From last session.....
The party are leaders of a fledgling resistance against the Herald and his powerful new god, the White Star. The party has traveled the land in an attempt to seek aid and forge new alliances with the Dwarves and Elves, but these ancient races are mired in problems of their own. Only a significant event can rally these disparate groups together against the new popular religion.
In the meantime, the resistance have scrapped together a secret village hideout under the watchful eye of the former rebel, Angus. Together with the shady yet charismatic Amos Caely they have begun to spin a web of spies and informers that stretch out across the Empire. The ambassador of the elvish Wilder Wood, Mialee Liadon, has recently arrived and promises to use her magic to help the resistance, and the dwarves from Kale have nearly finished their network of underground tunnels under the village of Villageham (ably re-hydrated by the flamboyant Bolgar).
The party have entered the city of Dragonspur, the capital of the Empire of Nuovo Arkhosia, without incident (surprisingly) and immediately began to search for the famous blacksmith Drake Johnson, a former associate of Ceasus. They managed to track down his workshop but the magical blacksmith was nowhere to be found. Instead they found research notes for a sword and shield combination that has some decidedly explosive results.
Suddenly the party was ambushed by some drow while resting at Amos' safe-house at the city's edge. The drow were wielding some of the explosive weapons, presumably made by Drake, but they also had a magical rod that seemed to rip the soul out of weakened mortals and then revived them as ghostly warriors. One of the drow managed to escape with the rod when the shields underwent spontaneous combustion, leaving the safe-house damaged and burning. It was here that the monk-for-hire Isa joined the party after she assassinated the atheistic cultist that had betrayed the party.
The party were about to be cornered as the back-up began to arrive, but Jinn was able to create a diversion by starting a fire on a distant building. The quick thinking of Ceasus made the panicked villagers think that the fire was caused by extremists of the White Star. Other villagers were able to see the slow clunking of Arkaxus retreating into the night, and now believe that the fire was caused by the Dragonborn. A riot brewed, lit up by the flames of burning city.
Regardless, the new party member Isa was able to find a safe retreat for the party to revive themselves. Talk started about what to do next, and Jinn brought up the mission of retrieving the Green Orb for the dragon Duskinicin. What better time than now to storm the Empire's magic tower, while the rest of the city's forces deals with the citizen's riot?
Sunday 26 June 2016
Monday 20 June 2016
Terror of the Green Copse
"FORWARD....."
Fujimarius Gojira imperceptibly shifted his weight onto his right foot in preparation for the order, just like the 120 other soldiers that together formed a Shotatus. All around Fujimarius stood thousands of other Orlandic warriors, called the Shomeni in their native language, and every single warrior was waiting in anticipation for coming battle and the honour it brings. There is no other fighting force in the known world that could match the disciplined effectiveness of an army from the river island of Orland, a reputation that Fujimarius considered a severe understatement.
It was this reputation that led Fujimarius and his fellow Shomeni to the western edge of the Empire, far beyond the safety of the Wall and deep inside the barren landscape known as the Wasteland. The barbaric remnants of the old faith have once again gravely offended The Herald, ruler of the Empire of Nuovo Arkhosia, and so the faithful people of Orland organised a full Sho of the finest 25 Shotati units and deployed them against the savages to protect the honour of the Empire and the Herald.
"... MARCH!"
The left foot of Fujimarius shot out 75 centimeters in front for his first step. His right foot covered the same distance, and he repeated the movements at a steady pace of 120 steps per minute. The precise motion of the march was imprinted into every Shomenus so that the thousands of Orlandic warriors moved as if they were one. The *clomp* of each simultaneous step formed a continuous beat that played behind the rhythms of the metallic *clinks* as the overlapping bands of iron-plated armour clashed against each other. The thousands of Shomeni were united in this music of war. This music of Orland.
Every Orlander began their rigorous daily training from the moment the sun rose on their 16th summer. They wore their armour from dawn to dusk, they mastered the art of the sword and shield, and they lived and breathed military theory. War was the only proper profession for an Orlander, ever since their ancestors from beyond the southern seas fought and won the river island that Fujimarius proudly calls home. For as long as Fujimarius can remember he and his friends dreamed of rising up through the ranks to become Shogus of their very own Sho.
The menial work of society was left for the inferior Velati, the subjugated natives of the land ruled by Orland. The original natives were too weak to protect themselves, and so the Orlanders provide the necessary strength and leadership while the Velati work the fields, baked the bread and forged the weapons. But the Orlanders are a society that rewards ability, and a few privileged Velati manage to earn the honour of fighting alongside the Shomeni as skirmishers and cavalry. Even fewer manage to earn the right to rise up the ranks and be honoured as a proper Orlander. Fujimarius came from such a family, as his great grandfather Gojira was a Velati warrior that had saved a Shogus from certain death. Fujimarius fingered the familial amulet hanging under his tunic, the amulet that Gojira was given when he earned his full citizenship.
It is now Fujimarius' turn to fight for the honour of the Gojira family on behalf of the Empire and the Herald. The Empire is the only nation for true believers of the White Star, as the Herald is the link between mere mortals and the all-powerful White Star. The old kingdoms rallied to the Herald's banner when the White Star revealed his power by utterly destroying the old gods. The Herald allowed the Council of Shogi to continue their governance over Orland and the Velati, and in return the Shomeni will fight for the Empire. Fujimarius now has the chance to bring further honour to the Gojira family by eliminating the contemptible pagan belief that the old gods will return.
Fujimarius took a moment to take in the surrounding landscape of The Wasteland. It was a barren expanse of hills and overgrown grassy plains, with barely a village or farmstead in sight. The cowardly barbarians have again refused to engage the Orlanders in open battle, instead retreating further and further north. The savages are now forced to retreat into the heavily forested area known as the Green Copse, an ironic name for a forest that extends out for kilometers. The brutes had hoped that the trees and the elves will be able to protect them from the sharp Orlandic blades; how wrong they were.
Fujimarius' Shotatus slowed it's march as it entered the Green Copse, as the Shomeni automatically adjusted their formation to allow them to pass the trees. The sun was already partially blocked because of the Rip-In-Sky, but the ancient trees loomed high above their heads and blocked more of the dim light. A few of the Shomeni ignited the magical torches given to them by the magicians from Dragonspur, and the forest came alive in a blue-green light. A brief gasp from in front of Fujimarius caused him to look up.
The trees all around the Shomeni were splattered with blood, and limp corpses hung from the branches. The Shotatus slowed further as it approached the torn remains of what Fujimarius assumes used to be a human beings. Leather armour was ripped to shreds and revealed pulpy red flesh that barely clung to bone. A quickly whispered prayer to the White Star escaped from Fujimarius, and several Shomeni traced the sign of the Star over their left breast. Fear started to grip the once fearless warriors as they realized they have just stepped into the aftermath of a brutal massacre.
Suddenly there was a shout from the Shotatus on the far left of the Sho formation, followed closely by a blood-curdling cry. Fujimarius' step faltered, and the usually straight battle-line of the Sho staggered as a sudden fear gripped every single warrior. Fujimarius turned towards the sound and strained his eyes to see the cause of such terror, but all he could see was random pockets of Shomeni fighting an unseen enemy.
Then suddenly it was also upon him.
Out of seemingly nothing a small purple-skinned, hairless humanoid appeared in front of Fujimarius. It was a gruesome sight to behold, with gnarled claws and sharp teeth. It sunk it's claws deep into the first Shomenus it could see, a warrior that Fujimarius had known since his first training session. The foul creature let out a howl that matched the intensity of the victim's pained scream.
Fujimarius clumsily drew his sword as his fellow warrior fell unconscious from the pain, and the creature turned it's beady eyes towards him. It's lips turned upward in a grotesque imitation of a smile, and Fujimarius placed his shield in between him and that terrible image. And then, with a sudden pop, the creature disappeared completely. Fujimarius quickly turned around to see if the creature had popped up behind him, but it was nowhere to be found.
"...FOULSPAWN... TO ARMS! FIGHT!"
Fujimarius had heard of rumours about the Foulspawn, an infernal terror from another plane of existence. He had never believed those stories, thinking they were tales to frighten little children. But it had only been a couple of seconds and already dozens of Shomeni had fallen to the ambush of these very real horrors. Blood suddenly splashed onto Fujimarius' right cheek as a warrior received a blow to the neck that almost ripped his head from his body. The cackling Foulspawn then disappeared from view before Fujimarius could even retaliate, leaving behind the blood-soaked remains of the its prey. It was complete and utter madness. It was a massacre.
The usually solid formation of the Sho fell completely apart as the warriors tried to fight against an enemy that can appear and disappear at will. Some warriors huddled back-to-back in an attempt to avoid being flanked. Others tried to find an open space with solid ground so that they could fight unimpeded. The dishonourable tried to retreat, but their cowardice was met with claws and sword blade alike.
Fujimarius plucked a javelin from the dead fingers of a fellow warrior and fell into the familiar spear stance. He hoped that the extra length of the javelin will allow him to hit the enemy before it had a chance to disappear. His courage rose when he saw the dead body of one of the Foulspawn, sword blade lodged deep into it's chest.
So these things can be killed!
A loud roar rang out from deep in the forest, followed by the ground-shaking *thuds* of a large beast running. Fujimarius turn his javelin-point towards the noise, holding his shield up high. He was joined by four other Shomeni, and each of them prepared themselves for whatever was about to burst out from that cursed forest.
Then they could see it, a large humanoid figure that was almost the size of a giant. It's red skin was pulsating, and it's lip-less mouth showed rows of sharp blood-stained teeth. And it was coming towards them at a speed that was impossible for a creature of it's size. Fujimarius steeled his nerves and prepared for impact.
The creature ran straight into the point of Fujimarius' javelin and drove it all the way to the hilt. Fujimarius was knocked aside while the thing's giant hand wrapped around the unfortunate soldier on his left. The warrior valiantly stabbed at the wrist of the creature with his sword, but Fujimarius could hear the sickening sound of bones being crushed. He scrambled to his feet, searching for the first weapon he could find so that he could join the other Shomeni as they vainly tried to save the poor warrior from being crushed.
He was stopped in his tracks as one of the smaller Foulspawn suddenly appeared with a *pop* right in front of Fujimarius. He could smell the rotting flesh on the breath of the foul creature, and it's beady eyes stared right through to Fujimarius' soul. With no hint of emotion the creature dug it's claws deep into Fujimarius' abdomen.
Fujimarius suppressed a cry of pain and instead placed his hands on either side of the creature's head. He then dug his thumbs deep into the thing's eyes, and took perverse pleasure from it's shrieks of pain. He used all of his rapidly fleeting strength to hold on as the creature tried to escape. A tingle spread quickly throughout Fujimarius' body as the world went suddenly black with *pop*. Most of Fujimarius' senses went numb, but he could still feel the flesh beneath his hands so he clung on.
Then he was back in reality, far from where he originally was. He was glad to see that his thumbs were still dug in deep into the foul creature. At his feet there he noticed the glint of a dagger blade, and so Fujimarius adjusted his left thumb so that he could hook in deeper while he reached for the weapon. The creature's claws furiously tried the remove his grip, causing deeper and deeper lacerations. But Fujimarius was not going to die without taking this thing with him. He finally managed to reach the dagger and drive it deep into the forehead of the creature, and with a shudder the Foulspawn went completely limp.
Fujimarius collapsed, resigning himself to death. He noticed a couple of nearby Foulspawn start head towards his direction. He closed his eyes and muttered a prayer to the White Star for an honourable death.
A sudden *fwoosh* cause him to open his eyes, and he saw that arrows were now sticking out of the approaching Foulspawn. A rustle nearby revealed the figure of an Elf, drawing their bow in preparation for another shot. An armoured elf burst out of the underbrush and removed the stopper from a potion bottle he carried. He forced the harsh liquid down Fujimarius' throat, and he suddenly felt rejuvenated and more alert.
"Who... who are you?", croaked Fujimarius.
The elf made some hand signals before looking down at the Orlandic warrior.
"My name is Perathorn. Do not speak, you need to rest," he said as a couple of elvish warriors emerged from the forest with a stretcher.
Perathorn said something in elvish, and the two new elves nodded and gently lifted Fujimarius into the stretcher. They lifted him up and carried him away from the furious battle. Fujimarius was only able to catch glimpses of the battle, but could tell that the Foulspawn still had the upper-hand despite the help of the elves.
"Where... where..... where are you taking me?", Fujimarius stammered.
The elf in front did not even turn around to reply. "Hush. You are being taken to The Sanctuary. The Librarian will be able to heal you. Then you will tell us about the outside world"
Fujimarius barely could make out the last couple of words before his whole world went black as pain overtook him and he fell into unconsciousness.
Fujimarius Gojira imperceptibly shifted his weight onto his right foot in preparation for the order, just like the 120 other soldiers that together formed a Shotatus. All around Fujimarius stood thousands of other Orlandic warriors, called the Shomeni in their native language, and every single warrior was waiting in anticipation for coming battle and the honour it brings. There is no other fighting force in the known world that could match the disciplined effectiveness of an army from the river island of Orland, a reputation that Fujimarius considered a severe understatement.
It was this reputation that led Fujimarius and his fellow Shomeni to the western edge of the Empire, far beyond the safety of the Wall and deep inside the barren landscape known as the Wasteland. The barbaric remnants of the old faith have once again gravely offended The Herald, ruler of the Empire of Nuovo Arkhosia, and so the faithful people of Orland organised a full Sho of the finest 25 Shotati units and deployed them against the savages to protect the honour of the Empire and the Herald.
"... MARCH!"
The left foot of Fujimarius shot out 75 centimeters in front for his first step. His right foot covered the same distance, and he repeated the movements at a steady pace of 120 steps per minute. The precise motion of the march was imprinted into every Shomenus so that the thousands of Orlandic warriors moved as if they were one. The *clomp* of each simultaneous step formed a continuous beat that played behind the rhythms of the metallic *clinks* as the overlapping bands of iron-plated armour clashed against each other. The thousands of Shomeni were united in this music of war. This music of Orland.
Every Orlander began their rigorous daily training from the moment the sun rose on their 16th summer. They wore their armour from dawn to dusk, they mastered the art of the sword and shield, and they lived and breathed military theory. War was the only proper profession for an Orlander, ever since their ancestors from beyond the southern seas fought and won the river island that Fujimarius proudly calls home. For as long as Fujimarius can remember he and his friends dreamed of rising up through the ranks to become Shogus of their very own Sho.
The menial work of society was left for the inferior Velati, the subjugated natives of the land ruled by Orland. The original natives were too weak to protect themselves, and so the Orlanders provide the necessary strength and leadership while the Velati work the fields, baked the bread and forged the weapons. But the Orlanders are a society that rewards ability, and a few privileged Velati manage to earn the honour of fighting alongside the Shomeni as skirmishers and cavalry. Even fewer manage to earn the right to rise up the ranks and be honoured as a proper Orlander. Fujimarius came from such a family, as his great grandfather Gojira was a Velati warrior that had saved a Shogus from certain death. Fujimarius fingered the familial amulet hanging under his tunic, the amulet that Gojira was given when he earned his full citizenship.
It is now Fujimarius' turn to fight for the honour of the Gojira family on behalf of the Empire and the Herald. The Empire is the only nation for true believers of the White Star, as the Herald is the link between mere mortals and the all-powerful White Star. The old kingdoms rallied to the Herald's banner when the White Star revealed his power by utterly destroying the old gods. The Herald allowed the Council of Shogi to continue their governance over Orland and the Velati, and in return the Shomeni will fight for the Empire. Fujimarius now has the chance to bring further honour to the Gojira family by eliminating the contemptible pagan belief that the old gods will return.
Fujimarius took a moment to take in the surrounding landscape of The Wasteland. It was a barren expanse of hills and overgrown grassy plains, with barely a village or farmstead in sight. The cowardly barbarians have again refused to engage the Orlanders in open battle, instead retreating further and further north. The savages are now forced to retreat into the heavily forested area known as the Green Copse, an ironic name for a forest that extends out for kilometers. The brutes had hoped that the trees and the elves will be able to protect them from the sharp Orlandic blades; how wrong they were.
Fujimarius' Shotatus slowed it's march as it entered the Green Copse, as the Shomeni automatically adjusted their formation to allow them to pass the trees. The sun was already partially blocked because of the Rip-In-Sky, but the ancient trees loomed high above their heads and blocked more of the dim light. A few of the Shomeni ignited the magical torches given to them by the magicians from Dragonspur, and the forest came alive in a blue-green light. A brief gasp from in front of Fujimarius caused him to look up.
The trees all around the Shomeni were splattered with blood, and limp corpses hung from the branches. The Shotatus slowed further as it approached the torn remains of what Fujimarius assumes used to be a human beings. Leather armour was ripped to shreds and revealed pulpy red flesh that barely clung to bone. A quickly whispered prayer to the White Star escaped from Fujimarius, and several Shomeni traced the sign of the Star over their left breast. Fear started to grip the once fearless warriors as they realized they have just stepped into the aftermath of a brutal massacre.
Suddenly there was a shout from the Shotatus on the far left of the Sho formation, followed closely by a blood-curdling cry. Fujimarius' step faltered, and the usually straight battle-line of the Sho staggered as a sudden fear gripped every single warrior. Fujimarius turned towards the sound and strained his eyes to see the cause of such terror, but all he could see was random pockets of Shomeni fighting an unseen enemy.
Then suddenly it was also upon him.
Out of seemingly nothing a small purple-skinned, hairless humanoid appeared in front of Fujimarius. It was a gruesome sight to behold, with gnarled claws and sharp teeth. It sunk it's claws deep into the first Shomenus it could see, a warrior that Fujimarius had known since his first training session. The foul creature let out a howl that matched the intensity of the victim's pained scream.
Fujimarius clumsily drew his sword as his fellow warrior fell unconscious from the pain, and the creature turned it's beady eyes towards him. It's lips turned upward in a grotesque imitation of a smile, and Fujimarius placed his shield in between him and that terrible image. And then, with a sudden pop, the creature disappeared completely. Fujimarius quickly turned around to see if the creature had popped up behind him, but it was nowhere to be found.
"...FOULSPAWN... TO ARMS! FIGHT!"
Fujimarius had heard of rumours about the Foulspawn, an infernal terror from another plane of existence. He had never believed those stories, thinking they were tales to frighten little children. But it had only been a couple of seconds and already dozens of Shomeni had fallen to the ambush of these very real horrors. Blood suddenly splashed onto Fujimarius' right cheek as a warrior received a blow to the neck that almost ripped his head from his body. The cackling Foulspawn then disappeared from view before Fujimarius could even retaliate, leaving behind the blood-soaked remains of the its prey. It was complete and utter madness. It was a massacre.
The usually solid formation of the Sho fell completely apart as the warriors tried to fight against an enemy that can appear and disappear at will. Some warriors huddled back-to-back in an attempt to avoid being flanked. Others tried to find an open space with solid ground so that they could fight unimpeded. The dishonourable tried to retreat, but their cowardice was met with claws and sword blade alike.
Fujimarius plucked a javelin from the dead fingers of a fellow warrior and fell into the familiar spear stance. He hoped that the extra length of the javelin will allow him to hit the enemy before it had a chance to disappear. His courage rose when he saw the dead body of one of the Foulspawn, sword blade lodged deep into it's chest.
So these things can be killed!
A loud roar rang out from deep in the forest, followed by the ground-shaking *thuds* of a large beast running. Fujimarius turn his javelin-point towards the noise, holding his shield up high. He was joined by four other Shomeni, and each of them prepared themselves for whatever was about to burst out from that cursed forest.
Then they could see it, a large humanoid figure that was almost the size of a giant. It's red skin was pulsating, and it's lip-less mouth showed rows of sharp blood-stained teeth. And it was coming towards them at a speed that was impossible for a creature of it's size. Fujimarius steeled his nerves and prepared for impact.
The creature ran straight into the point of Fujimarius' javelin and drove it all the way to the hilt. Fujimarius was knocked aside while the thing's giant hand wrapped around the unfortunate soldier on his left. The warrior valiantly stabbed at the wrist of the creature with his sword, but Fujimarius could hear the sickening sound of bones being crushed. He scrambled to his feet, searching for the first weapon he could find so that he could join the other Shomeni as they vainly tried to save the poor warrior from being crushed.
He was stopped in his tracks as one of the smaller Foulspawn suddenly appeared with a *pop* right in front of Fujimarius. He could smell the rotting flesh on the breath of the foul creature, and it's beady eyes stared right through to Fujimarius' soul. With no hint of emotion the creature dug it's claws deep into Fujimarius' abdomen.
Fujimarius suppressed a cry of pain and instead placed his hands on either side of the creature's head. He then dug his thumbs deep into the thing's eyes, and took perverse pleasure from it's shrieks of pain. He used all of his rapidly fleeting strength to hold on as the creature tried to escape. A tingle spread quickly throughout Fujimarius' body as the world went suddenly black with *pop*. Most of Fujimarius' senses went numb, but he could still feel the flesh beneath his hands so he clung on.
Then he was back in reality, far from where he originally was. He was glad to see that his thumbs were still dug in deep into the foul creature. At his feet there he noticed the glint of a dagger blade, and so Fujimarius adjusted his left thumb so that he could hook in deeper while he reached for the weapon. The creature's claws furiously tried the remove his grip, causing deeper and deeper lacerations. But Fujimarius was not going to die without taking this thing with him. He finally managed to reach the dagger and drive it deep into the forehead of the creature, and with a shudder the Foulspawn went completely limp.
Fujimarius collapsed, resigning himself to death. He noticed a couple of nearby Foulspawn start head towards his direction. He closed his eyes and muttered a prayer to the White Star for an honourable death.
A sudden *fwoosh* cause him to open his eyes, and he saw that arrows were now sticking out of the approaching Foulspawn. A rustle nearby revealed the figure of an Elf, drawing their bow in preparation for another shot. An armoured elf burst out of the underbrush and removed the stopper from a potion bottle he carried. He forced the harsh liquid down Fujimarius' throat, and he suddenly felt rejuvenated and more alert.
"Who... who are you?", croaked Fujimarius.
The elf made some hand signals before looking down at the Orlandic warrior.
"My name is Perathorn. Do not speak, you need to rest," he said as a couple of elvish warriors emerged from the forest with a stretcher.
Perathorn said something in elvish, and the two new elves nodded and gently lifted Fujimarius into the stretcher. They lifted him up and carried him away from the furious battle. Fujimarius was only able to catch glimpses of the battle, but could tell that the Foulspawn still had the upper-hand despite the help of the elves.
"Where... where..... where are you taking me?", Fujimarius stammered.
The elf in front did not even turn around to reply. "Hush. You are being taken to The Sanctuary. The Librarian will be able to heal you. Then you will tell us about the outside world"
Fujimarius barely could make out the last couple of words before his whole world went black as pain overtook him and he fell into unconsciousness.
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