Beach head Albion
I hate ships, I know I've said it before, but worse then ships is amphibious attacks on hostile beaches. They very quickly degrade into chaos, and confusion. Of course my landing on the Isle of Albion was epic...in confusion and chaos. Still the day was won and we now have our foothold. Here is how it went.
The fleet of ships is largish, even though the journey is brief a lot of men and supplies are packed into everything that floats and Harold could lay his hands on, The officers of the force stand on the Deck of Pascal's ship, the mist shrouded Isle of Albion looms in the distance.
Pascal's ship, for the record, is pretty obviously not a warship. Most days. The Artemis will do for now, though. Pascal stands at the helm, dressed in armor as he sails for the island. "What I wouldn't do for a good storm."
Izett walks out onto the deck of the ship having changed into something more appropriate. Adjusting her belt as she attaches a dagger onto her hip. You can see the hilt of another tucked into her boot. Hair drawn back into a French braid to keep it out of her face as she looks toward the shores off into the distance. Green eyes holding a very serious gaze.
Miranda, despite the unfortunate associations, has come armored all in black, though the insignia on her shield still marks her out clearly enough. "I pray you, my lord," she says, "speak not that desire so loudly, lest it be answered." She does look a bit green even at the mention of a storm.
Aleksandra has been spending a lot of time doing something she did not expect when she set sail for this place, paperwork, arranging the stowing of supplies and loading of troops, now she has changed into her own light Armour and rests a hand upon the pommel of her sword as she eyes the shore. "So what is known of this land risen from the sea and its inhabitants?"
At mention of a storm the Grand Master eyes Pascal "Don't tempt the God's, they are cranky of late." He is dressed in his full armor and seems very unhappy about being at sea, but hey Albion is an Island. His eyes blue eyes squint "We need to secure the beach, then push to that little town on the bluff, Canton Shire."
Melina stands near her cousin in her usual attire at least outwardly, though those looking carefully or even not so to so carefully will note considerable bulk underneath. She seems to share Miranda's opinion of the storm 'That would help?" she asks pascal, incredulous
Pascal quirks a smile. "A storm wouldn't worry me," he says, "but as you wish, I won't tempt fate further." He looks over the view before them. "A blockade of the beach, then? Or do you believe it would be unnecessary?"
Izett eyes the shoreline those green eyes taking on that odd shade and look as she considers the shoreline with their approach. Her boots sounding softly amidst the shuffling of so many others on the deck as she makes her way toward the rail for a better look at things.
Aleksandra chuckles in a slightly detached manner. "It would make unloading onto the beach impossible even for you cousin, not to mention sinking a good proportion of these vessels and scattering the rest. It would be an unmitigated disaster."
Miranda listens attentively to Harold and to the others. She nods once at the mention of securing the beach, and a second time at the mention of Canton Shire. "Very good, my lord," is her only comment. "May I inquire how your lordship desires us to deploy?"
The Grand Master's Helmed head offers a nod "We need to control the sea's and lines of supply, our army shall not falter from a lack of food." Turning to Miranda. "once we take the beach we will split the men into two wedges, and march until we meet resistance." He turns to squint at the beach "Once the town is secure we will make it our base of operation, the beach will be our supply depot."
Aleksandra does chime in now. "I would warn that with the limited number of animals that could be fitted aboard ship, the range we can march inland from that supply depot is going to be limited and foraging a problem even with despoiling the countryside. Securing draft animals for the baggage train should be a priority if you plan to move too far from the coast."
Enzo's approach is heralded by the slow, unhurried clunk of boots up the stair from below deck. His even swagger carries him up into view, towards the rail for a glimpse of land. He arrives in time to mutely take in Harold's orders but he only scowls over the side. "I dislike boats," he contributes to the exchange, helpfully.
"More animals can be brought in over time," Pascal says as they approach the shore. "If we set the town as our base, we can take a little time to move things in." A glance to Enzo. "So long as you don't lose your lunch on anything valuable."
The mist shrouded beach looms ahead of the ship, the demarcation point rapidly approaches. In the distance shouts of captains to crews as the ships prepare to deploy their troops.
Izett watches the shoreline closely, green eyes remaining with that odd look to them. Waiting for the time to leave the ship and step onto the shore. She draws in a slow deep breath preparing herself listening to everything around her and drinking in all the information and planning.
Melina peers intently at the approaching shoreline. Her focus on just that and lack of storm means she's doing better with being at sea this time
Miranda's only response to these instructions is a nod. She thereafter sets to adjusting the straps and buckles of her obsidian armor with unsmiling intensity. Only Enzo's remark draws a nod and an, "I myself am incline to agree with you, my lord, meaning no offense to boats and those who find them appealing."
"That is why we need to control the sea, we have horses, armor, food. We lack ships" Harold speaks to Alexandra. He looks to Izett "Why is it we do not have a navy?" Harold dislike of Sea travel is well known, he hold his tongue on the subject. A white scarf is tied about his right arm at the elbow.
"That kills quite a lot of animals though and they take up a great deal of room. It is an expensive option though." Aleksandra answers to Pascal before then eying the shoreline carefully, as the ships continue to draw closer she distractedly folds up her hair before placing an arming cap over her head, then dons a plain steel bascinet helm before shrugging her hands into gloves. She nods to Harold. "Well maintaining warships is hugely expensive Sir Harold and it does require actual cash rather than manors granted to knights for their maintenance which is far simpler. Hence fleets like this of merchant vessels stuffed with soldiers."
Izett tilts her head not taking her eyes from the shoreline as she answers Harold, "Because an army is more useful in Monsalvat than a navy, Grand Master Harold." she states softly. Still studying the movements within the swirling mists and fogs on the shoreline with a bit of apprehension.
Pascal smiles thinly. "If the need omes," he says, "and the money is raised, someone will help build a navy."
Miranda glances up, suddenly. Her eyes lose focus.
RPG: Miranda accepts a Trump call.
Enzo reaches into his jack and finds a packet of cigarettes there. "I value lunch beyond most things," he muses to Pascal. Replying to Miranda as his cigarette kindles on his lip, apparently of it's own accord,
"I wouldn't worry, the ship seems unmoved by our disapproval." He offers both who'd spoken to him one from his pack with silent gesture. He doesn't reply to sir Harold, standing tacitly by his aforementioned dislike of boats as he leans on the rail, smoking quietly.
The Demarcation point A red painted barrel weighted and anchored to the bottom, this is as close as the ships dare go. Bells ring as long boats are lowered from other ships. A towed barge containing the horses is cut free and sailor begin to row for shore.
"Beyond even breakfast?" Asks Aleksandra idly of Enzo there as she adjusts her gauntlets, then pulls off the left glove and tries it again with apparently more success. "Well time for us to act then. Sir Harold, do I have your leave to shout at people when this inevitably leads to a horrendous tangle of men and supplies piled upon the beach in an attempt to stop it from getting worse?"
Miranda, clad in obsidian armor, has a rather grim and serious look to her. Some of that fades when she sees who it is that's calling. "Good eve, my lady," she says, while the ship in the background approaches the beaches of Albion.
Melina grins at aleksandra''s remark and awaits with interest sir harold's reply to the query
"You have my leave to do as you must to keep us moving forward. Viscountess would you lead...oh" Harold hushes as he sees Miranda talking to the air. "We need the men formed up as soon as their toes are in the sand, Keep things moving we don't want to be caught standing."
Izett swings a leg out over the railing, climbing down onto one of the boats heading toward the shore. She seems to go for one of the first boats leaving for the shore apparently scouting things out while the army gets organized and the horses are arranged for.
Miranda says -- with perhaps the faintest flicker of a smile -- "A message so welcome needs no apology, Countess; an' such should be speedily granted, were it required. How may I serve your ladyship?"
Enzo squints, thoughtfully scratching his beard as he peers through the gloom to land. "My breakfasts usually have scheduling issues with most people's lunches," he answers mildly. He eyes the boats dubiously, with a 'you're serious' look of plaintivity shot to Harold. With a reigned sigh he acquiesces, heading for the boats and trailing cigarette smoke behind him. "I usually charge way more for this sort of thing," he broods. "You're lucky I'm a sucker for the impoverished."
Pascal frowns, lowering the sail on the Artemis as it nears the demarcation point. "Melina, drop the anchor," he says. "Make sure everyone gets off easy."
Miranda admits, "I myself am ill-suited to judge, my lady, but, as we have not yet engaged the enemy, I do not think it could be said that they are under control. An' your ladyship did not find other matters more diverting, I doubt not that the aid of the Necromancer Royal would be most welcome."
"Well there is a plan." Aleksandra peers at the boats being dropped, troops and supplies pouring into them. "Which so far seems to be within acceptable bounds." A longboat full of horses then overturns as a rope lowering the next creature snaps, there is much screaming and flailing. She winces. "Please keep in mind that the plan does acknowledge a certain loss rate from accidents. Landing animals without a proper dock is apparently rather difficult."
Miranda extends a hand to the air.
Emma appears suddenly, grasping Miranda's hand.
Harold shakes his head as he watches a horse tumble into the drink. Thankfully the beast is close enough to shore that it doesn't just drown, the supplies on the other hand...they are just lost. "Load the boats" he snaps. As Emma steps out of thin air he blinks "Welcome to Lyonesse Lady Emma."
Miranda takes a step back when the Countess arrives; enough space to make a proper (by which is meant 'formal and in the archaic style of Lyonesse') bow. "My lady. It is most good of you to come to our assistance."
Melina obediently if a tad awkwardly hefts the anchor and throws it ashore. she is not about to question has her cousin actually judged her capable of doing something and would likely throw out her back before saying a word. thankfully said injury does not occur and anchor meets beach with a hearty thunk
Emma casts a brief glance about her, taking in the surroundings. "Thank you, Viscountess," she says to Miranda, before quirking a wry smile at Harold. "My lord. Am I late to the party?"
Aleksandra bows her head to Emma with a somewhat relieved smile once she appears. "Welcome cousin, I am heartened to have your aid here, I fear my own studies of the arts wielded by our enemies here have been left to lapse since I married out of the house and I was not altogether confident as the only individual with such skills taking part in the expedition."
Harold clears his throat "I believe Baroness Izett is also a Feldane, if you will excuse me" he glances over the rail, "time to go to work." That said he climbs over the rail and settles himself in the long boat.
Enzo is grabbing one of the winch ropes to climb down into one of the boats; too manly for a ladder, apparently. Cigarette still hanging from his lips, he squints at the others. Lacking the other's senses of formality, he mimes a small salutary gesture of greeting to the arriving Emma chipperly. "Aye. Stuff needs killin'," he agrees with Harold.
"Why, the merriment begins with the arrival of your good self, my lady," Miranda says, a little good cheer making its way through her general gloominess. "I fear, however, that the hosts are impatient for us to arrive. After your ladyship," she says, with an rather over-florid gesture.
The fog swirls on the beach giving a haunted feel, in the distance shuffling and a low moan can be heard.
Emma flashes a brief grin in Aleksandra's direction. "Oh, I'm sure you'd have been just fine without me." Harold's words are acknowledged with a nod. "And Izett; you'd have been amply fine. But alas, I'm here now." She moves to follow folks to, well, wherever they're going to get to land.
Pascal leaves the helm behind himself to go to the longboats himself, settling into position.
The air grows deathly still, and a chill hangs in this fog and mist. The waves crash to the sandy beach, not even the sound of a gull breaks the Erie calm, the whole of this land feels /wrong/
Melina scampers down after her cousin and shivers as she does so
Harold stands at the front of a long boat, his red and white shield slung to his arm, a war Axe dangles from his wrist. As the boat scrapes bottom he jumps into the surf quickly moving up the beach to try and get a vantage point that will let him see the landing.
Aleksandra frowns as she disembarks to a boat and regards the mists with narrowed eyes. "From the sound and look of things the enemy are at hand, that is worrying." She rests a gauntleted hand on the hilt of her sword now before simply waiting for the boat to hit the beach without further ado.
Enzo, despite his gruff and smokey manner assists the ladies with climbing into the boat and seating before settling in himself. His face screws into a grimace as he surveys the place, and he looks dubiously to Harold. "Y'know, I could recommend some nicer places to invade, if ye liked, if you were looking for real-estate."
Izett leads the horse onto shore holding onto the mane as she looks over the land. She glances around and then starts to make her way further inland while all the men start to climb up onto the shore. She motions to a few of the men from her own barony, a honor guard as it were though some of the faster smaller men seeming to go forward to scout things out rather than take a chance of the men being attacked by surprise while the landing actions are going on.
(You paged Izett with 'A short way off the beach a good road is found, the weeds grow as tall as your waist In the distance you can make out the town, and something is moving there.'.) What Izett discovers just off the beach.
Emma gives Enzo a rather amused look as he helps her into the boat, but refrains from overt comment, instead murmuring her thanks. She lets her gaze stray toward the shore.
From the sea you hear men shout in panic as the drown dead shamble from the could water. Crabs cling to rotting flesh as they start to grab at boats still trying to make shore.
At the first sign of trouble, the cheerfulness vanishes from Miranda's expression like a puff of smoke. A glance down at herself, then a glance down into the water to measure its depth. Gripping one side of the boat, she unsheathes the heavy sword with her other hand and leans over to peer down into the sea for any approaching undead.
Pascal lifts his staff slightly as he looks down into he water as well, taking his cue from Miranda. "We're placing ourselves in a trap," he murmurs.
The water is less the ten feet deep The walking dead seem to be grabbing boats at about the six foot mark. Horses scream in terror as the barge bearing them toward shore is attacked. Panicked sailors swing their oars trying to drive the animated corpses back,
Enzo mutters some obscenity as he peers over the side of the small craft. Smoke issues from one of his hands, and from the smoke, sparks. The firefly like lights coalesce, flaring and merging amidst heat ripples to form into a brutally tipped spear shaft composed entirely of simmering flames. "This is one of those moments I'm glad I'm not wearing armor." His cigarette is still perched on his lip.
"That is Sir Harold's prerogative to decide upon." Answers Aleksandra to Pascal there as she smoothly unsheathes her own slender bladed weapon and moves to the side of the boat where she crouches ready.
"Remember to use blades, they do not really care about being clubbed but feeling no pain is not a defense against amputated limbs."
Izett turns as she hears the screams of the men, and the horses. Frowning as she makes her way toward the edges of the water preparing to help the handlers of the horses when they reach shore. Her hand on the one horse that already making it to shore trying to keep him calm while hearing the upset of the other animals.
Emma's expression turns vaguely irritated, when she sees the undead grasping at the boats. Carefully, she unsheathes her rapier, waiting for anything to get close enough for her to take a swing at. "Or fire. Fire works."
"Their after the horses" Harold's voice booms. "get that cursed thing to shore!" he begins to wad into the surf hoping to reach the besieged barge.
Melina sighs and winces at the sight of the undead as there hands clamor to reach the ships "This is becoming a distinct pattern" she attempts to use her own as a weapon if she must but mostly watches for oncoming attackers "To the right" she informs her cousin
RPG: Enzo challenges a difficulty of 9. Enzo chooses Force and the gifts FIR-WM and SKL-AR. Enzo succeeds.
RPG: Emma challenges a difficulty of 9. Emma chooses Wits and the gifts DEA-BN and STY-SW. Emma succeeds.
RPG: Aleksandra challenges a difficulty of 9. Aleksandra chooses Wits and the gifts DEA-FM and SKL-WM. Aleksandra succeeds.
RPG: Miranda challenges a difficulty of 9. Miranda chooses Wits and the gifts BLD-OB and SKL-AR. Miranda succeeds.
Enzo's arm jerks and the weapon he'd been holding arcs in a dazzling flash through the gloom, to culminate in an flash that explodes cleanly through one of the monstrous forms. The thing collapsing under the tide doesn't seem to extinguish the flames, even as another spear forms in his hand and arcs lethally towards another target and another.
Miranda doesn't bother even trying to swing the heavy sword. Rather, when she spots something, as the boat approaches shore, she simply stabs down at it in a quick, sudden motion. This leaves her dangerously overextended vis-a-vis the water, but at least she seems to have hit what she was aiming at. At least, it doesn't get hold of the boat.
"Fire does indeed work, at least magical fire!" Observes Aleksandra with a cold grin before she watches the lunging strike of one of the animate corpses intently, waiting until it is extended before then delivering a deliberate slash to the tendons on the inside of an arm before arcing across to block another attack in the same motion, the backhand taking a zombie in the side of the head and sending it slumping. She moves the weapon in wide and deliberate arcs, measured thrusts, no special speed but everything planned five steps in advance as the undead assailants telegraph their actions transparently.
RPG: Pascal challenges a difficulty of 9. Pascal chooses Wits and the gift SKL-WM. Pascal succeeds.
Emma's expression turns just a little bored, as she flicks her rapier in the direction of one of the approaching zombies. Both of the living corpse's hands, which had been grasping at the edge of the boat nearby, are neatly severed and the thing slumps back into the water. And so it goes, with the redhead effortlessly detaching the limpet-like undead from wherever she can reach.
Pascal gives the others a raised eyebrow before taking his staff and swinging at the nearest approaching zombie with it anyways. Remarkably, despite being unable to cut, a heavy blunt object is still able to break bones like the ones in zombie arms. And skulls. "Why does everyone assume that if it doesn't have a cleaver on the end," he mutters to himself.
The waves crash about Harold as he watches the flaming spears arc, the sailor on the barge cheer and begin rowing for all their worth for the shore.
Enzo squints through his cigarette smoke, sizing up one target after another. "Yeah, not so tough now, are ye, ye decayin' lil' buggers? Any more oh you want some of this... oh you? Here..." *whoosh* "Eat some of -those- brains!" *whoosh*
Izett rounds up the men on the shore to, gesturing toward the path of the barge toward the shore, "Clear a path!" she calls to the men sending even her own honor guard toward the waters to clear the way for the barge of horses. The others she starts to gather around to form a ring so that the horses do not bolt the moment they get clear of the barge to the shore, knowing that those handling the horses will need help once they get to shore in controlling the animals.
The barge hits the shore and the ramps drop. Squires and handlers bring the horses ashore. The ring of men serve to keep them from wandering off. Men shout back and forth trying to get organized after the attack from below. Long boats are hauled from the surf soldiers look about nervous, the smell of burning meat now mingling into the chill mist.
Miranda waits until the boat is close enough to shore that she won't drown in her own armor, and then simply steps overboard. She miscalculates slightly; the water is actually over her head, and it takes several seconds before she can make her way to a point where she can breathe. She's still soaking wet, freezing, and waterlogged. But at least she isn't on a boat any more, and any undead that happen to come within reach get to enjoy the full force of her annoyance.
A little while after Miranda, having watched her journey under the sea, Pascal jumps off into shallower water. It comes up to his chest as he wades to shore, beating any undead nearby brutally as he does so.
Aleksandra, in her lighter Armour, jumps overboard fairly early though the weight of steel around her torso is still sufficient she rapidly sinks as she whips out her offhand blade and uses it to ventilate a zombie which gets too close for comfort in an underwater hug. Fortunately she did put her helmet on earlier and a steel bascinet proves good protection against attempts to eat brains, before long she is wading backward toward the shore leaving a trail of amputated hands or stabbed corpses behind her.
Harold whistles sharply once Chessy is free of the barge. The chestnut war steed rears hooves lashing before she brakes through the circle to run to her Knight. He steel armor seeming to look more then a little like Harold's. As she closes he pulls himself into the saddle.
Enzo is in now rush to dive out of his boat, seeing as it's a stable firing platform AND keeps his smokes dry. He continues to do his best to provide cover fire for the dampened members of the team. Even under water, his laughing jeers to the enemy can be heard. "Take that! Ha! You don't like it, but you have to take it! Because yer DEAD! Haaa!" He might enjoy this a bit too much.
RPG: Melina challenges a difficulty of 9. Melina chooses Wits. Melina fails.
Melina sputters as an undead hand drags her underneath as she attempts to swim assure She barely gets out a "Help" before her disappears beneath the waves
RPG: Izett challenges a difficulty of 9. Izett chooses Wits and the gift SKL-WM. Izett succeeds.
Izett reaches toward her belt as she sees on the horse struggling to get to shore with one of the zombies trying to eat it. Her dagger not flashy or overly accented it is more functional, slicing cleanly through the hand trying to grab the mane of the horse, giving it a boot to push it away as the men collect the horse. Some of her own men seeming a bit surprised at their baroness pulling a weapon, seeming to having always thought the dagger ornamental rather than a functional weapon in her hand.
Pascal twitches and turns as he hears Melina call for help. There isn't a moment's hesitation as he runs after his cousin. "Enzo! Can you take the one holding her down?"
Miranda's nearly to shore -- barely knee-height water -- when Melina's pulled under. She halts where she is for a moment, keeping one eye on Pascal, and the other on those still heading for shore. "Not quite so comfortable an environment as might have been hoped for," she remarks out loud. The urbane understatement is slightly marred by her shivering.
Harold rides up and down the beach shouting orders to his men. He holds his Axe aloft should any zombies approach "Form up, move!" he barks. "Your not on the farm any more"
RPG: Harold declares that he owns this token:
-------------------------------------------------------------------[ BYN ]----
Author: Owen Held By: Harold
Date: Sun May 23 19:36:24 2010 Focus: 3
Title: Footmen
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Created via Pattern Walker (PAT-WA): bonus-token persistent shadowfind story-token token-6 type-pattern walk walk-any walk-ship
Gift description:
The Pattern is a birthright reflected and drawn upon the royal family of Amber, and a frightening source of power for those of the Blood of Oberon. One who has walked the Pattern commands the following:
* Shadowfind mundane resources, such as troops and wealth, represented by up to 6-Focus tokens, for use at story scale and consumable for a bonus in conflicts with resource scope (such as in the resolution of a war).
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Token Description
An extended troop of decently trained, armed, and armored men, of similar human ethnic stock found in Lyonesse. They will be generally strongly loyal, especially in defense of their settler's agricultural communities.
Emma wades out of the water, pausing to offer Miranda an arm the rest of the way out. She murmurs something to the other woman as she does so.
Aleksandra looks back as Melina is grabbed, but others are closer and she continues on toward the beach, a glance to Miranda. "I worry, either they have defended every landing site this heavily or they knew where we were going."
Enzo lines up, squinting through the gloom and murk at where the girl is pulled beneath the waves. "Gotcha covered," he calls back to Pascal, his arm sending another arc of fire ahead a plume of vaguely sulfurous smelling smoke towards the spot. There is a violent hiss of steam where the flame pierces the water and the light beneath the surface surreally exposes the creatures form being impaled by it's tip.
Miranda takes Emma's offered arm with a grateful look, finally making her way out of the water. "I cannot but admit that the same thought has occurred to me, my lady," she says. Plus some shivering. She rakes a hand back through her hair in a vain attempt to get it at least a little drier. Aleksandra's speculation draws a grimace. "Let us hope that it is the former, and that they have been so foolish as to spread their strength so widely."
The last of the corpses are driven back. The losses we light troop wise but several valuable horses, supplies and two of the long boats have been destroyed. The soldiers begin to form up in two wedges at Harold's direction.
Melina comes up sputtering and reaches for pascal grasping his hand with her shivering one
As the landing force is ashore and formed up Aleksandra, Pascal and Melina begin the task of organizing the supplies and supervising the unloading while the main force march up the Bluff toward Canton Shire.
Izett collects her own horse from the collection of animals unloading. Pulling herself up into the saddle she rides over toward Harold, "There is a road..leading off toward a village. Movement within the mists. Couldn't make out the source of the movement before they attacked from the water." she comments to him her dagger once more sheathed back onto her hip.
Enzo hops from the boat onto dry land, assisting in overseeing the securing of a cleared perimeter. He no longer wields spears here. Now an obscenely large scimitar of flame is held in each hand, lighting him and the space around him like a beacon as he looks to assisting Harold in directing troops.
Miranda's horse -- which, through good fortune (?) has made it ashore alive, is, of course, black. It matches. She collects a second horse, one which previously belonged to a fellow who will now have no need of it, in order to provide the Necromancer with a mount. "As your ladyship could not bring one with you," she explains, still trying for 'urbane'.
Harold nods to Izett "Very good" he looks back toward the troops the calls to Miranda "Would you take command of one of the wedges Viscountess? If Enzo would be good enough to stay with your Unit, the Countess Feldane and Baroness Izett can ride with mine.
Emma reaches for the horse's bridle, glancing toward Harold. "Don't you think it'd be wise to split up the Feldanes? We're a bit better at putting those things down permanently than most."
Harold inclines his head to Emma "You make a good point, Enzo do you have a horse?"
Enzo nods to Harold, his two large blades vanishing in a puff of smoke as he turns to regard Miranda. "Yer ladyship," he nods, trudging through the sand to join her.
Miranda nods once to Harold, saying, "Very good, my lord. Her ladyship is of course welcome to accompany me." She does not /specify/ which ladyship, but there it is. "My lord," she greets Enzo, seeming quite pleased by his presence.
Izett peers at Emma curiously for a moment, simply accepting her words on it as she prepares to ride where ever she is sent. Seeming more the scouting type. She keeps a small contingent of her own men at arms with her as she resituates on her horse while everything is sorted out.
"Just Enzo's fine, ladyship," he drawls pleasantly. He looks bout the assembled. "Aye, with all the lady-ships about, in this army, might as well be a navy." Apparently violence doesn't dissuade a pun opportunity.
Emma swings herself up into the saddle, easily. She glances down to Enzo, with his pun. "That was awful. Really, really awful."
As mounts are gotten and groups are formed Harold rides across the front of his men, his Axe smacking the heads of their bills. A wild cheer goes up. The troops begin shouting insults to the mist. "Let's put these creatures back in their graves!" Harold shouts. Chessy rears again, and the men shout and smack the hafts of their poles to the ground.
Miranda mounts -- she's still not the most imposing figure, even on horseback -- and moves to the front of the indicated wedge. "Meaning not to discourage any sort of humor that might aid the troops' morale" -- after this business, they could probably use a bit -- "but I am inclined to agree with her ladyship." Still, she says it with a smile.
Enzo grins and finds a horse, trying to suppress his boyish grin enough to feign regret and failing. Instead, he winks, finding a horse from ...some man, somewhere. "I know. My apologies, and same in advance if they get worse." He wheels the eager mount, once more blossoming smoke and flame to shape into a lance.
RPG: Harold challenges a difficulty of 9. Harold chooses Force and the gifts PHY-ST, SKL-AR, SKL-MC, and STY-KN. Harold succeeds.
RPG: Enzo challenges a difficulty of 9. Enzo chooses Force and the gifts FIR-WM and SKL-AR. Enzo succeeds.
As the mist parts a mass on the living dead surge toward the army. Harold shouts out "Charge!" and spurs his steed, the war horse and ride smash into the mass of rotting corpses bodies are riden down, hacked, cleaved and in one case spurred. Harold's men rush in to exploit the gap the Grand Master opened, the hooks rising and falling as the zombies claw at warm living flesh.
Emma flashes a very brief grin in Miranda's direction. "Now this is more my style," she says, cheerfully, spurring her horse toward the mass of undead that's approaching. Her rapier is still in hand, and when she strikes, the barest touch of her rapier turns shambling zombies into liquefying clumps of dead flesh, no longer animated.
Enzo's lance rams through a walking corpse, replaced by a great, flaming, double headed Axe. It decapitates once, and leaves another in two smoldering halves. It's hurled at another and yet another weapon is shaped of flame; this time another scimitar that arcs in dazzling whooshing arcs about him as he rides.
RPG: Emma declares that she has the Sealing the Dead (DEA-SL) gift. Use '+gift DEA-SL' to view the gift description. Last edit: 23 months ago.
Miranda says, a bit ruefully, "I wish that I could say the same, my lady." The second column of troops raise their weapons with a roar of "Lyonesse!" and charge into the oncoming force of walking dead behind the Necromancer. Miranda fights with her customary efficiency, for the most part; striking points vital even to the undead and striking them very hard indeed. Still, the cold water has not done her any favors.
Izett circles around toward the flank of the group she rides with, eyes searching their flanks making certain that none attack from the side unguarded by the other wedge. Green eyes seeming to almost glow in the midst. Her dagger remaining for the most part on her hip, not seeming one to draw it or carry it in hand till ready to strike. That dagger coming out at one point to strike, missing in the slash from her mount, using her skills with her horse to drive the scattered zombies off to the side and corral them toward the main attacking body.
The Grand Master's gleaming armor soon drips with gore as zombies more splatter the spurt. Chessy hooves flash breaking bodies. The billman are hacking corpse after corpse to bits. Some men fall but they keep their discipline as they try to reach the Grand Master.
Enzo is, for all his flash and bluster, an experienced soldier, and buttresses the formation of knights well with his weapon shaped gouts of flame. He keeps to his place, always ready with a lob of some projectile, be it spear, sword, or dagger, conjured to assist where the unit begins to miss shape. He wheels his horse, attentively, taking instant note of Miranda's plight and pausing his advance in readiness to assist.
Emma spurs her mount into the very center of the battle, and stops. Even though the battle rages on around her, the redhead lifts a hand, and begins to chant in an ancient, unrecognizable tongue (save perhaps to Izett). As she chants, a breeze stirs, and quickly gathers to a frigid wind that swirls around her. The Royal Necromancer curls her fingers into her fist, the air practically crackling with arcane power, and then, with a single word, her fist is opened and her power released. All those undead who have been felled, their pieces still flopping on the ground, suddenly go still. A moment later, they melt into pools of putrescence and nothing more. The rest of the undead are stunned, and easy targets for the killing.
Izett circles as she hears that chanting, those green eyes seeking over the battlefield searching as she listens. That dagger comes out as she hears the words starting to emanate louder. Leaping from her horse as though she knows what is about to occur just as the power is released from Emma, she starts slicing with that dagger finishing off as many as possible while they are stunned.
Miranda may not have been looking /worried/ yet, but she was definitely a little concerned. The undead being suddenly stunned, however, gives her all the time she needs to regain her bearings and her horse, in that approximate order. "Another I owe you, my lady!" she calls to Emma, good-humoredly. And then the work of putting-to-rest resumes.
As the last of the dead are hacked down the town is secured and Monsalvat's foot hold on Albion is established. Harold order the Flag of the Graal run up so any Black Knight in the Isle will no where to come calling.
Enzo had been about to charge towards Miranda when the churning masses of undead begin to melt and crumble. He watches, glancing between them and the abruptly spooky Emma. A moment later his brows lift, and he shrugs. "Well, that wasn't so bad, then."
In the aftermath of the battle the remaining zombies were laid to rest (or the hacked off bit's of them were) The town was secured and the remains of the corpses from both the beach and the town burned to prevent disease. The towns Tavern was set up as HQ and a supply depot was established on the beach.
The fleet of ships is largish, even though the journey is brief a lot of men and supplies are packed into everything that floats and Harold could lay his hands on, The officers of the force stand on the Deck of Pascal's ship, the mist shrouded Isle of Albion looms in the distance.
Pascal's ship, for the record, is pretty obviously not a warship. Most days. The Artemis will do for now, though. Pascal stands at the helm, dressed in armor as he sails for the island. "What I wouldn't do for a good storm."
Izett walks out onto the deck of the ship having changed into something more appropriate. Adjusting her belt as she attaches a dagger onto her hip. You can see the hilt of another tucked into her boot. Hair drawn back into a French braid to keep it out of her face as she looks toward the shores off into the distance. Green eyes holding a very serious gaze.
Miranda, despite the unfortunate associations, has come armored all in black, though the insignia on her shield still marks her out clearly enough. "I pray you, my lord," she says, "speak not that desire so loudly, lest it be answered." She does look a bit green even at the mention of a storm.
Aleksandra has been spending a lot of time doing something she did not expect when she set sail for this place, paperwork, arranging the stowing of supplies and loading of troops, now she has changed into her own light Armour and rests a hand upon the pommel of her sword as she eyes the shore. "So what is known of this land risen from the sea and its inhabitants?"
At mention of a storm the Grand Master eyes Pascal "Don't tempt the God's, they are cranky of late." He is dressed in his full armor and seems very unhappy about being at sea, but hey Albion is an Island. His eyes blue eyes squint "We need to secure the beach, then push to that little town on the bluff, Canton Shire."
Melina stands near her cousin in her usual attire at least outwardly, though those looking carefully or even not so to so carefully will note considerable bulk underneath. She seems to share Miranda's opinion of the storm 'That would help?" she asks pascal, incredulous
Pascal quirks a smile. "A storm wouldn't worry me," he says, "but as you wish, I won't tempt fate further." He looks over the view before them. "A blockade of the beach, then? Or do you believe it would be unnecessary?"
Izett eyes the shoreline those green eyes taking on that odd shade and look as she considers the shoreline with their approach. Her boots sounding softly amidst the shuffling of so many others on the deck as she makes her way toward the rail for a better look at things.
Aleksandra chuckles in a slightly detached manner. "It would make unloading onto the beach impossible even for you cousin, not to mention sinking a good proportion of these vessels and scattering the rest. It would be an unmitigated disaster."
Miranda listens attentively to Harold and to the others. She nods once at the mention of securing the beach, and a second time at the mention of Canton Shire. "Very good, my lord," is her only comment. "May I inquire how your lordship desires us to deploy?"
The Grand Master's Helmed head offers a nod "We need to control the sea's and lines of supply, our army shall not falter from a lack of food." Turning to Miranda. "once we take the beach we will split the men into two wedges, and march until we meet resistance." He turns to squint at the beach "Once the town is secure we will make it our base of operation, the beach will be our supply depot."
Aleksandra does chime in now. "I would warn that with the limited number of animals that could be fitted aboard ship, the range we can march inland from that supply depot is going to be limited and foraging a problem even with despoiling the countryside. Securing draft animals for the baggage train should be a priority if you plan to move too far from the coast."
Enzo's approach is heralded by the slow, unhurried clunk of boots up the stair from below deck. His even swagger carries him up into view, towards the rail for a glimpse of land. He arrives in time to mutely take in Harold's orders but he only scowls over the side. "I dislike boats," he contributes to the exchange, helpfully.
"More animals can be brought in over time," Pascal says as they approach the shore. "If we set the town as our base, we can take a little time to move things in." A glance to Enzo. "So long as you don't lose your lunch on anything valuable."
The mist shrouded beach looms ahead of the ship, the demarcation point rapidly approaches. In the distance shouts of captains to crews as the ships prepare to deploy their troops.
Izett watches the shoreline closely, green eyes remaining with that odd look to them. Waiting for the time to leave the ship and step onto the shore. She draws in a slow deep breath preparing herself listening to everything around her and drinking in all the information and planning.
Melina peers intently at the approaching shoreline. Her focus on just that and lack of storm means she's doing better with being at sea this time
Miranda's only response to these instructions is a nod. She thereafter sets to adjusting the straps and buckles of her obsidian armor with unsmiling intensity. Only Enzo's remark draws a nod and an, "I myself am incline to agree with you, my lord, meaning no offense to boats and those who find them appealing."
"That is why we need to control the sea, we have horses, armor, food. We lack ships" Harold speaks to Alexandra. He looks to Izett "Why is it we do not have a navy?" Harold dislike of Sea travel is well known, he hold his tongue on the subject. A white scarf is tied about his right arm at the elbow.
"That kills quite a lot of animals though and they take up a great deal of room. It is an expensive option though." Aleksandra answers to Pascal before then eying the shoreline carefully, as the ships continue to draw closer she distractedly folds up her hair before placing an arming cap over her head, then dons a plain steel bascinet helm before shrugging her hands into gloves. She nods to Harold. "Well maintaining warships is hugely expensive Sir Harold and it does require actual cash rather than manors granted to knights for their maintenance which is far simpler. Hence fleets like this of merchant vessels stuffed with soldiers."
Izett tilts her head not taking her eyes from the shoreline as she answers Harold, "Because an army is more useful in Monsalvat than a navy, Grand Master Harold." she states softly. Still studying the movements within the swirling mists and fogs on the shoreline with a bit of apprehension.
Pascal smiles thinly. "If the need omes," he says, "and the money is raised, someone will help build a navy."
Miranda glances up, suddenly. Her eyes lose focus.
RPG: Miranda accepts a Trump call.
Enzo reaches into his jack and finds a packet of cigarettes there. "I value lunch beyond most things," he muses to Pascal. Replying to Miranda as his cigarette kindles on his lip, apparently of it's own accord,
"I wouldn't worry, the ship seems unmoved by our disapproval." He offers both who'd spoken to him one from his pack with silent gesture. He doesn't reply to sir Harold, standing tacitly by his aforementioned dislike of boats as he leans on the rail, smoking quietly.
The Demarcation point A red painted barrel weighted and anchored to the bottom, this is as close as the ships dare go. Bells ring as long boats are lowered from other ships. A towed barge containing the horses is cut free and sailor begin to row for shore.
"Beyond even breakfast?" Asks Aleksandra idly of Enzo there as she adjusts her gauntlets, then pulls off the left glove and tries it again with apparently more success. "Well time for us to act then. Sir Harold, do I have your leave to shout at people when this inevitably leads to a horrendous tangle of men and supplies piled upon the beach in an attempt to stop it from getting worse?"
Miranda, clad in obsidian armor, has a rather grim and serious look to her. Some of that fades when she sees who it is that's calling. "Good eve, my lady," she says, while the ship in the background approaches the beaches of Albion.
Melina grins at aleksandra''s remark and awaits with interest sir harold's reply to the query
"You have my leave to do as you must to keep us moving forward. Viscountess would you lead...oh" Harold hushes as he sees Miranda talking to the air. "We need the men formed up as soon as their toes are in the sand, Keep things moving we don't want to be caught standing."
Izett swings a leg out over the railing, climbing down onto one of the boats heading toward the shore. She seems to go for one of the first boats leaving for the shore apparently scouting things out while the army gets organized and the horses are arranged for.
Miranda says -- with perhaps the faintest flicker of a smile -- "A message so welcome needs no apology, Countess; an' such should be speedily granted, were it required. How may I serve your ladyship?"
Enzo squints, thoughtfully scratching his beard as he peers through the gloom to land. "My breakfasts usually have scheduling issues with most people's lunches," he answers mildly. He eyes the boats dubiously, with a 'you're serious' look of plaintivity shot to Harold. With a reigned sigh he acquiesces, heading for the boats and trailing cigarette smoke behind him. "I usually charge way more for this sort of thing," he broods. "You're lucky I'm a sucker for the impoverished."
Pascal frowns, lowering the sail on the Artemis as it nears the demarcation point. "Melina, drop the anchor," he says. "Make sure everyone gets off easy."
Miranda admits, "I myself am ill-suited to judge, my lady, but, as we have not yet engaged the enemy, I do not think it could be said that they are under control. An' your ladyship did not find other matters more diverting, I doubt not that the aid of the Necromancer Royal would be most welcome."
"Well there is a plan." Aleksandra peers at the boats being dropped, troops and supplies pouring into them. "Which so far seems to be within acceptable bounds." A longboat full of horses then overturns as a rope lowering the next creature snaps, there is much screaming and flailing. She winces. "Please keep in mind that the plan does acknowledge a certain loss rate from accidents. Landing animals without a proper dock is apparently rather difficult."
Miranda extends a hand to the air.
Emma appears suddenly, grasping Miranda's hand.
Harold shakes his head as he watches a horse tumble into the drink. Thankfully the beast is close enough to shore that it doesn't just drown, the supplies on the other hand...they are just lost. "Load the boats" he snaps. As Emma steps out of thin air he blinks "Welcome to Lyonesse Lady Emma."
Miranda takes a step back when the Countess arrives; enough space to make a proper (by which is meant 'formal and in the archaic style of Lyonesse') bow. "My lady. It is most good of you to come to our assistance."
Melina obediently if a tad awkwardly hefts the anchor and throws it ashore. she is not about to question has her cousin actually judged her capable of doing something and would likely throw out her back before saying a word. thankfully said injury does not occur and anchor meets beach with a hearty thunk
Emma casts a brief glance about her, taking in the surroundings. "Thank you, Viscountess," she says to Miranda, before quirking a wry smile at Harold. "My lord. Am I late to the party?"
Aleksandra bows her head to Emma with a somewhat relieved smile once she appears. "Welcome cousin, I am heartened to have your aid here, I fear my own studies of the arts wielded by our enemies here have been left to lapse since I married out of the house and I was not altogether confident as the only individual with such skills taking part in the expedition."
Harold clears his throat "I believe Baroness Izett is also a Feldane, if you will excuse me" he glances over the rail, "time to go to work." That said he climbs over the rail and settles himself in the long boat.
Enzo is grabbing one of the winch ropes to climb down into one of the boats; too manly for a ladder, apparently. Cigarette still hanging from his lips, he squints at the others. Lacking the other's senses of formality, he mimes a small salutary gesture of greeting to the arriving Emma chipperly. "Aye. Stuff needs killin'," he agrees with Harold.
"Why, the merriment begins with the arrival of your good self, my lady," Miranda says, a little good cheer making its way through her general gloominess. "I fear, however, that the hosts are impatient for us to arrive. After your ladyship," she says, with an rather over-florid gesture.
The fog swirls on the beach giving a haunted feel, in the distance shuffling and a low moan can be heard.
Emma flashes a brief grin in Aleksandra's direction. "Oh, I'm sure you'd have been just fine without me." Harold's words are acknowledged with a nod. "And Izett; you'd have been amply fine. But alas, I'm here now." She moves to follow folks to, well, wherever they're going to get to land.
Pascal leaves the helm behind himself to go to the longboats himself, settling into position.
The air grows deathly still, and a chill hangs in this fog and mist. The waves crash to the sandy beach, not even the sound of a gull breaks the Erie calm, the whole of this land feels /wrong/
Melina scampers down after her cousin and shivers as she does so
Harold stands at the front of a long boat, his red and white shield slung to his arm, a war Axe dangles from his wrist. As the boat scrapes bottom he jumps into the surf quickly moving up the beach to try and get a vantage point that will let him see the landing.
Aleksandra frowns as she disembarks to a boat and regards the mists with narrowed eyes. "From the sound and look of things the enemy are at hand, that is worrying." She rests a gauntleted hand on the hilt of her sword now before simply waiting for the boat to hit the beach without further ado.
Enzo, despite his gruff and smokey manner assists the ladies with climbing into the boat and seating before settling in himself. His face screws into a grimace as he surveys the place, and he looks dubiously to Harold. "Y'know, I could recommend some nicer places to invade, if ye liked, if you were looking for real-estate."
Izett leads the horse onto shore holding onto the mane as she looks over the land. She glances around and then starts to make her way further inland while all the men start to climb up onto the shore. She motions to a few of the men from her own barony, a honor guard as it were though some of the faster smaller men seeming to go forward to scout things out rather than take a chance of the men being attacked by surprise while the landing actions are going on.
(You paged Izett with 'A short way off the beach a good road is found, the weeds grow as tall as your waist In the distance you can make out the town, and something is moving there.'.) What Izett discovers just off the beach.
Emma gives Enzo a rather amused look as he helps her into the boat, but refrains from overt comment, instead murmuring her thanks. She lets her gaze stray toward the shore.
From the sea you hear men shout in panic as the drown dead shamble from the could water. Crabs cling to rotting flesh as they start to grab at boats still trying to make shore.
At the first sign of trouble, the cheerfulness vanishes from Miranda's expression like a puff of smoke. A glance down at herself, then a glance down into the water to measure its depth. Gripping one side of the boat, she unsheathes the heavy sword with her other hand and leans over to peer down into the sea for any approaching undead.
Pascal lifts his staff slightly as he looks down into he water as well, taking his cue from Miranda. "We're placing ourselves in a trap," he murmurs.
The water is less the ten feet deep The walking dead seem to be grabbing boats at about the six foot mark. Horses scream in terror as the barge bearing them toward shore is attacked. Panicked sailors swing their oars trying to drive the animated corpses back,
Enzo mutters some obscenity as he peers over the side of the small craft. Smoke issues from one of his hands, and from the smoke, sparks. The firefly like lights coalesce, flaring and merging amidst heat ripples to form into a brutally tipped spear shaft composed entirely of simmering flames. "This is one of those moments I'm glad I'm not wearing armor." His cigarette is still perched on his lip.
"That is Sir Harold's prerogative to decide upon." Answers Aleksandra to Pascal there as she smoothly unsheathes her own slender bladed weapon and moves to the side of the boat where she crouches ready.
"Remember to use blades, they do not really care about being clubbed but feeling no pain is not a defense against amputated limbs."
Izett turns as she hears the screams of the men, and the horses. Frowning as she makes her way toward the edges of the water preparing to help the handlers of the horses when they reach shore. Her hand on the one horse that already making it to shore trying to keep him calm while hearing the upset of the other animals.
Emma's expression turns vaguely irritated, when she sees the undead grasping at the boats. Carefully, she unsheathes her rapier, waiting for anything to get close enough for her to take a swing at. "Or fire. Fire works."
"Their after the horses" Harold's voice booms. "get that cursed thing to shore!" he begins to wad into the surf hoping to reach the besieged barge.
Melina sighs and winces at the sight of the undead as there hands clamor to reach the ships "This is becoming a distinct pattern" she attempts to use her own as a weapon if she must but mostly watches for oncoming attackers "To the right" she informs her cousin
RPG: Enzo challenges a difficulty of 9. Enzo chooses Force and the gifts FIR-WM and SKL-AR. Enzo succeeds.
RPG: Emma challenges a difficulty of 9. Emma chooses Wits and the gifts DEA-BN and STY-SW. Emma succeeds.
RPG: Aleksandra challenges a difficulty of 9. Aleksandra chooses Wits and the gifts DEA-FM and SKL-WM. Aleksandra succeeds.
RPG: Miranda challenges a difficulty of 9. Miranda chooses Wits and the gifts BLD-OB and SKL-AR. Miranda succeeds.
Enzo's arm jerks and the weapon he'd been holding arcs in a dazzling flash through the gloom, to culminate in an flash that explodes cleanly through one of the monstrous forms. The thing collapsing under the tide doesn't seem to extinguish the flames, even as another spear forms in his hand and arcs lethally towards another target and another.
Miranda doesn't bother even trying to swing the heavy sword. Rather, when she spots something, as the boat approaches shore, she simply stabs down at it in a quick, sudden motion. This leaves her dangerously overextended vis-a-vis the water, but at least she seems to have hit what she was aiming at. At least, it doesn't get hold of the boat.
"Fire does indeed work, at least magical fire!" Observes Aleksandra with a cold grin before she watches the lunging strike of one of the animate corpses intently, waiting until it is extended before then delivering a deliberate slash to the tendons on the inside of an arm before arcing across to block another attack in the same motion, the backhand taking a zombie in the side of the head and sending it slumping. She moves the weapon in wide and deliberate arcs, measured thrusts, no special speed but everything planned five steps in advance as the undead assailants telegraph their actions transparently.
RPG: Pascal challenges a difficulty of 9. Pascal chooses Wits and the gift SKL-WM. Pascal succeeds.
Emma's expression turns just a little bored, as she flicks her rapier in the direction of one of the approaching zombies. Both of the living corpse's hands, which had been grasping at the edge of the boat nearby, are neatly severed and the thing slumps back into the water. And so it goes, with the redhead effortlessly detaching the limpet-like undead from wherever she can reach.
Pascal gives the others a raised eyebrow before taking his staff and swinging at the nearest approaching zombie with it anyways. Remarkably, despite being unable to cut, a heavy blunt object is still able to break bones like the ones in zombie arms. And skulls. "Why does everyone assume that if it doesn't have a cleaver on the end," he mutters to himself.
The waves crash about Harold as he watches the flaming spears arc, the sailor on the barge cheer and begin rowing for all their worth for the shore.
Enzo squints through his cigarette smoke, sizing up one target after another. "Yeah, not so tough now, are ye, ye decayin' lil' buggers? Any more oh you want some of this... oh you? Here..." *whoosh* "Eat some of -those- brains!" *whoosh*
Izett rounds up the men on the shore to, gesturing toward the path of the barge toward the shore, "Clear a path!" she calls to the men sending even her own honor guard toward the waters to clear the way for the barge of horses. The others she starts to gather around to form a ring so that the horses do not bolt the moment they get clear of the barge to the shore, knowing that those handling the horses will need help once they get to shore in controlling the animals.
The barge hits the shore and the ramps drop. Squires and handlers bring the horses ashore. The ring of men serve to keep them from wandering off. Men shout back and forth trying to get organized after the attack from below. Long boats are hauled from the surf soldiers look about nervous, the smell of burning meat now mingling into the chill mist.
Miranda waits until the boat is close enough to shore that she won't drown in her own armor, and then simply steps overboard. She miscalculates slightly; the water is actually over her head, and it takes several seconds before she can make her way to a point where she can breathe. She's still soaking wet, freezing, and waterlogged. But at least she isn't on a boat any more, and any undead that happen to come within reach get to enjoy the full force of her annoyance.
A little while after Miranda, having watched her journey under the sea, Pascal jumps off into shallower water. It comes up to his chest as he wades to shore, beating any undead nearby brutally as he does so.
Aleksandra, in her lighter Armour, jumps overboard fairly early though the weight of steel around her torso is still sufficient she rapidly sinks as she whips out her offhand blade and uses it to ventilate a zombie which gets too close for comfort in an underwater hug. Fortunately she did put her helmet on earlier and a steel bascinet proves good protection against attempts to eat brains, before long she is wading backward toward the shore leaving a trail of amputated hands or stabbed corpses behind her.
Harold whistles sharply once Chessy is free of the barge. The chestnut war steed rears hooves lashing before she brakes through the circle to run to her Knight. He steel armor seeming to look more then a little like Harold's. As she closes he pulls himself into the saddle.
Enzo is in now rush to dive out of his boat, seeing as it's a stable firing platform AND keeps his smokes dry. He continues to do his best to provide cover fire for the dampened members of the team. Even under water, his laughing jeers to the enemy can be heard. "Take that! Ha! You don't like it, but you have to take it! Because yer DEAD! Haaa!" He might enjoy this a bit too much.
RPG: Melina challenges a difficulty of 9. Melina chooses Wits. Melina fails.
Melina sputters as an undead hand drags her underneath as she attempts to swim assure She barely gets out a "Help" before her disappears beneath the waves
RPG: Izett challenges a difficulty of 9. Izett chooses Wits and the gift SKL-WM. Izett succeeds.
Izett reaches toward her belt as she sees on the horse struggling to get to shore with one of the zombies trying to eat it. Her dagger not flashy or overly accented it is more functional, slicing cleanly through the hand trying to grab the mane of the horse, giving it a boot to push it away as the men collect the horse. Some of her own men seeming a bit surprised at their baroness pulling a weapon, seeming to having always thought the dagger ornamental rather than a functional weapon in her hand.
Pascal twitches and turns as he hears Melina call for help. There isn't a moment's hesitation as he runs after his cousin. "Enzo! Can you take the one holding her down?"
Miranda's nearly to shore -- barely knee-height water -- when Melina's pulled under. She halts where she is for a moment, keeping one eye on Pascal, and the other on those still heading for shore. "Not quite so comfortable an environment as might have been hoped for," she remarks out loud. The urbane understatement is slightly marred by her shivering.
Harold rides up and down the beach shouting orders to his men. He holds his Axe aloft should any zombies approach "Form up, move!" he barks. "Your not on the farm any more"
RPG: Harold declares that he owns this token:
-------------------------------------------------------------------[ BYN ]----
Author: Owen Held By: Harold
Date: Sun May 23 19:36:24 2010 Focus: 3
Title: Footmen
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Created via Pattern Walker (PAT-WA): bonus-token persistent shadowfind story-token token-6 type-pattern walk walk-any walk-ship
Gift description:
The Pattern is a birthright reflected and drawn upon the royal family of Amber, and a frightening source of power for those of the Blood of Oberon. One who has walked the Pattern commands the following:
* Shadowfind mundane resources, such as troops and wealth, represented by up to 6-Focus tokens, for use at story scale and consumable for a bonus in conflicts with resource scope (such as in the resolution of a war).
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Token Description
An extended troop of decently trained, armed, and armored men, of similar human ethnic stock found in Lyonesse. They will be generally strongly loyal, especially in defense of their settler's agricultural communities.
Emma wades out of the water, pausing to offer Miranda an arm the rest of the way out. She murmurs something to the other woman as she does so.
Aleksandra looks back as Melina is grabbed, but others are closer and she continues on toward the beach, a glance to Miranda. "I worry, either they have defended every landing site this heavily or they knew where we were going."
Enzo lines up, squinting through the gloom and murk at where the girl is pulled beneath the waves. "Gotcha covered," he calls back to Pascal, his arm sending another arc of fire ahead a plume of vaguely sulfurous smelling smoke towards the spot. There is a violent hiss of steam where the flame pierces the water and the light beneath the surface surreally exposes the creatures form being impaled by it's tip.
Miranda takes Emma's offered arm with a grateful look, finally making her way out of the water. "I cannot but admit that the same thought has occurred to me, my lady," she says. Plus some shivering. She rakes a hand back through her hair in a vain attempt to get it at least a little drier. Aleksandra's speculation draws a grimace. "Let us hope that it is the former, and that they have been so foolish as to spread their strength so widely."
The last of the corpses are driven back. The losses we light troop wise but several valuable horses, supplies and two of the long boats have been destroyed. The soldiers begin to form up in two wedges at Harold's direction.
Melina comes up sputtering and reaches for pascal grasping his hand with her shivering one
As the landing force is ashore and formed up Aleksandra, Pascal and Melina begin the task of organizing the supplies and supervising the unloading while the main force march up the Bluff toward Canton Shire.
Izett collects her own horse from the collection of animals unloading. Pulling herself up into the saddle she rides over toward Harold, "There is a road..leading off toward a village. Movement within the mists. Couldn't make out the source of the movement before they attacked from the water." she comments to him her dagger once more sheathed back onto her hip.
Enzo hops from the boat onto dry land, assisting in overseeing the securing of a cleared perimeter. He no longer wields spears here. Now an obscenely large scimitar of flame is held in each hand, lighting him and the space around him like a beacon as he looks to assisting Harold in directing troops.
Miranda's horse -- which, through good fortune (?) has made it ashore alive, is, of course, black. It matches. She collects a second horse, one which previously belonged to a fellow who will now have no need of it, in order to provide the Necromancer with a mount. "As your ladyship could not bring one with you," she explains, still trying for 'urbane'.
Harold nods to Izett "Very good" he looks back toward the troops the calls to Miranda "Would you take command of one of the wedges Viscountess? If Enzo would be good enough to stay with your Unit, the Countess Feldane and Baroness Izett can ride with mine.
Emma reaches for the horse's bridle, glancing toward Harold. "Don't you think it'd be wise to split up the Feldanes? We're a bit better at putting those things down permanently than most."
Harold inclines his head to Emma "You make a good point, Enzo do you have a horse?"
Enzo nods to Harold, his two large blades vanishing in a puff of smoke as he turns to regard Miranda. "Yer ladyship," he nods, trudging through the sand to join her.
Miranda nods once to Harold, saying, "Very good, my lord. Her ladyship is of course welcome to accompany me." She does not /specify/ which ladyship, but there it is. "My lord," she greets Enzo, seeming quite pleased by his presence.
Izett peers at Emma curiously for a moment, simply accepting her words on it as she prepares to ride where ever she is sent. Seeming more the scouting type. She keeps a small contingent of her own men at arms with her as she resituates on her horse while everything is sorted out.
"Just Enzo's fine, ladyship," he drawls pleasantly. He looks bout the assembled. "Aye, with all the lady-ships about, in this army, might as well be a navy." Apparently violence doesn't dissuade a pun opportunity.
Emma swings herself up into the saddle, easily. She glances down to Enzo, with his pun. "That was awful. Really, really awful."
As mounts are gotten and groups are formed Harold rides across the front of his men, his Axe smacking the heads of their bills. A wild cheer goes up. The troops begin shouting insults to the mist. "Let's put these creatures back in their graves!" Harold shouts. Chessy rears again, and the men shout and smack the hafts of their poles to the ground.
Miranda mounts -- she's still not the most imposing figure, even on horseback -- and moves to the front of the indicated wedge. "Meaning not to discourage any sort of humor that might aid the troops' morale" -- after this business, they could probably use a bit -- "but I am inclined to agree with her ladyship." Still, she says it with a smile.
Enzo grins and finds a horse, trying to suppress his boyish grin enough to feign regret and failing. Instead, he winks, finding a horse from ...some man, somewhere. "I know. My apologies, and same in advance if they get worse." He wheels the eager mount, once more blossoming smoke and flame to shape into a lance.
RPG: Harold challenges a difficulty of 9. Harold chooses Force and the gifts PHY-ST, SKL-AR, SKL-MC, and STY-KN. Harold succeeds.
RPG: Enzo challenges a difficulty of 9. Enzo chooses Force and the gifts FIR-WM and SKL-AR. Enzo succeeds.
As the mist parts a mass on the living dead surge toward the army. Harold shouts out "Charge!" and spurs his steed, the war horse and ride smash into the mass of rotting corpses bodies are riden down, hacked, cleaved and in one case spurred. Harold's men rush in to exploit the gap the Grand Master opened, the hooks rising and falling as the zombies claw at warm living flesh.
Emma flashes a very brief grin in Miranda's direction. "Now this is more my style," she says, cheerfully, spurring her horse toward the mass of undead that's approaching. Her rapier is still in hand, and when she strikes, the barest touch of her rapier turns shambling zombies into liquefying clumps of dead flesh, no longer animated.
Enzo's lance rams through a walking corpse, replaced by a great, flaming, double headed Axe. It decapitates once, and leaves another in two smoldering halves. It's hurled at another and yet another weapon is shaped of flame; this time another scimitar that arcs in dazzling whooshing arcs about him as he rides.
RPG: Emma declares that she has the Sealing the Dead (DEA-SL) gift. Use '+gift DEA-SL' to view the gift description. Last edit: 23 months ago.
Miranda says, a bit ruefully, "I wish that I could say the same, my lady." The second column of troops raise their weapons with a roar of "Lyonesse!" and charge into the oncoming force of walking dead behind the Necromancer. Miranda fights with her customary efficiency, for the most part; striking points vital even to the undead and striking them very hard indeed. Still, the cold water has not done her any favors.
Izett circles around toward the flank of the group she rides with, eyes searching their flanks making certain that none attack from the side unguarded by the other wedge. Green eyes seeming to almost glow in the midst. Her dagger remaining for the most part on her hip, not seeming one to draw it or carry it in hand till ready to strike. That dagger coming out at one point to strike, missing in the slash from her mount, using her skills with her horse to drive the scattered zombies off to the side and corral them toward the main attacking body.
The Grand Master's gleaming armor soon drips with gore as zombies more splatter the spurt. Chessy hooves flash breaking bodies. The billman are hacking corpse after corpse to bits. Some men fall but they keep their discipline as they try to reach the Grand Master.
Enzo is, for all his flash and bluster, an experienced soldier, and buttresses the formation of knights well with his weapon shaped gouts of flame. He keeps to his place, always ready with a lob of some projectile, be it spear, sword, or dagger, conjured to assist where the unit begins to miss shape. He wheels his horse, attentively, taking instant note of Miranda's plight and pausing his advance in readiness to assist.
Emma spurs her mount into the very center of the battle, and stops. Even though the battle rages on around her, the redhead lifts a hand, and begins to chant in an ancient, unrecognizable tongue (save perhaps to Izett). As she chants, a breeze stirs, and quickly gathers to a frigid wind that swirls around her. The Royal Necromancer curls her fingers into her fist, the air practically crackling with arcane power, and then, with a single word, her fist is opened and her power released. All those undead who have been felled, their pieces still flopping on the ground, suddenly go still. A moment later, they melt into pools of putrescence and nothing more. The rest of the undead are stunned, and easy targets for the killing.
Izett circles as she hears that chanting, those green eyes seeking over the battlefield searching as she listens. That dagger comes out as she hears the words starting to emanate louder. Leaping from her horse as though she knows what is about to occur just as the power is released from Emma, she starts slicing with that dagger finishing off as many as possible while they are stunned.
Miranda may not have been looking /worried/ yet, but she was definitely a little concerned. The undead being suddenly stunned, however, gives her all the time she needs to regain her bearings and her horse, in that approximate order. "Another I owe you, my lady!" she calls to Emma, good-humoredly. And then the work of putting-to-rest resumes.
As the last of the dead are hacked down the town is secured and Monsalvat's foot hold on Albion is established. Harold order the Flag of the Graal run up so any Black Knight in the Isle will no where to come calling.
Enzo had been about to charge towards Miranda when the churning masses of undead begin to melt and crumble. He watches, glancing between them and the abruptly spooky Emma. A moment later his brows lift, and he shrugs. "Well, that wasn't so bad, then."
In the aftermath of the battle the remaining zombies were laid to rest (or the hacked off bit's of them were) The town was secured and the remains of the corpses from both the beach and the town burned to prevent disease. The towns Tavern was set up as HQ and a supply depot was established on the beach.