Battle of the Hymn. (a second look.)
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darthdavid
- Pathetic Attention Whore
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- Joined: 2003-02-17 12:04pm
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I'm thinking that there is a word limit, and since I posted more or less four chapters in one post, I'm guessing it cut some off. I'm trying to fix it.
You'll just have to reread it....
You'll just have to reread it....
They say, "the tree of liberty must be watered with the blood of tyrants and patriots." I suppose it never occurred to them that they are the tyrants, not the patriots. Those weapons are not being used to fight some kind of tyranny; they are bringing them to an event where people are getting together to talk. -Mike Wong
But as far as board culture in general, I do think that young male overaggression is a contributing factor to the general atmosphere of hostility. It's not SOS and the Mess throwing hand grenades all over the forum- Red
But as far as board culture in general, I do think that young male overaggression is a contributing factor to the general atmosphere of hostility. It's not SOS and the Mess throwing hand grenades all over the forum- Red
Chapter 4
The Incredible Mister Quinn
We took our time riding back to the City, Lonestar’s and Edi’s lances scouring the terrain around Wilkes’s battle weary troops. I rode with Wilkens all the way back for comfort, if indeed he so desired.
It proved to be of little worry, for my Sergeant seemed to snap out of his dreary melancholy once we left sight of the battle ground. He reverted back to his soft, good humor later that same after noon.
Edi and his lance had small skirmishes from stragglers but the trip back was one of a kind of joyous celebration. We moved as one group, a large black mass of man and Taun, disturbing the quite rustle of the blue grass upon the plains.
The men and women of my company sharing their tales of glory and victory amongst the vile ravages of the Morlocks, and the mock surprise from the listeners of the heroic deeds that were conveniently done by the teller of the tale, filled the days as we journeyed back home.
Our leisurely pace found us just outside the Valley on the evening of the sixth day of our travels from the Eastern Marshes and we decided to take our rest at the Eastern Approaches for the night.
The Eastern Approach was a small tower built on the hillside of the eastern pass. It was built by the Watchmen who were assigned to stand watch on the pass. More of a shelter from the elements than a battlement, the tower was our sign that we were home.
It was always manned, usually by four members of the Watch, and no doubt that they had already seen us as we came over the horizon hours ago. In fact, it was probable that they had already dispatched a rider back to the city with the news of our return.
My hundred some odd men would not all fit into the tower but we could easily make camp on the flat ground where the tower stood and share in what ever stocks of fresh meat and vegetables the tower had and share those by the light of a fire than none on my patrol had seen in almost two weeks.
We crossed the river as it curved into the valley and you could see the moon shine off of the calm waters all the way to the distant lights of our home. My troop climbed the steep hill to the tower and I then hailed the Watchmen there.
As I had guessed, only three members of the Night Watch were in the tower, one having been dispatched hours earlier upon sighting my patrol. Those that remained gave haste to accommodate me and mine and even gave out rations of the ale they had with them.
With in an hour, my battle and travel weary troop had settled down and prepared to turn over their watch to their brethren in the tower. I partook of the hospitality of the tower and sat with the three while my men rested.
They seemed quite excited about our return but also giddy about the happenings in the City. When I questioned them they were quite cryptic, say such things as, “You’ll see when you arrive in the morning.” even more infuriating were responses such as, “My lord, it is a surprise and I wouldn’t wish to spoil it for you Captain.”
Normally such foolishness would madden me to no end but I was still grateful for the small comforts they gave my people and the unnecessary but appreciated sharing of their ale. I knew these men, Coyote’s as it were, and they were good men so I refrained from being angry with them and became content with finding out what great mystery awaited for us in the morning. I left their company, more so I didn’t loose my temper with their excited banter that they refused to share with me, and joined my Watchmen outside were I slept a peaceful night under the moons.
At dawn the next morning, my patrol being well rested, rode in perfect formation onto the City. The near completed walls of the city encircled the base of the mesa but the grand view of the Great Hall and the common houses that comprised the center of the city could be plainly seen.
We passed by various farmers in the fields upon our approach and cries of greeting were given to those who were well known. We then left the fields and crossed the river one last time before leading our mounts up the small ramp to the gate.
I hailed the gate and was glad to find that Rob himself was there to greet us. The two halves of the gate opened to admit us and we rode into our home as Rob bounded down from the top of the gate towers and moved to intercept us.
“Greetings Knife, I count one hundred heads and if I am not mistaken it is the same number you left with. Please do not tell me two weeks have passed and naught a thing was found?” He said with a broad smile.
I replied with a quick smile and slapped his back with my hand in friendship and said, “There is much to tell but me thinks that I should relate it only once so as not to forget any detail. We should go, the Council will want to hear of our exploits.”
“Aye,” He said, “And much has happened here that you should hear.”
I peered at him with a quizzical look, though having been tormented by the Watchmen at the Eastern Approaches last night, I must say that I was prepared for some taunt or tease of news.
“Well, my lord, I count as many roof tops this morning as I did upon my departure. What could have possibly have happened?” I said with a straight face.
His reply was a loud roar of laughter that continued as we marched up the hill towards the Court Yard and the Great Hall. I left my troop in the Court Yard under the capable hands of Edi, Wilkens and Lonestar, and followed Rob up and into the Great Hall. He left me in the Main Hall as he went to gather the Council.
As I stood there waiting, fresh from a good night sleep yet poor in appearance from two weeks of patrol and battle, I peered around the Hall hoping to spy out what great mystery that seemed to well up inside all in the city but was unable to spill out past their lips.
And found it I did. There are always small knots of people in the Great Hall, being that it is our seat of government. People constantly petitioning the Council and to a lesser extent the Night Watch, for their services. Today was no different. Perhaps a half a dozen people either sat or stood in the Main Hall with me as I awaited the Council to gather. Off in the corner though, I gazed upon something I have not seen in half a decade. A face I did not know.
Now, good reader, I know that in a group of roughly a thousand, really close to twelve hundred by this point because of a large boon of babies these last few years, a person may not know every single man or woman in detail. However, I have lived amongst these people for years in seclusion. I may not know them in vivid detail but I know them at least in face and in friendly passing.
But this man who sat casually in the corner was in no way familiar to me. The seemingly tall man of dark hair and light complexion caught my gaze and smiled a large toothy grin at me and immediately I knew I disliked him. It was a politician’s smile he shined upon me. One of those smiles that was only skin deep and served the purpose of hiding the emotions underneath rather than expressing kindness or friendship to those he smiled.
I walked up to him, still some what stunned by the fact that this was some one I have never met before.
He quickly stood as I approached and introduced himself, “Hello, my good man. Allow me to introduce my self. My name is Malcolm Quinn.” He said in a decidedly British accent as he bowed a quick bow.
“Who are you?” I asked.
His fake and phony smile continued as if he thought that some how it had worked on me, and I felt a hand upon my shoulder.
“He is a representative of the River Lands to the West.” Said Rob.
Behind him I could see the Council entering the room. “The what?” I asked.
Rob chuckled again and took me with his arm around me and directed me in front of the Council, “Tell your story first, then we’ll get to Mister Quinn.”
So I reported to the council, told them of the Morlock outposts concealed in the brush of the Plains. I related the story of the various skirmishes of Edi’s and Lonestar’s lances due to Wilkens effective scouring of those same posts.
And I told them of the battle of the Eastern Marches. The slaughter of the Morlocks and the heroics of Wilkens was of great interest to them and to my surprise, of Mister Quinn as well.
“You fools, you will disrupt the peace.” He exclaimed, rather rudely in my opinion, as I finished my report.
While the rest of the room looked concerned or shocked at the interruption, I was just annoyed. “What is this truce he speaks of and on that account, who is he?” I demanded.
Wong, sighed, and waved his hand calmly at Mister Quinn. “Calm your self Mister Quinn. All is not yet known. It is possible that mistakes were made but in ignorance not arrogance.
Captain Knife, this is Mister Quinn, though I’m sure by now you know his name. More importantly, he is the representative of the Western folk in the Riverlands. It seems that one of the last patrols out before you left came across them.
Far into the west, there are others who have been transported here. Wonderful news, to say the least. Mister Quinn here is part of a society that has been here for about a hundred years. And by his own tale, there are even more pockets of men from Earth scattered around the west. Some dating back hundreds of years. We are not alone, it would seem.” He announced for my benefit.
The rest of the council was more a blur of action than any thing. Discovering that our group was not unique, not a one of a kind community here on Tera was a mixture of relief and disappointment. We were not alone, yet we were not as special as some had thought. The whole thing was disquieting in light of the recent discovery of the Morlocks. This world seemed to be ever so close to becoming crowded when for five years we felt so isolated and alone.
As told by Mister Quinn, there seemed to be a new arrival every century. Every hundred years, a group of men and women would awake in the Expanse and make the trek out into the Western Forests.
Quinn’s Great Grandfather, an English Gentleman, awoke with the fellows of his literary club and had made their trek. They came across a township of Nineteenth Century American Trappers who made camp along one of the rivers in the West. They had made their home a hundred years before and discovered the French Mason’s living just north of where the Trappers had decided to settle.
All total, there were five settlements. Six if you count the Citadel. For the last five hundred years, the men and women who came to Tera, decided to make their own civilizations instead of banding with the Citadel, which represented the five hundred years of settlers before them.
The Citadel, as Mister Quinn related, were barbarians. Medieval groups who insisted on keeping to their old ways. They built fortresses much like our own, Quinn said in disgust. The practiced warfare and kept a healthy host. The Citadel didn’t prey on the Western folk, though it was always a concern so the normally peaceful Westerners did keep a small army, just in case.
As Mister Quinn spoke to the council, I watched him closely. His views were decidedly one of a pacifist. A curious development on a new world, in my view. One where he knew of the Morlocks and of the men from the Citadel. I was actually relieved to learn that they did in fact have some semblance of an army. I glanced at Rob and saw that he too was glad for the information.
If we did have to make a stand against the Morlocks, and if we could make an alliance with the Western folk, perhaps we could receive military aide. The Council was more interested at this point with the idea of trade. Information and goods both.
As the discussion advanced, Quinn made it clear that they lacked the resources of iron that we had found and was amazed at the amount of wheat we had begun to produce. He promised other foods that we were unaware of in trade. Such the discussion turned until it was decided that members of the community would travel to the River lands and begin to ally us with them. Of course, a detachment of Night Watch would be sent with each for security and representation in the meetings as well as to make contact with the military forces of the Westerners.
After the Council, I noticed that Mister Quinn had stayed behind in the Great Hall, so I approached him.
“Do your buildings look as such, sir?” I inquired with a mix of curiosity of their civilization and of just being polite.
“Yes and no.” He said. “Same style, I’m afraid, yet not as large. We were not builders when my forefathers arrived but poets and authors. The Masons helped us of course, but we haven’t been able to make such large buildings.” A hint of sadness touched his face for a moment.
“You do not like me, do you Captain?” He said turning to me and all emotion drained from his face.
“I don’t like what you represent, sir.” I stated in blunt honesty.
“And what is it you suppose I represent, Captain?” The reply came.
I moved to stand above him, still dressed in my black mail and dusty robes from my long patrol, Hellsbane was still strapped to my side in her sheath. I assume I made a grim presence with a bit of intimidation since he physically blanched as I moved toward him.
“I know of the history of our home world, sir. The last hundred years of Earth have been of war, much like the hundred years before. And those before that. Some of those wars have been for naught, others for survival. In both instances, there were those like you who thought that absence of violence was peace. Peace at any means, if you will. And there those like me, who wished to see days of peace but not at the expense of freedom. I do not wish to fight the Morlocks but neither do I wish to abandon all that I have labored and suffered here so that they can have dominion over this land that they don’t even inhabit.”
I stood back for a moment, surprised at the rage that had vented itself in me, before continuing with a sigh, “The question is, is it going to be a fight with the Morlocks for survival or naught. It would seem, sir that you will stand on the side of naught, while I stand on the side for survival. I hope, sir, that the war doesn’t happen and we never know who is right, between the two of us.”
As I backed away, Quinn recovered some of his maddening cockiness. Some of his composure. “It amazes me that your civilization exists with such polar opposites.” He said almost mockingly.
“Your Council, Wong, Nitram, and the lovely Miss Brat, and the rest are ones of reason and logic. Educated, I would assume. Yet, with them, are you brutes and your weapons. Amazing.” He finished with a chuckle.
It was a goad, and I knew it to be one. I had watched Mister Quinn carefully during the meeting and had noticed that his attention was drawn to Brat. Brat was not only a Council member but the head of the University. Well educated, was she, and beautiful. I decided to turn Quinn’s taunts on him.
“You find InnerBrat intriguing?” I asked.
My directness caused him to blush, a weakness of the Victorian age, and he replied, “She is amazing in a way I can not describe.”
I turned and walked for the exit but before I left entirely, I turned and exclaimed unto him, “You should see her in a corset.” And left with out seeing the red blush turn purple with embarrassment.
The Incredible Mister Quinn
We took our time riding back to the City, Lonestar’s and Edi’s lances scouring the terrain around Wilkes’s battle weary troops. I rode with Wilkens all the way back for comfort, if indeed he so desired.
It proved to be of little worry, for my Sergeant seemed to snap out of his dreary melancholy once we left sight of the battle ground. He reverted back to his soft, good humor later that same after noon.
Edi and his lance had small skirmishes from stragglers but the trip back was one of a kind of joyous celebration. We moved as one group, a large black mass of man and Taun, disturbing the quite rustle of the blue grass upon the plains.
The men and women of my company sharing their tales of glory and victory amongst the vile ravages of the Morlocks, and the mock surprise from the listeners of the heroic deeds that were conveniently done by the teller of the tale, filled the days as we journeyed back home.
Our leisurely pace found us just outside the Valley on the evening of the sixth day of our travels from the Eastern Marshes and we decided to take our rest at the Eastern Approaches for the night.
The Eastern Approach was a small tower built on the hillside of the eastern pass. It was built by the Watchmen who were assigned to stand watch on the pass. More of a shelter from the elements than a battlement, the tower was our sign that we were home.
It was always manned, usually by four members of the Watch, and no doubt that they had already seen us as we came over the horizon hours ago. In fact, it was probable that they had already dispatched a rider back to the city with the news of our return.
My hundred some odd men would not all fit into the tower but we could easily make camp on the flat ground where the tower stood and share in what ever stocks of fresh meat and vegetables the tower had and share those by the light of a fire than none on my patrol had seen in almost two weeks.
We crossed the river as it curved into the valley and you could see the moon shine off of the calm waters all the way to the distant lights of our home. My troop climbed the steep hill to the tower and I then hailed the Watchmen there.
As I had guessed, only three members of the Night Watch were in the tower, one having been dispatched hours earlier upon sighting my patrol. Those that remained gave haste to accommodate me and mine and even gave out rations of the ale they had with them.
With in an hour, my battle and travel weary troop had settled down and prepared to turn over their watch to their brethren in the tower. I partook of the hospitality of the tower and sat with the three while my men rested.
They seemed quite excited about our return but also giddy about the happenings in the City. When I questioned them they were quite cryptic, say such things as, “You’ll see when you arrive in the morning.” even more infuriating were responses such as, “My lord, it is a surprise and I wouldn’t wish to spoil it for you Captain.”
Normally such foolishness would madden me to no end but I was still grateful for the small comforts they gave my people and the unnecessary but appreciated sharing of their ale. I knew these men, Coyote’s as it were, and they were good men so I refrained from being angry with them and became content with finding out what great mystery awaited for us in the morning. I left their company, more so I didn’t loose my temper with their excited banter that they refused to share with me, and joined my Watchmen outside were I slept a peaceful night under the moons.
At dawn the next morning, my patrol being well rested, rode in perfect formation onto the City. The near completed walls of the city encircled the base of the mesa but the grand view of the Great Hall and the common houses that comprised the center of the city could be plainly seen.
We passed by various farmers in the fields upon our approach and cries of greeting were given to those who were well known. We then left the fields and crossed the river one last time before leading our mounts up the small ramp to the gate.
I hailed the gate and was glad to find that Rob himself was there to greet us. The two halves of the gate opened to admit us and we rode into our home as Rob bounded down from the top of the gate towers and moved to intercept us.
“Greetings Knife, I count one hundred heads and if I am not mistaken it is the same number you left with. Please do not tell me two weeks have passed and naught a thing was found?” He said with a broad smile.
I replied with a quick smile and slapped his back with my hand in friendship and said, “There is much to tell but me thinks that I should relate it only once so as not to forget any detail. We should go, the Council will want to hear of our exploits.”
“Aye,” He said, “And much has happened here that you should hear.”
I peered at him with a quizzical look, though having been tormented by the Watchmen at the Eastern Approaches last night, I must say that I was prepared for some taunt or tease of news.
“Well, my lord, I count as many roof tops this morning as I did upon my departure. What could have possibly have happened?” I said with a straight face.
His reply was a loud roar of laughter that continued as we marched up the hill towards the Court Yard and the Great Hall. I left my troop in the Court Yard under the capable hands of Edi, Wilkens and Lonestar, and followed Rob up and into the Great Hall. He left me in the Main Hall as he went to gather the Council.
As I stood there waiting, fresh from a good night sleep yet poor in appearance from two weeks of patrol and battle, I peered around the Hall hoping to spy out what great mystery that seemed to well up inside all in the city but was unable to spill out past their lips.
And found it I did. There are always small knots of people in the Great Hall, being that it is our seat of government. People constantly petitioning the Council and to a lesser extent the Night Watch, for their services. Today was no different. Perhaps a half a dozen people either sat or stood in the Main Hall with me as I awaited the Council to gather. Off in the corner though, I gazed upon something I have not seen in half a decade. A face I did not know.
Now, good reader, I know that in a group of roughly a thousand, really close to twelve hundred by this point because of a large boon of babies these last few years, a person may not know every single man or woman in detail. However, I have lived amongst these people for years in seclusion. I may not know them in vivid detail but I know them at least in face and in friendly passing.
But this man who sat casually in the corner was in no way familiar to me. The seemingly tall man of dark hair and light complexion caught my gaze and smiled a large toothy grin at me and immediately I knew I disliked him. It was a politician’s smile he shined upon me. One of those smiles that was only skin deep and served the purpose of hiding the emotions underneath rather than expressing kindness or friendship to those he smiled.
I walked up to him, still some what stunned by the fact that this was some one I have never met before.
He quickly stood as I approached and introduced himself, “Hello, my good man. Allow me to introduce my self. My name is Malcolm Quinn.” He said in a decidedly British accent as he bowed a quick bow.
“Who are you?” I asked.
His fake and phony smile continued as if he thought that some how it had worked on me, and I felt a hand upon my shoulder.
“He is a representative of the River Lands to the West.” Said Rob.
Behind him I could see the Council entering the room. “The what?” I asked.
Rob chuckled again and took me with his arm around me and directed me in front of the Council, “Tell your story first, then we’ll get to Mister Quinn.”
So I reported to the council, told them of the Morlock outposts concealed in the brush of the Plains. I related the story of the various skirmishes of Edi’s and Lonestar’s lances due to Wilkens effective scouring of those same posts.
And I told them of the battle of the Eastern Marches. The slaughter of the Morlocks and the heroics of Wilkens was of great interest to them and to my surprise, of Mister Quinn as well.
“You fools, you will disrupt the peace.” He exclaimed, rather rudely in my opinion, as I finished my report.
While the rest of the room looked concerned or shocked at the interruption, I was just annoyed. “What is this truce he speaks of and on that account, who is he?” I demanded.
Wong, sighed, and waved his hand calmly at Mister Quinn. “Calm your self Mister Quinn. All is not yet known. It is possible that mistakes were made but in ignorance not arrogance.
Captain Knife, this is Mister Quinn, though I’m sure by now you know his name. More importantly, he is the representative of the Western folk in the Riverlands. It seems that one of the last patrols out before you left came across them.
Far into the west, there are others who have been transported here. Wonderful news, to say the least. Mister Quinn here is part of a society that has been here for about a hundred years. And by his own tale, there are even more pockets of men from Earth scattered around the west. Some dating back hundreds of years. We are not alone, it would seem.” He announced for my benefit.
The rest of the council was more a blur of action than any thing. Discovering that our group was not unique, not a one of a kind community here on Tera was a mixture of relief and disappointment. We were not alone, yet we were not as special as some had thought. The whole thing was disquieting in light of the recent discovery of the Morlocks. This world seemed to be ever so close to becoming crowded when for five years we felt so isolated and alone.
As told by Mister Quinn, there seemed to be a new arrival every century. Every hundred years, a group of men and women would awake in the Expanse and make the trek out into the Western Forests.
Quinn’s Great Grandfather, an English Gentleman, awoke with the fellows of his literary club and had made their trek. They came across a township of Nineteenth Century American Trappers who made camp along one of the rivers in the West. They had made their home a hundred years before and discovered the French Mason’s living just north of where the Trappers had decided to settle.
All total, there were five settlements. Six if you count the Citadel. For the last five hundred years, the men and women who came to Tera, decided to make their own civilizations instead of banding with the Citadel, which represented the five hundred years of settlers before them.
The Citadel, as Mister Quinn related, were barbarians. Medieval groups who insisted on keeping to their old ways. They built fortresses much like our own, Quinn said in disgust. The practiced warfare and kept a healthy host. The Citadel didn’t prey on the Western folk, though it was always a concern so the normally peaceful Westerners did keep a small army, just in case.
As Mister Quinn spoke to the council, I watched him closely. His views were decidedly one of a pacifist. A curious development on a new world, in my view. One where he knew of the Morlocks and of the men from the Citadel. I was actually relieved to learn that they did in fact have some semblance of an army. I glanced at Rob and saw that he too was glad for the information.
If we did have to make a stand against the Morlocks, and if we could make an alliance with the Western folk, perhaps we could receive military aide. The Council was more interested at this point with the idea of trade. Information and goods both.
As the discussion advanced, Quinn made it clear that they lacked the resources of iron that we had found and was amazed at the amount of wheat we had begun to produce. He promised other foods that we were unaware of in trade. Such the discussion turned until it was decided that members of the community would travel to the River lands and begin to ally us with them. Of course, a detachment of Night Watch would be sent with each for security and representation in the meetings as well as to make contact with the military forces of the Westerners.
After the Council, I noticed that Mister Quinn had stayed behind in the Great Hall, so I approached him.
“Do your buildings look as such, sir?” I inquired with a mix of curiosity of their civilization and of just being polite.
“Yes and no.” He said. “Same style, I’m afraid, yet not as large. We were not builders when my forefathers arrived but poets and authors. The Masons helped us of course, but we haven’t been able to make such large buildings.” A hint of sadness touched his face for a moment.
“You do not like me, do you Captain?” He said turning to me and all emotion drained from his face.
“I don’t like what you represent, sir.” I stated in blunt honesty.
“And what is it you suppose I represent, Captain?” The reply came.
I moved to stand above him, still dressed in my black mail and dusty robes from my long patrol, Hellsbane was still strapped to my side in her sheath. I assume I made a grim presence with a bit of intimidation since he physically blanched as I moved toward him.
“I know of the history of our home world, sir. The last hundred years of Earth have been of war, much like the hundred years before. And those before that. Some of those wars have been for naught, others for survival. In both instances, there were those like you who thought that absence of violence was peace. Peace at any means, if you will. And there those like me, who wished to see days of peace but not at the expense of freedom. I do not wish to fight the Morlocks but neither do I wish to abandon all that I have labored and suffered here so that they can have dominion over this land that they don’t even inhabit.”
I stood back for a moment, surprised at the rage that had vented itself in me, before continuing with a sigh, “The question is, is it going to be a fight with the Morlocks for survival or naught. It would seem, sir that you will stand on the side of naught, while I stand on the side for survival. I hope, sir, that the war doesn’t happen and we never know who is right, between the two of us.”
As I backed away, Quinn recovered some of his maddening cockiness. Some of his composure. “It amazes me that your civilization exists with such polar opposites.” He said almost mockingly.
“Your Council, Wong, Nitram, and the lovely Miss Brat, and the rest are ones of reason and logic. Educated, I would assume. Yet, with them, are you brutes and your weapons. Amazing.” He finished with a chuckle.
It was a goad, and I knew it to be one. I had watched Mister Quinn carefully during the meeting and had noticed that his attention was drawn to Brat. Brat was not only a Council member but the head of the University. Well educated, was she, and beautiful. I decided to turn Quinn’s taunts on him.
“You find InnerBrat intriguing?” I asked.
My directness caused him to blush, a weakness of the Victorian age, and he replied, “She is amazing in a way I can not describe.”
I turned and walked for the exit but before I left entirely, I turned and exclaimed unto him, “You should see her in a corset.” And left with out seeing the red blush turn purple with embarrassment.
Wherever you go, there you are.
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
I think that looks right, Knife. I think I'll go back and delete the incomplete chapters to avoid any confusion.
EDIT: NO DELETING, didn't realize it was part of a whole. Anyway hope this helps.
EDIT: NO DELETING, didn't realize it was part of a whole. Anyway hope this helps.
Wherever you go, there you are.
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
Ripped Shirt Monkey - BOTMWriter's Guild Cybertron's Finest Justice League
This updated sig brought to you by JME2
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darthdavid
- Pathetic Attention Whore
- Posts: 5470
- Joined: 2003-02-17 12:04pm
- Location: Bat Country!
Thank you sir.
They say, "the tree of liberty must be watered with the blood of tyrants and patriots." I suppose it never occurred to them that they are the tyrants, not the patriots. Those weapons are not being used to fight some kind of tyranny; they are bringing them to an event where people are getting together to talk. -Mike Wong
But as far as board culture in general, I do think that young male overaggression is a contributing factor to the general atmosphere of hostility. It's not SOS and the Mess throwing hand grenades all over the forum- Red
But as far as board culture in general, I do think that young male overaggression is a contributing factor to the general atmosphere of hostility. It's not SOS and the Mess throwing hand grenades all over the forum- Red
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Rogue 9
- Scrapping TIEs since 1997
- Posts: 18669
- Joined: 2003-11-12 01:10pm
- Location: Classified
- Contact:
You're still here, aren't you? Pretty sure all those are ban victims.Agent Fisher wrote:Awesome, if this were real i hope i am not one of those that died to find out what you could eat
It's Rogue, not Rouge!
HAB | KotL | VRWC/ELC/CDA | TRotR | The Anti-Confederate | Sluggite | Gamer | Blogger | Staff Reporter | Student | Musician
HAB | KotL | VRWC/ELC/CDA | TRotR | The Anti-Confederate | Sluggite | Gamer | Blogger | Staff Reporter | Student | Musician
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speaker-to-trolls
- Jedi Master
- Posts: 1182
- Joined: 2003-11-18 05:46pm
- Location: All Hail Britannia!
Spectacular writing going on here, reminds me a lot of the Victorian style (particularly H.G Wells). Keep it coming!.
Small question: is the one thousand number just members or members and their families?.
Small question: is the one thousand number just members or members and their families?.
Post Number 1066 achieved Sun Feb 22, 2009 3:19 pm(board time, 8:19GMT)
Batman: What do these guys want anyway?
Superman: Take over the world... Or rob banks, I'm not sure.
Batman: What do these guys want anyway?
Superman: Take over the world... Or rob banks, I'm not sure.
Closer to twelve hundred now, with the wee kiddies.speaker-to-trolls wrote:Spectacular writing going on here, reminds me a lot of the Victorian style (particularly H.G Wells). Keep it coming!.
Small question: is the one thousand number just members or members and their families?.
And yeah, I know the board has more than a thousand posters, but the original intent was for roughly five hundred or so posters and who ever the hell was around em at the time, like family and shit.
They say, "the tree of liberty must be watered with the blood of tyrants and patriots." I suppose it never occurred to them that they are the tyrants, not the patriots. Those weapons are not being used to fight some kind of tyranny; they are bringing them to an event where people are getting together to talk. -Mike Wong
But as far as board culture in general, I do think that young male overaggression is a contributing factor to the general atmosphere of hostility. It's not SOS and the Mess throwing hand grenades all over the forum- Red
But as far as board culture in general, I do think that young male overaggression is a contributing factor to the general atmosphere of hostility. It's not SOS and the Mess throwing hand grenades all over the forum- Red
I like this rewrite. It works a little better than the super-ornate manner of speaking from the original version, which IIRC was the rememberings of an old man many, many years after all these events had passed.
DPDarkPrimus is my boyfriend!
SDNW4 Nation: The Refuge And, on Nova Terra, Al-Stan the Totally and Completely Honest and Legitimate Weapons Dealer and Used Starship Salesman slept on a bed made of money, with a blaster under his pillow and his sombrero pulled over his face. This is to say, he slept very well indeed.
SDNW4 Nation: The Refuge And, on Nova Terra, Al-Stan the Totally and Completely Honest and Legitimate Weapons Dealer and Used Starship Salesman slept on a bed made of money, with a blaster under his pillow and his sombrero pulled over his face. This is to say, he slept very well indeed.
Well, now Chapter 4 makes more sense, Knife. 
Pretty nice. I love your parting shot.
Pretty nice. I love your parting shot.
This is the price of war,
We rise with noble intentions,
And we risk all that is pure..." - Angela & Jeff van Dyck, Forever (Rome: Total War)
"On and on, through the years,
The war continues on..." - Angela & Jeff van Dyck, We Are All One (Medieval 2: Total War)
"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear." - Ambrose Redmoon
"You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain." - Harvey Dent, The Dark Knight
*bows*RogueIce wrote:Well, now Chapter 4 makes more sense, Knife.
Pretty nice. I love your parting shot.
They say, "the tree of liberty must be watered with the blood of tyrants and patriots." I suppose it never occurred to them that they are the tyrants, not the patriots. Those weapons are not being used to fight some kind of tyranny; they are bringing them to an event where people are getting together to talk. -Mike Wong
But as far as board culture in general, I do think that young male overaggression is a contributing factor to the general atmosphere of hostility. It's not SOS and the Mess throwing hand grenades all over the forum- Red
But as far as board culture in general, I do think that young male overaggression is a contributing factor to the general atmosphere of hostility. It's not SOS and the Mess throwing hand grenades all over the forum- Red
Knife wrote:
Closer to twelve hundred now, with the wee kiddies.
And yeah, I know the board has more than a thousand posters, but the original intent was for roughly five hundred or so posters and who ever the hell was around em at the time, like family and shit.
Does this mean we will be visited by the Bastard Children of the Bunker Hill(tm)?
"The rifle itself has no moral stature, since it has no will of its own. Naturally, it may be used by evil men for evil purposes, but there are more good men than evil, and while the latter cannot be persuaded to the path of righteousness by propaganda, they can certainly be corrected by good men with rifles."
No, its a cheesy plot device so that I still get to be with my wife and kids in a fictional worlds, and to inject enough females so that we all wouldn't spend the first five years killing each other so we could win the right to club Z or Brat over the head and go into the cave.Lonestar wrote:Knife wrote:
Closer to twelve hundred now, with the wee kiddies.
And yeah, I know the board has more than a thousand posters, but the original intent was for roughly five hundred or so posters and who ever the hell was around em at the time, like family and shit.
Does this mean we will be visited by the Bastard Children of the Bunker Hill(tm)?
They say, "the tree of liberty must be watered with the blood of tyrants and patriots." I suppose it never occurred to them that they are the tyrants, not the patriots. Those weapons are not being used to fight some kind of tyranny; they are bringing them to an event where people are getting together to talk. -Mike Wong
But as far as board culture in general, I do think that young male overaggression is a contributing factor to the general atmosphere of hostility. It's not SOS and the Mess throwing hand grenades all over the forum- Red
But as far as board culture in general, I do think that young male overaggression is a contributing factor to the general atmosphere of hostility. It's not SOS and the Mess throwing hand grenades all over the forum- Red
-
Agent Fisher
- Rabid Monkey
- Posts: 3671
- Joined: 2003-04-29 11:56pm
- Location: Sac-Town, CA, USA, Earth, Sol, Milky Way, Universe
Somehow I suspected that was the case. Still, the cast majority of sd.net will have to resort to buggery,Knife wrote:
No, its a cheesy plot device so that I still get to be with my wife and kids in a fictional worlds, and to inject enough females so that we all wouldn't spend the first five years killing each other so we could win the right to club Z or Brat over the head and go into the cave.
Thank God I'm a Sailor.
"The rifle itself has no moral stature, since it has no will of its own. Naturally, it may be used by evil men for evil purposes, but there are more good men than evil, and while the latter cannot be persuaded to the path of righteousness by propaganda, they can certainly be corrected by good men with rifles."
Just so long as I showed up with my Dress Whites, life will be good.Knife wrote:No, its a cheesy plot device so that I still get to be with my wife and kids in a fictional worlds, and to inject enough females so that we all wouldn't spend the first five years killing each other so we could win the right to club Z or Brat over the head and go into the cave.
Speaking of which, maybe I should go put a post into the Mary-Sue thread...but that would be following Lonestar's lead. Hmm, a tough choice to make...
This is the price of war,
We rise with noble intentions,
And we risk all that is pure..." - Angela & Jeff van Dyck, Forever (Rome: Total War)
"On and on, through the years,
The war continues on..." - Angela & Jeff van Dyck, We Are All One (Medieval 2: Total War)
"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear." - Ambrose Redmoon
"You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain." - Harvey Dent, The Dark Knight
Chapter 6
Cry Havoc
We raced over the fields of the Valley to our home, behind us the dark line of the Morlock army advanced, crowding into the Eastern Pass, enveloping it like an illness. My company, now only seventy four strong, moved with the fleeting quickness of our Tauns.
We followed the river as it arced out of the pass and angled towards the city, then rounded the southeastern corner of the Mesa and veered off towards the south. We crossed the river and approached the southern wall, and the gate.
The fifteen foot high, blackwood gate opened at our approach, the enemy still organizing on this side of the pass, and me and my troops galloped into the City. I took immediate note that the cities defenses were up. The Watch had the south and east walls manned, Perinquus taking the gate with Coyote the east wall. The Home Guard had the north and west wall, which considering their overall experience, was probably best. That left about one hundred Home Guard in reserve and my beleaguered company for the Watch’s reserve.
The second thing I took note of, was the knot of people that moved to intercept me and mine, as we dismounted to take our postions on the wall. Councilman Durandal, along with the Home Guard Captain Red and a few others, walked up to me and I could see rage in their eyes. Rage and a bit of fear.
“The morning? That is all you could hold?” The Councilman demanded.
I was tired. Tired from fighting and tired of watching my men die, I was in no mood for his condescending tone. “Did not my runners make it back, Councilman? Did not Tsyroc make it back with the wounded to tell the tale?”
“Five Thousand strong,” I continued. “What did you expect me to do against five thousand?” I demanded of him.
The fear that gripped his heart tightened, I know because the same fear plagued me as well, and he said, “More than the morning. Now there is nothing between them and us!” He practically yelled.
“You,” He bellowed losing control of his anger, “still had a majority of your men and you retreated. RETREATED ! And gave the enemy the pass and the Eastern Approach!”
Rage swelled up in me and Wilkens and Lonestar quickly put themselves between me, the Councilman and his companions. “I lost fifteen Watchmen out there, ten more wounded, you ingrate. If I had stayed out there any longer, I would have lost all one hundred.” I said in a cold, deadly voice.
“The Eastern Approach was never fortified to repel such an attack, Councilman. And if I recall correctly, I DID request that it should be. If I recall correctly, YOU said NO!” I yelled and had to be restrained by Wilkens.
By this point, Rob and Jegs had descended the wall to debrief me and seeing the confrontation happening, hastened to intercede.
“On top of all that, COUNCILMAN, IF I RECALL CORRECTLY, Perinquus requested the Councils and Universities help for catapults for the Eastern Approach, which you also denied!” I continued, nearly screaming, the rage and the pain from the losses of the battle earlier taking over. “It should have held more than the morning, Councilman., but do not look to me for the blame.”
I stalked off, stopping just long enough to inform Ming that he’d be in charge of the 1st lance until Edi’s return. Behind me, the Councilman and his cohorts were themselves intercepted by the Commander and Rob. What they said, I do not know or to this day care.
I climbed the tower stair, and emerging on top of the wall next to the gate. I grunted a greetings to Perinquus, who in return, grunted back. Neither of us had the time nor the temperament to engage in extended conversation.
To the east, the dark blue mob of the Morlocks had formed into ranks and was approaching the City. From my perch, I could hear the steady thrum of their stride, and the low growl of their voices. I watched in morbid fascination at the precision of what we had thought of as beasts as they came closer to their goal.
Even after we had discovered their forts in the Plains, even after we discovered some of their tools and even the ever advancing clever tactics as we skirmished with them out in the east, we, as a people, still seemed to insist that they were some sort of wild animal. I feared that we would pay for that presumption.
The great host split at the river and I watched two groups of roughly two thousand Morlocks close in on the southern and eastern walls, the river a soft line between the two.
“Knife,” Some one said behind me and I startled.
Turning around, I saw the Commander and he pulled me off to the side. “Do you expect any surprises from them?” He asked.
“Yes, Lord. They had bows at the Eastern Approach.” I said and watched his eyes widen with surprise.
I hastened to add, “Not very good one, though, but bows none the less. I’d say a range of a hundred meters, but only lethal at mayhap fifty.”
“The troops will want to stay sharp and close to their shields then.” He mused and nodded over to his Sergeant Major.
“Have your men take the southeastern corner, you can support both Perinquus and Coyote.” He ordered.
Without hesitation, I waved at Wilkens, Lonestar and Ming to bring the Watchmen up and spread them around the wall at the corner. As I set my men up, I nodded greetings to Chardok and Faram, who were manning the ballista there. Chardok, as one of Perinquus’ Sergeants, was in command of the end of that wall and its heavy weapon. The heavy crossbow would throw a bolt the size of a mans arm over three hundred meters and would be an important weapon in the hours ahead. We had one on every tower and a small pile of bolts were stacked up next to the weapon.
As I finished setting up my troops, intermingling them with the other Captain’s men, there was a terrifying roar from the enemy and then all was still. The whole valley was silent, as if some god had muted us all so he could enjoy in the beginning of the coming carnage.
Almost five thousand brutish Morlocks faced us on our wall. The monsters broke the quiet with low moans and growls before a loud squawk, like a devils horn, sounded. As one, both hosts advanced on us. One towards the southern wall, the other to the eastern one.
I tried to keep one eye on Jegs and one on the approaching enemy as I awaited the order to open fire. All the Watchmen and even some of the Home Guard had bows out and at the ready.
“READY!” Came the order and over three hundred arrows were notched.
The enemy may have developed their archery, but ours was finely honed after almost seven years on Tera.
“Looose!” Came the harsh word, drawled and extended to project the sound out.
The word was quickly lost to the snap of hundreds of bow strings and a storm of arrows shot out above the wall, both south and east, and rained down on our enemy.
For the second time that day, their growls turned into screams as Morlocks fell to our black arrows. But the charge still came. The Commander ordered four more volleys before the creatures hit the wall.
A large thump reverberated throughout the great stone structure and various Watchmen had to steady themselves before notching another arrow.
The young Watchman, Frigimagi, yelled in surprise and pointed his gauntleted hand out into the mass of Morlocks, “Look!” He shouted.
Lonestar and I took our attention off of the gnarling mess of blue skinned monsters at the base of the wall and peered out into the east. In the back of the host assaulting the wall, a knot of creatures advanced, carrying what appeared to be ladders.
I turned to Chardok, ten feet from me up on the tower, “Shoot the ladder barer!” I yelled over the noise of the battle.
Chardok nodded, and had Faram swing the large ballista around and aimed in at the Morlocks and their ladders. With a deep thrum, the ballista sang out and the long bolt eviscerating two Morlocks carrying the contraption.
My minor smile of triumph was not to last long tough, as the ladder barer fell, two more Morlocks simply picked up the ladder and continued forward. There was another deep report from the ballista and another Morlock went down but the ladders continued to advance, nearing the wall with every step.
I turned to Coyote’s group that stood next to me, and to my own people, “Draw swords!”
With a roar, the ladders hit the wall and were thrown in place. Quicker than one could imagine dozens of Morlocks climbed up the ladder and just when our swords were drawn, blue skinned barbarians came over the wall onto our blades.
At first, it was a slaughter. The group of ladders just north of the southern corner, allowed only five or six Morlocks up on the platform at a time. The twenty or so Watchmen who stood guard slashed and hacked the invaders apart. But for every five Morlocks who came up the ladders, five more were right behind them.
The enemy held down the rest of the wall by volleys of their own bows, Coyote’s other two lances were caught in the hail of arrows and the south wall had its own problems. Ming’s lance and Lonestar's on either side of the breach, along with Publius’ right in the middle of it would have to turn this attack aside.
Publius jumped into action, he and a group of his men, RogueIce and Frigimagi, and others slashed into the monsters with wicked abandon. I saw the glint of mid afternoon sun shine off of Tomahawk as Magi thrust aside the blow of a Morlock coming over the wall. Then twisting around in a full circle, the young Watchman plunged his blade deep into the stomach of the enemy. With a look of rage, the man pulled free his sword and turned to the next one, all as I and Lonestar organized our troops into a loose shield wall to repel the attack.
From behind our shields, the Watchmen of Lonestar’s lance marched in steady, practiced stride into the group of Morlocks trying to gain purchase on our wall. Lonestar directed his men in and with a brutal crash, the shields of the Watch slammed into the monsters. From behind the black shields, flashes of iron struck at the enemy and we pushed them back towards the wall, intent on throwing them back over.
Lonestar yelled, “The Watch!” in victory and it was quickly echoed by all those around us.
It was at this time, that the largest Morlock I ever set eyes upon, gained the top of the Wall. The brute was twice the size of a man and carried a war hammer instead of the usual mace or club we had come to know as the choice of weapon for a Morlock warrior.
As it gained the top, it reared its ugly head back, a mane of long, white hair, framing it. It let out a terrible bellow and then charged into the battle. It angled for Publius and his knot of Watchmen, bowling into them without even raising its dreaded weapon, and scattering the group.
They reorganized quickly and Publius slashed out with his blade, but the giant warrior deflected it with his giant hammer, and then the brute swiped Publius right off his feet with a large backhand.
Magi and Rogue came instantly to their Sergeants aide, attacking the monster from both sides, but again the large Morlock was quicker than he appeared and smashed his weapon into the mail of Magi’s chest sending the Watchman stumbling backwards off of the platform and down unto the ground below.
Lonestar directed his men unto the creature and the giant monster’s great hammer smashed into the shield wall, sending various Watchmen reeling. I circled around and joined Rogue on the creature’s flank, Hellsbane dripping with the blood of the giant’s clansmen.
I waited until the monster took another great swing at Lonestar’s lance, and then nodded to Rogue to attack. Screaming war cries, we both dived into the monster, swords slashing and cutting the thick hide.
The great monster didn’t hesitate; he turned and swung his war hammer down at me. I quickly sidestepped and the heavy weapon tore through the wooded platform and with a look of surprise, Rogue and I fell through the structure.
I hit and rolled to save as many of my tired bones from a beating, as I could. Rogue hit hard next to me, but his youth saved him from serious injury. I pulled the Watchman up as I glanced back at the platform above us.
The Morlock giant was still fighting with Lonestar, my Sergeant putting up a hell of a defense with his men’s shields repelling the monsters great swings. On the other side of the hole, Ming and the rest of Coyote’s lances were holding off the Morlocks coming through the breach but if the monster that Lonestar was fighting couldn’t be brought down, the Morlocks were sure to shift their ladders there and over run us.
I caught a glint of bronze from behind me and turned to see Stravo shouldering through to me and Rogue.
“My men are here to reinforce!” He yelled.
The big man was one of the Captains for the Home Guard. He was suppose to be defending the North Wall, but had apparently pulled off some of his group to save the rest of us.
Behind him, a half a dozen Home Guard stood in formation. Their bronze plate armor shining in the sunlight, large shields held at the ready. “What needs done, Watchman?” Stravo asked.
It took a fraction of a second to determine what to do. “Break your group into two; send one down with Ming and Kendall to reinforce the wall. The rest, follow me!” I shouted as I took off for the wall, Rogue right behind me.
As I dashed for the tower stair, I heard Stravo order half his men to the north ladders, as I commanded, and then he and Temjin, Fisher and David raced behind us. I paused momentarily at the base of the tower and grabbed a spear off the rack, as did Rogue, and then dashed up the stairs to help my Sergeant Lonestar against the giant Morlock and any who dared come over the wall.
I came out of the tower stair with my spear down and ready, to see the monster tear through Lonestar’s formation with a mighty swing of his war hammer. The formation split into two under the assault and the hammer beat into the wall, sheering off a large chunk of stone.
I could see the tops of the ladders as they did indeed start to shift towards the faultering defenses, torn asunder by the mighty Morlock before me.
Without stopping to wait for the Home Guard, Rogue and I charged the rear of the monster with our spears. Mine, buried deep into the side of the creature, Rogue, changing his target at the last moment, ran his spear right through a Morlock coming up the newly positioned ladders, sending the creature screaming down into their own.
With my spear deeply imbedded into the monster, I tried to use the spear as leverage to throw the monster back over the wall, but the blackwood was not up to the challenge and the shaft broke at the strain.
Lonestar, now behind the monster, sunk Yellow Rose deep into the shoulders of the great Morlock but the best wasn’t done yet. Shrugging off its wounds, he swung his great hammer again, knocking Lonestar and four of his lance down, then charged at Rogue who was in battle with two more Morlocks that had come up over the wall.
It was at then that Stravo and his men came out of the stair and formed into a shield wall, their bronze covered long shields overlapping into an impenetrable wall. Their spears lowered and the small mass of men with their giant of a man leading them, bore into the creature and his newly arrived companions.
There was a horrible roar as the four spears skewered the giant, his death scream rattling all on the wall. His great hammer slipped from his grip and tumbled to the Morlock army below and then the giant collapsed.
With cries of victory, the Watch quickly counter attacked the few Morlocks who had gained the wall and before long, slaughtered them to the man. Then we all surged to the wall, our bows drawn, and rained hell and arrows down upon them.
I don’t know, dear reader, if it was the death of the giant Morlock, or the final hail of arrows, but the Morlock attack faltered and then they started to fall back. On both walls the fighting slowed as the monsters pulled back and away from our weapons. The great mass of the Morlock host consolidated just south of the Gate, out of range of the dreaded ballistas on the towers. And there they waited.
I stood there, on the southern tower watching it. Breathing deep, to clear my mind of the fatigue and battle weariness. Behind me, Wilkens, Ming and Lonestar were organizing what was left of my company, and Chardok was doing the same for Coyote’s.
Content for the break the enemy had give us, I walked down the stair and came out of the tower, seeing the fallen body of Frigimagi where he had fallen mere minutes before. Tomahawk lay next to him, never far from his master’s side.
Home Guard were running all around, as were civilian runners and clean up crews. I motioned for some and explained that they should gather up the fallen Watchmen and take them to the Courtyard and with a tear, I told them to take the weapons of the fallen and give them to those that would use them at the Great Hall.
All except Tomahawk. I picked up the bastard sword and strode off to the gate. I expected him to be there and he was. The large commander of the north wall was in conversation with Rob and Red, his own commander, about his decision to move some of his forces to the east wall, and in doing so, save us all.
I walked up to Stravo, ignoring Red, and thrusted Tomahawk’s pommel towards him. “This belonged to a good man. A brave fighter and one who knew what it took to save others. It belonged to a man like you, as so, it is now yours. May you use it as he did.”
With out words, his armored hand came up and took the sword, in fact everyone near who heard the encounter was silent. A moment of quiet for all of the fallen spread over that portion of the City.
Cry Havoc
We raced over the fields of the Valley to our home, behind us the dark line of the Morlock army advanced, crowding into the Eastern Pass, enveloping it like an illness. My company, now only seventy four strong, moved with the fleeting quickness of our Tauns.
We followed the river as it arced out of the pass and angled towards the city, then rounded the southeastern corner of the Mesa and veered off towards the south. We crossed the river and approached the southern wall, and the gate.
The fifteen foot high, blackwood gate opened at our approach, the enemy still organizing on this side of the pass, and me and my troops galloped into the City. I took immediate note that the cities defenses were up. The Watch had the south and east walls manned, Perinquus taking the gate with Coyote the east wall. The Home Guard had the north and west wall, which considering their overall experience, was probably best. That left about one hundred Home Guard in reserve and my beleaguered company for the Watch’s reserve.
The second thing I took note of, was the knot of people that moved to intercept me and mine, as we dismounted to take our postions on the wall. Councilman Durandal, along with the Home Guard Captain Red and a few others, walked up to me and I could see rage in their eyes. Rage and a bit of fear.
“The morning? That is all you could hold?” The Councilman demanded.
I was tired. Tired from fighting and tired of watching my men die, I was in no mood for his condescending tone. “Did not my runners make it back, Councilman? Did not Tsyroc make it back with the wounded to tell the tale?”
“Five Thousand strong,” I continued. “What did you expect me to do against five thousand?” I demanded of him.
The fear that gripped his heart tightened, I know because the same fear plagued me as well, and he said, “More than the morning. Now there is nothing between them and us!” He practically yelled.
“You,” He bellowed losing control of his anger, “still had a majority of your men and you retreated. RETREATED ! And gave the enemy the pass and the Eastern Approach!”
Rage swelled up in me and Wilkens and Lonestar quickly put themselves between me, the Councilman and his companions. “I lost fifteen Watchmen out there, ten more wounded, you ingrate. If I had stayed out there any longer, I would have lost all one hundred.” I said in a cold, deadly voice.
“The Eastern Approach was never fortified to repel such an attack, Councilman. And if I recall correctly, I DID request that it should be. If I recall correctly, YOU said NO!” I yelled and had to be restrained by Wilkens.
By this point, Rob and Jegs had descended the wall to debrief me and seeing the confrontation happening, hastened to intercede.
“On top of all that, COUNCILMAN, IF I RECALL CORRECTLY, Perinquus requested the Councils and Universities help for catapults for the Eastern Approach, which you also denied!” I continued, nearly screaming, the rage and the pain from the losses of the battle earlier taking over. “It should have held more than the morning, Councilman., but do not look to me for the blame.”
I stalked off, stopping just long enough to inform Ming that he’d be in charge of the 1st lance until Edi’s return. Behind me, the Councilman and his cohorts were themselves intercepted by the Commander and Rob. What they said, I do not know or to this day care.
I climbed the tower stair, and emerging on top of the wall next to the gate. I grunted a greetings to Perinquus, who in return, grunted back. Neither of us had the time nor the temperament to engage in extended conversation.
To the east, the dark blue mob of the Morlocks had formed into ranks and was approaching the City. From my perch, I could hear the steady thrum of their stride, and the low growl of their voices. I watched in morbid fascination at the precision of what we had thought of as beasts as they came closer to their goal.
Even after we had discovered their forts in the Plains, even after we discovered some of their tools and even the ever advancing clever tactics as we skirmished with them out in the east, we, as a people, still seemed to insist that they were some sort of wild animal. I feared that we would pay for that presumption.
The great host split at the river and I watched two groups of roughly two thousand Morlocks close in on the southern and eastern walls, the river a soft line between the two.
“Knife,” Some one said behind me and I startled.
Turning around, I saw the Commander and he pulled me off to the side. “Do you expect any surprises from them?” He asked.
“Yes, Lord. They had bows at the Eastern Approach.” I said and watched his eyes widen with surprise.
I hastened to add, “Not very good one, though, but bows none the less. I’d say a range of a hundred meters, but only lethal at mayhap fifty.”
“The troops will want to stay sharp and close to their shields then.” He mused and nodded over to his Sergeant Major.
“Have your men take the southeastern corner, you can support both Perinquus and Coyote.” He ordered.
Without hesitation, I waved at Wilkens, Lonestar and Ming to bring the Watchmen up and spread them around the wall at the corner. As I set my men up, I nodded greetings to Chardok and Faram, who were manning the ballista there. Chardok, as one of Perinquus’ Sergeants, was in command of the end of that wall and its heavy weapon. The heavy crossbow would throw a bolt the size of a mans arm over three hundred meters and would be an important weapon in the hours ahead. We had one on every tower and a small pile of bolts were stacked up next to the weapon.
As I finished setting up my troops, intermingling them with the other Captain’s men, there was a terrifying roar from the enemy and then all was still. The whole valley was silent, as if some god had muted us all so he could enjoy in the beginning of the coming carnage.
Almost five thousand brutish Morlocks faced us on our wall. The monsters broke the quiet with low moans and growls before a loud squawk, like a devils horn, sounded. As one, both hosts advanced on us. One towards the southern wall, the other to the eastern one.
I tried to keep one eye on Jegs and one on the approaching enemy as I awaited the order to open fire. All the Watchmen and even some of the Home Guard had bows out and at the ready.
“READY!” Came the order and over three hundred arrows were notched.
The enemy may have developed their archery, but ours was finely honed after almost seven years on Tera.
“Looose!” Came the harsh word, drawled and extended to project the sound out.
The word was quickly lost to the snap of hundreds of bow strings and a storm of arrows shot out above the wall, both south and east, and rained down on our enemy.
For the second time that day, their growls turned into screams as Morlocks fell to our black arrows. But the charge still came. The Commander ordered four more volleys before the creatures hit the wall.
A large thump reverberated throughout the great stone structure and various Watchmen had to steady themselves before notching another arrow.
The young Watchman, Frigimagi, yelled in surprise and pointed his gauntleted hand out into the mass of Morlocks, “Look!” He shouted.
Lonestar and I took our attention off of the gnarling mess of blue skinned monsters at the base of the wall and peered out into the east. In the back of the host assaulting the wall, a knot of creatures advanced, carrying what appeared to be ladders.
I turned to Chardok, ten feet from me up on the tower, “Shoot the ladder barer!” I yelled over the noise of the battle.
Chardok nodded, and had Faram swing the large ballista around and aimed in at the Morlocks and their ladders. With a deep thrum, the ballista sang out and the long bolt eviscerating two Morlocks carrying the contraption.
My minor smile of triumph was not to last long tough, as the ladder barer fell, two more Morlocks simply picked up the ladder and continued forward. There was another deep report from the ballista and another Morlock went down but the ladders continued to advance, nearing the wall with every step.
I turned to Coyote’s group that stood next to me, and to my own people, “Draw swords!”
With a roar, the ladders hit the wall and were thrown in place. Quicker than one could imagine dozens of Morlocks climbed up the ladder and just when our swords were drawn, blue skinned barbarians came over the wall onto our blades.
At first, it was a slaughter. The group of ladders just north of the southern corner, allowed only five or six Morlocks up on the platform at a time. The twenty or so Watchmen who stood guard slashed and hacked the invaders apart. But for every five Morlocks who came up the ladders, five more were right behind them.
The enemy held down the rest of the wall by volleys of their own bows, Coyote’s other two lances were caught in the hail of arrows and the south wall had its own problems. Ming’s lance and Lonestar's on either side of the breach, along with Publius’ right in the middle of it would have to turn this attack aside.
Publius jumped into action, he and a group of his men, RogueIce and Frigimagi, and others slashed into the monsters with wicked abandon. I saw the glint of mid afternoon sun shine off of Tomahawk as Magi thrust aside the blow of a Morlock coming over the wall. Then twisting around in a full circle, the young Watchman plunged his blade deep into the stomach of the enemy. With a look of rage, the man pulled free his sword and turned to the next one, all as I and Lonestar organized our troops into a loose shield wall to repel the attack.
From behind our shields, the Watchmen of Lonestar’s lance marched in steady, practiced stride into the group of Morlocks trying to gain purchase on our wall. Lonestar directed his men in and with a brutal crash, the shields of the Watch slammed into the monsters. From behind the black shields, flashes of iron struck at the enemy and we pushed them back towards the wall, intent on throwing them back over.
Lonestar yelled, “The Watch!” in victory and it was quickly echoed by all those around us.
It was at this time, that the largest Morlock I ever set eyes upon, gained the top of the Wall. The brute was twice the size of a man and carried a war hammer instead of the usual mace or club we had come to know as the choice of weapon for a Morlock warrior.
As it gained the top, it reared its ugly head back, a mane of long, white hair, framing it. It let out a terrible bellow and then charged into the battle. It angled for Publius and his knot of Watchmen, bowling into them without even raising its dreaded weapon, and scattering the group.
They reorganized quickly and Publius slashed out with his blade, but the giant warrior deflected it with his giant hammer, and then the brute swiped Publius right off his feet with a large backhand.
Magi and Rogue came instantly to their Sergeants aide, attacking the monster from both sides, but again the large Morlock was quicker than he appeared and smashed his weapon into the mail of Magi’s chest sending the Watchman stumbling backwards off of the platform and down unto the ground below.
Lonestar directed his men unto the creature and the giant monster’s great hammer smashed into the shield wall, sending various Watchmen reeling. I circled around and joined Rogue on the creature’s flank, Hellsbane dripping with the blood of the giant’s clansmen.
I waited until the monster took another great swing at Lonestar’s lance, and then nodded to Rogue to attack. Screaming war cries, we both dived into the monster, swords slashing and cutting the thick hide.
The great monster didn’t hesitate; he turned and swung his war hammer down at me. I quickly sidestepped and the heavy weapon tore through the wooded platform and with a look of surprise, Rogue and I fell through the structure.
I hit and rolled to save as many of my tired bones from a beating, as I could. Rogue hit hard next to me, but his youth saved him from serious injury. I pulled the Watchman up as I glanced back at the platform above us.
The Morlock giant was still fighting with Lonestar, my Sergeant putting up a hell of a defense with his men’s shields repelling the monsters great swings. On the other side of the hole, Ming and the rest of Coyote’s lances were holding off the Morlocks coming through the breach but if the monster that Lonestar was fighting couldn’t be brought down, the Morlocks were sure to shift their ladders there and over run us.
I caught a glint of bronze from behind me and turned to see Stravo shouldering through to me and Rogue.
“My men are here to reinforce!” He yelled.
The big man was one of the Captains for the Home Guard. He was suppose to be defending the North Wall, but had apparently pulled off some of his group to save the rest of us.
Behind him, a half a dozen Home Guard stood in formation. Their bronze plate armor shining in the sunlight, large shields held at the ready. “What needs done, Watchman?” Stravo asked.
It took a fraction of a second to determine what to do. “Break your group into two; send one down with Ming and Kendall to reinforce the wall. The rest, follow me!” I shouted as I took off for the wall, Rogue right behind me.
As I dashed for the tower stair, I heard Stravo order half his men to the north ladders, as I commanded, and then he and Temjin, Fisher and David raced behind us. I paused momentarily at the base of the tower and grabbed a spear off the rack, as did Rogue, and then dashed up the stairs to help my Sergeant Lonestar against the giant Morlock and any who dared come over the wall.
I came out of the tower stair with my spear down and ready, to see the monster tear through Lonestar’s formation with a mighty swing of his war hammer. The formation split into two under the assault and the hammer beat into the wall, sheering off a large chunk of stone.
I could see the tops of the ladders as they did indeed start to shift towards the faultering defenses, torn asunder by the mighty Morlock before me.
Without stopping to wait for the Home Guard, Rogue and I charged the rear of the monster with our spears. Mine, buried deep into the side of the creature, Rogue, changing his target at the last moment, ran his spear right through a Morlock coming up the newly positioned ladders, sending the creature screaming down into their own.
With my spear deeply imbedded into the monster, I tried to use the spear as leverage to throw the monster back over the wall, but the blackwood was not up to the challenge and the shaft broke at the strain.
Lonestar, now behind the monster, sunk Yellow Rose deep into the shoulders of the great Morlock but the best wasn’t done yet. Shrugging off its wounds, he swung his great hammer again, knocking Lonestar and four of his lance down, then charged at Rogue who was in battle with two more Morlocks that had come up over the wall.
It was at then that Stravo and his men came out of the stair and formed into a shield wall, their bronze covered long shields overlapping into an impenetrable wall. Their spears lowered and the small mass of men with their giant of a man leading them, bore into the creature and his newly arrived companions.
There was a horrible roar as the four spears skewered the giant, his death scream rattling all on the wall. His great hammer slipped from his grip and tumbled to the Morlock army below and then the giant collapsed.
With cries of victory, the Watch quickly counter attacked the few Morlocks who had gained the wall and before long, slaughtered them to the man. Then we all surged to the wall, our bows drawn, and rained hell and arrows down upon them.
I don’t know, dear reader, if it was the death of the giant Morlock, or the final hail of arrows, but the Morlock attack faltered and then they started to fall back. On both walls the fighting slowed as the monsters pulled back and away from our weapons. The great mass of the Morlock host consolidated just south of the Gate, out of range of the dreaded ballistas on the towers. And there they waited.
I stood there, on the southern tower watching it. Breathing deep, to clear my mind of the fatigue and battle weariness. Behind me, Wilkens, Ming and Lonestar were organizing what was left of my company, and Chardok was doing the same for Coyote’s.
Content for the break the enemy had give us, I walked down the stair and came out of the tower, seeing the fallen body of Frigimagi where he had fallen mere minutes before. Tomahawk lay next to him, never far from his master’s side.
Home Guard were running all around, as were civilian runners and clean up crews. I motioned for some and explained that they should gather up the fallen Watchmen and take them to the Courtyard and with a tear, I told them to take the weapons of the fallen and give them to those that would use them at the Great Hall.
All except Tomahawk. I picked up the bastard sword and strode off to the gate. I expected him to be there and he was. The large commander of the north wall was in conversation with Rob and Red, his own commander, about his decision to move some of his forces to the east wall, and in doing so, save us all.
I walked up to Stravo, ignoring Red, and thrusted Tomahawk’s pommel towards him. “This belonged to a good man. A brave fighter and one who knew what it took to save others. It belonged to a man like you, as so, it is now yours. May you use it as he did.”
With out words, his armored hand came up and took the sword, in fact everyone near who heard the encounter was silent. A moment of quiet for all of the fallen spread over that portion of the City.
They say, "the tree of liberty must be watered with the blood of tyrants and patriots." I suppose it never occurred to them that they are the tyrants, not the patriots. Those weapons are not being used to fight some kind of tyranny; they are bringing them to an event where people are getting together to talk. -Mike Wong
But as far as board culture in general, I do think that young male overaggression is a contributing factor to the general atmosphere of hostility. It's not SOS and the Mess throwing hand grenades all over the forum- Red
But as far as board culture in general, I do think that young male overaggression is a contributing factor to the general atmosphere of hostility. It's not SOS and the Mess throwing hand grenades all over the forum- Red
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Agent Fisher
- Rabid Monkey
- Posts: 3671
- Joined: 2003-04-29 11:56pm
- Location: Sac-Town, CA, USA, Earth, Sol, Milky Way, Universe
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frigidmagi
- Sith Devotee
- Posts: 2962
- Joined: 2004-04-14 07:05pm
- Location: A Nice Dry Place
Nice addition.
I kicked Morlock ass.
I kicked Morlock ass.
This is the price of war,
We rise with noble intentions,
And we risk all that is pure..." - Angela & Jeff van Dyck, Forever (Rome: Total War)
"On and on, through the years,
The war continues on..." - Angela & Jeff van Dyck, We Are All One (Medieval 2: Total War)
"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear." - Ambrose Redmoon
"You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain." - Harvey Dent, The Dark Knight
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darthdavid
- Pathetic Attention Whore
- Posts: 5470
- Joined: 2003-02-17 12:04pm
- Location: Bat Country!