Arch-Ruin 2.04.2017

[ShamanMaster]

. : . : . : It was evening and after a long day of martialing the troops and riding the country with scouts Uther was sitting down at camp for supper and wine. Even though he was royalty he did not spend his days residing within the castle walls dining fine and hoping jesters entertained him. He preferred to ride with his men and lead by example, being the first one on the front lines in nearly every campaign even if they were not urgent. He was after all, of the legendary Pendragon name. The breeze was gentle and his camp was set upon a low hill that viewed Arhon’s surrounding country far and wide and sloped down to a small lake. Some of the troops relieved of their duties for the day had begun to fish for dinner. A rider on horseback making great haste from afar caught his eye as he sipped on his wine. By this time all scouts from camp had already returned so this was either a message from another lord or something dire had happened back home; he quietly hoped for the former and watched patiently as the rider approached, being waved clearance by several sentries as he flashed a signet on the way to Uther’s tent.

. . . .“Hail, rider. Show me your signet,” Uther spoke as he greeted the rider.

. . . .“It is the signet of the Shaman Master my lord, and lady Derrin’s message,” the scout rambled anxiously, revealing a familiar shiny gold signet.

. . . .“Very well,” replied Uther, “have a rest and get something to eat and refresh for the night, I will see you in the morning, my men will tend to your hors-“

. . . .“--I do not require rest my lord, only to deliver my message this instant to you!” the rider interrupted. “Lady Derrin’s explorers have sighted a fabled monster bastion, one of the seventh level!”

Uther raised an eyebrow and finished his wine, looking out toward the setting sun and thumbing a piece of cork in his hand. He contemplated for a moment, saying nothing.

“…My lord? My lord! What say you? Did you hear what I’ve said?” the rider inquired urgently with a look of desperation showing on his face.

. . . .“The Day of Fools was yesterday rider, although I am the slightest amused I am also tired and as well I find it very surprising that Lady Derrin would go to such lengths to complete a joke like this, let alone have it be sanctioned by the Shaman Master himself seeing how he gave you the signet. Take some rations and stay the night, no more jesting for tonight young one.”
. . . .“But I do not jest! It is true! I must ride back to lady Derrin immediately and she wishes you to join her to assault the monster’s citadel...they ask for your help my lord…” the rider exclaimed and turned his horse to leave. “We could not determine their exact numbers, there are hordes of them, but they are led by the monster king Orodlador and his power is immense! The Shaman Master begs you join lady Derrin for this campaign…think of the treasure and the glory!” the rider held out from his saddle bag a scroll that contained details for the ruin coordinates and when to meet.

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. . . .“So it’s true…” Uther said barely audible as the wind picked up a stronger gust and the bit of cork blew from his hand down the hill into the wind. “We will have to attack by nightfall…it will be difficult and the men will be worn, but we can persevere.” He stood and ordered his captains to martial the troops at once and told the rider to deliver the accepted request back to Derrin. The rider rode off, a horn blew as torches lit up across the camp, and Uther prepared his battle gear.

. . .

. : . : . : The troops met together on the outskirts of the ancient ruins. It was rumor these ruins were once a great kingdom but had long since fallen and the gems stored there drew the monsters in to make it their home. Banners flew across both camps that sprawled the field like a small city – one of the Shaman Master led by lady Derrin and the other of the great Max(imus), led by Uther Pendragon. Their mages blessed them with many boons including the spell of Monsters Suppression among others which would greatly influence the course of battle. Having both armies in full and out from their capitals meant great risk for invasions from foreign Warlords as well as time for more monsters to spawn so without wasting another moment the intrepid leaders gave the war cry to attack.
Unleashing a volley of arrows and then following in with the charging of cavalry and warriors the heroes caught the monsters by surprise and though many troops were overwhelmed by the fear of the monsters the remaining were still enough to greatly outnumber the monster hordes. The monsters were slain left and right and the morale of the heroes soared, they knew they would win; but what about the monster hero? While their forces pursued and worked to finish off the monster army, Derrin and Uther took a small battalion and charged straight for the ruin keep to engage their greater enemy.

. : . : . : Finally reaching the throne room of the monsters they burst down the door and there lord Orodlador stood hulking over his throne, a massive beast of a warrior. Surrounding him were hideous witches which cackled and scurried about. His mere presence produced a sensation that rattled your bones and many of even their bravest warriors fled the keep, but the most loyal stayed and closed the holes in formation left from fleeing troops behind Uther and Derrin. Orodlador gazed into them, his eyes seething and mouth dripping.

. . . . “You cannot tame the power of the gems and you cannot tame us!” Orodlador bellowed.
. . . . "The magic of the gems is not yours to corrupt Orodlador!" cried Derrin, pointing her blade at the monster.

A low murmuring chant began near the throne as witches cited their incantation which revived some orcs that had fallen and Uther motioned with a wave of his hand for the right flank to handle them. Orodlador charged and swung his mighty axe, completely annihilating the left flank. Derrin had evaded the attack, ducked under the swipe, rolled passed his legs, and drew her blade across the monster’s side – a green spray revealed she had cut him followed by a resounding roar. The monster swept the blunt side of his axe behind him and caught Derrin in the back sending her slamming into a nearby pillar. Orodlador spun around flinging a fistful of heavy ruin rocks from his free hand and the barrage pelted Derrin’s body nearly crushing her. Stomping forth, Orodlador snorted hot steam, bloodshot eyes enraged. He put one hand onto the pillar and readied his final blow with his other raising his axe to strike Derrin. Taking this chance and motivated by the sight of his comrade’s bravery and assault -- Uther charged forth with two hands on his great-sword and with a mighty leap…in this leap his focus slowed and everything flashed before him: the Fool’s Day confusion, the scouts, the march, the battle leading to the throne room, his fallen troops, the cowards that fled, the glory of the treasure, and the thought of losing his fading partner Derrin. It all counted on this moment – he had to strike the exact spot that would finish the battle – too high and his strike would lose momentum, too low and his attack would glance off of the shield that protected Orodlador’s hunched back – he had to hit the spot exposed on the beast’s lower neck where no armor protected. Swinging his blade down as he descended he drove it into the back of the monster hero’s spine. The blade drove so deep it pierced through the heart and front side of the beast, nearly into Derrin below. There was no roar, only a silence interrupted briefly by the deep thumping of Orodlador’s body slumping to the throne room floor.

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. : . : . : Rushing to Derrin’s side the remaining soldiers had quickly finished the witches and orcs and now attended to their wounded commander. Uther Pendragon drew his blade from the monster’s corpse and sheathed it stepping forth to the chest of black gems stashed in a vault behind the throne. He opened the vault and the metallic-gray shine of the light reflecting from the thousands of gems made his eyes sparkle – something he’d not seen before. He could feel the magic pulsing from them and he knew what must be done. He took off his gauntlets and tossed them aside, plunging his hands into the gems and grasping a dozen. He returned to Derrin’s side and spoke,
. . . . “My friend, we’ve done it. The monster is slain, the black gems claimed, and the day is ours…look.” He knelt beside her and revealed to her the gems in his hands. Derrin weakly opened her eyes and pushed aside the physicians treating her as she sat up. She gazed in astonishment for a few moments watching their silvery glow, then Uther placed her hands onto their smooth surface and a surge of magic streamed through her. Her wounds rejuvenated and her strength returned. Everyone stood in awe for the magic could only treat the greatest of heroes, not just any mortal – as well, the magic could only be activated by the legendary ones and surely this was proof that both Lady Derrin and Sir Uther Pendragon were among them.

[Natfka]

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[Hexxus]

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