[Strolens Citadel] Plight of the Scribes - The Great Patriotic War

[Scrasamax]

It has been almost two years since the goblin hordes laid siege to the citadel of Emperor Strolen.The corpses are long since disposed of, and many of the old defenders on the wall have moved on in their quests. New faces line the crenellations, new feet trod upon the stone floors. Many of these do not remember that valiant struggle, many do not remember the clay walls and rough floors. A few of us old-timers do, and the attack of the Horde is one not lightly forgotton.

Yet again the spectre of evil rises, casting its shadow across the walls and towers. The barbarian horde comes, beating upon their drums, driven on by their heartless master. They will assail our fortress with plan to cast down the walls, and burn the fields. The defenders are to be slain, and the women will be taken as prizes of battle. The horn sounds in the deep, calling the defenders to man their stations!

Da Rulz
Aside from the basic rules of good RP everyone who plays will have their character stats be based off of their Strolen Profile (level, number of submissions in a category, that sort of thing.) Some examples are in order...

Our victim will be Cheka Man...
Lv. 6  - when determining actions, I will use 6 dice for Cheka

2984 XP - dunno

0 HoH at time of check - This is for Spell Points, that right, your likely only going to be able to use 1 spell a day, so one spell a post. We are a very creative bunch and one spell should be plenty. Spells include summoning characters (NPC + post number) or for using an item (Item number please) So right now Cheka would be out of juice for casting spells, and would have to rely on his own skills and wits.

5 Votes at time of check - Votes are expended as actions, an attack is a vote, or multiple votes, cheka could put all five of his votes in his attack, or divide it up into f 1 vote attacks. Anything that would call for a dice roll (a serious one, not Do I Notice Anything, but I transform, I attack, I dodge for my life, etc. Use all your votes, and you are 'flat-footed'.) Ria asked a good question, some of our online persona's are associated with certain abilities, notably Ria summoning purple monkeys, or Moons shapeshifting. For these well established abilities, the persona in question would use a Vote point to execute. Someone, like myself, would have to spend a HoH point to use a power like that outside of our accepted norms.

First Call
I plan to start the war Sunday. If there are any questions, feel free to PM me, and I will ad information as it is needed without cluttering up the start of this post more than it has been.

What You Can and Can't Do
Please do not kill the main villians, but slaughtering dozens of extras with well palced spells, attacks and the like are acceptible. Players can bring in more villians to fight against and I will try to work them into the plot, but dont be surprised if the villians turn on one another. No honor among thieves.

Game On!

[Scrasamax]

The wind blew hard across the plains, whipping up a fine mist of stinging snow. That was fine with the black-skinned warlord. His platinum hair billowed behind him even as the wind snapped at his battle-pennants. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of them snapped and cracked in the wind. The Black Eyes horde, the Bloody Legion, Brothers to Battle, The Wolf Company, The Blood Eagles, The Burnt Hand Mob, The Crushers...all had come to his call. From his vantage point he could see them, the pathetic defenders of the citadel. He would break those defenders, feed them to the slaughter-pens, and loot the citadel for all it was worth.

He had to have that vast storehouse of knowledge. He would be avenged, he would see his old comrades and brethern fall in battle. When he stood over them, lifting up the orbs of Corvus, or the music box of mordalin...they would know it was wrong of them to have chastized him for his exuberance. They would all pay, every last one of them. He turned and gave the war cry, and the ground rumbled as the host descended on the walls, war chariots drove on as mercenaries, orcish warriors, dragon-kin, half-demons, and all sorts of chained horrors fell in behind.

It would be a glorious battle.

[Strolen]

Strolen scuttered over the drafting table as he reviewed the Citadel's defenses one last time. Looking for a obscure reference on defense strategies he called for the ever available Piecewise [844] to try and find the obscure text. Not that it would necessarily help him but he found solace and calm in books. Piecewise, on the other hand (get it?), always seemed to be annoyed by the snow as it greatly inhibited his movements outside. Strolen, being a squirrel, but one with wings, found it only mildy irritating.

Looking over yet another text he found an interesting quote [1369]:

"...Ande in the Dayes of the War, the masses of the darke ones grew into a greate ande terrible force, ande thus were the Fyve Armours sent unto the worlde..."
~The Grynthar Codex, chapter three verse ten

Now, that might come in handy he thought to himself. Sounds appropriate anyway.

His reflections soon ended as Piecewise came back in a rather agitated state. It seems something was happening and if his gut was any tell tale sign, the battle soon approached.

OOC: Just something to start us rolling.

[Scrasamax]

He pulled a long silver chime from his bag, it was etched with obscene images and the most blasphemous of texts. The leader, the king of the barbarian horde lifted the chime up, his own sword he rapped upon the slender tube of other-worldly metal. The first tap rang softly, the second louder. The third chime was heard by all who stood by the walls, and the forth rang like a peal of thunder. The sky darkened, and from the vantage of the castle there appeared a buring wheel in the sky, turning upon itself. The edge blazed forth, revealing sigils and symbolls of enochian. Lightning split the sky, trailing green and gold fire behind it. An axe, easily as long as a man was tall fell tumbling from the wheel, burring itself halfway into the earth.

It was followed by a pair of feet, legs, and a massive body. The demon appeared, muscled like a testosterone laden bull. Fire dripped from its jaws, trailing along the prominence of its massive tusks. Arrkrash [1123] the destroyer was again loose in creation. The demon roared, flames billowing from its body. After the roar it looked towards its summoner, the charcoal-skinned elf with the platinum blonde hair.

"Arrkrash, they have mocked you. They have laughed away the power that is you." The demon growled, a deep and fearsome sound. "Now, let them feel your wrath. Let them feel the full and awesome power that is Arrkrash!" The demon roared again, a bestial sound of lust and hatred. It turned its smoldering eyes towards the unblemished walls of the Citadel and gnashed its massive teeth. Ax left in the ground Arrkrash lifted its hands above its head and the air became darkness.

The hatred, the poison, the rage, and the malice that was the heart and soul of the demon-giant filled into the darkness, building greater and greater. Arcs of dark lightning lanced from the shadow, striking random barbarians here and there. Each struck crumpled to the ground, the very essence of his life blown out like a candle in the wind.

[Strolen]

OOC. Laughing uncontrollably sending me into a fit of coughing. Scras, you gotta link that stuff too man! Although the search for Arrkrash made it even more funny once he popped up!!! We need to be wery careful, we aren't hunting wabbits anymore. The author's name reflects our feelings on reading it as well.

[MoonHunter]

MoonHunter *voops* out of the linking book, a book of true language.  He quickly surveyed the disaster zone that was his personal tower space.  Orbs, scrolls, books, and nicknacks from dozens of times and dimensions covered shelf, table, and ledge, everything horizonal except his messy sleeping place. Nobody had disturbed a thing in the highly ordered chaos. Nothing triggered his senses, no spells displaced, and the dust elemental in the corner was still keeping things clean. He scratched his head. He turned back to the podium the book was on and closed the book unceremoniously. "Well that was not as interesting as I thought it was going to be". 

He expertly tossed the book on top of the stack of "neat ideas, but not worth the effort". It teetered for a moment, but held its place.  MoonHunter pumped his arm once, "yesssss" softly escaped his lips.  "I guess you can't judge a book by its cover blurb, even one of True Language." 

"So what else is on today's agenda?  He went over to his desk. He opened the book that held his main personal demonic assistant (which was actually a cyber spirit because nano tech did not work in the Citadel).  I did not matter what page he opened the book to, the PDA provided him the information he desired. He looked down his list of appointments, then flipped the page, to see if any messages were left for him. That page being blank, he shift over the scrolling page of "ideas to check". Disheartened by the length of the list, he closed the book.  "When in doubt, sleep or eat," he mused to himself. He checked his matrix band to check his personal time and the local time. He was going to head down to the kitchen rather than summon something up from his "book of food".  A little interaction would do him good.

As he opened the door... a wave hit him... a shift.  He reached out with his highly honed TDE (Temporal/Dimensional Empathy).  People came, left, and summoned way too many things around here. Somebody had been sloppy; he was going to give them a small piece of his mind about the quality of their work. But it wasn't in the Citadel. It wasn't the "fingerprint" of anyone he knew... scribe or other. It was too strong to be a novice, it was something that had some "depth". It had existed for a while. It was outside the walls. It was familiar, but not. It was a conundrum.

MoonHunter hated conundrums.

He ran down the stairs. Something was coming. He was going to see if anyone knew anything about it.

[Ria Hawk]

Ria pushed her glasses up her nose.  She'd been sitting in her small study, sorting through ideas and making random notes, as evidenced by the ink all over her hands.  She surveyed the untidy pile of papers with satisfaction.  "Finally got them all organized the way I like."  Suddenly, the ground shook, making her lose her balance.  The papers on her desk and the many, many books on her shelves went flying.  She looked around at the chaos in dismay as the tremor receded.  "Oh... no.  No no no no hell no."  She stormed out into the courtyard, fuming.  "All right, whoever's been playing with massively powerful spells is in major trouble.  Do you have any idea how long that took me to organize?"  She stopped short as she saw the clouds in the sky.  "Well, that can't be good."  She caught sight of Strolen and hurried over.  "What the hell is going on out there?  I retreat to my room for a few... months, and chaos happens!"

[Strolen]

Strolen looks up at Ria as he rolls back on his haunches sinking a little farther in the grass then he thought he would. Waiving his arms in a backwards motion as his antlers threaten to dump him on the ground he tries to comment on the situation.

"Well, the upside is that the fiery portal has stopped the snow from landing in the vicinity of the Citadel."

Piecewise, who had followed Strolen out bobbed in agreement, the first jovial action Strolen had seen out of it all day.

"The downside is that there seems to be a demon of death and destruction which is in the vicinity of the Citadel."

Strolen pauses watching Piecewise mess with the slight snow that powders the ground.

"Hmmm, what would Vinet Magos [881] do in this situation? I think, first, we need to do something about those flames. Seems to me they could land mnost anywhere and be quite an annoyance. Well, in that case I might as well have Piecewise grab Frost Thorn [423] and we can see what we can do with that."

Strolen looks at Piecewise who is currently fingering the light snow off of some blades of grass pretending he didn't hear Strolen. "Piecewise, be a dear and grab me the Frost Thorn will you? Seems something like this overcompensating demon is going to need something to get its attention before it drips fire on Kassil's stable."

"Don't we have a warning bell or horn or trumpet or something around here to get the attention of everybody. I know there are more people than us here."

[MoonHunter]

Following Strolen was easier than expected. He did have a powerful aura about him, so tracking that sense was easy. He was still at a good run. MoonHunter hit the courtyard and slid unexpectedly. The partially melted snow made for "interesting" footing.  Though Humanoid, he dropped to fours and spun around in the slush.  He looked up and said what any good adventurer would say, "Woah".

Then he did what any good lycanthrope would do in such a situation... No not that... geeze potty humor... he morphed. 

As the creature slowly descended from the sky, the change was completed.  Reaching inside his spirit bag, he pulled out a set of [Wvyrn Claw]. He had finally found a set that fit comfortably, and he was so adreneline hyped that he wished to use them.   He shook out the kinks in his fur and his muscles as he stood. Banging the two Wvyrn Claws together as a "starting bell" and the claws actually giving a bell like ring, he began to lope towards the prey (or where it would land).

[Pariah]

Asleep under a pile of half finished ideas, quarter finished people, and the occassional work in progress, some as s**te as the Nekron from lack of sunlight, Pariah was woken by a dull roar.  Sending sheets of papers all over the place P reached for his glasses and his hat, muttering about how however woke him was gonna get a Dreary Legion sicced on them.  Looking out the window the first thing he noticed was that the blasted snow had finally stopped, next was that the hyperactive mutt was running around in the courtyard, only after P rubbed the last of the sleep outta his eyes did he see the clouds, or what used to be the clouds.  It seems that they've been replaced with a particularly hideous demon-like thing.

Cussing under his breath he ran out, grabbing his jacket and a knife.  Running through the halls he hit all the doors he passed, yelling at the fools inside that didn't even look out the window to see what the explosion was.

[Chaosmark]

Chaosmark dipped his quill in the ink-pot again, trying to desperately think of how to finish off his newest creation, [Hry'un]. It was a good idea, one that he had gotten from Lord Strolen himself, and it showed definite potential, but it just lacked that bit of "umphf" that would make it a scroll worthy of submission to the Citadel Archives. Sighing, he cleaned the nib of his quill and replaced the lid on his ink-pot, placing both items in his writing pouch. There was no use in sitting around trying to think of what wouldn't come. He could finish it later.

Just as the blue-haired shadowmancer was finished storing his unfinished scroll, a demonic roar broke the peaceful sound of his music box. Reflexively his shadow twitched, and he smiled ruefully. Forced for so long to trust in his own strength for survival, he was still adjusting to the peaceful Citadel. Apparently the Citadel was no longer peaceful. So be it.

He looked out his window, and his purple eyes were greeted with the sight of a great and terrible army, faceless in their mass. Yet out in front of them was a large demon, large enough to be labeled with the "Greater" prefix. That would be a challenge to fight, though he had met many a smaller foe that he was sure could give that demon a run for its money. One of which was apparently running right towards the monstrous being. He'd recognize Moonhunter's furry backside any day of the week.

"Foolish lycanthrope." he muttered, turning from the window to grab some alchemical substances from his mini-lab before placing them in his cloak and exiting the room, heading down the stairs towards the courtyard. He'd find the others and figure out how the Citadel would handle this most recent attack, as well as how to keep the resident moon-stalker from getting prematurely terminated.

[Scrasamax]

There was a rumble, that grew into a deep roar. Across the citadel dust was rattled loose from the fresh mortar. Arrkrash heaved the sphere of darkness and lightning towards the citadel, casting the walls in the shadow of its negative light. Even before the sphere reached the walls, bolts of lightning cracked against the stone, splintering off dozens of the crenellations. The sphere itself passed over/through the wall with no effect to the wall itself.

Through the eastern wing, the old archives and the catacombs dozens of nameless scribes and functionaries, the faceless and nameless servants who kept the place running were blasted into death, slumping over at their desks and stations. Some he even begun to don armor vests and take up spears from the arsenal when the wave crushed the life from them.

The Black Elf laughed beyond the walls.

[Ria Hawk]

"Oh, this simply won't do."  Ria ran back to her rooms, and frantically shifted through the papers that littered the floor.  "Can't find anything... Ah!"  She found the scroll she was looking for, quickly read it to be sure it was the right one, and ran back out, summoning as she went.  The paper smoked, cracked, and then blew away from her hand.  The fragments and smoke formed into a pair of swords.  She didn't even stop as the Anjadeomin appeared in her hands.  Of course, she wasn't much of a fighter, but that wasn't why she wanted those swords.  If she wanted to fight, there were other weapons far better suited to her.  No, she wanted these for their unique properties.  She rushed back out to the main yard, and struck the two swords together above her head.  They glowed with a bright white light as she did.  Sessiul De'aster.  Hopefully, it would do something about that nasty ball of darkness before any more damage was done.

[Scrasamax]

The Sessiul De'aster filled the courtyard with its luminous glow. There was a grating sound like fingernails splintering against a chalkboard as the light and the black death spell ground against one another. It seemed for a moment that the darkness was greater than the light, but the necrotic sphere had been cast, and was released, while the Sessiul De'aster billowed forth from the paired swords. The darkness cracked as it exhausted its essence, the cloud dissipating into a swarm of almost insect like motes that buzzed and swirled about for a second before piffing out of existance.

Arrkrash bellowed with rage, the black death spell had never been defeated before. It didnt seem possible that these meddling humans...or humanish-thinking things could still thwart him even after the Jealous One drew him forth from the vault. The demon, ever a being of action (action interspaced with long sweeping panoramic shots of his massively muscled chest and blazing ruins left in his wake) strode forth. The ground shook with each step as the demon, well over fifty feet tall made for the wall. The ground withered and the snow hissed as he approached.

*****
Piecewise, meanwhile had managed to find the Frost Thorn and presented it to his current master, Strolen. After dropping the icy bangle, the construct decided to have a good scratch at its underside.

*****
MMMMMMHHHHHHHAAAAAARHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON*

Arrkrash bellowed, recognizing the white shape of the theriothrope...



*demonic for Moon

[MoonHunter]

There are advantages of being theriothropic, that you have two minds opperating at once.  So why one is concentrating on motion and transformation, the other can simply focus on other things, often insulated from the world around it. (In this case, as his body transforming from simple lupus form to his full Guardian Battle form - triggered by the extradimenoanl/demonic thin- , Massive white lycan with celestrial wing.) The mental dialog of, "I know this thing. Okay, I had to be polite and constructive before, but this time I am ripping you a new one," calmly echoed.   

While the wing normally are "decorative" in most material planes, they provided higher flight in astreal ones.  However, with a touch of magic and a powerful leap, they propelled him directly at the target. Then as he came close enough to recoil at the thing's breath, they airbreaked. He caught the beast's axe arm with one Wyvrn clawed hand. With two raking kicks, which would do little more than cosmetic damage to this "mighty demon", he kicked up the demon, rotating around the arm he hooked on to. He swung around once, his dew claw, magically enhanced, sunk deeply into the demon's axe hand wrist... spinning like a pipe cutter.  Arrkrash swung at him with his other hand (smartly not using the sword), but only managed to hit himself. The roar was defining. Two more kicks and he circled around again. The rotation was faster this time, less friction due to free flowing ichor. "Axe from Hell, what does it do... play accordian music?.."echoed in his human mind. Knowing that the demon would not fall for the same trick again, he released.. striking into the creatures chest with both magically enhanced claws.. reaching in for the demon's "heart".. usually a black gem. Kicking away from the beast with his two massive legs, more demonic slime spewed out in a fan spray, as he pulled free some material.  Swinging a glorious two handed blow to the axe.. wobbling soon to be spinning away he fell away, twisting and gliding about slightly to avoid incoming fire.


Scene Purpose: Disarm (nearly literally) the demon's axe and rip several large ichor spewing holes inthe critter (arm and chest). Like to kill it, but nearly killing it will be good enough.  (One action motion, three action morph, one action spell (flight), three action towards the one action of grab, two actions for "stunt" (extra damage and disarm (pardon pun), two for defense (he should get a chance to hit me, but I get 10d to defend...). Two more for continuation of stunt. Two attacks, one for kick off. one foe ensuring the axe disarm, and durring the fall, weaving the anti-fire shield which will be important in the next round. Throw 3 more action for twisting defense during the fall, and I have 5 votes/ actions left... which I might spend on actually voting.   If I and he survives this exchange, I have a contingent action, pulling the Silvered Irons... along the lines of "Moonhunter twisted and landed in the rain slicked ground. Skidding along, he "reached for his guns" and summoned forth Silvered Irons. In a move worthy of a John Woo shot, he sent silver rounds down shot... causing blossoms in the chest of the demon. (Silver Rounds that will... send the thing back to hell, if not killing it outright)

[Scrasamax]

Arrkrash staggered back under the fury of the strange creature that had previously been a white lupine. His axe fell away and black ichor streamed from several deep and ansty wounds in his hide. The Demon howled, lashing at Moon with black taloned claws, but finding nothing but air.

*****

"Curses on him!" The black skinned elf spat, watching the demon staggered by one of the Citadel elders. "I didnt expect him to come so soon, I expected him to send his soldiers, his knights, his militant orders and golden swords. Fool me once..." he said.

[MoonHunter]

The camera zooms in on the viewing surface our Evil Bad is using. It follows Moonhunter twisting around and landing on the snow slick ground... sliding.

Skidding along, he performs the distinctive action -"reaches for his guns". This practiced motion summons forth the Silvered Irons. In a move worthy of a John Woo movie scene, sliding on his back... he fires both guns, right then left, right then left, right then left. Silver rounds flyind down range (almost in bullet time)... causing trauma blossoms in the chest of the demon. With that, the edges of the demon begin to shiver... become less discrete... begin to fade.

MoonHunter kipups to his feet, shakes his fur clear of much of the muck. He holsters the guns, feeling them fade away.

(I still have a ton of moves left to block with the fire spell or a good dodge. If the monster conviently blows up or disappears, he will turn his back on it... in typical Sentai/anime fashion).   

[Strolen]

Strolen watched MoonHunter rush in and do his transformation in all it's glory. No matter how many times he got to see that transformation it always entranced him. This ought to be interesting. Strolen is interrupted momentarily as Piecewise returns and puts Frost Thorn on the ground and then starts what only could be grooming.

"Piece, you might want to see this," not really thinking that Piece was just a hand...but he had to have some sort of way to 'see,' didn't he?

Strolen watched Moon's aerial stunts as he fitted Frost Thorn on his small wrist. Moon always was quite dramatic, very effective, but dramatic...impressively dramatic.

Seems Moon had got his attention and then some. No better time than the present! Strolen went to all fours and started running as fast as his little legs could carry him to put him in a position to the rear of the demon. I don't play fair with fiery demons, never seems to work out. After a moment and as he got up to full speed he spread his wings and slowly lifted off the ground taking him into a sweeping glide aiming to go across the demons back.

As he took off, Strolen willed Frost Thorn into a weapon he could handle. At first he thought of frost arquebuses but quickly discarded that, pretty sure he knew that wouldn't work out. Instead he figured a miniature elven longsword that would fit his size and heft would be fully appropriate. As he timed his glide he saw Moon do another sliding stunt and draw two *guns.* EEEEK Strolen twisted his little body and delayed his approach. He trusted Moon with his life, but when Moon was in the zone it might be a good idea to give him some room to work.

(Intention is to come in and give the demon a good solid slash across it's back and the move on, land on a parapet and see what happens next)

[Scrasamax]

Rage was gone, Arrkrash staggered forward, hands clasped to his chest. Whatever the things were than the hated one had fired, had been devastating. The demon roared in pain as connective tissue failed, blood black as midnight poured through his fingers. A line of fire, coldness, ripped through his leg, tearing through the vulnerable tendons. THe leg collapsed, sending Arrkrash sprawling. The ground shook as the demon fell. There was a terrible sound, a great and deep gurgling as the beast released its death rattle.

As if in a time-lapse film, his skin blistered and cracked like mud under the baleful eye of the sun. The dread muscles peutrified, weeping forth a river of puss and phlegm. A last gasp escaped cracked lips and Arrkrash was no more. The flesh would be completely gone in a day, the bones might persist for a week...or they might lay forever until moved.

The Black Elf scowled, thrusting his sword into the air, its black surface veined with lines of glowing red, its name OBLIVION etched in the black metal. With a great roar, the hordes of mercenaries, and barbarians resumed their charge, releasing a hailstorm of arrows as they advanced. The Elf had prepared long and hard for his vengeance, he would not be denied!

[Strolen]

Oh hell, look at my yard!

Strolen circled one more time narrowly dodging an incoming arrow and landed on the parapet.

Noooooo, of course I couldn't get there in time to freeze him and avoid all this puss and phlegmy mess. Moon, always with the drama of a big show. Darn claws ruining my oak floor, clicking in the halls as he prowls some nights...perhaps I can plant some flowers in the gouges he raked through my nicely groomed grass. There is always a bright side, always.

[Pariah]

Pariah runs to the exit into the courtyard, a flies the last few yards as the Citadel itself shakes.  Rolling back up and out the door he looks around to see the corse of the demon laying on the floor.  Strolen is flying above it with a sword drawn, and Moon, in all his splendor, is holstering two guns.  Walking out into the courtyard he starts to say "why do you guys get all the fu--" only to be cut off by to first of the arrows striking the ground. 

Cursing he rack back to the doorway, "Arrows, why arrows.  I bring people this wonderful religion, worshipping Yr, and yet they still shoot at me."  Pariah watched as arrows rained down, and he realized that he needed to get out of this doorway in case if they brought artillery.  Reaching into his coat he pulled out one of his completed scrolls.  Smiling he muttered something under his breathe and a small glass ball(Eye of the Pig[2070]), about the size of his eye appeared in his hand.  Suddenly the winds started gusting up around him, and he took off at a run towards the gatehouse.

[MoonHunter]

"RowrrrrR?" said in a confused voice as an arrow landed in his thigh. He reached over and pulled it out. The wound was painful, but began to close immediately.  There was odd scents on the wind, many, hundreds of unwashed scents.

"Distraction" his human funtions said, "It was big, ugly, and loud. The real attack was a real threat not so easily disposed of. Chess Move -opening. Now time for development play."  Rather than pulling an immediate attack, time to expand, time to call in a favor.

[2473] He pulled out the linking book and the gateway opened.  Through marched 40 people dressed predominently in blue.  As they marched through, the responded with mystic shields against the wind blown arrows.  The lead man in a travelling robe stopped short of Hunter. "The promise is repayed, though it would of been nice if you called us before the attack."

MoonHunter shrugged his massive shoulders.

"All right, Primaries form up on me.  Secondaries, call forth the corners.  Snaris (a large grizzled vetran looked up from his shield) parimenter defenses. Drop the packs to the corner, we will set to the camp later..."   They began to chant and cast, soon defensive forms came apparent to those with astreal senses.

Knowing to leave experts to their work, he loped over to Strolen.

[Chaosmark]

Chaos sighed as he entered the courtyard, just barely catching a glimpse of Strolen and Ria before they were through the Main Gates. How annoying. First Moon, now Strolen and Ria. Soon enough he'd have to be saving the entire Citadel from imminent destruction. Man this was definitely like old times.

He broke into a full run, barging through the Citadel gates with a Kren in each hand, ready to ward off any attack that might threaten the masters of the Citadel. Skidding to a stop when he reached the Trio of Elder Scribes, Chaos tilted his head at the 40 mercenaries setting up a magical defense against the approaching army. How very quaint of Moon to put a group of magical mercenaries to such use. Well, at least now they'd have time to plan a defense. Assuming the wards held of course.

[Strolen]

From his spot on the parapet where he landed Strolen surveyed the scene below him. <army I suppose?> Strolen then deftly ran along the edge of the parapet toward the one of the corner towers. Through the door and up the stairs gathering some Combusting Shrews [693] from their cage on the way up, Strolen arrived at the top of the tower where the catapult awaited him.

Surveying the area, Strolen judged the distance, estimated wind speed, figured for their forward movement, readjusted to attain for the slight gust and went to load the catapult. To his disgust, and appreciation since it is stored the way it is suppose to be, Strolen realized that he would have to wind the catapult down in order to use it. "Barnacles and bildge," Strolen exclaimed to no one in particular.

Making his way to the edge of the tower he yelled, from the diaphragm as his singing instructor taught, low sounds carry farther, "HEEEEEEEEEEEELP!"

[Ria Hawk]

Ria heard Strolen, and looked up.  "Ah."  She started running for the stairs, weaving around people as she went.  She wished she could think of something to help, but none of her scrolls were really geared towards combat on a massive scale.  Spying, maybe.  She'd have to consider it.  Finally, she reached the parapet Strolen was on, and paused for a moment to catch her breath.  She looked at the catapult critically.  She could probably get it winched down by herself.  She grunted as she made the effort.