Battle of Castle Doom

ooc: just how big is the radius of these shockwaves?
and I am hired to help evil

ic:"Men we have a problem. some mage is spreadin havoc with the clients servants, and he has assigned me and a small group of dwarves to kill it whos with me?". several hands raise "good. keep firing at the big ones while we are gone okay scotty" "alright cap'n "

a few minutes later the dwarves were in the main hall's opposite end to wind and doug called "aim". The dwarves lined up in a firing line and pulled their crossbows to firing stance "fire at will". The dwarves fire and only hit the floor and the walls. "You idiots we are payed to kill, not to miss, no grog for any of ya. "the range is to far the crossbows dont fire far enough" said Andrew. "dammit ya pansy look its a elf riding a donkey. You could run up to it a slash it for gronds sakes!" yelled doug back.

[Obsolete57]

OOC: Probaly not as big as the battleground, but Charcion is very intact with the earth and the elements, allowing him to sense any great power in a two mile radius.

IC: Around this time, Charcion arrived. He stood on a hill, surveying the battleground. He stared in dismay as he saw lives wasted. Closing his emerald eyes, he bowed his head, unstrapped Aiedail and charged. Within two seconds he had cleared the small gap between him and the battlefield, hewing the first undead he saw with cruel strokes of Aiedail. Parrying a attack from an undead, he swung Aiedail in a great arc, letting five more fall headless.

Then he saw the castle. "I'm not afraid to die." he muttered to himself, and charged at the castle, hewing any undead who would dare stand before him. Covered in rotting flesh and blood of his enemies, Charcion ran as fast as he could, ignoring the skeletal hands clawing feebily at his armor, until at last one got through and grabbed his arm with unbelivable strength. Charcion yelled in frustration as he grabbed the hand and snapped it off, grimacing as he muttered to himself, "Thats gonna bruise".

Meanwhile, in the Castle

OOCSomeone post so I don't hafta edit this again!!!)

[Arhra]

Watching the knights advance, Nezurahl casts another whisper spell. This time he speaks to an archer captain.

"Have you distributed the special arrows as I commanded?"

"Yes my lord."

"Good, wait until the front ranks of the knights have reached half bow range and then open fire."

Nezurahl smiles a cruel smile as he hears the slithery sound of the archers fire a volley of arrows. The arrow reach the top of their flight and fall upon their foes like barbed rain. The soldiers cry out in pain as the razored arrowheads slice into the. Their cries gain a note of terror as the flesh around even the lightest scratch from the arrows begins to rot away. The advance falters, the necrotising arrows doing their job as the archers prepare for a second volley.

[Rhiya Ravenwing]

OOC: Breeze's shockwaves have a radius of about 20 metres. pretty big I'd say.

BIC:
Wind's heart clenched as Breeze faltered. She had felt the spell, and knew what it was doing to her poor friend. The beast behind her gave a lusty roar and quickened its pace.
"Leave, Breeze! I will take care of it," she whispered quickly to the wild stallion. Breeze tossed his head with regretful assent.
Suddenly, Wind was rolling to her feet, her mount having dissipated underneath her. She felt the hatred against all things living emanate from the beast of hell as it advanced with ludicrous speed.
Her arm throbbed with pain, but she held her staff at ready, taking a fighting stance, blind eyes flashing fiercely. The beast, thinking her cute, raised a sickled claw for a slashing kill. The paw went down, slicing through the air where Wind would've been. It grunted with surprise.
"Hey, up here," came the voice. The hellbeast stupidly looked up at the source of the annoyance. Bless its cursed heart, she thought as she slammed her wolf fang attack downwards, ripping up another portion of the monster's face. She landed, her legs bunched like powerful coils beneath her body, and winced. That desperate leap (powered by a boost of magic) didn't go too well on the way down.
"I'll create a little distraction for you to play with, no?" she grimaced as she said it, and struck the earth with her air staff.

The earth shuddered and bucked as a great jagged hole ripped open at her feet. It caused more undead to tumble into its dark depths, but more simply replaced them. However, it wasn’t earth maw that she had used. No.
From within the chasm of utter darkness, a roar of an unimaginable beast issued forth. Slithering out like the great serpent he was, Chasm erupted out of the great hole, which closed after it, forming back to its original, uninterrupted shape. The great stone elemental rammed headfirst into the hellbeast, throwing it backwards. A stone tail whipped forward and a resounding crack announced the breaking of an important bone in the hellbeast’s leg. Roaring with pain, the beast toppled backwards, crippled.

Wind didn’t pause to watch the battle. She was already moving… and transforming. Leaping into the air, her arms erupted in feathers and shrank, likewise did her body. She became a quick bird of white, darting through the clumsy undead, dodging the lethal arrows.

[Stik]

Name: Bombgrat Flystik
Gender:Male
Age:36
Race:Goblin
Alingmentrifta
Class:Bomba
Sub-class:Pilot
Equipment; Gobbo zeppelin, lotsa bombz and da crew

[Rhiya Ravenwing]

OOC: erm... we don't really have zeppelins in the medieval ages. I think you're in the wrong era o.O

[The Infallible]

Name: Losil Elmian
Gender: Male
Age: 56
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 145 lb's
Species: Human
Class: Wizard
Allignment: Neutral Good, fighting for the forces of Good for personal reasons
Background: Abandoned as a child he was found by the great Wizard Thom Al'barath. Thom sensed the dormant power lying within him and began to school him in the ways of Wizardry. Losil soon surpassed Thom and went off to find adventure. Having fought for countless different warlords in his life, he has grown accustomed to war and has no moral objection to the taking of life.

Spells: More of a Sorceror way of thinking than most wizards, he gave up the practice of learning spells long ago and now just uses the raw destructive power of magic to destroy his enemies. However he does employ traditional healing spells.

Equipment: Light Armour and a quarter staff

IC: Losil looked with resentment at the clashing soldiers from atop a high hill.
"I shall not die this day" said Losil as instructed his black steed to charge into the fray. Moving fast down the hill, he issued a series of unintelligable sylables from his mouth and a white hot shield grew around him as he rode into the ranks of soldiers. "To hell with you, to hell with all of you!" cried Losil as his shield erupted from him killing both good and evil soldiers. He dismounted and bade hs horse flee from the field. He stood ground and planted his staffin the ground waiting for the next advance of the undead.

His attention was drawn by the barrage of stones from the Dwarf operated catapults. I need to do something about that, He thought, We're out numbered as it is, we dont needthose wiping out more of our troops. He raised his staff, pointed it at the Dwarves and let loose a torrent of fire, taking out a number of dwarves and damaging a catapult.

[Obsolete57]

Meanwhile, Charcion had fought his way to the gate, and, after taking out several zombies and undead, made his way inside. Momentarily distracted by the ball of fire hitting the catapults, he looked up and cursed. A rock fell where he was a moment earlier, cracking and splintering into hundreds of pieces. "Damnit." he muttered as he looked down, and spotted the knights, as well as hordes of Dwarven Archers firing upon them. He slinked into the shadows and literally disappeared dispite his gold/red armor. He appeared before the knights, facing the archers, crossbow-bolts pinging harmlessly off his armor. He raised Aiedail and bellowed, and all of half the dwarven archers faltered, stopping firing and moments later skittering away like rats. Slamming Aiedail into the ground, causing the earth itself to creak and shake, as well as cause a deep gash and several small cracks extending, and half of the remaining dwarves ran like mice after a bit of cheese, fear overwhelming their loyalty for their commander and for the reward.

He turned to find the knights almost upon him, and swore, knowing they would see him as an enemy, if he did not identify himself, but he wasn't in the mood for that. He quickly dissappeared into the shadows again, gasping and trying to catch his breath from the exertion of energy required to make all those dwarves run.

Meanwhile.

[Rhiya Ravenwing]

OOC: curiosity killed the cat, but would it kill a swallow?

BIC:
Chasm roared as he slammed his mighty body into the demon again and again. Kill! his ancient mind screamed. He knew he would be of good use. He will do it for Wind. He will do it for the one that saved him from isolation. :Fly, Wind, fly!:

Wind sliced through the ranks of fighting men and undead as quickly as she dared, but something caught her eye. A flash of red armour. A stranger’s face. Wind turned her white head and swung around quickly, aiming for the stranger. He bellowed a deafening challenge that scattered the advancing dwarfs, but the knights that advanced did not react to his aid. Instead, they advanced still, intent on cutting the man down.
Charcion seemed to shimmer, then disappear within the shadows, but Wind’s sharp, inhuman eyes caught his movements. She flashed in front of the knights and ducked beneath the tired man’s leg, changing quickly. This man interests me. I will help.
She heard him gasp with surprise and almost tumble off her back as she surged forward, a gleaming brown mare. She wheeled around and charged towards the castle gates, expertly dodging the volleys of arrows and rocks, Charcion bouncing on her back.

[Arhra]

Nezurahl curses as he watches his foes approach the gates of the castle but with the undead slowing the majority of the knights down, the necromancer sees an opportunity. He strides down from the battlements, soldiers hastening out of his way as he reaches the ground. He orders some servants to fetch his battle gear and his steed and others to marshal the Ebon Guard.

Witihn minutes he is at the gate, armed for battle. Long spike-like protrusions of armour pierce through his tattered robes at the shoulders, hinting at heavy armour beneath. His hands and forearms are armoured in claw-like black gauntlets and he wears a crown-like helm, blade-like spines twisting around his horns. A horse-shaped creature that looks like it was spawned from the nightmares of mortal men waits for him at the head of a group of dark horsemen, who too are clad in black armour and tattered claoks, their pale hands clutching blades of ancient make and their cold eyes burn with A chill blue flame. The steeds' hides are as dark as a starless night and seem oddly insubtantial, as if they aren't truly there. Nezurahl mounts his fell steed and draws his sword, the thin runes etched into the black steel glinting with a dire light. Signalled forwards he and the Ebon Guard move forwards in utter silence.

Outside a booming horn can be heard and then, as the beseiging army watches, the great gates of ancient wood bound with spell-graven steel ponderously open and terror rides out. As a solid black wedge the Ebon Guard surge forwards, their presence fear incarnate. Some flee before them and those who stand are cut down by cursed blades, a single blow a mortal wound. They bear down on Charcion and Wind, intent on slaying those who oppose them.