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Sendor War: The Evacuation of Blar

Page history last edited by rgs 14 years, 10 months ago

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* The Front Lines *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

This is a hilly area on the outskirts of southern Sendor. Bludguni and Myrrish troops face each other across a wide valley. With the spring thaw, the entire valley has been churned into a disgusting, bloody mud by the two armies. Bludguni forces currently hold the pass and the high ground, and are camped behind the hills. The Myrddion army is camped a little distance away, by a stream fed from a different, cleaner valley without a handy pass. Up near the head of the valley, the Bludgun army has left behind a huge mass grave that is said to be haunted.

Near the Myrrish camp, far away from the actual front lines as to be considered fairly 'safe' at the moment, is the de-facto command center and entertainment establishment in the area, a tavern called the Blushing Rosalia. It's somewhat the worse for wear, but the many officers and adventurers in the army provide the owners with a steady supply of coin.

Not far from the Blushing Rosalia are the numerous tents that make up the field hospital, where the wounded are brought back to be healed. The air near those tents smells of whiskey and herbal poultices.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Karelin Tattooed Korite warrior. Tall, dark and scarred. 5m 12m

Xander Tall, handsome, goatee-wearing human mage. 50s 1h

Darshan Mechagodzilla 2s 3h

Whirlpool 0s 1d

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Myrrish Camp <MC> Fort Getty's <FG> Road To Sendor <RTS>

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Kennedy has arrived.

Alina has arrived.

It is a typical day on the front lines.

There were a few skirmishes today, but no major battles have been fought. The day is cool and the front veiled with a fine mist of rain and fog this evening.

All in all, everything is as well as it can be for life on the front lines of a pitched battle against ogres, orcs, goblins and Hobs.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* The Front Lines *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Kennedy Chubby halfling nerd. 6m 1h

Karelin Tattooed Korite warrior. Tall, dark and scarred. 6m 20m

Xander Tall, handsome, goatee-wearing human mage. 8m 1h

Darshan Mechagodzilla 0s 3h

Whirlpool 21s 1d

Alina Silver winged, silver haired, purple eyed, ethereal b 3m 48m

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Myrrish Camp <MC> Fort Getty's <FG> Road To Sendor <RTS>

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Karelin is hunkered down, in his coat instead of his battle armour -- since he's scouting and plugging holes in an irregular fashion, instead of Being Imposing. He's, in fact, eating nuts and berries, trying to stave off his hunger away from camp.

Past the nuts and berries, a pair of men, or rather, a man and a lizard, carry a litter. Darshan grimaces as the one on the litter thrashes, waving her arms occasionally in wide windmills that only encourage the litter to be dumped. A priest walks by, grabbing for one of her hands, and she falls back into it, mumbling about flying things. The priest whispers softly, patting her hand, and the sith focuses on the dirty road ahead of them.

Xander has just finished his round of inspecting the mages on the field. He is on horseback and looks slightly tired, but not TOO displeased with the inspection. A squinting glance is given to the unseen battlefield, veiled in the mists as it is. Obsidian, the horse, distractedly nips at a sprout of grass nearby.

Alina arrives into the area, bearing a basket of various plants and herbs. She's furrowing her brow in thought, poking around in the basket, her lips moving as she mumbles to herself the ingredients needed for some healing concoction or another.

Chandrakanta has arrived.

The sound of hooves can be heard. Thundering through the camp. A single rider calling for men to make way.

Chandrakanta pops her head up at the sound of the rider, a hood pulled up to save her from the mist. She looks about with a deeply knitted brow. Definitely curious what the rush is over.

Djordo has arrived.

Obsidian's ears perk, swiveling towards the source of the noise. The warmage turns in his saddle to glance in the direction himself, intent on seeing what the commotion is all about. And, of course, to see if he will need to move out of the way himself. He takes the reins up more firmly, forcing the horse to abandon its impromptu grass-tuft meal.

The woman looks about as well as you'd expect on a battlefield. Her arms, fingers, show some sort of burn. The skin's reddened pink at its edges--not yet crimson, but with a danger of getting that way. "Reminds me of my time on the battlefield."

"You're on one. Sir," from the human helping hold the litter.

"Oh! Yes, well...yes. I just think the fireballs were bigger in those days..."

The woman on the litter groans, and mumbling something that probably sounds like--wait, yes, it /is/...and it's quickly lost beneath the sound of the riders' hooves. After some juggling, Darshan, the human, the priest manage to maneuver the litter to the side of the incoming horseman.

And the priest bumps into Xander's horse. "Oh! ...excuse me!" silence. "Well, I think our horses used to be bigger, too..."

Karelin pops his head up, and looks towards the rider. He brushes his hands off, and approaches, frowning, nose twitching at the smell.

Alina looks up as she hears the call to make way, and she frowns again, glancing from the riders to her basket. She hops to the side, hopefully out of the way, and her wings shift, as she attempts to make herself as small as she can and not get in the way.

"Make way," says the rider, wearing a dirty, muddy myrrish uniform. "Sir!" He dismounts, then bursts into a tent nearby. His voice is loud enough to be heard. "Sir! I bring urgent news!" He rasps, making a choked sound.

The captain that he's speaking to moves to the front of the tent, closes the flaps, but there's no hiding the louder tones that they're using.

"What is it, son?"

Arngrim has arrived.

Chandrakanta stands, brushing muck from her front as she begins to move towards the activity surrounding the horse and the injured carried by it. Not wanting to get in the way of the real healers, she avoids the injured and works her way towards the tent in attempt to listen in.

The priest waves to the liter-carriers, urging them to place the same litter onto the ground. "Come to think of it, I think our litters were--"

And, burned as she is, the woman kicks him. It's a determined, feeble kick, but it gets the point across. "Rather...rather be out hitting those og...damn fireballs..."

"Well, the fireballs /used/ to be bigger..."

"Don't want to hear about the size of some mage's..."

And the litter-carriers beat a hasty retreat. One of them, less-hasty. The sith'makar looks up towards the mage-on-a-horse, then towards the runner-on-a-horse, and, "Evening," wry. "I see you're mrm, joining in the festivities." And then a concerned look Alina's way as the woman maneuvers. He takes a step as though to help, but she seems well enough.

Djordo and the coyote are in a muddied foxhole of their own design, though mostly the coyote's. Shaped a bit like a den, though with the roof of it unceremoniously flattened down, the Tsurai and the dog are flattened down against the skyline and keeping watchful eye for incoming horribleness and watchful ear for allies on the march.

Obsidian, Xander's all black horse, turns to the offending priest, as if briefly pondering whether it's worth the effort to bite him for the transgression. The warmage himself nods the entourage a pleasant greeting. "It is no matter." he says, but his attention is mostly on hearing what in the hells is happening. Not eavesdropping, you realize - it doesn't count as that when they're not hiding it, does it?

"A column of Hobgoblins, sir! Coming our way!"

"What? Where?"

"South west of our position sir, but-"

"Sound the alarm! They're trying to flank us!"

"Sir, they're carrying the banner of Blar!"

"...oh, bother." Both the captain and the rider emerge from the tent, where others are beginning to assemble.

Alina's eyes return to the person running into the tent, and her brows arch. She catches sight of Darshan, and quirks a friendly smile, waving to him. Her attentions goes back to the tent as she hears them, and she meanders, not so subtly, closer to hear better.

Chiddle has arrived.

"This could turn out to be a very good, or a very bad night." Xander asides to Darshan. It is only now that he spies the others, offering a nod of greeting, even as he spurs the horse into motion. "I hope this is not because our... friends... had thought along the same lines as you did." spoken to Karelin, as the horse is halted, momentarily, beside the man.

Karelin turns, looks up, and nods, as he waves towards Chandrakanta. He notes to the mage. "Well, we -will- find out, won't we."

The warrioress fell on the last mrm, assault," the sith says, after a while. "They burned the lot of them. ...any idea what that--" it freezes, and the muzzle...snaps...shut. "Srassha," he says, distinctly, "Was out hunting." His mount's out there, meaning. He says nothing after that, but...remembering something, reaches back to grasp the haft of a polearm. Heavy, cold, it looks otherwise plain. And he looks otherwise upset. Alina's wave's returned, with a concerned look, as well.

Chandrakanta lifts her chin towards Karelin, "I think someone needs to find Engel." She tries to brush a bit more dirt off her layers.

Djordo sits up from his collapsed coyote den, as a murmur runs through the group. The small animal skitters off a bit, leaving the Tsurai there as it seeks a place to sit and hide, partially obscured. Djordo merely takes off his hat and stands, moving to the sound of gathering voices and the feeling of anticipation.

Chiddle makes his way out of the engineer's section, as it becomes apparent that things are going down. He has his crossbow at the ready, and his drog is sitting next to him.

Karelin glances at Chandra, and nods. "Good point." He looks up: "ENGEL!" he bellows. "WHERE ARE YOU?" A pause, then he coughs. "A messenger, then."

Alina starts at the bellow from Karelin, and she gives Karelin and Chandra a quick nod. Darshan gets eyed a bit closely, and then the priestess comments, "You look different. New armor?" She tips her head to Xander, too, and then just looks around, quietly, her fingers toying with the plants she carries.

Kennedy has disconnected.

Chandrakanta reaches up, rubbing her brow as soon as Karelin starts to shout. "So subtle." She says under her breath, "I saw him a few days ago, I hope he's not out in the forest.." She looks to see if anyone is giving Karelin's call a serious look, instead of just startled.

Chiddle so far isn't entirel sure what's going on, just that there is talk of Hobgoblins closing in, so he's ready to lend his crossbow and contraptions in aid of Alexandria and the Myrris forces.

The comment gets an almost-grin from the sith, quickly dropped at an uneasy glance towards the plains. "Yes, Sister. You could say that..." but all that comes is a far-away roar, a bellow of some kind from those outward stretches. He looks frustrated as he turns back around. It shows in the look, the lash of tail. "You could say that," he manages. Then, "How have you been?" terse, uneasy.

-------------------- At a glance around The Front Lines --------------------

Chiddle 16s 3'4" 44 Lb

Gnome, Unusually Dark hair, Leather and Waistcoat.

Arngrim 18m 8'9" 1045 Lb Giant-Blood

An impossibly colossal man. Did we mention he's huge?

Djordo 1m 5'10" 163 Lb

Ruddy Tsurai fellow in oddly mixed linens and hide.

Chandrakanta 4m 5'6" 140 Lb Human/Veyshanti Gurl

Dredlocked Veyshanti Averite with ink and blades.

Alina 7m 5'10" 155 Lb Aasimar Female

Silver winged, silver haired, purple eyed, ethereal beauty, with a wicke

Darshan 0s 6'4" 274 Lb Sith'makar Male

Mechagodzilla

Xander 8m 6'1" 184 Lb

Tall, handsome, goatee-wearing human mage.

Whirlpool 2m Lb

Karelin 6m 6'2" 232 Lb Human Male

Tattooed Korite warrior. Tall, dark and scarred.

==============================================================================

Xander glances at Karelin, briefly, with brow raised, but that's pretty much all the reaction he gets. The horse is turned, led to Darshan and Alina once more at a slow pace, the latter of whom he inclines towards in the saddle, a quarter-bow. "Priestess. I did not know you were on the battlefield as well. It is good to see you." he says.

Even before anyone has a chance to do much more than shout for Engel or being preparing, another scout can be heard rushing towrds the center of the camp.

"Sir! There's a Hobgoblin demanding to see you, sir! He says he's from Blar!"

Wow, that was fast. This was probably on purpose by the Hobs, of course.

Captain Sivisky is not a happy man. This grey haired Myrrish Captain looks even less pleased with the idea of more Hobgoblins being about than he does with one already having made their way to the camp. "Bring him here."

Indeed, it isn't long before a bedraggeled, dirty looking Hobgoblin is brought to the center of the camp, witnessed by one and all.

Alina squints at Darshan some more, and then she smiles again, "Well enough, one could say." To Xander, she remarks, "Oh, aye. People need healing..." She watches the scout run about the place, then focuses on the hobgoblin.

Ceres has arrived.

Chiddle blinks a little, lowering his crossbow to point at the ground though keeping it loaded as it becomes apparent this particular Hobgoblin might not be that bad.

Chandrakanta cants her head as the hobs approach, making her curiosity with a stern expression. She stops fussing with the dirt on her clothing. "No Engel then.."

Carmina has arrived.

Karelin straightens up, standing with Chandra as he watches the scene unfold. His hand strays towards hte hilt of his sword, as he starts looking for other threats.

Ceres has disconnected.

Xander nods to Alina, before his attention is wrenched back to that which is happening nearby. He frowns, lightly, keeping the horse steady as he simply watches and listens.

Ceres has connected.

The Hobgoblin is out of breath himself, coughing before he manages to say, "...Blar has been evacuated. I've come to ask for safe passage through your camp on our way to Alexandria."

Oh no.

"A deatchment of the Blar First Cavalry will remain here to help fight Bludgun's forces in Sendor." He produces a scroll, carefully, from his pouch, "I have a proclamation from the council in Alexandria granting safe refuge to any all Blarese refugees from the fighting." One probably did not imagine that the Council assumed they'd be evacuating the entire city.

Carmina comes riding up on horseback, just in time to hear this announcement. The color drains from her face as this announcement is made.

NOTE: The log breaks, here. I had to take a brief break. From what I can tell there were lots of questions about the ziggurat. If I get hold of a copy, I'll provide it. :)

"Many people are honorable people." says Arngrim, unperturbed by those stepping up to validate the hobgoblins. But he does relent as he adds, "..But I would not see ill doings done to anyone, no matter their birth or race. It is not right." He pauses and then adds, "Except maybe a gnome. And goblins. And gremlins."

The hobgoblin wipes his dirty brow, shrugging at the various questions tossed his way. "It was the decision of the General Staff." He clearly does not look happy about it. Neither does Captain Savinsky. "Form up a column, men. Get to their Hobgoblins and make sure they make it through the front lines to safety." Several men salute and begin to do just that.

The Hobgoblin finds a place to sit down.

Chiddle shrugs as everyone talks about hoor and whatnot- he was less concerned with that, and more anxious to hear- "Did they attack with airships?" ah of course. Artificer asks about technology. of course, being near the back of the crowd, one can likely barely see him, let alone hear him.

Karelin looks around, and then mutters. "Then we'd better damned well find the General Staff, then." He starts to deploy himself towards the front lines as well. A little added security.

Xander approaches the Hobgoblin, hopping from his horse and offering his waterskin, seeing how tired and bedraggled the messenger looks. "Nothing else but a decision? The city is not under siege by Bludgun's forces?" he asks, calmly, contemplative.

Carmina slides off her horse to get closer to the hobgoblin, still waiting for information. She offers him a clean handkerchief for that dirty brow.

"Perhaps...it becomes tough with Alexandria's eye divided," after a long pause. Darshan's look is odd, so odd as he listens and watches the tired hob. "One...I've...there were mrm, whispers. Worries that it might get bad," though he doesn't say from who, or what by. The sith's tail moves slowly, the tail-rings whisping, clinking against one another.

"Oh, we were *going* to be," says the Hobgoblin scout, dryly, to Xander. He shakes his head at Chiddle. "They were getting ready to, that's for sure." He rubs his eyes. He takes the handkerchief from Carmina, wipes his brow with it. It's very dirty. "Thank you," he tells her in his accented common.

Djordo has learned a very little about Blar in recent days, so his ears prick up at the telling. "Evacuated?" He speaks to himself, and looks for the coyote--it is not to be found. Knowing that is it's way, he weaves his way through the lines to stand within earshot of Carmina, and looks for Xander, two faces he knows of late in this sea of unfamiliar persons. Arngrim excluded, ever the reassuring presence.

Arngrim begins to relax more although he watches those who seem to have had the most dealings with Blar carefully. His heavy brow furrows somewhat in confusion at their behavior conerning the evacuation and he draws nearer towards Darshan while musing, "Is an exodus of the people that strange? If the city is nto easily defended from enemy forces and is in threat of attack..... Removing those most vulnerable to harm to an allied nations camp is not a strange tactic, is it? It does not seem as if any particular atrocity has happened, simply an act of prudency on behalf of that cities..hrn..general staff? One would think the seme would be done with Alexandria..though it is maybe unfeasibly large.."

Karelin rasps out, "And the Temple? What of the Temple?" His question takes on a certain urgency, as he shadows the hobgoblin.

Carmina nods. "You are welcome," she replies. Glancing at Karelin and the mention of the temple, she frowns.

"Secured," is the only thing the Hobgoblin will say. "We made sure of that before we went. It'd take them years to dig anything out of the Fallen Ziggurat of Thul." He swallows, pouring water over his head and then drinking some, nodding towards Djordo. "Evacuated."

Columns of men are forming, yes, getting ready to march out towards where the Hobs are said to be.

The sith just...nods. After a time. "Then mrm, one's concern for your families," and he...doesn't grimace while he says it, just looks at the man oddly and sadly. And doesn't add a thing more except to tap his shoulder with a light clawtip. "They are all evacuated?" To be sure.

The news of the temple doesn't seem to ease things for Chandra, "but you are all here? Did you leave any scouts behind to get word back as to what they are doing in the city?"

Ceres finds a familiar figure in everything - well, a couple. But one's on a horse, so the elf makes her way over towards a former employer, and asks Darshan, "You have been there before?" eyes still on the hob.

"Good. Good." Xander nods at the messenger, letting him keep the waterskin. He stands, moving back to his horse. He doesn't seem convinced, however. Not entirely. There is always a way... The magus returns to the saddle, turning the steed, apparently intent on joining the troops on their escort duty.

"Is everyone ok?" Carmina asks. "Was anyone there hurt?" She steps back, patting her horse to comfort the animal, waiting for more information.

Alina is watching and listening, alert and wide eyed as an owl. She hangs slightly back, watching Karelin and the hobgoblin as they discuss the Temple. Her lips thin, but she doesn't offer much.

Karelin nods, hands flexing a little as he relaxes. "Then the evacuation is temporary. Because they will take years to excavate the temple, given the chance." He straightens up, and nods, as he looks towards the front lines.

"Several priests of Vardama assured us that they would know if... the temple is disturbed in any great way or form," he tells her. "But beyond that, I can say nothing more. To most of us they speak little of what went on within the walls of the Temple and what was to be done to what remained."

"Ideally," he tells Karelin, "it will be. But Bludgun must be defeated for us to retake our place. Our position was otherwise unsustainable."

"Fall in!" The columns have formed up and begin to head out. The Hobgoblin looks back and forth. "I should go with them. You're Alexandrians and some of you are the Heroes. It would be good if you came to welcome us."

Arngrim frowns, growing more confused but also slightly concerned as talk of buried temples begins to filter through the air and Darshan's nod confirms the thought that there is much more to Blar then just a city of (possibly drunk!) hobgoblins, "What is this temple you speak of? You say it is to one of the dark gods? The Bludgun.. They seek it?"

Chiddle nods his head, "Ah... well, let me know if you see any unusual airships." he says, somewhat cryptically, and a little ueslessly given that these guys are heading away from the front lines. Looking between the group he says, "So, I suppose this will be our queue to begin pushing forward?"

Carmina nods and climbs up on her horse. "Let's go," she says, generally. "Do you need any maps?" she offers.

"One has heard...stories," the sith says after a few moments, tearing his gaze from the hobgoblin. He listens to the man, and nods...before dropping a hand on Ceres' shoulder and drawing her away a few spaces. His polearm he shifts to the other shoulder. "...there have been...discussions," at length, and a low voice. "The...at certain dinners...one has heard concern. Understand, these are human politics, and I am repeating what I have heard," a longer pause. "Certain of the nobility admit that Alexandria's helping here diverts troops there. Blar was recently won," a pause. "Now, so young a nation, it finds itself with fewer forces. Funds. So in helping one nation, another's been..." he drops silent. "No one has an easy choice. Their familes were there. And a...temple. A very dark temple, that they were guarding. But one cannot forget the families," the last, almost sharply as he turns half-around to regard the hob, the look almost...well. It's suddenly bland.

"I think they care less for that," says the Hobgoblin to Arngrim, "than they do the slap in the face that Blar delivered when we broke away from Bludgun. They were coming for us. We knew that as soon as Alexandria entered the war against Bludgun." He smiles. Then smiles tuskily at Darshna's bland look to him. "No, no. No maps.." People do begin mounting up, yes, and the Hob is given a horse as well. Soon enough, you're setting out overland.

Karelin sets out, mood grim, on watch for aggressors, as he goes. His body is bent slightly with the weight of worry, expectation.

"You will be welcomed in the Battlehall with the others from your nation," Chandra speaks up, still not satisfied with the answers. "Someone should alert the Priestess.. And does Zak know?" She's speaking mostly aloud to herself.

"Hn..Averium's arms may be large but from the sounds of it, your Battlehall won't be able to embrace what's about to start coming your way, else Blar is less a city and nation and more tavern full of hobgoblins." says Arngrim thoughtfully as he overhears Chandra. "This sounds....busy.." He hauls his great maul up and shoulders it again and begins to slowly fall in line behind the others.

"Well, it sounds like the sooner we finish here, the sooner most will be returned to normal business. This business of battle has turned out to be almost more distastful than business of the city." Of course, city business involved poo, so that's not really saying much. The horses that others are gathering up, has her wrinkling her nose a touch. "I should really see about procuring myself a proper mount," before looking up at the sith'maker, then towards the group out. A quick check of pockets has her sighing a bit, then moving forward.

"They're helpful," Darshan agrees, and tenses again--a quick look towards the line and back before lowering his voice again, "Srassha's still out there. If you see her..." the rest goes unsaid, and the sith reaches into his pocket, and grasps hold of something which he passes over. "You can use this?" he asks her, after a time. And nods to Alina on the way. "Priestess!"

Ceres claims that pose.

Xander, ever gallant, directs his horse to where the elven minstrel is, offering her a hand up into the saddle. No sense going on foot when there's gentlemen about, is there?

"Then I will open my families house and give up my room at the inn." Chandra crosses her arms as she walks. Her brow knitted in thought.

Ceres carefully takes the small wooden device from Darshan, and offers a bright grin. "She is alright, correct?" she inquires, before taking the small item, and looking out. The grin goes up in wattage, "I can indeed - I shall make sure to use it well.." she assures Darshan, putting the small wand away in her belt, before taking Xander's offered hand, "Thank you, Warmage. Are you a good judge of horse flesh? I am considering the currant requirements to procure my own..."

So off you go.

Riding along the battered countryside to the southwest. In the distance, you can see the plumes of dust from the travel of many coming your way and your way to them. The armed soldiers of the Myrrish forces are also making their way their. Griffon riders keep track of things above... and then they're suddenly signalling that something is amiss. It's hard to mistake the signals coming from them, the flashing of mirrors to the ground forces in a specific pattern indicating trouble ahead.

And there *is* trouble ahead. BLudgun, it would appear, was not going to let them get away without a fight. Indeed, it would appear that even as you crest over the hillside where the Blarites are presently at, you quickly spot that they're engaged with what appears to be a motley, non-uniformed brigade of soldiers, a mix of humans, orcs, goblins and others. A mercenary company sent to destroy the Blarites before they could escape Bludgun's reach, no doubt.

Captain Savinsky orders the attack, immediately.

NOTE: From here, the RP split into two groups. You can read the logs, here:

Sendor War: The Evacuation of Blar: The Drans Army

Sendor War: The Evacuation of Blar: ...?

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* The Front Lines *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Chandrakanta Dredlocked Veyshanti Averite with ink and blades. 5s 11h

Chinook A warm, gentle breeze. OR IS IT?! 27m 1h

Xander Tall, handsome, goatee-wearing human mage. 42s 7h

Arngrim An impossibly colossal man. Did we mention he's huge? 2m 5h

Djordo Ruddy Tsurai fellow in oddly mixed linens and hide. 12m 11h

Darshan Mechagodzilla 0s 9h

Whirlpool 15s 1d

Ceres Silver-haired elf, tall and extremely graceful 27m 4h

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Myrrish Camp <MC> Fort Getty's <FG> Road To Sendor <RTS>

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Darshan returns, leading his mount by her rein. Across her back, a heavy, great-sized half-orc. His hands are bound, his feet--a rough gag in his mouth. The sith, too, occasionally hits him over the head when or if he threatens to wake up. The pair walk alongside Djordo and Ceres. A great sword, too, of dubious composure--it flickers ominously, and is carried, chained, and some space away from the knocked-out creature.

All in all, the battle is done.

The enemy has been routed and everyone is able to get back together. The Myrrish forces are helping the Hobs to reorganize their beleagured civilians and, with the presence of a dragon, their safety is no doubt assured for now.

People are now once again beginning to reassemble.

Chandrakanta wipes blood off her weapons, sheathing them. She hears the others speaking of the battle and the other's talents. "Hopefully that sent a strong message to Bludgun." Her wounds having begun to heal thanks to the clerics about. "Did we lose many? And who were those humans fighting with them? Slaves?" She begins to ask those close to her.

Xander appears to feel quite badly in the aftermath of the skirmish. While his wounds don't seem to have him anywhere near death, the mage looks somewhat weakened and pale regardless. Frost is clinging to his clothing, and there are... some very odd injuries to be seen where his flesh shows. He is, presently, standing over the remains of what might've once been a blue-skinned ogre. It's sporting acid burns and signs of quite a lot of smashing. Through the warmage's efforts, said remains are not all in one piece anymore, either. "Make sure these remains are consecrated by the priests, and then possibly burnt." he's telling a bewildered soldier. "The weapon, too." There's a pause. "Now, exuse me. I must... see a healer-cleric. One following the Platinum Dragon may be best."

Djordo carries a badly wounded coyote whose wounds are nonetheless stabilized, and it seems alert despite the injury, though uncharacteristically complacent. The man seems somewhat contemplative, but not sullen. "I'm not sure," he says to the last question, "I believe they were mercenaries. They fought more bravely than bandits, but as dishonorable as any cornered cutpurse. I believe more refugees than soldiers may have been wounded, but I know some were struck, as was my companion here."

"The lure of gold covers a multitude of racial and national lines." speaks Arngrim as the giant man steps into view, "It does not surprsie me that a mercenary army would consist of more then just monsters.."

"...Xander?" Darshan looks at the mage, alarmed. Absently hits the half-orc on the head, again. "What in the--" a pause, he bites his tongue. Tries something else. "...what happened to you?" The figure on the swift mutters, and is konked again. Twice, before he passes out, and starts to drool on the swift's saddle. The half-orc's huge, gigantic...clearly Dranei or related. Despite Srassha's height, his hands drag on the ground. Are dirty. Covered in blood.

Arngrim notes this but does not seem especially surprised still and he makes this plain by noting, "The Dranei merceanry armies can be found all over Gaea, in wars for every creed, culture and nation. Do not be surprised if you come across more and ones more potent then this one apparently was."

"Then they should be given no more mercy then the armies of Bludgun if I encounter them again." Chandra pulls a wand from a slender pouch on her belt, "There are many who need healing.. and dead to tend to."

"Do me a small favor, paladin." Xander says to Darshan, looking up at the lizardman. "Scan me for demonic taint." Ain't that the loveliest request he'd ever made? He whistles, sharply, to summon his faithful steed. Obsidian trots over, looking bored, as if the mare did not just witness, and hide from, a huge battle.

"If that is your wish." says Arngrim to Chandra, unpeturbed by her implied ferocity, "After all, for the right amount of gold you would be given no quarter either...and Kor will take praise from either side for it is war irregardless." That said he looks at Darshan and at teh ginormous half-orc. "What will you do with him?"

A grimace, at Arngrim's analysis. "Potent or no...I need to get this man turned over to the priests. The Angorothi--it's my hope that they'd stand to have the best luck with him. If possible...one would see him brought over. If not..." Darshan pauses, and looks directly at Chandrakanta. "One asks...Chainbreaker, this man was one of their leaders. I'd give him first the chance to right his wrongs. If not, I understand your faith would have an interest in him." And well, well...Xander's query just...what do you say to something like that?

"I wonder if we will find what is left of the nightmares fighting for Bludgun? I would be happy to meet them in battle." Chandra speaks of things that come from her long involvement in these actions, "If the Drani can not convince him to see the light, perhaps we can."

Ceres has disconnected.

Xander waits a moment for Darshan to comply, hoisting himself into the saddle, turning the all-black steed for the camp. He seems intent on getting himself a check-up, so to speak, at the very least! Prisoners he leaves for others to sort through.

"You are noble, as always." says Arngrim to Darshan, "But I fear it will avail you little here. He is a hired mercenary and as such he likely knows no more then what he was told to do based on his contract. Chances are, in order to preserev his life from the hangmans noose, he will do whatever he feels is necessary, even if it means feigning a repentant heart. He is a mercenary and from the looks of it a Dranei mercenary. They do as they do. It is part of the culture." He glances at Chandra but that name does not seem to stir any memories so he just looks at her and then between her and Darshan and then the 'prisoner'.

Djordo thinks over what is being said of the large enemy warrior, and looks to Arngrim, remembering an earlier conversation. "You said it would be bad for all if warriors of this sort came from Dran to meet us in combat. If nothing else, now defeated, he could enlighten us as to how they were recruited and brought here. Disrupting their recruitment would be helpful, as would helping turn then against the cause, if they knew they were to be used so callously, fighting tired refugees. I would be interested to learn how they came to plan so neat a trap for us," he states. "If he cannot be turned, but bears us no ill-will, we may not need to kill him. But such matters are beyond me--I merely hope that instead of false repentance we could gain some use from his capture, and let his freedom be more honestly earned."

The relaxation that had come at the Chainbreaker's words leaves again, and the sith looks tiredly towards the Hammer. "I'll have faith in your priests," he says, simply. And a slow, not...quite...nice smile with it, "And the strength of their arms." Now it's a grin, a sad one, and he drops the rein before turning to look at Xander. And the grin just...fades. "Excuse me a moment," and he walks over that way.

"Veyshanti mercenaries, they captured me once, with the wives and children of some of the Alexandrian greathouses. Helped over run the city." Chandra answers the look she is given from the Dran. "Perhaps if Mother Mayhem can not convince him then the Hound might find some use for him. I do hear rumours he is to be joining the camp soon to aid in interrogations." She's hard to read when she speaks of the Hound, either this is good news or bad news.

"The event took place when I had journeyed north for some time." says Arngrim after Chandra finishes. He seems to be piecing things together bit by bit. He then shrugs helplessly at Darshan and then glances at the prisoner and then over to Djordo, "To take a prisoner is a heavy burden." he says, "But he is your prisoner... And Darshans..to do with as you please. Take care it does not backfire. Not all priests of Angoron are kindly just as not all Dranei mercenaries are an evil." He turns at this point and begins to make his way towards a makeshift medical camp.

At... The sith'makar grimaces. It isn't what he wanted to hear. It /isn't/. He lets out an explosive breath, and then looks to Chandra, "Take him, please," simply. "If the Agorothi thinks it a bad idea, then mrm, there's no use. Perhaps you'll find something, like Djordo said." He heads over to Xander.

Djordo seems surprised at that. "My prisoner? No sir, I had no hand in his capture. I slew one small mercenary, and that was enough for me and my coyote--though you'll find many more who were quite obligingly held up a while when they came tromping through the underbrush," he says of his entanglement magics. "Surely we can buy his information. I believe it would also be dangerous to become known as a nation who does not take prisoners, but I am not versed in the ways of war."

Xander nods to Darshan, happy enough to ride alongside him on the trek back, it seems. The magus looks ponderous, contemplative, directing the horse into a slow trot. He doesn't seem inclined to offer his opinions on the captive Darshan has acquired yet.

Chandrakanta fiddles with the wand as she listens and waits for Darshan's response, finaly giving in to heal herself. "The healers have too much to do. Those more seriously injured then myself." Nevermind the wicked wounds she appears to have taken, "The methods the assassin used, they were familiar to me." Her tone touched with anger, "I wonder if they trained with the one the garnak's sent after me some time ago. I should search what is left of his body, to see if there is anything there that might tell me if I am right." She looks at the prisoner that Darshan is handing off to her, "You really are going to enjoy Mother Mayhem." She warns him.

"You look like you're going to fall off," wry, as the mage picks up speed. Darshan looks back, and when the Chainbreaker nods, nods also. Srassha licks her muzzle, and stays where she is--the prisoner's on her back for the moment, and after a while, of not much happening, lowers her head to 'graze,' perhaps to see if any rodents dare scurry by. He heads off with the mage to see the priests. And garner bandaids.

================================= Sendor War =================================

Message: 18/12 Posted Author

The Evacuation of Blar Thu May 07 Whirlpool

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With Blar now apparently evacuated, its civilians and soldiers under escort by what would appear to be a rather large metallic dragon, they appear to've made their way on through rugged terrain all the way to Alexandria. Indeed, they have erected a great tent city outside of its walls, some distance away. A refugee camp of sorts. Some of the Blar 1st Cavalry has remained at the front lines to assist in the fighting against the Bludgunish forces in Sendor.

Needless to say a large number of Hobgoblins encamped on Alexandrian land is not suiting many very well, and indeed, tensions and fearful accusations of potential espionage are already rising.

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