Embedded Files
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[401] Gwynn: It Begins (part 1, storychain)
Mon Apr 21 16:27:37 2003
To: Knighthood All Austinian Imm
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A knock sounded at the door, loud and insistent, it startled her out of
her reverie as she poured over parchments and reports.
"Come." She called out, and brushed her work off to the side.
The door opened quickly and a young knight stepped through, his face flushed
and his breathing rapid. He paused a moment to compose himself then swiftly
brought his hand up in a sharp salute before he stepped towards the desk.
The Lady Crown rose from her desk and nodded, acknowledging his salute.
"Lady Crown.." He began breathlessly before he paused and swallowed a
moment then began again, this time a bit more calmly. "My Lady, I have only
just arrived and have brought you this urgent report from my commander in
the field. I was to bring it posthaste and place it into your hands only.
"
The young knight stopped suddenly, sucked in a breath, then thrust the
rolled parchment towards Gwynn. She watched him carefully for a moment,
reading his expression and tenseness. Something in the pit of her stomach
clenched then rolled. Her hand moved slowly to accept the parchment, part
of her not really wanting to take it from him.
Upon being released from his obligation, the knight sighed deeply and the
full extent of his weariness became evident in the lines around his eyes.
He glanced down ruefully at his mud spattered armor and began to stutter
some apology before Gwynn cut him off with a slight smile.
"Go.. Rest yourself, you have had a long, hard journey. Someone will find
you a decent meal and a bedroll for you to sleep on. You'll be staying with
us?" She asked with brows raised.
He bowed slightly in thanks as he shook his head. "No my lady, I must
return as soon as I am able. I may be needed. "
"It is that serious?" She asked sharply, as her gaze, which had gone to the
message quickly returned to him.
He hesitated a fraction, the look in his eyes told more truth than any of
his words would, "My Lady, it is... Dire."
She held his eyes a moment before he dropped his gaze to his boots. She
nodded once, then looked away and unrolled the parchment. The knight stood
for a moment and watched her. She was young and nearly half his size. He
frowned as the protective instinct flowed through him and made a silent vow.
His life for hers if ever such a choice came to pass. He almost stepped
towards her, an arm twitched in response to his feelings, then she looked up
at him. Green eyes asked a question of him and he could neither move nor
speak. Then, much as the sun breaks through the clouds after a harsh rain,
she smiled at him. A strong, reassuring smile and the tightness in his
chest eased. A sharp salute and he left the Crown's office and the Crown,
to the private reading of the news.
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[402] Gwynn: It Begins (part 2, storychain)
Mon Apr 21 16:43:27 2003
To: Knighthood All Austinian Imm
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It began, briefly and without preamble.
General,
They have taken the town. We are on the retreat with half of my knights
having fallen. We have stopped to make a stand, a last one I fear, at the
rim of the valley to the south. We are greatly out numbered, General. I
have sent this message to you in hopes it will reach you and reinforcements
will arrive.
I can only pray that they will be in time.
- Captain Bartholomew R. Moray
She took a deep breath, paused a moment and then slowly rolled the parchment
back up. She stared off at nothing for a moment then her fists wrapped
around the report, crumpling it before she tossed it down on her desk. The
Crown took up her weapons and armor as long purposeful strides brought her
quickly to the door. She flung it wide and strode through it, her voice
called out to the guard.
"Summon the Generals and officers to me and send word to the stables to
saddle my horse. Notify the first and second units. We ride within the
hour." She spoke quickly.
The guard quickly left to carry out his orders. She watched him go a moment
before she walked up to the table to rest her hands upon it. The Crown
stared down at the marred surface until the Generals arrived. She looked up
and quickly went to the point.
"Our knights in northern Icewall have been overrun. They were not able to
hold the town. They have fallen back in retreat and have suffered heavy
losses. The captain in command has sent word that they are gathering their
efforts for a stand in a valley to the south of the town. Previous reports
tell us that it is a mercenary group with no known kingdom affiliation. It
is comprised mostly of yinn, ogre and goblin that has been terrorizing the
local townships for the last moon or so. Three nights ago they attacked the
town our knights were garrisoned in. This is the first news I have had
since the attack'
"I'll take two units with me and officers from the Lance and Shield. We
leave within the hour. We ride hard and fast. I hope to arrive before the
sun rise and be in time to fortify our unit there." She finished.
She held her hand up as objections began.
"We have no time for argument. Prepare."
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[403] Gwynn: It Begins (part 3, storychain)
Mon Apr 21 16:47:29 2003
To: Knighthood All Austinian Imm
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The Lady Crown withdrew from the table and strode to the steps to make
her way quickly down to the lower level. She turned into the stables,
bustling and loud with preparations, she motioned Giles to her and she had a
quiet word with him. He nodded, handed her a set of saddlebags then set
about his orders as she left. The Crown paused at the statue of Tesalon
Gareth in the hall to stare up at him, she listened to the sounds of the
Keep. She sighed deeply, rested a hand momentarily on the statue then went
to find Stanley to fill her saddlebags with provisions.
Before the hour was gone all was in readiness. She sat her horse calmly and
looked out across the faces of the Knights. The soft clank and scrape of
weapons and boots echoed of the walls of the Keep and mingled with the quiet
orders being given as the knights formed their ranks and waited.
The Crown shifted a leg and her steed stepped forward, fresh and spirited.
She removed her gloves and tucked them into her belt then reached up to
remove her circlet. A soft word and her steed stopped, one large hoof pawed
at the stones impatiently while his mouth worked the bit. Gwynn bowed her
head and raised her voice to carry, her words filled the courtyard.
Heavenly Father, we pray for Your blessings. Keep us strong, Father, that
we might bring forth Your light and sweep back the tide of evil. Teach us
to be wise, Father, that we might see Your will and be Your tool. Help us
be compassionate, Father, that we might forgive those who do evil. May Your
grace illuminate us, light our path and lift us up. We humbly offer our
thanks for Your many gifts. Amen.
A chorus of agreement rang out, some a quiet whisper and some shouting it
out. Quickly she circled her mount around the Knights and offered the
Father's blessings to them all. A few began to pound their shields with the
hilt of their swords.
Gwynn spurred her steed, wheeled him to the front and unsheathed her sword.
She raised it high over her head as the steed sat back on his haunches. The
horse gathered its powerful hindquarters and his front hooves raised off the
flagstones. She pressed her legs against his flanks and leaned forward as
he leapt through the gate and into the dark. The clamor of many Knights,
riding hard, followed close on her heels.
-=*=-
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[406] Wales: It Begins: A squire's diligence.
Mon Apr 21 23:08:26 2003
To: Knighthood All Nadrik Imm
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The night was cool and clear with patches of pinprick-stars scattered
about the sky. A young squire sat on a stool cleaning the hooves of a large
steed. The stables were quiet except for the gentle movement of the horses
as they shifted about in their stalls.
A soft chatter of voices interrupted the quiet dim. Several knights
appeared in full armor and arranged saddles on their mounts. The squire
looked on in a confused stupor as the knights led their horses from the
stable into the dark night.
A large gathering of knights arranged itself in the front halls of the Keep.
The glorious walls that had been home to legendary knights, such is Gareth
Keep. With their proud fortification, the knights, in turn, gain strength
and will. The squire wiped the grime from his hands as he approached the
front hall. Two guards in full armor stood tall under massive torches.
Light reflected off of their platemail. They offered a solemn nod and
allowed the young man to pass. A soft voice carried on the wind, throughout
the hall. It was serious and calm, comforting and uplifting, foreboding and
tremulous. It was a battle dirge spoken to soldiers of war.
The Lady Gwynn sat atop her horse, praying for the knights standing at
attention before her. The lone squire leaned against the stone wall as he
watched in silence. Just beyond the battalion stood the great statue of
Tesalon Gareth, founder of the Knighthood. All at once the congregation
began to pound their shields with the hilts of their swords. The sound
reverberated throughout the hall
The squire looked on in amazement and a single tear slipped from his eye.
Without a second thought he grabbed a sword from the racks, placed a helm on
his head, and rode after the warparty.
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[407] Amargein: It begins: Called back to duty (storychain)
Tue Apr 22 01:27:54 2003
To: Knighthood Austinian Immortal All
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At a small inn, in a discrete location...
A rapping at the door gracefully broke the night time peacefulness of the
Colonel's room. Amargein shuffled some papers and a small a book marked
"mac Morna" off to the side and rose to answer the visitor. As Amargein
approached the door, the knocking begain again, a little more insistent than
last time.
Outside, a slender elvish man wearing a brown, drab robe waited, surveying
the area cautiously. The door opened.
"Quickly", Amargein whispered, pulling the elf inside forcefully. "What is
it, thief? ", Amargein demanded.
"I have interesting news... Regarding your... Knights, Mister Morna... ",
bartered the elf. The elf responded in a dry, business-like manner, giving
a particularly disdainful inflection to the word 'knights'. Nonetheless,
the Colonel's interest was piqued, and the elf continued, "... For a price.
"
"Of course... ", grumbled Amargein as he walked over to the nightstand his
room was furnished with. He drew out a small pouch, and lobbed it torwards
the elf. The elf caught the pouch and weighed it, measuring the contents
carefully.
The elf arched a brow, paused briefly, and then began, "Our...
Associates... Have returned word from around Althainia and Icewall. The
situation on Icewall has escalated, and your homefront has shown signs of
increased activity. Apparently, there has been a run on the encampment in
Icewall, and reinforcements will be required. There is also a rumour of...
"
"What rumour? ", Amargein interjected.
"Ice goblins I believe, however 'tis only heresay and nothing else at the
moment, Mister Morna. I just thought you should be informed, Colonel. "
The elf smiled, enjoying the disconcerting report he had just given.
A grim look passed over Amargein's face. He knew the casualties would be
high, and it would take a back breaking effort to refortify the outpost on
Icewall. Supplies would have to be funneled to and from nearby garrisons,
and reinforcements would have little to no notice to begin their movements.
Amargein was compelled to act in light of this startling news.
"Anything else? ", Amargein queried.
"Yes... ", the elf paused again, smiling at the Colonel, "... News travels
quickly, my lord. "
"Keep your mouth shut", Amargein responded flatly, produced another sack of
coin, and tossed it at the elf.
"If that is all, I need you to leave now. "
"Of course, Mister Morna. Erm, one more thing... "
Amargein grumbled again, "What? "
"I wish you and yours well", the elf jeered.
Amargein responded emotionlessly, "Good evening. "
"Indeed! ", the elf chimed, showing himself out of the room with a
flourish.
In the middle of the night, the Colonel made his preparations...
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[408] Perion: It begins: Can't teach an old dog new tricks.
Tue Apr 22 02:44:12 2003
To: Knighthood Austinian Imm All
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Perion stared bleakly out at the hoardes. He had been in many combat
situations, but never with the odds so stacked against him or any in his
command. The town was over run with the forces of some rogue mercs. He
gazed out and checked their forces with a keen eye. "Ahh, I see many of my
old battlefield friends, even got the goblins involved eh?" Perion reared
up his steed and let his sword snake forth before him as a beacon to all the
soldiers that had been mustered around him. "Let us pray for the souls that
will be lost today. At the end of his words he began to move his small
amount of troops towards the town in a long line of battleharden men.
Perion sent a silent pray for more reinforcements. He secretly habored
thoughts that this might be his last horay. As they neared the towns arrows
from some of the goblins were shot fourth from the sides of the walls. The
men held, some falling from the poison tiped arrows, while others covered up
with their shields high above their head. The men avoided the missiles as
they approached. There would be much more bloodshed to come. These evil
doers would have to be smited down.
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[409] Leumas: It begins: Combat, Glory, and Supply Lines
Tue Apr 22 10:26:21 2003
To: all Knighthood Immortals ( Austinian )
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Icewall.
He hated the cold. Always had, likely always would.
Where the Crown went though, he went, and short of reading his mind he was
certain that noone would have been let on to his begrudgement. From atop
the clydesdale he scanned the line of men ahead of him, and then gave a
precursory glance behind to ensure that the line was being maintained behind
him as well. For all the comings and goings, the chaos that came after the
God's war when Knighthood finally had beaten their age old foes within
Malice, he could state with pride that the discipline Gareth was known for
held true. Here these men were, on relative moment's notice, trudging up
the blistering coast of the coldest land on Algoron and not a one moved out
of line, not a one has voiced complaint, although he was certain that some
if not most hated the cold as much as he did.
Leumas wheeled the charger around and rode back the little ways to the first
of the supply wagons. It was too cold here to wear their armor the entire
way, the metal would've grown so cold that it would appear to burn men's
skin. Thus the need to trudge their gear under lock with them rather than
wear it as they might've had the patrol been heading to Arkane or Althainia
rather than the lands Deep Water protected.
When the time came to volunteer leading the different batallions he had sat
quietly as the other officers had chosen combat units, glory came to the
younger man through victory over evil doers. Glory came to him by making
sure that the supplies that would allow the younger men to have their
victory actually arrived where and when it was supposed to. Little could
end a military campaign faster than broken down or absent supply lines, and
if he was anything, he was efficient at getting the job done and done right.
He hoped his squires would one day understand this, if not already, since it
often appeared that the squires and pages of today would much rather learn
to fight rather than learn how best to ensure that fighting need not happen.
Tomorrow the battle would be joined, but for today the paladin would watch
over plate mail and rations. Tomorrow death would be handed out to both the
righteous and the wicked alike, but for today he, the Champion of Austinian,
would do his damndest to make sure that the men on his side would at least
have one last good meal before going to meet whatever glory they could find.
He pulled his winter cloak more closely around him as he returned to his
vanguard, satisfied that the wagons were still rolling without hinderance.
Now if only he could get out of this damned cold...
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[411] Mance: It Begins: Into the Night, a Squire's Tale
Tue Apr 22 12:44:31 2003
To: Knighthood All Nadrik Imm
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He flexed his fingers, then blew his warm breath over them. Some of the
feeling had left in the cold, not only in his fingers but his toes as well.
Mance stamped his feet on the floor boards of the supply wagon and glanced
over his shoulder time and time again. He would get a crick in his neck,
but he'd be damned if he'd let anything happen to Lieutenant Lamonde's
armor. As her squire it was his duty to tend it as well as her horse. It
didn't hurt to make sure she took time for a hot meal either, when or if
they stopped he'd be sure to see to that.
The wagons moved inexorably through the darkest part of the night. Strips
of linen had been tied around the jingling pieces of bridles and chains.
Their progress through the dark was not silent but as quiet as it possibly
could be considering the size of their force.
Mance rubbed at his nose which had begun to run in the cold Icewall air. He
blew out a plum of breath and it hung like a curtain of white in the night
before him. He shook his head and muttered under his breath. He hunched
his shoulders against the cold and pulled his thick wool cloak closer around
him.
He was somewhere in the middle of the march as best as he could figure, many
knights before him and behind. From time to time an officer would ride by
at a gallop, his charger's hooves pounding in the snow and kicking it up to
fly in the air behind it.
Mance looked at the faces of the Knights nearby, vague shadows in the
darkness of the night. A few whispered to each other, most grimly watched
in front of them or scanned the area vigilantly. A few held their talismans
of faith and whispered their prayers quietly. Over all the mood was somber
and controlled. These men and women knew their job and would perform it to
their upmost ability.
Mance hugged his cloak tighter as a gust of cold air slammed into them. It
was worse close to the shore, the cold air was misted with the spray of the
waves that crashed ashore.
Enough to make a grown man curse in five tongues, he mused. They could not
arrive soon enough as far as he was concerned.
Cold as it was, he had no regrets. This was why he was here, with the
Knights, to protect the weak and innocent and vanquish evil. The Lord's
will be done. Buffeted by another frigid gust he hunched his shoulders
again and said his own prayer, his whispered words lost in the night's march
into battle.
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[412] Aelion: It Begins: Occurences, Duty.
Tue Apr 22 12:49:50 2003
To: Knighthood Nadrik Austinian Imm All
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Cold.
There was not much else on his mind at this point, the freezing cold that
Icewall was known for was slowly sending a chill to his very being. The
darker the day grew, the colder it got and the harder it was to walk. The
day's events flashed before his eyes.
Aelion was resting on a pew beside the Altar when one of the Pages entered
the hall and urged him to rush to the Hall of Knights, a large chamber
nearby the Altar. There are many such inspections and training sessions
that are held at that Hall by the Offciers, and he had assumed it to be the
case this time as well. He was not prepared for what came next.
A mass of Knights of all orders and ranks were huddled together between the
grand statues in the Chamber, and before them stood an officer of the Lance,
one Aelion did not recognize. His words were brief, he had informed the
crowd that we have very little time to prepare for a hard and tiresome
march, and that one of the garrisons in northern Icewall was in dire need
for aid.
At first, he thought that the prepartions would take hours upon hours,
perhaps even days, but he was amazed with what truly happened, within but a
hour or two, in what had appeared as a flawless operation, the entire army
of the Knights of Gareth was ready for a march, and Aelion was awed, for he
has not seen anything like this his entire life.
However, the awe he felt was slowly replaced by annoyance and cold as the
march continued, he had spent the day with the other squires and his Sir,
Colonel Circe. His day has gotten even worse when he has learned that from
all the units in the Knight's army, he was assigned to the supply lines, at
the back of the army, along with his Sir. Although, Aelion has said nothing
of his disappointment to anyone, as long as his Honor stood, he would not
leave his Sir or neglect any of his duties for those were his life now.
And so Aelion remained by his Sir' side, ready to aid him in whatever task
is needed of him. This was hardly what he had expected from his first march
with the Knights of Gareth.
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[414] Amargein: It Begins: Bloody Snow
Tue Apr 22 14:53:38 2003
To: Knighthood Austinian Immortal All
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Ice and wind ripped through flaming red hair...
Amargein drew his hood up and turned his face away to defend himself from
the abusive treatment administered by the weather. The Colonel staggered
and stumbled forward through the onslaught of hail and wind; he motioned to
his party to press forward. A shortage in the stables deprived their
company of needed transportation - Amargein's party had been among the last
hasty departures from Gareth.
Sir Morna knew the clergy would be needed; they would aid the sick and
wounded, strengthen morale, and administer last rites to the fallen.
Amargein hoped it was more of the former rather than the latter, but his
grim heart told him otherwise.
Amargein dwelled drearily on the subject, imagining the worst: pulling one
of Gareth's own out of the snow. Whose body would he turn to face him:
Lieutenant Bolter, Sir Perion, or Lady Crown Gwynn Struan herself? Who
would he bury this time?
Prompted by his sense of dread, Amargein stopped, turned and motioned to his
company to halt. He shouted several inaudible commands which were heard,
and understood. He beckoned a small, dark haired man to come foward, Sir
Francis St. Ames, a priest particularly skilled in divination - Amargein
was always fond of priests, Faith and Humility were there cornerstone.
Kneeling in the snow, the Colonel and the priest held hands, and prayed -
seeking out the journey ahead, the presence of his comrades, and the state
of the Knights' Icewall defence.
Elsewhere...
In the distance, earth shakes; screams and shouts are barely audible through
the wails and moans of the storm. Broken bodies cascade the landscape, and
unnatural flames thrive on the carnage despite the weather. A massive
volley of flaming arrows stream across the battlefield from the northwest
into the Knights' southern defence; another chorus of pained vocals are
heard.
Bloody snow and ice slowly subjugated the hillside...
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[415] Galavant: It begins: Out of Gareth.
Tue Apr 22 16:39:47 2003
To: Knighthood Nadrik imm rp all
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Galavant sat at his tiny desk, peering down at the massive tome before
him. Slowly, deliberately, he added up the columns of numbers on the page,
mumbering quietly to himself.
'Horse feed... 3 gold.. Four new saddles... 6 gold a piece.. Shovel
repai--'
A gauntleted fist slammed hard against the wooden door in his room, and
Galavant's quill scratched across the parchment, tearing into not only his
current page, but several underneath it as well. He muttered darkly,
turning to look at the intruder at his door.
"I-I'm sorry, m'Lord Keiyns! But this is urgent! One of our northern
protectoretes is under attack! The Lady Crown has commanded that we will
ride within the hour!"
The captain was on his feet immediately, shoving past the page and leaving
him to stand bewildered at the doorway to his room.
Galavant inwardly detested the ritual of donning armor. Both my necessity
and custom, it was the squire's job to help outfit his knight. Chain
hauberk, breastplate, shin guards, armplates. But this time, it was
different. Expedience was paramount.
He strode into the war room as Gwynn began to speak, still buckling the
clasps on his gauntlets. A few knights began to protest, but from most,
there was grim acceptence of the task at hand.
It was not uncommon for Knighthood to send small garrisons of soldiers to
outposts and tiny villages in the wilderness. It was not highly
sought-after duty, but was important nonetheless. A knight's blade defends
the helpless.
A prayer, a drink of water, a salute, and they were off to icewall.
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[416] Galavant: It Begins: Advance Guard
Tue Apr 22 16:42:30 2003
To: Knighthood Nadrik immortal rp all
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It was cold on Icewall. Bloodae cold, a northerner would likely say.
Galavant smiled slightly as he remembered his old comdrade, Laegard
Rolanche, a highlander himself. Laegard had died in a battle of another
sort..
Galavant remembered that day well. The battle of Gaar Volen. The day that
Nadrik's wrath had been unleashed upon the hordes of Malice. There had been
ogres and goblins and yaennie there, too. They had burned the corpses of
the vile, that day. But they had buried comrades, as well. It would be
much the same, this battle.. But there would be differences. Many
differences. Then, he had not been a...
'Captain!' a young man shouted over the wind. 'Is there a problem?'
Galavant realized, with a startled snort, that he had stopped moving. The
rest of his unit had done the same, looking at their commanding officer
curiously. The captain shook his head.
'No! Keep moving! ' His voice was barely audible over the screaming wind,
the sound of waves crashing against the the rocky shore.
He looked over his men as they rode forward. He was leading an advance
guard of knights towards the valley they would be defending. By the time
the rest of the slower-moving army arrived, he hoped to have the injured
(and likely demoralized) garrison in shape.
They moved at a punishing pace, stopping only when absolutely necessary.
Lesser men would not have been able to make the journey so quickly. But
these were Lance knights, Galavant thought to himself with an inward smile.
He was privlidged to be one, blessed to lead them. And like a Lance, they
were striking towards the very heart of the problem. Even their horses were
stronger and hardier, the Captain thought to himself.
They continued onward.
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[418] Galavant: It Begins: Arrival
Tue Apr 22 17:31:22 2003
To: Knighthood immortal Nadrik rp all
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It had been a hard ride. If not for magical assistance from a cleric in
the unit, the horses would have collapsed hours ago. But that hardly
mattered now, as they approached the end of their ride. Just over the ridge
lay the valley..
There was a shout from the camp below as they became visible. Instantly,
the garrison sprang into action, moving to defend themselves from the
unknown intruders.
On command, a page lifted a long wooden pole high into the air and waved it
quickly. The blue and white cloth wrapped tightly around it unfurled
immediately, whipping and snapping in the angry winds of Icewall. Even from
a distance, the emblems were clearly identifiable. The Crown, the Lance,
the Shield.
The Knighthood.
All at once, a cheer came up from the embittered garrison. Galavant smiled
broadly. No Knight could help to be moved by the sight of the Flag, not
even in a situation like this. The advance guard moved quickly into the
camp.. Each of them hoping for a warm meal and blazing fire, all of them
knowing there was too much work to be done for any of that.
A largish man approached Galavant, flanked by a pair of aides. He wore only
a light leather hauberk, but his bars denoted him a Captain. That would
make him...
'Captain! I am Bartholomew R. Moray, captain of this garrison. Thank
Nadrik you've arrived! I thought the Lady Crow-' He looked over Galavant's
small troop briefly, eyes shadowed with fatigue.
'Is this all Gareth has sent us? '
Galavant shook his head.
'Of course not, Mr. Moray. I'm here as an advance to help prepare your
camp for the rest of our forces. Two full units, and the Crown herself.
We'll have armor and rations for your men. '
Moray's answer was no more than a sharp salute, but there was something else
in his eyes now. Hope. And that was a good thing.
'Come along then, Captain Keiyns. We'll have your horses taken care of, and
you can review our defenses and attack plans. I think you'll like some of
what we've set up for the horde... '
The two men walked off towards the officers' tent, grimly discussing the
days to follow.
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[419] Bolter: Storynote chain (preparing)
Tue Apr 22 18:19:23 2003
To: Knighthood all
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Bolter was resting in the temple of Nadrik when a page rushed in
breathing heavily.
Lieutenant Bolter? He called between breaths.
Aye? Bolter looked upon the page with concern, knowing that the news he
brought could not have been good.
Sir, I have a message for ye from Colonel Amargein, he says to prepare for
Icewall. He wishes ye to assemble more clerics and supplies to tend to the
injured. When completed, set out for icewall with the next group. The
page spit out the words quickly and was finally managing to catch his
breath.
Very well then. Bolter replied, Inform the colonel that I shall have a
team together within an hour.
The page nodded and ran back out of the room. Bolter stood to his feet and
left to prepare his team for departure.
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[420] Bolter: Storynote chain Arrival
Tue Apr 22 18:30:55 2003
To: Knighthood
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Bolter arrived on Icewall with his team. He pulled his robe up closer
around him attempting in vain to shut out the freezing wind that was blowing
all around him. He then took his team who were on foot as Giles had already
issued out the rest of the horses, and led them to a large group of Knights
formed up just ahead. Each man carried packs conaining a blanket or two as
well as supplies to tend to the injured. He was well impressed with the
dedication and training of the Knights as each one took the bitter cold in
silence, none of these knights would whimper about such things even if it
did bother them sorely.
Bolter looked over his group one last time as they joined up with the rest
of the knights, they were in good spirits despite the weather and each was
ready to head to the front to battle the enemy and heal their comrades.
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[427] Gwynn: Darkest before the Dawn (part 4, storychain)
Tue Apr 22 22:58:00 2003
To: Knighthood All Austinian Imm
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The large hooves of her charger pounded in cushioned thumps onto the snow
packed ground. The steam rolled off his shoulders as the fine sheen of
sweat evaporated in the cold air. Great puffs of air billowed from his
nostrils as the charger's shortened strides bounded through the drifts of
snow. The jarring ride was starting to wear on her, that and the bitter
cold as it swept in off the water in a swirl of blowing snow.
Some of the Lance had gone ahead to bring word of their arrival. It had
been a risky move to allow some to press forward, but part of the train
simply was not moving fast enough. The snow was playing havoc with the
wheels of the wagons despite the spikes with which they had prepared them.
The Lance should be there. She pondered quietly, And the rest of us within
the half hour.
She pressed her leg against the side of her charger and he spun quickly in
response. A flick of a spurred heel and he was pounding back along the
lines through the trampled snow. She could feel he was tired, by Austinian
so was she, but he was too well trained to let her down now. He would drop
beneath her before he failed to heed her command.
Her eyes scanned the lines noting the tired faces that turned towards her.
She returned their salutes with an encouraging smile and a nod. She stopped
briefly at the supply wagons and had a quiet word with Leumas.
Dear Father, bless him for taking that command.
She knew it was in the best of hands.
She rode hard along the lines, back to the very last knight, squire and
page. Her charger side stepped in the snow as she rode along side them for
a moment. Taking a precious moment she learned their names and memorized
their faces. Though the night was bitter, she removed her head wear and let
her cloak fall back off her shoulders. They smiled at her and although the
night was bitter it suddenly seemed less so.
The Crown dropped her hands and the charger leapt forward. She sat deep
into the saddle and leaned back slightly. He composed himself and with a
very showy step made his way back along the lines. She could see smiles
break out in the faces as they turned to watch her pass. The tension she
had felt in them eased somewhat at her show of parade ground horsemanship
and apparent unconcern of the cold.
By the time she returned to the front of the lines, her smile was pasted on
through blue lips and a shiver ran deep into her bones. Likewise her
charger blew hotly, nostrils flared and sides heaved. She motioned to a
knight behind her and he tossed a spare cloak her way. She draped it across
the charger's shoulders and let him slow his pace.
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[428] Gwynn: Darkest before the Dawn (part 5, storychain)
Tue Apr 22 23:02:25 2003
To: Knighthood All Austinian Imm
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over the next rise, along the rim of the valley and deep into the old
growth forest, they came to the encampment. She slipped of the charger's
back, her cold feet stung a moment as they hit the ground, then gave him a
pat and a whispered word of praise. The charger nudged her with his muzzle
before she called a squire to see to his needs.
"Leave the cloak on him, I don't want him chilled. Only a small amount of
water and a few handfuls of oats. He'll be needed again soon. " Too soon
she thought to herself before giving out orders to the officers and making
her way to the command tent.
"Blessed Father, let there be some warmth in there." She whispered, before
she threw back the flap and entered. Moray and Galavant were inside, heads
bent over maps and talking quietly. Both looked up as she entered and
snapped a smart salute. With a nod she walked to the maps and began to take
in the news.
The enemy was stretched out on the other side of the valley, their forward
scout parties having just been spotted. Estimated placed their main force
no more than two hours away. There were no accurate counts on how many
strong they were, but they seemed to gather more to them as they swept
through the towns.. Either willingly or unwillingly. They were well armed
and for the most part experienced, battle-harded soldiers. Moray had twenty
knights left, of the fifty that had been stationed there, ten long bow
archers and ten pikemen.
A deep frown settled on her forehead as she listened to the briefing.
Later, she chided herself, later you can count the dead. Now it is time to
prepare so no more will be lost. Swiftly she made her decisions. The Lance
would take the left flank, along with Moray's remaining knights, archers and
pikes. The Crown would remain here with one of the remaining unit of
knights. The Crown would take the main brunt of the assault. Where the
enemy had expected Moray's remaining numbers they would be surprised to find
a full compliment of fresh seasoned Knights. The Shield would take the
right flank and hold attack until the Lance closed off the left.
With that, they dispersed and went about their various duties and
preparations. The Lance moved out along the left flank and the Shield along
the right, it would take a quarter of an hour for them to be in place.
Gwynn checked on her charger, pulled the cloak closer across his withers,
then went to find a quick cup of something hot. She cradled the cup
carefully in her hands as she made her rounds. Stifling a yawn, she watched
the hurried activity a moment before finding the tent assigned to her.
Placed carefully inside, clean and ready to be donned was her battle attire
and weapons. A young squire slept on a bundle of blankets near the low
burning brazier. She jolted awake at the Crown's entrance and hurried to
help lace and strap and buckle. When it was completed, Gwynn dismissed the
squire with a word of thanks.
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[429] Gwynn: Darkest before the Dawn (part 6, storychain)
Tue Apr 22 23:06:51 2003
To: Knighthood All Austinian Imm
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No sooner had the flap fallen when the first trumpet blared its warning
followed rapidly but another and another. Voices began to shout and the
darkest part of the night, the moment before dawn, was filled the sounds of
impending battle. Gwynn strode out of the tent and towards her charger as
it was brought up. She grasped the reins and mane in one hand and mounted.
She settled deep into the saddle, thrusting her feet deep in the stirrups
and brought her shield forward to her left side. She loosened her sword in
its scabbard as her charger bounded towards the front line. Quickly she
rode back and forth before the lines and called to the Father for His
blessings. She raised her voice to carry, that each knight might hear and
feel the blessing of the Father.
"Holy Father, we stand at the brink of battle. We come, Father, to protect
the innocent and bring Your justice to the unrepentant. Your strength,
Father, is in our arms. You are the steel of our blades, You are the
strength in our shield. Your wisdom shall carry us through any trial,
Father. Your wrath undoes the wicked."
With that she slid her sword from is scabbard and turned towards the tide of
dark warriors that spread like black water across the valley. She called
what protective magics she could down around herself and her knights as the
tide drew nearer.
Just as individual shapes began separate from the mass, the Crown raised her
sword and lead the charge.
Dawn broke over the horizon and bathed the valley in red.
-=*=-
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[430] Leumas: Darkest before the Dawn: Breakfast and Battle
Tue Apr 22 23:38:24 2003
To: Knighthood All Imm ( Austinian )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first of his wagons rumbled into camp before dawn, their draft horses
panting with exhaustion from the hard ride along the coast and into the
wastelands that yielded the forested valley where the garrison had stood
their ground. It didn't take him too long to figure out two things,
firstly, that the garrison remaining was much smaller than the one
stationed, and two, there'd be no getting out of the damndable cold.
He was pleased to see his newest squire had been true to his duties the
entire journey, although he could tell by the young man's demeanor that he,
like most of the squires longed to gain some glory in battle.
He almost could remember what it was like when he was the same way...
Almost.
With efficiency he had his men set up their stations, the mess, the stables,
the armory, all field units with what would be needed and not much else. He
asked his squire to set about making sure the Knights would have hot
porridge and at the very least some salted pork to go with their breakfast.
He was positive the lad was grumbling inside, but one day still he hoped he
would understand that without these mundane tasks, the army major would no
doubt crumble. Never underestimate the power of a hot meal, the paladin
thought to himself.
Nevertheless he knew that everyone involved here would eventually see
combat... The size remaining of the garrison and the estimated size of the
opponent force that he had heard mention of since arriving with the first
wagons had given him the insight that all components of this force, from the
Lance Captains to the cook himself would eventually bring arms to face this
opponent who had struck in earnest at their outpost.
Would that he could put off such an event, but it would not be so by the
end.
Seeing that the supplies were being delivered on time, Leumas turned to
attend to the orders his Lady Crown had given him in line when she had come
back to visit the wagons. He gave his squire final orders as to what to
attend to and then stated that he was to meet him at the armorer's in an
hour. Content with Aelion's response, the Colonel went to find the Crown
tents and pulled back the flap to the Command Pavillion and entered into the
chamber within. He nodded to those assembled and apologized briefly for
interrupting them. All shrugged off his apologies and asked him to come
forth to examine the map.
Gwynn showed the positions of the opponents and explained just how serious
the situations was...
Of the original garrison only 20 remained. The opponent had amassed a force
capable of great harm and they had spread across the valley to the opposite
side of their current location. Already the Lance's advance guard had
picked up the enemy's initial Scouting parties and it was estimated that the
main force would be but a pair of hours behind.
He, along with the other advanced officers of the Keep looked over the plans
and eventually all agreed that the Crown's plan should provide them with the
best opportunity. The Lance driving up the weaker left side of the
opponent, flanking him and drawning him into the middle. There the Crown
themselves would take the brunt of the assault, while the Shield defending
the right flank would close in around the opponent and end all hopes for
their foe.
It was a sound plan if the Crown knights and their task forces could hold
out against a battle-hardened veteran cadre of soldiers. He went out to
order the men of the force, not to stand fast, but rather to eat their
food... Porridge and pork. Many of the younger knights couldn't take a
bite, nerves had them... Most of the experienced ones ate with relish
knowing that they'd both need the sustenance for later as well as enjoy this
if it were to be their last meal on Algoron.
When the last bowl had been spooned out, and the last slab of meat forked,
Leumas met his squire at the armorer as promised.
The time for food had passed... It was time to prepare for combat.
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[431] Benedicte: The news (story chain)
Tue Apr 22 23:38:55 2003
To: knighthood all austinian imm
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Benedicte leaned against the wall and sighed heavily, his workload had
nearly doubled since his promotion and it was starting to wear on him. As
he was sitting down on the pew one of his squires came to him, a look of
pain across his face. Sir, you have been summoned by the Lady Crown,
effective immediately.... For duty. Benedicte pondered this a moment,
while he had always been orderd to do his regular patrols he had never been
called up for duty... Something must be terribly wrong. Pulling himself up
with a slight grimace, Benedicte followed his squire to the War Room, the
Lady Crown and all of the Knights stood there and looked around somberly.
Moray has requested reinforcements, they have been forced to retreat from
the town, everyone is to prepare as quickly as possible, it looks like we
are going to Icewall....
The preparations went surprisingly fast as the Knights lined up to board the
ship, yet there was no pleasure in this, for they all knew that there were
would be no rest tonight. Boarding the ship, Benedicte observed Knights
bustling about frantically, sharpening their swords and preparing their
horses. Making his way to the Captains and Generals, he quickly began to
learn what was to unfold.....
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[432] Wales: Darkest before the Dawn: The toils of War.
Wed Apr 23 02:34:45 2003
To: Knighthood All Nadrik Immortals
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The squire looked out at the cold, jagged landscape they had ventured to.
What were the Gods feeling as they shaped and developed this lifeless
expanse of mountains? Perhaps this is their resentment of the faithless
mortals.
He carried a bucket in which he scooped piles of crumbling snow. His orders
were to assist the blacksmith with repairs to weapons and armor. A job he
knew so well, seeing as how he came from a family of smiths. But this was
different. He saw the jagged cracks in the breastplates that still had
blood and flesh clinging to the steel. He heard the wails of injured
knights in the nursing quarters not far from where he slept. He could smell
the fear of his fellow squires in the bitter, arctic wind that raced about
the encampment. All of this loomed over him in the nothingness of Icewall.
Slowly, he brushed melted snow from his brow, stumbled to his feet, and
vomited.
With the bucket of snow in hand, he walked to the forge and set it atop the
fire. The encampment was a modest outpost. Only the bare necessities were
issued to the guards: a steel cuirass with a shirt of chain mail, a pair of
studded leather vambraces and greaves, a set of shoulder braces, and a steel
sallet. The arrival of Gareth's knights must have been a sight to see with
their splendid outfit of full plate mail and hand-crafted tunics and cloaks.
The squire stoked the fire with fresh kindling and allowed the heat to warm
his face.
A calm voice startled the squire from a moment of thought. An officer of
Gareth offered a greeting as he entered the forge. The young man, unsure of
who it was, snapped to attention as he saw the marks of Colonel. With a
quick flip of the wrist, a salute was made and the officer motioned for an
'at ease'. How calm and collected he seemed, prepared for the battle that
will come to be. What is it that fills him with such strength? Could it be
his experience on the field? Perhaps it is his indifference? Maybe it is
Faith? Whatever the motivation, the young squire could not fathom what
warmed the Colonel's spirit. The melancholy that sent shivers down the
boy's spine added to the freezing cold that burned his skin.
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[434] Wales: Darkest before the Dawn: The toils of War (2).
Wed Apr 23 06:09:51 2003
To: Knighthood All Nadrik Immortals
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The horns sounded right away.
Low, resounding baritone trumpets shattered the calm.
Every knight dropped what they had been doing and equipped for battle. The
dawn was nearing along with the threat of battle. Soldiers stationed
themselves at the bastions and the dawn light poured forth from the horizon.
"Boy! Grab a pike and brace the doors!" The officer stared grimly at the
squire.
Taking it all in, the young man hesitated and then added, "Yes, Sir. It
will be done."
With that, the squire balanced a twelve foot pole on his shoulder,
positioned it between the massive doors and the earthen ground, planted a
foot at the base, and waited for the oncoming hordes.
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[435] Aelion: Darkest before the Dawn: A hot meal.
Wed Apr 23 07:37:04 2003
To: Knighthood Gwynn Leumas All Imm ( Nadrik Austinian )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first of the Knight' tents came into view just as the cold was about
to become unbearble, Aelion had been at the side of the Colonel for most of
last night, and was chilled right down to his spine.
After setting up the encampent and the supply wagons with the rest of the
Squires and Pages, he reported to the Colonel for further instructions, and
was apalled to discover his task:... He was to see to it that each knight
shall have a ration of the cooked pork and porridge, a hot meal....
However, he did his earnest to show nothing of how he felt to his superior,
he did not dare question the Colonel' intentions nor neglect his duties.
And so he sat out to do as he was ordered, at first muttering to himself as
he saw the core of the army preparing for the battle to come. But he soon
changed his mind, as he divided the hot meals among the troops, he could
clearly see the effect it had on them, this food was quite a change for the
better from the now dried loaves of bread that had been the standard ration
throughout the long day' walk. The warm food was doing it share to restore
their numb bodies as well as some of the troops' morale, a crucial matter
before an upcoming battle. As he continued his task, Aelion began to smile
to himself, the task has proven much more worthwhile that it had appeared at
first glance.
This done, and after eating himself, he walked on to the Armory to meet his
superior a bit ahead of the time instructed. And as he stood in the
freezing cold, Aelion made a mental note to never underestimate the
importence of orders given to him, whatever they may me. Realizing he had
much to learn from the respected Colonel.
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[436] Bolter: Preparing for Battle
Wed Apr 23 11:22:12 2003
To: Knighthood all Nadrik Immortal (RP)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Bolter arrived at the supply lines with his group of clerics from the
shield, he looked up ahead and noticed a gathering of the other officers of
Gareth's Keep. He left his group with the supply lines to rest and catch a
hot meal and trudged through the snow and wind to meet with the other
officers that were gathering around a tent. Walking inside he noticed
several other officers, pouring over maps and other papers. Learning of the
plan to have the Crown to take the main brunt of the attack, the Lance to
take the left flank and the Shield to take the right flank Bolter left the
tent and returned to his group and split them into three sections of unequal
size, the Largets to go with the Crown, the second with the Lance and the
third with the Shield.
He assigned two other leaders for the group and would lead the group heading
with the Shield himself, inwardly he wished to head off with the crown to
the main attack but being an officer of the Shield he must go with the
Shield. With the groups formed and leaders assigned, Bolter sent them off
to join their assigned branches.
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[437] Bolter: Darkest Before Dawn
Wed Apr 23 11:39:11 2003
To: Knighthood all Nadrik Immortal (RP)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
With his clerics sectioned out to go to the three differnt branches, each
with orders to remain with the front line, Bolter led his group to the
Shield. When he arrived he noticed the Lady Crown riding atop her horse
checking the lines as she took her position in lead of the Crown formation.
He was impressed that she was willing to take the front of the attack and
lead it herself putting her own life in danger along with her Knights. As
his group took their positions within the shield, the morning sun was
breaking out spreading the valley in red. With the breaking of the sun he
heard the horns of battle ringing out throughout the valley signaling the
attack and with that he bent ti his knees in prayer.
Lord Nadrik I pray to ye this day, that I fight be glorious and Honorable.
Lord as we battle to retake the town I pray that our knights fight with
speed and strength, I pray that our clerics are expedient in attending
wounds of the injured. Lord I pray that our fight is just, and our cause
be true as we fight these minions of evil that amass before us. Lord I pray
for the protection of our knights and for their prowess in the battle that
is to come. Amen.
And with the prayer offered Bolter returend to his feet and drew his mace
ready for the battle.
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[438] Leumas: Darkest Before the Dawn: Battle Joined
Wed Apr 23 13:01:12 2003
To: all Knighthood Wales Aelion Imm ( Austinian )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now was the time for battle...
The trumpets blared out while Leumas was in the armory getting his plate
mail clasped into place with the aid of his newest squire. He noticed a few
other squires helping around the pavillion and nodded in satisfaction at the
efficiency with which even these men were working.
His plate and hauberk had been attached, custom fit to him alone as most of
the Knighthood armor was. He was about to attend to his greaves and
vambraces when the first trumpet blared!
So much for preparation.
It was often stated that the best made plans often failed at the first sign
of combat, but such was the life he had grown accustomed to. He knew that
when his time came he would be welcomed to his Father's side, and then of
all days he would rest... But until then there was still work to do.
"Boy! Grab a pike and brace the doors!" Leumas exclaimed to one of the
squires nearby.
The squire affirmed and moved to place one of the polearms against the door
to keep out would be invaders into the armory. The Colonel turned to his
own squire, "Grab yourself some mail and be quick... The force will be here
soon and the time for bloodshed has come too fast."
The paladin hefted his war club in his right arm and strapped on his helmet
and shield last.
He stepped forth into the cold air and watched carefully the fog that had
settled upon the forest floor as the dawn began to break. Soon the darkness
would turn to the gray shadows of morning and hidden amongst those shadows
would be the enemy. He almost winced when the great doors behind him were
finally closed and the sound of the brace fell into place. Glancing around
him he took a quick inventory of those men that had joined him at the armory
and settled stoically to wait the first of those who would be soon coming at
the garrison itself. Behind him a locked door, and in front of him a horde
of those who would see him dead.
There would be no retreat from this place... If he and the others failed
here, there would be only their memories to honor.
The battle was joined.
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[440] Tayna: Darkest before Dawn: Assignments (part 1)
Wed Apr 23 15:41:24 2003
To: knighthood immortal all rp Siccara Austinan Nadrik
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The Siccaran cleric stood quietly, shivering a bit in the cold, the wind
whipping through her hair and billowing her cloak and robes. Her hands were
clutched around her holy symbol of her Goddess, the knuckles white from
either clasping it so tightly or from the cold, she was not sure.
Tayna was awaiting her orders from the officers of the Shield. She still
felt new to the Order of the Shield. She had trained and was knighted as a
Knight of the Lance and her recent transfer to the Shield Order was still
just a few short weeks ago. She had to admit that at first she felt upset
about being asked to switch, but of course, duty was always foremost and if
the Crown believed her abilities to be best for the Shield than the Shield
it would be. It was a unique opportunity for her.
The voice of the officer rang loud and clear over the wail of the chill
Icewall wind, calling out the names of the Knights that would be assigned to
accompany the Lance and Crown Orders. Tayna secretly hoped that she would
be assigned to assist the Lance. With her Lance training it would make
sense right? Tayna snickered to herself, knowing full well that part of the
reason too was because of a certain Lance Captain named Galavant. It was
becoming no secret to the Keep that their relationship was growing. But
perhaps the officers would assign her to assist the Crown Order because of
that possible distraction? She knew that she could keep it separate of
course, but it she would have to wait to see what the assignment was.
After what felt to be an eternity, the voice rang out. 'Lady Kansouri!
Lance! She couldn't keep the broad smile from appearing on her face but
then she immediatly blushed and cleared her throat, forcing a more serious
expression as she raised her hand in salute to the officer and then beckoned
to her young squire. Her squire lead her horse as they walked over to join
the rest of the troop assigned to assist the Lance.
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[441] Tayna: Darkest before Dawn: Assignments (part 2)
Wed Apr 23 16:19:47 2003
To: knighthood all immortal rp Siccara Austinian Nadrik
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The troop of Shield knights moved at a steady pace, Tayna's horse
trotting proudly at the head as they headed towards the garrison of Lance
Knights to take up a support position with them. Lieutenant Bolter had
given her charge of this group, this being her first official assignment for
the Shield since her recent transfer from the Lance. She was determined to
prove herself and she couldn't help but feel excited but yet still a bit
nervous.
The heavy sound of horses' breathing and jingling barding and armors
intermingled with the sound of the wind and billowing robes as the wind
whipped past. The wind played upon the spray of snow kicked up by the
hooves of the horses and added to the bite against exposed skin. Tayna
hardly noticed it. Her mind was on her assignment and what it meant and her
heart whispered prayers to her Goddess Siccara. She glanced around at the
troop, composed of other clerics like her as well as druids and priests.
This was not her first war. Her mind's eye played out the scenes of Gareth
Keep's war against Malice, the war of Gaar Volen. She shuddered at the
memories. War was never pretty or pleasant. She felt a twinge of pain in
her heart, reflecting back on that dreadful day of that battle when she lost
her love, Laetan. She didn't want a repeat of that with Galavant.
Tayna peered into the distance, enhancing her sight with a simple spell and
saw the bright banners and flags of the garrison ahead. She smiled and
urged her horse to quicken its pace. Upon reaching the camp, she quickly
dismounted and handed the reins to her squire. She sought out the tent of
the Lance officers and entered with a sharp salute to Captain Galavant and
his attending officers for briefing and further instruction.
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[442] Galavant: Battle Joined
Wed Apr 23 16:27:50 2003
To: Knighthood imm Nadrik rp all
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dawn broke over the horizon and bathed the valley in red.
They had trained for this, each of them. With a single word from Galavant,
the knights under his command uttered a single word of protection. The
affect was startling, as each of them was bathed in a white glowing light.
Those few who couldn't do it themselves were helped by the clerics or mages
in the unit.
He faced them, relishing the orderly sight one last time. Rows of Knights,
their armor polished and ready, banners fluttering in the wind. It was, he
knew, the last time they would look so organized for quite some time.
'Knights! ' he shouted over the wind. 'Prepare arms! '
There was a collective scraping of metal on metal. A hundred weapons rose
into the air and seemed to burst into holy energy, as if the spirit of
Nadrik within each blade was hungrily anticipating the battle to come. The
few mages in the unit moved slightly to the side of the assembled, conjuring
massive fireballs into their hands.
Even under these, the worst of conditions, he smiled. His wrath undoes the
wicked.
He turned to face the oncoming horde, listening solemly to the Lady Crown's
benediction. It was well said, and well recieved. The rising morale among
the troops was nearly palpable, to Galavant's way of thinking.
And so, With a battle-cry that was almost uniform, the Knights of Gareth
charged at the advancing foe.
He sprinted forward on his feet, moving with an astonishing speed for one in
full plate. From nowhere, a goblin leapt through the air at him, having
likely hidden there for hours.
He brought up his sword, but not quickly enough. A fireball flew past his
head, singing his hair as it slammed into the vicious creature. There was
the scent of burning flesh and a scream of agony. The goblin fell to the
ground, already forgotten.
And so the two forces, good and evil, met one another on the field of
battle.
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[443] Galavant: Battle Joined
Wed Apr 23 16:30:01 2003
To: Knighthood imm rp Nadrik all
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chaos. No matter how orderly one tried to make his life, no matter how
many drills and trials and exercises, battle was always chaos. The thought
flittered through his mind almost giddily as Galavant strode through the
enemy, laying about with flail and dagger.
A large black yinn leapt at him, and the Captain met his advance. His
flail, burning with flame and holy light, slammed into the creature's side.
There was a crackling sound and a scream of agony as its fur literally burst
into fire. Without a second thought, he slammed his dagger into the beast's
stomach, ripping upwards from belly to rib. He knew, even without looking
into the eyes of his foe, that he had been victorious. The yinn was dead.
He wheeled on his feet, looking for another enemy to battle. Around him
were the screams of dying men and women, of battle and chaos and disorder.
His eyes scanned the surrounding area, and he noticed a young knight trying
to fend off three goblins at once. He would back up th-
*crack*
The world swam hazily in front of Galavant's eyes and a sharp pain radiated
through his skull. He staggered and turned, looking up into the eyes of an
abomination.
The massive ogre grinned insanely, swinging the two-handed club through the
air again. Galavant, still dazed from the earlier blow, was a bit too
befuddled to remember one of the great truths of life.
Parrying a 10-foot club with a three-foot flail was a very difficult thing
to do.
The block of wood and steel slammed into the Captain with several sickening
crunches, tossing him through the air like a rag doll. The world slowed
down, and he landed in a heap on the ground. Vaugly, he realized that the
screams of agony tearing through the air were his own.
He raised his head briefly, painfully. His armor was dented beyond repair.
That wasn't good at all. Somewhere, he thought he heard someone call his
name. That was better. The ogre was advancing. He hoped, with a detached
presence, that someone killed it before it finished the job on the Captain.
He knew he was going to lose consciousness. That wasn't good either.
The world faded to black.
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[445] Kusanami: Can't Keep an Old man down
Wed Apr 23 20:49:39 2003
To: Knighthood imm
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"If it's not one thing it's another." Kusanami muttered as he returned
to Gareth from his son at the monastary. "Young kids thinking their
heroes... What the?" He whispered as he crossed into the Halls of Gareth.
One of the many guards quickly ran up to him, informing him of the
situation. The once jovial and old face that was Kusanami's suddenly grew
tighter as the wrinkles deepened. His weight shifted as if becoming a
completely different person. The old man was replaced with a warrior who
had been through many campaigns and ready for many more.
His eyes deadened, almost frosting over, the sparkles in his eyes dying down
into cold twinkles. "And the reports from the field man, what are the
numbers?"
"I... I... Have only been posted recently sir, a new hire to replace those
who left to join the forces on Icewall... I think the battle has begun."
The guard spoke frantically gesturing at the Halls of the Keep,
Kusanami strode past them quickly, taking stock of the situation and those
who remained. "Too many.. Too many people thinking their heroes.... And
few left at home." Kusanami muttered quickly. Quickly rounding the troops
at home, he began the training. "This old man's ordering us around? He's
only a reinstated Knight?" The whispers began, the doubt the callousness of
youth consistently hitting him.
"Sure I'm old, sure I'm only a Knight once again. I held rank here once,
and I was respected. I may only be a Knight now but that does not belay my
experience, nor my life I've spent in conflict after conflict. Are we clear
or do I have to knock your butts to the ground to prove it!" Kusanami
barked loudly amongst all the remaining knights, squires, and guards
remaining. The power he commanded in his voice began to reawaken every time
he yelled his old skills began to reawaken and soon enough he began running
people through defensive scenarios and preparing them for what may or may
not come.
He whispered quietly into the air as he ran them in their circles. "My
prayers are with you, and the Keep will remain standing when you return.....
NOW DEFENSE SCENARIO ONE!"
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[448] Tayna: Battle Joined
Wed Apr 23 22:04:00 2003
To: knighthood all immortal rp Siccara Austinian Nadrik
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'Siccara bless us this day as we battle for the Light! ' Tayna called
out her familiar prayer to both her Goddess and her troop of Shield Knights
as they rushed further into the thickening battle alongside the Lance
Knights.
She cried out the incantation and raised her hand, sending a blinding ray of
light into the face of her goblin opponent. It screamed and clutched at its
eyes, staggering back for a moment, a moment just long enough for the cleric
to stab her dagger into the distracted goblin's chest.
She sheathed her dagger quickly and took up her mace and scanned the scene.
All around the chaos of battle surrounded, engulfing the Knights in its dark
grasp. Tayna noticed another cleric fighting alongside a warrior of the
Lance, fending off a group of yinn. She darted over towards them to assist
but was stopped in her tracks when she noticed from the corner of her eye a
massive ogre not too far off swinging a club high above his head and
sneering down at Galavant laying in a heap at his feet.
Galavant! She screamed, a split second of worry quickly pushed away in
order to clear her mind for a split second decision. 'Set those yinn on
fire! She called out to the cleric and then ran past them to head towards
the ogre and Galavant. She heard the yowls of a couple yinn, so she knew
the cleric was successful with the firestorm.
Tayna began a spell of her own upon reaching the ogre, ducking under the
swing of the club towards her. As it lifted the club over its head again
for another swing, the spell was complete and it dropped the club, a look of
intense pain on its ugly face as it clutched desperatly at its chest and
staggering back, the magics of her spell taking hold of and wrenching at the
ogre's heart. At that moment, and to Tayna's grateful relief, a Lance
crusader charged up from behind having noticed the trouble and impaled the
ogre on a nasty polearm.
Glancing quickly over Galavant's unconsious form in assessment of the wounds
it was clear that his injuries were quite extensive. Tayna could tell he
was still breathing, but barely. She called out to her Goddess Siccara for
blessing and waved a hand over his body. 'Goddess, hear the plea of your
child and ease the pain of this servant of the Light.. ' Galavant's
breathing seemed to come a bit easier and Tayna hoped that more than just
the edge of the pain was soothed at least enough so that he wouldn't feel
the pain as intensely during transport back for more extensive care.
She was torn. She desperatly wanted to go back with Galavant, but of
course, duty had to remain foremost. She couldn't leave the field when she
was responsible for the Shield knights here. She called to a nearby priest
who was just fininshing off a goblin with the help of a barbarian. 'Take
the Captain back to the camp and tend to him! The priest nodded and
quickly uttered a chant to open a magical gate back to the camp and the
barbarian carefully gathered Galavant in his strong arms and entered the
gate. Tayna nodded to the priest who then entered as well and the gate then
shimmered and faded as it closed behind them.
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[449] Bolter: The Battle Joins
Wed Apr 23 22:26:01 2003
To: Knighthood all Nadrik Immortal (RP)
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Standing with the Knights of the Shield, Bolter had a slight vantage
point to view the attacks of the Lance and the Crown. Knights as well as
those in the horde were falling on both sides, fortunately the clerics of
the Shield were with the Knights the whole way. He was duly impressed with
the fighting abilities of the Knights of the Lance and Crown, and was hoping
that the orders for the Shield's advance would come soon as he couldnt stand
standing back while a battle was engaged. In the distance he could see the
yinn, goblins and ogres engaging the Knights smoke was begining to come up
from the field as spells began raining fire down upon the yinn. His
thoughts soon returned to those in the Shield, he looked around at the other
faces present, each was itching for battle.
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[453] Aenarion: Battle joined.
Thu Apr 24 03:10:04 2003
To: knighthood all imm Nadrik rp
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The old knight strode the walls of the garrison, trying to ignore the
cold wind that chilled his face beneath the greathelm. Outside the
garrisons walls a battle raged, its fury reinventing the meaning of hell.
Dead or dying bodies, friend and foe alike lay strewn across the ground, its
covering of snow no longer white but trampled into a dark, bloody red.
He watched the banner of the Crown surging ever forward, a small knot of
knights surrounding it, dealing death to anything in its path. Elsewhere he
watched officers rallying their troops, shouting commands and bringing order
to small sections in the midst of otherwise interminable chaos.
He watched as a crusader, cut off from his fellows, layed about with a
bloody sword until he was swarmed and pulled off his horse. A priest raised
his arms to the sky, supplicating his god. An instant later a devasting
firestorm erupted 30 feet away from him, raining divine death and
destruction upon the enemy. A Lance Officer went down under a giant yinn
before being lost to sight admist the press. He noted at least 3 paladins,
their aura of power and righteousness visible even from here, striding
across the battlefield dealing out divine retribution.
Below him in the courtyard, the reserves waited with patience. Twenty
Knights, more than half of them paladins under his command, waited for the
call to action. Each of them as heavily armed and armoured as anything
Knighthood had to offer and all mounted on huge warhorses. Only a single
battle trained Destrier was without rider. His own horse, veteran of more
than a hundred battles and skirmishes. It pulled heavily at the reigns that
his youngest squire held, scenting blood and eager to be fighting. Light
glinted of brilliantly polished armour and penants snapped from lances,
streaming out in the blizzard, displaying all three Knighthood crests. Some
of them carried the secondary penants of Knighthood's leading families, worn
with pride underneath Knighthood's banners.
Soon enough, he thought turning his attention back to the battlefield.
Soon, the signal would come from the Crown. Ride out the reserve. Hit the
enemy with all the devastation only a charge from Knighthood's heavy cavalry
could create.
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[457] Amargein: Darkest before the Dawn: Opening charge
Thu Apr 24 04:24:56 2003
To: Knighthood Austinian All
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An aurora shimmered and shimmied across the sky as dusk abandoned the
icey frontier...
Amargein and his small group barely made it in time for breakfast.
Breakfast? They had not slept in a day, they were exhausted. This was a
second supper. For some, it might be the last. Feeling his age, all 31
years of it, he searched for leftovers. Better to die with a full stomach.
He looked out over the horizon with dead eyes, dreading the inevitable:
people will die today.
No more time left. Finish the tea and get ready for battle. Dawn of
destruction waits for you.
Amargein began dressing himself and beckoned one of the pages to assist. A
young boy, almost 10, ran up and queried, "Yes, sir? " Amargein struggled
with a strap in his teeth, and motioned to his boots. The page forced each
boot on as Amargein hastily buckled and tied anything that was loose.
Dressing did not take long, Amargein finished and tossed the page a coin,
gathered his weapons and walked out to the battlefield. So many days spent
on the battlefield, so many years of bloodshed. The normalcy of it had set
in long ago.
The paladin checked his armor one more time, sanctified himself, and merged
with the rest of the Crown forces. The men and women of Gareth rallied to
their respective Orders and moved into position. Lady Crown Gwynn Struan
uttered a prayer to Father Austinian, heads bowed, gauntlets beat against
shields, warcries rose up into the air, and the charge began.
Amargein scanned the firmament around him and thought he witnessed a white
wing and a tail out of the corner of his eye...
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[460] Rimac: Battle upon Icewall (a continuation of the Knighthood Saga)
Thu Apr 24 04:42:12 2003
To: knighthood althainia all imm zandreya rp
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He rode out of Althainia's eastern gate at dawn, chasing after the sun.
Eastwards - beyond the crossroads, past the Church of the Gray Robes - Rimac
traveled. Onwards he rode, flogging his New Thalosian stallion to breakneck
speeds.
Faster! Rimac urged his stallion onwards.
On the not too distant horizon, rose the city known as the jewel of the
desert, New Thalos. Closer and closer he came to the city, galloping
towards the gates. Startled, the awakened gateguards set to the defense of
the city, wary of the unknown rider. Rimac raised the pennant of an
Althainia soldier above his head as he galloped towards the city and the
surprised gate guards allowed him to hurdle through the western gates of the
city. He galloped through the center market square, dodging citizens of New
Thalos as he passed, and then he was out of the city limits, bursting from
the eastern gates without slowing.
From the notice I received" thought Rimac to himself, "the battle must be
nearing - let me not be too late. I must know if the knights have succeeded
in turning back the hordes - or, should they fail - notice must be given to
Althainia to prepare its army for battle...
As his thoughts passed, Rimac realized that the docks of Althainia lay
before him. Signaling urgently to the nearest ship, Rimac quickly grabbed
the ladder tossed down to him and he scrambled up to the deck. The Nomad,
as the ship was called, was already headed for Icewall and with only a
little gold, Rimac convinced the captain to make all possible haste. The
journey was short and time passed quickly for Rimac as he lost himself in
troubled thoughts: "I must protect Althainia, honor binds me to it as a
soldier of the realm. Yet I will NOT fight my brethren for the sake of mere
humans! The Yinn must be convinced to leave the horde - to leave the
battle. If they withdraw now, there will be no need to face them in the
future at the gates of Althainia. The knights will not be able to convince
the Yinn - the humans can fight and kill well, but they are not the true
equals of Yinn. The Yinn among the horde would never listen to them. I
must convince my brothers and sisters to abandon the horde. "
Looking up from his melancholy thoughts, Rimac saw the frozen slopes of
Icewall. Abandoning the ship before it even had time to dock, Rimac raced
into the wintry land, uncaring of the cold as only a Yinn could be. He
raced towards the battle - towards the smoke he saw in the distance -
towards the smell of blood.
Zandreya guide my footsteps through your land.
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[461] Gwynn: Valley of Death (part 7, storychain)
Thu Apr 24 14:00:53 2003
To: Knighthood All Austinian Imm
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Her charger's ears flattened back and he worked impatiently at the bit,
shaking his head back and forth. The Crown glanced left and right, checking
the lines and motioned for someone to bring her standard forward.
Clear in the cold air she called out her first command of the battle.
"Loose!" A volley of arrows rained down upon the front line of the
advancing enemy. Twice more, while a precious advantage was gained, the
small group of archers knocked and let loose a shower of death. The horde
ran right over their fallen and continued relentlessly towards the Crown and
her Knights. She signaled the archers to fall back behind the pikes.
She wheeled her charger towards the enemy and pressed her legs against his
sides. He gathered all his strength in his hindquarters, waiting. Her
hands softened a fraction on the reins as her cry rang out above the din.
"Charge!" In a smooth leap the charger leapt forward and towards the tide
of the onrushing enemy. Around her the Knights thundered on their steeds
and on foot, making for the main body of the horde. The Crown summoned the
wrath of Austinian and poured forth a blanket of flames before her, then
braced herself.
It was swift and brutal. The force of the impact making her arm go numb as
the first blow struck her sword. A thick hairy arm beat down upon her and
drove his sword down to the guard before she was able to parry. She used
the bulk of him against him, overbalanced he crashed to the ground and was
trampled under the hooves and feet of the many.
Again and again, she called upon the strength of the Father and covered the
area in flames. The thick curling flumes ignited the hair of the yinn and
momentarily blinded the goblins.
Her charger was part of her. He turned and wheeled always keeping the enemy
to her right side, her sword arm. She had no use for reins now, he knew
what needed doing. From time to time a powerful leg would shoot out and
catch an enemy that attempted to get too close. The powerful hooves
battered flesh and broke bones.
Her sword drove down upon the enemy as her whispered words summoned the
flames again. She closed her mind to the stench and cries, the horrendous
sounds of battle clashed and rang around her. A sharp thunk, and an axe
embedded itself in her shield. She felt the charger shift and turn slightly
as he tried to maneuver and gain advantage. The Crown turned in the saddle
and set a blinding ray of power upon the axe bearer. The goblin crumpled to
the bloody snow.
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[463] Gwynn: Valley of Death (part 8, storychain)
Thu Apr 24 14:06:56 2003
To: Knighthood All Austinian Imm
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A searing pain sliced across her sword arm making her catch her breath
and bite back a cry. Those precious moments when she had turned to deal
with the goblin had left her right side open. She turned back quickly and
sent another blinding ray towards the creature that hovered on the point of
striking again. It staggered backwards and the knight on her right sent his
polearm through it.
Blood flowed from her arm and she spared a moment for the touch of healing,
its warmth flowed through her and eased the pain until it was tolerable.
Oddly, in the midst of such turmoil her mind registered the fact that she
would bear a scar. Instantly the thought was squelched as another of the
horde beat his way towards her.
A knight rode between them in an effort to protect her from the mad rush. A
sword, two hand spans thick, bore down upon as the knight took his brave
stand. It sliced without remorse into the forelegs of his steed making it
scream. His steed fell and sent him crashing to the ground at the foot of
the madman. With a gruesome snarl the madman slashed his sword and opened
up the chest of the knight. The man stepped over her writhing saviour and
towards the Crown once more, the gleam of madness and determination in his
eyes.
The man began to yell and run towards her, she shifted a leg and her charger
stepped sideways and she brought her shield to bear. The heavy sword hacked
down into the shield, the blow so strong it beat her down into the saddle
then sideways. With a furious oath the man pulled back his sword for
another terrible blow. At the apex of his swing a look of surprise flashed
across the madman's face and he fell to the ground. Embedded in his back,
well past the tip, was a lance.
The Crown glanced towards the fallen knight and caught his brief smile of
triumph before he slumped in death. Gwynn felt her heart break a little
more as she recognized the face of the knight who had first brought her the
news.
Another face to dream of, another soul to mourn. Not now. Later there
would be time for mourning...too many to mourn and too much time.
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[466] Gwynn: Valley of Death (part 9, storychain)
Thu Apr 24 14:12:01 2003
To: Knighthood All Austinian Imm
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The battle raged on into the morning. The once pristine snow of the
valley turned into a swath of blood, mire and gore. Mud and snow churned
around the dead and dying.
On the left the Crown could see the Lance as it advanced into the flank of
the horde. A wave of skill and strength smashed like a hammer into the side
and a palpable shift was felt. The Crown signaled, and the Shield came in
from the right.
Around her, knights battled grimly, swiftly and with deadly skill. The
enemy fell before them only to be replaced by more, the sheer numbers taking
its toll. Her arm, now tired and shaking, continued to strike out, her
magics continued to flow though she could feel it was coming with more
difficulty. She was nearly spent. Her mind, now filled with the horrors of
battle, was unable to summon the calm comfort of her prayers. Her mind and
heart still felt the light of her faith but the magic would not come without
the calm.
Her charger faltered, then stumbled. Unbalanced, she shifted in the saddle
to compensate and left her flank unguarded for a moment. The weary charger
regained his footing and turned quickly but not quickly enough.
Pain, sharp and hot, cleaved into her side. She looked down at the spear
sticking out of her ribcage with something akin to surprise. The yinn at
the other end bared his teeth in a macabre grin and yanked it out nearly
causing her to fall from the saddle. Blood gushed out of the hole in her
side and down the side of her charger. The charger rolled its eyes and side
stepped and she gripped his mane to remain mounted. All energies expended,
the Crown wavered in her saddle. Her head turned and her gaze sought first
the messenger, to send for the knights in reserve, and then more urgently
for a glimpse of Leumas.
The yinn pulled back the spear again and threw it at her, her raised shield
took the savage strike. Her hand felt for the dagger at her belt,
instinctively lifted it and sent it flying at the yinn. With a dull thump,
it stuck into his chest and with relief she watched him fall to the bloody
ground. The Crown wearily placed a hand to the hole in her side, blood
pulsed out around her fingers. She looked around again, her mind taking
note of those who remained, those who were dead and blessedly...
Those still left alive.
-=*=-
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[468] Adriel: Valley of Death: Battle behind the lines.
Thu Apr 24 17:46:24 2003
To: Knighthood All Austinian Imm
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Adriel crouched down and fanned the dying embers in the firepit into a
small flame. Blessed warmth quickly filled the interior of the tent.
Uncorking his waterskin, he carefully poured some water into a small iron
pot, leaving it to heat above the fire. Transferring the now warm water
into a copper basin, he moved over to the first of the makeshift stretchers
on the floor.
Kneeling by the wounded man, Adriel gingerly removed the young knight's
chain mail shirt, fleetingly wondering who had so rashly pulled the arrow
from the man's side, probably causing him more damage than the arrow itself.
Indeed, the wound was an ugly one. The edges were slightly black from
infection, and frozen clotted blood had begun to gather around the wound.
Adriel took a small cotton cloth from his pack, dipped it in the warm water,
and proceeded to gently dab the wound. His patient groaned feverishly,
unconcious as he was, and flinched away from the gentle ministrations. His
complexion was fast turning a pasty gray, and his breath was ragged and
uneven.
Noting this, Adriel quickly cleaned the wound, and placed the cloth back in
the basin. He clasped his hands around the symbol of Austinian at his neck,
and began to pray.
"Lord Austinian, if it be your will, grant this man your healing. " As he
spoke, a soft glow enveloped the recumbent form of the knight, and small
beads of sweat appeared on Adriel's foreheard despite the chill. Slowly,
but surely, the wound begun to close, leaving nought but a scar to mark it's
passing. The breathing of the man grew much easier, and more regular, and
his face begun to take on a rosy hue.
"Thank you Lord, for thy mercy, wisdom and strength." Adriel slowly rose
to his feet, just as yet another pair of pages came in bearing another
makeshift stretcher between them. He gestured toward the end of the line.
The night was still young, and there was still much to do.
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[471] Taegan: Supply Lines
Fri Apr 25 00:46:33 2003
To: Knighthood Imm
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If there was to be a quick end to the battle the enemies' supplies had to
be taken out. It would be one of the hardest jobs considering the Knights
that would do it would have to travel in a small group and travel almost
twice the distance of the others with little to no trails but such is the
duty of the Lance.
"I need a small group, myself and another fighter to handle any scouts and a
clergy person for the spells needed Hextin, ready your self and Sesshoumaru
for travel on Ice Wall tell Galavant the Lance is under his control until we
get back and do it all in ten minutes" Hextin saluted as always and went to
fetch Sesshoumaru and get his things. Taegan thought to him self, a
Crusader, a Paladin, and a Cleric, can't get much better then that to have
the luck of the gods on your side
The plan was to get to the supply lines as soon as possible, they figured
with the off trail travel and the extra distance the supply lines would be
reached on the same day the Crown would get to the camp. No horse could
travel off trail on Ice Wall it would be almost impossible for it to in the
deep snow. The only answer was a dog sled team, and a nice sized team at
that to pull the three Knights along. Having a few friends near the port
Taegan sent another of his squires he could not bring on this mission to
rush ahead and have a the team set and ready for them when they arrived.
For the most part the trip was quiet, a few scouts here and there but they
where nothing when Taegan hurled his shield and mace in there face while
Sesshoumaru did what he does best. Hextin was ordered to stay on the sled,
if the plan was to work he would need all of his magic open to him. Other
then the few scouts here and there the only other problem was the cold, even
in heavy winter clothes the wind was bitter and it felt like your hands and
feet where going to fall off at any time.
Half a mile from the camp the small group changed from using the dogs to
walking, the dogs needed a rest and were just too loud to for us to get in
there. Each time we approached a trail Hextin was ordered to cast a
blizzard spell, it would slow down their supplies and look like a natural
event so not to alert them to early. This continued until we reached there
main camp, it was a very poor set up placing all there supplies together
including there heating oil, one well placed firestorm would take out enough
of there supplies to cripple them and allow a distraction for us to get back
to the dogs and join the battle.
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[472] Taegan: Supply Lines cont
Fri Apr 25 00:49:11 2003
To: Knighthood Imm
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"Hextins that's your target, hit it with a firestorm and lets get out of
here" Taegan ordered. Hextin nodded and began to cast his spell.
It was a very easy spell for him to cast and it accomplished its goal of
raining fire down on the supplies and setting the oil of to cause even more
damage. But it gave away our location and we where attacked by a few
goblins and yinn. Taegan and Sesshoumaru began their striking and cutting
on the small group and now that Hextin was able to fight again he started to
cast and the white beams of light passed Taegan and Sesshoumaru without
damage and striked the Yinn in the face blinding them and inflicting more
damage then a sword can do in a hit.
"Move out quick! Double time to the sled we have to get back to the main
force and help out all we can." Taegan said with force.
Our task was complete, we cut there supply lines and made it back to the
dogs. Once we got back to the dogs we took off for the battle field.
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[479] Galavant: Behind the Lines: Waking
Fri Apr 25 22:52:56 2003
To: Knighthood Nadrik imm rp all
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His senses came back one at a time, each one struggling to rise above the
black oblivion that had overwhelmed him. Galavant lay quietly, gathering
himself.
All around him were screams and moans. The sounds of hurt and dying men.
It was like a battlefield, but without the clash of swords and weapons. The
scent of anticeptic and herbs wafted through the air. So he was in a
hospital? Why?
And then there was pain. It was as if his entire body was a large bruise.
His left arm itched. When he tried to move it, though, he found that it was
tied down against his chest. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked around.
He was in a medical tent. The clerics moving silently among the wounded,
the large banner of the Shield against the wall, all of it confirmed his
original suspicion.
And so he lay quietly, trying to remember. Ah, yes. An ogre. He sighed
heavily, reliving the encounter. To be taken from the battle so quickly was
almost embarassing.
His sigh prompted the arrival of a cleric, a young knight bearing the emblem
of the Shield upon his tunic. Galavant looked up at the man and tried to
speak, only to find that his mouth was dry. He croaked inffectually, and
was given a wooden cup of water.
"Thank you," he said after drinking deeply. "What are the extent of my
injuries?"
"Your shield arm is broken, nearly shattered," was the dispassionate reply.
"You have four cracked ribs, and your legs are heavily bruised. You have a
mild head injury, but nothing life threatening. Sir."
Galavant sat up and groaned as the world swam before his eyes. He swung his
legs to the floor, waving off the concerned knight.
"Go fetch me a squire, tell him to bring armor. Then tend to the more
seriously wounded."
The knight opened his eyes wide and shook his head.
"Sir, if you're intending to go back into the field, I cannot le-"
His answer was a stony face and a sharp look. "That's an order, soldier."
Reluctantly, the young man left, and Galavant stood. Once again, the world
swam hazily. His head ached terribly, as did his arm and chest. He
stumbled to the door as best he could, nearly running over a squire loaded
down with chain and plate. The boy looked up at Galavant and frowned
lightly.
"m'Lord, you cannot wear this! You're injured!"
Galavant returned the frown with one of his own, instructing the lad to fit
on everything that could be strapped, buckled, and clasped without jostling
the bandages.
Two shinguards, a single vambrace, a single gauntlet, and a helm. A silk
tabard draped over his torso to hide the bandages and he looked... He
looked like a one-armed Knight.
There was no time to dwell on it. With a grimace, Galavant Keiyns strode
towards the battlefield, doing his best not to stumble.
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[517] Berache: Valley of Death: A common perspective (a little late)
Sun Apr 27 22:18:36 2003
To: Knighthood All Kadiya Imm
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Pleasant dreams saw Berache drifting aimlessly through fantastic
scenarios, appreciably conjured on many and various levels of realism and
none the less intriguing for it - lips drawn preconsciously into a simple
smile as he slept off the previous day's wearying monotony. New to the
keep, and not yet ranked among the squires of Gareth, the sudden call to
arms had seen him thrust into duties he'd never before tended to; Or, more
accurately, on such a large scale and with this pressing urgency about them.
Mucking of stalls and ministering to some of the less impressive steeds
about the stables, digging wells and latrines, were all well and good for
teaching humility, but they hardly prepared a given Page for the intensive
requirements of battle.
All this flitted through Berache's mind a moment after the morning's horn
cut through his insensibility, prompted by his aching muscles, daring him to
linger a minute longer and enjoy these last few precious seconds of
pervasive lethargy. Training responded summarily, though, returning the
smile to his lips as he automatically got up and set about dressing himself.
A glance around the crowded tent registered less enthusiastic responses to
the resounding blast, however, as jealously guarded warmth was lost to chill
dawn air in misty breaths.
- Thirty minutes of military-standard preparation completed saw him
receiving orders from his immediate superior, a kind old orderly of good
repute. Today's service, he instructed, was to be rendered the archers,
lining up arrows and conveying equipment to Knights whose squires were
absent. -
And the ranks were assembled. Morale soared against the odds with the usual
parading about and inspirational words of the commanders, and the scene was
set with the reserved, ambient clatter of equipment being finalised absently
amidst sober contemplation. No sooner was the call made than several rounds
of arrows were loosed, engaging the enemy irreconcilibly. A brief halt his
cue, he ran in, oversized quiver strapped fast about him. With hands made
deft by much polishing of armour not his own, were his quota of arrows
plunged into the hard, frosted earth, the geometry of his hurried insertions
earning a murmur of gratitude.
Rushing back to the equipment staging area, he watched with quiet
expectation as great swarms of arrows were shot with what might only be
described as random accuracy, specific target the seething mass, success
anywhere therein.
The enormity of the situation only struck Berache as the archers peeled back
and the massed units of his fellow Knights rushed forth, meeting, with great
clamour and gnashing of teeth, the enemy that only now fulfilled his vague
imaginings - a scarred snout here and torn goblin ear there deciding his
initial impressions and confirming vivid memories-to-be, tonight's less
sweet dreams.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[519] Benedicte: Darket before Dawn continuation
Mon Apr 28 02:45:20 2003
To: knighthood gwynn austinian
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The blood dripped from the slender blade, it wasn't the clean polished
blade that he had tended to with such tender care any longer. Scratches
marked and marred the blade, all of them stained and filled with pieces of
different creatures. Blood, brains, intestines, at this point one could not
distinguish, and as Benedicte held his blade to his face he noticed that the
bloody reflection wasn't just the blade, he looked as bad as the blade. His
white hair wasn't quite white anymore, tints of black, brown and of course
read had thoroughly mixed among his hair, his armor had been bent and
beaten, holes in several places where rudimentary weapons had broken through
his armor.
He fell to the ground, breathing heavily, glancing around at his knights,
pages and squires, or what was left of them. The fight had ceased
momentarily, the bodies of both friend and foe mixed among the battlefield,
one couldn't take more than three steps without finding a body. A page
limped towards the Lieutenant, 'Sir, the soldiers are hurt sir, there aren't
many of us left to fight, what should we do? ' Benedicte glanced at the
page, he was quite young, barely the age of 18 he guessed. 'Tell all the
remaining soldiers to regroup and get in formation, those who can walk or
wield or sword will be ready for the next attack. ' With that the page
turned and walked off, calling to the soldier that stood or could stand with
a little aid.
They formed a small group, there was only about twenty of them or so, some
of them were Benedicte's friends, a couple his squires and of course the
small few who had obviously recently entered the keep. 'Men, I realize our
numbers are small, and we are all beaten and exhausted, but beyond that
ridge are more of these vile creatures, creatures that killed people's
family and friends, creatures that our trying to take away peace, we must
fight them and continue fighting until we have regained that peace! '
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[521] Leumas: Valley of Death: Tears for the Fallen
Mon Apr 28 11:40:10 2003
To: all Knighthood immortals ( Austinian )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The massive clydesdale shifted it's weight beside and behind him, anxious
as were all the other mounts in camp. Something about an animal's instincts
he thought absently while unknowingly shifting his own weight in response to
the same ingrained instinct. Years of battle and war could change anyone,
be they man or beast.
Sound to him disappeared in these final moments as he watched the ranks of
vile creatures storming across the last bit of field that stretched between
the forests and the garrison. The din of battle nothing more than a
whispered rush to him as adrenaline filled his veins. His hand remained
clenched around the war club at his side, the mace's weight comforting and
disconcerting at the same time. A man who was comfortable with the
discomfort of the acts about to be committed upon this field of snow and
ice.
Time moved slower for him, and he could see the details of each of those
that charged at him and his fellows now. They came on and on, their numbers
like a swarm of insects bubbling forth from a hive. On their left, he was
vaguely aware of the mounted Lance knights driving forward, he could see
their lances piercing goblin flesh, blood splattering high into the air and
turning the snow a brackish greenish red. There was little in this world
that didn't stink to high hell like goblin blood. He recalled after the
first goblin wars in Althainia how his father, a soldier in that army, had
buried all his weapons on the outskirts of their property in order to keep
the smell away. The soil in that spot had grown barren, poisoned by the
evil taint contained therein.
It wasn't soon after that he had been given his calling by his other Father.
Here though, was a pair of goblins storming at them, curved and wicked short
blades glistening with the black saliva of their peoples, poisoned to the
touch.
There was a ferocious yinn, wielding a long spear as though it were a mere
stick, light and deadly in it's hands.
Still more, he saw the face of a man... More a child, wearing mismatched
armor of a mercenary, clearly lost amongst a cause that jingled in one's
purse.
He sighed and lifted his hand, palm open and facing the horde. It would
have looked to an outsider as though he were asking the entirety of the
enemy force to stop... As though he could halt them and turn them aside
with so simple a gesture.
Still they rushed onward.
The first of his foe grinned at him, so close now that he thought he could
smell it's rancid breath. Funny, he mused to himself, how he could hear
nothing, and see everything only in slow motion, but smell... Every smell
he'd ever scented on a battlefield seemed to be the strongest most pungent
odor he'd ever smelled.
The goblin laughed at the uprisen hand, mistaking the gesture for simply the
order to halt as so often happened. He was sorry that the goblin hadn't
halted. No matter how vile these creatures had proven to be, he knew,
somewhere inside each of them was the potential to serve something other
than the dark gods.
He could now see the yellow in it's eyes.
The following moment it had no eyes left to see. The blinding ray shot out
from his hand and melted the creature's face. It's evil taint serving only
as fuel for the righteousness that spilled forth from him.
Had he served otherwise the light would've passed through it, leaving it
unharmed. As it was, it writhed and blistered on the ground, dying... Then
dead.
The horde pressed onward, only briefly hesitating at the violent death that
had just been witnessed. Had anyone bothered to look, they would've noticed
that the face of the one who dealt such glistened with tears.
With each death he wept for the fallen.
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[528] Leumas: Valley of Death: The Charge Breaks
Mon Apr 28 19:16:58 2003
To: all Knighthood immortals ( Austinian )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He bled from numerous small cuts. Some bore the angry crimson hue that
told the tale of goblin poison. The surface told a tale that belied the
reality underneath. The paladin cured the poisons effortless, his Father's
grace flushing his system of that wretched toxin the goblins drooled out
onto their blades.
Still they pained him, though he supposed he should be thankful that they
didn't affect him as some of the other Knights. He could see one out of
the; corner of his eye even now... The lad's cold stare fixed forever into
the very heavens his spirit had flown to.
Another one of the damned creatures came at him, and he reacted nonplussed.
The amount of death he had doled out already today could be told by the fact
that his face was covered in blood and gore like most of his other brethern.
The sole clean spot were the two trails that had cleansed a path down each
of his cheeks. Another tear added to the trail as the creature raised it's;
small sword to stab him... He prayed for the creature's soul as he had
every other that he had put down so far this day... Ten... Twenty... It
was hard to tell anymore. Still on it came, and as he whispered to his
Father to forgive the misbegotten creature he slammed it in the face with
his mace. The warclub shattering the thing's skull and sending more gore
and gray matter onto his face.
He turned to find the next soul he would have to send back to it's maker to
be judged and realized that forces had broken. He saw only the flapping
feet of retreating goblins, and a great cry rose up from the squadron of
Knights that had made their stand here.
Leumas, made no such cheer. He felt no such joy.
Only relief that they would receive a moment's respite in the vast chaos
that was still sure to exist within the battle. He solemnly knelt beside
the body who he had noticed before... Staring into the sky.
"Break not his rest Father, he was a Champion to your grace."
Leumas gently... Reverently... Closed the corpses eyes.
He moved on to one of the goblins he had smitten.
"Break not his rest Father, he knew not what he did."
So he went, from each of the dead to the next, saying a prayer over each,
and closing the fallen's eyes.
The page found him thus an hour later, still tending to last rites.
Huffing and puffing he ran up to the paladin. "Sir! Come quick! You're;
needed at the hospital!"
Leumas knelt one more time, and closed one last set of eyes and then
departed to the hospital tent.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[529] Leumas: Valley of Death: Bandages and Blood
Mon Apr 28 19:42:44 2003
To: all Knighthood imm ( Austinian )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There were few places worse than a field hospital.
Leumas had been to the very gates of the abyss. He had stared down fear and
defeated dragons. He had slain demons, and laid waste to those who would
harm the innocent. All in all the horrors that he had been privvy to were
numerous.
At times like these he failed to remember most of them.
Over there on a table lay a man on death's door... His entrails held in by
his own hands. He was at one point a brave man, full of tale and filled to
the brim with nerve. Now he cried for his mother as his guts spilled out of
his opened stomach.
Over there on the floor lay a man... Or what was left of him. His sword
arm was gone at the shoulder... A broken protruding stump of bone showed
where the limb once connected. His right leg was likewise taken off
mid-thigh... The artery had been severed and his own blood formed a pool
around him as the bone stumps wiggled around like a macabre version of a
dog's tail as though the limbs were still present.
Yet another man laid on his side. A footman's lance clear through his
chest. To pull it out would mean his death... To leave it in meant a
longer death. Again and again, image after image of what would soon be
empty shells filled the eye.
Still all was certainly not lost. The Shield was overworked, and would not
be able to get to all of them, but the clerics moved throughout the room,
closing wounds and saving lives where they could. Whispering prayers and
offering comfort and staying by the sides of those they could not.
The back of the tent had been corded off. A makeshift privacy screen had
been made up of a torn flag bearing the symbol of the lance, crown, and
shield. It was to this that he was led.
The page drew back the screen and when Leumas saw her he thought she might
be already dead. She looked so gray and ashen on the gurney, covered with
her cloak. He realized then why the urgency in getting him here... But
still there were so many that could use him now...
He realized though, as did most of those in her service that the Lady Crown
was more than one person... She was the representation of all they held
dear and to lose her now would be more demoralizing than any other death.
Even his own would not go so sorely as hers should he let her be or had he
used his gift on another.
There was no hesitation in him.
He knew what needed to be done and ordered the sheet drawn back. The sight
of the wound, ugly and sharp against the pale skin of her side made him
wince where the sight of death in all its forms had not. The spear that had
made this mark had meant to kill her... It was a testament to her will that
she lived long enough for him to get here at all.
He knelt beside her and ordered the others out of the small chamber.
"I'll be damned if you're going to leave me in charge of these children
Gwynn."
He brushed the hair back from her face and gently kissed her forehead.
"You don't get to take the easy way out this time."
He placed his hands over the gaping hole and began to pray.
He was vaguely aware of the warmth growing in his hands, and spreading
throughout his body... And then into hers. A calming sensation washed over
him, and as the majority of his energy left him, spent and tired, he knew
that the wound had closed and all that would be left would be a small
pinkish scar. The Father had never abandoned him in these times of dire
need, and he was thankful this time more than any other. His head sagged
from the effort of the day, the battle and the ritual had brought him near
unconsciousness. With his last bit of energy he said out loud, "It is
done." And then he too collapsed from exhaustion.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[534] Gwynn: What Price Victory (part 10, storychain)
Mon Apr 28 23:21:33 2003
To: Knighthood All Austinian Imm
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She hunched over the wound in her side, her body instinctively attempted
to protect it from further harm. Each jarring step of the charger sent pain
along her whole right side, her hand was without strength and covered in
blood. She shifted her shield to that side, her arm sliding into the
leather straps that fastened securely to her forearm. It was heavier than
it had been and now required bracing against the saddle. Gripping the horse
with her knees she urged him forward and pulled a discarded weapon out of
one of the fallen.
Around her the battle raged, the horrible cacophony echoed off the rim of
the valley and beat back towards the center as though they stood in some
grotesque theatre.
Her mind sought the peace and comfort of prayer. Each time she reached for
it another of the horde beat towards her and the calm evaporated, instinct
and training took over. She could feel her leg grow warmer and her fingers
colder from the loss of blood. The charger blew great billows of air from
flared nostrils.
Unconsciously she took note of the position, number and condition of the
Knights. The Lance had broken the left flank and drove hard into the side
of the horde. The Shield had advanced into the right as well as supporting
the fallen and tending to the injured behind the lines. The forces of the
Crown, sustaining the brunt of the attack, had been hardest hit. Her gaze
found Leumas, still standing, still fighting.. As well as many of the
Crown... Thank the Father.
Her weak arm parried the last desperate blow of a man as he beat a hasty
retreat in the footsteps of those of the horde that remained.
She felt, more than saw or heard, the reserves arrive. A palpable wave of
renewed energy and determination flowed before them. What was left of the
hordes of goblins, yinn and other mercenaries fell or fled before them.
They swept past the Crown as she sat unmoving on her steed as the last
vestiges of the opposing force were overcome. She was too weary even to
summon the comfort of prayer, all her energies were spent. She dropped her
sword and her hand convulsed around the holy symbol that hung from her neck.
Her charger stood, feet splayed apart, and trembled.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[535] Gwynn: What Price Victory (part 11, storychain)
Mon Apr 28 23:28:38 2003
To: Knighthood All Austinian Imm
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Victory. She looked down at the ground around her, at the dead and
dying, the maimed and disfigured. No trace of the once white and pristine
snow remained. The ground was blanketed in the offal of war, thick with mud
and colored a dark red.
Victory was supposed to taste sweet. All she could taste was bile.
She caught a movement in the corner of her eye. A low moan issued forth and
faintly she heard her name called.
"La... Lady .. Crown.. " a voice whispered.
She dropped her right arm the shield slid to the ground with a dull clang.
The Crown wrapped her hand into the mane of the charger and as carefully as
she could, slipped down the side of the charger. She sucked in a sharp
breath as pain exploded along her side. She looked dully at the side of her
mount, now covered in a smear of red, and grimaced. Forehead to beast, she
rested a moment and pressed her hand to the wound in an ineffectual attempt
to staunch the flow.
The voice came again and with determination she stepped away from the steed.
Wavering, she stepped towards the sound and fell to her knees next to a
young knight. The shade of death colored his face a pallid gray, his eyes
unseeing looked up towards the heavens. A wound to the chest, the size of a
grown man spilled forth his life blood.
"Did ... Did we win?" He asked softly.
She closed her eyes a moment, took up his hand in her own and nodded, "Yes..
We were victorious. You fought bravely, a valiant Knight."
He smiled, then sucked in a breath before he whispered so softly she almost
did not hear it, "My mother.. Will you tell her?"
"Yes. I will tell her of her brave son and how he fought tirelessly to
protect the weak and innocent." She paused on a shuddering breath, then
continued as she watched him struggle for breath. "I will tell her that
there are none to compare to her son, for he is a Knight. A champion of the
good and right."
She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. He grasped her hand
tightly as his last breath came and left him on a shuddering sigh. Upon his
face was left a beatific smile, angelic and pure. He had died knowing he
was a hero. She closed his eyes and whispered a prayer for his spirit. She
knew the Father would see him safely home.
She felt the sting of tears and closed her burning eyes. To weary to resist
them, too heartsick to deny them, she let them fall. One by one they fell
until even those were exhausted, she no longer even had the energy to cry.
Her breathing grew shallow, the pain in her side tormented her.
She reached for the calming comfort of prayer and instead found oblivion.
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[538] Galavant: Valley of Death: The fallen and the falling.
Mon Apr 28 23:55:10 2003
To: Knighthood Nadrik imm rp all
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The battle was over.
Galavant Keiyns stood, not more than a hundred yards from the base camp,
watching as the Knight's reserves swept up the last of the enemy. He was
clad in almost no armor, his wounds would not have permitted it. The
captain frowned slightly, chastising himself for his own injuries. Ambushed
by an ogre.
He looked around. The floor of the valley was littered with dead bodies.
Yinn, ogres, goblins, and mercenaries. But scattered among the remains of
the enemy were banners of blue and white.. Mingled with red.
How many were dead? How many had given their lives? The painful
realization of his comrades' sacrifice hit him like a hammer, washing away
his own vainity. So too did it wash away his battle-fury, so too did it
wash away the pain-blocking chemicals that a body in action produces.
His legs, his ribs, his arm, his head. A dozen points on his body cried out
at once for attention. With a dull thud, his sword fell into the dirt,
dropped by suddenly unresponsive fingers. He swayed lightly on his feet
like a drunkard, a wave of nausea sweeping over him. Numbly, he removed his
helmet with his good hand, letting it too fall to the ground, forgotten.
And then there was somebody at his side. No, two men, splattered with blood
and gore. His eyes flickered over their faces, his mind told him that they
had been assigned to the reserve unit. Wordlessly, they helped Galavant
stay on his feet, helped him back to camp.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[541] Rimac: Battle upon Icewall (a continuation of the Knighthood Saga)
Tue Apr 29 00:18:36 2003
To: Knighthood Zandreya imm rp Althainia and all Yinn
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The trees were white with frost - each heavily laden with snow nearly to
the point of breaking. Rimac lowered himself to all fours and slowly
crawled towards the battle, blending in with the ground around him.
'Thank you my Goddess' he thought to himself, knowing that without the cover
of Zandreya he might not have made it as near the battle as he had.
Although as many know, yinn are rarely seen if they choose not to be, the
skill of the knights and numbers of the horde made detection a dangerous
possibility for Rimac. Closer and closer he came to the sounds of warfare,
watching as members of the knights and of the horde each died in turn.
Detaching his thoughts from the battle as a whole, he focused his attention
to individual events. He noted the paladins in battle, easily
distinguishable from the common foot-soldiers. Watching a fight nearby, he
grinned wolfishly, knowingly, as he watched one of the goblins of the horde
attack an armored paladin. The goblin, glee alight within its yellowed
eyes, saw only an unarmed man. As he had expected, Rimac nodded to himself
[ (C)ontinue, (R)efresh, (B)ack, (H)elp, (E)nd, (T)op, (Q)uit, or RETURN ]:
as he saw a ray of liquefied light issue forth from the paladin's open hand,
engulfing the goblin within its blinding glare. The goblin lived no longer.
As the glare faded from his stormy gray eyes, Rimac continued to survey the
battlefield. Seeing into the distance as only the eyes of a Yinn could, he
spotted a massive black furred shape in the distance - detached from the
battle, yet seemingly issuing commands to those around itself.
Rimac thought to himself, 'I have found what I needed - there is nothing
more I can do here'
Backing slowly away from the battle into the protective arms of Zandreya's
forest, Rimac turned from the battle and slowly raised himself from his
crouching position. At the same moment, opposite him, a Yinn with fur
matching the snow covered ground of Icewall raised herself from where she
had silently hidden, readying a spear to be thrown. As the Yinn raised her
spear, ready to attack, Rimac barked out a harsh command in the language of
the Yaenni. Startled, the Yaenni warrior lowered her spear quickly.
I thought you to be one of the armored lessors' she said to Rimac, 'what are
you doing so far from battle, warrior, while the knights yet live
[ (C)ontinue, (R)efresh, (B)ack, (H)elp, (E)nd, (T)op, (Q)uit, or RETURN ]:
Moving slowly, Rimac shook the snow off of his guardsman uniform, revealing
the flag of Althainia printed boldly upon his sleeve. Anger flared within
the female warriors' eyes, but she made no move to raise her spear again.
What do you want here, BROTHER' She snarled at him, bathing her final word
in sarcasm. 'You are not here to aid your brethren - that much is clear
Rimac spoke, 'I want the yinn to leave the horde. It is unworthy for the
yinn to serve amongst the common goblin and stupid ogre. If you cannot
order the yinn out, take me to one who can'
The female warrior turned without a word and hurried into the woods,
uncaring whether Rimac followed or not.
...Rimac raced after her into the woods of his goddess...
Zandreya guide my footsteps through your land.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[542] Aenarion: Valley of Death: The Charge.
Tue Apr 29 00:19:52 2003
To: all Knighthood imm ( Nadrik )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Around him the charge gathered momentum, picking up speed with the
implacability of a falling meteor. The low rumble of hoof beats increased
until it sounded like thunder echoing across the battlefield. One last
signal and as one lances were lowered into position, a long, unstoppable
wall of steel points aimed directly at the enemies heart. Time slowed down,
sounds became muted, details stood out in stark clarrity. Warcries that
dated back to Serpantol floated through the air, some of them he realised
with surprise, coming from his own mouth.
The impact when it came was horrendous in its intensity. He watched as a
huge yinn standing front of him was hurled out of the way, his lance
puncturing its chest in a shocking eruption of blood and chain mail links.
The lance now trapped and useless he dropped it before it stopped his
momentum. Drawing his greatsword he laid about him in arcing overhand
strokes, timed perfectly with charges and leaps from his mount. On either
side of him paladins, crusaders and warriors surged through the enemies
ranks, cleaving everything aside, striving desperately to reach the Crown
banner before the charge was blunted.
The few remaining ranks of the enemy, beaten and bloodied by the heroic
efforts of the Crown Knights, lost heart with this newest threat. Throwing
down weapons they raced away, not caring in their haste to get away who they
ran through. Drawing his mount up, he paused, surveying the battlefield.
Some pockets of resistance still fought on, staying to the death for some
perverse reason of their own. Lance Knights were everywhere, clearing these
up and he signalled for half of his attachment to help them out.
Casting around, he sought desperately for the Crown banner. There it was,
lying torn and muddy beside its bearer, his blood mingling with so many
others. Lying close by, easily distinguisable by the crown circlet worked
into her helm, was Gwynn. In an instant he was off his horse, and racing
over the ground as fast as he was able. Cursing his old knees he dropped to
the ground beside her. An ugly wound was visible in her side, the blood
already drying and its edges turning black. Her face was as white as the
snow had been before the battle. Muttering a quick prayer, he tried to
close the wound, but it was no use. He was too tired and too much damage
had been done.
Craddling her gently in his arms, he staggered upright and moved back to his
horse. As carefully as he could he placed her over it. He called an order
and a young Lieutenant raced back towards the garrison, to warn them of the
incoming casualty. Another he sent back the garrison to get a message to
his oldest friend, confident he would be able to heal the Crown General
lying close to death over his horse. With a deeply troubled sigh he began
the trek back across the battlefield towards the garrison and its hospital.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[543] Rimac: Battle upon Icewall (a continuation of the Knighthood Saga)
Tue Apr 29 00:32:55 2003
To: Knighthood Zandreya imm rp Althainia Nordmaar and all Yinn
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Rimac followed the Yaenni warrior through the woods, the sounds of
battle faded in the distance to be replaced by the sounds of many Yinn, hard
at work. Rimac and the female warrior left the forest behind, entering into
a clearing that the Yaenni of the horde had been using as camp.
Rimac, felt the eyes of others upon him - questioning stares that pierced
his back like daggers. He looked neither left nor right as he followed the
female warrior to the largest tent in the clearing. Upon reaching the
entrance, Rimac recognized the black furred yinn he had seen upon the field
of battle.
The black furred leader beckoned for Rimac to enter.
Rimac's guide left silently upon the padded feet of a wolf, but Rimac did
not turn to acknowledge her departure. His eyes were only for the leader of
the pack - the leader of the Yaenni within the horde.
[ (C)ontinue, (R)efresh, (B)ack, (H)elp, (E)nd, (T)op, (Q)uit, or RETURN ]:
Rimac saluted the leader and sat.
Grinning wolfishly, the leader spoke, 'We are not human here. Do not salute
me as if you were a human - it does no justice to either of us. What have
you come here for... ' the leader pauses momentarily as he looks at Rimac
'brother of Althainia'
There was no scorn in his voice, no condescension as he said that last.
Rimac could tell that, unlike many of his brethren among the battle field,
the leader felt no scorn for those Yinn who were forced to make do within
the lands of man. Silently, Rimac honored the black Yinn, but aloud he
said, 'I wish you to withdraw the Yinn from the ranks of the horde. The
armored lesser that you battle are the Knighthood of Althainia, the chosen
guardians of my kingdom. Should they fall, Serak, the emperor of Althainia,
may send his soldiers to battle with you... I will be forced to battle
against you because of duty. I do not wish to battle against my brothers...
My sisters. Pull the Yinn back
Anger flashed through the leader's eyes, but he spoke calmly, saying, 'I
cannot. I will not. It pains me to work with creatures so beneath us - the
goblins and ogres - but we cannot stop until we have accomplished what we
[ (C)ontinue, (R)efresh, (B)ack, (H)elp, (E)nd, (T)op, (Q)uit, or RETURN ]:
set out for. The humans... '
A yinn rushes in, interrupting the leader midsentence.
The cowardly goblin flee, the ogre are dead, the mercenaries abandon the
fight... The armored lesser outnumber us
The leader of those Yaenni within the horde grimaces and says quietly,
'Withdraw from combat. Let the Yaenni leave no trace for the humans to
celebrate over - no brother or sister for the humans to skin and... Sell'
Rimac watched as emotion flickered across the eyes of the black furred Yinn:
anger and pain, sorrow and regret. Into the silence, Rimac wondered aloud,
'And what have you set out for, brother? Why work with a horde of goblins
and ogres - what goal could be worth the presence of such creatures? '
'Our very lives, brother. Our very lives' The leader pauses momentarily,
then continues, 'The humans hunt us... US! They dare to come after our
women and our young. They purchase our very skin to sell in their stores.
The horde was to bring war to those who would hunt us for their gold - See
what the humans call a 'Leather Works' within the kingdom of accursed
Nordmaar'
[ (C)ontinue, (R)efresh, (B)ack, (H)elp, (E)nd, (T)op, (Q)uit, or RETURN ]:
Spitting the last word out as a curse, the massive black furred yinn turned
to lead his people back north - back to the northern reaches of Icewall - to
await Justice.
'Nordmaar' Rimac thought to himself...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[544] Wales: Valley of Death: That which is Truth.
Tue Apr 29 00:49:48 2003
To: Knighthood All Nadrik Immortals
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The monstrous warcry of the horde carried over the bitter wind. Everyone
could tell the charge had begun because the earth trembled with their
advance.
The squire secured the brace and climbed the wooden stairs to the parapet
above. He could see Sir Leumas, mounted and waiting with a battalion of
knights. Beyond that swarmed the horde, a disorganized wave of goblins,
yinn, and mercenaries. Next to him archers pulled back on their arrows as
the Crown Colonel raised a hand to the minions.
What did he expect? These wretched lines of curs and monsters were not
going to halt for an old paladin and an outnumbered group of knights. And
then the Colonel let lose a torrent of light that struck a goblin, utterly
destroying it.
The squire watched in awe as the paladin smited foe after foe. How could a
man control such power and harness it to defeat evil? What a tremendous
responsibility! But as Leumas turned back to command his troops, the boy
studied the Colonel. He saw the pain in his face, the grim frown and tense
brow. How could it trouble him so?
Despite his conviction, the great paladin charged forward. The horde
sacrificed a few more minions before the retreat. The knights supressed the
advance of evil. The light prevailed. But there was much to learn for the
squire. He decided that the good of men can only be understood over time
and by those who are willing to learn. Corruption is rampant, murder is
favorable, evil is an easy road. Truth can only be found in the hearts of
good men and the path of light is eternal. Those who wish to follow will
only come close to the destination. I will always be found wanting.
Wales looked up at the sky and watched the snow fall from heaven.
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[546] Bolter: Last Rites
Tue Apr 29 01:03:49 2003
To: Knighthood all Nadrik Immortal (RP)
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As Bolter trudged through the battlefield making his way through the
fallen Knights and the fallen from the Horde he searched for those that
could be saved from an untimely death. The enitre sight turned his stomach,
forcing the tears back from his eyes he came upon a squire knelt down beside
a fallen knight. As Bolter made his way towards them the he could hear the
squire silently weeping over his fallen comrade. As he neared the pair, he
noticed a gaping wound in the Knights chest. Nothing could be done. He
knelt beside the squire and prayed with him over the fallen Knight.
Lord Nadrik, we pray to ye this day, a warrior has fallen in battle for the
Light. Lord Nadrik we pray that this Knights ultimate sacrifice may never
be in vain, that the memory of him and other knights like him who held the
Light so dear that they offer up their own lives to preserve it. Lord
Nadrik we pray that this man fought with strength and honor until his last
breath, Amen.
Bolter stayed a moment more with the squire, administering last rites to the
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[550] Berache: Valley of Death: A common perspective II
Tue Apr 29 04:10:44 2003
To: Knighthood all imm ( Kadiya )
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The battle raged - All eyes beholden yet the material plane (and not
ascended to some higher alternative) drank in frenzied purpose, or less
perceptively and at the very least, the wrenching melange of tangled
combatants. The furious challenge appeared to Berache, strangely, as a
contest on an evolutionary scale, though he could not very well define the
analogy.
He could but watch with twitching resolve, duty-bound to his post for this
sport well suited to spectators - if they'd a mind for their own safety, and
no allegiance either way; Neither true of Berache. Lust for action flashed
cold some inch above his flesh, drawing up rogue hairs on the back of his
neck and tugging at his arms, pulling them toward his staff, as if a guiding
aura about him he might not deny.
Not to be, though - he knew his role, and the justified wisdom behind it
flashed through his mind, calming him, letting flow his thoughts on a level
of abstraction he was curious to think on. The objective observer surveyed
the scene, then, and felt privy to some territorial fight between several
very different species - Though, he surmised, a various few had combined
against one, perhaps they were the stronger, the greater threat? The
opponents' dispute seemed almost understandable, then, as he watched this
silver-skinned mass beset by less solidly fleshed foes, the weapons of the
latter glancing with voluble clatter off the former, but not so the reverse,
which struck deadly more often than not.
As his eyes stared in frozen rigor, his upright self stark parallel to those
now laid flat, his uniform lacking the requisite crimson added summarily, he
blinked once. His gaze had been drawn to a particularly vicious section of
the front, where all manner of weapons flew in defense not a moment after
they'd whisked forth with more tenacious intent, and been rebuked - here his
sense of duty demanded reform.
There, some six feet above the similarly painted earth, a torrid gout of
violently rerouted fluid spewed forth in deep crimson splendour, and was
followed nigh by a silvered extremity - what now dawned as a helmet - and
still occupied, at that.
Odds suddenly all too persuasive, he acceded to the intangible force of the
aura, no conscious volition left guarding him from it - and, staff in hand,
rushed down to join the battle, the pervasive ambience of rage joined all
too easily.
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[546] Gwynn: What Price Victory (part 12, storychain)
Tue Apr 29 11:28:12 2003
To: Knighthood Austinian Imm
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Voices echoed, they whispered quietly and murmured words and thoughts she
could not comprehend. Her mind struggled to grasp the meaning of their
words but was unable to hold to a single thought. She drifted on a sea of
weariness and pain, the motion nauseating. Disoriented, her mind held to a
single fact.
Father..
What her mind and body could not hold on to, her faith did.
She heard the voices again, more urgent this time and somewhere in the
distance many voices. The sounds distressed her and she struggled against
the incomprehension. For a brief moment she felt something brush across her
brow and was comforted, and she ceased to struggle to find meaning in the
voices.
Blinding white light flashed behind her eyes and she flinched. An agony of
glorious sensations filled her as every muscle in her body tensed against
the divine intrusion. Her hand still holding her holy symbol, grasped
convulsively and the metal bit into her skin. Her teeth clenched, her head
tilted back and her back arched slightly off the makeshift gurney.
Bathed in light, the pain receded as the heat in her body grew. An essence
of something beyond her mortal understanding blazed within her. Awareness
teased at the corners of her mind, she reached for the light and embraced
it. The presence engulfed her, her mouth opened with no sound and her
spirit grasped the divinity as a drowning man might seek air.
Father..
It is done.
The light swept from her the last vestiges of pain and began to withdraw.
Awed by its presence and unwilling to let it go, her greedy spirit cried out
against the departure. Soft as an angel's wing, the light brushed her
again, gave her comfort as only a parent might to a child, and then was
gone.
Her eyes struggled to open but would not obey. Her breathing was no longer
painful and she could make more sense of where she was, what the voices said
in the distance. She was in the field hospital and she felt more than saw
Leumus resting near her, his hand still resting where she had been wounded.
His breathing was even, slow but regular. She heard a faint rustling and
someone approached them. A rough warmth brushed across her skin as a
blanket was thrown around them both. And then she slept.
-=*=-
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[546] Sho'Gal: The Valley of Death: Nearing Nights Fall.
Tue Apr 29 20:53:26 2003
To: Knighthood Imm ( RP Nadrik ) All
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Standing on the rim of the valley, Sho'Gal winced in pain.
Closing his eyes, he recalled the sight of the valley early this morning.
As the night sky first shifted to dawn, the valley glowed with an artificial
red. Now, on the verge of evening's twilight, the valley was once again
red.
The scent and silence of the snow, which was so dominate at sunrise, would
not frequent this place for some time. Already, the stench of death and the
buzzing of flies filled the air.
Now, For the first time since before the battle, the cold hit Sho'Gal. The
adrenalin that surged in his veins was finally subsiding, leaving him
exposed to the elements. And his pains. Short of a cut on his forehead
from a botched attempt at head-butting a yinn (never a good idea for any
human to try), he had no serious, or non-serious injuries. His body was
still psychically exhausted, but he saw this at little more than an
inconvenience, not near serious enough to keep him from performing his duty.
Slowly walking into the valley, Sho'Gal approached the first of the
countless corpses. It was a Knight, and a young one at that. Judging by
his position, his injuries, and the trail left behind, he had sustained his
injuries some distance away, and had attempted to retreat.
Sho'Gal lowered himself to his knees beside the hallow shell, and placed his
hands on the mans chest.
Lord Narik. Lord Austinian. Into your hands, I commit this knight.
Forgive his sins which are left unatoned. Comfort and protect his kin, as
they have suffered a great loss this day. Amen.
Raising himself, he spoke directly to the lifeless body. May you find
comfort in the arms of our gods.
The next corpse was no knight. The body was far too large the body was that
of a Yaeni. His wounds were numerous, and it appears as though he bled from
every major section of his body.
Sho'Gal knelt beside the warrior, and whispered a prayer to his Gods,
Lord Nadrik. Lord Austinian. Into your hands, I commit this warrior
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