for the troops, so they would be at least partly capable of being useful in the coming fight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Markus Caustus sat in his tent as the rest of the men set up for the night. Tomorrow they would move North, towards the Orc city. It was under 30 kilometers. If the men rushed they could make it in a day, then the seige could begin. With any luck, they would be able to take the city, and from there things would only get more difficult. Scouts were out in the woods now, watching for signs of the Orcs. The army would have plenty of time to form up. Taking a deep breath, Caustus returned to the maps, looking for best routes and defendable positions.

13,500 men and 500 horses were setting up in the growing field of tents, men chattered among each other of the feats they would accomplish in battle and the glory they would bring back to their home. Priests walked among the men, praying in Pendran for the men, some of whom bowed and took part in the moving ceremony. Seperated from the rest of the army were two groups of rune-carved men. Who were themselves seperate from each other. The first group which was much larger were sharpening their blades, and praying to Dahhok. These were Dahhok's Chosen, the religious berserkers who had been carved with the runes of the Leroani. Unlike the others, these 2,000 men were silent in their religious musings adn preparations for death. The third camp was very small, only 100 men. But these were perhaps the most frightening, the Leroani were here to defend the army and break the walls once the seige began.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

The war cry echoed in the scout team's ears as upwards of a dozen orcs vaulted a fallen log and charged towards them, axes held high in the air. Orcs, it seems, weren't hard to watch for signs of.

[Cynical Cat]

The Gulf of Viconia

"Rise above them," Malevan said. "No sense in giving them target practice. He uttered a spell of deflection, one that could most projectiles to miss. No sense in taking unnecessary chances.

It was surprising that they still had functioning ballistas after being struck by the Dragonhead, but that was of no account. A few possibilities came to mind, but that was for latter. Starfall would likely send the damaged ship to the bottom as would the Falling Sun and the Dragonshead. Time for a more selective magic.

He spoke a spell and dozens of arrows of fire flashed down upon the ship, most of them clustered tightly around the engines, the others flying towards exposed sailors.

[Rogue 9]

Gulf of Viconia

Several of the arrows vanished in midair as they sailed towards the deck of the ship, but most made it to their targets. A man on deck finished one flourish of his arms and then simply pointed at the dragon. A great bolt of lightning suddenly arced from the ship towards the great monstrosity as the crews of two of the three remaining functional ballistae either burst into flames or abandoned their posts, rendering their war machines inoperable.

[Charon]

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

The war cry echoed in the scout team's ears as upwards of a dozen orcs vaulted a fallen log and charged towards them, axes held high in the air. Orcs, it seems, weren't hard to watch for signs of.

The scouts did not flinch as they raised their bows upwards. One turned away from the Orc horde, whispering to a bolt as he aimed his crossbow the scout turned upward and fired as the arrow began to glow. The other five scouts turned their crossbows towards the charging Orcs and fired a volley into their ranks at near point blank range and then began to quickly fall back.

General Caustus was out in the field of tents within a minute of the arrow being fired, beginning to marshal the men for an attack. Other scout forces had also seen the flare and sent parts of their own squads to help.

[Cynical Cat]

Gulf of Viconia

Azzerekes roared as the bolt smashed into his scales. The Night Dragon was not particularily vulnerable to magic, indeed as his substance was as much magic as flesh he was quite resistant to sorcery. Resistant was different that immune. The wound was minor, more painful than anything else, but that did not mean he could endlessly endure such injuries.

Sensing the Night Dragon's rage and wanting to capture the ship as intact as possible, Malevan spoke to him. "Leave. Return to the shore and let the witches treat your wound."

With that he stepped off the dragon's back. A sphere of watery light surrounded him, proof against both projectiles and sorcery. The witch king fell towards the deck as if lowered on invisible wires, his knees slightly bent to take the shock of the landing. The Viconians had learned new ways of making engines in the last decade and had obtained sorcerers who were willing to stand against him.

He would have those answers. "I am Malevan!" he roared. "Witch King of Dusk!" He brandished his terrible spear and mace. "Who would stand against me!?"

[Rogue 9]

"Odd that the Witch-King of Dusk feels the need to stoop to piracy," said the ship's captain coldly, stepping forward with his hand on the pommel of his undrawn sword. "By what right do you assault my ship and murder my men?"

[Rogue 9]

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

The war cry echoed in the scout team's ears as upwards of a dozen orcs vaulted a fallen log and charged towards them, axes held high in the air. Orcs, it seems, weren't hard to watch for signs of.

The scouts did not flinch as they raised their bows upwards. One turned away from the Orc horde, whispering to a bolt as he aimed his crossbow the scout turned upward and fired as the arrow began to glow. The other five scouts turned their crossbows towards the charging Orcs and fired a volley into their ranks at near point blank range and then began to quickly fall back.

General Caustus was out in the field of tents within a minute of the arrow being fired, beginning to marshal the men for an attack. Other scout forces had also seen the flare and sent parts of their own squads to help.

Four of the orcs fell, but the rest kept coming, some of them wildly discharging crossbows as they charged.

"CHOP 'EM UP, BOYZ," shouted the big one at the head of the pack as they closed on the scouts.

[Charon]

Eronwal

Eronwal had long served as a small outpost to support sailors on their long journeys at sea, as such for the most part their military was more focused on police work, though their navy remained well kept. Mostly the Kainan of Eronwal counted on their proximity to the Koronan Empire to keep them safe, to take Eronwal would mean to get close to the Koronan Empire, which would only severely distress a situation. As for the Empire, a number of treaties had been signed over the years to keep Eronwal safe from invasion. The citizens remained loyal worshippers of Dahhok, and their port was open to any Koronan trade vessel.

Elements inside Eronwal however, were displeased with this arrangement. Some wished for a greater amount of independence, while others thought that entering under the protection of the Empire would only help their cause. Once again the issue was soon to be up for debate in the senate, and once again the politicians were promising that this would be the last time, not that any of the citizens believed them. Overall the public opinion on the matter was neutral. In the city streets and politicians offices though, certain among them were talking of doom coming should they not offer to join the Empire.

Senator Aleks sat in his study as a concerned general told him of matters in the outside world. "Sir, the Nithgaard are mobilizing their troops. The snakes are too far South for them to be worried about them, and they wouldn't be foolish enough to attack the still strong Hylidaeians nor the Farnian who protect them from the Dragon. Frankly sir, the only target I do see for them is us. Our position and port would give them an excellent forward base to strike out against the Koronan, who rumor has it they have had increasingly hostile relations with."

Other senators who were sitting on the fence on the issue were having similar discussions with men they'd brought in to ask on the subject. Merchants would point out the increased financial prospects available to them, guards would point out how much easier their job would be with a more legitimate military to keep the real threats away.

Out in the street and in the bars and brothels, quiet conversations on the issue sparked up. Questions on safety and independence, sometimes quelled by statements of how many cities in the Empire maintained a great deal of independence while still under the safety of the Kainus. Rumors of the great Leroani magic that was given to the homes of the people to help them live their lives in more comfort were planted so that they could begin to grow.

Veransa

Long a very independent and religious state, the city of Veransa stood between the mighty Kainan empires, having successfully maintained it's independence through military might and well thought out diplomacy. Things did not look to be changing for this monarchy any time soon as the ruler was an overly proud man. His small family was strong and, with an air of arrogance, unworried that either the Koronan or the Uriendel would attack. It would lead to an almost immediate war that at the time, neither side could afford to wage.

A ship pulled into the harbor, carrying, among it's many passengers and religious zealots, six men and a woman who quickly found some rooms at an inn and set up shop. From here their work could begin, it was something they'd trained for for years, now it was a matter of getting the plan to work.

[Cynical Cat]

Gulf of Viconia

The Witch King uttered a terrible world. The captain fell screaming as his left kneecap shattered. "I do not endure lies and discourtesy from Viconian pirates," Malevan said coldly. He gestured with Biter towards the crew. Marrowcrusher was held at the ready. "Your forefathers knew enough to fear my wrath, if nothing else. Yield."

[Charon]

Four of the orcs fell, but the rest kept coming, some of them wildly discharging crossbows as they charged.

"CHOP 'EM UP, BOYZ," shouted the big one at the head of the pack as they closed on the scouts.

One of the scouts cried out as a bolt tore into his right shoulder, he stumbled and fell, soon being trampeled and chopped up by the Orcs that were coming. Eventually the Orcs had closed the distance and the scouts quickly turned, drawing swords to hold off the attackers until reinforcements could arrive. As four of the scouts desperately held a defensive screen against 2 to 1 odds the fifth reloaded his crossbow as quickly as he could and then fired at the biggest Orc.

[Cynical Cat]

Gulf of Viconia

"How unfortunate for you that your nation chose to make intolerable provocations," said Malevan coldly. "And peaceful merchant men who choose to fire ballistas at the Night Dragon when he flies over are fools who deserve to be devoured. And peaceful merchant men don't lurk hidden on patrol." He pointed Biter at the sailor, who fell over his flesh blackening and sloughing off his bones. "Lying to me is unwise. It carries consequences."

[Comrade Tortoise]

As soon as Darkness fell over Lars Port, the Hylidaeians went to work, they took up spade and axe. They worked in shifts to construct that which would shield them from enemy fire. All through the night the defenders could hear them cut down trees and fashion them into Dahhok knew what.

[Rogue 9]

The Sacred Mountain

Manevius and Korsius sat around the dieing embers of a bonfire. They had little use for the warmth, and the troll preferred his meat raw, but there were some among the Morsum who ate cooked food, as did the giants. He certainly wasn't one to argue, and had his uses. The troll had found a large piece of slate, and having taken to drawing on it with burnt embers, approximated what he would call a reasonable depiction of the mountain. Black against a gray sky.

The place was rife with something, though the troll couldn't tell. Just that there was more to it than he cared to consider. Several teams of scouts--mostly his men--had been sent out a few hours ago, they should be reporting in. Should there be a cave system large enough, Korsius had informed them that Helalsius planned to make a Morkan settlement here, perhaps even a kind of fortress. And something about other plans. The giant had gone on too long and the frost-troll had honestly stopped listening after about five minutes.

The Sacred Mountain

So. Giants and Urskan thought to intrude on his domain. Sepsecolskegyth smiled wickedly to himself as he peered down at their campfires. They would be fun to break and scatter, though with so many, he'd have to be careful. The mighty white dragon took to the air, intentionally interposing himself between the army and the moon at a long distance before wheeling to disappear behind the mountain.

[Rogue 9]

Gulf of Viconia

"How unfortunate for you that your nation chose to make intolerable provocations," said Malevan coldly. "And peaceful merchant men who choose to fire ballistas at the Night Dragon when he flies over are fools who deserve to be devoured. And peaceful merchant men don't lurk hidden on patrol." He pointed Biter at the sailor, who fell over his flesh blackening and sloughing off his bones. "Lying to me is unwise. It carries consequences."

"What are your terms," the captain managed to gasp out through clenched teeth as he clutched his ruined knee.

[Rogue 9]

Four of the orcs fell, but the rest kept coming, some of them wildly discharging crossbows as they charged.

"CHOP 'EM UP, BOYZ," shouted the big one at the head of the pack as they closed on the scouts.

One of the scouts cried out as a bolt tore into his right shoulder, he stumbled and fell, soon being trampeled and chopped up by the Orcs that were coming. Eventually the Orcs had closed the distance and the scouts quickly turned, drawing swords to hold off the attackers until reinforcements could arrive. As four of the scouts desperately held a defensive screen against 2 to 1 odds the fifth reloaded his crossbow as quickly as he could and then fired at the biggest Orc.

The large orc took the bolt in the shoulder, grunted, and kept coming, his battlecry echoing through the forest.

"WAAAAAAAAAGH!"

[Cynical Cat]

Gulf of Viconia

"You can start rowing for Skarabrak now and you'll be taken as prisoners of war. You will be fed and housed and your wounds tended. You will not be taken as slaves, mistreated or slain. That is the way I have always conducted wars and if anyone of you know your history you will know I speak truth."

He paused. "Or you can choose not surrender and I kill you all here and now. So row or die."

[Rogue 9]

"I somehow missed us being at war," he forced out. "But if you say we are, who am I to gainsay?" Through a supreme act of will, he sat up and looked at one of the men. "Do it." Then he collapsed.

The ship's air-sorcerer, Renard, floated invisible just above the crow's nest. His lightning had been almost totally ineffective, and he knew better than to try to attack the Witch-King in this position. He turned and flew as fast as his spell would carry him towards Viconia.

[Charon]

The large orc took the bolt in the shoulder, grunted, and kept coming, his battlecry echoing through the forest.

"WAAAAAAAAAGH!"

The cry was cut short as two bolts dug deeply into the neck of the Orc. The reinforcements had arrived as the second of the scouts that were in melee got cut down. The victorious Orcs were met by further bolts from the shadows as the scouts renewed their assault.

[Cynical Cat]

Gulf of Viconia

Green flame streamed from the eyesockets of Malevan's war mask, striking the flying sorcerer. His burning corpse fell into the ocean. "Fool," he said softly. "Did he think I forgot the lightning or that stealth magic would fool the one who mastered the Forest?"

He turned toward the crew. "Row."

[Dark Silver]

Belt'hass nodded his head, motioning to his airships and the flapping forms of the dracholiches.

"We sssshall proceed asss sssoon asss possssssible. The Lord of Demisssse intendssssss for our enemiesssss to be dealt with ssssswiftly. Prepare your armiessssss for march."

With that, the Snake-man was back on the gantry, being lifted back onto his ship.

[Charon]

Lars Port

As the men worked in the dark, the men on the towers looked towards the camp of the enemy trying to determine what was going on. Cloaked figures took to the walls and chanted old words, their eyes flashing briefly as they stared intently at the wooden constructions. A few moments later the figure would faint, having seen only a bright figure standing infront of them. When the figures finally did re-awaken they told of large wooden walls being built, but beyond that they could see nothing.

Meditating infront of the construction site, a ring of torches surrounding him was Gregori, he kept the daemonic essenses at bay for now. Keeping the actions of the Hylidaeians as secret as he could.

The port of Lars was still open and many citizens took advantage of this as they took to whatever could float and fled for their lives, many leaving all of their posessions behind in an attempt to run. After the first hour many were stopped at halberd point however. The ships who had gotten passengers on board fled the area before the warships of Lars Port could be brought to bear, though not all of them made it either as flaming ballista bolts claimed the lives of citizens.

Many who tried to slip past the barricade made by the soldiers were killed, their bodies dragged to the top of the walls and then thrown off the edge, creating a long pile of bodies that stretched the length of the walls, centered around the large gate where the pile of bodies almost reached the top of the oaken doors. Other dead were stuck on pikes and posted around the walls, left to the birds and decay. All through the night the screams of the dead and dying could be heard as nearly 2/3's of the cities population was killed off.

Many of the rest of the third had managed to flee either before, during, or after the slaughter. Taking to safer waters and safer territories.

[Charon]

Near Yawgmon's Banner

With the reinforcements the scouts made quick work of the Orc preliminary force. That meant that the rest of their forces couldn't be that far away, a few hours perhaps. Loading another signal arrow, this time colored red. After disposing of the Orc bodies by cutting off their heads and returning the bodies of the dead scouts to camp they set about their work again, they would have to be extra diligent now to catch sight of the enemy army and take note of their composition among other vital factors.

[LadyTevar]

Æthelmearc Territorial Waters

"Another ship of refugees sighted, Captain," the mate reported dutifully.

The warship's captain frowned, shaking her head. "We still do not have orders, so again, let them by. Have a scoutship guide them north, deeper into our waters, as before. If the ship is unsailable, let me know."

"The scoutships closer to land report battle on the docks, Captain." The words were flatly spoken, trying for an even report.

"Snakes take them.... There were no soldiers on the docks, only townsfolk fleeing.' The captain made her decison. "Continue watching and let only those fleeing LarsPort though. I'll report to the Admiral, and on my head be it."

[Thirdfain]

Kaldic Mountains
Csabrag Pass

In the moonless shadow of night the soldiers moved. The glittering fireflies of the burning censors marked the strong Korlechi column. Pikes, swords, and the mighty steel crossbows of the Immortals glinted dully. The jagged peaks of the Kaldics stood on each side of the deep pass like soldiers, deadly hazards in the pitch night. The grand airships of the Ilithian fleet followed the Korlechi column, keeping stately pace.

Ahead lay Csabrag Fortress, gateway to the rich lowlands of Korlech. It commanded the exit from the pass, it's fortified bulk armoured with smooth walls of granite. A medium town by the same name ran down the hills beside it, seperated from the State Highway by a long, low town wall and stockade.

A grand muster-field had been cleared just inside the pass, protected by the ballistae of the fortress. The dark was pushed back by great burning beacons, illuminating the field.

"Landing sites for the Ilithian airships. Their commanders are invited to the Fortress to meet with the Lords of Transkaldia. The two honved raised in this area are still arriving. Will you do this fortress the honor of your presence? The Lord Embalmed of Transkaldia wishes to relate the lay of the land across the border- his spies in the last trade caravan have marked the position of the enemy border-places. We should be able to cross the border before sunrise."

Burning beacons

[frigidmagi]

"Gentlemen, the word as come down. We are to move into our forward positions. Remember your training, your forefathers and your gods and we will not fail this day. Altian bless." Nesidaltian, general of the western army said to the assembled offciers, sending them off into their units.

Thousands of pikemen were forming into column as Sky Guard and Priest-Mages formed for the finial deployment. Time was almost over. The Temple Guard began to move out as Nesidaltian grabbed a horse and a sip of water.

"Gods above and Goddess' below, remember us in the coming days even if we do not remember you..."