NytefallWell damn. Closest match.
Good fight, Melon. Good fight.
Good fight, I knew it was going to be a close one, sorry the internet screwed me a little or we could have brought this to a conclusion, I think if the fight drew out you'd have had it.
MelonHead
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Mostly given up on this post by post business
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Good fight, I knew it was going to be a close one, sorry the internet screwed me a little or we could have brought this to a conclusion, I think if the fight drew out you'd have had it.
Beat Melon first then come and see me.
The ultimate test of any of IN's characters.
“Huh, guess a couple of lads have a brain in their head.” Grolan muttered, looking down from the battlements just off to the right of the low-section that was likely to be the primary target when the human infantry forces reached the walls, if they ever did. Half-Face was off to his right with his elites assembled around him, but Grolan was mostly alone, one bleeding Orc at his side holding the feathered crossbow bolt in his chest with bemusement on his face. The young warrior hadn’t even drawn his sabre as he ducked often to avoid incoming bolts and other nasty projectiles. Uncaring if he looked skittish to the nearby warriors, he ducked low and then remained crouched, watching the large half Ogre known as Nargesh leading her sortie out into the Human lines. He had to admire the audacity of such an assault, but he couldn’t help but laugh when he spotted the runt on her shoulders.
He was still chuckling as Half-Face made some remarks to his right, but he grew deadly serious as he realised what he was seeing. As the explosions of erupting powder, launched by the crazies that Grolan made an extended effort to avoid, dotted the field he noticed the same thing Half-Face had, that the human forces were quickly flanking the sortie, and approaching in force. The siege wasn’t done yet; the climax was to come in the next few hours.
“Here they come then.” Grolan said, a little louder, not really for anyone’s benefit but his own. He had no real capacity to command, though he was certainly capable few would listen to him, so he settled on the wall and watched the arrows fly in response to the crossbow-bolts skittering overhead. The siege-ladders came ever closer, fortified with wooden struts to prevent them being easily toppled, they lacked the protection of fully fledged towers, but they could be mounted quicker and Orcs weren’t known for their ranged prowess. However the Bow regiment was definitely doing its bit to dispel that myth, as many a peasant had found out to their chagrin on the blood strewn grass below an Orcish arrow was deadly to a fleshy target. However, Grolan knew that the peasants were nothing more than a tactical sacrifice to Human forces, used to highlight strengths and weaknesses of a target. As they soaked up arrow fire and burning oil and pitch the commanders behind them knew where the Orcish forces were strong, and where they were weak. When the armoured infantry moved in, that was when they would be tested for real.
Grolan watched the human forces begin to surround the sortie, wondering if they would retreat before they were cut off from the castle and inevitably cut down, their losses would be immense, such was always the case with such things. He admired their sacrifice, from a tactical standpoint.
Arrows protruded from the men pushing the ladders, but behind them were hundreds more spearmen in plain clothes, and behind them were the armoured core that would really put Nar Mat Khordh-Ishi to the test.
He was still chuckling as Half-Face made some remarks to his right, but he grew deadly serious as he realised what he was seeing. As the explosions of erupting powder, launched by the crazies that Grolan made an extended effort to avoid, dotted the field he noticed the same thing Half-Face had, that the human forces were quickly flanking the sortie, and approaching in force. The siege wasn’t done yet; the climax was to come in the next few hours.
“Here they come then.” Grolan said, a little louder, not really for anyone’s benefit but his own. He had no real capacity to command, though he was certainly capable few would listen to him, so he settled on the wall and watched the arrows fly in response to the crossbow-bolts skittering overhead. The siege-ladders came ever closer, fortified with wooden struts to prevent them being easily toppled, they lacked the protection of fully fledged towers, but they could be mounted quicker and Orcs weren’t known for their ranged prowess. However the Bow regiment was definitely doing its bit to dispel that myth, as many a peasant had found out to their chagrin on the blood strewn grass below an Orcish arrow was deadly to a fleshy target. However, Grolan knew that the peasants were nothing more than a tactical sacrifice to Human forces, used to highlight strengths and weaknesses of a target. As they soaked up arrow fire and burning oil and pitch the commanders behind them knew where the Orcish forces were strong, and where they were weak. When the armoured infantry moved in, that was when they would be tested for real.
Grolan watched the human forces begin to surround the sortie, wondering if they would retreat before they were cut off from the castle and inevitably cut down, their losses would be immense, such was always the case with such things. He admired their sacrifice, from a tactical standpoint.
Arrows protruded from the men pushing the ladders, but behind them were hundreds more spearmen in plain clothes, and behind them were the armoured core that would really put Nar Mat Khordh-Ishi to the test.
Did I hear my name
Yeah the match I'm in is pretty much at a stalemate. Not even sure if we're gonna finish on time too, since melon is busy with the whole moving plus no Internet thing.
@MelonHead How's that going, by the by?
Pretty shit, I'm fairly frustrated by the situation, actually refusing to pay rent until I have internet.
How do you guys wanna start off the next year?
With a clean sweep of the points, letting the system inplemented by Mahz be the 'global' points, and I handle the actual points. We'd have to do away with wagers.
Or simply just keep going from where we are now, rolling over the points?
Yeah, you can calculate real points, Mahz' system can calculate individual records.
Akael was found lurking in the marketplace, though not without some difficulty. Despite his strange appearance the Elf was adept at blending in with the impoverished and down-trodden, his clothes seeming thread-bear and strictly practical his unusual characteristics were not evident to most. It would take an uncommonly observant man to spot the Elf in the crowd, fortunately for the Tengu who sought his particularly cold set of skills; he had such a man in his employ. Akael noticed him only a few moments after he himself had been spotted, but before he could prepare to escape the man raised his hand in a sign of peace. Akael’s eyes narrowed, one hand clutching the knife sheathed at his side as he turned his body, hiding his intent.
“Akael, I am from the resistance, I’ve got a message for you.” The man said, his words formulaic and practiced, as if he was resisting the urge to return to the gutter speak he was likely born into. Akael’s response softened somewhat, but he was still ready to slit the man’s throat as he got close to him. Akael suffered a minor pain behind his forehead as his pangs hit him, always at the most inopportune time. Gritting his teeth, he nodded his head slightly.
“You’ve been asked to work for the boss, the Tengu, he wants to see you, if you’d follow me I’ll be able to lead you to him, he isn’t easy to find.” The man told Akael.
“I’ll find him.” Akael said, refusing to follow someone into what could possibly be an ambush. The Tengu was unique, Akael was confident he could find him. If he couldn’t it was really no concern of his, he wasn’t all that interested in what the strange bird-like man had to say at any rate. The man frowned, but Akael had already made efforts to melt into the crowd, disappearing in the press of bodies around him.
It took him perhaps half an hour to pin down the Tengu’s location, mostly from a smattering of conversation and one nonchalant question asked in a crowd where his appearance would not alert the people to his identity. He worked from these clues to find the tent, conspicuously set against the side of the cliff, and after a cautious moment peered inside, to find that as he suspected it was a front for a cave entrance. He followed it with careful steps, knowing all too well how his steps could echo and reveal his presence to enemies, but as he ventured into the strange obviously crafted-room and spotted the Tengu within, he knew he was in the right place. He had managed to arrive first, despite almost an hour since his messenger had been sent out to find him, suggesting that the others were dawdling for whatever reason.
“I am here, Tengu.” Akael said, his deep voice resonating as he spoke in a reserved, almost quiet, fashion.
“Akael, I am from the resistance, I’ve got a message for you.” The man said, his words formulaic and practiced, as if he was resisting the urge to return to the gutter speak he was likely born into. Akael’s response softened somewhat, but he was still ready to slit the man’s throat as he got close to him. Akael suffered a minor pain behind his forehead as his pangs hit him, always at the most inopportune time. Gritting his teeth, he nodded his head slightly.
“You’ve been asked to work for the boss, the Tengu, he wants to see you, if you’d follow me I’ll be able to lead you to him, he isn’t easy to find.” The man told Akael.
“I’ll find him.” Akael said, refusing to follow someone into what could possibly be an ambush. The Tengu was unique, Akael was confident he could find him. If he couldn’t it was really no concern of his, he wasn’t all that interested in what the strange bird-like man had to say at any rate. The man frowned, but Akael had already made efforts to melt into the crowd, disappearing in the press of bodies around him.
It took him perhaps half an hour to pin down the Tengu’s location, mostly from a smattering of conversation and one nonchalant question asked in a crowd where his appearance would not alert the people to his identity. He worked from these clues to find the tent, conspicuously set against the side of the cliff, and after a cautious moment peered inside, to find that as he suspected it was a front for a cave entrance. He followed it with careful steps, knowing all too well how his steps could echo and reveal his presence to enemies, but as he ventured into the strange obviously crafted-room and spotted the Tengu within, he knew he was in the right place. He had managed to arrive first, despite almost an hour since his messenger had been sent out to find him, suggesting that the others were dawdling for whatever reason.
“I am here, Tengu.” Akael said, his deep voice resonating as he spoke in a reserved, almost quiet, fashion.
Hmm, so our characters are being gathered and brought to a command/briefing tent of some form? I'll just post to that effect and correct my mistake later if necessary, as waiting for a response isn't really in my power atm with my non-existant internet.
Just an idea but it might be worth re-introducing the 'tl;dr' section that the past Allaria's had, just to include important plot points and ensure we know what we're doing, as there's always a lot going on in your posts Rilla and its not always evident what sort of direction you want us going in. Later it won't be as important as you won't need us to do go exactly where you say, but for the opening intro we sort of need orders for story purposes as well as our own ease.
Just an idea but it might be worth re-introducing the 'tl;dr' section that the past Allaria's had, just to include important plot points and ensure we know what we're doing, as there's always a lot going on in your posts Rilla and its not always evident what sort of direction you want us going in. Later it won't be as important as you won't need us to do go exactly where you say, but for the opening intro we sort of need orders for story purposes as well as our own ease.
Metz was on his feet by that point, allowing him to get moving and provide a more difficult target for his foe as he was forced to duck, stow his pistol, and draw. In that amount of time Metz was more than capable of cocking his pistol and firing, while strafing quickly rightwards, his shot was off a little to the right rather than dead centre, but still likely to hit the stationary, albeit crouching, Wolf. His opponent had drawn by the time Metz could fire his second round, hopefully his aim was thrown off by his own dodging manoeuvres, if he even bothered to avoid the rounds at all.
Metz was burning mana quickly, two bolts in rapid succession and an abundance of quick manoeuvres was going to cost him dearly. However, he still had some energy left in him, enough to strafe to the end of his platform in seconds, at which point he would have to stop. Only one shot was on target due to Metz’ movement, and fortunately for him it flew underneath his raised right arm barely grazing his vest, adrenaline allowing him to ignore it momentarily. He reached the edge of the platform as he saw his foe’s ice coming in. However, his own ministrations were complete at that point, and with an effort born of pure determination he raised his left arm sufficiently to shoot the bolt, launching it underarm so that it cut right through the ice, blasting into the platform his foe stood upon. The bolt was unlikely to threaten his foe directly unless he had remained standing behind the Ice as the bolt flew through it, but it had saved Metz from its freezing effects.
As he reached the edge of the platform however he did not stop, he jumped, seemingly into open air as the nearest platform was in front of him; his hand furiously weaved as he flew through the air to activate his levitation spell before he fell more than ten feet below the platform, cocking his pistol to prepare his final shot. The main benefit to falling through the air for Metz was it took him briefly out of his enemy’s line of sight.
Metz was burning mana quickly, two bolts in rapid succession and an abundance of quick manoeuvres was going to cost him dearly. However, he still had some energy left in him, enough to strafe to the end of his platform in seconds, at which point he would have to stop. Only one shot was on target due to Metz’ movement, and fortunately for him it flew underneath his raised right arm barely grazing his vest, adrenaline allowing him to ignore it momentarily. He reached the edge of the platform as he saw his foe’s ice coming in. However, his own ministrations were complete at that point, and with an effort born of pure determination he raised his left arm sufficiently to shoot the bolt, launching it underarm so that it cut right through the ice, blasting into the platform his foe stood upon. The bolt was unlikely to threaten his foe directly unless he had remained standing behind the Ice as the bolt flew through it, but it had saved Metz from its freezing effects.
As he reached the edge of the platform however he did not stop, he jumped, seemingly into open air as the nearest platform was in front of him; his hand furiously weaved as he flew through the air to activate his levitation spell before he fell more than ten feet below the platform, cocking his pistol to prepare his final shot. The main benefit to falling through the air for Metz was it took him briefly out of his enemy’s line of sight.
I'm going to post now, DJ if you're available and can post in return I'll be able to post again, might be the best I can do in order to fill this fight out.
Using phone. Ill reply my time afternoon asap tomorrow. Sorry for inconvenience. Damn landlord.
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