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[3man75]

Bump.

[kahn1234]

((SOrry! Busy few days. Will try to get the General's and Balaroh's updates up tomorrow!))

[kahn1234]

((Planning done. Will finish the updates tomorrow. Only had time for planning today.....

I have to pack so much into my weekends as my jobs hours take up so much time.

Sorry for the delay. Please do not forget to post ideas for what Ala'tirn could be doing so that I may further flesh out the new posts.))

[3man75]

Bumpy

[kahn1234]

((Sorry....life got in the way...again.

I promise I will have the generals update out tomorrow. Then Balarohs turn on Thursday.

Sorry to keep delaying.))

[kahn1234]

((And now, for more! Sorry it isn't as long as I promised, I had to re-plan several parts, which took up time, and I ran out of time to write the update before I had to go to bed.))

Through the eyes of the General......

General Whelmere Oltorin looked over the battle reports, casting a cold, calcualating eye over the proceedings of the battle for the last remaining Atrian fortification in the region. The army he had sent had failed to take it. Which, his sharp mind deduced, means there are more men there than just a simple skeleton crew.

'And' He thought, his frown deepening, 'It is also the most likely place my little prize has escaped to.....How my guards didn't realise there was a Ranger amongst them, I'll never know.....' He sighs, shaking his head as he contemplates for the hundredth time how useless his current troops were.

His thoughts, however, were interrupted by a brain-jarringly loud bang as yet another of his useless men barged into his room with all the grace of a drunk elephant. He frowned even deeper. It had taken the carpenter two days to replace that door the last time Fergil broke it. "Yes, Fergil, what have you come to report? You have already supplied me with the field reports from the failed...." he pauses, glaring at the commander who led the assault, who he has chained to the wall, cowering to his left "siege attempt on that half built mound known as a fort. Unless this is to do with my lost property or the Ranger who somehow managed to waltz into my city and take her straight out to freedom, then I do not want to hear it. I am a busy man and I have another siege to plan."

"General!" The short, thickly set man said, saluting him with the usual clansman salute. "The scouts have just reported that two cloaked people entered the fort yesterday evening. One was obviously an Atrian ranger, as per your description, and the other was definitely a female. Although she looked a bit short for a high elf, sir....."

Whelmere turns, a look of agitation evident, his fists clenching and releasing in a rare display of annoyance.

"And you look short for a human." The General countered, not bothering to conceal his sense of frustration. "Send word to the scouts to maintain their watch. I want to know everything there is to know about that fortification, and the daily goings on. And, once I am ready, I will take that infernal fort and in doing so, I will return what is rightfully mine to my side!" He glances to his left, to where his two remaining high elven pets work patiently, looks of happiness on their face as they busy themselves with preparing his dinner.

They notice him looking and both give a deferential nod and a smile before returning to their work.

Fergil, still saluting, starts speaking again. Or, as Whelmere prefers to call it, loudly shouting. "SIR! Permission to lead next attack on the fort! I want to show those traitorous dogs the sharp end of my blade, SIR!"

"Denied" The General responds immediately, still calmly watching his elves work. Glancing towards the commander, he surpresses his urge to laugh as the commander seems to visibly deflate. "I will lead the next attack myself. Ready the men for inspection. I want to see if these worthless peons are worth my time......"

~~~An hour later~~~

General Whelmere stands proudly in his armour on the stage set up at the front of the parade ground. Spread out before him are one thousand, six hundred and thirty men from the city and the surrounding countryside, mostly professional soldiers from this Clanlands army. 'Better already than the mercenaries and rabble I sent against the fort before. Despite outnumbering the defenders, they lost. Now it is time for a more skilled approach.....' Whelmere thought coldly, a small, cruel smile pulling at his lips as he thinks of his tactics and strategies.

As he watched the troops perform drills and generally prepare for battle, he notices an unexpected group enter the parade grounds, making a bee line straight for him. He subconsciously shifts into a prepared stance, his left hand moving casually to his sword pommel.

However, when the strangers got closer, he realised he had nothing to fear, at least not from the man leading the little party.

The tall, gaunt looking man in the long black cloak leading the party removed his hood, displaying a somewhat handsome, if pale, face framed by long hair. His smile was surprisingly friendly, however. This did not fool the General. It was obvious what this man was. A Flesh-smith. And the Generals face fell as he realised what the man was coming to deliver.

The Generals stomach turned. He had never much liked the darker side to the Atlovan people. He was never comfortable with the practices performed by the flesh-smiths. He suppressed a shudder as he imagined what awaited the Generals inspection.

"Ah, General. Inspecting the men?" The General let the question hang in the air. Unphased, the flesh-smith carried on. "A fine force you have, but I know just what would make this a fort-taking force. I just so happen to have 300 Shkahl, 13 Void Striders and a mind-locked dark elf."

"And what if i refuse your....generous....offer?" Whelmere responds, trying and failing to keep the disgust out of his voice. 'I would rather mate with a cactus than have those abominations in my army. The elf might be useful.'

The flesh-smiths smile never wavered. "Well, you would be making The One We Fear rather unhappy you refused his gift. After he heard of your recent failures, he was so sympathetic to your plight that he just had to send these troops to assist. Please, wont you reconsider?"

'I have decided that I really rather dislike this man' Whelmere sighs, and nods. "Fine, I will accept this gift of aid from our revered leader. They will most certainly be useful in the coming battle, I am sure....." The General turns to leave, only to be stopped by the flesh-smith.

"But sir! You have not yet accepted them! You have to perform the transition rite so that they listen to your commands. After all, you do not want 314 deadly creatures running amok through your ranks at the least opportune moment, now, do you?" The flesh-smith says, still smiling that infernal smile.

Whelmere turns towards the flesh-smith. 'One day, I am going to torture him until that infernal smile leaves his face. And I will enjoy it.' Inwardly, the General is fuming, hatred barely concealed roiled beneath the surface of his skin, his inner Demonic drive itching to tear the man limb from limb. Iron discipline, a healthy respect for his superiors and their admiration and idolisation of the flesh-smiths stayed his hand, however.

'Let them push me about, let them undermine me. For now. Everything comes to an end, and I have heard the song of the Seeker. And its song does not mention the Atlovan Hierarchy in its current form...' He smiles, a genuinely happy smile. 'Their time is numbered, and an ambitious man can achieve much.....' Now it was the Generals turn to smile, as he prepares on the raised platform in front of his men to accept the abominations as part of a demonic rite. He chuckles to himself quietly. 'Oh yes, everything ends.....And I will be there to rise from the ashes'.


To be continued!


((As Always, critique welcomed. I have tried to make him more human, and inject some humour in to it.

Tomorrow, Balaroh! And some background exposition and in-world global reactions to the growing turmoil in Feritul.

And, again, sorry. This was supposed to be much more detailed and longer, but i ran out of time......))

[3man75]

I think my original plan to help our allies go out for help is very much recommended. We can leave with them OR we can stay and assassinate officers or cause a rebellion with in this region. We should also ask our Ranger friend about the General and any help he may have. If he can get Orcs and fey's on his side then surely he has allies somewhere right?

((GM could you describe the fort and it's surroundings? The one in the picture shows me a mountainous region but i want to be sure.))

[kahn1234]

((As the picture suggests, the fort is designed as such. It has thick walls, but few towers and the bridge between the main keep and the bailey has less protection than would be preferred.

The surroundings are not as mountainous as they appear in the picture, but they are still rather hilly and rocky. Difficult terrain to attack on but far from impossible. It would slow down an enemy, not stop them.))

[Carp its whats for dinner]

Wow, that was awesome.

I suggest the main character do a few assassinations among enemy leaders.

Will there eventually be an exposition post to explain what the different races and monsters are, along with
 statements of stuff like the flesh-crafters?

[kahn1234]

((I was going to do that tomorrow. Busy Saturday .

Also, maybe waiting for more input from the regulars?

And also, could someone maybe detail what type of assassinations they want? Stealthy all the way or more showy?))

[3man75]

Shadowy assassinations and very quite. But make sure they are particularly gruesome like melting there faces or decapitation. When soldiers find there commanders mutilated they'll run the rumor mill. Then they'll slowly ditch the army without leadership to watch over them.

Only get showy when we need to scatter a group of hardened people soldiers. In that case just super fire ball there camp when sleeping or bury them in a rock slide. An when we do so, do it with something covering our face to make us look menacingly.

Another thing would be to create a new personality that we'll call the Black fruit. We'll leave notes near the crime scene that leave boggling reasons why we did things the way we did. Like "face melted for intimidating sheep." Or "Because I can". I really want our shadow felt among the General's army.

Also ask about the ranks the general has and how we can tell. The Ranger of these Garrison guys should know about that stuff.

We should also ask about getting ranger support somehow. Offer to provide a distraction while leave for help. No use staying in a crumbling fort right?

[kahn1234]

((Update tomorrow, family event today that I almost (read:did) completely forgot about. Went off without a hitch still, though, so that was nice.))

[3man75]

((Question: Did the General's name change? I thought when his name was different when he was torturing us.))

EDIT: ((I will at least give you the pleasure of knowing your torturers name. I am "Adrael Gertaw", leader of this city, and commander of its armies. I would tell you to get comfortable, but this will be in no way pleasant."

An now it's General "Whelmere Oltorin". Are there two guys or am i missing something?))

EDIT 2: Think about the "Great Duel between the Faradunian Elf Dore-wiin Few-dhorwil and the Atlovan Battlemaster Gherhaert Voldhern the Scarred". How did it start, progress, and end? Anything we can use?

[kahn1234]

((Question: Did the General's name change? I thought when his name was different when he was torturing us.))

EDIT: ((I will at least give you the pleasure of knowing your torturers name. I am "Adrael Gertaw", leader of this city, and commander of its armies. I would tell you to get comfortable, but this will be in no way pleasant."

An now it's General "Whelmere Oltorin". Are there two guys or am i missing something?))

EDIT 2: Think about the "Great Duel between the Faradunian Elf Dore-wiin Few-dhorwil and the Atlovan Battlemaster Gherhaert Voldhern the Scarred". How did it start, progress, and end? Anything we can use?

((Yes, I forgot what I had called the general before, so I called him something different. For the sake of continuity, the next story update will have them both be Generals, but in the same area. Adreal Gertaw and Whelmere Oltorin will be allies and working together.

I am already thinking up their update. They will have the same goal, and they find similar faults with their current situation and leaders.

As for the duel, well, I will elaborate in the Exposition update now.....))

The Wondrous Continent of Feritul, by Andarius Quate
Chapter 13: Famous Duels

Of all the famous duels, and force of arms in the Continent of Feritul, none were as fierce as the earth shattering battle between the great Elf Dore-wiin Few-dhorwil and the Atlovan Battlemaster Gherhaert Voldhern the Scarred. Their battle went down in history, not because it was the longest, but because it was the most brutal fight these lands had ever seen.

The duel, if in fact it can be called such, lasted on and off for over a year, and caused untold damage to the continent. In fact, several sections of the Mountains of Feritul still bear the scars of the duel, with great chasms splitting the once mighty mountains in two.

It was a clash of great wills, and of opposites. Those reading this will be familiar of the age old tales of good and evil. Rare are the times such black and white thinking can be applied to reality, however it fit perfectly here. This duel was the living embodiment of the eternal struggle mentioned in those children's stories.

Dore-wiin was a tall, lean Faradunian, or high elf, spellweaver and commander. He was highly skilled in the use of weapons, but his strength was the ethereal, supernatural forces known as magic. As a member of the elven spellweavers, he was given great responsibility as he was tasked with the creation of and improvement of spells and magic contraptions.

Spellweavers are also tasked with protecting their secrets, and preventing the creation of spells that step into the black magic bounds of the forbidden subjects.

Every spellweaver had as part of their role the obligation to walk the land, watching, observing, preparing for any and all incursions by those who misuse magic. It was on one such patrol that Dore-wiin encountered the man who would become his greatest and most hated enemy.

Battlemaster Gherhaert Voldhern was, by contrast to the elf, a far more fierce and deadly looking existence. He stool tall, a mountain of muscle with a heart of stone, a calculating mind. He led a war-party of three thousand men and monstrosities on a campaign of terror through the lands of the Ramannon and the States of Long Reach.

He brutally slaughtered three Ramannon legions, and crushed two large armies of the Long Reach States. They seemed unstoppable. They marched with impunity, sacked settlements when they wanted and took what and who they wanted. Even the Atrians sent an expeditionary force to fight them and, even though the Atrian's did stop the war party, they did not cripple them as was the objective.

During the Battlemasters recovery after their first significant defeat, the high elf and the battlemaster clashed.

The duel itself started in the most unremarkable way. Dore-wiin was resting by one of the many tributaries, replenishing his water skins and relaxing before continuing on his journey. The battlemaster was taking a contemplative walk away from his men.

They met, in a most unremarkable clearing in the woods. It is said, as they told the stories of the initial engagementm that at first they didn't know what to make of one another. There was no instant recognition. Why would there be? They come from different parts of the world, and neither were famous at the time.

Dore-wiin once said that, as they stood there, watching one another, he began to smell the essence emanating from the man in front of him. The essence of demonic corruption. An essence no Atlovan can escape as it runs within their very blood. Realising the man that stood before him was no normal human, the elf drew his sword, and readied one of vast array of deadly magic powers.

Likewise, in the darker taverns, the Atlovan Battlemaster recounted how, as he watched the elf, he realised that this one would not be an easy foe. That this one would not run, nor beg forgiveness, nor desert the field. He too readied his weapon - a twin headed, two handed bearded axe - and prepared his magic.

There are many variations on what happened next, creative adaptions that infect every story that is several hundreds of years old, but the one factor common to both. They both stood, still as mountains, for what seemed to both as a very long time before the first attack was thrown......

((To be continued as a lead up to tomorrows Update)).

((For now, bed time.))

[3man75]

((Two demonic generals with armies and other such assets?Let's have some fun )