! Registered Member #20
Joined: 8:30:40 am GMT 02/25/04
Posts: 7094
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Within the waters...
In the waters off of Hammersong’s eastern coast, a ship sailed out of the fog.
It would have been difficult to miss this particular ship, if one were somehow within the waters to see it. Once a Sandburrow vessel, it had been rebuilt. Torn down almost down to its planks. The ship’s sails stretched higher than it ever had, its masts reaching into the skies above. The bow had been carved into the shape of a dragon’s head, some power deep within the vessel sending a crimson glow through the dragon’s carved ‘eyes.’
On the deck of the ship moved the figures of dozens of dragonkin. Chromatic and metallic alike. The kin were clad in piecemeal armor and supplies, moving with pride and purpose. Shouts and snarls filling the air as the monstrous creatures barely maintained a semblance of order.
The hull of the ship had been reinforced. Magical warding ensuring it would not crumble against simple flame or magic. Along the sides of the ship, ports could be seen, openings within the hull from which the crew would fire their pilfered weaponry. It moved through the water unnaturally fast. A ship ready for war.
Another ship sailed out of the fog. Not so different from the first. Then, another ship. And another.
The dragon’s fleet sailed along the coast. Moving swiftly with the rising northern wind...
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Within the forests...
Within the northern woods called the adumbral, a cocoon burst like an overripe fruit.
No one was present to see the silken webs break apart. Torn as they tried to contain the sheer volume of what was within. The cocoon had been bloated, hundreds of black spiders squirming and crawling over one another. Most of them no larger than a thumbnail in size.
As if taking a signal, other cocoons began to open. The creatures within them tearing their way out through the silk at the sound of skittering legs. The spiders from within the cocoons swarmed, like a single mass. A trickle of arachnids that soon became a river, and then a flood. Full of purpose from the moment of their birth.
They skittered south and east, towards the high-walled city in the distance. Other, far larger spiders could be glimpsed moving within the distant trees.
The skitter of legs became deafening, as the flood began to pour forth...
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Within the skies...
High above the northern lands of Thain, a shadow dragon flew through the clouds.
The shadow dragon was called Grevex. The darkness clinging to him, making him appear from far enough away as no more than a dark cloud. He was an ancient creature, one who had seen the days before the city called Dragon’s Watch was founded.
Astride Grevex was Kallista D’Mora, the Witch of the North. Her staff gripped within her hand, guiding the dragon from astride his neck, the wind rushing through her hair.
Kallista knew better than to fly too close to the Watch itself. Her enemy had had ample time to prefer her defenses against flying dragons. There would be ballistae, or worse weapons. Yet she could soar near enough to see the walls. The tower that had once been her home stretching into the sky, darkened now.
Yet she could fly above the northern lands. Observe, as the allies she had gathered at least begun to make their move.
Nayritha had gone unchecked for too long. She had been allowed too much space to scheme her defense of her city. Too many chances to hold onto power a human could never be worthy of. Once already, Kallista had offered the woman too much time to fortify her position. The witch of the north had no intention of repeating the mistake a second time.
With or without the Iron City. The time had come to strike.
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Registered Member #1120
Joined: 4:36:33 am GMT 07/27/07
Posts: 491
“Too many, too many…” The smell of ionized air mixed with that of scorched chitin, the blood oozing from a bite on his temple and the smoke that leaked from the panting wyrmling firmly gasping his shoulder plate with her claws and his neck with her tail. Nearly spent. Not nearly enough. A turn of the head revealed the two Empyrean initiates, their companions on this bout of ill-planned scouting, had put enough distance between themselves and the press of chittering legs and fangs that swarmed upon the mage and his scaly partner.
“Goodgoodgood…”, the revelation had helped stem his rising panic, allowing an instinctual gathering of raw power. Unleashed, it burst upon the arthropods assailing him, killing the smaller, closer assailants and bowling over the larger and those further away. “Here we go”, and the two rose up on a gust of air to land near the two initiates, fleeing alongside them back toward Hamley’s eastern gate.
The four arrived, exhausted and injured, but alive. As the two great wooden doors swung open, a squad of Empyreans emerged to secure the door while the haggard quartet stumbled within its protective enclosure, but to Teron’s surprise, they were not followed. Grabbing the nearest tree and gasping to regain his breath, the mage fell to his knees, surprisingly not causing Sharuga to fall off of his shoulders. As several minutes passed, he began to regain his composure, while his mind raced to collect the details of what had happened.
“Large spider movement. Volunteered to accompany pair of scouts. Left through gate, spotted movement, attempted estimation of force, density of numbers and speed of movement means potentially several hundred per day, got too close, swarmed, fought, fled.”
He began gathering his thoughts for his report to the colonel. Contact would also need to be established with the School. Regardless of what may happen in the south, he was needed here. Devils to the west, spiders cutting off supplies and possible escape routes to the east. Situation dire.
The seven ashwing furies of the Iron City circled above the western Empyrean lands like vultures over a weakened foal. Further to the west, at the mouth of Drakamyre Canyon's opening, hellfire flared in crimson hues: a signal from the Hellknight Duxotari.
"The Hellknight legions are in position, it is time for blood and fire!" shrieked Valpolamon, "To battle we soar, sisters!" she cried as the seven furies descended down outside of Hamley's western reaches. Melphaecto held close to her a large chunk of iron and stone... rubble from the Iron Wall that had loosened during the Empyrean's siege on the infernal city. While she moved into position the other six taunted and goaded Hamley's scouts along its western roads.
Alarms were raised, bells rung out along the countryside as desperate mortals fled home and village to make way towards the safety of the Empyrean fortifications that dotted Hamley. Man, woman, and child all fled for Fort Bennars bringing with them only what they could grab quickly in the panic of infernal threat.
Soon the furies stood at the gate, facing down not only Empyrean forces but Keepers, Bloodguard, and elves alike. The seven ashwings made careful note of their faces while they screamed and taunted, Melphaecto standing atop the rubble she carried all the way from home. Both sides could sense the standstill growing thin, the tension like a humidity before skies break into a storm. It grew and grew... until Colonel Darienne of Empyrea called to her knight Sollis Lott, "Sir Lott, show these devils how celestials fight!"
As his mount broke forward an arrow was loosed from a nearby tower, fixed on Melphaecto before she spread her wings and soared back: the arrowhead shattered on the iron rubble as it dented the surface and fell uselessly into the grass. The Iron Wall was attacked, the peace treaty between Empyrea and The Iron City of Azuul was null and void. The Erinyes spread their wings and took into the sky, shrieking...
"...all Hell breaks loose..."
...within the hour southern farmlands were being consumed by the inferno of the furies' fires. Merloxiel gave out a screaming cry as Garrik cleaved her fiendish form in two as her body and wings began to dissipate to ash. In a nearby field her armored sister, Valpolamon, was but a pile of soot. Keeper Teron kept his palms outstretched, commanding both elementals of water and fire alike to quell the growing flames that surrounded them in the golden fields. Ash threatened to choke them, and the heroes moved back while in the rising smoke two Erinyes rose. Melphaecto carried with her Aldr’skegga, the duergar menace, while Amarozelgoth carried with her Senator Aldorian Walker. The heroes could only watch them rise with the smoke as they were pushed back to a choke point where Teron was able to cut the flames off from reaching Hamley proper.
"...Hell and highwater..."
Night began to fall and still flames rose; this time from a tiny village south west of Hamley known as Tharnal. Colonel Darienne continued to ensure refugees passed safely into her gates but kept her eyes towards the growing flames of the southwest. Again the heroes answered, rushing for the village.
Inside the farmers had huddled inside a nearby well-cave. Mothers hugged their children, rocking them and trying to silence their cries as two Empyrean Acolytes stood at the mouth with hands up in prayer. "Light of Andarus hold the night! Light of Andarus hold the night!" they chanted as glyphs of light warded the entrance. The remaining five furies circled about Tharnal, firing arrows into the Empyrean vanguard that tried to stop them.
Cabrizax hissed and directed the furies, duergar, and Iron Senator towards the warded cave. Aldorian only smirked and began weaving his hands as the flames that overtook the village began to swirling about his fingers, converting to Hellfire as he ushered the eldritch fire forward and enveloped the side of the hill in a mighty burst of flame and force as earth and rock sealed the villagers inside.
"More come!" screeched Amarozelgoth as not only Empyreans ran in but Keepers, Bloodguard, and elven allies. Spellfire flared and arrows of flame cried past the rising smoke of the ruined village, one by one the furies fell. Amarozelgoth looked to Melphaecto, her face twisted into a grin from the thrill of war, and bid her, "We have succeeded, take the Senator and go!"
"...Hell hath no fury..."
Back in the Iron City Senator Thorne stood before a pit of swirling smoke as three warlocks wove their spells. In the maelstrom of it she saw much: burning fields, the fear in the villagers' hearts, cries of helplessness. But as the smoke darkened then parted to show a new image she saw something that brought her rosy lips to an impish curl. She opened a small circular pocket mirror and began applying a darker, crimson hue to her lips for the occasion. "Warlock Empola," one of the cowled men snapped to attention, "Be and dear and send word to Senator Walker..."
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"...the distraction was successful. The Hellknight Legion has passed through the Adumbral and have made it to through to the basecamp. The Drow Witch has upheld her end of the bargain, her spiders have stayed their venom. The siege on Dragons' Watch shall proceed as planned."
Registered Member #25343
Joined: 8:54:42 pm GMT 08/30/19
Posts: 124
A delivery
Many think that to sprout wings and take to the skies dwarfs all other sensations, but it is not true. Rather than fly, she had swum. Felt the currents against her skin, her fins. She had become a great shark, an arrow that had shot through the waters of eastern Thain, proud and bound for the fortress where armies gathered. She had seen the vessels encroaching upon the Watch, but she had not been impressed by them – or those they bore. She had passed them, risen from the surface and broken into a hundred wasps, only to reform on a certain balcony.
And she had fulfilled part of her pact and delivered half of the key.
[ The Island of Thain ]
Sorceress With Apple
