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Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby The Watcher » Sun Apr 17, 2011 3:02 pm

As the dagger landed in the soil at their feet with a dull “thunk,” the Tribesmen instantly nocked arrows to bowstrings, becoming a bristling hedgehog of orichalcum points ready to let fly. With no other threat forthcoming, one of the men stepped forward, a fierce younger man with the look of a leader about him, carrying a saw-edged shield and a menacing toothed sword made out of some dull brownish-red metal. Shifting the shield to his back, he bent down to pick up the dagger, and the messages attached to it.

The lettered paper meant nothing to him. And though one could guess at the pictographs, they were an inherently uncertain medium. The men paused, trying to discern what it meant. The first was clear; they were being warned that they were under the eye of trained guns. This was at least encouraging, since it meant that the unseen gunmen had bothered to pause and let them know of their danger, rather than simply open fire.

The next was less certain. “A broken crown,” one man whispered. “Do they dare ask us to stand against the Orichalcum Throne by this?” snarled another. The leader shook his head. “I don’t know. There are many kings, and many crowns in the lands, known and unknown. The royal palace is said to have a room stacked with conquered crowns from floor to ceiling. It could be anything, any ruler.”
“It may be an ultimatum,” another pondered. “Stand with us against this broken crown, or be destroyed with it. If the crown is not meant to be King Phaedrus’…”
The leader shook his head. “We can’t know for certain, and until we do, we cannot risk action. The King’s alchemists will know what to make of this.”
Turning to face the woods, he spoke boldly, his foreign words likely meaning nothing to the unseen observers, but feeling the need to speak them anyways.

“We do not know what is meant by your message, Strange Watchers. We cannot give you your answer now. We will leave this place, and when the wisdom of the alchemist derives your meaning, you will have the Bronze Host’s reply.”
With that, the tribesmen made a show of turning about and leaving quietly, marching back the way they came.

------------------------------
“I like the feel of this place not at all,” a tribesman said uncertainly. “It stinks of fear and foulness and magic. Already our eyes play tricks upon us in this damnable fog.”
Their leader swallowed, then shook his head. “I like it no more, but our orders are orders. On our honor and our duty to the King, we must search this place at least a little further.”
Uneasy and now extremely on their guard, the tribesmen venture tentatively into the edges of the Twilight...
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby Eltharrion » Sun Apr 17, 2011 3:33 pm

"Are they taking it, or not?" One of the Warden asked in nearly soundless voice.
"Can't be sure, just be ready for engage them." Replied the other, clearly a leader of the team.
"I'd say we just shoot them now." Third one had come up into the conversation.
Then, few clicks cut the air with a deep whistle, and all of them went silent and low same time. The enemy was reacting somehow. They shouted something, but didn't seem hostile. Then, with a slow turn, they walked away.

"...You do know we could still shoot them", third Warden mentioned. But no, the orders had been clear. Still, it seemed these people didn't leave any reasonable answer, saved from their jibbering, and thus no way to react to them.

"Either they are going out to get some answers: didn't seem they had any real ways of communicating trough long distances. That, or they are just going to get some more army to burn this place down. Send out the scout team. They should tell this in person to the Ruler. We might have to kill yet again."

With that, the unit took deeper into the woods, covering up to their location. Scouts took off, and the Ruler's corsair knew about these news very soon.

At the same time, Daughter of Sun was getting ready in her cabin: Sun was coming down, and she needed to take rest before it happened. Soon the Son would wake, and she didn't want to be around him. Too much pain, both emotional and physical.
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby DeadPigeonGolem » Sun Apr 17, 2011 5:09 pm

It was nearing noon.

The Sixth Army stopped to eat, reforming the protective circle they had when they had stopped at the Gap. General Menesthecles halved his drome force. By this point, only four dromes were at both the Steamscale and the Fire and Stone. The vast majority of intelligence had been obtained, all that was needed was a monitoring force. As such, there were now 92 dromes, 44 of which General Menesthecles now sent out towards the forces of The One, along with his Dominix Corps.

They would arrive in an hour (top speed of dromes = 30 miles per hour. Approx. 30 miles from current position to The One, 4 days marching for the army) (one hour approx. = 1 post, since 12/15 = 0.8 ) (on that note: make sure your posts are efficient guys, because we only have the 15 posts to get through 12 hours without screwing ourselves).
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby Kithrune » Sun Apr 17, 2011 6:32 pm

"Full stop! take us down!"

Drakelius ordered the halt at Hermonie's request. Here they were, going to attack a foe they had never seen all for the sake of a few scouts and bombers.

Should that be their first action here? is that what they are to be known for, ravaging the forest in the name or revenge? No, they were civilized. they would not act like dwarves just because they were surrounded by them.

"You know," resoned Hermione,"These aliens have never even seen the dwarves from Draconia, maybe they aren't zealots seeking our hides. These guys in the north are hostile but what about the others? send a Master of Breath south in peace robes."

"Good idea Hermione. We set up camp here, send some blackscale north to scout the area furthers. and send a master of breath south. The one with the associates in linguistics." said Drakelius

"Why in blue blazes would a Master of Breath have a degree in linguistics?" asked Reginald.

"They have to do something in between burping thunder." said Hermonie.

Summery: The Steam Scale Army has stopped a half days march away from the Alliance position. three Blackscale (stealth units) are headed north on foot (all stealthed up and stuff). A master of breath in peace robes is headed south. For diplomacy. not murdering people with poison and lightning breath. dude is unarmed.
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby DeadPigeonGolem » Sun Apr 17, 2011 9:36 pm

Acid rain was quite bad for metal. Fortunately, this meant that the armor of the Dromes only partially lost integrity. It was also good that their cockpits had rain-shields made of a non-reactive, clear polymer. Not, of course, that it did much other than keep the rain out of their faces, but hey, visibility was increased. Either way, the dromes had only one chance, otherwise their armor would be made useless by this extreme acid rain.

Enough visibility for the dromes to stage hit and run attacks and for their cockpit cams to function somewhat well.

Like lightning and with cams transmitting live, dromes suddenly appeared from behind boulders and from pits made by the devastation. Knives and other blades now useless, they instead opted for bomb tags and stones. Tags were stuck to the earth and to bodies, stones thrown or otherwise used to batter the enemy. Two enterprising dromes even captured a tribesman, tagged him up with bombs, and threw him into the midst of some soldiers. Explosions and general chaos reigned, before the remaining dromes began to withdraw as fast as is physically possible. Those that fell to critical structural damage activated their self-destructs for a last hurrah.


(Notes: Dromes have extremely high agility and speed, and bombs have a detonation radius of 1 yard. Effect is compounded depending on number used within the detonation radius of one bomb. The captured tribesman (since they're pretty weak, I just went and assumed that he was easily captured) has 5 attached to him. Out of the 44, all have used one bomb tag and have only 1 remaining)

(Duke: I'm not sure how your forces would react to a lightning incursion like this, but you can assume that the entire attack took no more than 2 minutes. I also don't know how effective stones and explosives are towards your forces, so you'll have to calibrate damage as is. Finally, I don't know how fast you guys can react, so please keep my casualties to a reasonable level).

(One more thing: Ceramics aren't dissolved by acid very well. Ceramics have this tendency to simply be very non-reactive, which is why they're so useful for cooking (they don't impart flavors into the food).)
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby Shamus » Mon Apr 18, 2011 12:08 am

((Bit of a jump from miles away to right smack-dab on top of us...))

The Source reacted instantly. The falling rain would have to be ignored for the moment. As one the Guardians surged forward, each units attacking in its own way. The Watchers unleashed a volley of spears, arcing high and coming down out of the clouds upon the army of the One like the arrows of a vengeful god. A split second later the Orbs and Sentinels came crashing into the enemy, spewing forth steam and lightning respectively. Flame Spiders, Fire-Born, Lava Beasts, Golems, Dragons, and the Hydra came after.

Meanwhile, the Source held its ground, unwilling to commit to close in fighting just yet. The Old One raised his hands to the sky, his entire body bursting into flame. A mere moment afterward the ground trembled under the leading enemy's feet and became hot.

Present army situation:
102 Watcher spears just dropped in on the bad guys (Watchers are regenerating their spears on the run, closing with the others).

30 Sentinels and 50 Orbs are crusing along at head height, spraying steam and lightning all over the place. (I suspect the steam will be of little effectiveness, but the lightning will hurt. Also figure on a few heads getting run into.)

125 Flame Spiders, 55 Fire-Born (20 are still standing guard around the Old One), 30 Lava Beasts (7 still scouting, 3 KIA), 12 Golems, 6 Dragons, and the Hydra are charging, about to meet the enemy.

The Old One is up to something, and it probably won't be all hugs and kisses.

Assuming 25 Flame Spiders, another Lava Beast, and 20 Orbs as KIA due to long-range weaponsfire. I just pulled these numbers out of my... head.




Edit: I have to go, so I won't be posting for a few hours I'm afraid.
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby The Watcher » Mon Apr 18, 2011 2:32 am

Holding up the vial before her, Machaira shook it lightly, peering at its contents. Good; clear as glass, clearer than the clearest water. All had gone successfully then, and it was ready.

She glanced down at the papers before her, copied from the messages sent by the sun and moon. The originals had been rendered down, distilled of the knowledge they contained, the sum of a language transmuted into the vial before her by the combined efforts of her alchemist brethren. They gazed at her expectantly, from their positions in the alchemical seal that would protect them all in case something did not go as planned.

Rolling her shoulders, the Iorathian princess unstoppered the bottle, and swallowed its contents. Light shone briefly from her eyes, before they rolled up into her head and she collapsed on the pillowed floor, spouting in tongues. Wordlessly, the alchemists bore her out on the stretcher before her, to their medical tents. As they moved her the gibberish shifted, becoming distinct yet incomprehensible words in an alien speech.

When Machaira emerged from the tents an hour later, pale and drawn, she was no longer spouting nonsense, though her lips still twitched and shuddered with unspoken, half-whispered words. Despite her shaky stride and the deep circles under her eyes she marched straight from the sickbed to her king, slips of paper in hand.

"My lord Hakairon," she began, each word strained and deliberate as she fought against the aftereffects of the draught. "The mysterious watchers we encountered to the south are strangers to this place, as are we. They are an alliance of peoples, I know not what sort, who stand against a conqueror of their homelands, and they wish to know whether we are his servants. As their enemies they promised us death, but say that if we stand with them against this Emperor, we will be richly rewarded in their friendship." So finishing, she stayed as she was, kneeling before the king of the Phaedrin, occasionally weaving to one side or mastering a twitching of her lips as she fought their urge to unleash the torrent of foreign speech still resounding in her head.

King Hakairon looked beyond his Grey Warden, a fierce light in his eyes. "The Phaedrin serve none but the Phaedrin! We bow to no whims save our own. Reward us? Destroy us? They think we can be bought with threats and simpering whispers? They are fools! They have admirable spirit, the pride of a fierce people, but they are not of my Bronze Host yet, and so their gall should be chastized. Warden, you have done well. As soon as you have recovered, visit these people and inform them that the Phaedrin are slaves to none, and we will send any foolish enough to act otherwise to the coldest depths of hell! In my grace, I will accept their allegiance as a nation under the Orichalcum Throne, if they are wise enough to give it, but have them know that the Phaedrin will not be disrespected with such patronizing terms. If they desire that our might protect theirs, they must be taught that our benevolence is earned, never demanded!"

------------------------------
As the king in bronze orders, so shall it be; Machaira and twenty Mirror Lancers as her honor guard ride out to the western woods, to parlay with the people of the Sun and Moon. With their mighty, antler-crowned riding beasts and masterwork orichalcum, they will traverse the distance much more swiftly, and present the men and women of the Alliance a much more grand and imposing sight than a score of illiterate tribesmen in poor red brass...
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby Avashka » Mon Apr 18, 2011 6:18 am

(( Apologies for the slow posting, I'm juggling a few things at once lately! ))

The small group of Tribesmen advance into the edges of the twilight, tendrils of pale, hazy mist looping and wrapping about them. The air is cool and heavy but seems to contain no threats, though it's very difficult to see in the dense fog. The dark, monolithic 'ground' is visible, as is a set of tall, jutting spires far ahead, yet there seems to be no-one else in the area with the Tribesmen. The 'ground' is slightly soft, like loamy earth, underfoot, and though it trails away from each tribesman's feet as he walks it doesn't seem to remain like proper dirt or grime does-- instead streaming away like vapor.

The more canny-eyed of the group would notice several inky, almost shiny patches on the 'ground' surface just ahead that seem to slither and shimmer when looked at from the right angle. The patches are laid out relatively randomly in the pathway leading up to the spires ahead. The spires, for their part, are so haze-shrouded that details are difficult to make out, instead appearing as silhouettes jutting from the fog. The quiet is unsettling.

(( A group of Takers have moved into the area. ))
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby Kithrune » Mon Apr 18, 2011 6:45 am

The Master of Breath flew into visual range of the sixth field army camp and saw what looked like the ground gleaming. large bulls, gleaming golemesqe war machines, strange looking dwarves in shinning armor.

no, not dwarves. they were something else, some strange, new primate based life form.

Landing in front of what he guessed was the tent of the leader. bowing before the guards he brought a large metallic cube from under his robes. A deep, crackly, Draconian voice emanated from the box.

"I am Lord Regent Drakelius Des Morte of the Steam Scale and this is one of my servants. I wish to speak with your leader."
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby Eltharrion » Mon Apr 18, 2011 6:27 pm

Kokredomi, son of the Moon, rose up in his cabin of the leading Corsair. Again, he had slept trough the day, shaking in fear of the glowing ball of fire on the sky. He couldn't stand it. It was too bright, too revealing, too... Intimidating.
Silently, he dressed up to his clothes: Light, full-body concealing silver-black suit, face mask, hood, night-vision glasses and gloves. Not a single piece of skin left to be revealed, and with a man-sized ring of metal and silver glow on his back. Then, he walked away to the hallway and up to the deck.
Ruler had called him, and he would obey.

"Ah, Kokredomi, you are awake I see. Very good. Scouts will tell you the situation. Prepare to mobilize."
The scout unit from the forest's border explained the situation to Son, and he nodded silently. Then, rolling out a old-fashioned map still bit wet from ink, Ruler continued.

"Seems like they might be coming back to us: Scouts have reports of something moving in the open. Seems to be fast mobile unit, not something meant to destroy us, I'd say. I want you to go and intercept them on the border of our secured area. Take 13th and 16th mobile units with you, as well as squads 3-F and 7-A. Use them as you see fit. Order 34 is in effect: Do not shoot unless they seem to be hostile. But do not let them take the initiative."

Another nod, and the Son was gone. Dashing trough the woods, leaving quick hand sings to the nearby wardens. Few moments and radio signals, and both Raider units joined them. They cut trough the forest like a whisper trough the wind, and arrived at the location where the enemy had been sighted.
Raiders took a line, keeping their silent engines running and ready to launch. Two snipers of the units searched the best spots from within the woods, taking good line of sight in front of the Son. Remaining Wardens scattered around, diving on their stomachs to the ground and activating their stealth equipment. With no movements, it was nearly impossible to be able to tell there was even something out of ordinary on the spot.
And there, Son was standing silently in front of the Riders, bathing in the rising moon's glow and drawing power from it, one of the female Raiders next to him, her vibro-longsword drawn out and her board in her hand.

---

On meeting spot (visible contact to the mirror lances when preparations ready):
Son of the Moon
10 Raiders (9 behind forming a line, one standing next to the Son)
2 Sniper Wardens (hidden among the trees)
10 Wardens (Scattered on the field's sides for about 15 meters each direction, stealth equipment on)
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby DeadPigeonGolem » Mon Apr 18, 2011 8:50 pm

((An emissary? Jeez, I knew I should have posted quick last night....))

General Menesthecles was at an impasse. He could either ignore the emissary and risk alienating an ally, or he could wait and enter negotiations, but possibly lose the initiative.

He eventually decided on a compromise. He went to the line of battle, preparing his troops while sending an emissary to receive the emissary from the Steamscale.

"The General would bid your honorable lordship to wait and observe the following battle. He hopes that the wait will not be too long and that the Sixth Army of the Eigth Alliance of Myrmidion present a truly glorious show for your partaking. He does not feel that it would currently be advantageous militarily of him to delay any longer and sends you his most solemn apologies."

Meanwhile, the troops had formed a somewhat interesting line of battle. Technically, the line was four ranks deep, but actually consisted of six ranks of soldiers. Each battalion of 80 men formed a trapezoidal formation with two ranks to the narrow end of the trapezoid (the “head ranks”) and two ranks each for the two slanted edges (the “wing ranks”). The back of the trapezoid was left open and the space within filled with ten gastraphes. The ends of one trapezoid touched the ends of two other trapezoids, making a chain of trapezoids eight battalions wide with two held in reserve. The first rank consisted of 15 men while the second through sixth consisted of 13. The wing ranks formed a 150 degree angle with the head ranks, meaning that at the point of connection between two formations, the angle between the two trapezoids was 120 degrees wide. The gastraphes worked within the bounds of the trapezoid, picking off any enemies in range while concentrating on high-ranked enemies. Behind this trailed the Patakos walkers and the Mouls, protected by the reserves in case of a flanking attack. After a brief analysis, General Menesthecles positioned Knotolis and his Tauros on the right flank. Overhead, Koraki, Euclid Flight, Fermat Flight (neither of which had discovered anything interesting), Gauss Flight, and the two remaining planes from Reimann Flight flew overwatch, freshly bolstered by six replacements ((6*75 = 450/500 used), two of which joined Reimann Flight and the remaining four creating Caval ((Cah-val)) Flight. ((Total Celihdes: Koraki + 20 planes)). The Tauros had, meanwhile, obtained a new member to fill in the gap left by a man lost in the transfer from Myrmidion to here, bring the total up to 24 Tauros ((1 Tauro Prowler = 50 points, 500/500 used)). The dromes, 11 of which had been lost ((33/44 in the strike force remaining, then added to the unharmed 46)) wandered behind the main line, ready to shank anyone who somehow made it through.

Set into formation, the army crested over a small ridge 1000 yards away, having been plenty visible for a long time ((Duke, you have to admit that you totally could have attacked me preemptively)) but, luckily, never attacked. They arrived in time to see the Guardian begin its ascent.

“Gauss, Euclid, Fermat, engage the flying hostile!” ordered Koraki. “Reimann, Caval, you’re on me! Buzz Bomb the enemy, attacking targets of opportunity!” All flights obliged. Koraki dived with an Unholy Screech with Reimann and Caval Flights following behind. They each engaged a cluster of soldiers/elites/commoners with a single line of sight missile, following it through to impact before pulling up and level, then breaking in various separate directions. The Celihdes of Gauss, Euclid, and Fermat flights locked on a heat seeking missile each to the Guardian and its cargo, then unleashed their collective fury.

Below, the assault had been preceded with a barrage of practically silent Patakos cannon fire (reload: 20 seconds between shots), smashing into enemy formations like so many thunderbolts of Zeuz. Next came to cracks of the Gastraphe HAP Cannons blowing soldiers and elites completely apart (reload rate: 8 seconds between shots). There was a temporary lull where the Tauros, led by a fire-ball unleashing Knotolis, slammed into the enemy lines with a mass Charge, before turning left, Bashing there way through as much of the line as possible while staying relatively safe, then turning back to the left flank of the Sixth Field Army. Just behind them came the Hoplites and Tanios walkers leading them advanced into “cannot miss range” and unleashed hell. The 120 degree angle between each battalion meant that not only did the first two ranks fire directly into the enemy, but the 3-6 ranks of each battalion caught the enemy in a deadly crossfire, sending metal slamming into armor and flesh. Even more terrifying, long days of drills (and with some help from the Tanios Walker's Coordinate function) allowed the four ranks to fire 1.25 seconds from each other, keeping a constant barrage of projectiles. Behind them, the Patakos and Gastraphes renewed their fire, keeping away from the front line in order to save their own men.

((As before: Duke, you'll have to decide how many I finish off. I'm going to work under the assumption that the initial attack is simply an attack that does damage. When you write a counter attack, I'll deduct units as necessary. Keep in mind, however, that you've just come under a combined forces assault that rolled from one attack to another to another to another to another.))

((Note: 640 Hoplites, 13 Tanios, 81 Dromes, 100 Gastraphes, and 10 Patakos advancing in formation. 20 Tauros have staged and smash and grab strike. 12 Celihdes are providing ground assault, while 12 more are attacking the flying Guardian. 160 Hoplites and 2 Tanios are in reserve with 100 Mouls.))
Last edited by DeadPigeonGolem on Tue Apr 19, 2011 7:51 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby Shamus » Tue Apr 19, 2011 5:32 am

The Guardians fought on, regardless of the losses due to their enemy's advanced weapons.

A Lava Beast threw itself through a formation of Soldiers, ignoring the sting of their weapons, trampling them as it seized one in its jaws and savaged him like a dog, only stopping after two Elites fired rockets into its side and destroyed it outright. The unfortunate Soldiers were splattered with hot magma.

A Sentinel was torn apart by rockets and gunfire, tearing apart and crashing in a deceptively slow manner, pieces flying across the field, injuring allies and enemy alike.

A Dragon shuddered to a stop, seemingly surprised as repeated volleys of rocket fire tore its hindquarters and body to pieces of shattered rock and oozing magma. It let loose one final breath of fire and brimstone, flaring out into the sky as it died.

Another Golem fell, its legs blown out from under it, tumbling down with a resounding crash, crushing a group of Fire-Born and Flame Spiders locked in battle with Servants and Soldiers.

Flame Spiders swarmed across the field, half hidden against the chunks of hot magma and the heat of the ground. They jumped atop their enemies, biting and stinging. Their stinging was hampered by their opponents' half metallic composition. As they sought to find patches of flesh to inject with their deadly cargo, they found themselves being shot and stabbed, which proved almost as bad for their enemies, as their "blood" spattered about.

The Hydra flailed about, its breath claiming many enemy lives.

The Source was nearly as shocked as it had been when it first came to this realm. It could not understand how the Guardians could be so easily struck down. They had never faced an enemy such as this.

The arrival of the Sixth Army was therefore welcomed. There was no way to express gratitude, nor did the Source understand the concept, but it experienced as much as it could.

Throughout all of this, the Old One maintained his concentration. The ground continued to grow hotter (at the leading edge, he lacks the power to engulf the whole army) and still trembled. It would be some time yet before the enemy felt his wrath.


Army as it stands:

Flame Spiders: 83 remaining, 67 KIA
Fire-Born: 37 remaining, 20 guarding Old One and 18 KIA
Orbs: 39 remaining, 31 KIA
Watchers: 92 remaining, 10 KIA
Soot Wraith: 20 remaining, none have joined battle yet and the stray shots headed their way haven't been very dangerous
Lava Beasts: 20 remaining, 7 scouting and 13 KIA
Sentinels: 25 remaining, 5 KIA
Golems: 9 remaining, 3 KIA
Dragons: 6 remaining, 1 KIA
Old One: Relatively safe at a distance
Hydra: In the thick of it, but too badass to die right off
The Source: Not yet attacked
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby DeadPigeonGolem » Wed Apr 20, 2011 3:02 am

The line held, despite it all. If there was one advantage of such a rigid formation, it was that it was extremely defensible. True, the whips of the enemy cracked against the shields and many a not-quite-wary hoplite was literally ripped apart in their cockpit (-100 Hoplites), but the line held, and in fact held well. The enemy's swarming nature meant that the line's crossfire was less effective then expected, but this was easily corrected.

Then suddenly: chaos. One of their own had betrayed them in Battalion 4!! (-5 Gastraphes, -25 Hoplites) Wait, that wasn't right...

"INFILTRATOR!!!" shouted a General Menesthecles into his radio. "Gastraphes, kill it!!" The remaining gastraphes of Battalion 4 turned their guns on the faux-hoplite while two ranks from Reserve Battalion 1 moved up to surround and destroy the enemy. ((At rest, Hoplites arrange in an 10 wide and 8 deep formation, so 20 hoplites are now engaging)) Reserve Battalion 2 moved up to reinforce the line, dispersing into each formation, as did the remaining 60 units of Reserve 1, bringing the battle line back to full strength, if temporarily. The dromes, at this point, had elected to stay out of the fight. Open battle was not their strong point, after all. They remained ready to stab any injured enemies who managed to survive.

---

Meanwhile, the enemy seemed to have forgotten the Dominix prowlers. True to their nature, they were silent cats, prowling around the edges of the battlefield, searching for a succulent lamb to consume.

They had found it. A Priestess stood/lay in a trance, transforming into a drome.

With a flicker of light, a Dominix exploded into view, rapidly accelerating with Sprint, then flowing into a Tackle to pin and hopefully kill the devil-woman, then following up with a Bite to the neck and head for good measure. Nearby, another Dominix waited, still cloaked, to finish off the enemy if necessary.

((Okay, look. I know people are going to scream foul, so let me explain: I stated earlier in a post that both Dominix Prowlers and Dromes had advanced ahead, yet only my Dromes ambushed the enemy. It stands to reason that the Dominix were around somewhere, but hadn't engaged anyone. Therefore, I am allowed to "hold them in reserve" until necessary.))

---

Back at the front, Horaki and her Celihdes circled back around, their initial strikes successful in driving the majority of the enemy from the field, as well as destroy a high-priority target. A transmission from General Menesthecles commanded them to find the enemy commander as well as any other high-priority targets of opportunity. This was a difficult proposition, but Gauss and Euclid took up a search orbit, scanning for said commander. A rampaging Guardian caught Koraki's eye and she peeled off to engage, locking a heat-seeker and a LOS missile to the enemy, launching both, then going full afterburner to make it virtually impossible to engage her. Caval Flight followed as back up, but understood that this was Koraki's kill. Fermat and Reimann defaulted to attacks of opportunity and Dive-Bombed the Elites and Soldiers still engaging the Line while Knotolis lead his Tauros back for another running of the bulls (a Charge).

At the sight of tunneling enemies, there was a collective "oh-shit". None of the soldiers were equipped to defend beneath-ground assaults. General Menesthecles ordered units to break up the line, allowing Tanios walkers to coordinate their battalions of Hoplites, aiming to isolate and crush the still-above-ground enemy, while the Gastraphes and Patakos beat an ordered withdraw to continue provide supporting fire. Dromes stepped in to assist where necessary, preferably with exploding tags, but continued holding their distance. No sense getting killed. Wait, where was that one guy?!

---

Total losses:
125 Hoplites
5 Gastraphes
1 Drome

Army Count:
675 Hoplites
95 Gastraphes
80 Dromes
100 Mouls
10 Dominix
10 Patakos
24 Celihdes
24 Tauros
2 Heroes
1 General
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DeadPigeonGolem
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby Shamus » Wed Apr 20, 2011 3:27 am

In the midst of the fighting, there was a sudden explosion near the Source. It rocked the Source, blinding and blocking its "sight" for a moment.

It quickly checked with its troops and ran up a damage report. Some sort of glowing human had fallen to the ground, then exploded. The blast had damaged one of the Source's rings, dispersed three Soot Wraith too close to it, taken out seven Fire-Born guarding the Old One, injured his Dragon mount, and blown the Old One off his perch. This disrupted his concentration and ruined his spell. He staggered to his feet. Unlike the standard Guardians, the Old One was more fragile, but had apparently survived this attack.

The explosion had left a crater a couple hundred feet across. The Source examined it and instructed all units to make engaging any glowing humans a priority in the future.
Last edited by Shamus on Wed Apr 20, 2011 4:18 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Plains of Blood III- Game Thread

Postby DeadPigeonGolem » Wed Apr 20, 2011 3:35 am

Back with the Field Army, there was a collective "FUCK" as the shockwave, diminished by this point but still there, destabilized the Hoplites. Insert opening for rapid dealing of death blows.

---

The Dominix attacking the priestess also swore. The backup decloaked due to falling over rather hard. The one in mid-attack stumbled and his Tackle failed. The fall disoriented the pilot, leaving him open to a shank.


((Also, you now have SEVERAL openings, Duke))
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