Group 28
Page 44 of 48

Author:  Drainial [ Tue Oct 09, 2012 5:43 pm ]
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There seemed to be no option but to follow these elves, hope that they really were what they said they were, and head back to the main force. Finding that his wounds were healing far faster than he could have hoped for Carathyle quickly gathered up his equipment and settled his swords and spear back into place, picking up his shield he was ready to go. Syjahel and Jacks needed no time and so with Naylia in the middle of the mercenaries and the two shades leading the way they set off back into the woods. If their guides had any complaints about the progress of the 'city folk' they made no mention of it but readied their repeaters just in case. Jacks followed their lead, taking out his crossbow to be ready should they come under attack again.

For some time they moved with very little to mark the time, after a little while however they began to hear the sounds of battle. Druchii war horns blared over the harsh braying cries of beastmen and as they moved closer still the unmistakeable sound of steel on steel could be heard clanging through the glen. Dead bodies began to appear on the forest floor, Gors and Ungors peppered with bolts or slit open, here and there Druchii corpses joined them. The ground rose and they continued up the slope; all of a sudden the mercenaries crested a rise and looked down through thinning trees to a huge clearing. Unlike the others they had seen this clearing was clearly unnatural, several huge shattered stumps showed where once stone trees had stood. There was clear sign of habitation, large cook fires were dotted about, to one side several Druchii tents were lined up in military order with what looked to be a horse line close at hand. Other tents were set a little way away from the elegant elven constructions, made of hide and felt they stood in haphazard order. At the very centre of the enemy camp however stood an alter to shame that of Aemili.

Where the last alter had been a simple platform of black stone this one was a riot of colour. A three tiered nonagon rose ziggurat like off the forest floor; the lowest and largest tier was blue, the second golden while the third shimmered like crystal as the sunlight light hit it. On this highest tier a grotesque statue stood; a birdlike creature with three arms, one of which clutched a long staff, where the rest of the alter was colourful this was a dull grey-brown. The statue immediately caught the eye but it was only a little larger than the figure standing atop the highest tier. It was a an elven woman dressed in flowing robes of midnight blue and shimmering gold. Her hair was red and yet in all other respects she called to mind a grown version of their young charge. This then could only be Lady Tachar Dalvar, the head of this chaos cult and the source of a great deal of woe. By her side stood a more familiar figure, Aemili.

These two figures may have made for an inviting target but they were not alone in the clearing. To their left Sultra's force stood gathered. Over 300 elves armoured to various degrees had been gathered and each was armed to the teeth. At the centre Sultra's garrison wielded spear and sword in a densely packed shield wall. Flanking them were two large groups of mercenaries and irregulars armed as they saw fit, these two groups had both curved backwards forming a large semi circle. At the centre of this force they could see Sultra himself, armed for war and mounted on his white steed surrounded by a dozen retainers and knights all ready to be flung into the fray. It was a strong force but the day could not be called for them just yet.

Arrayed to the right of the mercenaries between the alter and Sultra stood a large mass of troops. Where Sultra had only elven warriors Tachar seemingly had other forces to call on. At the heart of the chaos army facing Sultra's garrison a mass of humans could be seen screaming defiance and profanity. Most grasped axes or short stabbing spears but almost all had some mutation evident. These humans were far outnumbered by the children of chaos, these beastmen flanked the humans as the mercenaries did Sultra's force. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe this was simply a case of like father like daughter. Throughout this force elves could be seen in the armour of Dalvian retainers, warriors the mercenaries knew to respect. Behind these lines more elves sat astride dark steeds in Dalvian armour but thought they were few in number their numbers were bolstered by warriors of chaos, huge in black spiked plate and clutching weapons of terrible cruelty.

"I give you one last chance old man," a females voice bombed over head, clearly magically amplified
"Surrender and pledge your soul to the weaver of fate and you will be rewarded." It was a tired cliché and was answered as such. Sultra had no mage to amplify his voice but though they could not hear his voice his answer was clear. All along the lines of his army scores of crossbows were raised and fired in a single volley. Almost unseen the black bolts slashed into the chaos battle line bringing many down and wounding more. Moments later a second volley smashed home toppling more, evening up the numbers a little more. It would not be enough to stop the impending battle however; with a roar the Dalvian force charged.

Right I will try to paint as clear a picture as I can. You are on a rise still in the woods (though the trees are thin here and you are not very well hidden) roughly 150 yards away from the middle of the two armies (if you went straight forward). Sultra's force is to your left in a semicircular formation about 45 yards away (that’s 45 yards left and 150 forward). This force is about 300 strong and made up of elven warriors with a variety of equipment.

The enemy force of combined species are charging. They are currently 60 yards to your right (60 right, 150 forward) and charging forward quite quickly at Sultra's force. -Drainial

Author:  Syjahel [ Tue Oct 09, 2012 6:29 pm ]
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[pre-battle post]

”Is something bothering you, Lady Vasht? You seem troubled.”

Syjahel tilted her head to regard her fellow noble with some curiosity. It was good to see him on his feet again and alert. But there had been so little time for proper conversation lately, civilised or rustic. The trouble was, while she was willing enough to discuss the matter it involved Sultra and little pitchers, as the saying goes, have big ears. There was no way she could discuss her father while Naylia was with them, indeed in the centre of their little group. No doubt the child would understand everything, even if the political implications were not yet clear to her.

Not wanting to damage the new rapport between the three survivors she said,

"Well, I would like to talk it over with you. But since we have a small matter of reaching Sultra's army, how about I do so later over that drink I owe you, my Lord Maveric?"

Author:  Carathyle maveric [ Tue Oct 09, 2012 10:06 pm ]
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Syjahel's answer was one of holding out, her mind obviously wary of something. The seemingly tactical thinking captain of their group, normally quite as talk-active as most of them, was shushing herself for some reason. Carathyle didn't bother, he simply shrugged as they were moving onward in the direction the shades pointed out.

A slight curse emerged from Carathyle's lips near silent, as he reckoned that, if things were as bad as he'd expected, especially with the warhorns blowing around their ears it seemed, he'd probably would want to sit the upcoming battle out, or at least not join the ranks of Sultra's army. For all he cared, their orders were still those of retrieving and safeguarding Naylia, and as it sounded, they were leading her into danger.

Carathyle's suspicions grew larger by the footstep they made, up a slope and at the top. His eyes couldn't believe what he saw, even though the Witch King's army was vastly larger in size and superior in arms and armor. He could near immediately see the lines of Chaos and blasphemous Elves numbered well in the hundreds if not more, but the army of Sultra was numbering in the hundreds as well. From afar, the echoïng of magically amplified chatter was easily heard, trying to persuade their employer to join their ranks or die.

His price stood proudly next her seeming mother, Aemili, Naylia's half-sister. Carathyle turned his head toward Syjahel, and restrained his nerves a bit for what was needed. "I suggest we sit this one out. The trees give us minimal cover and it would only be a matter of time before we are noticed, but I prefer keeping Naylia safe. If we charge for the forces of Chaos, we'll likely leave Naylia unguarded. As for what happens when we don't, the blood sacrifice would probably be plenty enough to resurrect the Greater Daemon of Change." Carathyle pointed at the statue at the top of the shrine.

"Whether we like it or not, I suggest sitting this one out until Sultra's army is either half slain or has slain half. There is little we can do down there other than getting ourselves killed and possibly getting Naylia killed. It's your call milady, I'm just voicing my opinion." Carathyle wrapped it up rather sudden. His will to fight was at a rare depth at the moment, being outnumbered is one hell of a demoralization.

Simply throws his thoughts of the situation out there. If the plan is to do nothing, move back to the slightly thicker trees. Rather a good hide-out and less view, than all the view and getting spotted near immediately.

Author:  Cananatra [ Wed Oct 10, 2012 5:12 pm ]
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The strange elven prince he was with seemed to wish to waste as little time as possible and almost before the words had left his mouth the prince had sprung to his feet, ready to lead a warband. The other elves in the tent seemed well practiced in preparing for a fight because they all leapt to it in a confusion of movement and half heard orders. The rapid fire of normal speech, for these elves, was more or less unintelligible to Cananatra and he just stood slightly to the side and out of everyone’s way while they got ready. The princes armour was light and Cananatra did not envy him carrying a bronze spear against steel weapons. Then again, chances are in a fight this lot would just shoot rather than getting up close and personal.

Cananatra was jolted out of his thoughts as the prince turned and strode from the tent without so much as a glance towards him. Clearly this was one leader accustomed to having everyone trailing after him. As with the casual distain of most nobility it rubbed Cananatra slightly wrong but he was in their camp so there was nothing to be done but follow the prince out; just ahead of another elf who was clearly keeping an eye on him. The sight that met his eyes was a familiar one, a group readying itself to ride and with an indication from his hosts Cananatra moved to the horse for him.

The beast was slightly smaller than the dark steeds he was used to but for all that it looked healthy enough, so far as Cananatra could tell, which wasn’t very far. Cananatra looked at the horse as he approached with no small amount of dislike. He was an indifferent rider at best. It beat walking, but only just, in his opinion. Grabbing hold of the saddle he put a foot in the stirrup and levered himself up with conspicuously absent grace. It had been quite a while since he’d last ridden.


The return journey went by with significantly less running than the journey out had, assuming for a moment they were actually returning, for all the woods looked the same to the mercenary. It was surprisingly pleasant to get off his feet and have something else do all the hard work of moving, though Cananatra knew he’d likely hear complaints from certain muscles come the evening. Just as he was beginning to enjoy the ride the silence of the forest was split by a horn. Unfortunately judging from the actions of his guides it was unlikely to be a friendly one. A lumbering chaos warrior burst from the trees with plenty of friends and a roar to make it clear they didn’t need directions.

The expected flight of arrows took a nice toll on the lightly armoured humans, but the larger chaos warrior happily ignored the sleeting death, him with his big spiked armour. Realising rather quickly the way the fight was going to progress Cananatra drew his sword and wrestled his horse to face the warrior. It was almost comical how often he had to deal with the big ugly in the attacking groups. Slamming his heels into his horses flanks he charged.

Cananatra will charge right at the warrior leading the marauders. He won’t try riding past and attacking, this is straight for him and have the horse run over him. As the horse is likely to die from a very nasty wound handed out by the warrior Cananatra plans to jump off its back and onto the chaos warrior (note Cananatra left his shield on his back so his left hand is free). Hopefully this will take them both to the ground and Cananatra will acquaint the warrior’s eye slit with his dagger.

Author:  Syjahel [ Wed Oct 10, 2012 7:00 pm ]
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Led by the scouts, Syjahel got a decent look at the opposing forces at last. At once she dropped low into better cover to observe. While it was good to see that Sultra had fielded a considerable force of disciplined troops, she was slightly dismayed to see the strength of the Chaos army. She knew that while there was much to be said for good Naggaroth steel - having placed her life in its care many times - the sheer size of the enemy's warband was cause for concern. Sometimes even the best-trained troops can be overmatched by sufficient brute strength and ignorance.

However, as she heard the exchange - or half of it, at least - she knew that even if Tachar took after her father in intelligence she could hardly have his military expertise. All of Syjahel's martial training and heritage stirred her blood to take the front line. She was raised to fight alongside such forces. As a noblewoman of Naggaroth, she could feel her every instinct strain for the fight and the spilling of blood in righteous fury.

But this - this would not do. For all his previous record of running headlong into a fight, Carathyle clearly agreed with her for he was the first to voice it: they could not join the battle and protect Naylia. As soon as they committed themselves to the fray, they risked her life, or risked dividing Sultra's attention. They could not afford to become a target. Not that she suspected Sultra of weakness caused by sentimentality. Though there was no doubt that the old Lord cared a great deal for his little girl, he was well aware that her loss would wreak much greater havoc on the world than one more death.

Quickly assessing the situation, she turned to the leading Shades and her companions.

"Can you get us out of sight? The minute the enemy sees Naylia we will be a target of either the main force or an outflanking manoeuvre. Even a small force would overwhelm the handful of us."

Lookng to Carathyle she nodded grimly. He'd hit right to the heart of it. "You're right. It pains me, but we cannot join them. We need to protect Naylia, or all this is in vain. I can see that they're both deployed in classic crescent formations, stronger centres, weaker flanks. I'd expect that from Sultra, and if I expect it, so does Tachar. My biggest concern, however, is that cavalry force at the back. They're fast, mobile and uncommitted and I don't like it. We have to stay unseen."

Ask the Shades to find us somewhere we can hole up in cover and stay out of sight. We absolutely cannot get into the fight at this stage. And that, if you're a bloodthirsty young noblewoman, is frustrating indeed :D

Author:  Carathyle maveric [ Wed Oct 10, 2012 8:41 pm ]
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Carathyle chuckled slightly, "Never thought I'd say this, but Cananatra's way of combat has rubbed off on me it seems." He actually enjoyed the sight of the upcoming battle, even if it decided whether he'd get paid or not.

"The Dark riders are indeed a problem, but leave them to me if need arises. They might be Dalvian, but their horses don't have stone skin like the Jabberwock, they'll die by a Dranach as easily as any other. Talking about steeds, what is Lord Sultra riding? It reminds me of something that shouldn't be here." Carathyle crouched as he gazed over the battlefield in the distance. "If we get into the woods, and Naylia into one of the trees well out of sight, we can stand our ground against the riders. I'm more worried about lightning bolts flying around," Carathyle looked at Syajhel from the corner of his eyes, "Can't have Khaine giving me these favors all the time. That tree would probably stain my chest for eternity, ah well, Aemili's head will hang on my walls eventually."

"And don't be so typical, how much I want to charge in and take my revenge, our priority is right next to us. Khaine knew what he did when he arranged for us five, Seijl included, to work together on this one. Let's just hope he doesn't have too many surprises for us waiting, one can only take so much lightning in a day's time." Carathyle joked on the end, it was his way of venting off stress, and frustration, or did he just joke around with Syjahel for fun?

Author:  Meteor [ Fri Oct 12, 2012 1:04 am ]
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The sight of the two displayed armies were magnificent to say the least. Not as grand as a proper army, it was spoilt by the weaker mercenary units flanking the armoured spears and crossbow. Jacks could see it unfolding already before it truly begun, he had an urge to rush in and test his mettle. See how far his own luck will take him, the recent adventures he had with his companions and the skirmishes they fought had brought on such dare devil risks. But not at the expense of his female companions, mainly Naylia, Jacks hardly thinks Syjahel needs protecting, given her unshakable belief in her own self worth. Jacks started to have respect for his captain, it wasn't just a title anymore in his eyes.

Carathyle's tactical approach further impressed Jacks and brought him more confidence in his group. Perhaps Syjahel's leadership and being responsible and sensible had rubbed off on Carathyle, even if it was just a little. Gazing onwards seemingly transfixed, Jacks let out a sigh as the two collectively agreed on taking Naylia to safety instead. Perhaps it was a sign that Jacks wasn't strong enough to dance alongside an army against another yet. There will be no epic story to tell this time around. Turning back to his group, Jacks unhooked the Null Stone he wore and tossed it to Carathyle.

"If you're hell bent on slaying that witch, then perhaps you'll want a second one. It seems like yours alone isn't strong enough, or is faulty. Whether mine is any better is for you to find out."

"As for keeping Naylia safe, lets retreat deeper into the woods before we're spotted. Put her up that tree, I'll stay up there with her and act as sentry. There are bound to be skirmishers still roaming when two armies clash, as evident by our two new companions. I'm also sure Naylia prefers your company more captain, but I'm not so sure whether armoured warriors fight on trees?" Jacks restrained on the refined jokes, lest his captain struck him down.

Jacks gazed at the more densely packed tree he pointed to, making sure a repeat of what happened to Seijl wasn't about to happen here.

"Will that be alright my lady?" Jacks asked Naylia just to be more polite. The child shows signs of maturity for her age, so he'd be better to treat her like one.

"Hcitb, Elttil, you have any rope? Clearly I'm not as prepared as you two."

Jacks will suggest they take Naylia up a tree and hide her there and tie a rope to her so if she falls, she won't plummet all the way down. Jacks will stay up there with her and keep an eye out for movement. Use his Artifact once up the tree both to observe the colours of the two armies, and the ziggurat, but also as a confirmation of their surroundings for enemies.

Author:  Drainial [ Sat Oct 13, 2012 5:35 pm ]
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Cananatra had seconds to take in the ambush, seconds in which his new allies/captures used profitably to thin the ranks of the human barbarians. After that the chaos marauders were charging and in true Naggarothii fashion, so was Cananatra. Knowing that arrows would have a hard time piercing the thick metal hide of the chaos warrior Cananatra kicked his horse soundly in the ribs and made straight for him. Not for him the pass and slice of a skilled dark herald nor the precision lance stroke of a coldone knight, he simply aimed to ride the bugger down. The large warrior hefted a mighty two handed mace as Cananatra approached and as the elf neared he swept low at the horse's legs. To Cananatra's astonishment however the horse did not fall but rather leapt, hurdling the heavy weapon and striking the warrior a glancing blow with its shoulder. Unfortunately for Cananatra none of this had been his idea, the preternaturally clear or lucky horse acting of its own accord. Not yet comfortable in the saddle the elven warrior found himself out of it, thrown from the back of the beast to land on the ground with just time enough to roll and take out some of the impact.

He knew he had moments at best until some barbarian thug would be on him, fortunately the chaos warrior also needed a few seconds to regain his footing and Cananatra rose just in time to block a thunderous blow on his shield. The great mace, wielded by two strong arms, very nearly sent him straight back on his arse but the tough warrior managed to take the blow. Glorious pleasurable pain shot through his arm and shoulder as he retaliated, striking the champion soundly on the helm and rocking him back. Crude as it looked however the man's armour was thick and strong. Wordlessly the steel sheathed pair set to battle. To call it a duel was to give it an air of respectability, this was a fight to the death but to give them their due the lesser warriors seemed content to let their champion battle alone, warrior to warrior.

They of course had troubles of their own. A continuous bombardment of frighteningly accurate arrows continued to drop them one by one. The forest elves' horses were nimble and as cleaver and with riders who knew how to handle their mounts they were proving very difficult for the infantrymen to come to grips with. The mounted elves would seem to run, vanishing into the trees, only to return from quite another direction with a fresh arrow knocked and ready. The elves did not have it all their own way though. One rider, either careless or unlucky, was driven up against the bole of a large cedar tree and hacked apart by four of the marauders. Even so they had lost over half their force and would surely be routed or destroyed soon enough. Only the champion remained a key threat.

Overlooking the unfolding battle Carathyle surprised everyone by suggesting they keep their distance, realising that the middle of a pitched battle probably wasn’t the safest place for their charge. Instead Syjahel asked the shades to find them a place of relative safety, as shade in residence as it were Jacks decided to take charge of their woodland contingent. First tossing his unused null stone to Carathyle, knowing that he had no desire to get any closer to any enemy sorceress than he would manage, he turned his attention to the problem at hand. Proposing that they put Naylia up a tree for her own safety he turned to the guides
"Hcitb, Elttil, you have any rope? Clearly I'm not as prepared as you two." he asked, the taller of the two, Elttil replied
[b] “I fear not, no more than for traps and snares at any rate. Still there are trees nearby that even a city elf could climb with ease. If we are to do such a thing we would do well to do so quickly, your comrades are correct, unless all have been pulled back into that main force small bands of the beastkin still roam these woods.

These words brought their attention back to the battle below. After another small volley bringing down a dozen or so of the beasts and humans the lines had met. Already blood was flowing thick and fast, mixing with the greyish sand on the ground into a red-ish paste. In the centre the thick ranks of spears were taking a fearsome toll on the mutants and human warriors most of which wore little to no armour. On the right flank things looked a little less fine, the beastman force outnumbered the elven mercenaries and their longer line looked sure to outflank them. Already the semi-circle seemed a little rounder than it had as they sought to cover the sides. Along the left flank the mercenaries seemed to have taken a different tack, having met the beastman charge head on they were edging forwards led by a glittering figure wielding a large pole-axe. This aggression seemed to have confused the children of chaos forcing them to thicken their ranks rather than try to spread out around the flanks. As things stood the battle seemed to be going well enough, but it was very early days and there were still forces uncommitted, not to mention two sorceresses yet to take a hand.

Those were Sutra’s problems however, theirs was to safeguard Naylia until the battle had been won. Retreating a little way down from the ridge they found a tree which met with tentative approval, a triple trunked thing which twisted high up but provided plenty of handholds and places to perch. It would be fairly easy to climb and although that also meant it would be easy for enemies to climb after her they needed something that could be climbed without the aid of a rope. Jacks ascended first, offering a helping hand to Naylia when it was required until the pair of them were perched about half way up. Jacks in a fork between two thick branches, Naylia just above him sitting on one of the two. The others remained below, ready to repel whatever threat might come.

They could still hear the sounds of battle, though as none of them had much experience of pitched battles or all out warfare it was nigh impossible to tell what was going on. For several long minutes nothing much happened, the battle raged on out of sight for those on the ground and Jacks, though he could just about make out the action through his crystalline eye kept a closer watch on the trees below than on the conflict he could not change. As always however their respite was to be brief. A lone Ungor was spotted sticking his head out of a bush, before Jacks could even shout a warning it died, several bolts puncturing its skin. Their guides were proving to be worthy fighters. One Ungor was nothing, an irritation to be batted away. As was often the case however the weakest beastman was merely the forerunner of a more powerful and malign threat. Moments after the Ungor had shown its face another thrust its way through the sparse foliage and emerged. This one was larger, it was also grotesque.

In shape the head was familiar enough, bulbous, round and about the size of a small child with huge flat teeth and no hair. It was an ogre. There though the familiarity ceased. In place of ruddy pink skin the face was covered in splotchy white scales, many were missing and from these lacerations stinking puss seeped down. As it stepped through into plain sight the mercenaries saw that its mutations did not end there. Two huge hands held a knotted branch of petrified stone, probably torn from one of the trees. A third hand, much smaller, sprouted from the monster’s chest and clutched a cleaver. Nearly naked the ogre was clad in rags and was quite plainly not pleased to see them. It wore a studded iron collar around its neck attached to a length of thick chain. Behind the beast and to its side stood a scrawny chested ungor which pointed at the mercenaries and brayed in its own obscene language. Though they could not understand the filthy tongue it did not take a genius to work out just what had been said.


Author:  Cananatra [ Wed Oct 17, 2012 2:44 pm ]
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Digging his heels into the horse Cananatra urged it forward. With a leap it accelerated towards the chaos warrior. It closed the distance with almost disconcerting speed, for all its rough appearance the horse was well conditioned. As the chaos warrior loomed large in his vision Cananatra’s eyes were drawn to its weapon; a heavy two handed mace. It wouldn’t be the first time Cananatra had faced a human worshipper of chaos which carried a large blunt weapon. Nevertheless he knew it would be a contest to remember. He wasn’t surprised when he saw the warrior aim low to take the horse down; he had expected it and was why he had ridden the horse straight at the warrior. What he was surprised about though was the horse seeing this incoming blow deciding to jump it.

As the horse left the earth in a surprising display of agility Cananatra was aware of what was likely to happen over the next few seconds. He could feel his balance going and without a doubt he was in for another intimate encounter with the ground. He was right for when the horses shoulder slammed into the chaos warrior he was jolted free and crashed heavily to the ground. Rolling away from the horse and warrior as he landed Cananatra quickly pushed himself to his feet and used the brief instant of surprise to pull his shield into place. It was just in time too as the heavy mace slammed directly into the shield. This was no deflected shot, no avoided blow, this was a straight on hit which drove his arm back down upon his shoulder and half buckled his legs forcing him into a half crouch. The force sent jolts of pain, quickly followed by pleasure up his arm and shoulder. Rising as the mace was withdrawn Cananatra quickly struck out at the warriors head. The blow was well aimed and the heavy weapon wielded by the warrior would be unlikely to block quickly. As such the longsword slammed into his head, and bounced harmlessly off the solidly, if crudely, designed helm.

Knowing well what sort of opponent such a large mace would be Cananatra drove forward.

Cananatra will drive forward keeping uncomfortably close to the chaos warrior to prevent him from getting a real swing in with his mace. When the warrior next launches a major attack Cananatra will try to drive his sword into the unprotected armpit of the chaos warrior. If he cant get through the plate he’ll aim for places without plate.

Author:  Syjahel [ Thu Oct 18, 2012 12:47 am ]
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Syjahel did not have to wait long in watchful idleness. She was acutely aware of the danger from outflanking forces, so it was good to see that when something finally reared its ugly head the Shades were able to dispatch it. However, there was no time to feel relieved. As soon as the beastman was dead its companions came to join the fray.

The warrior-woman bared her teeth in disgust at the revolting creature before them. Not only was the ogre a grotesque beast in its own right, it was touched by Chaos. It had a handler, though, so she could see the need to get it under control as quickly as possible. Given the size of the creature, she wanted to be sure that the remaining beastman was taken out as soon as possible and the Shades were best placed to do this. It was no time for a discussion on who exactly had precedence of command over the new Autarii - in combat, one works best with one set of clear instructions - so she gestured for them to fire in unison to take it out.

Stepping forward and nodding to Carathyle she brought up her shield and prepared to stand against the massive abomination. If she and her fellow warrior could keep harrying it from both sides, it was massive enough that the Shades could likely shoot high enough to strike it in the head or upper chest. Most importantly of all, it had to be dispatched quickly before anyone noticed who they were guarding.

"Master Maveric, I believe it is time for us to show this ill-mannered brute how one dances in Naggaroth."

Ask the Shades to shoot the beastman first, trusting them to aid with the ogre as applicable. Syjahel knows that she is not able to stand up to being bounced around the scenery by an ogre. So she plans to strike at it with speed and agility, using her superior dexterity to wear it down and keep it wrong-footed with hit and run attacks, hoping that Carathyle will do the same from another angle and thus keep the brute occupied until it realises that it is dead. Disabling blows that hamper its movement would be nice too. She will keep her shield handy for defence and the occasional opportunistic strike, but the main thing here is speed.

Author:  Meteor [ Fri Oct 19, 2012 9:04 am ]
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Looking on as the first of the small beastmen died from quick accurate auturii shooting, Jacks could only wrinkle his nose in disgust at the grotesque creature that emerged afterwards. Jacks instinctively drew his own Repeater Crossbow back and prepared to fire a volley into its head to hurt it. But remembering who they were guarding, he restrained himself from firing anything for the moment. Crouching low into a combat position, Jacks got ready to spring into action if necessary. He looked up and made sure Naylia was secure before he pocketed his artifact and scanned their surroundings for anymore possible beastmen waiting in ambush or trying to sneak up to his position.

"Stay low, your friend will be safe if I have anything to say about it." Jacks reassured Naylia.

It was amusing to see Syjahel take command from a distance, "I suppose she does have what it takes to be a general."

Hold position and scan their surroundings for anymore possible enemies waiting to ambush them or scale his tree. Don't fire in case it brings their attention to Naylia, unless someone needs the cover fire.

Author:  Carathyle maveric [ Sat Oct 20, 2012 2:51 am ]
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The trees grew larger and more in numbers, the sound of combat fainter, and the crisping of leaves underneath their boots was more often than not even in this petrified forest, Carathyle was all but at ease about withdrawing from the sight of battle. Even though it was his proposal to back off to ensure the protection for their charge, Carathyle would have loved to simply end it all with the sorceress there and then. But, this had to wait for another time. Many things happened, his mind can only be focused on one and the one they picked was climbing a petrified tree, the higher the better if you asked Carathyle. Followed by Jacks as a last line of defense, Naylia was high up and safe as ever, or safe as she could be. However, the two shades that were assisting them still made Carathyle wary. New Druchii weren’t a pleasing sight for the noble mercenary, even if they were employed by their own employer, Carathyle knew what Druchii nature was, and being ‘The saviors of Naylia’ is something rather astonishing for a shade.

His ears however were warier than the rest. In an environment where sight is limit and noise was their only accurate way to hear if someone, or thing, was approaching. The battle in the far distance could be faintly heard, whether it bode well for Sultra or not had yet to be seen. The two sorceresses didn’t bother being commentators over the battle, no magically amplified speeches were echoed anymore and only the sound of pure steel meeting crude steel could be heard.

It was then that his ears picked up stomping. Even though Carathyle had seen more creatures in the past few days than in his entire life, something told him that they decided wrong. The sword at his side tingled, sending an even more terrifying feeling down his spine. The flinging of the strings spun on the crossbows snapped a bolt away, drawing Carathyle’s attention. Shifting his position to face the now dead ungor, Carathyle grasped the hilt of his sword, ”Well, this can’t be good.” he muttered. And like most expected from beastmen, the monstrosity that followed was more ugly than even humans were.

”Abyss preserve us.” Carathyle muttered as his eye fell on the giant chaos Ogre. It’s head standing well above theirs. However, in the face of danger, it were the brashest that laughed, in the face of uneven odds, it were the Druchii that stood proudly and battle-ready.

With a clear display of his anger, one he reserved for the sorceress now well out of his reach, Carathyle took the obsidian blade out of its sheath once more and moved his shield to bear. Syjahel though was the first to move, as she stepped next to Carathyle who’s idle form didn’t display much of defensive reasoning. With a clean remark about what to do, Carathyle grinned near demonically, ”I thought you never asked, milady. Let’s send this abomination back to its owner in pieces.”

Take the opposite side of Syjahel, and start cutting through the soft skin of the Ogre with whole gaping holes at a time. GOT to love strength 4 and an increased strength while using the obsidian longsword.

Author:  Drainial [ Tue Oct 23, 2012 4:49 pm ]
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Shaking off the impact from the Chaos champion's last attack Cananatra resolved to try and pin the terrible mace close in to the human's body and deny him the great arcing blows he needed. It wasn't going to be easy, the barbarian was both fast and strong. With his stone-hide shield held squarely against his shoulder the elven warrior summoned his reserves of strength and hurled himself at the champion. In response the barbarian swung a heavy blow across his chest, the flanged head crashing into the bodged defence and almost shaking it apart. Cananatra yelled in pain and fury as the impact threatened to tear his shoulder from its socket, his body did not let him down however and a flood to ecstatic pain drove him onwards to drive the mace back into the human's chest. A battle of strength ensued, the barbarian attempting to hurl this impertinent elf off of him and free his weapon, Cananatra calling on all he could to keep on the pressure and keep the barbarian on the back foot. As he pushed Cananatra embraced the pain radiating through his left arm and back, letting it fuel his anger as he struck repeatedly at the warrior's flank. Despite the armour's crude construction however it held against his attacks, this close in the length of Seijl's elegant masterwork sword worked against its new owner.

With a bellow almost as bestial as the Gors the human gave a huge push, thrusting Cananatra away from him and sending the elf back a few steps. With his mace freed for another massive killer swing the chaos warrior raised his great weapon high. In this moment Cananatra saw his opportunity. His relentless battering against the wrought iron armour had left a small buckled rent in his side. Lunging forwards Cananatra stretched out his blade, raising his shield over his head against the incoming blow, he knew that if it fell that defence would not spare him. The slender blade of Naggarothi steel, worked by a master smith and quenched in the blood of dozens if not hundreds of despicable creatures and noble warriors, slid like a thread through a needle into the chaos champion's flesh. Knowing that the warrior could well live on if only for a few minutes more he rammed forward, knocking the human onto his back mace and all. Regaining his feet Cananatra twisted and wrenched his sword free and, gasping for breath after the furious battle, looked around.

The defeat of their champion was academic for the rest of the warbarnd since for the most part they were already dead. Cananatra watched as the prince ran through the last of them with his ornate bronze spear, the weapon tearing through flesh like a hot knife through butter for all its arcane design. One of the elves had died along with his mount but the rest seemed to have avoided serious injury. As if sensing that it was once again needed Cananatra was surprised by the nudge of his horse's nose on the back of his neck. Turning round he realised that they would be moving on yet again and hoisted himself back into the saddle.
"Come battle-born, onward we go," the feral prince commanded and they formed up again. Before they could get underway however the forest revealed yet more surprises. As silvery shape burst through the trees behind them, fox like in form it floated in the air. Insubstantial and ghostlike the being left a faint trail of sliver glittering in its wake. Immediately Cananatra drew the sword he had just sheathed but the natives did not appear alarmed, merely interested.

"Leaf-Home-Prince," the fox thing spoke with the voice of an elven maiden "The sun travels fast through the heavens. Battle is joined, outworlder against outworlder and the Wyrd. Battle-born march, to the dark-glade come!" With that the silver ghost faded like the morning mist, perhaps this was some kind of friendly spirit, perhaps a conjured messenger, in either case the prince and his retinue seemed to take it at its word.
"The Dark-glade unto," the Prince seemed if anything more animated than he had been so far. When the horses ran this time Cananatra was forced to abandon any pretence that he was in control of the beast as it simply followed on after the leading horses. Clinging to the reins he stooped low against his steed's neck and hung on for dear life knowing that each step took him closer to open battle and the prospect of death renewed.


As Cananatra rushed towards the battle the remaining mercenaries hid from it but in the true spirit of Naggaroth they found no peace among the woodlands, only fresh terrors. As she was wont to do Syjahel assumed command, telling the shades to take out the un-gor handler knowing that their bolts would likely be mere irritations to the ogre. Perhaps they heeded the confident tones of an aristocratic commander, maybe they understood sensible orders when they heard them, maybe they ignored her altogether and simply did as they saw fit up whatever the reasons the two shades sent the handler to meet its maker. Any vague hope that this would free the ogre to run was dashed as it bellowed something in its own incomprehensible language and charged directly at the gathered mercenaries.

Up in the tree Jacks itched to join his brothers in raining death upon the chaos scum but recognising that he could add little they could not and that a keen eye would be more useful than an extra crossbow just at this moment Jacks stayed quiet and kept a look out. Climbing up a little higher he saw through the branches and caught a glimpse of the battle unfolding. The Druchii left and centre were holding well but on the right the line had been pushed back almost to breaking point. Scores of bodies lined the ground both elven and chaos. Both of the cavalry reserves remained as they were but Jacks knew that if Sultra did not do something soon the right flank would soon give way. On the left the battle was going quite differently, there it was the beastmen giving way but not fast enough. Overall the battle appeared to be in a stalemate. That was until on the raised alter the two Sorceresses raised their staffs. Even through the dense stone foliage Jacks could feel the heat as a bolt of blue fire twisted through the heavens to engulf Sultra and his mounted retinue. Bellow him Jacks heard little Naylia squeak "Daddy", presumably sensing the battle magic. Jacks himself looked on worried, he might not love the old lord but if he was dead the battle was as good as lost. As the flames cleared however they revealed a dozen elves reasserting their control over their horses but with nary a scorch mark on them. Clearly Sultra had more of the null talismans than just those given to them, whether he had enough for the whole army though they could not be sure.

Carathyle and Syjahel had no time for this however being far more concerned with the oncoming ogre. Fanning out to either side both drew their swords. They knew that to kill this creature they would need to be agile and co-ordinated. They could not stand against it toe to toe. As it charged towards them however the ogre displayed surprising speed. Fast as it was however the elves were much faster and both Carathyle and Syjahel managed to side step its furious charge and lash out with their blades. Syjahel's master work sword ripped a long wound across its belly, to her surprise however she was unable to reach its guts, the stomach being more muscle and fat. Carathyle's enchanted blade bit deeper gauging a trench in its scaly chest. Fountains of blood accompanied these wounds but for all that the ogre seemed hardly to notice. Whirling round the fiend ignored the bolts of the shades thudding into its back as it lashed out with its petrified branch at Syjahel. The elf was quicker but the ogre had a huge reach and she only had time to raise her shield before the branch caught her. The massive blow lifted her from the ground and sent her sprawling through the air to land heavily several feet away. If not for her armour she would certainly have been dead, as it was every bone in her body hurt and she was certain at least one rib was cracked. Her shield arm had taken a terrible beating and very likely was also fractured but fortunately not so broken it could not be used, if with great pain. Roaring in triumph the ogre raised his branch up high and set off after her, looking to end the elven captain once and for all.


The sounds of battle were growing louder now, Cananatra could hear them. These forest elves seemed to have the same uncannily acute senses as Jacks and had noticed them ten minutes ago while Cananatra heard nothing, now though the clash of steel on steel was unmistakeable. Here and there he noticed other elves, the warriors of these forest folk flitting through the trees. A few were mounted, most were on foot. Rounding a low hill the little mounted squadron finally saw what they were faced with. Sultra's army was fully engaged only the lord himself with his retinue held back. Likewise the chaos army was at full extension. With a whoosh a fireball erupted in the midst of the elven lines sending half a dozen up into the air, that was one thing Sultra did not have, mages. Looking up Cananatra saw two elven females including the sorceress Aemili ontop of a giant alter, it was not difficult to deduce who was casting the spells.

"You know out-word-battle, Battle-born. Where do we strike?" the prince surprised Cananatra by asking his advice. Then again this kind of warfare must have been new to the elf, born into a world of bowmen and skirmishers.

Cananatra is now at the battle, he is on the opposite side of the clearing from the others and is behind the chaos lines with the small forest elf strike team. Syjahel is quite badly beaten up but is still in working order as it were. The ogre is facing her, has his right side facing the tree with Naylia and Jacks in it (other shades as the base) and has his back to Carathyle. -Drainial

Author:  Meteor [ Wed Oct 24, 2012 3:46 am ]
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Jacks' eyes widened as his Captain was sent flying, it looked painful, and it was. Jacks couldn't assess the damage all too clearly, but whilst armour protected against stabbing, it certainly didn't protect against heavy impacts. His heartbeat stopped as he realised the Ogre was going off to finish Syjahel off, without skipping a heartbeat, Jacks tossed his Repeater Crossbow to Naylia, whether she caught it or not he did not care. "Use it to protect yourself as you see fit, I'm going in I'm sorry."

"Hctib take over my post" Jacks yelled as he leaped down Sword and Handbow in hands.

"Come here you damned abomination, like hell I'll let you tarnish my reputation!"

Toss the Repeater Crossbow to Naylia so she can defend herself, ask Hctib to take his place in the tree and if he's in reach, leap onto the Ogre. If not, leap down and charge, keeping awareness of a counter lash by the brute. If it did that much damage to an armoured warrior, Jacks will undoubtedly get screwed if hit.

Author:  Syjahel [ Wed Oct 24, 2012 8:55 pm ]
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Unaware of the battle over the rise, Syjahel was concerned with her little corner of the woods and keeping her charge safe. Carathyle instantly caught on to her plan, which allowed a fierce grin to form on her pale face for a moment, and then it was on to the fight.

It was a furious, nimble melee that only an Elf could hope to compete in. As it was, the ogre was a fearsome opponent, and the force of its blows fell like rocks thrown by gods. She slipped past its guard and scored a hit, but it wasn't enough - likely it would take many such blows to take it down, as she'd predicted. If she could only stay fast and mobile -

Without ceremony the ogre lashed out with its club and instead of being a fraction outside the area of the blow, Syjahel found herself a few inches short of safety. This was all it took. Like a thunderbolt, the tree branch struck her and threw her into the air. She was reminded of the litter of Black Guard tossed aside by the lamia's hideous strength like autumn leaves. Pain bloomed and amid the flashes, she could see scenes like stilled moments in time. Row upon row of spears, drannach piercing the sky like the needle-teeth of a serpent. Her father's proud smile as she brought him her first severed head. The stark towers of her home, so far away. The fall of straight black hair as one of the household knights removed his helm. A rising green wave ...

She could hear cries all right, but they were from a much smaller multitude than she remembered from those days she had never seen. Stunned and aching, she cursed the pain and threw herself to her feet with an oath. Unsteadily, she readied her shield again, more for form than function, and brought up her sword. The warrior-noblewoman was sorely hurt, but she was not dead and she swore, with each painful breath, that until she drew her last she would fight.

The ogre was charging towards her, and she knew she did not have Cananatra's strength to brace and make it rip open its own guts on her blade. But it was heavy, unwieldy. Such a bulk took time to get underway and once the freight was moving it was not easily slowed. Watching and waiting, she bided her time, urging the monster on with a warcry of her own. If she could dodge and keep dodging, she would gain some time to wear it down and let the others catch up to the battle. More than this, the forest trees were close and if Khaine prevailed, she could lead the dumb brute to smack straight into one and then stab it while it was stunned in turn.

"For Nagarythe! FOR KHAINE!"

Try to lead the charging Ogre to run at her then move aside faster than it can so that it slams into a tree before it can brake. Then slash at the backs of its legs to disable it. At the very least, stay the heck out of the way.

Author:  Carathyle maveric [ Sat Oct 27, 2012 6:55 pm ]
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Carathyle will, in accordence to the rest, try and sever the spine WITHOUT losing the sword. If the ogre is still walking, catch up with it, hope their captain has a plan for herself. The moment the ogre attacks and brings the branch to the ground. When he does, cut the hands off!

Author:  Cananatra [ Mon Oct 29, 2012 2:02 pm ]
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Jumping forward Cananatra tried to limit the room the chaos warrior had to swing his large weapon. Just before he closed though the warrior took the chance to slam a ferocious blow into him. The large mace struck his shield with a resounding boom and the make shift fastenings noticeably loosened. Such was the force of the blow that the shock translating through the shield almost broke his shoulder. Pain exploded out of the tortured joint but just like every time since donning the amulet the pain was accompanied by the greatest of pleasures. Buoyed up by the mixed sensation he continued to push forward, probably surprising the chaos warrior as his own mace was forced backwards to rest against his breastplate. The chaos warrior was strong though, and with a slight adjustment of his stance prevented himself from being moved. A battle of strength soon unfolded, each trying to force the other backwards. Unfortunately for the chaos warrior his weapon was pinned while Cananatra’s was free to swing into his flank, over and over.

Realising perhaps that being pounded on by a sword while unable to use his mace was a situation he didn’t want to be in the chaos warrior called on some unknown reserve of strength and with a bestial growl forced his mace forward away from his chest with such force it thrust Cananatra back a few paces. Sensing victory the chaos warrior raised his weapon high to finish the fight. Unfortunately for him this revealed his whole torso to Cananatra’s gaze and the elf quickly noticed the buckled armour which he had been pounding on earlier. With a gleeful snarl Cananatra thrust his blade through the twisted metal and forced the well made Druchii steel deep into the chaos warriors chest. Following the thrust with a body charge to avoid the mace both warriors fell to the ground.

Pulling himself to his feet Cananatra dragged his sword free of the now very dead chaos warrior. As he did a fresh pulse of pain came from his shoulder. Damn useful ability that. Still disconcerting but pleasure to mask pain is proving itself unusually effective. Looking around he could see the rest of the warband was dead, though they had taken one elf with them. Before he could do anything such as relieve the humans of their gold the elven leader had rode over and was exhorting them onwards. Realistically the prospect of helping in a battle was a good reason to rush Cananatra was forced to admit.


The battle came into view as the rode around a small hill. Sultra was sorely pressed on his flank and the rain of magic was not helping things. Just as he was wondering where they would strike the elven leader turned to him and asked his advice. Great, so the leader of this bunch doesn’t know how to fight a battle and he wants me to show him how. Well, what we have to do we do.
“My lord, Sultra’s outworld battle host is being sorely pressed on the flank there,” Cananatra gestured to the collapsing flank. “Your host needs to attack the enemy’s rear there. Relieve the pressure and perhaps even throw them into confusion. While that is happening I’ll take a dozen of your best brawlers and ride for those magic users. If we can remove their magic support and turn the flow on that flank we can win this fight.”

Cananatra will hope the prince will go along with that, but he’ll go wherever he’s ordered. At the end of the day he isn’t going to charge an army alone.

Author:  Drainial [ Mon Oct 29, 2012 7:33 pm ]
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Syjahel was in trouble, something which prompted an immediate reaction from her self appointed guardians. Beyond any kind of communal warrior's code both Carathyle and Jacks seemed to have formed an emotional attachment to their captain and would be damned if anything should happen to her on their watch. Jacks in particular threw caution to the wind. Tossing aside his trusty repeater her drew his sword instead and leapt down from his branch, making his way down the tree far more quickly than he had gone up. Bolts flashed past his head as Hectib and Elital continued to pepper the ogre with their own repeaters only to show just how ineffectual the weapons appeared to be against this foe. As he ran across the grass Carathyle was also moving towards the ogre, his obsidian sword pulsing warmly in his hands, a ward against the Naggarothi chill even in springtime.

As fast as they reacted through the ogre was not slow. Surprisingly swift in its rage the ogre had reach on its side and Syjahel was still scrambling to her feet when the brute smashed his petrified club straight down on her head. As the club began to descend another cry could be heard, sharper and higher than the ogre's roar or the elven warrior's war calls. Up in her little nest Naylia shouted
"NO!" it was a note that carried anger and pain, distress and command. It was a note that carried magic.

Just as the club was about to strike home, surely destined to shatter Syjahel's skull in spite of her fine helm, a shock of silver ran across her flesh and out across her armour. It radiated out from the point of impact, a silvery shield encompassing her form. The club bounced away leaving an elven captain surprised to still be alive and wondering what the warm, safe feeling was emanating from the centre of her chest, under the armour. She wore two things there. One was the null stone Sultra had given them shortly before entering the forest now likely broken; the other a simple necklace. A shard of an old and battered shield that had seen her through hard times carved in the shape of the Khadath rune. A keep sake for a simple piece of kit yet treasured for its memories. It had never before shown any sign of special gifts, but sure as she was a lady of house Vasht Syjahel knew that was where this feeling of strength, and fortitude came from.

The Ogre's scarred and ruined face took on a look of almost comic surprise at this turn of events. This was replaced by its former look of pain and rage as the others joined the fray. Having extracted himself from the tree Jacks hurried accross the small space and slashed into the ogre's side with his short sword. He was rewarded with snort of what might have been pain and a splash of crimson blood. Knowing that he was vulnerable Jacks was ready to dart out again as the beast would surely turn his way but at that moment Carathyle joined the fray. Not so light footed as Jacks Carathyle was never the less closer and what was more he carried a greater weapon than Jacks' trusty short sword. With a mighty swing Carathyle felt the blade part skin, flesh and muscle cutting deep into the monster's back. This time the creature roared in agony but as his sword crashed into bone Carathyle knew it would not yield so easily. Wrenching his blade free he was just in time not to have it wrenched from his hands by the far stronger ogre as it tried to turn on ponderous legs. Jacks slashed again, drawing a gash accross its belly but was forced to duck away as the smaller, third arm nearly sheared off half his face.

The ogre now having turned away from her Syjahel recovered from her surprise quickly enough to realise that they were still in great danger and that Carathyle would be lucky to avoid the fate she herself had just been saved from. Never one to shirk frontline duty she sliced deeply into the open back of the ogre's leg, her master crafted blade hamstringing it. Bellowing the ogre fell to one knee but it remained a dangerous combatant. Letting its club fall to the ground the ogre lunged forwards and caught Carathyle round the middle. Mighty even sorely wounded the ogre lifted the warrior from the ground like an elf may lift a child and screamed into his face in a display of primitive dominance. He was far from in the clear, they all were.


Cananatra was free from the threat of a rampaging chaos ogre but he was about to enter the lion's den. At least he did not do so unsupported. Directing the forest elves to support the failing flank of Sultra's army he requested a crack squad to accompany him in pursuit of the sorceresses. The prince said nothing to Cananatra but on brief consultation with his retinue of warriors seemed to assent to this plan. One of the riders was sent as a messenger and within minutes the beastmen began to fall. The rear ranks of the beastman herd began to sprout arrows and although not all the forest elves were focousing their fire as ordered the majority were targetting the flank most likely to break through. On the other flank the elves were continuing to make ground, looping around the end of the Beastman line and beginning to push it back into the centre. In the centre itself the fighting was at its bloodiest. The elves gave no sign of wavering but neither did their enemies and dispite the scores already dead the chaos forces still outnumbered the druchii.

As Cananatra contemplated all of this more riders were assembling, their five grew to eight, then ten, twelve and finally sixteen riders were gathered including the prince and Cananatra himself. In addition to bows with all held long bronze spears and although he had doubts about their efficiency Cananatra could not doubt their courage. The arrows were already beginning to have an effect, this attack from the rear being unlooked for and demoralsing for the ill disciplined beastmen. Another blast of magic incinerating half a dozen warriors at a stroke reminded them though that the sorceresses still needed to be dealt with.

The forest prince raised his spear and pointed it out into the open. With the customary silence of these people the soft thunder of the horses hooves was all there was to announce them as this strike force burst out from between the trees. Racing for the ziggurat they threw up clouds of dust. Arrows sprang for their bows but it was only when he saw who they were aimed at that Cananatra saw that he had overlooked a vital detail. Far from being undefended a score of heavily armoured riders; elven knights and human champions, were wheeling their cumbersome mounts around to face them. The bows rang out but the knights, sheathed in skins of steel much like his own, barely registered these irritations. Some cannier elves shifted their arrows to the horses instead but even some of these were armoured. A few fell, not enough. The block of knights was facing them now, a collection of spears, swords and maces fit to stock an armoury. In contrast to the forest elves they charged with laud war cries and the jangle of spirit bells to announce them. To their credit the forest elves did not flinch at the sound. With what sounded almost like laughter the prince led his few riders’ right into the heart of the storm of steel. There was no way to avoid the charge now, no time to retreat.

The first clash was horrible and telling, lances toppled three elves right off the mark and the crunch of heavier horses against the lightly clad forest dwellers saw two more bludgeoned out of the fight almost immediately. These though in spite of their lack of armour were the woodland elite and if there were to die they would not die unavenged. An old warrior with grey in his hair wove around a searching lance to thread the narrow end of his spear through the visor of a huge chaos knight, toppling the giant. Another, a female with flaming red hair much like that of the prince ignored the bulk of iron that was her opponent and instead sent her spear through the neck of his horse, the beast fell and with it the knight, unlikely to rise again in the thrashing of hooves. It was the prince himself though how looked to be most impressive. Parrying an elven sword he sought out the the elf at the very centre of the front rank, and elf in armour so intricate Cananatra was not sure there were any week points for that antique spear to find. As it happened he needed none. That old bronze spear split enchanted steel like the sting of a hornet through the pink skin of a young kitten and sent the elven champion to the earth. Even with these victories however more and more elves were falling. This was a battle they would be hard pressed to win. Not confident on horseback Cananatra was at the very edge of combat, before him lay the cream of the chaos host, behind him the sorceresses, likely too much to tackle alone even if their magic would not touch him. Almost out of sight, on the very edge of his senses, he saw Sultra's own cavalry force begin to move but what they might do, where they might go he had no way of knowing.

Syjahel finally has her magic item, I hope she is happy with it. The ogre is badly wounded and surounded and is crippled on one leg. However he had a death grip on Carathlye whose ribs would now be poking into his lungs if it wasn't for his armour. Syjahel is behind the ogre, Jacks is to one side of him.

The grand battle is starting to favour Sultra's forces with the aid of the forest elves but in the cavalry battle the forest elves are at a distinct disadvantage. Two knights were un-horsed by arrows but are now alive and on foot and three have fallen in combat however five forest elves have been killed. That leaves 15 chaos knights in combat with 10 glade riders + Cananatra (albiet rather badass glade riders). -Drainial

Author:  Meteor [ Fri Nov 02, 2012 2:34 am ]
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Jacks looked on in astonishment as a silver shield manifested itself between Syjahel and death itself. Was it sorcery? Jacks had no idea how it happened, but he wasn't about to see it happen again any time soon. Carathyle and himself begun to slash at the monster in an effort to divert its attention away from Syjahel, with Jacks being more cautious, darting in and out since he lacked armour. It gave him a necessity to stay alert and to be constantly more mobile to avoid injury or even death, like how the monster's third arm nearly clawed off half of his face.

Carathyle however, wasn't so lucky, as he was instantly grabbed in a death grip as soon as its leg gave way when his captain bit back. Alarmed and on instinct, Jacks charged for its arm, flashing out a throwing dagger in a backhanded grip, he twisted his body and made ready to stab it in, keeping a constant eye out for the smaller arm.

Jacks plans to stab his dagger into the arm of the Ogre, as deep as he can, and run it along the entire length of its arm to inflict as much damage and pain for as long as possible. Jacks will put his sword away if he'll need both hands to run the dagger along the arm. Keep an eye on the smaller arm and break away if it lashes at him.

Author:  Carathyle maveric [ Mon Nov 05, 2012 1:17 am ]
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With the Ogre's hand firmly wrapped around his chest, Carathyle could only praise Khaine for medium armor. His ribs felt the pressure, his legs as well, but unfortunately for the Ogre, Carathyle's reflexes had been honed. His arms were still free, and as of such, he knew straight away what he had to do.

Looking around for as much as he could, Carathyle checked where Jacks was. The shade was nimble, and fast, but also vulnerable. If it was the shade that had been caught, things would look even grimmer for the group. The ogre loud out a feral roar, trying to be dominant in the situation, but little was there to impress the hardened Druchii Nobleman, one of many that killed his own father in cold blood. He clearly never heard of mint. Carathyle thought as he moved his left arm. Releasing the shield from his grasp, Carathyle dropped it to the floor, clearing his off-hand from obstacles. What he as planning, required a bit of strength, one of which the warrior did not lack. "Nobody stands higher than I do." Carathyle whispered to himself, as he placed the tip of the sword against the knuckle of the Ogre's thumb. Being the only thing that is well within teach and if it was severed it would create a gap to escape through, in the most positive way possible.

With risk of getting squashed to pieces, Carathyle took the sword in both hands, tip pointing down toward the thumb of the ogre. Put trust in you, your companions, and your sword. May the old ways give you strength on the battlefield, and confidence in normal life. Carathyle thought to himself, quoting an old saying his tutor told him during smithing and training.

Carathyle will jam the sword between the knuckles of the giant's thumb, and he'll be relentless in it. If the giant loosens its grip on Carathyle and he'll "fall"(remember, the sword is in a two handed grasp and Carathyle's muscles are used), he'll use his weight and sudden motion to pull the sword through the skin. Otherwise, he'll hang on, or simply pull himself up.

Author:  Cananatra [ Mon Nov 05, 2012 11:47 am ]
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The air whipped past his face as he and his new allies charged across the field towards the magic users. On the flank the rest of the elven reinforcements where successfully harrying the chaos army from the rear and hopefully taking out the sorceress would break their back. Unfortunately though, the chaos cavalry was ready and more than eager to intercept the attempted killing of their magic users and quickly counter charged.

When they came together the sound was deafening and though the woodland elves where lightly armoured they made up for it with skill. The prince’s apparently magical blade helped too. The chaos forces had all the advantages though. Being left without an opponent of his own Cananatra picked one pressing one of his allies and charged. Hopefully Sultra saw what was going on and would move his cavalry force to intercept in time.

Cananatra will ride back into the thick of things and aim to take enemies from behind when they press the woodland elves.

OOC: Unusual to be in the middle of the charge and miss everyone and everyone miss me.

Author:  Drainial [ Thu Nov 08, 2012 5:30 pm ]
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Carathyle could feel his ribs creaking under the relentless pressure of the ogre's crushing grip and knew that even with his armoured shell he would soon succumb to the terrible beast. That was of course if neither he nor his companions did anything about it. Jacks on the contrary was quick to respond, sheathing his sword he flashed out his long hunting knife, taking it in both hands he capitalised on the ogre's fixation on Carathyle to plunge it deep into the mutant's left arm. The thing was bellowing already so it was difficult to tell whether or not it truly felt the stab but Jacks was determined to make it sit up and take notice. Hauling back on the hilt he sawed back through flesh and skin, the tip grinding along bone. It was slow going for the ogre's flesh refused to give way with any grace and the shade was nimble rather than strong. Still the thick blood spurting out of the creature of chaos was surely more than it could afford to ignore.

Never the less the ogre was not letting go, Carathyle would have to take matters into his own hands. Letting his shield fall to the floor he took a double handed hold on the magical sword and awkwardly tried to position it over the ogre's thumb. It wasn't easy, the pressure was making it difficult to breathe and now visible finger dents were starting to show in his breast plate, the steel biting lightly into his skin beneath the thick leather Khaitan. Stabbing down he missed the ogre's thumb but sliced instead into its hand, the fury and spite of Coriath lending it the strength that Jacks lacked to cut through bone and skewer the meaty paw. This certainly got the mutated creature's attention. With its hand impaled it reflexively let go, Carathyle had a short, sharp drop, keeping his hands fastened tightly around the hilt he absent mindedly ripped the blade clean through the ogre's hand, cutting it in half and sending three fingers cascading to the ground.

As he fell to earth in a short sharp drop Carathyle could not help but reflect that this happened to him quite allot. Lying on the floor he gasped for breath following a death grip coupled with having the wind knocked out of him. Never the less there was no time to rest just yet, the ogre was wounded but still very much alive and dangerous. With its arms no longer taken up by Carathyle the ogre swiped left at Jacks forcing the nimble shade to duck, leaving his dagger embedded in its arm. This did buy time for Carathyle to scramble back to his feet, leaning on the hilt of his sword as he fought to regain his usual fighting spirit. Behind all this Syjahel stood as though stunned by her magical reprieve but her sword would surely be needed if they were to conquer in this battle.

The true battle of course was happening just over the rise. With the aid of the forest elves arrows the Druchii force was gaining the upper hand. The left flank had stopped retreating while the right had already been won. With the aid of the victorious mercenaries from the right flank now pouring around the hard core of the chaos centre that too was beginning to buckle though not without the loss of many more lives. Only the deadly flashes from the sorceresses gave any hope to the chaos forces and though dangerous they were too few to turn the tide of battle.

It was a different story however in the cavalry battle. The charge was spent and with it the element of surprise. The chaos and traitor Druchii knights had a decisive advantage at close quarters and they capitalised on it ruthlessly. Lightly armoured and small they were not at home in this struggle and their numbers continued to dwindle, the old greying warrior died with an axe near bisecting him, though before he died he managed to leave his spear deep inside the warrior's armpit, a wound the knight would not long survive. The prince continued his heroics, felling another champion but he took a long slice to the chest for his pains, the magic of his armour clearly not so potent as that in his spear. Not the mess Cananatra rode, a wiry female was struck from this world, horse and all disappearing under the blows of a huge warhammer. This looked to be as good a target as any. Unlike the forest elves Cananatra was also heavily armoured but he was no master horseman. Taking a simple and direct course he charged forwards into slashing distance and taking advantage of the huge warhammer's weight struck before it could be brought to bear again. Smashing his sword into the neck of the human champion he found he could not slice through for the armour was too thick. In a series of swift blows however he toppled the human from the saddle, his sword was not even nicked, the benefit of master crafted work. More and more of his allies were dying however, two more had fallen leaving just four alongside the prince and himself. His actions had not gone unnoticed and as a large and fearsome warrior coated from head to toe in armour of shining gold with blue enamelled spirals upon the shoulders struck out at him with a winged mace Cananatra was hard pressed to defend himself let along strike back. To their credit the forest elves showed no sign of trying to flee and yet they had to know as well as he did that barring a miracle they would not survive this day.

A miracle game in the form of a trumpet. High and clear it was a Druchii bugle of the highest tradition and surely heralded but one thing. Sure enough seconds later the mass of chaos bodies seemed to ripple and convulse as a wedge of true elven knights smashed into their rear. Three chaos warriors fell at once; two pierced by several black ash lances and one decapitated by Sultra's ensorcelled sword. The ancient lord look more furious than Cananatra had ever seen him, his face a mask of rage held in check by a will of iron and ice. Another two of the traitorous knights fell as the rest of Sultra's party made their presence felt for these were the very cream of his warriors, the finest fighters and noblest retainers of his house. From time to time the mercenaries played at being retainers to their self appointed noble captain but these were the real deal. Courtiers and combatants; fit for both the dinner table and the slaughter in equal measure. From the fish knife to the mace there was no instrument with which they were not familiar.

And yet for all this the foes they faced were no callow youths but the chosen of Chaos and of house Dalvar. Facing off with his gold clad adonis Cananatra took another shuddering blow on his raised shield and relied upon the pulsing beat of the amulet against his skin to give him the strength to resist and remain in the saddle. It was not easy for the knight was both skilled and extraordinarily strong. The battle had turned decisively in the favour of the loyalist Druchii and their forest dwelling allies but it was a battle that was not yet concluded.

The ogre is in increasingly bad shape; it now has a crippled leg, a crippled hand and a dagger in its arm however it is still alive and dangerous. Carathyle is just in front of it and has managed to get up again. Jacks is to the left hand side of it now without a weapon in his hand. Syjahel is right behind it.

As for the battle the infantry one is going the Druchii's way. Of the forest elf cavalry there is only the prince and four others left. However eight of the chaos knights have been felled by the forest elves, Cananatra and the charge of Sultra and his retainers. That leaves just seven left. Sultra is accompanied by eleven retainers all equipped and mounted as knights (picture silver helms but Druchii) making an even dozen. Striking from behind and fully armoured they are yet to take any casualties. -Drainial

Author:  Carathyle maveric [ Sun Nov 11, 2012 3:02 pm ]
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The sword ripped through the hand near perfect, as gravity pulled Carathyle back to the ground. The moment his feet touched the ground, he collapsed in on himself, kneeling on the spot. The feeling of having no oxygen in his lungs was slightly terrifying to most, but Carathyle had his fair share already.

His will however was ever lasting it seemed. Quickly regaining his momentum, Carathyle raised to a stance fairly quickly considering the dented chestplate and what not, and felt like he was ready to attack once more. His eyes caught sight of Jacks being unarmed for most part, and Syjahel ever behind the Ogre, which gave Carathyle a rather extreme idea.

"Syjahel! Cut other leg! Let's make sure he can't move anymore!" He shouted, hopefully the ogre wouldn't understand the threat the person behind him would form if she did as suggested.

Carathyle however, didn't want to risk her getting trapped herself, and quickly took up the role of distraction. With the sword in only a single hand, he lunged and started aiming for the large stomach.

Carathyle will attack the ogre head-on, trying to rip its guts out from there while paying close attention for the two arms. If one of them attacks, he'll simply try and cut it off, and as a last resort roll away.

OOC: I've been terribly busy lately and I normally can't post during the days, and my mum started being a complete biatch and forces me to go to bed at 11PM(I'm used to spending nights up to 5AM... so... that's probably the reason.)

Author:  Cananatra [ Sun Nov 11, 2012 3:11 pm ]
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When the cultists counter charge had slammed into the advancing forest elves Cananatra had been taken completely by surprise. It was a telling reminder that he was not exactly a general. Nevertheless the forest elves where fighting well, and not one to sit on the sideline while others done the fighting Cananatra urged his horse into the thick of it. As he pushed into the combat a red headed warrior beside him was pulped by a large warhammer and deciding its wielder was a good a target as any he charged forward before the warrior could ready himself. Cutting high, above the warhammer which was being slowly raised Cananatra thundered a blow into the warriors neck. Irritatingly this warrior, like the other, had decided the defining quality of armour was its thickness and the masterwork sword bounced harmlessly off. Not to be deterred by this setback, and noticing his opponent was overbalanced Cananatra continued to rain blows down on the neck and head of the chaos warrior. Unable to get his warhammer into position the warrior could do nothing but take the blows and soon was unhorsed, tumbling comically backwards to clatter to the ground.

He was about to urge his horse forward to trample the fallen warrior but another seemed to think this was a good time to engage him. This warrior had surprisingly fancy looking armour but he wielded his weapon, a flanged mace, with enough skill to prove the armour was not just for show. Blocking furiously Cananatra managed to deflect the rain of incoming blows with a combination of shield and sword but it was difficult to find an opening to strike back. Above the sound of battle Cananatra could hear a Druchii horn sounding a charge, luckily it seemed Sultra had arrived and though it sounded like the chaos followers where being ground down by it Cananatra still had to deal with the one ahead of him who was disconcertingly relentless with his attacks.

Choosing not to keep up with the horseman vs horseman contest Cananatra swung his horse slightly and after a mace strike struck out with his sword.
Cananatra is striking with his blade at the face of his opponents horse in the hopes that it will stumble/rear/buck/twist ect giving him enough of an opening to either unhorse his opponent or at least get some decent strikes in on him while he’s distracted.

Author:  Syjahel [ Sun Nov 11, 2012 3:51 pm ]
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It was as if time stood still. One moment the warrior-woman knew for a certainty that she was going to join Khaine. The next the visions of the serried ranks of the glorious dead were replaced by a silver flash of light, a single, small high voice crying "NO!". Her heart stopped for barely a moment, stuttering back into life as she felt a safe, cocooning feeling spread out from her chest to encompass her entire body. Instead of smashing her skull open, the ogre's club rebounded as if it had been aimed at granite rather than the fine bones of nobility.

Though the moment in time was brief, for a small eternity Syjahel lay stunned in wonder at her sudden deliverance. As much as the shock, it was the feeling of safety. She hadn't felt safe, completely safe, since being a child younger than Naylia. Once she had been able to curl up in bed, listening to the sound of the winter storms around her family's towers, and feel that there was nothing that could touch her, protected by the high walls and the family's knights. With time she had come to know that the ways of the assassin, violent rivalry and the coin of the realm - betrayal - were the lot of all Druchii, especially the highborn. Awareness of the political machinations of her compatriots had done nothing to soothe her finely honed sense of paranoia, and vigilant alertness took the place of feeling truly secure.

Now though, the simple wooden splinter she'd had taken from the wreck of her trusty old shield and made into an amulet had somehow come to be imbued with so much power that it was now her saviour once more. As much of a marvel as it was, though, she was a pragmatic Druchii. Too well-schooled by that same paranoia to sit around wondering at her survival, Syjahel leapt to her feet. There was an obscene mutation fouling the soil of her beloved Naggaroth, and she had not been spared Khaine's embrace to allow it to flourish.

The ogre still clutched a crude club, and as she shook her head to clear her still-confused vision she watched the resourceful Carathyle lever open the mighty paw that held him by the simple expedient of cutting through its thumb. An elegant and suitably bloody solution. To the side, Jacks was darting in and out of the fray, harrying the creature with short stabs and flickering daggers. She did not doubt the determination of either one of her companions, and a grim smile crossed her face. They were a group forged in the fire of combat, true sons and daughters of the North. Worn down to a trio, they still knew how to work as a team and just as instinctively, she knew her place in this dance. Positioned as she was behind the beast she took aim to hamstring it just as her fellow warrior shouted that same advice. Stepping in quickly behind the lumbering monstrosity, she put all of her strength into severing the cords of muscle behind its knee.

Syjahel will try to hamstring the ogre and then, if this brings it to its knees, try to sever the spine at the back of its neck since that will now be in reach. If not, she'll try to keep attacking its exposed back as long as she can, aiming to do anything to put those huge arms, and that little odd one, out of commission while her companions have it distracted.

OOC: There it is finally, once orange juice and the magic of Beecham's have brought me to my senses :D The Captain is indeed very pleased with her magical talisman. So am I :D It's the perfect choice for her as it helps with her fragility as a Druchii and also fits with the defensive character of the fighting she's had to adopt to compensate for this delicacy. Nice one Drainial :D

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