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ForKhorne Member

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    1. ForKhorne 9 yrs ago

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In The Darkness Descends (Fantasy Conquest RP) → 8 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
Mylori tightened the last strap on his ceremonial armour and winced slightly as the metal pressed against his shoulder. He reached for his ornate helmet but stopped himself, deciding to forgo it as a sign of respect. The two nations had fought side by side now, they had spilled blood for each other and for Mylori there was no stronger bond.

As he passed by a looking glass, he paused as he glimpsed the scar that still stretched across his face. The wound itself had all but healed, the raw and bloody handprint fading into a distinctive charred scar. He still cursed that priest that had managed to get past his guard and mark him for life. He wonder for a moment whether this mark was a curse, and whether it was anything compared to the sin of working alongside Necromancy.

He didn’t worship any gods, he didn’t know if there was an afterlife, he didn’t know whether he would be condemned to eternal damnation. All the Forgelord Mylori Firehammer knew was that he didn’t want to find out anytime soon.



Tavirin allowed himself a smile as the reinforcements sent from the West continued to arrive along the shining rail tracks that snaked from the centre of the Broken Empire.

His army had been worn down after the relentless battles, but now fresh soldiers bolstered his force, and they brought with them grand tales from the west. Tavirin heard of Limgar’s defeat beneath the combined army of New Engelica and the Broken Empire. He was glad to hear of the news, proof that his agreement with the Ruin King, what seemed like a lifetime ago, had proven to be true. What pleased him even more was the news of Mylori’s great success as commander of the Broken Empire’s armies.

It had been Tavirin who had seen the great potential within the young Mylori. While the other Forgelords of the time, Dwarves centuries older than even Tavirin, had deemed the young Dwarf as reckless, Tavirin had taken Mylori under his charge. Training him, and teaching him to understand and control his anger, the proud leader and peerless warrior that now bore the title Forgelord filled Tavirin with pride.

The oldest Forgelord knew that he was not immortal, but he was confident that when his physical existence finally drew to a close, Mylori would
lead the Broken Empire into a golden age.

Pushing thoughts of his death from his head, Tavirin turned to the east and gave a wolfish grin. With the full might of the Broken Empire at his back, the hills would run red with blood.

Garrison


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Enchantment (Turn 2)
In The Darkness Descends (Fantasy Conquest RP) → 8 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
Sorry for the really short post! I had more planned but my day has been hectic
In The Darkness Descends (Fantasy Conquest RP) → 8 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
The Broken Empire grew weary of war. In near every direction it had sent it's armies to kill and die in it's name, but what truly been gained? Nations in love with war had been crushed, but there would be more in time. The Empire's borders had spread, but they could fall just as quickly. That is what Tavirin saw as he stood beside the corpse of Antonius, head bowed in respect to his comrade. He felt no rage, the thirst for vengeance that had driven him into a berserk rage when first he had seen the Bripiak general fall was gone. In it's place was a strange serenity.

Armies must be moved, peace must be maintained, plans must be made. The Broken Empire grew weary of war, but it knew that war was eternal.

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Enchantment (Turn 1)
In The Darkness Descends (Fantasy Conquest RP) → 8 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
I'll have my post up tomorrow for sure, tonight if I manage to find the time
In The Darkness Descends (Fantasy Conquest RP) → 8 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
Watch this space
In The Darkness Descends (Fantasy Conquest RP) → 8 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
Mylori didn't try and conceal his smile as the Warlock stormed out of the tent, out into the whirling snows as the Necromancer's usual mask of no emotion slipped for a precious moment. Narrik Deadheart hurried after the Orc, no doubt already uttering curses towards his fellow Forgemaster, but Mylori did not care. He knew that he had won this day, and though Ronaz'Thunk no doubt resented the decision, he knew that it was the right one in his black heart.

The Orc Necromancers, along with their ever-present Lichguard, would stay back in reserve, only committing to the battle if it was turning heavily against them, but Mylori doubted they would be needed at all. He had seen first-hand the majesty of New Engelica, and scouts sent to the west reported the sheer power that the Magi of their ally possessed. It was that same power that had led Mylori to ban the Necromancer's involvement in the coming battle.

It was no secret that Divine and Necromancy were two schools of magic with a long history of bloody conflict, and the very fact that this alliance between the Broken and the New existed was through a wary tolerance of each other. If the two magics were used side-by-side then it would be a force that few could hope to resist, but for now the Dwarf worried that open use of the hated Necromancy in front of the Divine allies could spark a conflict that neither nation wanted. So for now, it would be the Dwarves and Machines that fought alongside the soldiers of New Engelica, not the undead and those that commanded them.

Mylori was aching for the thrill of battle again, and his scouts told him that New Engelica had already crossed the Limgar border, obviously intending to meet with the Broken Empire's own forces before pushing against the final resistance as one. The Forgelord stopped for a moment to worry if he would meet any of the characters that Tavirin had mentioned when he told of his journey to their neighbors, and then thought of Tavirin himself, far to west. Reports were broken and scarce so far, but those that had reached Mylori told of another great victory for the Broken Empire. It would seem that their alliances to both east and west were both proving extremely bountiful.

Focusing his thoughts on the coming conflict once again, Mylori picked up his beloved Great Axe from where it rested on the low table before him, and, after bracing himself for a moment, stepped out into the bitter cold. Seeing a young, at least in terms of Dwarves, Hammerbearer standing guard just outside the entrance, Mylori prepared for the battle to come.

"We march when the sun rises, tell the generals to meet with me in the vanguard."



Tavirin lent on his war-hammer for a second to catch his breath. His master-crafted armour, forged by his much younger self centuries ago but still amongst the finest armour, was splashed with crimson blood. He had lost count of how many of the tribesmen he had cut down where they stood. The Broken Empire's small force had had the desired effect, bursting across the border and slaughtering the garrison of the Iastuf Republic before they could form any kind of retaliation. With the support of the Bripiak army, the last pockets of resistance had been quickly cornered and broken, and now Tavirin was confident that the province was truly under the fold of the Broken Empire.

Already small groups had been arriving from every corner of Empire, eager to claim their new homeland and begin to rebuild what had been destroyed in the battle. Turning his eyes west once more, Tavirin sensed the tall, proud figure of Antonius at his shoulder.

"Your machines are a wonder to behold Tavirin"

The Forgelord smiled as he turned to the leader of the Bripiak armies. A true soldier, fighting his way through the ranks to the esteemed position of Grand General, Antonius and Tavirin had formed an almost instant bond when they met months ago.

"Your own soldiers are impressive Antonius"

Wiping off his bloody sword on his already crimson cloak, Antonius' face took on a serious expression as he cast his eyes towards the hills to the west.

"They will have to be if we are to succeed in your plan Forgelord"

Turning towards the west as well, where Tavirin knew the bloodthirsty tribes that called those slopes their home were no doubt waiting for the approaching army.

"We will succeed. We must, else we will be cut off from those in the east"

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Lesser Earth Magic (Turn 3)
In The Darkness Descends (Fantasy Conquest RP) → 8 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
@RomeroSo does that mean that the Arch-Lich might come and talk to us? Try and win some of us over etc?
In The Darkness Descends (Fantasy Conquest RP) → 8 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
I'll have mine up later today hopefully!
In The Darkness Descends (Fantasy Conquest RP) → 8 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
Are there going to be any new traits further down the line that do help against the Darkness?
In The Darkness Descends (Fantasy Conquest RP) → 8 yrs ago Forum: Nation Roleplay
The Great Axe hissed through the air with practiced grace as Mylori laughed. He felt incomplete without a weapon in his hand, and his Great Axe had become as much a part of him as his own arm. He moved naturally, with a fluency that did not match his Dwarvish frame. The honed blade connected with the last surviving border guard with a sicking crunch as the metal crumpled flesh and bone. Wiping the crimson blood from his face, the Forgelord spat into the freshly fallen snow.

Turning back towards the broken camp where the Limgar border guards had been huddling against the coming cold, Mylori took in the scene. The snow had been stained red by Limgar blood. Two of the guards had fallen where they sat, hands not even reaching their weapons before they were forcefully separated from their life. The final one had managed to bolt, at least until Mylori caught him and silenced him from alerting the garrison. The small group of Hammerbearer's that had accompanied Mylori were searching the camp and ensuring that they were not caught off guard by any passing patrols. Mylori never felt more at home than he did on the battlefield, and he took a moment to look east to where he knew Tavirin was marching against a new foe with a quick and small detachment. He hoped that he would see the aged Forgelord again soon, but until then he must put up with Narrik.

As soon as he thought of the Dwarf, he felt a chill run down the back of his neck and a familiar stench filled the air, the rot of death cutting across the acrid smell of freshly spilled blood. Turning towards the gathering shadows at the center of the camp, Mylori wasn't surprised to see Warlock Ronaz'Thunk stride into the camp, flanked by the inevitable detachment of Lichguard. Mylori wasn't the only Dwarf in the camp to tighten his grip on his weapon as the Hammerbearer's shifted, uncomfortable of these new arrivals. Walking by the side of the Orcish Warlock was the Dwarf that Mylori most detested seeing, the third Forgelord, Narrik Deadheart.

Clad in black armour disturbingly similar to the armour donned by the Warlocks and their Lichguard, Narrik was a sight that turned Mylori's stomach more than the horrors of war ever could. Even when he spoke, his voice rang with the rattling tone of the Warlocks.

"Greeting Forgelord Mylori! I am glad to see that you have returned to us"

Mylori forced down the retch as he met eyes with his fellow Forgelord, and he could swear that the Dwarves eyes were darkening, but before he could be sure, or even reply, it was the Warlock, Ronaz'Thunk, that spoke.

"I had heard that you would not survive Dwarf"

At that Mylori allowed himself a smile. If it weren't for the Lichguard gathered around him, the Forgelord doubted tha the would have stopped himself for striking the Warlock for that insolence.

"Obviously your informants misjudged me Orc. It was just a scratch I assure you"

Seemingly deaf to the Dwarves words, Ronaz'Thunk moved over to the corpse of one of the border guard, looking down at the deep slash across the man's neck, blood still seeping out to stain the snow.

"This one will do"

Before any present could question his intentions, the Warlock closed his eyes and extended his hands towards the corpse. The air grew chill, and Mylori could only watch in stunned silence as the corpse began to writhe on the floor, movements awkward and inhuman. Slowly rising till it was a few inches above the ground, the corpse's eyes shot open, bloodshot but lifeless as they stared up at the Warlock.

"Where is the garrison located in this province?"

The corpse twitched and as it opened it's mouth, blood spilled forth and a horrific retching sound issued forth. Words could be made out in the retching, and Mylori watched as it answered the Warlock.

"Marching...East...Along...Coast"

Satisfied with what he had heard, the Warlocks eyes snapped open and the corpse dropped to the ground, limp once more as blood dripped from it's mouth onto the snow, so soaked with blood it was little more than slush. The Warlock turned away and was already striding away, quickly followed by Narrik and it's contingent of Lichguard, before it spoke to Mylori.

"We march for the coast. Gather your men Forgelord"

And so the small group of Dwarves were left where they had been before, alone in a broken camp with three dead men, although one didn't seem to totally understand being dead. Mylori was in shocked silence for a few seconds before gathering himself.

"We're heading back to the main camp, prepare for marching at dawn"

Wrenching his Great Axe free from the corpse it was still embedded in, Mylori set off after his men. He had pushed hard to reach this Province in time to lead the offensive, and would not allow that cursed Orc to beat him to the battle.

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Lesser Earth Magic (Turn 2)
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