Video Game Forums - View Single Post - The Siege of Oceansford: Open War for the Mighty

Vapor · 02-22-2010, 03:57 PM

OoC: Due to my lifestyle of hard drugs, cheap booze and fast women (read: family stuff, magic: the gathering and laziness) I'm late. ehhhh sorries. Here it is:
<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>
The chaos caused by the sudden appearance of a wall and a meteor had scattered the group. Trevellyan's psychic abilities allowed him to not lose focus, and was able to sense where the minds of his teammates were. He sent out a telepathic message to all of them:

<Johannes/Ven/Zarjav! we won't be able to catch up with each other in all this confusion. We'll all fight our way to the center and move on from there. I can sense where each of you are; I'll provide backup if needed.>. He could sense their acknowledgement of this, and moved on.
-------------------
Trevellyan was the one to take advantage of what was going on with the ramp. He ran speedily up the ramp along with Uprain's soldiers the soldiers were too busy and he was too fast for them to be distracted by the purple-skinned, white-robed Moon God. Once he reached the end, he leapt out straight for the wall of the keep, over the heads of many soldiers. He ran vertically up the keep's wall to land on the roof, and stood in the shadow of one of the turrets.

However, he was noticed by many soldiers on the roof. Then more of him were noticed. Using a combination of psychic and light manipulating powers, Trevellyan had created a mirage of himself in the shadow of the other turret- molding the shadows and reflections to suggest his shape, and blurring his own to make himself look exactly like the other: 2 exact copies of a mysterious Trevellyan-shaped smudge. Each one mimicked the others' actions perfectly, making it impossible to tell which was real. Trevellyan hoped that this confusion would buy him a few seconds of time to take out his two daggers and go to business -but the disciplined Oceansford soldiers were unfazed by this. They launched volleys of arrows into both mirages. Both of them took many arrows in the chest, and in unison they collapsed and evaporated. Perhaps that's what the death of a god looks like?...

..No, it's not. Trevellyan had been doubly crafty: Both shapes in the shadows were mirages he was manipulating. He had raced around the wall to go behind the soldiers, and quickly slashed each one's back open with his two daggers. As they fell he ran back to the turret's shadow, cloaking himself in total darkness. Waiting for whatever was to happen or whoever was to come.
--------------------
Johannes simply crept around where nobody was looking- off to the side. A few hundred yards from the ramp, he scaled the wall and climbed over onto the ramparts. there was only one person there who hadn't been killed or distracted by other events. A young soldier threw his spear at the old man's head. He grabbed it in midair, threw it back and made a direct hit to the forehead. The tenderfoot didn't scream. Johannes removed a grappling hook from his coat and rappelled down onto the ground, near a space almost free of the conflict. Then a few zombies noticed him.

Johannes locked eyes with the charging Chattur’gha. There were a dozen lumbering towards him; this would be a one-on-twelve skirmish. let's do this, he thought.

He had once before met this kind of enemy. Many years ago, a necromancer had paid him to track down some of his own Chattur'gha that had escaped. He had learned its main weakness - the head - after a while of tiring fighting. But he had learnt something more in that battle, after talking to the necromancer who had created it. The basic principles of necromancy were explained to Johannes, and those would be incredibly useful right now.

Johannes gazed directly at the undeads and spoke an obscure tongue. Not many alive today knew this language, because by definition, the living aren't supposed to know the language of the dead. But Johannes had picked up the skill at some point in his various travels. The Chattur'gha stopped, mesmerized by the spell he was speaking. The German's strange chanting went on for about a minute. After he was finished, he pointed at the ground. The Chattur’gha bowed, fell down, and died. Fight sorcery with more sorcery. He moved on.
-------------------
Zarjav had been attracting much attention from most of the warriors near the wall, as their swords and arrows had little effect on him. However, once they brought in two young mages, there was an even match. The regular soldiers fled the scene to fight elsewhere. The wizards' magical blasts were the only thing so far to actually hit him, and their defenses were able to prevent some of the damage from his attacks. He was able to kill one out of the two sent against him, but other than that, the fight kept going on between them. bursts of lightning were met with protective auras and blasts of psychic energy met with mental defenses; stabs met with repulsive fields and magical blasts met with shapeshifting evasions. it was a standstill with both sides weakening.

However, when Uprain's Amazing Secret Wall™ appeared, that distracted them both for just a moment - however, Zarjav was able to return to his cool faster than his opponent, and in that second-long window of opportunity he managed to raze his opponent's body with a huge blast of lightning; taking lots of Zarjav's energy in the process. The wizard was burnt to death instantly.

Zarjav slumped over and turned into a puddle. He was extremely tired and would need time to regain his energy. However, he made his way to the center just like Trevellyan said anyway. a small stream of mercury dripping off the rampart's side wouldn't bring too much attention in the heat of this battle, and neither would a lithe trail of quicksilver slithering silently to the central keep.
-------------------
Ven, of course, couldn't keep a low profile. He had been rampaging, simply put. With huge jets of flame, he was carving out a path for himself. He swung his scythe and pitchfork at random places, hoping they'd hit an enemy. So far he hadn't been too much hindered,so it looked like his plan was working. Until the soldiers realized that there would be a need for a long-range, large weapon; such as a ballista bolt, perhaps.

Almost all the way to the central keep, Ven took a break. This wasn't well planned out. There wasn't too much energy left in him after that huge aggressive burst that he'd been pouring out. He fell over right onto the battleground. Then, the bolts. Several ballista bolts came straight at him from one of the turrets. They all made contact with his back or his head. He felt a crack. Knowing that he couldn't handle this, he realized he had.. allies.

His scythe glowed a dull green. Roots sprouted forth from the ground, and dug into it again. There was a strange sound, like something ripping itself from the ground with great force. There was some confusion for those who saw, but this didn't impair the ability of the ballisters to load their next bolt and fire. However, before they could make contact with the scarecrow's body, the sound reached a crescendo and a tree sprang out of the earth to meet them. A mighty ironwood tree had nearly catapulted itself into being right next to Ven, conveniently in the way of the bolts. the projectiles bruised and cracked the tree's bark. Now Ven had a chance to make a break for it, hoping that Trevellyan would make due on his promise to help him if he needed it. He made a run for the keep, seeing Trevellyan's vague form in one of the shadows. Yes, he knew that he had attracted a huge amount of confused attention, but he would probably make it. If that damned alien keeps his promise, he thought as he ran.
-------------------
OoC: So, all my guys are at or closing in towards the central keep. These events happened in the order that it was shown here. Send your supergenerals at me at will (Or whatever's supposed to happen here).

Please excuse flaws. If I had done this perfectly I never would've got it done.

02-22-2010, 03:57 PM	#141
Vapor Senior Member Join Date: Oct 2005 Location: WHERE IT'S AT Gender: Posts: 5,211 Thanks: 314 Thanked 413 Times in 249 Posts	OoC: Due to my lifestyle of hard drugs, cheap booze and fast women (read: family stuff, magic: the gathering and laziness) I'm late. ehhhh sorries. Here it is: <<<<<<<<>>>>>>>> The chaos caused by the sudden appearance of a wall and a meteor had scattered the group. Trevellyan's psychic abilities allowed him to not lose focus, and was able to sense where the minds of his teammates were. He sent out a telepathic message to all of them: <Johannes/Ven/Zarjav! we won't be able to catch up with each other in all this confusion. We'll all fight our way to the center and move on from there. I can sense where each of you are; I'll provide backup if needed.>. He could sense their acknowledgement of this, and moved on. ------------------- Trevellyan was the one to take advantage of what was going on with the ramp. He ran speedily up the ramp along with Uprain's soldiers the soldiers were too busy and he was too fast for them to be distracted by the purple-skinned, white-robed Moon God. Once he reached the end, he leapt out straight for the wall of the keep, over the heads of many soldiers. He ran vertically up the keep's wall to land on the roof, and stood in the shadow of one of the turrets. However, he was noticed by many soldiers on the roof. Then more of him were noticed. Using a combination of psychic and light manipulating powers, Trevellyan had created a mirage of himself in the shadow of the other turret- molding the shadows and reflections to suggest his shape, and blurring his own to make himself look exactly like the other: 2 exact copies of a mysterious Trevellyan-shaped smudge. Each one mimicked the others' actions perfectly, making it impossible to tell which was real. Trevellyan hoped that this confusion would buy him a few seconds of time to take out his two daggers and go to business -but the disciplined Oceansford soldiers were unfazed by this. They launched volleys of arrows into both mirages. Both of them took many arrows in the chest, and in unison they collapsed and evaporated. Perhaps that's what the death of a god looks like?... ..No, it's not. Trevellyan had been doubly crafty: Both shapes in the shadows were mirages he was manipulating. He had raced around the wall to go behind the soldiers, and quickly slashed each one's back open with his two daggers. As they fell he ran back to the turret's shadow, cloaking himself in total darkness. Waiting for whatever was to happen or whoever was to come. -------------------- Johannes simply crept around where nobody was looking- off to the side. A few hundred yards from the ramp, he scaled the wall and climbed over onto the ramparts. there was only one person there who hadn't been killed or distracted by other events. A young soldier threw his spear at the old man's head. He grabbed it in midair, threw it back and made a direct hit to the forehead. The tenderfoot didn't scream. Johannes removed a grappling hook from his coat and rappelled down onto the ground, near a space almost free of the conflict. Then a few zombies noticed him. Johannes locked eyes with the charging Chattur’gha. There were a dozen lumbering towards him; this would be a one-on-twelve skirmish. let's do this, he thought. He had once before met this kind of enemy. Many years ago, a necromancer had paid him to track down some of his own Chattur'gha that had escaped. He had learned its main weakness - the head - after a while of tiring fighting. But he had learnt something more in that battle, after talking to the necromancer who had created it. The basic principles of necromancy were explained to Johannes, and those would be incredibly useful right now. Johannes gazed directly at the undeads and spoke an obscure tongue. Not many alive today knew this language, because by definition, the living aren't supposed to know the language of the dead. But Johannes had picked up the skill at some point in his various travels. The Chattur'gha stopped, mesmerized by the spell he was speaking. The German's strange chanting went on for about a minute. After he was finished, he pointed at the ground. The Chattur’gha bowed, fell down, and died. Fight sorcery with more sorcery. He moved on. ------------------- Zarjav had been attracting much attention from most of the warriors near the wall, as their swords and arrows had little effect on him. However, once they brought in two young mages, there was an even match. The regular soldiers fled the scene to fight elsewhere. The wizards' magical blasts were the only thing so far to actually hit him, and their defenses were able to prevent some of the damage from his attacks. He was able to kill one out of the two sent against him, but other than that, the fight kept going on between them. bursts of lightning were met with protective auras and blasts of psychic energy met with mental defenses; stabs met with repulsive fields and magical blasts met with shapeshifting evasions. it was a standstill with both sides weakening. However, when Uprain's Amazing Secret Wall™ appeared, that distracted them both for just a moment - however, Zarjav was able to return to his cool faster than his opponent, and in that second-long window of opportunity he managed to raze his opponent's body with a huge blast of lightning; taking lots of Zarjav's energy in the process. The wizard was burnt to death instantly. Zarjav slumped over and turned into a puddle. He was extremely tired and would need time to regain his energy. However, he made his way to the center just like Trevellyan said anyway. a small stream of mercury dripping off the rampart's side wouldn't bring too much attention in the heat of this battle, and neither would a lithe trail of quicksilver slithering silently to the central keep. ------------------- Ven, of course, couldn't keep a low profile. He had been rampaging, simply put. With huge jets of flame, he was carving out a path for himself. He swung his scythe and pitchfork at random places, hoping they'd hit an enemy. So far he hadn't been too much hindered,so it looked like his plan was working. Until the soldiers realized that there would be a need for a long-range, large weapon; such as a ballista bolt, perhaps. Almost all the way to the central keep, Ven took a break. This wasn't well planned out. There wasn't too much energy left in him after that huge aggressive burst that he'd been pouring out. He fell over right onto the battleground. Then, the bolts. Several ballista bolts came straight at him from one of the turrets. They all made contact with his back or his head. He felt a crack. Knowing that he couldn't handle this, he realized he had.. allies. His scythe glowed a dull green. Roots sprouted forth from the ground, and dug into it again. There was a strange sound, like something ripping itself from the ground with great force. There was some confusion for those who saw, but this didn't impair the ability of the ballisters to load their next bolt and fire. However, before they could make contact with the scarecrow's body, the sound reached a crescendo and a tree sprang out of the earth to meet them. A mighty ironwood tree had nearly catapulted itself into being right next to Ven, conveniently in the way of the bolts. the projectiles bruised and cracked the tree's bark. Now Ven had a chance to make a break for it, hoping that Trevellyan would make due on his promise to help him if he needed it. He made a run for the keep, seeing Trevellyan's vague form in one of the shadows. Yes, he knew that he had attracted a huge amount of confused attention, but he would probably make it. If that damned alien keeps his promise, he thought as he ran. ------------------- OoC: So, all my guys are at or closing in towards the central keep. These events happened in the order that it was shown here. Send your supergenerals at me at will (Or whatever's supposed to happen here). Please excuse flaws. If I had done this perfectly I never would've got it done.