Preparing for War

Daskalos

I don't have the first part of this logged, as it was before I went to work, but Xavin approached Daskalos about helping Duiran against Juxa Steelhew. Daskalos begins preparations. (also, much kudos to whoever the god was for this, since I was at work!)

The post:

ENORIAN NEWS #4114
Date: 2/19/2014 at 17:02
From: Daskalos Qefin
To  : Everyone
Subj: The Demon Blade

Citizens -

The woman who slaughtered the Trolls of Hashan with the Demon Blade and set up her own empire within Tasur'ke is now planning to march south towards our allies, Duiran.

Should they pass Duiran, they will most likely continue their southward march, towards Salmia, Delos, Arbothia, and eventually Enorian as they seek to push out any who would oppose them. I have instructed Sir Saybre, our Knight Marshall, to organize a defense.

We make our stand with Duiran. I will be reaching out to the villages nearby, to see if they can send aide as well. We are the chosen, those who will bring about the Age of Dawn. This is a direct threat to our purpose and cause.

Prepare for war.

Daskalos Qefin
Vanguard of Enorian

--

The preparations:

[spoiler]

You say, "Greetings, Mayor."

Mayor Thurgil Redstein bows respectfully to you.

Obligingly, Mayor Thurgil Redstein says, "Vanguard."

"Have you heard the rumblings from up north?" Daskalos asks, his face wearing an open expression of friendship.

Mayor Thurgil Redstein rumbles gruffly, tugging at his beard. "Aye. Grim portents. That sham of a queen's up to no good."

"The Queen is false, but the power she wields, the Demon Blade..." Daskalos says in a low voice. "It is to be feared, and that is not something I say easily."

Mayor Thurgil Redstein winces just to hear the weapon's name. He turns away, staring through the window without really looking. "It's a terrible thing that sword has wrought. I feel an immense anguish, to think of her marching south on our innocent lands."

"Enorian means to make a stand with Duiran in the coming months when the Queen attacks," Daskalos says as he studies you carefully. "We have long stood together as allies, and any of your men that can be sent to bolster the forces in Duiran will be appreciated. Our plan is to stop them there, but if we fail... a full retreat into Enorian's walls will be next in line as we regroup."

You say, "I will be speaking to the other village soon, but in deference to our long friendship, I sought you out first. If you stand with this alliance against the Queen, it will help convince the others to join."

This takes a long time to absorb. Mayor Thurgil Redstein sputters and sighs as he thinks over the various ramifications. "If Tainhelm should join the fight... you will provide us refuge, should we fall?"

Daskalos nods in the affirmative. "Aye, Mayor. Even if you don't join us, should we fail at Duiran, I would recommend you and yours, along with all the other villages, to evacuate into Enorian or deep within your mountain, because if we don't stop the Queen..." His voice trails off, leaving the thought unfinished.

"There may be no refuge at all," Mayor Thurgil Redstein says, finishing your sentence.

"Even when the ancient Temple that stood where Enorian is now fell, the walls remained. It is my hope that they will hold should we be forced to retreat," Daskalos says quietly.

Mayor Thurgil Redstein puffs himself up, drawing to his full four feet. "My lads forge fine iron, Vanguard. We will be on the front lines, ready with hammer, with mace, with blade and axe! Your walls will remain standing, unblemished - and so will mine."

Daskalos offers a hand, his eyes gleaming with pride. "It is well that I can call you friend, Thurgil Redstein."

"Enorian has always looked after our interests. I will consult with my people - our soldiery is not so impressive, but we'll do what we can," Mayor Thurgil Redstein promises, and takes a bow.

Daskalos returns the bow, nodding. "Thank you, Mayor."

<movement to Delos>

You see Pericles speaking animatedly with a few members of the Delosian Guard, critiquing their recent training exercise.

Captain Pericles of the Delosian Guard halts for a moment, spotting you. "Ah, if it isn't Qefin."

You have emoted: "How are you, Captain?" Daskalos asks curiously.

Captain Pericles of the Delosian Guard strides toward you, easy and practiced on his crutch. "Fine, quite fine," he says, airing a mote of suspicion. "What can Captain Pericles do for this... unexpected and unannounced visitation?"

"Forgive my intrusion - I have come to ask your help," Daskalos says in an even voice. "I know Delos is neutral in all things, but I don't think the Demon Blade will care."

"The hell's the--" Spotting a lapse in discipline, Captain Pericles of the Delosian Guard takes a moment to bark a vile curse at one of his trainees. "Oh, right, the blasted Swordswoman of Hashan. And what, you've come to spook me too?"

"I've come to tell you we mean to make a stand in Duiran -- the forest folk believes she will strike south," Daskalos says as a ghost of a smile crosses his face at the training, "We could use men like yours to stand. It is only a short distance from Duiran to here, and then Enorian."

Captain Pericles of the Delosian Guard laughs coarsely in your face. "You think she'd be stupid enough to march on Delos? Look around you," he urges, balancing on the good leg, waving his crutch without a care. "Grand Delos, unblemished by the scuffles of the states. Why should I send my good men to go fight in your war?"

Captain Pericles of the Delosian Guard says, "We're traders. We're merchants."

"What use does the power of the Demon Blade need of traders and merchants?" Daskalos counters. "You have an Ankyrean here, the last true one. Perhaps she'll wish to study him. You are lucky the Dreikathi did not attack here. You do not have to join us -- we are not tyrants, we do not conscript people. And should the Queen march through our lines and make her way south, you and your men will still be welcome to take refuge in Enorian, alongside all your citizens. But why risk it?"

Captain Pericles of the Delosian Guard grunts at you, moving on past you, glowering and yelling at more of his recruits. They don't appear to actually be coming short in their drills - rather, his disciplinary style dictates that X amount of noise must emanate from his mouth per minute, and he seems to keep rigidly to this quota. With a distracted glance back, he says, "I wasn't gonna agree to a thing without giving you a hard time first, Vanguard. I'll talk to the men, see what we can muster. But don't get your hopes up - Delos doesn't keep what you'd think of as an army."

Under his breath, Captain Pericles of the Delosian Guard says, "We don't need one."

"Understood, Captain. But the few may make the difference," Daskalos says quietly, his voice filled with an unfamiliar tone - uncertainty.

<Off to Torston>

You say to Lesiv, the Torstonite chieftain, "Salutations, Chieftain Lesiv of Torston."
A wary Xorani guard says, "I luv Torston. Peaceful an' quiet. Hear tuh frogs a' nigh' and the crickets in tuh mornin'"

Lesiv is a rather unhealthy-looking man, though his face is one riddled with good nature. A stout Xoran, he has a belly that overhangs his chainmail's belt and a lizard-like beard graces his chin. His mottled brown scales have been worn smooth and soft by age, broken in many places. Kind blue eyes peer out at the world, though they are riddled with a glint of suspicion and paranoia. In his hands, he clutches a massive steel bardiche, its handle made of finely cut driftwood. He is called 'Lesiv.'

Lesiv, the Torstonite chieftain utters a wracking cough, sending his chainmail clinking. "Shaddap, Getel, he weren't talkin' to you."

Lesiv, the Torstonite chieftain blinks vapidly at you. "Well, what'cha need?"

Daskalos laughs suddenly at the Chieftain, a calm look of relief passing his face. "You remind me of my uncle, Lesiv. I was a Xorani before this... form. Blunt and to the point. I like it, so I will endeavor the same. The false Queen wields the Demon Blade and seeks to march south. Duiran will be the next target according to the wildlings, and Enorian means to stand with them, bolstered by the dwarves of Tainhelm and some of Captain Perciles' men from Delos. I come seeking allies to stop this threat. Should we fail, we believe she will march south through all of our homes."

Lesiv, the Torstonite chieftain purses his crocodilian mouth, making a guttural crooning noise of wonder. "Well golly, that's a hell of a predick- predi-- hoff--" Doubling over, he deposits several deep, wet coughs into his fist. "Whew! What a pickle. Welp. I imagine you're wantin' us to help, ain't you."

"If you can, but I come with another offer as well -- should you not be able to send men, but we fail, you and your men will be welcome within our walls. I imagine it will be crowded, but you will be alive until she marches towards us." Daskalos says with a sullen tone.

Lesiv, the Torstonite chieftain strokes the swoop of his neck. "I'll be damned. You mean I can get outta this dump? Hell, I hope she wins! Say, you folks think you can make me a duke, or a lord, or whatever you call it, while we're at it?"

You blink.

Lesiv, the Torstonite chieftain sneezes at a wary Xorani guard.

Laughing gregariously, Lesiv, the Torstonite chieftain says, "I'm just kiddin', Vanguard!"

Daskalos seems as if he was about to say something, then cracks a smile. "You had me going, Lesiv," he admits ruefully.

"Mmmgh. Well don't expect me to fight, unless you wan' me to charge in and give 'em a good sneeze first, but hell, the boys've been rowdy. Think a good fight would do 'em well." Lesiv, the Torstonite chieftain looms closer, and shifts his eyes from side to side. "Between you an' me, a lot of us don't right fancy trolls."

The popping sound of strained joints emanates from a wary Xorani guard as he stretches tiredly.

"It's not about the races of the others, but about the threat of the Demon Blade," Daskalos says with a shrug, before his eyes take on a mischievous glint. "Though, if I could direct them towards that Imp up north I might wait a bit before organizing a defense."

Lesiv, the Torstonite chieftain shrugs. "They ain't bothered me much as of late, but I'd hardly lose sleep over a coupl'a dead Spireans. Anyway, where're we meetin'?"

"The core of the Great Oak, in Duiran," Daskalos says with a nod. "I'll let the Feral Will know to expect your men."

"Right! You heard da-" Lesiv, the Torstonite chieftain horks out a series of explosive coughs.
 
A wary Xorani guard , anticipating the order, heads off at once.

 Lesiv trudges southeast, bardiche tightly clutched.

 Bardiche at the ready, Lesiv tramples in from the southeast.

Lesiv, the Torstonite chieftain says, "Yeah, go that way. that way's clear."

 A powerful Xorani guard heads southeast, sensing something in the distance.
 
#THEEND

[/spoiler]

Daskalos

Daskalos challenges Juxa Stellhew. This wasn't his smartest move of the day.

[spoiler]

the Underking's Maul
The haft of this gray maul is the height of an average human, and its smooth, spherical bludgeoning top the width of a fat ogre's belly. Bright white veins run up and down the length of the entire weapon and pulse occasionally with raw power. It would take immense strength to pick this dense, cumbersome weapon up, let alone wield it.

You say to Juxa Steelhew, the Vagrant Queen, "I am the Hand of the Underking and wield His weapon. Face me, Steelhew."

Juxa Steelhew, the Vagrant Queen offers you a long, derisive stare.

Turning to plant the tip of her sword on the ground and leaning upon the hilt, Juxa Steelhew, the Vagrant Queen says, "You are more direct than the creeling fools who have come before me before. A dusty relic will not spare you from the hunger of the Demon Blade."

"You will not win, Steelhew. We are blessed by our Lords, and empowered by Them. We are empowered wit holy purpose," Daskalos says defiantly, gripping the Underking's Maul tightly. "Your army will fall against our might. And you will die by my hand."

"What of your Lords?" Juxa Steelhew, the Vagrant Queen barks scornfully. Her weapon dances with fire, describing a slow, parabolic arc. "What of your holy purpose? Your weak Gods are no obstacle. I will pike your heads - and toss Theirs to our dogs."

 "Never!" Daskalos cries out in anger, bringing the Maul up for a strike.

Juxa Steelhew, the Vagrant Queen raises her sword, likewise, the air around her ensconced in grisly energy. "Come and die, manling!"

Agony erupts in your side as Juxa Steelhew, the Vagrant Queen slashes you wide open, crimson fire and blackened meat left in the wake of her unholy blade.

You see Juxa Steelhew, the Vagrant Queen yell, "Enough! Bring me a real adversary!"

With a brutal thrust, Juxa Steelhew, the Vagrant Queen spits you on the searing length of her sword, twisting the blade cruelly through your vitals before ripping it loose.

You say, "I will go confer with my Lord now."

You fall to the ground as the last drops of life-giving blood drain out of your body.
You have been slain by Juxa Steelhew, the Vagrant Queen.

Four Corners --

Daskalos stumbles onto the street, his face bleeding and damage nearly destroyed. As he nears the bench, he collapses onto it, writhing in pain.

Cole tongues his cheek lightly and glances to Larissa. "Figure that ain't good," he drawls out dully, voice echoing from within a wide-brimmed close helm.

"Steelhew," Daskalos he gasps out, his skin still crawling with demonic energies. "Hopeless..." he whispers before slumping into unconsciousness.

Juxa Steelhew, the Vagrant Queen shouts, "Go home, warriors. If that is your best, then we will send our children to conquer your homes."

Cole eyes the injuries on you for a moment, then shakes his head. "Figure we ought t' find a priest'r somethin'," he says, sounding dubious still. "I, uh. I ain't exactly a medic. Sawbones't best, 'n he needs more'n someone hackin' off a leg."

Larissa shakes her head, "I ain't a medic neither. I cause wounds, don't tend 'em." Glancing around, she nods to Liska. "Daskalos. He needs tending..."

Eyes widening in alarm Liska asks, "What's wrong?!" her usually happy tone totally gone from her voice.

Cole moves to hitch his thumbs in his belt, expression pensive. "Girl with a demon sword's still a girl," he says after a moment. "But, figure we ain't able t' mess with th' girl bit 'til we peel out th' sword, seein' as it did all that t' him. Any ideas?"

Daskalos stirs slightly, a groan rumbling through his chest as his left eye weakly opens.

Areka leans down from atop his steed's back and further peels back your eye. "CAN YOU HEAR US, HAND?" He loudly states before leaning back to give Liska room.

Daskalos slowly awakens, shaking his head, his wounds scabbing over. "What--?" he manages to utter, his throat dry and parched.

Cole pauses as you seems to wake up, nodding towards you. "Talk t' th' big guy, figure out from there?" he suggests.

Soldier Larissa Cardinalis says to you, "Demon Sword took ya down.  Came in and collapsed on us, Vanguard."

 Daskalos glances at Liska, offering the best he can for a smile. Unfortunately, it rips open a facial scab and he starts bleeding anew as he sips from the bowl, his throat clearing. "I... I challenged her. I am His Hand and have His weapon... I thought... I could save lives."

Pulls the semi conscious you into as upright a sitting position she can, leaning you against her for support Liska "You shouldn't have tried by yourself..." She quavers quietly.

Looking up to the others present, Liska Qefin, Phoenix of Light says, "Can we move him? Something tells me he should be by the great spark."

"She... the blade is her source of power, I think," Daskalos says, grimacing as he tries to sit up. His armor, nearly destroyed, hangs loosely about his form. He grabs one of the pauldrons and rips it the rest of the way off, tossing it aside. "She... I've fought gods before. Severn and I once came to blows.... nothing like this..." his voice trails down to a whisper as his eyes close once more, tears - of frustration, perhaps? - form on his clenched eyes. "Powerless.... like a child".

Areka slips down from the boar to offer a broad hand to you. "Let's get you by your fire-thing." He states, patting his steed's back as if an invite to let you slouch there for a time.

Soldier Larissa Cardinalis says to Knight Areka Morrog, "I don't suppose it channels, naw.  I suppose that perhaps it's a thing of strength, like His weapon."

"She wielded it, and while she held it, she was... untouchable. My attacks had no affect," Daskalos says, reaching up to take the proferred hand. "Wait..." he says as he notices Xavin.

Liska slings one of your arms over her shoulder and attempts to stand with him. His dead weight holds her back for a moment before she manages to get both of them upright. "Can you walk?" She asks "Or do I have to carry you?"

"Everything... we must put everything we have into stopping them," Daskalos he says, reaching out for Xavin, his eyes wild. "She plans to slay the gods!"

Xavin frowns deeply at that, leaning heavily against an aetherstaff of gnarled obsidian. "We will stop her. We must."

[/spoiler]

Benedicto

One word. Awesome.

Riluo

Good job mate, you convey a really good leader. I just hope this event keeps going and brings some need fun to the game.