At the mention of the Shatar name Anvil tenses and then forces himself to relax. After the young man finishes his peice Anvil looks at him and says
"Me and mine played a vital part in the fall of your people and loss of your city. Why would you want to aid us now? Pardon my thoughts but I in your position would be more inclined to side with Harrow and try to kill those of us who opposed your family in the last war. "
Anvil begins pacing slightly agitated.
"You offer me information and the promise future troops to fight against Harrow and your current leaders. How do I know this isn't a trap of some kind?"
Anvil stops and looks at the man.
"I'm willing to take your word on these things but don't be offended if I don't trust you."
"I do not expect trust from you. Baethor, the dwarf, said I should speak to you. You are a leader, one who is respected among the Jovians. Lord Anvil, though your tactics we're not honorable at Jove, They will always be remembered and we will be prepared next time. The Jovians do not see defeat as failure, but as a lesson. And now I seek your wisdom, I do not wish to kill my own brothers, but I cannot let Karth put this False Emperor on the thrown."
Anvil looks into the eyes of Cato for a few heartbeats and then steps closer.
"Then this is the old -the enemy of my enemy is my friend- it seems. So be it. But let us also talk about afterwards. Your people need a home now that the city of Jove is beyond your reach for the time being."
Anvil begins pacing again.
"So how do you want to see this to end and let's try to work backwards from there."
"Well in the Jovian Army, if you are not promoted, you may challenge the rank immediately above you. From Top to bottom it goes, Emperor is lord, General commands a legion of 5000 Legionarii, Captains command about 100, Centurion 10 to 30, then Legionarius is a basic soldier."
He catches his breath. "I am just a Centurion, but it I think I will have enough behind me to support my challenge."
He looks to his hands. "But I don't know if I could beat him. He is a fierce warrior."
He motions for Cato to follow him to a nearby doorway.
"I need to look at some maps and find out from you a couple of things, where are your troops located, their numbers, and what would be the best bait to lure them out."
Anvil enters a large room and walks over to a table covered in maps, he starts shuffling through them looking for the ones he thinks he needs. A pair of officers are already in the war room and an attendant enters carrying a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of ice water.
Post by Burz Bonehammer on Jun 27, 2011 18:23:37 GMT -5
Burz stood with his men in the alleyway nearest the gates to the palace. With his band clustered around him, Burz took the chance to brief them one last time. He turned to Jax and Ur'thak specifically, the former grinning mischeiviously and the latter maintaining a menacing, stony silence.
"Jax, as I said, you're covering the retreat. I want you and your archers on the rooftops to lay out any of Harrow's flock that tries to pursue us. Be ready to join us back at our quarters." He turned the shorter, hooded figure.
"And Ur'thak, you're with me after Carneth and his men let us in through the gates. There's going to be strong opposition, but these aren't trained soldiers. Harrow's guardians will not hold long. But heed me well, duergar, if you value your position you'll leave Harrow to me." He turned to his merc band.
"Everyone to their positions! Archers dismissed!" Jax and the rest of the marksmen began filing down to their respective roosts as Burz glared at the front gates to the palace courtyard.
"Don't be long, dwarf," he growled. "I've been waiting for this day for far too long."
Post by Devias Harrow on Jun 27, 2011 18:47:52 GMT -5
“We are agreed,” Harrow said. The words weighed heavily upon him as he grasped the larger man’s hand.
Before more could be said, a Jovian messenger hurried into the room. “My lord General, the orc Burz’s forces have breached the gates! There are monsters outside the palace!”
With a nod from Karth, a troop of men with heavy crossbows filed out to cover the doors to the palace. The weapons themselves looked like they could take down trolls, and the men looked just as powerful. Before Harrow retreated into his chambers, he heard an officer shout: “The man who kills that ugly greenskin gets double rations!” There was a cheer.
Carneth pulled himself out the tunnel and launched himself into the fray. His first opponent stabbed at him with a pitchfork, which Carneth swatted out of the way and subsequently buried his axe in the man’s chest. As expected, ten or so of Harrow’s flock had been stationed outside the palace. They were aggressive, but undisciplined. The dwarves took them two at a time with quick, methodical swings. It was short and bloody work.
When the dwarven force was reassembled—some twenty odd Brothers—he sent two off to open the gates for Burz’s force. As Carneth turned his back on them, his heart felt lighter then it had in a long while. It felt good, leading troops again. Hefting his axe, he strode to the heavy palace doors. He looked to his troops, their beards and faces flecked with blood, but each met his eyes steadily. They had been waiting for this day for a long time. They’re ready. Carneth took a deep breath, and nodded. The dwarves threw the doors open, ready to chop down any of Harrow’s fanatical flock they might encounter…
… And found themselves facing a double file of Jovian heavy crossbowmen.
Carneth took what felt like a giant’s haymaker and was flat on the ground. Dazed, he realized he couldn’t feel his right arm. Where did all those Jovians come from? He could see the too-still forms of his fellow dwarves strewn around him. How did this happen? As the world began to darken a thick green hand grabbed Carneth’s left arm and pulled him across its broad shoulders. His last conscious thought was that the flagstones were bathed in dwarven blood.
Legion of the Dragoons!
Dwarves are not, in terms of stature, very imposing. That is, unless you value your knees.
The Jovian looks over his shoulder, "Something is going on. I'm must go."
He looks to Anvil, "I hope we can both save this land from this insanity."
He shakes his hand and is led out the gate. He darts through the alleyways and runs into a couple of orcs separated from the group they were beating down a loan Jovian soldier.
"Cato? eh.." the soldier confused.
"More Jovian scum! Kill him!"
One orc swung his blade, Cato easily dodged grabbing the wrist and putting his elbow into the orc's nose. Blood sprayed and he dropped his orc weapon. The other swung for his back, by the time the blade fell the Jovian threw the injured orc into the blow.
"Craw! No! You make me kill my friend! RAHHH!" He swung wild. Cato backing up barely dodging the swings.
"Wish I had my sword..." Then suddenly the orc stopped swinging and collapsed. An arrow in the back.
Cato looked out, far in his keep Anvil nodded with a bow in his hand. "Impressive." Cato gave him a wave and headed onward to get out of the city.
The Defender compound was buzzing with activity as the forces prepared to repel any threat to what they had built here in the city. Men armed with large shields and short swords positioned themselves in front of the gate as archers swarmed the walls and a few fell in behind the shield wall. A group of archers and others positioned themselves in the city's wall tower they had claimed as their own. A large tarp was removed from a balista built there in secret. Anvil looked out over the city and watched Cato disappear.
"Sargeant, prepare a force on horseback to be ready to sweep into the city to rescue any non-coms who we see in trouble from here."
Anvil turns back to watch the carnnage below to see if he can make out a chance to send his forces out to quell the violence.
Post by ziglerrobertson on Jul 26, 2011 10:15:19 GMT -5
"Lo Wren, you folks leavin' to eh?" asks Zigler as he walks through sewing shop's door.
"Aye, the city is getting less hospitable for non-humans. I'll be taking my family out beyond the mountains in search of someplace safer." The elf looks through the window, as if searching for an answer.
"Well, the least I ken be doin' is givin' ye a lil hand along the way," replies Zigler as he reaches into his cloak and pulls out a small golden bag.
Before Wren can refuse politely both men turn towards the door as they hear shouting coming from up the street. They exit the shop only to see fleeing citizens, human and non-human alike running towards them from the direction of the House of Lords. Many of the humans are shouting about a Dwarven attack upon the building, while the rest are yelling about the return of Jovian soldiers.
Zigler looks once more at Wren before forcing the bag into the elf's hand and shoving him up into the wagon's seat alongside Ms. Stitch.
"Lad, I think ye best be goin'. Now, ere they close the gates on yea. Do not worry yerself, I'll be headin' fer Cedric's and ta the safety o' it's locks. Best be quick now!" shouts Zigler as he slaps the lone horse's rump and the wagon begins to move. Heading off in the same direction on foot Zigler see's the spying eyes of Wren's children peeking out between the slates of the wagons rear. As the elvish family rolls quickly down the street the dwarf smiles and waves goodbye to the children before turning off towards Cedrics.