The billow of a crimson cloak

All about Cadomyr and its Guilds. / Alles über Cadomyr und die Gilden in Cadomyr.

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Kraex
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Joined: Mon Jan 21, 2013 12:03 am

The billow of a crimson cloak

Post by Kraex »

((Open to any Order member or those that have interacted with the Orders' members))

Once more into the fray Kraex and Tyan charge side by side toward a common foe. Weathered by battle their tactics worked in unison with effortless grace. Even the keen eyes of their target, a drow archer, can do little against their joint attack. Nevertheless, the damned one unfurls as many arrows as his nimble fingers can notch. It's not enough. The two warriors' swords meet their mark in bloody fashion. Black as obsidian doth the walls stain as both arms of the archer are slashed fatally. The ashened elf reels in pain but is somehow able to grasp his dirk and counter with his remaining strength. Desperate and feeble the blighted barely gets one swipe before two blades embed in his chest. The lights go out quickly for the impaled drow as he utters an ebbing curse. His body falls limp.

Tyan speaks nothing and respectfully removes anything of worth from his fallen adversary. Kraex on the other hand issues out a curse of his own as the battle leaves a flesh wound upon his leather fortifide thigh. For most this underground fortress would be a deathtrap, but these two members of the Crimson Order had faced many evils the harsh lands and underground had to offer. It was their duty whether they willingly admitted it or not. The Order was now sworn protectors of the crown and no shadow of evil would escape their steel.

Wave after wave the drows fought to take back their keep, but none were a match, not even the so called leaders who wielded swords equal to Tyan's height. Both the human and the orc could reach top speed in seconds and what made them most dangerous was their capacity with a sword at such tilt. Wisps in the wind their streaming crimson cloaks tried to keep up as slash after slash landed true. Littered with holes these cloaks are battle-worn and even without artificial dyes would be crimson enough. The ringing of steel upon steel and steel upon bone echoed for hours till only curses could be heard from the shadows.

The drow wanted no more this day and despite their rage they left Kraex and Tyan standing drenched in the filth of their brothers' blackened blood. In town such silence would demand some jest or snide comment, but on the battlefield nothing was needed except field commands. Days weren't always like this and gods' know both Tyan and Kraex had come damn close to death on many occasions. It was these small victories, however, that kept morale high and goals higher. Tyan let the silence hold for just a moment then reached for his tome of return in his bag. Soon the citadel would once again be insight welcoming them home. First, though Tyan surely had to let the drows know whom to fear as he bellowed, "Drow! Know this day, You have been sentenced to death by the CRIMSON ORDER! Evil foes remember my words well!"

And with that he opened the book and read allowed the words of Kraex's beloved home, Cadomyr. With a crack of magical apparition the swirling portal came instantly. Kraex could see the sandy dunes and yes the everlasting citadel. Tyan stepped through with his head bowed. Kraex lingered for only a moment to give one last curse to the drow before he too departed for daylight. Upon emergence they found themselves at high noon and already a victory for the Order under their belt.
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themonk
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Re: The billow of a crimson cloak

Post by themonk »

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The assault on the dwarf keep was no easy mission for the freshly banded Crimson order. The group of warriors gathered together in the market place of Cadomyr sharpening weapons, exchanging fighting tips and having the occasional smoke. The small well rounded party was briefed by the two Crimson leaders Tyan and Kraex Ju whom armed themselves comfortably for gorilla warfare, equipping single handed blades and a mixture of plated and leather armour. Among them was two staff fighters Gurk and Gregor, Blademaiden Josephine, Bronn and the ranger S'rrt armed with his serinjah riders bow.

The party charged out of the Cadomyrian gates and cut through all the deserts creatures until they reached the dwarf bandit keep. Kraex Ju lead a few men to clear the surrounding areas of the keep using his raider ambush tactics. When the bandit's boarders were clear it gave the Crimsons chance to spy on the dwarves activity and plan a perfect assault.

Lead by Kraex managing the front ranks and Tyan taking the rear as he usually prefers, the Crimsons cut through the dwarf front line and got to the front gates with no losses or injuries.
Unfortunately the tide quickly turned as the gates were smashed open. These were no mere bandits the Crimsons realised as cultist dwarf priests fired arcane fire at the clustered group. For a moment the well disciplined party lost order in the flames and only the elderly lizard Gurk could focus on the enemy mage. He resisted the constant waves of magical attacks against his old frail body as he closed his distance knocking the priest unconscious with his staff. As he turned to his brothers in arms to give the all clear a dwarf archer got Gurk in his broad shoulder, S'rrt the ranger quickly rescued his lizard brother with a counter shot hitting the archer between the eyes.

The party quickly tended to their minor burns and threw away damaged equipment before regrouping and continuing the assault in the main hall. The Crimsons put down many stronger foes as they went deeper into the mountains edge. Bronn the only non Cadomyrian fought back to back with Tyan as they where surrounded in one of the keeps enclosed corridors. Gurk was taking cover in a banquet hall nearby tending to another arrow wound with S'rrt and Gregor holding reinforcements off at the halls entrance.

A minute seemed to last an hour for the Crimsons as the reinforcements where beginning to break the hold on the banquet hall. Gurk pulled the second arrow out his missive arm adding to another collection of scars re-joined the fight but sadly it wasn't enough, the Crimson order watched the barricaded doors being bashed in as they prepared for the final fight. Just when cherga seemed to be the only exit from the keep Kraex did what he did best, he climbed up a supporting pillar just above the barricade and readied himself. The bandits roared as they raided the hall charging towards the few injured Crimsons only to have Kraex jump on top of the disorganised mess of rabid dwarves. Kraex hacked and slashed away in a kill frenzy while S'rrt picked off the fleeing bandits with his bow. The band worked together to clear the keep of remaining bandits before making there way back to the main entrance.

Exhausted and injured the party of warriors found an old camp just outside the keep to tend to the wounded and keep an eye on the keep making sure no stragglers escape.
After resting they looked at each other with a smile of fulfilment and relief at no losses and a successful mission. As they put out the fire and collected rationed food they made the journey back to Cadomyr to inform the queen of the Crimson's success.
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forty
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Re: The billow of a crimson cloak

Post by forty »

For the Galmairian mercenary the concept of honor did not really exist within the boundaries of professional duty. Hell, he could hardly call himself a Galmairian, it's just that the Don had the most promising coinpurse. Honor was his notion of street manner and civil conduct if anything. In combat, he believed, a man knows no honor, and neither should they. Outside of professional standards, which he held high to some regard, he did not care for the Order, or the dwarves, or anything about the cause. As long as Tyan kept the coin flowing, he would kill for him. Venturing with the Order, even as an independant, was profitable nonetheless.

Majority of the raid was fairly mundane work. When a library corridor had to be cleared of dwarven archers, it was probably the highlight of danger, where he actually had to earn the coin he was paid. What he admired in Tyan is that he did not hide behind him. He lead by example, and went head first into reconnaissance runs. The mercenary was not in any guild, but had capacity to recognize good guild leadership. He disagreed with Tyan on several fundamental truths of life and motive, but it was not his place to question a man who managed to become a noble in five months starting as a commoner.

The coin was paid, and the mercenary slew. That is all that mattered.
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themonk
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Re: The billow of a crimson cloak

Post by themonk »

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Hunting in the desert tires old Gurk out very quickly, his usual place to relax and do some fishing is the Oasis far to the east of his home. He noticed the fish were a lot more restless than usual this particular day and starting to pick up a scent he only picks up deep in crypts and old ruins. He drops his old tribal decorated rod and follows the scent closer to the mountains edge.

Dusk was coming upon Gurk and his eyes are not what they used to be, he decided to turn back before it got too dark to see. As his back was turned the foul stench became apparent. The ground shook and before his dull eyes as he hastily turned, a huge fleshless claw swung at him. He managed to rely on his training to dodge the assault feeling the wind of the missed blow batter his worn scales. He ducked dodged bobbed and weaved each incoming attack, countering quickly making the bones on the beast rattle with each blow of his gemmed staff. For a moment the beast stopped, giving Gurk time to back off.

Clutching his chest still stressed from the surprise he took a deep breath and looked at the beast to identify it. Standing three times the size of Gurk's large frame with foul musky rotten stench towered a black boned fleshless dragon.

Backing into a small arched cave just too small for the massive dragon, Gurk shoved his clawed index finger into a stitched pocket on his tribal decorated cape. As he retracted his finger from the cape a large dragon fly sat patiently waiting. He emptied his bags entire content on the cave floor with the dragon fly now on his shoulder. With luck he had ink a quill and an old dirty parchment, he hastily began to write a warning letter to Cadomyr and a call for aid from his Crimson comrades. Attaching it as fast as he could to his dragon fly he spoke "Cadomyr" to Dasher and released him.

Some time went by and there was no sign of help coming. The dragon had not gave up on its meal, it was breaking through into the caves entrance. Gurk had no choice but to face the dragon one on one. He stood ready and waited for his timing to be perfect. As soon as it was he dashed between its hind legs striking as he ran out in the open. The dragon was fast on his tail, he was too old to outrun it. The dragon grasped Gurk in his giant needled teeth ragging him left to right like a hay stuffed doll, until it released the lizard allowing him to fall a great distance onto a sand dune.

Lying there alive but badly injured the lizard was like an old pair of tough leather boots you pull out the river once in awhile. But not even a tough pair of boots could survive the dragons approach to finish its prey off. As the dragon slowly opened its jaws and closed its distance to Gurk he could smell the rot, which was odd as there was no flesh on the thing. He closed his aging eyes and said his final words to Zelphia.

"Gurk!" He could hear not to far away. The lizard hastily opened his eyes and saw a flash of a crimson cape pass him leaving half the dragons bottom jawbone laying on the sandy floor. Tyan quickly dragged Gurk's heavily injured hide away form the roaring dragon and ran back towards it fearlessly it seemed to Gurk.

Picking off parts of the dragons most useful bones and retreating repeatedly Tyan wore the beast down, until it was only a struggling pile of skeleton, no bigger than Gurk himself.

Panting heavily from the bout with a few scrapes and bruises Tyan lifted Gurk's large arm over his shoulder and carried him back to Cadomyr.

The faint words in Gurk's tired earhole coming from Tyan's lips was " lets grab some rum ".
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S'rrt
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Re: The billow of a crimson cloak

Post by S'rrt »

It was finally time for him to get an excuse to bring up his archery skills. They weren't much of use on Gobaith but here the bows are phenomenal and crafting arrows seems easier due to the climate affecting the wood. Crafting around four quivers of arrows in some days, today S'rrt settled in one as he prepared for his trip to lower the number of Drow roaming in a mountain. The confidence in his aim had grown throughout his archery training, bulk of it which was on Gobaith, and for a bow S'rrt chose the elven composite bow. Considering he has enough muscle strength to pull the string, why shouldn't he use it? It even offers more range.

"Much better", he thought about the bow and even became cocky. He knew he was cocky, himself, and disliked doing so whenever he realized it. There were reasons for him to be proud of it though as he could fell hostile creatures as strong as Drow in a dozen arrows only. He wasn' even at the peak of his abilities yet which made him excited.

Journey to the cave was effortless. Just running. Inside he ran past most other enemies and obstacles, only stopping to drop the hunters and other ranged weaponry using enemies. When he got to the bottom, to the area where the Drow dwell, he immediately dashed to flatten next to the door once he noticed the entry room was empty. Peeking around the doorframe and running out again he travels deeper, only passing an animated corpse which has no chance at catching him even by walking. A Drow priest was just turning and walking the other way as he guards the corridor. Not realizing too much before it's too long, he receives multiple arrows to his back, staggers and falls to the ground, fast feet brushing by him just after. Stoppin' to start a steady stream of arrows at a mage later after turning a corner in the corridor, S'rrt puts the mage down soon wondering why it takes more shots than most Drow.

A roar echoes from behind S'rrt who spun his head around and dodged the charging Drow warrior immediately. S'rrt took a few shots at him while recovering from the roll and tried to back away. The warrior charged again and missed his slash which S'rrt ducked from, then kicking at his shield which made the warrior stagger back and open for more shots. Upon shooting one and making the warrior fall on his back, S'rrt put a foot to his chest and released another to finish him off.

Upon closing in on the last turn in the corridors S'rrt pressed against it and peeked around the corner, quickly pulling his head back as an arrow scratches his helmet on its way past. S'rrt knew timing is crucial with a Drow archer and the first thing to do is to not let it keep you down. "Just take a deep breath", he thought. "Fresh arrow. Spring out. Duck behind the table." When he got the archer on his knee due to a shot at its leg, S'rrt jumped out of cover and fired two more arrows at him, one to his shoulder and one to his throat. Victoriously smiling did S'rrt walk to the archer's corpse to pull the arrow from his throat and admired at it. "Clean entry. No trouble at all." But something had failed him in his ability to hear or at least sense incoming presence..

A Drow warrior brought its sword down and slashed clean into S'rrt, making him stumble down with a cut leather armor. S'rrt kicked at his leg and took a few steps away, turning and aiming his bow with a wince for the movement of his other arm had suffered because of the blow. The warrior stood up and swung his sword in front of S'rrt, who chose the right moment to shoot him on the arm. This made the warrior keel over and hold his arm, giving S'rrt and ample opportunity to kick him in the face and fire at him while he's down on his back. Staying over the warrior's corpse to aim at his eye, S'rrt panted and stared as if waiting for the warrior to open its eyes again. It didn't happen so S'rrt exhaled, only taking a few breaths in before looking up and seeing that the return corridor was completely blocked. Dozens of summoned creatures, an archer or two, warriors, all coming toward him fast. S'rrt glanced at the twin doors to his side knowing more trouble would lie ahead. Only having a short moment to react, he ran over to a table and pushed it to the bottleneck of the corridor, then flipping it on its side.

In the battle that ensued S'rrt stopped many of the minions before they arrived to his barricade, even an archer, but he was quickly overwhelmed. A warrior beat him down to a corner where S'rrt barely managed to roll away from the warrior's attempt at coup de grâce. Rolling up to a run and aiming at the return corridor, S'rrt got blocked by the minions who scratched and bit at him while a warrior and a priest mauled his back. Just before blacking out, S'rrt sees two figures run toward them from behind the minions.

It is unclear to S'rrt what followed next but his next memory was pushing away a table he had hidden behind and emerging from the corner of the room. Two of his Crimson companions were there Leader Kraex and Blademaiden Josephine. "I can't walk, Kraex", S'rrt uttered before coughing heavily. Kraex replies with noticable concern: "Take joor time. Mes clear dis room furst." The next minutes were a strenuous wait as S'rrt bled slowly and tried to take some shots at any hostile creatures approaching his table. Josephine stood in front of him as an extended cover to the table and allowed him both space for shots and comforting words about his their current predicament.

Soon did Kraex return and help the lizard up so he can support him to the larger room where a portal was already waiting. Back in Cadomyr they brought him into the market and proceeded to treat him with the help of Vinthus who worked per Srrt's instructions on dealing with the sort of wounds he had. "For once I didn't almost die just because I stayed stubbornly", S'rrt thought to himself. "For once it was an ambush and I had no time to escape." He was still very confiden in his abilities but he'll be thinking very hard on how to avoid these situations while the barbed Drow arrowheads are pulled from his chest.
Kraex
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Re: The billow of a crimson cloak

Post by Kraex »

The Order was growing and so was Kraex, into a leader. Honestly, he had not chosen this path and never imagined such responsibility weighing on his shoulders. Fortunately, since Kraex’s transformation he was too stupid and single minded to worry about how he was doing. As another day set to end Kraex couldn’t help but reminisce upon the day and the last several in fact. The highlight for him was all the training he was able give the new recruits. An elf by the name of Vinthus and a scaffold of a human named Abdul had both excelled and vastly exceeded expectations. Then there was Rodam, the youngest of the Order, and truly the most difficult. At every turn Kraex’s standards and Rodam’s personality clashed and in their most recent encounter Kraex had smacked Rodam clear across his face. Kraex had resolved himself to the fact that Rodam would either break or cut ties with Order, and although Kraex didn’t like the thought of losing a member he was ultimately fine with either.

For the greenhorns, as Kraex liked to call them, he’d chosen a dwarven fort high in the mountains near Galmair, which he’d come across in his travels, for their initial field test. The location presented several advantages and challenges for training. Mainly, however, it gave Kraex a reason to kill a few cocky dwarves. Kraex didn’t hate the race in general and in fact had a few acquaintances that he often visited, but some dwarves just drank too much beer and thought they were unbreakable. These were the dwarves Kraex gave no respect nor had qualms killing. While Kraex didn’t know the name of the fortification he was sure it was just a minor outpost for some underground kingdom. Nevertheless, despite how many times Kraex had tried to ruin their numbers more always came.

The day was not all glory, however, it started off quite the contrary in fact. He was having his normal breakfast in the Unicorn Lion tavern when he overheard a concerned Cadomyrian scout talking to Hassan. He gushed about drow ambushing parties in the desert. This concerned Kraex deeply as thoughts of Tyan and him slaying drow by the hundreds just a few months back surfaced. No doubt this was probably a contributing factor to their activity. Kraex would have to do his own scouting to confirm and he promptly left his uneaten meal to make hast toward the gate. To his fortune he bumped headlong into Blademaiden Josephine, a fellow member of the Order.

He quickly informed her of his intentions and concerns. Without hesitation she volunteered her service to the cause. Soon they were racing across the sands and headed toward a mountain refuge that Kraex was fully aware dwelled a leader of the ashened ones. The path to them was not carved by steel since their purpose was direct and urgent. Instead Josephine and Kraex sprinted past the lesser threat to find the cursed drow. Before long they were standing before a shaft that would lead them to the drow’s forsaken temple.

Kraex stealthily removed the wrought iron grate no doubt in place for an emergency escape or launching point. Free to hop down Kraex decided to keep the element of surprise and slowly crept down the reinforced ladder. For whatever reason the antechamber was left unguarded and Kraex motioned Josephine down. When she landed Kraex had already scouted ahead pressed against the wall. Two drow patrolled the hallway and despite Kraex’s attempt to remain hidden their eyes were too sharp and they instantly charged. One was a priest of some kind and summoned minions from the nether with the swirl of his hand and the call of his voice. Each call brought a roaring rush of wind and a smoky cloud of black smoke. Kraex was well aware and prepared when the ravenous imps jetted out of the darkness hell-bent on his destruction with claws flailing.

The native smirk of an orc in battle when facing an inferior opponent emerged as time slowed to a crawl for Kraex. He immediately noticed that the imps’ charge was not in unison. Before the first one could even put a claw to his armor Kraex swung his axe with a wild backward then upward whirl. The shear force of the blow lifted the loathsome creature into the air as half his knobby face split vertically. With a roar Kraex lifted his shield and batted the bleeding corpse forward. Like pins the remaining imps crumbled to the ground and before any of them could counter Kraex ended their miserable existence.

The drow priest’s eyes narrowed as he kept his distance to summon more imps. Meanwhile his companion, the drow warrior, was bearing down on Kraex with a massive warhammer. Putting a foot to the last fallen imp’s chest he boar down to give leverage and yanked his axe free from the skull just in time to semi-parry the drow’s attack. His shield covered the rest of the blow, as he instinctively knew his axe would not be enough to absorb the heavy two-handed hammer. Even with his timely defense the force was enough to knock Kraex back slightly with a grunt. Drows were fast, but Kraex was faster and before the drow could draw his hammer back two horizontal swipes landed across his chestplate from Kraex’s axe.

The drow moaned but did not retreat, they never did. The ashened warrior fought Kraex with all his might and if he faced a lesser foe he would have been victorious. As it were he lost both arms to the orc before his impish reinforcements backed him. All there was left for him to do was bleed and curse as he watched another wave of his brethren’s imps fall and then soon there after his priest. Kraex was cruel in battle and utterly savage. He never fully killed foes such as drow for he despised their very existence. Instead he just left them bleeding to die slowly and painfully. These drow were no different as he casually walked away letting Josephine trail along to end their pain.

She killed each effectively with the tip of her dagger and eventually caught up with the orc as he reckoned the next room. Kraex informed her there were two archers. Out of all the foes in the land these drow archers proved to be the most difficult and dangerous to face. Nevertheless using superior tactics the Blademaiden and the Raider ended the skirmish victoriously. The small win was cut short immediately, however, with a raging storm of screeches and commanding voices echoed from the next hallway. Kraex had been here numerous times and not once had he ever heard such a rousing noise.

The Cadomyrian scout’s suspicions were now confirmed, these drow were up to something. By the sound of it they had a small war party formed. Kraex and Josephine carefully crept forward to gauge the situation. When they finally reached the end of the hall and peaked into the open shrine room there was nothing but drow and imps to be seen. Kraex was half ready to order a retreat when something bloody caught his unrivaled eye. It wasn’t black like the drows or imps but crimson and fresh. Through a hole in the table that tried to block his view he saw a familiar lizard’s fin. It was S’rrt’s fin and of that Kraex was sure. He quickly whispered to Josephine what they were going to do and she reacted like a good soldier.

With perfect timing Josephine dashed to secure S’rrt’s fallen position and Kraex barred both doors with a drow war-hammer. After verifying its security and hearing the outrage from inside he fell back to check on S’rrt. At first Kraex thought he was dead but as Josephine coaxed him a bit there was movement. Kraex breathed a sigh of relief but knew he probably wouldn’t last long and there was no time to waste. He barked an order at Josephine to protect him and dashed toward the door.

He had the life saver tucked in his belt but knew opening the book in a confined space could ruin their chances at keeping S’rrt alive should the portal open in a crack in the wall. The only option was to clear the shrine. The task wouldn’t be easy but he had to do whatever it took to keep S’rrt alive even if it meant losing his own life in the process. Without even a thought he unbarred the first door and immediately hopped back as two imps tried to push through. Both were quickly beheaded in one flail swoop. Their kin screeched with anger, but could not overtake the room as Kraex charged them with his shield lowered. His barbaric strength was enough to knock a whole group of them off-guard.

They wouldn’t pass as Kraex stood in the doorway blocking and chopping with bloodlust in his eyes. Bodies piled, moans echoed, and the forward guard of drow minions was decimated. It was now up to the drow to try and stop this warmongering orc. They had the numbers but Kraex had the defensive position to keep them from overwhelming him. Two leaders, two priests, and two drow warriors faced this lone orc. Kraex taunted them with a bloodcurdling roar. One leader yelled at the priests in their elven dialect while the other raced at Kraex with two drow warriors flanking him.

Kraex narrowed his eyes watching the three as they came and instead of doing the thinkable of remaining still behind the narrow gapped door he charged himself. For a moment the drow leader looked confused but recovered his bane resolutely. Kraex came right at the leader and parried his clumsy two-handed sword pinning it against a crevice in his axe as he rotated his wrist just right. Now with control of the drow’s sword he smirked with triumph as he careened the blade straight and true into the gut of his adjacent companion. The drow all screamed with anger and the ones not in the fray watched him fall with horror in their faces. The engaged leader’s second wing hurled a wild blow at Kraex with his hammer only to have it glance harmlessly off Kraex’s cloud shield.

The leader of the drow yanked the hilt of his sword just as Kraex rotated his wrist just right again to free the blade. This sent the leader off balance but did not send him falling. It did, however, give Kraex enough time to fully focus on the warrior and land two crisscrossing strikes against either shoulder. The leader was faster than Kraex anticipated and was just barely able to turn and feint to avoid a mortal blow. Blood gushed from Kraex’s bicep and he let a roar unfurl. The wound was merely flesh deep and in the adrenaline rush caused him no pain. They were going to try and deliver a timed attack against Kraex, but the orc missed nothing on the battlefield, even the slightest idiosyncrasies. Kraex hopped back perfectly avoiding both weapons and then delivered his axe savagely into the drow warrior’s chest.

Just him and the leader now from the first group but behind him the priests were sending their minions. Kraex circled a bit ready to take on the leader and whatever was coming. The leader in his rage came first with a high arching blow only to have it rebound against Kraex’s shield. The orc lowered himself and pressed hard with his feet dashing passed the drow with a slash to his hip. The leader whirled with a hop and Kraex sensed his weakness and sprinted back toward him. This time both landed a blow but Kraex’s was fatal and the leader collapsed with a gushing neck. Imps surrounded the now wounded orc thirsty for his blood.

He spit but no blood came forth, which was a good thing. The imps charged all at once this time but Kraex twirled with his shield and axe extended in a wild desperate maneuver. He knocked several away and killed a couple others. Two imps made it passed and were on him trying to find flesh. He grunted and hurled his shield at a recovering imp splitting its head wide open. With his axe two swipes killed the lot still surrounding him. With his free hand he reached for the weak creatures biting and clawing on his back and found their head. Using his brute force and power he crushed both of their heads, one at a time, then tossed them gruffly against the nearest wall.

Still fully away of his position Kraex’s keen yellow eyes found what was left of the previously formidable war party. Just three left out of something fifty or so at the start. The priests scrambled to summon more reinforcements but it wouldn’t be in time as the orc was already charging them with axe held high. The leader, nowhere near the caliber of the last or overcome with fear, proved no contest. He got a mere two slashes in before Kraex had his head rolling. The priests wailed in their native language and couldn’t summon nearly enough minions to challenge the bloodthirsty orc who quickly dismembered their arms and left them crying in pain as he turned toward the center of the room.

Covered in thick black blood and only a bit of his own, crimson, Kraex casually slipped his axe into the leather loop at his hip and then dislodged his thrown shield to strap it to his back. The test was true and Kraex breathed with anguish now that the adrenaline was seeping away. Knowing that time was of the essence he promptly snatched the book tucked in a leather pouch on his belt and opened it. When he pressed his bloody gauntlet to seemingly empty pages and uttered Cadomyr a swirling magical portal erupted with the welcoming sands just feet away. Kraex called and went to help his wounded comrade to the portal. Soon they were back beneath the safety of the citadel with a new challenge of fixing S’rrt up, but that would prove far less strenuous of an endeavor.
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themonk
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Re: The billow of a crimson cloak

Post by themonk »

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Just standing outside the gates of Cadomyr, Gurk flicks his elongated tongue out tasting the breeze coming from the Hammerfall Keep. Picking up the scent and flavour of beer and sweat he decided to investigate. Led by a curious notion after missing the battle that took place there, he took long strides assisted by his walking staff to get there quicker.

As he approached the keep stepping over decomposed dwarf skirmishers and rusty weapons. the scent got stronger but he could hear nothing. Rubbing his dull reptilian eyes and squinting heavily he could just make out a small squad of dwarves ahead.

Many dwarves were seemingly packing bags with food and belongings then heading further north up the mountain. As Gurk moved a few yards closer he was spotted by an archer above the main gate.
Completely unaware of the archer Gurk felt a sharp sensation on the thick part of his tail, grunting he dropped his walking staff and slipped his shield from his back tucking his large frame as best he could behind it.
Gurk peered over his broad shoulder squinting again noticing the embedded arrow. As quick as his old legs could move him he leaped behind a boulder for cover.

Shortly after the arrow was fired a small party of dwarves followed. Picking up the scent Gurk unsheathed his gilded sword waiting patiently with his useless eyes closed. As the first dwarf peered around the boulder Gurk decapitated him, the others fell soon after. Opening his eyes trying to focus on the slain, Gurk observed these dwarves were not dressed as soldiers but rather bandits with mismatched armour and plundered randomised items on their belts and in their bags.

Hissing angrily at the passing arrows Gurk retreated from the keep back towards the battle ground. Confused that he wasn't followed and suspicious he could still taste and smell dwarf in the atmosphere he paused and tried his best to listen. His shrivelled up ear holes twitched a little as some rocks from the mountain edge rolled to the ground tapping at his large clawed feet. Closing his eyes again he clutched his shield and swung it aggressively upwards knocking a leaping dwarf several metres in the air landing most unfortunately impaled on a spear embedding on the battleground.
Even with his poor hearing Gurk could pin point the battle cries of aggression that sounded like a squad of dwarves charging and leaping towards him. Growling as one after the other grabbed hold of his broad arms and muscular leg. Piling on top of Gurk must of been ten rogue dwarves stabbing at his sulkamarian armour. In a state of rage he tightened his clawed feet into the sand then sprung himself to his feet roaring as he bucked them off him.

Luckily with minor injuries and an arrow in the tail Gurk Fled back to Cadomyr, Dwarves halting their advance as he got closer to his home. Stumbling through the gates bleeding little he lay down and licked his wounds.
Before he closed his old eyes to sleep he muttered to himself why the dwarves are still attacking citizens even after they were beaten by the queen's soldiers.
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themonk
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Re: The billow of a crimson cloak

Post by themonk »

LOST PAULDRON SETTLEMENT DISCOVERED
35553589001_1957078167001_ari-origin29-arc-155-1352424620934[1]pauldron.jpg
35553589001_1957078167001_ari-origin29-arc-155-1352424620934[1]pauldron.jpg (38.25 KiB) Viewed 2147 times

The cool breeze blowing through the northern forest naldar tree branches make Gurk's old worn scales tingle. As a Cadomyrian he sighs with a relaxed tone welcoming the cold air.
Adjusting his salkmarian armour and supporting his strides with his powerless staff he makes his way east from the northern forest passing the marshlands to the southeast. Shutting his dull eyes and trying to hear his surroundings whilst flicking out his elongated tongue to sense anything out of the ordinary up yonder.

A musty rotten taste and stench came from the far east sucked through Gurk's super attuned nostrils drifting down across his salivated tongue. He opened his dull reptilian eyes and marched forth until he approached a ruined house. Looking around the destroyed exterior he focused on a small marked stone. Gurk knelt down stroking his giant claw over the stones red markings. In haste he looked over his broad shoulder before rustling through his leather bag. Pulling out a parchment, he ticked off another exploration stone.

Standing back up straight reaching his 8ft posture Gurk rolls his hefty shoulders and turns towards the foul stench he could taste in the back of his throat. A breeze hits him, the once cool tingle on his withered scales now felt warm and radiant. He couldn't see much due to the strong glare of the coastal sun, never the less he strolled on across a rickety wooden bridge to a warmer sandy surface. Gripping the sand between his clawed toes he thought he'd took a wrong turn ending up back home in Cadomyr.

The undead smell became more apparent as he walked past many more ruined homes with skeletons of the slain still laying in their beds. Passing through a chilling graveyard to more ruined homes and a shrine Gurk could finally see a small undead army of Demons, Lich, Undead Kings and Walking Dead citizens. Cursing his bad eyesight for bringing him too close for comfort, he fought his way back into the grave yard slamming the gates shut behind him.

As Gurk expected his safety was short lived as undead with and without flesh burst there way out their coffins and graves fixated on him. Gurk waded his way through the limping weaker few making his exit out the opposite end of the graveyard. Knocked back by a ambushing undead king he quickly got back on his aching clawed feet charging for the wooden bridge back to the northern woods.

(( the music in that area is really good :) ))
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