NORWICK IS OVERTAKEN!
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*Rumors spread that Dwin in the accompany of Rhyn and Lily went North of Norwick to see if they could stir some reaction from the enemy. Not hearing movement for nearly a week… Lily was more then willing to help. What ensued was a tirade of bugbears, goblins and eventual orcs crashing into Sam's hill. With orders from Dwin and a few others, the barricades were constructed quickly despite their poor craftsmanship. The pair of dwarves manning the catapult could be heard cackling among the defenders boisterously.
Morales up and those gathered are often heard saying... "Those Bugbears... them Goblins... they don't deserve Norwick... they've been riding the skirts a them Giants and Orcs for too long!"
Though the defense was successful, Lily can be seen moving rather slowly among the camp the following week. Her old body not fit for carrying lumber, attacking the enemy, and tending to the wounded simultaneously. Those who were keen enough to notice among the fight note that Lily and the pair of dwarves put up a majority of the eastern barricade. And when a catapult fired too shortly the trio were often the first down there with more lumber as others patched it together.
Though her body will need a few days to recover... an expression of pure joy is etched across Lily's features at the use of Sam's hill again as a staging point in history.*
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*The battle had raged at the foot of the hill for two days. The dwarven contigent had set up barricades to the east and west to funnel the enemy to the main road. The dwarves then manned the catapault and rained stone and fire upon the advancing goblins, bugbears and orcs. Three times the barricades were breached and defenders had to go forth to close them and prevent flanking attacks. Defenders from the entire region put forth a coordinated effort to repel attack after attack. Those with skill in healing moved constantly among the defenders bringing the forces back to fighting trim between bouts of heavy fighting. At the rising of the sun on the third morning the enemy retreated to lick its wounds. Drums were beaten on Sam's hill and voices raised in shouting "Norwick" rang through the valley.
A heavy watch was set and weary troops moved back. Archers replenished supplies of arrows. Bloody hands and aching arms were offset by victorious grins. None were reported as fallen in this long assault. A testement to the defenders skill and their working togther.*
((A big thank you to May and other DM's or helpers and all the defenders. Probably one of the best battle sequences I have ever been involved in))
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_Weary warriors stand atop of Sam's Hill, the echo of battle drums still audible throughout the valley leading to Norwick.
Hundreds of goblin, bugbear, and orc bodies lay strewn at the bottom of the hill. So many, that their corpses were used as temporary barriers from the oncoming attacks.
Members of the Norwick Militia, Legion, Peltarch forces, Camp, and other groups all worked together… and were victorious. A few enlisted men fell on the Defenders' side, but the battle was clearly one-sided.
Quick thinking and some preparation led to thorny barricades which funnelled the attackeds into a steadfast defense; like waves breaking upon rocks.
Of particular note was the precision placement of fire-bombs and boulders by two dwarves that manned the eastern catapult throughout the engagement. Without their tireless efforts, the battle could have played out much differently. It is said that Dwin may have given them both Militia positions on the spot for their work.
When the battle was over, all that was heard was the moaning of the near-dead invaders, and battle drums.
But this time, the battle drums were those of the defenders._
((wow, what a great time last night, thanks to everyone involved!))
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The last time Rhistin saw Aelthas was when he was walking Southbound from the refugee camp. It looked as if he was troubled. In her eagerness to help, she approaches him at Sam's Point.
Pointing at her fellow Wolves and Ridian, she addresses the Gypsy Commander. "You're in need of some trackers?" Aelthas looks around at the group: "Not at the moment." Adlanail is a bit disappointed by this answer and shakes his bow demonstratively. "A bow or two ?" But the Commander shakes his head. "A bow for what? I am not intending on fighting anything." Picking up on his gloomy mood, Adlanail continues with a grin. "Well..I could play it..but it'd be a rather uninspiring tune….
Clearly not amused by the joke, Aelthas tells him he's simply taking a walk. "Even I need a break at times." Rhistin's suggestion to walk with him is dismissed with a deep sigh: "I prefer walking alone.. and yes, as far as I know, the enemy has dug in and hasnt moved much."
She then notices the grieved look on Aelthas's face and backs down. Yet the commander continues. "That would require a long journey into the underdark and I cannot be away for that long." He then rubs the side of his face, looking tired he walks off quietly. "Excuse me."
Ridian tries to lift the spirits of the group that stays behind. <e>Yes. This war makes me appear a merry jester. But he fails and shakes his head sadly.</e>
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_Several days pass, the Romani getting even more agitated by the absence of their commander.
Still Aelthas hasnt shown up, no sign has been found as to where he might be.
Romani scouts are sent out around the clock to look for signs of his whereabouts._
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_Heavy steps of a full armored warrior makes the current stationary guards brows meet into a frown. The armor is black, and even though very worn still surprisingly intact. With chains stuck on the mans wrists and feet’s, slow and heavy steps dragging them behind causes a sound with an almost horrifying effect. The elf is tall and wide for his kin, although with the plate from his right bicep blown away in recent fight, a skin so dark is revealed not even the moonlight allows one to actually differ it from the armor itself.
His march reaches till an abrupt halt. At first the figure only stares at the vision displayed before his eyes; burning towers, marching goblins, bodies of men, elves and dwarves. The stare is turned into a widened smile, soon a grin and before the notice of anything else – a laughter so great, so heartedly, so loud and filled with air it is fit in no better situation than absolute happiness or relief.
The rain pours down heavily on his shoulders, his skin gets colder and the pain from the 10fold of wounds covering his body couldn’t be more forgotten. In time the laughter fades away, and so does the echoing sound of chains being pulled further and further away._
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Near the road heading towards Norwick, but not quite where normal bugbear patrols begin, was a mess of blood and gore. It seemed almost that a body exploded, sending pieces and blood pouring to the ground. What caused it is unknown, but a Norwick made sword lieing near the puddle of bodily fluids and debree gave the indication that it may once have been a norwick guard.
On another note, a few reports may come back stating that a tall man approached the Norwick gates just at sundown a day ago. His armor was said to be deep black with a tinge of purple, a strange demonic mask upon his face, and a wicked looking club in hand. The bugbear forces there held fire, and a giant pulled open the door for him before he strode in.
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A newly uniformed Neal has been spotted helping as best as he can in the war effort, providing bandages when and where needed. He has also been encouraging a counterattack on Norwick to drive the bugbears away. He has also been scouting around Norwick, using the sight of his invisible dragon familiar and at times taking the initiative to harrass the bugbears with guerilla tactics, throwing a lightning bolt here and there, then going invisible again, tossing a few magic missiles, then going invisible again and departing.
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_As dawn approaches over the camp and the guards go about their usual duties, the Romani are seen waiting on the hill for their commander to receive orders, like every morning.
As hours go by, the Romani start to look around camp for Aelthas, but he is nowhere to be found.
One of the night guards would report that Aelthas went for his usual walk after dusk and he hasnt seen him since.
It seems that Aelthas is gone and no one can tell where he went._
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_With Zoma fully combat ready now sooner than expected due to Dwin's immediate attention, he is seen spending lots of time at the border between the Norwick camp and the former town known as Norwick.
It seems he is mostly concerned with the fate of his wife current whereabouts unknown as she was last seen active in the rawlins before the fall of the town._
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Dwin stares hard at the letter, then at the finger. He seems to mutter to himself for a second, then snaps his fingers and points to the fallen messenger.
Get this lad some rest… I cant fathom what he's been through. Make sure there is some ale in him at least.
Foilir has given me the finger. The tide turns again.
Dwin slides his helm on and readies his axe. he then ventures south where he makes his way (assumedly) southwest towards the Dwarven Hold.
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- Time passes in the camp. The initial unique living conditions give way to the routine of live in tents and the inclement weather becomes more the focus that the lack of outhouses.
Suddenly, a dwarven runner darts into the camp, his feet hitting the snow like lead. The tell tale signs of axes thrown at his back, and the strain of a long distance sprint show on his face.
He runs into the camp and seems to hone in on the deep tones of the dwarven militia captain, and heads towards him, panting harder and falling as he knows he has almost achieved his goal.
The dwarven messenger falls to his knees while pulling the letter from inside his woven tunic.
The Norwick guards step closer as the strange dwarf's actions could be perceived as a weak attempt at the captain's life, but quickly relent as they view the parchment held out in a shaky hand towards the guard captain.
As Dwin takes the letter, the dwarven messenger succumbs to the effects of the journey and the various attempts to fell him along his route. He falls face first in the snow, coloring it with his blood as he seeks solace from the pain in the cold. As he gets number and number he falls into unconsciousness.
Dwin opens the stained parchment containing a familiar ring of the Dolvak clan grudge bearer, still on a severed finger. The blood stained parchment reads.
Grobi uzkul got*
(( Goblin death marches ))
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@d21095f30b=Scutum:
@d21095f30b=ArUlric:
Mercy has been loitering about the refugee camp, reminding the victims of Norwick of the scent of the sea and explaining to them, by her mere presence why they don't live in Peltarch. While she takes a stompy turn about the camp, she draws aside several Norwick Guardsmen conspiratorially, asking them if they think that "Field-Marshall" Dwin might benefit from a splash of lusty relaxation in her naval boudoir to take his mind off his current troubles - and also, fix his back. Current dress options include both livid sea green and urchin pink mini-skirts. The Priestess of Umberlee is undecided on which to wear for her seductive task.
Those attuned to the whispers of the fugue plains carried on the wind might detect a the echoes of a lass alternating between guttural streams of dwarven cursing and anguished wailings of despair and torment.
((LOL… Dwin is the "prettiest girl at the dance"))
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@cad0dbd82b=Herrold:
- A few dwarves saying nothing and just looking through the encampment as if searching for someone.
One seeing the form of the militia captain, grabs one of the others and immediately dispatches him north. The other two take a breath in relief and keep an eye on him, but take care not to be noticed. *
_Though the camp is filled with people, the 2 dwarves with a familiar accent do not escape Dwin's field of vision. Following the recent events in the camp, he calls them into his tent.
Several minutes later, they emerge with a small parcel and head immediately north on some errand or another._
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@aa643579ae=ArUlric:
Mercy has been loitering about the refugee camp, reminding the victims of Norwick of the scent of the sea and explaining to them, by her mere presence why they don't live in Peltarch. While she takes a stompy turn about the camp, she draws aside several Norwick Guardsmen conspiratorially, asking them if they think that "Field-Marshall" Dwin might benefit from a splash of lusty relaxation in her naval boudoir to take his mind off his current troubles - and also, fix his back. Current dress options include both livid sea green and urchin pink mini-skirts. The Priestess of Umberlee is undecided on which to wear for her seductive task.
Those attuned to the whispers of the fugue plains carried on the wind might detect a the echoes of a lass alternating between guttural streams of dwarven cursing and anguished wailings of despair and torment.
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_Keira flits about between the refugee camp and the southern defences of Jiyyd, adding to the growing web of distribution that the Sisterhood provides for food and other medical supplies.
If Lilin, or other Sisters, are heading into battle she'll often tag along but seems disinclined to line fight._
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A crowd gathers as Dwin announces the banishment of a man clad in black armor. He was dubbed a traitor, but little else was said regarding the banishment. Said man clad in black armor can often be seen pacing the barriers of his restricted area.
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_The saurial criminal from norwick, whose scales were green and some bronze, and happened to be carrying no weapons, turned himself in to one Dwin Dolvak, the militia captain, Who happened to be wearing his helmet and speaking to three persons.
Nearby the Magistrate Shannon, and Senator Mariston stood, speaking to each other.
The vile criminal was sentenced to help free norwick, and remove any evil within it.
It was also snowing that day. And nighttime._
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Information is quickly spread, whenever such conversation is brought up, that Corana had long been a citizen and a common figure around Peltarch and unless she was deaf and dumb, would have known the VERY commonly known rule of Peltarch Law that fleeing arrest is admission of ones guilt
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Word eventually reaches southward that Corana Lyonsen was found guilty of kidnapping and torture, given sentences of ten years for each charge by Magistrate Shannon. Rumor has it that she was not given a trial, as her initial reluctance to turn herself in was deemed fleeing from arrest, a charge which is deemed an automatic admission of guilt.
