Hawthorne

The Prince's Royal Guard

War Room

---

"Indeed." Balthazar said in agreement. The Prince and his retinue certainly had a way of attracting strange folk. "As for Sir Siegfried, we've yet to receive word from him. He has sent no riders or messengers ahead to meet us, perhaps so as not to alert the invaders." The lord explained, before moving to address the Duke's other concern. "Rest assured, however: unless they have been delayed for some reason or another, we can expect their arrival tomorrow." Siegfried could be a stubborn old fool with no regard for subtlety... but he could be relied upon to do what was necessary, when it was required of him.

The man watched as the Duke took off his crown-- a gesture that would be dangerous in a public crowd. After all, to do something like that would be to show weakness. Still, if the spymaster knew anything, it was that the weight of the crown was immense. In a gesture of solidarity, Balthazar leaned backward in his chair, allowing the tenseness in his body to slacken, if only for a moment. "I believe we've earned ourselves a moment of respite, my friend." He says, finishing his report and setting aside his pen. It will take some time for new reports to come in, and it was important to take rare moments like this to recuperate.

"All things considered, our forces have been holding out quite well." Balthazar mused, recalling the casualty report from memory. "It is my hope that by the time this concludes, the damage to the city's infrastructure would not be too great." The walls would need repair, as would the gate and the keep itself, but overall, things would hold for now.

He hoped that if all went well, things would stay that way.

Co-GM IC:

North Gate

---

The soldiers atop the walls rallied at the sight of their Prince, having charged headlong towards the enemies without fear. The men engaged the orcs in battle, and while it was quickly made evident that these invaders were not mere untrained goblins, but bloodthirsty warriors, they managed to put up a good fight. That is, of course, until Naysein began her battle-song. In an instant, her magic weaved its way into their hearts, and soon, a guardsman could indeed match an orc warrior in battle.

Leonidas dueled Bhakk Ashenskin, Zatana faced Ghukk Bonecrusher, and Naysein and the soldiers faced off against the orc warriors. The walls were a battlefield all of their own, the sounds of swords, steel, and song echoing for all to hear. As archers and riflemen dealt with the orcs in the battlefield below, so too did the guardsmen fight atop the walls. It almost seemed as if many of them were now timing their attacks to the bard's ballad, the rhythm of battle made literal in all its forms.

The prince finished off his opponent, a flash of golden light upon his hammer, while the assassin executed her target, her daggers slick with orc blood. The defeat of the orc lieutenants-- the blood brothers Bhakk and Ghukk, quickly crushed enemy morale, which was only exacerbated by the bard's blades and songs. Soon, the orcs are driven from the walls, leaving only stragglers... and the grappling hook that remains.

West Gate

---

The men atop the walls, though at first afraid, remembered their training and quickly formed up behind their lieutenant. Rudolph and his shield wall began pushing towards the goblin honor guard, the more experienced men at the front. They prepared to clash against Adgak and his goblins, but of course, they weren't the only ones atop the wall. Merik quickly closed the gap between the two forces, landing in the center. His words intimidated some of the goblins, but the presence of their warchief made it so that they did not hesitate.

Merik's sword swings were powerful, and drove many of the goblins back. The unlucky few caught by his first attack were cleaved in twain, thrown off the walls, or both. Soon however, with a shout from their warchief, they reformed ranks, now much harder to displace. Rudolph and his men were quick to assist the lizardman before he could become too surrounded, the two shield walls now face-to-face.

The goblins' tall shields and heavy armor made it difficult for the riflemen and bowmen to score any kills, but occasionally, a projectile would make it through the overlapped plates of metal and find purchase in goblin flesh. If this didn't kill, it would distract the enemy long enough for Rudolph or one of his men to finish them off. Adgak and his honor guard however, were not to be trifled with. They made sure that for every goblin killed, a soldier or two was killed. The warchief himself was no pushover, either-- he would wade through the ranks, strike at an opponent's legs, and retreat before he could suffer any reprisal.

These goblins weren't receiving any reinforcements, the fodder still having run for the hills. However, the effects were beginning to wane, and a few of them have begun to watch the battle take place on the walls. The defenders would have to defeat these goblins soon, or they would rally, and the siege on this part of the wall would start all over again! Perhaps they could try to kill their warchief, rout the honor guard, or try to dislodge the grappling hooks... whatever they choose, they cannot let this battle prolong.

East Gate

---

Faira and her men pushed forward across the walls, the reinforcements being a boon in that regard. She and the more experienced guardsmen killed the goblins in their paths, while the less experienced conscripts provided support. The lives of several men were lost in the push to reclaim the wall, but for every man that was killed, they had taken the lives of a few goblins. This ruthless calculus meant that eventually, the goblins, whose main strength were their numbers, were eventually defeated.

The mercenary rode the ladder down onto the fields where Manald was engaging the other troll. Her use of fire quickly put a stop to the troll's rapid regeneration, as the flames would cauterize their wounds and stop them from healing properly. With the axe troll thoroughly dead, the fiery dagger was sent flying in the direction of the hammer troll as the lycanthrope continued his charge.

The troll at the gate was hard at work in its attempts to break down the gate. It let out a roar as pain shot up its body, courtesy of Faira's dagger. It turned around to see Manald wielding an axe and moved to block the attack, but it was far too slow, compared to the swiftness of the Beastman. The axe found its mark in the creature's heart-- not quite the head, but while an attack like that would be a deathblow for most other creatures, this was a troll.

The hammer-wielding troll dropped its weapon, pulled the flaming dagger from its back, and opted to engage Manald in close quarters. Meanwhile, the goblin forces, without a ladder to climb, decide to try and attack Faira, sensing the lack of her other weapon. The riflemen and bowmen atop the walls continued to try and kill the goblins around her, but there were quite a few of them. Desperation and fear fueling their attacks, the enemies continued their assault.

Sewers

---

Both men and goblin alike were surprised when Drana's magic caused a wall of fire to erupt from the ground. Now that the enemies were thoroughly stopped in their tracks, this gave the heroes time to allow the militia to regain their bearings. A combination of combat, tactics, and magic were used in conjunction to push the goblins back. Near the fight's climax, Acrius lobbed a cluster of bombs at the wolves that were carrying the rest of the explosives, causing an earth-shaking detonation.

When the dust settled, Acrius would find himself mostly unharmed, damage to him prevented by the magical barrier. With the goblins' entrance to the sewers cut off, the few enemies that remained were quickly killed. Damage to the city's sewer system would be expensive to repair, but it was worth it-- better to deal with that down the line, than to face goblins and orcs within the city itself. As a result, it's quite likely that the sappers would try to seek alternate entrances to the city from different angles; likely one of the gates.

There were a few casualties, but thanks to the pair's assistance, most men would walk away alive, if a little shaken. The men that were injured had anything from sword cuts to missing limbs (though these were mostly fingers and toes), courtesy of goblin explosives. In spite of it all, one thing was for certain: the sewers were secure for now, and the defenders could choose to reinforce another part of the city's defenses, or report to the War Room, if they so chose.

The Prince's Royal Guard

War Room

---

The War Room was a battlefield on its own, but instead of swords and blood, this battle was fought with pens and ink. It was from here that nobles and commanders would decide where to move and strike. Lord Balthazar and Duke Karstilli were hard at work, sifting through reports, managing resources, and sending orders down the line to the commanders and lieutenants that would issue them to their men. Scribes and pages quickly transcribed their words into writing, while Balthazar's Record-Hunters found new employment in making everyone's lives easier; they would help seek out records, pass paper and ink, write things down, or even move pieces around the strategic map.

"New reports have come in, m'lord." A soldier bows to Duke Karstilli and to Balthazar. The man quickly passes off his papers, before returning to his duties. The two noblemen at the table took the time to review the reports-- updated information was crucial in any battle, after all.

Balthazar shook his head as he read through the accounts from the various battlefronts. With the presence of the more dangerous Orcs, the North Gate was under heavy attack-- though he was confident that the presence of Naysein would quickly turn the tide there. Meanwhile, it seemed that the West Gate was holding fine, all things considered. Their battering ram was destroyed, and it would no doubt force the Goblins on that side to take a new approach. The East Gate was in a bit of trouble, though. With the presence of both ladders and trolls, they would have to mount a desperate defense. He has not yet received any information about the Sewers, but...

"Lord Balthazar, someone wishes to speak to you-- he bears the seal of the Royal Guard!"

The Spymaster paused for only a moment. Did someone of the Royal Guard fall in battle already?

"Let him through."

The guardsman allowed a young man-- no, a boy in the garb of a conscript to enter. The boy in front of him was a pale, spindly one. He looked as if he could not even muster the strength to lift his pike. For a moment, it seemed as if he was happy to be away from the battle, but now that he's face-to-face with noblemen, his fearful demeanor had returned. The boy bowed deeply, faltering in the presence of his betters, before stammering out half-hearted greetings. This prompted Balthazar to initiate.

"Who are you, and what message do you bring?"

"Ah, uhm, my name is Malfoy, m'lord. I bring a message from Sir Acrius."

Figures. To trust someone like this with the Seal of the Royal Guard? You'd either need to be very trusting, or very careless.

"Go on."

"...we were fighting the Goblins in the Sewers when a priestess and two warriors showed up to help us. They came from the other side, and--"

"Out with it. We don't have all day."

"Oh, uh, Drana Turash of the 'Sacred order'-- that was her name. Sir Acrius wanted to ask you for information about her."

"The Sacred Order..? She is a long way from her temple." Balthazar mused. "...And Turash. That's a noble house of some controversy..." The man thinks to himself, before snapping his fingers. In an instant, one of the Record-Hunters brings forth a sheet of parchment, while another hauls a quill and inkwell to its master.

"I must gather more information first. For now, tell Acrius that he must focus on the battle at hand... and keep an on the Turash girl. She may be a worthwhile asset, but we cannot be certain of her intentions yet." Balthazar takes the quill in his hand, before dismissing the boy with a nod. Malfoy quickly nods back, before then running off.

From there, the orders from the War Room come shortly after. The injured and wounded would be moved into field clinics, with fresh bodies to replace their losses. The East Gate would be reinforced by the reserves-- of which, there are not many, but it is all they can spare. Lastly, Balthazar would then pass off a message to Miss Mary, who would then subsequently pass that on to one of his informants, who would look into this mysterious cleric.

But while Balthazar and Karstilli work, the other members of the Royal Guard had their own problems to worry about.

Co-GM IC:

North Gate

---

Between Leonidas, Naysein, and the soldiers atop the wall, many Orcs never make it to the battlements. Thanks to Zatana and the crew manning the cannons, the enemy archers were quickly silenced, their tough hide no match for Dwarven artillery. Their combined efforts meant a minimum loss of life for the defenders and with reinforcements moving to replace the wounded, things are looking up for those stationed at the North Gate.

Unfortunately, a few grappling hooks remain, and as one soldier moves to dislodge it, an Orc hand takes hold of the hapless man's chainmail. The soldier screams as he's thrown from the battlements, a heavy thud announcing his death-- and the arrival of Orcs, several Orcs make it atop the wall. One of them has skin the color of ash, wears medium bone armor, and wields a wicked-looking sword and a heavy iron shield in his hands. Another one is tall, even among his kind, wears heavy plate armor, and holds a massive warhammer in his hands. These two in particular seem to be a cut above the rest, even among vicious Orcs.

Several soldiers move to try and kill the invaders and dislodge the grappling hooks, but they are quickly killed by the two Orcs at the front. Behind them, several more Orcs appear as reinforcements-- it seems they defer to the leadership of these Orc Lieutenants. The one with the blade speaks, in heavily-accented Common.

"Hear me, Manswine! I am Bhakk Ashenskin, and any man who throws down their blade will be granted a swift death!" He grins wildly, blocking an arrow aimed at him with his shield.

"And my name is Ghukk Bonecrusher-- any who wish to test their mettle against my hammer will learn why I am called Bonecrusher!" A bullet ricochets off of his heavy plate armor, the Orc in question undeterred by the bite of a gnat.

The pair let out a rallying cry, which prompts the Orcs behind them to deliver a warcry of their own. This emboldens the attackers and demoralizes the defenders. Those atop the wall must defeat these lieutenants, the warriors accompanying them, and dislodge the grappling hooks before they are overwhelmed!

West Gate

---

Merik's thunderous roar sent most of the fodder running for the hills. The sappers quickly abandon their task of clearing the rubble and blasting through the gate aside, their reason replaced with a primal fear of dragons and their ilk. The Goblins who were climbing the walls, on the other hand, had no choice but to push forward in spite of it, and they were quickly cut down by the work of Rudolph and his men. Wounded soldiers were quickly replaced for fresh ones, and for a minute, it almost seems like they've managed to successfully repel this attack force.

That is, however, until a group of Goblins makes it atop the walls. These ones move with a speed unexpected of normal Goblins-- it seems these are trained warriors, either unaffected or drawn to the battlements by Merik's draconic roar. These enemies seem to wield proper weapons and wear scraps of metal armor, likely scavenged from dead and fallen warriors. In the center of these armored Goblins, is one that walks with a swagger and confidence. Unlike the others, he holds an ornate shortsword in his hands and wears bone armor, with trinkets and baubles in plain sight.

"I am the Goblin Warchief, Adgak the Heel-Slicer! We spent all week working on that ram, and we're here for revenge!"

The Goblins let out warcries as they fan out, quickly attacking and killing any stragglers, before switching to a shield wall, their tall shields allowing them to hide behind and deflect any normal projectiles in their way. If the defenders can defeat these Goblins and their Warchief, this battle can be won!

East Gate

---

As Faira and her men push towards the ladders, reinforcements from the Keep had arrived to provide their assistance. These were conscripts and levies-- not true soldiers, but perhaps their numbers would help make a difference. The Goblins begin to push but are caught in a pincer between Faira and the soldiers, and the new arrivals who were sent to assist. This would hold them for now, but this stalemate had to be broken soon, or the pendulum would swing in the favor of one side or the other.

Meanwhile, Manald wreaks havoc in the fields below. His display of brutality had managed to take one of the Trolls out of commission and had sent the surrounding Goblins into a panicking retreat. He was uncertain if this was enough to kill the Troll in its entirety, but he was certain that for now, it would not be able to do anything about it. The Hammer Troll let out a furious roar and began smashing the gate apart with its hammer. Thankfully, the city gates are quite resilient, and this one had not sustained any damage up to this point, so the East Gate would hold... for now.

The defenders had to kill the Goblins atop the walls, destroy the ladders the stop further reinforcements, and find a permanent end for the Trolls, or this battle would go on for as long as it had to.

Sewers

---

Acrius and his men had managed to hold against both Goblins and their beasts, the ferocity of these animals failing to triumph over the strategies of war that humanity had cultivated over centuries of conflict. Soon, another wave would arrive to attack, but the ambush from Drana would cause these Goblins to fall just as quickly as the last group. A group of soldiers (and Malfoy) from the surface would come to replace the wounded and fatigued, but thanks to the healing spell, there was no need for a rotation. Instead, these men joined their ranks, in anticipation of a larger attack wave soon.

The runner sent by Acrius, Malfoy, would quickly move towards his commanding officer and relay what Balthazar had told him. It was, admittedly, not very useful information, if at all, but there was at least a reassurance that the spymaster would look into this matter further. There was a small lull in the activity, giving Acrius and Drana some time to discuss this further, but soon, another attack comes.

From behind the corner, it is not easy to be ambushed-- all the defenders have to do is simply wait for another wave. This time, however, is different-- there's a bit of commotion, but they stop before they can be seen. Cowardice, perhaps? Their answer comes in the form of a pair of wooden balls that roll across the floor, prompting those at the front to wonder what exactly they are.

They realize the presence of the fuses too late.

Bright flashes and thunderous noises erupt from the devices-- and those who weren't able to look away or cover their ears to be blinded and deafened respectively, for a short time. From here the next wave arrives; Goblins, Wolves, and a team of sappers that look more experienced than their kin. Most Goblin explosives cannot match up to those of Dwarves, but if anything, Goblins are crafty beings, capable of innovation never seen before.

Perhaps if they can manage to do so, they can... appropriate these explosives and use it to seal the tunnels the Goblins used to get in-- that would certainly end attacks from the Sewers... but first, the defenders must defeat this wave of Goblins, Wolves, and explosive-wielding Sappers. Avoiding explosives in the middle of a dark, damp sewer will be difficult, but it seemed, at least, that the Sappers weren't willing to blow up their own forces. Of course, that would not stop them from trying to disrupt the ranks of the defenders. This was certain to be an... interesting battle.

The Prince's Royal Guard

Co-GM IC:

North Gate

---

Leonidas and Zatana's continuous barrage of arrows helps keep the Orcs at bay, their precise shots putting down more than a few. Still, try as they might, the Orcs' superior toughness means that it will take more than a few arrows to stop their approach. The ones that do make it across the moat manage to reach the walls. The Orcish vanguard reach into their packs and retrieve grappling hooks and toss them skyward, the hooks catching on the crenellations. It seems they've practiced such maneuvers before, and it is clear that they intend to scale the wall!

Several archers and riflemen switch priorities to try and dislodge the hooks, but those who do are picked off by opposing Orc archers who were awaiting an opportunity for people to poke their heads past the battlements. This presents a difficult situation for the defenders; there are Orcs trying to scale the wall with grappling hooks, and if they manage to climb up, then they will certainly be able to kill any archer who tries to stop them. And yet, anyone who tries to remove those hooks will be attacked by the enemy archers. To top it all off, the enemy's numbers have yet to thin. The defenders must break this stalemate soon, or the defense will certainly fail!

West Gate

---

With a well-placed catapult shot by Rudolph and some clever use of tar and explosives by Merik, the battering ram falls by the time it reaches the gate. The Goblins hiding within the ram quickly scatter, retreating back to their lines, but they're soon shot and killed. The gate was damaged in the defense and the fiery impromptu barricade would be certain to provide deterrence for any future gate assaults... for now.

In response, the Goblins switch tactics. Soon, enemy artillery is aimed at parts of the wall. One boulder misses, harmlessly splashing on the moat below, but another crashes into the battlements. The men on that section of the wall are killed or injured, and the Goblins use that moment of pandemonium to charge the walls. Grappling hooks are used to quickly ascend the walls, and soon, Goblins are trying to scale the wall. A more perceptive individual may notice, however, the presence of several sappers near the gate-- it seems they're attempting to clear the flaming rubble to try and blast the gate open with explosives again. In the state that the gate is in... they might actually succeed if they manage to accomplish their task. The defenders must contend with Goblins atop the walls, and at the gates!

East Gate

---

With Faira's assistance, the soldiers manage to destroy or dislodge many of the ladders that go up... but unfortunately, they could not destroy all of them in time. A few siege ladders remain, and they were designed with volume in mind-- every few seconds, more and more Goblins appear upon the walls. Thankfully, they're not as difficult to deal with as Orcs, but their numbers threaten to destroy the defenders atop the walls! They must push towards those remaining ladders and destroy them before they are overwhelmed!

Meanwhile, Manald rampages on the grounds below. Many Goblins are rightfully afraid of the enraged Beastman and stay away, but those foolish enough to challenge him are torn to shreds. The siege Trolls, however, were less intimidated. Any arrow or bullet directed at the trolls quickly bounce off their armor, and the few that strike true and hit flesh are quickly rendered useless, as the Trolls seem to regenerate from their wounds in a matter of seconds! The pair look at one another and then nod, a plan forming in their heads. The one with the giant axe goes on the attack, swinging his implement of destruction in wide arcs that are hard to evade. As the axe Troll faces off against Manald, the hammer Troll attempts to move past their engagement to try and break down the gate. With his focus split between Goblins, the Troll ahead of him, and the Troll trying to destroy the gate, the Beastman must find a way to even the tide, and quickly!

Sewers

---

Between the efforts of Acrius and Petyr, the enemy numbers are quickly thinned. Soon, they both manage to make it back to formation-- and just in time, too. Soon, the second wave of Goblins arrive, and this time, they've brought equalizers of their own: wolves. The beasts are not hard to deal with individually, but wolves hunt in packs and are well-accustomed to fighting alongside both other wolves and their Goblin masters. In the dark, damp corridors of the sewers, it will take more than just skill at arms... this will be a test of coordination.

Whose strategies will win: the tactics of men, or the tactics of beasts?

The Prince's Royal Guard

Within the confines of his room, the chill of the cold morning air was counteracted by the still-warm embers of the hearth. Balthazar wordlessly sat up from his bed, before moving to stand up. Decades of experience had made the spymaster an early riser, and besides-- the old man didn't like sleeping for too long.

Long slumbers had a tendency to dredge up old memories.

With the sun still cresting the horizon, the spymaster decided to do his morning routine while there was still time. He started by doing some stretches, followed by general calisthenics. He did not exercise as strenuously as some of the other, more martially-inclined members of the Royal Guard, but Balthazar knew that as he was getting older. He needed to keep his body as sharp as he kept his mind if he wanted to be of any use.

And so he did.

By the end of his workout, the old man had worked up a bit of a sweat. The secret to his remarkable physique for someone as old as he was was not a complex one: the body was a tool like any other, and if you took good care of your tools, then they will last you a lifetime. Balthazar moved to clean himself up with a nearby basin of water and some linens when he heard a knock at the door.

"M'lord, the Prince has called for you. He awaits you in the War Room."

He recognized that voice, even from behind the door.

"I'll be right out, Miss Mary. Allow me to get dressed." Balthazar replied as he wiped himself clean. He made himself look presentable enough, before opening the door to meet her.

"I have another task for you if you are available, Miss Mary."

She hesitated for a moment, before responding. "W-what is it, m'lord?"

"A friend of mine is waiting outside the gates of the Keep. He is dressed in a red cloak." The old man said, before handing her a token. "Give this to him-- he will know it is from me."

"...and then?"

"And then, you will receive his package and have it ready for me by the time I reach the War Room."

Mary was silent, her mind turning to thoughts of suspicion and worry. Balthazar was quick to reassure her.

"Do this for me, and I will pay you." He says. "...do it discreetly, and I will ensure you are rewarded handsomely."

She clutched the token in her hands tightly before nodding, resolute. "Yes, m'lord.

With that, she was off, and the old man returned to his bedroom to change in full. He slipped on his normal attire, a set of scholar's robes and traveler's clothes-- court finery was better suited to courts, not strategy meetings. With a sigh, Balthazar put on his glasses. He could see just fine at a distance, but he needed them to examine things up close, which was a necessary act for his profession. After securing the rest of his equipment, he exited his quarters and made a beeline towards the War Room. Breakfast could wait until after the Prince's briefings.

---

Balthazar was punctual as he usually was. He gave the Prince a formal bow and greeting, before moving to his side. The spymaster took a few moments to go over the reports Zatana and Faira had brought back, as well as to recall the Record-Hunters to his service. Roughly fifty Goblins working on twenty siege ladders in the dead of night. Troubling information. As well as Acrius struggling with a woman-- complete with a sketch (in a handcrafted tiny book, no less). As entertaining as that was, it was irrelevant to the current situation. The old man decided to open his other reports once it was just the Royal Guard.

For all her faults, it seemed that Miss Mary could be relied upon to do this much, at the very least.

The remainder of the city's captains, as well as the other members of the Royal Guard, funneled in, the Prince began his speech. With siege ladders to the east, Orcs to the north, battering rams to the west, and Sappers in the city's sewer systems, the defenders had quite a bit on their hands today. Soon, the captains had left, and talk had shifted as to where each member of the Royal Guard would be placed to assist.

Balthazar had an idea of where his place was to be.

"My place is here in the War Room, your Majesty." Balthazar started. "...but if my magic is required elsewhere, I believe it would find its strongest use in the sewers. " The dark, tight corridors were difficult to maneuver in, which made evading his magic a difficult prospect. In addition, while Goblins are well-suited to seeing in darkness, only those with magic could peer through magical darkness-- something that would level the playing field, so long as the frontline could hold. "Of course, I can act flexible enough to be anywhere you require, Your Majesty. "

When Zatana had broached the topic of sneaking behind enemy lines to search for more information, and perhaps to sabotage their supplies. A good enough time as any, Balthazar reached into his coat pocket to examine his parcel. Thankfully, it was untampered. He began examining the reports from his other informants, as well as the collaboration between his agents and that of Duke Karstilli's scouts. The results were... fruitful, to say the least.

"Before we discuss that, I feel I should share my findings." Balthazar began. "Firstly, it appears more Goblins have arrived to reinforce the losses they took yesterday." He said. "In fact, it's quite likely that we will be dealing with more today than we did yesterday."

"Secondly, it appears our Dwarven allies are delayed. It appears the tunnels they used to move around in the area have been collapsed." He explained. "It will take some time to clear them-- assuming nothing interferes with them, I expect them to do so within a few days, perhaps a week depending on the damage."

"Lastly, some of our scouts have managed to spot their camp." He announced, pointing to its location on the map. "While surveilling the area, they had spotted an unfamiliar figure within the Orcs. Reportedly, they appeared to be humanoid, but they were not Goblin or Orc." Balthazar stated. "Although we have nothing to confirm such things, I would surmise that this figure is responsible for the advanced tactics of these invaders."

"I'd go as far as to say that they are the brains of the operation. If we can eliminate them, then their army will fall into disarray." He finished. "...Unfortunately for us, it appears their campsite is constantly on the move, likely in an effort to avoid such tactics." Whoever was leading this army was intelligent enough to try and avoid being caught out in the open, at the very least. The spymaster then turned to Zatana. "If you wish to look for information, I'd start there, and then perhaps move to track their whereabouts."

"However... it is a mission fraught with risk and danger." Balthazar continued. "We should not overplay our hand, especially in a precarious position like this." He explained. "I think you should stay here and help us repel the next wave, and await an opportunity to strike. Of course, if an opportunity to disrupt their supply lines presents itself... then by all means."

He then turned to the Prince and the Duke. "What do you think, Your Majesty? And you, Duke Karstilli?" In the end, Prince Leonidas' word was final, and of course, Duke Karstilli could easily voice his own opinion. Balthazar was simply an advisor, and he knew it. Still, the role suited him just fine.

Advance on Distant Proxima (Mecha RPG)

Glad to hear from ya. I'll send in my response to Adam in the next wave of replies.

Advance on Distant Proxima (Mecha RPG)

Posted. Jeez, that took a while. Sorry about the delay-- it's exams over here too, and I've been feeling a little uninspired. Hopefully now I can get back into the saddle proper.

Advance on Distant Proxima (Mecha RPG)

---

The desert had come alive with the screams of the dead and forgotten, but instead of flesh, it was steel. The comms flared to life with activity. Any illusion that this was just another rock had quickly faded. The Pandora had just given them permission to engage, now that the prospects of a peaceful First Contact scenario had passed. It was time to fight.

And so they did.

<<Copy that, Pandora. Firing salvo.>>

Firing solutions popped up on the Orbital's HUD, allowing for a great degree of multi-tasking. The shoulder-mounted missile battery let loose a barrage of Akon-- long-range rockets that flew like the javelins of old. On impact, they left craters in the desert sand, turning the ground to glass. The Hephaestus Assault Gun in the Ajax's arms roared with fury as it spat out round after round of explosive ordnance. Holden was uncertain about whether or not the alien machines used similar alloys to the ones they use back home, but he was certain that it would punch straight through all the same.

As the Hypervelocity Driver charged, Castle surveyed the scene. The hostiles were focused on Gypsy Soul and Aurora. The Odysseus and the Casket were assisting with the defense on the ground, while the Bedwyr was providing air support. Although the shuttle was flying away and was largely ignored by the enemies, it still needed proper protection. The Casket would have been the ideal candidate in that regard, as it would fit its role, but with all hands full, the Ajax's pilot decided to take things into his own hands.

<<This is Castle Two-One to Explorer One. I'll cover your retreat as you go-- don't stay too long.>>

With that, nearly eighty metric tons of mass began maneuvering across the sand, making its way to intercept the shuttle's escape path. As one of the more armored Orbitals of the ground team, the Ajax was well-suited to the role of backline-defender. With its artillery, it could easily stay in the back, protect what was necessary, and still lay down suitable fire support, all from a distance. With all the other Orbitals providing him with more than adequate information to create firing solutions, there was no problem, for the most part.

Of course, an Orbital capable of flight would've been a better option to play babysitter, but you make do with what you have. As much as it pained him to say it, this was what he was good at. This battle was as transient as the shifting sands of the desert, and yet, Castle felt alive. There was no time to stop and smell the flowers, though.

It was time to get to work.

The Prince's Royal Guard

The Record-Hunter sat upon the shingles as Zatana dashed away, completely content with recording this conversation. It did its work in silence, eerily quiet as it wrote down what was being said. Although it did not know them personally, the familiar knew enough from its master's dossiers. It filled in the names of Acrius, Faira, and even Zatana... but it did not recognize the girl who was speaking. Thus, it noted down her most distinctive feature and listed her title down as a "redheaded woman".

As Zatana passed by atop the horse, the familiar recognized her presence and hopped down from the roof, its cloak of parchment billowing in the wind as it descended. It landed atop her hand without so much as a sound, before looking up at the Drow and the scene before it. When offered the tiny book (or rather, appropriately-sized for the origami figure), the Record-Hunter gingerly took it in its papery hands, examining it with curiosity. Although she could not spot anything telling in the figurine's featureless visage, she could detect a bit of gratitude as it nodded wordlessly.

With quill and book in hand, the origami man would spend the rest of the journey transcribing the conversation into its own folds, before copying those over to the book that was given to it. It even spent some time capturing the expression on Acrius' face whilst he was talking to the redheaded woman. The face of a man who was desperate for an exit. A Record-Hunter was not the greatest at drawing and sketches, but its work was more than serviceable.

It would show Zatana what he had written down if she asked. After all, knowledge was meant to be shared.

---

Balthazar gave the Prince a nod of approval. He did not smile, but the spymaster was pleased nevertheless. This was a difficult decision to make, but to know that the Prince had his priorities straight was a good thing. "...As you wish, Your Majesty." The old man stood from his seat, before bowing deeply once more. "I bid you good night." He did not take his eyes off the Prince until he had left-- he was not Emperor, but he was the Prince, and such a title, required, no, demanded respect.

It was only after the Prince had left through the door did he turn to back to his business. As Balthazar awaited the servant's return, the man walked over to the window. Procuring a lacquered wooden pipe from his pocket, the man packed it with some tobacco, before setting it alight with a whispered incantation. He breathed deeply of its contents, before blowing it out into the cold outdoor air. He did not like to partake of it often but after the death of his family, he found such a practice calming, in moderation. Detrimental to his health, perhaps, but it wasn't like he had much time left on his hands anyway.

There was a knock on his door. "M'lord, I've brought the water..."

"Enter."

Sure enough, the serving girl from before had arrived, a bucket of water in each hand. She still seemed intimidated by his presence, but it was not Balthazar's job to make people comfortable around him. "I'm going to need to heat this on your cauldron, m'lord." She squeaked. The man nodded dismissively, prompting the girl to move towards the hearth in the room. She poured water into the cauldron over the fire, her hands shaking from the exertion.

Still, it wouldn't do for another lord's servants to be on such guard around a guest like him. Someone as young as her must've been a lower servant-- nobles were not expected to know her name. But Balthazar was not an ordinary lord.

"...What is your name?"

"Uhm, me?" She asked nervously.

"I don't see anyone else around here." Balthazar commented, not unkindly.

"...Mary, m'lord."

"Miss Mary." Balthazar nodded. 'Miss' was the appropriate title for a lower servant. For a proper housekeeper, the title would be 'Missus'. "...you're doing a fine job. Please, carry on."

"T-thank you, m'lord!" Mary rushed to curtsy, nearly tripping over her skirt in the process. Balthazar couldn't help but shake his head at this.

"Go on, then." His face was impassive, but his tone was relatively friendly. "...It's going to take more than two buckets of water to fill the tub."

"R-right away, m'lord!" With that, the girl curtsied once more, properly this time, before running off to see to her duty. She would leave and return with more water three or four more times, growing increasingly tired as she did so. By the end of it, there was a full cauldron of water, which she then transferred to the wooden tub. All the while, Balthazar simply idled near the window, occasionally blowing smoke from his pipe.

When she was finished, Mary gestured to the tub, a hint of exhaustion in her tone. "The bath is ready, m'lord. Would you like me to wash your back?"

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary, Miss Mary." He might've been an old man, but he could wash his own back. Balthazar reached into a nearby coinpurse, before holding a pair of silvers in his hand-- a large payment for unskilled workers.

"I-I can't accept this, m'lord."

"Consider it payment for a job well-done." Balthazar let the barest hint of a smile shine through his stoic exterior as he dropped it into her palms. "...I'm sure that Duke Karstilli pays you well, but I suppose it should go without saying that you must keep this secret from the other maids."

She was silent for a moment, before accepting the money. "Y-yes, m'lord."

"I may call upon your services again in the future, Miss Mary." Balthazar said. "...but it is late, and I'd like to enjoy my bath in peace. Rest for now-- I'm certain you will have much work to do tomorrow."

"Of course, m'lord. Good night." She bowed properly, before exiting the room and closing the door behind her. The man nodded as she left.

Balthazar sighed. The seeds were planted-- perhaps with a bit more coaxing, she would make a suitable informant within the keep. For now, however, there were things even he could enjoy. The man emptied his pipe, disrobed in silence, and then moved to enjoy his bath. The old man clicked his tongue as he dipped his toe into the water.

The water was not as hot as he liked.

The Prince's Royal Guard

The Record-Hunter wordlessly hopped onto one of the shingles, procuring a feather from a nearby nest for use as a quill. With practiced precision, the familiar began to transcribe the conversation taking place on the streets below. If it had more time or materials, perhaps it could come up with a sketch of the scene, but it was an archivist, not an artist. Still, the thing began its work, writing down the words in tiny script upon a piece of paper.

---

Balthazar simply nodded in response to the other questions. Indeed, it would certainly be easier for them to avoid patrols altogether, but if push came to shove, eliminating these Orcs would be the smart thing to do. After all, dead men tell no tales. When the discussion was finished, the warlock wished the assassin and the mercenary good luck, and then bid the Prince and the Duke farewell, before leaving the War Room.

There would be time for more planning tomorrow, and he knew that rest would be necessary to keep his mind sharp.

Bergkoff Keep was a fortress of respectable size. At the Duke's behest, Balthazar was given lodgings in one of the guest rooms on the second floor-- something the old man had appreciated. A fire had been lit in the room's hearth to provide light and warmth and to remove the dampness in the air. His luggage and belongings had been brought here ahead of time, which allowed Balthazar to do some more work before going to bed if he wished to do so. The attached lavatory had a garderobe and even had a large wooden tub.

There were a number of things he would've liked to do, but something stood out to him-- something he knew that he would not get the chance to do as the battle intensified. The man turned to the serving girl who had led him to his chambers. She was a small thing who seemed a little intimidated by Balthazar's presence, in spite of her efforts to hide it.

"Please fetch some water." He started. "I've been on the road for weeks now, and I'd like the take the opportunity for a bath if I can manage it."

"R-right away, m'lord."

The girl scurried away, prompting the old man to let out a sigh-- one of both relief and restlessness. Even in his old age, his presence was imposing; something that was both a blessing and a curse. Still, he was glad that even as the splendors of youth fade, his authority had not diminished. As he took off his coat, he heard a knock on his door.

"That was fast. It seems the Duke has some well-trained servants." He opened the door, half-expecting to see that same serving girl with a bucket of water in her hands. Instead, he found the Prince. It seemed his bath would have to wait.

"Your Majesty." Balthazar bowed low. "Please, enter."

Balthazar gestured to the seat in front of the desk that had been provided for him with his free hand. Once the Prince was seated, the man spoke. "Now, what is it that you require of me?"

"That was something I wished to speak to you about." He nodded at Leonidas' inquiries about Helmsguard. Balthazar walked over to the coat hanging on the wall, retrieving the slip of paper that he had left out during the meeting during the War Room. "I was hoping it could wait until after the siege, but one must be aware of what is going on around him-- disasters rarely wait for the previous one to finish before appearing."

The man quickly scanned the parchment before relaying its contents to the Prince. "It appears our mutual friend has yet to respond. Strange, considering how punctual she usually is." Balthazar starts. "Normally this would not be much cause for alarm, but it appears many of my informants around the area have stopped checking in." He paused, raising an eyebrow in thought.

Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action.

"It seems the Helmsguard region is the epicenter for a great many things. The spies that did report in have spoken of a plague that has taken the land." He stopped for a moment, his face more dour than usual. "...and although we cannot be certain, there are reports of the Undead in the region." Troubling news, to be sure.

Balthazar looked the Prince in the eye. "...I know what you must be feeling, but we must not split our forces." He said. "We should focus on breaking this siege. Once that is complete, we can turn our sights on Helmsguard." Leonidas was much like his father-- a man of just morals... but while he was a rational man, he was also subject to bouts of passion. The spymaster could not allow the boy to stray from the task at hand.

He had promised his friend that much.

"...Was there anything else you would like to know, Your Majesty?"

Advance on Distant Proxima (Mecha RPG)

>tfw we're alive


On a more serious note, it's glad to hear from ya. I wish you the best of luck in finishing your requirements. I'll try to get a post out sometime soon, but I'll need a bit of time to reacquaint myself with the setting and the characters, heh.