Magic Dot
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Your life, to date, has been one of joyous discovery and woeful loss. Growing up in the Great Northern Wood or the The Altwidus (Old Forest) as the Rinthungi call it – was blissful. The freedom to wander the forest at will, and then to discover you had the power of the Druids flowing through your veins…well it was almost a fairy tale come to life. That all came crashing down the day you returned from your self-study to find your friends and teachers murdered…killed by the Hastian Inquisition. Only one teacher survived and you both swore vengeance against The Church. So, you spent the next few years raiding and killing various City-State troops and clergy, but you must have been doing too good a job for the Rinthungi sent more and more troops against you and your small band. Finally, with only you and a few survivors left, a last stand was made on the barren shores of the Zyndyr Zee with only a handful escaping by boat. Exiled from your homeland you signed on with several different ships travelling the coast and visiting many small towns and villages.
You awake to a strange rocking motion and a splitting headache. If you did not know better, you would think you were still on-ship…but your vessel docked yesterday…and you are on leave?? Last thing you remember is drinking with some of your shipmates at a local pub… As you try to move and sit-up, you discover your right leg is attached to a length of chain by a metal cuff. Opening your gritty eyes, you find yourself in the hold of a ship with dozens of other people. A few you know vaguely, but most are complete strangers. You are about to say something when the cargo hatch was lifted off and a ladder was setup. Down the companionway several armed and armoured men arrived to unlock the shackles and get the people in line to climb the ladder. You are pushed and prodded until you are up on the deck of the ship. The sight that greets you is dazzling and frightening. The bright glare of the sun on water momentarily blinds you, but as your vision slowly comes back you can see, firstly, that you are not the only ship out here. Several similar vessels can be seen all around your ship…all of them disgorging what looks like troops. The second thing you notice as you turn around is that you are off the coast of some barren country. The dry, hot wind give you the only hint you need to know where you are…Ankhu!
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Up to a few weeks ago, you were living a life of comfort and ease. Having just finished a stint learning with a Hyrhb (lector-priest), you were relaxing at your family’s estate in the city-state of Kha. A commotion from the entryway drew you to a well-dressed man whom your father was talking to rather quickly and nervously.
” We had a deal Heb. I provide you special prices from our foundries and you take care of these problems. I have kept my end of the bargin….”
The visitor simply sneers at your father and hands him a tightly rolled scroll with the colours of Sharmarmeru, the great city-state to the north and titular ruler of all the lands of Ankhu.
” He will be expected to be there, or else it will go badly for your clan!”
The man walked away and your father stands with the door open just watching him leave, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Turning he sees you and gives a great sigh.
” I am sorry son. I was hoping to spare you this ‘service’ to Sharmarmeru, but as you can see my bribing the magistrate only postponed the inevitable.”
He hands the scroll over and walks away. Opening the missive, you scan the contents and are stunned to discover you are to report of military duty in 1 week at the local barracks. You have been drafted!
The week flies past and you soon find yourself in a line with other recruits. You attempt to tell them of your family ties and education but are simply ignored until you arrive at the front of the line. There you are given a dagger, spear and hide shield. The next stop you are handed a set of light cloth and leather armour and told to get dressed. Not sure what else to do you follow the orders and soon are marching with fifty or so other new soldiers under the commands of the stern officers and taskmasters.
For 2 weeks you travel eastward, the days blurring into each other…up at dawn for a quick meal then break camp and march until the sun was high in the sky, then resting for an hour or two through the worst of the day’s heat, then marching until the moon begins to top the dunes and set up camp and a meal before sleep, or worst, guard duty. Many times to tried to impress upon your superiors your training in Maat (magic) and your noble birth, but they still did not seem to care.
Finally, your troop reaches their destination. The sounds of battle drift over the dunes, but also the smell of the sea and sound of waves. You have marched all the way to the coast! Your superiors’ line you up and march you over the last dune into a battle already in progress. A dozen or so ships are anchored offshore and many smaller crafts are ferrying troops to the beach where an already sizeable number of strangely dressed soldiers are battling your fellow countrymen. Your commander gives the signal and you advance down to the battle.
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A second brand was added to your first, showing the world that you have crossed the law in Rinthungi and be caught and punished twice. Once more and you will see the hangman's noose!
The second time at Oostsan Prison is in some ways not nearly as bad as the first. You know the people to stay clear of, what the various routines are and how to keep your head down and out of trouble. Well, that is what you told yourself...right up to the point where you found yourself stepping in to stop a group known as the "pure" from lynching some poor orc lass. You would think he would know better to cross one of the most powerful gangs in the prison...and usually, he did, but he could not just stand by and watch them stomp the life out of the poor kid. So he stepped in and in the process marked him and the orc girl for death.
Weeks went by before the first attempt took place. You and the orc-girl, whos name you learned is Dagmar, were on your way to the kitchen for work detail when several of the 'Pure' tried to jump you in the hallway. Knowing how to defend yourself in prison, you had taught Dagmar how to make a shiv and keep it hidden on her person. The fight was brief but bloody. It surprised you that the girl was such a good fighter...and lucky too. He could have sworn some of those strikes had hit her, but she was not wounded, so he let it drop. The attacks continued on and off for the rest of the year until finally, a morning came when the guards dragged Dagmar and himself out, chained you together and placed you into the back of a wagon. You travelled for many days in this manner, until you reached a city. You were taken out of the wagon and marched up into the stinking belly of a ship. More and more people were crammed in until you barely had room to lie down. The pitching of the ship grew as they cast off and soon you were out in the ocean. You find a poor elven lad who looks like he might be dead, but Dagmar says he had been drugged so you leave him alone. For what seems like days you travel until the elf wakes and looks around. He was about to say something when the cargo hatch was lifted off and a ladder was setup.
Down the companionway, several armed and armoured men arrived to unlock the shackles and get the people in line to climb the ladder. You are pushed and prodded until you are up on the deck of the ship. The sight that greets you is dazzling and frightening. The bright glare of the sun on water momentarily blinds you, but as your vision slowly comes back you can see, firstly, that you are not the only ship out here. Several similar vessels can be seen all around your ship…all of them disgorging what looks like troops. The second thing you notice as you turn around is that you are off the coast of some barren country. The dry, hot wind gives you the only hint you need to know where you are…Ankhu!
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Your first night in Oostsan Prison was almost your last. Having spent a number of months in the city jail, you thought you would be ready for the infamous prison...but you were wrong. The very first night you had everything you brought to the place taken from you...leaving you cold and shivering on the floor of the cell. No blanket, change of clothes..nothing. It was all taken. When you tried to complain to the guards they mostly ignored you, but a few simply told you to take it back. After a few weeks of this miserable condition, you decided to get back what was yours. One night you waited until one of the prisoners at the end of your block left his room. Quickly you ran in and took whatever you could find. You left feeling triumphant, but this soon faded as you discovered this particular prisoner belonged to the prison gang known as the "pure". The gang did not take long in discovering you had stolen from one of its members, and one day as you were getting some air in the yard, several thugs surrounded you and started punching and kicking you while yelling out racial slurs. It seemed that they might kill you then and there when suddenly the assault ended. Standing near you was a tough-looking human holding a small knife. He had already cut 3 of the goons, and the others backed down. He helped you up and told you his name was Delreen.
The attacks continued on and off for the rest of the year until finally, a morning came when the guards dragged Dagmar and himself out, chained you together and placed you into the back of a wagon. You travelled for many days in this manner, until you reached a city. You were taken out of the wagon and marched up into the stinking belly of a ship. More and more people were crammed in until you barely had room to lie down. The pitching of the ship grew as they cast off and soon you were out in the ocean. You find a poor elven lad who looks like he might be dead, but Dagmar says he had been drugged so you leave him alone. For what seems like days you travel until the elf wakes and looks around. He was about to say something when the cargo hatch was lifted off and a ladder was setup.
Down the companionway, several armed and armoured men arrived to unlock the shackles and get the people in line to climb the ladder. You are pushed and prodded until you are up on the deck of the ship. The sight that greets you is dazzling and frightening. The bright glare of the sun on water momentarily blinds you, but as your vision slowly comes back you can see, firstly, that you are not the only ship out here. Several similar vessels can be seen all around your ship…all of them disgorging what looks like troops. The second thing you notice as you turn around is that you are off the coast of some barren country. The dry, hot wind gives you the only hint you need to know where you are…Ankhu!
"That can´t be true. I am wrong here!" But all whining does not help and he is forced by the mass of the bodies forward!
"Scheisse. Delllll - I think we're in trouble!"
Steel, steel, just gotta find something to keep me safe for long enough to slip on out of here!
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Dagmar, Delreen & Faen
Without any choice, you are shoved towards one of the smaller boats that are ferrying troops from the boats to the shore. You are man-handled into a seat by the other troops and soon you are rowing the boat towards shore. As soon as the keel hits the sand, soldiers are screaming at you to get out and form into a line. Sets of padded and leather armour are tossed at you (roll a d6: 1-4 padded, 5-6 leather)and each is given a dagger and spear. A few lucky ones even get a shield (1 on a d6).
"Listen up you scum. You have a chance here...a way to repay the City-State for your crimes and earn your freedom. All you have to do is survive this battle and you will be given your freedom and a portion of the plunder taken from our enemy. Listen to the Halber Ritters (sergeants) and they will give you the commands you will need to defeat this foe. Now get ready!"
You have around 5 minutes of confusion and chaos before the Halber Ritters begin to exert their will (and lashes) on the new conscripts.
ooc]What about Owain Glyndwr[/ooc]
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As the troops on the beach begin to form into units and move towards the melee further in, Owain's company are hastily moved forward to fight a group of soldiers attempting to move into the flanks of the Ankhu troops. As they get closer and closer, Owain sees what he first thought of as fierce visages upon the faces of his enemy, are actually looks of terror and wild abandon. The two groups slam together with a deafening crash.
Her head still pounding from the sudden sunlight, Faen grits her teeth as she realizes she's been press-ganged into the blighted Hastian army!!
A fist clenches as she begins to gather her power and strike out...but then a bundle of padded armor hits her in the chest and she realizes that her situation is frightfully, uncomfortably unavoidable.
Relaxing her gathering of power, she nods as the soldier outlines her fate...typical City-State nonesense....have others fight their battles for them!
Looking out across the surf, she recognized the coast of Ankhu, wondering what petty-noble's ambitions she was furthering today.
Rocking easily with the launches movement through the surf, she puts the padding over her torso, ruefully wondering where her fine rapier had got to. Probably adoring the hip of some Hastian prick.
Ah, just another reason to hate the bastards.
Nearly wetting his kilt Owain moves forward and hacks after the closest enemy.
Reeling back and yelling Owain attacks again for the moment forgetting his magic.
Dagmar hadn't been able to find anything too protective, but she'd happily scrounged the best she could. A spear was far too unwieldy, not to mention too likely to make people think she was a real solider. So instead she clutched at her dagger and tried to find someone even bigger to stand behind...
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The battle rages on...the two groups clash together, separate then come together again. Fighting just to stay alive you notice the roar of battle has slowly been replaced by a different sound. The warriors around you step back from their enemy and look around as the daylight begins to turn a sickly green. Looking at the sky you can see what appears to be a burning object slowly arching across the land...a tail of bright green embers drifting to the earth behind it.
Suddenly it seems like everything speeds up and the object soars over the battlefield faster than you could ever imagine and with a loud "BOOM" it is gone. The warriors look around in confusion as what appears to be a greenish rain falls from the sky.
Seeing his opponent is not looking Owain looks for a fallen warrior with a shield, dashes to it and holds it over his head.
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You hold the shield over your head, and while a few drops of the odd mist settles upon you, nothing bad happens. You are just about ready to throw down the shield and retreat back to your lines when you hear a scream from not far off to your left. One of the enemies mages has somehow caught fire and now burns like a tallow-dipped torch. Another scream comes from the distance behind you and then another and another until there are several voices in pain all about you. All seem to be mages of some stripe, including a few enemy Inquisitors. Your not sure what is happening, when a new cry of surprise is raised. You can see, not but a few steps away from you a soldier get up from the ground and look around. The horrific thing is this soldier is missing most of its face. The dead from the battleground are starting to rise! Never have you heard of such a thing. Soon the battle is on, but this time it is the living fighting the newly risen dead. Soldiers from both sides band together to try and escape this horror.
Eyes wide Dagmar looks at the rising corpses with her gorge rising. If the sergeants who'd been hoping to drive her and hers forward seem distracted, she takes off running.
Bad enough to die for something like this; it's even worse if you have to get up right after...
Faen stumbles into the surf with the other conscripts, lurching onto shore scowling as the 'sergeants' whip the company into some semblance of order.
She sets herself ready for combat when the strange green orb appears. Frowning, she watches as it rains down it's magic, wondering at the artificer that crafted such a thing.
Only when the dead begin to rise up against the living does all of their predicament come to the fore. Such power, assuming it's the Ankhu wizard-priests work, against friend and foe.
She shakes her head at the wrongness of it all, then shouts to her 'comrades' to rally together, for only together were they going to survive to see the rest of the day.
About to call in some magical aid from the earth, Owain thinks better about it and hefts his new shield, looks around for a better axe than this piece of bent metal he was issued with and joins the fray.
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Finding a passable axe that had been dropped by a fleeing soldier, Owain looks around for a target and notices one of the undead moving towards an unsuspecting soldier who is calling to her allies to rally but her back is to the creature.
The chaos of the battlefield means that no one is watching anyone...well not completely true. Most are watching their friends and allies rise from the dead. As such, running away sounds like a fantastic idea, except the battlefield has now spread all over the beach and up onto the coastal fields. It will take time to wend your way out of this melee, and most likely you will need to fight before you win your way free!
Running forward and raising the axe high Owain smashes his axe in the undead.
Dagmar does her best to avoid getting tied down, using her experience in the thick of things to turn aside grabs and claws, while moving towards the open field!
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Owain attempts to slash the undead creature, but the axe was weighted for a human, not a dwarf, and as such, it slightly twists in his hands and does no damage...but it does bring you to its attention. It swings its limbs at the dwarf, trying to grab him.
Attack:
The undead are slow and Dagmar easily slips past the grasping hands of the creatures with little difficulty. She stops at the edge of the battle, looking over the chaos. She sees Faen trying to rally the troops as a zombie approached her from behind. Before Dagmar can react, a dwarf moves forward and attempts to slay the beast, but the attack is weak. The monster turns to this new threat and reaches for the dwarf who wears the armour of Ankhu.
Hearing a commotion close behind her, Faen turns to see one of the risen just turning away to assail a dwarf...bearing the arms of Ankhu.
Faen shrugs, as she said, they were all in this battle together...
She heft her spear, but wields it like a staff, attempting to brain the unnatural creature...
Owain continues his attack.
Faen frowns as her solid hit doesn't seem to phase the undead solider, deciding to take an different tack.
Taking a page from the example of the other magic users she saw in the battle, she draws upon the heat of the sand and air, attempts to manifest fire with which to burn down her unnatural foe...
Unless there's something preventing it or making it seem riskier or less profitable than turning around and fighting an undead army, Dagmar continues to flee...
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Faen feels a sudden burning within herself as she calls the magic to do her bidding. It fights her like a wild creature, untamed and full of violence. She is just able to keep ahold of the threads of elemental fire and direct it towards the undead monster before it bursts her control and roars into life. Left feeling more exhausted than she should have, she realizes that something has happened to the streams of magic in this world and it is going to take some time and practice to regain control of even the most simplistic spells. On the plus side, the corpse that she had aimed the wildfire at was now nothing but a pile of ash!
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Owain's swing catches the hideous beast across the face, cutting deep into its slack and expressionless face. Suddenly, like a puppet with its strings cut, the monster drops to the ground...no longer animated by whatever horrid magics brought it to life.
Nearby, a corpse burst into flames, and a surprised soldier seems slightly staggered by her action.
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Dagmar turns to run but is suddenly confronted by a zombie the is quickly consumed by fire...leaving only a dusting of ash to cover her boots. Nearby a dwarf nearly sears the top of one of the creatures heads off, dropping it like a pole-axed ox. The three of you are on the edge of the battlefield as the recently risen continue to batter the main armies.
Faen looks down at her hands then up and around at something only she can see. Her look of consternation belies the satisfaction that she was able to do something with the confused magical energies.
She looks at the dwarf then the soldier, "Well I for one have decided I've done my duty and will seek my fortune in a place far removed from this damnable battle...."