"Shut up. Please. Just shut the hell up," Jerick said as he walked past the two, going to where he was needed. It wasn't long before he found the fortress' forge. He wasn't going to squabble with the others in the group, he was getting right to work. In fact, he was even getting stares from the other blacksmiths as he suddenly started making weapons. He didn't care, he was busy making weapons now and was off in his own little world, so nothing really mattered to him.

ooc-thank MLA if you don't like the latin in my post

ic-John looked down, but he still felt that a normal battle will not save the battlement

"cum magne agmen, est magnus cibus. sed tamen, vincabimus si expectamus ei amittare eorum volutás pugnare."

he then moved to get a larger view of the fields outside the battlement.

(OOC: Umm...thank me for what? Did I mention that we had a distinct lack of uneeded Latin somewhere?)

"Move aside gramps, let the guys who can actually do stuff do said stuff." Gug said, brushing aggresively against the geezer. He considered knocking him over, but he wasn't that mean.

"Oooh..." Gug awed at the lookouts. Already his beady little eyes were watering over with visions of firethrowers and cannons dancing in front of him.

translation:

"with large armies on the move, there must be large amount of food. But still, we will win if we wait for their willingness to fight waver. taking their food will quicken that."

--------------

john looked angerly at the goblin. he moved to the walls to see what to do.

we began to stick his arrows, head up, into the ground. they begin freese into a spear head.

OOC: HoP, this isn't a world where people speak Latin. Either way, I have no intention of blaming MLA for something you did, so fix it.

IC: "And then they'll start eating people, and eachother. There are plenty of small villages not too far from here, and if they're hungry the orcs will be able to find plenty of food" Hakar rolled his eyes, striding into the fortress and searching for the commanding officer.

Hakar found him with Gabriel, for as he learned it was Baron Arkhon.

"Ashtar sent only one thousand men to retake the fortress, and these are some of the worst trained soldiers I have seen in my life." the Baron confided under his breath. "And the ranking officers I recognize from the Imperial Court. None of them liked Ashtar all that much."

Gabriel eyed him suspiciously, "And what of you, Baron? How is it that you were put in command of such an ill suited force?"

Arkhon snorted. "I have my own little theory about that. I once held Ashtar's post, but that masked bastard set me up! He discraced me in the eyes of the King, and I was subsiquently demoted. Personally I think Ashtar never intended for us to retake the fortress."

"But you did." Gabriel said resolutely. "And we shall ensure that you keep it."

It was at that moment that loud racket caught their attention. They looked up to see that the sound was over ten thousand wings beating in unison, a cloud seemed to block out the sun, but as it lowered they could see what it was.

Lord Gwaethir and the Avariel had arrived.

OOC: when I use the term "Elemental" in this post, it refers to actual elementals....personifications of an element. Air elementals look like semi-visible swirling masses of air in the vague shape of humanoids...though it can change to whatever they desire.

IC: *starting earlier, ending with the arrival of the Avariel*

Gwaethir had been a warrior virtually his whole life. He had been born into a small but high-ranking family, swiftly advancing through the ranks of the military until he had met the king's daughter. The story from that point was, as they say, history.

The true and nigh-omnipotent spirits of the elements were gone, but 'lesser' creatures remained, creatures much less destructive. Swirling masses of air accompanied his troops, Air Elementals conjured up by the Avariel mages. Leading them was an elemental of incredible power, one that had dwelt in the throne room of the palace for centuries...one that had had a hand in Gwaethir's redemption.

As they flew, they sang...ironically, it was the same song Gwaethir had forced the air to sing as he passed doomed villages and cities trembling in fear. A song of war, a paeon of battle, a march commonly known as Hurricane Wrath, when translated from the Avariel language.

More than twenty thousand wings beat in unison, a single song on more than ten thousand pairs of lips.

Gwaethir's golden hair whipped in the wind, his ice blue eyes surveying the landscape ahead. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he felt rejuvenated by the prospect of battle against a worthy foe....and a chance to test out his magic once more.

Since the Elemental War, he and Jericho had studied the new way magic worked. Their powers had nearly reached the heights they had held during the War...though they weren't as wide-area or easy to cast. Partially, this was why Gwaethir was determined not to underestimate these foes...but outraged, for they could only have slain his friend through a cunning ambush, and with overwhelming numbers.

He saw Bastion up ahead, and grinned, the Avariel flew to war.

************************************************** *****************

Hakar shook his head in disbelief and faint disgust, "There's a war going on, and all Ashtar thinks about is politics? I pray that he isn't the only one in charge of our defenses..." he saw Gabriel turn, and looking up he noticed the approaching Avariel army.

He grinned slightly, looked upwards and said, "Thank you..." his hands clasped in a parody of the gesture many used when praying.

Alec dropped to his knees by the whole in the wall, and pushed his hands against the wall. This was not going to be fun. In the least. At best, he might be able to waddle during the seige.

He exhaled, begged the seeds' forgiveness for disrupting their life-cycles, then pushed his magic into them. The first saplings appeared out of the soil...

"So what does that make your record for brilliant battle strategies old man? 0 for 2? I guess I'm being generous, you might have made lots more useless plans before we came across your path." Gug cackled as he strode past the geezer's spear line. "So what were you hoping to do with those, hope the orcs...hope the...hope-" at that point Gug's head snapped back in a sudden motion and then rocketed forward with a huge sneeze following. A stream of fire flew out, melting all the spear heads down into cooled puddles.

"Ooops...sorry about that." Gug said, looking at the ground in an embarrased maner then running away, giggling under his breath.

In the eastmost sentry tower, a young soldier stood in awe as he gazed at the approaching Avariel. Yet in the back of his head, he seemed to hear what sounded like great drums beating in tune with the voices of the Winged Elves. As the Avariel got nearer, he noticed that other voices seemed to be arising as well, but in stark contrast to the rich and melodic song of the Windlord; the one he heard was harsh, gutteral, and gravely.

As the noise got louder, he realized that it was not eminating from within his own mind, but from behind him.

He turned quickly and gazed out at the landscape. far off, not even a kilometer away, they marched forward.

Orcs.

There were too many to count, Goblins, Orcs, Trolls, all of them marching to Bastion, their ranks stretching into the horizon. The soldier ran to the edge of the tower and shouted to those on the ground.

"ORCS! ORCS! THEY'RE HERE!"

Gabriel rushed through the gap in the wall and looked to the east. There indeed he saw the approaching storm.

"Get your men back in the Fortress!" he yelled, and ran to Sarin and Alec. "There's no time for that now! Get inside!" He shoved the two in and climbed over the ruins. He signaled for the footmen to join him at the breach, and the archers to take to the Trenches and walls. He waved John over to him.

"Is there any way you can cover that breach with ice?" he asked as a wave of adrenaline washed over him. Even as he waited for the answer, the Orcs stopped three hundred meters from the walls; A huge Orc bearing a great battle axe stepped forward, a feral grin on his face.

The Siege of Bastion had begun.