In My Time of Troubles Chapter 40: Entry 40, a dungeons and dragons fanfic

[Zahgorim 31]

Illuskan Encampment, South-East of South Walls of Luskan

He glanced at Karg questioningly as they came towards the building that the Ancient One, their Holy Emperor now, had established as his mini-stronghold within the line of fortified camps. His friend shrugged, chainmail clinking as their escort moved away to join the others at rest around the campfires around stoutly built stone building "Blood magic, consecrated the site, something to that effect. It might have been an Inn, but it's a temple to the One Eye now as well, one of the more magically protected places in the various encampments and he's done it the bloody way"

"Hmph, shoulda guessed I suppose" Zahgorim muttered glancing around at stout human built stone building in the 'heart' of this encampment along the southern road out of the city they were besieging. Four bodies, bloody, naked, and upside-down rested upon racks with symbols cut into flesh and blood pooling on the earth all around them. One orc from a clan from the Spine they'd fought, two humans, a male and a female, and a male elf all with throats slashed and eyes cut out; probably just as Karg had stated, along with being a statement to not fuck his power probably along with symbols to the Gods painted crimson on the outer walls.

Other than that it was quiet here, a spot of calm at the heart of the hustle and bustle of the main camp on the southern wing of the rapidly being erected siege-lines. Guards loyal to the Night-tomb tribe were scattered about, some hard to see, like shadows in the darkness on the roof, or hard to see spots in what Zahgorim guessed was the stables of the inn. Idly he wondered what it had been called, but the sign was gone and in its place the symbols of the One Eye, the Night-tombs, and the Harp and Crown of Illusk. Expecting them the guards, well armoured now in mithral and plate taken from Mirabar and the recent battle, merely stepped out of the way and let them pass into the warm and faintly smell of smoke and cooked meat emanating from within.

"Ah, the first to arrive, as expected..." the ancient one greeted from within as they entered into what was probably a common room before being taken over by the dangerous old orc who led the horde. Their Emperor stood against the large fireplace, to its side as he threw dust or something into the fire and stared into the flames without looking behind him at them. In the darker areas of the room Zahgorim could barely make out the shadowy figure of the ancient one's deadly assassin-priest of Shargaas and minion, the masked and oft silent Mirrinock "...there have been no more of these undead things from patrols?"

"No my Lord, there have not, but I'm still sending patrols in case the Luskan send mages via boat or by magic, regardless of assurances that teleportation is being blocked" Karg replied and Zahgorim nodded. It was a problem, and Karg was worried about plague and monsters so all the priests and shamans had been busy planting totems and consecrating ground even as the wooden walls were erected. The old greybeard with his crown still did turn to them, nodding his head, the simple steel-blood crown upon his brow and staff held in his free hand.

"Good, these liches are dangerous, strong, even if the humans of the city are weak. We must be watchful, and hunt down their creations without hesitation..." came the reply, before gesturing with the hand not holding the staff towards bar Zahgorim guessed, switching to the Common tongue as the flames flared again "...Servants Come! Attend Your Betters!"

Two human females came out of what he assumed was the kitchens, one carrying a platter of food and the other two large jugs of liquid. Nervously, but dressed in expensive clothing that Zahgorim had seen amongst the wealthiest of caravans, or when seeing a few of the mates of the high and mighty of Mirabar from a distance as they gawped at the terrible orcs that had saved them. Gems and jewels adorned them as if they were...not here Zahgorim thought with a mild frown of confusion as they were not slaves as best he could tell.

Instead their faces baring the markings of being protected servants of the Emperor, or more accurately as protected by the Priest of Gruumsh that he was. Awkwardly, clearly unused to the tasks, they careful placed the food and drink upon the table, the younger one giving what Sylfine had called a curtsy to himself and Karg, while the older, in her late twenties or thirties, gave a bow. He gave Karg a glance, and he merely shrugged, also not knowing the reasoning as the two humans retreated to the counter near them and stood as if waiting to be told what to do. The ancient Emperor they served turned from the fire as the flames died down, staff thudding softly on the rug thick wooden floor.

"Do not worry about them..." Holy Emperor Phargk rasped with amusement switching back to their native tongue "...they speak not a word of a proper tongue. Nor can be a spy for another clan not loyal. Oh, and to show my mercy to our...allies...of the now of course, neither of them are slaves my young apprentice, Chief Zahgorim...merely serving me as they are protected here. Just as two within the kitchen, and the youngest that cleans. Now, sit, the others shall arrive in but a moment"

"Very merciful my Lord, though I hope that they can cook, human noble ladies and merchant's wives or daughters are generally poor at such I've been told" Karg replied nodding at the seats upon which the food and drink hand been placed, and Zahgorim followed him and took a seat in the large enough chairs. The ancient orc chuckled hoarsely as he walked forward and moved to take his seat in the largest, cushioned, chair at the head of the table, resting that weird black and silver staff against the side of the armrest his had, but not theirs.

"True my apprentice, but the ones inside I can assure you, one will enjoy the fruits of conquest this time..." he rumbled back from within the folds of his hooded and crowned head "...a lesson for you too young northern, silent for all your muscle"

Zahgorim glanced towards the doorway that ended, the form of Chief Obould and his own aging shaman coming in silently past the doorframe, though Karg had apparently noted them already as the orc who'd sybdued the Uthgardt Sky Pony tribe as their new chief nodded "Aye Mighty Chief of Chiefs, there is much for me to learn from those others here"

"War is the best teacher indeed" the old one chuckled again darkly "...now, sit sit, we have much to discuss, now, the southern walls?"

Zahgorim reached out and began to fill a flagon with...blood flavour Mrog from the smell of it...as he replied to general question "Strong, thick, though weakly guarded in spots at times, but always magic users are nearby as best we can tell...it will be no easy fight to take them, but I think we can with time and blood spilled"

Obould of the Sky Pony, whose name would change should they prove victorious here as much as the number of births of whelps filled with orcish blood within the tribe would, nodded sitting at the large circular table with them. His shaman moments later as his chieftain spoke "Hmm, it will be long and hard to take the city by storm, and little doubt if not for their magics"

Karg nodded as at a gesture from the ancient emperor the two human disappeared back into the kitchens, only to reappear with more food and drink as Jernak of the Moonblades arrived through the door "Yes, and that's always a problem. Hordes have taken Luskan before only for the Liches to bring their dark arts to bear and drive them off. Is why we have made deals of course, but we must be ready on our own strength as we have seen with these undead things, and attempts at disease"

"Daily rituals will aid us in this task, both to build strength without showing it, and to ensure all know their place when the time comes for the blade to fall..." their overlord rasped drinking deeply, and then reaching for meat and bread as Jernak and the others sat "...we cannot rely on humans or elves, enemies and changeable, oath-breakers too often to rely on such for our victory. You're dealing with the villages, and their fields needing harvesting?"

Karg shrugged "Only started, we have managed to get two villages restored, working, and harvesting their crops to feed us, but there are many needing to be brought to under control and guarded. I'm confident we can get the crops in before they rot in the fields, or bad weather ruins them"

"Unless they spread plague or undead over them that is..." Zahgorim clarified and Karg nodded in agreement as he began to fill his flagon now "...but they are good places to watch for surprise attacks, keep the lands around us under control. They can't have drawn much into the city with the fields as they are, it's just a problem we cannot stop their sailing in of supplies, as I doubt they could last a long siege otherwise"

"Does not matter, we will have to storm those walls..." Chief Jernak stated as they await Kurnak of the Red Axes "...the northern walls are much weaker, but they do not allow easy access to the south of the city?"

Karg shook his head, having quested there in disguise by the will of the Gods in the past "No, the bridges are fortified, and the walls extend along the river on the south side a good ways. Taking the northern city will help, cutting off Whitsails a harbour, but with Host Tower likes in the way on the islands, and the market district and its warehouse of food, lie in the southern enclave. Where most of the population live, along with another set of docks to bring in ships"

"Then we need to sneak in scouts, fighters..." the soft but menacing voice of the Chieftain of the Red Axes stated coming through the doorway with his, useless largely, tribe shaman at his heels "...they're will be those seek to profit and trade even under a siege. It will be another ten-day, or two ten-days even, before we are ready to charge the walls, yes?"

Zahgorim shrugged "Eh, we could attack now, but dunno if we could take the walls as is. They'll throw magic and arrows anything they can, so be best gathering our strength first and then sweep in...so yes, time to do that. Hmm, we could try the goblins, their small and get in through the ratways and the little. Kobolds too maybe an idea, smarter they are"

Kurnak shook his head "Goblins, their stupid but they look like human whelps in the dark and at a distance, and not too stupid to do simple things for shiny things"

"Yes, yes, an idea we shall do..." the Emperor rasped, gesturing at the two human female in their refinements and jewels, explaining to the others as he had to them as they scurried to do his bidding. This was a private meeting as Karg called it, the big clans and 'inner circle' planning things out before ordering the numerous minor bands drawn together within their Illuskan Horde. Secret too, shielded from magic spying of both the Liches of the enemy, and their 'allies' within the army as well; he had no intention on turning on them if helped them gain a city to own and the loot within, but best not allow them control either.

"...so try for assassination then?"

Kurnak nodded to the ancient one as they discussed the tactics more "Chaos too. They will attempt as such on after all, and while the abomination wizards are untouchable their minions would not. A captain here, an apprentice there, but it will require sneaking and scouting first. It will spread fear through the ranks of the defenders"

Zahgorim nodded slowly "True, iff'n we can do it. It's like mining under the walls, or knockin'em down with catapults isn't going to slow us. And there are still those clans in the north raiding but still no sign of their large horde"

"They are a time away..." the ancient one murmured "...but yes, a trouble, as will be whoever the humans here call to aid them. Or summon to aid them"

Karg drank down the rest of his flagon, sighing as he refilled "I am preparing my acolytes as best we can to deal with the undead"

"And building these damned blasted walls everywhere, like we're bloody dwarves..." Jernak muttered with amusement "...but it'll stop any sallies by that horse of theirs. Must be regretting bringing them into the city with them"

"Food to eat, and they are already sacrificing slaves I suspect to fuel their magics..." the ancient warleader replied "...so do not see them as weak. They are a dangerous foe, but one we can destroy in the name of the Gods..."

[Krowluc 25]

Illuskan Encampment, South of Walls of Luskan

Being successful brought its associated misery from time to time Krowluc found rubbing tired eyes as he exited his tent, out into the time consuming to organise part of the Spartan camp they called their own. Sieges were both great and terrible for a cavalry company; they weren't expected to take much part in the siege itself. But it brought home the headache of ensuring his expanding fighting company was fed, stayed alert, and didn't fall into the problems that could come with 'standing still' he'd found. In part others would have handled this, but they were retired or dead now, and he was Captain; dealing with all this idiocy and politics was all his responsibility now.

"Mornin' Boss, sleep well?" Bareyaras greeted, the half-elf sitting by the cookpot over the firepit with his feet propped up on his saddle. Three more of his riders, an orc, a half-orc, and a human, sat or stood around the fire as well, eating bowls of rabbit and vegetable stew smelled like to Krowluc. Even at dawn the camp was busy, the guard change taking place as some rose for duty like him, and others moved to get some rest as Bareyaras would likely be doing shortly.

"Aye, still bleedin' tired though, it stew?"

One of his chief Lieutenants, more-so since Kyras's belly started swelling and Nimmil got all...Nimmil-ish...nodded holding up his bowl "Sure is Boss, good stuff, Egar here can cook up a storm he can"

The human in question merely shrugged as Krowluc strolled over, reaching in with a long spoon and filling a wooden bowl to hand to his Captain "Good to hear, now, Nimmil?"

Bareyaras yawned, sipping at his bottle of whatever it was, then gesturing to his right with it "Doin' her thing, elf's still alive last I saw, an' da whippin stopped, though I'd reckon she's regettin' been alive right now"

"Most do with Nims..." Krowluc agreed with a yawn, seeking, and finding, some cheese and dried fruit to go with his morning meal "...but I best go over and check, need her back workin' and make sure her little investment isn't on deaths door. Nothing important to report I assume?"

"Nah Boss, quiet nuff' on the patrol this time, no trouble either even with that icy priestess we hired. Me and Egar 'ave tried melt her cold heart is about all"

Krowluc sighed "Any success?"

"Ah, she be meltin' I think, but takes time to melt the glacier"

"Course you are, just don't screw up Bareyaras, or you Egar, you two idiots and our little thief cause me enough headaches without an angry priestess and her cohorts starting trouble. So, just..."

The half-elf grinned smugly "You know me, responsible fella"

"Is what I'm worried about" Krowluc muttered to himself largely as he walked away from them, past where the stable-hand slaves Vaya and Fensir were sleeping curled up together near the horses. He left them alone, they'd worked hard and would both be riders once they got more proficient with weapons; the girl was good with a bow, but couldn't hit anything in the saddle, and Fensir had never held a blade till Krowluc had started his training with one.

Both thankfully knew their way around horses, and had already worked hard to breaking in the new slaves to replace them. In only a few short months things had turned around fairly drastically, passing by so many new faces, as the Company doubled in number, and then had doubled again since starting the campaign. Training them all was a hassle, but one with great rewards awaiting them all should they manage to take this city; and, of course, survive the experience.

Many half-orcs like himself had appeared, orcs too, and they formed the bulk of his almost two hundred riders, but there were plenty of humans, and of course a handful of half-elves like Bareyaras. Even a few elves like this Mitara who'd made very poor choices in life apparently. The benefits of being willing to take anyone into the ranks unlike most other orcish clusters, and the protection of a warrior brotherhood that a Free Company turned 'semi-elite' mobile part of the Spartan clan's warriors. Or, at least what he was hoping to be as an elite formation that gain him lands of his under their rule.

'Well, still alive at least' he thought as he strode to where the new addition was staked out between two wooden posts, gagged so her screams didn't wake others earlier he guessed. Nimmil sitting in front of the faintly groaning elf, reading a book it seemed, as a few of his riders sat about chatting amongst themselves, or enjoying the early morning sun on the 'hilly' part at the centre of the camp. Finishing his food he handed the bowl to one of the nearby riders with orders to return it to Bareyaras and group to clean.

Angry, bloody, lash marks crisscrossed the elf's back and backs of her legs in retaliation for her escape attempt, and as something of warning for those slaves the shaman had kept. The priestess of Tymora sent over in her simple robes with medallion last night had been somewhat shaken as best could tell. It didn't matter, he had work to do, and company talk to go through with Nimmil, so it was time to bring the evil midget's reign of terror to an end for one morning at least "Morning Nims, can you get her down and a healing potion, if you're done that is?"

"Oh, hey...yeah..." the dread gnome replied blinking in confusion as she looked up from her spellbook and gestured at two nearby riders "Oi! You two, cut down tall and pointy eared and get her shackled and put to bed since I've work to be done!"

She glanced up at Krowluc as she stood, though he still towered over her to a ridiculous degree "Hey Boss, carry me while we talk shop. Little legs, big legs"

"Oh sure, whatever yer majesty..." he grumbled, reaching down with his hand and gripping her robe by collar and behind. Lifting her up to rest on his shoulder as she protested mildly; largely as she nearly dropped her spell-book while storing it in the sling-holder over her shoulder. It was like having a bloody child...a murderous, magically empowered, and egomaniacal child...getting a piggy back as she adjusted herself around his head.

"Now Bow Before My Towering Height Minions! Muwhahahaha!"

Krowluc sighed, one hand on his sword hilt and the other to his face "Oh shut up would'ya? Ye, we, look like a Da and his bleedin' whelp!"

"Never!" came the too cheerful reply before a snort of amusement "Well then Daddy, shall we get down to business?"

"Stop that, or I'll bloody throw you off and see how quick ye can cast Feather Fall!"

"Ai, Ai, boring as ever Boss..." she replied as they walked through the camp, anybody who'd say anything got a punch to the face if they said it anyway "...bad news is we're still sorting through the stuff we got from the battle, and a chunk of its not the best. Good news, we're pretty well kitted out, we've got coin pay for the next season or two with food and supplies without trouble, and we've enough casters to put someone with each patrol. Even if some...aren't the best, well, not yet"

"Shaman Karguk will assign some if we're stuck; he's already got me assigning an escort to join his sorta-daughter's guards when she blesses the farms in one of the villages, so doesn't want any more ghouls sneaking about behind the lines"

Nimmil gave a soft snort above and behind him "Well I agree with him; I don't want ghouls sneaking about anywhere near me thank you very much. Bad enough I've got hundreds of scaly lizard bastards in the same camp without maybe having undead humans and scaly monsters added to the mix"

"Now, on the subject of undead...what about our enemies in the city"

"Oh there doing something, and then the orcs do something, and mad Harpell wizards do something, and we get a whole of nothing happening. Common enough when you get two armies with mages together, well, for now...I reckon it'll be all terror and awe and sudden winds and fires once this lot start trying to storm the walls of the city"

Krowluc grumbled his agreement to that "Aye, think they, we, can do it?"

"Uh~huh, for a river ah' blood, but it can be done, and as long it's not our blood then, well...hurrah, all for the glory of our new orcish overlords I say..." she replied far too happily "...can't wait to get me greedy little fingers on the tomes contained therein those walls! Shaman Karguk and me are buddies after all, I'm sure there'll be great rewards for such loyal service"

"If they survive, yes, but point to you..." he agreed gazing out unto what looked to be another sunny, dry, and hot, late summers day and the northern city stretching out in the distance "...assuming we win the fight for the loot if and when we take the city"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure we can do that. We ride in our mighty steeds, and my deadly magic and butcher anyone that doesn't do what our bosses tell'em!"

He gave a snort of amusement "You've got it all planned out I see"

"Uh-huh, same for the everything-gone-to-manure option and we need to bravely advance to the rear somewhere far from here"

"That ain't happening unless they break the contract, or they all end up dead and they've not paid for something in advance of it" he reminded her calmly, it just wasn't done in his view; oath-breaking. Your word was your bond, and breaking such without mitigating circumstances was something that indicated you needed killing. All you had was your honour, your word, and lose that and you became just another thief pretending to be a mercenary that nobody could trust when they heard of your name.

"Of course, I ain't no coward nor a word-breaker Crow" the gnome woman replied primly, irritated he'd suggested it apparently "...just doin' me job"

"Fair, didn't mean imply it" he replied honestly and received a faint smack to the side of his head from small hands causing him to chuckle "Yeah, fair response, but yeah ye are, and we'll need ye be doing it, sieges been long dull affairs with moments ah' sudden action and possible death. With Kyras...well..."

"Suffering the consequences of being Kyras" she supplied in relation to the half-orcs pregnancy and he murmured agreement.

"...as you say, well, we need screen for others bring into our little inner circle"

There were a few potentials in the ranks, but you had to be careful promoting in the ranks and risk causing friction. Sieges were both a terrible time to do it, as well as an excellent time, depending on how things went and what they fought. Internal struggles would creep in as the siege extended, and that meant the Shaman and his Boss would stomp down upon it, so he needed to keep good order amongst his lot with so many non-orcs amongst the ranks. Ideally they'd take the city long before the first winter snows, or an army arrived of northern orcs, or humans coming down from Fireshear or the Ten Towns up in the frigid north. For now though it was time him and his little egomaniac wizard to beat some training into idiots while time permitted...

When: 14th Day of Eleasias, 1357 Dale Reckoning, Year of the Prince

Where: Spartan Camp, Illuskan Siege-lines, South of Luskan

Nice to know when in the year we are exactly; got track at Mirabar, and then promptly lost it again, during the campaign up the river and down the mountains. Into autumn rather than late summer now, though the heat still sings of hot summer's days, humid, sweaty and sweltering; harvest season, and a fight it is to get in as much of as possible. I've a bigger tent too, kinda needed with all the extra people now staying here, and its part buried into the ground here in the heart of our camp. Construction is still ongoing in the camp, we're essential fortifying around Luskan, doing what a man named Caesar once did, in a cruder manner, but we've plenty of wood nearby and always the danger of surprise attack.

The river in between the northern and southern portions of our horde is a problem, and we're currently building two 'bridges' made out of captured boats, barges, and the like – all held together by rope and heavy chains. It's not ideal, but it's better than nothing and we can at least move groups over the large flowing Mirar by this method. We've split the horde to besiege the city, though our main force is on the southern side encamped in a number of camps on the heights overlooking the city. One big camp doesn't really suit, and it is a battle in of itself to ensure these camps are defended from raiding or a major attack. Seven days and nights in we're not done yet, and one failed testing attack upon the walls already done. Work in progress basically.

Lara's returned from staying with Qilue, or returned by Qilue during our last meeting, as the formerly mind-broken drow female misses Lua and me, especially with Darth Phargk nearby. I'm of the opinion she should have been left back in the stronghold but she's recovering, and Lua, me, and Veladorn's lot are her support network so that's that. Save she's more comfortable as my servant than amongst the priestess of her own kind, which is not a sign of the best; though she is speaking normally now, almost, and follows orders with swift contentment.

Lua's using her and Tris to keep order of my unwanted harem of seven magical ladies; alternately keeping them save, keeping them prisoner, and 'training' them for their new role. Not ideal, but nothing much is at the moment and I generally don't have time right now to manage it. After all the youngest, the paladin, seems to have cracked a wee bit and started staring at me fervently, I blame Qilue Veladorm, and talking about this being her destiny or some such. The two alchemists at least, the elders of the group in their thirties, are the most practical and have passed over the embarrassment stage as best I can; unlike the elf who seems to wake each day and look mortified at herself and me for the first hour or so.

Most of my time has Shrouda Stargleam at my shoulder, acting as my advisor/hostage, and she's certainly useful for dealing with the former peasantry of Luskan just like Rose and the Auxlia is. Sadly Rose is gone for a few days, blessing crops and reaping the harvest in over in the two nearest villages we've pushed people back into with orders to get in the harvest. So got Miss Mirabar to help instead, and I think she's oddly relieved to be doing something and contributing to the fight; though I think she tunes out the thoughts of whose she's helping at times.

Honestly it is a help, as our best 'siege engineers' are humans and kobolds, with a few half-orcs, while the rest of the clan and others learn on the job so to speak. Hwachas and ballistae aren't much use at the moment, and we're still constructing catapults to hurl heavy a distance to the city walls. Mine tunnels have started though - along with trenches down towards said walls, on both our side and the northern side. There's ships out in Whitesails harbour and Dragon beach, we can see'em distantly from the hills, but little we can do about them beyond one or two of Doctor Ned's 'allies' raiding them out at sea.

We know they've hit one such trader already since they 'landed' their 'prize' offshore a little south of here and sold us the ship, the cargo, and the three injured survivors. Can't do much with it at the moment, but worth the purchase and placing a few guards on it, even if haven't put a new name on it yet though; Flagship, and only ship, of the glorious Illuskan Imperial Navy that she is. In other news; ritual work is continuing, under my guidance at the direction of his Emperor-ness.

Pretty much every day we're doing rituals, prayers, and the works to build strength. In part to resist any efforts by the Host Tower against the horde, and also he's raising power...for something, I dunno. I'm meeting him every day for planning and general training but what he plans himself is hidden, much like how I'm holding back backup plans on my side. Again, I'm learning more about blood magic and such than really I'm comfortable with, but can't say no, and I'm building up a written tome on the basics right now. It shall join my work on rune-working and ritual experimentation, but not much of a direct combat use right now. Anyway, gotta go, work to do.

When: 19th Day of Eleasias, 1357 Dale Reckoning

Where: Spartan Camp, Illuskan Siege-lines, South of Luskan

Fire fell from the sky earlier today and efforts at disease out in a nearby village we've captured. Seems someone on the Liches side wanted to get all biblical as a past life would call it;- thankfully it wasn't successful, though the fires caused a fair amount of damage on areas we couldn't shield, and before the spell was broken. Took hours to sort through the chaos and damage, and it was the Harpell's, Malchor in particular, that was most effective in repelling the magical assault.

Thankfully we've used a lot of earthen-works along with the trees cut from the forests so it wasn't a severe blow and they were isolated blazes despite several days now of sunny and dry weather. Bloody heat-wave is natural though, and it wasn't a bad idea on their part to try take advantage of it with such arcane spells. It was probably in response to the fact the catapults are up and going, and starting to hit the city walls. Hasn't done much damage yet, but it's an attrition thing in the end so one just has to wait patiently the same as with the mines, and the assault towers and siege ladders being constructed.

My tent survived intact, it's a quasi-bunker/house now with the tent merely hiding the outer coverings of wooden and earth. Quite comfortable, if a bit cramped with the numbers within, warm too, but even if the days are hot [and raining fire apparently] the nights are cool enough. We've sent goblins and kobolds to try sneak into the city, once we got them organised, and figured ways through the defences without being spotted immediately. Not sure how it went beyond that, as it'll be a time afore they are supposed to return; the idea is lay low, find a hidey-hole, and then cause chaos while getting info for us. Go forth our brave goblin and kobold adventurers!

When: 23th Day of Eleasias, 1357 Dale Reckoning

Where: Spartan Camp, Illuskan Siege-lines, South of Luskan

First big assault went in last night. Fucking disaster sums it up. I know the walls weren't broken down, but we thought the towers and ladders could force the walls. Long story made short they couldn't, and their fine big funeral pyres burning out there in no-man's land between the camps and the city walls right now.

Had to restore order, violently, after it came apart and the Luskan counter attacked and managed to cause a ton of damage to the front lines. Lost a chunk of the catapults, and we're going to have to build new ones – moving the Hwacha up into position if they try that cavalry charge/magic user crap again.

Thankfully their other little plan of raiding us from behind, landing raiders by sea, ended very badly for them and the survivors are getting sacrificed in sight of the city by order of Darth Phargk. They lost the two ships as well, managed to set them on fire by magic and frost giants throwing jars of pitch at them when they tried to raise anchor. So not a total disaster I suppose, but bad enough.

When: 26th Day of Eleasias, 1357 Dale Reckoning

Where: Spartan Camp, Illuskan Siege-lines, South of Luskan

They went full fucking Skitter on us earlier, at dawn actually. Creeping Doom I think, multiple ones, and focused on hit our rebuilt outer lines and siege engines while their small cavalry charged out behind the spell, and what I guess was a firestorm. Poisonous, stinging insects and spiders; a damned dangerous nuisance that killed dozens at the front before our own magic could be brought to bear – then the great swarm died via the power of magic death clouds.

Their invisible shadow monsters were somewhat harder to kill though when they came into the camps trying to take out the likes of me and Phargk and such. Well it was for me anyway, as I was distracted when it killed young Drem for being in the way of trying to get to me in the middle a spell. Nasty fight, flaming sword and magic really only working till me and my boys dogpiled it and banished from this plane.

Mirrinock, creepy shadow assassin-priest actual seized control of the one sent after Phargk, empowered it by the will of Shargass, and sent it back to sender. Deaths, but not amongst our leadership and the attack merely slowed us down as the archers and Hwacha did bad things to their cavalry, and Ned and friends raising the corpses harmed the rest. But it wasn't great overall.

Because we have to make MORE bloody siege engines; Again!

[Lua'kah'wyss 16]

Shaman's Tent, Illuskan Encampment, South of Southern Walls of Luskan

Lua'kah'wyss hummed happily to herself resting beside the now sleeping form of Karg, actually out of his armour a time with Lara snuggled up on the other side sleeping peacefully. It was nice to see her actually have a peaceful look upon her sleeping face, not blank or filled with fearful twitching; though it wasn't exactly ideal that only seemed to be around Lua'kah'wyss and Karg generally. Rose, Shrouda, and Tris sat cross-legged just to Lua'kah'wyss's right, playing their little war-game as Lua'kah'wyss heard the dice faintly clatter inside their cup before landing on the rug. Glancing in that direction she saw two of the new slaves had joined them; the gambling priestess and the young rivvil paladin with the cute butt.

It was unfortunate to actually be in charge of...well, slaves...but she had spoken on it with Her Holiness and there was tolerance of it due to Karg being Karg, and the future freeing of them once they had served their time. That way it was more servitude for crimes against them than true slavery in her mind; sophistry as Karg might call it when he got all fancy sounding for an orc, but that was how she and the other priestess were putting it. Such a way meant it could be done away with as orcs aged and the next generations came along and she and Her Holiness would still yet live. Slow, subtle, guidance then might be a better path, though Lua'kah'wyss knew that wasn't really her; subtly was really hard she found.

"So who is winning my lovelies?" she murmured padding over to the little group, attempting to wrap her arms around the gambeson clad shoulders of the lovely red-haired Rose, who, as ever, smacked Lua'kah'wyss and gave a glare "Awwww Boo Little Red"

"Be gone Lua, let me enjoy my coming victory"

Lua'kah'wyss glanced at the board, then the others, as she shifted over and wrapped arms around her beloved tu'rilthir after failing to spy upon Rose's cards. Stargleam, the rivvil jalil and m'elzar of Mirabar merely sighed, sitting back on her arms "That she is, winning I mean, the red haired devil that she is. Taking all our coin while you cavorted and snored"

"Standing guard too, but many skills I have!" Rose hummed back happily, as Arleigh, the enslaved priestess of Tymore gave an amused snort and scratching at her golden collar.

"Aye, blessed by the goddess this day she is"

"Strategy not just luck, can't rely on luck much"

Lua'kah'wyss rolled her eyes at that. There was the Karg in his adopted rivvil daughter. She ignored the interplay a moment as she kissed Tris's cheek, resting against her lovely tu'rillthir before speaking "Sadly the game best be coming to an end soon, exercise time. "Night is falling, and best to give our fair golden jalil fresh air an escape from the tent yes?"

"Ugh, is it that time already?" Arleigh groaned ever so softly "...just when I was having fun"

"Just when one was being defeated..." Rose corrected cheerfully "...and I grow weary myself, and will rest a little I think now my watch is over..." smiling tiredly at Lua'kah'wyss "...now that someone has raise from her slumber"

Lua'kah'wyss brought her hands up in an apologetic gesture resting on her bare knees "Mine apologies fair Rose, such weariness overcame me that mine eyes could not open till now"

"Sure you were, so energetic earlier" Shrouda Stargleam muttered beneath her breathe as Rose gave an amused snort and shook her head, gesturing at the others the game was ending. Lua'kah'wyss was the Matron of their temporary home of course, wise and in charge now that Matrons Ogrash, Ghorza, and Missy were absent, and all save Rose and Shrouda were hers to command and protect. Not that she couldn't tease the Mirabaran rivvil jalil of course; leaning in as she pushed off her Tris to whisper...

"Thou doth protest too much mine pretty"

...then slide gracefully to stand, the flustered and muttering jalil behind her and motioning at the six jalil, and one still nervous daarthiir to rise. Two from their game, the daarthiir from sitting watching her like a half, the two alchemists from their book they had been gifted along with inkwells and quills, and the last two from dozing it looked like to Lua'kah'wyss. She merely gestured at them as she walked over to the chest near the 'back' of the tent "Line up, line up mine jalil, time to get some fresh air. Tris, Rose, maybe a little help?"

"It's fine, you go to bed Tris" Rose answered patting Lua'kah'wyss's tired tu'rillthir on the shoulder and gesturing at the bed as the seven slaves began to line up and stand at attention to faster or slower degrees as usual. Lua'kah'wyss ignored them for the moment, pulling on her trousers and the tunic as Rose came over behind her and began to help put the armour at a reasonable pace. The heat of day of late had continued, but nights were cool and dry; so the breastplate covered gambeson was much more tolerable due to this.

"Thank you for getting Papa to take a long rest"

Lua'kah'wyss glanced back over her shoulder as Rose helped secure the silvery breastplate "Heehee, if he'd said no it was unto drugging him now wouldn't it?"

The red haired rivvil girl smiled 'innocently' back at Lua'kah'wyss "Oh never, Papa wouldn't like that. Tying him down to the bed till he agreed to sleep came next"

She gave an amused snort at the thought of the human girl her size attempting to wrestle the towering orc down while scolding him "I can imagine. Now, how go thine efforts with the harvest?"

"We've drawn in a goodly quantity; the Grain Mother is pleased I think by our efforts, as yields are good despite..." the rivvil girl shrugged "...things being as they are. We have had to concentrate into nearby villages, for the winter really, in case dead things try to stalk near empty villages. Or hungry wolves and other beasts descend upon villages with too few folks in the coming ten-days"

"There has not been much trouble with the farmer-folk?"

Rose shook her head faintly as she began to tug and tighten laces behind Lua'kah'wyss "Less when I and my acolytes are present than when it is just big scary, and oft angry or bored, orcs of course, but they are all terrified and worried about the coming months. Only good thing is that many are just...used to it, their previous overlords not caring much, or raiding those that got to rebellious as a few put it. There won't be much trouble as long as Papa keeps the other orcs from outright eating people"

"Then we just have to ensure he does not allow that hmmm?" Lua'kah'wyss hummed back softly "...will you be departing for anymore such places in coming days?"

"No, I spoke to Papa, we've blessed the nearby ones and I trained the other girls on the basic, so unless something troublesome I will be sending them. Harvest season is ending, and bad weather will come soon and I don't want to stray too far from the camps. Not after these big attacks and things getting..."

Lua'kah'wyss nodded, turning around as Rose completed helping "Getting darker, I know. Like something foul in the air, distant I know..."

"Yes, like just on the horizon. I thought it might be the scary old orc, Papa's leader, for a little while, but it's from the city. Even Arleigh and Bronwyn have mentioned it"

"Hmm, Karg too..." she answered as they'd talked a little on it after Her Holiness had mentioned it as well, a faint stink in the air barely 'felt' that she had mentioned to Karg immediately afterwards "...well, just have to be on guard as always. In case it starts raining fire again, or swarms of poisonous bugs suddenly appear from nowhere"

"Or shadow monsters"

"Those too..." Lua'kah'wyss agreed stretching and then turning to the seven who'd managed to stand attention and looking towards her. Reaching into the chest she pulled out some like robes and shoes, one by one throwing them each of them in line "...there we go mine jalils, just few laps around the yard, then you can wash off and get to bed. Well, and watch a practice spar of course, unless any of you wish to join Bronwyn and Joanna in said spar..."

...the moon was rising in the darkening sky as she watched the wooden swords smack off wooden shields as the night grew chill, but neither seemed too noticed as Bronwyn or Arleigh engaged in their mock battle. Tezza and Julee had retreated inside the tent to bed already, though the others seemed content to watch after getting cloaks to cover their shoulders and arms. In the distance she could hear the faint sound made by the flinging of rocks by siege engines at the walls of Luskan, and faint flash of spells.

Lua'kah'wyss had a brief look as she ran the rivvil and daarthiir on their daily exercise. She didn't know what was happening to the north over the river there were cracks starting to appear in the walls ahead of them; the blessings of elven sight to tell even a distance. Parts of the ramparts and walls were crumbling from the constant hammering of heavier rocks against them, and she watched as a wagon load of such weighty things were hauled passed them by oxen and burly orcs. Off to being blessed before being hurled forward she guessed; the magic in the stone walls of Luskan being another annoyance to overcome according to Karg.

"Who amongst them decided to ask giants to aid them in making such siege engines?"

She glanced at the daarthiir Eleanora, one of the few times the fair skinned, blonde haired, jalil had willingly approached her. Though this seemed as much from boredom and tiredness judging by the soft yawn than anything else. Lua'kah'wyss shrugged "One does not know, one amongst the orcs one must imagine, Karg hath not mentioned, or does not know either perhaps"

'The ancient one perhaps, wicked but wise that he i' Lua'kah'wyss thought resting her armour covered arms on the fence posts as cute butted paladin drove back the fair looking bard. It was hard to guess, as while the Spartan orcs handled their own things the siege engines were somewhat divided between clans since the start. Even more-so as many crews from the start had died when the rulers of Luskan had unleashed their own magics and mounted warriors to destroy them and the engines. Now they trained up different groups of orcs and rotated them in and out of the entrenchments where the catapults, large and small, had been assembled.

"Hmph...you are different that I had expect of...your kind"

Lua'kah'wyss gave an amused snort at the soft whisper "Oh, most are as bad as the tales tell, but not all are servants of the dark spider herself thank the Darksong Knight"

Silence greeted that, just the sounds of clattering wooden blades and shields nearest her, and then the 'standard curses, shouts, and noises of the camp that never truly slept. Karg emerged from his tent armed and armoured as always, greeting her with a wave...

When: 01st Day of Eleint, 1357DR

Where: Sparta Camp, Illuskan Siege-lines, South of Luskan

Clashes to the North, that Horde kind of appeared, for a time, then marched off north-westward; Moonblade and Red Axe riders clashed with their forward skirmishers for a few days before they vanished. More-so when our allies gave up the chase rather than risk getting too close a force of thousands, while getting too far from our encamped armies. We're, well our allies on the northern bank of the river are doing the watching, but who knows what's going on. Never a good thing when barbarian hordes are about in truth, but nothing to be done about it right now.

Some reports from inside Luskan; goblin and kobold reports, but still word of our enemy. There being hunted in the city by the Guard of course, but the merry little raiders have made themselves a nuisance despite losses in the way murder-hobos usually do. City they say is tense, which is to be expected, and they've come back with ears and few trinkets of the arcane that indicates they're at least truthful in slaying an apprentice or two as they've claimed. Sadly we're not going to be sneaking an army in through the 'ratways' the little feckers are using, but shifting in new groups to keep up the pressure helps. Some that is especially useful now since we're making a dent in those walls at long last; though another assault yesterday did little good.

Phargk and the others want to confront the northern horde only it comes at us directly – we've already harvested the villages on the northern bank of the Mirar and 'evacuated' the villagers to the southern ones so we're defending a few full, rather than many ghost, ones. Not the most orcish of solutions, but we don't want to abandon the siege to fight them, and the most likely is that they plan most likely to hit us once we try storm Luskan proper. As such the 'northern camps' have circumvallation facing the city and the north, with strong defences, earthworks, traps, wooden towers, the works. Draw them in, then butcher them if we have too; just don't be caught by surprise.

When: 03rd Day of Eleint, 1357DR

Where: Sparta Camp, Illuskan Siege-lines, South of Luskan

One of the mines collapsed earlier today. Self-inflicted, as we, they, were convinced it close to the walls and decided to set off a number of explosion potions and blessed black powder for the Hwacha. Sadly they weren't quite at the walls, a little short in fact, but it did some damaged to one of the towers about half-way between the South Gate and the river walls. So not a complete waste as two others proved to be due to proximity to the river, and the sea, respectively, proved to be. Just the nature of the game I guess.

Studying with Team S earlier today; Shandy, Shrouda, and Sydney as Doctor Ned went off to try sent some undead into Luskan via the sea route. Again, and, again, it failed. But it does keep the Host Tower distracted, as they do with us with their magical attempts to scry and destroy. Thankfully you scry, you die, if you expose your astral form around so many clerics and mages carelessly so it's not a major pressure as yet. Same with Phargk, getting an indepth education in the darker aspects of shaman-craft and blood-magics as ever; our Darthness continuing to summon power, staff of the gods in hand, though what for I do not know.

Tight lipped as ever;- but so am I on my contingencies as I raise power through prayer and song during the days of the siege in service to Ilneval. Even the Bells and Gods-slaves have helped me consecrate this ground as the, well dreams, in my head guide me. Well, experience mostly, but I'm a ritualist by training and I've had time on my hands encamped here. Or, more accurately, many of minions have time of their hands and I've put them to work during that time gather what power we can as time passes for the clashes with the mages. It's proven useful with the various attacks so far, so one hopes it will continue so.

When: 04th Day of Eleint, 1357DR

Where: Sparta Camp, Illuskan Siege-lines, South of Luskan

Strange smell in the air, or feeling of one perhaps – magic at work, and it's not just me sensing it.

It is hard to describe, it's very faint, just a odd, something, odd on the wind you notice. We're on our guard, but we were already, so it's just a matter of figuring out what it is. Our 'inside gobs' don't know what is could be, just that people lock themselves in at night in the city and there's no more signs of slaves on the streets anymore. Though whether that's due to random fires being started alongside night-time raiding by our chibi sized murder-hobos or more ominous things I do not know. Only time, unfortunately, will tell and we just need to keep on carrying on till then.

Regardless we are gearing up for a major assault upon the walls. There are holes forming, despite desperate efforts to repair the breeches, in two areas on the southern wall and another on the north. Another few days we all reckon to one of the mines hitting the walls and allowing us blow it. Then we'll begin the assault on all fronts as the defenders on the wall are looking more and more sparse, though they aren't having food problems and there are plenty of ships in harbour still. Or little raider friends have made them move in groups, even if our 'orc navy' is a mere captured ships right now.

Slán.

When: 06th Day of Eleint, 1357DR

Where: Sparta Camp, Illuskan Siege-lines, South of Luskan

Found out what happened to that Horde from the North. It came apart after a force of humans ran into it coming down Fireshear and a few of the Ten Towns as best we can tell. Shattered it into a thousand little bands after a nasty battle somewhere north of here in passes of the Northern Means; at least that is what a band the Red Axes claim. So a relief force - just what we wanted to hear as we're preparing for operation charge the walls, damn the losses.

Though that that wasn't the plan exactly, but now we've got dozens of little mini-hordes running about the place north of us causing a nuisance along with an army of small, but undetermined, numbers marching behind them. One can only hope that the idiots from the Spine inflicted a great many casualties before they gloriously fell apart. That would be just fine and dandy by me if they managed to do each other in and left nothing for this here orc to do except hunt down the remnants. Sadly I don't think that's going to be the case.

Oh, that odd 'smell/sensation' is still in the air, but still no idea what it is. I think Darth Phargk might have an idea, but he's not saying and neither the Harpells, the other 'allied casters', nor Shrouda seem to have any idea or inkling either. Concerning, but so is the raiding ships off to the south that a few of our cavalry patrols have hit as they lurk about villages we need.

When: 07th Day of Eleint, 1357DR

Where: Sparta Camp, Illuskan Siege-lines, South of Luskan

There are what sound suspiciously like Drow reported in Luskan, and Veladorn is not missing any of her faithful either. Somehow a bunch of the mini terrors managed to grab a human barmaid that serves near the Host Tower, so apprentices go there as Ned and Sydney confirmed, and sneak her out of the city.

So that's one source, and another is one of Doctor Ned's pirate friends whose both supply Luskan with goods, but also supplying him with information. Playing both sides as many are doing. All I can say is that's not good, and off to discuss it now. Rose assures me there's plenty of food laid in for the winter, and raids are being held off easily enough. For now, but our assault plans continue towards fruition.

When: 08th Day of Eleint, 1357DR

Where: Sparta Camp, Illuskan Siege-lines, South of Luskan

And the shoe drops.

Two armies, small armies as I expect somebody lied about our size, or are just overestimating their effectiveness against us. One is the group coming down from the north, maybe a thousand or fifteen hundred strong, and we've gotten word about an hour ago that another force is disembarking from their ships south of us. Another thousand, maybe two thousand, by all reports; raiders and warriors from the Whalebones and Ruathym as best I understand it.

We are reacting before we get snookered; assault is off for the moment, and Zah, Jernak, and Obould are going to march south with about four thousand foot, five hundred cavalry, and all three surviving magic tanks. Putting another thousand foot and two hundred cavalry in reserve with them just behind and on the flank; in case of tricks or traps, best to go with caution and overwhelming force to crush the 'relief efforts' before they can attack together or link up.

See we don't want to give up the siege, so we expect a sally could come from the city to go with these groups. The response is to move fast, knock out one before they know we know they are there. Prevent them coordinating with each other, especially with the magic in the air; like an eerie calm before the storm. It still faint, we tried to prevent them coordinating as best we can, and we're sending our remaining undead on a suicide charge against the northern force while Zah & Co. do their thing. My job is defence of the southern siege-lines and bastions. Also; set off the mine today; three holes in the southern wall now.

When: 10th Day of Eleint, 1357DR

Where: Sparta Camp, Illuskan Siege-lines, South of Luskan

I'm uneasy, victories aside, something is wrong in the air. The smell is stinking, and a sea fog has flowed in over Luskan and it's just wrong. It's hard to describe actually. Rotten meat and rotten eggs, and its felt outside the holy ground are camps are built upon. A response to the destruction of the 'relief armies' to the north and south in twenty-four hours; well drove off is s more accurate answer.

Destroyed most of the Ruathym and Whalbones 'adventurers' and the rest took their ships and fled, while the army from Fireshear we 'convinced' to piss off home thanks to Shrouda Stargleam and the power of bribes and us threatening them with superior numbers. The walls are breached, we readying for an assault, and yet we all agree something is wrong. No more word from the last bunch of goblins and kobolds gone into the city yet, so not sure what's happening within. Just that they're going to do something when we begin the assault.

I've had the Bells ring, and prayers, and they dispel this 'feeling' of dread that's creeping at the edge of the non-magically inclined. Unease maybe, it's not fear, but there's something causing unease and we've worked hard to dispel it swiftly within the camps. Thankfully that was easy enough;- sheltered behind Holy Ground as they say, blessings of the Boss orc upon us.

[Karguk 79]

Spartan Siege-lines, Illuskan Encampment, South of Southern Walls of Luskan

"Be Strong in Mind as in Body! Train Hard, Think Craftily, and always be prepared for life is but an endless battle! Merely one of different styles, peoples, and goals!" I intoned finishing the quasi-peptalk slash quasi-sermon "We must be united as a storm that rages, our numbers united as one! Fighting bravely, fighting wisely, and proving ourselves worthy of the Gods! For our faith, for the way of the sword, in the name of His Glory! Praise Ilneval! Praise the Cunning Warrior! Victory to us, his Faithful Warriors!"

"PRAISE HIM! VICTORY! VICTORY!" roared back from a thousand throats as I called forth the power once again, fiery sword raised high in the bloody sky. Belief was a power of its own, prayer a surge that drove back the strange, eerie, wrongness waft out of fog blanked city of Luskan as brought the blade down and ignited the sacred flame as the invisible fire burned outwards through the totem poles across the camp. Reinforcing the consecrated grounds that were our camps as similar rituals to the other Gods of the Pantheon were completed by the own clans and tribes.

Sparta though was sworn to Ilneval and Luthic first and foremost so ours were to my God primarily. It brought a sense of relief through the ranks, a rippling wave as I finished the service and the crowd began to disperse for another day as guard shifts began to change, or work-crews got to work. Clerics of the White Hands were particularly useful at the moment as whatever the Luskans were doing was trying to cause our food to spoil and cause sickness amongst the ranks. An aura of despair too, but it, like the corruption, was failing in the face of a combination of basic protections and arcane warding. I merely glanced at Hreshgk and the others, nodding that we were done, and then sheathing my blade as the flames vanished at a mental command from me.

That done I motioned with my hand at the Six Sisters, the Gods-slaves rising up to stand in the chill evening drizzle and pull up the hoods on their cloaks. My own helmet served to keep the light rain off my head, and I was glad of the heavy cloak around my shoulders as I stepped down off the crude platform another evening and night's work to start. The 'stink' was gone from the air, for now, but still rubbing against the barriers holding back whatever foul magic our foes were attempting to batter us with. I suspect both Phargk and the Harpells had a better idea of what it might be, but for now all I could do was focus on building up our defences and gathering power for a counter-punch if, when, needed.

I blinked as the Gods-slaves walked over, standing before, eyes intent "Hmm?"

Reality...flickered faintly...

Silver-haired nodded "Time"

Oh, the creepy thing as Pretty Elf spoke next "Runs"

Little shadow smiling with eyes not her own "Out"

Red eyes "Do"

Purple Eyes "Try"

Cold Hands "To"

Six voices in eerie harmony "Survive. Minion"

I blinked "Okay...that's not a good sign"

"Boss?"

I turned to Hreshgk right hand on sword hilt, left gesturing "Sound the alarm, Now! Someone tell Zah! I want reports on the city! All squads into formation! Everyone be on guard...the rest of you, with me!"

Nothing much seemed to be happening, but the Boss did not usually bother with such direct, and immediate, warnings such as this and that meant something was probably about to happen. So I summoned forth my power, longer term spells like the Armour of Ilneval casting that would last for much of the night ahead, and motioning for groups to form up nearby. We'd done a few of these sudden 'readiness drills' so there was no panic or unease, though I could feel a few grumbles at the edge of my awareness of those coming off the day duty and now being delayed in their rest. That didn't matter as I cast Blessed Watchfulness and my awareness expanded slightly, any lingering cobwebs driven from my mind as I focused on any potential dangers as the camp came awake.

Ah...there was...whatever that ominous feeling on the horizon was...

I glanced at the six young women "Any more information to provide?"

Confused glances "Master?"

"About your little episode there a minute ago? That dreadful power in the air"

More confused glances amongst themselves then bowed heads to me "No Master, we do not understand"

'Great, one of those episodes' I noted to myself, glancing at Hreshgk "You noticed it?"

"Yes Boss, the Gods spoke through them. Dunno what about though, was all gibberish to my ears"

'Super fantastic' I thought tiredly as horns rang out, drums boomed, and warriors fell into formation at my call for alert. Magic was in the air, and I could feel it building, pulsing, at the edge of my awareness distantly from me...off in the city. No further details forthcoming, just a brief warning and nothing else; the work it out for yourself approach to things. Though even such a warning was concerning in of itself. My hand went to the small amulet under my mithril-chainmail and gambeson padding; gripping it in one hand, concentrating, and activating the basic spell signalling our Holy Emperor and my would-be teacher of terrible blood magics.

{Master, there is something about to happen}

[Yes, something is] came back by the telepathic casting moments later from across the camp [indeed it is apprentice. It has been fun. Now, let us prove ourselves worthy of the Gods. Summon your warriors, ready them to strike at the creatures when they appear. I must prepare myself, do not disturb me further]

{Of course My Master} I replied calmly, ending the brief connection, starting to move again towards the centre of the camp and my tent. My tent and Zah's tent, and with the Auxlia and various others encamped adjacent to it such as my more experienced arcane helpers such as Doctor Ned, and perhaps the Chosen of the Goddesses of Magic and Teenage Rebellion. Clearly our ancient dark overlord had an inkling of what this was, as the darkness pulsed and buzzed like thunder rippling in distant mountains; a storm breaking over the horizon. Experience counting perhaps?

...I winced for a moment as something like painful static filled my ears before vanishing...

...but kept striding forward as I noticed a few others wince or grimace, while others paused and gave confused or wary looks towards the city. Infusing my voice with some magic I raised it, commanding as a few stood and watched "INTO FORMATION! FORM YOUR LINES!"

"Karg, what's happening?" Zah asked appearing out of his tent buckling on the last of his armour as another wave of static washed over me and the camp "And why is that smell back? I thought you did the magic thingie again?"

"Yeah, magic didn't clear it out this time. Something is happening, something big and not-good"

"Ugh, raining fire again?"

"Maybe, maybe worse, dunno for sure..." I replied honestly gesturing at the city and then at the camp "...I'm going to grab our allies and try get clearer answers. Can you get this lot ready for whatever comes?"

He slammed on his helmet, nodding and taking his Axe of Sharpness into hand "Right, let's get the feast started then I guess...I'll get things sorted, see to your magic Karg..." raising it high "SPARTA RISE! PREPARE FOR BATTLE!"

It was always interesting to watch the war-machine spring to life as the camp began to move, the cacophony of noise that overwhelmed the stench of dread nibbling at the edge of awareness. Discipline and natural orcish emotions driving such petty thoughts aside as warriors grabbed weapons and threw on armour, even those not magically inclined feeling the effects of whatever it was happening in the air.

Dread, but it was driven away as power flowed into and from the totems and small shrine about the camp, my awareness feeling the rising crescendo of chaos and evil building and bubbling. As such there was no time to study the movements for performance, or say much as Rose joined me and I simply gestured at Lua and Tris to guard the tent along with two of my acolytes. No my approach was focused upon the colourfully clad necromancer, his apprentice, dwarf, and his guards under my friend Etlin, as he came out of his tent and stared at the city distant.

As the abyss roiled and shrieked distantly I drew deeper upon my connection to my patron, sending Rose to collect my emergency bag of holding filled with scrolls, potions and tome, that I called my magic murder bag. All my senses were screaming this was the moment, as I felt power build across the rest of the Illuskan camps as other clerics called out to their own deities or summoning arcane power. I barely noticed the rain falling, the fog distant and clinging like a dark grey shroud over Luskan as it hid whatever was occurring from my eyes, and more arcane senses.

"Boss, the Drow, to your right"

I glanced in the direction Hreshgk mentioned, immediately noticing the tall figure of the Drow Chosen striding forward purposefully with two of her priestess at either side. Almost behind her as they struggled to keep with pace with the female as she moved towards me with purpose, even as I motioned with my free hand for Doctor Ned and the others to come over to me. I need opinions, answers hopefully, as the shrieking cacophony continued to build yet somehow silent as well; birds were in flight above us, fleeing away from the city and its wicked stench.

Doctor Ned was the first to reach me, tone calm and amused as always...but concerned underneath "Ah, my good shaman, exciting times as ever"

I nodded calmly as Rose dashed back, bag in hand "And do you have any idea what it might be? This unseen doom, one that feels as if it is on the horizon?"

"That, my boy, I'm somewhat unsure of what it may be..." he replied resting on his short cane-staff and looking distant "...but something bad is being summoned I am rather confident of"

{COME}

"Well...that's not good" Doctor Ned muttered as we 'heard' the unspoken words and felt a spike in power from the city, an Elvish dialect of some kind?

{COME}

Something began to burn distance, symbols burning in sickly light upon the walls of the city...no, on the empty air just in front of the city. Lines expanding, dimensions blurring as part of my consciousness noted the Gate developing and taking shape even as the Chosen of Two Goddesses came to stand just off the side of me as I took the bag from...

{YOUR BANISHMENT ENDED}

...from Rose's hand...

{WENDONAI! COME!}

...as the Gate opened, massive and tall, spewing flames, and wrongness, and corruption, as two great clawed hands gripped the 'door-frame' and something roared...

[Karguk 80]

Spartan Siege-lines, Illuskan Encampment, South of Southern Walls of Luskan

'That's a Balor' some part of my mind supplied as I watched the giant Gate burn into reality far distant at the walls of Luskan, off to my right, and a wave of Fear washed out from it as giant clawed hands thrust through the breech in reality. One was now rather grateful for mental protections as the utter terror at how screwed we were right threatened to overwhelm me, as it would have in a past time. Now though blood tattoos burned, alongside the Blessed Watchfulness enhancing senses and enforcing mental clarity; seeing the abyssal entity my hand taking out a potion bottle and, after a swift uncorking, downed its contents as screams, shouts, and magic filled air.

Fox's Cunning

"Yes a drink would be somewhat appropriate right now" Doctor Ned mouthed beside me, surprisingly calm, as he...we...watched as the horned monstrous entity attempted to drag itself through the portal between the Abyss and the Material Plane. More than attempted;- the great horned head coming through, laughing, flames and fear magic bursting out from the darker corners of the astral planes as it was called forth by those undead abominations with apparently terrible wisdom stats. I nodded idly as my consciousness expanded, drawing more and more upon the power of the divine realms into me. As did the clearly horrified but determined tall drow female doing something similar not an arm's reach from me.

I breathed in. Breathed out gazing up at the faintly drizzling clouds, the fires distant roaring...

'Well, there was a plan for that at least' some calm part of my consciousness supplied, hand reaching into bag of holding and drawing out a scroll as I spoke as My Lord's Chosen "I am going to cast a ritual circle, we have mere moments before it steps through in its full power and I need you to supply me power to control the weather for the Firestorm that is coming. Hreshgk have someone gather any acolytes nearby to join me, I need a ritual support right now"

Nedorious Illian Kline THE THIRD gave a serious look, studying me a moment as I unrolled the scroll and ignited the stored circle to change the earth and air so all beneath and around us began shine with glimmering strands of silvery runes and lines as the Six Gods-slaves shed robes to stand in their places "Some heavy rain will not halt a Demon Lord my young shaman"

"SOMEBODY THROW ROCKS AT IT!" somebody, perhaps Zah, called out as the twelve foot tall being of Evil and Chaos stepped forth from the Abyss, earth steaming and shrieking at its corrupted touch. Something, someone, was already doing as the discipline and training drove through the fear apparently as catapults and Hwacha erupted along the lines in staggered bursts at they were aimed. My mind was elsewhere, with another focus as the scroll burned to silvery dust and my hands began to move in careful gestures even as I replied calmly with another part of my mind to the questioning looks as if I'd gone mad.

"No, but it will stop it simply burning us all to a crisp..." I drank deeply of the power, crude but simple in my goal right now "...and let us see how well it fights under a rain of Holy Water! Now Aid Me! All of You!"

Preparing the Battlefield was Vital. Make it Favour You and Not Your Foe.

Wendonai, the beast before us raised its horned head and laughed, flames flaring...then blinking in surprise, or wincing perhaps, as a siege catapult's flung rock struck him in the face...

...seemed to pause a moment...

"FUCK! WE NEED BIGGER ROCKS! THROW BIGGER ROCKS AT IT!"

...then ROARED...flames erupting on his body. The Firestorm exploding outwards as it/he raised a great flaming blade in one hand, a equally fiery whip in the other, as if the centre of a bomb...

{What are you attempting apprentice?}

Our dark emperor was surprisingly calm, blazing with power through the link as I focused on drawing more and more power from the Heavens {Calling down a holy storm my master}

{Good. Delay the Beast, distract it} and then he was gone again, but that didn't matter as the others around join me; the might and grace blowing off of Qilue Veladorn as the Chosen of Two Goddesses reared up and blazed like the beacon that I too stood as. Within her tent I felt Shandril fall to her knees, joining power even distant, as acolytes came forward to surround the circle; Veladorn's two nearby bodyguards and priestesses almost drawn against the will into the Link.

Create. Water. Bless. Holy. Divine. Power. Storm. Howl. We. Are. The. Raging. Storm!!!!

Arcane power called forth the winds and the waters in the autumn skies, sheer power tearing and expanding soft rains and placid clouds to dark and angry monsters as the winds rose. Buffeting back the firestorm as it collided with totems and shrines along the consecrated ground that we now stood upon. Shrieked and howled with the rage and fury of the Divine as great monster towering distant, striding forward in rage, raised its arms again and the barriers between realms was torn at to summon its lesser kind. From the ground surrounding it, from the burning Gate behind it, they answered the call of Wendonai...

But I did not care at this moment, not now as I shattered storage and burned scrolls to fuel the impromptu ritual with stores of accumulated rituals past. Reaching out as my Battle Meditation formed, Linking, Guiding, Strengthening, Drawing Strength From, as the barriers to Higher Planes extended before me...us...and the Doors opened as the Priests and Chosen of their Gods called upon their power. I could feel Phargk now, a roaring inferno of power, but drawing ever more as was I and every other cleric of note. Noting it, making use of it, as I drew down the twisting tornado of divine energies and suffused the very sky, clouds, and water, and winds, with that spark of blessing. That Holy Light and Word.

Poured it in, the winds shrieking around us in a deafening gale, unsecured tents taking flight as the dam burst and blessed rain began to fall over holy ground. Others joined their powers to it, the blazing beacon that could only be the Senior Harpell, the faint smell of flowers and grain that was Rose, even the faint shadows of health and disease of servants of the White Hands. The Cold Wind of Winter dancing for joy at destruction, to the arcane candles of those dozens around the Great Circle of Two Chosen calling down the power of the Heavens to Battle. Linking together the souls of thousands as fear faded, rage and courage growing, as the Demon Lord focused upon its target; the Beacon of Power standing beside me. Inhuman screams and battle-cries filled the darkening sky as orcish warchants roared with winds...

[Fear Not, the Gods Are With You. Drive Back The Abomination! Purge the Corrupt! Show No Mercy to these Unclean Things! ORDER WILL PREVAIL!]

...as horrors from the Abyss found their skin and armour burn and sizzle as the winds rose and rains descended. The very earth itself rejected them, the Holy Ground almost shaking with rage beneath our feet as the totems and shrines focused and channelled the Power, the Fury...

[The Shrouded Lord 03]

At the Heart of the Storm, on Hallowed Ground

[Fear Not, the Gods Are With You. Drive Back The Abomination! Purge the Corrupt! Show No Mercy to these Unclean Things! ORDER WILL PREVAIL!] our voice carried through the ranks. Unspoken yet Heard by all the Faithful, and those who sided against the forces of the Abyss this night. Unease from The Necromancer and the Chosen of Two Goddesses as we opened golden eyes and took in the coming carnage as one of Beasts of the Abyss stood as a pillar of twisted power out there in the swirling winds and rains that descended upon the battlefield.

"Possession is a dangerous risk Shaman Karguk, even of the Divine nature"

We did not glance at the being of power speaking softly, yet heard clearly over the howling storm, merely nodding "Perhaps, but we are but a loyal servant of Ilneval in these dark times, and even now our combined strength is lesser than our foe. The corrupter of your people, an Elder Balor"

"Yes, this storm will merely weaken it, and harm its servants. Banishment is the only option, but we must weaken it further"

"Perhaps, perhaps not, but weaken it we must" we agreed, in a certain way, as the Dying Blood Emperor was a power of his own, and bringing his own machinations to bear soon we expected. If the Servant of Gruumsh did as we suspected it would offer a chance, but significant dangers in of itself; no matter, our senses expanded, the flaming blade coming forth from its sheath. War was here. Our Lord called us to Battle. Now was the time to drive back these horrors, to salvage what could be salvaged...

"SOLDIERS OF ILLUSK! RALLY TO YOUR BANNERS! ORDER WILL PREVAIL!"

[Interlude 22]

[Bella don Delroy Harpell, Mage of Longsaddle]

When things went wrong in her family, they truly went, terribly, spectacularly, and scarily wrong Bella found as she clutched her staff. Coming out of her tent just in time to watch as a-pits-be-damned Balor towered in front of the distant city...just before the storm descended in a hail of cold rain and shrieking winds. Barely thinking, or perhaps just as a way to deal with the aura of dread pouring forth from the creature from the depths of the Abyss, one hand clutched her staff, knuckles white, as the other pulled up her robe's hood to shelter her eyes from the sudden downpour. Magic was pouring into the air, damned and divine, as she sought out Harkle, and even better Malchor to offer some actually useful advice.

'First things first Bella' she reminded herself firmly, chanting softly against the shrieking winds to bring form magical armour to protect herself as best she could as the world around her went insane. Her own guard, young Ywlla, was watching all the running and arming orcs and humans around them warily, but Bella ignored her as the spell ended and she felt the touch of the power of the orc shaman calming the aura of the camp. Welcomed it even somewhat, as it focused her mind, strengthened her courage and will, feeling the things of the pit emerge in numbers hidden from her mortal senses. But standing firm and calling her own power to her as she strode towards her family, the elder emerging in a swirl of anger and power that brightened the darkening and shrieking night around her.

"Malchor! Harkle! They have called..." she tried to call out as her voice was drowned out by the roaring winds, shouts, and the song at edge of mind that pressed and grew. Malchor merely shook his hand at her as pots and pans were swept skyward and tents poorly secured came apart, a flare of power and his lips moving. Distantly she could hear the roaring rage and rumble of the terrible Balor as its power flared, raged, as the flames became visible as a dark blur of black and orange against the howling grey and white that was descending from the skies. Something like thunder rumbled, the world going mad as yet more power descended, waves pulsing out around and through her as orcs charged and battle was met...she knew, somehow, beyond her sight. Just felt as blood was spilled and righteous anger rose up within her.

{Bella, Harkle, good, stay with me} Malchor spoke calmly, coldly, and with hard focus within her mind {those fools have summoned such a thing as Wendonai. Madness. Come, we must add our strength to the battle and drive these things back into their own plane swiftly. Follow me, we must locate the Shaman, the Necromancer, and the Priestess swiftly}

{But Malchor, Narcella is...}

{Will be with her Priestess Harkle, we must contain this before those fools in the city yonder doom this region to the Abyss} Malchor thought back to them, hands moving even as he moved, gesturing into the cloud and wind darkened battlefield and sent a burst of arcane power flying into it to strike down something Bella could not yet see {and ensure whatever it is the orcs and their allies are now doing is enough to drive them back, and is also not a danger in of itself to all}

A glance towards the city as they moved, handful of guards around them, saw flashes of clashing steel and demonic taint through the rain. Knew creatures were assaulting there, being met by a charge of orcs as more ran passed her and her group, even that the terrible Balor half-hidden in the lashing rain and howling winds was wielding its terrible flaming whip to destroy anything near it. Such as the siege equipment and earthwork defences as the monstrous thing strode towards the lines...

[Verall, Apprentice of the Host Tower of the Arcane]

He shivered against the sudden cold and damp as he moved through the streets of the city as the storm howled down the near empty streets around him. Not that Verall was alone, moving alone wasn't safe, especially with things as they were now, and his companions watched each other, and the streets around them as they hurried towards a possible escape from the madness. Ancel and Isolda were his friends, a guardsman and fellow apprentice respectively, and Jaeden and Chere were mercenaries, a married couple at that, that Ancel knew enough to get them an in with one of the ships in harbour.

Not that attempting to leave the city in the middle of storm caused by the savage orcs and their Harper allies besieging was a great choice but...his Masters in the Host Tower had clearly lost their minds, and win or lose bad things were clearly on the horizon. There was damned Balor and a summoned army of demons gating in just outside the city walls, and if they won then they likely wouldn't just stop at eating the orcs and their souls. So NOT BEING HERE was a very good idea Vernall though; because if the orcs and Harpers won...that was almost as bad, as that meant they'd beaten a damned Balor and its demon army to do so. A distant roar shook the shrieking air.

"We need to hurry!" he shouted out to the others holding tightly to the satchel over his shoulder filled with his coins and essential things "...that's not a good sound!"

Rough looking fellows ahead, clearly in the process of robbing a house in the midst of the storm, waved weapons at them as Isolda nodded her robed head in agreement to his words, motioning in the direction of the rain drenched danger. Ancel and the two mercenaries drew their weapons as he and Isolda motioned with his staff, and rummaged through her component pouch. No intelligible words were spoken, just visible threats and likely gibberish sounding threats as the winds and rain continued to howl and wail around them as Vernall and the others edged around the thieves robbing the town house. Driven mad or to dangerous greed by the demonic power filing the air Vernall wondered...

"Ships are still intact looks like!"

Vernall nodded as Isolda's shout into his ear as they passed the scum, and then some screaming woman, and the ships struggling in Whitesails harbour came into view down the cliff paths. They were sheltered somewhat from the storm roaring in around them all as the wind lifted unsecured items into the air, and he guessed the ships wizard, or perhaps clerics, were fighting the sudden squalls. They was their ticket out of Luskan; he and Isolda were apprentices, had skills...and if worse came to worse had sleep spells at the ready to help kill enough crew to persuade the rest to get them out of the city...

'If we can get past that lot' he thought darkly as he gripped Ansel's arm as they descended the path down the cliffs to the docks, and they saw clusters of people down by the docks. The blood sacrifices of the slaves within the city had unnerved everyone, and it seemed others of his fellows were making similar decisions to his group in that this was the time get out of the city. Hundreds were clustered down in the harbour now that the guards had been drawn away to the walls for...whatever it was the Masters of the Tower had planned. Vernall could care less, as he knew enough about the...strange things...people muttered about in the taverns. Or guessed based on his studies at least, and he liked having his soul thank you very much...

[Gnazz of Grug Tribe, of Goblin Town, Scout Auxlia of Illusk]

"In! In! Stay hiddens yes!" he hissed at his band of warriors as the last of them, Staq as always of course, came inside soaked to the skin as the big place they hid in shook and rumbled around them. It was big, and messy, and dark, and now Grug Tribe Stronghold by order of Might Gnazz. Even if it was in Evil Humie territory...but that might change once the big crazy scary orcs took the Big City like they said they would. Gnazz hoped they did, then this Great Stronghold be Gnazz's to rule after he and his warriors had taken it, and hidden from the humans outside.

Of course the Bad Demon Things the humans summoned might make that a problem, but that was Not Gnazz's problem right now either. If the crazy orcs won, then Hurray! If they didn't...then Gnazz and his brave warriors had many shinies and would return as the greatest of goblin heroes! Also, if lesser, hurrays!

'Hmm...getting slaves out of city be hard though with humies and bad demon things around...' he though tugging off his now sodden tunic, glad of the fire burning in the hearth as he gazed upon three of their trophies as the bound trio huddled in the corner '...is thinking sons laters yes. Big Battle happens betweens Bigs Folks, so smarts goblins hides in burrow till knows who winnings'

"Is demons! Whats doings!" Staq whined, flailing his arms and splashing water droplets everywhere "Wezza dooms yes!"

Gnazz smacked him on the back of the head "Nots be dum-dums! Iz nots dooms! Is magic wizard storm, Good storm? Yes rights Traats?"

His shaman bobbed his head excitedly, the Halfling features of his mother shining through as the shaman gesticulated wildly "Yes! Is Holy Water, Good Storm Magic! Fight Bad Thing Demons! The Gods helping us they are!"

Gnazz nodded, gesturing at Traats, shaman and fellow scout "Sees? Sees? Shaman sayings! Shaman knowings! Alls be goodz, we hidings here ands sees whats happenings! Good huntins so fars, so best-best happens! Thinkings good things then good things happens! Yes!"

And it had been good so far, they'd snuck in and out of the big city with the sneaky and big-headed kobolds, and taken a number of ears off armed big meanie humans and magic humans. Then back again and taking their, hopefully, future stronghold in this part of the city with the hungrier and dirtier, big folk humans; like their big mean human and her two whelps. Ugly like the others, but skinny and bony...but telling Gnazz alls wants for scraps and waving of knives at them; they were Grug Tribe's now like this smoke filled stronghold...that was still shaking somewhat as the storm roared outside. Gnazz pray to the Gods their big crazy-scary orcs won and the good times kept rolling...

[Phargk of the Night Tombs, The Horror of the Caverns, Holy Emperor of Illusk]

He coughed up flecks of blood into his hand, laughing darkly as the skies raged and the demons fought his warriors amidst the winds and rain. Ah such an end, such a stage he'd found, he thought gripping the Staff firmly in hand and drawing the power to him as his acolytes slit the throats of the sacrifices. He breathed in, praying, as the power of the One Eye, Greatest Amongst the Gods, filled him, pleased at this offering...pleased at his choice of bloody path.

As he had suspected his Apprentice had proven himself a Chosen of Ilneval. Of course he was, dangerous and cunning that one, but he'd done what the Cunning Warrior's lot were supposed to do; get the Horde organised and get it moving in the direction that Gruumsh and his servants demanded it go. Allowed the youngster to bring in minions and allies of a time that had gotten this Horde farther than most Phargk had aided in the past...the culmination of a life's work now at hand. He coughed again...so much power in the air, in his hands, as he drew it in and raised arms into the sky to implore the Greatest of Gods. The Time Was At Hand.

Even if he did not answer the accumulated power would be enough that he would not be forgotten, that the One Eye would be acknowledged to the Horde as the true lord. Then the strongest would battle for control of whatever future would be wrought from the blood spilled this day, in the days to come. Phargk breathed in, drinking deeply of the magic and life in the air, drinking deeply of the power as he felt young again...feeling the blessing of his Lord respond from the heavens above. The time had come...

[Nedorious Illian Kline 14]

Battlefield, Illuskan Encampment, City of Luskan

He couldn't see much Nedorious found as lightning flashed once again ahead of him, amidst the fury of the storm he'd lend his strength towards helping raise. The desperately needed storm really as the flames and rage and power out in that roiling mess of wind and rain would be air-borne otherwise, or potentially teleporting if not for their efforts to anchor, and limit, its dark powers on the material plane. Not that such efforts had stopped the damned being summon a veritable army of its lesser kin, but it had been limited in its ways somewhat, and they at least had a chance to fight it.

It...really should have occurred to him that the damnable fools in the Tower would dig deep, but this was certainly a nasty surprise indeed. Almost as much as young Karguk;- who'd gone and allowed himself to go and get possessed by some Orc Divine Spirit in response to the damned Balor stomping around out there destroying the horde most likely. Hundreds, thousands, of lesser abominations were out there, the feel of battle in the air as the clerics and shamans magic bound wills together, strengthening them and shielding them from the dark aura of the Balor.

Now young Not-Karguk was striding out of the ritual circle, eyes glowing gold, his personal guard falling in around him with flaming swords held in hand. The Drow Priestess was merely boosting the storm now, there was little need to guide it...or add more power to it in truth. Divine magic sufficed the very air and earth around them, and the rain would burn the creatures of the Abyss and even the odds upon the battlefield as at the edge of his vision ranks off orcs formed up. Pikes and halberds were bracing, his dear Crue holding her axe at the ready as he noticed a ring of steel had formed around the ritual circle of dozens of acolytes and young casters.

'Hmmm, no use in summon anything of the negative energy plane' he mused to himself, ignoring the rain lashing his face in physical terms but considering its impact. Undead and creatures of the Abyss would suffer in such conditions, thankfully, so summoning some of his servants right now would be self-defeating he found as he reached into his bag of holding. Boosting the abilities of his allies, albeit temporarily, then was the best option for now; even if a Giant Dwarf was as chuckle inducing as usual despite the circumstances.

"Nedorious"

He smiled back at unhappy face of Malchor Harpell as the senior Harpell mage, with his own entourage in tow, despite the cold rain on his face and the nature other fellow. Always try keep it cheerful, even if magic was needed to keep his voice heard over the shrieking winds and rains "Malchor Harpell! As I live and breathe! Now what brings fine fellows such as yourselves to our little ritual in such dreadful weather?"

Stern faced glare, though it looked amusing when contrasted against the water soaked face and hair of the glaring wizard "We do not have time for this Necromancer"

Nedorious rested upon his staff a moment, bracing against a sudden gust of wind, as he saw young Harkle move past him and hug one of the drow priestess, as Sydney glared at them both "Oh, we always have time for politeness, especially in such trying times Sir Adventurer. Though if you are seeking our fine Shaman, he has just rushed off toward the battle-lines to stabilise the front-lines I imagine, he is a mite...possessed...at the moment one finds"

The other wizard took a breath, frowning, and gazing off into the swirling rain and mists "How does such possession fare?"

"Oh, loyal servant of his God, desperate times..." Nedorious replied, glancing back towards where the silver armoured drow priestess was pouring magic into the storm as the battle rage closer towards them as best he could feel with his other senses "...similar to others at the moment. Matters are growing rather troublesome are they not Crue dear?"

"WHAT?"

He nodded at the armoured figure of his less-than-usually height challenged employee as she stood warily near him alongside Etlin and the two less useful lady guards in his service "See? It seems the Liches have gotten aid, and gone somewhat mad as well"

The older Harpell Mage gave a curt nod "We must banish the Beast back to its realm before the entire region is overrun"

"Then we stand here, or aid our orcish shaman running about with a spirit in his body..." he replied firmly gesturing in the direction young Karguk had gone and more warriors were rushing towards "...as I have done what I can for the here and now to aid in bringing us a fresh and cheerful change in the weather"

'As I am not entering the fray with just my own abilities and those of fair Sydney here at my back' he did not say, but waited in momentary silence as the other Mage, with his fellow mages awaiting his decision, considered his options. Not long to decide of course, the man was decisive enough, merely nodding to the front and voicing a few words of his choice and that made things easier for Nedorious now the task here had been completed. The storm would continued to rage, build even, without guidance or aid, and now was an ideal time to try and drive back the Balor in cooperation with these fine folks.

Mage Armour was useful as always, though the protective screen of his guards, the Harpell's guards, and one or two of the orc warriors assigned to guard them were the immediate link of arrow and hellfire stoppers as they moved forward. Not the most pleasant of fights as the rain hammered down, and thunder roared as lightning stuck bright flashes almost constantly amidst the barely visible battle all around them. Still...following the guiding, albeit invisible, hand of their orcish ally in this fight made some degree of awareness of who was where, and how they fared. Useful as the orcs were driven back into their siege-lines; and it was a mere few hundred metres before he was lowering his Staff of Lightning to send a blast of arcanely generated energy into the face of a winged horror charging towards them.

The fight...was massive and murderous, as the simple presence of the Balor cleared the holy winds and rain away from it for brief moments. Winds shifting, fighting between orcs and demons visible for a moment, before lashing back with renewed vigour to once again hide the fighting; hide, but also burn the skins and hides of weaker abyssal creatures at vain attempts at undead being raised from the city. The Harpell's sent blasts of power into the creatures distant and almost hidden ranks as he watched the giant whip wielding horror besieged by lightning strikes and frost giants, or enlarged orcs, throwing javelins or rocks at it. Enough to slow, but not truly stop it from clearly cutting a path through the ranks to their right flank towards where the rituals, and the drow priestesses, were entrenched.

'Ah, and there goes our mad shaman and fiery sword fellows' he noted flinging lightning into the abyssal creatures as he watched the Spartan forces form into solid blocks...or more-so felt it happen, as the force of magic and will that shone as a beacon drove them forward to drive back the demonic ranks. It was organised chaos, ranks forming and drive forward filled with holy wrath and orcish bloodlust as he and the Harpells worked together to slow and contain the Beast distant. Turning earth to mud, then hardening it as the twelve foot tall demon sank...

Only to drag itself to stand again as Nedorious and Harkle Harpell worked together to send chain lightning into the nearest cluster of demons and undead. Poorly made undead servants at, quality control clearly slipping since he'd left the city, as they fell apart at the merest touch of lightning and magic missile it seemed to his eyes. Crue smashed one of the flying demons that, half-falling apart as it fizzed and burned under the rain of holy water, managed to break through the somewhat ragged lines into the general melee around Nedorious's group.

It had been a time since he done this, and it was strange not being aboard a ship doing so, but he fell into a familiar rhythm as he and the other wizards around him rained death and destruction upon the demons and undead as they slowed the Balor. Power was building in the camps behind them, but he put that aside as he lend his power to the formation led by fire-sword wielding orcs driving back the lesser evils. It was somewhat unnerving, but possessions were like that, and best done in such a critical situation such as this; not when his balancing the scales on the Host Tower was so close...

GATHER IN HIS NAME!

'Oh dear...' he thought as the blast wave of power ran through him and the storm seemed to grow ever fiercer around them...

CONQUER IN HIS NAME!

Nedorious winced slightly as someone very crudely ripped open even more power to the divine realms...

SEIZE WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY YOURS!

...and something came through as the pillar of magic descended from the raging storm of the skies...

[The Shrouded Lord 04]

On the Battlefield, Facing Unholy Foes

Our blade clove through demonic flesh as the lightning hammered down from the skies near us. Aiding us in truth; though guiding it to anything beyond not striking anything other than creatures of the demonic or undead was beyond our current level of power or knowledge. It weakened the Balor, Wendonai, Servant of Lloth...or once was, and sought to be again by these actions...but defeating the creature relied on the abilities and magic of others sadly. Our role then must be to rally the spears, drive them forward; defeat the servants the Balor had brought forth unto the Material Plane and then march into the city to crush all resistance.

The blade in our hands was alive with wrath, burning white hot in rage at the abominations of the Pit as the rain poured down from the heavens around us in blessed torrents. We felt the battle, guiding it, marshalling and strengthening the belief and will of the horde as His General, His Chosen. Holy Ground, Holy Rain. Holy Storm, and it merely held the great demon lord at bay as its summons grew weaker and were destroyed as the Illuskan forces rallied. Our role was to shape the battlefield, to focus the spears - and that we had down as we strode forward over sodden, but blessed, earth with the force of thousands of booted feet; order and rage to force the darkness back.

We though were calm through it all, the eye of the storm, as crows were our eyes in the winds, and others senses guided us up and down the line to where our presence was most needed. The northern bank did less well as some humans from the walled city sallied, perhaps to escape, as the chaos of war descended upon the battlefield and more dangerous foes drew our attention. A decent bet on their part, or perhaps just panic as the demons fought upon us on the southern bank and best to flee in the opposite direction. No matter, our focus was on the true threat as we summon the waters in the rain to our free hand, expanding, and then throwing the geyser forward into the faces of demon horrors as it burned them worse than any flame.

Simple spells and cantrips were the goal now as Hreshgk charged forward with dozen others to cut apart the now confused and injured creatures as we felt Zah and his personal guard tear into those hidden in the storm winds alongside Jernak of the Moonblades. Power was blazing in beacons all around us; the Chosen of Two Goddesses, the Mages entering the fray and seeking to weaken Balor and perhaps banish it back to its sphere of existence. Our gaze turned now as the pillar of power descended from the realms of Nishrek as the ritual of the Blood Emperor completed in our estimation.

We could feel the power of Gruumsh erupt amidst the storm, strengthening as well in so many ways; destruction and power and lust filling the storm as the air vibrated with power. Our spirits acknowledged the ascendency of the arrival, or the joining or Priest and Power the Deity in what was something akin to an empowered Aspect, or near Avatar in truth. The Blood Soaked Ancient had drawn down his Patron with the offering of such a battle as this, and the great power amassed over rituals and within the Staff of Power unleashed to gain approval. Challenging such would be foolish, and pointless too, as this would one means to ensure victory...even if it would create difficulties by its effect, and aftermath.

They were large, in power and size; towering as tall the Balor at eleven or twelve foot tall, bulky and wielding the Staff Now Spear hidden in the storm but roaring and a presence felt by all. We cut down an imp with an easy swing as the power step forth unto the Material Plane as a great shuddering wave of power crashed out and down upon us. A signal of dominance, Gruumsh coming to the fore of His Cleric as We stood as a beacon of Ilneval, drawing more power to ourselves but signalling silently our mutual goals as ever. There was a battle to be won still after all, and even now Wendonai the Balor was aware of the threat as the Blood Emperor of The One Eye took His first step forward.

We had done all we could to prepare the battlefield for this moment since our awareness had been summoned forth in our {{{{incomplete}}}} entirety. This ground was hallowed, empowering us and the blood-soaked one, while weakening our foes, and the storm raged with divinely blessed rains and shattering blasts of lignthing as destruction covered the land. Our armies camps being a victim of such, tents poorly secured torn from the ground to fly passed out armoured form as we drove forward into the momentarily stunned mass of abominations and filth. More power joined ours, the inciting flames of the One Eye's Might driving away any cobwebs of fear as the beacon with a spear strode towards the beast with whip and sword.

"FORWARD! PURGE THE UNHOLY IN THE NAME OF THE GODS!" we roared out, thrusting the flaming sword into the air and enhancing our voice with our Power "THEY ARE YOU! DRIVE THE UNCLEAN BACK TO THE ABYSS! FOR ILLUSK! FOR THE GODS! FOR THE GREATER GOOD! LET ORDER PREVAIL!"

We drew deeply of the well of power of the ritual distant, from the heavens, from our core as we charged forward blade flashing, guards at my sides, and even Rose at my side as we empowered her blessings as with the others around us. The Balor was distracted now, torn between its true target of the Drow Chosen and the emerging threat of ourselves, and greater one of the Aspect/Avatar striding towards it with a mob of fearlessly insane orc berserkers all around His spear armed form. Again the rain came to our command, drying momentarily in a wall of calm ahead of us, flying back to form a film, then a wall of water that we threw forward in a wave into the screaming ranks of the enemy.

Then our disciplined ranks were amongst them, butchery at hand, focused fury as the Battle Meditation let us coordinate the deaths needed. Clerics and acolytes, even those not of our Gods, were essential to maintain the advance towards the walls as a cluster of mages focused upon Wendonai, further weakening it in the run up to the clash with the Divine. An efficient use of assets, and allowed us focus upon other tasks as thousands heeded our call and marched against the crumbling forces of the Abyss. Spell and blade, death and banishment, as we served to guide the whole towards victory even as orcs died within our awareness; individual threads in the tapestry, but as a unit the chaos had fallen away and the war-machine moved forward with eager eyes now.

A pillar of flames descended from the stormy skies to strike the Balor as the giants neared each other and we charged in from the flanks. The siege weapons and our archers were worthless now, either destroyed for those at the front at the start, or now waterlogged beyond a handful of magical weapons; which could not be aimed in the midst of such winds and rains we now fought under. Indeed without our magic and expanded senses through the Prayer-Chant Meditation it would be impossible to know what was occurring when, and exactly where upon the field of battle. The joys of the fog of war...but not us, not now; now we felt the clash between the titans of Divine and Abyss, heard and saw it within our mind as spear met fiery blade under the screaming and wailing skies.

Some aid needed to provided, even if just to make the show of Loyalty as we drew the water to us again, freezing it, hardening it...

Lashing out with icy spears made of blessed water to slam into the flanks of the great winged monster from the depths standing distant as a great roar erupted from hundreds of throats nearby as the battle frenzy infected all present. Karguk would be mildly concerned by the bloodlust in the eyes of the young human girl he had taken as daughter, but that was for a later time, and in truth was little out of the ordinary for the warrior-priestess that she had grown into. The fiercer aspects of her Patron at work, and ideal for what was needed in the hard times to come...if Victory was achieved of course, and they had a chance to arrive; now the coin was in the air...

"FORWARD! FOR ILNEVAL! FOR THE GODS!"