The First Blight: Curse of Dumat [RP/Closed]
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The ground had never seemed so beautiful but the relief was short lived. They seemed to be too late everywhere they went. "We'll just have to press forward."
"We should approach with stealth-We'll need to if we're to be of any use."
Despite his vulnerable state, turning tail never occurred to him.
Despite his vulnerable state, turning tail never occurred to him.
Antiva City was strewn with corpses; in the southern district they laid three deep in some places. Only one guard remained standing there: Jarrik de Avalos, still largely unhurt thanks to his heavy armor. Only three Darkspawn were left to face him, but more Darkspawn were coming all the time, whereas there was no sign that Antiva City has any guards left to give.
The last living Hurlock charged on Jarrick and fetched him a heavy axe blow to his breastplate; this dealt damage, but was mostly mitigated by said armor.
Two Emissaries, their battalion mostly dead now, turned their rage on Jarrick as well. They fired bolts of lightning into the knight; these crackled over his body, dealing substantially more damage than the axe.
The last living Hurlock charged on Jarrick and fetched him a heavy axe blow to his breastplate; this dealt damage, but was mostly mitigated by said armor.
Two Emissaries, their battalion mostly dead now, turned their rage on Jarrick as well. They fired bolts of lightning into the knight; these crackled over his body, dealing substantially more damage than the axe.
The closer they grew to the city gates, the denser the corpses. Antiva City?s lines of defenses had been overwhelmed, the gates smashed and splintered. The combat had moved within the walls, and if they did not turn the tide they would have no one left to demand aid from.
Thaedrin turned toward his Wardens, eyes fixed on their mostly empty hands, ?Get what weapons you can from the fallen, there isn?t time!?
Ghil still had her broadsword, which she drew now in anticipation of the charge, ?With me!?
Thaedrin turned toward his Wardens, eyes fixed on their mostly empty hands, ?Get what weapons you can from the fallen, there isn?t time!?
Ghil still had her broadsword, which she drew now in anticipation of the charge, ?With me!?
"And the day had started so well..."
With the sun beginning to wane in the sky and the air chocked with smoke, Jarrik stood alone amid make-shift barricades that had funneled the carnage. With the bay at their backs and everyone wealthy enough to afford the newly extravagant rights of passage with remaining ships already fled, everyone else was left without recourse: fight or die. There was no where to retreat.
Scores of men had rushed to defend their homes and livelihood from sell swords, cut purses, merchants, peasants and what remained of the city guard. They all stood, and died, as one for the once in their lives. Few had any equipment to speak of, in truth Jarrik was only on his feet because of the steel encircling him. The normally gleaming plates long since caked in blood, human and darkspawn alike.
His arms felt like lead, Jarrik was not one to tire easily, but hours of fighting had taken its toll. And the three remaining darkspawn had done little to improve matters. Even as his mind focused on his skin burning and the aching in his chest where the axe had impacted, enough muscle memory had been drilled in to act without thought though. Jarrik battered through the Hurlock's feeble guard with his shield and drove his spear into the monsters side, retreating sluggishly to his guarded stance ready for the next assault.
With the sun beginning to wane in the sky and the air chocked with smoke, Jarrik stood alone amid make-shift barricades that had funneled the carnage. With the bay at their backs and everyone wealthy enough to afford the newly extravagant rights of passage with remaining ships already fled, everyone else was left without recourse: fight or die. There was no where to retreat.
Scores of men had rushed to defend their homes and livelihood from sell swords, cut purses, merchants, peasants and what remained of the city guard. They all stood, and died, as one for the once in their lives. Few had any equipment to speak of, in truth Jarrik was only on his feet because of the steel encircling him. The normally gleaming plates long since caked in blood, human and darkspawn alike.
His arms felt like lead, Jarrik was not one to tire easily, but hours of fighting had taken its toll. And the three remaining darkspawn had done little to improve matters. Even as his mind focused on his skin burning and the aching in his chest where the axe had impacted, enough muscle memory had been drilled in to act without thought though. Jarrik battered through the Hurlock's feeble guard with his shield and drove his spear into the monsters side, retreating sluggishly to his guarded stance ready for the next assault.
"Killll himmmm," one of the Emissaries groaned. It was apparently quite overtaken by its own bloodlust, as its next bolt went wildly astray and blew a chunk out of a nearby mill.
The other Emissary, more cool-headed, landed another strike, putting a shard of ice through Jarrik's calf.
The Hurlock, stumbling back after taking his blow, responded in kind, again striking true, though again without too great an effect.
The other Emissary, more cool-headed, landed another strike, putting a shard of ice through Jarrik's calf.
The Hurlock, stumbling back after taking his blow, responded in kind, again striking true, though again without too great an effect.
Diocles' keen eyes quickly surveyed the battlefield, and he seized a strung bow and half-full quiver from a darkspawn corpse. He took only a moment to adjust for the strength of the bow, its uneven nature, and the lack of proper nocking points. His arrow flew true despite the difficulty, wounding the Emissary slinging ice. He shouted fervently, hoping to draw the beast's attention.
"Your doom approaches!"
"Your doom approaches!"
Ulrin followed after Diocles into the battle field. Like the archer he looked over the bodies as he ran, stopping to pick up a knife. The elf followed up the human rogue's attack on the genlock with one of his own. slashing into the monster's arms.
"You damn monsters never quit!"
"You damn monsters never quit!"
Ghil found the Hurlock warrior on the lone guard and gave it a new target. Her broadsword slashed in an arc across its backside, and while it shrieked in its shock she gave it a solid kick to the gut. The woman danced around the foe to defend the armored man, shouting at him, "Run! Go!"
"Damn...!" Thaedrin cursed as his spell went wide of its target; perhaps Alrik's blood had not rejuvenated him as much as he'd thought.
"Damn...!" Thaedrin cursed as his spell went wide of its target; perhaps Alrik's blood had not rejuvenated him as much as he'd thought.
Seeing bodies was still not easy nor was rooting through them for weapons. A staff lay a few feet away from a corpse and she rushed forward to grab it. She did not have the time to consider how wrong it was to take from the dead, it was more important to say, focus on the darkspawn that were still standing.
The staff was unfamiliar and possibly damaged. It felt foreign. Her spell seemed to sputter out of the end of the staff, striking down a darkspawn.
The staff was unfamiliar and possibly damaged. It felt foreign. Her spell seemed to sputter out of the end of the staff, striking down a darkspawn.
"Ah, Ser de Avalos. Yes, I believe we'd be interested in services. Here's your stipend for the month as requested."
There'd be none of that cheap Tevinter swill now, only the finest Antivian reds. He had thought to himself leaving the merchant steward's office. That was before deciding that perhaps a pre-breakfast drink to celebrate was in order.
Then the watchtower bells began to ring.
The darkspawn's last assault left Jarrik nearly leveled, but not quite broken. He was beginning to loose feeling, nerves frayed with conflicting messages of skin burned with lightning then frosted cold and the creeping dull numbness of absorbing blow after blow from that Hurlock's axe.
Where was the glory in this? No one sings tales of the last soul added to the pile of the dead.
The Hurlock pressed the advantage, slamming into the armored warrior in an attempted to force him to stumble back on the wounded leg. Luck or skill, in the middle of a melee it's often hard to tell, but Jarrik managed at the last moment to set his spear for the Hurlock's charge. The heavy shaft bending under the vile beast's weight, holding it at bay but not quite piercing its hide. Jarrik took the opportunity to crack it across the jaw with the hardened shield, just as much as weapon in practiced hands as any razored edge.
There'd be none of that cheap Tevinter swill now, only the finest Antivian reds. He had thought to himself leaving the merchant steward's office. That was before deciding that perhaps a pre-breakfast drink to celebrate was in order.
Then the watchtower bells began to ring.
The darkspawn's last assault left Jarrik nearly leveled, but not quite broken. He was beginning to loose feeling, nerves frayed with conflicting messages of skin burned with lightning then frosted cold and the creeping dull numbness of absorbing blow after blow from that Hurlock's axe.
Where was the glory in this? No one sings tales of the last soul added to the pile of the dead.
The Hurlock pressed the advantage, slamming into the armored warrior in an attempted to force him to stumble back on the wounded leg. Luck or skill, in the middle of a melee it's often hard to tell, but Jarrik managed at the last moment to set his spear for the Hurlock's charge. The heavy shaft bending under the vile beast's weight, holding it at bay but not quite piercing its hide. Jarrik took the opportunity to crack it across the jaw with the hardened shield, just as much as weapon in practiced hands as any razored edge.
Alrik sprinted at one of the mages and swung his axe in a blow that likely would have taken its head off if it hadn't ducked, avoiding the blade entirely. Alrik looked marginally offended.
The Genlock mages knew when they were overmatched; both tapped deep into their last reserves, and each unleashed a mighty fireball. These exploded centered upon the group of newcomers, blowing Alrik, Ghil, and Ulrin off their feet.
The Hurlock, single-minded to the end, barely noticed the grievous damage Ghil dealt to him and continued swinging away at Jarrik, again dealing only a small amount of damage.
The Genlock mages knew when they were overmatched; both tapped deep into their last reserves, and each unleashed a mighty fireball. These exploded centered upon the group of newcomers, blowing Alrik, Ghil, and Ulrin off their feet.
The Hurlock, single-minded to the end, barely noticed the grievous damage Ghil dealt to him and continued swinging away at Jarrik, again dealing only a small amount of damage.
"Run! Go!"
For a moment the haze of heavy fatigue lifted and Jarrik was startled to notice he was not alone. At first glance it appeared to be some last wave of common folk, finally steeled to dying, joining the fray. One didn't even have a shirt, but his welcome relief fought much to well for hands more accustomed to fishing nets and plows.
A large burly woman nearly cleaved the Hurlock he was fighting in two. Its attention split between foes, he lashed out with the blunt end of the spear, tripping up the wounded darkspawn. As it tried to scramble to its feet, a final jab to the neck sealed its fate with vile ichor spilling out onto the street.
"Them that could flee have already, but whoever you are, you have my thanks."
For a moment the haze of heavy fatigue lifted and Jarrik was startled to notice he was not alone. At first glance it appeared to be some last wave of common folk, finally steeled to dying, joining the fray. One didn't even have a shirt, but his welcome relief fought much to well for hands more accustomed to fishing nets and plows.
A large burly woman nearly cleaved the Hurlock he was fighting in two. Its attention split between foes, he lashed out with the blunt end of the spear, tripping up the wounded darkspawn. As it tried to scramble to its feet, a final jab to the neck sealed its fate with vile ichor spilling out onto the street.
"Them that could flee have already, but whoever you are, you have my thanks."
Ghil looked almost surprised at the dead Darkspawn at her feet. Her eyes swept over the man's copious plate and nodded stiffly in response. Who was she to argue? She turned on her heel to aid her comrades in the fight against the two enemy mages. Her sword flashed up and severed the arm of an emissary from its body. As it screamed, suddenly a spell hit it from the side and drained it of the last of its blood and life force.
Thaedrin retreated quickly out of range once he had delivered his blow, "Be cautious, there's still one left!"
Thaedrin retreated quickly out of range once he had delivered his blow, "Be cautious, there's still one left!"
Diocles notched another arrow, noticed an imperfection in the fletching, and dropped it. He drew another and, finally satisfied, took aim. His previous target was still alive-A fact which could be quickly rectified. He drew his bow while following Ulrin's movements carefully, firing his arrow directly at the elf's hand-The arrow cleared it as the elf continued his swing, digging into the genlock.
Ulrin was flung from his feet by the attacking Genlocks. The rogue forced himself to stand over the corpses and newly chared bodies to advance forward again. One of his knives cutting into the monster, the other missed. As Ghil turned her attention toward the genlock he was facingand finished he gave her a grin. "Lets finish these things off before they call up more Hurlocks!"
A single darkspawn remained standing and with any luck, it would not remain so for long. She still could not quite get the catalyst to do what she wanted. Sulahn'nehn rose the found staff in the air and swung it down with a shout. All she seemed to do was just knock the Genlock off balance rather than away. Her brow furrowed in frustration.
The last remaining Emissary backed away, and for a moment there was relative quiet as he appraised them. It was through this silence that a steady vibration became apparent: footsteps.
A Darkspawn Ogre wearing heavy armor exploded through a stable wall less than a block away, hurling a dead guard to the ground before looking up to see the Wardens.
The Emissary took advantage of the distraction to strike Thaedrin with a bolt of lightening. As for the ogre, it charged down the road for them, cobbles flying in its wake. As it ran, it lifted an abandon wagon and hurled it overhand. This impacted among the Wardens, exploding into splinters though miraculously hitting none of them.
A Darkspawn Ogre wearing heavy armor exploded through a stable wall less than a block away, hurling a dead guard to the ground before looking up to see the Wardens.
The Emissary took advantage of the distraction to strike Thaedrin with a bolt of lightening. As for the ogre, it charged down the road for them, cobbles flying in its wake. As it ran, it lifted an abandon wagon and hurled it overhand. This impacted among the Wardens, exploding into splinters though miraculously hitting none of them.
Diocles' let out a low whistle as the ogre emerged, but he didn't let it distract from what he regarded as a priority target. An emissary could heal that thing, paralyze, or worse. Best to keep it distracted. He sent another inferior arrow its way. The blunt tip couldn't penetrate its armor, but he surely bruised its ribs.