Combat for 924After Arstotzka's push from last year, we've managed to maintain our momentum with some difficulty.
Skirmishes see Moskurg deploying a new, deadly weapon this year - arrows, with their metal tips filed down to a needle point. Once again our caltrops do nothing to stop them as they charge into our camp in the dead of night, the lead rider holding aloft an ivory staff that snuffs out magic all around it. Their horse archers use their new arrows to deadly effect; at nearly point blank range, the dreaded needle arrows punch through steel plate to dig into flesh beneath.
Well. At least, some of them do. The arrows have a tendency to crumple if they hit a particularly thick section of armor, and when they do penetrate they're not always lethal. Still, they dig into the flesh beneath the steel when they do punch through, wounding men in armor. The narrow arrows do less damage to unarmored men than regular arrows, but our soldiers aren't happy to have over-sized sewing needles shot into their midst. Despite being less lethal than our own ashwood arrows, this frightening new weapon causes discontent amongst our men.
Our own skirmishes go equally well - the Moskurgs still aren't used to the cold weather we've foisted upon them, and time and time again they let their guard down. We punish them severely for it, riding in with our plentiful heavy calvary and laying about where we can. Our foot archers creep into range before sniping into their encampments, and before they can organize a counter attack we're gone. Skirmishes are more or less even this year, with neither side doing more damage than the other.
The melee's have increased in lethality, however. Moskurg needle arrows tend to dig into our wooden shields at medium range, and at close range they can cause superficial wounds that hamper our mens fighting capabilities. This, of course, is ignoring the annoying tendency of Moskurg arrows to find their way into eyeslits and armor gaps - that still happens with frustrating frequency. Our own arrows return the favor when they can find their way through the wind and rain, punching through what seems like tinfoil armor. Moskurg had made some attempt to field armor in a clumsy attempt to imitate our invulnerable (except to lightning) plate armor, and their inexperience shows. It's metal scales sewn together to drape each man in a coat, but it's frequently rusted and too thin to stop longbow arrows within long range. It's not particularly adept at melee combat, either - a single blow will tear it to shreds, causing the thread to snap and leaving the soldier open for a second attack. Even though it's utterly, utterly inferior to our own armor, it does give them more flexibility and buys their men a few extra seconds of life.
With our anti-magic charms now keeping our commanders safe, we've organize our Anti-Mage body guards into Anti-Mage Hunters
[Roll at disadvantage: 5, 6]. Equipped with the finest bows, armor, and anti-magic charms we have available, they make a sport of shooting down enemy mages wielding ivory staves. Other enemy mages cloak themselves in whirling cyclones of wind when not casting, but even they must drop their shield to cast their lightning. When they do, they are quickly shot down. Without al-Mutriqa to pick up the slack, we push Moskurg back another section in the jungle. Those we capture are brutally, mercilessly executed in plain view of the enemy's lines.
Let them know what awaits.
The Theatre Commander is very pleased with our progress. Switching the body guards to offense was a brilliant stroke, and with the enemy unable to protect their mages we've pushed them back even further. It's mildly disconcerting that they've begun using needles for arrows, but if their foolish armor is any indication of their capabilities we should have this war wrapped up in a few years.
Arstotzka gains ground in the jungle.With no new advancements to be used on the seas, neither side makes advancements here.
The Theatre Commander contemplates your steam engine, and quickly dismisses it. It's too heavy to be used on a ship - however many men it replaces in work wouldn't equal the amount of weight it takes up. He hopes you'll cease with this foolish talk of steam and develop something to give us a
real advantage on the high seas, like perhaps an
even bigger fireball.Neither side makes coastal gains in the Western Sea.Revision Credit Results: Moskurg: 2 reports + (1d4 = 1) = 3
Arstotzka: 3 reports + (1d4 = 1) = 4
Arstotzka has compiled a more thorough report of the incident regarding al-Mutriqa and Myark, and gains a revision credit for this coming year.
"We stepped out on the battlements for .. something, I don't remember what. Maybe it was to admire the view. Down there it's all tangled green, brown and white, you can't see farther than a couple hundred paces. Above the trees, it's all so much clearer and majestic, reminds me of the pine forests back home. Anyway, we were out there for a couple of minutes, then the horn sounded, then the guard next to us collapsed. Had an arrow straight through the eyeslit of his helm, and if we hadn't ducked a second earlier the next two arrows would have found us too. In the blue light of the spell circles his face was twisted in rage, and he spat out "Al-Mutriqa!"
"How do you kn-" I began, but he was already pushing me into the ward rooms and beginning the chant to transfer control of the Tower to me. Me, a mere apprentice! I still don't know how I held it for those twenty minutes, but it was probably due to the new spell circles being self-harmonising, only needing me to channel the power rather than balance it as well.
So it was maybe three minutes between the horn sounding and Myark rushing down the stairs. Outside, I could hear the rain beginning to pour down. I don't know what happened after that."
-Apprentice Andrei, part of the tower's magic detachment
"Adelita was the one who sounded the horn. We found her body later, with her fingers still wrapped around it. Her Charm was intact and still functioning, but that didn't help her from the entirely mundane spear thorough her lungs. She died a hero - without her warning, we probably wouldn't have been able to fend off the Phantasms like we did.
When Myark appeared I was fighting one of the Black Phantasms on foot. His horse had been killed, but he was fighting like the devil, a ferocious whirlwind of spear and scimitar strikes. Me and Alexander had his back to a tree but couldn't quite get under his guard, until a fireball wooshed past my shoulder and caught him in the face. He screamed and dropped, and Alexander put a sword in his throat while I turned to see where that had come from. Myark was hurling fireballs left and right, burning a path through the melee straight toward a gold-and-purple robed figure at the edge of the clearing. There was a moment when their eyes met, and the electric tension was palpable - exactly like just before a lightning bolt. In fact, it probably was, as a moment later some brave fool rushed at al-Mutriqa and lightning struck the tree next to Myark. That brave fool earned a spear in the face for his trouble, but he did his part - the Charm he'd brought into range must have distracted al-Mutriqa's casting, even if for a second. He picked it up and tossed it into the trees, cursing, but Myark was already upon him with all the fury of an Arstotzkan blizzard. Then there was the sound of hooves, Alexander's yelling, and another Phantasm was bearing down on us."
-Jarl Antonio, sub-commander in the tower's garrison
"Yeah, I saw the duel. I was on the second storey, shooting at the Phantasms best as I could in the chaos and the storm. Al-Mutriqa was an obvious target in his flashing golden robes, but every arrow I loosed at him was wrenched aside violently in mid-air a few feet short of him. So it wasn't until the lightning strike that I saw Myark duelling him.
Myark hammered him with a barrage of fist-sized fireballs from one hand while swinging his broadsword with the other, while al-Mutriqa answered with a precise flurry of wind blasts that deflected the fireballs and blocked with his staff. They danced around each other for while, then the white staff flared and the fireballs fizzled out in mid-air. Myark paused for a couple of seconds, like he couldn't believe what was happening, and al-Mutriqa blasted him backward ten paces with another gust and knocked the sword out of his hand. He raised his staff for the finishing blow, while Myark's hands weaved about, failing to conjure more fire.
Then another Arstotzkan soldier was diving into the path of al-Mutriqa's staff. I didn't hear the crack as the staff connected with his head, but he dropped like a rock. Myark came to his senses and rolled out of the way of the falling body, snatching up his broadsword and slashing at al-Mutriqa's side in one swift motion. He dropped the glowing staff, which instantly dimmed like a candle snuffed out, and suddenly fireballs were once again issuing forth from Myark's palm. Al-Mutriqa recovered well enough to dodge Myark's swings, but the fireballs were a different matter. Twice he caught the fireballs on his armour, which ignited but went out in the freezing rain. He was backing off step by step, as Myark swung his sword in wide arcs, forcing him to retreat as he could not block both the sword and the fire with his wind blasts. Then the third fireball went into his injured side, and he screamed in agony and went to his knees. Myark gathered a larger fireball in his hand to strike the final blow, but another Phantasm galloped between them, forcing him to duck while heaving al-Mutriqa up onto the horse. The last we saw of "the Hammer" was a golden figure hanging limp in the saddle, being carried away unceremoniously by one of his followers. The rest scattered pretty quickly at the sight of that, melting away into the undergrowth like morning dew.
As for Myark, he didn't take having his revenge stolen from him at the last moment well. He blasted a nearby tree with a few fireballs, then stared at the fallen body of the soldier who took a staff to the head for him for nearly five minutes, out there in the freezing downpour, before some others dragged him in."
-Longbowman Arvi, archer in the tower's garrison
As arstotzka troops marched on, snow advanced with them, the enemy weapon turned in long sought relief from home sickness. In the white jungle, however, pockets of resistance remained and one, only one, was enough to draw Myark away from the tower of frost. The effects were already showing, with snow turning into icy rain and the ground becoming slippery, but killing Al-Mutriqa is worth ANYTHING.
"Have you found him yet? where is he hiding?"
"The amulets grows hotter in direction north-north west. We have an estimate of significant magic use just a couple of kilometers in that direction. Either it is another of their mage squads engaging in heated combat, or it is him."
Myark gets on his horse and addresses his bodyguards:
"Men, mount on your horses, ready your broadswords. We go hunting!"
After a few minutes, the small group arrives in a clearing in the forest, where the much sought Al-Mutriqa is found. Wielding a big decorated ivory staff and ordering his bodyguards to slaughter a squad of helpless sleeping Arstotzkans. He staggers and turns toward the direction from which Myark is approaching, ordering his troops to stop the wild slaughter and rally around him.
"You are not bothering to hide your thoughts today. I will pass them to your next of kin, after I hang you on your entrails. If you think you will be spared again, you are gravely mistaken"
"My thirst for revenge is no secret I intend to keep from you. Chivalrious first, butcherer later? is this the unsteady nature of Moskurg? Your people disgust me. And this place will be your grave, not mine" says Myark while rising his wand to send a fireball hurling to the enemy group. The master wizard evades it, but a couple of his bodyguards are roasted alive, falling on the ground with deadly burns.
Al-Mutriqa orders his guard to scatter and after failing to make Arstotzka soldiers fall asleep, he starts blasting them with strong winds, making several fall down from their saddles while the rest still have trouble commanding their horses. This doesn't last much however, as another fireball arrives on him, forcing him to evade with a forward roll, moving ever closer to Myark.
Myark continues his assault with a wall of flame completely surrounding the Moskurg Wizard, followed by a wall of channeled fog engulfing him.
All around them, the bodyguards of both sides fight savagely, Arstotzka with broadsword seeking melee and Moskurg with composite bows, trying and mostly failing to penetrate the thick plater armor. Both sides for the most part stay clear from the wizards, now engaged in a magic duel in which they can't hope to compete.
Myark shouts to be heard above the noise of battle and fire :"You will not come any closer than this. You are trapped. Lets see how you can evade this now." and he rises his wand once more to land the final blow. However, the cage of fire and fog starts to dissipate, as Al-Mutriqa rotates his staff, magic going out as soon as he points at it.
"I learned a few tricks as well. And this wand can do more than this" Says the Moskurg wizard while running toward his foe and evading a fireball poorly aimed for the surprise.
Caltrops are summoned and easily dispelled as well; the wizards are getting close enough to see the white of their eyes.
"Too close" says Myark. "not even you are so agile". He rises his hand, summoning a jet of small fireballs to engulf the enemy.
*fizzle*
"Too close, replies Al-Mutriqa with a grin, while pointing the ivory staff at his enemy.
Myark's face turn from gloating to concern, as he starts moving backward and calls his bodyguard. He puts an hand in one of his pockets, hopefully unseen.
"Oh, no. You are not escaping" calls Al-Mutriqa while using his wind control to stop Myark's retreat. The wind, however, stop suddenly when Myark extracts from his pocket a newly enchanted charm giving off a poderous hum.
Myark grabs his mace and charges "We are solving this the old way. Ready your weapon"
Al-Mutriqa parries the first blow with his staff, but it is soon clear that it is not meant as a fighting weapon, nor he is yet familiar enough with it. Myark's pressing assault doesn't give him time or space to draw his sword and soon the staff is broken and the Moskurg wizard falls on the ground, a rib broken. A stray arrow luckily manages to make the mace fly off before an execution could be done, so Myark gets on top of his long time enemy and punches him with his armored glove.
"I would say it is not personal. Your death would provide my side a great advantage and spare many soldiers"
*punch*
"More resources and wealth for the kingdom"
*punch*, Al-Mutriqa's face is covered by blood, the nose broken
"But I never forgot the defeats you inflicted to me, or the soldiers slaughtered in their sleep due to your magic. Friends lost by lightning rather than honorable combat, prisoners executed last year"
*Punch*, the jaw dislocated and breaks with a loud snap
"From the deep of my heart, I WISH YOU DEATH"
Myark grabs the nearest hard object he can find, the charm, and aims straight at Al-Mutriqa's chest, landing a mighty blow.
*black*
*silence*
*Pounding headache*
*eyes open, slowly*
*light. tent. friendly voices*
"Lord Myark, are you awake? are you feeling fine? we see no big wounds, but -"
Myark forces himself to fully open his eyes and sit on the bed where he was resting. Around him, his tent in the encamptment near the frost tower. His personal medic and 2 of his bodyguards looking at him, concerned.
"What happened? last I remember, I was finally ridding the world of Al-Mutriqa."
"Sir, we could barely see what happened. At some point, we heard a hum growing higher and higher in pitch coming from your position, then there was a small explosion. In the confusion, the enemy managed to bring him away, bleeding profusely, and we found you nearby asleep. it has been a few hours since we got you back to the camp."
Myark ponders a bit, fighting the pain in his head obfuscating his thoughts.
"The charm... it was enchanted way too quickly, in the middle of the battle. Probably it was unstable. Maybe I hit a bit of metal and it cracked. Either way I suppose it broke and released the thankfully little stored energy. And I suppose that sneaky pig used the chance to cast a sleep spell on me. I let myself be blinded by my own emotions, but next time it will be different."
Myark grins
"Either way, it will take at least a year to try to recover from what I did to his face"
amidst the snow and sleet The Great Mage Myark glared at a lowly swordsman with his dainty horsey and a retinue of annoying groupies. A brave marksman fired an arrow into the giggling fanatics, only to be struck down by a bolt of lightning summoned by some cowardly kegger that continued to hide. Myark grimaced, he had been haunted by dreams sent by the gods, muddled images of knights in strange armour dancing under musical lightning and bizarre phrases like "electrical resistance". Myark dismissed the nonsense, as he had long known that Arstozka's gods were all as mad as they were loyal. What was not nonsense was his experience of such battles. He knew that many more of his countrymen would be caught up in this "duel" as his opponent proclaimed it. Myark's grimace turned to a grin, this time, he was prepared, he had a very special artefact, and knew his adversary could not help but to help activate it. Charging up power in his fist, Myark felt his glove radiate power as gems rustled and burst. With a loud proclamation, Myark declared "I challenge you, Allmytreeka, to settle this between just the two of us!" and hurled his fist forwards, sending the gleaming glove flying through the air, striking the enemy 'wizard' in the face before falling atop the pest's horse. The response was swift and predictable "I accept" with a snide snicker and little care for the true magic before the ignorant fool. The glove's remaining gems rattled and burst as the spell drew the fragments of power that could be found in the lowly enemy and drew them into itself to complete the magic. The woven precious-metal of the glove then melted as it flew to the centre of the confrontation, spun rapidly into a ring that quickly surrounded the pair, and then sunk into the ground before a great stone platform rose with only the tow counterparts atop it. Then, forming into each of the two men's hands, from the depths of their wills were called forth a stack of plates, in the style of the central mountains, decorated with arcane figures and moulded from the finest paper-board... The surrounding soldier found themselves drawn to the grandeur of the event, and could not help but to gaze on, cheering, and commenting incessantly on the impressive card-game skills.
Al-mutriqua looked down at the cards. He had heard of this game, and the attitude of the cards was disturbingly Arstozkan, but he felt his own power within them and knew that his own power would decide this.
Myark took the initiative and declared "I call upon the great tundra and bring forth the frozen wraith" as a portion of the platform grew cold and tufty and a shadowy figure rose from the snow and crept forward to battle.
Steeling himself, the fool responded "I bring forth the... Mind-scorching Desert and raise a... Stupid Mossy Wind-djinn, and have it call destruction from the sky" as a whirl of sand rose from a now-sandy patch of the platform and formed into a man-shape with a goofy face drawn upon its head and frilly tunic that resembled a dress of bright colours. The djinn danced about pointlessly before lifting its tunic in a random direction and producing a deafening thundercrack behind it, followed by the spectral shadow dispersing under a bolt of blazing energy.
Myark then brought forth the tomb of icy repose which restored the former shade, and called into being another frozen wraith as the tundra grew further. The wraiths flailed against the djinn, but their shadowy substance proved unable to do more than subtly drain its strength to hold it in place.
Al then spread a dash of plains and raised a "dumb kegger on fat horse" which proved to be a clown with a mop atop an aptly large-proportioned steed. It charged at the shadows as the djinn again exposed the field to a bolt of lightning, and Al brought forth the magic of "Keggers fail fisuks" and the two wraiths dispersed under a deluge of lightning. The clown pressed through the dispersing darkness and struck Myark with a mop.
Myark knew that an early setback was a suitable price to pay for the humility to win this as the riding clown froze in place as frost spread over the platform from "The Frozen Fields of Forenia". Yet another Frozen wraith rose from new ground as one of its peers emerged from the tomb, both held in place by the frozen landscape.
Al then evoked a card of "cheating brain bug" which produced a small but intimidating insect that promptly tried to move for nefarious purposes but failed
Myark watched joyously as the final wraith was revived by the tomb and called forth a mountainous tile from which emerged "night fiend" a dark-furred wolf. The wolf promptly broke free of the suddenly-shattering ice and leapt upon the opposing clown horseman who quickly succumbed, but fed his horse to the wolf to remain alive. The shadows however merged together under the power of a magic "Final Fiend of Frozen Fields" which united the three into a dense standing shadow with a sinister aura. The beetle was promptly drown by the shadows as the djinn was paralysed by the shadow's stare.
Al then called upon his greatest regret and manifested the new and untarnished "chamber of felled dreams", a metal cage of hopeful prisoners, waiting to be released, promptly put to death by stoic guards. bringing forth "too many dumb keggers" incarnated a pair of clowns from the desert and the three of such entered the chamber and promptly expired under swordblows. From thechamber emerged a beast of burning rage, "unbroken horror" red teeth and eyes and fur aflame in the shape of a great hound. The beast leapt upon the shadow and tore it to pieces, releasing the djinn to march upon Myark and strike with a fist of swirling sands, blowing the wizard back to the edge of the platform.
Myark then called upon "chain spirit" from the mountain, and chains wrapped around the dread hound as the djinn froze as a familiar dense shadow rose from the tomb and consumed the weakened beast as the wolf ran forth and grabbed Al by the foot.
Al then called upon "Mossy Pig-head" a Moskurker soldier with a pig for a head that crushed the wolf under a great hammer.
Myark countered by sending chains through the djinn, disrupting its form thus binding it uselessly to the ground, the pigman was devoured by the shadow, and then the final spell "shadows unleashed" destroyed the shadow, converting it into a horizontal pillar of blackness that struck the undefended enemy and threw him from the platform in a great explosion of darkness that flattened the surrounds.
Al-Mutriqa, completely drained of magic and consciousness, was rushed from the field by the battered cavalry of his escorts.
Northern Taiga: 4/4 Arstotzka
Central Mountains: 4/4 Arstotzka
Western Jungle: 3/4 Arstotzka, 1/4 Moskurg
Eastern Plains: 4/4 Moskurg
Southern Desert: 4/4 Moskurg
Northern Sea: Arstotzkan
Western Sea: Disputed
Eastern Sea: Moskurger
Southern Sea: Moskurger
Broadsword: An iron age classic. A double-edged blade designed for speed, flexibility and force. Requires training to wield, can be used one or two handed. Removable pommel for throwing.Cheap.
War Axe: Can be used as a tool in a pinch, this is a single-handed weapon that does well against heavily armoured foes. Can be used with minimal training.
Wooden Shield: General infantry equipment. Couples well with an axe, cheap, easy to replace. Works best in heavy melee. Can be used with minimal training. Cheap.
Hide Armour: General infantry armour. Cheap, thanks to the plentiful sheep in the taiga. Turns aside weak blows. Cheap.
Chain Mail: Officer armour. Expensive, due to the steel required. Very effective against most weapons. Expensive.
Plate Mail: General infantry and officer armour. So well designed it costs surprisingly little to make. Normal cost.
Longbow: General infantry weapon. Difficult to find wood and requires a lot of training, but long ranged and powerful. Cheap.
Shire Horse: A heavy riding horse. Survives and rides well in cold weather. Powerful charge. Normal Cost.
Longship: Oar-rowed wooden ship. Slow, but sturdy, and can carry large numbers of landing troops. Very Expensive.
Steam Engine: A highly inefficient, dangerous, expensive, and enormously heavy steam engine based on the aeolipile design. Currently useless. National Effort.
Wand of Fireballs: Hurls fireballs at a distance, able to destroy whole squads at a time. A National Effort.
Tower of Forever Frost: An astoundingly expensive tower that has to be assembled in place and requires the skill of a master wizard to operate, as well as countless other skilled wizards. Creates a very powerful cold evocation and then channels it directly into the air, consistently lowering temperatures within a radius of about fifty miles. Can induce snow in the jungle during the winter, freezing rain in the summer. A National Effort.
Anti-Magic Charm: A magically enchanted quartz crystal. Hums loudly in the presence of magic, and prevents magic from being conjured inside the very limited range. Expensive.
Magic Lance: Conjures a set of lances for a cavalry squad. Thick enough not to break on use, and lasts long enough to be useful in combat. Expensive.
Magic Axe: Conjures a set of long axes for officers. Weapon is anchored to a small gem in the handle, allowing it to exist longer than 24 hours. Expensive.
Anti-Mages: Mage hunters equipped with longbows, anti-magic charms, and the best armor we can give them. Excel at sniping enemy mages.
Obscuring Mist: Cloaks a squad in a fog cloud, hiding their numbers and equipment, and making them harder to hit at range.
Variant (Channeled Fog): A denser form of Obscuring mist, continuously generated.
Summon Swarm: Conjures a swarm of stinging wasps to harass foes. Expensive.
Variant (Fire Wasps): Conjures stinging wasps that can start small fires. Expensive.
Webs: Conjures a sticky web, immobilizing an entire squad and preventing them from moving. Very Expensive.
Fireball: Hurls fireballs at a distance, able to destroy whole squads at a time. Damaging side effects harm morale. Very Expensive.
Streamlined Fireball: Hurls small balls of fire that explode on impact, not as devastating as full fireballs but much easier to cast. Cheap.
Firewall: Creates static walls of fire. Long casting time, concentration sustain. Very Expensive.
Crystal Caltrops: Jagged crystals designed to lay in the grass and catch enemy troops unaware. Good for defense. Normal Cost.
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Topic: Wands Race - [Arstotzka] {COMPLETED} (Read 393899 times)