Ulthuan, Home of the Asur
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PostPosted: Fri Oct 15, 2004 2:54 pm 
The White Lion
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Since we weren't able to transfer the DB files over when we moved from the lifeboat I thought it would be useful to link to the first 8 pages, in case anyone is interested. As long as the lifeboat is still running....

Storm over Ulthuan: The First 8 Pages

Never moon a werewolf.

Last edited by Anarion on Fri Feb 04, 2005 7:11 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Fri Oct 15, 2004 7:54 pm 
High Prince of Saphery
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Hehe, I've already got this saved as a link on my computer. I should probably save them on my hard drive, too...

"Ask every person if they've heard the story,
And tell them, loud and clear, if they have not:
That once there was a fleeting wisp of glory
Called Camelot.

Don't let it be forgot
That once there was a spot
For one brief shining moment
That was known as Camelot."

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PostPosted: Fri Oct 15, 2004 7:58 pm 
The White Lion
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Posts: 2575
Location: Pendragon
I've been tempted to bring the whole thing over, page by page. But it seems like a lot of work. I may still do that just in case that board goes down some day.

Never moon a werewolf.

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PostPosted: Fri Feb 04, 2005 1:43 am 
The White Lion
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Location: Pendragon
Ok it was a long time in coming but I'm going to put up the first 184 posts off of the lifeboat.

Here goes.....

Calarion: Anlec.
For thousands of years, the bleak ruins have been the centre of the unending war between the Asur and Druchii, the most bitter kinslaying in the world. The black spires have been built, and razed, a never-ending cycle of bloodshed. The lands around the once-mighty fortress are desolate and lifeless, as the tramp of thousands of feet through the ages, and the blood of the fallen, have stamped out all trace of life. It is dead, of no significance save that which the innumerable lives of those fallen in war have granted it.
This day is no different.
The rays of sunset cast Anlec's ruined turrets and parapets into a fierce crimson light, and the scales of the High Elves' armour matches it too. Rank upon rank of warrior stands ready and proud, to fight their foe for this accursed place. Legions of spearmen, from all over Ulthuan, assembled for this battle. Swordmasters from Saphery, horselords from Eataine, and even the proud Dragon Princes of Caledor are assembled to turn back the oncoming tide.
Like the coming of night slowly spreading darkness across the land, the druchii come. Their numbers are vast, unbelievably so, and their feet beat out a rhythm to the song they sing as they travel. Their armour is not crimson, it is a dull black, and their weapons are black also.
The two armies pour towards each other, with ever-increasing speed, and then collide with a hellish cacophony of steel and screams. The slaughter is immense on each side as the massive regiments surge forth to the slaughter.
And then a shape blocks out the sun's crimson rays, and Asur and Druchii alike look up in fear and awe as a massive form spreads its wings and lets out a bone-shaking roar...which is echoed by another, and another. Six massive black titans soar over the Druchii lines and descend like sable thunderbolts into the Asur. Their rage renewed, the Dark Elves press forward, and their foes melt before their wroth.
Anlec has fallen, and the war between High Elf and Dark Elf begun again.

As the massacre continues, the last knots of High Elven warriors form into clumps. Strangers who have never met before are forced to fight shoulder-to-shoulder. Here is one such group: two Shadow Warriors, a Chracian woodsman, a Yvressan swordsman, a Sapherian mage of the White Tower, and a Caledorian soldier. Their weapons dripping with the blood of battle, they take opportunity of the brief respite in the fighting to introduce themselves, and decide what to do next...

Bob of Yvresse: Blood-lust in his eyes, vengence on his lips and a swathe of death cast around his sword, Avel knew in his heart this battle was lost. "My noble kin, I suggest that we withdraw from this arena of battle in favour of a more favourable situation, we should perhaps consolidate and form a plan to drive our foul cousins from our shores.

Solidus Snake: "I fear no druchii, i'll stand against the witch king himself if i must." Sparda wrestled his glaive from the scales of a cold one, he gazed on his many fallen comrades and something caught his eye, he then drew a short, concise conclusion. "i'll open a way through and the rest of you get through, i shall join you later when i have taken care of something."

Anarion: "I am bound to defend our fair land," replied Anarion over his shoulder as with a broad sweep of his great axe he felled a raging Druchii warrior. "Nevertheless, if I stand alone I will fall and it would be better to live to fight another day. Still I am loth to leave if hope yet remains."

Solidus Snake: Sparda leapt past flailing weapons and bolts that whipped past his head.
he knelt and slashed across an elfs thigh and stood with a stab into anothers chest. He came to where he saw the standard of his company fall, a one winged dragon emblazoned with a background of fire, the scource of much of his pride in life, tattered and bloodstained upon the ground. His gaze fell onto a seemingly motionless corpse with its chest cavity blown apart, it moved and reached a shaking hand out to touch Sparda's tunic.

"Did i.....fight well.....Sparda?"

He recognised it as the voice of the youngest elf in the company, Yilib, more countryman than hardened fighter, but still to Sparda he was like a son. Sparda knelt next to the dying elf and removed his mask and let down his hood.

"You have a nice face....Sparda....why do you hide it?"

Sparda removed Yilibs helmet and wiped away some of the blood on his face.

"Its ok now, you can make it"

He looked down Yilibs body to where an unmistakable pool of blood that seeped from his chest grew in size.

"Maybe now...i can find out who....my real father is" Yilib spoke painfully,
"will i see you...on the other side?" But Yilib was long dead before Sparda could answer, he clasped his mask firmly around his head and drew up his hood "I still have too many things left to do" He finally drew Yilibs sword upto his chest and blended back into the seething maelstrom once more.

Etherion Fenix: Aruthan stood still among these strangers. He was loath to work with those not of Nagarythe. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
"My burning vengeance for the Druchii shall not be sated today. We must return to the shadows from which we may strike anew upon them. This land i have lived in all my life and none know better then save a few. I Aruthan can lead us out of this maelstrom, will you follow?

Calarion: Ignoring the last remnants of battle that rages on behind you, you turn and leave the battle. The presence of Malekith's dragons has ended this battle: the dark elves have won this day.
You cover a small amount of ground unnoticed. The gravelly dirt is rough beneath your feet.
But your retreat does not go unhindered: before you a small knot of Dark Elven warriors stands, their spears levelled at you. There are ten of them, and you will have to win past them to defeat them.
What now?

Etherion Fenix: Aruthan dropped and rolled out of the attack line of the Druchii. Notching an arrow to his longbow, he took aim at the nearest one.

Bob of Yvresse: Lining up next to Aruthan, bow in hand Avel'Firrodeth too notched an arrow and let fire at the foul druchii.

Crazylisk: Talos smiled behind that scarf hiding most of his face, at least he'd get to kill a few more Druchii before he left the field. It pained him to leave the battle, with so many Druchii still alive, but he wasn't ready to die yet.

Drawing forth his still bloody longswords he moves slowly towards the spear wheilding Dark Elves, waiting to see what targets the archers pick.

Calarion: The druchii charge, and immediately your archers ready their bow and meet them with a barrage of arrows. Against the heavily armoured druchii, the arrows are ineffectual. Avel's arrows manage to scrape a line of blood across the hip of one of the warriors - but it is the Shadow Warrior, Aruthan, who proves his merits. Calmly nocking an arrow to the string, aiming, and releasing, his first arrow splits the air - and a druchii skull. The second cuts into a druchii's neck, making him drop to the ground.
But there is no time to admire the superlative skill of the Shadow Warrior, for the dark elves are upon you. Sparda sets his glaive and one of the dark elves runs upon it, dying painfully. Anarion swings his massive axe, but he is tired from the battle and misses. The seven Dark Elves attack. Anarion attempts to dodge, but feels a blinding pain as a spearshaft strikes his flank and continues in... Sparda agilely dodges to avoid the spearshafts of his foes, while Aruthan sees a line of blood appear on his arm as the tip of the spear of the druchii fighting him.
The fighting continues. Ytharon gestures, and a fireball blossoms from his hand, exploding into one of the dark elves and killing him. Talos's twin swords tear through flesh, dropping another warrior, while Avel's blade guts a warrior. Aruthan uses his acrobatic skills to vualt over the head of his foe, and then drives his blade into the dark elf's kidneys..an agonising death... Ytheran releases another bolt of flame, incinerating a second druchii.
Panicking now, the dark elves try to flee. A black-feathered shaft from the bow of Aruthan fells one of them as he flees, while Avel's blade and knife swiftly gut the last one.
The dark elves defeated, you slip away from the great battle into the desolate Shadowlands...

Anarion has taken 10 damage. Aruthan has taken 2 damage.

Elthair: Ytharon did not speak. Instead, he concentrated beyond levels achievable for humans, muttering ununderstandable words in a language only known by a select few. While shaping the magical energies around him in a single massive ball of red hot flames, he looked for th nearest druchii.
"Burn!" he screamed, while he sent the magic missle away with a single wave of his long silver staff. He did not look to see what happened, the soundsof his victem where a clear enough clue.

Before the burning Druchii touched the ground, he had started casting for a second time...

Etherion Fenix: Aruthan was well pleased with himself. Four dead Druchii by his hand or bow, it was a good feeling. That they had managed to escape so well brought some relief as well.
"We should head a good distance away and set up a camp to rest for the night. There we can rest and fix our wounds and plan our next moves."

Elthair: "Indeed we should get moving. The sooner we can make ourselves at home, the better". Ytharon spoke, heavily leaning on his staff. the two powerfull spells had exhaused the mage from the White Tower.
"I suggest we make ourselves comfortable by the fire, and have something to eat".

Crazylisk: An elf wearing a dark green cloak, and dark grey leather armour, sheaths his two swords, and picks his shortbow up. Only his dark blue eyes can be seen beneath the hood of his cloak, while the lower half of his face is covered by a dark red scarf.

His two longswords, have emeralds in the pommel, and the cross pieces are shaped like an eagle spreading it's wings. The only other distinctive thing about the elf is a ring with two small emeralds on his right hand.

"I agree mage, we must find a suitable place to rest, but I doubt it will be comfortable, and there will definantly be NO fire. We can not risk it, the Druchii will be looking for any asur that managed to survive."

Elthair: "And how, Hunter, do you think to rest without a fire?" It is impossible toregain strenght without the heat of a fire! or to prepare food! Of course it may be a small one, but one nonetheless..."

Crazylisk: "It is far too dangerous for fire, as I said the Druchii will be hunting for any asur, and a fire is likely to give our position away, even a small one. You'll have to go without a fire tonight. I don't know how you were brought up in Saphery, but I'm sure you ate food that wasn't cooked. It's not like it will kill you." Talos replies, gripping the hilt of one his swords loosely.

Etherion Fenix: As has been pointed out a fire is out of the question at this time. But may i suggest we set up a well camoflagued camp before we continue with the merits of wether to create a fire or not, hmmm?

Bob of Yvresse: Bending over to retrieve his dagger from the belly over the fleeing Druchii, talking in his customary "As much as I hate to do it, that guy with the swords is right, to light a fire is to welcome death."

Etherion Fenix: Using his knowledge of the land, Aruthan directed the party to a safe area that should be relatively free of Druchii eyes.
"We should set here. It should be relatively safe and we should be able to successfully camoflague it."
Aruthan looked at his arm and the bloodied form of Aranion. "We will need to be bandaged and fixed up."

Crazylisk: "I'll go find something for us to eat, and gather some materials so I can camouflage our camp. And if I find a fire burning when I get back, no matter how small it may be, there'll be trouble." Talos says as he goes of in search of food and materials, making sure to get some extra pointy stuff for the silly Saphery mage.

Calarion: Using his knowledge of Nagarythe's geography, Aruthan finds a small gully in which to lay camp. It's not particularly well positioned, but Talos camoflages the camp as best he can while Aruthan tends to the wounded. As a result of his ministrations, Anarion regains 4 hit points.
The battle seems to have died down now: the defenders of Anlec were massacred. You wonder what happened to Lord Eltharion of Tor Yvresse, who was commanding the defences. But for now...none know of the massacre save you. The druchii will regroup at Anlec, but surely soon they will push on, to strike at the manor house of Caladain Coraith, the Lord of Nagarythe, and to attempt once more to root out the druchii camps.

Etherion Fenix: "If you listen to me, we should head towards the Lord Calaidans mansion. He will need informing of what has happened here."
Then i can finally get away from these Ulthaunites. Aruthan scowled while admiring the excellent work he did on bandaging up Anarion.

Bob of Yvresse: "To survive these dangerous times....I believe we shall need to have a leader." Avel remarked in his steely cold voice. "I also believe I should be that leader..." said Avel carefully eyeing the other members of the rag-tag party.

Crazylisk: "I care not who leads, just as long as it's not him." Talos says pointing at the saphery mage, "I can't believe he'd suggest lighting a fire, we might as well walk into the Druchii camp. It would be safer than a fire. You have no idea what it takes to survive in the wild, you've spent too long in your nice big tower reading books. I'm surprised you survived the battle. Probably ran away at the start, and only helped us when you knew we'd win the fight. If we had a fire going, I'm sure you'd some how manage to get your robes on fire, and roast yourself."

"By the way my name is Talos."

Solidus Snake: Sparda ripped off the last of his battle garmant, only his tunic remained and his hood and mask, using the remainders of his company standard he fashioned a shoulder cloak out of it and marvelled at it for awhile, remembering the past victories and the special bond everyone shared.
He summed himself up before the other warriors and calmly suggested to all of them.

"Such trivial things should be left for another time, we should decide as a group on what to do now"

He paused for a moment and looked around, the steely gaze of these other soldiers, he was not the only one to have lost something.

"An educated decision must be made..."

and with that he became again a closed circuit of inward thought from everyone else.

Anarion: "It matters not to me who leads," added Anarion as he sat down to rest his wounds. "I think we must assume that few others have escaped the slaughter. We should make for Lord Caladain's manor as soon as we are able. Already I feel well enough to begin thanks to you." This with a glance in Aruthan's direction. "We must hurry before the Druchii move out, but we have the all the advantages. This is our land. We must be swift and stealthy."

Anarion: As they contemplated their course of action, Anarion took the opportunity to introduce himself. "I am Anarion. My home is in Chrace as you can no doubt tell from my garb and weaponry. I came here with a company of Lion Guards but they have perished to the last and I alone am left, though it seems I was near to joining them." Anarion hugged the battle worn lion cloak he wore closer, fingering the claws that had scarred him.

Solidus Snake: Seeing this to be a time for introductions Sparda drew himself up, holding his glaive. "They call me Sparda, Caledorian tactical regiment.
To summ me up, Iam a killer by trade aswell as birthwright, I live from one battlefield to the next hoping to find something that..." he trailed off.
Behind his mask, the storm of anger and hate that was his mind grew and threatened to explode, he clenched his fist. "Hopefully we will find our revenge against our most hated foe in the near future. You can count on me to be standing with whomever desires dark blood to be spilt."
The air seemed to hum with his pulsing hate, he began to etch a rune on the blade of his glaive.

Etherion Fenix: Aruthan could only just hold back the snear at the mention that those traveling with him were of other realms, as he had guessed by their garb.

Calarion: Checking your supplies, you find a problem - none of you have any supplies. No blankets, no water, and maybe more importantly, no food. There is no choice: you will have to forage. Edible food is rare in Nagarythe, for the land has been blightened by the ceaseless wars, but some roots can be salvaged bythe Shadow Warriors - though the taste is quite unpalatable. However, Anarion and Talos fail to find trace of any - the lands around Anlec are too blighted by the constant warfare. You will have to tighten your belts and do without dinner tonight.

Crazylisk: "I suggest everyone tries to get a few hours rest. We can use the time before dawn to move away from here. Hopefully this will mean our journey during the day should be safer. I'll keep watch." Talos says drawing forth an arrow and notching it.

He then goes off to find a place to keep watch.

Solidus Snake: Sparda settled next to a gnarled trunk,"wake me when you need the rest, i'll take second watch" He propped his glaive next to him at the ready, even as he slumbered he toke note of his surroundings, the steady rythm of people breathing, the silent patter of raindrops, and he cursed to himself on the typical nagarythean weather.

Calarion: You all settle down for sleep - which does not come. The ground is uneven beneath you, there is little shelter from the rain, and less from the frigid night winds that sweep over the camp. No food, no warmth, and now this exposure: you wake in the morning shivering and bleary-eyed, having been unable to find any rest. Anarion's lion-skin cloak kept him warm, while the two Shadow Warriors are used to such conditions, but Avel, Ytheran, and Sparda are feeling the effects of all this deprivation and have lost 4 HT each (temporarily, restored upon finding some good conditions).

Elthair: when Ytharon "woke up", or rather stopped trying to sleep, his mood was even worse than it had been yesterday. every square inch of his body hurted, his head felt like a hammer was hitting it over and over again, his spine felt like it was broken at least a dozen of times.

"So, Hunter, did you catch some sleep?" he spoke in a rather cinical way at the shadow warriors, Thalos in particular.
He was not at all happy about the way the "master of survival" had helped him to "Survive" the night.
"Now, i suggest we get moving towards this manson of this Caladain person, because i would truly hate to stay another night in these cursed woods."

Then, he pulled out his sword while agressively looking at his new 'friend', and started drawing some complex patterns on the ground.

Solidus Snake: Sparda drew himself out and set about clicking various parts of his body, after swinging his spine and neck around a few times he flexed the rest of his body by reaching back and touching the ground with his finger.
He then balanced upon the single finger and kept himself in that posistion for awhile, taking in deep breaths and focusing his energy. "I sense that many of our kin have died, and our most hated kindred seek to reclaim this territory."He then sweeped himself up and snapped his glaive unto his back. He motioned towards the surrounding country, "I hear no morning bird, this does not bode well so i suggest we get ready to move as soon as possible"he spoke, motioning to the two shadow warriors.

Anarion: "How far is it to Lord Caladain's?" asked Anarion to the Shadow Warriors. If it is a long journey we should indeed make haste. "I feel much better for what little rest I have had."

Indeed the rest had done some good. Although he did not feel a whole lot better, the ache in his side from the dark elf spear had subsided to a dull throbbing. He looked down at the bandages Aruthan had applied, the blood had seeped through. "I should be able to keep up well enough."

Crazylisk: "Of course I got some sleep mage, it's not hard once your use to these conditions. If we should have to rest out in the wild again, I'll make sure we build a small tower, that way you'll be able to sleep properly. And once the tower is complete I shall personally cook a feast for you." Talos said, bowing down to the saphery mage.

"As for how long it will take us to reach the mansion, it's hard to say. It will depend on how quickly we travel, and the number of Dark Elf patrols we have to kill along the way. I suggest we get moving."

Etherion Fenix: Aruthan eyed them disdainfully. "Lord Calaidans mansion shall only be further away if we continue to gossip here about what to do. Leave your aches and pains for tonight. Concenrtate now on getting as far away from this place without being caught by patroling groups of Shades.
Let us leave now."

Calarion: The journey will take about four days, the Shadow Warriors know - but how long that will be this time, in worse conditions than before, with sickly and wounded with you, and having to avoid an army on your heels, they can't say.
You set off while the land is still dark, though there are campfires behind you - the Dark Elves around Anlec. The ground is uneven, and Anarion stumbles. Once you clear the gully you continue onwards, setting as swift a pace as possible - but Ytharon cannot keep up. He is absolutely exhausted, from the conditions of the previous night, and from the strain of the magic he performed the previous day, which he has not yet recovered from. The sun rises, but the sky is overcast, and the winds do not abate. It is barely midmorning when you take shelter under trees from pounding rain, feeling saturated and wet. Ytharon's shivering has increased, and you fear he may have hypothermia. In any case, you are forced to slow your march and hunt for food. However, barely any can be found - while this area is more fertile, the darkness distracts you. Talos manages to find a few roots and mushrooms which will be enough for a single person.
Calling on his knowledge of the area, Aruthan remembers a ruined village, the name of which has long since been lost, lies to the north a small way away. Shadow Warriors often hide caches of supplies there. If you wish to go there, it may add another day to your journey - but if Ytharon really has hypothermia, and you don't treat it, it will be a much greater delay in the long run.

Etherion Fenix: "I would suggest we risk the village, as we can not continue as we are.
We could leave the mage to the wild, but even then it would still pay to visit the village for supplies. In which case we may as well take him with us."

"Anarion," Aruthan said to the chracian coldly. "If you wished, your cloak will greatly help Ytharon against the cold if you can part with it."

Crazylisk: Talos muttered a few curses under his breath upon hearing about the mages condition, it seemed the mage might get his fire after all.

"Soft saphery mages." he said just loud enough to be heard, as he stomped off.

Solidus Snake: "enough with your bickering, the sooner we get to this village, the sooner i can rest, i tend to get irratable when fatigued and i dont need this pointless banter" He roughly grabbed the nearest shadow warrior and forced him out front and gave him a poke with the butt of his spear,
"move damn you, the elderly of caledor can march up and down several mountain ranges with full gear faster than you" he growled through gritted teeth.

Crazylisk: Talos turned around sharply and angrily pushed the spear away, his hands going to the hilt of his longswords.

"Your lucky these blades are for dark elves, or I'd cut you down where you stand for your actions. I was about to get going before you decided to speed things up yourself, you foolish Caledorian. It's always the same with elves from Caledor, they've got rocks for brains, while those from Saphery are always soft. It's not my fault the soft Sapherian has caught himself a little cold, and is now going to delay our travel by a day or so." Talos said angrily, staring at Sparda.

Anarion: Anarion nodded as he shrugged off the heavy cloak and wrapped it around Ytharon. "That makes sense. Here, mage, this will keep you warm."

He glanced benignly at the glowering shadow warriors. "You know, it would serve you better to recognize that the other kingdoms have come to stand along side you. Nagarythe may be the bulwark against the druchii but it does not stand alone or unaided. You would do well to remember that. How many of my clansmen or of the other kingdoms lie fallen beside your kindred."

"We should remember who the real enemy is."

Crazylisk: Talos turned his towards the White Lion, glaring at him for a few seconds before saying anything.

"The righteous White Lion, if only you knew how amusing your words were. You assume so much, but know so little." Talos shot back.

After staring at Anarion for a little longer Talos turned his back on the group, and moved a few metres away muttering a string of curses. He took a few deep breathes trying to control his temper, and to stop himself for attacking a fellow high elf.

Calarion: The argument seemingly defused for now, you set a new course for the north. The rain stops thankfully, and while everyone is shivering, Ytharon's condition stabilizes with the massive lioncloak around him. He is still exceptionally slow, but does his best to keep up, fighting valiantly (though still the pace is slowed for him). It is Sparda who slows you down the most though, as the massive Caledorian finds it difficult to clamber across the roccky ground as you others do.
Within a few short hours, the village is in sight. Ancient indeed, maybe from the time of Aenarion or even older, all that is left are a series of high white stone foundations jutting up from the ground, their once-lustrous sheen dimmed by the ages to a muted grey, matching the rest of the desolate land. And amongst them...the dark elves have reached this place before you. The ruins are filled with a regiment of them. You cannot tell how many from where you hide, behind a few bushes a hundred metres from the village or so, but enough that entering and recovering the cache will be a definite challenge.

Etherion Fenix: Aruthan pondered a little on what to do next.
"I have probably the best bet of sneaking in there and having a look around. If I can, I will see if I can take some of their supplies."
Pearing back at the village, "i only hope that they are a small group who are weary and will be unaware of our activities."

Calarion: Aruthan splits off from the rest of you, still crouched over to avoid being seen under his camoflaging grey cloak. He moves slowly and softly, but when he sees no enemy nearby, sprints, still in the same crouch. Fate, and experience, are on his side. He crouches by the ruins, and stays there for a moment, before working further in. It is not long he can make an estimate of the number of dark elves - there must be thirty or so, a scouting party. He moves out of sight, deeper into the ruined village...
Outside the village, there is nothing you can do but wait, as still and silently as possible. Every breath seems to last an hour, and the hours drag. Surely Aruthan has been captured by now! It's too long!
Time drags on, and there is still no sign of him. What now?

Bob of Yvresse: Breaking his long silence, Avel finally decides to speak his mind "You walk a very fine line Caledorian...I believe we have several courses of action my kinsmen. We can mount a suicidal attack, or we can start a guerilla war, leaving our comrade behind is not an option."

Never moon a werewolf.

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PostPosted: Fri Feb 04, 2005 1:56 am 
The White Lion
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Joined: Mon Jun 07, 2004 1:25 pm
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Location: Pendragon
And page three..... more tomorrow...

Crazylisk: "I'll go have a quick look around the ruins and see if I can find out what has happened to Aruthan. I'll return as soon as I have some news." Talos says, taking time to camoflauge himself and the rest of the group before heading off. He also pretends to be a little clumsy applying the camoflauge, making sure he pokes the Calderion a few times by mistake.

If he gets spotted he plans to run off in a different direction to the rest of the group, and then hopefully return at night time.

Calarion: Talos also enters the ruins, and then disappears inside. The wait is nearly intolerable - you're sure they have to have been found by now!
...and then you realise something is coming from behind you. Hands to weapons, you prepare to fight, only to see the two Shadow Warriors, carrying a bag which must be full of the critical supplies. They explain that a Dark Elven scouting force is in the ruins, which made their progress very slow to avoid detection.

Etherion Fenix: Aruthan can only glare at them. "I find your lack of faith disturbing. I quite safely had grabbed some supplies when Talos showed up looking for me. It is not a simple procedure to slip past that many of our dark kin." After further dark glances at his companions he continued.
"I say we get as far away from here as we can before we next rest and enjoy some of this plunder."

Calarion: You cross a series of hills and enter a more forested land. Were it not for the palpable darkness that reminds you of th grimness of this area, you would find the tall trees quite beautiful. Eventually you find a sheer cliff-face with a slight overhang, which creates a very shallow depression which you decide to camp in. It will keep the elements off decently. Opening the food you have appropriated, you eat some trail rations - more an exercise in chewing than in any real enjoyment of the taste, but they are nourishing amd restore your much-depleted strength. Also, in this position it is easier to light a fire and to conceal it - do you wish for one? And who shall take the watches?

Bob of Yvresse: "I volunteer myself for the first watch," stated Avel.

Anarion: "How do you feel, Ytharon?" asked Anarion. "You may keep my cloak for now if you wish. I think we should not risk a fire yet, but if you others feel it is necessary...." he trailed off. "I will take the second watch if you wish."

Anarion put his back to the cliff face and closed his eyes. He kept a hand on the haft of his great axe though and remained wary, even while in repose. Even if he could not sleep he would get some rest. He just wished the two shadow warriors could get on better, and the haughty Caledorian as well. At least the Yressian was causing no trouble. Anarion recognized that his attempt at peacemaking had failed miserably. Maybe it was better to not provoke the others even in such an attempt. His mind drifted into restless sleep and dreams...

"Lion Rampant!" shouted Ringil as the Druchii poured toward them. The company readied, preparing to repel the assualt. Then the dark kindred were upon them. Anarion first stroke smashed through a forest of spears as the Druchii leapt aside. His quick backstroke caught a screaming enemy in the chest. He wrenched the axe clear of the collapsing corpse and ducked under another thrusting spear......

Solidus Snake: Sparda shifted around trying to gain a comfortable posistion next to the tree, re lusted for a bed at least, or the great mountain ranges of caledor, the craggy rocks belie thier soft touch to a sleeping caledorian. He peered accross to the mage and watched him for a while as he twitched in his sleep. He got up and strode over trying to strike up a conversation with Avel. "It makes you think sometimes on what a sapherian dreams about, all those tomes and scrolls, all those dark and deep secrets. I know i wouldnt sleep easy knowing that there may be some grisly fate in stock for us, or with the knowledge on how to wipe out an empire." he paused for a moment, spinning the glaive haft in his hand. He spied a sleeping Talos and reached for a pebble, "I wouldnt do that" Stated Avel simply.

Etherion Fenix: Feeling quite comfortable after finally having some food. Aruthan rested back in the overhang, wiggling out a soft spot to rest in.
Aruthan spoke in a short, curt voice, "wake me when its time for my watch," and promptly closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Calarion: Sleep comes easier this night. Call it fate, or luck, but the weather improves, and the overhang and cliff protects you somewhat from the wind and rain. One by one you take your turn at the watch, Avel first, then Sparda, and finally Aruthan. It is hard, monotonous work, sitting awake with only your thoughts for company.
It is at first dawn that Aruthan wakes you all, and you rise - and then with a strangled cry, Avel presses himself flat against the cliff, and you all do likewise.
At the top of the cliff stands a dark elf warrior. You can hear more, a regiment, and also the wheezing bark of Cold One Beasthounds. What has happened is obvious - you forgot to hide your tracks and the scouts in the village have pursued you. They have not noticed you, obscured by the overhang as you are...yet.
It will take them half an hour to walk around and down, to where you are. You have half an hour to plan.

Bob of Yvresse: In a soft voice "My kin, may I suggest we check our supplies for some variety of rope, as soon as they follow our tracks far enough down we shall climb up the cliff face unseen. We shall then have to kill those bloodhounds, and hopefully a few Druchii"

Etherion Fenix: Aruthan turned and nodded in agreement with the plan. They had been foolish to forget to cover there tracks. Such a mistake was unforgivable and could only be forgiven by slaying them to the man.

Crazylisk: Muttering under his breath about foolish non Shadow Warriors leaving a track even a half blind elf could follow, and his stupidity for not noticing it, Talos snatched the rope up and moved towards the cliff.

"Always left to the Shadow Warrior to get you out of trouble, or find shelter." he said as he started climbing.

Calarion: Talos nibly scampers up the cliff-side. There is a heart-stopping moment when it looks like he'll fall, but he manages to steady himself and reach the top. Shortly afterwards, a rope drops down, and the rest of you scamper up. This being accomplished, you wind up the rope.
Now...wait and ambush the dark elves when they appear below you with your bows, or begin fleeing immediately?

Crazylisk: Once everyone is up, Talos gathers up his shortbow, and notches an arrow waiting silently for the Dark Elves.

Etherion Fenix: In a hushed tone, "I say we wait in ambush. Its not so much the druchii as the bloodhounds that i worry about. Those creatures will undoubtedly track us down if we ran now. Best to surprise them and shoot the beasts before making our escape."

Bob of Yvresse: "Speaking up quickly "May I suggest that we now do away with the Druchii's hounds lest they track us again. Those without bows pick up a rock..."

Calarion: The ambush is effective and brutal. The dark elves scouts appear below, being led by three reptilian beasts akin to the lizards some of their knights use in battle. Soon, a barrage of arrows and rocks lands amongst them. Two of the Beasthounds die instantly, one crushed by a boulder flung by Sparda, the other riddled with arrows. The dark elves respond swiftly, raising their crossbows and letting out a spray of returning fire. Arrows land amongst you. Aruthan takes 2, Sparda takes 6, and Ytharon takes 2. Abandoning the ambush before you get cut to ribbons, you turn and flee. Avel delays a second, and shoots at the last Beasthound - only to watch in shock as the arrow richochets off the thing's hard skull. A returning hail of bolts does 6 damage to him, and he too turns and springs away. The Dark Elves begin coming after you...

Bob of Yvresse: Whincing as he ran to catch up with the others "Comrades....ugh....we should make our way to the Caladain mansion as soon as possible.

Anarion: "Ytheran!" shouted Anarion. "Can't you give them something to think about? We need to stall them while we escape. And do something about that beast!"

Without waiting to see what happened Anarion sprang after the rest of the party, discontent only that none of the foul dark elves had stepped within range of the bite of his axe, but please nonetheless that so far they had escaped with their skins.

Crazylisk: Rather annoyed at the fact that the Dark Elves had the upper hand, Talos decides that even as much as he hates most of his fellow High Elves, he hates the Dark Elves a lot more, and that they don't deserve to die at the hands of the Druchii, no one does. So he decides to offer the following rather desperate plan.

"As the only person uninjured here, I could probably lead the Dark Elves away from the rest of you. If I can kill the beasthound, then I should be able to lead the Dark Elves on a merry chase and meet up with the rest of you later this night. But you'll have to make you sure that you cover your tracks this time, and travel in a single line. Unless of course someone else has a better plan."

Talos then starts looking for a place to set up an ambush, in particular somewhere relative safe from returning crossbow fire, and with an easy escape route. If he can take the hound down, he should be able to escape the Dark Elves during the night.

Anarion: "I concur with Talos' plan. It would be best if Aruthan led the rest away." said Anarion.

"Talos, you may wish to do this on your own. However, if you choose, I can accompany you. I have the abilities to remain undetected and to move silently as well. It's your choice. You must weigh the greater chance of detection against the better odds of success with two. If you choose to go alone I will bring up the rear with the rest and ensure that our passage is undetectable."

Anarion awaited Talos' reply....

Solidus Snake: Grunting as he ripped the crossbow bolt out of his leg, Sparda reached for his glaive and swung it into the ground in anger, "If anyone will go it will be me, i have my own score to settle with our accursed kindred."
He looked at Talos through the cowel that disguises his face, his eyes burnt with hatred. "We might strike lucky and pick them all off one by one, so yes....or no." he growled

Calarion: Arguing is an unwise choice when the Dark Elves are currently climbing up the cliff-face, just as you did. The Shadow Warriors run with bows drawn as the first appears over the cliff, and he is sent flying off the cliff's edge with one of Talos' arrows in him. Aruthan drops a second, and then there is no time to think, just to run. At least a few dark elves will have to take their last Beasthound around, and so it will be a while until it can appear.
The druchii behind you are faster. While you have rcovered largely from the poor conditions of the night before, you are still wounded and tired, disadvantages they don't suffer from. A hail of arows follows you, and there is nothing you can do but run as fast as possible. Plans fly from mind: survival is key. You sprint through the sparse forest (heading roughly north-west, not straight for the Coraith manor at all...), hoping beyond hope that some opportunity will present itself for your salvation.
It does.
Suddenly, the ground all around you erupts into elven-shaped forms, and the sky becomes dark with a hail of arrows. The Dark Elves scream and fall, collapsing near-simultaneously from the relentless barrage. It takes a second for you to tell what has happened, but understanding comes: you have been rescued by a band of Shadow Warriors!
One of them steps forward, still holding his longbow in a way that he can fit an arrow to the string and fire it instantly should he need to.
"Who are you, and what is your purpose here?" he asks grimly.

Never moon a werewolf.

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Feb 04, 2005 6:22 am 
The White Lion
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Pages 4 and 5, minus the OOC stuff....

Bob of Yvresse: Obviously still in pain from a score of Crossbow bolt wounds, Avel steps forward "Thankyou for your timely intervention Mi'lord, we are a party of survivors from the great battle against our foul kin.....we are all the remain...the enemy had a score of dragons...and I fear they have Anlec in their hands as we speak" Avel's eyes eventually finding their way towards the ground.

Crazylisk: "As Avel mentioned we are survivors from a Druchii attack about two days ago. The battle took place in Anlec, and it is very likely that it is now completely under the control of the foul Druchii. I don't know if there were any others that managed to make it out alive. We were hoping to reach Coraith manor to warn of the battle. But it has been hard going, trying to keep these others safe from the Dark Elves." Talos said, looking in the mages direction.

Etherion Fenix: Aruthan went on bended knee. "My Lord Enthardon, i am most glad to see you once more. Your timely intervention has saved us and allowed the information we have to be passed along. We are weary and injured, but there are more Druchii coming and there is bound to be reinforcements to them. Once we reach the abode of Lord Calaidan may we fully recount what has transpired so far."

Calarion: Enthardon Aesanar frowns. "I knew that there was a Dark Elven army in Nagarythe, but the fall of Anlec...this bodes ill. Clearly this is the beginning of another great campaign in Ulthuan..."
He sighs.
"Your mission is important, word of this must reach Calaidan, and I must speak with him myself clearly. You will come with me, for I have other tasks to accomplish first, but then we will head for the Coraith manor tomorrow."
You begin a swift march to the camp of the Shadow Warriors. Enthardon does not encourage idle chatter, but he freely replies to any questions you might have. He tells you that he and his band have been ambushing and destroying druchii forces piecemeal, like the one you fell afoul of. Next they will meet with another force, led by Thyaias Aelinuial, at a set of caves that serves as their camp, and from there split to accomplish more missions of spying and sabotage.
The march is set at a gruelling pace, and you find yourselves lagging. It is nearly noon, many hours after the battle with the scouts, that you find yourself entering hilly ground, the foothills on the Annulii Mountains. Clearly you have gone a long way south of where you had been. The cave itself is camoflaged by an artfully constructed landslide, but Enthardon finds the appropriate rock, and tugs it aside to reveal a cave. In single file, you enter.
The caves inside are best described as a warren. They have clearly been expanded by the Shadow Warriors for their personal use, and consist of one large central chamber, more than big enough for all your party, and the Shadow Warriors already there. There are also smaller chambers offset, which seem to be set up as sleeping quarters.
As you enter, Enthardon is met by a tall, attractive-looking woman in soft grey robes - clearly Thyaias. They talk for a time in hushed voices, and no one pays any attention to you. Then Enthardon breaks off, and approaches you.
"Well, I can offer you your choice of entertainments," he says with a slightly sardonic voice. "The Dark Elves are shortly going to be attacking the village of Nelias, and if we hurry we can warn the inhabitants and organise some defence. There are also many bands of dark elven scouts to be attacked and destroyed. A scouting mission to Anlec is to be taking place, and finally the Daemon Stalker, Thyaias, has requested a few hardy elves for a mission of hers. Do as you will, or stay here and rest: the choice is yours."

Bob of Yvresse: "Although I dearly wish to aid Thyaias, my place is defending the local village, my skills as a leader and tactician would be put to best use... " stated Avel, briefly looking at Thyaias, then Enthardon, "Who will stand with me?" challenged Avel."

Crazylisk: "I will undertake which ever mission you think you could use the extra numbers, just as long as I get to kill Dark Elves." Talos says.

Etherion Fenix: "I greatly wish to return to Anlec. I need to see with my own eyes what perversion they may have brought to that place."

Anarion: Anarion was thoughtful. Each of the tasks that Enthardon had laid out had its own appeal. Ulthuan's need called him to serve first its inhabitants but the woman Thyaias intrigued him also. The mission to Anlec was best served by Shadow Warrior, of course. Few others could make such a trek through dark elf infested lands undetected but the Shadow Warriors knew their land as well as they knew themselves. He would only do this if accompanied by several of them, but his experience with Talos and Aruthan suggested they did not enjoy the company of Asur from the other kingdoms.

Anarion made up his mind. If the lady Thyaias could give him a reason to serve her above and beyond his calling he would accompany her, otherwise he felt he should accompany Avel.

Anarion approached Thyaias. "My lady, the Lord Enthardon has told us you are enlisting aid for a task that you would have undertaken. Can you tell me more about it? I feel that I should stay here and defend the citizens of this land, but mayhap you can give me a reason to accompany you?"

Solidus Snake: After applieng the bandages to his wounds, Sparda set about putting a traveling pack together, containing the bare essiencials of food and water that would last him a week at most. He then set about sharpening his glaive with a whetstone. "I have a few things that need taking care of"
He tested the sharpened glaive by splitting a strand of his hair over it,
"Dont find me, I'll find you" and with that, he left, using his glaive as a staff.

Anarion: Anarion grimaced as the reckless Caledorian slipped back outside. "Do you think it is wise to let him run off like that? Perhaps someone should go after him?"

Crazylisk: "Let him go, if he wants to get himself killed, that so be it. The Shadow Warriors have better things to do that baby sit, that rock headed Calderion." Talos said, not really caring that the Calderion was gone. "As for him finding us, well I have no idea how good he is at tracking, but I have a feeling he'll have more trouble than he expects finding us. Stupid Calderion."

Calarion: @ Anarion:
Thyaias draws you aside. "The Witch King has revealed his hand early this time. He's summoned daemons of Chaos to aid him, and even now they scythe through the air over Nagarythe. I will not let such foul abominations remain...we will hunt them down and destroy them like the perverted freaks they are."

Elthair: Ytharon still didn't feel well. His head was acing, and his body didn't repsond correctly to whatever he asked it to do. However, he could think clearly again. Much of the journey op to now he could hardly remember. probably he wouldn't want to anyway, he figured.

It was getting better though, and it wouldn't take long untill he would be actually useful again. After a short minute of thought, he took the warm cloak off his shoulders and handed it back to the Chracian.
"thank you for allowing me to borrow it." The words where meant. without cloak, his situation would have been far worse. And even though he didn't like it, he maybe also thanked something to the shadow warriors. However, those he would not thank even if they saved his life, in any case not without more than a bit of hestiation. Then, he turned to Thyaias

"Lady, I do not know what my companions will do. However, i myself am a mage of the white tower. I feel i would certainately be more usefull hunting down deamons than when slowing down the shadowwarriors, wherever they may go."

Anarion: Anarion nodded, a silent recognition of Ytharon's thanks as he accepted the cloak.

He turned to face Thyaias again. "I too will accompany you then for this need is great."

Bob of Yvresse: Turning away is dismany, with his back to the other elves "Then I guess I must face the hardship by myself...I shall depart immediately..." gathering his equipment Avel departs the cave heading towards his destination. Looking once more at the shadow warriors and their lord, Thysaias, and then his once companions...disappointment apparent on his face Avel leaves.

Solidus Snake: The air that night was kool, and the tension in it died down a little from the past events. The moons were up like silvery sentinals over a sea of darkness, as they watched the lone figure heading over the mountain range. Sparda let the wind caress his amply clothed figure and felt it sooth his wounds, the once proud battle standard of his company which he had strapped too his shoulder, teetered and tossed in the wind. Instantly the memories and vivid emotions were back, his foul kin tearing through the warriors he had once known as comrades and in a sense...brothers. He slashed left and right at these appirations hoping to send them away but they kept on tormenting him with scenes of torture and pain, torsos ripped open, heads pulled off by hooks and flayed skin taken as trophies. He cursed once again the dark kindred, and stumbled off into the night.

Calarion: The five Shadow Warriors led by Aruthan leave very early, as the trip to Anlec and back will take a long time - they will return most likely during the middle of the night. It is a long trek, and they have to avoid several patrols of druchii headed south from Anlec.
When they arrive, the sight is strange. Anlec is surrounded by a forest of tents; the Dark Elves have set up camp around the city. Although over 48 hours have passed, the Dark Elves are not rebuilding their capital. Strange...
As they watch, a massive Black Dragon spreads its wings and with a thunderous clap of them begins to fly northwards. The scouts can barely make out the shape of two figures on it - one clad in the white of an Asur, slumped over, and the other in metal...a shiver runs down their spines as they realise they are gazing upon their most hated and feared enemy...

Crazylisk: "I shall go with Avel, to the village. I'm sure there will be more than enough Dark Elves for me to kill." Talos says gathering up his items, and joining Avel, and the 100 Shadow Warriors heading to defend the village.

Bob of Yvresse: The citizen levy forming up at the centre, and the Shadow warriors holding the flank, the army was facing a numerically superior force. A mask of grim resolve was apparent on all the faces of the Elves, many of these men had a home here whilst the Shadow Warriors hated all their foul cousins and wouldn't give an inch...The druchii were in tight formation marching towards the fortified Elves. Just reaching bow range Avel gave the order "LET LOOSE!" the sky was filled with arrow shafts featuring white feathers. The aftermath of the first volley left many Druchii dead outright or laying screaming on the ground. Encouraged by their initial success the elves awaited the return volley to find that very few Asur fell in return. With the druchii now in earshot Avel yelled "RETREAT!" the Asur now turning and fleeing away from the advancing Druchii, who now more eager then ever charge towards the exposed rear of the Asur. Only to have hidden Shadow Warriors hiding in the scrub pile onto their flanks as per the pre-arranged plan. Seeing that their plan worked leaving the Druchii confused the Asur charge the Druchii again who are now fighting a battle on their flanks and their front. The fighting was brutal and bloody, elf fighting elf. With Avel and Talos in the thick of the fighting, supporting the elves that were in the thickest of the fighting. The tide was shifting in favour of the Asur and slowly but surely the High Elves cut the Dark Elves down to man, but they suffered a very heavy death-toll in the process...

"My kin...we should be proud we have repelled our foe...but many of our friends and family lie on the field...tonight we shall mourn for our fallen..."

Anarion: Anarion packed light. He didn't like to carry too much while travelling. Thyaias would lead them to caches of supplies if they were gone overlong, she'd said. She'd already left to wait outside. Across the cave he could see Ytharon and several others also making ready to travel.

He went outside to where she waited. "I am ready my lady."

"Good," she replied. "When the others arrive we will depart. What do you know of daemon hunting?"

"Nothing, but in the Annulii there live many savage monsters, griffons, chimeras and the like. I've hunted them before."

"You will need all your skill for this task," said Thyaias.

One by one Ytharon and the others joined them. Thyaias made no introductions, the accompanying Shadow Warriors were not inclined to be overly friendly, offering only cordial nods. The party turned to the north, back into the heart of enemy territory....

Bring me a daemon........

Crazylisk: Talos sat on the remains of the now ruined fortifications, and smiled behind his scarf as he saw the piles of dead Druchii. It had indeed been a great battle for the Shadow Warriors, they had completely destroyed the Dark Elf forces, Talos cared little that they had saved the village.

But next time he'd have to be a little more conservative when attacking his foul cousins, he was being too reckless and was going to get himself killed sooner than he'd like. Talos told himself he'd do better next time he face the Druchii.

With those thoughts in his mind he got up slowly, and limped off.

Etherion Fenix: A shiver run down Aruthans spine. The malice in this place was pulpable. A quick signal to the others and the group melted back into the shadowlands. What they had seen would need to be passed along to Lord Enthardon and Calaidan.

Calarion: Ytharon and Anarion, along with five Shadow Warriors, follow Thyaias through the war-blasted wilderness of Nagarythe. The Demon Stalker has no particular plans, but knows daemons are about and uses her magic to sniff them out. It's like the hunts that Anarion has been on before, for wild pig in the forests of Chrace, but this time the prey is far more dangerous, and you fear you may become the hunted without a moment's warning.
Another small village is found soon, and the state of the inhabitants is horrifying - Ytharon vomits up his last meal, and even the taciturn Shadow Warriors look pale at the atrocities. The bodies have been rent limb from limb, and blood is liberally splattered all over the once-white walls of the village, turning them a uniform crimson. The street is slick with entrails pulled from corpses, and the expression on their faces indicates that whatever did this did not wait for them to die first. The sickly-sweet odor of decaying flesh wafts into your nostrils, and the sound of flies buzzing around the corpses. It is when Anarion spots a little elf-girl, her face half gnawed off and the rest a mask of pure terror, slumped against a building. Flies are swarming over her wide open eyes and into her mouth, and now finally the food in Anarion's body refuses his orders to stay put in his stomach and he adds it to the sickening carnage.
Only Thyaias is unaffected - which is both admirable, but also more than a little disturbing that such horrors should be treated so lightly by her. She strides along dispassionately, not minding as the hem of her grey robe becomes a dirty red. "The devils are here. Be on your guard," she warns, and Ytharon notices that the hand holding her spear is clenched about it so tightly that the knuckles are white.
With a blood-chilling shriek, three winged figures launch themselves skywards. The Shadow Warriors react with admirable speed, but Thyaias is even faster, tracing the point of her spear through the air. An explosion of shadows spreads through the air, catching the daemons in mid-wing. Their screams sound like the wails of a cat being skinned alive as they plummet, burning, from the sky, and do not rise again.
Without warning, another cloud of daemons rises from about you, and swiftly descend from the sky to rake you. The Shadow Warriors let loose a hail of fire, and manage to fell one of the beasts.
"These are Furies!" Thyaias cries out as one swoops down to attack. "Minor daemons! Our weapons are sufficient to destroy these scum!" A gout of magical fire bellows from Ytharon's hand at a descending daemon, destroying it. Anarion sets his axe to meet another as it descends and strikes it in half. Thyaias runs another through with her spear, and nimbly flingers herself out of the way of another that rakes at her with blood-coated claws. Her spear sinks betweens its shoulderblades, destroying it. The Shadow Warriors manage to hack down another with their blades, and only a single one is left. Screeching, it rises into the air and flees.
Then it explodes. Fountains of ghoulish ichor burst in sheets from its body and fall like a sickening rain over the dead town. Thyaias lowers her hand, her face fixed in a rictus grin of vicious pleasure you find more disturbing that the daemons.
"We're finished here," she says, as she retrieves her spear from a fallen Fury. "Time to return to the others."

Calarion: You all return to the cave where the Shadow Warriors have their current home. A bonfire is lit in the middle of the cave (yes, they have vents so the smoke doesn't asphyxiate them all!) and the Shadow Warriors sit around it.
"Join us," Enthardon gestures. "Tonight we will tell stories of the past, to remind us why we are fighting this war and what is at stake."
You sit around the campfire, and Thyaias is the first to speak. Softly she tells a story of a daemon she fought, a great Prince of Daemons in lands far from Nagarythe. It is a thrilling tale, and climaxes unsurprisingly with Thyaias' vanquishing of the daemon of Nurgle.
When Thyaias stops speaking, Enthardon turns to you. "Guests, you have proven your valour today. Come, will one of you share a tale with us?"

Etherion Fenix: Aruthans mind wandered back.
"It was during one of the unnumerable and far to often incursions by our dark kin. A small band had penetrated deep into Nagarythe, a small group and I were dispatched to stop them. Upon the fifth day of tracking we came across them. We were outnumber 3 to 1, but that was quickly reduced as our unexpected volley decimated them as they camped. Battle was then meet in earnest, with blade meeting blade. Squaring off against the captain of the group, we parried, riposte and trust at each other for what seemed a day. Deftly flipping over a clumsy half swing, i thrust my sword straight through his neck. The remainder of the druchii force was systematically destroyed with not a single one left alive. Thankfully we lost few that day."

Bob of Yvresse: Stepping out from the shadows to join the Shadow warriors huddled around the fire, his face a mask of stoicism as ever."My mind wanders back to the Goblin invasion of Yvresse, my home-town."

"I was one of the regimental captains serving under Eltharion during his invasion of Naggaroth and was among those that saw him rise from death's door. The voyage home.... changed me forever. Eltharion...I can still hear his howl's at night. The mood of the rest of the voyage was one of pride; yet despair at the same time. As we sailed into harbour and witnessed the atrocities the goblins had committed, we begun to realise why Eltharion had brought us home. My men and I were part of the first wave to engage the goblins. We cut a swathe through them, none escaped our bloody hatred, seeking vengeance we fought our way toward the centre of the city. That's where I saw Grom, their foul leader. I bellowed a challenge at the top of my voice which sent nearby goblins running and even made the elves take a step back. We fought for a while, although he was far stronger than I, I was much quicker then he. Sneaking under his axe I managed to slip my knife beneath his ribs causing him a terrible wound, causing him to lash out in pain with a mailed fist sending me flying away from him. I struck a nearby tower rendering me unconscious. When I awoke the goblins had long since fled and I was being attended to by an Elven maiden..." Realising he said more than he meant to Avel turned from the group and went outside.

Crazylisk: Talos sat quietly off to one side listening to what the others had to say. When the others had finished Talos stood up.

" I shall tell you a little story about the Shadow Warrior, the Mage and the Dragon Prince that were ship wrecked on a small island.

These three elves had been stuck on the island for a few days, when suddenly a Pheonix appears before them. 'I shall give each of you one wish, the only condition is that I will not kill or destroy anything.' the Pheonix says.

The Shadow Warrior steps forwards, 'There are still many Dark Elves to kill within Ulthuan, and I shall not rest until I see them driven from our shores. I wish to return to Ulthuan and join my fellow Shadow Warriors, in their fight against our dark counsins.'
The Shadow Warrior disappears in a ball of fire.

The Mage then steps forward, 'I had been working on a spell which would revolutionize the way women wash clothes. As such I wish to return to the White Tower and continue my research.'
The Mage also disappears in a ball of fire.

The Dragon Prince scratches his jaw and thinks hard about what his going to wish for. Finally he turns to the Pheonix, 'Well I'm rather lonely here, I wish you'd bring the other two back.'

The moral of this story is to always let rocked headed Caledorians go first."

Calarion: The Shadow Warriors (who have relaxed considerably) burst out laughing at Talos' joke. Even Enthardon's permanent frown cracks into a slight smile.
"Friends, you have entertained us well, and now I will tell you a story," Enthardon says. "I will tell you the story of Alith Anar, the greatest of our kind. When the Witch-King began his depraved rule in Anlec, it was Alith Anar that led the true Nagarythi against his foul armies. He became feared by them, as a shadow in the night that could not be stopped. He slew a vast host of the Dark Elves at Griffon Pass, which is now the Griffon Gate, and nailed the seven hundred survivors up on the cliff-face, and their bones can still be seen today. Forever the Witch-King sought to destroy his most hated enemy, but he was not smart enough to outwit the King of the Shadows. After Anlec was razed and the Dark Elves driven from our land, our great leader disappeared into the shadows, never to return. But our legends state that somewhere, the Shadow King's soul endures, and will never truly perish until the monster in Naggarond is destroyed once and for all. He has returned to aid us before, when our need was great. One day, when our need is greatest, he will return to us again and finish his eternal battle against Aenarion's perverted offspring..."

Enthardon's story finishes the fireside gathering. The Shadow Warriors begin looking for beds, and you are all given some too. These are the most comfortable you've had for a while, even though they are basically mats and rugs on the ground, and after the hardship you've endured, even Ytharon can't complain. You fall into a deep slumber, knowing that on the next day you will begin the march to warn Calaidan Coraith of the massacre at Anlec...

Calarion: First Experience Time! Everyone gets a few extra character points, based on how much they've contributed, what they've achieved, and how well they've RPed their characters so far.

ANARION gets 3 Points
ARUTHAN gets 4 Points
AVEL gets 3 Points
SPARDA gets 3 Points
TALOS gets 3 Points
YTHARON gets 4 Points

If you're wondering, the minimum on my scale is 1, and the maximum possible 5.

Anarion: Anarion only half listened as the other elves told their tales. The stench of raw flesh and the horrors he had witnessed were still too fresh in his mind for him to be interested. He was glad when the others called it a night and he was able to fall asleep. Even his dreams were haunted....

Calarion: It is daytime almost too swiftly to be natural, you feel, as the Shadow Warriors rouse you. Enthardon looks vaguely amused as he explains he let you lie in as long as possible - but it is time to head for the Coraith manor. You eat breakfast on the march, travelling again as swiftly as possible. Many of the Shadow Warriors do not accompany you - they, led by Thyaias, will continue to harry the druchii as long as possible. They cannot stop the advance - even now, the Dark Elves are reported by scouts to be moving swiftly through Nagarythe - but they can hinder them, and delay them as long as possible.
The march is long, and the sky is dark and overcast the whole day. Enthardon tells you curtly that you are heading for the ruins of Athel Tamarha, a city that existed in the Shadowlands before the Sundering, to camp the night there. From there, tomorrow you can cut through the Hills of Adran and Eagle Pass to reach Calaidan's manor, in the Annulii Mountains.
You left shortly before daybreak, and is it well after dusk when you ford the last river and can see the ruined spires of Athel Tamarha before you. Enthardon presses on stoically, but the rest of you don't have his stamina and are lagging - even the other indefatiguable Shadow Warriors seem slightly tired.
It is when you are nearing the ruins that Enthardon gestures for you to stop.
"There are druchii in Athel Tamarha. Not many - we shall teach them the foolishness of their temerity."
Prepare as you will...

Etherion Fenix: Aruthan slowly and methodically puts an arrow to bow. Again the Druchii shall feel the point of his Longbow in battle.

Crazylisk: Talos draws an arrow from the quiver on his back, and starts moving stealthily forward to find a decent spot to ambush the Druchii from.

Bob of Yvresse: Already in position for ambush, Avel nods knowingly towards Talos as he notches an arrow.

Calarion: You move into the ruins. There are about twenty druchii camped here, with sentries around a camp. They do not notice you, even tired as you are, as you slowly surround them. Bowstrings are fitted, arrows nocked.
And then in one vicious barrage the arrows are released. Seven of the druchii collapse and one is wounded before they rally and attack. The melee is thick and furious, but the druchii are surrounded and inferior-skilled, and are cut down to an elf.
After the battle, you look at the damage. None of you are dead, but Anarion collapses against a wall, his face pale. His entire side is soaked a deep, deep crimson. Avel also has a nasty cut oozing blood on his leg, while Talos sports an evil-looking purple bruise.

(For those counting: Enthardon killed 5, Aruthan killed 5, Ytharon killed 2, Avel killed 2, Talos killed 1, and the Shadow Warriors killed 5 between them. Anarion took 10 damage, Avel took 4, and Talos took 2)

Etherion Fenix: Aruthan could only roll his eyes at the Chracian. "By Asuryan your a trouble to me White Lion. It seems everytime we get into a scarp you get yourself badly wounded."
He then set about mending the wounds of those who had suffered during the battle.
While tending to the wounds he could only admire the fact he had killed as many as Lord Enthardon.

Bob of Yvresse: Avel slumps down on a rock to tend to the wound on his leg, as always his face stoic, and impossible for anyone to figure out what he's thinking.

Anarion: Anarion grinned weakly at Aruthan. "Well it's all fine for you to sneak in and get the killing blows while I mete out the real damage. And you should be glad I'm here to soak up all the punishment. Anyway it's no worse than the other one and I was right as rain very quickly after that one. Thanks for your ministrations." Anarion grimaced at his side. The new wound wasn't quite so bad as the first one but the blow had reopened the spear wound. He put on a brave face for the Shadow Warriors but in truth his side hurt like hell.

Crazylisk: While the others attended to the wounded, Talos searched around the ruins to see if he could find any tracks left by the Dark Elves.

Solidus Snake: The earth was disturbed in patches, you need'nt be a skilled woodsman to figure out what markings where these, there was a huge gathering of druchii here... With blood... Lots of blood. Sparda wrinkled his nose to the acrid smell which permeated the air around him and walked off, the spectres of his visions receeding to where ever they dwelt before appearing again. The cold woods and the enclosing giant trunks fenced him in at spots and made him feel trapped, and felt almost a longing for those high and arrogant shadow warriors. He cast a thought about what he had done when he left the shadow warriors sanctum.

"The masked one fled this way!"

The cries of the druchii filled the mountain range as scouts sped across it, the craggy rocks and outcrops niether delaying or hindering the trained assassins. Like shadows they crissed crossed over the mountain towards the stumbling elf scurring up the the rockface, Sparda hesitated for a sec to pull the bolt out of this side and looked at the 3 over bolts in his leg and lower chest. "Last requests? kindred..." the figure spat at sparda drawing out two cruel knives with serpintine blades, Sparda cursed at his lack of a weapon and threw a sizeable rock at the shadow like being, glancing off its blade with cold effieciency. The glaive that never left his side was down somewhere in that gorge, never to be found again, yet Sparda drew himself up and hurled himself at the assassin, tumbling down the mountain-side with him.

He came to moments later, the mangled corpse beside him that broke his fall. He ached all over, but he knew his pursueors where onto him and jogged as fast as his battered legs could carry him into the woods.
In the night the trunks looked like large hulking terrors that would rend an innocent apart, this along with the fact that there was several druchii assassins behind him didnt help keep his cool. He stood square in a clearing screaming a challange too all that could hear it, the moon beat down upon him with savage influence.

Anarion: Anarion looked at Sparda quizzically. "Are you sure you didn't take a knock in battle? You seem to be hallucinating again. Pull yourself together or you'll get yourself killed." He winced at the irony as it was he who seemed to be almost getting killed.

"We should keep moving, Lord Enthardon. I will manage well enough."

Elthair: "I might even get USED to this..." Ytharon spoke to himself in disbelief. He had always though that traveling with an army wa uncomfortable but right now he would wish to risk his life for it.
Weeks ago he would have believed no civelised elf could ever survive so many time in the wild, even without a decent tent yet he was still alive, the food they had eaten had tasted badly, but hadn't been lethal...

Still, this one adventure was more than enough for him. He wanted to get out of here. Seeing his companions wouldn;t be too much of a help when trying to get back to the real world, He himself and noone else would have to make sure that happened...

Never moon a werewolf.

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Feb 04, 2005 6:32 am 
The White Lion
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Page 6..... 1 and a half to go...

Calarion: The next day dawns, and again you are already marching on when it has. But as you crest the first slopes of the Hills of Adran, you turn (from some prescience) and cast your gaze back over the barren, once-beautiful lands of Nagarythe. The usually slate-grey barrens are now covered with a black shadow...and you can see more shapes above it. It looks like some sort of blight upon the land, slowly spreading...
"The Witch-King moves," Enthardon says, and presses onwards with more fervour.
The Hills of Adran are a lot more beautiful than most of Nagarythe. They are still largely barren, but shoots of green grass protrude in frequent clusters, and the tall pine trees are more frequent here. Enthardon tells you that ever since Calaidan's father came here, they have been trying to reclaim the Shadowlands from the press of eternal war. Melenar Coraith, the first Lord of Nagarythe, used his magic and that of his allies to slowly restore the fertility of the land, and Calaidan has been continuing his crusade. So far, though, barely any of the land has been returned to nature as planned. Enthardon also tells you that the villages you've seen are also part of the slow reclamation of the Shadowlands, that Calaidan has been encouraging settlers and been equipping them with arms so they can resist the druchii, and now a handful of villages have sprung up in the Shadowlands. Slowly, due to the efforts of Calaidan Coraith, Nagarythe is returning to what it may have been before the endless warfare between the Dark Elves and the Shadow Warriors destroyed it.
You continue your march through the day, and into the night. Enthardon insists that you not set up camp, for Calaidan's manor is not too far now. The stars open up above you, as you finally reach Eagle Pass: the fortifications in the Hills of Dusk that guards the Coraith mansion. These hills are far more jagged and rocky than the others, and you are sure you would be lost had you not Enthardon to guide you. Soon you halt before a giant white gateway, a solid wall built across the pass guarded by two watchtowers, with a massive doorway studded with gemstones in the shape of a great eagle, wings outstretched. You can see in the darkness the shapes of elven sentries manning the wall. Enthardon shouts out, "Hail, the gate! Enthardon Aesanar and his companions seek entry!" On the wall, a voice replies. "You're here late, Enthardon. Something important?"
Enthardon grins mirthlessly. "Normally wagging my tongue with you amuses me, Tiacan, but I do not have the time to waste. Open the gate."
The speaker on the wall shouts his acquiescence, and then near noiselessly, and as a speed belying their size, the massive double doors swing open before you. Enthardon wastes no time, but presses on through them, and into the steep-sided canyon of the Eagle Pass itself.

Elthair: Seeing the fortress relieved Ytharon: it meantr in any case not another night in the middle of nowhere, which was a considerable improvement...

Crazylisk: Talos looked up at the large gates as he passed through, wondering how long they would last against the coming the Druchii force. He decided that how long they lasted probably wasn't that important, of more interest to him, was a particular Dark Elf that may be coming. He had not seen the Dark Elf he hunted at the battle a few days ago, but maybe there was chance the Druchii would be a part of the force attacking the eagle gate. Talos was fairly sure the he would be part of the massive Dark Elf force now encamped in Anlec.

With a small shrug of his shoulders Talos continued on, the only thing he knew for certain was that he had to make sure he didn't get himself killed before avenging his family.

Etherion Fenix; For the first time in many a while Aruthan had a warmth thought on his mind. The coming of House Coriath had been a most welcome thing in these blighted shadowlands. He had sworn fealty to that house for the deeds they had done and would suffer none to speak ill of it.
Coming to the fortifications of the Eagle Pass raised almost a smile to his lips. But that was quickly soured by the memory of what he had seen scant days earlier. He must go before Lord Calaidan and report what had happened.

Bob of Yvresse: Lost deep-in-thought Avel passed straight through the gates without even lifting his gaze from the ground.

Calarion: It is pitch black as you wend your way up the long road to Calaidan's manor. The sheer cliffs of Eagle Pass are high on either side of you, and you are reminded of the terrible battle that was fought here. A dark elven army, led by Calaidan's renegade brother Kaldor, entered the pass and massacred the defenders. Led by the heroic Imrallion, Eagle Pass was held for longer than seemingly possible against impossible odds, and the sacrifice of all the defenders gave Calaidan time to mount a defence of his manor and defeat his brother in mortal combat. You can see by Lileath's light a white monolith covered with mother-of-pearl, and engraven on that stone are the names of the defenders who fell that day.
You emerge from Eagle Pass and see the trails leads to a small village. Magelights cast the home of Calaidan Coraith into a dim light, a modest-sized manor house surrounded by a village of outhouses. You continue through the sleeping town, and up the stairs to the portico of the manor. Here you are greeted by an elven guard, who evidently recognises Enthardon as he lets you enter without question. "Fetch Calaidan," Enthardon says curtly. "Wake him if he sleeps." A soldier hurries to do as Enthardon has ordered, and you wait in the crisply cold entrance hall, dark and shadowed and gently breathed over with the night wind.
You are about to meet Calaidan Coraith.

Bob of Yvresse: Stepping outside briefly, Avel leaned against the wall letting the cool night-air caress his face, nodding and giving a courteous smile to a patrolling guard.

Crazylisk: Talos drew forth the long dagger that rested on his left hip, and idly started cleaning his nails with it as he waited for Calaidan Coraith to arrive.

Calarion: The guard returns, leading another elf who is clad in a simple white robe. He is short but handsome-featured, with a weary expression and dark blonde hair. This, then, is Calaidan, the Lord of the Shadowlands.
"Enthardon," he says wearily. "What is it?"
Enthardon gestures to you. "They'd explain better than I, Calaidan."

Bob of Yvresse: Avel, who had since returned from outside simply stood in the corner and stared straight at Calaidan not uttering a word.

Crazylisk: Talos looked up from cleaning his nails as Calaidan entered the room, and stood silently in the shadows as Calaidan asked what was going on. As Enthardon gestured towards the group, Talos looked around at the other members.

It was clear that Avel had no idea what was going on, looked more like he'd seen ghost, and was probably incapable of speaking, as for the rest of the group well who knew what they were thinking, but that didn't stop Talos for guessing as he waited for someone to reply.
Well the silly mage was probably planning to set one of the buildings on fire and get some sleep. While the Caledorian was probably planning to run off and get himself killed. The white lion was probably still busy bleeding, or planning to unite all of the elves. And the other shadow warrior would have some nice icey comment for all.

After no one had answer Talos sighed, "Fine, I'll tell him what happened. Well a few days ago a large High Elf army was slaughtered at the hands of bastard son and his Dark Elf army. This army included about five dragons. They now hold Anlec, and have setup a camp around there."

Calarion as Solidus Snake: Sparda, usually grimly quiet, decides to elaborate on what Talos has said.
"Malekith has conquered Anlec, and defeated the garrison there. Warden Eltharion is in his hands. His army is massive, it's destroying Nagarythe even as we speak, and it's on the march...Malekith's not stopping with Anlec, his goal is Ulthuan."

Calarion: Calaidan's sleep-blurred eyes go wide. "By Hoeth!" he swears, and then snaps at the guard. "Get me a map of Nagarythe, immediately!" The soldier breaks off at a sprint while Calaidan spins and storms into a small room with a table. He clears it rapidly, and then waits as the map appears. Swiftly he unfurls the large parchment, and the painstakingly hand-drawn map lies over the table.
Calaidan waves his hand, and a number of pins with large back heads materialise in his hand. He plunges one into the map, at Anlec. Enthardon points silently at a ring of villages surrounding Anlec, and Calaidan plants a pin in each of those two.
The end result is not encouraging. Much of the northern half of Nagarythe is already under Dark Elven control, and many villages have been destroyed. Calaidan's eyes are tight with anger and you realise that his life's work, restoring life to the Shadowlands, is being completely destroyed by the Dark Elves and he is powerless to stop them.
"I'll mage-burn a letter to the Phoenix King immediately," Calaidan says. "Meanwhile, get word sent to Captain Tiacan, we must levy the troops here." He looks exhausted in the light of the early morning, but also determined...he will not give up so easily.
Then there is a sound from above...a daemonic roar, and the beating of huge leathery wings.
"By Hoeth!" Calaidan swears again. "They're here, already!" He sprints out of the door and deeper into the manor, while Enthardon moves at a dead run towards the exit, to see what is happening outside...leaving you all in the map room together.

Bob of Yvresse: Leaping into action, Avel raced towards the nearby door, narrowly missing Enthardon as he sprinted through the door. Bursting outside next to Enthardon.

Calarion as Solidus Snake: Sparda runs from the building, following Enthardon and Avel.

Crazylisk: Talos winces as he hears the demonic roar and the flapping of wings, it seems the Dark Elves had arrived, and it was a lot quicker that Talos had anticipated.

Sheathing his dagger, he follows Avel outside, making sure to keep to the shadows.

Calarion: You all burst out the door, and look up in the dim early light of the pre-dawn night to see a horrible sight. The sky is full of twisting, writing shapes that resolve themselves as flying creatures, headed straight down...Furies. Suddenly the reason why Malekith summoned the daemons is obvious - to mount this very aerial assault. You wish Thyaias were here.
The Daemons swoop down, battling the seriously outnumbered High Elven warriors. They fight desperately, to hold them off until the rest of the guards here can arrive and help even out the fight. You can see flames too, Druchii warriors with torches being dropped off by dark pegasi, running through the streets.
And then in a massive fireball three houses explode, and the same ear-shattering bellow is heard. The wings beat, and instinctively you look up...
...as one of Malekith's black dragons swings around for another pass.
Enthardon has his bow out and is pumping arrows at whatever target comes closest. Calaidan is nowhere to be seen. The situation is desperate.
If you do not do something soon, then the Coraith manor will surely be destroyed and Nagarythe fall completely into the hands of the Dark Elves.

Bob of Yvresse: Grim as ever, Avel nodded towards Talos knowingly, rushing to man the RBT's to bring down the huge dragon...

Crazylisk: Talos looked out at the large force of demons and Dark Elves arrayed against them, he had no trouble with the Dark Elves, and killing them was one of the few things he enjoyed. But demons.... at least there were only smaller ones flying around, and none of the greater ones in sight.

Muttering a few curses under his breath, Talos ran towards the repeater bolt thrower. Helping Avel aim the bolt thrower at the dragon flying over the eagle pass.

Elthair: He rushes out of the building and spots his enemies in the sky: Deamons... Not quite the opponent Ytharon expected to see but not undefeatable... The mage knew how to deal with these. They where not resistant to magic and if he remembered correctly the furies would be unable to fly when damaged badly enough. Once on the ground, they would hardly pose the tread they posed in the air...

"i'll take care of them" he muttered, while he directed a small fireball at a fury who came just too close to the mage who had learned more about the effect of direct damage spells in days that in the rest of his entire life...

"Dragon!" a guard screamed in terror and Ytharon looked around. Quickly he made his decision: the dragon was an easier target for the troops on the ground that the furies. if he could protect the boltthrowers from the furies, the dragon would recieve the neccisary damage from them. If this didn't work out, well, then he could always switch target.

Anarion: Anarion paused in shock as he stepped outside just as the dragon made its first pass. He took in the situation in a brief sweeping glance, noticing Talos and Avel running for the nearest bolt thrower. The mage Ytharon had balls of fire starting from his fingers. Anarion realized that the mage must be defended at all costs if they were to survive. Gripping his axe in one hand he sprang to Ytharon's side in time to meet the descending Furies. He snatched a small shield from the body of a fallen warrior as he did so to protect his weakened side.

Etherion Fenix: Aruthan knew Lord Calaidan would not give in to the Druchii force easily and must be planning something. He ran back into the manor to find Calaidan and help him in what ever manner he could.

Calarion: Avel, Talos, and Sparda attacked the Dark Elves who had captured the Bolt Throwers. Talos was wounded for 5, and Sparda for 3, bu they defeated all the druchii there and secured the Eagle Claws.

Anarion and Ytharon were both taken out after a heroic stand against the Furies, taking 8 of them with them. Neither was slain, fortunately, as Aruthan arrived and felled the last Furies attacking them with his bow.

Calaidan appeared with his ancestral sword Deathsinger, in which was set one of the Tears of Isha. Using its power, he quickly changed the course of the battle and even managed to ward off the dragonflame.

The Dragon was struck by a bolt shot by Avel and Talos, while Sparda held off the druchii trying to recapture the bolt thrower, becoming even more wounded in the process. The Dragon fled the battle, and with that and Calaidan's appearance the battle was over

Never moon a werewolf.

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Feb 04, 2005 6:44 am 
The White Lion
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Joined: Mon Jun 07, 2004 1:25 pm
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And the last bit... after this the story carries on in the thread on this site.

Etherion Fenix: A bold move to strike so deeply so quickly. They must be being driven by Malekith to reach further and further into Ulthuan.
He could only shake his head at the Chracian. It was becoming an all to common thing to bandage him up. He was beginning to wonder if he had a spear me sign engraved into armour or something. The others would need to wait a little before Aruthan could attend to their wounds.
Aruthan couldnt help feel that it was more the appearance of Calaidan more then anything that had sent the Druchii fleeing. A sure sign they may just be testing the strengths of those that remain to challenge Malekiths expansion into the rest of Ulthuan.

Crazylisk: Talos watched the dragon flying off with the bolt protruding from it's side, once he was sure it wasn't going to return he drew forth both his swords, and removed the heads of all the nearby Druchii. Just to make extra sure that they weren't getting back up.

Deciding that there might be a few Dark Elves that may be clinging to life around the place, Talos heads off to make sure that they won't be seeing the next sunrise.

Anarion: Anarion shook his head in return. "Nice of you to return at the end of the battle," he mumbled. "At least that way you only have to patch me, instead of bury me. Of course, maybe if you had come with us you might have been able to help us."

After this, the pain of his wounds was too much and he lapsed into unconsciousness.....

Calarion: The battle is over, and all that is left is the crackling of burning houses and the moans of the dying and wounded. Enthardon and the Shadow Warriors perform the grim task of moving amongst the dead, beheading the wounded dark elves, and killing any High Elves who are too greviously injured to fight. Calaidan meanwhile organises the warriors into relief squads to evaquate any of the burning houses. A stream of frightened elves areherded into the manor house, as Calaidan uses his magic to control the massive fires that are raging and to bring them under control. It is time consuming work, and the sun has risen again by the time the fires have all died down, all the refugees evicted from their houses have taken to the mansion, and all the wounded have been carried into the wing of the mansion that will serve as sick quarters. Amongst these are Ytharon, Anarion, and Talos: Sparda's wounds are too light to take any priority and he has to settle for a quick bandage from Aruthan.

Aruthan, Sparda, and Avel soon receive a message from Calaidan summoning them to his private chamber. Enthardon is already there, and Calaidan too: gathered around the map table. Calaidan is now wearing proper clothes: he has taken the time to change.
"Friends, I am grateful to you," Calaidan says solemnly. "Your warning of the druchii presence at Anlec roused me and sufficient warriors to repulse their lightning attack. Had we all slumbered...there may not have been any survivors here today. Also, you fought valiently during the battle. Seizing control of the Bolt Throwers and driving off the dragon...you may have won us the battle."
It was obvious, of course, that Calaidan near-singlehandedly won the battle, but he is elevating your role and it makes you feel proud.
"How are your wounded comrades coming along?" he asks. "I would have had them here too."
After you answer, he directs your attention to the table. "I have been in touch with the Eagles of the mountains, and they have ranged far and wide to bring me reports. Malekith is not following up his initial attack with an assault on Eagle Pass. With an army the size of his, he could crush us easily, but we would be a hard nut to crack. Instead, he has split his army and razed the following villages..." his voice cracks for a second, as his hand points out nearly all of the towns he and his father had established. Calaidan's dream is well and truly dead.
There is a momentary pause while Calaidan collects himself, and then he moves on. "Since then, his army is on the move south. The foothills of the Annulii Mountains are crawling with druchii scouts."
"They're looking for something," Enthardon says. "But what? There are no passes there that would lead him over the mountains. He'd have to attack one of the Gateway Fortresses."
"I have no doubt that is what he will do, eventually. I have sent word to the Phoenix King, and he has just replied. No less a personage than Prince Tyrion has agreed to lead an army to reinforce the Gateway Fortresses. Against such a commander as he, the dark elves will not manage to break through when they move to assail the Gates."
"Mmm. But, this business of the mountains - it disturbs me. As is the report that Anlec is not, or was not being rebuilt. It has been the first thing they do every time, a symbol to their own kind."
Calaidan says, "This worries me too...it is unlike Malekith to do anything original or different. The only time he changed his plans was becuases of his general Mortharor, in the last war, and without him he has reverted to his usual tactics. So why..why is he doing things differently? I asked the eagles to fly to Anlec and see if it was being rebuilt yet. It is still in ruins, and they make no move to rebuild it. Curious."

Crazylisk: Talos was not pleased at being force to have his wounds treated when there might be more Dark Elves out there in need of having their heads removed.

The healer said the reason Talos was feeling light headed, was due to the lose of blood, and that he needed to rest. Talos knew this was just an excuse to get him into the sick quarters, he'd lost more blood before and still kept going. He was just a little tired from not having much sleep in the past few days, it had nothing to do with his injuries. As long as there were a dying Dark Elves out there in need of his assitance, he would be happy to keep going till he was sure they were all dead.

In the end Talos was given no choice in the matter when the Healer asked two nearby spearelves to help "guide" Talos towards the sick quarters.

Etherion Fenix: "I think we can then safely guess that Malekith has found one suitably corrupt to lead his forces into Ulthuan. The only real question is who it could be. Must we be forever tormented by their undying hatred?"

Bob of Yvresse: Charging towards a pair of the Druchii guarding the Repeater Bolt Thrower, Avel slammed into them, knocking them over, using his shield and sword to bat their spears away. Before the Druchii could recover, Avel was raining a hail of blows upon the stricken Druchii. Striking as hard as he could at the now prone Druchii, a feeble attempt to parry was made by the Druchii, but the sword went straight through the Spear and cut his skull in twain. Shifting his attention onto the other Druchii, who had now had time to recover but was obviously on the verge of panic. But seeing his companions had been cut down, like a cornered animal he lashed out with a dangerous ferocity. Charging headlong at Avel with no regard for his personal safety, Avel sidestepped the clumsy advance and with a spin the Druchii's head hit the floor before the body did. Avel looked around to see that although Talos and Sparda had dispatched their foes, they had been injured in the process. As one Avel and Talos manned the RBT with a seemingly practised efficiency, sending a bolt flying remarkably straight into the Dragon's flank shredding it. With this the Dragon cried out in pain and surprise and left the battlefield. Avel allowed himself a rare smile; the tide of this battle had turned.

Bob of Yvresse: Inspecting the map Avel remarked "If I was leading the enemy army, I would of attacked the Phoenix Gate before it could be reinforced by Tyrion. At which point I would of moved straight for Lothern, killing the Phoenix King, and as a result demoralising us beyond a point of return. At which point I would retreat to Naggaroth to establish fortification, and sending assassins to knock out any remaining threat to him (i.e. the Everqueen, Tyrion, Teclis, Calarion.) Yet...he seems to be focussing his efforts around the mountains, which makes no sense at all. He must be looking for something of extreme importance to waste such an important opportunity, I must suggest that some skilled scouts to investigate his actions in the mountains..." having said that Avel took a step backward from the table to examine his companion's reactions.

Calarion: As you try to figure out the possible reasons of what Malekith could possibly want, you hear steps outside the door and soon a young elfwoman can be seen. She is short, and very attractive, with long brown hair and a smiling, warm face.
"Father?" she says. "Father, I'd like to go hawking."
Calaidan's trouble-knotted brow rises to look at her. "Tanelwen, dear, I'm afraid that's not possible. There are druchii everywhere, it's not safe."
She pouts (prettily). "But they're stupid and slow, I can avoid them. Please, father? Greywings wants to fly."
Calaidan's resolve is giving in fast, and you can see it. Everyone has their weakness, and his is his daughter.
"If you can find some soldiers to go with you, then you can go," he says, compromisingly.
"But all the soldiers are busy!" she complains. This is a very spoiled young girl...

Etherion Fenix: Aruthans duty to Calaidan would certainly extend to Tanelwen.
"I will volunteer to watch you Lady Tanelwen, if your father wishes it so."

Bob of Yvresse: Staring at Calaidan's daughter with a barely veiled disgust "Why don't you go ask Aruthan...he's probably got nothing better to do..." suggested Avel snidely...

Calarion as Solidus Snake: Sparda sneers and does not comment. He has more important things to do than babysit someone's kid daughter.

Anarion: When Anarion awoke he was lying in a bed in a room he did not recognize? "Where am I," he asked the elf lady who was tending him? "Rest easy," she replied. "You are in the care of Lord Caladain. These are his sick quarters."

Anarion groaned and sank back into the pillow. He ached all over and the multiple wounds were throbbing. It would be nice to see a mage with the lore of life, he thought. He did not relish a long time in bed.

Nearby he could see Talos pacing restlessly about the room. "I see they have locked you up here as well," he said to the irritable shadow warrior.

Crazylisk: Talos turned to face the white lion, who had once again managed to get himself beaten up.

"There are dark elves out there that need slaying and I'm stuck in here resting from my wounds. I've had far worse before and kept on going." Talos said, before resuming his pacing, while also muttering a few curses under his breath.

Aruthan and Tanelwen leave soon afterwards. The falcon Greywings sits hooded on Tanelwen's arm, and both of you ride dun steeds down Eagle Pass and back to the gate. There is a bit of difficulty at the fortifications, but Tiacan is convinced eventually to let you through. It is now noon-time, and the sun shines warmly, though dimly, on them. Tanelwen chatters happily as she rides, and Aruthan senses that she is not a bad girl: a bit accustomed to having her own way, but at heart a proud-spirited, caring young woman.
But of course he is waiting for what he knows is inevitable: some Dark Elves will appear. Nervously he strings his bow and fits an arrow to it...
Tanelwen gives a cry of delight and removes Greywings' hood, then jerks her arm upwards. A small bird wings its way through the sky, and the falcon gains height rapidly, talons outstretched. There is an explosion of feathers, and then Greywings swoops back down, as the broken bird falls.
Tanelwen rides up to the dead bird and lifts it: the first prey of the day. And still in good condition for eating: the mottled quail of the Shadowlands is a rare treat.
But Aruthan suddenly gives a jerk and raises his bow. He has heard another suspicious noise, and as a small group of Dark Elven scouts emerge, crossbows ready and aimed, he gives a great cry. "Flee Tanelwen!" he shouts, and releases the first arrow. The hastily-shot arrow flies through the air and stikes a druchii in the breast, but the chainmail armour makes it just bounce off. A hail of bolts are loosed in reply, and both your horses are struck. Tanelwen manages to bring her frightened, snorting mount under control, but Aruthan has no riding experience to speak of. His steed rears up, and as he tries to find something to clutch on to, the horse is overbalanced and topples. Aruthan realises his danger and flings himself out of the way, and lands heavily - but without the weight of the horse on top of him.
"Fly!" he shouts again at Tanelwen, who kicks her horse into a gallop back towards Eagle Pass. She needs no further encouragement. He draws another arrow as he moves behind the frantic bulk of his wounded horse, which thrashes about in pain - the bolt entered its lower neck. Another hail of bolts comes for Aruthan, and several of them strike his cover. The horse gives a great whinny and dies under the hail of black-shafted bolts.
Aruthan releases his arrow, and it strikes a druchii in the throat, making him topple back, dead.
There are only three druchii left, but this time one of the bolts strikes him in the arm: gouging a trail through leather armour, and nothing else, but it is still a message to him that he cannot stay here. Fleeing and hiding would be sensible. There are more of them, and they shoot more frequently too. He rises, turns, and flees into the foothills. First a few trees: he weaves through them with the three in hot pursuit. And now, the Hills of Dusk: sharp rocks jutting upwards, a chaotic mass of stone. Finding a likely spot, Aruthan drops to his knees behind a larger rock and draws his grey cloak over him. His longbow sits on his lap, still strung and with an arrow nocked. Evidently the dark elves know where he is, though, as they come bursting around the corner looking for him.
Aruthan rises swiftly, aiming and firing as he does. At this extremely close range, there is no way the leading Dark Elf can dodge, and the bolt strikes him in the eye, driving deep through the socket.
The other two Dark Elves are upon him immediately, holding their spears in two-handed grips. They thrust at him, and Aruthan howls in pain as one spear rips into his thigh. Abandoning the bow, he draws his short-bladed sword and strikes back, sending one of the dark elves falling back with blood streaming from a vicious cut. He fends the spear of the other off, then reaches out with one leg, hooking it around the wounded warrior. The dark elf gives a cry and falls, and Aruthan's sword drives deep into his neck, killing him.
Now there is just two of them, and they circle each other. The dark elf darts in first, and jabs his spear. It pierces Aruthan's breast, and blood flows freely. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Aruthan pulls the dark elf close and then swings the shortsword at the dark elf's head. The druchii's eyes widen and he pulls it back - far enough to save his life, for the strike shatters his lower jaw and transforms his face into a mangled mess. The dark elf clutches his face with one hand and lets out a warbling cry of agony, and strikes back at the wounded Shadow Warrior. Aruthan bats the spearhead to one side, and then strikes again. The blade drives through the hand clutching the druchii's face together, and then into the head. The dark elf falls immediately, and the shadow warrior wrenches his blade out messily, before staggering back to Eagle Pass...

Etherion Fenix: I was foolish to have gone alone. I should have made sure there was someone else with us. I knew Druchii would appear, im lucky to have scraped out of it alive as i am. Applying another turnicat to staunch the bleeding. I need to make it back, i must make it back. I have made them pay for attacking us, but my day has not yet come to pass on.

Calarion: Now most of you are consigned to the medical rooms, and those who are not visit them, spend time alone, or talk with Calaidan, as is their desire. It is getting late again by the time you are all allowed out, healed as well as possible, and given a room to bunk in (the manor is getting very full). Finally, you all settle down to a very well-deserved sleep...
In the middle of the night, you hear a noise! Someone is moaning and thrashing around, and it doesn't sound good. The noise is pretty close to here. Then suddenly you hear a cry, a shouted phrase, though it sounds so distorted you cannot make out the words. Now what?

Bob of Yvresse: Dagger in-hand, Avel heads down the corridor to investigate the sound. Avel's acute senses lead him to the room that the sound originated from...

Crazylisk: Talos draws forth one of his daggers and starts moving silently towards the sounds, wondering which of the healers let the half dead person out early. It was bad enough they keep him there for a few days, but to let this sick person out, when they couldn't do the same for him...

Etherion Fenix: Rising from his sleep, Aruthan follows the others. Speed is not on his mind as he hobbles along at the greatest pace his body can handle.
Such a strange cry though, a tingle ran up his spine when he first heard it and ever seen a forboding feeling has followed as the group made its way to the origin of the sound.

Calarion: You open the door, and see the source of the nightly disturbance...and it's slightly disturbing. On his narrow cot, Enthardon writhes and screams, as if in the grip of some terrible nightmare. His back is arched, and his hands are clenched into claws with tear at the sheets....

Bob of Yvresse: Putting his dagger away, Avel tenuously approached Enthardon. Meaning to awaken him. "Aruthan, fetch Calaidan" commanded Avel. Avel then attempted to gently wake Enthardon up.

Etherion Fenix: This was something greater then the skills of those present. Mustering as much strength as he could, Aruthan took off in search of Lord Calaidan. He would need to know of this, whether or not he could help would only be found out when he arrived to see for himself.

Calarion: Avel grabs Enthardon's shoulders, and suddenly the nightmare stop. Enthardon looks up.
"I must...go to the mountains..." he says in a strange voice.
At this point Calaidan appears, led by Aruthan. "What's going on?" the Lord of Nagarythe says.
Quickly you fill him in on the details and his eyes go wide. "I've...no idea!"
Enthardon seems to have fully woken up,and he gives a start as he sees the condition of his bed. "What happened?"
It soon becomes clear that Enthardon has no knowledge of the nightmare he evidently suffered, save that he knows he must go to the mountains, immediately...

Bob of Yvresse: Peeling Entharadon from his shoulders, Avel takes a step back to allow Calaidan to approach.

Calarion: Enthardon pulls himself up and begins to dress and arm himself rapidly. "There's no time to lose! I must get to the mountains!"
Calaidan says, "Why? What's there?" but is ignored.
As Enthardon is nearly ready, Calaidan gestures you all aside. "I don't know what's going on, but I can tell something big is happening. Please, go with Enthardon and find out what's going on. If the druchii are seeking whatever it is that Enthardon is looking for, it must be something of massive importance."

Bob of Yvresse: Avel nodded in acknowledgment of Calaidan, and gathered his equipment from his bunk, intent on keeping up with Enthardon.

Crazylisk: Talos ran his hand through his long black hair, contemplating what had just happened. He thought he had some idea what was going on, but since they would be heading off to the same mountain range the dark elves where searching, there were more important things to do that contemplate Enthardon's vision.

Talos cursed as he relised he had removed his weapons to sleep, thinking the manor would be well protected. That wasn't really the issues, it was just he wasn't ready to go in a moments notice. Moving swiftly from the room, he went off to get ready for the coming journey. He'd also need to make sure he'd get a rope or two.

Anarion: Anarion hurried to gather his gear. Quickly he headed to the armoury to see if he could acquire some slightly heavier armour. Since the shadow warriors were more about finesse and archery it would be up to him, Avel and Sparda to bear the brunt of melee damage. The armourer had a selection of equipment and Anarion chose an ilithmar breastplate and reached for his money pouch.

The armourer halted him, "There's no need for that. Lord Caladain instructed us that we should supply you with whatever you wish."

Anarion hurried to join the others, returning just as Enthardon was heading for the gate.

Calarion: It is not long before everyone is ready. Enthardon's mind is slowly returning to him, and he reluctantly waits while you all equip yourselves fully, as fast as possible. And then you set off again (bemoaning to yourself, in one case, the lack of good sleep this quest forces on you), through Eagle Pass and into the Hills of Dusk, out on the final stage of your Shadowlands quest...

Bob of Yvresse: Keeping up the Entharadon's rapid pace, climbing a crest Avel managed to take a moment to admire the sun rising, letting the warmth embrace his face...

Crazylisk: Talos decided to cover the left flank as they started following Entharadon, keeping an arrow at the ready at all times.

Never moon a werewolf.

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