The [Supposed] Entrance to Aesir

[Muryllis]

Three tired wizards stood guard at the outer gates, too lazy to blend in with the shadows; one of them had recently slumped over and fallen asleep, his enchanted staff rising with his chest as he dozed. The other two stood close together at the other end of the gate, playing a game of stone-parchment-cutting implement to pass the time. They were brothers, the three of them; they had grown up in Aesir, learned together, and had recently joined the guard force. With the completion of this new entrance to the splendid city of Aesir (for the old was of an inappropriate design, and Grand Magus Cain had ordered it scrapped (probably after much nagging of his dearest wife)), a new contingent of guardsmen and women had been pulled together - there was, after all, the possibility of an attack from Gnolls, Undead, or even Demons, but this was more of a nuisance than a live threat. As such, the three brothers were not as trained as they could have been - mere mystics, they took their educations with amusement, and so were pretty much equipped to slay a Gnoll, pulverize an Undead, or hinder a Demon until superior help arrived.

Past the gates was a more formidable group - these witches and wizards, also of the mystic class (though there were a couple of elementalists thrown in for support, and an illusionist for utility) were more concerned with their shiny new uniforms than the duty given to them. This group composed the main guard of the outer defenses of the ancient fortress; beyond the second set of gates, which was guarded by six mystics, was a courtyard dotted with a dozen or so more wizards; they were there to keep the seats warm, so to speak, if the outer ring was taken. That it would, thought the interior defenders - their numbers were big, yes, but few of them had ever roasted more than a marshmallow.

Within the citadel itself was a portal to the floating city of Aesir; this portal was created to be permanent in theory, though it could, after numerous ceremonies, be taken down if a genuine threat, like an attack by Demon Lords or the like, were to surface; however, these ceremonies would take days to complete, a fact that troubled the various elder councils of Aesir.

The defenders, numbering two hundred in all, dozed peacefully during the day, with fires and feasts coloring the aged stones of the castle a pale yellow. Pacing the walls was a hooded wizard, probably in his twenties if one noted his gallant and self-centered stride, with a freshly-carved staff (tipped with an elegantly carved jade); he too was a mystic, though he had only graduated a year or so ago. His only thought right now was a sweetheart at home, and advancing through the ranks of the Aesir defense forces... an easy task, given that all he had to do was stand on a wall and blow up Gnolls and skeletons.

Life was good, and Aesir was in good hands.


((It is prefered that the first post belongs to Vidar, or one of the Avaren high command; this is for plot reasons, sorry.))

[Vidar]

"Alright men, let's break camp and get on the march, five minutes till we're back on the march. We'll show them witches whose boss!" came a loud and gruff voice. The voice belonged to an aged soldier. He bore upon his face numerous scars from previous encounters, along with those born form an age of teacher new recruits proper control of a sword, partially obscured by a grizzled beard that encroached upon much of his face.

"Aye, commander Morland!" Replied the nearest captain, echoed by several dozen others as they swiftly broke down their camp and packed up for the continuation of the march. Spirits were high, even for a group expecting war. They were the expeditionary force, ordered by Father Vidar, to attack and defeat the "heretic threat". These were some of the finest warriors of the kingdom of Avaren, loyal fighters of the throne. While at first it hadn't sat well with them that it was by the order of a priest, not their king, who had set them on this road, these qualms had been swiftly squelched when it became apparent he had full royal backing.

In but a few short hours of steady march, they had come within sight of the ancient fortress. It was a sight that made many of the newer recruits gape in awe at it's majesty, which rivaled the castle of Avaren with ease, although it was long since fallen into disrepair.

There was a brief disturbance among his troops, as a pair of his spies pushed their way through the troop formations to get to their commander and report. Unlike the rest of his army, these two bore no armor or any apparent weapons, wearing instead dirt and leaves as their armor, as their job was reconnaissance, not combat. "Bailey, Sanforth, what is your report?"

"Sir," said the one named Sanforth, elbowing his way to place himself in front of Morland, giving a quick salute. "The prisoner was telling the truth! I spotted a trio of them myself! An odd lot they were, one which I don't like in the least. Where are their weapons? Where is their armor?"

"They don't need it, remember? They’re supposedly using 'the flames of hell itself', so I assume that heavy weapons would only hinder 'em. At any rate, Captain Cullen!" he demanded, looking towards the one who had replied to him earlier, "You know what to do."

"Yes sir," he replied, beckoning his force move foreword to advance upon the gates. In his contingent, he brought along with his a score of both archers and footmen scattered together. The archers were armed with bow and short sword with leather jerkins as armor for increased maneuverability, with the footmen being armed with broadsword and shield, with iron breastplates for heavier protection. On either flank, to protect against charge from those directions were a small number of pike men.

Numbering approximately 50 in all, the small force attacked the gate guards and the gate with a rousing cry, the archers letting loose a volley of arrows at the heretics while the footmen advance to take the gates.

[Muryllis]

The three brothers never saw the attack coming. Before one could even think to yell, three arrows found a new home in his throat, and two more pierced the heart and neck of his sleeping brother. The remaining one looked over to see what had happened, but his head was firmly planted against the old wooden gate by an arrow, ending his life and preventing him from seeing his brothers slain.

Threescore wizards flattened themselves against the high stone wall as they heard the deadly thumping of arrows on wood. One of them, the only illusionist in the company, ventured to poke his head out, only to be felled by an arrow before he could interpret the bloodstained bodies of his friends. The rest of the defenders in the citadel's outer shell, numbering about a hundred fifty in all, positioned themselves around the gate, ready to wreak havoc on the soldiers when they entered the castle. These spellcasters were of varying skill, ranging from the a weak mystic ability to burn or numb an attackers limb, all the way to being able to slice it off with a whiplash of energy. The elementalists in the force prepared to unleash a rather pathetic array of pyro-, hydro-, geo-, and aeromancer skills, for they were not as learned as could be hoped for.

None of these men had ever seen combat, and their young, arrogant leader on the walls, the Sub Magus Antony, had only a rank to boast of. He stumbled down the steps, jade-tipped staff clapping against the stone as his hood flew off to reveal short brown hair. Taking position in the back of the defending force, close to the entrance to the inner circle of the castle if the situation became too dangerous, he stuttered out orders. "H-h-hold the lines! Maybe they'll g-g-go away!" He hoped dearly that these attackers would; this job was supposed to be easy!!


((Note: I think it's safe to say that this plot is now open to any warrior who wishes to attack; I ask that mages refrain from joining, however, for certain plot reasons. Thank you.))

[Vidar]

The warriors rose a bit of a cheer as they saw the mages fall without so much as the slightest of struggles. If all the mages were this weak, their job would be much simpler, to the point that only the smallest fraction of their forces would be necessary to defeat them.

Without incident, the foot soldiers made the gates, throwing their strength against them and easily breaking through the minor barrier, as no apparent defenses had been placed to hold them shut from attack.

Upon the gates swinging open, the archers, having had time to reload, unleashed another volley at the mages waiting within. "Charge!" yelled Captain Cullen, although his warriors needed no prompting as the sword and pike men fell upon the mages fell upon the mages, while the bowmen stepped back to inspect the immediate area to fins a good vantage point to snipe whomever possible.

[Muryllis]

A deafening roar could be heard from the impetuous sword- and pikemen as they slammed into the shocked mages, plowing through them with sickening speed. A few pebbles of ice and puffs of fire were sent forth by the elementalists, but the onslaught was far too powerful to give the defenders any room to breathe. Sub Magus Antony saw this clearly, almost too clearly, and used what precious time he had to fall back to the inner circle, followed closely by a dozen mystics before the gates were closed and barred.

Panting, Antony attempted to pull his thoughts together, given worried looks by the remaining defenders while the slaughter continued outside. Several fists could be heard pounding on the gates, for the mages still alive outside wanted desperately to be allowed in. Glancing at their terrified leader, the ones inside did not move to pull the gates open; several loud thuds could be heard against the tick wood, and the pounding stopped; a blood seeped in from under the doors, staining the dirt red.

"What do we do now," whispered one of the remaining mystics. All that was left between the warriors and the citadel housing the portal to Aesir was this pathetic group of less than forty not-so-well-trained mages and their inept captain. With a frantic look, he backed to the door of the citadel.

"P-p-prepare to f-fight!!"

[Vidar]

Once again, the warriors found themselves with a flawless victory. So many of the vile mages had died; with less than a dozen casualties on the side of Avaren. It was too simple, these heretics obviously abandoned by their dark master in their hour of need, which was apparent even as they were firmly routed from another ring of defenses.

As the footmen moves on foot towards the next door, the archers clambered across the walls, seeking to rain arrows down upon the defenders of the second gate from behind anything that could pose as crenellations.

"Clear the door." Captain Cullen ordered, watching in satisfaction that as his warriors formed ranks once more after several had dragged the bodies of the slain mages off into far corners to be unceremoniously dumped, out of the way of the charge that would sweep through the remaining mages once the gates were broken.

"Let's get the largest warriors we have and throw 'em at that door, Break it down!" he bellowed, wherein about a dozen or so warriors, complete with more muscle than mind, advanced on the door and threw their weight, armor and all, against the door, seeking to smash it inwards. At the same time, pikes were lowered, sword and shield readied and arrows knocked in preparation for when those gates fell.

[Muryllis]

The gate, rotted and old, gave quickly before the incessant pounding. Within minutes, armored bodies smashed through the splintering wood. At a command - or two, seeing as the mages were absolutely terrified - Antony manages to get the bulk of his mystics to start attacking, while the elementalists targetted the archers on the walls. This was truly a last stand; the portal back to Aesir was disconnected temporarily for a final tweak in the intricate system of enchantments that made it function, so they could not run - the attackers would figure out sooner or later what the problem was, and as soon as the entrance to Aesir was open again, they would swarm the city.

With this in mind, Antony pulled the citadel gate guards to the attack as well, leaving him alone in a wide alley that lead to the gates. He had no desire to be cut down by arrows, and instead began to hope that these warriors would spare him once they slew all his men. He peaked around the corner, taking in the carnage that grew closer and closer to the sacred portal to Aesir.


((ick, shortness ))

[Vidar]

The gates were broken, the defenses stormed, while some mages fought back, they no longer even so much as possessed superior numbers as they were systematically eradicated by the steel of their opposition. The portal was within sight now, and victory was soon to be theirs.

"The battle goes well, sir." said Sanforth, when demanded to give his report by Morland. He and Bailey had been running back and forth since the beginning, relaying all new information as the battle progressed, "We have slain many and lost few, the portal is within sight and then the city will be ours. I don't even think the rest of us need go anywhere, seeing as how that single contingent wiped 'em out single handedly."

"No," replied Morland, "Those were only the gatekeepers, remember? I'm sure wherever they guard has forces enough as it is within." He appeared deep in thought for several moments, then raised his voice to be heard throughout the camp, which quieted immediately at the sound of his voice, "Come, soldiers, we move out. It's time to take care of the vermin in their own rathole!"

With his declaration, his troops gave a rousing cry, having grown tired of waiting idly by. So it was that while the single contingent under the command of Captain Cullen secured the gates, the rest of the royal army marched in upon the citadel, ready to use the portal and attack Aesir directly.

Yet there was one final surprise in for the victorious captain. "Captain, we've spotted one of the rats attempting to hide away, we think." It was Bailey, Sanforth's partner.

"Take me to him," he commander growled, beckoning a trio of guards to accompany him, "Perhaps we can hang him ourselves," he said while gesturing for the scout to lead on.

"Oye, come out of hiding!" He commanded to the general location the scout said he had spotted the fugitive, "Come now and we might spare you."

[David Augustine]

The figure that they called out to at first didn't move or make any signs of acknowledgement. He just stood there gazing in one direction. His spear resting against his shoulder apparently the silhoute looked like a staff instead. Though he only wondered why he was being called out to. Perhaps it was because he had slain some of the warriors earlier, mainly archers because they were so troublesome while he was taking another route towards the Dark Citadel. He shifted his gaze towards the voices to see a group of four warriors.

He then turned his body fully to face them showing acknowledgement. He knew what they were doing here, but for what reason was rather unknown to him. However, their main goal was rather widely known, the destruction of a different group of people. Why this warrior would defy the current decleration that Avaren had made, was still rather unknown to himself. There were several reasons to tell the truth. The queen had become crazed. The priest was uptaking the thrown with no opposition instead of someone that was within the royal family. And then, he the fact that they were sentencing those without any founded reason besides that they feared these gifted individuals.

"Do you challenge that which you fear?" the voice of David Augustine was projected, "Do you hate something that's different so much that you'll sentence innocent lives for your just cause? Either way, you are taking the lives of others. I will not idly stand by and watch this massacre. Once peaceful and now distraught. What I am prepared to do is not trechory, but the protection of both parties."

With that the silhoute moved forward, as the star light and moon light hit the figure. It became known who exactly it was. It was infact, David Augustine. The end of his spear was resting softly in the palm of his hand and against his shoulder. His clothing offering limited protection but made up for it by allowing him to easily move with speed. A white piece of cloth was wrapped around his head, covering his hair, and tied at the back into a not with two tails. His white cape against his back. His only two other weapons, the swords that he had found, was sheathed and positioned at the back of his waist.

He slightly crouched into in an ideal defensive position that would allow him to quickly switch to the offense when need be. The end of his spear pointing forward. "You're final warning will be this. Stop this foolish crusade before you meet your own deaths by those that you swore to slay." His blue eyes were focused with determination and filled with a calming flame. He was prepared to take on this entire troop of soldiers. It wouldn't be the first time that he had fought a small army with or without aide.

[Muryllis]

The slaughter was chaotic, seemingly endless, but it eventually did end. When the shouts of death and suffering were deplaced with those of orders and strategy, Antony decided to attempt his own escape. The portal to Aesir had yet to reactivate itself - another hour or so would do - but the Sub Magus couldn't give a damn about the safety of the city at this point; he had to escape, preferably with his life.

Using the pitiful amount of magic he could summon, he pulled the corpse of an Avaren soldier to him, leaving them in the safety of the shadows. After a few minutes of tiresome work, Antony managed to strap a few key pieces of warrior armor to himself, the helmet, gauntlets, and cuirass, leaving him looking like an ungodly cross between two societies. In short, he looked like a clown, but he was desperate enough to believe he could sneak out undetected.

Luckily for him, one of the warriors had apparently decided to start a commotion within the ranks. Using this to his advantage - and letting out a laugh non too quiet - he stumbled toward the gate, the heavy armor weighing him down. Antony prayed he wouldn't be captured...

[Vidar]

The warriors that had called to David halted in confusion. They had not been expecting any sort of armed resistance, as everything they had fought until this point had been a small force of mages with little more than cloaks and daggers, perhaps; that who actually wielded a weapon other than supposed 'witchcraft' seemed an almost foreign concept to these warriors.

Yet their confusion lasted only the briefest of moments, for it seemed plain as day to them, after the warrior issued his challenge, that, while he was not necessarily with the mages, he must surely support them, making him one of the worse enemies imaginable. "Traitor!" one of the three guards shouted, before Captain Cullen could give any order otherwise, charging with swords brandished.

The other pair of guards was more careful, yet still reacting to an unspoken order, drawing a bow each and firing at David. As they had been slightly fanned out to prevent clustering in case of any sort of radius magical attack, they had an angle of firing that would not intersect with the charging warrior’s assault.

Meanwhile, closer to the main body of warriors, there was a slight commotion. Apparently, they attention had been drawn by a completely random laugh, unveiling someone who didn't quite fit in, with their rather comical assortment and arrangement of gear. In seconds, the person was surrounded, spears and swords leveled at him, prepared to strike if he tried anything at all.

"You there," said Morland, stepping over, having been nearby when the commotion occurred, "You are not one of my men." He stated simply, and the warriors surrounding him tightened their grip on their weapons, as if this statement was a proclamation of the mages death in and of itself, "Yet you might live through this day. Open this portal for me, and you shall survive."

[David Augustine]

David watched calmly with an unchanging gaze. His face keeping the same expression as to everything that was unfolding before him. He heard one of the guards yell traitor and then begin to charge ahead of two arrows that were more than likely locked onto the tall warrior that was standing there. "Don't say that I did not give you all fair warning." he stated as he positioned his spear into a more neutral stance.

The expression on his face calm and worn with a slight frown as he disliked what he was about to do. But as he had spoken, it was for the good of both parties that he was doing this. As the first warrior charging forward to attack. David gave a small side step in time and the positioned his spear for the man to run upon it meeting a very painful experience. Though by no means killing him. It was just to thwart him off or keep him still.

Now the next problem was the arrows that were approaching him. That was going to be problematic. He reached for the hilt that was pointing towards David's left with his right hand. David then drew the Sword of Fire and Ice. It's blade glowing with a red aura on one side of the blade and on the other a blue aura. The aura's signalling that the weapon was in fact magical. He then slashed at the warrior was the concentrating on removing himself from the spear. As the metal made contact with the warrior's body, the one guard's body became engulfed in flames finishing him off as the red aura shined brightly. Then the blue aura shined brightly as well and David's eyes glowed with the same color aura.

David then pointed the sword towards the rest of the warriors. "Reroute." he said barely over a whisper. And as the two arrows came towards him, David charged towards the group. And one of the arrows started heading towards one of the first archers instead. David's glowing blue eyes returned to normal and the sword's aura dimmed down but still glowed. He approached the second archer slashed at him with the same Sword of Fire and Ice.

[Reno]

Reno had been exploring the citadel. there was a new rumor going around, that the back entrance to Aesir was in this place. Reno, after little thought or consideration, had packed supplies, enough for at least a month, and headed out with nothing more than his dagger and short sword. Shadow lives in Aesir... Maybe I might find him there... and even if I don't, the adventure will be awesome... This had been yesterday. now, he was thoroughly angered at the entire citadel for being so damn big. but none the less, he had arrived at the place, only knowing that this was the place because of the remains of a recent warrior encampment that had fires still smoldering. wearily picking his way along the obvious path the ferocious warriors had taken, he stopped when he saw the first few dead mages. he immediately knew that the battle was won by the warriors before it started, especially for the lack of warrior bodies. slowly picking his way through the shadows, he kept the hood of his cloak up, occasionally taking something shiny from a dead mage's staff or searching through a dead mage's pouches. The pouches usually didn't have anything worth-while in them, but the staves, more often than not, were adorned with jewels and valuable metals, which found their way into Reno's pouch. upon reaching the main force of warriors, he stopped, produced a grappling hook and rope from his pack and threw it onto the wall where there weren't any archers. making sure that no one was behind or above him, he swiftly began to climb the wall.

[Slivers]

Eerie silence seemed to spread, besides the noise of warriors shifting or dead individuals having their blood drained into the earth. Despite how loud it actually was, it was somehow, just eeriely silent. It was too silent and still. The feeling as if being watched could be felt amongst a number of warriors that might've been told to stay back. Mostly the archers if anything with a few close combatant warriors for protection.

A soft sound could be heard slithering through the fields. Though it could easily be mistaken for a common snake or serpent. Nothing sounding to theatening. It was then that those warriors were attacked. However, before they could even let out a scream of pain or anything they were effeincently killed and silenced. The silhoute of a figure walking across the grounds that belonged to Reno could be seen by these creatures that were approaching. At first there were only a group of nine of them, nothing that threatening. Though now that the warriors that were left behind where killed the number increased to around fifteen.

Six of these creatures were very similar and carried the same characteristics as the other nine. Though the other nine had much more prominate features. They split up into groups circling the perameter with advanced tactical precision. Surrounding the warriors and mages that were still alive or dead. They then entered in enclosing the circle and moving swiftly along the many walls and corridors.

At the scene where, David and the warriors were fighting. There were two of them. One of them was one of the newly joined six and the other a Sedge Sliver that was coming from behind the group of four warriors. Before David's slash could even make contact, a talon from the Sedge Sliver pierced the back of the archer's head and went straight through the warrior's mouth. Obviously killing the archer and letting it's presence be known with a hiss. The other sliver lunged forward to attack leaving whoever else was alive in a pincher.

Then there was the scene where the only currently living mage and a large group of warriors surrounding him was located at. The two areas relatively close but this group was surrounded by fourteen slivers. Another one was brought into existance thanks to the Brood Sliver as the one archer died from the Sedge Sliver. The first to attack and pull back a warrior slowly to kill was a Vampiric Sliver. It suspended it's prey and allowed it to die slowly as it grew stronger from it's prey's death. In fact, all the slivers had shared this ability thus the earlier kills had made them more powerful as well.

Another warrior, turned and yelled as he saw the terrible sight. Determined to attempt and slay the creature, it was instead the warrior that was killed by a Talon Sliver. The damage might not have been much but the warrior would end up dying anyway due to the presence of a Toxin Sliver. The slivers and warriors soon started clashing. As more warriors dyed more slivers would emerge fresh for the fight. The slivers that were thought to be slain where regenerated by a Crypt Sliver that kept it's distance. A Watcher Sliver, Bonesplitter Sliver, and Might Sliver were present as well and fighting strengthing the other slivers in their power and toughness. Each sliver possessed two real heads that made their attacks more difficult to defend against and horns that could penatrate the toughest of armor depending on the might of the sliver thanks to a Two-Headed Sliver and a Horned Sliver. And then even if a sliver was wounded, whenever they dealt damage they regained their health due to the abilities of an Essence Sliver.

What could've drawn these creatures out into attacking as such? Perhaps this citadel was more than a protal and also their territory? Or perhaps they were drawn to the scent of blood in the air. Either way, they were here and they were attacking anyone that was there. Their numbers only growing as one more warrior or mage fell to the ground cold and lifeless.

[Muryllis]

((Godmodding Vidar's troops to attack? Interesting.))


To Antony's dismay, the brilliant attempt to escape fell through just as brilliantly; a man, likely an officer in the ranks of these untamed barbarians, denounced the mage as he was promptly surrounded by a number of troops, shiny weapons bristling. Antony, Junior Sub-Magus in the Aesir Gate Guard, was officially captured.. by armed neanderthals.

'Yet you might live through this day. Open this portal for me, and you shall survive,' the man said, after passing the unvoiced message that Antony was not to survive. "N-n-I don't kn-know," the mage stuttered, backing away with nowhere to back to. Then he laughed.

Yes, the young patsy actually managed to laugh. Or.. was he even a young patsy?

Muryllis Antonius, Master Spellweaver of the Aesir Court, Advisor to the Grand Magi, Head Instructor of the Aesir Academy of Mages, etc, could no longer uphold this farce; he feared he would become a blubbering mess, crying and laughing after all the hilarity he had seen in such a short time. With an enthusiastic wave of his hand, the corpses of all the mages disappeared. With another, the light escaping the citadel gates faded - the portal had disappeared as well. With a final wave, the aspiring young Sub Magus faded into the image of an old wizard, a glint in his eyes that betrayed a random number composed of seventeen digits - all the ways he could decimate this entire army of Avaren.

"Commander Morland of Avaren, I hope you enjoyed the wonderful spectacle I put your brainless soldiers through." Indeed, the entire garrison of the abandoned citadel had been composed of illusions - illusions powerful enough to harm, and kill, other people. The 'portal' to Aesir had also been an illusion - one he had taken care to spice up so it looked nice. "I'm afraid you have fallen into a rather disheartening trap; that fellow who told you of the new entrance to Aeris? I must thank him, for that was a brilliant idea. Oh yes, I heard it all - I have eyes and ears all throughout your dirty 'city'. "

His wrinkled face suddenly twisted into a delighted grin. "But where are my manners! I am Muryllis Antonius of Aesir, and I am to make it known that Avaren, her government, and all provinces under her rule are now the possessions of the Grand Magi. You are to submit, or your kingdom shall be taken by force." His grin suddenly turned sinister, and his eyes burned onto those of Morland. The Master Spellweaver realized that there were Slivers nearby, but he did not mind; he had dealt with the pests before, and even the fact that they liked to swarm did not deter him. Besides; many of them had fed on illusionary mages, and illusionary energy does not tend to drive a creature long...


((Wow, I actually got some sleep.. ))