| Welcome to The White Counsil. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Mountains of Kuren w/ Pass of Kuren | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 9 2007, 06:56 PM (4,306 Views) | |
| Lathaon | Nov 12 2007, 12:21 AM Post #161 |
|
Fallen Archmage
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
((Don't worry about it.)) |
|
The White Counsil Medal of Loyalty The White Counsil Medal of Art | |
![]() |
|
| Hotshot | Nov 12 2007, 12:28 AM Post #162 |
![]()
The Lord Castoden
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
James woke with a start. Something was wrong, but he did not know what. His dreams had been dark, ominous...something was about to happen. "Darnil!" James shouted. "Darnil!" "Milord!" shouted Darnil as he threw the flap of the tent open and peered inside. “What’s wrong?” “I don’t know, but we need to get the men up,” said James. “Get them up and armed and formed into battalions immediately!” “Milord?” asked Darnil. “It is still a few hours before dawn.” “Get them up!” shouted James. “Do it now!” “Aye, Milord!” replied Darnil, and he immediately turned and left. Outside the tent, James could hear the sounds of the army being hastily woken and mustered. As he rose and began to don his armor, he tried to think of what had caused him to wake. He sifted through his mind, trying to recall the dreams that had taken place, and suddenly he remembered a figure, dressed in white, speaking to him, warning him that, “They’re coming!” shouted James suddenly. “Milord?” asked Darnil, sticking his head back inside. “Drathmor’s army is coming NOW!” shouted James, hastily stringing his belt around his waist and drawing his sword. He sprinted out of the tent and began shouting, “Everyone to the mouth of the pass! Form up into lines by battalion! Move!” Sergeants and officers scrambled to assemble their men as James ran, but he paid them no heed; they were veterans and they would be able to form as quickly as possible. He reached the mouth of the pass and peered down it, and in the distance he indeed saw shapes moving; Drathmor’s army was coming, and from what he could see was little more than ten minutes away. The memory of the strange figure in white appeared again in James’s mind, and he wondered who the figure was and what had prompted him to come to James, but he did not complain; that man had perhaps saved James’s army. Battalions began to form up around James, and he shouted, “Form a bowl around the mouth of the pass! We will be able to attack from three sides as they emerge! Move! Get in position! Archers behind the middle line only! Hit them as they come out!” James looked anxiously down the pass and saw that the shadowy shapes were still bearing down at breakneck speed; they were sprinting. Peloron walked up next to James and asked, “Where do you want my men?” “Dismount them and have them here, in the center,” said James, pointing to the ground with his sword. “We need them to form the bulwark of the defense.” “Yes, Milord,” said Peloron, and several moments later the entire contingent of knights was dismounted and ready to fight, swords and shields out. The shadowy figures were now within a few hundred yards and coming fast, and James could begin to make out their horrible features; these were no Orcs or Trolls that he had fought before. These were demons, and James gripped his sword tighter as the army approached his own. |
| |
![]() |
|
| Gorfang | Nov 12 2007, 03:23 PM Post #163 |
![]()
Nathaniel Drakkon
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Nathaniel had heard the commotion going on around the camp. The shouts, men running back and forth. He quickly got off the cot inside the tent and walked outside, the tent opening flapping in the wind. He heard the men shouting orders, and realised that the attack was coming now. He rushed to the hastily forming lines of the Weissland soldiers. He took up a slightly elevated position on a chunk of rock at the right side of the pass. From here he could see the enemy darting forward, demons in the van. And from here, he had clear lines of sight for his magic. For the time being, he left his sword in its scabbard, but he was sure he'd have use for it before this battle was done. The spirit hovered over his shoulder, her hands and chin resting on his left shoulder, in mock fear. She whispered gently "Things are looking grim." |
![]() Anubis, IPU is dead, long live IPU! A-Team member. "If a loyal servant of Weissland is threatened, I will aid him to my dying breath, with every drop of my blood. There are older and more powerful things in the world that have faced me and underestimated my resolve, to their end." - Nathaniel Drakkon "For what is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger!" - Aeron Damphair, a Song of Ice and Fire. Visit the Drakkon Grimoire - The Collected, Completed Nathaniel Drakkon Fiction | |
![]() |
|
| Alex | Nov 12 2007, 09:09 PM Post #164 |
![]()
Commander of the White Army
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Vardakh spurred his horse onwards. Before him were the fleshlings; driven mad and unleashed upon their enemies. His sword drawn, Vardakh ordered his cavalry to charge into the Weissland ranks. |
| |
![]() |
|
| Ariakas | Nov 12 2007, 11:48 PM Post #165 |
|
Unregistered
|
Loter sprinted from his tent, the long spear he had salvaged from the ruins of the Great Wall in his hands. He looked to James Castoden readying his forces. Loter realized he could not take his usual commanding-role in this battle, and moved somewhere behind the lines. He noticed Nathaniel Drakkon standing ready, and moved up to stand beside him greeting him with a nod. Oddly enough Nathaniel seemed calm. And not the calmness that veteran soldiers had in the thick of battle, but the calmness of someone who was at ease, like he was supported by something. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Mistrandar turned away from the huge dragon and is rider as cries of battle erupted around. He turned to the dragon rider, "Seems your meeting with the archmage has to wait," before turning around and quickly running towards the lines. |
|
|
| Lathaon | Nov 13 2007, 12:12 AM Post #166 |
|
Fallen Archmage
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Lathaon waited. It was unpleasant to hear the battlefield noises and know that he could do nothing to aid the soldiers yet. He felt ready. |
|
The White Counsil Medal of Loyalty The White Counsil Medal of Art | |
![]() |
|
| Gorfang | Nov 13 2007, 01:35 AM Post #167 |
![]()
Nathaniel Drakkon
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Nathaniel nodded back to Loter as he stood beside him. He felt relaxed, calm, despite the force rushing towards the Weissland lines. Lilith Albrecht still lent on his shoulder, whispering in hushed tones that only he could hear "They are coming Nathaniel. They are going to kill you, kill all of you. You are going to die." Nathaniel smiled slightly and spoke "Let them come. Its time we taught them a thing or two about fighting." He missed his staff, but he didn't require it for casting spells. He had the sword anyway. As he moved his hand down to the scabbard, time seemed to slow in that curious way it often did in combat. With a clear ring of steel he drew the sword and held it up in front of him, staring up at it with a look of utter clarity and calmness on his face, the faint flickering of a smile playing at the left side of his mouth. The sword shimmered green, then red, the runes flaring brightly like the sun. But he did not shield his eyes this time, he looked into the surface of that blade and saw things that no other could imagine. While in other times the runes would fade away from sight, this time the magic nearby was too strong, there was too much of it. The runes stayed there, glowing a bright red, while the blade itself shone with a lighter red, as if the metal itself was such a colour. |
![]() Anubis, IPU is dead, long live IPU! A-Team member. "If a loyal servant of Weissland is threatened, I will aid him to my dying breath, with every drop of my blood. There are older and more powerful things in the world that have faced me and underestimated my resolve, to their end." - Nathaniel Drakkon "For what is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger!" - Aeron Damphair, a Song of Ice and Fire. Visit the Drakkon Grimoire - The Collected, Completed Nathaniel Drakkon Fiction | |
![]() |
|
| Hotshot | Nov 13 2007, 01:00 PM Post #168 |
![]()
The Lord Castoden
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
The enemy forces grew ever closer, and James readied himself. "Men of Weissland!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Stand firm!" Drathmor's army smashed into the Weissland forces. The shield wall held but was driven back by the sheer force of the enemy numbers. It was then that the Weisslanders sprung the trap, charging in against the enemy's flanks. |
| |
![]() |
|
| Alex | Nov 13 2007, 05:51 PM Post #169 |
![]()
Commander of the White Army
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Vardakh watched as the Fleshlings, and later the forefront of Drathmor's host crashed against the Weissland shield wall. The soldiers stood firm; their shield arm strong and unyielding. Yet still, the forces of the Defiled Kingdom crashed against their flank, like water pouding at the rocky formations at world's end. Still, the Weisslanders stood strong and tall, and few of their number fell to the onslaught. They were well trained, and their counter-attacks were effective and well-measured. Perched upon his demonic mount, Vardakh smiled. Beneath his helmet, his pale blue eyes gleamed a deahly glow, anticipating the battle to come. Sensing his spirit was as one, Vardakh closed his eyes and relaxed. Inhaling deeply, meaningully, the Dark Lord of Omens' steely gaze from beneath his helm met the Weissland shield wall. Gracefully, he swung one leg over the neck of his mount and leapt to the solid ground. Beckoning his horse away, he made several cautiously slow steps towards the battle. Stepping through the hordes of Drathmor, Vardakh reached for his shoulder and drew Mkel's sword, it's cold steel ready to kiss the flesh of the Weissland's finest. In his left hand he drew his shortsword from his waist. The shortsword was unique amongst Drathmor's commanders, and it was made more unique by lack of a crossguard. Its diamond-shaped pommel doubled as a bludgeoning weapon, and the blade was fullered to the tip. Vardakh swung the two weapons in his hands, before approaching the shield wall at pace. |
| |
![]() |
|
| Lathaon | Nov 13 2007, 10:05 PM Post #170 |
|
Fallen Archmage
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
The words "They're here" came through a short chain of mouths and ears to reach the archmage. He climbed onto his mount and the eight eagles beat their wings, lifting themselves up into the air. Calling out to the others in the group, Lathaon said "Sense out those with magic. They will be our first targets." The eagles moved into formation. "For Weissland!" he yelled, and then dramatically thrust his staff into the air, raising a shield around them as he did so. They flew towards the battlefield, archers firing off blind shots into the horde. |
|
The White Counsil Medal of Loyalty The White Counsil Medal of Art | |
![]() |
|
| Mordus | Nov 13 2007, 11:21 PM Post #171 |
|
The Dark Seeker
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
--Enters from The Bone Fields-- He could see the uppermost tops of the Kuren peaks, jutting up from a far reaching sheet of cloud. The sun shon brightly upon everything, a stark contrast to the murky clouds broiling with battle beneath. He squinted his eyes at the unaccustomed brightness and frowned. Mordus swooped down through the clouds, whisps of vapur streeming across himself and his drake fleetingy as they plunged into a far darker reality, much better he thought. They headed in an almost vertical dive towards the pass - moving shapes far below, alternately dark and metalic. Whilst holding tightly to the reigns he made several contorted and violent gestures with his free hand. Dark tendrils of the most impenetrable dark errupted from his hand, swaying languidly like ethereal fire. In an instant he hurled it straight down at the masses. It streaked rapidly down, now a furious blaze and rippled amongst the corpses satisfyingly. |
| Glory is fleeting, but obscurity lasts for eternity. | |
![]() |
|
| Hotshot | Nov 14 2007, 02:36 AM Post #172 |
![]()
The Lord Castoden
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
James was in the center of the Weisslander line, Peloron and his knights around him, and they were putting up a fierce fight. The knights were well-protected in their full plate armor, and their martial prowess was second to none; James had not even been able to put his blade to the enemy because whenever one of the Undead got near him, Peloron and his men would quickly cut it down. The Weisslanders were holding strong, and the counterattacks against the enemy flanks had proved effective and devastating at first, but the enemy kept coming, and eventually the lines had stagnated and become rigid, and the fighting bogged down. |
| |
![]() |
|
| Gorfang | Nov 14 2007, 03:39 PM Post #173 |
![]()
Nathaniel Drakkon
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Nathaniel watched the Weissland lines fighting the enemy. He was too far back to engage in close combat, but in a good place for some magic. He looked at the enemy, the fleshlings at the forefront. Nathaniel spoke some words in hushed tones and four of the fleshlings which had not reached combat yet, lifted into the air, flailing to find something to hold onto. As Nathaniel rose them up to about eight feet from the ground, he spoke a single word to finish the spell. Each of the backs of the four fleshlings creaked and groaned and then with a violently loud crack, heard even above the sound of combat, their spines broke and splintered along with their necks and the dead bodies dropped into the mass of enemies, knocking some down and causing a momentary distraction. He held off using any other spells, as he felt it would be neccessary to find those perfect moments to aid the soldiers instead of wasting his energy when the battle had barely begun. |
![]() Anubis, IPU is dead, long live IPU! A-Team member. "If a loyal servant of Weissland is threatened, I will aid him to my dying breath, with every drop of my blood. There are older and more powerful things in the world that have faced me and underestimated my resolve, to their end." - Nathaniel Drakkon "For what is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger!" - Aeron Damphair, a Song of Ice and Fire. Visit the Drakkon Grimoire - The Collected, Completed Nathaniel Drakkon Fiction | |
![]() |
|
| Alex | Nov 14 2007, 06:05 PM Post #174 |
![]()
Commander of the White Army
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Vardakh smiled as he saw the bodies raise in the air. Seeing the undead finally dead before him, Vardakh realised his path to the forefront of the attack was blocked by the increasing number of bodies that were piling up. Sheathing the Sword of Mkel, the Dark Lord of Omens held out a straight arm and instantly, masses of bodies were blown away by the immense shockwaves. Whilst such demaning magics often drained their users, the bloodlust of Vardakh more-than-compensated for the slight weakness he felt in his legs. |
| |
![]() |
|
| chadden | Nov 14 2007, 11:12 PM Post #175 |
![]()
High Advisor to the Archmage
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Moarbrek sat atop his skeletal steed, far back in the ranks of the vast horde. From there, he watched the bloodshed unfold before him. The undead, though immense in number, lacked the discipline and skill of the Weissland soldiers. Breaking their ranks would be difficult. The Lich Lord turned to the Dark Disciples. "Go forth, creatures of Drathmor, and break these mortals. Teach them the cost of their deffiance." ----- *RPing as Xalis'Kan* Xalis'Kan did as Moarbrek commanded, as did the other three Disciples. He carried himself into the air, rising above the armies and moving towards the Weissland lines. Raising his right hand, he spoke fell words. In the next instant, he hurled a ball of blackest fire at the ranks of the enemy. This fire erupted upon impact, sending the defenders of Weissland hurtling in all directions. Under the watchful eye of their commanders, the minions of the Defiled Kingdom were quick to surge into this breach. Xalis'Kan smiled. ----- *RPing as Ruin* The Dragon Lord turned when he heard the sounds of battle. The Weissland mage was right; meeting with the Archmage would have to wait. For now, he would lay waste to these abominations. Ruin's mighty mount reared herself up before casting her form into the air. Her massive wings beat heavily as she moved quickly towards the Defiled Kingdom forces. Ruin raised his blade into the air, calling upon the powers within him. A magical wind surrounded him as he brought this power to bear; the very ground beneath the undead shook and quivered before splitting, dropping a good number of them into a pit. Next came a series of terrible shockwaves, which threw the foul creations aside as if they were no more than insects. Dropping low, the dragon flew just above the enemy. She tore her massive jaws through them, shredding many, before rising to the safety of the air once more. |
|
"Stand against me if you must, for of course you will. Conflict is just another part of this flawed reality. You need to cling to your concepts and purposes, your feeble honour and glory. None of it serves any purpose in the end. And the end draws close." - Krodalis Thaendil. "It really is amazing; she killed Kelan Wealer, not that I am complaining, but then the order welcomed her as their new leader. It makes one wonder if I were to ram a blade down her throat, would the monks then follow my commands?" - Mordain Thaendil. One of the Last Guardians. Suck it. | |
![]() |
|
| Gorfang | Nov 15 2007, 12:09 AM Post #176 |
![]()
Nathaniel Drakkon
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Nathaniel watched the utter destruction wrought by the magics of both the Defiled Kingdom and the warrior on the dragon. Men were dying, others were screaming in pain. Still the undead forces attacked. Sensing that the tide was turning, Nathaniel summoned up a strong portion of his power and began speaking words of magic in a booming voice, although that voice was lost among the melee of combat. He pulled condensation and moisture out of the air around him, pulling it together in small groups and freezing it. As he concentrated, Nathaniel formed dozens of small projectiles made of ice. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them hurtling at the enemy forces. They punched through flesh, impacted and stuck or bounced off bone or armour. Six undead fell to the projectiles. Still too few, Nathaniel thought. He needed to turn his attention to the enemy magic users, they were the ones doing the most damage, but they were also further away. |
![]() Anubis, IPU is dead, long live IPU! A-Team member. "If a loyal servant of Weissland is threatened, I will aid him to my dying breath, with every drop of my blood. There are older and more powerful things in the world that have faced me and underestimated my resolve, to their end." - Nathaniel Drakkon "For what is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger!" - Aeron Damphair, a Song of Ice and Fire. Visit the Drakkon Grimoire - The Collected, Completed Nathaniel Drakkon Fiction | |
![]() |
|
| Hotshot | Nov 15 2007, 12:21 AM Post #177 |
![]()
The Lord Castoden
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
The battle, which had been going so well for Weissland not long before, suddenly turned against them as dark magic and more assaulted their ranks. The center, anchored by James, Peloron, and the knights, still held strong against the Undead, but the flanks were beginning to falter. |
| |
![]() |
|
| chadden | Nov 15 2007, 12:51 AM Post #178 |
![]()
High Advisor to the Archmage
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
((The dragon is on Weissland's side. And also, how big is your army?)) *RPing as Xalis'Kan* Again, Xalis'Kan launched a ball of fire at the Weissland soldiers, and again a break in the ranks was spawned from the destruction. More undead were quick to fill the space. The Dark Disciple dropped low, reaping his scythe through the mortals. They were thrown aside and torn in two, unable to stand against the cold malevolence of his weapon. ----- *RPing as Ruin* Ruin brought his dragon across the enemy ranks. He wrought a path of destruction deep into the heart of the horde, before bringing his dragon back up, turning, and repeating the attack in the opposite direction. The undead could not stand against him, but he could tell that his attacks, powerful as they were, could not do enough damage. The enemy's number was too vast. |
|
"Stand against me if you must, for of course you will. Conflict is just another part of this flawed reality. You need to cling to your concepts and purposes, your feeble honour and glory. None of it serves any purpose in the end. And the end draws close." - Krodalis Thaendil. "It really is amazing; she killed Kelan Wealer, not that I am complaining, but then the order welcomed her as their new leader. It makes one wonder if I were to ram a blade down her throat, would the monks then follow my commands?" - Mordain Thaendil. One of the Last Guardians. Suck it. | |
![]() |
|
| Gorfang | Nov 15 2007, 01:21 AM Post #179 |
![]()
Nathaniel Drakkon
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
Nathaniel felt rather redundant here. Stuck near the back of the lines, all he could do was launch a few magical attacks, removing a few drops in the ocean which was the Defiled Kingdom army. His eyes moved over the seething mass of the enemy, searching for a proper target. He could see the more powerful beings, Drathmor's disciples, but they would have good magical defence and it would take a combined assault to bring them down. He continued looking and then spied a lesser mortal necromancer further back in the assaulting lines of undead. Nathaniel had found a target alright. He began to speak, the words of the spell pouring forth. The spell reached out for the necromancer, slowly, like a predator waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting prey. Suddenly, the necromancer found that he could not move his leg. The man, clad in dark red robes seemed confused at first, and looked down at his leg. Then he tugged at it, but the limb refused to budge. As he began to panic, as the undead pushed passed him to attack, he found his other leg was also stuck fast. Nathaniel looked up at the rocks of the pass, and smiled slightly. A few more words, and there was a slight rumble. A sheet of rock collapsed away from the pass above where the necromancer was stuck, the man looked up with horror on his face as the rock slid then tumbled from the cliff. With a mighty slam and a sickening squeltch, the necromancer and several of the undead around him were pulverised by the boulder, which was at least a foot in width and length. |
![]() Anubis, IPU is dead, long live IPU! A-Team member. "If a loyal servant of Weissland is threatened, I will aid him to my dying breath, with every drop of my blood. There are older and more powerful things in the world that have faced me and underestimated my resolve, to their end." - Nathaniel Drakkon "For what is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger!" - Aeron Damphair, a Song of Ice and Fire. Visit the Drakkon Grimoire - The Collected, Completed Nathaniel Drakkon Fiction | |
![]() |
|
| Hotshot | Nov 15 2007, 02:01 AM Post #180 |
![]()
The Lord Castoden
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
((Whoops misunderstood that. I have about 60,000 men under my command.)) As more and more Weisslanders were slain by the undead forces and their masters' magical attacks, James knew something had to be done. While his men were too disciplined to turn tail and run, he could see that their morale was quickly being drained and their will to fight was diminishing; the battle had raged for near an hour at this point, and the undead bodies were piling up, somewhat slowing the enemy advance. Yet still they came, and James knew that it would only be so long before his men would falter completely. There would be no winning this fight, and there was no point in staying to die; they had given Ataya as much time as possible, and now it was time to end this. "Peloron!" shouted James over the din of the battle. "Get your men ready!" "For what?" asked Peloron. "To charge!" |
| |
![]() |
|
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Weissland · Next Topic » |
| Track Topic · E-mail Topic |
1:16 AM Jul 11
|





![]](http://z6.ifrm.com/static/1/pip_r.png)










1:16 AM Jul 11