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Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Fri Jul 25, 2014 8:52 pm
by Marchosias
The scouts, positive that this opportunity was the best they could have hoped for, decided to set things in motion. First, they had to talk to Incaneth who was leading the main corsair corpse.
“This is indeed a good opportunity you are describing,” he concurred. “And we are lucky the other scouting party is still quite near. I would rather not fight without their aid as they have already proven their worth. Should I send a quick runner or can you reach them in a faster way?”

“Incaneth,” said Hendor who had meanwhile arrived together with the other mercenaries. “You sure you're in the right shape for fighting? You seemed quite bad back on the ship.”
The first officer shrugged. “I am quite sure I am not in a good shape. It will have to suffice, though. I will try to stay out of trouble. It is enough that Kireth has to stay on the ship. At least one of us should be present in a big fight like this.”
He threw a quick glance at the bard listening nearby and commanded in a slightly louder voice: “Enough wasting time. We move further down the road and assault the humans right away. The weather will be our friend. Caraoc will signal with his horn and then we will shower them with crossbow bolts from both sides of the road. After that, we will see. Drawing them to the wood would be perfect.” He looked the gathered elves over. “Unless someone has an idea for a better distraction, of course.”
Then they got moving and soon, they were already awaiting their foe. The other scouting group had not arrived yet but there was some time for them still.
Only a few moments were remaining before a bloodbath.

Preparations for the assault.

[Not much happening here as I think it would be bad to start the fight and immediately leave for two weeks. Therefore, I decided to split the mod post. The attack will begin when I return which should be on the 10th of August.]

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2014 10:01 am
by Marchosias
The elves were prepared, lying on both sides of the road with crossbows ready. Incaneth was observing the human convoy moving slowly forwards with his hand up and eyes unmoving; meanwhile, the corsairs were studying their foes. The humans seemed dull, mostly; only a few of them were looking around with a bit more attention and even they lacked any enthusiasm. It was not hard to remain hidden from their eyes.
Then Incaneth gave the signal and Caraoc blew his horn, focusing his mind on the fright and mayhem the sound was expected to cause. The human soldiers, caught by surprise and overpowered by a sudden outburst of fear, drew their weapons and closed their ranks tighter. Their horses started to neigh and rise on hind legs in panic; one cavalryman fell down, the others had their hands full trying to stay in the saddle.
Then, a volley of crossbow bolts struck them and several humans fell to the ground. The attackers made no sound, however; therefore, the cries of pain and call of the horn were even easier to hear.

Then, after just a brief moment, the human commanders started to shout orders. The humans gained firmer stance again and grasped their weapons with new determination. When the second volley of crossbow bolts came, they were ready and did by no means shake. Only two of them fell, as the bolts were often stopped by armour and shields. On the soldiers' faces, unyielding hatred emerged.

On one of the wagons, the canvas went down and revealed three more soldiers and a strange construction out of which protruded many metal tubes, aiming menacingly at the elves. The humans on the cart were working in a hurry as they were reaching for muskets hidden somewhere under the canvas and distributing them among the nearest comrades. The soldiers armed with guns kneeled and aimed, their companions protected them with shields. The canvas on other carts went down, too, and some humans with crossbows jumped inside and used the wooden planks as cover. Soon, one of the guns fired and dug a deep hole in a tree behind which Ladry was hiding. Other shooters were waiting, though, and preparing themselves for a big salvo.

The convoy is being attacked at last!
The initial salvos of crossbow bolts killed a few humans but their armour is protecting them well. The elves are right now reloading.
The humans are preparing for a shooting contest: they are trying to hide behind shields or use the carts as cover and aim their crossbows and muskets.
On two of the carts, only some bags and cases are to see. However, on the one in the rear, some weird construction consisting of many metal tubes is being carried. On the same wagon, a number of muskets was carried.
The horses are panicking. One rider has fallen already, the others are fighting to regain control over their mounts.
Kruz, Kirvaleth and Analya are still away but they should arrive soon. Hopefully.

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2014 10:13 am
by Thraundil
Excitement caught Ladry as the elves lay in ambush. She was hiding out of sight behind a tree, gathering her energies carefully. It was not yet time. If they have a magus, I must not give away my presence she mused, and just then, Caraoc blew his horn. The noise was loud and piercing, and the effect was obvious immediately. Panicked humans and even more panicked beasts, and the first salvo of crossbow bolts were fired with no more sound than the twangs of the bows snapping. Humans fell dying to the ground, but the commanders quickly barked at the foot sloggers, and they closed ranks. It was time. But then Ladry saw something that made her doubt. A war machine of sorts was revealed inside one of the carts. Clever humans! Well played. she thought, before a thundering sound saw a large chunk blown out of the tree in front of her. Had they spotted her, or was that a chance shot? Best not to dwell on it too much, she thought. That machine could very well be an organ gun; she had read about them, once. It was aparently capable of inflicting massed casualties against packed formations. But they where not packed, not by no means. And another small flaw it had... It would operate using black powder.

Gathering everything she had in her, Ladry waited for the other elves to make a move before side stepping out from behind the tree, willing a massive ball of fire into existence and intent on hurling it toward the wagon carrying the war machine.

Ladry prepares herself, waiting for the other elves to fire their crossbows again (she doesnt want to present herself as the only target) then sidesteps out from behind her cover, attempting to hurl fiery death against the operators of the metal tube device before quickly diving for cover again.

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2014 8:10 pm
by Searinox Nagharha
Searinox awaited the attack eagerly his chain still wrapped around his left arm to throw and wrap around a victim the moment he got within range. All he needed was a chance to close the distance.
After the initial salvo of bolts he turned his head around the tree he was hiding behind, what he saw did not amuse him at all.
While the first attack had felled a few humans, thanks to the commander the second did only little damage. Not only that, but the panic that was running through there ranks were quickly calmed by him, as well as a counter attack formed.

At the sight of seeing one of the bullets blast a hole in the tree Ladry was hiding behind Searinox realised that if all of those gunners would unload there wouldn't be much left of the tree's they were standing behind. Let alone after the dangerous contraption on the last cart would start shooting.

'Come on, how did that prayer go...' He grabbed towards his chest reaching for a pendant beneath his shirt.
"Ladrielle, let the powers of my adversaries be rendered impotent in thou name. Let their aim be crooked and their minds clouded." Superstitious as he was Searinox believed that the prayers would protect them, or at the very least himself.
As he exhaled deeply to keep his focus he decided to try and divert atleast some of the attention, if he recalled correct his father had once told him that while those firearms where potent they are hard to aim and take a long time to reload.

Using his speed and stealth he made his way closer to the edge of the forest and the rear caravan, hoping to get a few cheap shots in on the warmachine with his throwing knives before the fire fight would start.

uttering a prayer for protection
closing in on the caravan using Basic Stealth
getting ready to assault the warmachine should the opportunity arise.

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2014 9:02 pm
by Calisson
As he received the signal, Caraoc emptied his lungs into the antler.
The mournful howl of the horn suddenly tore the cold and humid atmosphere. Even the falling drops of water seemed to want to escape the path of malignant sound waves.
Beasts of burden, numb with cold and wet, raised a frantic head and rushed into their stretchers.
In no time, a hail of bolts converged onto the convoy, and blood started to taint wet clothes.

Not far from him, the Astromancer could feel a twist in the Winds of Magic. Ladry was harnessing all she could from Aqshy. That was smart, it would certainly cause more destruction and terror on the Human side.

Time for action! :twisted:
But... :? What kind of action?

Lying on the ground, hidden behind fern, the pilot could see that the Humans were seasoned professionals, hardly impressed by the loss of a couple of them and the panic in their mounts.
Worse, they had a large supply of metallic tubes, which were soon bound to throw their deadly bullets with a bad smell and a small cloud.

In a shooting contest, the Elves benefitted from being well hidden; however, the Humans were carrying their cover along with them, either wooden planks or metallic armour. Would the situation last longer, few more losses would be to expect on either side and it could take a while before any side would get a significant advantage.

The stalemate would be solved if the Elves could penetrate their opponent's armours, and avoid their bullets.
For that, the scald could provide a subtle help, by Cursing the Humans with the Midnight Wind.
Yeah... the Midnight Wind... The weather is perfectly appropriate for that curse! :killed:

With a mad smile, the scald started singing the fatal song, taunting loudly the Humans into despair, and rejoicing the Elves.
He would just need to lower the head whenever a musket would aim too close at him.

I blew my horn in the night and I didn't mean to stay
We found you just at closing time at the Alamo Curfew
And the way we smiled and carried on it kinda made our day
So by the time that you left we fight with yer
And yer let ours borrow money and yer let capture yer car
Yer didn't really trust ours but yer done and gone too far

When the midnight bolt is shooting when it's shooting down the way
Well if it blew in on the midnight wind yer may never pass this way again

We knew down in ours heart that yer would only stay awhile
And sometimes yer was a dead man and sometimes yer was afraid
Then just about the time that we were learning how to smile
Your musket right yer came up missing
And sometimes now yer think you hear ours footsteps cross the floor
But it's just that midnight wind howling around yer soul

When the midnight bolt is shooting when it's shooting down the way
Well if it blew in on the midnight wind yer may never pass this way again...

Cursing the Humans with the Midnight Wind.

OOC: Charlie Daniels Band - Midnight Wind
Lyrics: ... twind.html
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (20 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak, cutlass
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn, sunstone, sextant and set of navigational instruments; 20 gold + share.+ Book (On the boundary between life and death)
Skills: Power of Azyr (2) Power of Ghur (1), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Wed Aug 20, 2014 7:44 pm
by Marchosias

It was a good feeling, to march into a fight, with a strong force of disciplined elves. To wield the draich again and know this time there were others to count on. To belong somewhere once more, to have a commander's voice turning to his ears, the yelled instructions comforting as it meant there was someone giving them all a purpose. It was stirring pleasant memories.

They were feared and admired, their long draichs and expressionless masks, their discipline and determination, their finesse and strength. Every general longed for their help and was prepared to pay with gold and favours to get a regiment under his command. They obliged their hag queen commanders, joined the frays all over the world and butchered peasants, knights and monsters alike. It was glorious. It was the best of life concentrated in just a few years.

The rain and mud did not bother him as he had seen worse. Neither was he frightened by the humans. Then, however, one of the carts unravelled a warmachine previously hidden and suddenly, a different memory emerged – one he hoped he had drown in wine long, long ago.

The sky was the colour of steel and the humans looked puny and vulnerable in their position. Their blue standard was hardly visible against the clouds and trumpets were unable to pierce the dense air. The elven host was confidently marching ahead, unstoppable, unforgiving.
Then, however, a new kind of drums spoke out, drums with metal barrels filled with gunpowder. Many voices shouted out in pain; many warriors fell to the ground immediately; a shot smashed the shoulder of the man in front of him and his blood stained Paithan's armour long before an actual fight. The commander fell silent, too many of them were lying on the ground and the humans were preparing for another volley; his best friends were suffering terribly, one with a hole in lungs, second with a bloodied stub in place of his leg, another was missing half his face. They looked abandoned on the battlefield, puny and vulnerable, their standards were far away with other regiments. Then someone shouted, We are sitting ducks here! and they ran as they could; and a group of pistoliers raced to hunt them down.
The battle was a disaster then and many other elves died, as the warriors of Har Ganeth were not there to support them. From the executioners themselves, only a few returned to the camp. Their battalion has never been built anew.

Paithan was observing the siege weapon with a growing determination. Once again they were aiming at his friends, intent of destroying everything and everyone. But now, he was not going to run.

“Blood for Khaine!” he shouted while leaping forwards, his draich sweeping in broad circles. The damned guns were just a few steps before him. The others might have underestimated the danger but he would not.

Paithan, dreading the might of the warmachine and determined to wash away his shame, charges in.

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Wed Aug 20, 2014 7:45 pm
by Marchosias
The elves, confident their cover will protect them, were staying in place. There was only one shadow who left the forest and leapt forwards, the mask-wearing, fearful figure of the khainite. With two quick swings of his blade, he chased the humans in front of him away; then the path was clear to the cart itself. The elf jumped up while his draich drew another wide bow; he had to wield it in one hand only as the other was helping him go up but even so, the human backed away and was barely able to block.

Then, finally, he was standing on the cart, with the warmachine right in front of him. One of the crew was still finding balance after Paithan's attack and another was just staring at him in disbelief. The third one, however, a scarred man with a short beard and spiky hair, was wielding a flaming torch.

The two soldiers exchanged looks. The elf could have maybe escaped if he threw himself down from the wagon again. The torch was slowly descending.

On Paithan's face, however, a disdainful smile appeared. He just turned to the side slightly and decapitated the staring human with one last gracious blow. There was no strength in the movement, no rush or hesitation; it was the smooth and precise strike that is the mark of true masters.

Then the torch touched the pistols, they thundered deafeningly and covered Paithan in a cloud of smoke.

No bullet reached the elves in the forest.


Searinox was approaching the war machine as quickly as he could. When the torch began to descend, a knife was already flying towards the human wielding it. It struck true, cutting the back where he was only protected by leather armouring; sadly, despite the artilleryman cried in pain he was still able to put the thunder in motion.

The nobleelf quickly drew another knife to finish the human off but then he saw another target as a few yards from the hellblaster, he spotted a pair of soldiers: one, with long bronze hair and a thin mustache, was aiming somewhere in the forest while another, with equally bronze hair and a necklace of the same colour, was holding a loaded gun, prepared to hand it over. Searinox decided to kill that marksman first – the warmachine was out of play for a while, after all – and threw another knife. This time, the blade hit the face and caused a nasty bleeding out of the shooter's temple. He lost balance and his gun went off without effect.


Caraoc was singing loudly, dancing in plain sight of the humans. Once he had jumped out of cover a crossbow bolt flew towards him but it missed his shoulder by a good margin. Then, an angry-looking musketeer aimed in his direction; this time Caraoc duck quickly and the shot shattered a branch just behind him. He felt the magic energy gathering, empowering his legs in his wild dance and clouding the fate of humans; he was breathing heavily but he did not feel winded or fatigued at all.


Ladry was collecting the power maybe for a little longer than necessary but the shape of her spell was perfect. The globe of fire flew swiftly right over the machine, then exploded in a blinding eruption of light. One of the humans was caught in the flames and quickly turned to a smouldering corpse; the other, the one with the torch, was blown over the railing and fell down, probably not dead, but hurt once more. Then the flames found some of the gunpowder kegs and there was a new explosion that scattered burning splinters all around. The smaller parts of the machine were melted down and the wooden bits caught fire. Even the cart itself was damaged and it was obvious the machine was not going to shoot again this fight.


The humans were quickly recovering from surprise and beginning to act. Two soldiers left cover and ran to the panicking horses of the armoured riders and grabbed their bridles; this helped to calm the animals down and the cavalrymen were now able to act again. The man in hat and cloak slid down from his mount and tumbled away, leaving the horse to run away. Then he drew a sabre that had been previously hidden under his cloak and looked around where he could join the fight. The last rider even managed to seize control over his horse on his own; he stirred the mount and it carried him, albeit in an unsteady step, to the men in plates.

The other soldiers were finally prepared to shoot bach. In a glorious thunder matching the sound of their war machine, their weapons fired almost at once. Most of the shots were stopped by the trees, however, and no blood flew on the elven side except for a few minor injuries. Some angry cries were heard but then the sword-wielding rider shouted: “Zungreil! Schals puhn seuch!”
The man by his side joined promptly: “Drahn el Mindel! Sigmar mollt mies!”
On the faces of the remaining humans, a longing for battle and blood appeared. With a loud battle cry, the soldiers grabbed their weapons and ran towards the wood.

Hellblaster destroyed. Gunpowder salvo largely inefficient. The humans are charging to fight at close distance. Some corsairs are preparing for one more quick shot, others are unsheathing steel weapons.
The two plated riders have calmed down their horses. One horseman is riding to them, another has already fallen down. The last rider, the one with a hat, jumped down voluntarily and drawed a sabre. There are no other mounted humans present.
Caraoc: spell successful. One musketeer seems to be exceptionally angry at you and is running in your direction. Other humans do not pay you much attention.
Ladry: hellblaster rendered useless. One crewman dead, the other is burning. No immediate threats.
Searinox: the warmachine cannot be destroyed by all of you so I found you another target instead. The marksman is hurt and blood is getting into his eyes.
Harkyl: hidden behind a tree with his weapons ready.
There is no exceptional activity on the side of the elves.

Basically, you can either describe a foe that is running towards you and fight him (with any result you wish), or you can avoid the fight (which will be easy for all except Caraoc) and do something else.

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Thu Aug 21, 2014 12:31 pm
by Thraundil
As Ladry summoned her energy, the other corsairs sprung into action. Caraocs mocking song was heard loud and clear amongst the trees, accompanied by the heavy drop of rain and the shouts of human commanders. The humans were starting to get organised. Just as she could feel her power peaking, she spun arund her tree and out of cover. Thats when she saw Paithan. Masked, bold, reckless even. His strikes carried the surgical precision of the towers of Har Ganeth, and several humans fled before his charge. She saw him assault the war machine alone. She saw the chief gunner lower his torch, and she heard the thunderous crack and saw the wagon fill with smoke. "PAITHAN!" she cried out, and let loose all her power. The flames engulfed the gunwagon, and a second thunderous explosion shook the forest as barrels of gunpowder detonated. Satisfied with the glurious flames, she decided her own life was worth more than the risk of helping the Khainite. His choice was his own to make, and she duck back into cover as a salvo of muskets fired. Several bullets struck the tree in front of her, and a small trail of blood on her left forearm revealed a superficial cut.

The human commander then shouted a command, and the foot soldiers charged into the forest. Good, let them come to us. The humans where fools, but then, they had little option left to them. Drawing on the remaining anguish of the charred corpse she had created, she drew the sword Paithan and Dolan had reshaped for her. It was shorter and more nimble now, and with an effort the blade burst into flames. The first human to spot her carried a halberd. Ladry smiled. The few times the black guard had visited her former home, they had drilled the children ruthlessly. She knew how to play at this game. When the human lunged forward, hoping to end the fight swiftly, Ladry sidestepped the assault and spun around her opponent. Get close to him, render his reach useless and turn it against him! She parried the next few strikes, then opened up with an assault of her own. Striking hard and fast at the humans forward hand, he was soon forced to hold his weapon up to protect his arms. It was not long before an opening presented itself. Ladry pressed her adversary up against a tree, and without the range offered by his long weapon, he was all but disarmed. His face did not ask for mercy. And she did not give mercy. The wound barely bled at all, as the flames cauterised the damaged flesh, and the young farmers boy fell to the ground with beady eyes now berift of life. Ladry turned around and looked to her next target, feeding on the still-fresh pain, terror and determination all around her to fuel the fires.

Using a flaming blade and brawling techniques of the past to defeat a halbardier. If her comrades require assistance, Ladry wishes to use the pain and terror of each dying victim to feed the next spell.

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 9:58 pm
by Calisson
The subtle power provided by Azyr had increased the Elves' accuracy and had caused the Humans to become clumsy.
Confident in his fate, the scald even stood up and danced his mockery at his reluctant public. Their boos and hisses did not affect him, nor their bolts and bullets.
In the Human ranks, a cart exploded when Ladry's fireball hit it, causing havoc and confusion.
However, several of the Humans were certainly elite soldiers - no surprise considering what they were escorting - and they rallied and countercharged resolutely.

One of the Humans rushed towards the scald, shouting and yelling in a guttural language. He looked like he had been offended by the song, or worse.
Even before he realized that he was going to be assaulted by that man, Caraoc felt in his veins some strange impulse. That was the power of Ghur trying to take control over him through his crudest instincts. But that was too early! The astromancer needed to keep singing his Midnight Curse for as long as he could, as it would benefit all Elve's shooting, his own included. He concentrated on the song.
Caraoc seized his trusted handbow, only regretting not to have a pair of it, and shot methodically at the Human.
The handbow release was following the song's beats:
"When the midnight bolt [shtook!] is shooting [shtook!] when it's shooting [shtook!] down the way[shtook!]..."
and the bolts were following the sound waves towards their target, like if the handbow had been married to the song and they would commonly release their offspring made of tunes and steel.

Stand & shoot while keeping singing the spell "Curse of the Midnight Wind".
Caraoc will sing as long as he can, hopefully killing with handbow any Human coming to close.
He will not use his horn again unless the mounted knights charge.
If a Human arrives too close and forces Caraoc to defend himself in close combat, he will cease his Azyr song and let Ghur take control.

Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (20 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak, cutlass
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn, sunstone, sextant and set of navigational instruments; 20 gold + share.+ Book (On the boundary between life and death)
Skills: Power of Azyr (2) Power of Ghur (1), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Wed Aug 27, 2014 5:35 pm
by Searinox Nagharha
Even with his fast reflexes Searinox wasn't able to stop the war machine from firing, resulting in Pathian taking the full volley.
'Blast! That blood thirsty Khainite...' Yet he had no time to linger, for several of the rifleman where making ready to shoot into the forest. With a fiery roar the war machine was taken out of commission, atleast for not it seemed. Searinox quickly turned his attention to the rifleman, not to far away from him he spotted two preparing to fire. One was the shooter while the other seemed to be on reloading duty. 'I'll get atleast him before I reveal myself.' With a quick fluid motion he turned around to the other side of the tree and threw a knife towards the shooter. The blade slit alongside the humans face and caused a nasty bleed to cover his eyes and throw him off balance. 'Now that one is out of commission aswell,"

His attention then quickly turned to the man with the hat, clearly he as the leader, taking him out would result in a lose of morale for the humans. Not only that but from his posture he seemed to be looking for a fight aswell. 'I hope he'll be a good challenge.' With a grin on his face he made his way towards the hatted man. Using the cover of the forest to remain hidden for aslong as possible. As he closed in he grabbed his last throwing knife, and let the chain around his left arm veer a bit. 'I'll have to make this one count.' All he needed was one opening, one chance. With it, he would distract the human with his throwing knife and then throw the chain towards him in such a manner as to grapple his sabre.

Moving in towards the hatted man while remaining Hidden and will wait until the chance arrises to attack him.

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Sun Aug 31, 2014 10:05 am
by Marchosias
The human must have been mad to attack Ladry. With a flaming sword matching her hair of fire, a self-confident smile and eagerness to battle in her eyes she was probably the most frightening elf in the battle. Still, he tried to attack her with a few quick, forceful swings of his halberd. Ladry escaped, though, and soon the human was leaning on a tree with no way to defend himself.

In the heat of battle she did not pay too much attention to the winds of magic – Caraoc was disturbing them quite heavily, after all – and so the first burst of power surprised her. One of the riders, the one with a hammer, cried out and awoke a strong wave of unseen energy that spread far and clung to the fighting humans. It was similar to light magic but bore strong undertones of stalwartness, resilience and hatred.

“Sigmar, moll mienere Fehben!”

Ladry grasped for the magical energy herself but in her surprise, she was too slow. From now on, however, she was to observe this man closely.


Caraoc danced like a drunken madman, kept singing and played his handbow as accompaniment. He felt he could do all this things easily at once, and indeed, the bolts were flying surely in his adversary's direction. The human was trying to duck, however, and Lady Luck was clearly on his side: one bolt pierced a branch in front of him, another flew just a tiny bit over his head; from the two that hit, one bounced off the man's helmet. Only one arrow pierced the armour and remained in the attacker's side but it was probably only a flesh wound as the man was not slowed in the slightest. Then the musketeer was at Caraoc, raising the gunstock to strike the elf forcefully.

“Sigmar, mahn Mindel mienerem Zungreil!” The shouts of the armoured hammer-wielder were easily to hear. Like Ladry, Caraoc was able to feel the spells that were somehow emerging in the voice. He failed to react to the first one and now, as another chant was forming, he was preoccupied with the attacking musketeer. Then, however, he felt a powerful burst of energy that shattered the new spell to pieces and he could easily imagine Ladry smiling in satisfaction.


The hatted man, with a sabre in hand, breathed in and called, in a crude accent but a bright and piercing voice:

“Will anyone fight me? Or are you even weaker than women from Ulthuan?”

He was turning around, seeking for a worthy foe and awaiting a response. When the disgraced noble emerged from his hiding among the trees, the human's eyes sparkled. He saluted the elf with his weapon and changed position to a slightly lazy guard.

Searinox closed to him cautiously, weighing carefully their distance; all the while he was feeling the inspective eyes of his adversary on him, studying his moves and calculating. Then, when the time was right, he threw his dagger. The human dodged easily but in doing so he exposed his weapon even more. The corsair did not hesitate, threw the chain forwards as well, let it wrap around the sabre and pulled in the right direction – and indeed, soon after the weapon fell to the mud near a wheel of the front cart.

The man with a hat only let surprise stun him for the shortest while. In a blink of an eye, he stepped out of Searinox's immediate vicinity and reached to his belt. In no time, he was holding a dagger in his left hand – and in the right one, he armed himself with his scabbard – a long piece of fur and metal, firm enough to deflect a sword or break a bone. The man was looking at his elf challenger with respect but no sign of fear – and after just a heartbeat, he leaped forwards while swinging the scabbard in a small arc to taer Searinox's weapon out of his arms.


The battle was becoming fierce. Dolan was fighting with ferocity he had never shown before, overpowered his foe with a few forceful swings and drove his sword into the human's chest up to the hilt. The bronze-haired marksman bandaged his head but was still looking a bit dizzy; his partner, however, leapt forwards, tripped Hendor up and broke his nose with a hilt thrust. Before the elf fell to the ground, he then added one more blow with the sharp edge of the sword across his body. Incaneth was hiding behind trees, aiming his crossbow carefully and managing to avoid attention so far. A human fell, bleeding from several cuts; near him, an elf crashed into a tree with such a force that blood appeared in his mouth. The battle seemed very even.

The three horsemen were finally able to join forces and form a small wedge, with the plated swordsman in the middle, the hammer-wielder to his left and the rear guard rider to his right. They spurred their horses and broke into the fight – and everywhere they appeared, elves were trying to get out of their way while the humans were gaining a little rest or a chance to press forwards.

The battle seems very even now. The riders are joining the fight which might shift the balance in the human's favour.
The hammer-wielder is actually able to cast spells somehow. His first attempt went through and the humans are now protected by magic; his second attempt was dispelled by Ladry.

Searinox: disarming successful, the human is now fighting with a scabbard and launching an attack. His new weapon is far from ideal but he still controls it quite good.
Caraoc: the dice hated you and so the musketeer is only lightly wounded and attacking you.
Ladry: soldier dead, you managed to dispel whatever was the rider trying to do.

I am lazy to set the exact layout of the scene but let's say the riders are not in the reach of swords but in range for spells, crossbows, insults and the like.

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Sun Aug 31, 2014 12:30 pm
by Calisson
The Humans not only dared resist the corsairs, they also polluted the winds of magic with some insane and crude tapping. One horseman was choking the winds, waving his hammer just like if he was smithing them. The most surprising was that he managed somehow to draw some power from the winds indeed, in such way as to affect the melee just the opposite of Caraoc's attempt. That, and the hoarse Human shouts, infuriated the scald, who decided that Azyr's Heavens was too subtle for the situation.
It was high time to get some practice with his knew theoretical knowledge. It was high time to unrein Ghur's Beasts.

In melee, the scald's most efficient talent was to evade hits; once again he used his superb reactivity to step backwards and interpose a tree between the charging musketeer and himself. That provided him the time needed to grab the extremity of his Horn, made from nothing less than the antler of a Vermin Lord.
Emerging from the other side of the tree, the scald blew his lungs in the horn's mouth, shaking the trees with a second lugubrious blast. This time, no bird flew away
- none had come back after the first shout of beastbane.


That would teach the Human smith to take care of his mount instead of disturbing the Winds.

Now, there was an immediate threat: the musketeer. The Man was more disturbed by the tree than by the horn, but if he gained some frustration, he kept his aggressivity nevertheless.
Seizing his cutlass, the scald inprovised a song about transforming sailors into wolves of the sea, attracted by the gold in vicinity. He would unleash the beast's instincts within his body, and shape his fury to transform him into the wildform of a savage beast!

"With a hii hii hoo and a hii hii hey! We're hoisting the flag to be free
We will steal the show, Jolly Rogers go We are wolves of the sea

Don't try to run it's all set and done There's treasure in sight
We are robbing you blind I hope you don't mind We are taking it all tonight

Just walk away we'll count it all
Pirates will stand and the loser will fall..."

  • Interposing a tree between the musketeer an himself
  • horn blast
  • taking his cutlass and letting Ghur take control of him with Wyssan's Wildform.

OOC: Alestorm - Wolves of the Sea
Lyrics: ... V2YRMro.99
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (20 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak, cutlass
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn, sunstone, sextant and set of navigational instruments; 20 gold + share.+ Book (On the boundary between life and death)
Skills: Power of Azyr (2) Power of Ghur (1), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Mon Sep 01, 2014 8:56 pm
by Searinox Nagharha
Searinox was making way towards the Hatted Man, he had his knife ready to quickly distract him when his ears got peaked by the human. “Will anyone fight me? Or are you even weaker than women from Ulthuan?”
'What?!' He thought to himself, 'This... Human! Dares to sully our proud language with his disgusting dialect?!'
He let his head peak out from his hiding spot to get a good look at the challenger. 'If he's looking for a challenge he can get one! Let's just hope he can put up a fight.'

Slowly emerging from the forest, grasping the chain around his left arm and loosely holding his knife in his right, Searinox uttered a small prayer.
"Ladrielle, grant me thy blessing
Thou shroud shall protect me,
and Thy mist shall enfeeble my foe.
Watch over me as I sacrifice him in Thy name."

All the while he didn't take his eyes of his opponent, the human saluted him in a disgraceful manner and then continued to hold a lazy guard. He'll have to pay for that later. After having taken a few steps out of his hiding place Searinox stopped and inspected the human. 'Seven... no Eight paces.' He slightly weighted his chain, 'I'll have to close the distance before I can reach him.' He went through his options, the humans lazy guard would be his under doing. All he needed would be one opening, one chance. The moment came as the humans eyes drifted from his, trying to uncover his equipment.

In one fluent motion Searinox threw his knife towards the Human and dashed forward, it wasn't an aimed throw. It was merely meant to distract the target for the slightest of moments. Before the Human could recover from dodging the knife Searinox had already closed the distance enough for his chain to reach. As quick as a striking viper the chain unwrapped from Searinox's arm and flew towards the sabre the human was holding, coiling around its blade. Then, with a quick tug, the chain tightened and pulled the sabre from the Humans hand and tossed it towards one of the carts.
The shock of how easily he was disarmed was easily displayed on his face. Yet the speed at which he recovered himself showed that this was no mere foot soldier. If he wasn't careful Searinox could get hurt more then he would want to.
Soon after the Hatted Human had regained his stance he had armed himself with a dagger and the scabbard of his sabre.
Not an ideal weapon but should it make contact the damage it would cause would be significant.

Finally a sign of respect appeared in the humans eyes, yet fear was still vacant in them. 'That would chance soon enough.' Then within a heartbeat the Human launched his attack towards Searinox.
In a powerful short motion he brought down the scabbard towards him, using his agility Searinox tried to dodge the blunt object bearing down on him. Spinning around his axis, his Sea Dragon Cloak flayed out wildly, he dropped the chain and quickly unsheathed his Sword. The light of the fires gleaming off of it's dark purple blade, Searinox swung it around in a wide arch hoping to catch the Human off guard.

Still fighting the human, hoping to surprise him with a broad swipe from a previously hidden sword.
if that fails, He'll pull out his dagger aswell and take on a Defensive Stance.

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Tue Sep 02, 2014 7:34 am
by Thraundil
As Ladry drew the sword from her now-dead adversaries belly, she took a brief moment to survey the battlefield. Caraoc was duelling, Searinox was accepting a challenge from who might be the human leader. All around her, elves and humans where engaged in locked combat, and suddenly Ladry felt a disturbance in the winds of magic. It did not bear the characteristic sensation of Caraocs magic, it was something different entirely. The hammer-wielding human! When the second disturbance came, she was ready. Sensing the change of pace, she locked in a battle of minds with the enemy caster, and wove a pattern that would interfere destructively with his. The joining of the riders back to the battle seemed to have shifted the momentum though. Desperate times call for desperate measures she concluded, and sheathed her blade after dispelling its flames.

Stepping out from the trees again, she dug deep in her memory for a spell she had seen demonstrated once. A great skull, all brimstone and flames, laughing with maniac glee. She picked the quickest path that would let her hit the most humans while sparing the most corsairs possible. Attempting to harness the feedback of the spell she just dispelled, Ladry starts the complex incantation.

Ladry is attempting to hurl a burning head through the human ranks in an effort to spread some panic and incapacitate some humans while she's at it. The spell is aimed to hit a maximum number of humans, and a minimum number of corsairs (ideally zero corsairs if such a path exists close to her!)

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Thu Sep 11, 2014 4:13 pm
by Marchosias

Caraoc was able to blow the horn once more and again, the effect was clear. Two horses got to the hind legs and the plated riders were only remaining in the saddle with great effort; the third one, on which the rear guard was riding, panicked and carried his rider away. A human barely jumped out of its way, his corsair adversary was not so lucky, got slammed by the horse's body and fell to the ground, heavily cursing; then, an elf, the new one everyone had lost track of, was able to jump behind the rider with a small dagger prepared to strike. After this, the horse and both his riders disappeared in the forest.

Now there was time however for Caraoc to defend himself. The angry human slammed a tree with his musket; he let out a series of curses and threw himself forwards again. The elf barely managed to sidestep and let the power of Ghur to fill him and give him strength. The human turned around, prepared for another forceful swing – but even he, in his mad hatred, hesitated.

In front of him, there was the same figure of that shoeless elf he was trying to get rid of but somehow, he now seemed a completely new person. He was slouching a bit, or rather leaning forwards as if prepared to jump, yet at the same time he seemed taller and towering above other combatants, almost comparable to the riders. He bent his fingers into claws, his veins were forming sharp lines on his forearms, his eyes got narrow and he was showing his teeth in a grin that would send a chosen of Khorne fleeing.

For the bard himself the world seemed to slow down while his senses got sharper. He could now smell the musketeer's sweat and observe how his initial excitement was being replaced by fear; he could tell apart the voices of combatants; the chilly rain was now pleasantly cooling him down. His mind got clear and the world simple – there was he, a predator without equal, and all around him the humans, his prey, weak and slow and wholly at his mercy. When he struck, the soldier in front of him tried to raise his musket to protect himself but such was the force of Caraoc's blow that his cutlass smashed it out of his hands. The second strike came before the human could even shout out, cut him under the ribs and almost split him in two. Blood spurted out and its smell was overwhelmingly delightful.


As the long howl of Caraoc's horn ceased, Ladry felt the plated rider's mind retreating from shaping the winds of magic as he had more immediate concerns. This was the right time for her to strike.

She quickly looked around, memorising who was fighting where, forecasting their movements, and gathered magical power meanwhile. A head of burning flames formed in front of her, with features that, despite being almost unrecognizable under its mischievous grin, seemed somewhat familiar. When the shape settled, Ladry showed a direction with an abrupt sweep of arm, the head cackled and flew on as commanded.

The first in its path was a human that was probably trying to outflank someone. The grinning mouth bit into his back, he shouted out and fell to the ground; however, his armour had probably saved him from the worst as he was then able to stand up again, albeit somewhat shaken. He threw a quick look on the plated men who were still sitting in saddles and slowly regaining control over their mounts; then, with regained determination, he threw Ladry a determined look and made a few steps towards her. He was still dazed by the blow but quickly recovering.

Next, there was a group of two swordsmen pressing hardly a corsair. The head flew in their middle and threw all three to the ground. The corsair's hair got burned and the skin on his cheek turned red; a human fell on a sharp branch and it tore the skin from his forearm; the other lost his helmet because of the impact. The fighters were about to join the battle again as quickly as possible but the corsair surely gained a bit of breathing space.

Third in line, there was a musketeer who was trying to hide behind a tree and reload. Ladry's fire got to the gunpowder he was just loading in his weapon and ignited it; together, the magical and mundane fires lashed in the human's face, threw him to his back and there he remained lying without motion.

Then the cackling head disappeared in the forest, still cackling with in anticipation as it was unaware there was no one remaining to burn.


After a few short steps and probing attacks the hatted duellist grasped Searinox's chain with a scabbard and pulled powerfully over his wrist. The elf noble was prepared for this and countered with another surprise out of his sleeve – but underestimated how quick and surefooted the human fencer was. Only in the last moment, the noble in hiding spotted the duellist's dagger closing to his neck, ducked and let the blade slide on his sea dragon cloak – but in doing so he lost momentum and his own blow got clumsy. And despite the human was as surprised as expected when a new weapon emerged the short while he got when Searinox had to change his step sufficed for him to move aside and deflect the sword with his scabbard.

The fighters, caught in an awkward position too near each other for comfort, jumped away almost simultaneously. The human made a few quick attacks on Searinox's exposed arm; the elf noble easily avoided them and in turn tried a few cheap cuts that his opponent easily blocked. Then they remained standing, in a respectful distance, eyeing each other.

Soon, the human attacked again, with wide and powerful swings. Searinox stepped back a bit, preparing for a counter – but suddenly, the human threw himself to the side and into a tumble towards the nearest cart and when he got to his feet, he was wielding his sword again.

With the riders out of play for a while and with magic support at work the elves are gaining upper hand.
Caraoc: Thanks to the horn, one horse panicked and carried its rider away. The plated riders are unable to act right now but it is obvious they will regain control over their mounts sooner or later.
Ghur feels powerful in your body and you defeated the angry musketeer easily. It also clouds your mind, however: the more you let it strengthen you the more your thoughts will be pushed out by primal instincts.
Harkyl: He jumped on the panicking horse and was carried away together with the human rider. If MangoPunch comes back it will mean Harkyl probably killed the horseman in some awesome way; if not, his fate will be a mystery for some time.
Ladry: spell successful. One human wounded, one dead, two humans and one corsair affected only slightly. At least one human – the wounded one, a scarred man with sword and shield – sees you as his prime target.
By the way, I think it would be nice if the head would be of someone Ladry knows but I leave it to your decision. :)
Searinox: Damn, this fencer is good! You feel it was a good feint you pulled off but he was still able to defend himself. And he regained his sword, having picked it from the ground during a roll. Insane!

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Thu Sep 11, 2014 8:37 pm
by Calisson
That sensation was incredible. The singing corsair had become a sea wolf.
Sort of. Still standing on two legs, still wielding his cutlass.
But bestowed with the lightning speed of a beast, its overwhelming strength, and its extreme sensorial abilities. :twisted:
The poor man in front of him had no time to wonder, he was laying dead already. :killed:
The smell of blood and entrails penetrated the predator's nostrils, spreading out into his mind.
His eyes scanned the battlefield for a new prey. The call for fresh blood blinded his common sense. :burns:
There was a larger target, one ton of muscle and blood, carrying a man of steel. The horse was distraught and his rider could barely remain seated.
Jumping at amazing speed, the maddened corsair leaped at the horse's throat, avoiding loosely the animal's hooves and bouncing back immediately.
The cutlass had left its deadly mark on the poor animal's throat.

In Caraoc's mind, two conflicting emotions were building up. :o_O:

The scald had gladfully absorbed the magic of Ghur into inspiring him his most savage verses. Caraoc envisioned himself having become Càc'halainn, the mad sea wolf. :evil: He thought:
    The first warp-spasm seized Càc'halainn, and made him into a monstrous thing, hideous and shapeless, unheard of. His shanks and his joints, every knuckle and angle and organ from head to foot, shook like a tree in the flood or a reed in the stream. His body made a furious twist inside his skin, so that his feet and shins switched to the rear and his heels and calves switched to the front... On his head the temple-sinews stretched to the nape of his neck, each mighty, immense, measureless knob as big as the head of a month-old child... he sucked one eye so deep into his head that a wild crane couldn't probe it onto his cheek out of the depths of his skull; the other eye fell out along his cheek. His mouth weirdly distorted: his cheek peeled back from his jaws until the gullet appeared, his lungs and his liver flapped in his mouth and throat, his lower jaw struck the upper a lion-killing blow, and fiery flakes large as a ram's fleece reached his mouth from his throat... The hair of his head twisted like the tange of a red thornbush stuck in a gap; if a royal apple tree with all its kingly fruit were shaken above him, scarce an apple would reach the ground but each would be spiked on a bristle of his hair as it stood up on his scalp with rage.

But the pilot in him needed to know where this madness would lead him. :? He envisioned:
    Once the enemy was no more, he remained in his battle frenzy, and the Corsairs were afraid he would slaughter them all as well. All male corsairs sought their survival in their escape. Only Ladry remained, who bare her breasts to him. He averted his eyes :oops: , and the Corsairs could come back. They wrestled him into a barrel of cold water, which exploded from the heat of his body. They put him in a second barrel, which boiled, and a third, which warmed to a pleasant temperature. :|

To the pilot's distress, the scald took over.
Ghur's brutal force had bested Azyr's subtlety.
The scald's awful hoarse shouts provoking the Humans resembled more the growls of a fawn. !mad!

    "...His body begins to twist and turn,
    His flesh revolves within his skin,
    His features turn red one by one,
    And the slaying then begins.

    He returned to his mate Ladry,
    And threatened to destroy them all,
    The naked woman remained and brought forth,
    He then began to calm down.
    Càc'halainn,The Hound of Mathlann
    Càc'halainn,The Hound of Mathlann
    Càc'halainn,The Hound of Mathlann
    He is the Son of a God.
    Càc'halainn,The Hound of Mathlann
    Càc'halainn,The Hound of Mathlann
    Càc'halainn,The Hound of Mathlann
    Serpents and Dragons he fought."

What remained rational in the pilot's mind could only hope that the scald's words and visions were just exaggerated poetry.

Letting Ghur take control, transforming Caraoc into the Savage Beast of Horros.
Targeting the horse of the closest mounted knight.

OOC: Cú Chulainn
Text: Thomas Kinsella (
Lyrics by Cruachan: ... yrics.html
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (20 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak, cutlass
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn, sunstone, sextant and set of navigational instruments; 20 gold + share.+ Book (On the boundary between life and death)
Skills: Power of Azyr (2) Power of Ghur (1), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2014 3:51 pm
by Amboadine
A change of perspective.

The days were now starting to blur into one, this was not where he preferred to be, but a job was a job, and the rewards should be more than adequate recompense.

The target was near or so he was led to believe, although being an outsider to the normal crew, the information he gained was usually hearsay than straight from Captain Henery’s mouth. Apparently the previous raid had uncovered some information pertaining to an opportune target, although he was not really sure who or what this target may be. This information seemed to be known only by the select few.

Looking around the ship; ‘The Tempestous’, Gilvaad was starting to notice the Corsairs beginning their preparations with an accomplished flair. The hired mercenaries however looked idle in comparison, each going through their own routines.
On the quarterdeck the Captain seemed to be in close consultation with the Witch Shyamal; she was the subject of debate and fantasy of many a late night in the bunks, never seeming to leave her cabin except at times to regal the crew with the lyre.

For Gilvaad himself, there was really very little in the way of preparation needed. He was not a warrior and was not planning any heroics, the job should be simple and that was his only concern. Tightening his straps and pulling his cloak tighter, he continued to watch the ‘Imperial’ coast line come into view.

Gilvaad watches the coast line and waits

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Thu Sep 25, 2014 6:34 pm
by Searinox Nagharha
As the two combatants jumped away from one another a grin appeared on Searinox's face. The human proved to be a mightier opponent then he had first thought. 'Good, finally a truly worthy opponent!'
Yet while he was reviling in the fact that he had found a good opponent, he knew that he could not dabble in this pleasurable situation for long as his help would soon be needed elsewhere on the battle field. Just as the Hatted Man opened up with a few powerful attacks Searinox made preparations to evade them. Yet suddenly the air was filled with a hoarse voice shouting lyrics.
'Is that... Caraoc..?' In this small break of concentration the Human dashed away, rolling towards the sword Searinox had removed from his grasp moments before. "Blast..!" He snorted "I'm growing tired of this!" He reached underneath his cloak and brushed over the Flask Searinox had marked with the Druchii rune for Strength.
'... No... I can do this without that!' Letting his arm drop back down holding his short sword instead he raised his prized falchion Ravnklo and let the light reflect on it's deep purple blade, then he gave a quick glance around the battlefield.
'Everyone is busy with the raiding, nobody should notice.'

Searinox closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, gathering his focus he lower his stance and opened his eyes again. He raised his Falchion infront of him and slowly started to wave it up and down. Allowing the surrounding light to dance on the blade until it seemed to bend like a shadow dancing behind a fire. It was a fighting stance that his family had used for generations, it focused on feints, counters and precision strikes. Yet he always was reluctant to use it ever since the fall of his House as you might never know who was watching, and to the knowing eye it was a dead give away of his lineage.

Moving closer with every wave of his sword, Searinox dashed forward with great speed and just before striking he waved his sword in a broad arc as a distracting movement. Quickly following with several quick short slashed from his Short Sword aimed at the hatted man's sabre. Then came a big diagonal swing with his Falchion from top right to the bottom left which Searinox followed up with a quick twist of his wrist and turned the entire motion in a powerful forward thrust aimed at the humans right shoulder.

Asserting the situation Searinox deemed it necessary to use his families fighting stance "Karan Anast" (Hunting Raven), knowing the danger that it might expose his identity.
follows up with a combo from this stance he at the very least hoped to have suprised the human again.
If succesfull in wounding the human he will follow up with a quick spin and a kick to the chest, if unsuccesfull he'll try to get behind the human using his superior agility and try to backstab him with is short sword.

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Wed Oct 01, 2014 9:38 am
by Marchosias

With every passing day, the life on the Tempestous was getting faster.

The first raid was trivial, just some small port with almost no guards. There was almost no fighting; the few fools that tried to oppose them were blasted away with just a slight motion of the wrist of Lady Shyamal. Then it was only a routine of acquiring food, weapons and the occasional luxuries.

In the documents of the port's mayor, however, they found a map depicting the planned travel of a tax collector – a prize of exactly the size and worth this ship had always been after. With no delays, they set on the trail. The convoy was some six days ahead of them.

Ships are considerably faster than carts, though, and so when they attacked a small coastal village two days after this, a fisherman told them he had seen the tax collector just the day before yesterday. It was obvious the fight was near and so they intensified preparations: the captain personally inspected the equipment of every corsair, had them drill for battle again and gave them larger rations; even the mercenaries were expected to work on their fighting prowess and the watchful eye of captain Hereny was observing them on each step.

One more day and the ship slowed down, letting outriders on swift horses to scout the road. Indeed, the reports swiftly came back: the prize was just there for them to grape. Soon, a menacing force of nearly forty corsairs and several horseback elves, including the captain, the sorceress and several mercenaries, was cautiously nearing the unsuspecting humans. One scout even claimed the head of the human rear guard.

Suddenly, however, a long and unsettling tone of a horn sounded from the woods in front of them. A flock of birds took wing and the captain's horse snorted. The host slowed down and then stopped entirely.

The sound died out without warning again. A lone rider emerged from between the trees before them and rode to the captain immediately to provide an explanation.

“Some other group of elves was faster than we. About twenty corsairs and a fire mage. The fight seems very even.”

“Then we should help our kin,” decided the captain. “Forwards at full speed! We will surprise the humans and slaughter them before they will know what is happening.”

The host set in motion again at a rapid speed. One of them raised a banner, depicting a cold one crushing a spear in its teeth. The elves were moving silently but otherwise, there was no need for concealment anymore.

Corsairs from The Tempestous, Gilvaad including, are nearing the tax collector, ready to join the fight.

[OOC: I fear the next few scenes - the conclusion of the tax collector fight and several following ones - might seem somewhat forced. I want to accomplish quite a lot in them - putting some former player characters away, bringing Gilvaad in, pushing the story in a new direction - and I am not sure I will be able to do it as seemlessly as I would like. So if you feel some plot twist is too harsh or an NPC too awesome you are probably right - please bear with me, it should not last long.]

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Wed Oct 01, 2014 11:57 am
by Thraundil
Ladry succesfully utilised the distraction of the mounted human wizard to conjure up a head made entirely of flames. The head appeared in front of her, and as the apparition began to take shape, Ladry almost stumbled backwards. Could it be... No, surely not. The burning bright eyes of her father stared into hers. Into her very soul. She could feel the burning heat, the rage, scorching away at the core of her being, and it seemed as if the ruthless upbringing, the disappointment at her not being what her father wanted her to be... All of it was repeated in what seemed like an eternity, but took only a split second. As she snapped back to reality, she realised everything she had become now. The very perfect image shaped by a man she loathed. As she willed the head to move, it seemed to snarl at her. "You have no power over me! Not anymore. I am in control now!!!" she all but screamed at the manifestation. "BURN THIS RABBLE!!!!" she finally shrieked, and with all her effort she launched the head along its path.

Just as the head began its acceleration, the winds of magic was suddenly disrupted by something Ladry had never felt before. It was if a savage beast was unleashed through the winds, crude, brutal, ripping at the sides of her mind. She located the source swiftly enough, as the magic still bore the distinct impression of Caraoc. She used the rawness of the spell to further her own, and the head burst through the figthing mass. Two humans where not fast enough. One was bitten in the shoulder by the flaming head, and one was devoured whole.

Just as the head reached its end, the wounded human stumbled to his feet and shook his head. Eyeing Ladry, he drew his sword and began stepping towards her. "Oh you poor fool... Do you not realise that fire only wants more?!" Another fireball is in order for this fool, I believe! Ladry prepares to use the feedback from her burning head, and the kindleflame still springing freshly from the approaching mans shoulder, to shape a new ball of flame and hurl it into the face of the oncoming assailant.

People who are not too preoccupied with figthing, and who have knowledge of the house of Lokarias, might just have seen the raging face of the former Dreadlord Ladal hurl through the forest.
Ladry attempts to use the kindleflame effect to hurl another fireball onto her assailant.

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Sat Oct 04, 2014 8:10 am
by Marchosias
The fight had been dragging for a while already and both sides could still emerge victorious. Several bodies were lying on the ground, humans and elves alike, with bloodied heads, severed limps or stabs in their belies, some moaning in pain, some silent and motionless.

Many were still standing, though: Incaneth, hidden behind a tree most of the time, carefully observing what was going on and occasionally shooting a bolt; the armoured riders, shouting prayers and orders; a fire sorceress, filled with deep old pain, casting flames all around her; the two duellists, observing each other closely and not caring about anything and anyone else; a rider nearing from where the convoy was heading, with flowing dark hair and eyes full of eagerness; two bronze-haired humans, fighting side by side and forcing all opposition to retreat; the scald, howling and sowing destruction, empowered by some wild energies he could hardly understand.

All around, the forest was clear and quiet; they could not even hear the laughing skull or the horse Harkyl had jumped on anymore.

The moment Ladry reached to the flames slowly dying on the foolish human, they responded and rose again. Her attacker cried out and threw himself forwards with his weapon lifted but it was easy for the mage to just step away and let him go past her.

The bald rider shouted out again and raised his hammer. His magic went unopposed this time and despite the clouded sky and persistent rain, it almost appeared as if a flash of light settled on his blunt weapon.

Searinox thrust forwards, swinging quickly his falchion and letting the light reflect on it in strange and misleading ways. His attacks were swift and precise, coming from a school his adversary had obviously never encountered before and so for the first time in their fight the human was forced to back away.

The rider got in the midst of the fight finally, jumped off the horse and left it to its fate. Then she drew her rapier and ran to the pair of bronze-haired humans.

Caraoc, with the power of wilderness flowing through his veins, easily dodged the commander's sword and stroke against the throat of his mount. Then, however, an unusually intensive flash of light got through the clouds for a brief moment and cut right into the bard's eyes. He could not help but to close them in pain as this sudden blaze was too much to bear; it only took a moment but it was enough for the attack to fall apart. Caraoc then easily evaded the commander's retribution but his moment of surprise was lost.

Dolan had been joined by two other corsairs. They were on his both sides, he was covering them with his shield and clearing their path with brute force and thanks to his help, they could then more easily carve through the unfortunate humans that got in their way; it was slow but effective. Now, there was a swordsman and a halberdier facing them and slowly backing off; the elves were not hurrying, knowing their advantage was bound to bring an opportunity sooner or later. Then, however, some kind of light with no apparent source appeared on the weapons of their foes.

The two bronze haired men, musketeer and swordsman, clearly knew how to fight together. To surprise them and render their training useless, Analya whirled between their weapons forwards, hit one of them with an elbow and turned right to cut the other. When the light appeared, though, she remembered something she had been taught back home and threw herself to the ground, forfeiting her chance to strike.

He was quick and unpredictable as fire and slippery as shadow and soon the human's defences were in ruins. Searinox followed with one last feint the human had no means to parry. His foe was only able to dodge clumsily; the scion of House Nagharha wasted no time and swiftly slipped behind his back. Then, however, a sudden spark of light burned his skin in an intense burst of pain and his sword hand lost precision. Still, he could feel rather than see that his sword got through the human's flesh.

The scald, about to jump at his foe again, dodged most of the light thanks to his unnatural speed. He got only slightly burnt on the back but how could a bit of pain stop someone filled with primal fury?

The long training sessions in Durekhar fencing halls proved their worth as Analya dodged the spell entirely. She still ended in a vulnerable position on the ground, though, and a heavy boot slammed in her chest. She screamed out sharply and rolled away, only barely avoiding an edge of a sword. She had mud in her hair and tears in her eyes but when she looked at the bronze fighters again, it was clear she had by no means lost her desire to fight.

The two corsairs fell back and so it was up to Dolan to block the halberd blow; despite its strength he managed to stand his ground and send the human back with a shoulder slam. The other foe, however, was able to strike with his sword in the meantime, cut deeply in the elf's hips and sent the mighty warrior to his knees.

More humans were closing to Ladry from several sides and she was readying her flames in response. When the spell struck she barely noticed as it was so similar to her own fire; it only meant she had to defend herself alone for a while as the corsairs that were about to protect her got distracted.

In the midst of the battle, looking mighty and shiny despite all the mud and rain was the warrior priest, swinging his hammer left and right in the air and praying to Sigmar, and with every move of his weapon an elf got hit with magic.

Behind a tree, Incaneth took a careful aim and sent a bolt against the hammer human. However, it only met the plated armour and harmlessly bounced off.

Almost all elves, including Caraoc, Ladry and Searinox, are struck by a weak version of Soulfire. It has hardly S4 and causes no wounds to speak of but it hurts like hell.
Analya has arrived (she killed the front guard with her bow and took his horse) and is currently getting beaten by the two bronze-haired humans (one of them has been hit by Searinox's knife at the beginning of the battle but apparently he is now able to fight again).
Dolan probably saved his two companions from a nasty halberd death but suffered a wound for his trouble.
Searinox pulled off his feint successfully and stabbed the human in the side. Now it should be easy to finish him.
Ladry fried the poor attacker but three more are closing to her from various sides. Help will probably come soon but not immediately.
Caraoc's blow got stopped by a ward save but this can't work infinitely, can it?
Overall, the spell gave the humans a new fighting chance. Hard to say who has the advantage – probably the elves as they have you ;) but there are some heroes on the side of humans, too.

The fight is nearing an end. If you want to do something extra awesome this is probably your last chance. Just leave some targets for the NPCs, please. :D

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Sat Oct 04, 2014 10:53 pm
by Calisson
The astromancer pilot was distressed. His scald alter ego had given full control to Ghur of the body they had in common.
And that body was no longer recognizable since it had become the bodybuilded Càc'halainn. It was full of testosteron, enraged with blood lust, out of control.
The worst was that it seemed not to pay the slightest attention to risk. Or worse, the desperate pilot realized that his frenzied body was looking deliberately after the most dangerous foes. For the first time in his life, the corsair had jumped into the midst of a melee. And, hard to believe as it was, he had aggressed nothing less than a mighty knight in full armour. Who was riding next to another one. And all Elves were busy elsewhere; there was no support to expect from the rest of the group.

Meanwhile, the scald in the same body was jubilating. He was living an exhilarating experience. Instead of chanting a mighty tale, he was living it, and he was the hero! What a joy, such a first person game! He had become the ultimate warrior, Càc'halainn. Men clad in full armour riding large horses were no match to him. He was a beast!

But suddenly he squealed. Coming from nowhere, an intensive flash of light caused an agonizing pain in his back. Instantaneously, the blood lust in the savage beast vanished and was submerged by an animal fear, fear from lightning. Panic! Find a shelter!

And the beast ceased to be the formidable foe it was instants before. The Human fighter, who had suffered no injury, blew his weapon at Caraoc, who avoided it barely in a life preserving instinct that surged back from oblivion. The corsair lowered his head and turned on his heels, he had become a mockery of the vision he had minutes before. And he ran away shamelessly.

What remained of his supernatural speed and agility was used to dodge between fencers and to rush towards the relative safety of the wood he was coming from.
As Caraoc came close to the trees, evading the occasional blow, the pilot started to regain control of his own body. His avoidance of hits became more and more controlled.
The pilot aimed at the very tree where he had left his horn and his handbow. They could soon come handy.

Then, from a safer perspective and with longer range assets in hand, having regained full control of himself, the astromancer looked back at the scene of action.
One of the Humans was using some magic, which resulted in some kind of light.
"Wait", thought the adept of Azyr, "if there is some lightning, that's my specialty!"
He waited for the next appearance of a light effect, ready to grab control over it and reorient it towards the Men covered with metal, if possible, or to counter it if no control was achieveable.

Retreating towards the edge of the wood, where he had left the horn and the handbow.
Ending schizophrenia. Getting ready to counter the Human's spell, and if possible, to reorient it against human knights.

Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (20 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak, cutlass
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn, sunstone, sextant and set of navigational instruments; 20 gold + share.+ Book (On the boundary between life and death)
Skills: Power of Azyr (2) Power of Ghur (1), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Fri Oct 10, 2014 9:13 pm
by Searinox Nagharha
As Searinox expected, being assaulted by a exotic fighting style left the hatted human at a disadvantage. Faced with a skill set he was not accustomed to all the human was able to do was fall back and defend himself against the flurry of unpredictable attacks. Indeed not only was Karan Anast a style focused on its unpredictability every move had several following moves depending on the actions of the target, whether he would parry, dodge, or block a move. each had a different move that followed, another feint to distract the target, or another precision strike to disable him.

After a final feint Searinox trusted his falchion forward, it was a strike so fast that all the human was capable off was dodging clumsily to the side. this was the chance he had waited for, with the humans stance broken, it was time to finish him off.
following through on his trust Searinox took advantage of his elven agility and weaved himself around the human, so fast and fluent was this motion that it almost seemed like the noble turned into a shadow for the briefest of moments. Not wasting any time Searinox flicked his short sword around in a almost ceremonial way and finally send it towards the side of the human, with the intention of penetrating one of his lungs.
this plan however was foiled when the human was engulfed in a bright burning light. Blinded Searinox's precision was shattered, yet his determination wasn't. closing his eyes he went through on pure intuition and sure enough, while he couldn't see it, the sensation of a blade cutting through human flesh was one that Searinox knew all to well. Knowing that his attack found its mark he decided it was time for a quick retreat so that his eyes could adjust. Using his right hand he shrouded himself within his cloak and jumped backward.

His cloak was able to absorb most of the damage from the sudden flare, yet his eyes where still readjusting themselves. whilst everything was still a bit blurry he was able to make out a single shape. The hatted man had dropped one of his weapons and was holding his side. As Searinox's sight returned to him the first thing he was able to make out was the blood on his short sword, now he knew for sure that he had wounded his opponent. Finally beeing able to see clearly again he focused his attention towards the hatted man. While not fatal, he had suffered gash across his back. The human did his best to keep pressure on the wound, it proved to be of no avail as the wound was to deep and blood rushed through his fingers.
Pleased that he was able to score a wound blow on enemy the Noble of the House of Corvus raised himself up in stature and slowly walked towards the Hatted Man who, at the time, was using most of his strength just to keep standing straight.
The noble spread his arms as he sited another one of his prayers;
"And Reaper's we shall be, for Thee, my Lady.
Power hath descended forth from Thy hand,
that our blades may swiftly carry out Thy bidding.
So we shall create a river forth to Thee,
and teeming with souls shall it be.
In nomine Corvus. et Domina Nebulas. Khaela Mensha Khaine

Once he got within arms reach the hatted man launched one final attack, a last hope to strike the elf that was about to kill him. Yet, weakened as he was, Searinox's was easily able to dodge the blade and quickly side stepped next to the human and kicked him onto his knees as he placed the edge of his Falchion against the humans neck, drawing blood ever so slightly. His eyes locked with the hatted man for one last time as Searinox, in his broken attempt to utter Reikspiel, offered one final insult.
"Tod Sigmar"
As rage filled the humans eyes the noble swiped his Falchion in a wide arc towards the humans neck. It's dark blade leaving behind a purple hue as if the thrill of the execution was awakening a hidden power within. Once the blade made contact with the humans neck, streams of deep red mixed within the purple hue, as the Hatted Man's head flew through the sky. A stream of blood gushed forth from where the torso where it used to be located. The lifeless body slowly collapsed towards the ground, slowly, almost as if some final sparks of tenacity where still trying to keep it fighting on.
Once the head hit the ground, a few feet away from where the body had collapsed, the hat of the human had fallen off.

The Hatted man, was Hatted no more.

finishes his duel with the Hatted Man, getting caught up in the moment and is zoned out as he takes in the broken body of his enemy.

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Mon Oct 13, 2014 7:22 am
by Thraundil
The approaching human had not expected the fire to return so swiftly. As he barged towards Ladry, it was all too simple for her to perform a swift sidestep, and wreathe the humans upper body with flames. The smell of singed flesh was beginning to fill the air all around her from all the humans she had burned so far. Three additional humans began to close in on her... And suddenly she realised that not all of the brightness was from her own flames. Some of it was that cursed human. She was all on her own. Fight or flight? No time to think!

No. Druchii do not flee. They make others flee. It was time to end this. Three humans had met a fiery end at her hands so far. It was only fitting that three more would die. A fitting sacrifice. The circle is complete! "Ashara, let the fiery doom be a fitting sacrifice!" she cried out, and wove a complex pattern in the air with her fingers. The feedback of her latest victim coursed through her, and she thrust out her arms to both sides, willing waves of fire into existence.

Ladry attempts to conjure a flame wave from her own point, to either kill or scare off the approaching humans.

Re: Group 42 - Prologue: Mysteries of the coast

Posted: Mon Oct 13, 2014 8:26 pm
by Calisson
Meanwhile, Caraoc was waiting for the next appearance of a flash of light, in order to counter it and turn it to lightning he could control and aim back at the Humans.
After helplessly witnessing his body being turned into a wild, unpredictable beast, the Astromancer was utterly relieved to have regained control thanks to a kick of light in the back.
He muttered triumphally a song half voice to the other half of his brain, who had just lost control of the body they shared.

    "I was hold, you thought you'd never need me So you said, "how'd I let this slip away?"
    On the floor, cold and barely breathing So it goes Sleeping all my dreams away 'Til you found me
    Like a lightning bolt to the heart You woke me up, woke me up
    Yeah, you brought me out of the dark With just one spark, just one spark
    Now I can feel your pulse Kick starting this lifeless soul
    Like a lightning bolt to heart You woke me up, woke me up Yeah

    I was hold, you thought you'd never need me So you said, "how the Hell did I let this slip away?"
    Have I lost myself? I was stumbling right on the edge You pulled me back, for one last fence
    Yeah, I was lost on the darkest road I need your light to lead me home
    Now I can feel your pulse Kick starting this lifeless soul
    Like a lightning bolt to the heart You woke me up, woke me up Yeah

    Like a lightning bolt to the heart You woke me up, woke me up Yeah
    Can you feel me Like I feel you Can our hearts still be together?
    This is our time, Don't you waste it We can sing this song forever
    Can you feel me Like I feel you Can our hearts still be together?
    This is our time, Don't you waste it We can sing this song forever

    Now I can feel your pulse Kick starting this lifeless soul
    Like a lightning bolt to the heart You woke me up, woke me up Yeah"

<Just adding cool pop music to previous post>.

OOC: Cash Cash - Lightning
Lyrics: ... -cash.html
Caraoc the scald pilot - WS3 S4 T3 D5 I5 - A saga or it didn't happen!
Equipment: staff, repeater handbow (20 clips), Sea Dragon Cloak, cutlass
Inventory: "Beastbane" Horn, sunstone, sextant and set of navigational instruments; 20 gold + share.+ Book (On the boundary between life and death)
Skills: Power of Azyr (2) Power of Ghur (1), Evasion, Raiding
Class: Mage (Astromancer)