| The Endless Battle |
As a wagon pulled up alongside the paladin wall, men where immediately
sent down to inspect the goods. They where good, and immediately passed
out to the men, however, most where ordered to not drink them.
"We shall drink them in shifts. Each contingent will be assigned a different day to drink their potion."
The men all thought this was a good idea, and it was immediately agreed
upon by all. Then a shout brought them all back to the real world. The
undead berserkers and their battering rams where approaching the walls. The ladders where no big problem for the big, burly paladins, but the rams proved a conundrum.
Then, one of the men thought of something brilliant. He poured some burning oil onto the first ram. He then shot a flaming arrow on top of it. Immediately, the ram burst into flames. Soon, the ram fell apart, and became ineffective, as the berserkers where burnt to death. Nothing would be able to breach the paladin walls, or would it.....?
{OOC:I'll do it Seloc, if no one else volunteers}
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(Might not get around to it until later today or tomorrow. Just to let you all know.)
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Fizban was relaxing on the rooftop of his tower. When the wagons pulled up for his men, there was a great deal of cheering. Fizban shrugged and started to doze off again when there was a loud roar. Apparently, there was one huge keg-like container of the stamina potion for his dragons. The dragons drank down the potion, just as the berserkers came towards the tower.
Now, these undead were different from the rest mindless horde, not because they wielded any magics of their own. No, these souls were trapped in burning bodies. Bodies that never turned to ash. to be tormented for all eternity. The only thing they wished for now was for others to experience the same type of suffering that they felt.
On these burning bodies came, carrying iron battering rams (being red-hot from the bodies' flames) and special ladders. Unfortunately, Fizban's fire wall defense wouldn't affect them. Still, Fizban was a crafty old codger... at least when he was thinking properly.
Pulling out a silver trumpet, Fizban blew a single note out of it. Immediately, the silver dragons came to Fizban's call. Circling over the tower, they spotted the berserkers and dived down. Now, these dragons were different than the others, for their breath weapons didn't set things ablaze. These froze their opponents in their tracks.
As the dragons swept the land in front of the tower with their icy breath, the undead froze, but their fires wouldn't die. They began to melt the ice. Upon seeing this, Fizban muttered the Permenancy spell. At that, the ice became like hardened crystal, and it trapped the undead inside. Now, the entrance to Fizban's turf is rather icy and filled with undead ice sculptures, and many common undead slip and slide around there to be chopped up at the knight's convenience..
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- Jonny Bacardi the Grand Master,
- Ron Jeremy,
- Verll,
- Goldsie,
- Leonidus,
- Ragnarr,
- Lewatha,
- Gaius Aureliae,
- Killer,
- Seloc.
So it is easier to see the order...
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yeh I know it's just that well.....ok then
[Skipping Leonidus too]
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In the distance Revenge noticed what looked like catapults coing over the horizon
" God dam un-dead, why can't they go somewhere else..."
" Captain, order our men to steady their arrows and concentrate on hitting the un-dead near the wall, thats the last thing we want is them climbing it"
Revenge took his bow and fired a few well placed arrows into a few un-dead
Revenge took a small bottle of whicky drank half, ripped some of his shirt and stuff it so it hang out the bottle , lit it or a torch then lobbed it at a group of Un-dead exploding on the ground setting them all alite
Revenge held his hand into the air " Comarespathiar " he murmered
Clouds drew over the whole battefield, the clouds burst with rain and lightning struck down onto the fields infront of them obliderating some Un-dead into burnt pieces
The catapults grew nearer to the walls, he looked across to the other leaders in anticipation hoping one would do something
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Ragnarr left the tower were all the wounded were taken care of. Good timing, that cart of potions came right on time. The situation was getting worse on their wall, and another attack with that scale would brake through their thin defenses.
Haldor was leaning on the battlementsm watching the sunset, which was setting beautifully behind the monstrous camp of the invaders.
"Ragnarr, you know another attack like that will be the end of us."
Ragnarr leaned beside him and looked towards the camp. There was movement and yells, or grouls...
They both understood what followed. Haldor quickly took out a war horn and blew it with his whole breath he had in his lungs.
The sound echoes through out the wall. The northern warriors rushed out from the entrances from the towers to their battle positions, with some fierce determination written on their faces - if this was how the Norns decided their fate, to die here, then be it so. They clashed their axes and swords to their round shields and yelled out their battle cries.
"Archers, hold!" Ricmorn had his hand raised.
Ragnarr looked into the eyes of his warriors.
"Unleash the wolves inside you. This will be bloody."
A dozen ladders hooked onto the battlements - it was useless to pull them off and push them back, since these were much heavier, and the hooks dug onto the stone. A warriors tried to hack a ladder off with his axe, but failed, for their ends were heavily covered in dark steel.
"Hold the shield wall! If it brakes, then next time we meet will be in Valhalla!"
There was a heavy thump and a creak.
"Ragnarr, the ram was touched the gates." Ricmorn called out.
"Boiling oil. Then egnite."
So it happened. Two wholes right above the ram emptied a few heavy pots of boiling oil, which discourged the berzerkers, but didn't stop them. Next followed tar. Then a burning arrow finished the job.
An inferno of flames errupted infront of the gate house, were the ram and screeching, twisting bodies burnt to the ground.
But it was not over.
"Hold the wall!" someone yelled when the first attackers jumped over the battlements onto the defenders. They were massive, ugly as hell, and probably came from there. Each was armed with something different, from which chunks of their old foes still hung.
"Push!"
The wall moved forward. Ragnarr was situated in the middle, the Wolven Banner bearer being right behind him. Haldor was on his right, Sigurd on his left.
"Loose arrows!" Ricmorn cried from one of the towers. A volley of arrows showered on the attackers, which didn't seem to care for the numerous wounds they had taken. Mindless to pain, they continued on battering onto the shields.
Ragnarr lowered his shield to stab the "thing" before him. He dug the sword deep in its chest, twisted and returned it behind the shiled. That had little effect. The foe battered onto him with a huge mace, which the northman blocked with his shield. It broke free from his hand.
He dropped the short sword and took out his greatsword, which he held with two hands. He slashed into the thing's chest again, pulled the sword free and pushed the berzerk behind the battlements, letting it take down all that were climbing the ladder as well.
"Haldar, give me your battle hammer!"
When he felt the weapon in his hand, he bashed the hooks of the ladder until it broke and fell back into the army.
Ragnarr looked around - the battle was still undecided, for the shield wall was broken in many points.
"Haldar, here,.....Haldar?"
The man was bitting his shield and grouling. His eyes widened. He threw away the shield, roared and took the battle hammer quickly before bashing into the closest enemy. He had gone berzerk. Fire is fought with fire.
Ragnarr headed for the oppostie direction. He rallied a group of warriors into a heavy counter attack. By nightfall, the attackers were pushed back and the ladders - either burnt or bashed off.
The casualties were heavy. Nearly half were wounded and a quarter dead. That left about two hundred and fifty able men on the walls.
Ragnarr was sitting on the battlements in deep thought when Ricmorn yelled to him.
"Reinforcements, from the Kurth fjords! Five hundred!" ...
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Gaius saw the enemies flock upon the walls. He started stabbing the ones near him, but suddenly he felt a terrible pain in his left arm. He looked down and saw his hand was gone, and in its place there was blood pouring out of a dark wound. He fainted, and one of his men moved him out of the battlefield. With this, only Hytlodeo was left to lead the men. He told one of the captains to attack the undead enemies on top of the wall, whilst he would go down and attack them on the ground. He called a hundred of the best men, and through a secret passageway got out of the wall into the enemies´ camp. There he fought the undead warriors fiercely.
Meanwhile, the archers had gotten rid of almost all of the Nazguls, and therefore started to attack the incoming enemies. Hundreds of arrows flew every second, and Gaius´ men wiped all the enemies that were on top the of the wall. Hytlodeo was fighting on the other side, in what seemed to be a suicide attack. Yet he was winning. Everything made it seem as if the battle was turning in Gaius´people side, until the siege towers appeared.Formidable weapons, the siege towers were able to carry hundreds of enemies in each of them. They couldn´t be stopped with conventional weapons, and trolls pushed them rapidly towards the wall. Doom seemed to have fallen upon the defenders. But then, the Red Guard arrived. Twenty five thousand of Constantinopolii´s finest warriors were now ready to continue the battle.
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[U sure I cant start to play again?!]
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[ Seems to me that Lewatha, Killer and Seloc have to post in the not so distant future... ]
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[WTF happened to everyone? someone got some sort of anti endless battle movement going, at least reply to my pm.....skipping Lew, I'll message killer but as he's allways quick to inform me he checks the forum every day.]
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Rather unfortunately, I have to write in non-italics! *Sigh*
*Killer surveyed the wall. Wagons appeared, tough difficult to make
out with all the dust around them, as they sped across before the
undead and their minions got to them. Killer, seated high on his
Nazguls, wondered how he would get them up. He flew down to them,
calling as he went "What is in the wagons, and were are you going?" One
replied swiftly "Potions my lord, they make you fight longer and well,
and we are distributing them along the wall." Killer looked at the
potions dubiously, from a small distance as the merchants or whatever
they were, were clearly afraid of the Nazgul. "I shall take ten, if you
have enough." The merchant took out ten, and set them on the ground.
"Certainly, but I amn't going near that," looking at the Nazgul, "but
why do you take only ten? There are fifty men on this part of the wall,
I am informed." "Because, I'm sure, not all will take them" Killer
replied, knowing that he himself would not take them. The merchants
continued onwards, leaving the potions behind. Killer chuckled, and
went over and took the potions. He flew up, "any who want these potions
take them," he cried, while level with the wall, handing them over to Grullin. One man took one off Grullin, and drank deeply, finishing the potion off. He seemed to be overcome by some madness, and he leapt from the wall, climbing down the wall recklessly, but with a skill Killer had not seen. The man managed to get to the bottom, and charged at the incoming horde. Even from his heighth Killer could see a pathway being cleared around the man. He flew down to take a closer look. The man fought with skill, but no heed for his safety, just focusing on killing the enemy. He was killed. Killer flew back up, seeing none of the other potions drunk. The men didn't want to waste their lives like the other man. Killer thought hard, and he eventually thought of an idea. "Grullin, please hand those to me," taking the potions off the man.
Killer flew down, and dropped the potions on the ground. He hoped his plan would work. Perhaps he shouldn't have dropped them all at once. Anyway, the plan was this : the beasts on which some of the undead rode, would lap the potions off the ground. They were strange beasts, but were not loyal to their masters, as they beat them. They were not good beasts, but they still had no bond to their masters. They would attack their masters with the braveness given to them by the potions. This is exactly what happened, and they cleared many foe away, but were eventually overcome. Killer flew back to the wall. "It think we used those potions well..." Grullin appeared, red-faced. "Sir, the villians destroyed our food!" Grulling was fond of food, as it happened. "We have still biscuits and such, but most of the food was posioned," Grulling said, accent lost with anger. Killer wondered how. Grullin continued "A man died of the disease spread by them into the food." Killer thought of the losses of the two men. He stared, grim-faced at the incoming horde. "Let us show these villians what breakfast does," glancing at the incoming horde, "take all unspoiled food and put it somewhere safe, and bring the rest carefully and make sure no other get sick or die, a plan forming in his mind...*
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I don't know why it came up in Italics... I can't get rid of it either...
Rather unfortunately, I have to write in non-italics! *Sigh*
*Killer surveyed the wall. Wagons appeared, tough difficult to make
out with all the dust around them, as they sped across before the
undead and their minions got to them. Killer, seated high on his
Nazguls, wondered how he would get them up. He flew down to them,
calling as he went "What is in the wagons, and were are you going?" One
replied swiftly "Potions my lord, they make you fight longer and well,
and we are distributing them along the wall." Killer looked at the
potions dubiously, from a small distance as the merchants or whatever
they were, were clearly afraid of the Nazgul. "I shall take ten, if you
have enough." The merchant took out ten, and set them on the ground.
"Certainly, but I amn't going near that," looking at the Nazgul, "but
why do you take only ten? There are fifty men on this part of the wall,
I am informed." "Because, I'm sure, not all will take them" Killer
replied, knowing that he himself would not take them. The merchants
continued onwards, leaving the potions behind. Killer chuckled, and
went over and took the potions. He flew up, "any who want these potions
take them," he cried, while level with the wall, handing them over to
Grullin. One man took one off Grullin, and drank deeply, finishing the
potion off. He seemed to be overcome by some madness, and he leapt from
the wall, climbing down the wall recklessly, but with a skill Killer
had not seen. The man managed to get to the bottom, and charged at the
incoming horde. Even from his heighth Killer could see a pathway being
cleared around the man. He flew down to take a closer look. The man
fought with skill, but no heed for his safety, just focusing on killing
the enemy. He was killed. Killer flew back up, seeing none of the other
potions drunk. The men didn't want to waste their lives like the other
man. Killer thought hard, and he eventually thought of an idea.
"Grullin, please hand those to me," taking the potions off the man.
Killer flew down, and dropped the potions on the ground. He
hoped his plan would work. Perhaps he shouldn't have dropped them all
at once. Anyway, the plan was this : the beasts on which some of the
undead rode, would lap the potions off the ground. They were strange
beasts, but were not loyal to their masters, as they beat them. They
were not good beasts, but they still had no bond to their masters. They
would attack their masters with the braveness given to them by the
potions. This is exactly what happened, and they cleared many foe away,
but were eventually overcome. Killer flew back to the wall. "It think
we used those potions well..." Grullin appeared, red-faced. "Sir, the
villians destroyed our food!" Grulling was fond of food, as it
happened. "We have still biscuits and such, but most of the food was
posioned," Grulling said, accent lost with anger. Killer wondered how.
Grullin continued "A man died of the disease spread by them into the
food." Killer thought of the losses of the two men. He stared,
grim-faced at the incoming horde. "Let us show these villians what
breakfast does," glancing at the incoming horde, "take all unspoiled
food and put it somewhere safe, and bring the rest carefully and make
sure no other get sick or die, a plan forming in his mind...* There we go, sorry.
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[I'll post later tomorrow, my pre-exams start tomorrow, which are to be treated exactly like the normal ones, lol, so if I suddenly become really inactive you know why.]
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[ahem, oops, been sick in bed for the last 3 days, but I don't have time to RP atm. anyways, so you can kill me off]
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Dishonorable deaths:
Verll,
Goldsie,
Leonidus,
Lewatha.
Honorable deaths:
Revenge.
The roleplaying is about to become a whole lot more tence, if I think your holding back on your roleplaying, I will threat it as if your purposly worsening your story and take that as a sign you don't want to play and you'll be killed.
The word limit has increased to 150 words.
Cliffhangers are now illegal, end your post by stating that you pushed/forced back the wave, and are waiting for another, failure is death.
- Gaius Aureliae,
- Ragnarr,
- Ron Jeremy,
- Jonny Bacardi the Grand Master,
- Killer,
- Seloc.
The death of the night was suddenly put ablaze, as thousands of red meteors rained down upon the battle feild. They landed with a splash, incinerating the unforunate souls that happened to be hit. The main bulk of these magic missiles were aimed at the heroic defenders, but they still rained indiscriminally killing all that blocked their path.
All was visable, as the flames each as bright as a thousand candles, replaced the sun. The attack contiuned.
Rain of fire, is being cast indiscrimentally killing all, by the undead mages and warlocks, in an terrible effort to dislogde the defenders from their high battlements. Whilst under the cover of the flames, the restless undead attack contiunes.
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Hytlodeo saw fire rain from the sky. Even though the Red Guard had arrived, this meant a serious setback, because now his men had to evade the balls of fire that burst from the sky. And Gaius had lost a hand, and wouldn´t be able to come back to the battlefield soon. He was really worried.
Once Leafar, the Red Guard leader, arrived to his side, he had a long discussion with this wise general. Many men had died under the hands of the undead warriors, and the fires of the enemy warlocks had also ended the life of plenty more. Leafar suggested that the Andur magicians could cast a protective shield over his men, but it wouldn´t last for long. They had to kill the enemy warlock leader. This would at least make the enemies retreat for a while, and would most certainly stop the terrible rain of fire.
Hytlodeo accepted, even though this would be a dangerous attempt. Hytlodeo looked on top of the wall, and there were at least two hundred meters of enemy fighter in front of the undead magicians. An arrow wouldn´t flight that far, and thus the only viable option was to attack them on foot. "But how?", he thought to himself. It was then when Leafar came up with a plan.
"We use the horses!", he said.
"But we only have 50 of them!", Hytlodeo answered, visibly disturbed. "This will mean doom to the ones that do the attack."
"I know", Leafar answered. "That is why I will lead the attack..."
Hytlodeo was shocked. He had heard o the chivalry of the Red Guard´s leader. Yet he had never imagined he was such a brave man.
"That filthy scum won´t be able to stop me. I have fought enemies that were more dangerous and powerful than this. These undead creatures are weak, they only have their number. We have the courage and mighty arm of the horsemen of the Red Guard of Costantinopolii!". Leafar said this with an arrogan tone, but Hytlodeo saw doubt in his eyes. He knew he was riding towards death...
Roughly half an hour after this, Leafar and 49 selected riders had gathered in front of the small gate of the wall. Because of the rain of fire, the enemy had retreated. Hytlodeo knew they were letting them burn to death.
Leafar started speaking once the last rider arrived.
"Men of Constantinopolii, I have summoned you to what could be the last ride of the Red Guard´s horsemen. We ride towards death, towards undying glory. I cannot promise you will survive, but I swear your memory will. Today, we will become a legend. We ride forth...! We ride towards the undead enemy, and we will not leave any alive if our arms can prevent it. Forth my men! We kill the undead warlock leader!!!"
The roar of the horsemen made the undead warriors tremble, even though they were almost 50 meters away from the gate. When it opened, Leafar was the first one to get out, and he rode from one side of the wall to another, yelling and slashing the wind with his sword. The fifty men followed.
Hytlodeo ran to the top of the tower, where the Andur mages were casting the shield on top of the men. From there he saw the valiant and gallant horsemen ride towards the enemy. Meanwhile, the sky turned red, since the flames had gathered on top of the magic shield and were trying to get through, with irresistible strength. The high priest of Andur told Hytlodeo that they wouldn´t be able to make it last for more than ten minutes. Ten lousy, short minutes...
Leafar whispered a word into his horse´s ear, and he started galloping. The majestic view of this great rider and his horse was one of the greatest man has ever been able to observe. When he encountered the first enemies, his sword emitted a burst of light that blinded the enemy. Behind him, the fourty-nine knights had catched up and started killing the enormous number of enemies. Some fell, but the group easily cut through the enemy lines and reached the undead warlocks. It was then, when the trolls and Nazguls appeared from behind and attacked the incoming force. The horses ran away of the Nazguls, and the Trolls were formidable adversaries that were very difficult to kill. It was in this moment that the incantation of the Andur magicians ended. Fire burst from the sky, and for a moment, everything disappeared under a wave of flames. Once it dissipated, Hytlodeo saw that over ten thousands of enemies lay on the ground, burned to death. But the horsemen had protected themselves with their magic hand shields, and therefore had survived.
Even so, some had died fighting the enemies, and some had also been caught in the fire. Hytlodeo counted 28 horsemen on the fields, most of whom were fighting the new waves of enemies that came in from the rear of the army. Of the ones that were in front, only the undead magicians had saved themselves from the fire, because of their magic.
It was then that Leafar saw the undead warlock leader. He was two and a half meters high, and his purple tunic was engraved with gold and precious stones. He rode towards his enemy, making his animal run as fast as he could. He threw his spear against his face, and failed only by inches.
Suddenly, he felt something in his back, a gut wrenching pain followed this. He fell down of his horse, never to go back up. A Nazgul had stabbed him.
Hytlodeo saw this, and he felt everything was lost. There were only 3 horsemen now, and they were surrounded by enemies. He was horrified when he saw hundreds of black arrows hit them repeatedly. The attack had been a failure. The enemy magicians had not been assassinated. And the undead army marched towards the wall, ready to kill each and every one defender...
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[ First time I am obligated to use something different from cold steel and wooden shields. (: ]
"Rain of Flames!" a warrior yelled out the obvious in front of everyone at their posts, wathcing alomost hypnotically their coming doom.
The man who warned the rest was struck by a flying fire, which cast him down backwards onto the armories and blacksmiths behind the wall, ablaze and yelling.
The ones, fortunate enough to survive had quickly taken shelter in the towers and guardhouses, leaving the battlements undefended.
Ragnarr was not so fortunate.
He was not dead. He was trapped. He and about ten others took shelter in the shade of the battlements, keeping close to them as possible, with their shields raised above their heads, so that any raining fire would hit the stone in front of them.
Ragnarr didn't have a shield, just the protection of the stone before him. He quickly took out a dagger and enscribed a few runes for stability onto it.
"Halfdan!" he yelled over the roar of the falling meteors. "Three blows!"
The one on his left nodded and took out his battle horn and sounded it three times, signaling all to keep under shelter.
Then there was a grand colliding sound which shook the walls. Ragnarr turned his head towards from where the sound came and looked at what used to be the southern tower of the wall. Half of it was gone, now evaporated from heat and flying rubble.
"Ragnarr, the armies are coming for another attack!"
Ragnarr took hold of the charm around his neck, which was representing Mjolnir. He then looked upwards towards the red sky and saw two ravens, flying, undisturbed by the meteor shower. It was a sign. Hugin and Mumin, Odinn's two ravens were here.
Then, from the north, a large cloud as if appeared and settled over the wall steadily. It was vast and dark, heavy, every moment about to break out into rain.Lightning flashed between their massve bulks and thunder echoed.
The meteor shower had weakened.
And not only Thor was helping them, but Njordr, as then a slight gust of wind evolved into a windstorm, which completely changed the direction of the raining fire. It started pouring onto the attacking troops and camp, and after a while it stopped, leaving only ashed were it landed. The wind grew weaker too, but the clouds above remained, and suddenly broke into a heavy cold rain.
"Halfdan, one long blow!" the horn sounded again and the walls were flooded by the northern warriors, assuming their positions, cheering that the Old Gods were on their side.
The attack was destroyed by their own evil and the cleverness of the ones above....
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Fizban was sitting up on top of his tower as the battle continued to
rage. Oddly enough, Fizban was in the middle of a rather deep sleep
when he heard a loud 'thudding' noise and screams of his men as they
were being burned. As his clerics were scrambling to heal his men and
put out the flames, Fizban studied the magical nature of the attack.
Dropping the guise of befuddlement, Fizban took action.
Looking off into the distance, Fizban spotted the enemy mages readying
another round of fire rain. Thinking quickly, he began an incantation.
As the fires began to rain down on his area again, a silver shell
appeared around the tower, looking like a mirror. The magical flames
were absorbed into the 'mirror' and the color turned from silver to
red. Fizban grinned and then yelled, "MEGA FIREBALL!!!!!"
The mirror released all of the flames that the enemy mages cast and it
was flung right back towards them. The undead unfortunate to get caught
in its path were incinerated as their mages tried to make a counter of
their own. The fireball crashed against their hastily created shield,
still the power of mortals couldn't match the power of diety. The
fireball crashed through and an explosion that could be seen from the
other parts of the wall appeared.
The knights and dragons that remained cried out at the momentary victory and the respite from the enemy's flames.
(Sorry guys, we had a bunch of layoffs at work, so it's been REAL hard for me to login and post, much less play)
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[I mightn't be able to get on as I'm sick, but it depends on when the others post.]
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[Killer I'll contiune the game at 4 tomorrow (GMT).
Is their anyone who isn't dieing/sick?]
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[Sorry it's late.]
Dishonorable deaths:
Killer,
Jonny.
Honorable deaths:
Ron/Fiz (Some nice words and desribed really well, but you have been accused of god-mode-ing, and needing to sort out problems in RL.)
- Gaius Aureliae,
- Ragnarr,
- Seloc.
Congradulations to our two remaining warriors! Today is a day to be heralded! Today is a day to tell your grandchildren about in those cold winters!
You have survived against the odds, but the battle just starts here.
Now you will decide the fate of your world, today you will either win an epic victory over impossible odds, or you will be destroyed by those very creatures that even god turned away.
Additional last round rule: This round you must produce to seperate role-plays. One must be where you survive the attack, either by saving the world and killing all undead, or you can run and live your life on the other side of the world, constantly in fear. The other must be where YOUR wall falls, and depict a death suitable, for you two champions of the wall.
I will read both, and decide the better, the one with the better I will accept their first story, the loser I will accept their second story (Depending on how good it is).
For this round there is absolutly no word limit.
It must be emotionally moving as far as possible, remember the world is in your hand.
You CAN both lose.
Try to make your ending original, anything could happen, god could save you, an powerful mage could come to your aid, or reinforcements ccould arrive and you could repel the enemy attack.
If you copy the idea of another player, you will automatically lose.
The land rippled. A painful crack could be heard. The screaming of men was heard. The wall was colapsing.
In the distance their stood an emence number of enemy mages, to much to fit into your range of vision three times over, and three again. The recongisably simple spell being cast by all; Crush walls.
A cloud rose in the distance. The new morning sun had been blotted out by thousands of nazguls. Upon these demon mounts, the small frail form of a warlocks could be seen, positioned between the neck and wings.
As all hope was lost, there from the skies shined a briliant white light. It pierced through the terrible cloud of the winged demons, and lighted the heavens above!
The wall commanders were the first to realise what this mystical entity was.
(As it has always been this is just a guide, you will never be peanilised for using or not using it.)
[P.S. Congradulations you two.]
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[ Yeah, but we didn't so much reach these places from good RP than from others not posting :/ anyway, I guess I'll post first. My ending post should come up in an hour. ]
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[I hope you mean endingS, But Ragnarr whether you agree or not your the best roleplayers here.]
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[ Endings? We need to post two endings? I thought we had to choose from two types of endings,... well that would dely my work greatly, since tomorow have a history exam. If I post late, will that be a problem? It won't be later than 24 hours from now,...]
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[Not at all, Aureliae has to post still anyway.]
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[I am a little short of time, so I´ll post the bad ending now and the good tomorrow]
As the walls fell to the ground, Hytlodeo saw thousands of
grey beasts flying above. Suddenly he felt the ground in which he stood crumble.
He looked down, and a crack opened exactly below him. The tower was falling! He
tred to run to the door, but it was too late. Everything was falling down, and
so was he. The last thing he saw, before the debris fell on top of him, was a huge white light in the sky. It
was moving towards the enemy. Then, everything turned black.
Gaius had awoken mere moments before the wall´s destruction.
Once he got back to his senses, he ran to the battlefield, where he saw
thousands of enemy troops climbing what was left of the wall and rushing into
their own territory. “The wall has fallen!”, someone shouted in the farther
side of the wall. Gaius regrouped as many men as he could, and moved them
towards the wall, to the final defense. With two hundred men on his side, Gaius
marched hastily towards the undead attackers, who had killed every single man
they had run into. It was then that he noticed a strange spot on the sky. It
was moving quickly from the east to the west. It resembled a star, but it just
couldn´t be one. It was then that Gaius remembered his childhood journeys toward
the ancient cave were the Constantinopolii were said to have been born.
In there he had seen a picture made by the ancients. It was
said to be the god of thunder, Ilumina. And now, out of the blue, he was seeing him in
the day of doom…
On that particular moment, as Aureliae looked at the sky, an
arrow flew next to his head. He immediately turned back to the battlefield, and saw
over 100,000 undead orcs and trolls marching towards them. And Nazguls were
attacking them from the sky, with arrows, some of them covered in flames. Gaius
shouted to his men in the old tongue, and they roared. He took his sword out,
closed his eyes for a few seconds, and then ran towards the enemy.
He cut one arm, two, three. He stabbed a troll in the eye,
then quickly retrieved the sword and killed another one. But more kept coming. Suddenly,
as he was looking around for more enemies, he noticed a familiar face lying on
the ground, under a huge stone section of the wall. It was Hytlodeo! His old
friend, looking rather pale was in the ground, blood still flowing from his lip. He
ran towards him, forgetting everything that was happening around. Once he got
to his friend, he kneel down, and took his hand. He cried sour tears, the tears
one cries when a good friend is lost. He heard a horn in the distance, but he
didn´t care. “It must be more enemies coming.”, he thought. He took out his
sword and pointed it towards his chest. Then, alter a final glance at the blue
sky, he pushed...
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To all those 'god modders' read up on who Fizban actually is. Hellooo..
Still, it's for the best I reckon. Not enough time to VU anymore.
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Shh Ron I know Fizban is a god (Deity), with a habit of loseing his hat, but I clearly stated no godmoding at the start.
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You only gave me two days. And that's after I didn't know I was supposed to post with the other guy not posting before me... ah well...
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Hytlodeo ran down, and left the wall, looking for Gaius. A steward had told him he had finally awaken, and this was the last hope left in his heart. As he strode towards Gaius´ tent, he heard the earth crack. But it wasn´t the earth. The undead magicians had cast crush walls upon the only thing that divided them from certain death.
Gaius came out of his tent, running. "What happened?", he asked his old friend. "The wall has fallen!", Hytlodeo shouted, still shocked. Gaius ran towards one of the stewards and told him to regroup all the men he could. They were fighting the enemy head-to-head now.
Once all the men that could still bear arms gathered near his tent, Gaius saw there wasn´t much hope. Hordes of enemies were rushing through the ruins of the wall, their eyes filled with hate. It was then that the commander of the Constantinopolii noticed something in the sky. "Is that...?", he started asking. "Ilumina!", Hytlodeo quickly answered, his words full of joy. "The holy beast has come to help us!"
All of the Constantinopolii noticed the ancient flying snake, and felt that faith had turned to their side. Victory seemed at hand now, with Ilumina there. The beast flew towards the defending army, and suddenly the battlefield got filled with a white light. Gaius saw Nazguls falling from the sky, dead. And the undead warriors started retreating, running as fast as they could. Hytlodeo looked at Gaius, who nodded. "Attack!", he yelled. And like that, the entire Constantinopolii army rushed towards the enemy.
Their legs felt lighter, and so did their weapons and armour. Perhaps Ilumina had something to do with this, but they didn´t care in the moment. They ran fast, and catch up with the enemies, who didn´t even try to fight back. Several fell under the mighty hand of the fighters, whilst others ran into a nearby cliff and jumped. Suddenly, Ilumina started flying high in the sky, and so he reached the stars. Gaius wondered what it was doing. It was then that Ilumina started falling towards the ground. Halfway through its free fall, the white snake burst into an enormous ray of light, which opened a portal into a parallel universe.
The Constantinopolii pressed the fleeing enemies towards the gate. And once the last one disappeared behind it, the portal turned red, and suddenly a huge mountain appeared where the portal had once stood. The enemies were sealed under it. Gaius and Hytlodeo started shouting at the same time: "Victory! We have victory!". The victorious army rode back to Constantinopolii, where the people celebrated for years. They were safe, finally! Or so they thought...
For they didn´t know that the portal hadn´t been sealed forever. But that is part of yet another story.
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[ Okay first I’ll post one ending, this is the victory one, and after time the other one. ]
The earth shook and trembled. The wall beneath the warriors was trembling.
They hardly had time to cheer the victory the Old Gods had granted them before the wall beneath them crushed. Many fell to their deaths, after which being buried beneath the increasing piles of chaotically falling off stones. The ancient wall had fallen, and now, as it stood, half-destroyed, its gatehouse was deviated. In the place of the old ironwood gates and stone defensive structure, only a pile of rocks and pebbles stood, leaving a narrow, yet large enough hole in the wall for the undead to use.
Ragnarr pushed a few rocks of him and slowly stood up, uneasily stepping on the pile of destruction. There was a sharp pain in his left leg, and his whole right arm was in wound and cuts. He ignored them and looked around to see what has become of them. Most of his battle comrades were dead, as he saw their lifeless bodies under the rocks. Sigurd crawled out from beneath a pile of ruin and a few others, among which were Folkmar, Thorgil, Greywulf and Ivar.
“What the hell happened?” someone asked.
“The last thing I saw was a large group of mages,…”
There was then an uproar of charging screams and a black melody of drums. The army of the undead was charging and breeching through what used to be the gatehouse.
“Rally under my banner!” Ragnarr yelled, drawing his sword out and waving his Wolven Banner with the other. “This shall be our last stand!”
They all ran and took positions behind the piles of rubble and ruin, looking towards what was coming for them. A huge mass, driven by evil, bent on merciless destruction. Thousands and thousands skeleton warriors, lyches, dark riders, wraiths and anything else the underworld spat out were running at them. Huge clouds of dark smoke made the sky black behind them.
There was still heavy rain. Yet the Old Gods were not watching over the warriors anymore.
Why did they delay their deaths then?
And then Greywulf started chanting:
“We left our homes behind, now we're following the wolves' trail
Through the deepest forests, beneath the stars we ride
I can see the moon glowing red like the blood of warriors
There's a prophecy, that tonight many men will die
The fire will burn forever in our passionate hearts
Our destinies are calling us now”
The others joined with him:
“We are ready to take their lives
Into battle we ride with Gods by our side
We are strong and not afraid to die
We have an urge to kill and our lust for blood has to be fulfilled
WE'LL FIGHT TILL THE END! And send our enemies straight to Hell!
Prominent leaders, cast your swords in the wind as a sign of war
Men, prepare for death, 'cause we might never return
Blood will spill and heads will fall
As the swords sparkle, lights the night
The ground rumbles as we attack
In the throes of rage, we will fight
The lightning's flash, the thunder's roar
Will petrify the weak
We'll show no mercy, we'll kill them all!
We are sworn in the name of steel”
“NOW!” yelled Ragnarr, who left his cover behind the broken down wall and jumped in front of the masses.
It was a sea of bones. An ocean of attackers. Tide after tide, wave after wave, with black banners amongst the ranks, flapping grimly. The combat started immediately, as Ragnarr made a charging slash at the closest enemies.
Most of these undead creatures were slow and clumsy in fight, but their numbers were vast and huge, and the northmen were so few and wounded.
“Form a shield wall!” Ragnarr yelled, running back to the wall gap, lifting a half-broken shield from the ground and changing his sword with a short one.
They held it for long, until a mass of dread knights bashed into their shields and broke their wall. The battle was lost.
“Hold your damned ground!” Ragnarr was enraged, making powerful high slashes in all directions, for they were now surrounded.
“Ragnarr, to the east! Reinforcement banners!” someone yelled.
There was an uproar in the ranks of the northmen, who gained courage and held their positions. Then, from the east, around five hundred northern riders surged out from the alleys of the town around the citadel of the wall and cut into the undead ranks with a roar.
The battle continued until nightfall. There was much screaming, hacking, slashing, attacks, counterattacks and skirmish. By its end, the armies of the dead were crippled, its commanders cut down, its banners burnt. Many had fallen in this battle. Its field was covered in bones, bodies and fallen weapons and shield. The soil beneath was soaking blood, the sky above was in black clouds, yet bright rays were piercing through them onto were the ruined wall lay.
Greywulf, as well as many others, were walking among the ruins of the wall in search of the bodies of fallen comrades. They all had to be buried with dignity and honour.
The wolven banner was sticking out from the middle of the gap in the wall, tilted to a side, yet upright, its colours flying proudly – the wolf of the north was roaring with victory.
“Ragnarr!”
Just under the banner, the body of Ragnarr Stormguard lay. He was still holding his sword, yet he had a horrible gash in his chest and belly, continuing up to his shoulders, and an arrow in his neck – obviously the finishing strike.
The Old Gods granted them with victory, but at the cost of human life…
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Can we have a round two of this after it is done? I just might join...
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[ Yeah, that's true. I really like that group. ((: Is that considered cheating though? ]
[ Uh, Seloc, sorry for the delay, just have trouble finding the right thing to write. ]
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[ This is the defeat post. ]
The wall was being brought down slowly.
It was sinking in the dead earth beneath, crumbling and shattering on the way. The towers broke down, the gatehouse collapsed, the blacksmiths and armories under the wall were crushed.
The ancient stone wall was being leveled to pile of ruin.
A huge cloud of dust formed above the rubble, creating a mist, a fog around the former defenses. When Ragnarr managed to let his right leg free from a massive stone, he couldn’t see a thing. Then, when he stepped to his feet, there was a sharp pain in his right one – the horrid fall had seen to that that it was broken.
There was much choking heard around, so some had survived, yet they would not see the rally banner.
Someone blew a war horn and it echoed among the piles of ruin. Ragnarr started limping in that direction, noticing other shades in the fog heading that way too.
The one who sounded the horn was Greywulf. He was standing on a mound of old stones, looking towards the deads’ army ahead.
The fog was weaker here.
All those who had survived had gathered here. A pitiful number of them was there, around seventy of the five-hundred and more.
Greywulf helped Ragnarr limp on top the mound, where they both looked at the warriors gathered.
“My sword and I are staying here, for the dead are making the finishing breach. Who ever is with me may stay. Who ever wants to leave and live in fear his whole life from the world, corrupted by undead, may leave.” Ragnarr didn’t wait to see who is with him and turned his back on them, drawing his sword and looking at the old inscribed runes on it.
They shone in gold from the single ray of light that broke the fog, falling upon them.
“Here they come.” Someone said.
Battle drums sounded. The rhythmus beat of thousands, marching towards them, shook the ground. It was as if a sea of darkness was going to flood them.
“Ragnarr, here.” Sigurd was handing Ragnarr reins of a horse. It seemed to be calm, not knowing the doom approaching. “You’ll need a horse if your leg is wounded.”
Ragnarr nodded grimly and saddled the fine horse. He looked behind one last time and saw none of his warriors had left – they were all ready, with cold determination on their faces.
Ragnarr raised his sword.
“Brothers! This will be our last battle. And since we’re going to fall anyway, let’s make their lives hell while doing so!” He said pointing with his greatsword at the armies.
Some smiled nervously, others grinned.
“For our glorious motherland, for the North! Get Ready!”
The undead were meters away from them.
“Charge!”
The fierce war cries tore the air, as the northern warriors charged into their doom.
The wall had fallen. The world was open to evil. But the guardians of the wall never left their posts.
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The final surviver of the Endless Battle Thread is Aureliae.
I accept Ragnarr's defeat post, and Aureliae success post.
I want you to know neither of you lost, it's just that those were the better of the two you posted, convenitenly for me.
I now proclaim this test a complete success.
I will creat another round of the endless battle myself, and then we'll see how that goes.
Only two people have recieved their final stories, Lewatha and Septim, (because they were the first people on the list.) I'm slowly working my way round to giving everyone these, although I may just limit it to those that survived 3 rounds or more. These stories will contain your death (A short one I'm afraid) with the exception of Ragnarr and Aureliae who have writen there's for me, or don't die.
I might aswell start sign up now (sign ups will last awhile) so that everyone gets a go, as many have shown an interest. (need info read this thread, mainly my posts.)
If you base your character upon a god (Fiz) then I suggest maybe weakening your character a bit because I don't allow god moding, but you don't have too.
- Seloc
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[ It was a good game. Thanks, Seloc. Congrad-s, Aureliae. (: ]
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- Seloc
- Killer(may as well... hopefully I won't get sick again)
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Will it be ontop of a wall again or will you change the scenery?
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You change the senery yourself, the wall is only a defult option. Arzun had a keep I believe.
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- Seloc
- Killer(may as well... hopefully I won't get sick again)
- Demonsul -- "My wall has more undead attacking it than yours"
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Seloc
Killer
Demonsul
Meowman
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-
Seloc
- Killer(may as well... hopefully I won't get sick again)
- Demonsul -- "My wall has more undead attacking it than yours"
- Meowman
- Cephorus Septim IV
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Im gonna design my all now, just so you all know what it looks like
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Yes! Its a basic wall with a big tower behind it!
Its also crewed by a team of top marksmen with long range crossbows, and on top of the tower is a ballista that shoots bolts that have been strapped together causing a continuous fire effect
Although I need someone to send a shipment of rapid-fire bolts to me whenever it's their turn, as I cannot produce them myself
BTW the wall is 10m high and the tower 30m
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