Maxx

Knights of Melarus

Alright, bitches. Let's get this show back on the road to victory!

Knights of Melarus

So I'm trying to write a third character, who depending on how I feel about writing as him may or may not die off rather quickly. It's one of those characters that's a good idea, but that I'm not sure I'm going to enjoy using. Only one way to find out. Because of that, I may not get a post in today. Just letting you know.

Knights of Melarus

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Pietro Machelli, Anna Strauss, Kane Bounevialle, Karkadin Gatoa, and Wizzlebee de LaShtüp

_{Featuring Kane’s Guard and Bartleby de LaShtüp}

Written with @Spoopy Scary and @Septicgentleman

---

Pietro heard a loud bang from outside of the storeroom door. His right hand flew to his rapier. His left arm stretched out wide, keeping the people back away from the door. Anna took her wand out of her bag and pointed it at a barrel of wine. The barrel floated up into the air magically and stopped above the door. The door shook. Pietro heard a shout and then the crunching of bone on the cobblestone. The door flew open.

Standing in the doorway was none other than Kane Bounevialle, the legendary Talborian guard. Relieved to see that the undead were not encroaching, Anna lowered the barrel to the ground and sighed. He was handsome, just as handsome as the stories said. Spontoon in hand, he walked into the room. For a moment, it appeared to Anna as if a stream of sunlight were stretching down from the heavens and dancing across his golden hair. Pietro’s hand dropped off of his sword’s pommel. It was that guard from earlier in the day, the one that every woman in the city seemed to swoon over. He tipped his hat, mainly to hide his eyes, as the citizens rejoiced in seeing him.

“It’s Kane...!” A plump woman cried.

“Sir Bounevialle?” said a young boy.

“You must hurry!” Kane urgently said to them, “My men have taken point at the main gates; there you can evacuate the city! I had fell the wights on the way, but they won’t be down for long! Come, go!” The citizens heeded his warning and ran for the door. Pietro and Anna followed them out into the alley. They could hear the screams of the wights and the clash of steel against bone from blocks away. Just at the end of the alley, a wight dove onto a guard and pulled him to the ground. The guard struggled under the wight’s strength, managed to roll it onto his back, pinned it to the ground with his shield, and then beat it mercilessly with a hatchet.

“Which way do we go?” the young boy cried.

“Main gates.” Kane repeated, then pointed down the alley Kane had come through, as indicated by a trail of skeletal bodies slowly trying to reassemble themselves. “Follow this path and it’ll get you on the main road toward the southern gate of Maceron, you’ll see some of my men and a large doraki beetle mount. Make haste, before they rise again!”

Kane then turned and looked at the southern Nepharian man with the rapier. He looked capable, perhaps even familiar - but this was no time to be trying to recognize faces. He just looked capable, and knights had a way of measuring up a man’s or woman’s worth.

“Keep them safe!” He said to him, before running in the opposite direction. Pietro looked at him, surprised, as he ran away. He shrugged and drew his sword.

“Do not worry, my dear knight!” Pietro shouted with a smile on his face. “We will not lose a single man, woman, or child!”

The people began to flood towards the end of the alley. One of the children screamed “A dorak! I thought they were myths!” Soon they reached the end of the alley and poured out onto the South Road, one of the four large roads that connected the main gates of the city to the inner square. The road was in chaos. Merchant carts and bodies littered the street. Wights ran amok, hunting down those who had yet to find shelter. Mothers in the crowd following Kane hid their children’s eyes as two wights dragged down a poor woman who was running across the street. Anna drew her wand and blasted the wights off of her with a jet of water. She appeared to draw quite a bit of attention from the wights nearby, who began to circle the group, their jaws hanging open.

Pietro’s eyes grew wide. He shouted “run!” at the people and began to herd them towards the south gate. He ran with his sword in his hand, slashing every wight in their way to pieces before they could react. Anna hovered above the crowd, blasting jets of water at any wight that approached the group. Now every wight on the south boulevard was chasing them towards the gate, their screams absolutely intolerable. Anna flew to catch up with Pietro at the front of the crowd.

“Tell me you have something in that bag of yours for this!” Pietro shouted.

“I have a couple ideas!” Anna hovered back up into the air. She took two different terra cotta grenades out of the pouch on her belt. The largest congregation of wights was in a side street in front of the group, forming a large mob to catch them as they approached. Anna tossed the bomb in her right hand towards the horde. They looked down at the object with curiosity. It hit the ground and shattered, sending a blast of greenish-brown smoke into the air. It smelled so awful that the group, still about five blocks away, could smell it instantly. Anna flourished her wand in the air. A stream of powerful wind surrounded the wights, locking the stench cloud in. It did not affect them at all. Anna noticed another group congregating at the other side of the road. She cursed and pulled on the mini-twister. It stretched across the alley, creating a surging flow of wind that obviously did not obey the laws of physics in the slightest. This was quite a strain on Anna, as wind magic was new to her. She attempted to distribute the stench cloud between the two mobs, but it was becoming too dispersed. She frowned and took her second stench bomb out of her pouch. She had the ingredients to make two more, but making it properly would take hours. She threw the second bomb at the other half of the horde on the other side of the street. The wall of wind converged on the two groups, holding the stench in.

The people were now less than two blocks away, and the wights attacking from behind were catching up. Pietro was at the back of the group, swatting at the wights as he ran. Anna took the third bomb out of her pouch.

“Oh Ma’el, I hope this works,” she muttered. She threw the fire bomb at the stench cloud. Unfazed by the smell, the wights watched the terra cotta ball fly through the air and shatter on the ground. As it hit, the dragon oil ignited the oxygen in the air and threw both itself and the magnesium powder up in a lovely, super-hot explosion. The heat ignited the gas from the stink bombs. The entire block exploded, sending a bellowing “WOOSH!” across the city. The light was blinding. Shards of burning bones flew through the air like shrapnel. When the dust settled, a pile of broken bones laid scattered across the road. Several buildings had been leveled in the blast. Anna hoped no one was inside. She was growing very tired now, and she was beginning to sink towards the ground. Pietro shouted to her as she sank:

“That was brilliant! Smelled like ass, though!” He swatted at another wight that was chasing them. It was exceptionally difficult to hit a target with a sword while running backwards. Pietro stepped on a femur thrown from the blast and fell backwards onto his back. The wights dove on him, dog-piling him to the ground. He screamed.

“Gallor’s balls!” Anna yelled. She pointed her wand at an iron vent where the open sewers seeped into the pipes below the streets. The vent exploded, throwing the iron vent across the street and sending out a torrent of sewer water. The water blasted the wights off of Pietro and knocked the pursuing horde into pieces. Pietro got up from the ground, sputtering, and ran towards the group of civilians. Several city guards were now leading the front of the group, swatting at the wights with their spears and bashing them with wooden shields. Anna was breathing very heavily now. Her wings were exhausted and the hand with her wand in it quivered. She fell to the ground, heaving for breath. Pietro cradled her in his arms and began to run for the gate, which was now not far away.

Suddenly, out of two other side streets, two hordes of wights appeared. They ran towards the citizens, their jaws open wide and their bones rattling. The guards moved to fend them off but were swiftly overcome by the sheer number. Pietro, running with Anna in his arms, became aware of a very large group of skeletons running behind him. They were no more than two paces behind, their arms outstretched and their jaws open in an unending ethereal scream. They approached the gates. As Kane had said, a large beetle stood at the south gate, with several guards on its back. Kane’s guards ran towards the wights attacking the citizens. With their help, the rest of the city guards rallied and pushed the creatures back. Pietro felt a skeletal hand hovering above his shoulder. Anna moaned weakly. As he approached where the guards had set up, he ducked his head and dove, cradling Anna in his arms to protect her from the impact. Just as he hit the ground and skidded to the beetle, a wave of flame erupted across the hordes. Some of the wights burned, while others ran in fear, still screaming.

Pietro sighed in relief and fell onto his back, panting. Anna rolled off of him and got to her knees. She dug through her bag, her hands still shaking, and pulled out a vial of a milky-colored serum.

“Stand still,” she said. “You’re hurt.” Indeed, his jack of plates had several bite marks in it now, and a very large bloody gash was on the base of his neck, put there by the clawing finger bone of a wight.

“Can’t you...usually just zap cuts and bruises away?” he asked through heaves.

“I can’t...do aether magic right now…” she panted. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Alright, just don’t...don’t fuck up.” Anna rolled her eyes. She applied the milky serum to the gash on his neck with a silver spoon. It sunk into the wound and stopped the bleeding. Then she pulled out an herbal bandage. She pulled down the sleeve of his shirt and vest, exposing the top of his chest.

“Not in front of the dead guys, sweetie,” he goaded. He suddenly felt a pressure around his pancreas. “Yeesh, it was a joke. You have no sense of-”

“Shut the hell up and stand still,” Anna said. “I need to apply this very...carefully.” The cool herbal spread on the inside of the bandage was cool to the touch. Slowly, she wrapped the bandage around his body, keeping pressure on the neck wound. Once she had used up the bandage, she took a metal pin out of her bag and used it to hold the bandage in place. Pietro pulled his shirt back up. Then he rocked up to a seated position.

“Thanks,” he said. “For that, and for, you know, drowning me in sewer water.” He flicked a speck of what he seriously hoped was mud off of his vest.

“Anytime,” she said. “And thanks for, you know, not leaving me to be eaten by zombies.” Pietro smiled again.

“Anytime.”

"We should go to the next gate then? Help more people escape?" Karkadin, the Dorak, said to Oscar.

Oscar sighed at the dorak’s suggestion as he fended off another wight. “Maybe,” he said, “my only concern is that – Ha! – the other gates are in much closer quarters that we may not be able to effectively defend. The wights’ main advantage is their numbers, strength, and primitive ambush tactics.”

Sten was still atop Bruk, counting down his leftover bolts. There weren’t many left. He sighed, and looked down at the two. “It’s our duty to help them – but there’s a depressing reality knights got to face: we can’t always save everybody. I would be surprised if anyone was still alive on the outskirts of Maceron after being sieged for this long. If there are any left, they would have to make a break for one of the closest gates.”

Oscar’s spirits appeared to have immediately dimmed. Sten continued, “The fact remains, we cannot hold out against so many wights for so long without reinforcements. We can only save as many as we can before we retreat ourselves.”

Bones flew out from one of the streets into the square, following a primal roar. Charging out was the half-orc guardsman, Alexander Xerxes, now a sweaty big from his wake of devastation. Even though now practically rubble, Alexander continued forward and hooked a cracked up skull’s eye socket with the back, the pick-end, of his war axe, he slung it into the air and swung with his other axe – spraying bone shards through the air over the head of the king’s statue. Two firballs fired from the now mini golems incinerated them in mid-air. The amount of charges they could fire, limited by the amount of mass they had left, then ran out and the fire golems dissipated into thin air. A thin layer of ash seemed to coat the city square.

Alexander stood there panting and invigorated, and a great big smiled stretched from one side to the other.

“YEAH!” Alex bellowed into the air. “Any more?! Any more challengers?! Huh?! Come on! Come and get it!”

Wizzlebee, still in his coach, only kept a wary eye on the half-orc. Bartleby, from down below, piped up real quick to ask an (unanswered) question. “What in Death’s name is that racket? Are there barbarians attacking us now?”

“Here he goes again...” Sten sighed.

“Well hey, what did you expect?” Oscar said, smiling at Sten. “I’m just glad he’s on our side.”

“Who is…” Karkadin softly questioned, somewhat not wishing to really receive an answer.

“I am the wall against which weaklings break!”

“I guess so.” Sten answered Oscar. “We got another large group come through. Some looked hurt, but they’re alive. How much longer do you think we can hold this position?”

“I don’t know.” Oscar answered truthfully. “Not much longer, I think, but I refuse to move from here until we get word from Kane.”

Sten nodded in silence and kept his eyes peeled. There was so much happening it was difficult to focus, even for a Knight of the Ram... or, at least, having once been a Knight of the Ram. But when Kane’s bright hair and shiny armor came into the very edge of the clearing, there was no mistaking it. Their captain had returned with a group of survivors with him.

“I see him!” Sten called to Oscar. But he frowned – something was wrong. Why was one of the citizens carrying his pike? What was it that Kane was carrying that kept him from... from...

“Oh no...” Sten muttered. Oscar looked confused between him and Kane’s approaching band. Then the glistening, unmistakable shade of red caught his eye. A shade of red coating a familiar armor, and a familiar head of hair of a young boy he knew. Oscar’s jaw was dropped and his sword was lowered. Alexander, further ahead, caught a close look at the massive, gouging wound in the neck of the lifeless young man Kane was carrying... even after Alex’s frenzy, his breathing slowed and he, too, lowered his axes. Kane solemnly looked ahead, keeping the family’s rear.

Oscar, after a brief moment, broke from his daze of disbelief. “Don’t tell me...”

Knights of Melarus

Alright, the show must go on. Expect a post tonight or tomorrow.

Knights of Melarus

@Zorogami
@Nosuchthing
@Damiann47

I would really appreciate it if you guys could get a post in. Anyone who doesn't post in reaction to my last post by tomorrow will be marked inactive. I get that people have lives and obligations and such and I've tried to be as accommodating as I could, but this RP is not going in a very good direction at all, what with four people having posted more than once.

@Nicktrano You're good. I know about the whole navy thing. While I'd appreciate a post soon, I know I'm not liable to get one due to circumstances outside your control. Should you not be able to post by tomorrow, we can incorporate your character into the narrative later in some way. If anyone else has a reason for not posting, please let me know and we can incorporate you into the story at a later date.

Knights of Melarus

Okay, I have to start being a little less nice. I need everyone who hasn't posted after the wight attack to post. If you do not, I will set your character as inactive and we will move on. I understand that people have lives outside of this rp (I get it. I do too) but this is getting a little ridiculous. Please post by Sunday night.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

I'm gonna get a post in in a bit.

Knights of Melarus

Post is up. Hide yo' kids. Hide yo' wife.

Knights of Melarus

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The Knights of Maceron

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Fallon glared down at Kane from the top of his horse. He sheathed his sword and frowned. Then he broke out into a wry smile.

"Oh, why Kane," Fallon said. "The more I hear you speak, the more I wonder how you were ever let into the Knights of the Ram in the first place. Of course we cannot evacuate the city. Evacuation would cause panic, and panic would then cause the people of this nation to begin to mistrust their government. And, of course, when people mistrust the government, stains like you and your crew of thugs appear on our glorious surcoats. We could have more revolutions, more instability. More knights could be tempted down your path of mutiny and we cannot have that, now can we?" Fallon paused and relished in his victory. "Now get back to work lest I tell the king that you're rousing up citizens again." Fallon clopped away on his horse, a cordial grin on his face.

Black Blade -Two Steps from Hell

A congregation of darkness was beginning to grow in front of the gates to Maceron castle. The temperature there dropped by several degrees, and the shadows nearby began to grow longer. All of a sudden, the whole city grew silent. Not one word was spoken for a total of thirty seconds. Many opened their mouths to speak, but no sound came out. The cloud cover over the city grew much darker. The smokestacks of the iron district began to pump out blacker and blacker smoke. Every flame in the city was extinguished as if by a gust of wind, and the streets quickly grew so dark that it was nigh impossible to see one's hand in front of one's face. Animals fell silent. Women screamed. Dark howls could be heard from not too far away. The wights still stood at attention, their bones vibrating, waiting for action.

In front of the gates, where the darkness first began to form, a point of light appeared. It swirled around itself cosmically, as if trapped in a gravitational field. Then it began to collapse. The light collapsed until a black disc appeared in the center. The black disc grew in diameter, sucking in all of the light around it, until it became the size of a small person. Then it collapsed in on itself and exploded. The darkness rose from the streets and the light returned. Standing in front of the gates of Maceron Castle was a small cloaked figure about four and a half feet tall. It was hunched over, leaning with its hands just above the ground. Large golden claws covered its hands and black chains hung from its wrists. Its face was obscured under the darkness of its hood. Two long golden horns escaped the hood and arced up into the air. One who looked closely at the creature could see that it had hooves. It stood in silence for a moment, standing completely motionless and staring at the gate. Then it reared up and looked up at the balcony where King Draco watched the chaos unfold.

"King Victor of Draco," the hooded figure said. "I am Lutin, servant of Lord Daraden, Master of Tithe. I have come here at the will of my master to deliver to you a message of utmost importance!" The creature's voice was high-pitched and harmless-sounding, but it carried an echoing resonance that chilled the hearts of those who heard it speak.

"And what might that message be?" Draco called out. His voice boomed over the crowd, but he was quite terrified.

"The land on which your castle sits is now property of Lord Daraden, Master of Tithe!" Lutin shouted. "Put down your arms and leave this land or else fall at His omnipotent strike!" Draco spat down from the balcony.

"Aye, you bastard!" Draco shouted back. "Your master is a fool for him to think that the rightful rulers of Tithe would ever back down to a craven's ultimatum!" Draco waved to Fallon. Fallon nodded and gestured to some of the knights. They drew their weapons and surrounded the demonic creature, their shields brandished. Fallon circled the shield line on his horse.

"Now then," Fallon said. "Let's make this quick. Ha!" Fallon rose his fist into the air. The knights converged on Lutin, charging in shield-first to take him down. Black chains exploded from the darkness behind the knights. They grabbed at their legs and arms, pulling them back away from the cloaked figure. The knights struggled forwards, thrusting lances and swords at Lutin, but none could even scratch him. People still in the streets fled into the nearest structures, hoping to protect themselves.

Fallon backed away on his horse. His eyes were wide with fear. His horse reared up and whinnied as chains grabbed its legs and constricted. It began to struggle against the chains, kicking and screaming. A loud "SNAP!" came from the creature's back leg as it broke. The horse collapsed into the street, crushing Fallon's right leg under it. Two knights ran to Fallon's aid and pulled him out from under the horse. They propped him up on their shoulders.

"This is no victory for you, you bastard!" Fallon said. "Our armies outnumber the power of your magic! We will-"

"That's quite enough out of you," Lutin interrupted. He turned to Fallon and rose one of his hands. A blast of black smoke exploded from his hand. It enveloped Fallon's face and began to swirl around his head in a sinister black cloud. The black cloud returned to Lutin and flew into the darkness under his hood. Fallon collapsed to the cobblestone pavement, his body limp as a marionette with the strings cut. More spectral chains burst from the ground and grabbed the knights who were supporting him. The knights already on the ground began to become cocooned by the dark chains. Try as they might, they could not escape the chains' grasp.

"Are you quite done yet?" Lutin shouted.

"Someone kill him!" Draco cried out. A flurry of arrows flew from the guardsmen inside the castle. When the arrows got within ten feet of Lutin, chains shot up and grabbed the arrows out of the air. He picked up an arrow in his gauntleted hands and snapped it between his fingers.

"You really should try harder!" Lutin shouted. "How about we call this one a draw and you surrender before I really have to start using my magic?" Draco shivered with fear. A cold sweat had broken out on his face. His hair was disheveled. He gripped the rim of the balcony as tightly as he could. Lutin looked backwards onto the street and smiled. There was one single wight walking down the street. It beared no differences from the others, with rags hanging from its bony body. A rudimentary wooden club was held limply in its right hand. As it walked alone, Lutin turned back around and began to giggle.

"You dare laugh at your impending death, you fool?" Draco shouted. "My men will overwhelm you and-"

"Do you know what a quorum is, Victor?" Lutin shouted.

"How dare you interrupt the king Tal-"

"A quorum is defined as the minimum number of members of a society or species required for that society to take action," Lutin said. The last wight wasn't far behind him now. "It is believed by some medical scientists that the germs that cause disease in the body require a certain amount of themselves to be present in order to cause disease. The germs grow and grow, reproducing and gathering nutrients, until eventually they hit a certain number of inhabitants. Then what do you think happens?" The last wight reached the farthest out horde. It placed its left hand on a skeletal shoulder. All of the wights stomped so loudly that it could be heard all across the city.

"How about you tell me?!" Lutin shouted. The wights' heads all jerked simultaneously ahead. Then they locked onto the first living thing they saw. A cloud of smoke exploded around Lutin, and he disappeared. The wights were silent for one more moment, and then they attacked.

---

Pietro Machelli and Anna Strauss

---

Because It Had To Happen

All at once, the wights screamed. They charged at the nearest living thing, brandishing their weapons or grasping their targets with their skeletal hands. Their grips were strong enough to break bones in those they grasped. Once they latched on, they leapt at their targets and chomped down with their skeletal jaws. They dragged victims to the ground and began to beat them mercilessly, stabbing or ripping at their flesh. They tore off flesh with their powerful bites, spitting it into the streets. As they fought they continued to scream, and soon the scream of a wight and a human running from a wight were indistinguishable. The wights who were chained up tore at the chains surrounding them. So many wights resisting together broke through the chains with ease, destroying them as if they were made of glass. Then they swarmed the nearest living things.

Pietro drew his sword as the wights charged and fought back. Their erratic movements were no match for his skilled swordplay, but it didn't matter. He slashed off their heads, tossed their bodies into walls, split them in two. The skeletal beasts simply got up and went back to rampaging. He watched people fall around him, the wights pulling them to the ground and tearing into them. A swarm of six wights converged on a guardsman in the middle of the street. They pulled him to the ground, tossed his sword away, and then began to stab at his chest. When his chain mail prevented their blades from piercing him, they bent over and bit holes in the chain mail.

"Mother of Ma'el!" Pietro shouted. "These things are absolutely ridiculous!" He swatted off the head of a wight with a flick of his sword and slashed another one's arms off. They fell down, put themselves back together, and kept up their rampage. Pietro backed up into an alley, striking at the wights' heads to keep them back. Several citizens, realizing his combat skills, cowered behind him. Though his speed and skill were able to keep the skeletons back, he couldn't stop them. One of the citizens behind him screamed. Three wights ran down the other end of the alley, two brandishing rusted machetes. Pietro leapt across the alley gracefully. Quickly he disarmed two of the wights and beheaded the third with a flick of his rapier. He dug his rondel into another's skull. The horde he had previously struck down reformed. He jumped again and fended them off. He repeated this ritual for several waves, taking out one side, striking down the other, and then repeating. His breaths came in huffs and puffs.

From the south end of the alley, an explosion went off. The wights screamed louder as they were engulfed in flames. They fled the scene, their bodies ablaze. Some ran for water sources. Others ran uncontrolled through the streets, their bodies ablaze. They all feared the presence of fire. Anna floated to the ground on her wings, a bomb in one hand and a wand in the other. A barrel of water blew open, sending a wave across the alley, taking out the other group of skeletons. The water formed itself into a water spout, a tornado of water that spun an incredible speeds.

"They can't reform in running water and they hate fire," Anna said. "Keep those in mind. We have to get out of here!" Pietro ran to a door in the middle of the alley. He pulled on the door handle, failed, and then sliced the lock in two with a strike of his sword. He threw the door open and ran inside, the civilians and Anna on his tail. Inside was a storage room filled with casks of wine.

"I can use these to defend our position," Anna said. "But we can't stay here for long. Eventually the wights will corner us and I only have so much stamina."

"Where the hell is Arya?" Pietro shouted.

Knights of Melarus

I'm gonna have Anna leave the bar when he hears a very particular noise (that will come in my next post). Next post the actual plot begins, since it seems like we have all of our characters.