Fog of War

[Raksha]

When the news came, it spread like wildfire. We’ve found the cultists. We’ve found the Cube. We can strike them before they attack the City!

Months of invesitgation into the odd artifact that had fallen into the Triumvirate’s hands, tendays more of chaos and disorder as Genum’s Cube served the purposes of Malagent Xithos. Entire villages burned, or worse yet unburned -- haunted monuments inhabited by rotting corpses and the shadows left by Xithis’ plague. It had all come down to this hour, a desperate last chance to attack the Talonites’ stronghold and put an end to the threat that descended over Sundren.

The gathered force recalled the days when the Legion had marched to war against the Bloodmaims, before the savage orcs had been confined to the forest. Two Evocati, Twenty-Two and Seventy, led two hundred Legionaires of the Third Legion, drawn mostly from patrol and garrison units in the Sunderian heartland. Myrios Tala Melarchus had been spoiling for this fight, consulting with Vaer Vitori and the Red Blades on tactics to use against the shadow horde and Xithis’ other attendant creatures. Scholii and Clinicus stood among the ranks, distributed to provide protection against blades and foul energy. Every soldier marched north with a clear purpose, full of the confidence and vigor that easy duty will breed. Almost none of them had experienced firsthand the horrors that the Lady of Poison had already visited on the land.

Some cursed the Triumvirate for letting the artifact slip out of their grasp. Eager to reclaim a piece of their lost honor, and deal the forces of evil a telling blow, the Temple spared two dozen paladins and priests under the joint command of Noble Judicators Tamryn Jorandur and Hano Fetten. Though few in number, they were filled to a man with zeal and a burning desire to see Xithis and the Cube put to rest forever. Hard experience tempered enthusiasm, however. Perhaps best of all those represented, they realized that the fight ahead would not be easy.

Of the hundred Everwatch Knights that had originally been dispatched to search, only fifty could be recalled in time to stand with the assault, lending their swords and shields to the effort. Past words regarding the Triumvirate and the Hands were laid to rest; the Helmites were there to fulfil their one great command: defend Sundren. The armored elite took a central position in the march, preparing to anchor the line against the counterattacks of the hated enemy.

Only a handful of Vitori’s Saints of the Sword could be spared from their duties to stand by the assault. The ten Adepts, four Defenders and Avenger that formed the cadre, however, guarded an entire flank of the advancing line, and no one present doubted their ability to see the job done. Their presence firmed the wavering Legionaires, filling Sundren’s forces with confidence.

And then there were the mercenaries. Adventurers, freelancers, and unaffiliated do-gooders, sprinkled throughout the advance. Though clad in a bewildering variety of armor, most of it Exigo product or second-hand reconditioned from the armories of their enemies, they found themselves bound by the purpose of seeing Genum’s Cube neutralized or returned to its rightful place. For some, the offer of a thousand stags for those who would help was a great sum indeed; for others, it was paltry next to what truly motivated them.

Opening Moves

No one had bothered to name the mountain where the battle took place. It was one more peak near the Spine, insignificant next to its towering neighbors. It serviced no trade routes, and provided nothing but one more little triangle for cartographers to plot on their parchment maps.

It would not stay nameless past the evening’s events.

Even before the force could fully join up at the base, a tide of shadows descended on the ranks of Sundren’s defenders. Xithis’ plans became frighteningly clear; the plagues that he had unleashed on the village only had the fortunate side effect of causing such misery and desolation. They had provided him with an entire expendable army of yowling spirits, indivdually weak but insubstantial, their touch carrying death’s chill. Sprinkled among them, larger shadows pooled from groups of smaller ones, forming bodies three times the height of a man. These “Nightwalkers” rained magic down on the soldiers. Fear broke the lines, and death-spells singled out those who stood. A counter-charge from the elements of divine support successfully defeated the first wave, but more came. And more. And more still, and the Tormites and adventurers that had thrown themselves into the fray found themselves cut off.

The Legion’s Aenators rallied the infantry. Newly reformed, the formation plowed through the mass of shadow, striking as a single creature with two hundred bright steel teeth. Those who had forged ahead managed to rejoin, and the advance continued.

But The Voices Told Me So

Atop the rise, Xithis looked down on the battle. His minions were despairing. How could they withstand such force and have enough left to launch the promised attack? How could they even withstand the tide of martial might that was even now cleaning up the last of the wave of expendable shadows?

Xithis held no such worries. The whisper of the Cube had become a roar in his ears. He proclaimed to his followers that the time had come to unleash upon the world the ultimate plague -- the ultimate terror.

It was time to open the Cube.

One man spoke up. Ulric shot him through the eye, and there were no more dissenters.

In the shadows, an elf surrounded by wisps of shadow smiled and slipped away. Soon, their brethren would be arriving to aid in the cause.

While the battle continued to play out at the base of the mountain, the Sunderian line approaching the base of the trail closer and closer, Malagent Xithis and his handful of remaining followers focused their effort on breaching the seals that held away the avatar of a mad god. Soon, the battle would be of no consequence at all. Soon, darkness and terror and plague would subsume the entire land, and the Lady of Poison would be pleased…

Unto the Breach

The Legion’s forces and their allies came to the base of the mountain, and saw at once that the assault would be… problematic. Cut up the winding slope was a single trail, serviced only by rickety bridges. Two at most, perhaps three, could pass up it side by side. The entire mustered might of arms could bring only a fraction of its force to bear against the enemy.

As the Red Blades and forces of the Triumvirate made the first thrust, parting the shadow elementals and corrupted treants that stood guard over the path, shadow portals opened. Out of them stepped the forces of the Moth Oira, shade-touched elves and even greater elementals, fell flying things with fangs that rent magic and bone. They fell on the column from either side, once again cutting off the advance element. Hastily, the Legion and the Helmites formed up into a defensive square, but there could be no advance against the massive forces pressing into them. The shadow portals had to be closed!

Adventurers broke out of the square, fighting through the shadows to reach one. The other was reached by parts of the advance force that similarly managed to break through the shadows that had pinned them down. Dispel and breach spells rained down upon the portals, and the flow of shadows ebbed. Sensing that the position was lost, but that their broader goal had been accomplished, the Moth Oira faded back up the mountain. The rocky terrain hindered them little, if at all.

The Sunderians rallied for another push, but a new threat confronted them: paragon shadows, tiny slinking creatures that struck with ferocity borrowed from the avatar that now lay only half-contained at the top of the hill. They plowed into the ranks of the advance party, forcing them back down the hill while leaving too many of their number rent and bleeding on the path. Fewer than half of the paladins and Blades who had started the push were able to link up with the Legion.

[Raksha]

Last, Best Hope

Sensing that the break of the Sunderian forces was not far away, the Moth Oira and the Talonites alike threw the bulk of their forces down the mountain in a play to keep the attack from breaching the trail at all. Even the veterans of the Everwatch Knights grew grim, seeing the force arrayed against them -- but at the top of the hill, swirling motes of shadow and power signified that the Cube was cracking more and more. Time was short.

There was no choice. They not only had to hold, but to advance.

In the midst of the battle, the grizzled red-armored figure with a greatsword light in his hand made his way to the Evocati. The three conferred for a moment, and those who weren’t at the moment fighting for their lives turned to watch…

And then, as one, they broke into the shadows in a spearhead, greatsword and bastard swords flashing in an intricate woven web of steel. The shadows melted before them, and they made headway, forming a chink in the enemy’s line.

The survivors of the push flooded in behind, widening the gap, forcing back the enemy’s most powerful shadows to begin forming a lane to the base of the mountain.

There were too many of the shadows and treants and elves, who now joined the fight in earnest, their fell arrows and blades falling into the ranks of those who were defying the combined might of Talona and Shar. It seemed impossible, even with the awesome skill of the three best warriors in the entire force, that the pressure could abate long enough for any to pass --

What happened next is not entirely clear, but the remaining survivors who were close enough to see testified that some shadowed figure with a scythe cut into the back of the mass, slicing shadow-stuff and corrupted wood like so much chaff. There was no figure recorded at the battle to fit the description. Some whisper that it was the ghost of Kharaz, the former commander of the Alliance, come to serve his nation yet again. Some speculate that Ditus Il’Koresh had come to collect his promised due from the Talonites. And others remain convinced that it was only a phantasm created by one of the Hands, perhaps Zam. Whatever the case, the easing of pressure was just enough to finish forming the lane. Unengaged adventurers, a ragtag band, poured through to storm the slope; many of the best blades were occupied in keeping the way open for them, preventing more than a handful from making their way through.

And then… the battle turned again. Evocatos Twenty-Two, swamped by no fewer than three paragon shadows and a Nightwalker, fell to the attacks, and was swept under the horde. The loss of his blade staggered the line -- and then it collapsed, trapping those who had been holding the lane in a swirling chaos of blade and shadow. Their efforts had allowed a few up the mountain… but would it be enough?

The Beginning of the End…

Only a relative token force of Sharans and Talonites remained to guard the mountain passes, but for those that had been swept ahead it was a sore test without the support of their allies. Of what transpired on the mountain passes, little is known beyond the accounts of those who survived it themselves.

Below, in the battle, the main force had swamped and broken apart Sundren’s line, and it had degenerated into melee. Here and there, blades wielded by surpassing skill or divine might cut through the horde to bring their bearers back-to-back with allies, but for every shadow felled more sprang up. The divine essence of the Lady of Loss was now beginning to suffuse the area, and it became clear that no lasting victory would be possible now unless the Cube was shut.

Prayer, now, was the recourse of those who were trapped, and those who were even now making their way up to the mountain, and their prayers were answered with light from above. A solar of Lathander and celestial allies came down to oppose the tide of shadow, just as they had at Sestra. The tide of battle at the base of the mountain shifted back in favor of Sundren’s defenders.

It was too little and too late. At the top of the mountain, the cube split open. Shadow danced and gathered, blossoming out into a cloud that loomed over those gathered. The avatar had been unleashed, and the feeling of power and darkness in the air made it absolutely clear that what everyone had feared had come to pass -- Shar’s avatar was loose, and she was unhappy.

…Is Still A Beginning

In that hour of need and impending doom, differences were cast aside, and everyone prayed. Exalted and vile, mercenary and altruistic, all prayed for the coming doom to be stayed.

Lathander, lord of the dawn, heard the prayers. He saw the imbalance of one avatar, unopposed, about to rain bloody armageddon on an entire land.

And his servant Zaz heeded the call. There was light, of that everyone can agree -- light so pure and cleansing that even the avatar of the goddess of night could not stand against it. Shadow and light warred over the mountain, and light cast it down -- the sacrifice of the solar setting off a chain of events that flung the remnants of the shadow essence onto the peak of the mountain.

It imploded. An entire mountain buckled in, rock burning away. Shards flew for miles, and the ground trembled and split. The lucky survivors fled, and kept fleeing, until at last what had once been a mountan now was left a smoldering crater.

The taint had obliterated all life. A cloud of shadow essence hung over the site of the battle. The avatar had been destroyed, and the fragments of the Cube recovered.

Aftermath

n It remains to be seen what this new site, already being called Shar’s Abbadon, will bring. However, the taint of the profane essence has obviously deeply touched the ruined mountain. It is unlikely that normal life will ever thrive there again in the current age.

n Overall, the consensus is “it could have been worse. A lot worse.” If the Cube had been opened in the city, it likely would have levelled it and slaughtered every living thing within. It is possible that the events that led it out of the hands of the Triumvirate were actually for the best. Whether this is providence of the gods or Paladins Being Morons is up for personal debate.

n The Legion was hardest hit. All of the wounded that could not be carried in the retreat were lost. Fewer than forty of the original soldiers lived. Beyond the heavy loss, however, is the realization that yet another area must now be patrolled and guarded. Already spread thin, the Legion faces hard times as it tries to simultaenously protect from every threat while satisfying the people. The most keen of the losses was that of Evocatos Twenty-Two, though it is likely that another will soon join the ranks of the Evocati.

n Four paladins and two priests of the Triumvirate survived, as well as the Noble Judicators that led them. The Temple of the Triumvirate mourns its losses, but gives thanks for the sacrifice of the solar. Some have even spoken of building a shrine to Lathander in honor of the sacrifice, and in order to try to recruit followers of the Morninglord into the Triumvirate’s ranks.

n Nine of the Blades survived, making their kill-to-loss ratio the best by far among the allied forces. Their reputation was preserved and upheld by the timely application of force that allowed the advance team to scale the mountain.

n Thirty-five of the Everwatch Knights lived through the battle, a slight sticking point between them and the services that suffered greater losses. Throughout the fight they held a defensive position, and never threw themselves into the headlong charges that had caused greater losses among the others. Some mutter about cowardice; the Helmites maintain that without their backing of the line, the force would have been routed and slaughtered.

[Raksha]

// This is the official RP thread for the larger combat that surrounded the event. Please note that details may yet be changed. I just wanted to get something up so that people could set their involvement as soon as they could.

// The rules on godmoding are slightly relaxed here. Interact with other soldiers as you like, and feel free to stabbify monsters. Remember, however, that with the possible exception of lesser shadows, none of the things here are Japanese anime grunts to be slaughtered by the dozen.

// We like quality RP over "lol i kill evrything" so feel free to put in fear, doubt, running and all of those other things. I've deliberately left a lot of points open to expand in the account.

[Gabryal]

Kathryn reads over the battle reports and the lists of the fallen. She smiles at the valor of the Paladin's of the Triumvirate and the Red Blades though she mourns each loss as she reads their names, far to many names, many of whom she didn't even know.

She wonders vaguely if the Young Paladin who talked with her about the Anderson Act was still alive, she hadn't seen him yet.. though with so many fallen it may be days to determine who is still alive. The Legion dead trouble her less, having never felt they were not quite allies, though in her heart she knew that some good men lay dead in defense of Sundren even there.

As she reads the account of the Helmites, her fingers tighten around the parchment.. "Bloody Cowards!" she whispers to herself. "Damned Bloody Cowards!" She feels an old familiar rage burning in her chest and lets it disperse not giving in to it as she wished to. One thing she knew of for sure. The Helmites had failed Sundren, she makes a note to find Osclow.. they had work to do now.

[Kaeldorn]

Staying True to Vows

Fright'ning words are spoken, not all can comprehend.
Spirits wholly broken, by a curse without an end.
In fear a child lies curled, In darkness the land falls.
Then in this cruel world, within us the Light calls:

The promise I will keep, let darkness be undone,
That never shall I sleep, until the battle's won.
And I will not lose hope, the righteous I defend,
With any threat I'll cope, I’ll fight until the end.

Unstopped, shadow extends, a force not to defy.
The nightmare never ends, no matter what we try.
A life draws to a close, falling alone and in regret.
The innocents' blood flows, but don't allow me to forget:

The promise I will keep, let darkness be undone,
That never shall I sleep, no, not until the battle's won.
And I will not lose hope, the righteous I defend,
With any threat I'll cope, yes I will fight until the end.

When it's harder than before, then on my heart I will depend.
Then I will just do more, and I will fight until the end.


The words she remembered from that fateful day, that had kept her on her feet when her hopes seemed to falter. Never had she sung them out loud before, not even as softly as she did now. She shared what gave her the strength to face what seemed to be impossible threats, her inspiration, with those around her. The already fearless paladins and the many brave or daring adventurers that fought alongside the Triumvirate could hear the song, and were given that little bit of additional courage that might make them stand more solidly against what lay ahead. To fight until the end, if need be.

She was standing among the guilty, the leaders and followers of the Triumvirate. Hano and Tamryn had said that she was not to blame, but to her they had just been words to provide solace in knowing that they, as friends and allies, didn't wish her to live on carrying even more sentiments of shame on her already overburdened shoulders. Yashia was thankful for their caring, but knew all too well that she was where she belonged. For her ignorant foolishness that made her convince High Adjudicator Balthasar to call for retrieving the Cube from what had after all proven to be relatively good Hands.

Her place was a place of redemption, to make up for but one of her errors of the past, albeit a great one that had already and would on this day cost many more lives. The lives of good men, and good women. Part of her hoped that she would be one of them, but the better part reminded her that if she would, then there would be no more chances to make up for all those other mistakes. Sehron was right... she couldn't charge in headlong against the enemy at the unavoidable cost of her own life. No. She had to live through this, though not only for his reasons.

And so it was that even against the shadows that were the nemesis of the light she upheld, these Nightwalkers, that she did not fight with the zeal and lack of self-control that usually got the better of her when she fought greater abominations of the undead. She was disciplined, focused, and complimented the rest of her battalion not by standing in the front lines and getting torn to pieces with her less than average defensive capabilities. The job of holding the line and advancing it was better left to the more capable plate-clad paladins with a shield of hardened metal and a shield of faith to match. Instead, she struck quickly and forcefully with sacred vengeance at moments of opportunity, managing not only to severely injure the monsters as far as it were possible, but even felling one or two of them with blows so mighty she had never known she could muster them. When the time wasn't right to strike, she would retreat and tend to the wounded, using her vast supply of potions, scrolls and healing kits to keep alive both renowned heroes as well as nameless warriors. For all fought equally bravely, and deserved equal treatment. The chance to get up and fight again in this battle and many to come.

The struggle raged on, tides turning in favor of one side to the other and back. The more time passed, the less Yashia was able to swing her steel. She grew fatigued and weakened, a mixture of sweat and blood of herself and others covering the most of her skin. Thwarting the elementals, portals and Sharite 'shadow elves' were not her fortes, but she did her best to proceed at what she had been doing thus far without succumbing to her physical weaknesses. The fallen paladin of Lathander had always believed in the victory this day would bring, not even the release of Shar's avatar could change that. But when the Solar and his allies came down as a blessing from the heavens, she saw their salvation. The forces of dawn brought hope anew and she was proud and humbled at the same time to be allowed to stand beside them.

The fight was won... almost. It would not be over until the leader of the Talonans, Xithis, was dealt with for good. An opening came, a path to cause the end of this all, to strike the head of this assault against humanity itself. A deed that all would praise and remember. Yashia, Osclow and several others saw it and rushed onwards. But from the corner of her eye, the ranger woman saw something else. One remaining nightwalker raised its deadly shadowy claw to take the life of an Ilmaterian paladin who lay helplessly on the ground.

Yashia didn't have to think for a second. She stopped her charge and swiftly leapt to the side, drawing upon a final blessing of light she had saved to swing at the dark giant. She struck true, not at all unlike she had done against the first undead being she had ever slain... her father. The creature shrieked, and vanished in nothingness. At the same time, Osclow took the killing blow against Xithis, and the fame and glory with it. He who was usually in the background ascended to the spotlights, while her deed would be left unspoken except perhaps by the man whose gratitude she had for eternity, even if they would never meet again. The lack of a hero's medal mattered not to her. She had vowed to be a vanquisher of evil, but first and foremost she had vowed to be a protector of good.

She had kept her promise, and that was enough.

[Verrath]

(( somewhat late, but I had no chance to sit down and write till now ))

When Annie and Calandra walked up to the Triumvirate - Annie wanted to check on Hano after learning of the terrible Geas on him - she was astonished to find the halls empty. Not a single Paladin remained.

"What could be going on?" she asked Calandra, who shrugged, looking as puzzled as she herself felt.

They resolved to walk outside and ask around - someone had to have seen them leave.

"Oh aye," said a beggar by the lake, "they left in quite a hurry, they did - all of them in them fancy armors and all.... headed for the viridale border, they were! There was talk of an attack!"

Calandra and Annie stared at each other. "We have to go and help!" They said almost at the same time.

So they set out, travelling as fast as they could, asking others as they went to make sure they did not get thrown off track.

At first, the searched madly, and only stayed on track by the helpful responses of farmers and travellers. But arriving at the Viridale Forest Border, their trail was clear in the form of bloody corpses strewn along the armie's past. Annie did not want to look close enough at some of them for fear of seeing a known face. From glances she could neither make out that shiny plate armor, nor any red clothing, or red hair. So far so good. They pressed on.

At long last, they found the brave group camped at the foot of the mountain, regrouping after a series of vicious attacks. Led by Katie and Hano, she also saw other familiar faces, Osclow and Lauan, and some she had not met before. There was little time to fill Calandra and Annie in, but they were glad for Calandra's blade, Annie thought.

Grimly, she prepared herself for the march ahead of them. So Xithis had at last massed his army for the big assault and had taken a stand up the mountain. Her stomach fluttered madly - she hoped she could keep her wits together. Concentrating as best as she could, she begged the Earthmother and the Treefather to grant her the Power. She was weak yet, she knew this. But every little bit might count in the end.

Removing her scythe from her back, she started the trek up the mountain following behind her comrades.

Katie was as always a striking figure - all in red and easily seen against the drab rock of the steep slope. She had been given command, and was walking point flanked by Osclow, Hano and Lauan. Lauan being there was a bit of a surprise to Annie - especially since the Red Wizard was nowhere near. Then again, he had his own agenda, and Lauan was probably an unwitting part of it no matter where he was.

She brought up the rear - Calandra stayed close by her side with her blade at the ready, which gave Annie no end of comfort - despite the fact that she didn't like being coddled. There were limits. Not that she'd ever admit it.

Up and up they travelled, the climb becoming quite steep. Before long, Annie found her breath coming in hersh gasps. She shuddered as she suddenly felt the enchantments around herself weaken, it was as if she had stepped through a tingling curtain that smothered the Power and unravelled her spells. Before she had time to think about it, battle was upon them.

With a savage growl she started laying about with her scythe. She called to mind the Bear, grumpy and angered after being roused, not seeking to become the bear but to share his rage. She would need her wits here, could not afford to let animal instinct take over.

She felt the wicked blade connect time and time again, but she hardly saw if she did any serious damage. It was all she could do to keep their blades from reaching her. Calandra was at her side, carving a path through the enemy with skill and fervor. In truth, that was probably the reason those blades were kept clear of Annie, not any of her own frantic brandishing of her unwieldy gardening tool.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Hano stagger backward under a wicked blow, then fall bonelessly to the ground.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Moments turning into agonizing eternity.

"Hano!! " she screamed. "No!"

She was vaguely aware of a hand on her shoulder - Calandra's, she thought, and of Katie rushing to his side and laboriously lifting him up.

From that moment, her memory was a haze. There was Xithis, and then he was dead, the cube was retrieved and started to break to pieces - a Solar appreared, sacrificing his own life to destroy the powerful and dangerous artifact. The mountain beginning to rumble. She remembered a vague argument, and then they were down the mountain, but how, she could not for the life of her recall.

All she could recall was that pale, pale face and the horrible wound. And then, relief, as he was brought back, and slowly started to stir. Only then did Annie realize they truly had won... Sagging with relief and weariness against her friend Calandra, she tiredly followed the others back to the city.