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Plains of Blood (IC thread)

Plains of Blood (IC thread)

Postby Hetros » Wed Sep 08, 2010 10:35 pm

The Gawds play games with the souls of men as their pawns, and the plains of blood are merely another such game. This time centered on the strange world of Cog, where each army, through natural disaster or through their unknown master have been placed upon the central gear of Cog, somewhere, to do battle and fight until only one is left. The inhabidents of cog have no idea what has happened, only that strange new beings, terrible in their strength and power, have appeared. ((alright boys :P have at it))
Last edited by Hetros on Thu Sep 16, 2010 5:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Plains of Blood

Postby HavocHamster » Wed Sep 08, 2010 10:50 pm

In the south of the great Cog, centered around a landmark known as the Sumpwich Peninsula, lay the kingdom of Diluvia. Transported from their own terrible world to a new land, the King finds himself sorrounded by new enemies. Bloodthirsty monsters, calculating machines and unfeeling undead. Forces seeking to subjugate, to enslave and to destroy.

However, Diluvia would not prove easy prey to any of these forces. For in every forest, in every village and in every manor house dwelt the brave men and women of the Knightly Orders. Knights who have stood vigilant in the defense of their land and its peoples for centuries, since the time of the great king Menseverius II. Diluvia has long been a kingdom under siege, and yet no fortifications can be found. This is a testament to the stalwart determination of the Knights.

------------
Diluv Manor

Diluv Manor, home of the reigning King of Diluvia, Archibald Diluvianis. Gathered before him were his greatest champions.. Reginald Arcturus, The Duke of Sumpwich, Sir Carl Nottingburg, Helerio Abgrund, Knight Hero Grundig Koffman, Knight Hero Karen Orest, Knight Hero Armand Brimley, Knight Hero Remus Felthrop, Knight Hero Richtor Selten and Knight Hero Morris Chauchesko.

The King calmly sipped wine from a pewter goblet and stroked his neatly trimmed greying beard. "Enemies are gathering at our borders once more.. inhuman beasts, undead, and infernal machines. So really, more of the same. Yet.. I'm sure you've felt it. Something is different this time. The stars are wrong.. the mountains seem strange.."

"Dame Orest, Sir Koffman, Sir Brimley, Sir Felthrop, Sir Selten and Sir Chauchesko. Take with you each three score knights on the quest I am about to send you on. Go out across this wordl, discover the lairs in which the wicked hide, find the havens where the just still live, bring back this information to myself and Duke, and we will know how we must proceed.."


--------

the Knight Heroes, taking with them 30 Knights and 30 Knight Marksmen each, go in all directions, spreading out and exploring the world.
Last edited by HavocHamster on Wed Sep 08, 2010 11:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Plains of Blood

Postby Avashka » Wed Sep 08, 2010 11:51 pm

Shial-Rhun

The sands of the mountain-wreathed desert in the center of the Cog slowly part in an avalanche of sediment, cascading downward as the city of Shial Rhun rises once more. This was not the world it formerly claimed home; nor was its old home anything its inhabitants would ever recognize. The city sits dormant, empty and cold, its gleaming white spires reflecting the false sun above.

Though the city above seems dead, the city below is far from it. Shial-Ar warriors, their skin traced with luminous markings, are hard at work excavating tombs filled with great warriors and knights of the past, while servants guide immense cauldrons of blood and strange-smelling herbs to their vital places. The necropolis of Shial Rhun is alive with movement.

And in one corner of the darkest tomb, a slumped figure on a palanquin raises a hand to his waiting Blood Knights. A single, sibilant whisper: "Release the hawks."

As Shial Rhun mobilizes, a great dark cloud of Blood Hawks-- easily a thousand in number-- swarms out from its towers, spreading out to orient their masters in this strange world, to learn the lay of the land and where the living might be found.

Current Active Forces:
The Riven King, 100 Shial-Ar warriors, 1000 Blood Hawks (total of 3500 points currently mobilized out of 25000)
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Re: Plains of Blood

Postby The Automator » Thu Sep 09, 2010 12:25 am

Deep down in the palace bunkers of Cedon, the leaders of New Kasena meet to discuss what they are going to do after finding themselves so far away from familiar lands, the King, Sulman Lazher sits at the head of a long and worn table that was used by the old monarchists in the revolutionary war, it's an old table etched with stains and gouges in its once polished wood. The King hold a long flat metallic device that he uses to flick through images captured by the scrying devices cooked up by the Arcana-Engineers.

Pictures of volcanos and mountains, long stretches of deserts and deep woods. Fortresses under mountains and dead cities swarming with eagles, white skinned peasants working outside great estates, mile long aircraft crashed into lakes, the gear-toothed eged of the world they'd found themselves on, and the false sky burning overhead.

"Aside from our initial findings from the Knave in the camp of the giants." King Sulman says, the Knave grins broadly, "We have found several other large militarised factions abroad in the lands. We don't know of they have any hostile intent but by the looks of it we can expect to intercept a few scouting parties soon. Some of these groups have a high amount of magical power so I want everyone on the lookout for anything in the Cedon Mountains, Kasena Valley, or the Karhamani Badlands. If anything turns up, we want it intercepted. Ahura Sena, that's your job for now."

Ahura nodded silently, while the others gave her a look that spoke of what little trust they would place in the woman.

"Altan and Odis, you two are our best men, and our hope for these coming months. The people will be looking to you, so make yourselves public. You're not in retirement anymore, the Burning Dawn Army is sending out the call to arms to rally again in defense of Kasena and its people. So you two ride around and just make sure people keep talking, we want them to know that their heros are still out there."

The two men nodded, Odis paying dutiful attention, but Altan was only barely doing so he was doodling on the old table with a discarded inkpen.

"And the Knave." King Sulman looked at the slimy cyclops with disdain, "We want information but we also want other people to not have information, you're to be put in the field and will be moving to intercept enemy scouts, a detachment of Kahramani Militia and some of the vigilantes from the city will be sent with you and you will await orders, do you understand?"

The Knave gave a salute, grinning broadly with an earnest "Yes boss."
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Re: Plains of Blood

Postby Sir Malifact » Thu Sep 09, 2010 3:12 pm

The Black Company was situated in the depths of the forest, makeshift lean-to's and tents dotting the spaces between the tree's. At the center of the camp, a bonfire roared fearsomely; and gathered around it were the officers of the company. The Major, the Captain, along with the Lieutenant's and Sergeants all sat hunched by the fire. The Colonel looked down at his men, the firelight playing across his grizzled features to uncanny effect. "So then. Let's just reiterate, shall we?"
"We've no idea were we are, nor how we got here. This... world, or whatever it is, is artificial. There's food and shelter, but not much else. And the majority of our men are lying sick in their bedrolls from whatever it was that brought us here"

The men nodded silently; they'd conducted reconnaissance the morning they'd woken up, and found themselves not in the Attican Desert, but in a thickset forest that stretched for miles. A good portion of the Company had been either injured or struck sick by the arrival, and as such, were unfit for combat.

"We've scouted and mapped the land here, and found nothing. We need to get out of this blasted expanse, and find out just where the hell we are and just what the fuck, exactly, is going on. I want answers, and I want them fast. If you come across natives, do not move to engage; we're fish out of water here, and starting fights won't get us home any faster."

"We're going to be mobilizing. Tell the men to pack up camp; we're vulnerable as long as we stay in one place. I want everything put away before dawn strikes, we'll march at the midday sun. Now get out there and spread the word." The officers nodded and rose from beside the fire, filtering out into the night and to rouse the men.

On the morrow, the Black Company would march.

The Black Company, at it's present strength, numbers at 300 Companions, 200 grunt Marksmen, 100 Riflemen, 4 Hellfire Cannons, The Colonel, The Major, and the Captain, five medics and four mages for a total of 25000/25000 points. To represent a steady influx of troops, wounded men will recover with each page.
Last edited by Sir Malifact on Thu Sep 09, 2010 8:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Plains of Blood

Postby Malyuta Skuratov » Thu Sep 09, 2010 4:28 pm

"My liege! Are you alright, my liege?!"

An old man had recognized a familiar voice calling out his title. It seemed distant, yet close. The man couldn't move, he couldn't see, and he couldn't speak. However, he could think. He was attempting to rationalize and become aware of his current setting.

'Alright. No need for haste. Start off slow. Who am I? I... I cannot fathom... what happened...'

"SAOSHYANT. DELIVERER OF SALVATION UPON THIS BLEAK WORLD," a different voice had boomed.

The blackness around him slowly began to dissipate as he realized he could move his jaw and tongue.

"Who a-a-are... you?" the old man choked out.

"You are unsure? You must truly be jarred, or the imagery around you has not become clear."

"I-i-i-imagery? I canno-" The man broke off as he soon found the darkness was quickly and brilliantly usurped by a great shining presence. This light should have been blinding. It was so unbelievably bright, and it had come so abruptly, however, it was not painful or straining but rather invigorating to behold.

"Y-you are?"

"I am. I am the one who hath sculpted what you perceive as truth. I am the one with power sought after by the scourge of our world and this. I am him who shall prevail with my forces of righteousness and pious zeal to destroy the armies of untruth. You are not where you normally call home."

"No?"

"You were chosen by your people and myself to spread this message of truth across the land. You have proven yourself most capable. Fear not for where you might find followers in this desolate place. I shall send forth those that might preach this message of truth. I have also taken the liberty of bringing forth the threshold of your reign along with your sojourn. I shall speak with you in a later time."

"Wait! I have so many questions! Who am I?! Where am I?! Wh-"

And all of a sudden, the old man was coaxed awake.

"Father?!" the voice cried. From the address, the man recalled he had a son.

"X-xerxes? My child?"

"Father! You must come with me at once! Something unbelievable has happened!"

At once, Xerxes had helped his father regain his composure. He lifted his father off the ground and wrapped the king's arm around his neck. They made their way down the halls until they finally came to a balcony. The king, still groggy-eyed needed time to adjust to the influx of light streaming into the palace. His eyes finally came into focus, and it was here he realized the voice was right. The city of Babylon once placed in the heart of dozens of metropolises seemed to have been plucked from out the ground and placed into this foreign landscape. When the king looked out, he saw not the familiar sights of royal guards making their rounds or market stalls with merchants peddling their wares. He saw miles upon miles of untouched plains and desert. His palace seemingly dropped onto the grass while remaining perfectly level. As he turned around, he saw pictures, glyphs, and statuettes which he was able to identify as replicas of himself, and he gazed above to see his name 'DARIUS' emblazoned above these items. It all was coming back to him now.

"Xerxes... my son... what remains of our people?"

"Father, despite the journey, we do have a vast supply of troops, and that includes the Spartans auxillaries. We also have a few Chinvat messengers. Where... are we exactly?"

"I believe that is an answer only through the ingenuity of the Achaemenid Empire we shall discover."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Troops


1000 Anûšiya (10,000 pts.)

Elites

50 Spartan Auxiliaries (2500 pts.)

Spellcasters

20 Priests of Ohrmuzd (2000 pts.)

Heavy

10 Messengers of Chinvat (2500 pts.)

Heroes

Xerxes (750 pts.)

Leader

Darius (1250 pts.)

Super

Asha (1000 pts.)

Total

20,000 pts. 5,000 pts. left over.
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Re: Plains of Blood

Postby Hetros » Thu Sep 09, 2010 7:25 pm

Deep in ancient forests of Cog an earth works slowly came to life, glowing with ancient, haunting song. The Sithen was connecting to the World of Cog where the Unseelie had bargained for a chance to renew themselves on the nightmares of mortals.

Morgan LeFey sat on her throne of bones and blood red roses, looking over the nobles of her court, so few, already drained from this endeavor were even more drained from the energy required to link the Unseelie Sithen to this new, untouched, land. It would take time for them to recover, but their armies were still ready. She stood, holding up mortal dread and grinning a smile that would leave a man's legs weak from terror and awe. "Ride my knights. Ride and rekindle mortal fear and nightmares, show them to fear the ancient dark as they once did. We must show the men and women of this world, and the worlds of our opponents, that their old nightmares still live." The goblin host before her roared in approval, their varied weapons clattering against their shields as Ragoul egged them on, shouting war cries and building them into a frenzy.

The Slaugh stood to the side, apart as they always were in the massive hall, Nodens at the head of their table, his spear held in the crook of one arm, silent and watchful. Ready for the hunt as he always was as he looked on. His night flyers mingling with the ghosts and bogies flying up above the crowd, moaning and chittering excitedly.

Finally, Mordred, sitting at the right hand of his Mother, lounging in his chair with a wry grin on his face, his axe resting against his throne as he watched, waiting for his moment.

"Go now! Show them that it is right to fear!"

With a great cry the horde began to empty out, the front of the great earth works flairing brightly as Goblins, Ghosts, and various beasts rode out, lead by Ragoul and Nodens. Ragoul taking a large force of goblins, and Nodens taking his Slaugh to terrorize settlements throughout and along the edges of the forest, killing many, but leaving more than enough survivors to spread tales of terror and nightmares, already the host was growing stronger.

---
Ragoul has 1000 goblins, 5 Elf Knights, 100 Red Caps, and 100 Ghosts (3175pt force) they are focusing in the forest itself.
Nodens has 200 ghosts, 30 blackdogs, 10 fear dearg, 10 Nightmare Riders, and 10 Nightflyers (2350pt force) are moving along the outside of the forest.

Both will strike at any targets of opportunity they encounter, and will retreat from enemy forces as large as their own.
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Re: Plains of Blood

Postby The Watcher » Thu Sep 09, 2010 9:11 pm

Foreman-Commander Thomas Claine Rourke sipped his mug of recaf as it steamed in the early-morning haze. Behind him lay the monolithic bulk of the Minotaur, awe-inspiring and glorious despite its crippled and scarred state. Before him stretched endless wide-open plains and the glinting of a great lake, his for the taking. An enormous mountain range filled one corner of the horizon, promising untold mineral bounty, and a pristine forest filled another. It too would someday burn to feed Colonial industry. This world was strange, with its oddly flat sky, but that didn’t matter. Freak warp mishap or no freak warp mishap, they had landed here and it was their pleasure and duty to settle it in the name of the United Mining Colonies.

Looking down from his vantage point, his heart swelled with pride as he watched the chaos of industry that sprawled out before his vision. Colonial workers just hours ago awoken from cryosleep were already busying themselves with the daily grind of keeping Minotaur Camp up and running, uncomplainingly shouldering loads that would have crushed a low-gravity man flat. Already, they were beginning to put out feelers, and make contact with the indigenous. Rourke smiled idly as he recalled the first chaotic week after the crash-landing, when a native fellow had somehow managed to slip past all obstacles in his way, made it into Rourke’s office, and stolen a custom-made revolver from his desk before Connaugh finally chased him off.

With a smirk, Rourke wondered what the little man actually planned to do with the gun he’d stolen, as he patted his own plain, worn .50 AutoMagnum sidearm. He only hoped the thief hadn’t tried to use the stolen weapon; it was a .55 overcaliber double-action custom Colonial Arms magnum revolver, a very imposing but to Rourke’s mind ornamental gift that he hadn’t been able to refuse, complete with nickel finish, mother-of-pearl grips, and elaborate scrollwork. Letting a round off would likely have shattered most of the man’s bones from the elbow down and torn his arm out of socket.

Returning to his work, Rourke strode into the thick of the camp, a calm center in a storm of activity as he issued orders and suggestions left and right, taking stock of what they had as he watched mining crawlers and Cthon striders lumbering from the holds of the Minotaur. Many in his company had already been awakened from cryosleep, but hundreds upon hundreds remained within the cryogenics bays of the Minotaur, relying on him to repair the vessel so that they could be safely awakened. Buildings needed to be set up, mines needed to open, and the surrounding countryside was in sore need of surveying. Who knew what might await them on this strange, strange world…

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arclite-Sergeant Edward Connaugh glowered as he peered through the scope of his enormous rifle, surveying the capital of New Kasena with uncharacteristic emotion on his typically bland face. “This is the place all right. I would have shot that scumball, but Rourke told me to follow him back where he came from instead. I followed him up until the palace… but I was forced to leave. Felt funny, like I’d trip some sort of silent alarm by going in further. The people of that kingdom have psychic witchery on their side, I’d wager.”
Beside him, Forewoman-Lieutenant Greta Klein smirked to herself. Ed wasn’t an unpleasant person per se; in fact, he was normally very unobtrusive, reserved, and polite, but something about him made her extraordinarily uncomfortable, and that made it gratifying to see the normally unflappable Connaugh so rankled. “Still sore that some logie native got the drop on you, Connaugh?” she laughed slyly. “I heard Rourke’s paperweight pistol wasn’t the only thing the thief stole.”
Connaugh grew rather pink in the face. “Leave my niece out of this, Klein!”

“That’s Lieutenant Klein to you, Connaugh,” Greta snorted. “Very well. You’ve done your job; report back to Rourke. I’ll take things from here.” With one last, hungry look through the scope of his rifle, Connaugh nodded, sighed, and stepped away to vanish disconcertingly into thin air, as if there had never been a 300+ pound muscleman wearing 250 lbs of armor anywhere within the vicinity.
Greta sighed and rubbed her temples, before heading back to the mine crawler that sat waiting nearby with twenty four of her Militia subordinates and her beloved rotary autogun stowed in the flatbed. “Emperor, but I hate it when he does that… That man gives me such a headache sometimes.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A short while later, the Kasenan sentries would spot an unusual sight. A great box-shaped metal contraption surged across the road, throwing up a cloud of dust over a mechanical roar like an artificer hulk gone berserk. It then stopped, and twenty-five metal giants clambered out, not so much immense in height as simply immense. Of their number, one strode forward boldly, and with a twist, unseated its own head… only to reveal that the head was a helmet, and had been concealing the broad, heavy features of an enormous woman, over six feet tall and two wide, with skin as dark as the darkest Kasenan’s and black hair pulled back into a fountain of braids. This Amazonian apparition knocked three times thunderously on the main gate with a metal-clad fist.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, in Diluvia a rather surprised Border Knight would meet with a similarly bizarre vista, as a metal box clanked its way onto Diluvian lands. Dispelling his surprise, the knight simply reined up his charger and readied lance to attack this strange thing trespassing on King Diluvianus’ soil, but before he could do so it ground to a halt and several men climbed out. They resembled… knights, of all things, but if they were knights then they were very strange knights indeed. They were astoundingly huge, wearing strange, impossibly thick mail that seemed to follow their every movement rather than hang about them. At their fore was a bluff-looking old fellow, clearly their leader, middle-aged but hearty with a barrel chest, arms as thick as a man’s legs, greying blonde hair and a truly fortuitous moustache. In one hand he held a white banner. His men carried arms unbecoming of a knight, mostly picks and what appeared to be short swords, and cradling odd contraptions like a heavy crossbow with the bow swapped for a hefty steel tube. However, they made no move to use any of their implements.
“Well, hullo there!” the big man boomed in an odd accent, waving with his free hand. “Can you understand me?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Minotaur Camp was taking stock of the total forces at its disposal. Then Rourke sent out several more groups of scouts, including one south, to investigate the strange mirage that caused the horizon in that direction to seem so inordinately… curved…

Foreman-Commander Thomas Claine Rourke: 1,500 points
Strider Ace Hera McKinley: 1,000 points
Arclite Sergeant Edward Connaugh: 1,000 points
Forewoman-Lieutenant Greta Klein: 750 points
Command Crawler (named mining crawler): 50 points

20 Quad Riders: 1,000 points
1 Juggernaut: 100 points

50 Colonial Marines: 1000 points
250 Colonial Militia: 3,750 points
12 Samson Mine Crawlers: 600 points

10x Cthon Mining Striders: 2,500 points
5x Bulldog Armored Cars: 1750 points
4x Ajax SPAs: 3,000 points
2x Hercules MBTs: 3,000 points
Behemoth "Mama Bear": 4,000 points
Last edited by The Watcher on Fri Sep 10, 2010 4:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Plains of Blood

Postby HavocHamster » Thu Sep 09, 2010 11:39 pm

Diluvian Borderlands

Sir Neil Winthrop was having a rather calm day before these unexpected visitors appeared. Despite their enormous statures, they appeared to be both friendly and human. "I am Sir Winthrop of the Order of the Silver Shield and the House of Winthrop. As a knight of Diluvia, I have no quarrel with those who possess honest hearts." Despite his rather calm voice, it was quite apparent that the man was apprehensive about this situation.

A few moments later, a rather large group of knights could be seen approaching down the main road. These knights seemed especially distinct in their brilliant white armour, though it wasn't quite as well polished as Sir Winthrop's own silvery armour. One figure road at the head of the column, and upon seeing the Colonials, approached calmly. As the figure approached, it raises its visor, revealing the striking green eyes and red hair of a surprisingly young woman. "I am Dame Karen Orest, Knight Hero of the Order of the Maiden-Knight. Who are you?"


---------------

Central Mountains

Sir Chauchesko's horse was perched atop of a several hundred foot tall cliff, his cape billowed in the late evening breeze as the first stars began to appear overhead. "This land.. is desolate. And yet.. there's something amiss here..." The other knights were busily setting up camp nearby.

--------------

Western Forests

Armand Brimley stroked his stubble and puffed on his pipe, striking a most un-knightly profile. He shouldered his bow and adjusted his chainmail hauberk. "This forest is haunted, I imagine. So best keep your guard up, lads." He sighs and looks up towards the canopy for a moment. "If only I could be leading a detachment from the Order of the Maiden Knight.. these "Scarlet Geese" are such a drag.."

--------------

Western Lake Shore

Sir Gruendig Koffman shouldered his warhammer as his Ox stopped at the western shore of the lake to take a drink. He and his knights could quite clearly see some kind of half-submerged structure on the far side of the lake. No doubt the lair of one of Diluvia's future enemies..
Last edited by HavocHamster on Fri Sep 10, 2010 12:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Plains of Blood

Postby Avashka » Fri Sep 10, 2010 12:30 am

Central Mountains

The cloud of hawks had long since passed, but Sir Chauchesko and his knights would almost certainly feel an unsettling sensation in the air. Not as if they were being watched, but as if the air were heavy, laden with potential. Potential for something unnatural. As more stars make their shine known, the light gleams off the shimmering spires of Shial Rhun, none greater than that of the Imperial Palace itself, shining golden in the night.

Within the palace, the throne room sits cold and empty, only starlight filtering through the round medallion windows flanking the immense throne of the Emperor. His withered body lies still, only the faintest spark of life remaining in the husk. But that spark is slowly building. (1000 paid off, 6500 to go!) A single figure kneels before the the throne, massive himself and clad in red-tinted golden armour, worn and battered by the ravages of time.

"My lord. My father," says the kneeling warrior, his voice soft and strange, like the zephyrs rolling across the sands of the desert. "The hawks have flown. Night falls upon a new world; one of life, and yet of corruption. We may finally achieve ascension."

There is no verbal response from the shriveled colossus, but the kneeling warrior stands after but a few moments, offering a bow. "Of course, father. I shall rouse the cataphractoi. Preparations shall continue."

Above-ground, the city is desolate and dead as its landscape, but below, it is still a place of strange life; a small team of risen warriors work long and hard to break the seal on dusty tombs, while a nearby blood magus chants words of wakening, crimson claret spilling forth from his own veins to invigorate those of the long-still.

Elsewhere

Strange birds have been seen. Crimson in colour, soaring high on thermals or perched on branches, these mysterious hawks have been spotted all over the Cog. Watching. Waiting. They flee if bothered, but one or two seems to show up anywhere one looks. They seem harmless, but the dogs of the Hyperion know; their colour and sheen is the slickness of blood.

Current Active Forces: The Riven King, 100 Shial-Ar warriors, 1000 Blood Hawks, 100 Cataphractoi, 1 Blood Mage, the Reaver Prince. (total of 11950 points currently mobilized out of 25000, +1000 spent on the Emperor. Total of 12950/25000)
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Re: Plains of Blood

Postby The Automator » Fri Sep 10, 2010 1:51 am

The reception for the UMC's envoy was an odd one, the men in the watchtowers at the trade gates of Cedon were confused for a moment before checking the public notices and working out what they were dealing with, they were on the reference grid column 'huge' and row 'manageable', they sent out a call on the announcement system that there was a foreign presence at the gate, and oddly quickly the gate was opening, two men stood inside. The Knave of Cedon stood by, obviously unperturbed, the UMC was already aware of his policies regarding size versus how you use it. The other was Odis Velteros, in his nicely cut suit, his polished cavalry boots and his glorious mustache, the gun that had gone missing from Rourke's desk was tucked into his belt neatly by a heavy scimitar.

"You really weren't kidding when you said they were that big?" Odis asked the Knave.
"No, no. I would never lie." The Knave replied, shooting his giant visitor a charming smile.
"Of course not, but we're being ungracious to our guests." Odis stepped forward to the giant of a woman, somehow managing to not seem small even though he had to crane his neck back to look her in the eye, "We welcome you as guests of the Monarchy of New Kasena, you must have travelled far."
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Re: Plains of Blood

Postby Sir Malifact » Fri Sep 10, 2010 2:14 am

The Black Company was on the march, following the curve of the river as they began to move out. The men who were able were mounted on horses, with groups of outriders to the north, south, east and west; small bands of five or so grunts, along with a Companion to lead them. In the main column of men the officers were dispersed throughout the formation, slumped forward on their mounts. A massive wagon train of carriage-coaches, wagons, carts and makeshift barrows trailed along in the middle of this traveling army, containing within them enough supplies and raw material to keep the Company going indefinitely, and which, thanks to the scrounging nature inherent in many of the Company's recruits, could be replenished easily enough wherever they went. But room had had to be made in order to make a place for the wounded, and so the baggage-train carried not only food and supplies, but groaning, bed-ridden soldiers.

The Colonel was staring out ahead, his sharp eye catching the gleam of water from far, far over the horizon, before one of his lieutenants rode up to him, a short, skinny man that the men had nick-named Creeper "Sir.. there's something you should take a look at." He arched a brow quizzicaly, and the man handed him a short, thin telescopic sight in response. "Over there, Colonel" He motioned with his hand towards the eastern end of the colum, where a small, cone-shaped... thing... hung in the air.

"Thing's been followin' us for miles, Colonel'. An' the men were wondering, sir, whether we should git' Limper from the wounded wagon an' see if he can't have a go at it" Limper was one of the Company's top snipers, who was currently residing in the med-wagon. The Colonel rose the scope to his one, good eye, and peered through the lens. A purple machine came into focus, the many lenses on the orb on the bottom of the drone gleaming in the mid-day light. He lowered the scope, folded it back up, and handed it to his adjutant. "No. Get Croaker, Twitch, Markus and Bane. Tell them to come to me, mounted. Oh, and get that mage... Fidget, isn't it? It is. Get him too. I've got an idea."

Five minutes later, the requested - Companions, ten year-veterans all - rode out with the Colonel towards the Drone that had been trailing them. The Mage, Fidget, was busy muttering an incantation under his breath, preparing a spell should the mysterious creature turn out to be hostile. The Colonel brought his horse to a stop ten yards from the machine, and the rest of the men did likewise. The Colonel squinted against the morning light to get a clearer picture of the drone, before shrugging, and raising a hand. "Y'can hear me? If you can, show so. Otherwise my boy's here are blowing you out of the sky." At this, the men who'd rode with him shifted aside the cloaks they wore, revealing that each one had a rifle tucked by their side. They made no motion to use them, however.

Meanwhile, back at the main column, rumors began sifting through the men. They'd spotted birds; smallish ones, but they could tell by the shape of the wings they were hawks. Ambush predators, not trailers. Which was precisely what the bloody things were doing. Trailing them. A few of the riflemen rode out to try and shoot them down, thinking that they'd make for fine eating; but when they'd gotten the corpses, they'd found them already drenched in blood. Muttering of black magic, they rode back to the Column - and from there on word had spread. Now each and every able man rode with his weapon loose in it's sheathe, firearms loaded, bows knocked, blowpipes ready and crossbow's winched. The hawks weren't natural, and the thought of them raised other questions.

What the hell had covered those things in blood, and sent them to watch the Company?

No one had an answer, but there were plenty of theories. None of them good.
Sir Malifact
Demon
 
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Location: Throwing a party in the Fortress of Solitude...
Clan: Nal'sarkoth

Re: Plains of Blood

Postby Azurelite » Fri Sep 10, 2010 2:37 am

The Wolf North

Wulfric Ulfgar II sat in his tent, along with his sages and generals. A pit with a roaring fire sat in the middle of the table, while the men and women drank from goblets. "So, this is what my father talked about? Some strange world, where people fight, huh? Well, we'll be sure to show them how to fight!" The Wolf Lord King of the Wolfs slammed his goblet down. "We will show them the true power of the north, and claim this land for part of the Final Battle." The others around the table cheered and drank, except for the cloaked figure on the Wolf Lord King of the Wolfs' right. They whispered something into Wulfric Ulfgar II's ear, causing him to stand up. "Excuse me." The mighty man says, stepping out of the tent, the cloaked figure following. "You are much like your father, you shouldn't be throwing a feast like this, when you should be rallying the Wolf North. Start acting more like a proper Wolf Lord King of the Wolfs." Wulfric Ulfgar II stared at his advisor before waving them off. "You are lucky you served my father, because if you were anyone else, I would kill you were you stand." Wulfric turns to his tent. "I already know what I must do, you don't need to remind me, especially in he middle of a feast." Wulfric leaves the advisor standing outside.

The next day, Wulfric Ulfgar II met with his brothers and sisters once again. "Today, we start walking the path that will bring us to the Final Battle. Those here with us will try to destory us by any means. However, trickery and magic will not prevent us, True Warriors, from claiming our birthright. Today we begin a cycle of war, that will not end intill our time in the Final Battle calls." Wulfric Ulfgar shouts out to the massive crowd of the Wolf North. Wulfric raises his fist into the air, as the ground and trees start to shake as the entire Wolf North begins to cheer for their Wolf Lord King of the Wolfs.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Army

Wulfric Ulfgar II 2000

Horo 1000
Varin 1000
Scarwulf 1000

80 Berserkers 2000
120 Wolfmen 1800
60 Wolfman Cavalry 1800
40 Dire Wolfs 1000

800 Vikings 4000
300 Axe-Throwers 1500
300 Wolf-Wielders 1500
15,250 Wolfs 3050

20 Shaman 1500

7 Giant Wolfs 1750
1 Land Longboat 100

25,000 / 25,000
Azurelite
Tainted
 
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Re: Plains of Blood

Postby HavocHamster » Fri Sep 10, 2010 3:38 am

Central Mountains

Chauchesko muttered something rather pessimistic as he watched a few blood hawks circle overhead. "What a miserable land this is..." And with that, he and his expedition would continue their arduous trek..

Kasena

Sir Remus Felthrop, at the age of thirteen, was by far the youngest knight hero that ever was. Despite his polite and demure mannerisms and rather girlish looks, there burned within him the heart of a true warrior. After seeing his heroism demonstrated first hand on numerous occasions, the other knights of the Order of the Imperious Eagle no longer questioned him based on his age.

He and his entourage of some sixty knights would arrive on the southern borders of Kasena. "It's beautiful.." Remus said out loud as he surveyed the valley below.

Diluvia

"Hahaha! Today was a good day, my friends! We worked and sweated like men!" Carl Nottingham bellowed in a good natured tone of voice. "Through hard work, we can achieve anything!"

5000 + 500 points gained.

-1250 added to The Last King pool.
-200 Knights recruited
-225 Knight Marksmen Recruited
HavocHamster
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Location: The Frozen Sea of Stars

Re: Plains of Blood

Postby The Automator » Fri Sep 10, 2010 4:23 am

Kasena Valley

Kasena Valley really was the most beautiful part of the lands of the Lazher Monarchy, full sweeping lands with well cultivated fields that rippled with the cool winds that blew through the mountain, the clear waters of the river flowing from the dam at Lake Cedon carrying the great boats up and down the river to take produce and livestock to the city and the Kahramani badlands, all around were teams of farmers and in the distance one of the refitted conquest platforms ferried workers from field to field along with the seasons.

Sir Remus would get to a long road towards one of the riverside towns before he was stopped by a small group of locals, the vigilantes were on watch and had called on the local beastfolk to help them patrol the region. The young knight found himself confronted by a creature blocking the road that was all fur, claws and teeth under some loose robes while some of the local vigilantes lazily jogged to catch up with the beastmen.

"Foreigners!" Shouted one of the vigilantes while the catlike creature sniffed at the boy, "Sorry to stop you but due to circumstances we have to ask why foreigners are in this place."

----------------------

1000 Points saved for Superweapon development.
1000 Points for 10 Beastfolk.
1200 Points for 8 Arcana Engineers.
800 Points for 2 Arcana Hulks.
1000 Points for 4 Magefolk Sorcerors.
The Automator
Nether Spawn
 
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