Forums / Roleplaying / The Endless Battle II

Since I murdered Charley and stole his face. Now get down and give me twenty!

What's with the confrontational attitude, anyway?

Well, I don't see you using that control... walls, people, walls! Chop chop!

*Mr. Charley gazes at his defensive position......the wall is of stone.....an unknown type of black stone carved by dwarves of the faraway mountains in return for many fine jewels.....the wall has 3 strong towers along its length....1 at each end and a large one with a mounted ballista in the middle.......the wall also has many crenelations and arrow slits along the top for optimum archer protection and also positions for swordsmen to repel enemies that attempt climbing over the wall with any kind of device.....There is also a wooden fallback position behind the stone wall in case the unthinkable occurs and this is made of ironwood....a wood almost as strong as the metal is is named after.  There is also a very tall tower in the middle of this position for observation.  It has several levels for archers to take positions and many longbowmen will be stationed here for long distance support to the front stone wall.....Mr. Charley was ready and his men in their positions.....*

Sorry, was away yesterday and I will be away later on today. xD

*Wraith looked from the soldiers to his wall. It was an impressive structure. 15 metres of thick stone, 25 metres high. The walls sloped inwards and a couple of metres from the top they jutted outwards sharply. The wall was in a 'V' shape with crenellations along the top for archers to be able to hide behind. Along the wall, Wraith ordered that fires be lit every 4 metres for archers to be able to light their arrows.

There was only one gate in the wall. It was large, made of thick wood, with iron bracings. There was also a pair of iron portcullises which Wraith ordered be closed at all times.

There were 5 towers along the wall. These were 10 metres higher than the walls. 1 was at the tip of the 'V' and there were 2 on either side of this. They were armed with 1 trebuchet each, manned by experienced soldiers who could fire them with great accuracy.

Wraith saw a low building behind the wall. It would be used for strategy and as a barracks, if there was ever a time to rest.*

We'll give him another day, then go without him.

Well, seems he's not posting. *deploys the Boot of Justice*

Okey... warmup round.

The Lord of the Undead stood atop a rocky outcropping, in one of the typical overly dramatic poses that he liked to hold. Through the ball of pure dark energy hovering in front of him, he could see and communicate with his four leiutenants, each attacking one of the segments of the massive line of defenses, protecting the world of the living from that of the dead.

He rolled and cracked his neck, to flex it up for the battle to come.

"Let loose the dogs of war" he rasped, and the subcommanders leaped to obey. Thousands of miles away, vast kennel doors of blackened steel slammed aside, shunted by dead creatures of meat and scorched bone.  Felhounds leapt out from the cages, their jaws slavering. Each hound was about three feet high at the shoulders, and six or seven feet long. It's tail ended in a club of bone, it's back was ridged with lethal spines, dripping poison. Worse, their distended jaws were lined with crudely implanted metal teeth. Despite the rust, they were still more than capable of ripping through armour.

The undead dogs bayed their fury into the sky, and pounded away towards the sparks of pulsing life and moving meat that stood in their way....

[In case you didn't work it out, you're being attacked by undead dogs. Quite large ones. Yes, they can climb walls - they can dig their claws into the wall and clamber up it. Haaave fun! ;D]

 Will you kindly post in this order?

-Demonsul
-Wraith
-Verthias
-Charley

It *is* a warmup round....and you've also assumed that they're unable to tunnel or climb up around the overhang, but nevermind.

[You can do anything you like. I tend to leave it hanging on a cliffhanger, so all the attacks merge into each other. See what I posted in the previous thread]

Verthias slumped against the cold stone of the tower, gasping out his final breaths. He'd pushed himself too hard... far, far too hard. The darkness began to close in around his eyes, the chittering of the creatures beyond the world grew louder, echoing through the blood pumping through his veins. Distantly, he heard the baying of the fleshhounds unleashed by the undead army, and he felt a moment of utter despair. With his death, his creations would fall, the fort would fall, the country would fall, the world would fall.

He could not let that happen, he knew. But the shadows were closing in on him already, trying to enwrap him, trying to make him part of them. Maybe that was it, he thought. He stopped struggling, and let himself wash into the realm of the grave, the void after death. Through willpower alone, however..

He stayed in the physical world.

His corpse stiffened and rose from the ground. The heart wasn't beating, and the lungs weren't swelling, but that was of little matter to him now. He looked down at the encroaching hordes of deathwolves, and chose his stand - the western gate, where the swarm was thickest. Teleporting down to atop the gatehouse, he sent out the order to his creations.

Open fire

Balls of rock rained down on the incoming forces, lobbed by the elementals of the wall. Roaring winds buffeted the hounds off the cliff and into the river, where they were ripped apart by the grasping limbs of the water elementals. Cold, bony hands drew back the strings of rotting bows. Dozens snapped instantly, the arrows falling short. Frowning, Verthias summoned up energy from the Void, and outfitted his arisen army with armour and weaponry fashioned from the fabric of magic itself. He summoned similiar regalia for himelf - coating himself in plate armour of shifting shadows, and equipping himself with a five-foot blade a micron thick. The first wave of dogs slammed into the wall with shuddering force, and were ripped to shreds by the claws reaching out from the stone to repel the invaders. The hounds clambered up the wall, boiling water and glowing magma flowing down the walls. Rocks and arrows thundered down with crushing force. Hundreds were boiled, fried, blasted, crushed, impaled and run through. Scant dozens reached the top of the wall - to be easily despatched by Verthias himself, weaving a web of shadows around the unfortunate hounds.

Not one survived to get back to the army...

Oh, you can kill as many as you like. Just like you can be attacked by as many or few as you like, and lose as many or few of your soldiers as you like. Remember, though, that this is heroism. A good post isn't one that makes it sound like your forces massacred them easily and won, because they were weak and used bad tactics and were outnumbered. A good post is one that makes it sound like your forces, despite horrific odds, in the face of all adversity, fighting for every inch of ground, to the last man and the last drop of blood, won. Make it sound hard, and it sounds good ;D.

Although for this round it's okay... since they were just henchlings anyway.

Also, you might want to make some kind of comment about losses. I don't want to hear that you lost 142 archers, but just give a general impression of a reducing force. Makes it sound more.. heroic.

*Mr. Charley was finishing up giving out rations of food to his men and then went on his patrol to his rear tower......his lookout reported what looked like a darkness crossing the plains and heading towards their section of the wall......The blood in Mr. Charley's arms went cold and ordered all of his men to their stations and to distribute their arrows accordingly.  The 3 towers had many archers and they also had made a special trap for the unknown enemy.....they had coated the 50 yards in front of the main wall with oil.....and there were archers on the wall to shoot flaming arrows when ordered to.  Men with longswords lined up just behind the archers ready in case the enemy tries climbing the walls and they also had boiling water to dump down the front of the smooth cut wall.  Then a loud roar filled the ears of the men and they looked upon an army of hounds that looked like demons from hell.  Some men were shaken by this site but the veterans near them gave them renewed courage.  Archers notched the arrows to their bows and the sound of the wood creaking filled the air.  FIRE!!!! The instant that command was given an innumerable number of arrows filled the air and blotted out the sun before landing into the black shadow of the enemy.  Many of them fell immediately but they showed great resiliance by being able to take several arrows and keep charging.  More arrows were fired....more fell.  This process continued for 5 more volleys before the next order was given.....Burn them with their own fires of Hell.  And the flaming arrows were launched and the flamed whipped up around the front of the packs.  Many were roasted alive and their howls were that of incredible pain and suffering and their corpses piled up in those 50 yards.  But many climbed over their fallen comrades and used the bodies as cushions against the fire and heat before making it to the wall and somehow digging their claws in and starting to scale up the front.  The archers fired volley after volley into the faces of the climbing hounds and their corpses piled up at the front of the wall.  Boiling water was finally poured on top of them as they began to get close to the top and all of them fell many feet to the ground.  Finally a last ditch effort was made and many of the remaining hounds started rushing up the wall despite the arrows and boiling water.  The few that reached the top were hewn into pieces by the waiting swordsmen and several men were wounded by the hounds quick reflexes but none were lost that day.  The few remaining hounds started to retreat but the longbowmen picked all of them off before they could safely escape.....the day had been won and the men felt relieved.  The battle may have lasted only minutes but the men felt like they had battled hard for hours and many were exhausted.  Mr Charley gave the order for 3/4ths of the men to rest while the other 1/4th kept watch for several more hours before they were relieved....and Mr. Charley had the nagging feeling like this was only the enemy probing the defenses of the obstacle in front of it*

The soldiers of Bronimina were celebrating their victory. The wall's architecture had protected them so far, and thus the attack had been pushed away. But the soldiers knew not all was well.

The ground began to tremor as a new enemy legion crossed the darkening horizon. The sentries called out and the alarms rang. The undead were attacking again! This time, however, the threat was far greater. The enemy consisted of dead men, stripped of all flesh and left as bone. The skeletons carried huge siege ladders that were obviously capable of reaching the top of the wall.

As soon as the skeletal warriors were in firing range, Demonsul gave the order, and the air filled once more with 'ranger' fire. However, the skeletons were prepared. At an unheard command, they simultaneously covered their ranks with dull gray shields that reached from head to foot. The 'ranger' arrows had no chance of penetrating these metal defenses. The skeletons marched on, unhindered.

Muttering curses, Demonsul called for the soldiers to draw their swords and proceed to create a perimeter in front of the wall. He hoped they would not need to fight, as the ice mages were making progress. They were firing hundreds of small shards of ice at the siege ladders, and the ladders were being splintered into pieces. However, there were too many ladders for them all to be destroyed before they reached the wall.

The thud from the catapults atop the towers was comforting, as Demonsul had seen the damage done by the huge rocks thrown by it into the enemy. They had stopped using the fire charges after they had realized that they had no effect on the advancing skeletal army. It was lucky that the flying boulders that replaced them were so devastating.

Suddenly, something clicked in Demonsul's head. Hoping he hadn't come up with another useless plan, he ordered the catapults to switch their chosen ammo back to fire charges. He then ordered the ice mages to fire powerful cold spells at the burning areas. The effect was catastrophic on the enemy army. The shields, that had become extremely hot,  were cooled so quickly by the magic that they exploded, often tearing apart the undead that was carrying the exploding defense. Large numbers of the skeletal horde were cut down by the flying metal shards.

When the skeletons reached the line of soldiers in front of the wall, their numbers were severely reduced. The soldiers waded in with slash after stab, and the skeletons with remaining shields hefted them in an attempt to block the attackers. However, the Broniminan battle armor worn by the soldiers was also taking damage from the ancient weapons of the skeletal army. The sharp noise of metal on metal filled the air. Many foul skeletons were shattered. Many noble soldiers fell. The battle raged until the skeletons began to be pushed back. With their numbers dwindling, the bones had lost all strength across their front line. The Broniminans circled round, and trapped the skeletons in a ring of steel. The ring began to close. Not one skeleton escaped.

After the last skeletal soldier had collapsed, the Broniminans gathered up their dead, and marched back into the wall. All the celebrations of victory were gone, replaced with the eerie silence of imminence. The Broniminan wall knew how tough its enemies were now. There was no chance in merrymaking. They began preparations for the next attack.

Verthias's. Mine are in brackets.
-Demonsul - 2 (1) = 2
-Wraith - 1 = 1
-Verthias - (2) = 2
-Charley - 3 (3) = 6

*The dogs were powerful but so were Wraith's men. They fought and the dogs fell to their blades. All of a sudden, the dogs stopped attacking. They turned their heads and retreated.

Wraith looked around. There were some wounded soldiers and one or two dead but most were still alive. The injured were quickly tended to by the mages and medics and the dead were moved out of sight. Then, they heard a dreadful noise. It was the sound of a marching army, perfectly in time with each other.

Wraiths blood froze in his veins. He and his soldiers looked for the sight of the sound and saw it immediately. The legion of skeleton warriors was slow but steady. They were just bone and armour but it was a terrifying sight. The bleached bones. The cruel blades. The eyeless warriors marching forth.

Wraith shouted orders and got an instantaneous response from his warriors. They raced professionally to their stations and prepared for the fight to come. Wraith ordered that the trebuchets be loaded and armed. He commanded the archers to notch their arrows. As one, they obeyed. With a yell, they let loose their arrows into the marching legion. Many hit the shields, embedding themselves into them. None passed through and not a soldier fell.

Wraith was amazed and shocked at the same time. He quickly recovered and the trebuchets let loose their loads. Huge boulders flew into the army, scattering the bones of those that got hit. But the legion kept coming. Wraith ordered the trebuchets to keep firing and for the archers to put away their bows and pick up their swords and melee weapons.  They stood and stared as this innumerable army marched, oblivious of any scattered remains of their comrades.

While waiting for the oncoming attack, Wraith wiped the blood off his Khukuri and he noticed something strange. The metallic black blade now had something blurred and white apparently smudged on it. He tried to remove it but it wouldn't come off. Figuring that it would clean itself, Wraith left it as the first ladder reached the walls.

The first soldier climbed up and Wraith blocked the swing from the skeleton warrior and slashed at the arm. It fell off and a soldier helped him hack the skeleton to pieces. They had no time to dwell on their victory as more ladders were put up all along the wall and more of the undead army clambered up the wall.

Wraith dodged a stab and kicked a skeleton square in the chest. The bones broke and the soldiers who witnessed this were renewed with courage. Time had weakened the bones and they were brittle.

Then there was a howling. The dogs had come back to join the battle. As Wraith hacked at another warrior, a hound bit his thigh. Wraith swore, hacked at the creature but continued in the fight, dodging blades, claws and fangs.

All along the wall, Wraith saw injured and even some dead friendly soldiers intermingled with the skeleton horde.*

[I should hope so! Poor timmy was this close to suffering trauma from your cruel accusations: And then he would have to have filed for a lawsuit]

-Demonsul - 3
-Wraith - 3 (Corrected) (Who the hell thought 1+2 was 1? o.O)
-Verthias -  3
-Charley - 9

Verthias kicked the rapidly decaying corpse of the hellhound off the wall with a contemptous flick of his boot. It plummeted to the ground, bounced off a rock, and tumbled into the valley far, far below.

Straightening up, he heard the advance of the skeletal shield-wall before he saw them. The steady thump.. thump... thump... of the armoured constructs would have been audible from miles away. He cursed, and sprinted up to the central tower to take a better look.

Theapproaching horde was vast. It stretched across the entrance to the valley as far as the eye could see - completely covering the floodplain. In a straight fight, he knew, even the tireless elementals under his command would eventually fall under the sheer weight of numbers of the oncoming tide of yellowy, crackling bone.

But that thought gave him an idea...

Opening a mental connection to the water elementals, swarming in their thousands in the river, he gave them the plan... flood the river, and the plain.

The rolling thunder of the approaching wave tumbled boulders off the mountainside. The watergate of the fortress was barely opened in time to allow the torrent of water now plunging off the waterfall to rush through. The river burst it's banks in seconds, sending a solid wall of water rushing towards the skeletons. The first rows didn't stand a chance - the force of the impact blasted them and their equipment to pieces, sucking it into the wave and battering the rest of the force with the unyeilding lumps of bone and metal. Water elementals rose out of the flood in their thousands. Like angry gods, they laid into the skeletal hordes - smashing them to pieces with impact forces, and slamming them into the walls of the steeply-sloping valley. The cascade continued, then slowed, then died down to a trickle. The elementals pulled back into the river, abhorring the touch of earth and air out of their natural enviroment. The plain, once green and verdant from the regular flooding, was covered in a mouldy white/yellow carpet.

Yet still the skeletons came. Marching on fearlessly over the heaped carcasses of their former comrades, they broke into a run towards the walls. Hefting siege ladders and bows, they covered the distance in minuites - little time for the boulders and javelins of the defensive mechanisms of the fort to thin their numbers. A ladder came up right in front of him - the lead skeleton jumping off the top before it had even hit the wall, it's eyes burning with hellish internal fires, it's mouth keening a pale imitation of a warcry.

He casually sidestepped the creature, tapping it on the back as he moved to pu*beep* across the wall, and left it to plummet eighty feet to it's second and final death. Raising his sword, he smashed the steel clips holding the ladder to the wall in a single stroke, then slammed a boot into the frame - tumbling it back into the horde.

Verthias looked around, shrugged, and moved down the wall, killing as he went.

The Lord frowned as he watched the various repulsings of his attacks by the humans. It seemed that the mere cannon-fodder would be no good here. He would have to be more inventive. Or at least more deadly...

He leaned back, and mused. To keep the defenders busy, he ordered the magi of the undead armies to open up a magical assault on the defences. Bombardment would sap their strength, and their numbers.

The assassins he was sending in would help as well, no doubt...

[Alrighty. You're being hit with seven kinds of hell in a magical firestorm, and there are assassins already *within* your defences. These guys are very good, but relatively few in number. Get to work!]

SKELETON ROUND RANKS

• Demonsul - 6 + 3= 9
• Wraith - 6
• Verthias - 6 + 2= 8
• Charley - 12 + 1= 13

I have to wait for Demonsul before I post my grand tale. =P

[ARGH! Where did my story go??]

Sorry mate but I voted first for you after. I really liked it. :)

Demonsul, we're waiting.. :)

Indeed. I do hope that this thread doesn't die on me like the last one did :'(

(CoughKICKcough)

......Oh sure make us wait 2 days and THEN say you quit....

Dude, just keep on posting. If we don't hear from you, we will either wait orcontinue and you can post afterwards. :)

If he can't carry on with it, quitting is the best way to deal with it ;D. Wraith, you're up first now.

[Humm. Maybe...]

[And i've kind of shafted myself for this round as well. Frowns.]

Verthias nudged the bundle of bones off the wall, and watched it slam into the ground below, breaking into a scatter of shards on the floor. The foot of the wall was already coated in the stuff, he noted. And it seemed to be... moving?

The pillar of bones shot straight up from the base of the artificial cliff, slamming into Verthias's torso with bonebreaking force. He soared high up into the air, surrounded by the calcified remains of his deceased foes. He had certianly never seen this one coming, he mused. Killed by a heap of dead guys you'd killed? He seriously hadn't. Slowly, his momentum died, and he began to plummet earthwards. Looking down, Verthias realized that he was not above solid ground, as he had thought, but instead over the canyon.

"Bugger" he muttered, as he fell a quarter of a kilometer straight into solid rock.

Above, the wall came under immense thaumic assault. They tried a direct attack first: A wave of fire swept over the wall, scorching the ground and cracking the stone of the wall. Dozens of the elementals defending the wall burst or fried, but most remained intact. Hunkering down behind the battlements, they were mostly protected from the waves of acid sweeping down from the clouds, sizzling as it hit the rock and flowing into pools. The river turned black with the burning liquid, sweeping out the water elementals. A wave of void energy swept the top of the wall, taking a centimeter-thick slice from hundreds of the skeletal defenders, cleaving them neatly.

Verthias felt a strange empathy for the energy, and reached out, drawing it into himself without a thought to his own safety. It felt.. strange.

The cluster of assassins whom he landed on felt a lot stranger when a black-glowing figure coated in inches of plate armour slammed into them with enough force to pulverize stone, of course.

Alrighty. We'll leave the voting system hanging until we decide upon another one that works as well.

But you're not getting away that easily, the undead exclaim! Sappers are moving to undermine your fortifications, dig tunnels into your barracks and generally raise merry hell with your troops.