1/28/00 - Report by Eve
I threw my boot at the window, yelling for the ostards outside to quit their incessant unmelodic cries for attention, desperately trying to once more reach the plateau of sleep. The Inn of Papua was rumored to be far from serene, and now I knew why...
A knock at my door dragged me from my last attempts at slumber, and so I reluctantly pulled my blankets about me and answered, finding a small boy standing outside. He handed me a newspaper, and stuck his hand out for change, puppy dog eyes turned on to full intensity. I dropped a pouch of coins in his hand and winked, bringing a large smile to his face, and shut the door...
The front page immediately drew my attention. Reports indicated Trinsic was being assailed by forces far larger than seen in previous attacks, and that some of the attacking army from Britain seemed to have diverted their attention south, as well. Sightings had been made of the lich lord Juo'nar, now known to be the infamous brigand of early '98 risen again, and a sorceress known only as Marabelle, both leading troops against the walls of the City of Paladins.
I quickly dressed, packed my belongings, and rushed out to the stables, leaping astride my mount before the stable boy could even ask which horse was mine. I turned my mount towards the mage shop, intent on using the teleporter within as my transport to the Old Lands. Halfway across the street, however, my short jaunt was soon interrupted...
Before me, an ophidian knight-errant hissed in its ancient tongue, it's massive executioner axe carving symbols in the air. I froze dead in the street, fifty thousand strategies racing through my head simultaneously. Before I could make up my mind, though, the ophidian decided for me, lashing out towards me in a vicious fashion, it's axe sweeping towards me in a broad arc.
I instinctively ducked, kicking my heels into my steed and rushing past the knight-errant. Calling forth the magicks of teleport, I barely escaped a crushing blow from behind, appearing atop a balcony of a nearby building. The ophidian rushed towards me, reaching up and trying to grab hold of the edge of the platform to pull himself up, but a volley of Energy Bolts knocked him to the ground, blood seeping from fresh wounds. It howled in agony, slamming his axe into the support beams of the balcony, but they would not give, increasing his frustration. I backed away, releasing a Flamestrike into the ophidian, watching as the flames seared its skin and blackened its weapon...
It was then the knight-errant went for the stairs. Slithering up the path with incredible speed, he leapt up the stairway and circled behind me, screaming what could only be obscentities in its language. I spun around in my saddle, gathering the energy for another offensive spell just as the ophidian smashed into me...
The blade of the knight's axe cut deep into my backpack, barely stopping short of my skin. I was thrown from my horse and off the balcony, landing painfully on the city street. Leaping to my feet, I called forth the power words for another Flamestrike as the ophidian leapt from the platform, its axe held high...
In mid-air, the flash of fire ignited the ophidian, throwing him backwards against the roof of the building. Screaming as it fell, the knight dropped his massive axe and slammed into the pavement with a sickening crunch, its head shattered upon the cobblestone. I breathed deeply, and called my mount to my side, leaping once more into the saddle...
But it was not over. I suddenly felt my entire body weaken, strength rushing away from me with the breeze. Recognizing the magic of Weaken, I spurred my mount towards the balcony stairs, flipping a table behind me to impede the progress of my attacker. Turning to face my opponent, I gasped in horror as I realized it was an ophidian matriarch, the mother of their kind...
But I had little to worry about. My battle with the knight-errant had drawn a crowd, and soon five citizens leapt to my aid, magic and steel bringing the matriarch to its last breath. As it stared at me with dimming eyes, whispered threats slipping from its lips in a foreign tongue, I finished it quickly with another bolt of energy, looking away as it went limp upon the wooden floor... I assured my allies I was alright, and left the scene in a hurry, bursting through the mage shop's doors and speaking the words to activate the teleporter. As I materialized in Moonglow, I waited nay a second to cast recall, and felt the pull of the spell drag me across the aether into the first floor of the Trinsic Jail...
Outside the doors, a few people stood guard at the gate, a number of tables stacked in barricade fashion on the drawbridge leading out of town. I spoke with those assembled, who recognized me as the speaker at the Alliance meeting on the 26th, and after some deliberation, we began to set up strategies...
Using telepathy to call forth a few more men to aid our cause, I watched as our small band of defenders grew to a sizable force of warriors and mages. We quickly positioned watchmen at the Smuggler's Gate, in case the enemy tried to slip into town from that route, and established a patrol to wander the streets and warn the main force at the gate in the event the town was overrun.
It was not long before one of our advance scouts rushed in from the north, stating a large mass of ratmen and lizardmen were marching down the road towards the city. Calling for the warriors to form a line, with mages and archers stationed behind them, our small band of defenders braced for their assault...
It came mintues later, a sea of fur and scales, assaulting the main gate with a ferocity seldom seen in such creatures. Not accustomed to staying in rank, the defenders broke their lines and rushed to the battle, a chaotic match of blades and claws swirling amidst the battlefield. The citizens of Trinsic easily brought down the attackers, though, their determination to hold the city's gate too strong, and in mere moments, only the corpses of the attackers remained. Not one casualty was dealt to our militia, and the sounds of victory echoed up from the city streets...
We quickly set about to healing the wounded, instructing everyone to hold the lines, to ease the use of healing spells and distribute the damage across the line, increasing our efficiency. After little coercion, the men assembled fell in rank once again, and as the sounds of another wave of the enemy approaching came to us with the breeze, no one moved to break formation: we were working as a unit, and the attackers would find that Trinsic was stronger than expected...
Two waves of ratmen and lizardmen later, one of our scouts rushed up, a worried expression on his face, short of breath and obviously fatigued. Gesturing to the road behind him, the only word he could force out between breathes was one that brought shivers to the assembled army: undead.
The sun flashed brilliantly from the series of silver weapons brought to arms, and I myself pulled forth my silvered mace, recovered from the depths of the Terathon Keep not too many evenings before. By this time, a number of guilds had arrived to assist us in the city's defense, and our force was stronger than ever, fully prepared for an assault by the undead...
I explained to the assembled crowd that intelligence reports indicated Juo'nar might be leading the undead against us, and that if the green lich was seen, all attacks should be focused on him. I also explained the story of the necklace that may be the source of his power, and listened as a number of paladins who had lived in the city for years expressed their hatred of the evil that bore the name Juo'nar. At his name, many shuddered, but even more had a glow of determination rise up in their eyes...
Wave upon wave of the undead soon beseiged us, entire platoons of zombies and skeletons springing up from the soil around us and marching down from the road to the north. As we felled each line of attack, the numbers increased, and soon spectres and wraiths joined their ranks, bringing the battle to a more dangerous level. Our numbers were too great, our defense too strong, though, and soon the attacks ceased, the shattered bodies of the walking dead laying about us in morbid splendor...
News of the massive attack spread quickly through communication channels, and soon our numbers doubled. Patrols were increased inside the city, and the watch was called off the Smuggler's Gate, as it had seen no action, and the men were needed on the front line. A vanguard was formed, and a number of archers joined the secondary, making our defensive line on the main gate one to be admired and feared. Leadership of the forces soon became an issue, with certain individuals clamoring for attention and respect, but in order to keep morale high, and the arguments between ourselves to a minimum, I quietly let those who wished to bark orders do so, while remaining anonymous in the ranks...while I may have been the one who orchestrated the defense, the army had taken on a life of its own, and I no longer felt it was necessary to hold the role of "commander".
Another series of offensives began, with increasing numbers and strength. Liches soon accompanied the skeletal horde into battle, and though our line held firm, we suffered our first casualties of the day. After a hard fought battle, where the spells of the liches left our army bruised and battered, we finally repelled their attack, and gained a brief respite from their relentless assault... It lasted hardly long enough for us to regroup and heal before what proved to be the main force arrived. A massive swarm of liches, bone knights, and bone magi bore down on us, striking fear in the defenders that caused them once again break formation and meld into a chaotic mix of human and undead...
Noticing one of our scouts being pursued by a trio of magi, I spurred my mount past the center of battle, and quickly healed him with a spell. The magi seemed to notice my interference, and as the scout fled into the woods, turned their attention to me.
The battle was intense, the spells of the three bone mages slamming into me with great force, leaving me on the defensive. Four consecutive times, I was knocked unconscious, my sense of being thrown from the world of Britannia, awaking barely alive to a volley of healing spells cast on me by Ser Brightblade. As I finally gained full control of my senses, I found our forces in disarray, many of our men dead or seriously wounded. I quickly set about to healing those in need, my silver mace brought down upon any lich or skeleton that crossed my path. I was in the center of it all when the tide finally turned, yelling in celebration as the last of the undead horde was forced back into the forests. We had won against impossible odds, defeated an army of such strength and number, the bravest among us faltered for a time...
But as we reformed our lines, we noticed Juo'nar had still not appeared. Standing tight in formation, reagents stocked, bows pulled taught, weapons drawn, our lines peered up the road leading out of town, waiting for the first sight of the next wave, waiting for the walking dead to come into range so the battle could be engaged once more...
But we waited for what seemed hours, and still no sign. A tamer soon arrived with two dragons in tow, and some of the assembled mages had summoned pets to assist them in the fight. In this calm before the storm, supplies were restocked, armor was replaced, and the bodies of the fallen undead were scavenged for gold and other items of interest. We fell back in line, the vanguard poised further up the road and built stronger to put a large dent in the first wave...
Which soon proved to be a mistake. We spun around in horror as screams were heard within the city, and I watched as our best laid plans nearly fell apart. All the lines broke, and randomly the men rushed through the gates and into the streets, where the army of undead had risen from the cobblestones to wreck havoc upon the city. It took a moment for our forces to adjust to the suprise, but as soon as the entirety of our defenders arrived in the front of the jail, the bodies of the living dead once again littered the ground...
And that was the last of the major attacks. In the next few hours, the defensive line dwindled as the attacks began to lessen, and soon I felt it was time to retire and rest for the following day. I had stood valiant at the Trinsic Gate for near ten hours, and I felt my stripes had long been earned. Retiring to my house, in the warm and comforting climate of the Southern Jungles, I opened my journal to make this entry, and soon collapsed on my bed, asleep before I knew what hit me...
My nightmares began again, this time, an image of a massive lich, resplendent in green robes, leading another wave against the city of Trinsic, a wall of the walking dead that covered the battlefield tearing through our defenses like paper machete. I realized that although the attacks had been unsuccessful, both Marabelle and Juo'nar had remained at large, and we had yet to even sight them on the battlefield. Noting this in my journal now, I think I will retire for good...