Thursday, July 31, 2014

Rant Time: The Battle of Ap'rtmant

    You assesses the situation: it looks grim.  The illness stretches and rolls over the land and the mighty Orcs, a special breed called Dûest Bûnsi, have invaded in the millions.  You were drafted for this battle, not willingly participating, making the searing stench of it all the worse.  The deep wound in your back still burns brightly, making riding difficult in and of itself.  A new Queen intends to make this forsaken land her home and the Great Bard volunteered your services.  The fight looks hopeless.  The Orcs have grown and infested the land after the passing of the last Queen, and now the land hath been ravaged and soured.

The Spell of Va'Cuum and Sword of Brom 
      It is down to just you, your powerful Mage sister, and 4 brave comrades.  With this, armed to the brim with the sword of Brom and her magic air spell of Va'cuum, you march to battle.  A mighty hoard swarms you.  You swipe and slash as they creep: some swiftly skitter across the field to escape, but do not leave, and you are forced to chase them down.  Your sister rides to the other side to tackle the plain known as Kitchun and you are left to protect what is left of the once glorious bath house.  Your comrades fall before your eyes as they tackle the corners where the strongest of the Orcs, the Mald, lurk and kill quickly.  You are forced to retreat, as you are lacking in supplies and run to the battle of Baudrum, where your might sword of Brom smites the Dûest Bûnsi that cling to the surrounding area.  The worst to come, however, is the Filtar of AyCee, which takes the combined power of both you and the Mage.
Source
 
    Two and a half eons later, the earth begins to rattle with the sound of thunder.  Ap'rtmant is in a horrible place with the light of day the only thing to make it visible.  You will have to retreat as the bath houses have gone dark and there is no light to guide your sword.  To stay and fight would be your demise.  You are forced to retreat, with only your sister and you left alive.  You will need to regroup at first light the next morning to thwart the beasts before Thor's Day.  You part and try to scrounge up reinforcements.

  The next morn you return with 22 more brave comrades to assist in the battle as well as a mighty meal to get ready for the horrors ahead.  Your sister's reinforcements have yet to arrive.  It is just you.  You march into the battle yet again and continue to struggle forth. Half through, a mighty Ninja joins the battle!  The friend of your sister's assists in the fight in a precise area of effect whilst you continue your battle.  As the day grows hot and humid, the air reaching above 97° without a cool breeze to chill your pains, your spirits waiver and grow thin.  Food is delivered to the battle field and eaten post haste, or rather, devoured.  Your dear comrades are falling in the great battles of Fan, Cill, Laump, Shev'lis, and Shauwer.  All seems lost.
 
   Finally, in rides the great Bard to assist with her obsessive powers over destroying filth.  The Mage and Ninja depart and it is left to you.  Wounded, you collapse upon the grass and wait for the embrace of Death or Victory.


♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦


  A total of near 12 days at war, four brave warriors, and 22 fallen comrades with only four to carry on their legacy, the battle is won.  What is left of the Orc run and hide in the smallest corners and will emerge again one day, but for now have been thwarted.  You are at peace, dear Adventurer.  Rest.
A monument to our fallen comrades.