The Father of Waters

Game Master Fighting Chicken

ROUND 12

The onslaught of Imix's Frozen bring the remaining Braves low, their bodies falling to the muddy earth, while both Istiel and Rigel wound their respective foes with quick kicks and dagger thrusts. They both are still standing, until Drazan takes the dagger-arm off of Istiel's foe with a viscious swipe of his axe, and the sapper drops like his companions just a second before.

The leader backs up, pulling another gourd from his pack and tosses it onto one of Imix's Frozen. The Frozen explodes, wood and body parts flying, and coating the other Frozen next to it with flames, which burn stubbornly in the downpour, the northernmost Frozen falling to the ground, inanimate. Running south along the wall-line, the leader yells,

Pahlock, fumbling with the arrow, pulls a long, thin twig from his belt pouch and runs it down the rough surface of his bow, causing flame to spring from the twig's tip. Touching it to his wrapped arrow, the arrow lights, a brilliant red flame that shines brightly in the downpour. Pahlock draws the bowstring back and fires the arrow...

Where it lands, a few inches above the black substance covering the palisade, the arrow burning brightly, but the explosive beneath it unlit. Perhaps it was Oios' rage-filled threats, perhaps it was the damage done to Rigel, but regardless, the palisade wall will still stand. For a few more seconds at least.

From the east, bellows of rage can be heard echoing across the canal. Telowo runs to Oios' side and offers a quick supplication to Damballah before touching his gravely wounded friend...

COMBAT MAP

Round 12

Istiel suddenly finds herself holding a severed arm as Drazen slices it clean off the Frozen's shoulder. While she would normally marvel at the powerful, strange weapon in the warrior's pocession, she was too confused by what these Frozen were actually doing. This is a poor attempt to set fire to the wall. Tar? In the rain? Idiotic.

She drops the arm to the ground to cover her face as one of Imix's abominations blows into bits, staring in momentary shock. Eyes turn to the leader as he runs down the wall, and then her head turns to follow the arrow as it thuds harmlessly into the palisade.

Realizing she has wasted precious seconds trying to comprehend a situation outside her understanding, the monk drops the thoughts from her mind and breaks into a rapid sprint after the leader Frozen.

The sapper makes the mistake of briefly stopping to fumble with more of those strange spheres of his, and he looks up just in time to look Istiel in the eye as she slams her balled fist full-force into his solar plexus.

Unaware of the danger to the wall, Imix doggedly continues to cart the limp Rheumy to the gates. The walking wounded surround him - many dragging those even more wounded. Some of those dragged are dead. Some are dying.
Channeling might make the difference - but there are more wounded inside the walls, and I need to husband what I can. Just keep going.
"If you're in the walls, and healthy, come out and help these people!" he commands those inside the safety of the gates. Cowards

=================
ROUND 12
=================
Drazan follows after Istiel and joins her in trying to pulverize the bomb wielding mountain man.

Rigel slashes ineffectually at the bowman as he shoots, but her eyes follow the arc of the flaming arrow instead and she misses him.

She still doesn't get what is going on entirely, but a burning arrow in the wall is bad news. Stepping away from the bowman, she runs to pull the thing out of the wall, and extinguish it in the mud - away from the sap they were spreading on the wall.

The flaming Frozen misinterprets Imix's words, and starts to return to his master.
Imix looks up as the humanoid inferno approaches him and grits his teeth.
"Into the river. Kill anyone else who tries to cross."

Round 12

Oios grasps Telowo's shoulder in thanks and for support as the healing takes over. Thank you friend. Now get inside. I fear this day is not over

Oios tries to concentrate to get away from the filthy substance covering him.

But the trails of the day are just a bit too much for the old man. With a swear Oios starts hacking at the sticky goop.

===============
ROUND 13
===============

Telowo gives Oios a quick pat on his back and turns towards the bridge. "Get inside as soon as you're able, old friend. I fear this attack isn't over either." Then the priest begins making his way down the ghats, towards the commotion on the other side of the bridge.

Giant-sized Rigel easily plucks the arrow from the palisade wall and drops it into the mud, where it still lays burning.

A few villagers make their way out of the gates to help the wounded up the ghats, while the remaining risen Frozen disappears into the Cheya Canal, flames extinguishing as it submerges itself.

While Oios struggles with his bonds, Drazan makes short work of Pahlock, who goes down in a spray of gore. Istiel charges past the man's twitching body towards the leader, catching the Mountain Man firmly in his solar plexus. The man wretches and steps backward, but regains his composure and tosses a gourd at 1 Istiel, 2 Drazan: 1d2 ⇒ 1 Istiel, who bats it away catlike, into the palisade wall, where it explodes in a fiery conflagration, engulfing both the leader and Istiel in white-hot flames. Immediately, the leader pulls another gourd from his pouch....

COMBAT MAP

===============
ROUND 13
===============

Flinging the former Pahlock off to the side Drazan dashes past the bomb wielding mountain man, sliding in the mud to a stop and swinging the ax in a wide arc followed by a powerful downward arc that splits errant rain drops in two.

Drazan's onslaught is quick and furious, the saboteur's raised arms providing little safety as The Man From Fire Peaks' axe comes down. Two slashes later, and the enemy leader lies on the ground, breathing becoming shallower as he struggles to hang onto this world.

Down by the bridge, Domhnall and Telowo have formed a line at the bridge, and behind them the Garrison-Captain Galton Tyrill, his bow drawn, arm whipping back to his quiver as he sends arrow after arrow over the elder's heads. Beyond them, in the rain, movement, rain-obscured and blurry shapes, and a the combined rage screams of hundreds of more warriors.

Telowo looks to the other men, and then up the ghats. "Get inside the gates and shut them tight!"

Round 13

Oios smashes the last bits of the sticky substance aside and moves to the leader and gives the prone body a rough search.

Strip him and drag him back into the gate with you for interrogation. I will stay here and scrape the tar off and search the other sappers and braves. Tell someone to shore up the part of the wall that was damaged also. Go! I will be with you soon.

The saboteur's wooden armor is a darkly whirled wood, stained even darker, almost a red/black, and when you lift him to search the body, you realize the armor is surprisingly lightweight as well. Next, Oios gives the man's longspear a cursory look over, noting that it is of the same wooden material as the armor.

Opening the leader's satchel, Oios stares as his mind takes a second to catch up to his eyes. The satchel, a scuffed leather bag with three compartments, is filled to the brim - no beyond the brim - with all manner of gourds, herbs, and other substances. Reaching his hand into the satchel, Oios' arm descends into the satchel to the shoulder, as if there is more space within the satchel as there appears to be outside it.

Appraise: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

Oios eyebrows raise at the incredible weapon and armor the man was wearing but it is nothing compared to his shock as his arm goes deep into the satchel.

We are not fighting barbarians. We are fighting people who make us look like the ones scrabbling with sticks and stones while they come at us with wonders from Hainu's and Makaya's own houses he mutters and strips off the armor and spear and tosses them towards the others while he takes the satchel for himself. Satisfied that the man is defenseless and has no more alchemical tricks on him the Shadow steps back and moves towards the wall. Stopping to tear off rags from the other corpse Oios starts to wipe the tar off the fence.

He looks at the others.

Help me or go, but fast!

Round 13

Istiel knocks the gourd out of the air as it hurtles towards her, having seen what the strange concoction did too one of the risen Frozen. She was caughtin the blast nonetheless, instinctively covering her face with her arms film the wave of heat that rolled over her.

When she lowers her arms she notices the heat is still present, and flames lick at her robes. In an uncharacteristic panic the monk slaps at the flames before grabbing mud from the ground and throwing it on herself to extinguish the butning cloth.

Coughing and breathing heavily, the wounded warrior looks over to Oios as he rifles through the leaders belongings. "We must go quickly Oios." Istiel croaks hoarsing, still coughing from a singed windpipe. She moves over to grab whatever is handed to her for carrying.

It was clear she wasn't going to leave the priest, by she wasn't encouraging sticking around much longer.

===============
ROUND 13
===============
Scooping up Oios's armor and spear made of familiar wood, Drazan turns to look around the battlefield, just now realizing the nameless mountain man that was sentenced to death was no longer following closely. Growling as Drazan's raging mind immediately assumed the worst, he began back toward the bridge.

Rigel looks curiously at Oios as he scrapes at the sap covering the walls. "Mud." Rolling her eyes, she points at the ground. "It's easy to pick up and spread, and it's wet! Smear it over the walls - easier than trying to scrape off the sticky sap!"

She wrinkles her nose. This is going to be really, really messy. She supposes that bathing will not be a high priority in a siege.

Training. We need to act like the barbarians did. A group of Archers with that sort of cohesion could be decisive. We have done well with our chaotic mix, but as a disciplined force they would have done better. How did they slip through our defences so easily?

Struggling up the rain-slick, muddy slope, burdened by the weight of the wounded Rheumy, Imix continues to shout out orders. "Wounded to me! Archers, to the walls! Look for cover in case of more javelins!"

Seeing the injured giant Drazan moving up towards him he shouts out "Save those who cannot climb! The next wave approaches!"

=====================
ROUND 14
=====================

Inside Eel Mound's walls, chaos reigns. Townsfolk stand, faces horror stricken, looking towards the open gates, all quiet except the storm. Into this vaccuum, Imix steps, and the soldiers that had met the warband outside the gates spring to action upon the Suriname's orders, scrambling up to the catwalk around the palisade, bows drawn and arrows nocked. The wounded that can walk begin to swarm the Suriname, cries for help ringing around the area.

Oios rubs some of the tar-like substance off the wall using the clothes from the defeated, while Rigel finds the pitch spread on the palisade wall is a little diluted by taking some mud and mixing it onto the wall. Istiel also uses the mud - to extinguish the flames licking at her robes, her sleeves singed but the monk otherwise unhurt.

Down by the bridge, Drazan can make out shapes flooding the pavilion. Not a few warbands, but hundreds of raiders. A horde. Domhnall growls at the Man From Fire Peaks. "Get behind the gates!"

Imix struggles through the crowd, positioning himself as close to the centre, and the worst wounded, as he could.
Almost at my limit. Those I miss might not be healed until tomorrow - and a night of cold, chaos and war means we'll lose some The uncertainty in his mind is banished from his face and his voice.
"Take heart! All is not lost. The barbarians are at the gates, yes. They have dark magics, yes. but the Gods still love you! How else to explain that in your hour of need you have a Suriname in your midst!"
Imix gave everything he had. Something had been blocking him, out on the field. Something restricting his channel to the divine energy. Something somehow between him, and it. Desperate to reach the healing energy of Damballah once more he struggled like a drowning man - then stopped.
I am Suriname. Our way is not to beat through a wall - it is to understand the wall. Caught up in his own mind - his own soul - he sought to embrace the wall, while around him the villagers wondered at the Suriname's strange stillness.
It is - it is like a weir he realised. It holds the power - but if I raise the gate with a little power...
The area around the Suriname filled with healing energy, the eyes of his shield burning for a moment like the sun.
A man with a broken arm stiffened as his bones reknit - then grabbed his spear. A woman with a still child in her arms sobbed as it awoke. An old man threw away his makeshift crutch. Rheumy, now at the Suriname's feet, awoke.

Oios sighs as the rest of the group refuse to leave his side. I am a Shadow. I can take care of myself. he mutters but acquiesces. There is just not enough time to do a proper job of clearing off the tar. If he can he strips the closest sapper of any satchel or sack he might have been carrying and starts heading towards the gate. Stopping at any wounded person he might find he will start to drag him or her to safety. We've beaten off the first wave. We can only stave off the second from behind the wall! Drazan!

=====================
ROUND 14
=====================

"They can not take the bridge if there is no bridge to take! Oios! Here!" Drazan moves to retrieve Oios and the satchel that was intended for the palisade wall. "Destroy the bridge Oios! Do not let them take from us, that which is ours!"

Drazan moves to help hold the bridge until it is prepared for destruction.

A lifetime of training resolved itself. A veritable list of tasks unrolled in his head. Tasks were prioritised. 'This is what I was trained for' Imix realised. He resumed human form, the better to communicate. Grunted guttural roars might suffice for combat - but not for the sort of detailed orders...

Orders...

'Suriname are forbidden to give orders except for their Purpose!' For a moment he field the searing temptation to simply lie, claim this was his Purpose. 'I can save these people, Damballah. Make this my Purpose.' Imix prayed - but there was no answer.

No answer.

Surrounded by death and violence, the Suriname laughed, but there was no joy in it.

With the satchel Oios hurries towards the bridge but pauses at the sound of Imix's laughter. Fearing the Suriname had gone insane Oios calls out. Imix! The bridge must be destroyed to hold off the hoardes! We need your help!

[b]"If you have two hands help Oios to blow this bridge!"[b] Drazan yells to anyone that can his voice can reach.

Round 14

Istiel, no longer aflame, surveys the scene. The barbarian hordes amassing at the edge of the woods make her pause. There are so many. I suspect they will all refuse to fight me one-on-one. For some reason this amuses the monk, eliciting a chuckle that rapidly turns into a groan- she was still wounded, but decided to get moving in an attempt to mask it.

Domhnall stood at the bridge like a glorious protector, and the young monk makes a beeline for her master. Jogging up the to bridge, she stands next to him with clenched fists. "Master, I stand with you."

Hazel eyes briefly gaze to the north, when she remembers... "Master... where are the other monks?" Last she saw, they charged off into the treeline.

Imix, head raised to the sky, blinks at Oios' words. The nictating membrane from his change retracts back into his eye. A splash of water touches his unprotected cornea, and he flinches, rain running down his face like tears.

"Chukix, have ropes, picks, firewood and strong men bought out to me immediately."
"Lord mayor, if I might have a moment of your time?" Imix starts to walk calmly out through the no-longer-wounded towards the bridge, talking quickly.
"They are coming. I suggest" - there is an ironic emphasis in the tone - "You need archers on the walls. Give them a leader - Sarre perhaps? In fact anyone who can throw a javelin or use a sling. You'll need a mobile force inside - Utzi can put that together. Move the young children and disabled away from the walls. Organise a bucket chain - our enemy loves fire, and they will use it. I suggest putting Texikuk in charge. Perhaps Thom, as well. Get Helgya to set up a triage area for the wounded. Coordinate with Bellet, but do not cede control yet." he turns at the gate posts and smiles back at the people.
"Look strong, lord Mayor."
He turns, putting the mound behind his back and out of his mind. Instead he concentrates on the bridge, walking quickly ahead as he studies the old structure, heading towards the apex.
"Oios: if we can raise a fire on the bridge we may discourage them for a time. Without some sort of explosives I doubt we can blow the bridge. What do you have there?"

Oios sighs in relief as the Suriname's madness seems to recede. It could come back at any time he thinks as Imix approaches.

The old man thuds the satchel onto the muddy ground and opens it up, preparing to dig into it to find the tins of paste that the sappers had been using.

Sappers at the palisade, barely stopped them from burning it down with some alchemy that I know... he begins to explain but stops for a moment as he stares down at exactly the stoppered containers he had been hoping to find sitting there right at the top. He was certain that there had been other items there when he had opened it last....

No matter, muttering a prayer of thanks to Makaya Oios takes the containers out and shows them to Imix.

Black paste, activated by fire, I am certain it could do major damage to the bridge, perhaps even destroy it. We need to do it quickly before the second wave crashes down on us. There are old stories of how bridges came to be built but.. we don't have time!

Imix pauses for a second, then takes the paste.
"Drazan! We need your axe to make some cracks this paste can go in. I'll mark the points to hit. Oios: how much is in there? Everyone else: spread the paste as deeply into the cracks as you can."
The Suriname gestures and releases a fragment of power. On the bridge, as if drawn in chalk, lines begin to appear.

Drazan seems to be already thinking about attacking the bridge when Imix suggests it, and swings away where directed.

I think we have enough to destroy the bridge. Oios responds to Imix though he does try to keep one tin back in order that it be studied. Still that is of a lower priority.

As long as the screaming hoarde is assembling Oios will rub paste where Imix directs. Once they get close however Oios will stand back alongside Telowo and add his Barrier to that of his old friend.

===========
Rounds 15-18
===========

Inside the wall, the Lord Mayor is nowhere to be found. Imix settles for requesting archers from Sarre, and a ground force from Utzi - a quick, barked order of a request, that has the desired effect - both villagers spring to action and start organizing their forces.

As Imix makes his way out the gates, he can hear Chukix trying to organize other villagers, but the villagers seem hesitant, barely moving.

The Suriname passes through the gates, spying Rigel frantically adding mud to the wall, and makes his way down to the bridge, meeting with Oios, Drazan, Istiel, Telowo, and Domhnall. Drazan is already at work with his strange weapon, hacking into the ancient stone bridge, bits of rock flying. Telowo utters a quick prayer a soothing blue light flashes out from the priest's staff, sealing your wounds and stanching bleeding. Dom is busy at work applying Oios' pitch to the bridge, and with Imix's direction, a weak point - the Apex of the bridge - is found.

"Istiel! Give me a hand!" the old monk barks, there being little time for niceties. On the other side of the bridge, a great cacophony arises, howls and the thudding of wood and stone on wooden shields, soon accompanied by beating drums. The Mountain Men flood into the pavilion, hundreds of them, amplifying each other's rage, one great and fearsome, screaming horde...

Realising that Chukix isn't managing to cajole the villagers, Rigel stops her work on the walls and stumbles over. Rain-soaked, muddy, bone-weary, numb with shock and horror, she realises she has almost nothing to say; but with an effort of will she dredges up something - something passionate, fiery, raw with loss and grief and - and rage.

"Listen to me, all of you! I know - believe me, I know - you don't want to come out here! I can't blame you; I'd do the same if I had any sense. But this is our home! Are we to leave its defence to visitors?!"

She pauses.

"Imix, Oios, Drazan, Lady Bellet and her men - none of them know this place like we do. None of them have memories here. Are we going to crawl away and let these Frozen bastards desecrate our home town while we cower under the shelter of others?"

She looks around.

"Or are we going to FIGHT?!"

Round 15-18

Istiel watches the assembling barbarian horde with a mixture of awe, fear, and excitement. She is snapped out of it when Domnhall calls to her, the young monk springing into action.

She is slightly disappointed when a large glop of black tar is put in her hand. It is instantly recognizable as the same substance the sapper was using to coat the walls, which she assumed was going to be used to burn it down. A fool's errand. But now they were applying it to... the bridge?

Knowing Domnhall was too smart to try to burn down a stone bridge in the rain, Istiel takes a deep smell of the tar for a moment in an effort to ascertain its properties, then gets to work smearing it into the cracks of the bridge.

Meanwhile, in the back of her mind, a question haunts: Where are the other monks?

===========
Rounds 15-18
===========

===========
Rounds 15-18
===========

===========
Rounds 15-18, 19 starting
===========

Alma Slate looks to Rigel, her face pinched with fury. "Gods damn right, Quicklingfay! What are we, to let others fight our battles for us. Normus, Talta, come on!"

The three villagers run towards the bridge and soon are at work, quickly smearing the paste over Imix's lines.

Korya comes limping from the crowd with a few fishers, her dark skin slick with rain. "Ai, pretty one! What were you doing along the wall? Need help?"

Down at the bridge, Drazan swings away, his axe creating fissures in the bridge's surface. Perhaps too late, it dawns on the horde's leadership what is coming. The drum beats increase to a rapid creshendo, and then a horn sounds, one long lingering blast, as the horde surges forward as arrows arc through the air.

Round 19

Telowo it seems, is waiting for the volley. With a supplication, his warding envelopes you, and the arrows seems to slow as they enter the blue haze, their effects blunted. Both of the villagers fall under the onslaught while Alma screams in pain as an arrow grazes her head.

The horde surges forward, meeting the Man From Fire Peaks on the bridge, spears and ghandasas swinging and thrusting, drawing blood from Drazan, the Frozen behind the weapon-wall screaming with rage.

COMBAT MAP

Red is the 'apex'. Yellow is the horde. I've got you all positioned where I thought the most sense would be, but feel free to move around to start. The horde has reach. I forgot to get it on the map, but Telowo and Dom are also down 7 hps.

Rigel's magic wears off and she reduces back to her normal size. Running over to the others at the bridge, she looks appalled at the sheer size of the horde facing them.

Dodging most of the arrows sent her way, she looks scornfully at the others. "You can't possibly hold off that many for any length of time! Oios, in the name of Anaisa Pye's Most Wondrous Cleavage, will you look in that magic bag of yours and get me something that will make a flame! Time to destroy the bridge."

===========
Rounds 19
===========

Drazan scoops up Imix and focuses on defense as he prepares to make for Shadeholme walls. "Make it quickly! They have more arrows." Drazan growls as he pulls another arrow from his arm. "Anyone with a bow is going to lose their hands for this annoyance."

Round 19

Istiel hears the thrum of bowstrings as the horde unleashes a volley of missiles. She twists her body in its crouched position, watching the arrows arc downward and bounce off the magical barrier.

Keenly, she spots one arrow make it through the barrier, screaming towards her. The monk's hand snaps out and catches the arrow inches from her face before she casually turns around and begins using the missle to spread the tar into the bridge cracks.

"Oios! There are too many to kill. Throw a boom-gourd at the bridge! "

Then move back Oios says to his comrades on the bridge, confident that the screaming hoard does not hear him. Let them come to the edge of our trap before we gift them Marinette's fire.

As the group moves back in a tactical retreat, the horde surges, the barbarians at the front pressing Drazan as he moves, but wary at the giant's axe, which loops in wide arcs in front of him, taking those that get too close's limbs and lives.

Oios opens the satchel, stumbling through the mud and rain head down, to find wonders of wonders a bundle of twigs, wrapped tightly with black twine. Pulling the twigs from the sack, Oios runs one along the satchel, and with a pop, despite the driving rainstorm, a black flame springs from the tip. Flinging the twig at the bridge, it arcs through the rain, flame flickering as it spirals through the air, until it lands between two charging Frozen on the bridge...

..
.

More enemies charge, boots landing around the twig, flame flickering and unnoticed, when finally, mercifully, the bridge catches, and in an instant it is engulfed in flame, rupturing outward and up, the edge of the blast licking Drazan's arms. Bodies fly, lit, into the canal, and the howling of the horde stops, the only sounds the rainstorm and the whooshing flames as they shoot into the sky. Despite the flames, the bridge still stands, blackened and burnt, and burning bright, but standing.

You make your way up the ghats, and then to the muddy top of Eel Mound, and into the palisade, where a cheer goes up from the arches on the wall. Grunting, Utzi and his men pull the gates closed behind. Whoever is still out there is left to their own fate. Hopefully their prayers are heard.

Beyond the bridge, the drumming picks up, three quick beats, a pause, three more, a pause, and so on, and the horde melts into the forest, the forms of its warriors lost in the storm, the drumbeats fading. Shadeholme still stands. For now.

Istiel retreats with the others , the horde licking their heels. She turns to watch as Oios throws a flaming stick at the bridge, anticipating a simple wall of fire.

The resulting blast instead shakes her ribcage, nearly blinds her eyes, and boxes her ears. The slack-jawed monk watches the charred and burning giblets arc through the air and into the river. Awed by the destruction, she stands in place staring at the flame-kissed bridge until she realizes everyone else is already running to Shadeholme. What need do we have for swords with this power? Is her last thought before turning and running for the gate.

-------------

Istiel is the last to squeeze through the gates as they close, her pace reducing to a trot before she completely stops, panting. The smell of sweat, blood, and fear is thick behind the palisade walls despite the crisp and refreshing rain tickling her bare hands.

She immediately climbs the palisade to look out over the land from atop Eel mound, searching for any indication the other monks were present or any movement of the mountain men along there trees. The monk stands and watches until someone fetches her or hunger gets the best of her worn body.

Alas, from the top of the palisade Istiel can make out little, largely due to the driving rain limiting visibility. Little beyond the bridge can be seen, other than the blaze on the bridge, which is beginning to burn itself down.

Taking a circle of the palisade, Istiel finds ten of Bellet's men, half of them dead and charred, corpses still smoking, along with a portion of the palisade which lies damaged but still mostly standing. At the base of the wall two Frozen lie dead, pincushioned with arrows. Laconically, Antuk, Lady Bellet's head guardsman, stands watching the rainstorm. Nodding to the warrior-monk, he looks back out into the storm. "Three of them, with a group of raiders. Tried to blow the palisade, but we drove them off before they could do too much damage." The man then wipes his brow and points into the storm. "That is not the only curious thing, though."

Istiel squints, and in the distance, after a moment, she can make out what Antuk sees; a flame, deep red, spitting a deep black smoke into the grey sky. The angle is all wrong, though, as if the flame is hovering in the air. With a start, it dawns on the monk that at that elevation, it can only mean one thing: the flame sits atop Monk's Mound, and to be seen at all in this rainstorm, it must be a conflagration.