RP:D Day; The Ground Assault on Rynvale
NOTE: The outcome of this role play came under administration review. It was determined as having occurred as written, except that the battle was determined inconclusive. Please assume allied forces faced a push back from ogre population that forced eventual retreat again.
Part of the Liberation of Rynvale Arc
Synopsis: The Ground forces of The Fold breech Rynvale through the prepared unblocked cave entrance in the Fog Forest. After engagement and skirmishes with mercenary defenders of the Archmosian territory, the rebels push through to Gamorg for temporary victory.
Characters: Arien, Daein, Keturah, Ganjimu, Parsithius, Shaelus, Cerinii, Kenneth, Roussai.
Location: Rynvale; The Fog Forest.
Playing time 7 hours.
The fog swirled with a thick magical denseness around the elf as she led the war party through the forest heading north towards the objective set before them this day. Lithe body was clad, head to toe in the custom armor of the Order, pale fingers wrapped around the shaft of the mana flail that was her range weapon on choice, emerald eyes flashing through the openings of the vizard that hid her identity in part from view. Fiery head turned, signaling to Gunnar to make his way to the head of the line, her voice dropping to a low murmur. “We don’t know what’s waiting on the other side..I’d prefer one of your war band up front..just in case..” The trip through portal from Alythria had taken some organization, they had had to be sure that no more than two giants at a time went through at once, the cave on the other end on the island being rather a tight fit for their kind but they had all made it through, and now finally were on the move. She turned allowing gaze to sweep across those assembled. She could only pray she would get them all out alive. “By Fidelity and Fortitude men..onwards.”
Daein stood at Arien’s side for a moment, hands moving in quick succession through a few arcane gestures. As his hands moved, the fog seemed to thicken around his hands...And stick. He gathered up what he had and place it over his functioning right eye, a lense of fog to see through fog. His sight was extended about fourty yards past what he could see with the naked eye. The elf, dressed in no armor, wearing his everyday green suit of tailored atire, and soft leather boots, drew his Yummuri long bow, notched an arrow, and slipped off to the far left of the war party, where he would have a clear view if any target showed themselves to his extended vision.
Keturah walked, staff tipped as to keep it from touching the ground. The woman remained surprisingly sure-footed amidst the bramble that littered the forest floor. Little sound was made from her footfalls, though there was the faintest tinkling of glass between the chainmail and silks that draped her small form. She had done her best to get ready for the day in the little time her capture had allotted, though the only thing she carried with her besides her weapons was a hastily prepared medical pouch. She followed, quietly forming the beginnings of a spell. She would not complete the incantation, but the thought that the Divine was readying for whatever might lay ahead left the druid at least slightly more at ease. She would be ready to fight her hardest.
Ganjimu barely makes a sound as he walks the familiar terrain of the island. His knives, usually glinting and jigling at his belt, are individually wrapped in cloth, masking the only part of his attire that could make a noise. His plain white shirt blends well in the dense fog as the elf's left hand grip his weapon tightly. No failures this time. He pads quickly to walk behind Arien and to her left, prepared for anything. Anything but a large dark object moving across the sky, barely visible through the dense fog. Ganj slows down slightly to stare at the unkown mass floating overhead, then returns to the moment at hand and picks up his pace.
Parsithius :: The figure of the Knight glints through the fog so boisterously laying claim to this forest, it's plumes rising in both clouds and wisps to caress and lick at the figure of the Clydesdalian mount and its rider; steed mimicking almost perfectly the stoicism of stark, golden hair, shining, silver-hued platemail, and narrowed azure eyes. His form stands across a distance, just too far to hit with bowstrike, standing in silhouette grace; his frame is almost godly, the way it emenates through this darkness in cutting confidence and surreal glint of light against his armor. His beast snorts contemptuously there, knicking a hoof against the ground and ducking its head in signal of its impatience, calmed only by the slightest movement of the Knight's gauntlet against the creature's neck. That, however, is all that is seen of the Empire's land-based defenses. The lone knight, standing before these Fold troops, these giants, without the faintest flinch of fear.
Arien raised a pale fist at the first glinting of armament though the swirling mists. It was but a flash, there and then gone-but she knew it had been there. What was it? And if it was a patrol, how many were present? She would not move her band another step until she established the size of the force awaiting if a force it was. She turned to Daein on her flank, the ranger was skilled in stealth and tracking. “ I thought I saw something..check it our for me?” Her voice was low so as not to carry through the mists, and she lowered herself to the ground, indicating with flattened palm that the remainder of the squad do so as well. She winced at the thought that the giants would be harder to conceal-what she gained in brawn she had to give up in stealth.
Daein gave a slight nod to his leader as he stalked forward, silently creeping through the brush. He got sight of the enemy, an unknown man in armor, mounted on a horse. Surely the man could not see Daein, though, for the only reason the High Elf could see that far was because of the clear-seeing fog-lens he had crafted. Daein and Arien shared a mind- or soul- link, and he passed the message to her through that..."One enemy, mounted, in the open. Heavy armor." He did not give back the ground he had taken and now he was within fifty yards of the target. He took a knee behind a tree, only a fraction of his head would be visible if the man could, in fact, see through the fog as well as Daein. He would be a nigh impossible to spot, and even harder to hit with a ranged weapon.
Kenneth sighed softly, waiting for The Squadron to move out when he sensed another. As a Lycan and a ranger, whom are connected to nature, moreso animals, unlike Druid, who were more for the Earth itself, he had an animal instinct. He went to whisper to Arien of the presence, but saw her speaking to the elf male. "Master Arien.....Who is it?" he whispered softly. He had his hands in his pockets, waiting for her answer.
Parsithius is certainly imposing, if anything, and the sheer aspect of the knight in the open, standing alone before a squadron of Fold-associates and their ilk. His azure eyes are narrowed, and keenly to pierce the haze of the fog and plumes of wispy, gray atmosphere around him; he stands out in simplest of effigies. Stern, authoritive, and commanding, his voice calls out, laced in monotone symphony. "Halt. To what intend to you move through these forests?"
Shaelus shouted, "The hour of war is upon us! Be ready! *thousands cheering and screaming in response* For Lithrydel! For Armantium! For the Republic!"
Parsithius shouted, "Hold the lines!"
Keturah had stopped at her leader's signal, steadily lowering herself to the ground. Hand fled to her blouse, grabbing for one of the glass spheres hidden within. The voice that called out, however, she recognized. "Knight," she muttered, biting on the inside of her cheek. She had yet to see him, and with no orders given thus far, kept still.
Ganjimu drops to the ground slowly, making sure not to make a sudden move that could tip off an onlooker to his presence. The voice reaching his ears sounded awfully familiar, but at present, the swordsman has yet to make the connection as to whom it belongs to. For now, he simply stays crouched and ready to move at a moment's notice. Oddly, this is the longest the elf has gone without speaking in a long time.
Cerinii shouted, "Ready! Aim! Fire!"
Cerinii shouted, "..." The sound of gunfire resonates from a single area, loud and deafening cries from the gun turrets."
Parsithius is undeterred by the sudden silence before him, the lack of ambience reinforcing his suspicions and causing him to move; the Knight simply twists his mount around -raising a single gauntlet into the air, with digits outstretched. "It is not in your best interest to withhold this information. What is your destination?" The man cannot see all of the Fold's troops, but several silhouettes are visible, and he remains firm. As well, a certain, subtle chorus fills the air; tightening bowstrings. Avians are heard, in the distance, to which the Knight shouts his command to the others -those in the city, his voice carrying easily. However, there is a distinct lack of movement within the trees.
Arien is an archer in her own right, and recognizes that sound, the tightening and tension of the strings of bows-the knight had reinforcements. How many she could not be sure, but they were there in the fog, and death would be in the shower of arrows if her men were not prepared. Fiery head snapped around in the murkiness. “Raise shields!” The order is snapped with urgency, if quietly. “Gunnar, have your band encircle the squadron and raise what defense they can over those with no shield of their own.” The elf, however would not retreat to the protection of the barrier that would be established. Long legged stride would take her through the mists, past the skulking ranger. “Cover me…” would her spirit whisper to his, until she came to a halt some few feet before the knight upon his horse. It would be at this point that the heavy silence of stealth would be shattered by the blasting of guns and the thundering shouts of the fallen god. She could not help the leap of her heart as her mind envisioned the scene playing out, but she schooled her features to neutrality as she faced the knight. “We mean to pass through knight..it is not our purpose to attack the city.” How incongruous might it seem to him to hear those words when the cries of avian assault rang forth-but it was the truth.
Shaelus shouted, "*the ground shakes at the sound of Solaris' voice*"
Parsithius knows exactly the position of the Fold's troops, and has anticipated their antics swiftly; the sound of shields drawn and urgent whispers telltale to suspicion with relative ease. Coupled with the avian's sounds of war, the Knight's eyes narrow easily. "It will be your purpose. I can hold my forces here, swift and simply. Many of you will die. Some won't. I can see your plan, Arien of the Fold. You have lied to me, twice now. And as such, my disposition toward you is lowered. So we shall fight." The gauntlet, having been ascended into the air of fog, snaps shut; 'twang!' is the multitude! Literally, hundreds of arrows are loosed upon the collection of troops, without intention of mercy. Parsithius' own hand is dropped, gripping his halberd and rounding his horse to face Arien. From the flora and fauna, troops rise, marching with grim determination in their battle armor; highly-skilled men, perhaps two dozen, with likely reinforcements, brandishing blades at the circle.
Kenneth awaited impatiently. Though the speeds of normal arrows are almost to the point of 200MPH, he could block it in time....he hoped.....So he did not raise his own sheild yet, in case enemies do buy the reasoning. He sighed softly, looking back at Keturah and Ganjimu. He had to protect them too.....as well as that elf male and Master Arien. He wanted to follow Arien, but prehaps his place was to stay put....for now.
Keturah grimaced bleakly; the woman had no shield of her own. Head ducked, throaty whispers ensuing as the woman worked her magics. Unnecessary, it would seem. The giants performed their task well, defenses raised were certainly enough to offer protection from the storm of arrows. Rising a bit, the druid patted the nearest giant 'pon the ankle in thanks, moss-colored gaze shifting the troops now marching toward their group from the fog. Already, the woman had begun her whispers, grip on her staff growing ever tighter with her anticipation. She would have to await a command, which she knew. For now, she began readying herself.
Parsithius watches Arien, tilting his head ever so slightly to betray long tresses of those golden locks about his figure; "I had never considered you an enemy, Arien of the Fold," He says mournfully, as if dismayed by his own actions. "And yet, you betray me by deception. I had worried you had fallen, and here you are; fallen. War does change a mind." The last words are spoken much softer, much quieter, as his hands work swiftly around the stave of his mammoth halberd, twirling it about to hold it at the side of his horse; Arien, and a mounted Knight. Standing alone, facing off. Meanwhile, those Larket soldiers are becoming swiftly efficient, forming into squadrons to nit and pick at the giants; goading them away from the circle, so the numerous archers and fire arrows into vacant spots. A wicked tactic.
Arien stands with back straight and her head held high meeting the knight, look for look. “War does change the mind Parsithius. It is an ugly thing in which perhaps there really is no true honor. But it the course upon which we have set and we must see it out.” She would not be so foolish as to turn her back on the knight to observe the action behind her. She had not raised her own shield, assuming correctly that her proximity to the knight would be all the shield she needed. Her mind and heart were upon the security of her men however and thus she would establish the order to them through the link that bonded them. Back to back and hold the line, as they attempted to press north towards the Gamorg city gates.
Daein was impatient. He knew all too well what watching and waiting for the right moment could cause....The lack of action often lead to death of his friends. He spotted two of the enemy that appeared to be slightly different from the rest, and he labeled them as sub-leaders. With Arien distracting the leader, he decided to go to the second echelon. Taking two shots, he looked away from them, assuming his arrows would find their mark true. His next two shots were simply fired into the writhing masses, then he slung the bow and drew his twin sabers, rushing forward, north bound, past the horseman, and into the onslaught.
Shaelus shouted, "Prepare to fire!"
Parsithius 's horse, undeterred by any of the going-ons around it, has begun taking simple, gradual stride toward Arien, both ominous and imposing; the Knight's mounted frame intimidating a sight, especially upon the back of a Clydesdalian horse. The arrows continue to fly, even as several archers are struck in the neck by those loosed because of Daein. More, however, take the fallen's place. The organization of the soldiers is far too well to simply be rushed into, and shields easily repel the twin-saber-wielding man, hooking together to knock him backward before about four of the highly-trained soldiers descend upon him; swinging their longswords here and there. The circle of troops that are behind Arien, however, continue to get picked at by soldiers, and rained upon by arrows. "War has no face. There is no bias in war. Honorable or dishonorable, it ends life; for cause or lack thereof." Parsithius' face is still mounrful, his azure eyes piercing.
Kenneth followed the secret orders of Arien, nodding at both Keturah and Ganjimu. This slight second caught him, nailing an arrow through his left side of his torso. "Ack! Now...that's going to be a pain." He quickly removed the arrow and went to heal it, only to be pierced twice more around the same area and a third arrow would pierce the back of his hand. "Ahh....Damn it..." He fell into place, with his back upon Keturah and Ganjimu, if they were to follow orders. He then began to remove the arrows, but could only remove the two torso arrows, as the arrow upon the hand wouldn't budge with only one hand. "Damn it....." The arrow was wedged in his palm and connected to his torso. "What a pain....." He ignored his hand and roughly removed his right glove with his sharp, Lycan teeth and placed the free hand over the open torso wounds. The hand glowed an excelled golden aura and within seconds, the wounds were healed, as if nothing touched them. "Ouch.....that's done....now if I can only get this last arrow out...."
Keturah stood, rolling the sphere within her right hand. She'd only a few of the earth and seed filled globes, more taken from her just a few nights before. Perhaps she over valued the things; it was not as if the druid had a chance to test their effectiveness yet. A few of the giants had already been provoked into straying, leaving more than enough room for the arrows that hurtled through. One in particular had struck the woman's dominant left arm, leaving her to crying out and staff clattering to the ground. She and Ganj had already fallen back, pressed back to back with the lycan. Left arm was useless, and she hardly waited for the same to be true of her right. A toss of the sphere might have left glass to shatter against one of the armored men, cloud of earth and seedlings hopefully covering them. Hopefully leaving those seeds caught within the coverings of the soldiers, and in a matter of moments they would burst and blossom into the thorned vines the druid was so fond of. She'd meant to help the giants somehow. "That von is to be in trouble, yes?" She muttered, gaze narrowing upon the soldiers that fell upon Daein. Another arrow by then managed to bury itself in the woman's side, and with a muffled 'Accha!' and grimace, she'd attempt at getting it free.
Parsithius merely continues upon his pathway; closing the distance between himself and Arien. Many men however, are sacrificed; dying at the hands of thorns and thrashing giants, screaming and bleeding in their inevitable deaths to the grim symphony of their lives ending. A terrible thing, though Parsithius doesn't flinch. More soldiers, in ultimate discipline, take up the fallen ones' places, continuing to goad at the giants and allow archers to shoot into the circle.
Arien does not back away from the approaching knight though there is a certain flare that lends heat to her eyes. She can hear the cost of war raging around her and knows that some of her men have been struck. And yet she stands still with words upon her lips? She meets the gaze of the knight. “I know you do not intend to fight me mounted Parsithius-or do you not intend to meet me at all? Are we to talk while our men die? I have told you it is not Rynvale that is our objective-you have no mandate to protect that which we seek. Let us pass and end this rising toll before it is too late.” The continued bombardment of the avians further north causes a shuddering in the earth violent enough to make her reach out to center her balance. Again she sends message over the link they –must move- to be cornered here would be their destruction. She would need Gunnar’s war band to break a way through..even if only a few feet. (ooc one north if Parsithius approves?)
Daein was knocked to the ground, wind pushed from his lungs. Before the men could fall on him though, he was back on his feet, and he stepped into a dance, it seemed, twin sabers a living extension of his own arms. Two of the men dropped in the first steps of the dance, their thoughts turned into a macabre joke of a second mouth under their chin. He broke contact, then to move to assist those trying to get the giants to break away, so they could move north.
Roussai passes through the fog silently and comes to land next to Arien.
Parsithius narrows his eyes upon Arien as she speaks her words, slicing them easily to view Roussai with analytical presence; with that, a grim frown crosses his features. "I will not dismount on behest of a one-on-one combat, if you will not honor that." He twirls his halberd in distinct reverie of times past, recollecting ancient traditions passed down through knighthood, and twisting his mount to move sideways, his weapon pointed straight at Arien. "Come then, and fight." Those men die by Daein's hand, but there are swiftly more to take their place, more studious, and more compelled to win; arrows continue to fly, and giants are continuously goaded by soldiers. Overall, this begins to look worse and worse for Arien's troop.
Kenneth moved with the squadron, the giant taken signifigant damage. He heard Keturah's crys. "Keturah!" Quickly, he wedged out her arrows, ignoring his own wound, and thus began to heal hers instantly, using the golden aura again. He looked a bit weary. "Here..." He kicked the earth under them, creating a rock slab. "Use this to protect yourself better.....okay?" He smiled at her and also made one for Genjimu. He was almost hit in the neck by a stray arrow, but quickly blocked with a raised earth he commanded to block mentally and then return to the ground. "We got to get there faster....but how?"
Keturah was half-staggering as the group pushed forward. The arrow in her side might have damaged her the most- judging from the crimson frame that now stained it. As the fog lowered and the druid suddenly found herself being healed, her moss colored gaze would pass over the multitudes of soldiers. There were certainly a great many, almost endless. Nearby, one of the giants reeled, falling forward, and opened quite a large space for more of those nasty arrows to come flying through. The conjured slab of rock offered her some protection, but the woman remained too scrawny to use it properly; earning her another arrow in the leg. "How?" She winced, and shook her head, grabbing for another earth filled sphere. This was tossed again toward the soldiers, meant to break and spring forth vines just as the first had. "Ve stay alive first, yes?"
Parsithius is swift, contrary to popular belief of armor-clad individuals, aiming his sights first upon Arien, then upon Roussai in simple scrutiny of their being. Deigning not to give his advantage of height, the knight remains affixed upon saddle of his mount, and the latter brings him between them, using intricate warning swings with his halberd to place distance between himself and the two opponents. Then, simply, he says, "Come forth." In the meanwhile, one of the nondescript giants are felled, to the ground in a crumpled heap where it is brutally slaughtered into nothing more than an enormous mound of flesh. At this point, the slab of rock is being worked around, and the circle has a distinct disadvantage at missing a link in their giantish wall; archers taking complete opportunity thereof, and launching volleys toward the unprotected backs of the Fold, giants, and Nagas, through that window of opportunity.
Roussai cast war-weary eyes about the scene, looking, watching. It was not until Parsithius spoke that the General gave the man his full attention. Without reply, the Avian moved forth, his single remaining arm grasping the leather-bound hilt of his weapon and pulls free Burning Dawn and speaks to the mounted man. "It shall be you and I who fight. Dismount," he said without any note of caring in his voice.
Parsithius tilts his gaze to slice narrowed azure eyes toward Roussai in distinct scrutiny of the General, and the Knight is not at all trusting enough to dismount; Arien has not been forgotten of. "And allow your deceptive ally to have a clear shot at my back? I fear not." The halberd swings first toward Roussai, in a swift, powerful, horizontal arc toward the man's gullet; it follows through in a wide circle, shifting his eyes and view to Arien. The follow-through is aimed toward her own neck -in this way, the mounted knight aims to decapitate both in one swift, elegant move.
Arien had not taken her eyes off of the knight for one instant, and as a result when the mammoth pole arm began its journey to the avian general’s body she was already centering her balance for reaction to its ultimate destination-which would most likely be her person. She threw her body sideways her torso arched away from the killing blade which missed her only by hair’s breath. Allowing her momentum to propel her into tumbling roll that found her crouched and facing the mounted knight, the elf reached down for her mana flail the shaft flaring to live with an arc of mana energy that ended in the elemental enchantment of choice..in this instance frost. Her flail was her range weapon the energy reaching out as far as she willed it-within reason- and thus would she attempt to ‘whip’ the knight upon his steed with a blast of armor and bone chilling cold that would surely slow him down. As she fought she shouted the order. “Press on men..hold the line!”
Shaelus shouted, "FIRE! *the sound of Armantium's cannons can be heard as they fire at the castle walls*"
Parsithius shouted, "Hold the lines!"
Shaelus shouted, "We're done here. All soldiers back to the city."
Daein stopped all of his movements, to assess the line. Sheathing his sabers, he drew one his bow again, and in a matter of two seconds, he let three arrows loose, dropping the same amount of targets. He was reveling in the battle, enjoying his accuracy, impressed with himself...His raspy, scarred voice could be heard over the din of battle as he watched the blood pour from his allies. "Ari, we cannot hold the line much longer! There is too much blood on our lines!" He sent his next arrows towards the knight, hoping that Arien would take the chance to break away. The fourth arrow was let loose as the first should have hit it's mark. They were perfect shots, his sight alignment and the steadiness of his arm was perfect...Then he stopped reveling in the shots as he noticed, a little too late, that a set of enemy archers had taken note of him, a few arrows blossoming from his right thigh.
Parsithius is struck! Three arrows, managing to get the knight in the side, bringing him about to scrutin -'bam!' Is the flail, against his back; distinctly attempting, and succeeding, to hear the avian's call in the background. The Fold is losing, but the Knight cannot press on -the city! And, so his horse turns, and he whistles, before shouting his retreat. "Fall back to the city, men!" His underarm is wide open for attack.
Kenneth noticed at once the enemy was backing off. "Ehh? Keturah.....they're....they're...retreating?" He blocked a few more arrows with earth materials, wondering what was this about.
Keturah was at the moment busying herself trying to guard against the arrows with that slab of rock- for what good it was doing her. She hadn't heard the avian's call, but the shadow that passed over the earth had been enough sign that the aerial assault had been completed. She hoped. Moss-colored eyes turned to the Knight at Kenneth's note. The druid was silent, watchful for her leader and the male. Too far to spot the opening, Keturah turned her gaze northernward. "I know naught."
Arien told your clan, "*She seems incredulous* The knight is retreating!! Those of you too injured to press on, fall back to the portal. Get back to the mainland and have your wounds attended. I will press on with Gunnar and his warband to seige the ogre city."
Daein snapped the arrows off in his leg, and cast a fleeting glance over the fallen. He was loosing blood fast, and so he began his retreat to the south.
Parsithius 's signals has the men all twisting and turning, all leaving at behest of their commander. And upon that, Parsithius lingers, only to say to Arien, "Your battle hinges on false hope. Know the cost of your victory is the deaths of the innocent by gunfire and bombs of your 'angelic' allies. Goodbye, elf." A signal, perhaps? He called her simply 'elf'. And upon that note, his horse vanishes into the woods with him.
Gamorg: City of Ogres
The progress of the much reduced and battered ground division was much swifter as all resistance fell away before them, but the price had been steep in lives and injury. Arien hoped the unit would have the reserves left to do what would perhaps be the most challenging aspect of their mission, lay siege to the ogre city. Oh, she knew she could not stroll into an imperial allied territory and win the day, but she could begin the process of squeezing the will to resist from the city. She would have them withdraw their support of the neighboring emperor and perhaps, even in time find the land useful as a territory from which to launch the offensive that would end his reign once and for all. But that would mean cutting them off from their sole connection to the outside world-access to Rynvale proper. Pausing at the demolished wall that once fortified the city the elf would spread map before her noting the two single points that provided the narrow thoroughfares. Gunnar stood behind, leaning low to peer at the smallness of the markings he could barely see. “Here..” The finger moved across the map, “And here.. I will need your men to establish outposts, enough numbers that life will become quite-uncomfortable- for any who seek to pass. There may be some resistance once we get into the city proper. Are you ready?” The grin plastered across the giant’s face answered the question for her. “Let’s move out then.” Arien would turn to offer Keturah and Kenneth an encouraging smile. Soon, it would be over.
Keturah followed close behind Arien and the remaining giants, turning her stare toward Kenneth every so often. Once they had stopped, the druid moved toward him, gingerly working on removing the arrow. She was gentle enough, and after she had managed to remove it set to work healing the injury with her magic. "Be still," she muttered, gaze turning to Arien. She knew herself to be weary, to be sure, but she had duties to see to. Once she had finished healing the wound, the druid hobbled toward the elf, offering a smile of her own. "Chal, Lady." She had two of her glass spheres left and enough magic at least to be of use. The giants moved forward, a few setting up camp whilst others began marching into the city. The ogres would have more than enough to deal with, it seemed. "What would you have me do, Lady Arien?" Keturah asked softly, dipping her head into a bow.
Kenneth walked with the other three. He was pulling at the arrow when Keturah came to help. He winced when healing was in progess then after that, told her, "Thanks..." He watched the giants set up a defense area whilst others stood guard, in case other beings went to stop them. He walked with Keturah, nodding at her question. "Should I get a better view of what's happening at Archmosia or what their doing or what exactly?"
Arien smiled again at both of her kinsmen. “What I want you both to do right now is rest. Our part is done, Gunnar’s is just beginning.” Emerald gaze would turn to observe the Frostmaw leader as he instructed his war band in their duties. “Use the rubble from the shattered wall..rebuild it..and post men at the gate. No one goes out..no one comes in.” His tone brokered no argument and his underlings went about the task with swift efficiency, the boulders that had made up the fortifications of the city seeming almost as pebbles in some instances between enormous fingers. With twenty to complete the labor, work was soon done. In the distance just beyond the walls came the hue and cry from the heart of the city when it became evident that the enemy was at the gate, but the division of ogres that descended found themselves met with sweeping blades or axes and smashing fists. They would fall back to plot and scheme the means to their freedom. Leaving a few to guard the gates, a smaller party would enter the city and head east, passing through a rotted village to post themselves at the end of the bridge that lead from Rynvale to the city. They made it entirely clear that none would freely pass. The city of ogres was well and truly under siege.
Keturah nodded, gingerly stepping back to attend to her wounds. All the while, she was listening to the sounds of the siege. "War," she muttered softly, hand diving into her medical pack for a few herbs to apply to her injuries. The day was almost over, thank heavens. She would wait until the order was given to leave, little else she could do whilst the giants went about their task.
Kenneth sat next to Keturah, placing his palms over her wounds, glowing golden again. "Let me help, friend....." He was concentrating hard. A member of The Healer's Guild, Kenneth was skilled in the art of healing. Soon, her wounds would be resealed and most of the pain would be gone. He nodded at her single word and said, "It's a pain.....ain't it? But do not worry. Friends will always protect you. Stick with faith and all well will end well." He spoke with a warm smile.
Gunnar approached the field tent where Arien and the remainder of her ground unit were at rest. “The city is secure Ari..why don’t you and your people head back to the mainland. This will be dangerous territory for you and yours for a while when the emperor discovers our deeds this day. We’ve got it from here. They won’t move freely until they yield.” The smile on the giant was as radiant as the day’s sun. Arien rose then, the wash of exhaustion and post battle aches and pains finally beginning to register. “I do believe we shall take you up on that offer Gun. Stay in touch on link, and keep us informed as to the status of affairs. Turning fiery head to face her men, she allowed the first slow smile, that first appreciation of victory to spread across her features. “Homeward then..” The sound of cannons across the water made her turn momentarily anxious eyes westward. The naval battle still waged, pray gods they all got out alive she would never forgive herself. Without another word the elf would turn on her heels and press southward, her officers falling in behind, back into the foggy forests from whence she had led her men on this perilous adventure-back to the cave and portal that would see them safe in Alythria once more.