Blood for the Abyss

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Malkath Demonfury, flanked by his half brothers, Darran the Ravager and Celbrieth Hellsbane, approached the walls of Sunglow, he could see Mayor Greendale on the outerwall looking back at him; Malkath would feast on Mayor Greendale's flesh for taking advantage of Abbazoth's good will.

"I am aware of what you have done Mayor Greendale and neither my father nor myself are pleased with what you have done. We gave you those days to think over whether you wanted to spare your town or whether you wanted my Nergaz and their orcs to tear your city apart brick by brick and your people apart limb by limb. You have chosen the latter choice with your actions Mayor Greendale, we shall set aside diplomacy and turn to brute strength to get what we need from you. Those who have come to your aid will be no more then additional blood to despoil the earth."

Darran, the cambion who was almost beautiful, turned to Malkath, "It is better this way my brother, there is an angel in that town and I want her, to pollute her with my seed, a son both of tanar'ri and celestial blood, the fall of an angel."

Celbrieth, the cambion who was almost delicate cast a glace of spite Darran's way, "That Astral Deva is the only reason our father decided he would rather not take the city by force until we have what we need. For that she will die, I will not tolerate her strength giving those dead fools with those walls the courage to defy us."

"Save your anger for the forces of good Celbrieth, I am sure you can both have what you want when Sunglow has become the eternal sunset."

Mayor Greendale watched as the three cambions lept into the air on leathery wings and flew off into the west where the Balor Abbazoth resided. Mayor Greendale was surprized that the Tanar'ri beseiging the town had actually given him so much time as he had though it to be a ploy by the demons who he knew would never hold to their word that they would spare the town if he gave them what they had wanted.

"Mayor, get down from the wall! The orcs will began the seige any moment!", said Alan Hendal, captain of Sunglow's guards.

Sure enough, Orcs where moving ladders towards the wall and a battering ram towards the game.

"Mayor! Come now!"

Mayor Greendale hurried down off the wall, as orcish arrows began to fly his way.

"I wish I could do something to help Sunglow, I feel so helpless as a politician."

If you really want to help, keep yourself safe, you need you to steer us through this just as much as we need the guards, adventurers and mercenaries on the wall. It's a soldier's place to die, but a leader to live for his people."

Alan took Mayor Greendale through the innerwalls toward the keep as the first ladders of the seige touched the outerwalls.

 

Skiffle Nutbunny tinkered with her trusty set of lockpicks, loving the sound of tumblers clicking into place. This locked door had bothered her for *ages* and now, thanks to her father, she has just the right tool to crack it wide open.

*snick* The gnome let herself have a quiet chuckle as the lock sprang silently open. Thrusting her small chest out proudly, she jerked open the door and let her eyes gaze upon

an orc

with orcs behind it

"Eep," she squeaked and slammed the door shut, throwing her slight weight against it. Quickly, she relocked the mechanism. "Uh oh. Forgot something." She undid her work, yanked open the door again and shocked the orcs into stopping their seiging for a moment. "Pardon me, but you have something of mine," she happily cooed at them in their own language. Her deft and nimble fingers plucked the jingling purse of coins from the front orc's shaggy belt. "Thank you for your generous donation to the Nutbunny School for Wayward Metals. Bye-eee!"

Relocking once more, Skiffle hurried out of the building and back to the relative safety of the impending invasion.

 

Valnar looked round the city it was preparing for war probably not a good time to be here, but the trail led here or maybe through; he’d been the best tracker in his village, able to track down white bears over the ice, few were that skilled. He didn’t want to think about that now it wouldn’t help him here, ok he was in a city about to be attacked, his choices were flee and he could pick up the trail later. He could stay somewhere neutral and out of the fight and then pick up the trail, but where was that going to be; from what he’d seen and heard nowhere was going to be particularly safe if the city lost. He could fight but only for the city he wouldn’t fight with Orcs and other things, besides there should be some coin in it for him (he was running low); and maybe, just maybe some information about the trail.

He decided to fight for the city, but where to start?

 

Orianna sighed, it was rather foolish of her to walk the planes with no knowledge of the planes, her current situation was a perfect example of this.

She had arrived in Sunglow several days ago though a planar conduit, only to find herself stuck within the city and with no idea where the nearest gateway was. Failing to control her overwhelming emotions often put her in these sort of situations but the aasimar was far too intriguing to simply let vanish from her life after such a short period of time. It was quite apparent that her attempt to follow him had failed as she hid herself in on of the many abandoned buildings between the outerwall and the innerwall.

Orianna dared not stand on the actual outerwall, she was quite aware that a shot from an orcish long bow had a good chance to kill or near kill her in one hit. Once the orcs entered the city however, she would be able to use her magic while taking cover and hiding within the buildings of the city.

 

Soren Trueblood stepped through the portal and took his first look around the city. It matched the other cities he'd seen before, with one vital difference. This city was under siege. Through the streets swarmed multitudes of guards and soldiers, and as he moved forward to join them, a hand dropped to his shoulder, and he turned to see a scarred soldier give him a grim smile, which faded when he saw Soren's features, and realised who, and more importantly what, he was.

"Apologies, my lord Paladin, but you must report to the Temple. All clerics and holy warriors are required to report to Lady Galla."

Soren nodded, and thanked the man. He needn't ask where the Temple was, it's spire raised high above the roofs of the buildings around it, and it shone in the sun. He made his way to it, and was quietly impressed when he entered it. He looked down at himself, and smiled as he saw his white clothes low over his armour. It remindedhim of home. Still, all thoughts of home were thrust aside when he saw the figure at the other end of the hall.

He was tall, but this woman had at least 6 inches on his 6 foot 4. She was stunningly beautiful too, and he knew just from looking at her exactly what she was. Astral Deva.
She was beautiful. Actually, he thought, beautiful was too weak a word, but he could think of nothing better. He stood for a moment just staring, until she turned to notice him, and smiling, waved him over.
He remembered who and what he was, and strode over, his pace showing a confidence he didn't feel. He'd spent his early life amongst outsiders such as she, but this deva was beyong any other his childish memories could show.

He approached, and her smile widened.
"Greetings, kinsman. I am Galla" She offered a hand.
Soren smiled almost shyly back at her, and took the offered hand, shaking it and replying "I am Soren Trueblood, of Heironeous the Invincible."
She pointed to the greatsword strapped to his back. "Have youcome to answer the call?"
He nodded, his face serious now. "Aye. I heard the call from the planes, and have come to answer."
She nodded back to him, and turned, motioning for hm to follow her deeper into the temple.

 

Ja'a'la stood on the battlements prepared and waiting for the attack. She had heard the call for defenders and answered. Her motives were simple; there was evil to be fought.

Although in the frontline of the coming battle she was more confortable on the outter city walls. Cities made her feel closed in, out of touch with nature.

 

"I feel that one of your heritage and station must be made aware of the gravity of this situation and I know I can trust you to keep what I tell you private.", said the astral deva, "These tanar'ri, as I am sure you become aware, are not merely here for slaughter but have come at the beckon of a prophesy spawned before even my birth within the depths of the Abyss, spoken by the corrupted lips of a dying human seer who sold his soul to the tanar'ri for power while his life was still strong."

The astral deva turned her head hearing the sounds of battle on the outerwall.

"Come back later my Paladin, there is much more you must know, but first I need you as my champion on the wall, inspire those who serve my beloved town while I must remain here. May Pelor's light shine true upon you my hero. Remember, speak not of even the little I have told you, there are those among the city who would try to use such information to their own advantage."

The astral deva laid her hand upon the aasimar's head to give him her own blessing, running the spell Aid through his body.

"Now go good paladin and return safely to me at the battle's end."

 

Juerson hopped out of the swirling black portal, he fell to the ground with a roll and stood up quickly. Smoke was in the air and men were afraid around him. A siege it must be, Jeurson cursed and dove at the portal which would bring him back to his city, but like a brick wall it stopped him dead in his tracks. Juerson was now afraid he hated battles face to face and wanted nothing to do with the wars of men and elves. He scurried around looking for others portals but none would let him pass. He yelled curses at them and skulked off. He came to a sewer hatch and sprang down into the river of filth. He plugged his nose against the smell and ploded on. He had to get out. He came to a gate locked and sealed by magical wards. He quickly got out of the sewers and made for the walls. He hid behind some barrels as a groupe of men ran by, he followed them at a distance hiding in the shadows. On the walls a battle was taking place, orcs were piling up ladders and men were fighting them off. Jeurson ran under some legs and reached an orchish ladder. When a gap in the orcs came he leapt on the ladder and fliiped under it, and started to climb down. The orcs so bent on the walls didn't notice the halfling crawl down on the other side of the ladder. Jeurson made the bottom and pressed against the wall so that its shadow hid him. He ran always in the shadow away from the battle and where te orcs were few. He then took the chance and sprinted ducking behind barrels and the such all the way to the tree line. In the shadow of the trees Juerson sighed and relaxed and finaly took the time to look around, then it hit him. " Where was he?" Jeurson could be in a different world for he knew. He realized the only way back to his home was in the city he just escaped.

 

Soren felt the spell flow through his body, and knew it for what it was. "My thanks, Lady. I shall do as you ask."
He rose, and strode purposely from the temple, and made his way to the City Walls, where hebounded up the stairs, and searched for someone knowledgable amidst the chaos of the defending troops. He spotted someone barking orders, and the manner and voice of the human spoke volumes about his station.
"Sergeant, situation?" Soren barked in his best parade-ground voice. Sergeants respected loud voices.
The human turned to him, and saluted briefly, before ducking as an arrow sped past him.
"The assault has begun anew, sir, and an attempt on the walls is imminent. Any help would be appreciated."

Soren drew his greatsword, and smiled grimly as the next arrow bounced from the end as he lowered it.
"Help comes, but do not rely on it. Trust in yourself, and your comrades. Our cause is just, and we shall prevail."
He could almost her his mother's approval of his words as he stepped forward and peaked over the parapet.
Orcs were coming. Many orcs. Many many orcs. He gulped, and tightened the grip on his sword, not letting the worry show. He was a paladin, and an aasimar. Good incarnate. He would not flag, the men looked to him for inspiration.

"Will we cower, like dogs, silently whimpering? Give them a cheer, today we shall fight well!"
The roar that followed his words lifted his heart higher than any words could. He would do the deva proud today, for the Good.

 

Silviras flew through the clouds, not looking down, soaring on the changes in temperature. He spotted the town of Sunglow, its walls covered in something black.

He flew closer to see what was up and then was shocked to see that the Black was Orcs! And lots of them! He dodged an Orcish arrow as it whizzed by him, and he flew over the city, diving for safety.

He pulled up just before the ground and landed, dust exploding out from underneath him. The people rushing by didn't seem to notice the winged sea elf. He walked towards people, but again they didn't notice. He shrugged and looked around. He noticed a large spire poking through the smoke a hop-skip-and-a-jump away. He decided to go there.

He walked up to the huge doors and quietly pushed them open. He noticed a very tall, graceful, almost heavenly woman standing at the end of the hall, poring over some scrolls and tomes.

He approached her cautiously, and said timidly, "Excuse me? Are you in charge here?"

 

Skiffle wandered at purpose through the congested streets of Sunglow. She saw holy warriors and clerics pouring to the battlements. A pair eyed her and she gulped, wishing herself smaller. They were not being deterred and she was still three feet short. "Blast it," she murmured, tumbling under a a sea of legs.

With partial cover, she worked her way away from the shanghaiers. Sunglow might be home, but home ain't worth dying for. Material possessions can be replaced. Cities rebuilt. Skiffle Nutbunnies were only good for one go around. "Shurtle turtle, they don't give up!" A paladin was now on her tail.

Quick as her namesake, Skiffle bolted to her feet and up a flight of stone steps. Pausing, she heard no one behind her, although up ahead...

'Curiosity killed the cat...and the gnome chasing after it.' her grandfather once said about her grandmother, who died after following her pet cat into a dire rat's nest.

Skiffle tried the door, finding it unlocked. She pushed it open gingerly. She was on one of the battlement towers overlooking the outer wall of the city. Waves of orcs were crashing against the stout walls. Sighing, she pulled out her shortbow and notched an arrow. "Looks like it's going to be one of those days."

 

As the first orc reached the top of the ladder, Soren kicked it back, sending the ladder tumbling down into the masses below. To his left, another creature poked his head over the parapet, and the edge of the paladin's sword removed it before he got any further. Around him, the soldiers of the city were fighting like the embodiments of courage, and he heard the sergeant start a battle hymn, and before long the entire group were bellowing it out, moving blade and hammer in time to the song, in a dance that would put most courts to shame. An arrow arced over his shoulder, slaying his opponent and in the brief respite, SOren looked to see a gnomish woman feverishly reloading her bow. He cried out his thanks, and returned to the fray, shuddering as an axe slid along the arm of his plate, leaving scratches it would take hours to get rid of. The sergeant beside him gutted the orc, and Soren shoulder-barged it from the walls, before ducking another blade. And so the fight continued...

 

Valnar moved towards the walls where he could hear the sounds of fighting reaching a tower he climbed up, he pulled his coif securely over his head and exited onto the top of the tower. A gnome was firing arrows into the orcs and had some moving in behind her moving swiftly he cut them down axe and shield moving in concert. The rhythm of battle held him now orcs came at him but his axe cut them down and his shield held them off while he protected the gnome archer.

 

Galla looked over at the Avariel who had entered her temple.

"In charge of this temple, yes, incharge of the spiritual well being of Sunglow, yes, but I do not rule this town or it's military, nor have I the gold which so many humans require to serve. If you wish to be of service, Child of the First Flowering, aid those on the outerwall in defense of the city and after the orcs have been taken care of speak to Mayor Greendale, I am sure he will be more then happy to see to whatever charge you require for your service."

 

Ja'a'la fired arrow after arrow into the seething mass of orcs. There was no way to tell what damage she did as hundreds of arrows took their toll but it didn't matter. She heard the battle hymn and gave a quick glance to the paladin leading her section. "Good! A paladin", she thought. Having one such as he affirmed that her descion to fight for the city was right.

With the orcs rushing the walls her attention was focused on the battle. Strangely all was right in her world and she happily rapidly fired off arrow after arrow.

 

"I thank you my Lady, and I shall do as you say," He bowed, and proceeded to the wall.

 

Valis stood in the small window of the house he had broken into. He knew the battle was takeing place and wanted to help, but was unsure of how the people of this city would react to a drow. Even though he was seemingly surround by celestial beings and people with the blood of fiends or angels, he was still a drow, and would most likely be persecuted.

After a few minutes of aruging with himself, he sprinted towards the all.

Not looking for a ladder, he climbed the wall with ease, useing natural footholds and handholds. With an acrobatic flip, he landed on his feet, next to a god of a paladin. "Perfect" thought the drow "not only am I enough of a target for harrassment, but I had to choose the only person who might garner more attention than myself to fight next to."

Drawing his scimitars, the drow rushed hard to Sorens side. He huge warrior could handle himself, but he might need help with the growing throng of invades. Slashing down an orc, the drow stood back to back with Soren useing him as protection from behind as much as Valis was protecting Soren from attacks from behind.

 

"Thanks, blondie," she called in Common to the huge Tall cleaving orcs with his axe.

In Orcish, she taunted her targets with various insults:
"Your father has both eyes!"
"Your sister eats with a fork!"
"Why do you smell like soap?"
"Fancy-pants cup-user!"
"Your mother is an elf!"
"Those fleas are trained!"
"Weakling scum!" She whispered to the blond, switching to Common easily, "They can't all be funny, ya know."

She noted her kills and doubled them, eagerly embelishing her tale of heroics for the family feast this eve.

 

When Culculna had crested the rise that overlooked Sunglow, he had thought that mabye, just mabye, he had found a home at long last. He had slipped past the guards at the gate appearing human thanks to his Disguise Self spell; no need to bring unwanted attention from the start. After that, he had rented a inconspicous room in a cheap inn, wondering how best to overcome the prejudice he was sure to face.

Then the Orcs came.
They spilled towards the city, a tide of metal and fury. Seeing them from his perch on the inner wall, Culculna cursed them, and orcs in particular, the lousy scourge upon the earth. He knew that to fight them would put him in danger of being seen and misjudged by an ignorant soldier, or some self-rightous Paladin. Still, he had no choice-Orcs had earned his eternal enmity. Inspiring his own courage by reciting under his breath a poem speaking of the bravity of a tough sea captain who bested both the misguided law of the land and a rampant plague of pirates, and quafing a potion of invisibility, Culculna hurried to the Outer Wall to join the fray. Making his way towards where the burgeoning battle seemed the thickest, he unsheathed his blade and felled an orc, catching him unaware. This however, had the drawback of revealing him. A soldier nearby took notice of his dark skin, and shouted:
"DROW!" Culculna glanced in the soldiers direction. This did not bode well.

[ February 10, 2006, 08:16: Message edited by: deepfae ]

 

The orcs were not overrunning the wall as quickly as Orianna thought they would, she was beginning to feel guilt rise in her chest, her attempt to protect herself was surely coming at the expense of others. Orianna began to feel her Tanar'ric taint boil through her veins as the smell of blood engorged her nostrils, she felt the demon in her desire to assert its strength over the chaotic evil orcs, creatures who, much like her particular outsider kin, responded almost solely to strength.

As Orianna moved silently to the West Gate where the fighting was the most intense, she overheard a group of soldiers running to the northern end of Sunglow.

"They've breached the gate, we must hurry or they'll trap and massacre those on the wall!"

So the Northern Gate, the least travelled gate which led to dense primeval forests and to great snow capped mountains past the forests, had fallen to the orcs. Orianna made her way to the North Gate as quickly as possible, darting from building to building, trying to stay hidden, but at the same time not loose speed. When Orianna arrived at the Northern Gates, hidden within a ruined building, she spotted a large group of orcs milling around, led by a Nergaz who was trying his best to figure out how he wanted to proceed into the city, Orianna perfered the Nergaz not come to a solution about what to do. Orianna spoke the few short words and made the few short gestures needed for the spell Charm Person and immediately she knew the Nergaz now thought of her as a friend.

"Dear friend, I fear your fellow orcs are planning to betray you, I've been watching you and your group as they entered the city and can plainly see that cords of discord sown in them. Your life is in grave danger if you don't act against them... I could help you defeat them if you wish... Our Tanar'ri blood is a bond stronger then their orcish blood and yours could ever be.", bluffed Orianna in the Abyssal tongue in order that the orcs could not understand her.

The orcs stood there watching the Tiefling who had emerged from a nearby building, confused as to why their leader took not action against the tiefling. They became even more confused as their leader shouted something in a language they had often heard the cambion brothers speak to each other.

"That's my kinsman.", purred Orianna has the nergaz planted his greataxe into the skulls of one of his orcish followers.