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The Maid of the Comet: A Tale from Azeroth

What should the next Quest be?

  • Paths of Rhun (Middle Earth East Quest)

    Votes: 5 31.3%

  • By Your Will (Dungeon Keeper 1 Quest)

    Votes: 5 31.3%

  • Another Legend Quest (Gilgamesh, Lucrezia, Mordred, etc)

    Votes: 5 31.3%

  • None of the Above

    Votes: 4 25.0%
  • Total voters
    16
  • Poll closed .
Reader mode
Vote will end tomorrow morning. Here's the updated tally.
Adhoc vote count started by King Tharassian on Feb 18, 2018 at 2:36 PM, finished with 225 posts and 11 votes.
  • [x] Called the Light. Divine retribution might not solve all problems, but it might help lessen this one.
    [X] Circled around, and attacked from behind. You might not survive a straight fight, but maybe the light of God could collapse the skulls of the dead as well as heal wounds.
    [X] Ran to join the soldiers. You wouldn't let them die when you could stop it. You didn't leave at Orleans, and you wouldn't now.
    [X] Circled around, and attacked from behind. You might not survive a straight fight, but maybe the light of God could collapse the skulls of the dead as well as heal wounds.
Click to expand...

Adhoc vote count started by King Tharassian on Feb 18, 2018 at 4:08 PM, finished with 226 posts and 11 votes.
  • [x] Called the Light. Divine retribution might not solve all problems, but it might help lessen this one.
    [X] Circled around, and attacked from behind. You might not survive a straight fight, but maybe the light of God could collapse the skulls of the dead as well as heal wounds.
    [X] Ran to join the soldiers. You wouldn't let them die when you could stop it. You didn't leave at Orleans, and you wouldn't now.
    [X] Circled around, and attacked from behind. You might not survive a straight fight, but maybe the light of God could collapse the skulls of the dead as well as heal wounds.
Click to expand...
 
[X] Ran to join the soldiers. You wouldn't let them die when you could stop it. You didn't leave at Orleans, and you wouldn't now.
 
Vote is now closed.... The result?

A flanking attack, and hoping the Light works as "advertised." If it was advertised at all.
Adhoc vote count started by King Tharassian on Feb 19, 2018 at 12:22 PM, finished with 229 posts and 12 votes.
  • [X] Circled around, and attacked from behind. You might not survive a straight fight, but maybe the light of God could collapse the skulls of the dead as well as heal wounds.
    [x] Called the Light. Divine retribution might not solve all problems, but it might help lessen this one.
    [X] Ran to join the soldiers. You wouldn't let them die when you could stop it. You didn't leave at Orleans, and you wouldn't now.
Click to expand...
 
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Ahem.

Dice, some say Ivories...
Give us rolls!
GIVE US ROLLS!

1d20 for Scarlets 1
1d20 for Scarlets 2
1d20 for Deathguards 1
1d20 for Deathguards 2
1d10 for Sea Priests
1d6 for Spotted!
1d20 for Combat
1d20 for Defense
 
Since I'm here, I'll just roll for the Combat and Defense if it's ok...

First dice is Combat, second will be Defense

Here goes nothing...
ThatGuyWithIdeas threw 2 20-faced dice. Reason: Combat and Defense Total: 20
17 17 3 3
 
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Chapter 1.5
  • Threadmarks
    • I hope I did the battle justice.
    ​

    There was barely a moment to hesitate - before the undead could see you, you moved into the trees. Not even seconds passed before the deathguards and the crusaders met in battle, and you heard the telltale groan of crossbows from behind the deathguards' line. At this rate, the crusaders would easily be overwhelmed, if you were correct.

    So you ran through the trees, rushing to get into a flanking position.

    You weren't about to turn your back on them, but you had no armor. Your only equipment was a cracked shield and a sword that, while well-made, wouldn't fulfil the same purpose as full plate.

    But you'd faced daunting odds before. Orleans had not been wholly in your favor, and you'd won the day then. But you didn't do it through force alone (though the cannons were a nice help). You won by planning for eventualities, and endeavoring to fight less with raw strength and more through -

    "Hey, boys! We've got a live one in the trees!"

    More through that not happening. Your cover was blown, and you would have to improvise.

    Turning, you charged at the nearest deathguard, shield first. The creature let out a gurgling cackle - the most it could manage considering the missing bottom jaw - as it raised its cleaver to strike.

    In its zeal, it left itself open, and you struck the arm off at the shoulder before removing the creature's skull. You hazarded a glance at the battle. The two groups were evenly matched, it seemed. The main line had barely moved, the wave of deathguard breaking repeatedly against the shields of the crusaders. You occasionally heard the sound of cannon - undoubtedly produced by the "rifles" you had seen earlier - and the crossbows were firing from somewhere nearby.

    You turned to charge the ranged troops, catching the glint of rusting steel among the boughs. One fell immediately, shrieking as it took a sword to the sternum and directly through the spine. The next didn't see you coming as you removed its head from its shoulders. But that was as far as you got before eight more loosed a volley at you.

    Had you been more aware of their intent, you might have been able to avoid what came next.

    Another deathguard - likely a crossbowman you missed - charged out of the trees, axe raised high. You barely had time to raise your shield before he swung downward.

    There was a sickening crack, and you could tell you were screaming, even if you were deafened by virtue of extreme pain. Your wrist felt heavy, and your right arm was limp.

    Fighting through the pain, you made a few desperate attacks at the one that had attacked you. Most of the strikes flew wide thanks to your adrenaline, but a few managed to hit, and those were enough to destroy the abomination.

    As you fought to stay on your feet, the pain confused you. It was not the time, but questions came forward anyway. Why did the pain debilitate you so? You had been shot in the leg by a crossbowman once, and the fall from your horse when you were captured was far from comfortable. And the fires…

    Another lance of pain shot through you as your wrist struck limply against a nearby tree, pulling you from your musings. There was no time. Those soldiers were counting on the crossbows being silenced.

    You jogged through the trees, searching for the now-relocated undead. But you were no tracker. They were gone.

    At least, they were for a while.

    Mere moments later, you heard one of the undead screaming, and saw it fly past, its head colliding with a tree with a dry crackle. Turning to look again, you gaped as you saw what had done the deed.

    There - holding one of the creatures by the neck and using it as a club - was a massive shape, vaguely based on the upper body of a human, formed entirely from green seawater and many-colored corals. The eyes that shone near the peak of its bulk shone with a fierce intelligence as it regarded you, before it went back to beating the undead to death with their own comrade.

    Behind it, the three sea-priests returned, throwing ice from their fingertips and calling forth lightning from their palms. The rifles emerged from the trees, and began firing rapidly.

    Then things went wrong. The deathguard you had been chasing caught the - you supposed they would be called riflemen - nearly off-guard, and two more crusaders were cut down before they could scream.

    The crusaders formed a tiny circle, rifles and swords aiming out in all directions as the undead pressed in. The water-beast thrashed around, each strike sending another deathguard flying, but for every one that died, two more were able to get back up. The sea-priests were casting as quickly as they could, but they were clearly drained from, well, doing whatever they'd done to summon the water-beast. The battle had turned again. One near-invincible beast could not turn the tide when the defenders were already wounded and fatigued.

    So you attacked again, prayers flying past your lips as you called for aid in this crisis. Something, anything, to turn back the tide and break the deathguards' assault. All you recived in return was a low hum at the back of your mind as the Saints tried to break through the fog clouding your mind. You continued your prayer, the words leaving your mouth almost faster than you could say them.

    "Anything."

    You would not fail. Not so soon. Not when these people could have been saved. The prayers ceased, and you focused on all the times you had pulled forth a miracle. All of the victories against the odds, all of the times you had seen the brightest of lights, all the way back to a cold spring morning, years ago, when a child heard the voice of an angel tell her that she was meant for more.

    And you felt the world fade as time slowed, and a spark fluttered and flickered before you, so familiar in its feeling and yet so alien in its form. You knew it well, for it was the light that filled your eyes at the sound of the church bells. It was the light that had shielded you in your arrival here. It was the light that you had harnessed, born of faith and devotion to a cause greater than yourself, waiting for you to accept it wholly.

    You reached out, and you were filled with fire.    ​


    In an instant, the pain disappeared. The residual soreness of your landing melted away. Your wrist did not feel so heavy, and light filled the clearing once more. The undead all recoiled reflexively, only a few turning to see you bathed in holy might.

    You barely registered the strange letters on your sword, which shone with the same light as filled you body and soul. You barely realized that you had shocked even the Tirasians, who had already seen the brilliance of the Almighty's grace. All that mattered was this battle, the first of many, between righteousness and evil; purity and vileness; life and death.

    As you walked, your Light mended the wounds of the Tirasians. It burned the flesh of the deathguards, who were half-stunned and half-terrified by the sight of the unexpected paladin before them. They hesitated.

    A crucial mistake, as it turned out. The water-beast seized the initative, augmenting its shattered maul with a second as it grabbed another deathguard by the legs. The strength of the beast's strikes, combined with the newfound resolve and energy of the crusaders and your own Light, ended the battle quickly.

    The undead were broken, and soon thirty dead deathguards lay around the glade as a strange, very large reptilian bird with moth-like antennae chirped down at you.

    "Milady?"

    You turned, and found Thornby. His armor was dented and torn in places, but his injuries were gone.

    "You should rest, miss Jeanne. If I understand, then you aren't trained, and that was a great deal of effort." He was concerned? He didn't need to be. You had the Light. You had the Almighty. You had the Saints in your ear. This silly weight on your eyelids meant nothing. Not when there was so much to do…

    "I think it's time she rests."

    "She sounds like that time she didn't sleep for two days. I don't want to see that again. Especially the time she tried to stay awake for three."

    "Don't worry Margaret. I can do this."

    As Michael's voice faded, you found yourself asleep again.     ​


    When your eyes opened again, the sky was not blocked by trees. There was no buzzing in the back of your mind. The weird bird-dragon-moth was not chirping at you.

    In exchange, everything was deathly quiet except for the sound of a fire.

    Attempting to move your right arm reminded you that it was currently unusable. The pain was significantly less debilitating, but it seemed that the Light could not reset bones in the heat of combat, and would not mend them when the mending would not help the patient. There were a pair of sticks bound with cloth around your hand, and you felt as though you should have known what they were.

    "Ah! You're awake, milady." One of the sea-priests was looking down upon you. "It's good to see you are up so soon. I admit that we expected a much longer period of unconsciousness, considering the degree of energy you used, both to fight the undead and…" He coughed. "Our attempts to reset the bones of your wrist."

    "Where are we?" You were grateful of course, but right now you had no patience for the musings of a helpful heathen. "And how long has passed, if you expected longer?"

    "Oh!" The priest smiled. "We are in Tirisfal, not far West of the ruins of Brill. You were asleep for…" He looked at the sky, measuring the progress of the moon. "About the better part of half a day. It is very early morning now."

    "That long?" You had to admit, you felt much better, but to think that you had essentially been dead weight for that length of time…

    "Indeed. We - my colleagues and I, that is - felt it better that you have time to recover than to wake you immediately. Rest is known to help reduce stress and accelerate the healing of wounds."

    "And why, then," you asked, somewhat impatiently, "did you not try to heal my wrist more?" At this, he looked sheepish.

    "Well, milady, I -" He cut himself off. "My order does not specialize in healing as the Church of Light does. We can mend cuts and lacerations, yes, but broken bones are another matter." He shrugged. "Setting your wrist properly was the best we could do. And it seems that your innate Light aided in preventing it from getting worse afterwards, so the regrettable lack of means with which to hold it in place was less keenly felt. That splint was deemed to be enough for now." Oh. So that was what that thing was on your hand. You did know that, somewhere. You briefly considered cursing sleep for its clouding of one's mental faculties before deciding that it was pointless anyway.

    "And the rest?" His expression grew somber.

    "The deathguard were toying with us. We only lost two more, but that would not have been the case were it not for you, milady." His lips were drawn into a thin line. "The elemental was dispelled by that faerie dragon you were so fascinated by, so we had no help from it on the way here. As for those left…" He nodded Eastward. "Captain Thornby has taken two of the remaining riflemen and gone forward to report to Vandermar Village. He gave us orders to heed your wishes with regards to your destination, but recommended going to Vandermar as quickly as possible."

    "And the destinations he recommended?" You knew nothing of this place, and needed information. You talked with the priest -whose name was apparently Phillipus Hydraxes - and learned of three places:

    [] The Scarlet Monastery. The sole center of power held by the Crusade in Tirisfal, it was overseen by one High Inquisitor Whitemane and her friend (why did Phillipus seem to say "friend" sarcastically?) Scarlet Commander Mograine. It had once been home to an order of monks, before the Scourging, and now acted as the center of the Crusade's operations in the Western Theatre.

    [] Hearthglen. The second great city of the Crusade, behind the legendary citadel of Tyr's Hand. It was ruled by two officers: Scarlet High Commander Pureblood, who was the official head of operations in the Western Plaguelands and Northern Lordaeron, and Highlord Fordring, a younger man who oversaw the region itself in terms of defense and reconstruction.

    [] Vandermar Village. A settlement built on the ruins of the original Vandermar, the Village apparently had been intended as little more than a glorified listening post. Under the leadership of the head of the Tirasians, a paladin named Morlune the Mighty, the settlement had become a boomtown on the southern bank of the River Darrow. Captain Thornby was to report to his commanders there, and you could progress there directly if you so wished.


    Having made your decision, you took command of the ten soldiers and three sea-priests left with you, and set out with first light. The time had come for you to find your path, and where your mission would lead you.
    ​
    ​
    End of Chapter One​


    Inventory Change: Lost Cracked Buckler

    Trait Gained: Lightbearer - You carry the power of the Light within you, and have the potential to walk one of its many paths. Some say that your particular strength is rivalled by few, and exceeded by even fewer.

    ​


    And there you have it.
    ​
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • [X] Hearthglen. The second great city of the Crusade, behind the legendary citadel of Tyr's Hand. It was ruled by two officers: Scarlet High Commander Pureblood, who was the official head of operations in the Western Plaguelands and Northern Lordaeron, and Highlord Fordring, a younger man who oversaw the region itself in terms of defense and reconstruction.

    because Tirion Fordring and unless this AU has Mograine unpossed going to the scarlet monastery involves tangoing with a dreadlord which is a bit outside of our character level :D
     
    san said:
    [X] Hearthglen. The second great city of the Crusade, behind the legendary citadel of Tyr's Hand. It was ruled by two officers: Scarlet High Commander Pureblood, who was the official head of operations in the Western Plaguelands and Northern Lordaeron, and Highlord Fordring, a younger man who oversaw the region itself in terms of defense and reconstruction.

    because Tirion Fordring and unless this AU has Mograine unpossed going to the scarlet monastery involves tangoing with a dreadlord which is a bit outside of our character level :D
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    Wrong Fordring, and wrong possessee. Sorry, san. Remember. Classic. No Argent Dawn.
     
    King Tharassian said:
    Wrong Fordring, and wrong possessee. Sorry, san. Remember. Classic. No Argent Dawn.
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    ..... so? its still a Fordring either way those guys are always awesome :D

    as for wrong possessed dude, IDC Mograine is an evil shit and I don't want to have to fight him before we secure a position and reputation in the crusade for ourselves :D
     
    Good job on the battle I really enjoyed reading it!

    [X] Vandermar Village. A settlement built on the ruins of the original Vandermar, the Village apparently had been intended as little more than a glorified listening post. Under the leadership of the head of the Tirasians, a paladin named Morlune the Mighty, the settlement had become a boomtown on the southern bank of the River Darrow. Captain Thornby was to report to his commanders there, and you could progress there directly if you so wished.
     
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