The Siege of Oceansford: Open War for the Mighty
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Galefore
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^I could try one last time to see if there is any way whatsoever for the game to let me zoom out and get one really good screenshot of the map, but it seems I would have to take shots in pieces, and because of the nasty inclusion of a menu (and the sheer blinking size), that's pretty much impossible.
If you guys see a map up later today, it worked. If not, again, Traveler put together a decent map and you can all feel free to continue posting anyway.
If you guys see a map up later today, it worked. If not, again, Traveler put together a decent map and you can all feel free to continue posting anyway.
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Vapor
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1-up Salesman
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Fairlight Excalibur
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Coming...
Sorry. This week has been hectic. I will unload devastation in truly spectacular form, hopefully, over the weekend.
As for the moat:
Johannes, Trevellyan, Zarjav, and Ren all could have easily jumped/swam across unnoticed.
Knight and Dir-Creoh, I am assuming, ran across the drawbridge when it was lowered to let them out of the castle.
Karshetk was airborne, so water is irrelevant.
So far as I have seen, they are the only ones thus far to get in/near the castle. I say the moat stays.
I also say that those of you who are entering the castle acknowledge the thousands of flaming arrows raining destruction upon you.
For the record, I envisioned the castle somewhat like this:
An outer wall -
____ o---O---o
____/_________\
___o___________o
__/_____________\
_O______________O
__\_____________/
___o___________x
____\__________/
_____o----O---o
Inside that outer wall, a castle -
X------------X
I_________I
I_________I
I_________I
I_________I
I_________I
I_________I
X---GATE---X
X = Tower
And, in the center of that castle, a tall keep.
A three layered fortress. Putting all that into one image would be mightily difficult using ASCII, so you will have to use your imagination.
Galefore is free to take this suggestion or invent one of his own; I tried to present one somewhat close to actual historical construction.
Sorry. This week has been hectic. I will unload devastation in truly spectacular form, hopefully, over the weekend.
As for the moat:
Johannes, Trevellyan, Zarjav, and Ren all could have easily jumped/swam across unnoticed.
Knight and Dir-Creoh, I am assuming, ran across the drawbridge when it was lowered to let them out of the castle.
Karshetk was airborne, so water is irrelevant.
So far as I have seen, they are the only ones thus far to get in/near the castle. I say the moat stays.
I also say that those of you who are entering the castle acknowledge the thousands of flaming arrows raining destruction upon you.
For the record, I envisioned the castle somewhat like this:
An outer wall -
____ o---O---o
____/_________\
___o___________o
__/_____________\
_O______________O
__\_____________/
___o___________x
____\__________/
_____o----O---o
Inside that outer wall, a castle -
X------------X
I_________I
I_________I
I_________I
I_________I
I_________I
I_________I
X---GATE---X
X = Tower
And, in the center of that castle, a tall keep.
A three layered fortress. Putting all that into one image would be mightily difficult using ASCII, so you will have to use your imagination.
Galefore is free to take this suggestion or invent one of his own; I tried to present one somewhat close to actual historical construction.
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Galefore
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- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
^You're actually pretty close. The only element it lacked was the second "castle" with the four towers, but in the map I constructed there was plenty of room to place it.
As to the moat, Traveler adequately summed up what I was going to say when I opened this topic this morning. I personally believe we should keep it, if not because it doesn't present any problems that can't be solved by a stretch of the imagination.
If Traveler is preparing to BREAK THE WALLS DOOOOOOWN (sry old pro wrestling fan couldnt resist) then you'll soon hear from a very pissed off Lord Stone. The fun is just getting started, kiddies. Let's break some gaddamn spines.
As to the moat, Traveler adequately summed up what I was going to say when I opened this topic this morning. I personally believe we should keep it, if not because it doesn't present any problems that can't be solved by a stretch of the imagination.
If Traveler is preparing to BREAK THE WALLS DOOOOOOWN (sry old pro wrestling fan couldnt resist) then you'll soon hear from a very pissed off Lord Stone. The fun is just getting started, kiddies. Let's break some gaddamn spines.
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Vapor
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VEN'S A ZOMBIE RACIST :O
OOC: While we're waiting, I'll just post a CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT INTERLUDE I've been sitting on for a little bit.
_____________________________
Ven was almost back to his normal state now. He could see clearly and move himself back without hurting. The first thing he saw as he looked up again, however, was a brick fly past his face and narrowly miss Johannes; and then a vicious roar. Ven just stared ahead for a moment, nonplussed. He then blinked and looked to the north to see an army of undead in combat with a huge assaulting red dragon. This gave him some very mixed feelings.
First, Ven was cool with dragons. Because dragons are cool.
Second, Ven detested the living dead. ABSOLUTE HATRED. This reminded him of some bad memories...
......................
"GHAAHHAHHAA!!!" the mad scientist cackled. "MY MINIONS! YOU WILL BE MY PATH TO GLORY, MY TOOLS FOR CONQUEST! MY PATH TO THE THRONE! I WILL BECOME ONE WITH THE GODS, I WILL HAVE ALL THE WORLD UNDER MY WHIM blahblah blahh...."
Vengeance of the Fields was bored and irritated as he sat in the front row of the "auditorium". It was really just a barn with a bunch of unstable wooden benches and his master and creator, the mad scientist with the last name of Rain, ranting up in the hayloft. The rest of Rain's hodgepodge army was in the rows behind him - they were all going along with it, some of them cheering. Every last one was an abomination, beings rigged from whatever convenient materials could be found - there was a "soldier" with a department store clothing mannequin wearing a dirty uniform and helmet from a local high school football team and a trunk and legs made of some mechanical arms from a machine in a factory that attached parts to cars. There was another "soldier" that a huge, hulking amalgamation of car parts with a rag doll for a head. There were other such hodgepodge golems and homunculi, but the things there that Vengeance of the Fields hated the most were the undead - Rain had worked some combination of alchemy and necromancy on them in order to create extremely powerful zombie beasts with extra limbs and hands in all the wrong places and oversized and undersized body parts everywhere. They disgusted Vengeance - at least as a scarecrow with a pumpkin for a head, he was an abomination that made sense.
"Yes, I shall become LORD of this land, and I will give you our FALLEN ENEMIES TO FEAST ON -" wait, what? Vengeance didn't hunger for human flesh, and was pretty sure that the others here didn't either. " - And I will let you adorn yourselves with the FINEST of clothing and jewels from the spoils of my ROTTEN ADVERSARIES!" Ok, this was just stupid. Vengeance of the Fields didn't care about that, the other homunculi didn't either, and the undead beasts were probably too retarded. This had to end.
"OK, you - " Vengeance said to Rain as he leapt out of his seat and grabbed Rain by the collar of his unwashed in 2 months turtleneck sweater. "Just shut up, honestly. You're yelling all this prattle about domination to your 'minions' you made out of whatever you can steal, making promises they don't care about, and what will you do with your 'dominion'? Just sit around on a huge throne getting fat and bloated as you CONTINUE to do nothing constructive with your life and CONTINUE to have no friends and CONTINUE to do all these retarded, nonsensical 'scientific' creations that should not be? Hell, just look at us! Why did you -" "GUARDS!" Rain interrupted, and several of the zombies charged through the benches and wrestled Vengeance to the ground.
Rain walked over and spoke softly and solemnly. "Vengeance of the Fields, you are jeopardizing the mission. I shouldn't have to explain myself to my minions - you are nothing more than my SLAVES OF WAR. Now I can't have you as my servant anymore. I'm sorry, but I need to revoke your life." Rain began chanting as the zombies shoved their deformed faces at Vengeance, drooling and cackling.
Vengeance hated everything here. He hated Rain, he hated his so-called Comrades, he hated these zombies pinning him down. He could almost feel the life-taking spell beginning to work, but.. he couldn't let it.. no, no, RAGE RAGE RAGE!...
Vengeance blinked, and when he opened his eyes, everything was burning and the army of abominations was scattered across the fields the barn stood in the middle of, and Rain was running around in a panic with them. Apparently, he had gone into a miniature dutch fugue in between when he closed his eyes and when he opened them.
"**** Yesss" Vengeance whispered, pumping his fist. "SEEYA LATER, ****ERS, YOU CAN GO STAY IN THE BASEMENT WITH THIS LITTLE RETARDED TURD OF A MASTER. HOPE YOU DIE ALONE!" Vengeance yelled to his former comrades. Time to desert.
But the zombies... the deformed hulks, enraged, charged at Vengeance, who muttered a curse before running away into the woods. These things were madly angered at their "defeat" and were rushing after him.
For weeks afterward, Vengeance of the Fields would wander throughout the vast forest, evading the zombie beasts, honing his powers, and nurturing his hatred. And he was no longer Vengeance of the Fields. He was simply Ven.
................
...And that's why Ven hated the living dead. And that's why he felt a BURNING URGE to run into that standing army, no matter how many soldiers strong they were, how elite their elite mummies and samurai, no matter if they had a ****ing DRAGON, and personally maim every single one of them until either the fire of his rage or the fire of his soul was extinguished.
He leapt up and screamed. It was as if the terror of his cackle was transformed into pure rage. Without thinking of the possible consequences, Ven started to run straight at the northern army, a greenish-orangeinsh blur at 100 mph. Or, at least he would've if Trevellyan hadn't grabbed him by the time he'd gone about 50 feet, being even speedier than Ven. Given the shortness of the distance nobody had noticed them.
"What are you doing?!" Trevellyan asked in hushed tones as he sped back toward the shadow of the wall with Ven unwillingly in his arms. "Those MOTHER****ING UNDEAD!" he replied. "I HATE THE UNDEAD WITH ALL THE PASSION OF MY HEART." He spat these words right into Trevellyan's face.
Johannes looked at this and pondered. This was Ven. It would be completely unproductive to try to completely restrain him. He was too emotional and powerful to make that a good idea.
"Ven. listen to me," he said. "We need to get this done first. We can slaughter the zombies later. If you go out there and just run around madly you'll get yourself killed, we'll fail, and probably all get killed too. So please just put away your rage, and use it later. We need to get this mission done first." Ven spat back tight-lipped, "Fine. I'll resist myself for a while." Johannes hoped this pledge would be true.
_______________________________
Moar OOC: You should consider this 'non-canon', if you will. This is just a short bit about Ven's emotions and character that'll probably come into play later; don't factor this post into your descriptions of what's going on. Just had this written and wanted to get it out here.
OOC: While we're waiting, I'll just post a CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT INTERLUDE I've been sitting on for a little bit.
_____________________________
Ven was almost back to his normal state now. He could see clearly and move himself back without hurting. The first thing he saw as he looked up again, however, was a brick fly past his face and narrowly miss Johannes; and then a vicious roar. Ven just stared ahead for a moment, nonplussed. He then blinked and looked to the north to see an army of undead in combat with a huge assaulting red dragon. This gave him some very mixed feelings.
First, Ven was cool with dragons. Because dragons are cool.
Second, Ven detested the living dead. ABSOLUTE HATRED. This reminded him of some bad memories...
......................
"GHAAHHAHHAA!!!" the mad scientist cackled. "MY MINIONS! YOU WILL BE MY PATH TO GLORY, MY TOOLS FOR CONQUEST! MY PATH TO THE THRONE! I WILL BECOME ONE WITH THE GODS, I WILL HAVE ALL THE WORLD UNDER MY WHIM blahblah blahh...."
Vengeance of the Fields was bored and irritated as he sat in the front row of the "auditorium". It was really just a barn with a bunch of unstable wooden benches and his master and creator, the mad scientist with the last name of Rain, ranting up in the hayloft. The rest of Rain's hodgepodge army was in the rows behind him - they were all going along with it, some of them cheering. Every last one was an abomination, beings rigged from whatever convenient materials could be found - there was a "soldier" with a department store clothing mannequin wearing a dirty uniform and helmet from a local high school football team and a trunk and legs made of some mechanical arms from a machine in a factory that attached parts to cars. There was another "soldier" that a huge, hulking amalgamation of car parts with a rag doll for a head. There were other such hodgepodge golems and homunculi, but the things there that Vengeance of the Fields hated the most were the undead - Rain had worked some combination of alchemy and necromancy on them in order to create extremely powerful zombie beasts with extra limbs and hands in all the wrong places and oversized and undersized body parts everywhere. They disgusted Vengeance - at least as a scarecrow with a pumpkin for a head, he was an abomination that made sense.
"Yes, I shall become LORD of this land, and I will give you our FALLEN ENEMIES TO FEAST ON -" wait, what? Vengeance didn't hunger for human flesh, and was pretty sure that the others here didn't either. " - And I will let you adorn yourselves with the FINEST of clothing and jewels from the spoils of my ROTTEN ADVERSARIES!" Ok, this was just stupid. Vengeance of the Fields didn't care about that, the other homunculi didn't either, and the undead beasts were probably too retarded. This had to end.
"OK, you - " Vengeance said to Rain as he leapt out of his seat and grabbed Rain by the collar of his unwashed in 2 months turtleneck sweater. "Just shut up, honestly. You're yelling all this prattle about domination to your 'minions' you made out of whatever you can steal, making promises they don't care about, and what will you do with your 'dominion'? Just sit around on a huge throne getting fat and bloated as you CONTINUE to do nothing constructive with your life and CONTINUE to have no friends and CONTINUE to do all these retarded, nonsensical 'scientific' creations that should not be? Hell, just look at us! Why did you -" "GUARDS!" Rain interrupted, and several of the zombies charged through the benches and wrestled Vengeance to the ground.
Rain walked over and spoke softly and solemnly. "Vengeance of the Fields, you are jeopardizing the mission. I shouldn't have to explain myself to my minions - you are nothing more than my SLAVES OF WAR. Now I can't have you as my servant anymore. I'm sorry, but I need to revoke your life." Rain began chanting as the zombies shoved their deformed faces at Vengeance, drooling and cackling.
Vengeance hated everything here. He hated Rain, he hated his so-called Comrades, he hated these zombies pinning him down. He could almost feel the life-taking spell beginning to work, but.. he couldn't let it.. no, no, RAGE RAGE RAGE!...
Vengeance blinked, and when he opened his eyes, everything was burning and the army of abominations was scattered across the fields the barn stood in the middle of, and Rain was running around in a panic with them. Apparently, he had gone into a miniature dutch fugue in between when he closed his eyes and when he opened them.
"**** Yesss" Vengeance whispered, pumping his fist. "SEEYA LATER, ****ERS, YOU CAN GO STAY IN THE BASEMENT WITH THIS LITTLE RETARDED TURD OF A MASTER. HOPE YOU DIE ALONE!" Vengeance yelled to his former comrades. Time to desert.
But the zombies... the deformed hulks, enraged, charged at Vengeance, who muttered a curse before running away into the woods. These things were madly angered at their "defeat" and were rushing after him.
For weeks afterward, Vengeance of the Fields would wander throughout the vast forest, evading the zombie beasts, honing his powers, and nurturing his hatred. And he was no longer Vengeance of the Fields. He was simply Ven.
................
...And that's why Ven hated the living dead. And that's why he felt a BURNING URGE to run into that standing army, no matter how many soldiers strong they were, how elite their elite mummies and samurai, no matter if they had a ****ing DRAGON, and personally maim every single one of them until either the fire of his rage or the fire of his soul was extinguished.
He leapt up and screamed. It was as if the terror of his cackle was transformed into pure rage. Without thinking of the possible consequences, Ven started to run straight at the northern army, a greenish-orangeinsh blur at 100 mph. Or, at least he would've if Trevellyan hadn't grabbed him by the time he'd gone about 50 feet, being even speedier than Ven. Given the shortness of the distance nobody had noticed them.
"What are you doing?!" Trevellyan asked in hushed tones as he sped back toward the shadow of the wall with Ven unwillingly in his arms. "Those MOTHER****ING UNDEAD!" he replied. "I HATE THE UNDEAD WITH ALL THE PASSION OF MY HEART." He spat these words right into Trevellyan's face.
Johannes looked at this and pondered. This was Ven. It would be completely unproductive to try to completely restrain him. He was too emotional and powerful to make that a good idea.
"Ven. listen to me," he said. "We need to get this done first. We can slaughter the zombies later. If you go out there and just run around madly you'll get yourself killed, we'll fail, and probably all get killed too. So please just put away your rage, and use it later. We need to get this mission done first." Ven spat back tight-lipped, "Fine. I'll resist myself for a while." Johannes hoped this pledge would be true.
_______________________________
Moar OOC: You should consider this 'non-canon', if you will. This is just a short bit about Ven's emotions and character that'll probably come into play later; don't factor this post into your descriptions of what's going on. Just had this written and wanted to get it out here.
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1-up Salesman
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OOC: Well, I guess I might as well keep the characters going until something happens./
Vondun laughed as he ran through the crowds of defensive soldiers. Many screamed at the sight of him. Vondun fired his pistols as he ran, smoke flying from their barrels. "Hahahaha!!!" he shrieked. He came to a stop as he felt as if he was looking in a mirror.
There, in front of Vondun, was a scarecrow. That was laughing maniacally and shouting profanities. And was killing alot of people. The only difference was that this scarecrow had a pumpkin for a head.
"And just who the $$*! are you?" Vondun stood, his eyes burning in disgust.
"I could say the same, YOU FREAKING PILE OF $$!!, WHAT THE **** ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO BE, YOU FRAKKING COPY****?! What happened to you, did your mother-" the straw being's words were blocked out of the near peoples' minds in suprise.
"I'm supposed to be unique, dunce! One-of-a-kind! Go home to mommy, pumpkinhead!"
"Ya know what?! GO $$@@ OFF, YOU UNORIGINAL PIECE OF CRAP!"
_________________________
Vondun laughed as he ran through the crowds of defensive soldiers. Many screamed at the sight of him. Vondun fired his pistols as he ran, smoke flying from their barrels. "Hahahaha!!!" he shrieked. He came to a stop as he felt as if he was looking in a mirror.
There, in front of Vondun, was a scarecrow. That was laughing maniacally and shouting profanities. And was killing alot of people. The only difference was that this scarecrow had a pumpkin for a head.
"And just who the $$*! are you?" Vondun stood, his eyes burning in disgust.
"I could say the same, YOU FREAKING PILE OF $$!!, WHAT THE **** ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO BE, YOU FRAKKING COPY****?! What happened to you, did your mother-" the straw being's words were blocked out of the near peoples' minds in suprise.
"I'm supposed to be unique, dunce! One-of-a-kind! Go home to mommy, pumpkinhead!"
"Ya know what?! GO $$@@ OFF, YOU UNORIGINAL PIECE OF CRAP!"
_________________________
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Vapor
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Galefore
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- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
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1-up Salesman
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Galefore
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- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
I'm still not certain about my internet (it's been coming and going for the last few days), but I'm going to try to revive this. If Traveler is going to be a little while longer with his post, we need some sort of something to happen. I'll likely send one of my "major" forces and its commander to the outsides of the wall, then.
Expect a post of that nature as soon as time permits.
Expect a post of that nature as soon as time permits.
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Fairlight Excalibur
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Tumbling Down
OoC: My apologies for the delay; college is back in session and I now have much less time to dedicate to this. As promised, a wall-smashing.
“Push them back!!” Rafael thundered from atop the now-immobile Deathstroke. He was actively resisting the urge to jump down and join the fray, knowing full well that he would be attacked the moment his feet hit the ground. Besides, melee combat with medieval weapons would put him at a severe disadvantage; he would much rather have a sniper rifle.
The beast riders had been running amok for quite some time now, and Rafael's unit had suffered as much damage as they could handle. If they lost many more soldiers, they would not have the forces they needed to take the tower when this maneuver was complete. This rampage needed to stop. Now.
Thankfully, his field officers had devised some new strategies to counter the beast horde. Pikemen, arranged in an circle with their weapons aimed outwards, protected the ranks while archers inside the circle fired off volley after volley at the orcish fiends. The remaining soldiers, mostly mounted knights and swordsmen on foot, stayed inside the protective barrier, only engaging those who were dumb enough to charge the encampments.
The entire force had grouped into several dozen of these small pockets of men, separating the army into individual squads. They were scattered, yes, but still somewhat organized. Each circle moved as one, staying together and fending off the animal-mounted archers. The beast riders were also scattered, however, and volley firing is not the most effective strategy against this type of enemy. Eventually, the volley fire subsided into individual shots, with the archers each picking a target and aiming to take one out at a time.
This strategy worked, to a certain extent, and prevented the beast riders from tearing Desertvale's army into shreds any more. The problem now was the giant armored horses that Knight commanded, which plowed through the circular defense rings and scattered the men. Once the defenses were down, the kobold groups came in right behind the horsemen and wreaked havoc on the disarrayed soldiers.
Despite the efforts of both sides, the battle was slowing to a standstill. The beastmen could not approach the defensive rings due to the humans' superior range, but the humans could not move fast enough to catch the little buggers. Furthermore, the rampaging horsemen seemed unstoppable, but if this pattern continued, there would be no more horsemen after a few more charges. Each time the cavalry crashed into a defense ring, the men inside picked off several riders as they passed through. There would soon be no horsemen left.
Rikon Bladestorm stood motionless at the farthest northern point of the conflict, watching with amusement as Rafael and Velmuth tried to fend off the beast warriors. The entire Black Tiger Brigade was now resting, having defeated the small force that attacked them and now with no orders. They had not come within arrow range of the castle, and Rikon was not about to abandon his post as Targus had done. He turned slightly to face the footsteps approaching him.
“Lord Rikon,” a lieutenant spoke, “there is something you should see.”
The officer pointed even farther north, directly away from the main conflict, where Herr Drachenstein engaged the undeads. Rikon had noticed the new army approaching, but in the distance he could not discern what colors they wore, nor could he discern their current posthumous state. All the Black Tigers who watched the skirmish had been surprised to see the dragon fall, but seeing that occur had not prepared them for what came next.
“What... what in heaven's name... what is this?!” a nearby sentry yelled, “They're not human or beasts! Look! We are under siege... from Hell itself!”
Rikon stared at the approaching undeads with uneasiness. They were still far enough away that Rikon could see neither their skeletal forms nor their rotting flesh, but their slow, lumbering movements gave them away even at this distance. Their clumsy, strained motions were characteristic of the ghouls that legend told of in this land; the smell of rotting skin, death, and maggots stained the wind of this now bloodsoaked field. A cloud of vultures and other birds of prey followed the zombie swarm, intent on picking at the fresh bodies of the recently slain. The foul odor of disease and decay billowed like a cloud, rolling over the sweetly scented flowers and engulfing them in the corrosive aroma of the marching plague.
The panicked cries of the Black Tigers soon filled the air.
“Sound the retreat, Lord Rikon! We cannot stand against an army such as this!”
Rikon's answer was immediate and unquestionable.
“Yes. We. Can.”
Only the aura of fearlessness that exuded from their commander kept the Black Tigers from retreating. But even as the panic and chaos surrounded him, Rikon stood perfectly calm and still... waiting...
The sun stood high over the plains of Oceansford, shining out over the endless rolling plains and glinting off the sweaty skin of the warriors gathered below. As the fiery orb finally reached the height of its arc, one man took notice.
“IT'S TIME!! SOUND THE ATTACK!!” hollered Uprain, and his bugler did exactly that. From his current location, Uprain could not see the approaching undeads, though it is likely that he would not alter his plan even if he did see them. As the brass melody of the bugle filled the air, Uprain's unit began advancing on the castle, ready to unleash that which had thus far been restrained. They marched at a rapid pace, nearly sprinting across the field with the sun trailing directly behind them.
The sounds of the attack call blared across the battlefield, signaling the beginning of what would be the bloodiest element of this confrontation. As Rikon heard the musical orders, he turned to his men and issued their orders.
“Northward, march! Make way for Uprain's unit to pass through!” he directed as he mounted his horse. His orders were met with immediate resistance.
“North?!” TOWARD the fiends?! Are you mad?! Let us march south instead!!”
Seeing that the fear of the undead horde had gripped his men, Rikon knew that he would have to dispel this fear before this battle could go any further. He dug his heels into his horse, and cantered to the north.
“FORM RANKS! NOW!!” he bellowed, not bothering with a buugler. The Black Tiger Brigade was small enough that his voice carried to every man. The panic stricken men quickly fell in line, though they looked as though they would scatter at a moment's notice. Rikon rode to the forefront, and now trotted along the front line, stopping as he spoke, staring directly into the eyes of each man as he passed them.
“Today, you face an enemy like no other,” he started, “inside this castle lurks the most barbaric warlord that this land has ever known! He is cunning, relentless, fearless, and powerful! He commands a mighty host, against whom none have ever known victory! He hides inside these great walls, daring us to oppose him!”
Rikon turned as he reached the end of the ranks, now riding back towards the west. As he changed direction, he stretched out his arm in the direction of the advancing ghouls.
“And out here on the open plains, you see the approaching army of hell, the undead plague that threatens not just the Black Tigers, but all of mankind! If we retreat now, we will be only the first of many! As men cower and run, these fiends will overtake us and devour our lands, our houses, our families, and our lives! Retreat is not an option! The shadow death approaches, and the undead army is coming!”
Rikon's horse came to a stop in the middle of the Black Tiger's ranks.
“Let them come. The Black Tigers will destroy them like any other enemy! The ghouls are not invincible! They are weak, cowardly, and pathetic foes who rely on the fear and cowardice of mankind to give them victory! As you huddle around and speak of defeat, you seal your own fates! Only by standing now with me can we ever hope to drive them back! Do not give them your strength! Stand and fight, my brothers! There may come a day when the courage of men fails... but it is not THIS day! The gale that now sweeps from the north will bring with it the clash of resounding arms! I know not what course others may take... but as for me....
GIVE ME VICTORY...
OR GIVE ME DEATH!!!”
OoC: My apologies for the delay; college is back in session and I now have much less time to dedicate to this. As promised, a wall-smashing.
“Push them back!!” Rafael thundered from atop the now-immobile Deathstroke. He was actively resisting the urge to jump down and join the fray, knowing full well that he would be attacked the moment his feet hit the ground. Besides, melee combat with medieval weapons would put him at a severe disadvantage; he would much rather have a sniper rifle.
The beast riders had been running amok for quite some time now, and Rafael's unit had suffered as much damage as they could handle. If they lost many more soldiers, they would not have the forces they needed to take the tower when this maneuver was complete. This rampage needed to stop. Now.
Thankfully, his field officers had devised some new strategies to counter the beast horde. Pikemen, arranged in an circle with their weapons aimed outwards, protected the ranks while archers inside the circle fired off volley after volley at the orcish fiends. The remaining soldiers, mostly mounted knights and swordsmen on foot, stayed inside the protective barrier, only engaging those who were dumb enough to charge the encampments.
The entire force had grouped into several dozen of these small pockets of men, separating the army into individual squads. They were scattered, yes, but still somewhat organized. Each circle moved as one, staying together and fending off the animal-mounted archers. The beast riders were also scattered, however, and volley firing is not the most effective strategy against this type of enemy. Eventually, the volley fire subsided into individual shots, with the archers each picking a target and aiming to take one out at a time.
This strategy worked, to a certain extent, and prevented the beast riders from tearing Desertvale's army into shreds any more. The problem now was the giant armored horses that Knight commanded, which plowed through the circular defense rings and scattered the men. Once the defenses were down, the kobold groups came in right behind the horsemen and wreaked havoc on the disarrayed soldiers.
Despite the efforts of both sides, the battle was slowing to a standstill. The beastmen could not approach the defensive rings due to the humans' superior range, but the humans could not move fast enough to catch the little buggers. Furthermore, the rampaging horsemen seemed unstoppable, but if this pattern continued, there would be no more horsemen after a few more charges. Each time the cavalry crashed into a defense ring, the men inside picked off several riders as they passed through. There would soon be no horsemen left.
Rikon Bladestorm stood motionless at the farthest northern point of the conflict, watching with amusement as Rafael and Velmuth tried to fend off the beast warriors. The entire Black Tiger Brigade was now resting, having defeated the small force that attacked them and now with no orders. They had not come within arrow range of the castle, and Rikon was not about to abandon his post as Targus had done. He turned slightly to face the footsteps approaching him.
“Lord Rikon,” a lieutenant spoke, “there is something you should see.”
The officer pointed even farther north, directly away from the main conflict, where Herr Drachenstein engaged the undeads. Rikon had noticed the new army approaching, but in the distance he could not discern what colors they wore, nor could he discern their current posthumous state. All the Black Tigers who watched the skirmish had been surprised to see the dragon fall, but seeing that occur had not prepared them for what came next.
“What... what in heaven's name... what is this?!” a nearby sentry yelled, “They're not human or beasts! Look! We are under siege... from Hell itself!”
Rikon stared at the approaching undeads with uneasiness. They were still far enough away that Rikon could see neither their skeletal forms nor their rotting flesh, but their slow, lumbering movements gave them away even at this distance. Their clumsy, strained motions were characteristic of the ghouls that legend told of in this land; the smell of rotting skin, death, and maggots stained the wind of this now bloodsoaked field. A cloud of vultures and other birds of prey followed the zombie swarm, intent on picking at the fresh bodies of the recently slain. The foul odor of disease and decay billowed like a cloud, rolling over the sweetly scented flowers and engulfing them in the corrosive aroma of the marching plague.
The panicked cries of the Black Tigers soon filled the air.
“Sound the retreat, Lord Rikon! We cannot stand against an army such as this!”
Rikon's answer was immediate and unquestionable.
“Yes. We. Can.”
Only the aura of fearlessness that exuded from their commander kept the Black Tigers from retreating. But even as the panic and chaos surrounded him, Rikon stood perfectly calm and still... waiting...
The sun stood high over the plains of Oceansford, shining out over the endless rolling plains and glinting off the sweaty skin of the warriors gathered below. As the fiery orb finally reached the height of its arc, one man took notice.
“IT'S TIME!! SOUND THE ATTACK!!” hollered Uprain, and his bugler did exactly that. From his current location, Uprain could not see the approaching undeads, though it is likely that he would not alter his plan even if he did see them. As the brass melody of the bugle filled the air, Uprain's unit began advancing on the castle, ready to unleash that which had thus far been restrained. They marched at a rapid pace, nearly sprinting across the field with the sun trailing directly behind them.
The sounds of the attack call blared across the battlefield, signaling the beginning of what would be the bloodiest element of this confrontation. As Rikon heard the musical orders, he turned to his men and issued their orders.
“Northward, march! Make way for Uprain's unit to pass through!” he directed as he mounted his horse. His orders were met with immediate resistance.
“North?!” TOWARD the fiends?! Are you mad?! Let us march south instead!!”
Seeing that the fear of the undead horde had gripped his men, Rikon knew that he would have to dispel this fear before this battle could go any further. He dug his heels into his horse, and cantered to the north.
“FORM RANKS! NOW!!” he bellowed, not bothering with a buugler. The Black Tiger Brigade was small enough that his voice carried to every man. The panic stricken men quickly fell in line, though they looked as though they would scatter at a moment's notice. Rikon rode to the forefront, and now trotted along the front line, stopping as he spoke, staring directly into the eyes of each man as he passed them.
“Today, you face an enemy like no other,” he started, “inside this castle lurks the most barbaric warlord that this land has ever known! He is cunning, relentless, fearless, and powerful! He commands a mighty host, against whom none have ever known victory! He hides inside these great walls, daring us to oppose him!”
Rikon turned as he reached the end of the ranks, now riding back towards the west. As he changed direction, he stretched out his arm in the direction of the advancing ghouls.
“And out here on the open plains, you see the approaching army of hell, the undead plague that threatens not just the Black Tigers, but all of mankind! If we retreat now, we will be only the first of many! As men cower and run, these fiends will overtake us and devour our lands, our houses, our families, and our lives! Retreat is not an option! The shadow death approaches, and the undead army is coming!”
Rikon's horse came to a stop in the middle of the Black Tiger's ranks.
“Let them come. The Black Tigers will destroy them like any other enemy! The ghouls are not invincible! They are weak, cowardly, and pathetic foes who rely on the fear and cowardice of mankind to give them victory! As you huddle around and speak of defeat, you seal your own fates! Only by standing now with me can we ever hope to drive them back! Do not give them your strength! Stand and fight, my brothers! There may come a day when the courage of men fails... but it is not THIS day! The gale that now sweeps from the north will bring with it the clash of resounding arms! I know not what course others may take... but as for me....
GIVE ME VICTORY...
OR GIVE ME DEATH!!!”
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Fairlight Excalibur
- Member
- Posts: 879
- Joined: Sat Nov 28, 2009 6:20 am
- Location: LA
KABOOOOOM
The sentries looking out from Oceansford's southeastern towers watched as the Black Tigers began charging to the North, heading in the direction if imminent doom. It would be less than three minutes until they crashed headlong in to frontmost ranks of the clambering zombies and into their own doom. The men of Oceansford Castle were pleased with the direction this battle was heading. The undeads and Desertvale's soldiers would soon destroy each other, leaving Stone Ashenlake's forces left to clean up the mess.
The sentries finally opened fire as one small force Desertvale's soldier drew near enough to the castle that bows could finally be used. Volley after volley of flaming arrows rained from the walls as Uprain's unit closed on the castle, chraging through the opening made by Rikon's departure. The flaming rain cut through the advancing army, but they pressed on, blindly charging at the castle as their siege weapons unloaded boulders and bodies into the castle. The carnage was intense; the bodycount skyrocketed now that men were close enough to engage the castle proper.
The charge continued until Uprain's men reached the soggy embankment of Oceansford's moat. The murky waters shuddered as the wind blew over, leaving no indication of what terrors might be concealed under the dark waters. Alligators? Piranhas? Worse? There was no way to know. Uprain's men stopped short, hiding under iron shields from the rain of arrows that descended upon them, but no shields could fully protect them from the destructive rain that fell upon them.
It was then that Uprain's plan was discovered. One of the sentries on the wall finally caught a glimpse of something in the air right in front of him.
“What is this?!” the towere guards cried, as they realized that a titanic, invisible force was upon them.
In front of the castle, nearing the edge of the moat, was a towering wall. A massive, thirteen story iron wall, teetering far above the field of battle and extending even higher than the walls of Oceansford Castle. The great iron construct was right in front of them, but had gone unnoticed. The light blue paint that covered the shell of the iron wall was an exact match for the faded blue glory of the skies overlooking Oceansford, and the wall blended in so perfectly as to be nearly invisible.
The wall was propelled by a massive wheeled platform at its base, powered by steam just like the Deathstroke. Numerous beams anchored the wall to the platform, and no less than eighty men rode atop the platform, holding the wall in place by means of numerous ropes tied to its highest point. The beams kept the wall from falling backwards, while the ropemen prevented it from collapsing forward.
Three factors made this wall invisible.
First of all, the wall cast little or no shadow to give it away. With the sun directly overhead, the shadow was very small, directly underneath the giant contraption. A looming shadow cast forward for hundreds of feet would have given away the massive wall, and thus the timing had to coincide perfectly with the sun's path.
Secondly, the sun itself shined out over the wall, blinding the eyes of Oceansford's soldiers and making it impossible for them to stare directly at the wall. With the sun glinting off the iron, and the skies themselves filling the countryside with light, looking in the direction of the wall was incredibly painful. It appeared to simply be a mirage of reflected light, a shimmering force of nature that was simply a production of an unusually bright day.
Thirdly, and most importantly, was the Deathstroke. The giant siege engine was intended as a distraction, luring the defending armies to attack it while Uprain's device slid by unnoticed. The archers on the walls of Oceansford were busy observing the conflict unfolding before them as Dir-Creoh and Knight charged the enemy command vessel, and the spectacle of bloodshed unfolding before them so thoroughly engrossed their attention that few men even looked away from the battle. Instead, they held their bows at the ready, flaming arrows in hand, waiting for some fool to venture too close to the castle.
But now it was too late. Uprain's plan was a success as the giant wheels at the base of the wall came to a stop right at the edge of Oceansford's moat. The forward momentum caused the wall to teeter forward, and the men that held the ropes could no longer restrain the ocean of iron as it pulled forward. Gravity took over, and the iron platform fell onto the castle.
“SCATTER!!” someone yelled from the castle, and the archers that manned the walls took off in every direction, sprinting to avoid being crushed as the titanic platform came crashing down. Iron and stone exploded in every direction, raining destruction on the men underneath. The entire castle quaked as the iron wall lodged itself on top of the wall near the southeastern tower, digging its way into the stone. The walls of Oceansford Castle were far too strong to collapse, and held the iron wall upright.
The collapsing wall was also the signal for Rikon's men to return, and they broke off their charge before reaching the hellish ranks of the ghoul onslaught. They chraged full speed towards the castle as well.
Now, the bloodshed began. Behind the titanic wall was concealed the vast majority of Uprain's troops, a massive, sprawling army that stretched for hundred of feet beyond the wall. Thousands and thousands of men, bow already in hand, were waiting as the thirteen story wheelchair ramp did its work. And then... they charged.
The men that had been holding the ropes never released those ropes, instead allowing the falling wall to pull them forward, giving them a head start up the ramp. They were more than halfway up the giant ramp by the time the scattering soldiers on the wall had recovered from the impact, and the rest of the army surged up the ramp in one fell swoop. The ramp, being taller than Oceansford's walls, allowed the eighty swordsmen to literally drop in on the defenders, engaging them in melee combat as the archers dropped their bows in favor of swords.
The skirmish on the wall began to attract the attention of the southern and eastern towers, and men began flooding out from the towers to stem the tide of the invading men, but Uprain's men now had the height advantage. The hundreds and hundreds of men that were now on top of the wall rained arrows down[i/] into Oceansford castle, forcing the defenders to remain inside the towers. Getting anywhere near the battalion of archers meant instant death.
The Black Tiger Brigade, having reached the base of the ramp, dismounted their horses and began charging up the wall as well, but rather than staying on top of the wall with the archers, they dropped down from the wall and charged the southeastern minor tower, the official target of this invasion.
Within minutes, the southeastern minor tower was under Desertvale's control. The Black Tigers led the charge into the tower, slicing and skewering as they went. Multiple squads of Oceansford's soldiers were summoned to push them back, but sheer numbers and Rikon's overwhelmingly powerful mercenaries butchered the resistance they encountered; the strategy that Uprain had employed was ingenius, and Ashenlake's forces could not respond fast enough to deal with this 'death from above' strategy. With Desertvale's men constantly pouring in from above, there was little that Stone's men could do other than charge the tower... only to be cut down by the storm of arrows that Uprain's archers unleashed.
But the worst was yet to come. While Uprain and Rikon controlled the tower and the wall, the ground floor was another story. The bulk of Stone's men still ruled the ground level, though they had to hide behind cover to avoid the archers above. The defensive wall had been turned against them, leaving the men on foot to scramble for cover. Still, there was no question that any soldiers on the ground level would be massacred by Ashenlake's superior forces.
A resounding KABOOOOM signaled the demolition of the southeastern drawbridge. The explosive charges that had been placed near the top of the gate detonate, blasting the drawbridge and gate right off their hinges. As the mammoth door fell down, Velmuth, Rafael, Harlock, and Targus took their cue. The ground forces of Desertvale stormed through the lowered gate, a rampaging stampede of hooves, men, and iron stampeding into the castle's interior.
The main force of Stone Ashenlake's soldiers was waiting for them, and now the truly bloody contest began. The two armies collided in the center of the courtyard and the blood flowed like a river. The southeastern tower had become Desertvale's command center, with Rikon and Uprain observing the battle from above, also joined by the Triad, who had abandoned the motionless Deathstroke.
“Uprain!” Rikon called through the chaos, “why did you destroy the gate?! How will we keep the fiends at bay?! We must secure the perimeter before they arrive!”
Unfortunately, Uprain's order had been issued before he was aware of the approaching ghouls. Realizing this error, Uprain also instructed that the demolition team plant gunpowder on the great iron wall; zombies pouring in from above would be too much to handle. The massive wall was blown loose from the castle, collapsing to the ground outside the walls, and preventing anymore access directly to the walls.
For the time being, Desertvale had the advantage. With a huge force of archers providing cover from above while their ground troops marauded below, they momentarily were in control. However, Desertvale's forces could not venture far from the southeastern tower; they needed the archer cover to give them the edge. Furthermore, with the gate destroyed, the undeads would have soon have free access to the inner courtyard. And above all else, once Ashenlake directed more of his encamped soldiers to storm the southeastern area, the battle would become decidedly more bloody. Unless Desertvale and Oceansford suddenly called a truce and fortified the compound, the zombies would soon overtake them both.
That was not going to happen.
All hell was about to literally break loose....
OoC: To clarify:
Rikon's unit did NOT engage the undeads; they turned around at the last second.
The wall of Oceansford Castle is NOT damaged or destroyed; rather, the drawbridge is blown down.
I apologize for the lower quality of this particular update, but I did not want to keep everyone waiting any longer and kinda rushed it.
The sentries looking out from Oceansford's southeastern towers watched as the Black Tigers began charging to the North, heading in the direction if imminent doom. It would be less than three minutes until they crashed headlong in to frontmost ranks of the clambering zombies and into their own doom. The men of Oceansford Castle were pleased with the direction this battle was heading. The undeads and Desertvale's soldiers would soon destroy each other, leaving Stone Ashenlake's forces left to clean up the mess.
The sentries finally opened fire as one small force Desertvale's soldier drew near enough to the castle that bows could finally be used. Volley after volley of flaming arrows rained from the walls as Uprain's unit closed on the castle, chraging through the opening made by Rikon's departure. The flaming rain cut through the advancing army, but they pressed on, blindly charging at the castle as their siege weapons unloaded boulders and bodies into the castle. The carnage was intense; the bodycount skyrocketed now that men were close enough to engage the castle proper.
The charge continued until Uprain's men reached the soggy embankment of Oceansford's moat. The murky waters shuddered as the wind blew over, leaving no indication of what terrors might be concealed under the dark waters. Alligators? Piranhas? Worse? There was no way to know. Uprain's men stopped short, hiding under iron shields from the rain of arrows that descended upon them, but no shields could fully protect them from the destructive rain that fell upon them.
It was then that Uprain's plan was discovered. One of the sentries on the wall finally caught a glimpse of something in the air right in front of him.
“What is this?!” the towere guards cried, as they realized that a titanic, invisible force was upon them.
In front of the castle, nearing the edge of the moat, was a towering wall. A massive, thirteen story iron wall, teetering far above the field of battle and extending even higher than the walls of Oceansford Castle. The great iron construct was right in front of them, but had gone unnoticed. The light blue paint that covered the shell of the iron wall was an exact match for the faded blue glory of the skies overlooking Oceansford, and the wall blended in so perfectly as to be nearly invisible.
The wall was propelled by a massive wheeled platform at its base, powered by steam just like the Deathstroke. Numerous beams anchored the wall to the platform, and no less than eighty men rode atop the platform, holding the wall in place by means of numerous ropes tied to its highest point. The beams kept the wall from falling backwards, while the ropemen prevented it from collapsing forward.
Three factors made this wall invisible.
First of all, the wall cast little or no shadow to give it away. With the sun directly overhead, the shadow was very small, directly underneath the giant contraption. A looming shadow cast forward for hundreds of feet would have given away the massive wall, and thus the timing had to coincide perfectly with the sun's path.
Secondly, the sun itself shined out over the wall, blinding the eyes of Oceansford's soldiers and making it impossible for them to stare directly at the wall. With the sun glinting off the iron, and the skies themselves filling the countryside with light, looking in the direction of the wall was incredibly painful. It appeared to simply be a mirage of reflected light, a shimmering force of nature that was simply a production of an unusually bright day.
Thirdly, and most importantly, was the Deathstroke. The giant siege engine was intended as a distraction, luring the defending armies to attack it while Uprain's device slid by unnoticed. The archers on the walls of Oceansford were busy observing the conflict unfolding before them as Dir-Creoh and Knight charged the enemy command vessel, and the spectacle of bloodshed unfolding before them so thoroughly engrossed their attention that few men even looked away from the battle. Instead, they held their bows at the ready, flaming arrows in hand, waiting for some fool to venture too close to the castle.
But now it was too late. Uprain's plan was a success as the giant wheels at the base of the wall came to a stop right at the edge of Oceansford's moat. The forward momentum caused the wall to teeter forward, and the men that held the ropes could no longer restrain the ocean of iron as it pulled forward. Gravity took over, and the iron platform fell onto the castle.
“SCATTER!!” someone yelled from the castle, and the archers that manned the walls took off in every direction, sprinting to avoid being crushed as the titanic platform came crashing down. Iron and stone exploded in every direction, raining destruction on the men underneath. The entire castle quaked as the iron wall lodged itself on top of the wall near the southeastern tower, digging its way into the stone. The walls of Oceansford Castle were far too strong to collapse, and held the iron wall upright.
The collapsing wall was also the signal for Rikon's men to return, and they broke off their charge before reaching the hellish ranks of the ghoul onslaught. They chraged full speed towards the castle as well.
Now, the bloodshed began. Behind the titanic wall was concealed the vast majority of Uprain's troops, a massive, sprawling army that stretched for hundred of feet beyond the wall. Thousands and thousands of men, bow already in hand, were waiting as the thirteen story wheelchair ramp did its work. And then... they charged.
The men that had been holding the ropes never released those ropes, instead allowing the falling wall to pull them forward, giving them a head start up the ramp. They were more than halfway up the giant ramp by the time the scattering soldiers on the wall had recovered from the impact, and the rest of the army surged up the ramp in one fell swoop. The ramp, being taller than Oceansford's walls, allowed the eighty swordsmen to literally drop in on the defenders, engaging them in melee combat as the archers dropped their bows in favor of swords.
The skirmish on the wall began to attract the attention of the southern and eastern towers, and men began flooding out from the towers to stem the tide of the invading men, but Uprain's men now had the height advantage. The hundreds and hundreds of men that were now on top of the wall rained arrows down[i/] into Oceansford castle, forcing the defenders to remain inside the towers. Getting anywhere near the battalion of archers meant instant death.
The Black Tiger Brigade, having reached the base of the ramp, dismounted their horses and began charging up the wall as well, but rather than staying on top of the wall with the archers, they dropped down from the wall and charged the southeastern minor tower, the official target of this invasion.
Within minutes, the southeastern minor tower was under Desertvale's control. The Black Tigers led the charge into the tower, slicing and skewering as they went. Multiple squads of Oceansford's soldiers were summoned to push them back, but sheer numbers and Rikon's overwhelmingly powerful mercenaries butchered the resistance they encountered; the strategy that Uprain had employed was ingenius, and Ashenlake's forces could not respond fast enough to deal with this 'death from above' strategy. With Desertvale's men constantly pouring in from above, there was little that Stone's men could do other than charge the tower... only to be cut down by the storm of arrows that Uprain's archers unleashed.
But the worst was yet to come. While Uprain and Rikon controlled the tower and the wall, the ground floor was another story. The bulk of Stone's men still ruled the ground level, though they had to hide behind cover to avoid the archers above. The defensive wall had been turned against them, leaving the men on foot to scramble for cover. Still, there was no question that any soldiers on the ground level would be massacred by Ashenlake's superior forces.
A resounding KABOOOOM signaled the demolition of the southeastern drawbridge. The explosive charges that had been placed near the top of the gate detonate, blasting the drawbridge and gate right off their hinges. As the mammoth door fell down, Velmuth, Rafael, Harlock, and Targus took their cue. The ground forces of Desertvale stormed through the lowered gate, a rampaging stampede of hooves, men, and iron stampeding into the castle's interior.
The main force of Stone Ashenlake's soldiers was waiting for them, and now the truly bloody contest began. The two armies collided in the center of the courtyard and the blood flowed like a river. The southeastern tower had become Desertvale's command center, with Rikon and Uprain observing the battle from above, also joined by the Triad, who had abandoned the motionless Deathstroke.
“Uprain!” Rikon called through the chaos, “why did you destroy the gate?! How will we keep the fiends at bay?! We must secure the perimeter before they arrive!”
Unfortunately, Uprain's order had been issued before he was aware of the approaching ghouls. Realizing this error, Uprain also instructed that the demolition team plant gunpowder on the great iron wall; zombies pouring in from above would be too much to handle. The massive wall was blown loose from the castle, collapsing to the ground outside the walls, and preventing anymore access directly to the walls.
For the time being, Desertvale had the advantage. With a huge force of archers providing cover from above while their ground troops marauded below, they momentarily were in control. However, Desertvale's forces could not venture far from the southeastern tower; they needed the archer cover to give them the edge. Furthermore, with the gate destroyed, the undeads would have soon have free access to the inner courtyard. And above all else, once Ashenlake directed more of his encamped soldiers to storm the southeastern area, the battle would become decidedly more bloody. Unless Desertvale and Oceansford suddenly called a truce and fortified the compound, the zombies would soon overtake them both.
That was not going to happen.
All hell was about to literally break loose....
OoC: To clarify:
Rikon's unit did NOT engage the undeads; they turned around at the last second.
The wall of Oceansford Castle is NOT damaged or destroyed; rather, the drawbridge is blown down.
I apologize for the lower quality of this particular update, but I did not want to keep everyone waiting any longer and kinda rushed it.
-
Zaden
- Member
- Posts: 989
- Joined: Mon Dec 28, 2009 8:23 pm
- Location: in the beak of a mighty condor
invincible undeads?
Jarik: “Blast you, Desertvale… Blast you.”
Jarik watched as Desertvale’s plan was set in motion. From his angle, he couldn’t quite see what exactly was going on with the giant camouflage wall. It seemed to him that Desertvale soldiers were flying up to the top of the walls and raining arrows down into the castle. Imhotep appeared before him.
Imhotep: “[Ancient Egyptian]”
Jarik: “The drawbridge? Where is the drawbridge from here?”
Imhotep: “[Ancient Egyptian]”
Jarik: “It doesn’t help us at all if it’s at the South end! Blast you, Desertvale… Blast you. They were supposed to destroy the Eastern wall. What good were the siege engines if weren’t going to attack with them?”
Neferites II: “You made a mistake, my Lord. You should not have relied on the weak living. Only you, through your absolute power can your goals be accomplished! You have the power, Lord Jarik! There is nothing you cannot do, but you must use your own might.”
Jarik: “I know all of that, Neferites, now stop the flattery. I’ll just have to use more of my mages’ power…”
Soon, the undead army was marching faster.
Oceansford archers: “They're rushing in! Fire! Fire everything!” Flaming arrows filled the sky North of Oceansford. They rained down on the nosferatu, killing a few and spreading fire. The Wights, Foot Soldiers and Mages took heavy damage from the defensive strike, but the stronger Chattur’gha and Giants kept marching at the same speed, ignoring the arrows that stuck into their bodies. A few Chattur’gha were now walking fireballs, which served to even further terrorize the Oceansford soldiers. The arrows bounced right of the Dead Knights’ armor, being totally ineffective. A few Liches were seen slicing arrows out of the air.
A wall of Giants’ Corpses walked forward concealing the Death Mages following close behind them. “NOW!” Jarik yelled to the hidden mages and they began glowing. The sky darkened…
A gigantic meteor flew from space and smashed the outer wall, crushing it from the inside out. The meteor fell at an angle such that the debris fell outward and filled up a section of the moat.
100 Death Mages fell lifeless to the ground, expending all their energy to summon such an Earth-shattering monolith from the heavens.
The rocks settled as Oceansford was recovering from the meteor blow.
Jarik: “There’s your bridge! Slaughter, my nosferatu! [to himself] Now you have to defend against two invasions at once. Divide and conquer.”
The undead horde flowed across the chunks of wall that had clogged up the moat. Oceansford and Jarik’s army engaged. Being the beginning of the battle, the Oceansford soldiers had no experience fighting with the undead. The few soldiers that were smart enough to decapitate the undeads fared well for a moment until they were swarmed and slaughtered. All soldiers unfortunate enough to attempt impaling the nosferatu met with quick deaths, as the walking dead did not rely on vital organs for power. Aside from those factors, it was an even fight between the mighty Oceansford soldiers and the Undead Foot Soldiers.
The Chattur’gha came first, though. They were a huge portion of the muscle in Jarik’s army. They were the ones that would be described as ‘zombies’. They lumbered in, albeit very fast “lumbering”, and seemed to *ignore every attack that didn’t remove their heads or destroy their spinal cords. They grabbed the soldiers and lifted them off their feet, choking them. Others punched soldiers, and every punch that landed proved to be strong enough to floor a man.
“Oceansfooooooooooooooord!”
They did not stop to feast on disabled soldiers. They used their teeth to tear out throats, rip off limbs, and paralyze them by chomping on their nerve cords. One picked up a soldier and gave him a maneuver somewhat akin to a pro-wrestling move. A ‘torture rack’ I believe it’s called. He broke the soldier’s backbone over his shoulder.
The longer the battle raged, the more it became apparent. They were not ‘zombies’. True zombies are mindless, acting on instinct. The Chattur’gha moved with a clear purpose: To kill.
--EDIT: *"ignore" was a poor word choice. I meant that no other attacks hurt(caused pain) or killed them. Of course bashing them in the chest with a mace would do physical damage to them and pushed them back quite a ways, but it would not stop their assault. Although a mace-in-the-chest would slow them down, it would not slow them nearly as much as it would to a normal, living soldier.--
After the Chattur’gha and the Foot Soldiers, the Dead Knights marched in, clanking as they moved.
^add glowing red eyes!
Although very slow, they seemed almost impossible to defeat. One of them was seen falling down dead only after being hit by a ballista bolt, but the others kept walking. The Oceansford soldiers managed to trap some of the knights under heavy objects, pinning them helplessly to the ground, but the others slowly slew the guards. Sometimes an encounter would end when an Oceansford soldier would fight until he was too exhausted to lift his weapon.
Half of Jarik’s army was now inside the outer wall.
Jarik: “Sanakht! Tefnakht! Kanefertemre! Come!”
Three elite mummies turned to Jarik.
Jarik: “Inside the inner wall lie captains and lieutenants. I want them dead. Go now!”
The three mummies bolted towards the inner wall and scurried up it like animals. Kanefertemre grabbed an archer and screamed in his face as his body withered away. He absorbed the flesh and it was added to his muscles. Tefnakht leapt at a soldier and ripped his head off while yelling insults in Egyptian. Sanakht came holding a scimitar and slashed through the soldiers who vainly stabbed at his body. He stretched his hands out into the room full of fallen soldiers and began shaking. He spoke twelve syllables in his native language and the flesh and muscle peeled off the guards and swirled around the room before assimilating into Sanakht. He now appeared as a normal man.
Tefnakht threw the head away and inhaled the decapitated soldiers hands and feet until he grew large claws on his hands. Kanefertemre grabbed a soldier running by and absorbed all the muscle he could directly into his arms. His arms were now massive.
Tefnakht: “[Ancient Egyptian]?”
Sanakht: “[Ancient Egyptian]!”
Sanakht pointed to a doorway and the three Pharaohs walked in.
Galefore/Repster,
Super-Mummy Three-on-One!
------------------------------------------
Cyrus appeared just inside the Southeast wall of Oceansford castle. The sound of siege weapons raged around him. He was in the hallway behind the castle’s ramparts. An Oceansford soldier ran in front of him and pointed a sword at his throat.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?!”
Cyrus was actually delighted to see a normal man, as opposed to the monsters and freaks that had terrorized him before.
“I am Cyrus of Gallionsberg, son of Simon! I mean you no harm! Verily, I would that ye escort me straightway out of this castle, for I do not belong here.”
The Oceansford soldier gave a look of obvious contempt and walked towards him.
“That’s right, you don’t belong here! Now come with me! I’m taking you t—”
SCRUNCH!!
Nothing could have prepared Cyrus for what had just happened. A very large creature had fallen onto the soldier and crushed him to death. In front of him, he beheld a dead heap of crocodile, polar bear, and soldier. Furthermore, the bear and crocodile seemed to be one creature. His whole body trembled, riveted in shock as he tried to regain his composure.
SPLAT
A kobold landed to his left. He stared in horror.
FLOP!
A creature seemingly made of a horse and a wolverine landed between him and the first mess, missing him by inches. He looked upward and saw more hybrid beasts and riders falling from the sky.
He turned back and ran towards another doorway, barely dodging a falling englehot. Inside, he saw what he thought a show business magician should look like.
“Goofball A. McChuckles, here. How may I serve you?” Goofball grinned and his buck teeth jutted out ridiculously. They seemed larger than life to Cyrus who stared mesmerized. He kept staring in a trance as his teeth seemed to be growing larger. Somehow, he found it amazing. So big… They now encompassed his entire view. A left incisor and a right incisor was all he saw. They appeared to be nine feet tall before they slammed shut on him, as if hinged in the middle. After a crunch and a split second of darkness, the head trauma caused Cyrus’ vision to swirl. He distortedly saw Goofball in front of him bending over and slapping his knee, and through the ringing in his ears he could hear Goofball’s uproarious laughter. He felt an aching sensation all over his body and once again, he had a pounding headache. He rubbed his eyes, shook his head, blinked a few times and then looked at Goofball.
“What is this that you have done unto me? and why do you laugh me to scorn?”
“You have fallen for a practical joke, my good sir, and I’m laughing because of the hilarious nature of it! It was hysterically funny, I tell you!”
Cyrus frowned and put his sword back in his right hand. “Is it sport to you to do mischief and harm to strangers? To play a joke on a friend may bring joy to the heart, but to hurt a stranger is not amusing.”
Cyrus shifted and he felt pain in his right shoulder.
<!>
He looked at the fang marks on his shoulder. The wounds had shrunken slightly and they were dark brown and scabbed over. He was now holding his sword in his right hand with great pain, whereas before, he could not so much as move his right arm without the pain being unbearable. He was sure the Chiropteranthrope had torn his rotator cuff! But now he had control of his right arm, albeit quite painful. He couldn’t understand. To him, not enough time had passed for it to have healed this much…
Goofball stopped and stood up perfectly straight with his arms straight down at his side. He held his cane right in the middle with his right hand.
“What do you mean, ‘not amusing’?”
“You have caused me a great deal of suffering! This is not funny!”
Goofball glared at Cyrus as if his vision would bore a hole through him. His cane clattered to the floor as his hands opened, tensed to a point when his veins may have popped right out. His muscles pulsated and swelled up until his biceps and thighs looked like kegs. He grew two feet taller and his skin turned reddish and more blood vessels bulged. [If you’re picturing a red cartoony Incredible Hulk right now, we probably got it right… but that’s up to VG Addict.]
Goofball clenched his teeth and seethed. Cyrus then realized he had made a mistake.
“Upon further consideration, it may have been slightly amusing…”
The animated monstrosity started towards Cyrus.
“Listen! I’m laughing! HA! Ha ha ha! I get it now! It was funny!"
But it was too late…
[To VG Addict:] Pulverize him. Badly. Just don’t dismember or kill him. He basically just runs; there’s no way his sword could hurt Goofball. I’m looking for something like Cyrus running around, narrowing dodging fatal blows, and trying to get away from him. Chase him a good while, and leave off just as Cyrus escapes. You may then retain control of your character. Many thanks if you oblige!
Jarik: “Blast you, Desertvale… Blast you.”
Imhotep: “[Ancient Egyptian]”
Jarik: “The drawbridge? Where is the drawbridge from here?”
Imhotep: “[Ancient Egyptian]”
Jarik: “It doesn’t help us at all if it’s at the South end! Blast you, Desertvale… Blast you. They were supposed to destroy the Eastern wall. What good were the siege engines if weren’t going to attack with them?”
Neferites II: “You made a mistake, my Lord. You should not have relied on the weak living. Only you, through your absolute power can your goals be accomplished! You have the power, Lord Jarik! There is nothing you cannot do, but you must use your own might.”
Jarik: “I know all of that, Neferites, now stop the flattery. I’ll just have to use more of my mages’ power…”
Soon, the undead army was marching faster.
Oceansford archers: “They're rushing in! Fire! Fire everything!” Flaming arrows filled the sky North of Oceansford. They rained down on the nosferatu, killing a few and spreading fire. The Wights, Foot Soldiers and Mages took heavy damage from the defensive strike, but the stronger Chattur’gha and Giants kept marching at the same speed, ignoring the arrows that stuck into their bodies. A few Chattur’gha were now walking fireballs, which served to even further terrorize the Oceansford soldiers. The arrows bounced right of the Dead Knights’ armor, being totally ineffective. A few Liches were seen slicing arrows out of the air.
A wall of Giants’ Corpses walked forward concealing the Death Mages following close behind them. “NOW!” Jarik yelled to the hidden mages and they began glowing. The sky darkened…
A gigantic meteor flew from space and smashed the outer wall, crushing it from the inside out. The meteor fell at an angle such that the debris fell outward and filled up a section of the moat.
100 Death Mages fell lifeless to the ground, expending all their energy to summon such an Earth-shattering monolith from the heavens.
The rocks settled as Oceansford was recovering from the meteor blow.
Jarik: “There’s your bridge! Slaughter, my nosferatu! [to himself] Now you have to defend against two invasions at once. Divide and conquer.”
The undead horde flowed across the chunks of wall that had clogged up the moat. Oceansford and Jarik’s army engaged. Being the beginning of the battle, the Oceansford soldiers had no experience fighting with the undead. The few soldiers that were smart enough to decapitate the undeads fared well for a moment until they were swarmed and slaughtered. All soldiers unfortunate enough to attempt impaling the nosferatu met with quick deaths, as the walking dead did not rely on vital organs for power. Aside from those factors, it was an even fight between the mighty Oceansford soldiers and the Undead Foot Soldiers.
The Chattur’gha came first, though. They were a huge portion of the muscle in Jarik’s army. They were the ones that would be described as ‘zombies’. They lumbered in, albeit very fast “lumbering”, and seemed to *ignore every attack that didn’t remove their heads or destroy their spinal cords. They grabbed the soldiers and lifted them off their feet, choking them. Others punched soldiers, and every punch that landed proved to be strong enough to floor a man.
“Oceansfooooooooooooooord!”
They did not stop to feast on disabled soldiers. They used their teeth to tear out throats, rip off limbs, and paralyze them by chomping on their nerve cords. One picked up a soldier and gave him a maneuver somewhat akin to a pro-wrestling move. A ‘torture rack’ I believe it’s called. He broke the soldier’s backbone over his shoulder.
The longer the battle raged, the more it became apparent. They were not ‘zombies’. True zombies are mindless, acting on instinct. The Chattur’gha moved with a clear purpose: To kill.
--EDIT: *"ignore" was a poor word choice. I meant that no other attacks hurt(caused pain) or killed them. Of course bashing them in the chest with a mace would do physical damage to them and pushed them back quite a ways, but it would not stop their assault. Although a mace-in-the-chest would slow them down, it would not slow them nearly as much as it would to a normal, living soldier.--
After the Chattur’gha and the Foot Soldiers, the Dead Knights marched in, clanking as they moved.
^add glowing red eyes!
Although very slow, they seemed almost impossible to defeat. One of them was seen falling down dead only after being hit by a ballista bolt, but the others kept walking. The Oceansford soldiers managed to trap some of the knights under heavy objects, pinning them helplessly to the ground, but the others slowly slew the guards. Sometimes an encounter would end when an Oceansford soldier would fight until he was too exhausted to lift his weapon.
Half of Jarik’s army was now inside the outer wall.
Jarik: “Sanakht! Tefnakht! Kanefertemre! Come!”
Three elite mummies turned to Jarik.
Jarik: “Inside the inner wall lie captains and lieutenants. I want them dead. Go now!”
The three mummies bolted towards the inner wall and scurried up it like animals. Kanefertemre grabbed an archer and screamed in his face as his body withered away. He absorbed the flesh and it was added to his muscles. Tefnakht leapt at a soldier and ripped his head off while yelling insults in Egyptian. Sanakht came holding a scimitar and slashed through the soldiers who vainly stabbed at his body. He stretched his hands out into the room full of fallen soldiers and began shaking. He spoke twelve syllables in his native language and the flesh and muscle peeled off the guards and swirled around the room before assimilating into Sanakht. He now appeared as a normal man.
Tefnakht threw the head away and inhaled the decapitated soldiers hands and feet until he grew large claws on his hands. Kanefertemre grabbed a soldier running by and absorbed all the muscle he could directly into his arms. His arms were now massive.
Tefnakht: “[Ancient Egyptian]?”
Sanakht: “[Ancient Egyptian]!”
Sanakht pointed to a doorway and the three Pharaohs walked in.
Battlefield!
It was a large armory with four support pillars. There was a long table in the middle of the room with various weapons strewn on it. Halberds, axes, and swords hung on the walls. Sanakht had sensed a powerful opponent in this room. Now comes their mission: Assassinate an important officer.Galefore/Repster,
Super-Mummy Three-on-One!
------------------------------------------
Cyrus appeared just inside the Southeast wall of Oceansford castle. The sound of siege weapons raged around him. He was in the hallway behind the castle’s ramparts. An Oceansford soldier ran in front of him and pointed a sword at his throat.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?!”
Cyrus was actually delighted to see a normal man, as opposed to the monsters and freaks that had terrorized him before.
“I am Cyrus of Gallionsberg, son of Simon! I mean you no harm! Verily, I would that ye escort me straightway out of this castle, for I do not belong here.”
The Oceansford soldier gave a look of obvious contempt and walked towards him.
“That’s right, you don’t belong here! Now come with me! I’m taking you t—”
SCRUNCH!!
Nothing could have prepared Cyrus for what had just happened. A very large creature had fallen onto the soldier and crushed him to death. In front of him, he beheld a dead heap of crocodile, polar bear, and soldier. Furthermore, the bear and crocodile seemed to be one creature. His whole body trembled, riveted in shock as he tried to regain his composure.
SPLAT
A kobold landed to his left. He stared in horror.
FLOP!
A creature seemingly made of a horse and a wolverine landed between him and the first mess, missing him by inches. He looked upward and saw more hybrid beasts and riders falling from the sky.
He ran for cover into the main hall in the South. Upon entering the doorway, he sawInside Oceansford castle, the soldiers responded with disgust when the dead carcasses of beasts and their riders came raining down upon them, flung by Desertvale's catapults. The giant beasts and little riders flew everywhere, drenching the interior of the castle with blood and killing any soldier unfortunate enough to be standing in the wrong spot when the giant steeds landed.
<Not going in there!>Balkin let out a mighty roar, as he turned wolf, and effortlessly threw the guards off him as though they were pieces of paper stuck on his body. The wolfman grabbed two soldiers and slammed their heads together, causing their heads to fly off their bodies from the impact. Balkin then threw two more guards out of a nearby window, falling to their deaths.
He turned back and ran towards another doorway, barely dodging a falling englehot. Inside, he saw what he thought a show business magician should look like.
“Goofball A. McChuckles, here. How may I serve you?” Goofball grinned and his buck teeth jutted out ridiculously. They seemed larger than life to Cyrus who stared mesmerized. He kept staring in a trance as his teeth seemed to be growing larger. Somehow, he found it amazing. So big… They now encompassed his entire view. A left incisor and a right incisor was all he saw. They appeared to be nine feet tall before they slammed shut on him, as if hinged in the middle. After a crunch and a split second of darkness, the head trauma caused Cyrus’ vision to swirl. He distortedly saw Goofball in front of him bending over and slapping his knee, and through the ringing in his ears he could hear Goofball’s uproarious laughter. He felt an aching sensation all over his body and once again, he had a pounding headache. He rubbed his eyes, shook his head, blinked a few times and then looked at Goofball.
“What is this that you have done unto me? and why do you laugh me to scorn?”
“You have fallen for a practical joke, my good sir, and I’m laughing because of the hilarious nature of it! It was hysterically funny, I tell you!”
Cyrus frowned and put his sword back in his right hand. “Is it sport to you to do mischief and harm to strangers? To play a joke on a friend may bring joy to the heart, but to hurt a stranger is not amusing.”
Cyrus shifted and he felt pain in his right shoulder.
<!>
He looked at the fang marks on his shoulder. The wounds had shrunken slightly and they were dark brown and scabbed over. He was now holding his sword in his right hand with great pain, whereas before, he could not so much as move his right arm without the pain being unbearable. He was sure the Chiropteranthrope had torn his rotator cuff! But now he had control of his right arm, albeit quite painful. He couldn’t understand. To him, not enough time had passed for it to have healed this much…
Goofball stopped and stood up perfectly straight with his arms straight down at his side. He held his cane right in the middle with his right hand.
“What do you mean, ‘not amusing’?”
“You have caused me a great deal of suffering! This is not funny!”
Goofball glared at Cyrus as if his vision would bore a hole through him. His cane clattered to the floor as his hands opened, tensed to a point when his veins may have popped right out. His muscles pulsated and swelled up until his biceps and thighs looked like kegs. He grew two feet taller and his skin turned reddish and more blood vessels bulged. [If you’re picturing a red cartoony Incredible Hulk right now, we probably got it right… but that’s up to VG Addict.]
Goofball clenched his teeth and seethed. Cyrus then realized he had made a mistake.
“Upon further consideration, it may have been slightly amusing…”
The animated monstrosity started towards Cyrus.
“Listen! I’m laughing! HA! Ha ha ha! I get it now! It was funny!"
But it was too late…
[To VG Addict:] Pulverize him. Badly. Just don’t dismember or kill him. He basically just runs; there’s no way his sword could hurt Goofball. I’m looking for something like Cyrus running around, narrowing dodging fatal blows, and trying to get away from him. Chase him a good while, and leave off just as Cyrus escapes. You may then retain control of your character. Many thanks if you oblige!
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Galefore
- Member
- Posts: 9354
- Joined: Tue Jan 04, 2005 2:00 am
- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
K, gaiz, I'm officially back. My internet was temporary slowed down to a crawl by my provider, and for some reason VGF was one of the more difficult sites to load. Now that it's officially back at its peak speed, I can do **** again.
So the walls are dismantled, meaning the castle can be invaded and my characters plus their lord will have to begin the final defense. Cool. Since I've been more inspired to write lately (although most of my writing has not been in the fantasy vein), I should be able to cook up something suitable before this just flatlines.
So the walls are dismantled, meaning the castle can be invaded and my characters plus their lord will have to begin the final defense. Cool. Since I've been more inspired to write lately (although most of my writing has not been in the fantasy vein), I should be able to cook up something suitable before this just flatlines.
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Galefore
- Member
- Posts: 9354
- Joined: Tue Jan 04, 2005 2:00 am
- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
So it seems half of you have dropped out of this. Just as a reminder, this is the state of things:
The armies are now allowed into the castle to face the bigger challenges and get the joy of slaughtering innocent peasants if the please because traveler has made that possible.
Let's capitalize.
I plan to introduce the major "fight-able" general type characters as well as rouse the rabble in Lord Stone, but it wouldn't hurt for you guys to continue your own personal stories. As Zaidon said via PM, some of you have put way too much work into this to abandon it, and unlike the Teuful Jihad, this needs to end because the major players are still here. We just need to get back into this.
If, however, this is the unofficial end, it would be disappointing, but hey. We've created a really great topic here, and we can all feel good about having participated in it. It was a major success. It could be even more so if we keep the ball rolling.
I'm to blame as well, I know. So expect something as soon as irl **** permits.
The armies are now allowed into the castle to face the bigger challenges and get the joy of slaughtering innocent peasants if the please because traveler has made that possible.
Let's capitalize.
I plan to introduce the major "fight-able" general type characters as well as rouse the rabble in Lord Stone, but it wouldn't hurt for you guys to continue your own personal stories. As Zaidon said via PM, some of you have put way too much work into this to abandon it, and unlike the Teuful Jihad, this needs to end because the major players are still here. We just need to get back into this.
If, however, this is the unofficial end, it would be disappointing, but hey. We've created a really great topic here, and we can all feel good about having participated in it. It was a major success. It could be even more so if we keep the ball rolling.
I'm to blame as well, I know. So expect something as soon as irl **** permits.
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Vapor
- Member
- Posts: 5156
- Joined: Tue Oct 25, 2005 1:00 am
- Location: WHERE IT'S AT
- Contact:
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Fairlight Excalibur
- Member
- Posts: 879
- Joined: Sat Nov 28, 2009 6:20 am
- Location: LA
WHAT?
Major success?
Catastrophic failure is the term you are looking for, at least if the topic dies in its infancy. This needs to live on to see a somewhat decent conclusion, and a few inactive members should not stop the rest of us from achieving that.
If nothing else, include some narrative that forces the inactive members to withdraw so the rest of us can finish this.
Even if they cannot post right now, (believe me, I know how that goes sometimes) give them a week or two to at least check in.
Otherwise, a giant earthquake may force their armies to withdraw. (or some other suitable occurrence to remove them)
It would also help if you post your own actions sometime soon, as I cannot advance myself until I know who or what I am fighting.
Major success?
Catastrophic failure is the term you are looking for, at least if the topic dies in its infancy. This needs to live on to see a somewhat decent conclusion, and a few inactive members should not stop the rest of us from achieving that.
If nothing else, include some narrative that forces the inactive members to withdraw so the rest of us can finish this.
Even if they cannot post right now, (believe me, I know how that goes sometimes) give them a week or two to at least check in.
Otherwise, a giant earthquake may force their armies to withdraw. (or some other suitable occurrence to remove them)
It would also help if you post your own actions sometime soon, as I cannot advance myself until I know who or what I am fighting.
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Galefore
- Member
- Posts: 9354
- Joined: Tue Jan 04, 2005 2:00 am
- Location: ur wildest dreems lol
^In terms of Gunjin topics, this one has sadly been a lot more successful than most. As you've seen, it's rare for a battle, especially a huge event like this one, to finish. I don't plan on letting this die, but it's hardly in its infancy (I'd say it's in its preteens). I've seen some extremely promising topics die a lot sooner than this one would if it does die, and therefore, it is not a catastrophic failure (Armageddon would be a great example of a real "catastrophic failure") and instead at least a minor success and a step in the right direction.
But then again, that's just me. :p
Again, though, I'm not going to let it die before it even takes flight. Don't worry about that. I was simply stating that we've done some good here, regardless, and I hope we can continue to do so.
But then again, that's just me. :p
Again, though, I'm not going to let it die before it even takes flight. Don't worry about that. I was simply stating that we've done some good here, regardless, and I hope we can continue to do so.