Battle:Second Battle Of Fort Freedom

From HollowWiki

Side Note: The Battle Began randomly with both armies hastily getting into position. At the start there was some confusion over if there was to be a turn order, to allow everyone to get a decent go turn orders were abandoned and it became a free for all, this worked very well occasionally things happen in the wrong order but I have not changed that, I have altered some spelling and some tense to make it as readable as possible without taking too much from each players style, what follows is a brief setting the scene segment I added for color. Enjoy!

Freedom Fighters – The Castle Attackers (Phantasmal Knights & Vuryal Allies)

Vuryal (PK)
Lasher (PK)
Marcus (PK)

Guardians of Hollow – The Castle Defenders (Temple Members & Allies of Donovan)

Myrall (T)
Fertangle (T)
Dallon (EG)
Velve (KoD)

Dark clouds gathered ominously over fort freedom as the army of Vuryal’s “Freedom Fighters”, stood outside the castle intermingling with undead creatures and siege weapons provided by persons unknown. The hardened elite brandished their weapons cruelly eager for battle to be joined with the enemies who had hastily gathered at the fortress gate. The younger members of the army glanced upwards nervously at the vats of hot oil above the gate wondering if it would be the first wave to feel the burning that was sure to follow when the defensive weapon was unleashed upon their side. On the other side of the wall the defenders looked grimly out, leading the attack was a creature of ancient evil, Lasher who had in past fought for the dread lords Kaizer and Solaris and now had arrayed a force of lycan, undead, and vampires to lay siege to their castle. The defenders were resolute though having the forces of “The Temple” come to their aid, and a bard named Dallon who played a heroic tune to steel their hearts for the hardships ahead. Each defender gripped their weapon tightly as they heard the revenant scream to his siege crews to unleash death upon the defenders and many heavy stones, arrows and ballista bolts crashed down thunderously on the wooden walls and stone gate, tearing huge chunks of masonry and timber that crashed down upon on attacker and defender alike. Without even waiting to survey the damage wrought by the siege weapons onslaught berserker fury took hold in the attacking army and they stormed up the fortified wall under a hail of well aimed bow fire from the walls of the defenders as their hand to hand troops gripped spears and swords, battle was met that day on the walls of Fort Freedom, war at come to Larket and Hollow once again a saga of death and destruction was once more about to begin…

Kayla listens with great care as she keeps her eyes on the soldiers not far from her.

Vega appears from the west.

Vega nods "I come to aid in anyway I can"

Velve kneels down in pours some dirt on the ground from a pouch. "Here’s my plan. Let’s face it they are going to get through the gates one way or the other. My plan is to create a 'U' around the gate, mages armed with area affect attacks, archers with their bows, clerics and druids with slowing spells to entrap there feet. Once they walk through the opened gates we then bring it down on top of them while raining arrows and spells on there heads. We can drop the gate on their heads by using gun powder. The gate would indeed need repairing afterwards but it would indeed leave a mark on there forces and be very unexpected.... any idea's or comments?"

Kayla with her spider web feet and hands heads high in the tree close by to get a better view of what is going on, on the other side of the wall by still can't see all she wants and needs to.

Velve smiles, "Good to see you my Vega, I am pleased that you have joined us."

Kayla whispers down to the others ~ “It’s very hard to see what is going on behind the walls, But I am ready. “

Kayla says, “Does anyone know the act of controlling the weather? I need some air clouds to work with."

Myrall tucks her sword into her belt, knowing soon she will need to be able to grab it with ease, but for now it is her bow she must rely on. Unhooking it from her shoulder with practices ease, she slots an arrow into place, using all her strength she draws back the string, firing the fletched wood high into the air. As it whistles upwards the feathers at the tip of the shaft start to glow and shimmer with the intensity of fire fuelled by air, until at a height well above the assembled foe, it bursts into flames, and sends a hail of scorching meteors scattering down upon them.

Vega draws his Axe closer...preparing for war upon him and his fellow members...his muscles tense and draw and beat like his heart.

Vega looked at Ryeanna.

Jhessail told your clan, "Mnn, apparently the town’s people of Larket have to decided to attack anyone who even has a wolf like creature as a pet. I will see if I can loose them."

Ryeanna standing quite far back in the battle line eyes up several opponents, looking for a good place to inflict damage on a number of the them at once she eyes the enemy critically with her cold blue eyes. Taking a deep breath of the smoke filled air into her lungs she raises her scepter into the air with pale weak looking hands clasped tightly around its cold silver handle as red rubies shimmer in a decorative orb at the top. Muttering arcane words known only to those versed in the necromantic arts she lowers the ancient relic level with her foes. As she breaths out several tendrils of green lightening leap from the scepters end, slicing through the air seemingly with random intent at clusters of the dark madams foes. Standing back Ryeanna watches carefully as the dark magic is propelled through the air at her foes and she prepares for the counter attack that is certain to follow.

Velve walks over to Lasher and extends his hand. He lets a slight smile take his lips as he says quietly, "I was a little brash earlier, I apologize for that it was not my place. It is an honor to fight along side you, I shall do everything I can to aide you in battle."

Jhessail appears from the west.

Drakhri retreats to a position further away from the battle field so he can work his magic. He begins to chant in a language that most likely won't be understood by those standing with him. He lifts his hands to the heavens, still chanting. The sky begins to get cloudy, thunder echoes across the battlefield. He manipulates the clouds to move to the opposite side of the wall, lightning striking uncontrollably.

Kayla takes aim with her thunder rain arrorws and with great speed and with great skill as she pulls back the string as she sings to the arrow with a order to not miss , she lets it go high above the wall. As she watches the rain of thunder hits the ground on the other side of the high walls that keep the soldiers out of her sight.

Marcus looked at Drakhri.

Jhessail glances behind her with a bit of concern muttering something about hoping she lost the idiots with pitchforks. She slinks over to one side, hoping that amidst the chaos the citizens of Larket will not catch sight of her again. Kicking her pack out of the way, she turns, eyes roving, apparently looking for something.

Dallon tries to duck as the green tongues of destruction lick their damage along the top of the wall. Grimacing as one of his soldiers took the bolt straight through his chest. Looking down at the dark party, his steely eyes narrow in fury, as he raises up his harp, and begins to play a chord of power, and adds his voice: “Arcane forces near and far, from sacred ground to distant star. Bind the elements; make them mine, and elemental music shine!” As the last word is intoned, a cascade of cerulean energy launches forth in a scattered pattern in an attempt to cover more than one foe. The center is aimed at Lasher.

Jhessail flattened herself to the ground suddenly with a sneeze, watching things outside of her realm of abilities fly over her head. She said softly, "Now this is just retarded, we are sitting ducks, and they've got the higher ground," she drew herself back further, hoping to get out of range of the barrage of, what she considered painful futility and kneeling stiffly she began chanting softly, seeing if the wind would heed her request and stir up a cover of dust.

Maere’s armored frame stood beside her comrades, the steel look upon her face clearly seen as she wore no protection. Incabulos, the eagle owl hybrid of Maere’s soared high above the grounds of tension. The Outworld Beauty glanced around a moment, calculating her best way through the barricades and foolish people before her. A sleek grin appeared across her pale painted lips, her iridescent ocular orbs shifting to Lasher. “Beat you to it my dear.” It was a playful gesture as always on the battle ground with her friend of old, in whom she would consider her best friend. Fun and games were over as Maere took a more serious demeanor. A raise of her hand, and a sharp whistle escaping through pursed lips, Incabulos took flight over the wall, spreading his given gift of fear, Nightmare, and sickness. Many behind the walls barricade fell nearly instantly with each of the given, children of their first year of battle were always the easiest. Next Maere, oh that sweet face was enough to have any man part his way to let her pass, but she knew a simple smile would not be the case this time. With the aid of her hybrid avian spreading his destruction, Maere was able to gain a bit more concentration as behind the walls confusion was taking place, Maere found a loop-hole in the band of warriors, each writhing in their own world of hellish thought. She swept them away with a foot, finding her place among the Western Elevation. She paid no attention to what anyone else was doing, she wanted quick work done. A stroke of her finger, almost as if she were drawing, the wall softened as if she had taunted it to obey her, soon followed by a fire-bolt in which Maere was skilled it. Soon there after, Maere disappeared behind the gaping hole in the Western Perimeter, making her way to the very heart of the Fort itself, where she would tirelessly and shamelessly cause destruction.

Kayla seeing the storm clouds that Drakhri has made for her, she lets her arrows go quick and fast like as she aims with great care at the clouds. With the clouds to help her she smiles as she lets 10 arrows go one after the other up high into the clouds she has asked for . As the arrows hit the clouds the lighting strikes the ground on the other side of the wall in a circle of the radius of 50 feet or better aiming to kill the soldiers that are there.

Lasher howls in zeal as extrinsic wings augmentate from his back. The revenant's face shrouded by adumbration as the transformation commences. The dubious orcish creature ascends into the moist forest air; nebulous wings flirt with the dense atmosphere. Lasher's tactile members unsheathe the chaos breaker, a brilliant jade illumination emits off of the death knight's majestic blade as he plummets towards the archers. Slender arrows penetrate his decaying flesh. Plasma accompanies the arrow that transcended straight through his left shoulder another fountain of blood following his leg being grazed. Hastily he greets the first league of archers at the end of his sword. Armed with mere bows they seem defenseless against his onslaught. The first, a middle aged man, disemboweled. The viresence ore of his blade now painted malice red. A young mans head falls to the floor on the other side of the wall, second to fall prey to this war machine.

Ryeanna grimaces seeing a mixture of arrows and fiery molten rocks raining down upon her side. A number of the missiles bounce harmlessly on her spirit field causing it to shimmer and distort making the battlefield a maze of distorting images and confusing explosions of color. Ryeanna’s confusion is confounded by the noise and the seemingly endless barrage of stones and arrows being levied against her and the undead forces. A wicked grin crosses her face as she spots the familiar face of Marcus, seeing the chance to aid a fellow comrade she tears off a well tailored black silken glove shoving it haphazardly into her traveling bag. The dark madam holds a pale well manicured hand in the direction of Marcus, almost immediately a plume of thick smoking black fire leaps from the flattened palm of the vampire fleeting over the head of friend and foe alike. As it hits the surface of the scythe the curved blade explodes into magical flames of deep black that seem intent on slicing through the exposed hide of the enemy and would so with relish.

Marcus reacts at once to Myrall's first attack, and wasting no time, rushes at the group while dragging his weapon along the ground behind him. With only a moment required for concentration, the symbols adorning his arms now seem to glow, the pattern in which they light up of importance. With that, he now waves his hands thrice, each movement resulting in the earth shaking. The third time results in it exploding upward, the soil compacting into a golem easily level with the tower wall. With his scythe now ablaze due to Ryeanna's aid, the vampire now scales his creation, mindful to avoid the meteors which crash and dent the artificial being. Reaching the top finally, he now sneers at the opposition, swinging the weapon multiple times, each movement sending a wave of the black fire toward each of the defense squad gathered.

Kayla taking no time to find a closer place to fight from swings her body with her spider web hands and feet to the closes tree to the wall. Kayla puts her body in a hiding place and begins to blends in with the tree as she takes aim again at the soldiers that are able to be seen now thanks to the high tree she has found. Kayla aims again and again letting the arrows go up into the clouds so that the lightning that she makes hit the ground again but becomes bigger and faster strikes then before . Watching for the others that are working with her on this she aims the lightning only at the soldiers that are the enemy.

Vega smiles as if he is possessed by many demons. His eyes glow red as crimson blood. His Burning-Tainted axe heats up and burns furiously. He then walks to his Leader Velve and waits beside him waiting for a perfect time to attack.

Drakhri begins to take hold of the storm clouds. With a short incantation, more and more storm clouds appear, even fiercer than before. The lightning begins electrocuting and striking many soldiers of the other side. He then begins to spell weave his clouds into attacking the wall, lightning begins to crackle and hit the wall, trying to bring it down so he can lay a most brutal attack upon the enemy soldiers.

Lasher falls to his knee's as some infernal noise penetrates his cerebrum. Mouth agape, exposing what most would believe macabre. Six layers of jagged blood stained incisors protrude the lips that decay has been eating at for what would seem like decades. Composing himself, as a slight tremor runs through him. Extinguished air escapes his septum in the form of a snort. Grasping the opaque hilt of his plagued blade with his free hand he leaps towards the congregated crowd of antagonists and oppressors. The merchant of death he wields conform to his prohibitions with ease. A small thrust becomes a very large and sharp problem for the man of song.

Velve closes his eyes to the barge of magical attacks as he falls into memory. His ears perk and his eye shoots open. With a quick flick of the wrist he catches an arrow headed for his heart and throws the useless tool aside. He looks on to where the enemy lies and curses "Should have gotten the two hundred daggers instead of fifty." He falls to his knees as the transformation to his natural form begins. Crackling of adjusting bones can be heard as his ribs fuse together. His finger nails solidify and become sharp claws while his once silver hair takes a green tint to it. He raises his head and bellows a war cry, opening his mouth wide exposing dagger like teeth. He cuts the webbing that has grown over his fingers away and slowly arises. Velve’s eyes flair into a dark crimson red as he begins to sprint toward where the opponents lay. The hunter has been set free from his mind and now it was time to do what he does best, despite his will to change... kill.

Myrall drops to one knee as the dark forces gather strength, a chill gripping at her heart, causing her to cry out almost as if in pain. The priestess lets loose a terrifying screech, that seems to issue from the very core of her, and as the last strains escape her, as soft while glow starts to envelope her short frame. Swiftly she grasps another arrow from her quiver, and kisses it lightly before lining it up to the sturdy bow. At once the projectile starts to tremor as if eager to be about its business, and the dwarf allows herself a small smile as she unleashes her next assault. As the arrow rushes upward it splits, before it reaches the apex of its fight, so that upon it’s descent not one, but twenty flaming arrows head true and straight for the encroaching army.

Fertangle jumps up and down trying to see over the top of the battlements, but with a wave of his hand at the wall the dwarf turns his back “Bah!!”, the warrior felling like a third wheel at the moment. Only to get struck in the back a surge of green energy sending the dwarf 20ft down to the cobbled path bellow. Dazed for a short time Fertangle groans as he regains to his feet, ribs broken bones bruised, and the wars just started; perhaps he should have stayed in bed today. Fertangle clambers atop Mertak and the two take flight, high above the battlements, a bit of quick fancy flying trying to avoid all the arrows, meteors, lightning and what not. Diving down toward Lasher and his minion Mertak folds his wing in gaining speed as they descend unfurling them at the last opportune moment the dragons head spits forth fire in an attempt burn what little flesh is left on Lashers body off.

Vega runs behind Velve waiting for Velve to land his blow. He lays his sword upon his side dangling to the ground waiting to swing up. His body creates a dark aura as all of the barricades cannot hold his fury back no more.

Ryeanna seeing a lull in the rain of death moves swiftly and gracefully to the back of the battle line. Smiling encouragingly to the fighting men she turns to face the enemy forces intent on causing more mischief. Kneeling down near the ground the dark madam places her palm on the cold stone floor, her conscious thought spilling over from her bodily frame into the ground causing them both to shimmer and distort eerily. Standing up seemingly pleased with something she raises her hands into the air as dozens of skeletal hands do the same breaking through the stone floor as if it were only paper. Slowly but surely the undead side is reinforced by a number of familiar fighters the, corpses of Vyrick the vampire kings army rising from the foundations of the fortress built upon their burial mound after the last war. A shambling force of skeletons in rusted armor armed with crude weapons marches upon the enemy at Ryeanna’s behest as she prepares for further attacks from the honorable foe.

Dallon eyes the dreaded knight landing in front of him. His entertainer’s skill is quickly fallen upon, as he back flips away and cartwheels along the edge of the wall to draw some distance between his vitals and the blade of death. Drakhri's lightning puts crimp in his plan, as his hands reach for a part of the wall that was no longer there. Tumbling, down, he managed to fall still on top of the wall, though not as much distance from the form of Lasher as he wished, he deemed it sufficient for his cause. He begins a tremolo of his highest string, and hums an A sharp scale, causing a wall of sound to fly from the ancient bard, expanding as it careens towards the death knight.

Kayla taking no time to aim with her lighting arrows at the soldiers that are working the vats of hot oil , as she aims her arrows she decides to hit the soldiers in the hopes that the vats of hot oil will spell on the other side of the wall at their own. Kayla aims with her breath steady and her eyes on her target. She lets her arrows go in turn as she hits the soldiers that are on the walls by the vats, as she had planed. Kayla’s arrows hit their targets and only one vat of hot oil is spelled on the inside of the walls.

Jhessail stopped chanting when a hint of discontent and rumbling met her ear. She glanced back over her shoulder just in time to catch a well armed band of citizens approach the motley band from the rear. Her words were best not repeatable as she ducked out of site. She had known that cutting through Larket was simply not a good idea, not until that mage that led the citizens was bribed to forget her, which she had been working on. As the mage pointed in her direction, followed, as it is oft in the world of mages a rather annoying bolt of something or other, she dove to one side, flattening the being next to her. “Er sorry,” she told the other as she dove in amongst the others, weaving her way to their far side. “Look,” she said loudly, “They are after me, but once they realize what we are doing here they will continue to attack from the rear. Perhaps,” she smiled with a hint of something uncomfortable, “I can draw them off,” and with that she pulled something small and smelly out of her pocket and lobbed it at the mage, before taking off at a dead run and attempting to run right through them. At last minute the men realized what she was doing and lowered their pitchforks. She aborted, running into on of the walls and using it as a spring board to change directions drastically, and head back into the milling crowd of attackers.

Ryeanna who had chosen wisely Lasher to stand behind feels the heat from the fire of Fetangle’s Chimera Mertak. The female vampires face distorts into one of pain as she looks around seeing flames hungrily licking up her favorite cape, well made, silk her favorite color, black, anger flashes in her cold blue eyes. Looking round for support and finding her companions busy she screams at her undead hoard to “Get the Chimera!” after that she viciously begins stamping on the corner of the cape trying to extinguish the flames the beast had sent their way.

Marcus, not waiting to let himself be attacked again, now leaps over the wall and into defender territory. With ease, he then lands, head swiveling first left then right to assess who's here. Upon seeing Fertangle, the druid now nods, creeping toward the male with his scythe ready. Still alight with flames as it is, the fiery weapon is then swung at his target's back, Marcus clearly intending to catch him off guard and thus inflict a crippling injury to the fighter.

Velve's once ebony skin now takes to a dark green color. He reaches the wall and presses his padded hands to it, his sharp claws finding gripping against the wall allowing him to scamper up the wall quickly. Once reaching the top of the wall, he flicks his wrists over his belt, a dagger rests between each finger and thumb of both hands. Velve leaps over the edge of the wall and launches all eight projectiles with deadly accuracy towards their meaty targets. The hungry daggers sink their way into the flesh of those that would oppose him, four of them taking eyes two taking the neck while the last to sliding into the gaps warriors armoring. The hunter roared in rage as his opponents did not see it fit to fall before him in either death or fear with his mere presence, which is how it always was when he fought wars; he used this to heighten his blood rage. Everything before him bathed in red, the warmth of his enemies making them glow. As he lands he pulls four more daggers into each hand and lunges forward, drawing four lines over two of the foot soldiers throats. The dieing soldiers look on in surprise, fear and then finally death. The hunter falls into a whirling mass of blades as he spins around, drawing red lines with each swipe of his daggers.

Kayla swings out of sight in the near by trees.

Lasher stands readied, arcane weapon erect, exhibiting the grandeur of the weapon in it's entirety. Unholy writ is embossed in the prodigious virescence ore. Surrounded he pays no heed to the flying dwarf and his steed. The fiery assault, a would be taste of his hellish home leaves his flesh smoldering, char rare, yet his blackened heart keeps him cold to the touch. His once opaque toned flesh now a chalky ebon hue. A vermilion sigil shines through his left pectoral, a sigil the dwarves would recognize, a sigil of power, pulsating, radiating. His forked tongue pushes through his half rotted lips, seemingly searching for a wet relief from the open sore that now leaks a jade fluid. Induced pestilence produces his plague, his tongue is liberated once more to help project his diseased saliva towards Myrall and Drakhri.

Vega sees his leader go upon the top of the wall. Before he reaches the wall he swings his axe up and jumps above the wall right above the soldiers with burning vats of oil. His axe above his head, the fire glows brightly as he falls down upon the soldiers he shouts "Stunning Blow!" ,and when he lands a cloud of outraging fire engulfs the soldiers catching them on fire preventing them from dropping oil upon his allies.

Jhessail said, "I’ve had enough of this,” she paused glaring at the Larket Mage and again using the wall to launch a leap, jumped over the astonished citizens. Ravensbane cleared them with ease, but she took an injury to her ankle and landing hard on it, tumbled to a painful stop before pulling herself up. Grabbing a hold of her friend, she used him to keep moving, hoping to get as far away from the angry mob as she could cursing under her breath, the only word audible, and for good reason, was “sketi"

Jhessail exits west.

Drakhri glares angrily at Lasher as the saliva hits his illusion causing it to shatter. "Damn!" He starts up his incantation again stopping his attack on the wall, realizing his mistake. He then manipulates his clouds of thunder and lightning to attack Lasher. Rain pours down on the battlefield; he forms all the clouds together to strike one huge bolt of lightning aiming for Lasher.

Dartraven shouted to his clan members "Strike the earth!"

Myrall throws back her head and calls out, the sound harsh and assaulting to the ear, and the words unintelligible, but the meaning clear, as a dark shadow appears in the sky directly above where she is kneeling. The figure of a woman dressed in black, her face pale, and lips bloodstained floats just a few feet above the dwarf head, pointing to the wall she screams to creature, “The woman,…..stop her!” in an instant Vale takes flight, her claw like hands poised ready to render flesh from Ryeanna as soon as she is close enough, and her face a mask of malicious intent.

Lasher searches for his allies, the attacking force now spread. The revenant knows better than to break a flank while besieging a fortress, but it was too late now, there was no option, but to press on. His serpentine voice could be heard throughout the battle, "Push on! This battle is ours!" With such words said he held them true, and he pushed.

Dallon sees Lasher turn his gaze to Myrall, and he strokes the chord of power to create a dimension door to the ground outside the walls. He raises his hand to signal the oil men, but then sees they are distracted by an attack of fire on top of them. Turning his attention to the dark lady raising up skeletal warriors, he begins to play a very quick tune. Notes of light begin to shimmer in front of him, circling, growing wider and brighter. The bard quickens the tune more and more, the construct in from of his grows to a ball 12 feet in diameter, and casting a light ahead of him with the brightness of a noonday sun. The heat and blinding waves reaching out towards the lady and her minions, still increasing in intensity.

Fertangle holding Mertaks reins tight in his left hand the dwarf holds his sword out low to his right taking the head off of one undead minion, another’s body sliced in two. Mertak lands sliding to a hault, crushing and smashing many minions as he does so, the pair now behind the enemy; Mertak lets loose with another cone of searing fire arcing it`s head left then right, causing more of the hoard to crumble to dust, Fertangle jumps off Mertaks back and charges into the enemies rear flanks his sword slicing left and right trying to make a path toward Ryeanna. Mertak goes to take flight his large wings unfolding and beating down, the great beast leaps but is grabed by an undead minion and pulled back down with force as the ground shakes about him.

Mihael appears from the west.

Ryeanna cheers loudly seeing the power of the revenant unleashed on the foe. Standing alongside a number of the undead attacking soldiers, who are now taking heavy damage from the musical attack from Dallon, she reaches to a sword handle exposed just under her spiked shoulder covering. Seeing Myrall upon her flying steed swiftly approaching with righteous fury upon her features, the dark madam unsheathes the long sword. With a ring of metallic noises permeating the air accompanied by orange sparks, the dark madam points the sharpened point of the sword straight up hoping to slice the foe. Feeling the claw of the illusionary creature tearing through her unarmored flesh on her arms she screams a terrible wail that seems to demoralize friend and foe alike. Closing her eyes in anguish the vampire does not see if her blade made the mark or not…

Mihael’s feet press against the ground with out a single sound to signal his arrival. Silently stalking forward he emerges from the shadows to watch and see where he is needed.

Velve 's eyes flash and he grins darkly, fighting his way to the gate that the forces try to enter. Velve, planning on trying to hold them back as best he can and hoping to find a worthy foe in all these simple foot soldiers. He releases the daggers in his right hand, quickly dropping four soldiers. He ducks and slides under the swing of one soldier then steps into him, taking the man around the neck, his claws dig deep into the mans throat before tearing it out and moving on. He dives between two soldiers of the invading force and thrusts upwards with his left hand, catching the man on the left in the jaw with four daggers. The soldier to the right of Velve swings downward, hoping to cleave the creature’s skull in two but quickly finds his hand being caught and arm torn off as the creature that is now Velve digs his claws into shoulder and kicks him in the ribs while pulling harshly. He brings the arm to bear to use as a cudgel while he finds his way on one side of the gate, entering the city.

Lasher shouted, "Reinforcements have arrived… Push forward!"

Marcus, hearing Ryeanna screaming, swears loudly while calling off his attack on the dwarf. Using the flames once more to aid him, the dark druid surrounds himself, and with a flash propelling him, leaps upward. Once in the tree, Marcus now leaps once again, this time nearing the beast which threatened one of his allies. With a single swipe of his enchanted weapon, the male attempts now to behead the beast, preventing any future attacks that might come from it.

Vega knowing that Velve is outnumbered dives forward far away from Velve and land his axe upon the ground and shattering a 360 radius explosion knocking them back. He turns backwards making his way towards Velve to aid him. As he makes his way he quickly swings sideways at a soldier cutting him in half. To his left another soldier swings at him overhead. He blocks the blow and swings at his legs blood flying in his face. As the blood drips he continues to fight the herd of soldiers off.

Myrall closes her eyes briefly, allowing her metal images of the battle to guide Val'e movements, as the Illusion swoops down towards her pray, she lashes out, talon like nails swiping at Ryeanna's face, attempting to gouge her eyes from their sockets, and remove welts of flesh where ever possible, but as the blade is thrust up towards her, she ceases her onslaught, veering backards, and once more taking to the skies. On the other side of the wall, the dwarfs lips move silently, her eyes still shut to the carnage around her, as through the ether she weaves her spell. The vampyric illusion, once more sallies forth, her hair streaming behind her as she dives towards Ryeanna, but no, where once nails rose from her fingers, to greet the dark madam, jolts of pure energy bolt forth, angrily spitting fire at the object of her ire.

Drakhri makes his way to Velve and Vega to aid them in their struggle. He lifts up his right hand, and it starts to turn cold like ice. He then begins to weave his chilling touch into an orb of ice. He then begins to launch freezing orbs at the enemies, still manipulating the storm clouds to attack the other side.

Mihael grins at the sight of the gathered souls, his very presence bringing about a force untold and not felt for quite some time. Darkened features claw their way from his shadow as the presence of Nightmares, the reaper of Hollow emerges for a brief instant only to be succumbed by Mihael's own blood lust. Ice blue hues spark from their sockets as the lycan transforms into his beast state. His own body soaked in blood as his razor sharp fangs and claws tear their way through his thick pale flesh. Not needing an invitation, his thick monster digits clamp upon the cold splintered wood of his pick axe. With immense strength he hurls the weapon toward the dwarf woman known as Myrall. The tips of the edge gleaming with anticipation of embedding the steel into the dwarf's head between her eyes. Drawing forth a bow from the realm of the abyss, Mihael then begins to fire several arrows in a barrage to distract anyone who might want to save Myrall from the onslaught. The dangerous arrows tipped with a lethal dose of poison that would kill within seconds of puncturing. Not letting the attacks up just quite yet, Mihael begins to pound the earth drawing forth boulders and stone. With each massive chunk of earth, he kicks and punches them toward the dwarf woman at an incredible speed.

Dallon move his miniature sun closer to the dark lady and her minions, the beam narrowing slightly, focusing on the lady herself.

Lasher encases himself, coiled wings preserves him from the vicious assault. Vermilion life force irrupts from the revenant's sprouted appendages as they assimilate his foe's attack, breaking free of his self induced cocoon. Jagged discolored teeth protrude from the sundered lips that adorn Lasher's sordid face; eyes kindled with malevolence as he once again advances on Jesse. Tip of the blade ensuing his pace. Corpses below rot then decay as the revenant’s shadow consumes it. Now neighboring his opposition, he vaults towards the jugular with his jaw fully extended.

Ryeanna who had managed to allow the claws of the Vampyric-Illusion meet her arms rather than her face steps back as the pure bolts of energy are dispersed by the spirit field,along with the light of Dallon’s attack, the magical forces swept upwards and away from the dark madam. Panting heavily unused to doing the fighting for herself, Ryeanna watches and grins as the energy of Myrall’s attack is absorbed or dispersed by her field. With a few spare moments to tend to her now bloody mangled arm the dark madam curses in a very unladylike way but spots an opportunity. Holding her arm out timidly and recalling her necromancy training carefully the dark madam allows her blood to stream fourth from the wound like a wave of magical energy seeking to engulf Myrall and her steed as well as any foe standing close by. Ryeanna then runs for cover as some mysterious force begins to heal the bloody wound.

Myrall’s eyes snap open as she sense that she is under attack, and she throws her body to the left, the action though life saving is, a fraction of a second too late and the pick axe embeds its self in the dwarfs thigh, a low, agonizing moan escapes her as her keen eyes search the assembled mob for her assailant. Alighting on a lycan who seems to be the source of the attack the priestess, yet again draws back her own bow, and lets fly one more of her precious flaming arrows, this one aimed directly at the beasts heart, knowing that even if flesh is not pierced, then fur with be singed.

Marcus lands once more upon surveying Ryeanna's wounds, and sparing only a moment, heals up her wounds using his energy. Once the task is done, he now races toward the castle wall, once more using his immobile golem to gain entry to the castle's interior. Over the wall he leaps, landing behind Drakhri, Velve and Vega. Within seconds of that, his scythe is then swung at the trio in succession, each swipe meaning to catch them unaware and subsequently, distract them from stopping the invasion occurring.

Kriss appears from the west.

Jesse walks into view, his father's sword in hand as his own silver hued gaze matches Lashers. Bringing the mystical blade to his face, saluting his enemy in the traditional way of the knight that he was trained in. A silent prayer is spoken as he arcs the blade towards the heavens, and a strange aura starts to sheathe the blade. Jesse's pace begins to quicken as he sees Lasher raise his blade and advance upon him. And when Jesse nears close enough to meet Lasher, he brings "Repentance" downwards with a great swing; the mystical blade whistling threw the air as it heads for Lasher, holy power consuming the blade now.

Vega easily deflects the blow. He looks back in fury as he says "You dare to swing at the King of the Abyss!" his body is engulfed with flame as his figure is no more than a shadow of darkness. He quickly swings his axe not physically hitting him but throwing flames at him. Either he backs away from them or gets burned badly.

Mihael grins as the flaming arrow rapidly approaches his chest. His reflexes however do not allow the arrow to pierce the flesh. Instead his arm tightens the sinews and rapidly grabs the shaft of the arrow as it singes his fur slightly before it encompasses his entire body. "How soothing." Raising his right arm he points to the arrows and boulders that still make their way toward Myrall. His lips part for a brief second to let a sigh escape before he spins and hurls the flaming arrow back toward his new found target. The flames burning a bright crimson before they suddenly change into a pale blue. These flames being life draining as they approach the dwarf with the eager urge to feed their hunger.

Lasher abruptly hoists his blade into a parry position. The invigorating sound of steel colliding echo's throughout Fort Freedom. Fabricated flames spew forth from the fiery optics of the resolute death knight as he establishes an unorthodox battle stance. Crouched slightly, leaning forward, digits from his right hand covet the blade's edge as his left hand wields the hilt. Vigorously he exerts the blade forward towards the torso of his exemplary antagonist Jesse.

Drakhri, seeing Marcus leaping into the castle he leaps forward to avoid the blade, but to no avail, it hits his left shoulder as he dodges to the right. Blood trickles down his arm. "Damn...that hurt.", Drakhri once more forms his chilling touch into balls of freezing ice, tossing them at Marcus, hoping one or two will hit him and turn him to ice. He readies his storm clouds to attack Marcus.

Velve growls and catches a thrusting sword and twisting, cruelly, the hand of soldier whom dared to try taking his stomach. He wretches the sword free from the mans hand as the four daggers in his right hand burry themselves deep within the soldiers heart. Velve launches the daggers and watches as four men fall to daggers in there necks. A quick glance over his shoulder lets him know that both Vega and Drakhri are with him. He roars and watches a few of the soldiers around him jump in surprise, "We must kill the generalss!" He moves the sword in his hand with practiced ease, taking down several men quickly. Killing without hesitation or fear. The creature doesn't even wince as his thigh is struck by a cudgel but simply returns the strike with a double handed slash, slicing through cudgel and arm before moving on. The creature within completely ignoring the pain, which is his greatest gift and yet greatest weakness. The creature will not stop until all his opponents are dead.

Myrall once more tries to gain the concentration needed to control Vale, but the pain in her leg, coupled with the threat of attack from the Lycan clouds her mind, and she senses her tight grip on Vale's partial senescence fading, as the Illusion is engulfed in dark energy. In her minds eye she can see Vale writhe under the torturous wave of black that surrounds her, and the bitter taste of panic rises in the dwarf’s throat. Drawing a deep breath the dwarf tries once more to aid the illusion, using all the strength she can must, she causes a bright pure white light to explode in the sky just above Vale, hoping that it will be enough to drive back the dark energy, and allow Vale to escape.

Ryeanna knowing she has little time calls out to an unseen party. Suddenly clouds above the castle darken and a horrific shriek is heard as a gigantic skeletal dragon flies down from above bringing with it a dark aura that seems to sicken all who look upon it. Ryeanna jumps onto the back of the summoned creature and holds on tightly to its skeletal form as it flaps large and terrible fleshless wings sending furious winds around the battlefield. As the beast takes off and the dark madam has to leave the field she throws a rune inscribed orb to Lasher that glows with crimson malice granting the revenant control of her undead forces that continue in her place. As the skeleton dragon flies over the field it spurts fourth an ice cold chill over it’s foes as a living dragon would breath fire. “Till next we meet…”

Deigon appears from the west.

Gwenilyn appears from the west.

Fertangle shouts to mertak to fetch reinforcements; the great beast takes flight once more Undead hanging from its legs as it flies high over the buildings.

Fertangle shouts reinforcements have arrived men, cut them all down.

Myrall thrust her hands forward, still half on her side, but unable to gain either her feet or her knees before the next onslaught, the earth around her starting to tremor and quake, before it bursts upward and forward, like a giant tidal wave of soil, not only block the boulder and arrows being sent her way by the tenacious beast, but also seeking to smother him in earth and drag him back to the hell that spawned him.

Velve hears the his friends being attacked and turns, his eyes watch in almost slow motion as the blade crosses over his chest, he doesn't even try to block for he knows that it will be just a flesh wound. Blood drips down his chest as the second blow of the day lands upon his tough skin. He says nothing but watches Mihael with fiery eyes. With a quick motion he spines around and takes the head of a charging man then lets the sword loose. The sword flips through the air and buries itself into the chest of another man. He kneels down low, now glaring at Mihael, armed with nothing but his claws and teeth at the moment.

Alec appears from the west.

Marcus does nothing to avoid the projectiles hurtled at him, thus they strike his bare chest. Regardless, he's already counteracting the damage by examining his arms. Pressing his index and middle fingers to a seemingly random number of the markings, he then laughs, watching as they glow in response. The result is immediate, the ice which previous hurt him now melting away due to flames which ignite and surround his being, with no harm to him. Serious now, he then rushes at Drakhri once more, moving deliberately past him. With his back in sight, Marcus now reforms the flame into a garrote, seeking to wrap the burning creation around his foe's neck and cause lasting damage to his flesh.

Mihael eyes widen with surprise at the dwarf woman’s will to continue on. "I underestimated you. That won't happen again.” Leaping forward toward Myrall, the lycan monster bounds closer, leaping from rock to rock avoiding the gaping pit below him trying to swallow him whole. However he slips just before he reaches the woman and falls into the pit. The sound that emerges being his simple psychotic laugh. For Mihael does everything with a purpose behind it. As the earth swallows him whole, he lays still. Darkness envelops Mihael while his optics quickly adjusts to the abyss. Pale lips part once again as he whispers to himself. "Let’s play." Reaching toward the surface of the ground he attempts to grab both of Myrall's legs. His immense strength poised to drag her beneath the surface in order to tear the dwarf to shreds.

Gwenilyn stills herself for a moment, gathering her forces, then with a silent command sends her shadow aura to surround Mihael, infusing it with a bitter poison that seeps into the pores, hopefully causing paralysis of the muscles. Then she flings herself to the side of Myrall, where she stations herself to aide her friend.

Vega looks at Velve as he had been hit hard. His anger grows as the flames as his body do the same. He glares over to the first target he sees as he sees Marcus. He launches himself forward with his axe as he prepares to land one of his Stunning Blows on him.

Jesse brings his own blade to a sideways angle to better help stop Lasher's assault. The power of the Orc is incredible as Jesse seems to be losing the battle, the blade he bears nearing its mark. But as Jesse's struggles out a low growl can be hear from within the Priest. His Silver Hued gaze starts to glow, and his skin turn hard and gain a silver hue to them as well. And in another moment, an unexpected and sudden blast of power is erupted from Jesse's being, and he now glows with a holy aura of power, his abilities tripled, and a smirk crosses his face. " let’s take this up a notch!" The smirk disappears and he starts to concentrate, the strange aura of power growing stronger by the second. “Now let's do this!" and with that he tries to push Lasher off of him, his newfound power hopefully catching the Death knight off guard.

Mihael 's arms begin to bleed immensely as the poison seeps into his flesh, however he refuses to allow a petty thing as that stop his attack. . Myrall blinks, and screeches in agony as her already wounded leg is yanked roughly by the ankles, gritting her teeth determinedly, and allowing her dwarven nature to wash over her like a balm, the woman grasps at the pick-axe embedded deep with in the flesh of her thigh. Oblivious to the blood that pours unchecked from the now open wound, she uses the sharp point of the mining weapon to hack at the hands and wrists of the Lycan, that are clasped so firmly about the outer reaches of her legs.

Drakhri looks at the garrote of flame without fear. He lifts both palms of his hands facing the flame of Marcus. His hands begin to turn red like fire as he launches a cone of flame at the 'garrote' launching it back towards the enemy with a sigh of relief. "That was close..."

Gwenilyn narrows her concentration as she sends forth bolts of power from her wand, aimed at Lasher's eyes, hopefully to blind him.

Lasher exits west.

Mihael growls in agony as the dwarf hack away at him with his own weapon. Cursing he releases one hand upon her ankle. Hurling his arm toward the sharp tip of the weapon he allows it to be pierced deeply. Pulling with both arms again, he seeks to yank the weapon out of Myrall's arms.

Marcus reacts inhumanly fast to the reversal of his attack, and merely waving his hand once, breaks apart the garrote. Sneering then to Drakhri, he backs up until he's pressed against the wall. Once his hands have pressed against the stone, he grins cheerfully, now talking to his opponent casually, "Bravo.. now lets see how you deal with this." With that, the symbols on his back, though unseen, now flash in a predetermined order, the effect of this being his golem literally pouring itself over the wall, landing in a pile between himself and those targeted. At once it then reforms, the creations arms rushing out to ensnare both Velve and Drakhri in its grip, surely suffocating if it can bury them completely.

Gwenilyn turns to Mihael and sends forth fire bursts from her wand aimed at his wrists, hoping to sever them from Myrall's legs.

Mihael howls in agony as he releases his hold and vanishes. "Until next time."

Gabrial sends a wave of positively charged electricity toward the chest of Mihael, just in case Gwen’s attack fails.

Myrall gasps as her assailant vanishes and clutches both hands to her bleeding thigh, hoping at least to stem the tide of the blood before the next wave of attacks begin.

Jesse stumbles as Lasher has disappeared. "What!"

Gwenilyn quickly sends a wave of healing power over Myrall's thigh, quickly sealing up the gashes and restoring health to the limb.

Fertangle looks about at the fallen bodies few of the undead minion still continue to fight, their overseers have nearly all but flee`d, the dwarf begins to pick off the stragglers as he makes his way back to the fort gates. Duck, parry and hacking his way back.

Drakhri , with unnatural speed and agility leaps into the air, landing on the golem's fist pulling Velve up with him, retreating to a further away position. He begins his chant once again spell weaving his storm clouds to attack Marcus and his golem. Uncountable lightning bolts strike down upon them as the huge storm moves above their heads. Velve grins as he pulls free the eye patch that covers his right eye, exposing a black orb. He pushes off the ground with his hand and feet, springing backward and landing on the shoulders of an enemy soldier. The man crumbles under the weight of the creature landing on his shoulders. The hunter grips the poor mans head and pulls it free of his body as the soldiers spine snaps. He pushes off the soldier and jumps straight up into the air, tossing the head at Marcus then pulling four daggers as and sending them reeling towards Marcus's two feet and thighs. A hideous laughter escapes his lips as he lands upon the ground.

Marcus reacts with glee at the sight of a corpse so readily available to him. Laughing, he now sprints, the golem which serves him serving as a decoy for the lightning hurtled in his direction. Upon reaching the lifeless body, he kneels, not minding the daggers which strike his armored legs and feet harmlessly. His goal is reviving the fallen warrior, an act made possible only once Marcus has cut open his palm. Oddly, only three glyphs pulse this time, but they're the only ones necessary as his attempt succeeds. Now controlling the body, the vampire sends it staggering toward Velve, mindlessly seeking to throttle life from his body if he gets the chance to.

Jesse looks up and spots Marcus, a wicked smile apon his face as he starts to walk towards him. "Good to see you here... now let's see what you’re made of!"

Marcus lets his warrior continue on as he turns to face Jesse. Seeing the need for it now, the male waves his hand over his midsection, clad almost immediately thereafter in finely polished amour. Casually, a tattooed arm is waved, signaling for the vampire to attack, if he so dares.

Jesse smiles as Marcus is now ready. And the power of Xalious blessing still flowing threw him; Jesse leaps into the air, sword aimed for Marcus's chest as he rears it back.

Vuryal appears from the west.

Drakhri smiles at Velve. "My storm is yours to command, do what you will with it."

Drakhri exits west.

Myrall stagger to her feet, taking a few seconds to tentatively test the newly healed wound on her leg, before offering a grin to her fellow clansmen and warriors "'Tis a good day for it my friends, let us not stop until each one lays bloodied upon the ground!"

Velve grins and pulls free a dragon dagger, diving and rolling around the slower corpse of the vampire as he coats the blade with the serum. He stands tall and motionless for a moment letting the vampire approach him. Without warning he springs to action, he kicks at the vampires wanting arms, desiring to throttle him and thrusts with the dagger toward the heart of the undead. The dagger plunges deep into the vampire, the body shakes harshly as it turns back to a human body, leaving all aspects of the vampirism behind. The body falls to its knees as he twists the dagger cruelly where its heart was. The serum spreads through its body, leaving a lifeless human corpse once again at his feet. He reaches down and grips the arm of the human and tears it off with his left hand and turns toward Marcus. A crazed grin on his face as he laughs darkly, "Need a hand?" The creature hisses.

Marcus is equally ready, and copying the vampire's actions, leaps as well. Much like the sword which cuts through his armor and grazes the flesh beneath, his flaming scythe now seeks to cut into his foe's side, the upward movement meaning to slice his arm off as well.

Gwenilyn hovers near Myrall and Gabriel, waiting for the next move. There is an unusual look to the Fae's eyes. They glint now with an angry fire from deep within. Her small body is relaxed yet vigilant.

Gabrial closes his eyes briefly, and then opens them to reveal them a glowing bright electric blue.

Vuryal laughs as he comes upon the battle scene, cruel crimson optics flashing about as right handed digits creep tighter about his mystical staff. "Well, if the party did not start without me..."