B
Belomar
Guest
[No, this is NOT the relic raid chronicle (it is coming, but I had to finish this one first), but an account of a recent RvR foray we had in Hadrian's Wall. It may seem a bit SS-centric, but I thought that it could still lighten up the (sometimes dark) mood of this forum. Let's hope I won't get any Zzzzz replies... 
]
Vigilant eyes intent on the barren hills around them and finely-honed weapons loosened in their sheaths, the eight-man strong force of Shadowlords were once again patrolling the no man's land of Hadrian's Wall, the outmost frontier zone to the fair realm of Albion. This was hostile ground and we all knew it, in the past having encountered many enemies streaming into our land like a pestilence issuing from the stony maws of the two milegates making up the wall itself. The perilous situation of the powerful strength relics held deep in the near-impregnable keep of Castle Excalibur and the daily encroachments of invaders to prepare for an assault towards this keep had resulted in the Society keeping a strong presence in the Albion frontier, and today was no exception.
Your chronicler was leading this glorious force of Shadowlords, eight sunburst cloaks rippling powerfully in the chill wind. Speeded by my trusty drum and the beats of my motivational anthem, we were weaving our way towards the Hibernian milegate guarding the Hibernian teleport keep itself, having previously been alerted of enemy movements in the area. By my side was the trusty armsman Caranthir, his wicked a polearm seemingly an extension of his strong arms, as well as his battle brother Astardor, a long two-handed sword strapped to his broad back. The paladin Bernard, anointed by the Holy Church of Albion, brought up the rear, his weapon of choice also a fearsome two-hander, tempered by the death of countless invaders. Black-clad and hooded, the master scout Nibor padded along on silent feet, followed closely by stalwart Borni, clergyman and healer of the Church. The friar Orinoco, member of a more offensive branch of the Church and a holy man in himself, also numbered in the band, the nefarious Saracen infiltrator Malyss, her twin daggers sheathed within a heartbeat's time of drawing them, keeping a watchful eye on the surroundings.
As we neared the Hibernian milegate, which seemed quiet and abandoned, we got word of a large force of Midgard invaders passing the Midgard milegate and having dispatched of the Albion blocking group posted there. Quickly, the Shadowlords formed up on your chronicler, and I then proceeded to turn east and set course for the lone tower commanding an excellent view of the broken aqueduct cutting Hadrian's Wall in half. A Midgard force could not be allowed to run rampant in the Albion frontier and must be stopped before it did more harm. Preparing ourselves for battle, it was with no small trepidation we crested the last hill up to the tower itself.
And there, as we had hoped, was the Midgard force, a band of hulking Trolls, bearded Dwarfs, and snickering Kobolds. Now having spread out into attack formation in a wedge, the yellow-clad Shadowlords descended from the hill like the wrath of God into the right flank of the advancing Mid army. The enemy had little time to react. With a tremendous clash of arms, the two forces joined battle with each other.
Battle is chaos, as any experienced campaigner can tell you, and this battle was no exception. Your chronicler, knowing that my responsibility was to halt as many of the enemy attackers as possibly with my commanding cadence, immediately whipped out my flute and mesmerized the Dwarf runemaster preparing to cast one of his devastating spells. That threat temporarily disabled, I scrambled out of the fray and circled around to the rear of the battle. Spotting a Kobold hunter lining up a shot on me with his fearsome bow, I stunned the archer with a incapacitating shout and mesmerized this threat as well. However, as I turned around, searching for new targets to mesmerize, I was stunned to see Malyss attacking the Dwarf runemaster from stealth and being instantly mesmerized by the enemy healer. Casting my Speed of Sound spell to counter this and give Malyss time to withdraw, I drew my black-edged sword and charged the Dwarf to save her from his spells. However, I was too late, and was nearly thrown back by the shock wave as poor Malyss was burned to a crisp and fell to the ground.
Screaming in rage, I charged forward once more and cut into the Dwarf runemaster jeering at his victim. The smug smile on his bearded face quickly turned to a grimace of pain as my enchanted sword bit into his thin armor, and with a shout of triumph I was able to bring him to his knees and trample his broken body beneath my armored boots. However, my glee was cut short by the death cry of poor Borni, his powerful divine smites being unsufficient to counter the combined weight of two huge Trolls. Again sheathing my sword and biting back the grief of seeing our stalwart cleric being mutilated by these foul invaders, I brought out my flute and quickly mesmerized both Trolls.
However, scarcely had I put down my flute when I felt an arrow penetrate my armor and painfully dig into my ribs. Enraged, I turned around and saw the Kobold hunter drawing another arrow aimed at my chest. Evidently, the mesmerize effect had worn out and the Kobold was now gunning for my life. Quickly, I switched again to my trusty sword and shield, and cried the shrieks of battle at him, seriously hurting him and interrupting his second shot. I then closed to melee range and were quickly bringing him down to death, despite him having brought out his long spear. However, with a sliver of his health back, the Midgard healer healed my opponent to full health, and suddenly the tables were turned. I was low on health, fatigued from the long fight, and had no longer the strength to shout my battlecries at the foe. Within seconds, the insidious Kobold landed a mortal blow to my mid-section, and I felt my legs crumble beneath me under the intense pain, and the ground rushed up to embrace me.
(continued in reply)
]Vigilant eyes intent on the barren hills around them and finely-honed weapons loosened in their sheaths, the eight-man strong force of Shadowlords were once again patrolling the no man's land of Hadrian's Wall, the outmost frontier zone to the fair realm of Albion. This was hostile ground and we all knew it, in the past having encountered many enemies streaming into our land like a pestilence issuing from the stony maws of the two milegates making up the wall itself. The perilous situation of the powerful strength relics held deep in the near-impregnable keep of Castle Excalibur and the daily encroachments of invaders to prepare for an assault towards this keep had resulted in the Society keeping a strong presence in the Albion frontier, and today was no exception.
Your chronicler was leading this glorious force of Shadowlords, eight sunburst cloaks rippling powerfully in the chill wind. Speeded by my trusty drum and the beats of my motivational anthem, we were weaving our way towards the Hibernian milegate guarding the Hibernian teleport keep itself, having previously been alerted of enemy movements in the area. By my side was the trusty armsman Caranthir, his wicked a polearm seemingly an extension of his strong arms, as well as his battle brother Astardor, a long two-handed sword strapped to his broad back. The paladin Bernard, anointed by the Holy Church of Albion, brought up the rear, his weapon of choice also a fearsome two-hander, tempered by the death of countless invaders. Black-clad and hooded, the master scout Nibor padded along on silent feet, followed closely by stalwart Borni, clergyman and healer of the Church. The friar Orinoco, member of a more offensive branch of the Church and a holy man in himself, also numbered in the band, the nefarious Saracen infiltrator Malyss, her twin daggers sheathed within a heartbeat's time of drawing them, keeping a watchful eye on the surroundings.
As we neared the Hibernian milegate, which seemed quiet and abandoned, we got word of a large force of Midgard invaders passing the Midgard milegate and having dispatched of the Albion blocking group posted there. Quickly, the Shadowlords formed up on your chronicler, and I then proceeded to turn east and set course for the lone tower commanding an excellent view of the broken aqueduct cutting Hadrian's Wall in half. A Midgard force could not be allowed to run rampant in the Albion frontier and must be stopped before it did more harm. Preparing ourselves for battle, it was with no small trepidation we crested the last hill up to the tower itself.
And there, as we had hoped, was the Midgard force, a band of hulking Trolls, bearded Dwarfs, and snickering Kobolds. Now having spread out into attack formation in a wedge, the yellow-clad Shadowlords descended from the hill like the wrath of God into the right flank of the advancing Mid army. The enemy had little time to react. With a tremendous clash of arms, the two forces joined battle with each other.
Battle is chaos, as any experienced campaigner can tell you, and this battle was no exception. Your chronicler, knowing that my responsibility was to halt as many of the enemy attackers as possibly with my commanding cadence, immediately whipped out my flute and mesmerized the Dwarf runemaster preparing to cast one of his devastating spells. That threat temporarily disabled, I scrambled out of the fray and circled around to the rear of the battle. Spotting a Kobold hunter lining up a shot on me with his fearsome bow, I stunned the archer with a incapacitating shout and mesmerized this threat as well. However, as I turned around, searching for new targets to mesmerize, I was stunned to see Malyss attacking the Dwarf runemaster from stealth and being instantly mesmerized by the enemy healer. Casting my Speed of Sound spell to counter this and give Malyss time to withdraw, I drew my black-edged sword and charged the Dwarf to save her from his spells. However, I was too late, and was nearly thrown back by the shock wave as poor Malyss was burned to a crisp and fell to the ground.
Screaming in rage, I charged forward once more and cut into the Dwarf runemaster jeering at his victim. The smug smile on his bearded face quickly turned to a grimace of pain as my enchanted sword bit into his thin armor, and with a shout of triumph I was able to bring him to his knees and trample his broken body beneath my armored boots. However, my glee was cut short by the death cry of poor Borni, his powerful divine smites being unsufficient to counter the combined weight of two huge Trolls. Again sheathing my sword and biting back the grief of seeing our stalwart cleric being mutilated by these foul invaders, I brought out my flute and quickly mesmerized both Trolls.
However, scarcely had I put down my flute when I felt an arrow penetrate my armor and painfully dig into my ribs. Enraged, I turned around and saw the Kobold hunter drawing another arrow aimed at my chest. Evidently, the mesmerize effect had worn out and the Kobold was now gunning for my life. Quickly, I switched again to my trusty sword and shield, and cried the shrieks of battle at him, seriously hurting him and interrupting his second shot. I then closed to melee range and were quickly bringing him down to death, despite him having brought out his long spear. However, with a sliver of his health back, the Midgard healer healed my opponent to full health, and suddenly the tables were turned. I was low on health, fatigued from the long fight, and had no longer the strength to shout my battlecries at the foe. Within seconds, the insidious Kobold landed a mortal blow to my mid-section, and I felt my legs crumble beneath me under the intense pain, and the ground rushed up to embrace me.
(continued in reply)
