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Author Topic: [Strolens Citadel] Plight of the Scribes - The Great Patriotic War  (Read 14361 times)

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Offline Scrasamax

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Re: [Strolens Citadel] Plight of the Scribes - The Great Patriotic War
« Reply #25 on: April 21, 2006, 03:12:09 PM »
The rain of arrows abruptly stopped, the wards deflecting them away from the citadel. After several more vollies were knocked harmlessly away, the rain ceased. The archers looked concerned, they hadnt expected mercenary mages to come to the defence of the Citadel. The Elf paced back and forth as the men took up their own positions outside of arrow range from the walls. The stench from Arrkrash's corpse was begining to blow away...

if the citadel were only closer to the water...


Stout Lagerale of the Dwarven Guild
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Offline MoonHunter

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Re: [Strolens Citadel] Plight of the Scribes - The Great Patriotic War
« Reply #26 on: April 25, 2006, 11:49:40 PM »
MoonHunter ran up to Strolen. Then he noticed "them". Not waiting for the catapult, and realizing he could throw them almost as far and that Strolen could call forth more, he simply began to lob the creatures into the horde.  Eventually something interesting would come to his mind that would be more effective.

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Offline Scrasamax

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Re: [Strolens Citadel] Plight of the Scribes - The Great Patriotic War
« Reply #27 on: April 26, 2006, 07:38:49 AM »
For once in their unwashed lives, the barbarians were taken completely by surprise. The whrill  EEEEEEEEEE! of the shrews as they flew through the air drew their attention. Once barbarian who was not quite as a mean or evil as he made himself out to be though to catch one of the falling rodents before it hit the ground. Such tactics were not beyond the horde itself, but to see them employed by the Citadel was quite another.

A few seconds later, hands extended, the barbarian made a perfect catch...and then exploded!

*****
The Elf laughed, and called up his second in command, the Champion of Immortal Evil. "Are they ready?" The elf asked.

"Yes, milord. They number 12, each has been prepared to your liking and fitted with the barbed silver armor as requested." The Champion said.

"You do not look healthy, do you plan on dying?" the elf asked.

"It is just a side effect of working with the sciofluids to make the sark-hounds. I do not plan on dying any time soon, why do you want to rummage through my stuff or have a keep sale?" The Champion asked. The Elf only laughed. Below the mount where he observed the battle, a number of glittering silver balls were being loaded into trebuchets. The Elf hoped that the undead creatures within the armor shells would remain functional after being fired from the giant slings and into the center of the keep. He hoped that given the rather furry nature of many of the citadel inhabitants that the cost of the silver armor would pay for itself. He gave a shout and in quick succession the slings fired their cargos, four sarks to a sling, a shotgun delivery of zombies.

The silver spheres sailed through the air, with the first coming up short, the silver clad zombies splattering against the walls of the citadel. With some luck, one or two might reform in a day or so, but that was too long. The others cleared the wall and their silver carapaces pierced the protective arrow wards raised by the Comet mercenaries. One sphere smashed through the ranks, killing several of the mercenary mages and wounded several others. The sphere creaked as its cargo moved, hinges opened and revealed the animalistic undead within the silver shell.

The creautre lunged, swinging its silver bladed forelimbs at the mercenaries closest to it and snarling with animalistic fury, its face a black piece of steel bolted over the eyes...



Sark Hounds
http://www.strolen.com/content.php?node=2066


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Offline Ria Hawk

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Re: [Strolens Citadel] Plight of the Scribes - The Great Patriotic War
« Reply #28 on: April 26, 2006, 05:23:27 PM »
Ria got out of Moon's way when the big theriothrope started flinging shrews.  It was just as well; she could barely manage the catapult.  Then the silver spheres started flying into the courtyard.  She peered over the edge of the wall nearsightedly as the creatures started attacking.  "Great."  Well, at least, they were fairly obviously undead.  Two choices immediately leapt to mind to deal with the threat, because it didn't look like the mercenaries were going to fare too well.  Neither choice was someone she really wanted to deal with right now.  She got Strolen's attention.  "We got any undead currently on staff or just anywhere in the Citadel?"
Sometimes angels fall from grace, and sometimes heroes die.

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