B
Belomar
Guest
[Note: Second part of my chronicle of the power relic raid, I really would have needed three parts. The rest of this part comes in a reply to this post.]
A lush Mount Collory basking in the afternoon sun. The rustle of plate armor, the labored breathing of an army moving at a forced march, the rhytmic tapping of minstrels' drums speeding crusaders south. Taken together, these signs can mean only one thing: The Albion spearhead is preparing to strike at the very heart of the Hibernian supremacy. The target is distant Dun Dagda, its age-old walls seeming to suck the very light from the air.
And what of your chronicler? Why, part of that strong army, of course, running side-by-side with Albion's most valorous champions, my heart thumping like a sledgehammer in my chest. All of us with a concentrated frown on our faces, easing our blades in their sheaths, preparing for the inevitable battle.
And to Dun Dagda we came. My heart skipped when it first reared its ugly head through the foggy distance to the south, and a sense of impending doom gripped me as it grew nearer. When Kcinimodus called a halt in the woods just shy of the steep slope leading up to the mighty keep looming above us, its overbearing presence seemed to cloud my entire mind and paralyze my limbs.
"Belomar Fleetfoot," Kcinimodus called out, her commanding voice easily carring over the muted hubbubb of the Albion force arraying out in a line formation. "Master minstrel, will you lure out the keep guards?"
"Of course, mylady," I replied with more calm than I felt, noting with relief that my voice didn't quaver as I broke the ranks and stepped forward. "At your command."
It was with great dread but also with a deep sense of pride that I took my place in front of the line of battle that was forming up. Despite the paralyzing fear I had experienced earlier, I now felt alert and in control, the adrenaline pumping through my veins lending my limbs strength and speed. As Kcinimodus gave the signal for me to proceed, an enthusiastic cheering went up among the attackers.
And so I ran.
Fleetfoot is my last name, and I can only thank my fleety feet for being here today and not littering the bloodied slopes of Dun Dagda. Even as I sped uphill towards the towering keep, my powerful music carrying me on its wings, I could feel strong magic zeroing in on me. Populating the heavily reinforced battlements of the Dun were Master Eldritches ready to pour fire on any hapless enemy below, and patrolling on the grounds in front of the keep were the elite guardians sent from the neighboring keeps. As I crested the slope and came face-to-face with the growling visages of these supernaturally strong Hibernians, I knew instantly that my lure had succeeded and I turned back towards the main army below, the guardians hot on my tail. Dodging the fiery fireballs cast at me from the eldritches above, I was able to lead the charging guards right into the arms of the waiting Albion army.
The battle was brief but bloody. None of the Hibernian guardians died without single-handedly felling a score of Albion attackers, and reinforcements arriving from the neighboring keeps wreaked further havoc among the Albion ranks. Soon, however, I had been able to lure down all the guards from their posts around the keep and the army was given the command to approach the keep and deploy the rams.
Speed was now of the essence. Although Mallus' earlier reports of an undefended Dun Dagda had been confirmed by the main army itself, it was inevitable that the raid would soon be discovered and a defensive force arrive to try and thwart our plans. The various guilds, having been carefully instructed by Wildfire of their respective tasks, quickly took up their appointed positions around the keep. A large force was stationed along the north and east walls of the keep with the task of killing the guard reinforcements that were continuously arriving at Dagda. Albion mages, escorted by heavily-armored paladins and armsmen, were prowling the outskirts of the keep grounds and kept a vigilant lookout for the Hibernian eldritches that from time to time appeared on the battlements of the keep and called down rivers of flame on the assault force. Clerics were also moving in the crowd, mending injuries and reviving the fallen. And on the western door, the main breaching point of the raid, was the main assault force, the first five siege rams already going up on the outer keep door.
Your chronicler, as part of the Shadowlords Society ram team, was stationed with the main breaching force on the western door of Dagda, and I spent most of my time wandering among my fellow realm members trying to inspire valor and courage with my trusty instruments and deep baritone. It was a thoroughly uplifting experience to see the champions of Albion there, fighting shoulder to shoulder. Here was Sabu, the strong paladin of the Guardia Dolorosa, rallying his guild members around him, and over there the flamboyant Zoyster, wizard of the Guardians of Light. Beneath the gate was Wildfire himself, his First Cohort brethren arrayed protectively around his frail shape, and next to him the cleric Tiarta Warmaiden of the Dragon Knights, her holy lightning smiting the foes with divine might. Blue-clad and white-cloaked, the warriors of the Defectu Virum Elite fought valiantly together with the Ferus Legionis, the infiltrator Marrah of that guild wielding twin daggers with expert skill. The strong armsman Glottis Xanadu, the black-taloned gryphon of The Brethren undulating on his cloak, lent his strong arms to suppressing the Hibernian guards, and by his side stood the crimson-cloaked Centuri of the Keepers of the Light, calmly commanding his guild members despite the near-chaotic conditions. Aye, the armsman Huma of the Herfolge Boldklub was also part of that proud army, and with him was the battle-scarred Falcor, armsman of Equilibrium. I was also happy to see Appollo Creed in his purple-colored cloak marking his allegiance to The Royal Guard, as well as the forest green attire of the paladin Thamiel Heartbreaker of The Dragon-Fighters. Aye, the number of participating guilds was really too great for me to remember them all, but I could not help but noticing the crooked shape of good-natured Elfslayer of the Crusaders of Albion who had also turned up for the raid. Aye, the strength of Albion surely shone strong this day!
Despite the impressive show of Albion force, we all felt that we were living on borrowed time and that the Hibernian vanguard could appear from Druim Cain to the west at any time. Therefore, it was with considerable relief that I saw the outer keep gate give in and collapse, its ancient wood splintering with a tremendous crash. Within seconds, the second ram team pushed through and began assembling the siege rams on the inner door. Meanwhile, the Shadowlords force rallied around the paladin Justinian to prepare for breaking through into the keep grounds proper. The Society had been charged with building two rams on the third and final door, and it was imperative that all rampart carriers were close and poised for immediate action.
When the second gate crashed open, swinging precariously on tortured hinges, I could scarely believe the hand Fortune had played us. The Albion army was now entering the supposedly impenetrable Dun Dagda itself, and the Hibernian army had yet to show up and try to stop us! Following the Albion shock troops massing through the gaping gates and into the keep courtyard, I was greeted by the sight of yellow-cloaked Shadowlords already standing by the third and final keep gate, busily assembling siege rams, and my spirit soared with pride. The Society would not be found wanting on this raid!
Most of the Albion main force was now gathered inside Dun Dagda's courtyard, rampaging through its halls and looting its ascetic barracks. The final ram teams were working quickly to get the rams up, and within a few minutes, the mighty pounding of the hulking siege engines resumed, their beaks tearing into the blackened wood of the Hibernian gate. At the same time, the armies of the Black Falcons and the Legion of Darkness, each having secured Dun Dagda and Dun Bolg respectively, arrived to bolster the main army at the keep.
However, scarely had the siege engineers begun their work before the call went up among the attackers: "Enemy spotted!" And boiling across the lush meadows of Mount Collory like a black plague, the enemy came.
"Hold the line!" Kcinimodus barked, her voice filled with the tones of command. "We cannot fall!"
And hold the line we did. As the Hibernian vanguard reached the foot of the mighty hill of Dun Dagda, the Albion defensive force arrayed inside the courtyard of the keep streamed out through its broken gates and charged downhill. With the righteous wrath of vengeance, the Albion army met the Hibernian one on the slopes of Dagda, and the collective growl of the Albion attackers was deafening. Within seconds, broken Hibernian corpses were littered everywhere in front of the keep while the Albion force continued to push forward, cutting bloody swaths through the second enemy wave.
At that precise moment, the final gate was bashed open. Dun Dagda, once viewed as the most powerful keep in all the realms, had been broken, its innermost sanctum violated. The sound of Albion boots ascending its steep staircase to the relic room above echoed mournfully, as if the keep itself protested against this sacrilege.
[continued in reply]
A lush Mount Collory basking in the afternoon sun. The rustle of plate armor, the labored breathing of an army moving at a forced march, the rhytmic tapping of minstrels' drums speeding crusaders south. Taken together, these signs can mean only one thing: The Albion spearhead is preparing to strike at the very heart of the Hibernian supremacy. The target is distant Dun Dagda, its age-old walls seeming to suck the very light from the air.
And what of your chronicler? Why, part of that strong army, of course, running side-by-side with Albion's most valorous champions, my heart thumping like a sledgehammer in my chest. All of us with a concentrated frown on our faces, easing our blades in their sheaths, preparing for the inevitable battle.
And to Dun Dagda we came. My heart skipped when it first reared its ugly head through the foggy distance to the south, and a sense of impending doom gripped me as it grew nearer. When Kcinimodus called a halt in the woods just shy of the steep slope leading up to the mighty keep looming above us, its overbearing presence seemed to cloud my entire mind and paralyze my limbs.
"Belomar Fleetfoot," Kcinimodus called out, her commanding voice easily carring over the muted hubbubb of the Albion force arraying out in a line formation. "Master minstrel, will you lure out the keep guards?"
"Of course, mylady," I replied with more calm than I felt, noting with relief that my voice didn't quaver as I broke the ranks and stepped forward. "At your command."
It was with great dread but also with a deep sense of pride that I took my place in front of the line of battle that was forming up. Despite the paralyzing fear I had experienced earlier, I now felt alert and in control, the adrenaline pumping through my veins lending my limbs strength and speed. As Kcinimodus gave the signal for me to proceed, an enthusiastic cheering went up among the attackers.
And so I ran.
Fleetfoot is my last name, and I can only thank my fleety feet for being here today and not littering the bloodied slopes of Dun Dagda. Even as I sped uphill towards the towering keep, my powerful music carrying me on its wings, I could feel strong magic zeroing in on me. Populating the heavily reinforced battlements of the Dun were Master Eldritches ready to pour fire on any hapless enemy below, and patrolling on the grounds in front of the keep were the elite guardians sent from the neighboring keeps. As I crested the slope and came face-to-face with the growling visages of these supernaturally strong Hibernians, I knew instantly that my lure had succeeded and I turned back towards the main army below, the guardians hot on my tail. Dodging the fiery fireballs cast at me from the eldritches above, I was able to lead the charging guards right into the arms of the waiting Albion army.
The battle was brief but bloody. None of the Hibernian guardians died without single-handedly felling a score of Albion attackers, and reinforcements arriving from the neighboring keeps wreaked further havoc among the Albion ranks. Soon, however, I had been able to lure down all the guards from their posts around the keep and the army was given the command to approach the keep and deploy the rams.
Speed was now of the essence. Although Mallus' earlier reports of an undefended Dun Dagda had been confirmed by the main army itself, it was inevitable that the raid would soon be discovered and a defensive force arrive to try and thwart our plans. The various guilds, having been carefully instructed by Wildfire of their respective tasks, quickly took up their appointed positions around the keep. A large force was stationed along the north and east walls of the keep with the task of killing the guard reinforcements that were continuously arriving at Dagda. Albion mages, escorted by heavily-armored paladins and armsmen, were prowling the outskirts of the keep grounds and kept a vigilant lookout for the Hibernian eldritches that from time to time appeared on the battlements of the keep and called down rivers of flame on the assault force. Clerics were also moving in the crowd, mending injuries and reviving the fallen. And on the western door, the main breaching point of the raid, was the main assault force, the first five siege rams already going up on the outer keep door.
Your chronicler, as part of the Shadowlords Society ram team, was stationed with the main breaching force on the western door of Dagda, and I spent most of my time wandering among my fellow realm members trying to inspire valor and courage with my trusty instruments and deep baritone. It was a thoroughly uplifting experience to see the champions of Albion there, fighting shoulder to shoulder. Here was Sabu, the strong paladin of the Guardia Dolorosa, rallying his guild members around him, and over there the flamboyant Zoyster, wizard of the Guardians of Light. Beneath the gate was Wildfire himself, his First Cohort brethren arrayed protectively around his frail shape, and next to him the cleric Tiarta Warmaiden of the Dragon Knights, her holy lightning smiting the foes with divine might. Blue-clad and white-cloaked, the warriors of the Defectu Virum Elite fought valiantly together with the Ferus Legionis, the infiltrator Marrah of that guild wielding twin daggers with expert skill. The strong armsman Glottis Xanadu, the black-taloned gryphon of The Brethren undulating on his cloak, lent his strong arms to suppressing the Hibernian guards, and by his side stood the crimson-cloaked Centuri of the Keepers of the Light, calmly commanding his guild members despite the near-chaotic conditions. Aye, the armsman Huma of the Herfolge Boldklub was also part of that proud army, and with him was the battle-scarred Falcor, armsman of Equilibrium. I was also happy to see Appollo Creed in his purple-colored cloak marking his allegiance to The Royal Guard, as well as the forest green attire of the paladin Thamiel Heartbreaker of The Dragon-Fighters. Aye, the number of participating guilds was really too great for me to remember them all, but I could not help but noticing the crooked shape of good-natured Elfslayer of the Crusaders of Albion who had also turned up for the raid. Aye, the strength of Albion surely shone strong this day!
Despite the impressive show of Albion force, we all felt that we were living on borrowed time and that the Hibernian vanguard could appear from Druim Cain to the west at any time. Therefore, it was with considerable relief that I saw the outer keep gate give in and collapse, its ancient wood splintering with a tremendous crash. Within seconds, the second ram team pushed through and began assembling the siege rams on the inner door. Meanwhile, the Shadowlords force rallied around the paladin Justinian to prepare for breaking through into the keep grounds proper. The Society had been charged with building two rams on the third and final door, and it was imperative that all rampart carriers were close and poised for immediate action.
When the second gate crashed open, swinging precariously on tortured hinges, I could scarely believe the hand Fortune had played us. The Albion army was now entering the supposedly impenetrable Dun Dagda itself, and the Hibernian army had yet to show up and try to stop us! Following the Albion shock troops massing through the gaping gates and into the keep courtyard, I was greeted by the sight of yellow-cloaked Shadowlords already standing by the third and final keep gate, busily assembling siege rams, and my spirit soared with pride. The Society would not be found wanting on this raid!
Most of the Albion main force was now gathered inside Dun Dagda's courtyard, rampaging through its halls and looting its ascetic barracks. The final ram teams were working quickly to get the rams up, and within a few minutes, the mighty pounding of the hulking siege engines resumed, their beaks tearing into the blackened wood of the Hibernian gate. At the same time, the armies of the Black Falcons and the Legion of Darkness, each having secured Dun Dagda and Dun Bolg respectively, arrived to bolster the main army at the keep.
However, scarely had the siege engineers begun their work before the call went up among the attackers: "Enemy spotted!" And boiling across the lush meadows of Mount Collory like a black plague, the enemy came.
"Hold the line!" Kcinimodus barked, her voice filled with the tones of command. "We cannot fall!"
And hold the line we did. As the Hibernian vanguard reached the foot of the mighty hill of Dun Dagda, the Albion defensive force arrayed inside the courtyard of the keep streamed out through its broken gates and charged downhill. With the righteous wrath of vengeance, the Albion army met the Hibernian one on the slopes of Dagda, and the collective growl of the Albion attackers was deafening. Within seconds, broken Hibernian corpses were littered everywhere in front of the keep while the Albion force continued to push forward, cutting bloody swaths through the second enemy wave.
At that precise moment, the final gate was bashed open. Dun Dagda, once viewed as the most powerful keep in all the realms, had been broken, its innermost sanctum violated. The sound of Albion boots ascending its steep staircase to the relic room above echoed mournfully, as if the keep itself protested against this sacrilege.
[continued in reply]
our relic