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[Vortigern]

Blaise and Scarface made their way back to the camp, but were less than halfway there when a voice chimed in Blaise's head. We've been spotted, said Varashi across the aether. Rouse the troops.

"Time to run, Scarface," Blaise instructed. "We've got a fight on our hands." They both opted for a long-legged and deceptively fast lope back to the wagon circle. "Up and ready, soldiers!" shouted Blaise, sending a little spark of magic to the stuttering fire in the centre of the camp to make the flames flare up, crackling and roaring. "Ware pirates!"

Master Parrail was out at Blaise's side in moments. "What's afoot, Watcher?" he demanded.

"Pirates, beached just around the head. Coming this way, or so Varashi says." They really are. You have about two minutes before we're all swarming with sea-scum, she spoke up in his head. "Two minutes. If you'll excuse me, Master merchant," Blaise inclined his head in a peremptory bow before turning away to his more necessary duties. "Form up, men!" he bellowed, magic amplifying his voice to supernatural levels. "No archers, swords and halberds only." Vieran emerged, basically naked, from his wagon, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Did I hear someone mention pirates?" he asked nonchalantly. Blaise cocked an eyebrow at his state of undress but did not press the issue.

"You did. Time to earn our bread, deathknelf. Let's see some of that fabled swordsmanship in action, eh?"

[Copaman]

((This is my 2Kth post! w00t!))

Vieran scrambled back into the wagon - the few glimpses he caught of the caravan guard assembling let him know that the issue was urgent. He stepped over the sleeping girl to retrieve his weapons and armor, and then danced his way back out of the wagon as he put his equipment on in an interesting manner. Pleasantly, Liiara had managed to find his wagon right as he emerged again - she was fully geared and prepared.

She looked him up and down as he finished dressing himself, rolled her eyes, and said her few choice (teasing) words. "You're here to protect them. Not sleep with them. As I recall, sleeping on the job is frowned upon where we come from... let's go."

The two ran to catch up with Blaise, who was out in front leading the defenders - by Vieran's guess, they had only a few seconds before the pirates were upon them. Liiara took a few steps back from Vieran, and then began to sing her Ebrion weave in a soft and beautiful voice. Vieran watched in a rather neutral manner as a few quick, glowing layers of spell formed around him and then disappeared - they had practiced the pre-confrontation cycle hundreds of times before. What he found curious was the fact that the same glowing blue weaves of Ebrion fell on Blaise shortly thereafter: the pair didn't practice encounters after Liiara wove around two people - the extra bit of drain put on her body by using the extra magic meant that Vieran would have to work harder at dispatching enemies.

He unsheathed his weapons and brought himself down into a balanced stance, at once defensive and aggressive. Liiara followed suit, but took a slightly less aggressive stance - she would need to move quickly when combat broke out in order to join Vieran in a somewhat complicated tango of death, assuming he couldn't hold his own against pirates.

Edited by Copaman, 23 June 2010 - 01:44 AM.

[{IP}jimmyman]

Sholl charged directly to where he thought the front line was; by the one who called himself Blaise. He spotted the watcher talking to the Deathknelf Vieran, who dipped back into his wagon to get dressed, and ran up to him.

"Sir, how i help?"

****

Don crawled on his hands and knees through the brushes right outside the camp, thinking the pirates would come from that direction. As he stared forward, he came to a perfect spot, along the coastline with the boat in sight and behind a rock. He drew his axe-hammers silently, preferring to rely on his speedier weapons for the approaching enemies. As he sat there, he heard weapons draw and battle start somewhere behind him.

"Well bloody hell! The bastards managed to work there way around me."

He vaulted over the rock to run back to camp and was confronted with a group of four pirates.

"This is going to hurt in the morning..."

[Vortigern]

"Get in front of the wagons," Blaise ordered the Minotaur. "And hit anyone not wearing our colours." Blaise tugged absent-mindedly at the red and white kerchief tied tight around his arm, the little cloth he had insisted every soldier in the caravan wear to identify themselves, thankful as ever for that little nugget of wisdom he had picked up in Trivandor some years before. "Vieran!" he shouted, seeking out the deathknelf among the milling bodies and the panicked cries of the ordinary folks. "Get your painted arse over here!" Both deathknelve, Vieran and his partner Liiara, headed straight to his voice.

"Where would you have us, Blaise?" asked Liiara, easily the more thoughtful of the pair.

"At my back. We're taking the middle of the line." Liiara nodded as Vieran raised an eyebrow. "Right now," added Blaise, striding past them towards where the sound of pirate calls echoed across the night. He knew they wouldn't attack until they had assessed their enemy, and he hoped magic might put them off. "If you can get some of that fancy blue fire I've heard about, that wouldn't go amiss," he told them. Murmuring to himself as he strode through the mercenaries and their pitted but sharp swords, Blaise raised his arms high above his head. "Let there be light," he whispered. Bright bursts of white light poured forth from his hands, illuminating the immediate area. Instantly he saw groups of corsairs, hiding in the darkness and the shadows, suddenly finding themselves in plain sight.

"Surrender!" he bellowed at them.

"Piss off!" came the shout back. Blaise smiled wryly; he hadn't expected anything less. As his eyes adjusted to the new light levels, Blaise spotted more and more pirates. A rough head count gave him three for every two swords at his back. Best hope the deathknelve and that Minotaur are worth their fare. Drawing his sabre and holding it flat before him, Blaise roared defiance at the enemy. The pirates accepted his challenge, beginning the charge forward. Blaise brought his sword into the defensive position, waiting calmly.

The first of the corsairs to reach his line found himself swatted away like a fly by Sholl. The second met with Blaise's sword, parrying his opening thrust and attempting to roll along his sabre and slash at Blaise, but the Watcher was more than prepared for that, stepping in to meet the turn and gutting the man with his knife. He kicked him away and, with the briefest of thoughts, cast flames all along his sabre.

"How d'you like them apples?" he said, eyes shining in the unnatural light as he leapt forward to meet his next foe.

[{IP}jimmyman]

Don fell to his knees after a quick kick to the gut. His axe-hammer flew wide and fell out of reach. His other lay in the grass near.

"Sly, cowardly bastard i dare ye' to do that again!"

He heard Blaise's cry for attack and his illumination of the sky and noticed three more pirates in his way. He wasn't going to make it, even if one lay dead already. The pirate went to kick him again and Don grabbed the pirates leg, yanking hard to pull it out of socket. The man screamed and fell on his back, where Don smashed his gauntlet covered hand onto the mans knee, shattering the bone.

"So there's five of ye'," Don reached over to grab his left handed axe-hammer, "don't be mistaken, i'm weary. Ye' cheeky arses ave the upper hand."

***

Sholl swung his massive mace into a pirate, causing internal trauma he was sure and sending the man flying into two companions. He was looking for Don. The Dwarf had been gone too long and he was getting worried. He reversed his swing after hitting the man and brought it backwards to crack into another pirate's skull. The line seemed to shy away from him, so he took it in his advantage to back up a little and retreat to the way Don had gone.

[Copaman]

Liiara pulled back her hood and rolled up her sleeves quickly - while she did not enjoy manifesting her soulfyre outside of her body like Tom Joad did, the banding in her skin was always alive and aflame. Before Blaise illuminated the sky, she was there on her own, burning as a set of bands in the night.

Vieran, on the other hand, waited for confrontation to begin his display. As the pirates closed, he began his Ebrion song. With a few bounding, spinning steps, he closed the gap to the corsairs and left glowing blue words of ebrion magic in his wake. They hung on their own for a moment, before disintegrating back into the darkness.

The first corsair to get near Vieran didn't have time for any wise remarks. Vieran spun around quickly, catching the pirate's ankle with a blade. His foot removed from his body, the man screamed in pain for the moments before Vieran's spin brought him around again, the twin blades contacting the base of the man's neck. Vieran kicked the body away from him, standing intensely for a second so that the corsairs could see him before he began to pick them apart.

"So you got good old Grimbeard. The man had a limp and a lazy eye. Do you think you'll intimidate us with your singing and dancing?" came the challenge from one of the corsairs.

"No," came Vieran's reply. "I think I'll intimidate you with the fact that you've been killed by a woman." He smiled for a moment in the ethereal light, watching as Liiara's blade went spinning into the man's back. It erupted from his ribcage an instant later, and he gasped and flailed desperately at the wound. "See? I told you. I'll intimidate you with the fact that you've been killed by a woman. But you didn't listen." A flash of bright yellow flame erupted from the protruding sword, and slowly began to spread from the entry wound to engulf the body. Liiara, dagger drawn, came sprinting up from behind the corsairs Vieran was confronting. In a quick gymnastic movement, she dove forward, sprung off the ground with her hands, flipped, and withdrew her blade from the burning pirate's body. She landed comfortably near Vieran.

"You see," she said, "we're more than just pretty songs and dances. We're pretty songs and dances with very, very sharp weapons and very, very keen eyes. Now. What was his name? He seemed like a nice fellow. I would have liked to keep him around a little longer. He was too easy. Are you lot any better?" She provoked them as they drew nearer, no individual ready to make the first move.

But one did. The corsair lunged forward, only to be met by Liiara. She deflected his lunge, spun on her heel, and made solid contact with her elbow. As the poor man tried to shake off the daze on the ground, she was already in the air above him, swordpoint down for the kill. He rolled right, only to meet Vieran's foot. His ribs gave way, and he skidded off towards the other pirates. The corsairs began to close in on the deathknelve as a group now, hoping to find strength in numbers. In the middle of the circle of pirates, Vieran and Liiara danced with one another, deflecting and parrying and dealing blows to the pirates in a beautiful display of coordinated power and prowess.

[Vortigern]

In the centre of the line, Blaise's sword shone with unnatural fire as he cleanly severed the head of a corsair. That was the real advantage of flaming swords. Sure, it all looked very impressive, but the superheated edge and magical strength of the blade made it significantly easier to slice off limbs and body parts aplenty with a minimum of effort.

He was happy to see that the soldiers Parrail had enlisted all seemed to know what they were doing. Scarface was easily fending off a pirate's blade, his broken lip curling in contempt at the poor display of swordsmanship. After a few moments he ceased toying with the young corsair, sending a debilitating stroke through the man's sword-arm and kicking him back. Blaise saw him yell something after the man as he scurried away in fear and pain, but the words were lost in the mêlée.

The battle lasted mere minutes before the corsairs broke, seeing that this target was far too well-defended to be taken as easily as they had first hoped. In the magelight Blaise could see perhaps fifty or sixty bodies on the ground, some moving feebly, others lying graveyard still.

"Scarface!" Blaise shouted, calling the experienced soldier to him. "Count up the dead, despatch any pirates, bring any of ours inside the wagons. Be gentle."

"No mercy, Watcher," Scarface agreed, nodding. He gathered a few men whose names he knew about him and began the grisly task of clearing the field. Blaise grabbed the arm of a man next to him as he tried to turn away. "Find me Master Parrail, the two deathknelve and the drow girl, if she's back yet," he ordered. "I'll be in Master Parrail's caravan. Nobody leaves the line!" This last he shouted, stopping a few in their tracks as they sought to return to their beds. "Keep your eyes open!"

After a few minutes Blaise, Vieran, Liiara, Parrail and Varashi, who had just arrived back with the fresh news of the corsairs, were all gathered in Parrail's caravan.

"They're not gone," Varashi opened. "Nor looking to leave. If anything, they seem to be regrouping." Blaise nodded.

"That's what I expected. They outnumbered us to begin with. They lost more men than us this time round, but they still outnumber us." He paused for a moment, giving the impression of thought, but really his mind was already made up. "I suggest we take the fight to them. Attack while they're still sorting themselves out."

"Come down howling out of the hills like painted savages?" asked Vieran with a wry smile. Blaise answered with a nod.

"Any better ideas?" he enquired. "Or suggestions of any kind?"

[{IP}jimmyman]

Don chopped off the hand of one pirate and suffered another kick, this time to the face. He peered up through the haze and saw Sholl running towards his position swinging back his mace to smash a pirate in the chest. He looked up and smiled.

"Cheeky bastards...meet me friend..." and passed out from exhaustion.
****
Sholl lifted the last pirate by the throat and threw him to the side. He reached down after slinging his hammer and cradled the Dwarf in his arms and turned back towards camp. Upon reaching he saw Blaise speaking to the Deathknleves and the Drow about a plan and walked up.

"Donlokie need aid. Wounded against pirates. Outnumbered."

He set Don on the ground and awaited orders.

[Copaman]

"I say we send the minotaur directly into the fray. Blaise, take a group of fighters to one side of them, and have Varashi take another group to the other. While they're sorting out what to do with the bull wildly swinging a massive hammer, the two groups can come up from behind and cut their numbers.

What do you think?"

[Vortigern]

"That works for me," Blaise agreed. "You two," he carried on, indicating the deathknelven pair, "you go with Sholl and do everything you can to make sure you hold their attention. We move out in five minutes. Varashi, with me," he ordered, total commander once more. He drew Parrail aside for a moment before he left the tent, whispering a few instructions in his ear, then strode forth, Varashi at his side. The others followed along a few moments later.

"What did you say to Parrail?" Varashi asked as they headed over to where the soldiers had drawn up.

"I told him to arm every able-bodied man in the caravan in case we fail," said Blaise bluntly. Varashi nodded, accepting the wisdom of his counsel. They reached the troops. "Divide up into four groups!" Blaise shouted, instantly getting the attention of every man and woman there. It was the work of but a few seconds for the soldiers to sort themselves out, Blaise was pleased to note. Clearly the drills he had been running with them every day they'd been on the road had been worth it. "You two groups, you will take the centre with the deathknelve and the Minotaur," he ordered, encompassing Scarface's troop and the one next to it. "You have your commanders, you know what to do, you will make a good account of yourselves and you will await their command. It is vital that you do not ignore their orders." He turned to the other two groups. "You will be under my command," he instructed to the first, "and you will be under Varashi's," he told the last. "Varashi, you know the plan. Take it away." He beckoned to his troop and saw in the corner of his eye that Vieran and Liiara were drawing their two groups together, knotting them firmly into one unit.

"Move out!" Blaise bellowed at them. "Let's get this show on the road!" Vieran nodded, a ferocious grin lighting up his painted face. Not painted, thought Blaise, a moment later. That's his skin.

Within ten minutes everybody was in position around the corsair ships. Varashi had bespoken him, her whisper echoing through the aether to inform him of their position, and he had done the same for Liiara. The attack was ready.

The signal came in the form of a colossal roar of fury from Sholl, hammer swinging in wide arcs as he thundered into the midst of the corsairs, the deathknelven pair as close on his heels as their normal-sized legs would allow. Blaise raised a hand, knowing his men would see it and know it for what it was. He let the arm fall and his men swarmed forward, silent and deadly, not making a sound but for the swish of undergrowth and the muffled trampling of marram before they were within thirty yards of the pirates, who had been quick to regroup in the face of this terrifying threat. Then each and every man in his group, seemingly thinking in unison, let out a bellow as loud as they could manage, and charged straight into the midst of the enemy.

Blaise drew back, letting his men fight around him, and looked about for the ships. They sat some little distance out to sea, with rowing boats dotted along the shore. Blaise concentrated, drawing elemental fire to his hands, flames spiralling easily up his arms to coil across his shoulders and chest. He flung a hand out and flames cascaded forth, hurtling through the night into the rowing boats, leaping from vessel to vessel with alacrity. Blaise smiled grimly, and the flames retreated from his body to light up once again along his sword. Screaming bloody murder, Blaise charged into the fray.

[{IP}jimmyman]

Blood splatered on his skin as Sholl hammered another pirate to the dirt. He looked up to see fire lance out from behind him to encompass the ships in front of him. He reached back and grabbed his huge handaxe off his waist band and shortened his grip on his hammer and swung both in succession, killing one then two and three pirates. This battle was too one sided.

[Copaman]

Liiara and Vieran worked in unison despite the fact that they were separated by the hulking mass of Sholl. With mercurial fluidity the two danced around several square meters of ground, never straying too far from one particular point, but doing enough on each pass to ensure fatal or near-fatal strikes on those who wandered into their path. In a pinwheeling motion, Vieran threw himself from one side of his square towards the other, his arms seeming to flail through the air beside him - but whisperblades aim to never waste energy or motion. The entire dance, pinwheel and all, was a carefully calculated sequence of events. (This is why, he had thought to himself on several occasions, all but the keenest humans will always be subpar whisperblades. Their eyes can't track fast enough and they lack the inherent deathknelven focus. Elven and Drow whisperblades would make worthy opponents; humans make for target practice more often than not) Vieran allowed himself a moment in the air to recount how he had arrived at that given point:

He wasn't fast enough to the battle. Sholl had gotten the first three kills with a wild sweeping arc of his massive battle hammer; the humans' chests were caved in without so much as slowing the mass down. The first pirate he had gotten to raised his sword in defense; Vieran faked low with a quick lunge, and then sprung up in front of the man. He could have killed him on the way up, caught him beneath the jaw with his offhand sword. To keep clean for a bit longer, he waited until he was fully above the poor man and then plunged his strong hand sword down into the heart and windpipes, through the base of the neck. He dragged the body down with him and wrenched his sword free as he fell. He tracked the downward arc of a pirate's scimitar in the meantime.

When he hit the ground, Vieran rolled quickly to his right. The scimitar embedded itself in the body's skull, its wielder splashed in brains and general viscera. He was tracking Vieran: he didn't know what killed him. He never saw Sholl's second wild swing coming. In the same instant, Vieran began to come out of his roll at the ankle of another pirate. With his momentum helping, he lopped the man's feet off as he came out of a crouch and into a standing position. Cutting back across his momentum carried him, Vieran lacerated up from the man's hip to his opposite shoulder. On queue, his entrails fell out of his freshly opened stomach and he was left to die slowly, unable to walk away and staring helplessly at his own intestines.

Still moving right (but with an upper body trying to head left), Vieran kept his momentum aligned with a spin around his heels. He parried the next victim's slash, and caught his ribcage with the next pass of the spin. The pirate's leather armor gave way and his tunic began to stain with blood in the dark - the cut hadn't been deep, due to the armor, but it had broken the skin for certain. He staggered back a bit and brought his weapon to bear again; but the effort was too late. Vieran's off hand came around again and severed the man's hand. His main hand rose up as he slowed his spiral, and caught the man's throat. He collapsed gargling his own blood.

By now, however, the pirates had identified him as a significant threat. Vieran knew that Sholl's next pass with the hammer would clear out some of the enemies out in front of him, but it would do nothing for his back or side. And so came the pinwheel. With the elegant motion, he was able to catapult himself back towards where he started and somewhat clear his side as well. He nicked one foe's arm in the spin. The man who had been coming in to Vieran's blind spot was not as lucky. As he finished the pinwheel, Vieran whipped his blades around in his hand, drew them in towards the pit of his arm, and grabbed tight as his momentum plunged them in to the man's chest. While he missed the heart initially, the blades cut through the ribcage and caused massive puncture trauma to the lungs. Weezing for air, the man tried desperately to mount some kind of defense - but to no avail. Vieran quickly withdrew one of his blades and slid it across the man's carotid artery; he spun around to face the remaining enemy (and to avoid getting blood in his eyes. That would be bad.)

[Vortigern]

The fight was over relatively quickly. The brutal impact of Sholl, Vieran and Liiara, combined with Blaise and Varashi's magic and the number of plain old soldiers buoyed up by the presence of such powerful allies, meant that the corsairs folded with almost startling alacrity. They were all summarily executed, as was the expectation of any pirate caught by legal hands. Sholl watched the bloodshed with something resembling curiosity, while Vieran and Liiara looked on with slightly disdainful boredom. Varashi, though, turned away immediately and made her way back to the camp. Blaise followed her; he had no wish to watch more blood spilt tonight.

The next two weeks passed uneventfully as they headed on down the coastal road to Askaron. They spent three days in the city while Parrail and the merchants did their trading, meeting once again at the end of the days, every one of them with a satisfied smile from a visit well spent. Blaise briefly wondered what Liiara and Varashi had done in Askaron, and Sholl, but he had no need to ask Vieran what he had done; the smell of beer and stale smoke was all over him.

"So where next?" Blaise asked Parrail as they rode out of Askaron in the red morning light.

"Tashhad, Melidat, then we'll take ship down to Aiyris. From there down to Sherat and Ateni if we have any wares left."

"Over water?" Blaise was surprised. "That seems an unnecessary expense."

"Three days over land from Melidat to Aiyris, and the roads are in poor repair. Half a day on a ship and we save plenty in breakages and injured horses. Believe me, it's worth the extra coin." Blaise nodded and they fell silent again.

"You'll need to be vigilant, Blaise," said Parrail after a while. "There have been bandits operating around here for years, and rumour has it that plenty of melds have joined them since they all spread out everywhere."

"I'll keep our path scried out, don't worry," Blaise reassured him. "In fact, shall we take a look now?" Parrail's brow furrowed in curiosity; clearly he had not seen a scrying before, simple magic though it was. Blaise withdrew a polished bronze disc from his saddlebag and held it up before him. He snapped his fingers and a flame materialised, shimmering around his fingernail. The light spread across the bronze, suffusing it with a brilliant glow. An image coalesced in the disc, and rapidly zoomed in. Parrail gasped as he recognised himself on his horse, seen from an angle he could not have imagined. He raised a hand experimentally, and laughed as the tiny image in the disc did exactly the same. Blaise smiled too; working magic always cheered him up, feeling the flow of nature pouring through him, knowing he could channel tiny little sections off for his own use. The image sped forward along the road, following every twist and turn of the paving, sometimes at gut-wrenching speeds.

Suddenly the image stopped and fell away from the road, focusing instead on a large stand of woodland which rose up some hundred yards from the roadside. Through the woods the image sped, twisting and turning around trees or sometimes through them, heeding the laws of physics only when Blaise remembered them, until it stopped again, viewing a campsite around which sat perhaps twenty men, most of whom seemed to be in possession of pitted blades and rusting breastplates: bandits, to be sure.

"We can probably avoid them," murmured Blaise. "That would be easiest." He snapped his fingers again and the image faded away. He replaced the disc in his bag and looked at Parrail. "A very useful talent, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, absolutely. Keep checking ahead of us and tell me if there's anything else. I'm going to check on the rest of the caravan." Blaise nodded and Parrail departed, leaving the Watcher alone with his thoughts once more, pondering where his companions had got to over the past few days and what twists the paths of fate might hold for them in the next round.

[{IP}jimmyman]

"Sholl! Ye' blasted bovine on two legs, ye' two horned, humongous bull man! Where's my ale?" Don was angry. He'd been out a good day and a half and woke up to yet another city. But that wasn't the worst part, no it was actually relatively better than the huge black eye that covered the left side of his face, or the four broken ribs he'd received from one of the pirates. And when he finally finds a good tavern, and stocked up on enough ale and beer. Now as they were strolling along side the caravan and Don had easily had his seventh tankard of ale, Sholl had taken it away from him.

Sholl stood in front of the angry midget, left hand to Don's head keeping the flailing Dwarf away from his chest. In his right hand was the tankard of ale Don had been sipping as they approached the middle of the procession. He smiled at the futility of his friend trying to get the drink.

"Bastard cow...take the ale. Ye' forgettin' i saved yer hide from bein' killed. By MY axe!"

"You need no more drink. Drink make you act bad."

"Whatever me friend...ah well. I long for more battle. Ye' know that?" Sholl looked at Don as he shuffled along next to the Minotaur muttering. "It made me feel alive, like I've never felt before. I suppose I've never had a proper scuffle like that before. Made me rethink my brashness at charging so blindly to a foe."

"Think with head small one," Sholl said smiling, pointing dumbly towards his shaggy head, "not with axe. Almost die. I save you in time."

"I know buddy, and i thank ye' for it. Let's see if anyone needs us fer anything my friend."

[Copaman]

Vieran and Liiara sat mounted atop their horses together, trotting along as fast as the caravan would allow. "You looked a little rusty against those pirates, Vee," teased Liiara.

"About as rusty as my sword. Although I will admit I was a little sloppy. We could afford to be sloppy and I thought it would be better to not wake up in the morning too fatigued."

"Mmhm. Right. And I'm expected to believe that?"

"You know it's true. Plus, I think you were a little too far away doing that whole casting thing to really see what was going on in my neck of the woods."

"I don't have to see. I'm in your head."

"And I'm in yours. Why else would we work so well together?"

"I dunno, years of training as a team? That might have something to do with it."

"You've got a point. Any ideas when we're supposed to head back home? Or are we just on an endless adventure?"

"I'd say endless adventure. We were instructed to hone our skills on real world enemies. So I think when we've honed them enough -and that involves finding worthy adversaries first- we can go back and see what Tom says."

"Fair. Although you know His Highness prefers that we use his formal title in public."

"How many of these people will go to Shadowfang in their lifetimes, save Blaise? I'm curious to know what you think."

"Not very many. And even fewer would get His ear. So you have a point."

"I thought so. So... next time we're up against a big group of people, how about some friendly competition?"

"Most kills, most ruthless kill, fastest kill, or highest kill density per time?"

"Well. Seeing as how I could easily get fastest kill... The other three?"

"Sounds good to me."

[Vortigern]

The road to Tashhad was clear, in the end, as was the road from Tashhad to Melidat. Vieran complained a little that he had fancied taking on a few melds, having been in the wrong place to face them during the Battle of the Maughold, but Blaise and Parrail were far happier to avoid the creatures as best they could.

Parrail and Blaise were walking around the port in Melidat, surveying the ships on offer. Parrail had informed Blaise that, given the size of their caravan, or at least the part of it that was continuing down to Aiyris, they would need three galleys, and likely a fourth on the payroll to defend such a pleasing target for pirates.

"I don't think that'll be necessary," argued Blaise. "Varashi and I can keep our eyes open, and you saw Sholl fighting against those pirates. He could take on a whole ship on his own, I'd wager." Parrail chuckled.

"Clearly you've never taken a Minotaur on a boat before," he said. Blaise frowned curiously. "They get seasick like you wouldn't believe, and you've not seen disgusting until you've seen a two-ton man-bull regurgitate most of a pig." Blaise grinned. He and Parrail had developed a steady, friendly relationship over the month or so it had taken them to get this far.

"We'll do it your way, then," Blaise acquiesced. "You're the man with the money, after all."

"Damn right I am," agreed Parrail heartily, jingling the pouch of gold coins on his belt.

Finding ships to take them to Aiyris proved much easier than Blaise had anticipated, with the captains apparently desperate for business.

"The fighting's been bad this year, especially between Sherat and Ateni," said one of the sailors. "Folks been avoiding heading south in case one side or other turns to privateering." Parrail nodded gravely, but Blaise was nonplussed.

"That's the nice name for piracy done by a government," explained Parrail. "It only started seven or eight years ago, but the idea caught on pretty fast."

"Are we sure Aiyris is where we need to be?" asked Blaise, concerned as much for his payment as for his companions and their wellbeing. "Couldn't we head back west towards Sorgrad or Messalia?"

"That's not where the money is," replied Parrail, his face etched with worry. "We'll head to Aiyris regardless, and if someone wants our money, they'll have a hell of a fight to get it." In what felt like no time at all, Parrail had got himself a fine deal for three transport galleys and a warship to accompany them. "We'll set sail tomorrow morning, assuming everyone's packed up and ready. Another early start."

[Copaman]

Vieran rolled himself off of the woman in his bed - it was the proverbial asscrack of dawn and his ship was leaving soon. Very soon. Too soon. He hopped off the bed and began to assemble his gear and clothing again.

The girl rolled over and looked him square in the eyes before he could turn around. She propped herself up on her elbows, making damn sure to squeeze her breasts together so that the combination of cleavage and nipples would be almost too much to resist. She let out a slight moan and followed with "where are you going? I've heard that the deathknelve can go for two or even three rounds before they're tired again."

"You should know better after last night. I don't know if you'd be able to walk today if I came back over there. I can't miss my boat anyhow. My pay's on that boat."

"Pay shmay when's the next time you'll have a girl with my body naked in your bed?"

... Next time I'm in port. You're fit and I'd really love to go two or three more rounds with you but you aren't worth all that pay that's waiting for me. He found that keeping his most secret thoughts to himself helped a little, and so followed with a more appropriate answer.

"You have a point, but I can't live without that money. I'm sorry but I really do have to go. I'll be back in a few weeks and I'm sure I'll see you again."

By the time I get back, she'll have had five to seven children, half of which will be dead. She'll probably have venereal diseases too; I'm lucky I pulled her this young. Mortals. They're overrated. I like elves and stripers better anyway; they tend to shave more and they keep themselves clean. And they're immortal. And in better shape. Generally better.

"But you can't! Don't leave me! You were my first! You can't leave!"

"I have to. I really am sorry. I'll be back. I promise you I'll be back."

Because I've kept every promise I've ever made to a woman. Gods I'm a horrible person. I don't know how Tom did it.

He finished putting his clothes and gear and began walking out of the room. As he left, he could hear her getting hysterical. He couldn't even remember her name. Just another girl in his mind.

===


WIP, have to write Liiara's part.

[{IP}jimmyman]

"Oi. Shit, why do it have to be ships. God damned water. I need earth beneath my feet," Don mumbled as he strode a few paces in front of Sholl.

"What ship Don," Sholl chimed in, apparently hearing the irate Dwarf.

"A terrible invention by the men, claiming it would be instru...instrumenial? No, instrument....al, instrumental aye, in gaining new land."

"I don't understand."

"It be a floating deathtrap made of wood, fragile as all hell, and easily splintered."

"So we go die in big blue?"

"Hopefully not me friend."

Don and Sholl had stayed up late drinking and talking about the coming trip, and it would be a lie if the Dwarf had said he was sober. He was still tipsy as a dog with one leg, whatever that meant. Words could not express the killer headache he had.
Sholl on the other hand was relatively sober, his large form able to handle a tankard or two. He wearily eyed the huge vessel before him, he didn't like the idea he would be far away from land for an extended period of time.

"Ye big lug, get yer arse over here and get on board with me."

He took a few tentative steps up the bridge from the dock and finally reached the top and boarded the ship. He threw up on Don's back a few moments later.

[Vortigern]

Parrail and his caravan had departed Mirmida as soon as Aft-Spring brought around a new year of fighting. Blaise and his motley band of warriors had taken up with the Aiyrene militias, aided as they were by two centuries of the new breed of Paladins, men sent from Ateni, Aiyris's long-standing ally. Most of the time had been spent manning the Bremilayne Wall, the line of forts running from coast to coast, effectively sealing Aiyris off from invasion, but on a few occasions now they had been forced to fight open battles against foes from Sorgrad and Davish. Thus far no conclusive engagement had been fought, but Vieran assured Blaise it would be sooner or later. Apparently every year saw at least one city lose vast tracts of territory to an opponent or two. Blaise had suggested that this year it seemed to be Ateni's turn to fall, but Vieran shook his head at that. He suspected there was far more to the battles in the south than met the eye. Some refugees fleeing north from the carnage had spread word of an invincible warrior bearing a flaming sword, but whether this was exaggeration or simple delusion Blaise had not yet decided.

"It might be true, you know," Vieran wondered as they stood another watch on the Wall. "I've seen you shooting fire up and down your sword before."

"But never for long, and I have no idea how to go about making myself invincible," he replied. "Chances are it's just a particularly skilful soldier with a well-polished sword."

"Maybe it's a mage."

"If it were a mage powerful enough to render himself invincible, he would be doing far worse than wielding a sword," Blaise pointed out. Vieran shrugged.

"Maybe it's a mage who likes to get his hands dirty."

"And how many of those have you met?" commented Blaise with a wry chuckle. Vieran conceded the point. For a moment silence reigned across the empty night, but for the crackle of the brazier and the low rumble of Sholl's snoring from the stable some thirty yards away. Up close that Bull must sound like a thunderstorm.

"I wonder how Don ever manages to get any sleep listening to that," said Vieran, echoing Blaise's thoughts. The Watcher was about to speak when something caught his eye. A moment later Vieran saw it too. "It's too far away to make anything out," said the deathknelf, squinting into the darkness. Blaise slid a bronze disc from a leather case at his belt, brightly polished and perfectly smooth. With a snap of his fingers a light flared up within the disc and, moments later, they saw what was to be seen.

"Those look like Davish men to me," commented Vieran. Blaise nodded.

"Sound the alarm," he instructed, his attention still fixed on the scrying glass. The image panned upwards and out, swinging across the vista to discover what else lurked in the shadows. The low ringing of the alarm bell did nothing to distract Blaise from his magic. A first estimate suggested as many as two legions of men sporting the green and silver of Davish. Suddenly his breath froze in his throat. In the disc lay an image of as many soldiers again, but these wore the yellow and black of Sorgrad. Blaise leapt into action, sprinting headlong to the watchtower.

"Light the beacon!" he shouted. "All men to arms! Wake up the whole damn state if you have to!" he bellowed at the man Vieran had left ringing the bell. The deathknelf returned to the wall, his sister-in-arms Liiara in tow.

"How many?" she enquired sleepily.

"Four legions, there or thereabouts." That woke her up.

"Feruilen save us," she muttered.

"Wake up everyone you see," Blaise ordered. "And find Varashi. Tell her to talk to me." Liiara nodded and departed. Davish and Sorgrad must have emptied their entire garrisons for this attack, he mused. They must be damn sure of succeeding. He briefly wondered if an attack of this size had ever been launched against Aiyris before; he suspected not. From what little he knew of Mirmidan history, the last time two cities had properly ganged up on a third, Derilash had been razed to the ground, the bodies of its people strung up along the road for miles in all directions. Best not let that happen here.

[Copaman]

Gods help us, thought Vieran. Where's Joad and his army when you need him? Four to one odds in an all human battle are really quite terrible. I'd take four humans to a deathknelve though... Anyway. Right. Focus. Defenses. We have a big wall and some fortresses but that's about it. It didn't seem like they had any real siege equipment, so if we can get the other fortresses to hold their gates for even a decent while, we can force the enemy through one or two gates and slaughter them all with relatively little effort.

He felt Liiara enter his head to add her two cents. Their bond bordered on true telepathy, but fell just short. In times of stress they could feel the other's thoughts; with practice, they were able to use this as a means of communication - one of their secrets to success on the battlefield.

We're facing four legions of men. We have miles of wall to protect. Forts will fall regardless. It's a matter of controlling when each one's gates are breeched. By controlling that, squads of archers on horseback would be able to ride from gate to gate: grab plenty of arrows on the way, arrive, shoot said arrows at about chest or throat height as soon as the gates are breeched. The bodies would still be in the gate-tunnels, so until those get cleared, the attackers are slowed down. Even if the arrows are a little late, the attackers have to climb over the bodies of their comrades upon leaving the tunnel, creating time for the defenders to hack them limb from limb.

Vieran nodded, useless as it was with Liiara far out of viewing distance, and pondered on Liiara's thoughts.

You're right, he thought back. But I believe the answer lies somewhere in between. Perhaps by leaving the front door open, we can encourage the attackers to try and exploit that. Clog the entrance with dead bodies, hack and slash those that make it through, light some kind of a beacon when the enemy figures out the strategy, and move to the next gate. Rinse and repeat. This will be fun.

If we survive.

I hope we do. This invincible-with-a-flaming-sword guy sounds interesting. I haven't seen any of those since our last sparring match with Tom.

And Tom has two swords.

So we'll be fine right?

I don't think this is the same kind of thing.

Me neither. Nothing wrong with trying to lighten the mood a little, though. It's all about atmosphere, y'know?

Since when do you bother with the atmosphere when you're with me?

Meh, not sure. It surprised me too, don't worry. Might be nice to grab a nice supper with you one night when this is all over...?

I cannot even believe you just asked me that. Now is not the time, and I wouldn't know what to say regardless. Focus, Vee. Defense. If you even want the slimmest chance at that nice supper with me, we have to survive, and in order for that to happen you have to focus.

Right, focus. Defense. Survival. Focus. Clear my mind.

He was now running along the wall at break-neck speed towards the other fortresses in hopes of being able to wake their defenders up. He quickly was made to realize his mistake: as he ran in one direction, an exceptionally attractive female soldier ran in the other. He ran back to her, asked some feeble question along the lines of "which fortresses have been awoken?", stole a glance at her rack, and then ran off in the direction he had been going. Liiara's thoughts descended upon him almost instantly.

Vee. That isn't clearing your mind nor is it focusing on defense or survival. If you ever ask me to supper again and then pull one of those, I'll make damn sure that you're focused on your defense and most likely your survival too.

I guess that means no nice supper this time?

Not here, no. DEFENSE. NOW.

Right. Defense. Sorry.

I know you can't help it. Meet me back where you left me; Blaise is summoning us. And Gods save you if you do that again before we make it back there.

Edited by Copaman, 27 November 2010 - 04:03 PM.