Thursday, January 8, 2015

The Battle of Ap'rtmant Part 2: The War of Landri and Bat'ha Rome

The General and Company
      As you sit drinking a smooth ale at the tavern, a call is heard behind you and you turn swiftly.  A messenger runs to you and begs your presence at the House of Lioden, a home that you are very familiar with and even spent a long time there, and also one of great land.  The land of Ap'rtmant is well within the bounds of their power.   You gather your things, your arm cradled to your chest like a child as you march forth.  You walk is limped with your opposing leg recovering slowly from the same battle as your arm.  Upon striding in you see the General alongside the lead of house Lioden, the very Mage you fought alongside at Ap'rtmant, gesturing wild and grand.  Cautiously, you approach.  They great you with much enthusiasm and explain the task ahead--you are simply needed as a scout and a guide for the items they need for their quest for the rebuilding of Landri, a segment of their land.  Easy enough.
       You guide the duo alongside the General's Warrior bodyguard through village after village as we looked for the items to no avail.  A few things were acquired and as time passed, small progress was made.  Upon your return however, the General spots a horrid thing--a camp of orcs in a far corner of the Lioden lands, a region referred to as Bat'ha Rome, powdered with a thin layer of snow.  The General's memory evades them as they seem to forget it was they that refused to be sure that orcs would be blocked out of these lands two years ago, when the last renovations were made.  The Mage looks to you in sorrow, knowingly.  The General swivels on their heels and looks you straight in the eyes, smiles, and begins to proclaim how you shall rid the land of these orcs alongside the Mage, going on to attest to your youth and valor as prime reasons for your enlistment.  Before you can utter a word, the General is gone to "handle some other matters," leaving you, two brave comrades who had seen the battle of Ap'rtmant, and the Mage before the dangers ahead.  Slowly you mobilize and begin to fight against the small camps hidden across the blanket of grass, but it's then you realize these are more than orcs, they are Uruk-hai!  Moreover, they are territorial and refuse to leave their camps which are practically ingrained.  You glance a your wounded arm then slowly draw your sword with a lump in your throat and glance at the Mage who slowly prepares a spell of Brûssh and begins to attack.  The comrades fall early, only wounding few of the mass of bodies in their way.  Slash as you may and cast as the Mage might, hardly a dent appears in the armor of the great Uruk-Hai before you, Grèn Panktin Tà'ul.  With a halfhearted smack you are thrown across the battlefield and to the floor, landing upon your vulnerability and screeching in pain.
Grèn Panktin Tà'ul
    The Mage opens her spell book and enhances the spell from Brûssh to Bríllo Pâd and tries to attack further as you rise to your feet carefully, gathering your sword in hand.  You turn to look at the beast before you as he smirks and taunts you.  In you lunge with full thrust, a renewed rage burning in your chest to smite him upon the field.  His arm creeks and dents and slowly begins to crack, but again he is able to smack you aside and advance.  In his harsh tongue he dares you to get up and try again.  You have no chose.  Another lunge.  Failed.  Another.  Foiled.  Grèn raises his jagged sword, bored of toying with his future meal and presses his massive mountain of a foot down upon your beaten back about to strike.
    "Word from the General!"  Shouts the Mage.  "Use a potion of Nul Palish!"  The Uruk hears nothing over his own laughter and you know there is only a quick moment.  You thrust your wounded arm into your pouch and pull out a vial of clear liquid like air itself and thrusts the contents into the face of the Uruk.  For a moment he squeals and you are able to drag yourself from under his weight and lift yourself.  You turn to triumphantly watch him boil away and sizzle into the silence of night but....but no........No?!  He wipes his eyes and flicks the liquid to the ground and looks at you with renewed rage and rushes at you once more.  "STRONGER!"  you shout in response to the Mage who pales and rummages through her books.  The Uruk slashes at you and your sword clashes against his, sparking like lightning.
      You are able to keep him at bay so the Mage may make progress.  Uruks flood around then begin to run back to their huts or leave the lands.  Suddenly, a horn is heard and the General rides in majestically over the hill.  They blink and suddenly question why you have not progressed further in your cleansing.  You hastily knock over your attacker and look to the general who seems to be riding oddly.  They leap down and come over with a small sword and jab at a few uruks dramatically to little effect.  The General pauses and looks down to see a bracer starting to fall off and so they lean over carefully to adjust them when Grèn Panktin Tà'ul dips past you and slashes the General square across the back.  With a scream the General falls to their knees.  You spring into action, slashing the beast away and shouting to the Warrior and Mage that you must take the General to the infirmary.  With effort, you load your burden onto their horse and quickly ride to the infirmary base acres away.  You unload the General and handle the discussion.  They are not well but will live.

        A day later news comes from the General in their infirmary bed that the war is to wage on.  And so it does.  And so it does.  And so it does.  A year lapses and your arms have grown weary.  The Mage has grown tied.  The Warrior has turned slow.  Even the masterful Alchemist who has come to your aid (the other lead of the House of Lioden) grows impatient with the progress.  But soon, a breakthrough!  You charge in with sword blazing and slash down Grèn Panktin Tà'ul in one fell slash, his head rolling into the diminishing ranks of Uruks.  They pause and look to you as you slowly wipe the searing blood from your blade and look to them with a look of daring.
      They flee.
      Finally, after 3 years, you look to the Mage and help her with the spell of Sealing so that no more like Panktin can seep in.  You begin to be merry and joyous, breaking out ales and foods to feast and celebrate, until you realize something.  Something terrible.

 You still have to rebuild Landri.