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- RyanTadashi 9 yrs ago
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I'm still around as well, so please give me a shout out if you remake this!@RabidAnubis
No worries people, I am patient and still excited!
Just checking in people to see who's still hoping to go on with this!
Good stuff guys. Thanks for coming to my aid!
Just checking in!
How is everybody doing on their characters?
How is everybody doing on their characters?
Even though the OOC is up, we haven't started yet and are still absolutely accepting new people!
Finally got that up, sorry it took a bit longer than expected!
They were close, Eros was certain.
The legendary marksman stood in the center of a ditch, looking at his lieutenants in bewilderment. He had been in his fair share of ditches in his many years of adventuring, but this one was different. This one was shaped like a foot.
“Are you certain, Lord Zolomon?” The young Lieutenant Marios River wiped a bead of sweat – despite the cold – from his fair, unwrinkled forehead. “These seem more like the tracks of a monster than the heroes we are supposed to be meeting.”
Eros Zolomon looked up from his quiver. For the third time that morning, the Lord Zolomon was checking for any flaws in his equipment. Warped shafts, blemishes on his bow, impotent poison – any small flaw could dispel his magic, ruin his attack. Eros always liked – needed – to be certain. That's exactly why he knew that they were indeed following the correct trail. He looked at his other lieutenant who smiled back knowingly. Atticus Black had joined Eros and his brother Paris many years ago when the pair had first set out adventuring, hunting down the wildest and most fantastical beasts that threatened the common folk of the land. Though Black was just an ordinary soldier at the time, he had always proved to be a loyal and valuable asset. The veteran had worked hard over the years and had surely been rewarded by his appreciative lord; he was now a top ranking officer with his own son elevated to the rank of captain quickly – partially a favor to his father and partially with the hope that determination and a faithful heart were hereditary.
The three leaders of House Zolomon continued along the trail, planning on arriving at the fortress of the Order of Schlucht before too long. Eros hoped to have time to check in with his old allies before any other heroes arrived to join him in this all important quest. House Zolomon owed the knights of the Order a great deal of gratitude for the protection they offered from barbarians, monsters or any other of the multitude of threats in this dangerous land. The smallfolk of House Zolomon had lived in relative security over the years because of the knights' valiant efforts. The fort was just coming into view when one of Eros's outriders came charging back down the path, both rider and horse panting hard. The scout reported immediately to his lord. Eros knew the man – he knew each of his soldiers by name – as Iravan, a stoic, experienced warrior. Whatever had this well-traveled veteran so frightened must be serious indeed.
“My Lord! My Lord! The order.. they're... the knights.. barbarians.. dead..” Iravan spluttered and tripped over his words, trying to say everything at once. He took a moment to gather himself and explained to the gathered Zolomon leaders about what he had witnessed just up the road.
The Order of Schlucht was no more. In its place was a host of abominations to the natural order of the world itself. What used to be men – sons, fathers, friends – were now ghastly creatures, animated skeletons still adorned with traces of their past lives. The shattered remnants of the knights' armor hung from emaciated carcasses, and some of the animated dead even sported tattered furs and bloody axes. The horrified lord figured that there must have been a battle that prompted this grizzly scene; the fort had obviously been sieged by barbarians, but living or dead, Eros couldn't tell.
What mattered now was that both sides were indeed dead. The only thing left was to put these obscenities to rest.
_____________________________________
“Another volley on the first battlement!” The arcane marksman's voice rang clear over the sounds of bowstrings thrumming and arrows skipping off stone, and just as their lord commanded, the ranged specialists that constituted Eros Zolomon's elite guard unleashed a concentrated barrage of enchanted arrows at the group of skeletons throwing and shooting various projectiles from the nearest tower. Normal arrows wouldn't have much of an effect on the undead, so the House Zolomon archers were forced to be innovative. Each arrow was coated in an extremely combustible oil that would explode in flames after the slightest impact. To avoid arrows exploding from wind resistance, Eros enchanted them with a short-lived magical shield and dispelled the shields of each volley the instant before collision.
Each volley further ruined significant portions of the castle, sending flaming skeletons tumbling down to crash and crumble on the rocks below. The archers continued the assault from on top a narrow precipice while a score of the ordinary house soldiers defended the two pathways leading to Eros and his guard's vantage point. Wielding hammers and maces, the soldiers engaged and smashed to pieces every undead that drew too near. The legendary lord watched his company with satisfaction as he ordered in yet another volley. He knew that he wasn't going to overtake this emaciated army with one assault, but he was confident that his course of action would take its toll on his enemy without posing a significant danger to his retinue.
The Zolomon archers continued their destructive rain until one barrage collapsed the only remaining portion of the southernmost wall. There was already a sizable hole from previous sieges, and the explosive volley only widened the hole and cleared away the rubble. Eros didn't think anything of the new development until the smoked cleared from the previous barrage; what he saw then made him lower his bow and stare.
Just behind the hole, an immense mob of the skeletons had been congregating, pushing and jostling for position, fighting hungrily to be the first out the wall. When the rubble was cleared and the last of the wall destroyed, a dozen or so skeletons were crushed; however, scores upon scores of the fiends remained, crawling over their fallen, burning comrades and pouring out of the hole.
Eros and his lieutenants immediately started barking orders, Zolomon soldiers scrambling in every direction. Their position was defensible, but there is only so much benefit location can give against a veritable horde of ravenous, unfeeling monsters.
The legendary marksman stood in the center of a ditch, looking at his lieutenants in bewilderment. He had been in his fair share of ditches in his many years of adventuring, but this one was different. This one was shaped like a foot.
“Are you certain, Lord Zolomon?” The young Lieutenant Marios River wiped a bead of sweat – despite the cold – from his fair, unwrinkled forehead. “These seem more like the tracks of a monster than the heroes we are supposed to be meeting.”
Eros Zolomon looked up from his quiver. For the third time that morning, the Lord Zolomon was checking for any flaws in his equipment. Warped shafts, blemishes on his bow, impotent poison – any small flaw could dispel his magic, ruin his attack. Eros always liked – needed – to be certain. That's exactly why he knew that they were indeed following the correct trail. He looked at his other lieutenant who smiled back knowingly. Atticus Black had joined Eros and his brother Paris many years ago when the pair had first set out adventuring, hunting down the wildest and most fantastical beasts that threatened the common folk of the land. Though Black was just an ordinary soldier at the time, he had always proved to be a loyal and valuable asset. The veteran had worked hard over the years and had surely been rewarded by his appreciative lord; he was now a top ranking officer with his own son elevated to the rank of captain quickly – partially a favor to his father and partially with the hope that determination and a faithful heart were hereditary.
The three leaders of House Zolomon continued along the trail, planning on arriving at the fortress of the Order of Schlucht before too long. Eros hoped to have time to check in with his old allies before any other heroes arrived to join him in this all important quest. House Zolomon owed the knights of the Order a great deal of gratitude for the protection they offered from barbarians, monsters or any other of the multitude of threats in this dangerous land. The smallfolk of House Zolomon had lived in relative security over the years because of the knights' valiant efforts. The fort was just coming into view when one of Eros's outriders came charging back down the path, both rider and horse panting hard. The scout reported immediately to his lord. Eros knew the man – he knew each of his soldiers by name – as Iravan, a stoic, experienced warrior. Whatever had this well-traveled veteran so frightened must be serious indeed.
“My Lord! My Lord! The order.. they're... the knights.. barbarians.. dead..” Iravan spluttered and tripped over his words, trying to say everything at once. He took a moment to gather himself and explained to the gathered Zolomon leaders about what he had witnessed just up the road.
The Order of Schlucht was no more. In its place was a host of abominations to the natural order of the world itself. What used to be men – sons, fathers, friends – were now ghastly creatures, animated skeletons still adorned with traces of their past lives. The shattered remnants of the knights' armor hung from emaciated carcasses, and some of the animated dead even sported tattered furs and bloody axes. The horrified lord figured that there must have been a battle that prompted this grizzly scene; the fort had obviously been sieged by barbarians, but living or dead, Eros couldn't tell.
What mattered now was that both sides were indeed dead. The only thing left was to put these obscenities to rest.
_____________________________________
“Another volley on the first battlement!” The arcane marksman's voice rang clear over the sounds of bowstrings thrumming and arrows skipping off stone, and just as their lord commanded, the ranged specialists that constituted Eros Zolomon's elite guard unleashed a concentrated barrage of enchanted arrows at the group of skeletons throwing and shooting various projectiles from the nearest tower. Normal arrows wouldn't have much of an effect on the undead, so the House Zolomon archers were forced to be innovative. Each arrow was coated in an extremely combustible oil that would explode in flames after the slightest impact. To avoid arrows exploding from wind resistance, Eros enchanted them with a short-lived magical shield and dispelled the shields of each volley the instant before collision.
Each volley further ruined significant portions of the castle, sending flaming skeletons tumbling down to crash and crumble on the rocks below. The archers continued the assault from on top a narrow precipice while a score of the ordinary house soldiers defended the two pathways leading to Eros and his guard's vantage point. Wielding hammers and maces, the soldiers engaged and smashed to pieces every undead that drew too near. The legendary lord watched his company with satisfaction as he ordered in yet another volley. He knew that he wasn't going to overtake this emaciated army with one assault, but he was confident that his course of action would take its toll on his enemy without posing a significant danger to his retinue.
The Zolomon archers continued their destructive rain until one barrage collapsed the only remaining portion of the southernmost wall. There was already a sizable hole from previous sieges, and the explosive volley only widened the hole and cleared away the rubble. Eros didn't think anything of the new development until the smoked cleared from the previous barrage; what he saw then made him lower his bow and stare.
Just behind the hole, an immense mob of the skeletons had been congregating, pushing and jostling for position, fighting hungrily to be the first out the wall. When the rubble was cleared and the last of the wall destroyed, a dozen or so skeletons were crushed; however, scores upon scores of the fiends remained, crawling over their fallen, burning comrades and pouring out of the hole.
Eros and his lieutenants immediately started barking orders, Zolomon soldiers scrambling in every direction. Their position was defensible, but there is only so much benefit location can give against a veritable horde of ravenous, unfeeling monsters.
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