Volcica wields Spirits' Journey, a rubicund spear.

Charlemagne wields Blackhail the Greatsword of Glacial Grove.

Volcica wields Everwinter, the diamondplate staff.

Lorenzo wields mirrored moonlight steel saber with shadowed edges.


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The legions of Azazel were delayed marching across the Everwinter. Avalanches, destroyed passes, sabotage, and harrying attacks tried to bleed the forces every step of the way. But still they came on, killing everything that could not escape. More domains have fallen. Some evacuated, some with bitter last stands, but fall they have. And now the horde comes to Farhaven. The walls of Farhaven have stood for a thousand years, built after the harrowing of the first Reckoning. And defenders lining the walls see the slow tide that marches south along the horizon. And ending sea of dark creatures. Mostly shards, twisted humans empowered by the abyss, many wearing armor and carrying arms from their lives, however ill suited they are to them. But not only shards.

Tens of thousands of monstrosities from shardhavens are here. Demons among them, and the air is black with winged creatures. On the ground, the standards bearing the fanged mouth of Azazel wave in the breeze, and the mouth on the banners move.

There's no subtlety in the approach. A slow beat of drums, a low howl of the demonic horde that becomes louder by the moment as they creep closer and closer. They mean to storm Farhaven.
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Acantha wields Icebreaker.

There are hundreds of military leaders among the host summoned by the call of Redrain's banners. The Northlands has never been a peaceful place at the best of times, and every domain has known war, whether against the shavs or other houses of the Compact. But many of the weathered veterans on the walls pale, and more than a few leaders are happy to have passed command onto their liege lords. There's cries of preparation, as soldiers lining the walls prepare for the inevitable assault. Thraxian fire has been given to the North, and there's barrels of it, and archers prepare. Siege weapons ready to fire.

Not quite in range yet, but soon.

There's time for last preparation, and then the hammer will land.

((OOC: One first round of preparatory rolls. Mirk and Khanne, you can try to do a summoning at hard each, and anyone with leadership or war rolls can try to prepare the troops before the fight starts- daunting leadership, hard for war))

Mirk checks mana and occult at hard. Mirk is successful.

Khanne checks mana and occult at hard. Khanne marginally fails.

Donella checks command and war at hard. Donella fails.

Elora checks command and war at hard. Elora fails.

Brianna checks command and war at hard. Brianna is successful.

Gwenna checks command and leadership at daunting. Critical Success! Gwenna is spectacularly successful.

Deva checks command and leadership at daunting. Botch! Deva fails completely.

Romulius checks command and war at hard. Critical Success! Romulius is spectacularly successful.

Lorenzo checks charm and leadership at daunting. Lorenzo is successful.

Umbroise checks composure and leadership at daunting. Umbroise is successful.

Acantha checks command and leadership at daunting. Acantha fails.

Volcica checks mana and occult at hard. Volcica is successful.

Magaen checks command and war at hard. Magaen is successful.

These lands aren't familiar to the Ravenseye. There's no nearby sea, and their Navy is stuck at Arx. Everything sort of feels off within the Storm, even though Lady Elora tries to assuage her people. Those endless shards are unmanning for the best of people. So for now, they're just going to focus on some deeeeeep breathing and get into formations in a minute.

It's difficult, difficult work trying to prepare the forces, to stiffen their resolve before the hammer falls. Many are at a loss what to do against flying foes, when their defenses are entirely against thos eon the land, but still they manage. The soldiers won't break, and are prepared.

((+3 to the army on the first round, round of poses before the battle starts properly){N

These lands aren't familiar to the Ravenseye. There's no nearby sea, and their Navy is stuck at Arx. Everything sort of feels off within the Storm, even though Lady Elora tries to assuage her people. Those endless shards are unmanning for the best of people. So for now, they're just going to focus on some deeeeeep breathing and get into formations in a minute. <in the right place>

Everything that could have been done to prepare, everything that was within the stores of silver and resources from every House within the Northlands, has been done. The leaders of the various Redrain armies have been given their orders - protect the people, hold the castle. Gwenna stands among the many who have come to do the same. Her greatest weapons have always been words, but this situation will surely call for more - much more - than that. "We are Farhaven," she says in a voice that she hopes might carry up to the ramparts. "We are Farhaven! To the last! It is my honor and privilege to fight by your sides today!"

This one is a warrior Princess. Riling up the crowds have never been her thing. She chooses a high spot and looks down on what's to come. Looks down in horror. The cries of encouragment from her cousins shake out her fear. Yes, even Warrior Princesses can show fear. She straightens her spine and hits her scythe's pole against the ground, echoing Gwenna, "To the Last!".

Mirk stands upon the walls of Farhaven, a staff in one hand and a sword in the other. Shaman and warrior, in balance, for this day of all days. There, he can feel the elements: The wind in his face, the cold of the North, never quite abated, even in summer. He's standing beside a strange man that few in the North have seen, even during the gatherings for the battle, tall and thin with sapphire blue hair and bright silver eyes. He's whispering prayers to the spirits of the Northlands. Those nearest to him might be able to catch the gist: He's speaking to the wind and the snow, calling upon them and promising to go into battle at their side, to ask them nothing that he would not bear himself.

The spirits answer, as a stormcloud begins to form overhead. It's no natural storm, coming on too swiftly and too locally for that to be true. Once it has formed, a lightning bolt falls down, and where it strikes becomes a humanoid figure of pure lightning, no taller than a man. It stands on Mirk's other side, ready for battle.

Princess Deva Redrain is among the archers, for the moment, and she's looking out across the host with pride. It's not a quite a smile she gives, but she's holding her confidence plain for all to see. Until she looks into the distance and realizes that the darkness in the sky is /not/ storm clouds. "Fuck." She pales, causing an even more stark contrast between her skin and the three vertical red stripes painted on one side of her face. She steps back. Not the most inspiring moment, there, princess.

Triton leans on the parapet near Elora and peers down at the approaching horde, his thoughts his own but his eyes bright with a kind of background madness. He glances only once toward his twin, then back at Elora, then out again at the oncoming army. The rousing shoults and beating drums may as well be a continent away as he breathes quietly and stares.

Volcica may not be performing a summoning of her own, but she's there to support. She weaves her will with Mirk and Khanne, supporting their magic. She's grown up doing this, helping the elder shamans at home. When Khanne needs.. a bit more, Volcica is there. Joining her summoning, lending her voice.

The howls as the enemy host draws near set the hair on Charlemagne's neck standing on edge. He stands next to Magaen, expression grim as they survey the darkness falling. The tip of Blackhail digs into the slim margin of leather bootsole, parked there to save the tip of a weapon that is unlikely to dull in his lifetime -- a span of time which may be measured hours? Minutes? now... still, old lessons stand. He nods at the oncoming throng and lets the surge of defiance swelling through the defender's ranks buoy him. "To each their due," he grates. It is honor to his compatriots and to the enemy... a promise.

Umbroise is not on the front lines. She stands on the battlements of the keep of Farhaven, wearing steelsilk and a pair of hairpins to war. Not a hair is out of place, of course. It's entirely likely the Marquessa has been wearing that same steelsilk gown since she began the evacuations in Aviaron's Peak, and hasn't bothered to change it. Some of the crystal jewels have fallen off, but it still sparkles like ice crystals in whatever light shines on this dark day. She's added her own troops to those of Farhaven's, however, answering the call of her liege. She remains calm and composed, despite the dread army that approaches, and she uses that calm assurance to direct the Red Guard troops she has brought with her. "Steady, Red Guard!" she cries, her voice ringing melodiously clear. "Archers, aim for those flying ones! Pike, get ready to meet the onslaught! Cavalry! Get ready to charge!" She snatches a hairpin out of her perfectly-done hair, and brandishes it high. "For Aviaron's Peak! For Farhaven! For the North!" she cries, doing her best to rally her army to join in courage with the others. And then, she waits, chin lifted, breath held in the perfect image of calm, emotionless composure in the face of danger. She is ice and steelsilk today.

Rosalind stands next to her twin. Her bow ready, a---shield also on her back, one with lightening bolts. That's new. She straightens, eyes large. She nods to Triton and Elora both, head firm. "We got this,"her gaze falling on what's before them. "To the Last,"she cries,"ready for battle.

Lorenzo keeps close by Gwenna, wanting to protect her as well as knowing that the two of them are better together. He has a sword in hand, but his tireless work has been to rally and arrange the troops, giving a supportive word or nod to those who seem nervous or might be disheartened. He makes sure his confidence and strength is seen by the troops, with the hope that this will carry through the last man or woman who fights today.

Donella elbows her way into the gap in the crenellations of the wall. She and her outriders cut it close with the arrival only a few hours before, sweaty and swearing, but likewise striped on the cheek in red. "They're branded. They stopped to make fucking banners," she remarks out of the side of her mouth, with a dark brow upraised, grimly eyeing the dark flapping, slithering, stamping mass of bad news. "As if we didn't bleeding-well know who brought them. Hubris. Alright. Let the bastards know where they are... They should know where their husks are going to be lawn ornaments..."

Brianna stands resolute upon the ancient walls of Farhaven, a mix of armor let to glisten under light from around warriors at the ready. A nod towards her family and of Redrain. Her axe drawn, ready set over shoulder as she looks to the troops besides her. A smile for Deva, and Mirk. A nod towards Gwenna. As she speaks with a voice that echoes like a winter storm, Brianna rallies the troops gathered in the shadow of the mighty walls. Her words resonate with a deep sense of pride and determination, igniting a fire within the hearts of the assembled warriors. The clatter of armor and the rhythmic beat of war drums fill the air as Brianna raises her weapon high, a beacon of hope against the impending shadows.

Magaen walks among people of Glacial Grove, letting them see her assessing eyes, her nod of approval. Letting them hear her words of encouragement. She calls for them to remember the people they fight for. To remember that what comes--whatever comes -- they have each faced their fear. No one, she says, knows fear as they do. Has confronted it, time and again, as they have. They are ready, she assures them, taking up Charlemagne's boast, to deliver: To each their due!

"MY SOLDIERS!"

The booming voice of Romulius echoes towards the men, a smile on his face as he stands on the front lines, standing atop the wall of Farhaven. "We stand today at the precipice. The enemy has brought their legions and we /laugh/. We will fight them anywhere they like! We will fight them wherever they might like! We will fight them where they least want us and where they most want us to be! They will try to surround us, break us, batter us, but WE ARE UNBREAKABLE against the coming of the darkness!!"

He turns his attention outward towards the darkness that encroaches. "Just there, they huddle, sheer terror gripping tight. For they have numbers, but ONLY numbers! We have heart! Each and every one of you matter, each and every one of you have strength! Each and every one of you will cry out in defiance of evil and tyranny! YOU WILL RAGE!"

Romulius draws his blade then. "Make ready yourselves for we let loose our hounds of war. We are the foe-hammers, we are what they fear most. So let's grind them into dust and welcome them into whatever Hell they crawled out of with open arms!"

He echoes the call of others. "WE ARE FARHAVEN!"

It is a difficult task to keep oneself grounded, focused, centered, knowing what is marching their way, yet Khanne tries. Amidst all the flurry of people getting ready, she sits legs crossed upon the wall, eyes closed to the demon darkened skies, focusing on her breathing. She thinks about her past, the paths she has taken in her life to bring her here today, the people she has cared about, the future she hopes for, reminding herself why she is here. And then, she begins to call to the Spirits that may be nearby, requesting their help, for this is their world too. The thrum of the approaching army distracts her for a moment, but thankfully, Volcica is there to help bolster the call. Soon, a Spirit comes into view nearby. It begins with a cloud, like Mirk's, but when hers takes shape it is in perpetual motion, a being not much taller than Khanne formed of water, swirling and tumbling around on itself, sending out a wave to flick against Khanne's hair to let her know it is there. With a smile, Khanne nods. The smile fades quickly and she stands to ready herself.

Azazel's legions keep marching forward. Farhaven's siege weapons begin to fire, trebuchets dropping boulders that roll through their lines, ballistae shooting lances through them, and a gigantic two headed minotaur shrieks in angish as it is pinned by three bolts the size of small trees. Thousands of arrows begin to pour down, and shards begin to to wither under the onslaught.

And still they march on, with and the end of their forces isn't even visible, extended for miles and vanishing into the treeline.

Lightning strikes down upon the forces, and this time it is answered. There's a crackle of what looks like black lightning arcing up, and one beast that looks like a giant floating eye with a dozen eyestalks is raining death on defenders.

In the distance, a few hapless fleeing shavs are seen at the very edge of visibility. Laughing shards bring the banners of Azazel down on them, and the banners... eat then. The banners -are- Azazel, it appears, at least in part. But even that horror is far from many defenders minds, as the first siege ladders begin to near the walls underneath the onslaught.

((Round 1: This is a little free form, in characters can check dex + weapon skill at hard, or any leadership/war type combination at hard, or even any social skill to rally defenders at hard. If someone is performing magic, that is also their stat + skill of choice combination at hard, but note that in your pose/check if it's magic, and you can only perform magic 3 times before beginning to exhaust. Damage will be received on any failed roll.))

Mirk checks mana and occult at hard. Mirk is successful.

Rosalind checks dexterity and archery at hard. Rosalind is successful.

Kace checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Kace is successful.

Triton checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Triton is successful.

Donella checks command and leadership at hard. Donella is successful.

Charlemagne checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Charlemagne fails.

Brianna checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Brianna fails.

Elora checks command and war at hard. Critical Success! Elora is spectacularly successful.

Lorenzo checks charm and leadership at hard. Lorenzo is successful.

Romulius checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Romulius is successful.

Gwenna checks command and leadership at hard. Gwenna fails.

Acantha checks command and leadership at hard. Acantha is successful.

Magaen checks command and leadership at hard. Magaen is successful.

Khanne checks mana and occult at hard. Critical Success! Khanne is spectacularly successful.

Deva checks dexterity and archery at hard. Deva is successful.

Umbroise checks charm and manipulation at hard. Umbroise marginally fails.

[MAGIC] As the battle begins, Mirk spares one more glance for his kin and his friends of the Northlands and offers them a solemn nod. "Gods and spirits go with us all," he says. As he speaks, the strange man beside him leaps forward, off the castle walls. In flight, the man transforms, becoming a dragon with deep blue scales the exact same shade as the mark on Mirk's hand and arm. Mirk climbs onto the dragon's back, and then the pair are off, the lightning elemental following after. Together, dragon and shaman fly headlong into the masses of airborne creatures. Mirk raises his staff, calling upon the winds, unleashing an icy gale that sends creatures tumbling in the air, wings weighed down with frost. The dragon begins to tear through them, using claws and fangs and the sheer weight of its massive body to crush all in its path, while the lightning elemental circles them, unleashing blows like thunderclaps on those that narrowly escaped their wrath. Between Mirk's magic and sheer draconic might, it isn't pretty.

Donella doesn't have time to stop and watch more than one of the banners have a snack. "There," she says to the archers nearby to her. "I will stand your cadre a cask of His Grace's special whiskey for each of those standard bearers you drop with fire arrows. Draw! ...Aim! LOOSE VOLLEY!"

Kace commands whatever troops she was given to lord over and direct here and there. They are doing a fine job, mostly. One of those abominations almost reach her on the hill while trying to devour one of her commanders. One swing of her scythe and he's headless. Chew on that.

Charlemagne checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Charlemagne is successful.

Despite the terrible damage, Charlemagne does not take a permanent wound.

One of the beholders from below blasts Charlemagne with lightning.

Deva manages to pull herself together and ready her bow. She looses arrow after arrow into the line of oncoming Abyssal beings.

Triton begins pacing the line, clapping soldiers on thier shoulders or encouraging archers, smacking his caestus into stone and growling a bstial sound toward the besiegers. "Kill them until they run out of things to kill." Not really yelling, but the deep voice is easily heard by the troops in his vicinity. He stops and reverses, looking hungry from something softer than stone to hit but still not drifintg far from his wife, keeping himself between Elora and her officers and the approaching enemy.

Gwenna pauses to watch the brewing storm, allowing a brief moment to marvel at the power of the spirits. The bolts and ballistae are making their voices known, and this seems to give her more confidence. She tries to continue mustering the forces, but falls much shorter than the passion she managed earlier, it seems. The fleeing shavs have as much an effect on the Redrain as their initial triumphs, and it's tinged the edges of her voice. "Gods and Spirits, guide us through this," she murmurs and then turns to catch sight of her husband, friends, and allies. Clearly she needs to find a better avenue in this fight.

[MAGIC] For a moment, as she stands there surveying the horde that nears, it seems as if Khanne may be biding her time. Anyone nearby who might watch her a moment would see that she seems to still be doing a breathing exercise. Gray eyes begin to shine just a bit brighter as she tries to look beyond the shards and demons, to the very land they walk on, the air the winged ones fly in. She lifts her hands slowly upward and her eyes to the sky. Palms open, she whispers words into the wind as Water begins to dance beside her then drifts up as well. She takes in a deep, lung expanding breath until she can breathe in no more then exhales slowly through pursed lips, bringing water and air together in a dangerous looking cloud above. Suddenly, she claps her hands together with one loud *CLAP* and several bolts of lightning come down from above, turning the world around bright for an instant as it explodes into the ground and takes out a good number of those frontline shards, leaving ashy, smoking demon bodies in its wake.

"Embrace the Storm,"Rosalind tells her people,"before she takes off. Nocking her bow, the copper haired Ravenseye aims her arrow and releases. It finds a target and she smiles triumphantly. "That's for Cillian,"she calls out.

Lorenzo takes a moment to watch the magic and weapons flying, his cousin Mirk leaping onto the back of a dragon and flying off to engage the enemy. He walks along the line of soldiers along the ramparts, giving encouraging words to sharpen focus and lift their spirits. The Northerners are impressive as hell, certainly capable of stopping the enemy.

Elora looks at Triton, her worry allowed to show for a moment. But then... She smiles. It's slow blooming, but sweet and desperately soft. "I'm glad we're together today," she murmurs, leaning in to rest her head briefly on her husband's shoulder. Then she cups his cheek in her hand and smiles again. "You are a treasure to me, and I am by your side, no matter what happens. Don't widow me too quickly, love. I need you." Ros is given a shaky smile and then the woman digs deep and steels herself. "It's time."

Taking a moment to cement her composure, her shoulders square and she walks back to her soldiers. "Stormcrows," she says, her voice a little quiet as is her wont, but the word is spoken so tenderly and with such deep love. "Stormcrows, it is time. For your spouses and lovers, for your children, for your land... The Storm -must rage-." She turns to face the shards. "Formations." The army falls into lines. "Archers with alchemical fire, up!" Archers with flaming arrowheads nock their arrows. "Volley one, now!" THWMP THWMP THWMP. Arrows arc into the shards, carrying fire with them.

Brianna's rousing speech was good for the troops. For herself? Something is missing as she sets to swing while the volley of arrows are fired overhead. The heat of battle finding her again, a want to strike down and save her home. Save those around her, she's left to slice, missing a few in her spin.

Triton smiles after Elora, then grins a little more fiercely as the arrows lift. "Mark your own words, wife." A bit to one sife, he adds to the Copper Archer, "You, too, Pain!"

Romulius looks at the foes ahead of him. The bewing storm approaches, the darkness of Azazel approched. "STAND FIRM!" He looks at his fellows. "Archers at the ready!" He calls as bows are drawn and arrows are knocked, and he lifts his hand. "READY! AIM! FIRE!" and a VOLLEY of arrows are launched into the enemy! Forced to stay at range for now, Romulius unsheathes the alaricite of his blade and he awaits the armies to come and greet them.

Charlemagne charges forward, a shout in his throat, at the head of Glacial Grove's column! Screaming right into the bolt of lightning thrown from a baleful eye stalk of a creature straight out of nightmare. He drops in place, smoking as soldiery charges on and then... slowly... climbs... "Not-" to his feet, singed and blackened, eyes hot. "Today." Probably today, realistically. But the sentiment stands. He hefts Blackhail and lurches forward again.

Volcica checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Volcica fails.

Rosalind subtly gives Elora and Triton a small smile.

Fortunately nothing fatal due to the angle and her armor, but a rain of arrows lands exactly where Volcica was standing.

Acantha is here, alongside Benny. He's at the frontline with her and is the only remaining constant in her life aside from her Patron. She had crouched down to talk to him quietly, taking one of his paws and patting it. Whatever she said it doesn't go beyond them. There is a smile to him as the diminuitive Countess rises and then gives a dip of her head to him. When she does that, Benny grows to about ten feet tall. He thumps his tail on the ground, rumbling the ground around them. "FOR FARHAVEN!" the Countess cries as she raises Icebreaker, that diamondplate club is ready to break the ice...as it were.

Volcica sets herself in front of Khanne and Mirk, brandishing that wicked spear. ready to defend, while the other shamans work with the spirits.

Magaen raises her sickle high, symbolic of the daily pass through their bramble-clotted holding, "Vultures at the ready!" A beat. "Archers! Ready...Launch!" The sky darkens as the coordinated sweep of Glacial Grove's arrows joins the arc toward the invading horde.

The front line of the legion buckles, withering under the blasts of lightning and the ferocity of the defenders. Thousands of shards are killed, blown apart, and a beholder is reduced to ash by the lightning storm, and a hulking ettin falls to dragon flame. Many of the shards scramble back, and cheers go up along the walls of Farhaven. Briefly. And then the ground is thundering as hundreds of hulking ogres with clubs made from trees are charging the walls, the arrow fall doing little to intimidate them. Indeed, a storm of arrows rises from the shards with little fear of it landing on allies at all.

((OOC: Everyone check luck at normal to see if you are targeted, success means you're fine, fail means you need to do a dexterity + dodge roll at hard to evade))

Mirk checks luck at normal. Mirk marginally fails.

Gwenna checks luck at normal. Gwenna is successful.

Rosalind checks luck at normal. Rosalind is successful.

Volcica checks luck at normal. Volcica is successful.

Brianna checks luck at normal. Brianna is successful.

Kace checks luck at normal. Kace is successful.

Deva checks luck at normal. Deva is successful.

Donella checks luck at normal. Donella marginally fails.

Lorenzo checks luck at normal. Lorenzo is successful.

Triton checks luck at normal. Triton is successful.

Acantha checks luck at normal. Acantha is successful.

Romulius checks luck at normal. Romulius is successful.

Khanne checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Khanne fails.

Mirk checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Mirk is successful.

Elora checks luck at normal. Elora marginally fails.

Donella checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Donella is successful.

Elora checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Elora is successful.

Elora checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Elora is successful.

Umbroise checks luck at normal. Umbroise fails.

Umbroise checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Umbroise is successful.

Charlemagne checks luck at normal. Charlemagne is successful.

There's a fair concentration of fire from the enemy upon the elemental summoned by Khanne, but it still stands. The ogre charge is emboldening the enemy, as they march forward again despite the horrific losses inflicted upon them.

((OOC: Round 2, 101 Victory Points total so far. Can do checks, again note if they are magical))

House Acheron has a couple of siege weapons brought with them, and they fire with all the others, trying to take down the flying beasts. Upon seeing the banners eating their way through the defenders, Umbroise considers it a moment. She nods along with Donella. "Destroy the banners!" she cries to her own archers. "Focus on them, my lovelies, and we might make it through this." The archers, having seen the banners eating people as well, quail for a bit, but then they focus their attention on the banners. They are shaken though, and it takes them a moment before their arrows find their aim. She eyes the siege ladders being raised, and gestures to some of the infantry she has on top of the walls. "Batter them with rocks, burning pitch, whatever you can! Knock those ladders down as they come up!" She then becomes a target, and she sees arrows raining upon them from the shards. She somehow manages to sidestep a few, however. She is still brandishing that one hairpin, and now she yanks the other one out of her hair too, narrowing her eyes fiercely. No longer is she the prim and proper lady she always comports herself to be. It's time to fight.

Triton growls as he noticed arrows falling around Elora and the rest of the command center. "Let's get some shields over the officers before we gotta start doing the thinkin' fer ourselves!?" The burly redhaired man sounds a little upset over that possibility, but then he is back to looking down at the oncoming ogre tsunami and shouting something that is lost in the noise. Just as well since it was probably not anything really astute.

Mirk checks mana and occult at hard. Mirk is successful.

Deva checks dexterity and archery at hard. Deva fails.

Romulius checks strength and huge wpn at hard. Romulius marginally fails.

Kace checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Kace is successful.

Triton checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Triton marginally fails.

Gwenna checks mana and empathy at hard. Gwenna fails.

Elora checks command and war at hard. Elora is successful.

Brianna checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Brianna is successful.

Lorenzo checks charm and leadership at hard. Lorenzo is successful.

Khanne checks dexterity and archery at hard. Khanne marginally fails.

Magaen checks command and war at hard. Magaen is successful.

Donella checks command and leadership at hard. Donella is successful.

Volcica checks mana and occult at hard. Volcica is successful.

Magaen checks luck at normal. Critical Success! Magaen is spectacularly successful.

Umbroise checks mana and occult at daunting. Umbroise fails.

Acantha checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Acantha is successful.

Elora checks luck at normal. Elora is successful.

[MAGIC] Fliers try to fight back, to swarm the dragon and use their sheer numbers, but the dragon swiftly veers aside. Mirk and the dragon wheel around, as he raises the staff once more, whispering to the winds. The winds swirl around him, fast and whipping up shards of ice and snow, before a whirlwind descends in his wake. It descends on those shards on the ground, glittering ice shards cutting through bodies and gale winds knocking them aside, creating openings for their forces to do more damage. The lightning elemental descends in its wake like a lightning bolt, striking down a shard that weathered the whirlwind on its feet. The dragon unleashes its breath, adding to the death and destruction.

Charlemagne checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Charlemagne marginally fails.

Rosalind checks strength and brawl at hard. Rosalind fails.

Deva checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Deva is successful.

Despite the terrible damage, Deva does not take a permanent wound.

Rosalind checks luck at normal. Rosalind is successful.

Umbroise checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Umbroise is successful.

Despite the terrible damage, Umbroise does not take a permanent wound.

Umbroise checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Umbroise is successful.

Umbroise remains capable of fighting.

Maybe it's her more dimmutive height that saves her, but when those arrows comes flying her way, Elora manages to duck by simply popping a squat. She just kind of half sits as the arrow whistles overhead before popping back up again. "Whew," she exhales. Eying the ogres, while the archers keep up their volley to keep the shards Over There, Elora taps her lip. "Cirstus, tell the cavalry to mount up with thick ropes. We might need to bolo those things when they get close enough." Cirstus nods and bolts off.

Lorenzo supports as best he can the soldiers he is near. He pauses near a group of them, pointing out potential soft targets for their arrows, doing his best to help them do their best. "Farhaven stands strong," he says to each man and woman, keeping up the spirits and confidence of the lines.

Donella watches the missiles loft toward the heavens and feels shadow pass over her face in a speckling as what light there is becomes dappled. "SHIELDS," she shouts and hoists one bearing the sigil of Frosthaven up. The wall protects her below as arrows bite deep into the aegis above, so that she and those nearby are left to look at one another. "Again! Get that barrel of oil ready and fling it! Concentrate fire where it lands. And make it COUNT!" she calls, up and helping to haul. The sights, the sounds, the percussion of battle is jarring. "Don't give ground! For Farhaven and Redrain! The NOrth! The North!"

[MAGIC] Volcica has never been a terribly great warrior, and so after that first hail of arrows, her stance shifts. The spear is brought infront of her, and the butt of it slammed down into the ground. She stands strong, confident-- and when she speaks, it's hardly more than a whisper, not meant for the ears of the living. Somehow, the Deathspeaker's voice carries, and the fallen begin to rise and rejoin the fight against the Shards.

Ogres, no one said anything about Ogres. Well no one said anything. Kace still remains behind the row of shields but is able to sneak one out and still decapitate... something. Long poles are great. She echoes her sisters and cousins cry of encouragment to help rally the troops, "For The North!"

[MAGIC] Gwenna gives Lorenzo a kiss on the cheek and then moves to climb up to a part of the ramparts where there aren't as many defenders - almost none really - that latter surely for a reason. The small weapon in her hand is held more tightly and she lifts it up, not to stab, but as though she were going to smash something with the handle; breaking their forces apart, perhaps. When she pulls the dagger down, though, there's an immediate realization that Something Is Not Going As Planned. The dagger drops out of her hand and is nearly lost, but as she falls to her knees from something unknown hitting her, she manages to touch the piece. There's a hard swallow and she stays there a few beats to catch her breath, wipe a tear, and try to get back up.

[MAGIC] Rosalind is still learning how to control her own magic. But the bright side? There's no craziness on others, so YAY! Downside? She starts running, not quite getting where she wants to be. What this leads to is---A screaming red head, trying to punch people as she goes.

Deva /crumbles/ to the ground amid the line of archers, crying out in pain. The bow clatters to the ground and she's dazed for a long moment. As she catches her breath, she looks around. /What/ hit her? She has no idea, but she's struggling back to her feet. With a gasp, she swipes the bow from the group and moves to steady herself again.

Khanne calls Water back after it is struck in what seems like a shower of abyssal spells and beholder magic, hoping to let it grow in strength again. She lifts her bow, dawnstone shining out towards the dark horde and looses arrow after arrow, trying to add to the volley of other Redrains fighting from the wall, even if the sheer number of foes to her arrows seems absurd. "To the last!!" She yells after Kace's call.

Brianna's muscles tense as she readies herself for the impending clash. Gripping her formidable battle axe with both hands, she raises it high above her head, the weapon catching the glint of the icy light left before hoarde and sea of black block out the light. Her eyes narrow, focused on the approaching abyss monsters. Her movements are deliberate, a dance with death as she calculates the perfect moment to unleash the fury of her swing. With a primal roar that echoes through the hoarde, descent of her axe, blade cuts through the air with a swift, controlled arc, leaving behind a trail of glimmering frost. As the weapon gains momentum, the chilling howl of the wind seems to harmonize with the deadly song of the swinging axe. Brianna, fierce, unyielding, and untamed. The axe, an extension of her will, becomes a harbinger of destruction as it hurtles towards the monstrous foes. Her stance is a symphony of power and grace, an ode to the warriors who came before her.

As the ogres thunder toward Brianna with earth-shaking steps, Brianna's eyes blaze with a defiant fire. Without hesitation, she propels herself forward, a force of nature charging headlong into the heart of the impending clash. Her breath mingles with the frigid air as she narrows the distance between herself and the oncoming onslaught.

"READY WEAPONS!"

Romulius calls to the defenders in front of the gate. Though Romulius looks around for a moment. "Why haven't they tried to scale the walls...?" Romulius questions. "HOLD THAT GATE!" he calls down below to the defenders, his eyes shifting to look back ahead, his blade trying to lift and slice one of those aerial beasts out of the air! but he misses, wildly. "Open fire on those orgers! Take them down!"

They are still dying and dying and dying. At least a score of ogres are put down, whether from lightning, dragon fire, a swarm of zombies slashing at their feet, or the massed archery, siege weapons and pikes of the defender, they are dying. But still they come on, some slamming the stones of the walls, some at the gates, and the shards come behind them, and the first ladders are up. The sort of losses would make any sane foe break, but shards are scrambling up the massed bodies of the dead coming on, and there's the beating of wings.

Thousands of flying demons are swooping in, timing their attack with the shards trying to reach the walls, as they fall upon the defenders, diving right into melee with claw and fang.

((OOC: Going to see if I can use check contest to just check everyone real quick for simplicity))

Charlemagne is still twitching from the arc of electricity that surged through him. The center of his training hard to find. He swings and scores a glancing blow that sets him off balance. Courage, man. Steady.

Apostate has called for a check of luck at normal.
TIE: Critical Success! Triton is spectacularly successful. Critical Success! Volcica is spectacularly successful.
Charlemagne is successful.
Brianna is successful.
Deva is successful.
Rosalind is successful.
TIE: Kace is successful. Romulius is successful.
Umbroise is successful.
TIE: Elora is successful. Lorenzo is successful.
TIE: Acantha marginally fails. Mirk marginally fails.
TIE: Gwenna marginally fails. Donella marginally fails.
TIE: Khanne fails. Magaen fails. Kalakh fails.

A sharp whistle pierces the air thanks to Elora's fingers in her mouth. There's the sound of a gate lifting slightly, just enough for a posse of Ravenseye's mounted units to gallop out, carving their way across the ground in an attempt to ride around the ogre's legs with sturdy rope. As they pull those ropes tighter and tighter, it might actually work. <that was the second missing paragraph, Apos>

Mirk checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Mirk is successful.

Donella checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Donella marginally fails.

Khanne checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Critical Success! Khanne is spectacularly successful.

Gwenna checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Gwenna is successful.

Magaen checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Magaen fails.

Whatever Umbroise tried to do, it didn't work. Something happens though, and she lets out an ear-wrenching scream of agony, but she miraculously remains standing, though she is definitely winded and badly wounded from whatever it was. She crouches on one knee, hairpins still clutched in her hands, and she bows her head for a moment, shaking it. Her skin seems to be smoldering, maybe darker than before, or something. It's hard to say what hit her exactly, but after a moment, she pushes herself to her feet, hairpins clutched in her hands. She launches herself at the nearest enemy, a little wild-eyed. She's badly, severely in pain, and she growls as she throws herself into combat in her nice steelsilk gown. It's really quite a miracle that she is even a live at all, if that's her only protection! The prim and proper lady is definitely gone, and she is going to fight to live, or die fighting. Weirdly, she manages not to get hit by anything as the demons come over the walls with claw and fang and wings.

Lorenzo of course keeps an eye on his wife, and when Gwenna steps away from him and falls, he cries out in wordless horror. He runs to her to help her back up. "Gwenna! I can't save you from your own magic," he murmurs urgently to her, his innate empathy coming through his voice. "We're better together," he tells her, his lips quirking into a momentary, slight smile, before he turns his head and looks towards the battlefield once again.

Warriors of the Northlands are famously known for their bravery and it holds here, as despite the demons landing, despite the ogres reaching the wall, despite the shards with their ladders, that the forces do not break. They hold and are still holding, though the legion comes on. More and more of them into an inferno of violence as their dead are stacked feet deep. The numbers begin to tell, as more and more Redrain defenders on the walls fall, and many are lifted screaming in the air by the demonic aerial assault, with just the dragon and elementals attempting to match them in flight.

((OOC: Round 3, Victory Point total is 161. Same checks at hard, note if you are using magic, and after the third time, it will start to potentially do damage, so for most would be the last round of it.))

Mirk checks mana and occult at hard. Mirk is successful.

Romulius checks strength and huge wpn at hard. Romulius is successful.

Kace checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Kace fails.

Triton checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Triton is successful.

Brianna checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Brianna marginally fails.

Gwenna checks mana and occult at hard. Gwenna is successful.

Rosalind checks dexterity and archery at hard. Rosalind is successful.

Elora checks command and war at hard. Elora is successful.

Charlemagne checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Charlemagne fails.

Donella checks command and leadership at hard. Donella fails.

Magaen checks command and war at hard. Magaen is successful.

Deva checks dexterity and archery at hard. Deva marginally fails.

Acantha checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Acantha is successful.

Donella says, "You think that giant speak-hole is mean? You should have met my grandfather!" Donella grunts as she readies helps thump another tub of arrows into place by the wall. "And you WILL if you don't drop some of those flying fucks! Come on! You have this!" In the corner of her eye, she has seen Gwenna in a high place fold in obvious pain, though she cannot see the cause. And Deva, too, dropping so she says, "I'll come back! Keep firing!" she says runs, through no grace of her own narrowing missing being plucked off by one of the flappy screeching demons and dropped to her death. But she does end up closer to her sister in law when the next danger comes."

Khanne checks mana and occult at hard. Khanne marginally fails.

Volcica checks mana and occult at hard. Volcica marginally fails.

Lorenzo checks charm and leadership at hard. Lorenzo is successful.

Triton rushes the nearest crenels where a ladder can be seen. "On the ladders! Push them off. No shards get over!" Then his mighty fist is smashing into a surprised face and sending the enemy tumbling backward. A moment later his armored hands are pushing at the ladder, trying to topple it sideways. "Help me...repel boarders!" Yeah, he has no seafaring background.

"LOOK! They send their birds and beasts to slay us! They will not breach this wall!" Romulius calls out, trying to keep morale as his blade lifts and /swings/, trying to chop one of those winged demons out of the air. His head turning as ladders are set upon the wall! "Take those ladders off of this wall! Let them climb over each other!" He tries to swing his blade at another of those aerial monsters.

Somewhat recovered from whatever hit her previously, Deva reaches beck for arroes and finds... her quiver empty. She needs to get more! She runs as fast as she can to stock back up. This is not going especially well for her specifically, but she's trying.

Kace checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Kace fails.

Kace has suffered a serious wound!

Kace checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Kace is successful.

Kace remains capable of fighting.

[MAGIC] As the legion begins to mount the walls, Mirk shifts to a more defensive role. The dragon flies high, then dive bombs directly down. Mirk unleashes a blast of wind from his staff, of such cold and ferocity that ice shards form and fall with the screaming winds. It's angled to blow down along the walls, missing the defenders close enough for them to feel a touch of that cold pass over them, but hitting the ladders and the shards climbing on them full force. The dragon strafes overhead, then, tearing apart and barreling through winged monstrosities that were attempting to swoop down on the defenders. The lightning elemental descends on a ladder, its thunder shattering it and arcs of electricity traveling along the wooden surface.

Donella checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Donella is successful.

Despite the terrible damage, Donella does not take a permanent wound.

Donella checks 'unconsciousness save' at hard. Botch! Donella fails completely.

Donella is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Magaen continues the call for launch upon launch of arrows, setting the cadence, holding that pace even as she looks to see that her injured house sword, Charlemagne, stands yet. Fights yet.

Charlemagne checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Charlemagne is successful.

Despite the terrible damage, Charlemagne does not take a permanent wound.

Charlemagne checks 'unconsciousness save' at hard. Charlemagne fails.

Charlemagne is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

[MAGIC] Gwenna does something she would never do in polite company, or any company really - she spits. But it's just in front of her and she quickly looks up to Lorenzo with apology, probably both for the spitting and not being good at the magic thing. "I know...I'm...sorry," she says and sounds genuine. She looks to the battlefield with him and something lights in her. Maybe it's Lorenzo by her side, or just that grim determination she's had since being a child. A child of Farhaven who got knocked down and always got back up. She picks up that dagger and and squeeze it hard before turning her sight to the field again. She wraps her left hand over the right one and brings the piece down in the air as though to smash the horde climbing the walls of the castle.

Rosalind is quick to recover for now. She has a shield now! And it lets off awesome flickers of light. Rosa gathers another arrow, preparing it. Seeing Donella fall, her lips thin. Her eyes swiftly scan the throngs of people, looking for her brother and sister. Seeing them both, she exhales relievedly and sends that arrow flying, watching whatever it hits die.

Team Beaver is beating ass and taking names! Or at least they are doing their best to. Acantha has been brutalizing the opposing demons with the diamondplate ball of Icebreaker and Benny has been sending demons flying with big swats from his paws and tail whips. "If you go any bigger and I'll have to just take off through the horde with you to trample some!" she calls to Benny.

Charlemagne, signed warrior of the stand at Farhaven swings his fell blade and it ... wedges in a seam between the tight-fitted stones of Farhaven's keep. If there is a tale of the day, Charlemagne will be glad to have the skalds gloss over his moments. He yanks the blade free and wrenches a muscle in his back. It is at least gratifying that insult did not meet injury. Yet.

Umbroise checks mana and occult at daunting. Umbroise fails.

Amidst the chaos on the towering walls of Farhaven, the battle rages unabated. Brianna, undeterred by the fierce onslaught, presses forward with unwavering determination. The clash of weapons and the roars of monsters create a cacophony of war that echoes through the icy air. As Brianna moves through the tumult, a sudden realization strikes her, a critical absence in the frenzied melee. With a decisive resolve, Brianna positions herself as a bulwark against the encroaching darkness, ensuring that the fallen defenders are not left unguarded. Her movements are a dance of lethal efficiency, always mindful of the ebb and flow of the battle. As her comrades rush to aid the injured, Brianna stands sentinel, a guardian of the fallen.

Umbroise checks 'death save' at easy. Umbroise is successful.

Umbroise remains alive, but close to death.

Umbroise is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Umbroise checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Umbroise fails.

Umbroise has suffered a serious wound!

Whatever Kace was doing fighting blindly through the shields is not working, something grabs her scythe and pulls her foward and bites off some of her shoulder. Its grim, she screams. Its ugly but she'll live. "Urgh! Come on, kill them! For the North!", she rallies, so she wont cry.

Elora whistles sharply again, eyes looking up into the sky. "JOSSE!" she bellows. Then it's right back to the battle at hand. Her soldiers are well trained, and she guides them effectively. Ladders are shoved off parapets, archers continue to mow through the approaching shards. "Alchemical fire," she says coolly, and her words send another runner off. Somehow, there's thin clay bowls of alchemical fire. They're lit and then dropped off the parapets. Have a little fire, people. Welcome to the North.

Lorenzo's reply to Gwenna is completely supportive, not scolding at all, not even in jest. "You're amazing. We just have to work together to see this through. All of us." And that means all of the men and women fighting here, the dragons and spirits, everyone fighting for Farhaven right now. Things feel difficult, but he rallies everyone within the sound of his voice to keep their spirits up.

The fight is brutal, but Farhaven is holding. Archers are taking down the flying demons by the hundreds, most rallying to Donella's cries. Which does make her a target, as one shard suddenly levitates and unleashes a bolt of dark light at her, which explodes. The mage shard is promptly take down by half a hundred arrows, but the Princess-Consort of Farhaven is down and in dire straits. Nor is she alone. An ogre brutally clubs Charlemagne, and a pack of demons fall upon Kace and Umbroise, savaging them.

There's a thousand similar scenes, but the defenders of Farhaven fight on, and many of the beholders are down, along what must be tens of thousands of shards. There's a ramp up the walls now just by the bodies alone.

((OOC NPC Turn, will be a moment and then luck checks for any last poses before))

Apostate has called for a check of luck at normal.
Critical Success! Elora is spectacularly successful.
Lorenzo is successful.
Charlemagne is successful.
Deva is successful.
Mirk is successful.
TIE: Kace is successful. Magaen is successful. Acantha is successful.
TIE: Volcica is successful. Umbroise is successful.
Donella is successful.
TIE: Khanne marginally fails. Triton marginally fails. Brianna marginally fails.
Gwenna marginally fails.
Kalakh fails.
Rosalind fails.
Botch! Romulius fails completely.

[MAGIC] Still giving water a break, Khanne tries a different tactic. Lifting a hand before her, palm facing the horde, her eyes look intently to the ground, not at the frontline, but a little bit further back. "Earth..." she whispers, trying to feel the energy of the land within her, wubtly wiggling her fingers trying to make the earth literally move under the feet of the shards and demons. She envisions the ground opening and perhaps swallowing up a few, but not much seems to happen, if anything at all. Lowering her hand and her head, Khanne tries to shake it off, breathing in again.

Romulius checks dexterity and dodge at daunting. Romulius is successful.

Rosalind checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Rosalind fails.

Kalakh checks 'death save' at normal. Kalakh marginally fails.

Kalakh has died.

Gwenna checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Gwenna is successful.

Triton checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Triton fails.

Khanne checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Khanne is successful.

Donella is having the worst nap of her life. And you were there, and you, and you... IF she were conscious. Look at that, even in her swoon her middle finger looks like it's up...

Rosalind checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Botch! Rosalind fails completely.

Rosalind is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

It's just bad luck for Rosalind. The terrible kind of luck that happens in war. A falling ogre flails and knocks loose a gigantic part of the wall that promptly falls on her. She's alive but only just.

Brianna checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Brianna is successful.

And still they come on. The enemy is making a push to try to overwhelm the defenders. More of the flying demons, but thinner now, their ranks having been winnowed by the defenders. A handful of beholders are trying to sweep the walls with their beanms, but the defenders are pouring fire on them, and infantry of House Redrain are proving their valor by pressing forward, the pike trying to take beholders in the air.

The first gates are crushed under the effort of surviving ogres, but it's just another funnel. The top walls have already been breached by the thousands upon thousands of corpses providing a ramp for shards to pour in, which is met by shield walls of Northlanders.

((OOC: Round 4: Victory Points 227. Same checks again at hard, save for the unconscious. Sorry, sleepers.))

Mirk checks mana and occult at hard. Mirk is successful.

Mirk drops a delicately twisted stygian chain bearing a locket etched with mountains embracing a dragonweep ocean.

Deva checks dexterity and archery at hard. Critical Success! Deva is spectacularly successful.

Kace checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Kace is successful.

Magaen checks command and war at hard. Magaen is successful.

Elora checks command and war at hard. Elora is successful.

Lorenzo checks charm and leadership at hard. Lorenzo fails.

Khanne checks mana and occult at hard. Khanne marginally fails.

Triton checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Triton is successful.

A falcon's wings flap loudly, and one lands on Elora's gauntleted hand. "What do you see?" she asks, leaning in to bump his beak with her nose. There's some ruffling and cries, and ... for one odd moment, her lips spread into a grin. "That is -fantastic- news," she crows softly. "Get back out there, dearest. Thank you." She whirls around and raises her voice. "FARHAVEN!" she yells. "FARHAVEN, THE ENEMY IS BUCKLING! KEEP PUSHING THEM UNTIL THEY RUN!. Oop." Her voice drops as she grabs onto Triton's jerkin and yanks him backwards to get him out of the way of something sharp and stabby. "Don't you die on me, too," she mumurs, voice breaking a bit. "I forbid it. Don't you do that to me." And then she inhales looking back to her soldiers. "Pikes, clear the ramps," she yells.

Charlemagne checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Charlemagne is successful.

Gwenna checks mana and occult at hard. Gwenna is successful.

Volcica checks mana and occult at hard. Volcica is successful.

Brianna checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Brianna is successful.

Acantha checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Acantha fails.

Romulius checks strength and huge wpn at hard. Romulius is successful.

Beholders. Dire masonry. Ogre clubs. The battle ebbs and flows and ... they're doing it. Farhaven's forces are standing. And Charlemagne staggers on, gets a face full of hnnngh "Phhbbtt phhhbbt!!" He spits. "Gods, I don't want to know what that was. Magaen!!" He grimaces and lifts Blackhail, staggering back into the fray, teeth bared.

Triton climbs to his feet, or rebalances on them, and lumbers forward again to SMASH his caestus into an enemy head, then another and ...well, and so on. His roarr is clearly aub=dible and the men next to him are fighting with power as well, hearing Elora's call and swinging andstabbing in a madness much like their Lord's. The line pushes at the wall-climbers and maybe it is not coincidence they clear the area around the fallen Rosa of any interlopers.

[MAGIC] Mirk is flagging. He's been calling wind and ice with the best of them - at least in the Compact, and its novice mages and adepts - but he has limits. He looks paler than normal, his breath an explosion of mist. His lips are tinged blue. It's then he reaches for the locket, entrusted to him by Donella. A precious gift, and one he promised he'd use in a certain way. He calls out to the storms, his voice ringingly loud, and winds pick up. A storm cloud begins forming overhead. It's driving ice into the shards, into the armies, even as the dragon continues to rip apart anything that dares to attempt to come for the defenders of the wall - at least in the small section they're able to cover. It's not enough, but it's something. The lightning elemental dances in the storm cloud forming overhead, bringing down lightning strikes on Mirk's behalf.

It has taken her some time. Volcica is chanting, praying, commanding in that strange, whispering language. Her voice scratches as it calls, commanding the dead to rise. Arvani and shards obey her, corpses pushing to their feet to fight against the Eater's hordes. Finally, slowly, one Ogre lumbers up as well. Pushing back. Fighting back. Volcica looks pale, drawn. Tired.

"Hold the line!" Those winged demons are coming in hot and that ramp of corpses is leading a good number of the shards towards the defenders upon the wall! "Hold the line!" Romulius calls, his swordbrandished as he joins the shield wall, swinging his blade against the oncoming horde of the shards that approach! A swing is thrown, an elbow is thrown to knock another down to the ground. "Hold!" He yells. "Make them pay for every inch they gain!!"

Triton climbs to his feet, or rebalances on them, and lumbers forward again to SMASH his caestus into an enemy head, then another and ...well, and so on. His roar is clearly audible and the men next to him are fighting with power as well, hearing Elora's call and swinging and vstabbing in a madness much like their Lord's. The line pushes at the wall-climbers and maybe it is not coincidence they clear the area around the fallen Rosa of any interlopers.

Kace manages to somehow kick off the hoards of demons that landed upon her. Long handled weapons are not that great! She growls and starts kicking ass, taking names and well.. decapitating. What else do you do with a scythe? Really. No really. What else?

[MAGIC] Gwenna manages a bit of a laugh and bobs her head to Lorenzo. "You're right, and I feel stronger with you here. Thank you," she says in a quick, if tender, moment while they can manage it. There is madness all around them - around everyone. In the chaos it's hard to know who still lives, who has fallen, and what side of history they may end up on. For now, though, on the rampart, the Redrain draws her dagger back up into the air, high above her head. While she is showing signs of these efforts, her husband beside her does appear to be giving her a last gasp of strength. She pulls that dagger back down with a soft 'whoosh' of sound toward the hordes along the walls. "Break," is murmured a few times as she watches.

Lorenzo stays close alongside Gwenna, doing his best to encourage the men and women on the line. His movement may attract attention, but he can only do his best, his energy put entirely towards bolstering the lines against this onslaught.

AGIC} Khanne tries again, trying to make the earth rumble beneath the shards. It seems to be to no avail. A discouraged crease begins to show on her brow as she sees so many of her friends lying incapacitated nearby. Shaking her head, she says, "no! We are Halfshav! Half Savage, Half Hero! We are Redrain, TO the Last! We will not falter! We will not let you win!" She is not an overly emotional person, at least in public, but she has had a lot on her mind today that has pulled at her heartstrings, and tears start to slide down her cheeks, making some of the red paint, three lines down her right side, run. "Hope will not be lost!" She pauses, takes a breath, lifts her bow into the air and shouts as loud as she can, "FOR ARVUM! REDRAIN, FIGHT!"

Farhaven is holding. The ogres storming the walls are being pushed back, and most of the demonic swooping fliers are down. The beholders are sweeping time and again, but archers keep pouring fire on them, and they are gradually dropping back, forced to be more and more cautious as the beasts are killed. The shards attempt to make up for it with raw numbers, and quantity is a quality in itself, as thousands upon thousands still run up the ledges, and most shards are more than a match for any soldier. But Redrain has training, experience, and valor. And it has its heroes.

((Allowing the last poses for that round before the luck checks of the enemy offensive))

Deva has restocked her supply of arrows and gotten back into her place withint he line of archers. Her gaze scans the field and she sees a shard heading for Lorenzo and Gwenna. Before the thing can swing at Lorenzo, she sinks an arrow directly between its... Eyes. Those were probably eyes once.

Magaen's check for Charlemagne lasted just long enough to see the house's greatsword get stuck in the wall. Her probably unnoticed but definitely there eyeroll away put her focus back on the approaching enemy. "Pikes! Ready! Archers! Launch!" Within their spray of arrows, the pikes take up a position to which they are not well-suited, angled down to the defense of the wall from the climbers.

Apostate has called for a check of luck at normal.
TIE: Elora is successful. Lorenzo is successful.
Mirk is successful.
TIE: Triton is successful. Charlemagne is successful.
Magaen is successful.
TIE: Deva is successful. Romulius is successful.
TIE: Umbroise is successful. Acantha is successful.
Kalakh is successful.
Donella is successful.
Kace marginally fails.
Khanne fails.
TIE: Volcica fails. Brianna fails. Rosalind fails.
Botch! Gwenna fails completely.

Kace checks strength and dodge at normal. Kace fails.

Brianna checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Brianna is successful.

Gwenna checks dexterity and dodge at daunting. Gwenna marginally fails.

Triton continues to rip and punch and slap his metal paws into shard heads, the red of splattering blood coating him again and again, his eyes wilder and snarl fiercer with every death. There is no more soace between enemies, now. They are legion and he is tireless, killing and killing without pause, drawing the troops around him toward the wall's edge, obviously determined to hold or die.

Acantha is getting overwhelmed in the fight, that means she's being sloppy and she's about to get smashed when Benny swings around and takes the hit for her. "BENNY!" she cries. He's a tank. And it just makes him angry. The beaver grows, taking on more mass and height until he's about as tall as a house. HULK Benny doesn't like when people try to stab or maim Acantha.

A gut-wrenching cry escapes Brianna's lips as she witnesses the harrowing scene unfold before her. Friends and family, comrades in arms, lie fallen on the icy ground. Brianna charges towards the towering ogre. Her grip on the axe tightens, and her every step is fueled by a burning desire for retribution. Seeking to get to Rosa, Brianna brings her axe crashing down upon the ogre. The blade bites into the creature's thick hide, a visceral response to the anguish that courses through her veins. As calls to hold the wall echo through the chaos, Brianna stands over Rosa's fallen form. The ogre reaching to slash at her again, she's able to dodge and roll. Seeking to find her way back to pull Rosalind to safety.

Khanne checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Khanne is successful.

Volcica checks dexterity and dodge at hard. Volcica fails.

It's hand to hand on the parapets, and Elora isn't great with that sort of thing. So she retreats down the stone floor a ways, allowing her to observe from a better. She motions and three Ravenseye archers sprint to where Rosalind is, getting ready to drag her "out of danger" and towards the medic tents just inside the walls. "I want those ramps cleared! Set the dead Shards on Fire. Let the living stomp up the flaming backs of their bretheren. "Swords out!"

Kace checks 'death save' at easy. Kace marginally fails.

Kace has died.

Volcica checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Critical Success! Volcica is spectacularly successful.

Despite the terrible damage, Volcica does not take a permanent wound.

Volcica checks 'unconsciousness save' at normal. Botch! Volcica fails completely.

Volcica is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Umbroise lies under a pile of demons, getting savaged gruesomely.


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The intensity of the assault is culminating, with more and more shards pouring into the city in a mad attempt to overwhelm the defenders. Still, they hold. A beholder is sweeping in, ignoring arrow fire as it's driven by Azazel on a mission to fly in and decapitate the leadership of House Redrain. Arrows land by the dozen into it, but it continues a suicidal run in, its blasts concentrated at the royals of Farhaven... with Kace being caught square in its blast. The beholder goes down immediately after, but Princess Kace Redrain takes the full blast for the other royals.

At the death of the beholder, a roar goes up from the Farhaven defenders, and most are now on the attack, pushing into the horde, which for the first time in the battle is beginning to give ground.

The endless swarms of shard look uncertain. Hesitating.

((Round 5: Victory Point Total 294, rolls at hard again.))
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Deva checks dexterity and archery at hard. Deva is successful.

The intensity of the assault is culminating, with more and more shards pouring into the city in a mad attempt to overwhelm the defenders. Still, they hold. A beholder is sweeping in, ignoring arrow fire as it's driven by Azazel on a mission to fly in and decapitate the leadership of House Redrain. Arrows land by the dozen into it, but it continues a suicidal run in, its blasts concentrated at the royals of Farhaven... with Kace being caught square in its blast. The beholder goes down immediately after, but Princess Kace Redrain takes the full blast for the other royals.

At the death of the beholder, a roar goes up from the Farhaven defenders, and most are now on the attack, pushing into the horde, which for the first time in the battle is beginning to give ground.

The endless swarms of shard look uncertain. Hesitating.

((Round 5: Victory Point Total 294, rolls at hard again.))

Romulius checks strength and huge wpn at hard. Romulius fails.

Triton checks dexterity and brawl at hard. Triton is successful.

Elora checks command and war at hard. Elora marginally fails.

Mirk checks mana and occult at hard. Mirk is successful.

Charlemagne checks dexterity and huge wpn at hard. Charlemagne is successful.

Magaen checks command and war at hard. Botch! Magaen fails completely.

Lorenzo checks charm and leadership at hard. Lorenzo fails.

Mirk checks mana at hard. Mirk is successful.

Khanne checks mana at hard. Critical Success! Khanne is spectacularly successful.

Brianna checks dexterity and medium wpn at hard. Brianna is successful.

Even competent generals get distracted sometimes. Watching the bolt from the Beholder slam into Kace, her eyes widen. It takes a second for her to snap back to reality. That second costs her, however, and she is just a little too late to make a call. Three of her soldiers go down, and something cold settles on Elora's features. "They're breaking! Keep pushing!" she barks, her voice snapping through the air.

Gwenna checks charm and leadership at hard. Gwenna is successful.

Acantha checks command and leadership at hard. Acantha is successful.

Triton charges an attacker and slams it into the stone of a merlon, his hands coming up to shove the head back a second, then a third time, the immense strength of the man finally splitting the skull and crushing the head. The body drops as the Ravenseye Lord spins toward the Rosa Rescue Squad and rakes his claws across a nearby shardhead, then shoulder-blocks another figure over the wall. Wwen Elora yells her rlly, he roars reinforcement as he rushes at yet another hapless enemy.

Romulius checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Romulius is successful.

Despite the terrible damage, Romulius does not take a permanent wound.

Lorenzo checks 'permanent wound save' at hard. Lorenzo is marginally successful.

Despite the terrible damage, Lorenzo does not take a permanent wound.

Lorenzo checks 'unconsciousness save' at easy. Lorenzo is successful.

Lorenzo remains capable of fighting.

Triton whirls again, chest heaving and then again, eyes glaring...but they are pulling away. The stone beneath his feet is blood and bodies and stone, but he and the troops around him hold that landscape. Farhaven stands. Then blight blues eyes fall on the empty place where Rosa had fallen, then he sees Elora, and then he staggers toward her. As he closes, he wonders in a raspy, dry voice, "You...are unharmed? Rosa...?"

Rosalind is still unconscious. Covered in stone, dirt, dust, and blood. Her hair matted to her head. But if she were conscious, Triton would be getting a thumbs up.

Deva presses forward, releasing more and more arrows until she's out again. But this time, she manages to pause, see the enemy... falling back? She rocks back on her heels and looks around, a little dazed, a little hopeful.

Donella continues to lay there in the blood, and mud, with rain splatter from the magical storms smacking her in the face, and shattering ice chips melting over the heap she presents, in a perpetual bruised state of flipping off the Devourer's forces littering the lawn. Only the slight movement behind her eyelids and the puffs of breath from her lips to show she lives.

Umbroise wakes up.

Rosalind wakes up.

Donella wakes up.

Lorenzo continues encouraging the men and women on the line, keeping close eye on Gwenna to make sure she stays save. At some point, he is targeted by a wave of arrows, but by some (unseen, irrational) luck, he is able to dodge away and escape unscathed.

With Rosa cradled in the shelter of her protective stance, Brianna settles into another powerful swing of her axe. Her eyes blaze with a fierce determination as she bellows a warning to any who dare approach, her voice cutting through the chaos of battle like a clarion call. The fallen may rest, but Brianna stands as a defiant sentinel, her unwavering resolve etched in every line of her frost-kissed features.

Volcica wakes up.

Kalakh has returned to life.

"Get those bastards off this wall!" Romulius calls out, the Knight of Fathoms swings his blade like a man possessed, though as the endless swarms of shard start to hold, the enemy loses ground. For a moment, Romulius looks past all the blood and death to see the enemy looking....scared. For a long moment, Romulius is just...staring, his blade lowered. "...we....we won." He looks around, his chest rising and falling underneath damaged armor. He looks around for a moment...until...

"Victory."A breath. "Victory."

"FARHAVEN! THEY RUN!"

Acantha is trying to make sure that Benny doesn't go on the warpath without her being behind him. Or riding his shoulders into battle! She is making sure that the soldiers around her rally. "Beat them back!" she bellows.

The magic may have worked, but such things do take their toll in all sorts of different ways. There are hints of a smile at the corners of Gwenna's mouth as she listens to Lorenzo encouraging the troops, but whatever energy she had for workings is spent. There's so much going on around them still - people falling, but also their enemy. People of the Northlands standing against a sweeping darkness and fighting back, to their last breath. To the last, indeed. She manages to get back on her feet and scream, "This is Farhaven! We will not yield!" She has to take a couple of steps back to keep her balance and see the arrows coming for Lorenzo. Her eyes widen but before she can even scream, he dodges every last one.

Umbroise is buried somewhere beneath a pile of demons, some of them she killed herself. Maybe no one even knows she's under there, but there might be a bit of bloody steelsilk, glittering with shards of ice, and a dainty slipper peeking out from beneath all those demon bodies. She does start to wake up a little, and tries to shove them off, but they are really heavy.

Elora sags into Triton, relief written plainly on her features. "You're alright," she whispers, pressing her brow to his. "You didn't die." For someone who has had so much death in her life over such a little bit of time, a widow, then suddenly an orphan without even siblings to call her own... "Thank the Gods you're alive." She looks down the stairs. "They took her to the medic tent. I need to get there now."

Triton nods and begins staggering toward the tent with Elora. Likely some of the blood on him is his own, but all the fleshy things are not. A good battle.

It was a bad call, bringing the pikes in like that. Untrained for the defense of this wall. And Magaen is too stubborn to call them back. Or too slow. She has her focus on rhythm of the archers, but the pattern starts to break with the demonic horde now climbing their dead to reach them. By the time she notices the error of the pikes, the formation has broken beyond her ability to rally.

[MAGIC] Apparently, sometimes, passionate emotion is enough to ignite the fire within a person, giving them just enough fuel to push them past whatever obstacle they might be coming up against. For Khanne, that obstacle was her attempts at working her earth magic and the passion is her hope for her people, her lands, for the future generations of all of them. When she last cried out, "FOR ARVUM! REDRAIN, FIGHT!" she meant it. Beckoning water near, she whispers softly, her eyes fierce as she eyes the hordes. Raising up her hands, she sends Water up into the sky, which just so happens to create a barricade in front of Magaen who was about to be the target of something nasty. Up and up water goes, the tumbling swirling ball of waves seeming to grow as Khanne's hand raise higher. When it meets that overhanging cloud, the crowd grows darker yet, spraking with light as thunder begins to roll drowning out the sound of the shards and demons below. She yells, "WE SHALL PREVAIL!" Then, not with a clap this time, but a swift lowering of her hands from up high to her sides, she screams out in complete fury. The sky seems to open up, pouring down an unbelievable amount of rain over the shards as lightning bolt after lightning bolt comes crashing down.

[MAGIC] Mirk is nearing his limits. But he came to this battle with the intention of going all in. Nothing held back. Nothing in reserve. So now, he reaches deep, calling to the storms one more time. As the army begins to rout, the stormclouds are rolling after them, snow and lightning falling to the ground. In the middle of the elemental fury, Mirk and his dragon are flying after them, unleashing dragon's breath and arrows and a certain helpful lightning elemental upon retreating shards. No matter how powerful a dragon might be, or what magic Mirk might have at his command, they cannot kill them all, but any of Azazel's forces that survive will be their enemy someday, and as many as possible are ended here and now.

Charlemagne staggers towards Magaen, laying about himself with Blackhail, a trail of limbs and blood behind him. Singed, sooty, and grim-faced he carves a way to Magaen, only to see a swarm of shards. "Magaen!" he howls and surges forward, met by a wall of water from Khanne fury storming around him. Terrible claws and teeth and shapes that Should Not Be wash past him swept by rain and stunned by thunder. He slips on the wet cobbles, staggering towards Magaen. "Magaen!" he calls again, reaching her side soaking wet and smeared with soot and blood in runnels down his face and armor.

And they break. Slowly at first, the front ogres and shards backing away under the onslaught. Then all at once. The forces turning back and even fleeing, with banners of Azazel being dropped with screamed protestations from the mouths left on the ground before the banners disintegrate to ash. The forces are retreating, and as they break, Redrain forces push forward, cutting them down while lightning falls upon the enemy, and a dragon and spirits unleash upon them.

There's a thick carpet of dead shards left for miles and miles. At least a hundred thousand of Azazel's legion has been cut down, and the enemy was decisively broken at Farhaven.

Azazel's legion will regroup and push south again. It will take time, but it will do so.

But not through Farhaven. Farhaven is too much, and Azazel, the Eater of Stories, will leave it be. Farhaven survives.

Throughout the Northlands, tens of thousands of men, women and children are on the roads of the Northlands. Slow travel through the Northlands and into the Crownlands, and Azazel's forces would have run them down. All of them. But Farhaven stands, and there will be no more dead children in the snows. Not today. Not while House Redrain holds the North.

Mirk is overheard praising Khanne.

Donella groans as color returns to her face and she blinks several times, the view from the side to the miracles taking place at close range enough to make her doubt that she is, in fact, awake. So for the space of a breath or two, she looks on with a stoics wonder. But then there is the pain. She's not even sure where all it hurts, only that it does. People around her celebrate, clasp one another, hold their injured and mourn their dead. And Donella, by herself in this whir of elation, weeps tears of joy and relief. Today, she is a Northerner.

Lorenzo is a little surprised to have survived without a scratch. He looks up at Gwenna and smiles, genuine relief that they both made it through, and happiness that they defended Farhaven as well as they all did.

Charlemagne snerks awake, drenched and blood, sooty and spent. "Hnnngh. I had a dream we won. Did we win?"

Elora slips free of Triton finally and gets ready to go to her other job: post battle surgeon. The woman is a Master Healer, after all. "I'm going to take a very hot, very long bath tonight," she says almost primly to her husband. "Just so you know." And she walks towards the medical tents.

For a moment, Romulius just...sits down.

He's breathing hard. He's bleeding a little bit everywhere. He's alive, and managed to avoid a permanent, life-altering injury. He looks ahead towards the fleeing darkness. "Never while I breathe." He coughs up some blood, and he shakes his head. He looks around. At Elora. At Khanne. At Brianna. At Triton, Lorenzo, Magaen. At Gwenna. At those who fell. Somehow...someway?

They won.

A loud groan can be heard from the healers tent. A copper haired head pops out, and Rosalind groggily calls out,"Is it over?" Her face is streaked in dirt and sweat and blood. Likely some scrapes and bruises.

Triton watches Elora stride off to work and wonders, "Why? We gonna be busy..." Sighing and shaking his head, he wipes some of the drying shard debris from his face and moves to help a staggering soldier get to the medics.

A pile of demons starts to move and shift. Eventually, an Umbroise squirms her way out from underneath it, looking battered and bruised, and scratched. It's really a wonder she's alive at all. Oddly, there are some shards of ice on her clothing, which she brushes off. She reaches under the demons and feels around with her hand for a moment, and finds a hairpin. Then she drags herself over to the medics. "Did we win?" she asks, looking around dazedly. Her usually perfect hair is a mess. There is blood and scars all over her. She might be bleeding from a gaping wound in her side, and her left shoulder might be broken or out of socket. She looks about as messy as a person can look, and still be alive. But none of the wounds look permanent. But there is a lot of blood on her beautiful steelsilk gown, which is probably what saved her in the end.

Elora pauses on her way towards the tents when she sees Romulius. Her feet immediately head his way. "We won," she agrees, crouching before the prince. "Your Highness, you look a little worse for wear," she says in her naturally soft spoken voice. Her expression is soft and gentle, her manner warm in a way that might be relaxing. "Would you allow me to attend to you?"

"FUCK YES!" Acantha declares in an eloquent bellow to those surrounding her when the shards start to break. She still keeps going after those that linger and Benny swats more than a few onto the other side of whatever is awaiting them at their retreat point. When the tide is stemmed, there is a look up to the biggest beaver and she raises her hands up to him, "Alright, up high." she whispers. With that Benny scoops up the Clearlake Countess and gets a big squeeze from her. They lived! For now at least.

Triton hears a familiar voice over the din and yells, "Rosa! Enjoy yer damn nap? We slapped them alla way back to teir mothers!"

Rosalind mumbles at Triton,"Your voice is loud. Shhhh.." She tries, but knows it's pointless. Her steps are a bit unsteady, but she goes to try and help those that need it, even though she's probably one of those that needs it.

As the horde of abyss monsters retreats, their haunting screams echoing through the cold night air, Brianna seizes the moment of reprieve. With her axe held high over her head, she unleashes a triumphant cry that pierces through the remnants of chaos. As the echoes of her battle cry fade, a heavy weariness settles upon Brianna. The toll of the fight, the fallen comrades, and the intensity of the moment weigh heavily on her shoulders. With a deep exhale, she slumps against the icy wall, the cold seeping through her armor. She catches her breath, a gentle kick towards Rosalind Looking down the relief floods through her, and a weary smile graces Brianna's face. "Let's get you a drink Rosa."

Magaen eventually crawls out of the pile of Glacial Grove soldiers who swarmed around her when that wall of water rushed up out of nowhere. She crawls out to the cheers, which shift a scowl and a ready-thrashing of curses into laughter. She even finds Charlemagne, eventually.

Rosalind grins at Brianna, her face tired. "Don't have to tell me twice. I have to make sure my family is good, then I'm good."

After the storms quiet down or run after to lighting bolt zap some retreating shards in the distance, Khanne lets out a hige breath, suddenly exhausted, shoulders slumped. Noting Donella nearby, she goes to her and stoops down. "Donella?" She places a hand upon the High Lady's shoulder. "Farhaven stands, Donella."

And just like that, it seems they have survived. The Northlands have survived. Gwenna kneels back down and seems content to just watch the retreat for a little bit before the inevitabilities of the aftermath need to be face.

Kalakh wakes up.

Charlemagne wakes up.


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There's a lack of good news in the Compact currently. Particularly not in the horror stories told by refugees fleeing by the thousands into Arx. Death has been the one constant companion on the roads from every part of Arvum. The Northlands were more grim than most- dangerous at the best of times, and the Knights of Solace desperately trying to keep some measure of safety for the refugees trying to reach Arx.

And Azazel's legion marched on.

It was grimly assumed by much of the peerage looking at war strategy that the refugees in the Northlands were a lost cause, and more than a few had counseled pulling back to Arx and cutting their losses. But House Redrain called its banners, and made a stand at Farhaven, fighting in the same manner that gave birth to House Redrain under Queen Valeria over a thousand years ago, facing a demonic horde once more.

And once more, it emerged victorious.

Farhaven still stands, and while the fight was costly, including the death of Redrain nobility such as Princess Kace Redrain, the Northlands held. The legion attacking Farhaven was decisively defeated, and driven back. While Azazel's forces are far from destroyed, and certain to regroup and continue their march south, Farhaven stands strong.

The refugees survive, and should Arx survive as well, future generations will tell of the Northlands and House Redrain, and how it does not yield.
**********************************************************************


Donella wipes the dirt and paint and blood around on her face, mixing tears and laughter. "Most of it, yes," she laugh-cries, and seems to be sound enough to show RARE effusion, in trying to hug Khanne, or support her. "Thanks in no small part to the valor of yourself and your family... The North will sing of that, and all the heroes of this day for a thousand years, should we survive that long. Thank you! Let me help you inside. You need... you need rest. And I need a hankie." She sniffles loudly. "I need to find Darren. And Gwenna. I lost sight of her--"

Khanne nods to Donella, the two women likely supporting each other as they make there way inside. "You need rest as well. I believe she is receiving some aid inside." She offers Donella a small smile and says, "together. We all did it together. The North stands, because we stand side by side."