Blood and Death, Fury and Love (Plot)
Oct 19, 2012 1:03:05 GMT -5
Post by Kender Bard on Oct 19, 2012 1:03:05 GMT -5
Emerald had been right--when the demons made their first strike, in the darkest part of the night--it had hit hard.
There had been no signals or signs of the sudden advance other than the sudden shrieking of all the demons as they surged forward in a chaotic manner from their camp a distance away. The screams were meant to demoralize and they worked well as men wailed out for Love, for home, for their mothers and lovers.
"ARCHERS!" Emerald cried out, trying to jolt their sentries and archer unit out of the momentary freeze that had settled on the men. Her lieutenants bellowed out echoes of her cry and the night suddenly was filled with the soft hiss of scores of arrows flying in the night. Many of the demons in the front ranks stumbled and went down which bolstered the men. A few soldiers ran the lines with a torch to light the oil-soaked tips of the fire arrows. The next volley lit up the night and allowed them to get a better view of their foes.
Perhaps it would have been wiser to leave things in the dark. The sheer bulk and number was daunting. At Emerald's sweeping glance, she presumed there had to be at least three demons for each man there.
More arrows and the heavy armor units moved up to the front to begin forming a barricade, a shield wall. The cavalry were awaiting orders, their horses dancing eagerly in place. Emerald was loathe to use them in the dark, where they ran the risk of losing far more people to the treacherous dark, but she dared not keep them in reserve when survival was so key.
Think, Emerald, she thought, frowning at herself. Don't freeze up now, when you're so badly needed. She knew one thing was for sure--they needed light. They needed their holy sun. But no amount of wishing or praying would hasten the sun, so she would resort to the next best thing: cleansing fire.
"CAVALRY!" she shouted, and the lieutenant in charge of the division was in front of her like magic. "Send the Fire-signed men out first. Give them oil and tell them to light us a path in the dark. I don't care if they just zig zag in front of the front lines, but the closer they get to the enemy the better. Maybe the fire will persuade them not to rush us or to attack quite so eagerly."
They did as she asked and soon there were streaks of fire showing up on the ground. This manuever cost them two men, which she noted and then filed away as just a bit of information for tactical purposes. Two less cavalry. Precious resource lost, but it had been a necessary expenditure. The demons weren't bothered by the fire like she'd hoped, though. It was spread out far enough away to not utterly ruin her men's nightvision but it did seem to affect the demons a bit in this regard. That was comforting. They charged through and over the flames but some of them slowed as they were dazzled by the sudden light. Any who did this found themselves dead as archers picked off the easy targets quickly.
The first wave of demons were almost on them. The heavy units were about to engage them, their spears held out in a bristling pallisade. Again, there was no hesitation--the demons slammed into the front lines, throwing themselves eagerly on weapons if only to get a shot at taking out the man that held it. The heavy armor served the soldiers well but it slowed them, wore them down quickly. The demons adapted to this and began to swarm over any man who seemed to be flagging, using sheer numbers to drop him.
"First and seventh units, go!" Emerald ordered, and the foot soldiers, the bulk of their army, were unleashed. It was chaos. They couldn't hope to hold perfect formations but to Emerald's dismay, more than once a group of men would break and run. She could scarcely blame them. The demons weren't simply trying to kill them. They were trying to maim, torture, hurt. It was as if pain, more than death, was their goal. They took out eyes, spat globs of acidic goo into faces, injected poison, and more horrors. Where a thrall fell, they lay still, but where a demon fell, there was usually aftermath as there was in Widor.
Screeching filled the air again, but this time it came from above. Emerald's head snapped up as she saw winged demonic figures of all shapes and sizes making their way above them. They'd flown quietly and using the dark to their advantage, coming close, too close, before tipping their hand. "WINDS!"
And the Winds, of all divisions, worked together to try to bring them down. Some sucked with their element, using downdrafts and other tricks, while others flew up on wings to do battle.
There were so many. "STORMS!" The air filled with crackling electricity, which seemed to take down a few, but they had to be careful not to hit their winged comrades. Emerald watched in despair as a few sailed on over them, past them, towards Neo'anar. "Don't let them reach the city!" Archers and Winds took after them. Now their attention was divided between the air and the ground and more men died to pay for the distraction. They were taking down a number of the enemy, giving more than they took in terms of sheer damage, but for each fallen man Emerald knew that it was a permanent loss... And a potential gain for their enemy. Wasting men on collecting bodies didn't help either.
She watched the carnage unfold and prayed that Neo'anar was untouched.
The city was hushed and tense. Everyone seemed to know that their soldiers were out there fighting and dying to keep them safe. The air was thick with tension and an almost palitable sense of doom. It hung heavy, pressed down like a hand.
From the northern walls there were sudden shouts which split this silence. Attack! Attack! Enemy sighted from the north!
Twilight had been walking with Young Barrera, his Commander of the Guards. The two had been keeping a friendly silence, but both stopped as the noise reached them and they turned to the northern walls. Without needing to be told, both men took off in a sprint in the direction. Before they'd even gotten halfway there, Twilight could hear--and almost feel--a deep and heavy thudding sound, like the footfalls of a giant. But he knew that wasn't the case (or rather, his eyes told him it wasn't.) He had a better idea of what it was.
"Siege weapons," Young panted as he sprinted beside his king. Twilight gave a nod of agreement and they both put a bit more speed into their run.
They weren't siege weapons in the traditional sense. They were demons who just happened to be well suited to the purpose. Heavy, fat demons with rolls of fat that seemed to just absorb arrows shot at them, were ramming round, hard heads against the wall in steady rhythm. As Twilight approached, she saw the burning oil being rolled over. They must have fetched it from the west wall where it was more heavily fortified. He climbed the ramparts, fighting to keep his balance as the wall shuddered under blows, and watched as the vat was upended on the demons below.
They cried out, as if in pain, and the men cheered. Fires throw down their flames, as did other elements, everyone working together to attack safely from afar. It was good to get these demons down, Twilight thought, but he could see more approaching rapidly. There had to be about eighty of them--a larger band than he liked to see for the number of men they were keeping battle-ready in the city. He glanced back down as one of the demons groaned and listed to one side like a great, overripe fruit. The men cheered more, secure in the knowledge of their foe slain. Then the demon popped and hundreds of tiny demons no bigger than a man's hand skittered out, climbed the walls as if it was no challenge at all, and began to attack the men. Twilight immediately backpedaled, touching one of his water signs. He washed away the demons that swarmed after him with a powerful blast of water, washing them away. They were many but they weren't very strong. Men screamed and writhed, dropping, as the little demons bit them. Angry red and purple marks showed on the flesh where they had been bitten.
Twilight freed himself from the mess and darted down the ramparts to where reinforcements were joining them. He grabbed a man at random. "Go tell the other walls that the attack is coming from the north! Do NOT leave the other posts unmanned, but send as many as you can!"
Demons that looked a little like giant, flaming hawks soared overhead. Twilight took one down with a well placed bolt of lightning.
Neo'anar was under attack. He drew his swords, one a shining, silvery heirloom and the other crackling with electricity, Force-blessed. Twilight turned and joined the men under attack again. It was time to defend his home.
[[People playing soldiers on the field of battle or guards and volunteers on Anarlina's walls are to post in this topic. Anyone else who wishes to be involved may make a new thread and mark it as a plot post.]]
There had been no signals or signs of the sudden advance other than the sudden shrieking of all the demons as they surged forward in a chaotic manner from their camp a distance away. The screams were meant to demoralize and they worked well as men wailed out for Love, for home, for their mothers and lovers.
"ARCHERS!" Emerald cried out, trying to jolt their sentries and archer unit out of the momentary freeze that had settled on the men. Her lieutenants bellowed out echoes of her cry and the night suddenly was filled with the soft hiss of scores of arrows flying in the night. Many of the demons in the front ranks stumbled and went down which bolstered the men. A few soldiers ran the lines with a torch to light the oil-soaked tips of the fire arrows. The next volley lit up the night and allowed them to get a better view of their foes.
Perhaps it would have been wiser to leave things in the dark. The sheer bulk and number was daunting. At Emerald's sweeping glance, she presumed there had to be at least three demons for each man there.
More arrows and the heavy armor units moved up to the front to begin forming a barricade, a shield wall. The cavalry were awaiting orders, their horses dancing eagerly in place. Emerald was loathe to use them in the dark, where they ran the risk of losing far more people to the treacherous dark, but she dared not keep them in reserve when survival was so key.
Think, Emerald, she thought, frowning at herself. Don't freeze up now, when you're so badly needed. She knew one thing was for sure--they needed light. They needed their holy sun. But no amount of wishing or praying would hasten the sun, so she would resort to the next best thing: cleansing fire.
"CAVALRY!" she shouted, and the lieutenant in charge of the division was in front of her like magic. "Send the Fire-signed men out first. Give them oil and tell them to light us a path in the dark. I don't care if they just zig zag in front of the front lines, but the closer they get to the enemy the better. Maybe the fire will persuade them not to rush us or to attack quite so eagerly."
They did as she asked and soon there were streaks of fire showing up on the ground. This manuever cost them two men, which she noted and then filed away as just a bit of information for tactical purposes. Two less cavalry. Precious resource lost, but it had been a necessary expenditure. The demons weren't bothered by the fire like she'd hoped, though. It was spread out far enough away to not utterly ruin her men's nightvision but it did seem to affect the demons a bit in this regard. That was comforting. They charged through and over the flames but some of them slowed as they were dazzled by the sudden light. Any who did this found themselves dead as archers picked off the easy targets quickly.
The first wave of demons were almost on them. The heavy units were about to engage them, their spears held out in a bristling pallisade. Again, there was no hesitation--the demons slammed into the front lines, throwing themselves eagerly on weapons if only to get a shot at taking out the man that held it. The heavy armor served the soldiers well but it slowed them, wore them down quickly. The demons adapted to this and began to swarm over any man who seemed to be flagging, using sheer numbers to drop him.
"First and seventh units, go!" Emerald ordered, and the foot soldiers, the bulk of their army, were unleashed. It was chaos. They couldn't hope to hold perfect formations but to Emerald's dismay, more than once a group of men would break and run. She could scarcely blame them. The demons weren't simply trying to kill them. They were trying to maim, torture, hurt. It was as if pain, more than death, was their goal. They took out eyes, spat globs of acidic goo into faces, injected poison, and more horrors. Where a thrall fell, they lay still, but where a demon fell, there was usually aftermath as there was in Widor.
Screeching filled the air again, but this time it came from above. Emerald's head snapped up as she saw winged demonic figures of all shapes and sizes making their way above them. They'd flown quietly and using the dark to their advantage, coming close, too close, before tipping their hand. "WINDS!"
And the Winds, of all divisions, worked together to try to bring them down. Some sucked with their element, using downdrafts and other tricks, while others flew up on wings to do battle.
There were so many. "STORMS!" The air filled with crackling electricity, which seemed to take down a few, but they had to be careful not to hit their winged comrades. Emerald watched in despair as a few sailed on over them, past them, towards Neo'anar. "Don't let them reach the city!" Archers and Winds took after them. Now their attention was divided between the air and the ground and more men died to pay for the distraction. They were taking down a number of the enemy, giving more than they took in terms of sheer damage, but for each fallen man Emerald knew that it was a permanent loss... And a potential gain for their enemy. Wasting men on collecting bodies didn't help either.
She watched the carnage unfold and prayed that Neo'anar was untouched.
The city was hushed and tense. Everyone seemed to know that their soldiers were out there fighting and dying to keep them safe. The air was thick with tension and an almost palitable sense of doom. It hung heavy, pressed down like a hand.
From the northern walls there were sudden shouts which split this silence. Attack! Attack! Enemy sighted from the north!
Twilight had been walking with Young Barrera, his Commander of the Guards. The two had been keeping a friendly silence, but both stopped as the noise reached them and they turned to the northern walls. Without needing to be told, both men took off in a sprint in the direction. Before they'd even gotten halfway there, Twilight could hear--and almost feel--a deep and heavy thudding sound, like the footfalls of a giant. But he knew that wasn't the case (or rather, his eyes told him it wasn't.) He had a better idea of what it was.
"Siege weapons," Young panted as he sprinted beside his king. Twilight gave a nod of agreement and they both put a bit more speed into their run.
They weren't siege weapons in the traditional sense. They were demons who just happened to be well suited to the purpose. Heavy, fat demons with rolls of fat that seemed to just absorb arrows shot at them, were ramming round, hard heads against the wall in steady rhythm. As Twilight approached, she saw the burning oil being rolled over. They must have fetched it from the west wall where it was more heavily fortified. He climbed the ramparts, fighting to keep his balance as the wall shuddered under blows, and watched as the vat was upended on the demons below.
They cried out, as if in pain, and the men cheered. Fires throw down their flames, as did other elements, everyone working together to attack safely from afar. It was good to get these demons down, Twilight thought, but he could see more approaching rapidly. There had to be about eighty of them--a larger band than he liked to see for the number of men they were keeping battle-ready in the city. He glanced back down as one of the demons groaned and listed to one side like a great, overripe fruit. The men cheered more, secure in the knowledge of their foe slain. Then the demon popped and hundreds of tiny demons no bigger than a man's hand skittered out, climbed the walls as if it was no challenge at all, and began to attack the men. Twilight immediately backpedaled, touching one of his water signs. He washed away the demons that swarmed after him with a powerful blast of water, washing them away. They were many but they weren't very strong. Men screamed and writhed, dropping, as the little demons bit them. Angry red and purple marks showed on the flesh where they had been bitten.
Twilight freed himself from the mess and darted down the ramparts to where reinforcements were joining them. He grabbed a man at random. "Go tell the other walls that the attack is coming from the north! Do NOT leave the other posts unmanned, but send as many as you can!"
Demons that looked a little like giant, flaming hawks soared overhead. Twilight took one down with a well placed bolt of lightning.
Neo'anar was under attack. He drew his swords, one a shining, silvery heirloom and the other crackling with electricity, Force-blessed. Twilight turned and joined the men under attack again. It was time to defend his home.
[[People playing soldiers on the field of battle or guards and volunteers on Anarlina's walls are to post in this topic. Anyone else who wishes to be involved may make a new thread and mark it as a plot post.]]