Campaign I: The Sea Rises

Subject: Re: Campaign I: The Sea Rises Mon Sep 05, 2011 10:59 pm

The remaining wolflings fired the last of their ammunition into the heads, shoulders, and chests of the waning Dread. When the last bolts clicked out of their bows, they dove down into a last desperate attack against the creatures who had injured their blessed mother.

Teeth, claws, kicks and tears - it all injured their enemies. A few were knocked back and trampled - others were cut open, but still managed to fight.

Fakera was getting her wounds tended to. Progress was slow and quiet, as to not draw attention. It was painful getting stitched up with animal sinew and dull needles without any herbs to dull the pain, but she had to do what she had to do. It was not her time.

Not yet.

Admin Posts : 72 Join date : 2011-08-23

The seemingly infinite tide of Dread flowed around the beleaguered defenders like a riptide, cutting off and isolating individual fighters before bringing them down through weight of number alone. Their eldritch foes twitched and jerked around them, stabbing and hacking, pressing in on all sides, though the weight was especially heavy by Eruno and the fallen Fanglord.

Only three Skas'kar remained standing near their Iskari Lord, their axes bloodied and shields battered, but they were dogged in their determination to defend Ixirthos to their last breath, and the first time that Eruno would look over to the fallen Iskar, he would be able to see the massive, Draconic warrior making his way shakily to his feet, favoring his right leg, but he was alive, and that was more than many of the others on the battlefield could say.

But for how long would they live? There were so many Dread, and altogether, between the Wolflings and the Skas'kar, and their single Elven ally, they couldn't number more than 30. Attrition alone would soon spell their downfall...

And then a tree uprooted itself and with a roar that sounded like creaking bark amplified a hundredfold, slammed itself into the ranks of the Dread, well away from any of the defenders.
"Telan'ia, o'Sothe!" a piercing voice rang out, and the tree exploded into a thousand piercing splinters.

And then they came.

They ran out of the trees as though the wood was mere liquid, with swords that looked like long, hardened leaves that cut like diamond. They attacked with effete skill and savage grace, dancing into the conflict with quicksilver speed. Some moved from tree to tree, stepping into one old elm and moving out of another seventy feet away to stab a Dread in the back, before disappearing into the bark once more.

They were Elves, and this was their forest - and the races of Telania learned long ago that the Keepers of the Green Tree do not look kindly on violent interlopers.

"Well...," came Ixirthos's panting. breathy voice, tinged with equal parts respect and bemusement. "I think I have...found the Elvessss. They appear, however, to...already know about...the Dread."

Subject: Re: Campaign I: The Sea Rises Mon Feb 27, 2012 12:55 am

Upon hearing the new battle cries Eruno looked up in recognition, letting a cheer. He spun, blade whirling and slicing through the chest of another foe. By now he was getting tired; despite the borrowed power, his own energy was dwindling, and he did need to stay conscious to use it.

He gave up on asking Fluffy- seeing victory as much more possible now, he was certain he didn't require the creature's help. This judgement spelled disaster.

As the focus shifted from the broken band to the elves, Eruno began to act recklessly, not straying far from the Skas'kar leader but not fighting quite so aggressively as before. As he lashed out at one dread, another swung its weapon, a dull thud and splitting pain in the back of his head suggesting that it very well hit him.

From that instant on he was unable to think or focus, toppling forward and dropping his blades. He stared blankly as the dread began to advance- right over him. Then, he began to feel himself slipping away into darkness...

...But seconds before he could, the spirit within stirred and came to life.

A brilliant light shot from the ground the elf fell upon and the dark masses were split in two as a behemoth joined the battle. A creature unusual and terrifying towered over all others, holding a similarly massive polearm.

Its eyes continued to shine even as the rest of the light faded; its tattoos the same as the elf's though it was of much different origin. Dark fur covered the newcomer's body, and it had a long narrow snout much like a dog's. Two sharp ears rose, poking through a ceremonial golden crown and turning to the sides in response to the sounds of battle.

Clad in decorative armor, the spirit swung its weapon with unmatched fury. Like insects, dread were tossed aside and stomped on.

"I am free once more..."