Day Four

Jim and Rini led the refugees south long after the sun had gone down. They had stopped for two hours in the late evening and continued under the cover of night. Jacen commandeered a pack horse which had been stripped down and used it to help guard and scout the rear flank with most of the remaining guards.

As Avelia's Beacon shone its first light back into the lands of Kenshuria, there had been no signs of pursuit. As the complaints and pleas of the villagers increased, the group finally stopped to rest. Most people fell asleep immediately even in the brightening morning light. Jim and Rini shrugged off the need for sleep, there were more important issues at hand. Jacen found some time to doze off; as much as his body wanted to keep going, his mind was still greatly fatigued from its strain in the brief battle at Wistria.

After overseeing preparation of the breakfast that would occur when the villagers woke up, Jim and Rini joined the guards at the back of the makeshift camp. It was far too calm, the Venurians would try something soon. Still, it was hard to move an army as fast as a group this size, they would have a lead on them already. After some deliberation, the guards, Jim, Rini, and a yawning Jacen agreed that five hours rest would be the limit. That would be followed by half an hour for breakfast, and then they would continue south.

By noontime, the partly revitalized group of refugees were making decent progress. There was still no sign of any kind of pursuit, or any event at all for that matter. The plains of northern and central Stradia were often lonely and uneventful.

In the late evening, one of the more keen-eyed scouts caught sight of a something in the far west. It was gone before the other guards could get a look, but the young man swore he saw a gray wolf sprinting across the plains.

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Gorn and the company didn't bother to stop for lunch. Amelia performed a rejuvenation spell on everyone in mid-morning. They all felt as if they had slept for hours and eaten a full meal once the effects set in. This left Amelia drained, however, and after heavy deliberation and minor argument Raenor lent a shoulder for her to lean on as they continued south. Darren travelled in the back of the group after that, moping and sulking far too often for a grown man.

The only stop they made was when Gorn performed some kind of druidic spell, seemingly to no positive effect. Most expected an explanation, but he said nothing, and the trek continued.

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OOC:

Now is a good time to mention some things. Firstly, the posts will go pretty fast during the 'travelling' phases (and I should say this now, there will be quite a bit of travelling in Stradia). Some character development posts would get some MAJOR kudos from all (me, your fellow posters, maybe even passing readers). Things about your past, your family, your friends, your reflection of their possible fates and battles. You know, the gooey stuff.

Secondly, minor characters. I've spoken lightly about the subject so far, but it's all been directed towards Nathano and Death_Dealer since they were the only posters with minor characters. Here is a little bit on how I'd like them to work so as to keep balance in the roleplay:

a) Every poster can have up to two minor characters related to their main character (family, friend, whatever) with mentionable statistics.
b) The cap for statistics on each minor character is II. (II Melee, or II Ranged, or I Ranged I Elementalism, whatever)
c) After those two, you may have as many minor characters as you want (more family, more friends, more whatever), but they will be counted as 'commoners' with no skills worth mentioning. If they have skills, I'll be the judge of them.
d) You can control these minor characters however you'd like to, just as you would your main character. They shouldn't be your focus, though.
e) Minor characters are fully expendable. I reserve the right to kill them off or make them go away whenever I want. I won't do so maliciously, only to drive the plot.

Any questions, you can post them in the OOC side of your post, or send me a PM. If you have an interesting idea for a minor character that cannot be so easily transferred to Stradia's makeshift skill system, contact me and we can work something out.

Edit - Ah, and I forgot to mention one last thing. The point of the guidelines up above is so the other roleplayers know what Jim and Rini, for instance, are capable of. If you have relevant minor characters right now, a quick OOC tag and their name, appearance, BRIEF relation to main character, and skills would be good. Nathano, you've probably done that already, but a refresher would be good.

Despite Amelia’s best efforts, Durin’s axe weighed heavily in its back holster. However, this was not a matter of physical fatigue. It was the dreary thoughts swarming about the dwarf’s mind which caused his feet to drag.

Until recently Durin had been too busy to give any real thought to the loss of his village. He could not be certain that his parents had been among the survivors who left Gole. Even if they had made it to Wistria, there were no signs the town had even had time to evacuate.

Gorn continued to lead the party south towards Midgaard. Durin continued along, a few feet to the right of the elf. The dwarf was thankful to be walking well ahead of his companions as his worries were etched across his face.

---

“What are we going to do!? Run forever!? I’ve already lost my family, my house, and my livelihood to those damn Venurians! Why don’t we stand and fight!?”
“It’s hopeless you fool! Did you see their numbers!?”
“Fool, am I!?” the angered villager cried as he swung a garden hoe he had been using as a walking stick at the other speaker. Just barely avoiding the blow, the unarmed man leapt and tackled the other villager to the ground.

“Break it up ye filthy maggots. If ye have the energy to fight each other, then ye have the energy to walk. Now get up and move, yer blockin’ the sensible people,” an old dwarf spoke as he peeled the two combatants apart.

“Shuddap you bearded midget!” the man bearing the hoe called out, thrusting his weapon to strike the dwarf. Calmly the dwarf sidestepped the strike and gripped the wood of the hoe. When the man had completed extension of the weapon, the dwarf forced the butt end back into the villager’s chest with a solid thud.

“Ye plan to fight off the Venurians like that? Before ye swing a weapon, ye should have an idea of how to do it.” The dwarf helped the man to his feet. It was clear he had been cowed in this little quarrel.

Not surprisingly, this commotion had drawn quite the crowd. As the man made it to his feet, Jim and Rini had forced their way to the front.

“Excuse me, old dwarf, but perhaps you could explain who you are and perhaps why I did not see your face when we were holding against the Venurians in Wistria?” they questioned with a pang of anger behind each word.

“I am Tonrel, one of the two blacksmiths hailing from Gole. Now I’ll ask ye a question: Did ye not feel the change in the air before the Venurians arrived?” Tonrel responded, returning the anger they had offered him. “I assure ye that I did, and began the preparations to evacuate the town long before the enemy made their presence known.”
“Ye – You knew they were coming?” Rini questioned.

“Aye, I’ve seen more battles then ye’re likely to before age claims ye.” Tonrel replied. “After all those years, it’s kind of become like a sixth sense to me.”

“But I saw how you dealt with the villager who struck at you. You can still fight. It is clear that you could have been a great help to us at the front lines.” Jim accused the dwarf.

Tonrel smiled, “I’m glad ye have such confidence in these agin’ bones lad, but me best fightin’ days are long gone. That’s why I traded in me blood-stained axe fer a blacksmiths hammer. I guarantee things would have ended differently had it not been a simple farmer and his hoe. If it comes down to it, I won’t be goin’ down without a fight… but fer now me experience and ability to command will serve ye best.”

“Tonrel ye oaf!! He was a simple farmer!!” an old female dwarf called as she parted the crowd and approached Tonrel.

“He started it ye brilliant hag!” Tonrel replied facing the female dwarf. Turning to Jim and Rini he explained, “Ah this is me wife, Daelina.” To which Daelina simply tipped her head.

Rini paused for a moment, “… don’t you think you were a little too rough with that farmer?” he questioned, after seeing the other villagers supporting the farmer as he walked.

“It was self defense… he calmed down after that didn’t he?” Tonrel answered before mumbling beneath his breath, “Bearded midget me arse”.

---

OOC: +1 melee for Durin, putting him at Melee: V
Also, I would like to apologize for my extended absence from the world of Stradia.

Now for the NPCs:
Name: Tonrel
Connection to Durin: Tonrel is Durin’s father. He is the man who taught Durin how to fight. Durin is mostly unaware of Tonrel’s battle experience as he was born long after Tonrel settled down and began blacksmithing.
Appearance: Rough, pockmarked face with visible scaring. A bulbous nose, much like Durin’s. Black frizzled hair down ¾ of the dwarf’s back with a beard measuring to the same point in front.
Skills: Physical - Melee: II
Special: Battle Experience (cleared with Azi for when it’s used and what it can do)

Name: Daelina
Connection to Durin: Daelina is Durin’s mother. She was a simple housewife to Tonrel, cooking, cleaning, and looking after Durin.
Appearance: Red hair matching the length of Tonrel’s. However, it is much better maintained, and as such it is almost without frizzing. Chubby faced and a well endowed chest, she is stunning by dwarven standards. She is exactly 50 years younger than her husband Tonrel.
Skills: none

Riding up, Jacen let out another yawn. "If your all finished having your nice little chat, we should keep moving." Returning to the rear, he stifled another yawn. Even after the rest he has gotten, he was still exausted. Slumped over in his saddle, he saw Alanda move beside him.

"You are not looking well. Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked with a worried look on her face. "I'm fine. It will just take some time, but I will be OK. I used a lot of magic back there and I'm just really tired." he said with another yawn.

---

Minor character:

Name:Alanda
Relationship: Alanda and Jacen are in love
Appearance:slender young elf(around Jacen's age); long, golden, hair; green eyes; extremely beautiful by both human and elven standards.
Skills:magic-healing:II

Jim and Rini were leading the refugees at full speed again. On the seventh day, a rear scout had spotted gargoyles to the northwest. On the ninth, several spotted gargoyles to the north and northwest. That, plus a rather edgy Tonrel muttering words of caution was enough to push everything to the limit. Unfortunately, everyone was suffering because of it. The stronger men and women were already carrying and supporting the children and elderly who couldn't keep up. Soon even those would be dragged down into fatigue, and all of the wagons and horses were being used to carry the weakest.

In the evening of the eleventh day, the scouts spotted dozens of gargoyles moving parallel with the refugees to the east and west. They knew what was happening. They were being hunted, taunted, and they would confront their hunters soon.

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Gorn and the party were moving quite fast, but some of their days were hampered by lack of food and water. They spent a good part of an entire day foraging and hunting, and due to the skills of the party, managed to collect enough berries, meat, and fresh water for the rest of the journey if they rationed properly.

Nothing eventful occurred until the night of the tenth day, when Durin reported that he could smell some foul in the air. After some investigation, it turns out there was a foul smell in the air, somewhere west of their direction. Weapons drawn, they took a small detour and came upon six freshly slain gargoyles. Aside from the lethal injuries, which appeared to be bites, the corpses were untouched. The weapons and hunting equipment of the deceased was still nearby what looked like a small battlefield.

Raenor and Gorn agreed that the gargoyles were not killed by weapons, nor by any kind of magic they had heard of. One of their last options were wild animals, but that seemed too far-fetched. What wild animals attack, kill, and do not eat a fully armed group of 8 foot tall, flight-capable beasts? The injuries said otherwise, but after over an hour of searching not a single track could be found.

They gave up on figuring out a cause, and instead continued towards Midgaard with their weapons loosened in their sheathes. They didn't know who killed the gargoyles, but they did know gargoyles were lurking around. On the eleventh day, an elegant-looking falcon swooped down out of the clear, blue sky and perched itself on Gorn's arm rather abruptly. Even more strange, Gorn seemed to converse with the bird for sometime. The two came to an 'agreement' and the falcon took off into the sky and flew westward.

"What the bloody...?"
"I need to get me one of those!"
"Elder, could ye explain what...?"
"Your bird? I didn't know you had..."

"Calm down, friends. The falcon is a friend of mine, he has been acting as a scout for me since the battle at Gole. I'm afraid there is good and bad news...The Venurian horde is on the move, and the one that attacked Wistria is but a sizeable chunk of it. This is an invasion of epic proportions, friends. Armies of trolls of gargoyles have seized all of the northern towns and villages, most of them have been completely razed." He paused, his face cold as stone. "There is some fortunate news for us. Midgaard has been warned, and Kenshuria's armies in the south are mobilised at Moresse, Silverport, and Midgaard. We must make haste to Midgaard now, I must speak with the Lord and we must prepare ourselves for the coming darkness." He lightened up a bit as he spoke, then turned and continued walking south at increased speed. Everyone followed. Amelia cast another mass-rejuvenation spell so they could move through the night.

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The hall was carved from smooth marble and stone with statues and monuments of unknown figures decorated to fit a king of kings. At the south end of the hall was a roaring fireplace large enough for several grown men to walk into. It made the flame within look more like a bonfire. A long, intricately decorated oak table and matching chairs stretched through three-quarters of the hall. At the north end twelve foot high double-arched doors permitted entrance and exit in and out of the hall.

The southernmost end of the table had the only differing chair, one which was cast in shadow from the gigantic fire not far behind it. A figure sat in the chair, apparently male, wearing robes to match the shadows. The face was mostly concealed, but it was obvious how thin, sickly, and pale he would be in better light.

There were other figures sitting in the other chairs along the table, equally bathed in shadows, but not from the light cast by the fireplace. The entire room was being suffocated in darkness, even the fire was struggling to survive. There were voices as well, voices of the figures at the table.

"...enough Natalina...Go...fleet must set...Silverport...Midgaard." One of them said; the voice was deep and slightly chilling. Almost...magical.

"Aye...Natalina...pay." A gruff male voice responded to the broken sentence with an equally broken reply.

"Enough!" The deep voice said, and the room collapsed into complete darkness.

Day Twelve

Gorn, Durin, Elmric, Raenor, Darren, Aieris, and Amelia all shuddered into consciousness in the early dawn light. The cold sweat was the first thing they noticed, before total confusion hit them all. They all stared at each other in complete silence, and looking into their eyes they knew. They knew they all experienced the same vision.

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Less than twenty miles away, Jim, Rini, Jacen, Alanda, Tonrel, Daelina, and nearly a hundred other random refugees woke up to the same bewilderment. Minor chaos ensued, which quickly died down as Rini and some guards forced control back into the camp.

"You all witnessed it?" Raenor asked as the party gazed wide-eyed at each other. It was impossible to say how they had all instinctively known the experience of the others, but Raenor felt the answer lurking somewhere in the corner of his mind.

"If ye're speakin' of that strange dream of tha large hall and cloaked figures, then aye. Aye I saw it," Durin shuddered almost involuntarily. "I'd nay want this repeated, but tha whole thing's left me a wee bit on edge."

"On edge is probably an understatement master dwarf," Gorn said in his soft, grave voice. "There was incredibly powerful magic at work last night, and I find myself wondering if we were accidental parties to the conversation. Whatever was being discussed was likely not for us to know."

"Well what the bloody hell are we going to do about it?" Aieris demanded. "Last time I looked, you can't shoot or stab a dream. We're awake now; it's over. We should move on. We must be getting close to Midgaard."

"I would not counsel putting aside these things quite so quickly," Elmric said. "My experiences at the temple have...disturbed me a great deal, but I continue to trust in Avelia and her wisdom. I think we were meant to see these things. The purpose a vision like this would serve is far beyond my comprehension, but perhaps over time all this will begin to make more sense. Can any of you recall anything specific about the dream?"

"Only that I felt suffocated by darkness," Darren said. "The words nearly escaped me, so intent was I on holding the shadows away from my spirit."

"I felt the darkness too," Amelia said. "It was...it was like the chill touch of death." she shivered and stepped a little closer to Elder Altreas, as if to reassure herself by his strong life force that she was indeed free of the nightmare.

"Places and a name," Raenor said after pondering what he had experienced. "I felt the darkness, but it did not seem overly concerned with me. Those two places though: Midgaard and Silverport. They are two of the sites where the elder said the Kenshurian armies are gathering in preparation for the war with the Venurians. The name spoken also stayed with me: Natalina. I do not know who Natalina is, but the name seems seared into my mind. I do not think I will forget it."

"Ships," Durin said as the group began walking. "There were ships mentioned...a fleet of some kind...'twas all passin' strange." he fell into a heavy silence.

"I felt the weight of time," Elmric murmured. "The place was heavy with history, though it was hidden. Whoever was speaking is part of an ancient and powerful cabal. I only hope that Avelia shows us these things so we may accomplish some good end."

"Time, ships, places, names, death and darkness" Aieris shook her head. "It will serve us no useful purpose to stand here and natter on like old women when we don't know what we are talking about. We must focus on reaching Midgaard."

"While the speculation is interesting and helpful, I find myself in agreement with Aieris," Gorn said. "We must make haste. I fear that what we are facing is far stronger than we first realized."

The party's trek from dawn until mid-morning was strangely silent. Since the discovery of the slain gargoyles, their vigilance had been doubled, but this morning, for the first time in nearly a fortnight, Raenor and the others walked with naked steel in their hands, as if they anticipated an attack to come on the heels of the disturbing vision. The most peculiar thing which they had discovered after their brief rest and rejuvenation, had been that they had not all been asleep when taken into the vision.

"I was standin' watch with Elmric when I felt like I was pulled t'a different place altogether," Durin said. "I was watchin' the plains wit' me own two eyes, and then suddenly I was watchin' a bunch o' strange men cloaked in shadows talkin' about ships and things."

"It was the same for me," Elmric said. "I was no more than ten feet from Durin when the same thing happened to me. There wasn't even the slightest hint of a change. One moment I was standing on the plains, watching for gargoyles, and the next thing I knew, I was in an ancient hall."

Something in the conversation jogged Raenor's memory of the vision. "Did you sense the presence of others while you watched the conversation?"

"Now that ye mention it," Durin stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I did feel tha presence of other...watchers, I guess ye could call 'em. 'Twas like I was seein' them almost from the corner of me eye, but I could never quite catch a full glimpse of them. It did feel like I was close by me companions though."

"The same is true for me," Raenor said. "I was wondering why I realized you had all shared the same vision."

"We have tarried long enough," Elmric said. "Hopefully we will be nearing the outlying areas surrounding Midgaard soon."

"I would not be particularly surprised if we were challenged by one of the mounted companies," Raenor said. "They would undoubtedly be hunting for enemy raiding parties and war bands. Their circuit generally takes them back and forth along the outskirts of Midgaard's sphere of influence, if for no other reason than to keep in practice. However, since this is a time of war, and the threat is from the north, they will be concentrating their sweeps on the northern plains."

"You seem to know a fair bit about the habits of the Kenshurian armies," Darren said, looking at Raenor strangely. "You are more than you seem, ranger."

"I am more than a simple woodsman and ranger," Raenor agreed. "However, that story can wait. Once we reach the city, though, I will need to stop by my family's home to pick up my most faithful friends in Midgaard."

"Who would they be?" Amelia asked, her eyes wide with curiosity. From the corner of his eye, Raenor saw Darren pout and Aieris cough back a laugh.

"My hawk and hound," Raenor answered with a smile. "I wouldn't be much of a ranger without them."

"Why didn't you have them at Gole and the temple?" Amelia asked.

"I was returning to Midgaard to retrieve them when the call for volunteers came...I didn't have time to ride back and pick them up. I hope they haven't proved to be too much trouble for my father and his...aides."

"Are they that dangerous?"

"Just...spirited..."

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OOC: The post was definitely longer than I expected it to be. It seems that once I start writing dialogue, I tend to get a little carried away. I tried not to step on any toes in the discussion of the night's vision, but I thought it would be interesting to have certain things stick out more in the mind of one character than in the mind of another. There are certainly many more things to be mentioned, and I didn't go into much detail about some of the other events which have occurred on the journey.

The hawk and hound have yet to be named or created, since I need to coordinate with Azisien on their specific skill sets. They will likely be defined once we reach Midgaard and Raenor is given an opportunity to return to his home (which I suspect will likely be at the beginning of Chapter 3).

OOC: Of course the Paladin is going to remember the history though....we had to study enough of it!

IC: Elmric and the others began trekking again shortly after their morning meal. The night's dream still shook all of them, but they stayed reserved and quiet, pondering in their mind why they saw it. The trees were beginning to be less seen, though Elmric wasn't sure if this was because of lumbering or naturally occuring. To make the trek a little easier, Elmric began slowly whistling a sad, whistful tune.

"Would you stop that Elmric? This is no time to be whistling! Especially not something so...sad sounding!" Durin said, but to him Elmric merely replied, "Wait and see, Durin, wait and see."

Elmric carried on with his tune for five more minutes after the conversation, each person in the group wondering what exactly Elmric was thinking. At the end of the song, each person discovered that they felt much less tired, and the walking seemed a little easier. Then they grew slightly bewildered as they found out they were floating! Really floating!

"I do not like this. That was no ordinary dream." Looking at the others, Jacen let out a sigh. "I fear that what we have seen so far is naught compared to what is to come. There is a shadow ready to spread across this land and a tide of blood will ride before it. We must make haste, more then ever now to reach Midgaard."

Looking at Jim and Rini with great sorrow in her eyes, Alanda spoke up, "I agree with Jacen. My heart still feels shadowed. Something is coming and it will bring about an end. We need to get these villagers to somewhere safe."

"As much as I hate to try and push these villagers any harder, I have to agree. We need the relative safety of those walls." Jim said solemnly.

"But we will personally carry some of the children to make the burden easier on them..they do not deserve to be pushed past their limits." Rini mentioned with a misty look to his eye.

Jim and Rini looked at each other and nodded, still hoping and praying that Elmric was still safe and hopefully approaching Midgaard as well.

The following six hours didn't just lift their bodies, it seemed to lift their spirits too. Even in a group of adults, a sort of childish glee filled their hearts as they floated two, three, and sometimes even four feet off the ground. "Walking" required little to no effort, the spell had made it so that they could "grip" the air and push along on it. As they would on the ground, the party would lose balance if they tried to fly off entirely or swim, but a normal walking motion seemed to work just fine.

The only hero without a grin on his face was Elmric. Most shrugged it off as discipline, but several could tell he was concealing the strain from casting such a remarkable protective spell on half a dozen people. Sometime during the floating trek, Gorn came up beside the paladin and whispered, "Are you all right, friend?"

Elmric replied with normal volume, "I am fine, Elder. Healing magic is a difficult trade, but I have been trained to separate mental fatigue and physical fatigue. It is a required skill for all paladins. I will be fine again when we rest, but first we must reach Midgaard." Gorn nodded comprehension and moved back to the front of the marching order.

As the spell weakened over time, they found it became harder to keep a "grip" and they could no longer float as high off the ground. In the last hour, they were already walking on the ground again for the most part, kicking off lightly with each step and floating for a moment. The spell was completely gone as evening arrived, and with it left the morale boost. Thanks to the spell, they covered a lot of extra ground, but as time dragged on afterwards dark thoughts re-emerged in their minds.

"Gargoyles!" Aieris half-shouted; everyone immediately snapped out of their trances. A dozen of them, lightly armoured for fast movement and wielding long hunting spears, suddenly charging up on the party's flank. They reached a peak on one of the light slopes and took off high into the air. It was then most of them noticed the slightly larger wings compared to the gargoyles they had fought in Gole and at the temple.

Whatever it meant, the wings helped them a great deal. If the gargoyles that performed the aerial charge in Gole were sub-ordinate, then these would be experts. They closed the hundreds of feet in seconds, angling their mighty polearms for the skewering kills to come.

Gorn pointed his open hands at the lead flyer and shouted a one-word evocation, totally incomprehensible to those around him. Almost instantaneously, the gargoyle was hit by an unseen force. It lost all control and spiralled downwards for thirty feet and smashed into the ground, motionless.

The others didn't even break their formation, they came up overhead and swooped down.

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The refugees were all running as fast as they could south. Three dozen gargoyles sprang up from the north, east, and west, intent on pinching off part of the group and stranding them. Thanks to Jim, Rini, Jacen, fifty-two guards, and this time even Tonrel, the gargoyles weren't able to touch any of the villagers. They had found some prey nonetheless, even if it was armed.


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OOC:

Two-pronged fight to conclude Chapter 2. Those with minor characters in group two, controlling them is optional (but fun?:)).

Group One - Gorn and Company

(11) Gargoyle Hunters: Melee III/Ranged II (Throwing Spears)

Group Two - Jim, Rini, Jacen,etc (Don't forget, all of you have horses)

(36) Gargoyle Hunters: Melee III/Ranged II

Good luck, don't drag the fight on for too many posts, it should be over before the 100th post. Therefore, it would be better to take your time and make lengthy sequences instead of one paragraph posts.

Elmric whipped out his spear, eager to get this fight over with quickly because his weariness was beginning to catch up with him a bit more. One of the Gargoyle hunters swooped down at Elmric, but he quickly sidestepped and returned the blow with a spear thrust into the neck. "This won't be so bad, just keep your guard up and...." Elmric was cut off by two spears zooming towards him. He jumped back and narrowed avoided both, but he still had a dent in his arm plate where the shaft of one of the spears struck him. "Nevermind. Just keep your guard up!"

-------------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, and such.
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Jim and Rini let out a collective "Damn" at the sight of all of these..hunters. Rini pulled out his bow, and started his horse into a circling gallop. Rini had done a little bit of horseback archery during his hunts, so he was used to the rise and fall of the horse. Rini fired off an arrow at a diving Gargoyle and caught him in the eye. The gargoyle fell to the ground and Jim stabbed him in the throat, ending his foul life.

"Men! Defend yourselves!"

"Ranger!" Raenor had drawn his bow and was nocking an arrow when Darren's cry caught his attention. He looked over, and was surprised to see the warrior running full-tilt towards him. "I require your aid! Crouch with your back to me!" Raenor didn't have time to ask why, as a gargoyle swooped in. He rolled away from the spear thrust and came up into a crouched position, his back to Darren.

"Now don't move!" Darren did not break his running stride as he stepped lightly onto Raenor's shoulder and launched himself into the air. He began a graceful arc through the air, gaining a surprising amount of height. As he arced gracefully through the air, two swooping gargoyles engaged him. Darren heard their screams and smiled as they closed. This would be a challenge.

Readying their polearms, the gargoyles fell upon him. The foremost gargoyle was the first to strike. Darren twisted in mid-air, contorting his body to avoid the deadly spear thrust, his sword already flickering out in answer. The blade struck the gargoyle four times in the chest and neck, and the beast dropped heavily towards the ground. By this time Darren was nearly on the ground, and the second gargoyle was already attacking. With a mixture of skill and luck, he avoided a wild halberd swing which would have cut him in two. As it was, the weapon found only thin air.

Darren landed on his back. As he touched the ground he translated his momentum into a series of wildly weaving somersaults, which he hoped would bewilder the attacking gargoyle. As he rolled to a stop, the gargoyle landed and charged, but mid-stride it staggered as an arrow struck it. It continued, but a moment later it began to fall as another arrow struck it. As it fell, Darren raised his sword and caught the beast through the heart.

"Well done!" Darren called out to the unseen archer as he lay trapped beneath several hundred pounds of dead gargoyle. "Now could you get me out of here?"

Raenor had obeyed Darren's instructions, and had been quite impressed with his acrobatic attacks in mid-air. He was entirely certain that the first gargoyle had not been expecting to lose an aerial combat to a creature with no wings. Watching, Raenor saw the second gargoyle pressing home it's attack, so he raised his bow, aimed carefully, and fired. The first arrow struck the gargoyle in the left shoulder, which is what had sent it lurching off-balance. His second arrow had taken it in the right thigh, and the massive beast had begun toppling down atop Darren, who could be clearly seen raising his sword to end the creature.

Beginning to move towards Darren, Raenor drew his sword. The gargoyles were wheeling and diving across the battlefield, seeking to avoid getting tangled up in melee combat on the ground. Durin's bellowing cry could be heard echoing across the field as he traded blows with two diving gargoyles, and Elmric and Aieris were both busy with their own attackers.

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OOC: 8 gargoyles left.

Having targets in the air made things much easier for Aieris. Or it would have had she not been exhausted. As it was, she waited, bow drawn and an arrow held at the ready, while the gargoyles circled overhead.

All of a sudden, two of the hulking beasts seperated from the swirling mass and charged at her, spears held low, wings plastered against their backs in an effort to gain more speed. Side by side the flew at her, the larger of the pair outdistancing the other, until midway through its descent it found a flaming arrow occupying the space its left eye had previously taken up. Screaming in agony, its wings flared, and its descent slowed.

But the other gargoyle kept up its charge, and Aieris had no time to draw another arrow. Dropping her bow and scrambling for her dagger, she knew as the creature landed in front of her that there was not much she could do against its size, speed, and strength.

Slowly she backed away as a wicked smile split its mouth, and it moved towards her, licking the sharpened ends of its spear, as if in anticipation of the taste of blood that would soon decorate it.

Then, without warning, the gargoyle from earlier, blinded by pain and fire, careened into the one threatening Aieris, its spear going through its unaware companion's heart.

As they died, the momentum of the now burnt gargoyle carried them into Aieris, and she was covered, and darkness closed in.

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OOC +1 to fire, so 2 fire, 3 ranged.

Aerial death, that was the thought of many young men in the moments before the first and largest dive. Thirty-five gargoyles dove down at the defenders, Jim, Rini, Jacen, and Tonrel among them. Thirty returned from the dive, over half of them with blood splattered weapons and armour. Over the screams of chaotic orders and dying men, the elderly dwarf was barking commands he hadn't used for over a century.

"Pick a target and stick with it! They be mighty creatures, don't crowd togetha' but dunnae be spacing apart too much!" Tonrel shouted as loudly as his old throat would allow. Whether by luck or by his orders, the second dive was not as successful. Thirty gargoyles dove, and twenty returned. It was not entirely unsuccessful either, six more guards died in the assault. The gargoyles realised the use of aerial attacks had worn out and landed on the ground, each picking their own targets skillfully and professionally.

"Defend yourseeeeelvvvesss!" Rini shouted, the command stretched slightly as he galloped by on his horse, firing arrows at a nearby hunter. Tonrel found himself face to face with one of the hulking beasts, and it was a bad time to discover how rusty he had become compared to the old days. The gargoyle swung its polearm, hoping for a quick decapitation. The stunty height of the dwarves was a blessed trait at such a time, a quick duck and Tonrel was six inches under the blow. But try as he might, the old blacksmith was unable to close the six feet of distance between the attacking polearm and its wielder.

Jim and Rini worked in practiced unison. Without it, they probably wouldn't fare terribly well, but together, they could overwhelm the hunters one by one. They followed a similar pattern, Rini firing arrows into the beast to injure and distract it just as Jim would run up its flank and land a single lethal blow. The strategy worked well until two gargoyles decided to attack them in unison. The first gargoyle was hit by two of Rini's flaming arrows. Grunting, it shrugged them off and evaded Jim's attack from the rear. Unable to turn the horse fast enough, Jim found himself heading straight for the second hunter. He did the only thing he could do, he tossed himself off and fell to the sounds of a horse dying.

Jacen stuck with basic spells and teamed up with guards in melee combat when he could. Against these foes, he would be killed swiftly and easily one on one. His best chance of survival was to hit them before they got to him. He joined a group of four guards that had been faring quite well, whipping his staff back and forth, occasionally meeting its target. Together, the five of them took down three gargoyles in a row before suffering casualties. A fourth gargoyle ran up and sent one sprawling backwards with a five-hundred-pound bash, then proceeded to cleave a second in two pieces. A third guard started vomitting at the sight. As the hunter set its dark, wicked eyes on Jacen and started charging towards him, he realised he had ran out of options.

The cry was heard all over the battlefield. The gargoyle burst into magical fires more potent and painful than anything you could produce naturally. The flames licked at skin, flesh, and hair, devouring them greedily and spitting out ash. A charred humanoid form collapsed to the ground in a smoking heap as the flames receded back into Jacen's hands.

Then the cry resonated. Sixteen gargoyles took off immediately, shrieking and screaming at the young elven magician. They flew north without a second thought, the screams still continuing.

Elmric brought his shield up quickly to block a vicious blow and was sent back a step, then circled swiftly and thrust his spear through the gargoyles back with a sickening crunch and almost ethereal wail. "Another down! Let's keep this momentum rolling!" Just as Elmric finished, A gargoyle dove down, aiming for Elmric's head, but instead only caught air. "You'll have to do better than that! Fools."


Edit: Fixed a part that I didn't read thoroughly enough the first pass.

"Master ranger!" Darren looked relieved to see Raenor walking towards him, sword at the ready. "So good you could help me out of this predicament."

As Raenor neared Darren, he whirled suddenly. An instant later, he was being gripped at the shoulders by a screaming gargoyle. The two flew several feet and then fell heavily to the ground, with Raenor's sword rattling out of his hand. At that moment, a deadly unarmed struggle began. Darren watched helplessly as the two fought, wishing he could be in Raenor's place. As he watched, he sensed another presence near him. Snapping his attention back to the immediate area, he saw a gargoyle looming over him, polearm at the ready. Darren waited for death to claim him as the gargoyle stabbed downwards.

It was much to his surprise that he did not die from the polearm. In fact, it took him a moment to realize that he was still quite whole. The spear had been embedded in the ground next to him. Darren could see the vicious smile on the gargoyle's face, and he understood why the spear stood next to him. The gargoyle wanted to rip out his throat with his claws. As the gargoyle leaned over the corpse of its comrade and brought its' leering face near Darren, he reached up and calmly snapped its neck. He almost immediately regretted that decision, as the second corpse slumped atop him, pinning him even more thoroughly.

"So it's going to be one of those days!" he screamed to no one in particular as he flailed helplessly under a pressing weight of gargoyle flesh.

About thirty feet away, Raenor was lying breathless and bruised atop the slain gargoyle. The fight had been a vicious and prolonged one, each of the combatants reaching for Raenor's dropped sword. It had taken several savage blows, but Raenor had eventually stunned the gargoyle enough to allow him to retrieve the sword, leverage the gargoyle onto its back, and run it through. The gargoyle was still shuddering violently in death, its bloodied hands gripping the sword blade passing through its chest. As Raenor wrenched the sword free, he heard a triumphant cry and saw Elmric slay another of the creatures with a strong blow from his shield, followed by a quick sharp thrust from his spear. The gargoyle, already staggered from the shield blow, let out a gurgling cry and sagged forward against the sturdy weapon, finally toppling forward into the grass as the paladin wrenched the weapon free.

Further away, Durin was laughing triumphantly as he hacked the legs out from under one of the gargoyles. As it fell screaming, his return strike removed the beast's head, leaving Durin standing face to face with the sole surviving gargoyle. The creature stepped hastily back from the blood-drenched and battle-hungry Dwarf. A safe distance (or so it reckoned), it turned its back, and took to the air. Durin shouted something incomprehensible as he hurled his axe at the now airborne creature. As it began to gain height, the gargoyle screamed and crashed to the ground, a rather large battleaxe having ripped through its armour and spine.

The companions stopped and waited as the last sounds of their battle died away, as if they anticipated a new and greater threat to manifest itself. After a moment of quiet, Raenor sheathed his blade and moved towards the trapped Darren. "Elmric! Durin! We have a trapped companion to rescue."

"Two, actually," Elder Altreas said as he walked over. "Amelia just found Aieris lying underneath a rather badly burned gargoyle. She's alive, but unconscious."

"Ah," Raenor frowned. "Well I guess we'll have to split our efforts. Durin, could you help Aieris?" Durin nodded and moved off towards Amelia as Elmric and Raenor moved to the topmost gargoyle on the pile trapping Darren. They each grabbed a leg and began to pull. The gargoyle was soon lying near where it fell, and with a little help from Darren, the second one was quickly moved.

"You have my thanks," he said as he regained his feet and retrieved his sword. "Next time, I'll make it a point to not end up underneath the creature."

"A wise plan," Raenor said, noting the blood which had stained Darren's clothing. "You're going to have a hard time cleaning the stench off of your clothing."

Raenor laughed, and Elmric cracked a small smile as Darren began to swear and brush at his clothing, cursing the gargoyles for having blood.

Breathing heavily and in short gasps, sweat ran down Jacen's face in rivers. Taking a step forward, he began to collapse but Alanda ran over quickly and caught him. Supporting him, she lead him over to Jim and Rini. As they passed by the other defenders, they shrank back from him, fear showing in their eyes. They had known he was a skilled magician, but what had happened scarred them. Barely able to walk and stay conscious, they arrived in front of Jim and Rini. "We...need to...keep...moving." Jacen said between labored breaths.

(OOC: hope this is fine for you Azisien.You never said if I collapsed or if Jim or Rini were killed. I've just left myself on the edge of passing out.)

Gorn stood on a slight peak in the plains, looking down at the rest the rolling landscape. He was looking at Midgaard. It was still a good distance away, one of the few urban destinations in all of Kenshuria, protected by high walls and cleaved in half by a wide river. Right now, it was more like a little speck of difference from the monotonous terrain with a line stretching across the plains denoting the river. The farms were closer, they could already see some of the fields quite clearly.

Raenor, Darren, Durin, Gorn, Amelia started descending the little slope on their last evening of travel, hopefully for a while. Elmric came last, slightly hampered by fatigue from the battle, his platemail, and the unconscious elf slung over his shoulder. They walked for another two miles before Raenor announced that a small company of cavalry were headed in their direction at full speed.

Surely enough, there were nine men riding horses towards them. As both parties drew closer, Raenor also spotted the lookout tower now far behind the cavalry. He smiled weakly, partly because he was tired and partly because there was a lot on his mind, and acknowledged that the lookouts had a keen eye. The party didn't even cover another half mile before the riders reached them, only slowing down at the very last minute. They were clad in padded armor with chain shirts underneath. An emblem of Bahamut was displayed proudly on the barding of the horse.

"What brings you to these lands, travellers? Why do you not use the main roads?" The man who seemed to be the leader of the group asked sternly. He looked to be quite young and strong.

Gorn took a step forward. "We have come from the village of Gole, recently invaded by the Venurians a fortnight ago. There was no time to follow any road." The rider seemed to accept the answer, news of war would be weighing heavily on the hearts of all Kenshurians. The mass amounts of blood on these travellers were reason for caution, but their aside from that menacing tidbit, they did not seem to give off a malicious aura. Gorn introduced himself. "I am Gorn Altreas, the...former Elder of Gole. These are my friends, some former villagers of Gole, and others who answered the call to arms."

The elf introduced the party members one at a time. "This is Sir Elmric, a paladin of Avelia and blacksmith of Gole. He is carrying a lady elf local to Gole, her name is Aieris. She was knocked unconscious when we were attacked earlier. This is the resident mason of the village, Durin. A brave, young swordsman who came to Gole to aid in its defense, Darren. A priestess of Avelia. She served in the Temple within Gole Forest, Amelia. Finally, another man to answer Gole's call, a ranger by the name of Raenor Hunt."

The riders eased up during the introductions, some of them had been keeping their hands close to their weapons in the initial encounter. The leader of the scouts nodded as Gorn spoke, but the mention of Raenor got a response from all of them.

"A Hunt?" The leader said. Raenor nodded solemnly, and it was returned with newfound respect. "There would be very few in Midgaard who do not know the name." The rider was convinced, he knew none of them in any great detail, but the Altreas family also had a quiet fame throughout the lands, and seeing an elf with grey hair was enough. "We will take you to Midgaard. My name is Tomar Haus, apprentice knight serving under Lord Hebridean. Come, there is room on the horses."

They rode through the farm land at a quick pace, quite a bit less than the furious battle charge speeds they used to intercept the party. They stopped briefly at the lookout tower, where Tomar spoke with the other guards. The stop took no more than five minutes and they were back on the winding path that connected the tower to a larger road between farms. From there, the road continued east for two miles, where it met the largest road of all. The main road, which would lead them directly to the northern gate of Midgaard. Two of the riders in the company had taken flags with them from the tower, and as they approached the city, which now looked quite massive up close, they raised them high and proud to display the flag of Kenshuria. The flag, simply put, was a cross between the official emblems of Bahamut and Avelia used by their respective temples, as well as the symbol of an oak tree.

Wide stone walls well over twenty feet high shut the plains of Kenshuria out of Midgaard. The walls arched upwards to allow for a large wooden gate. As Gorn, his company, and the riders approached the gate, they could spot archers among the slits in the stone, and in the stone guard towers above. They stopped thirty feet from the gate, and after a minute's wait it creaked open, three guards armed and armored to the teeth exitted the town and walked up to the group.

"Tomar, what business do you have in Midgaard this day?" The front and center guard asked, eyeing those not dressed in Midgaard military attire.

"These are travellers and villagers of Kenshuria. Among them is Gorn Altreas," He pointed to Gorn on another horse. "I have been instructed to escort Elder Gorn and his company to my master, Lord Hebridean."

The lead guard nodded. "I will not question Lord Hebridean's orders, you may proceed." The guards stepped aside to allow the horses pass, and they all entered the city. City was not the word, Midgaard was a metropolis; one of two in all Kenshuria. It spanned as far as any of their eyes could see along the main roads, at least several miles in each direction. The battlements and defenses passed quickly behind them, and they entered residential areas. The occasional street merchant had set up a makeshift shop along the roadside, hoping to attract customers nearer to their home. As they continued along the main north-south promenade, they eventually passed the commoner housing and entered the marketplace. Giant bazaars and hundreds of citizens among them like bees buzzing around their hive. It was harder to navigate on horses, but most made room for the emblem of the Dragon God and its respective riders.

The marketplace turned out to be larger then Gole, but they eventually came to a second wall. Classist as it was, this would be the wall that separated the nobles from the commoners and some of the more administrative buildings from the free markets. The wall was not as tall as the outer one, and no archers patroled its perimeter, probably due to its lack of width compared to the outer wall. Tomar went through a similar process with guards at this smaller gate, but after a moment they were permitted entrance. Within the inner wall, the taller buildings of Midgaard popped up. Three, four, and five-storey guild halls, extravagant temples to Avelia and Bahamut, and gigantic barracks' that would train magicians, priests, and clerics, and store Midgaard's army.

It was not long before they came to a great intersection, the center of the city. A fountain sculpted from stone and decorated marble lay in the very center, depicting a full-sized dragon. The east-west promenade was disrupted by a large stone building, the city hall and Lord Hebridean's residence.

Tomar and the riders dismounted, Gorn and the others followed suit. Overly decorated guards performed another check with Tomar. They were clad in full plate mail and wielding six-foot long halberds; the emblem of Bahamut was branded and centered on the chest plate.

As they were about to enter the city hall, Raenor turned to Tomar and asked, "Have the refugees arrived?"

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Meanwhile, the refugees, Jim, Rini, Jacen, Tonrel, Alandra, Daelina, and the remaining guards had reached the Midgaard River. They could see Midgaard in the distance in the east, and it wouldn't be long before the scouts noticed well over a thousand people clumped into a small marching group approaching the city.

Jacen had been given a horse, since he was slightly tired after nearly vaporizing that gargoyle with a twist of his wrist. He now moved at the front of the group with Jim and Rini.

"Did your magic scare the gargoyles away?" Jim asked.

"That wouldn't make very much...hmph...sense." Jacen contorted uneasily, shrugging off more fatigue. "I used more powerful magic in Wistria, it didn't even hinder their charge."

"The guards are spooked, although equally grateful. What did you do?" Rini budded in.

"As magic goes, nothing out of the ordinary...I slew a gargoyle with elemental fire, it was a desperate reflex, nothing more." The elf explained.

"And the entire killing party retreated, screaming like idiots." Jim smiled a bit, it was a good thing after all.

"We would all probably be dead if they had not ran off like that. Whatever you did, you saved us." Rini added. Jacen nodded gratefully, it seemed like he was a hero this day. The group continued moving towards Midgaard, following the river. Several miles later, and they spotted a large company of riders originating from Midgaard's western gate. Along the way they had also received some strange looks from the people on boats and rafts passing by.

As the company of riders arrived, something stirred in Jacen. A feeling, something not unlike what he would feel when practicing his magic. But this feeling also carried emotion, and it nearly implored him to scan the area. The feeling was stronger to the south, across the river. It was strongest amidst the copses of trees along the far bank, where he could swear he saw a small grey wolf. It was gone, probably into the trees, and with it went the feeling. As Jim and Rini explained the situation to one hundred fully-armoured cavalry, and during the rest of the journey to the city, Jacen couldn't help but look back.

To the north, vicious storm clouds stirred from afar.