Harmony of Chaos; Chapter 6: They're here. (take two)
 

It was raining. It was fucking raining. Whatever high overlord of power that controlled the weather was a sick bastard. A REEEEEAL sick bastard. In fact, it wasn’t even a normal rain. It was practicaly a cold rain that seemed to mock them. The bland grey, and decidedly gothic walls of the dark elf city seemed black and brooding in the weather.


But seriously though. Elves stood waiting on the walls. Cirith flew overhead, Draich walked amongst the troops, and everyone was edgy. The Khahalan back-up hadn't arrived. They hadn't even been seen. Their entire city was empty, and there wasn't a sign of a single soul on the path from there to Naggaroth.

Oh, and it was raining. In the middle of the night. FROM ONE CLOUD. Granted one very large cloud

Kal wanted to kill something. At least, that was what he thought...right up until he saw the enemy army starting to approach. Then he was worried, even though they had a hundred ninjas with them. Apparently Thomas' father had gotten hold of the note and stopped all he could.

And to make matters worse...there wasn't really anything else. There was a giant army of all doom and death approaching, and they didn't have the option to run. Even worse, he was wearing a breastplate over his normal robes, which made a plinking sound with every rain drop.

AND IT WAS BLOODY RAINING!

Kal muttered under his breath, "This does happen in real life..." He could see his breath. Which explained why he felt cold.


The elves looked at the approaching army. It stopped. A slathered on mass of black, steel, stench, and steam. Balistas, seige ladders and towers, and trolls. Ogres, Orcs, goblins, and Trolls of all things. The Drow raised their Repeater Crossbows, making sure the packs were in. The High Elves drew their bows with a fluid and practiced motion, and set arrows to the strings.

Ahead of them, the various commanders roared, then fell silent. There was one very very specific figure that everyone could make out very clearly.

Red, crude, gore decorated armour. Heads of people were on his belt, his massive horse had matching armour and had sprouted horns, and his sword seemed to writhe with a golden energy. It was the same man that Kal had seen in his dream. Exact the very last detail.

It raised it's shimmering sword. The tension in the air shot up to insane levels. The sword pulsed, and two Por'Hui grew out, landed and scurried to opposite sides of the massive army.

Those that didn't have missile weapons on the walls drew their sword and various other weapons.

The herald of all evil looked over his gigantic assembled force, and roared. They could hear it on the walls.

With that, two things happened. One, the shadow on the ground moved forward, charging straight for the city, and Two, arrows fired. With missile weapons of elven craftsmanship, the distance was only a minor hindrance.

A chunk of the front row fell. Arrows were reloaded in the bows while the Repeater Crossbows had the bolt just drop down and shoot. The barrage kept up, firing madly.

But one thing was apparent. The enemy was closing.

The massed bow-fire held for a bit, striking down plenty of enemies before they could get ladders in place. Then the seige towers came up. The first to contact against the walls started to open, but practically flipped backwards as a huge burst of magic slammed into it. Kal brought his sword back into striking position. His sword was losing it’s brief shimmer, and the staff strapped to his back was losing its momentary blast of charge.

The second tower almost had more success. Successfully, it got to the ramparts. It also opened. However, the first row of warriors were gunned down in a hail of arrow fire. Then Cirith swooped by on his black dragon, and basically ripped it from the wall.

All over the walls, siege towers made almosts to the walls before they were gunned down. Then like a large black oil stain, the first Por’Hui pulled itself over the wall, seemingly uncaring. With lightning lashes, it grabbed two warriors at a time in its claws and tore them in half, draining souls with its tail. Then by the time the first arrow fired, it dodged it.

It quickly sucked the shooter dry. Howling, it turned and noted Cirith landed, his dragon roaring a challenge. The Por’Hui moved to attack…when a blast of seemingly pure light slammed into it from the side and Kal charged over.

The Por’Hui fell over the wall.

Out on the battlefield, the herald roared and another three Por’Hui grew out. The one that had gone over the wall crawled back over, and leapt at Kal. The wizard did well, gashing its face, which promptly healed, but the Por’Hui climbed up one of the towers faster than most could run, and effectively backflipped onto Kal. In a flash the tail came down, and Kal barely stopped it.

The tail gradually got closer…and closer…then there was an echoing bang, and a twang. The Por’Hui spasmed and fell to the side. Kal glanced and saw Vace and Kishan running down the stairs. Vace reloaded his gun, and shot the Por’Hui straight in the head. Kal stood, dived past the snapping pincer, and aimed for the tail. His sword flashed with lightning as it charged, and he cut the entire and whole tail off. Kishan jumped off a wall, and landed with a two-handed blow from the anti-magic scimitar that split the Por’Hui’s head clean in two.

Kal exhaled his thanks, and motioned for them to get to the most assaulted areas.

How's this?:

Darin quickly took in his surroundings, slashing his fat axe into an Ogre that had made it over the wall. He then swiftly smashed the pole of a ladder, sending it crashing down upon the enemies below him. The gharad smacked down one opponent after another, muttering his kill count to himself. "24...25...26...27..." Darin was in the middle of the fighting, and he watched as a lone Por'Hui scaled the wall and began slashing at the troops. With surprising manuverability, he rolled under the beast, dodging it's claws, and slammed his axe into it's underbelly. The Por'Hui then leaped over him, concentrating on killing and ignoring the axe embedded in it's chest. Darin unsheathed a smaller axe and attempted to cut off it's tail, but the beast smacked him down with ease, and then continued on. "Damn!" The dwarf cursed under his breath, and then followed the Por'Hui.

He'd been the only civilian looking person to stick around. The malifluous rain beaded off of Caird's cloak as the man inside it secured the hood and tightened his bracers. Then it started. Fear shot his pulse into overdrive, each splashing step heightening his alertness.
No
he thought, scaling a staircase leading up to the wall
I am a master of my clan
The sound of the approaching army growing from a hum to a roar
I bear my blade and self with the pride and skill of the fathers
he instinctively dodged aside of an oncoming arrow that arced over the wall
Where the darkness will rear up, I too shall be, this is my creed
and the herald came into view onthe field before them, shimmering blade spewing forth the abominations of nightmares
besides that, there's lots of ass to kick right now
-and he pulled the yexf from his back, its lightning enchantment flaring in the downpour, creating a cascading shell of discharges around the double bladed sword. The hair on his finger stood on end from it, and then...nothing. The fear banished, his heart controlled, adrenalaine entering his blood as he felt it necessary, muscles on the edge of flexing, their tone giving force and purpose to his every movement as he drove one end of the blade into an orc, pulling it from the beast in a one handed circling motion that brought the other end of the yexf cleanly through it, the head of another orc falling from its neck just behind him. A corpse of a Por'Hui lay to his right, its head cleft in two, tail raggedly spasming behind. Caird waded in, feet planting and shifting, barely touching the stone below as the blades shimmered in the rain, their power causing smoke to rise from the edges, as blood disintegrated, only to be replaced by that of another nameless creature, sliced up the middle, only a link in the Saodexan's chain of attacks, freely flowing into one and other as he dodged aside of heavy blows and danced around probing strikes. Then he paused, eyeing up a troll exiting a siege tower. He took a cut to the arm for his inattentiveness, but dispatched the goblin, and swiftly moved to the lumbering beast, which raised its great club at his approach, the enourmus blow cracking the hewn stone of the wall as Caird easily dodged aside, and awaited the next attack. The troll roared at his impudence in avoiding the attack, and executed a low sweep of his club, Caird timed himself, and moved slightly inside of the attackholding his blade before him as a priest with the cross, and backflipped, the swipe going under him, but prematurely raising up as Caird's sord sliced cleanly through the beast's wrist as he flipped. He didn't hesitate a moment in climbing the raging troll's rough kide as it roared in agony, clutching its amputated wrist, and hacked open its scalp before jumping, and flipping his body over for momentum, and jamming the blade into its brain. He pulled his yexf from the collapsing troll (King Arthur Style) and lightly landed on a knee, his left hand barely touching the ground, before he turned again to the fray...

Menthad crept in the shadows of the ramparts, as few as there may be. When there wasn't shadows, he made them himself with his cloak. He preferred the silent way of killing, the way that did not require strength or risking of one's life. Not that he didn't have strength, but he wasn't about to risk his life. His stealth came at a cost of a lack of heavy armor, and he was sure that a crack in the head or two would bring him down. He looked far, where a small creature slaughtered soldiers with reckless abandon, seemingly draining something out of them. Admiring the creature's size and dexterity with which it killed, his attention was brought to a wayward club swung by a ogre in blind rage. The hunt has started. Let us feast on blood today, my companions... Manthad smiled. His blades will feast much today. As he rolled aside, not making a noise to distract the ogre, he lept to a crouching position, bringing his twin scimitars up the ogre's hamstrings, severing them with one clean swipe. As the ogre roared, perhaps in pain, or perhaps in rage, he plunged the scimitars in the triceps, the biceps, and finally down the shoulder blades before the hulking and slow giant could turn around. The blades met the heart, and as the ogre fell, scrambling in its last throes, Manthad disarmed the ogre of its club and tossed the club at another wayward's ogre's face. He proceeded to, as the ogre was dealing with the dull crush in his face, plunge his scimitars into the lungs of the other ogre. Seeing a host of goblins that now noticed him, he danced through them, ignoring their raggety and clumsy movements, and taking advantage both of their crude weapons and their clumsiness. In several bouts, none of the goblins stood, some with their weapons wedged in their own faces. Fading back into the shadows, he awaited more opposition, his scimitars cleaning themselves of the blood that they had spilled, and his cloak and clothing doing likewise.

OOC: Note these are LOTR Trolls and the Ogres are like Troll sized humans. Just a lot uglier.

IC: Kal dispatched his opponent. Beside him Vace finished his opponent. Farther aside, Kishan backflipped over his foe, and stuck his scimitar through the goblin's heart.

There was a hissing heard from behind them. Vace started to reach for his gun, but Kal waved him off. They turned to see the Por'Hui.

Kal's sword started glowing, and he said, "Vace, Kishan, go. I need you two to get another Por'Hui."

Mentally, Kal added it up. After this and Vace's, there'd be another two left. Not what Kal hoped for.

Draich thundered up the steps next to Kal, his massive sword goated with blood, and his armour already scratched in countless places.

Behind the Por'Hui Cirith landed, and readied his lance.

***

Kishan was not happy. He was from a bloody DESERT COUNTRY, and used to small skirmishes, not a full scale siege. In front of him, a man heavily clothed in black robes rode atop a shield, being held by the biggest Orcs Kishan had ever seen.

Most likely a sorcerer. Kishan barely paused as he pulled his small axe, and threw it straight into the sorcerer's face. Then he pulled his second scimitar, and leapt to meet the combat.

OOC: *zap* LIVE! I would REALLY appreciate it if more people would post.

As Vace ran along the battlements, suddenly he heard a roar and spotted the thing he was after. Another of the Por''Hui was pulling itself on the battlements, sending both it's allies and enemies scrambling to get away to let it do it's work. Vace needed to do something fast to get it's attention, and quickly unslung his rifle and aimed, firing. It struck it's skull, only making it roar louder and turn in his direction. "Well, I was hoping it would do more then that..." Vace muttered, putting his gun away and drawing his sword as the Por'Hui bared down on him. He did the unexpected and leapt straight at it, delivering a hard blow to the skull, but the rock hard skull took the blow and repelled it, stunning the Por'Hui for a second. Vace then backed off again while it was stunned, taking the opportunity to run down some nearby stairs to get some range on this beast and to let him use his rifle instead of being in range of those ripping claws or piercing tail.

Darin groaned. All of his throwing axes were embedded in the Por'Hui's hide, and the gharad had been forced to pick up the mace dropped by a fallen ogre. He continued his pursuit of the Por'Hui, who now had about 24 arrows in it's head, 34 throwing axes and 67 arrows in it's back, not to mention the giant axe in it's chest, yet it was still alive and kicking. The beast soon turned around to face Darin, who smashed the mace into it's head and backed away into a corner, weaponless. The Por'Hui stood there, dazed for a split second and then collapsed to the ground finally dead. Darin rolled over the corpse and withdrew his bloody axe, ready for more fighting.

Menthad struck out again, seeing fit to go against two of the trolls that was beginning to bash on the castle walls from the top. Manualling opening the cartridge for his repeater crossbow and dipping the bolts in a stronger debilitating poison than the ones magically endowed on his scimitars, he proceeded to unload 2 to 3 bolts in each troll. They would barely feel the small wooden shaft with the poison due to their rough hides. He then lept from his position onto the upper back of one troll. Both of them realizing his prescence as his scimitars dug into the tough skin and the flesh underneath, he only proceeded to leap himself to the other troll as two clubs simutaneously smashed right into the first troll, bringing him down with the two holes which were leaking blood, and the poison that was slowly denying him movement. The second troll bade him to leap a little more in place to avoid the continuous club strikes, and he did, scoring a small cut at least on every time that he landed. By the time that the troll can no longer move, 52 cuts were made on the troll's back, and he fell again. He looked, and saw some warriors conflict with one of those black creatures, having the advantage. He fell into the shadows again, examining how such a thing can be beaten.

Darin was soon back in the heat of battle, slicing up orcs and ogres with his axe. He was soon faced by an ogre, and 22 orcs. Darin sliced off most of the orc's heads with ease, and then did something only a dwarven battlerager would do. He deftly rolled under an orc's legs and brought up his axe, slashing it in the back, and then slammed his axe into the ogre's gonads. The ogre was stunned for a second and then plunged off the wall, screaming in agony. Darin removed the axe and smacked two more orcs down, and he then noticed the six trolls towering above him, ready for a fight.

Menthad had seen enough from the two confrontations from what seemed to be the elite fighters and the little buggers. Turning, he saw a black-robed man, held by orcs, get an axe in its face, and the thrower of the axe then confronting at least two scores of orcs. Wanting to see how the defenders fought, he entered the melee, giving surprise by first jumping and unloading his crossbow downwards, each of the 8 bolts striking an orc. He landed in the midst of the rearguard, dispatching them with a roundabout attack to the legs of each while crouching. Rolling out of the rearguard, to be behind them, he began his attack.