Subject: Re: Ty and characters

If it is sucking up then it is not sincere. :)

Mark

Subject: An ambush that fails, an ambush that succeeds, and a general who takes the field

Rennik slaps away another biting insect and wipes the sweat off his neck. The noon sun is high overhead, and the day is turning into a scorcher. Rennik curses the thin shade of the scrub brush he hides beneath, and then crawls forward to look down into the enemy camp. Robert still lies in the middle of the bowl in his stolen gear. Rennik had questioned the discipline of these Falcon's when the fight was becoming chaotic, but watching the young guardsman lay exposed to the sun for over an hour without moving has changed his mind. They might not be overly bright, but these Falcon's were gritty.

There is a faint sound from his left, and he turns to see Melani looking at him from her hiding place. If she made a sound, she'd wanted to make a sound. She was trying to get his attention, and wondering why they were still here. Rennik wondered that himself. Was that dung eating witch never going to return? According to the timetable they were given, she should have been back an hour ago. He decides to take Melani scouting, on the off chance that the witch was planning a surprise of her own. There was no way to tell Garyth what they were doing, so he'd just have to count on him to stay still. Rennik finds himself a little surprised to realize he does in fact trust Garyth to do just that. If anyone blew this ambush, it wouldn't be that one.

Rennik jerks his thumb and makes a quiet wisk sound. Melani slides out of her hiding place like a ghost, and the two of them move off in the direction the witch had flown away. Garyth peeps out of his bush a few feet away with a question on his face, but to his credit does not speak. Rennik makes signs with his hands that he hopes will tell Garyth what they are doing. He points at himself and Melani, then moves his finger around like a winding path. Garyth nods, and lays back down under his bush.

Rennik and Melani slip away down the side of the hill. A few minutes of quiet scouting show that no one is sneaking up, but little else. Rennik finally feeling secure enough to make noise says, "I don't think anyone is around. Is it possible the witch was killed on her foray? Would she stay with the army without telling her men?" Melani just looks at him without speaking. "All right, we're wasting our time here. I'll go gather up the men. Wait up on the ridge and keep an eye out in case she comes back." Melani nods.

Back at the hill, Rennik tells Garyth what he found. Garyth spits and wipes some crusty dried blood off the side of his face. The drying orc blood stinks. "It's almost time for the second attack. There's no way we'll make it back for the charge, but if we leave now we might be back in time to help out. I think we should go back. The witch isn't coming." Rennik nods, "It was a good plan, but gilnalien ethu pel minumanen." He smiles at Garyth's puzzled look. "It's elven for 'no plan survives the drawing of swords.' I'll have Melani keep watch here on the hill until we leave."

Garyth moves to the ridge and calls down, "Osred, get the men up and ready to move out. The witch isn't coming back, and if we linger here much longer, we'll miss the battle. Corporal, go get the horses. The rest of you, police up the weapons and bodies, and put them in the wagon. We'll burn it. Take everything of value, including the alchemists potions and gear, and all the money. We leave as soon as the horses arrive, so move quickly men. If the witch still lives, she'll be with her army at the battle. We'll kill her there."

Osred jumps out of the wagon and begins directing the men. Vincy runs off in the direction of the mounts.

Half an hour later, the men are mounted and ready to move out. Osred has a lit torch in his hand. Garyth nods at him and says, "Burn it." The priest throws the torch into the back of the wagon, and it goes up like a candle. He has to ride quickly away to avoid being burned. There must be some residue of the concoctions the alchemist brewed left in the wagon, because moments later it is popping and exploding with weird bright colored flames. The group rides away quickly. All of the alchemists gear is distributed in the bags of the men, and Osred's saddle bag hangs heavily on one side, the sack of coin hidden there.

An hour later, the group tops a small rise, and in the distance the two armies are visible. Melani stands up on the saddle of her mount, and shades her eyes. "There have already been clashes. I can see bodies on the field. The humans have set their spearmen in ranks, and there are many undead piled before them. The formations hold. The undead mill about as if waiting for something. It is said that their power is weakened in the light of the sun. They appear confused." Pensive, who also has excellent vision, agrees, "I do not see the witch. But the little scout is right. The black army appears to be losing. The humans are in ranks that will make assaulting them difficult, while the horsemen protect their flanks."

Garyth smiles. Discipline, courage, and steel would win over the demon's undead things. He feels a sudden urgency to be with them. "Alright men, let's make haste to the army. It may be that Sir Jonah has further uses for us."

The group begins to move at a quick pace down the hill toward the battle. While they ride, there is another clash. A group of the undead things attacks the Nesalin ranks, while Murrkat archers fire over their heads. But again, the pikemen of Nesalin are able to push the attack back, suffering few losses. Osred says to Garyth, "What are they doing? They commit too few of their creatures to the attack. It's like they want to lose." While this is happening, Melani says loudly, "Look, the nameless ones are torturing someone." Garyth follows her pointing arm and sees that indeed, the Murrkat do appear to be torturing a man in the midst of the undead army. While he stands up, they circle him, almost dancing, and slash him with long black knives. It is still too far to see exactly what's happening, but the dance and the cutting have a ritualistic air. "There she is!" Garyth shouts, seeing the witch joining the dance around the tortured man.

The group has moved within a mile of the Nesalin forces, and Garyth says, "Just a few more minutes, men." The Falcon's draw their swords.

Kor Garesh takes the field.

The man who is being cut in the center of the undead army seems to burst, as if he'd exploded from the inside. And out of him a black shape rises, towering twenty five feet above the field. It is shaped like a huge gargoyle, with short legs and long, powerful arms ending in claws like war scythes. From its back sprout two masses of black tentacles, looking like those the witch summons. And its head is a huge gaping jawed nightmare, covered with horns and protrusions. Two eyes like red lamps gleam, and a mouth as wide as two men lets for a terrible roar.

The world goes black.

Inside this covering darkness, the men feel a wash of terror sweep over them like none they've ever felt. Garyth remembers the fear that Anileth put in his heart, and it is a pale wan shadow compared to the horror and terror he feels now. His heart races and for a moment he is sure it will stop. Around him, he can dimly hear his men screaming themselves hoarse, and he is only vaguely surprised to hear his own voice screaming along with theirs. The blackness lasts an eternity, and he screams in terror until the universe ends.

And then it is gone, and he realizes it was but a brief second. The demon is gone, nothing but a shattered human body remains where it had stood. But on the field, the armies of Nesalin break like water, each man dropping his weapons and fleeing as fast as his feet can carry him. The black army surges forward, the swifter creatures running down slower men. It is a rout. Garyth hears sobbing, and turns to see Kenneth, fallen off his horse, curled in a ball on the ground. The other men have kept their mounts, but all in are some stage of deathly fear, their faces white and panicked. Some distant rational part of his mind thinks, we were a mile away. What was this like for the men in the army? He can hear Osred praying loudly past his sobs. Rennik and Melani are both white with terror, but their people are known for their courage, and neither weeps.

In moments the fight is over. The army of Nesalin flees back to their city as fast as they can. The undead pause to devour those who have fallen on the field. Garyth says to no one, "They will take my home. They will take Overlook. We can't stop them. What can we do against that?"

Behind him, he hears Rennik reply, "We could beat them there. We could warn your people. We could give them time to flee. Perhaps they could make it to the woods, to join with my people. None of us will be able to face that alone." It is true, the black army does not look to be in a hurry.

Subject: In the library

It is approaching mid afternoon, when Sa'id and Farron sit in the library at the Wizard's college, poring through old manuscripts on magical imprisoning. A large stack of books sits nearby, waiting for them, and a much smaller stack of books already looked through sits on another table, waiting to be put away. Farron looks at the larger stack and smiles. "We could be here a while."

Sa'id nods, "Indeed. And I suspect that we may find little to help us. It was no act of wizardry that forged that black pillar in the mountain. It was the direct intervention of a god. God's are not known for putting their tricks into books."

Farron shrugs. "Perhaps not, but what else do we do? The search for Cadfael's killer has led nowhere. We know the name of our enemy but nothing else. We know that we can't fight it directly. If we can't repair the prison, then what?"

Sa'id opens his mouth to reply when the darkness falls. It is like the darkness that fell each day at noon, leading up to the birth of Promise. For a brief second, all lights go out, and a feeling like distant terror sweeps over them.

Subject: Re: An ambush that fails, an ambush that succeeds, and a general who takes the field

While the bugs were not as bad as in the forest, at least there she would have been able to hide in more shade. She did not like all this open space. It was damned hard to disappear behind a tree when there was no tree. She remembered to do the exercises her brother taught her so that she would not cramp up while waiting for the prey. Touching his bow, she prayed to his spirit to guide her arrows true when the bitch showed up.

It had been more than 1/2 an hour after when the witch was supposed to return. She looked over at the Chorrdath and made a small noise to get his attention. He seemed to know what she was asking before she asked it. He was impatient for the impending return as well. She sees him make a signal for them to go scouting. As quietly as she can, she moves out in the direction he indicated. For the next few minutes her mind is occupied with moving with out being seen or heard. Eventually she and Rennik get to a place where they have a good view of where they are and where the witch should be coming from. Rennik decides that the witch is not comming back. He instructs her to go keep a look out on the top of the hill while he reports to Garyth and they prepare the men to leave. She moves off as he request, taking position on top of the hill, her eyes vigilant for the witch.

A half hour latter, Melani gets up on her pony. Osred fires the wagon and the group heads off to Overlook.

An hour later they approach the battle. Melani stands up on the saddle of her mount, and shades her eyes. "There have already been clashes. I can see bodies on the field. The humans have set their spearmen in ranks, and there are many undead piled before them. The formations hold. The undead mill about as if waiting for something. It is said that their power is weakened in the light of the sun. They appear confused."

With that the group starts to canter so as to reach the battle. When they are about a mile away, the world ends.

She remembers seeing the body of the tortured man explode like something burst forth from it. A huge creature, like something from a nightmare raises above the field, sending forth waves of darkness and despair. Melani has never seen or felt anything like this. She longs to bolt and run home to her forest where she knows the evils. This is beyond her ken. Surprisingly all the members of the company have stayed, although a few of the humans seem to have lost their senses. Melani touches her bow and her armband, asking her ancestors for strenght and courage in this. Still trembling she watches the army of Nesaline shatter from the horror of the demon and run from the field. She feels no anger at these humans. Her people might have done the same if faced with this evil.

She hears the dispair in Garyth's voice when he mentions Overlook. She hears Rennik say that they could go help the town. That no one could fight this evil alone. She knows he is right. She moves her horse besides Garyth and tells him "Remember what I said about blood siblings? Well this is such a time. If your people are willing and my people still exists, I would offer the safety, such as there is, of my home to your people. Baring that, I offer my help to you in defending your home."

Mark

Subject: Re: An ambush that fails, an ambush that succeeds, and a general who takes the field

OOC: Want to know what sucks? When you've got a turn all written up, and your computer locks up. Luckily I was able to copy a fair amount of the text down onto scrap paper. Of course, in typing it out again I ended up changing it beyond recognition, but that's probably a good thing.

IC: Watching the undead army's ineffectual attack, Osred laughs aloud. The Darkness is weaker than The Light, here as ever. It cannot hope to do other than flee before the likes of Hironeous and Pelor, and it is in their name that Nesalin's arm fights. What is darkness, anyway, but the absence of light?

He watches slightly puzzled as the distant halflings fall on one of their allies, dancing around him in a frenzy of violence, and shakes his head, disgusted. "What're the miserable little bastards up to? Are they panicing, turning on each other?" He sqints. "Doesn't *look* like panic."

"Doesn't look like panic" is his last coherent thought for what feels like an eternity. He goggles, his mind refusing to connect the pieces for him, as Kor Garesh bursts forth from the ruined body. "But..." he says as the darkness envelops them, a foreign, plaintive note in his voice.

Then the terror washes over him, the force of it scouring all trace of Osred away, leaving the man he was before Hironeous saved him screaming, naked, vulnerable. That man's cries, his gibbering, his pleading drown out all else for a moment. The darkness isn't supposed to win. It isn't supposed to blot out the light! And now it's over, and he was never anything more than a god crazed bouncer, and it was all for nothing. The horror and the shame vie for the honor of drowning him entirely.

In his mind's eye, he sees a glimmer of light. "You're imagining it!" the voices of his former friends jeer. "It's in you're head! You're just having some kind of fit." Something in him turns, and rage rises within him, rage at the voices that seek to tear him down. His fury lifts him, carries him away from his fear, sweaps him toward the light. "Hironeous!" he cries, the tears flowing down his cheeks. "Hironeous! Save me. Save me now as you did then! A pure, clear tone seems to ring in his ears, drowning out the voices of his tormentors, and the light in his minds eye expands, painful in its intensity, and he seems to shrink to a single point within it. The light fades, and he finds himself mounted atop his horse, his face wet with tears and mucus, prayers flowing forth from his mouth despite the sobs that still wrack him.