|
Post by Valcrist on Jun 1, 2014 13:50:53 GMT -6
Aegis never responded, maybe he was just all choked up about how cool Valcrist was being? Because Valcrist was being pretty darn cool, he timed that arrow at the perfect time and everything. He didn't even plan that, that was just him getting lucky. He looked over at the other archer standing with him, the man firing his arrow with both eyes open. "Wow, thanks Valcrist. I'm firing much better now. I must have been silly to only use one eye, this is objectively superior no matter what anyone might say." He would say, Valcrist was sure of it, but when he turned to look at the smith-
An axe cleaved itself right into his skull. Right in front of Valcrist's eyes. The guy he talked to not even five minutes before died right before his eyes as his body was sent reeling back from the force of the toss. Landing on his back with blood and... other things oozing from his wounded skull.
He laid there, dead, bleeding. Valcrist just stared with wide eyes. It wasn't the first time... the first time he saw someone die. Right in front of his eyes, he's ended many lives himself, seeing that flicker of life fade from their eyes but... Damnit. He knew this was dangerous, he knew people were going to die, that why he wanted people to enjoy their last days, it didn't make it any easier though. To see it happen right there, in front of him, someone he knew even if just barely. He had no idea where the axe came from, who threw it, it was a sea of men and any one of them could have been the perpetrator. He couldn't 'swear vengeance' or anything of the sort. Heh. He didn't even know the guy's name.
Valcrist closed his eyes tightly and looked away. Many more people were going to die here today, weren't they? War was ugly. It was an ugly thing. He couldn't look away though, he opened his eyes and looked at the battlefield. Aegis' men were running across the open plains. Bandits were fiddling with some... contraption in the distance and trying to hold them off. What was it? He couldn't tell at this distance but... Something went flying, clean through the air in a giant arc. Valcrist's eyes widened as he immediately knew what it was.
"Quick, get water!" He barked a command, even though he wasn't in charge or even close to being in charge really, he was just a random smith. He just couldn't stand there when they needed to get ready, of course they didn't have time to do a thing as the barrels smashed into the wall and began to set the wall ablaze. They needed to douse the flames quickly, or the rest of the fence will catch ablaze. "We need to put out the fires as quick as possible!" He shouted, and people ran. It was a bit weird, he never thought of himself as someone people listened to, but in a crisis like this people tended to listen to anyone who even seemed to know what they were doing. Valcrist dropped down from the roof and landed on his feet.
People were scrambling, getting buckets filled with water from a nearby barrel. Valcrist watched for a short second before pointing. "You, you, and you." He singled three people out, who looked surprised but came to him all the same. People needed to be singled out in a sitaution like this, if you just 'somebody' everybody assumes that somebody is someone else and do nothing. Only if no one does anything, nothing gets done. Funny how that works, huh? Valcrist knew this first hand, he was one of those people that did nothing usually. "You need to go to the North, you to the South, and you to the West. Tell them they're deploying siege weapons. Catapults that fire burning barrels of oil to set the walls ablaze. They're going to be headed to the north and south first, so we need to beat them." Valcrist gave orders.
"Tell Kenshin directly." He pointed to the man he told to head to the south. He'd say 'tell Aegis' but he was already here in the east, and didn't seem to be in a capacity to do much. The man nodded. "We need to prevent them from firing if it's at all possible, and if it isn't, we need to be prepared to deal with the effects immediately. Go, all of you, quickly." Valcrist wasn't really a leader, heavens know that's true, but right now he was the best these guys were gonna get.
Now they lacked a walkway, so to douse the flame they need to leave the city by the gate and tackle the flame from the outside. It made them vulnerable to ranged attacks and the infantry doubtless to kick into full swing now that the fence is ablaze. They only had a limited amount of time though, they had to move fast. "Everyone able bodied, come with me. We're putting out this flame. Archers, cover us the best you can. We're going to have to rely on the defenders to keep us covered. We need to make sure the flames don't spread, we have to move quickly."
They left the protective cover of the palisade as they filtered from the gate. Valcrist stowed his bow away and drew his wind blade, the weapon pulsing in his hand. Like it was agreeing with him, or approving what he was doing. It was odd, but not unusual. Weapons have a life of their own, that's something Valcrist always believed, his wind sword especially so. It wasn't the time to think about it, he just had to trust it. Valcrist always kicked into gear during a crisis, it was when things weren't awful that he was all wishy washy.
The sword in his had seemed to be coated in a coat of whipping winds as the blade's runes glowed a bright green. He held it in both hands, taking in a deep breath. He stood aways from the group pouring water unto the flame to put it out, concentrating. He could help, and really he probably should be, but he had another idea. He was protect them. Any arrows coming their way, axes, spears, knives, even light magic. He would do his best to battle away with the power of his blade. And if they prepared to fire the catapult again? Well, they'll regret that mistake.
|
|
Aaron Winsett
Sage
Seeker of Knowledge
Knowledge is a weapon. I intend to be formidably armed.
Posts: 419
Sacae Fame: 1
Lycia Fame: 2
Profession: Student of Magic
OoC Alias: Feldsky
|
Post by Aaron Winsett on Jun 1, 2014 19:06:15 GMT -6
Among the faces of the multitudes of defenders, one cloaked man looked on the violence going on with horror, fear, revulsion, and anger. Alot of anger right now. What in all the world could have led to this? There was a man once that could have done this. He died years before at the conclusion of the Bandit War. He was known as Hargus, and he had touched on all of the known world with his evil. The heroes of the last war had delivered them from that fiend, but now it seemed that even death wasn't final. Through some mystery of magic, Hargus had reclaimed his place in the world, and that was what had brought Aaron here. It wasn't wanting to be a hero, or really even a particular desire to save others from this trauma, as much as he would love to be able to. It was the magic that rumors said Hargus had used years before to call up the mighty heroes of the scouring. Why had no one stopped to consider that someone might use the same magic that had brought the worlds heroes back to conquer it again, this time, to bring its greatest villain back?
Whatever the answer, the noise of battle wasn't conducive to these thoughts, nor would he focus on them now. He just needed to survive so he could find this magic, and make certain that it never brought about disaster again. Amidst the clamor, he made his way to the front in time to see a ball of flame erupt over the top of the wall. The Palisades were burning. He wasn't an expert on battle tactics. Didn't claim to be, but he knew that if those walls came down then they'd lose one of their main advantages, and that might lead to the destruction of everything here. He could hear someone calling for water on the flames nearby, and the call was quickly taken up. Something nagged at him though.... The fire let out waves of choking black smoke as its destructive tongues reached for the skies. Black smoke, that was an oil fire!
"Not water! Don't use water!" As loud as he could shout, he called as he raced towards the blaze, but it was too late. He arrived just in time to see the first bucket of water thrown on the burning wall, and WHOOOOOOSH!
Aaron fell back and hit the ground at the intensity of the heat washing over him as a sudden gout of flame exploded out nearly twenty feet from the origin point. A searing heat wave suddenly upon him and then easing as he hit the ground. Others fell back near him, and he got up as quickly as he could. The fire was still building, and there were multiple points on fire. Thankfully, this one had a space cleared in front of it
Grabbing a bucket still filled with water from a singed defender, he threw it down on the ground in front of the torch of a wall, then dropped it to pull out a thick heavy tome he carried from his bag.
"Not water!" He was already reaching for the magic he knew, hoping that the elements of the plains would respond to him as well as the forces in Lycia did. A stream of unintelligible words began pouring out his mouth in rapid succession, as he simultaneously worked the framework for his spell out in his mind as well as verbally. Magic was like mathematics. It was simply a matter of knowing the pieces to the puzzle, and putting them together correctly. Mages could see and interact with these pieces. He'd practiced long and hard, and as a result, found that sometimes the pieces could even be restructured a little bit.
"Fimbulvetr!" He slammed his book closed, and gave ignition to the spell, and suddenly sharp spars of ice began exploding into being underneath the surface, pulverizing the ground nearby into a fine dust.
"Dirt! You have to use dirt to kill these fires!" And with that, he started another casting, whipping up a stormy blizzard of frozen air currents, and carrying the fresh dust into the whipping fire. The wind billowed it a bit, and there was now an icy pit about ten feet inside the palisade where there used to be earth, but the dirt storm began to cause the fire here to subside. At least it wasn't exploding any more. It would take time, and a alot of effort and concentration to kill these fires, but he could do it as long as he could manage to hold his concentration. Speaking of which, that was getting difficult with all the jostling of the battlefront going on around him.
|
|
|
Post by Oya on Jun 1, 2014 19:57:18 GMT -6
Oya stared as the fires began to spread on the wall. A evil grin crossed his face as he took sick enjoyment in the success of the attack. It had been a long time since that look was on his face. The last time he looked like that was before he meet Willow. A serge of euphoria rushed through him, and for a moment his eyes seemed as if they turned red. Oya felt it. He heart start racing and his blood boiling. They could do this. They could take down the city of heroes.
"Heavy Units surround the catapults", shouted Oya as he snapped back to reality. The fire attack was sure to wake the sheep from their slumber. He new they would come with all the might that they had and their goal would be to destroy the catapults, but Oya was not going to let this chance slip from his grasp. He had them right were he wanted them. The gates open and men and women from the city began to rush out in an attempt to protect the wall. Fools the whole lot of them. Oya knew they would come. That is why he shot the wall instead of aiming for their archers on top of the houses.
"Archers", shouted Oya and he motion his hand for them to move forward. The archers took three steps forward and then pulled back on their bows. At the wave of Oya's hand they began to rain down arrows on the area in front of the door leading to the wall. Men and women with buckets of water were arrowed down as a rain of iron and wood fell upon them. Oya stared with cold eyes as he witnessed to ordeal. He had no pity for them as the fate he gave them befell his own men no longer than a two hours before.
"Prepare the second volley", shouted Oya as the archers raised their arrows again. Oya however was not finished. The brigands had already began loading the catapult up for another shot, and they were almost threw. Oya noticed that they had jars of oil again and turned toward his right hand man and asked. "Where are the heavy shots", he asked.
"They are coming up form the ship", spoke the man as he pointed to a line of pirates moving with stones and small iron balls. It was clear to him that they would not reach them before the second lunching, but maybe the next.
"The catapults are ready little O", spoke one of the pirates. Oya gave the man a cross look, but let it slide. Little O, was a old nick name he had from his youth. Still however he tough it was a bit inappropriate for him to use it at this moment as Oya was in command. He would have to have a talk with him after all of this was over.
"Change the aim to the houses with their archers on top of them", spoke oya as he stared at the skirmish with the light infantry and the defenders. "Their archers are giving our boy's some problem."
"Understood", spoke the pirates as they adjusted the catapult. Once the perpetration were complete Oya gave the signal for them to light the jars. The jars were lit, but Oya first gave a command to his archers. "On my command fire on the enemy units gathering around the wall trying to put out the fires", spoke Oya. The archer commander gave a nod and the men shifted to prepare to fire upon the targets.
"Lose", shouted Oya as the catapults and archers lunched their missiles at the same time. Oya watched as death sailed toward the defenders.
|
|
|
Post by Willow on Jun 1, 2014 20:25:15 GMT -6
"Little 'O'?" Willow laughed, smiling cheekily at her husband. "That's a new one. Maybe I'll call you Little O from now on, huh, darling?"
Joking aside, Willow was fairly pleased, considering their losses compared to the defender's losses. Plus, now that the walls were on fire, the defender's best (and only) wall was gonna come tumbling down. Willow did feel badly about not being able to heal those killed on the very front lines, but she couldn't stray from Oya's side. They were safe back here for now, and their skirmishers were doing well. They... Wait.
"Elimine damn them, Oya!" Willow cursed, seeing some fires being extinguished by... Something. She couldn't make it out from this distance. "Someone's got a way to put the fires out. We need to stop them, or start fires more quickly than they can extinguish them. Otherwise, they'll stalemate us. We have the advantage as long as our skirmishers last... We need reinforcements."
Turning, Willow's military years shone through as she began barking orders to some pirates and bandits standing around. "I want six groups of ten men apiece. Mixed weapons! Your job is to get in there and find out what's putting out those fires. Then, you KILL the one responsible, and bring me their head. Go NOW!" Flagging one group down, Willow gave extra orders. "Your group is not to engage. Simply find out who's stopping the fires, and how. Then get back here on the double."
Willow pointed forwards and sent the men charging towards the wall. Hopefully, they'd get the necessary information, and provide additional pressure... Buying the siege weapons more time. Precious time. If they could breach the walls, and get fire spreading, they'd have a steep advantage. Regardless of speculation... They were in a good position right now. The defenders were scrambling. Panic no doubt had been sown by the oil barrels, as well as the fires.
"Oya. We have the upper hand right now... But I don't know how much longer it will last. We need to keep applying heavy fire at those defenders, and breach the wall. It's imperative that we do so. Destroying their defensive fortification opens a channel through which we can funnel men, and a deadly killzone for my magic. We must keep the offensive alive, m'dear. Stay vigorous!"
|
|
|
Post by Valcrist on Jun 5, 2014 18:47:22 GMT -6
Don't use water? The words stuck in the back of his mind, but he was a bit confused. He wasn't particularly well versed in the specifics of it, but his entire life that's how fires were always battled. Put them out with water, they had water on the standby for just this reason. Valcrist had been wrong before, naturally, but never had he been so fundamentally wrong for his entire life. Since, it appeared, that water didn't put out these fires. No. It caused them to explode. Lovely. He wasn't sure what kind of sorcery this was, or the sorcery that followed with ice and dirt and wind and it was simply over his head. This is why he shouldn't be in charge, but when no one else would step up it was up to the meek to lead themselves. He didn't let it stop him though, it was important that no one else makes the same mistake he did, as they surely would, not one soldier objected to what he said. The only who did was the mage, which meant that the reasoning for the flame's immunity to flame was not something the average man would know. So, doubtlessly, the other sections would try the same exact thing he did. The water was at hand, and was deployed for just this reason, it was just too easy of a mistake to make.
"Listen to the mage. No water!" Valcrist barked. Despite his mistake, it seemed the desire to have someone tell them what to do overweighed what respect he would have lost for the mistake. Something both fortunate and unfortunate, it was truly a sour day when Valcrist, of all people, was the one trying to organize and lead things. He was many things, a merchant, a fighter, a blacksmith, an artist, but a leader was not among them. "Use dirt to smother the flame!" He added, looking in the distance, it appeared that they were gearing up for an attack. All at once. Archers especially, they were likely going to target the ones trying to put out the flame, Valcrist knew that. It's why he was readying his blade, it couldn't save everyone but it could make a difference. Protecting the mage as he put out the flames was top priority.
They needed to destroy the urns before they smashed into the wall, but Valcrist doubted that the strength of his blade was enough. Wind was powerful, it could destroy, it could cut as well as any blade, but it wasn't a heavy weapon. It didn't have the blunt force of flame, or the bursting potential of thunder, it didn't smash like a mace it sliced like a blade. He needed a... A mage. He doubted he'd find another as powerful as the other man, but he didn't need raw power. Just enough.
"You!" Valcrist called to a defender, a bit aways but not so far as to be unable to hear the merchant's voice. He was wearing a robe, and held a yellow book in his hands. He wasn't a powerful mage, but hopefully he was strong enough for what Valcrist needed him for. The mage turned around, looking confused at the Nabatan, but as he opened his mouth to speak Valcrist cut him off.
"I don't have time to explain. During the next volley, I need you to aim at the jars, can you do that? Get as many as you can!" The didn't have time to respond as the sound of the mechanical workings of the catapult lunged the pot into the air. Coupled with what appeared to be countless arrows. Alright, Valcrist hoped that the mage understood what he told him. If not, then...
He took a deep breath, gripping the blade in his hands tightly. It was as if everything moved in slow motion, the arrows slowly gliding in the air, the winds of his blade whipping amongst themselves violently, there was several fat targets amidst what looked like a storm of steel. He didn't have much he could do, after all, he was just some swordsman in a role he clearly wasn't meant to be in. He had to try though.
He swung his blade quickly, his arms powering the weapon through the air at blazing speed, wasting no time he swung it again and again. Violent whirlwinds erupted like a small tornado centered on him as they soared through the air, blade of wind itself. The winds sliced the arrows, the wind blew them away, but not them all. There was too many, he was too slow. Broken shafts littered the ground far before where they were supposed to strike, but some of the arrows still found their home in the bodies of the ones trying to douse the flame. Throughout the strike he saw a few bolts of lightning strike from the heavens. Three. Two met their mark, but one missed. It wasn't just the one mage Valcrist flagged down, but another as well who seemed to have had the same idea. There was a third that tried, but he was too late and by the time he struck the jars were long gone. The bolts shattered the clay, which absorbed the majority of the force, and left most of the oil unlit. Some of the still burning oil littered the plains, but it was too dispersed to do any real damage.
The other jars, however... Crashed. Not into the walls as he had thought but... into the archers. Where Valcrist had been merely moments ago. They burst into flames. The smith cringed. He had managed to mitigate damages, but it wasn't enough. It could never be enough. Only two out of the five jars, and only about two thirds of the arrows. The losses were still significant, and things were beginning to look... hopeless.
"We need to warn the other sections." They were looking hopeless, but Valcrist wasn't ready to give up. "Tell them about the trick flames, and we need to prepare mages to try and stop the jars before they get the chance to hit." Of course, it wasn't like they were drowning in magic types, honestly the only reason Val managed to get a hold of one was because the defender squad assembled by Aegis was specifically designed to be as diverse as possible. Still they only had a few mages regardless, they were uncommon. Perhaps the other sections had a better distribution. They still needed to put out these fires, and it appeared that a mass of men were coming directly towards them. They weren't giving the heroes a second to breath.
"We have company!" Valcrist turned to the men digging up dirt to try and put out the flames. "Half of you, draw your weapons." About ten man drew their blades, spears, and axes. He pointed to one in particular, a somewhat young looking man. Younger then Val even, a teenager at best. He looked scared out his mind, holding his spear so tightly it was shaking in his hands. He was probably a youth from this town, trying to protect it. "You, return inside and get reinforcements, and make sure to tell everyone about the fires and how water will not work. Quickly!" The man gave a nervous nod and headed away, looking relieved that he didn't have to fight himself. These weren't soldiers, they were just men and women. Scared, human, fragile. Valcrist wasn't a soldier, and he damn sure wasn't a commander. He just hoped he wasn't messing up too badly.
He turned back at the group of bandits coming down upon them, gripping his blade tightly in both hands.
|
|
Aaron Winsett
Sage
Seeker of Knowledge
Knowledge is a weapon. I intend to be formidably armed.
Posts: 419
Sacae Fame: 1
Lycia Fame: 2
Profession: Student of Magic
OoC Alias: Feldsky
|
Post by Aaron Winsett on Jun 5, 2014 21:12:41 GMT -6
The roar of battle continued, temporarily giving way to cracks of thunder in the distance and sounds of explosions. The green haired magic wielder himself was still focusing on the fires, having shifted his dust storm to the next nearby burn after finishing with the first. The battle was not going well, and he managed to look up just in time to see blades of wind slicing arrows out of the air on their way down. Part of him just wanted to stop and wait for death to take him, but his mouth still worked on, wording the complex phrasing that something of this calibur required.
There were more than arrows sailing overhead as he watched. More jars of oil sailed high over the walls, and came crashing down near the places where the archers were stationed, one landing close enough that he was caught as a little of the burning liquid splattered on his cloak.
"Ahh-!" His spell cut off in the middle of the cast as he turned away from the burning splatter, his cloak fanning out behind him as he spun away. Reaching up, he reached for the clasp around his throat and let it go, slinging the burning cloth to the ground and leaving it there. The cloak could burn and he would get a new one. These fires were going to be the end of them though. He held his hands out, and the Fimbulvetr tome seemed to flip to to a page of its own accord. At least the people weren't dumping more water on the flames anymore. They could deal with the fire themselves, but not as quickly as he could. He could do alot to inconvenience the flood of enemies making their way here though, if he could only get the time. It became a choice of where he should devote himself to be the most useful.
"Clear the area around the fire!... This one's a return to sender." The last bit was more under his breath than for anyone's benefit. Truth be told, he didn't know how far fetched his plan was. He had a general vicinity that the launch had come from, and he knew he could at least get his idea started. How successful it would be would depend on fate's winds.
The book in his hands flared blue and the area around the mage seemed to grow cold as he began channeling the subzero vortex again. Icy winds leapt into being over top of the ruined building, before the Sage altered the cadence of his spell crafting. For a few moments, nothing happened, and he was disappointed as the fiery oil continued it burn in the building unhindered, but then the fire rose. Up into the air, the burning oil began to be carried into the sky by the mage's vortex, leaving some underneath, but peeling the flames off as he sustained his efforts. Turning himself with purpose now, Aaron set the vortex on a new path, carrying fire and ice slowly out over top of the walls, and heading out over the bandits pushing against the defenders. He cut off his control, and settled back to catch his breath as he watched for it to destabilize before falling apart in the air.
He headed back towards the front gate now, leaving the others to fend off the fires, and caught sight of a blond haired man who seemed to be giving orders. He didn't bear any insignia of rank, but then how many of them did here? And besides, this was exactly what they needed, and what seemed to be lacking for them here on the Eastern Wall. They needed a leader.
"Hey! We have to make a push for those catapults! They can lob those things at us all day from back there!" Smoothly, he tucked the frozen tome he carried back into his bag, and pulled out another much plainer book. Looking closely would reveal a four pointed star emblazoned on the front of the book. As he began to speak, light seemed to flash from the book, and the sage's words carried to all those near him, infusing his words with depth and conviction as well as demonstrating to them what he was fighting for.
"At your backs is your way of life! At your front is the one who wants to take that from you, along with everything you hold dear. Stand fast, City of Heroes! You are not alone!" A light seemed to be shining in the sage's eyes, and radiating off of him, and suddenly there was a connection he could feel with those fighting near him. Not a true connection, but perhaps a cofirmation that they could understand what he was fighting for. Those who would not waver were bolstered in themselves, and the fearful were given something to hold onto. Aaron himself had to fight to keep himself from dropping into study of the effects the Light tome could have. It was relatively short range, but the reading had been a fascinating puzzle to try and solve. Now his practices were paying themselves off.
He wanted to march right out the gate. He could tell others wanted to go as well, but he knew he wouldn't be able to go the whole way by himself. He needed the defenders to form a buffer for him so he could do his work. He need them to cut their way into the heart of the beast so they could rip it out. He wouldn't last if he tried before the right time.
|
|
Dietrich Landrik
Mercenary
GAZE AT MEIN ROLLED SLEEVES, NOOBKOPF
Posts: 81
Sacae Fame: -1
Western Isles Fame: 1
Profession: Mercenary Marine
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Profile - Journal
OoC Alias: Synkkis
|
Post by Dietrich Landrik on Jun 6, 2014 0:33:18 GMT -6
Sighing, Landrik held his shield as usual, however it seemed their line fell just out of archery range. They did their reconnaissance, now it was time to pummel the spot. "Well, our ship was a bit damaged so it was tough keepin' her afloat, but..." Landrik trailed off, noticing Oya wasn't paying too much attention. He didn't even give him orders. Noticing the importance of their siege weapons, the sight of men stacking up and filling gabions and a small ditch in front was perfect. The sailor preferred using a shovel instead of a sword. They needed to build the makeshift defenses for the weapons in case they sallied forth and tried to destroy them. From the looks of it, they had the manpower for it.
As the catapults started raining hell on the palisades, Landrik was able to aquire two shovels, leaving an odd man out. "Eh... Berg, be our eyes. We can rotate if need be. Let's get diggin'. Someone's gotta do it." he ordered with a smirk. As the first few Gabions were set into place, Berg stood behind the first one being filled and hummed a tune a bit to keep us working... as if the arrows falling just under 100 meters away weren't enough motivation.
|
|
|
Post by Oya on Jun 6, 2014 7:03:40 GMT -6
"Elimine damn them, Oya!", shouted Willow. Her outburst caught Oya a bit off guard. He had never seen Military Willow, he had only seen her when she was traveling, or simply being a religious agent. Oya had no idea she has such a fiery side to her, and to be truthful he kin of liked it.
"Damn I love you woman", spoke Oya to Willow. The pirate face flushed red as he turned and placed his focus back onto the battlefield. It seemed that the enemy had taken down two of his five catapult shots. The resulting lightning attacks sent burning oil lying on the field, but other than that their defense was successful, well if you did not count the three shots that hit their marks. A twisted expression crossed Oya's face as he saw the fires burn the tops of the buildings. Defenders began to flee in droves as burning men fell to the ground screaming in pain. "Now they won't be able to hamper our troop movements", spoke Oya.
Oya turned toward his right and waved his hand. "Send in the Ladder troops and battering Rams", shouted Oya as the pirates began to push forward. The light infantry that he almost arrived at the gate. They were bussy now scrimishing with the few defense forces that were outside the gate. The forces that Willow had sent were halfway their. From Oya's point of view the battle should be over soon, but their was still something that was bothering him. Somehow the enemy had managed to put out several of his oil fires and on one instant they even created a twister. They were battling back. Oya could not let that happen. The advantage of theirs at the moment and losing their advantage could mean them losing the war.
"Sir the heavy shots have arrived", spoke one of the pirates to Oya.
"Good", spoke the pirate. "Load two of the last five catapults with heavy shots and adjust them so we can hit the wall. I want the last three loaded with oil. Change their target towards the gate.", spoke oya as he pointed toward the iron door. "We are going to put a fire storm in their way to prevent their people from attacking us", spoke Oya. "We will trap them inside of their city and burn their defenses to the ground."
"Yes sir", spoke the catapult workers as they began to move to make the adjustment that Oya spoke of.
"Archers", shouted Oya as he stared at the battlefield. He remembered were he saw the wind coming from. I want you all to aim your and shoot them toward that direction", spoke Oya as he pointed toward the location he had in mind. "However I only want you all to lose after the catapults.
"Understood sir", spoke the Archers.
"Good", spoke Oya as he looked forward and saw Dietrick and friends. What in the world were they doing though Oya as he noticed them digging. They were beginning to set up a defensive position. "Smart move boy", shouted Oya as he looked over to where the were. Those three were good soldiers. If they won he had to remember to mention them to his mother. "Hey you loot go help them", spoke Oya to a few of his heavy troops. Oya removed ten men from his defensive line and sent them to find shovels and aid Dietrick in the trench building. It could come in handy if his plans did not work. You never really know how fate is going to act.
"Oya the siege is ready", spoke one of the pirates.
"Good", spoke Oya. "Now fire", shouted the Pirate as they shot forward toward their targets. The heavy shots flew off a bit slower than the jars. The Jars lead the way aiming to hit the area in front of the gate. The heavy shots aimed for the walls. Once the five projectiles were in the air the archers let loss their pay load. Oya was hoping to eliminate the enemy with this archery attack, but he could not be sure who it was. Even if he did not hit the person, the archery attack in his direction would surly send a cold chilld down his back.
|
|
|
Post by Willow on Jun 8, 2014 16:30:42 GMT -6
"Let's go, let's go! Get those catapults reloaded on the double! Everyone be on guard, ready to advance when Oya gives the word!" Suddenly, she saw bolts of lightning descend from the sky, obliterating two of their oil jars and creating blazes on the field. Even worse... Somehow, they flung some flames back at the raiders, slowing down a good third of her scouts as they ducked and beat at the wisps of burning oil. "Dammit, they've got somebody who knows what they're doing, that's for sure. Oya, let's smash those walls quickly!" Hearing her husband's remark, she rode over quickly and gave him a kiss, ruffling his hair before backing away again, smiling. "And I love you, Oya. We're a perfect match. Now let's kill these defenders, and then we'll sleep in the beds of the Heroes, and eat their food! We'll all be champions, men!" Willow raised her arm, letting the glow of her magic shine like a beacon. "We're Nya's forces! We're going to smash these walls to dust! We'll charge through those gates, and the riches of the city will be ours! We're going to be victorious! Now who's ready to fight?!" A resounding chorus of "WE ARE!" rang out, and Willow flushed with frenetic energy. "YES WE WILL!"
Willow viewed the field with a calculating stare, watching her detachment nearing the defenders. There, they were finally engaging the defenders, assisting the skirmishers. The tide of the battle was definitely in their favor. Now, she wanted to find out what the defenders were doing to put out the fires, because they definitely were putting the fires out faster than she liked. The flames were spreading, no doubt, but slower than she'd anticipated. They needed to stop the defenders. Hopefully, her men would do the job, and do it well. Their catapult defenses were coming along, as Landrique, Brrrg, and Foosh... or whatever their names were... were tending to them. The battle was going favorably. This was good.
Near the defenders, the men of Willow's detachment began engaging the foes, noticing with alarm that the defenders had a feasible system of putting out the fires. It appeared to be dirt. The ten men Willow had ordered to return did so promptly, sharply turning 180 degrees and beginning their trek back to their own lines, armed with some information. They'd seen men using dirt to douse the fires, and a swordsman who seemed to have cut down a large number of arrows, but... How? They suspected some sort of magic. Either way, they just had to get back safely, and then they could relay their knowledge. Hopefully, then, that crazy cleric would let them stay with the reserves... It was too active out here.
|
|
|
Post by Valcrist on Jun 12, 2014 20:09:31 GMT -6
"Thank the stars, someone else is here." Valcrist took a deep breath. He tried his best, but it wasn't his thing. He didn't have the mind for this sort of thing, he lacked the experience to understand what to do, to simply be shoved in this position and assuming he'd do well was too much to expect, he just hoped he hadn't made any huge mistakes. Exploding fires aside naturally. Maybe if it wasn't war, something less... dire. Like a store, or a caravan. Something... unviolent. This mage seemed to have a better understanding then he did, which made sense since he was a mage and obviously mages were all tacticiany and such. At the least every mage he's met has been, well except for maybe Izzy. Then again he only went shopping with her once, that doesn't really display the full breadth of one's abilities. Maybe their fashion sense.
The mage used what looked like some... shiny magic type thing. He spoke with big words that seemed to inspire the men, which was good. He wanted to make a push to the catapults, something that... Well it didn't scare him, but it made him apprehensive. It felt like a daunting task, the bandits seemed to have an advantage and all it took is one botched operation to spell their failure. He wasn't worried for his own life, though he very well should be, but rather worried how this might end up. Which, probably, was another sign he wasn't cut out to lead. The truth of it all wasn't that he liked being led around, or that he hated being in charge, honestly the problem stems from the simple fact he prefers to work alone. Or with a small group at most, an army? There was at least 400 men here, that was simply too much for his poor mind to handle. It was so much easier to understand what you need to do, if Valcrist had a goal he himself could achieve things were so much easier, maybe it made him untrusting but he didn't think that was the case, it was simply that his mind understood things on a much smaller scale then this.
Still that didn't mean he couldn't help. This wasn't really the time for introductions, so he decided to be quick. "I'm Valcrist." He told the mage. In his left hand was a white and green longsword, covered in runes that almost seemed to glow even in all this chaos. If anything they were glowing brighter then ever before. "Everyone, listen to this man!" Valcrist said loudly. Hopefully relinquishing whatever possessed these mens to even listen to him in the first place to the sage. "I can deflected some of the incoming arrows with my blade." He said quite simply, holding the sword he was referring to up slightly. "I'll try my best to keep them off of you." That was the second time he said that today.
|
|
Aaron Winsett
Sage
Seeker of Knowledge
Knowledge is a weapon. I intend to be formidably armed.
Posts: 419
Sacae Fame: 1
Lycia Fame: 2
Profession: Student of Magic
OoC Alias: Feldsky
|
Post by Aaron Winsett on Jun 13, 2014 15:23:17 GMT -6
"Valcrist! I'm Aaron and... Hey? What?! I--" Aaron was promptly surprised when the blond haired man he'd spoken to handed over command of whoever was following him around to the green haired sage. He wasn't quite expecting that. Now that he apparently had a group following him, he wasn't really sure what to do with it though.
The light surrounding Aaron seemed to sputter out and die as a sight he saw coming caused him to swallow. More catapult fire launching towards them, followed by a darkening of the skies. Arrows falling again, and in much larger numbers than before.
"Start with that!" Aaron growled, slipping his hand into his bag again, and reaching for his magic. This wasn't like before. Before, even when in battle, he was using magic to attack, disarm, and in some instances kill. This was magic for survival. Magic or die! He wouldn't be able to keep this up for long though. Magic was like a muscle, and while he had built up quite a bit of strength, he was going through his spell power much quicker than he usually did. His grasp on his skills was feeling more strained than usual. Using such high powered spells was mentally taxing and physically draining, as he had to account for all the little details of how he shaped the magic, and then trigger it. It was this or be filled with a quiver-worth of someone's arrows though. Or be overrun by the violents that had come here. He couldn't stop. He still had to find the magic that Hargus used to bring the heroes back years before!
Sounds of lightning bolts splitting the air fell as more mages struck the jars of burning oil. Once again, a couple shattered, but three still managed to make it through. Sounds of roaring flame erupted from behind Aaron, near the city gates he had just passed through were. Behind him, he could see the burning tar covering the ground just by the walls. The defenders gathered there were having a problem now, but soon enough those with the right tools began descending on the new hazard, choking it to death with smothering dirt. What was more alarming to the mage was the sound of splintering wood that he could hear also joining into the battle. With only a moment's time to look he spotted a chunk that had been ripped from the wall some way down the battlefront. Defenders nearby were alreading catching on that their precious walls were being threatened with yet another weapon, and swarming around it on the outside of the wall to keep the enemy back. Hopefully, someone on the inside would figure out what was going on and try to shore it up with more defenses before an actual gap could be made.
That was all the time that the mage could spare for looking. Aaron let loose with a string of words brought to mind almost as though from without him, shaping a vortex of whirling ice winds out from his hand and ripping as many arrows falling around him out of the air as he could manage. One arrow hit his bag, and probably managed to scrape through the cover of one of his tomes. Another skipped off the flame embossed pauldron he wore on his shoulder. All around, he could see the defenders taking cover or raising their shields to let the arrows skip harmlessly off. Unfortunately, for many there simply wasn't cover available. Aaron was about let himself feel a little relief when he felt a shaft shoot its way into his shoulder. This wasn't from the volley though. It had been a straight shot from the nearby enemy lines. His spell cut off abrubtly and the green haired man went down to a knee, catching himself on a suddenlt screaming arm to keep from landing on his face. He stayed down for a moment, assessing the damage. Through the chest. Out the back. I can still breath, so I can act like it missed the vital organs.... He felt himself dropping into almost a trance-like state. He used to practice magic in this state. Now it was merely his body trying to numb the pain.
HURTS LIKE HELL!
Aaron dropped all attempts at making precise and well crafted spells at this point. Onlookers would see a man covered in dirt and filth and blood rise swiftly back to a standing position, fix his eyes on a point in the distance where he could see the catapults position blocked by waves of light infantry and skirmishers, and reach out a hand. Still with the arrow embedded in his chest, he began speaking, and calling on a spell that felt as natural to him as swinging a sword did to a swordsman.
Much like the catapults launching their fire jars through the air, the mage now set himself fully to shattering his part of the bandit offensive. A fire ball arced out over the lines of the defenders and fell amidst the still advancing bandits who were scurrying to get out of the way. Large plumes of flame licked and scorched as it reached for Hargus' forces flesh. Two more fire bolts followed to the left and the right of the original placement, further disrupting the advance with angry fires.
"Don't fall! Close up the gaps and push the enemy out!" The arrow in his chest hurt, but right now he couldn't give it much thought. Thought could get you killed out here. Thought wasn't for uncivilized battlefields like this. Aaron coughed, feeling the arrow send another wave of pain through his chest.
"Valcrist! Archers please."
|
|
Dietrich Landrik
Mercenary
GAZE AT MEIN ROLLED SLEEVES, NOOBKOPF
Posts: 81
Sacae Fame: -1
Western Isles Fame: 1
Profession: Mercenary Marine
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Profile - Journal
OoC Alias: Synkkis
|
Post by Dietrich Landrik on Jun 13, 2014 20:59:53 GMT -6
The suppression from the catapults was seeming to do its job, but Landrik could see some of their own troops moving into the strike zone. A risky move. They must've had plenty of faith in the aim of the supporting troops. Well, back to work. By this time the swordsman was knee-deep in the forward ditch and the defenses were starting to take shape. Digging his spade in the ground once again, he continued to fill the gabeons with more dirt. A couple of troops marched over, dropped their weapons and armor, and grabbed a few spades and came to him. "Aight, where we diggin'?" one of them asked with the shovel resting on his shoulder. "Ah, right here. We're makin' a ditch right in front of the barricades in a zig-zag pattern, so if they blast a section of the barricade then we can still cover it pretty well." A few of those he explained it to raised their eyebrows, seeing the importance of it. Those who didn't, were already sinking their shovels in the ground wanting it to get over with.
Fuchs, probably the thinnest of the three was acting a bit of a perfectionist, coming in after men were considered finished and straightened up edges and made the ditch even at the bottom. Berg, noticing from out of the corner of his eye grunted and then chuckled. "You know, Fuchs, you don't have to be a swabbie and clean corners like that." he said loud enough for Landrik to hear. Fuchs retorted right away, "Well, you don't have to be a massive knob-polisher yet here you are. Here, you try and suppress your inner clean-freak." he spoke flatly, handing him the shovel. Berg raised an eyebrow and grabbed it from his hands. "Alright, alright... I'll show everyone else that I'm not a manlet and will actually contribute to the defenses." he said with a bit of bravado. "Implying you could, fatty." he joked, putting on his armor and grabbing hold of his halberd.
With the addition of the extra shovels the defenses were coming along nicely. They actually had shape and form now and with a little bit more time could actually be quite daunting and difficult to break through defenses. Being so close to the huge catapults was also pretty damn cool. Landrik had been close to warships before and seen their stuff like ballistae and pretty small catapults or slingshots, but nothing like this. Siege weaponry indeed, the impacts they were making far away were pretty monstrous. He wondered just how much those defenders were soaking their trousers right now.
|
|
|
Post by Oya on Jun 15, 2014 12:27:52 GMT -6
"Curses", shouted Oya as he watched as another one of his arrow assaults failed. Sure they got a few of them, but it did not have the effect that Oya desired. Once he brought out the siege weapons he was sure the enemy was going to crumble up and fall. Instead they were fighting back and looked as if they were ready to try and lunch a counter offensive. He had no idea were they got this level of magical power, but it seemed to continue to off set his plans. If Oya was going to win this fight he was going to need to use his weapons more efficiently. He needed to neutralize their magic and create a killing field. His soldiers were doing well enough in the field thanks to his second assault. The burning death made archers way of staying on top of the buildings.
As Oya plotted his next attack he noticed fires burning through some of his advancing troops. The fire were obviously not natural and as a result could only lead to one thing."Another of their filthy mages", shouted Oya. The pirate had enough with their magic. Every time he made a move to destroy the wall and cripple the enemy forces another mage would show up with some miracle magic and thwart his efforts. Part of Oya wished he was down there with his men. If he was fighting along side them he could eliminate the problem and simply press onward too the city, but that was not an option at the moment. Oya was a leader and he was needed in the back to direct the catapults and organize the soldiers.
"Archer Master", spoke Oya as he walked up to the lead archer. The man looked at him puzzled for a moment as Oya began to give him instructions. "I want you all to lower your arc on your shots. I know", spoke Oya before the man could speak. "I know they won't reach as long as before, but we still should be able to reach the forces combating the light infantry."
"You want to fire the arrows at our own men", asked the archer in confusion.
"No", spoke Oya as he looked at the commander. "I want you all to fire your arrows above their head. I want to hit the enemy with a wave of arrows and give our light infantry a better chance.
"Understood", spoke the man as he watched Oya walk back toward the catapults.
"We are ready to fire again sir", spoke the catapult units.
"Good", spoke Oya as he pointed toward the oil catapult. "I want you to fire the oil in that spot", spoke Oya as he pointed toward the location were the enemy fire magic came from earlier. "Wait," spoke Oya as he suddenly came to a realization. "I want you to fire a oil barrel and a heavy shot."
"A heavy shot", spoke the catapulter with a bit of confusion. Heavy shots were normally used only for breaking down walls and fortification. You really did not use them against troops as much.
"Yes the heavy shots", spoke Oya. "Hopefully when we fire the ball will roll, but I highly doubt it. I just want to give who ever that is burning my men a wake up call. Well that is if the fires from the oil do not kill him first."
"Understood", spoke the catapulter as they changed the direction of two of the catapults. The others were ordered to fire once more at the weaken wall. Oya was hoping to a hole clean through this time. On Oya's word the archers and the catapults fired again. The archers however shot at a far lower angle than before. A few of the arrows did not have enough power and fell to short and hit some of their own guys in the back. The others however caught many of the defenders off guard as they sailed just above the heads of the assaulting pirates and landed in the chest of the the men trying to fight off the attackers.
With a slight annoyed look Oya stared at the battlefield. This fight should have been over in his eyes, but it seemed that the enemy would not give in. The more they resisted the more oya had to destroy. Their loot lied within the walls of the City of Heroes. The harder the enemy fought the more ruthless Oya would have to get.
|
|
|
Post by Valcrist on Jun 22, 2014 19:06:58 GMT -6
Valcrist was almost at a lost over what was happening about him, it was chaotic. Things seemed to shift every few seconds, what he thought he knew a moment before wounds up to be different. It was like things were moving not only too fast, but too slow as well, it made it difficult to process. He tried, but he simply didn't have a mind for this sort of thing. Aaron used his icy windy magic to protect himself from the hail of arrows like Valcrist used his sword to protect his self. It didn't prevent him being pierced by an arrow however, still Valcrist remained unharmed. A few arrows flew in his direction, but he managed to either dodge or deflect them before they managed to hit. Of course one could say he was simply lucky in that regard, if they focused their fire on the smith, he doubted his ability to dance around all of them.
Valcrist drew in a heavy breath as the world seemed to fall into destruction and chaos around him, slowly trying to process everything. Alright, take stock of what was happening. There was fires being put out with dirt, since water makes them explode. The bandits were targeting the homes inside the walls to lower the places where the archers could fire from, meanwhile the defenders had magi using their magic to destroy some of the oil jars before they reach their destinations. Aaron was a Sage with extensive magical talent who used ice based magic, as well as fire and some light. Valcrist deferred command to him, since he clearly had a better idea of what was happening then the smith did. Archers continued to fire down upon them, and Valcrist was using his windsword to deflect their arrows. Aaron did the same with his ice magic, but he missed one that found its way into the mage's chest. Painful without a doubt, with all the dirt and filth covering him they'd need to take care of that once things calm down right away. It seemed the bandits were changing some of their tactics, while Aaron used flames to roast and build a wall between them and the bandits.
Valcrist needed to do his part, he wasn't a mage, but his sword... Aaron told the smith to take care of the archers, that was all he could do, wasn't it? Not that he was complaining, it was undoubtedly saving many lives but it just felt like he could do... more. He stood at the head of the group, not fighting himself but preparing for something. He held the blade back slowly breathing in and out. Waiting for the perfect moment to move, to strike, to swing. He couldn't see the archers behind the bandits, the sounds of chaos made it almost impossible to pick out the telltale twanging of bows as they fired. Screams, shouts, yells and yelps filled the air, the sound of flames burning away at wood, the battlecry of men fighting men. The Nabatan swordsman begin to through his weight behind his blade, moving as it sliced through the air, it responded in kind. Violent winds whirled and rushed and billowed and blew from the verdant blade, it scythed through the air, slicing at the arrows as they came sailing above the heads of their own men, barely skirting the tops of their heads. The bandits were getting bold, or was it desperate? It was hard to tell the two apart at times.
Some of the bandits fell from their own arrows, while others managed to find their way into the bodies of some of the defending men, but a fair chunk of these arrows were sliced in two or blown so far off course that they hopelessly plummeted into the ground and more then a few into the bandits they were barely soaring over. While he was by no means able to cover the majority of the field, the area around and behind him was generally safe once more. Valcrist wasn't done though, he used the momentum of his first strike to keep moving, dragging the blade around and bringing it close the the earth where he brought it up with a mighty heave. Another violent gust of wind erupted from it, this one running along the ground and colliding with the flames created by his magi friend. The winds mixed with the flames and the winds themselves caught aflame as a vortex of flaming wind blasted out and towards the advancing bandits. This wasn't the first time he's done this, before he did it with Wyatt's magma axe, a combination of wind and flame erupting in a combination of fierce fires and harsh gales.
|
|
Aaron Winsett
Sage
Seeker of Knowledge
Knowledge is a weapon. I intend to be formidably armed.
Posts: 419
Sacae Fame: 1
Lycia Fame: 2
Profession: Student of Magic
OoC Alias: Feldsky
|
Post by Aaron Winsett on Jun 22, 2014 20:33:33 GMT -6
The green haired sage growled in pain as another wave of pain shot through him. He could feel fatigue from the arrow in his chest beginning to set in. The human body wasn't made for this kind of abuse. Much less while ripping magic out of the ether and depositing it all over the ones trying to kill him. He reached out to cast another flamebolt out towards the charging masses of bandits,... but just couldn't do it. The sage sank down to one knee breathing hard, and holding a hand to his chest. His heart felt like it was about to burst, it was pumping so hard. All around him, he could see the fight going on. The battlelines weren't truly established anymore near him, but the vague and blurred collection of battle that was almost a line was a little too close for comfort. He'd tried to reform the line, but hadn't been able to yet.
Valcrist, that swordsman with the wind blade had made good use of his weapon, carrying his own flames across the blast area, and shaping them into a swirling vortex. Fighters had scampered away from it faster than he'd seen anyone move in a long time. Threat of getting burned alive had helped separate the lines well enough.
Aaron stayed down on his knees as the rest of the world spun around him. He could feel it beginning to settle, but he needed to catch his breath.... To bad there wasn't a spell for that, he laughed to himself. He immediately regretted the laugh as another wave of pain hit him though. Somewhere in all the mess, he heard a familiar whistle of arrows overhead, followed by a soft pressure of air that swirled upwards and away. The Windsword was active again. Aaron lifted his eyes to the sky again, and saw his doom falling. It was one of those damnable oil jars, and it was going to fall right on him. Or next to him. Wouldn't matter in the slightest if he couldn't stop it though. He grimaced as he reached his arm up, trying to conjure a spell to break the jar before it could reach him. That was when he felt the hands grabbing him under the arms, and dragging him backwards. A blast of concentrated wind swept upwards past Aaron, and shattered the jar falling for him, but he was already gone. Almost faster than he could process, he slowed, then hit the ground with a thud and saw only the bright sky of the open plains.
"Hold still, spiritcaller. I will close your wounds." It was a quiet and calm voice carrying the accent of the plains. Aaron caught a glimpse of a man in the colorful patterns of the plainsmen before he screamed, the arrow in his chest suddenly being ripped free. There was only searing pain, followed by a short cool sensation that seemed to filter into all of the injuries he'd sustained so far. For a moment, he simply lay there, breathing hard and still feeling the echoes of the pain, but then he saw the man who'd been tending him get up, and move further down the line without another word and no such thing as a glance back.
Aaron quickly sat himself back up, and looked around. He'd been dragged back from the battle lines and was near the front gates again. Archers were still stationed nearby and were firing their lethal shots out into the crowds of invaders. More importantly, he no longer had a hole filled by an archer's shaft in him. That plainsman had fixed him up somehow. Something like a healing staff.
Aaron pushed himself back up again, and started towards the lines again, a new lease on life. He could see alot more sacaens had made it out onto the battlefield, their swift blades meeting the unarmored waves of bandit light infantry and cutting into them mercilessly. They looked like they were actually starting to make a little headway on one front of the battle. Aaron kept his eyes ahead this time though. He was too far out to do much in the way of frontline support, but he would be near enough soon.
|
|