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Post by Sir Storm Brightblade on Sept 7, 2018 12:51:25 GMT -5
It has been 5 years since the Cult of the Dark Father attempted the assassination of Storm Brightblade, Warlord of Mittelmarch. Being found by Sir Rune, his knight, he was made Warlord before Storm passed into unconsciousness. Since he was taken to Rivendell for healing and rehabilitation, the Cult hasn't been seen since. Mittelmarch has experienced an uneasy peace with their disappearance and things have grown quiet. The people of the city have prospered under the guidance of Sir Rune and alliances have grown with the neighboring realms. As Winter is returning, so do old friends and potential enemies.
It was a cold night on the eastern border of the Land between the Lands. The rains had been heavy, with passing of Summer and the beginning of Autumn, and caused the mists to be especially thick. Out of them came about 100 armored men on horses, each bearing a lance and shield with swords on their hips. The man at the front called for a halt and gazed around alertly, taking in the surrounding forest. Under his helmet he smiled to himself, recognizing these woods from the first time he was plucked from his land and brought here through the mists. Seeing the road not far off course from their location, he motioned for his troops forward and followed it heading west.
The rider at the front of the host rode a few steps forward. Wearing a mix of plate armor, chainmail, and scales running to above his feet. His breastplate was marked with an upturned sword, which at its tip was a twin tailed comet. At his side was a round shield colored red with a horse emblazoned on it, a silver bar offset to the left running the height. He wore an ornate sword at his hip in the shape of a dragon head with the mouth jutting forth the blade. He held a lance made of glittering silver with a wickedly barbed head and a massive two handed hammer strapped to the side of the saddle.
"Captain," his standard bearer called from behind, "Are you sure we're going the right way? It's been 6 years since you've been here."
The captain laughed, "I know these woods like the back of my hand. By the end of the day we will be within sight of my city. Lets set a faster pace Wargar!"
The captain set off at a canter with his soldiers following behind starting up a marching tune.
"Oh Hail, Oh Hail the Infantry Queen of Battle, Follow Me Cuz nothing in this world is free So Infantry is what I'll be Up in the morning, out of my rack Greeted by an orcish attack Captain rushes me off to chow I don't eat it anyhow Assault, support are all in place The enemy unaware of his fate Ballistas blast and soldiers' roar Again, the Blood and Iron scores Hit the ground with Wargar pride A javelin through a Roman's eye He ought to be damn glad he died He'd hate for me to take him alive Now it's true that someday I'll be dead But before I go I'll take more heads When the enemy sees us they will flee Cause we're the WARGAR Infantry!"
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Post by attikah on Sept 7, 2018 18:57:43 GMT -5
The trip was long. It was harder on her than she imagined it would be. Not the trip itself, but the cold. The wind sliced through her like she wasn’t really there. Her body gave an involuntary shiver every so often, and she would pull the thin cloak tighter around herself trying to tuck her limbs in the best she could.
Her tunic was crafted from a warm material, but that didn’t seem to help save her from the onslaught of the cold winds. Each breeze forced the hood off her head and knotted her already crazy curls that much more. She looked forward to a warm fire, and a warmer bed. She wasn’t looking forward to getting the knots out of her hair, or how much hair she might have to break in the process.
While the majority of the army chose to ride upon horses, her mount was much smaller. The warg-sized feline had been in her care since birth. Nika had been the runt of a litter, and would have likely died without the extra care and attention she had given the beast. Her owners were set upon killing the creature, but she begged and pleaded until Zebruh gave in. Of course she had to find a way to care for Nika on her own. It meant she had to find a way to make money outside of her daily duties, or share her personal rations. It worked out in the end.
Nika was a beautiful creature. Bright chartreuse eyes almost seemed to glow they were such a bright color. Pitch black fur appeared to shine in the slightest light, and most of the time was soft to the touch. Given that they were in between seasons it had a coarse feel to it as it began to grow thicker in places.
She had been so far off in her own little world, admiring foliage mostly and lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized that they had stopped. Nika stopped when the horse in front of her had stopped and it snapped her attention forward. Of course there was nothing like staring straight at a horses ass.
She leaned outward so that she could see a little bit around the giant creature in front of her. Storm’s voice carried easily enough, but behind the large creature it was muffled. The fog was so thick that she couldn’t have seen Storm even if there weren’t any obstacles.
She leaned forward laying the front of her body down along the length of Nika’s back while scratching the side of her face just beneath the jawbone and ruffling the fur along that side of her neck. “Soon. We’ll be there soon.” Not soon enough in her book. It wasn’t the travel, or even her traveling companions that she minded.
Once the marching tune was being sang she smiled and leaned back down so that she was almost fully resting on Nika’s back. She wrapped her arms around the creatures neck for a moment. Even on a cold night the sing along of a hundred warriors was enough to bring a warmth to her heart that spread throughout her body.
She sat up once more upon the feline and hummed softly to the tune under her breath. She didn’t know the words fully, and even if she did she wouldn’t likely sing them loud enough for the others to hear her do so. They were on the move again, quicker this time. Onward to Mittlemarch!
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Post by stretchthegoblin on Sept 7, 2018 19:58:35 GMT -5
The forest was dark, tendrils of lead gray fog weaving between gnarled roots and crowded underbrush. The woods were unusually silent, beast and bird stilled by the din of clanking steel and chorusing men. The singing men were very loud, otherwise they might have heard him. The goblin last named Stretch skittered, seeming to be a perverse cross between a spider and an ape, in the wake of the marching column. Goblin names are not terribly creative: had he straightened vertically he would be easily twice the hight of another goblin. His limbs were rubbery and distorted, misaligned joints jerking and slithering through the brush. The song the men sang was good: they sang of killing orcs, of stabbing Row-mans in their eyes, of fire and blood and steel. Their armor and trinkets were shiny, good for stealing and biting. The goblin skittered in the company's wake, eager to see what mischief he could create. This was going to be so much fun.
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Post by Sir Storm Brightblade on Sept 8, 2018 22:52:44 GMT -5
The captain reigned in his horse as he saw the mass come into view and the company all came to a halt. The forward horses tilted their lances while the second and third rank fanned out to assume the same position, ready to strike if it attacked.
The captain held up his hand for the men to halt their advance on the creature. He seemed perplexed by it for it seemed like a goblin, but with elongated features to make it the size of a man. He had seen many a thing in all of his years living in the Land Between the Lands, and he had lived in the Lands for a very long time.
"Hold creature, what causes you to halt our passing through this country? I have very important business with Mittelmarch and don't wish to tarried from it."
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Post by attikah on Sept 9, 2018 21:46:48 GMT -5
Nika kept giving soft, but low growls. It wasn’t so worrisome that it would cause the horses to panic. Things came to a halt and the feline slowly lowered her body. The pitch colored fur brushed against the ground as the feline remained crouched for a moment. She slowly crept out of formation just a little. Each move the feline made was one of caution.
The feline’s giant paws kneaded into the ground a couple of times before she took another step forward. It didn’t take long before the feline was even with the horse that had been in front of her during the march.
Tiana brought her bow around while sliding it off of her arm. She carefully grabbed an arrow before knocking it. The arrow head held downward, and away from both Nika, and herself. She leaned forward just a little before whispering. “Easy… It’s not like we’re invisible you know.”
She wasn’t fully certain what had set Nika off yet to begin with. The fog caused problems of it’s own. She found herself staring at the person, or animal that Storm appeared to be addressing. It couldn’t be an animal. Animals don’t understand. Not like that. It had to be a person.
What kind of person? She couldn’t quite figure it out. The thick fog caused issues with her vision. She could barely make out the person’s outline from where she rested upon Nika’s back. The bow and arrow was more for show than anything else. She knew there was no way in hell she’d be able to hit her target from here. If this person made themselves a target that is.
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kyrnn
New Member
Pillage and Burn, its super duper
Posts: 38
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Post by kyrnn on Sept 11, 2018 11:06:57 GMT -5
Off to the east, a hooded man crouched in a bush, looking out with stern eyes. He was dressed in soft greens and browns. The young buck that he'd tracked to this glen grazed idly, unaware of the hunter eyes upon it.
Grasped in his bow hand was a yew long bow, worn with use, with a second arrow at the ready. The first, already nocked, was drawn smoothly back as the man steadied his breath. He took aim, careful to line up a clean shot as he watched the still grazing buck.
It's head snapped up suddenly, ears swiveling on its head as it looked for a sound. Chiding himself internally, the hunter froze, hoping his shot wouldn't be spoiled. The buck settled its gaze away from him, attention focused on something in the distance. Never one to pass up a good opportunity, the hunter loosed his arrow into the distracted buck.
It let out a bleat as it was struck in flank, and took four leaping steps before collapsing. The man, already in pursuit as the arrow struck true, reached the animal in no time, and quickly put it out of its misery with the seax knife on his belt. With a prayer of thanks to the God of the hunt for his good fortune, he hoisted the now expired animal onto his shoulders and began to walk to the west, towards the sounds. He was a curious man as well.
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Post by stretchthegoblin on Sept 12, 2018 21:06:21 GMT -5
"Hold creature, what causes you to halt our passing through this country? I have very important business with Mittelmarch and don't wish to tarried from it." He grinned with a mouth like a poorly kept armory. "Starting fires, looting corpses, eating horses." He shrugged his distended shoulders in what one could only pray was a friendly gesture. "The fundamentals." He glanced to his left. He could see a worg-except-it-was-a-cat. He couldn't see the rider in the mist, but riding something like that it must be an elf. "Bagront sha pushdug!" The only thing less sightly than a goblin smiling, is a goblin sneering.
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Post by Sir Storm Brightblade on Sept 20, 2018 18:47:28 GMT -5
The captain clocked an eyebrow at the goblin. He thought it sounded fairly intelligent for one who looked so feral.
"Well why is it that you stop my progress? I have business in Mittelmarch as I've stated and wish to proceed. If you require esscort I gladly give it, but if this is an ambush then be warned by the Twin Tailed Comet I will smite you."
He readjusted in the saddle, allowing him to easily tilt his spear if provoked.
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Post by Sir Nichtmar on Sept 21, 2018 10:33:54 GMT -5
An ogre, looking somewhat out of place with coveralls and straw hat, is out harvesting hops in his field. It's a small plantation nestled in the forest about a days ride northeast of Mittelmarch. His grey pointed ears perk to a familiar tune, but not usually heard around here.
He calls out to Aryadne his wife, "Honey, I'll be back. Gotta check somethin!"
She waves him on. He hops on his horse that's always got an old ogre club stashed on it and whistles for Stone, his white Shepard.
They dash through the forest. Both excited to have something to break the norm. After a bit of riding they come to a clearing to see a column of Grey and Crimson soldiers. Immediately he recognizes Storm at the head and rides over and dismounts giving Storm the warriors handshake and pulls in for a hug.
"Brother! Welcome home!"
"Umm, what's with the garrison?"
He shoots the Goblin an ogre-ish grin of 'relax my friend'.
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Post by attikah on Sept 25, 2018 20:33:39 GMT -5
She lowered her aim completely after a few long moments passed. The strain on her muscles holding the bow, and arrow with the string taut was just to much to handle. The burning had turned to a full on cramp in a matter of moments. She put her arrow away, and put the bow back into place so that it was angled across her back with the top end resting behind, and to the right of her head while the bottom was angled out away from her body to the left.
She didn’t really see much danger. Not enough danger that the large patrol couldn’t handle without her anyway. She heard yet another voice ahead of them and dismounted the large beast. She patted the side of the felines jaw and gave a gentle scratching at her ear before moving forward away from her mount.
There was the soft sound of her footfalls as she approached the gathering group towards the front of their lines. She was mildly impatient. It had been to long since she had seen the southern Orc village where she had been raised by Tetsubo’s mother.
“Is all well, Captain?” Her words directed at Storm. She reached up with a gloved hand and pushed the hood back away from her visage. Her skin seemed pale in the moonlight except for the bright red at the tip of her nose, and her cheeks. Dark brown tresses seemed to be mostly a frizzy mess, matted, and dirty except for two nearly perfect spiral curls that fell from just above each temple. The crazy unkempt mass almost hid the collar around her neck. The silver toned lock gleaming in the moonlight would be harder to hide. Blue eyes slowly sized up the tall green creature again, before her attention was turned to the other stranger.
She barely stood over five feet tall, but was a hearty woman. It would be immediately obvious that she wasn’t one for skipping meals. She was as human as a human could get. Her mannerisms often mimicked those of an Orc den mother. She only had Zebruh to credit.
The warg-sized feline pressed her head against the ear scratches so much that her whole body moved once her rider moved away. She made a soft mewling noise before shifting her head one way then the other almost like a dog hearing something interesting.
The beast raised her snout to the air and her nostrils flaired as she sniffed it. The beasts stomach growled, then she followed it with a softer growl of her own. She padded back and forth while sniffing at the air again. Those chartreuse eyes followed her rider for a few moments before the beast bolted in the opposite direction.
There was movement near the group. More movement. She crouched low to the ground so that her belly hairs rubbed against the worn path before her nostrils flaired again while she sniffed.
She tilted her head, and the beasts stomach growled again. She let out a soft growl before a gentle mew sound. She moved off the path just a bit before changing direction again. She stopped and sniffed at the air again. The breeze carried the scent of a fresh kill. It was very close, and she followed the scent.
Once she found the figure that the scent belonged to the beast moved back to the path. She settled her hind quarter down and those chartreuse eyes followed his movements.
The beast slowly stood as he grew closer. This was clearly a herded animal of sorts. She was about half the size of a horse, and thick black fur shined with blue undertones in the moonlight. There was a saddle upon her back that seemed to be made of a bunch of leather scraps stitched together. There was a jug of liquid bound to some make-shift harnesses on either back flank.
The closer the man with the kill got she began to shift her weight excitedly. It was almost like a dance. The feline-dance would soon turn more into a prancing of sorts. It was almost like she was begging for a scrap of meat. Mew!
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kyrnn
New Member
Pillage and Burn, its super duper
Posts: 38
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Post by kyrnn on Sept 26, 2018 10:27:33 GMT -5
The large Norse man moved through the forest seemingly with ease, as though unimpeded by the mists or gloom of the evening. In truth, he was walking mostly blind, relying on his ears, the occasional glint of moonlight and his familiarity with the woods to get him through. He hadn't intended to be out too long after dark, but the hunt had ran long and his curiosity over the distant noises had kept him here. The forest teamed with life, the various noises of the insects and nocturnal creatures a veritable cacophony to someone trying to scout mostly with his ears. If my wife was here, he thought to himself, her ears would have no trouble. His human ears were no match for her elfin ones, but that's what he got for marrying an alfar.
He focused his hearing forward, listening intently for the source of the disturbance. His long strides had carried him far, and soon he heard voices in the darkness, though he couldn't make it what they were saying. The deer was slung across his shoulders, his right hand grasping its legs, while his left still carried the long bow and an arrow. He was lightly armed, far less than usual. Though he was a footman of Mittelmarch, he was also a mercenary, so he maintained his own arms and armor. A sword hung from the saddle of his horse, but it was a mile away at least. Until he scouted out the source, he dared not whistle for it.
As he neared the voices, he could just start to make out humanoids, some mounted, and some on foot. It looked to be a column of soldiers, but he knew it couldn't belong to Mittelmarch. No patrols were scheduled to be out this way at this time, and not many forces marched after dark with good intentions. The Norseman softened his footsteps, moving ever closer to the soldiers. If a force marched on his home, he'd get as much info as he could before heading back.
He was suddenly, painfully aware that the forest around him had gone silent. He froze, sharpening his senses, looking for the cause. He wasn't alone out here in the brush...
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