by DoughGuy Thu Nov 08, 2012 8:39 pm
Unfortunately guys, I’ve lost the motivation to write this. I said I wouldn’t become Viral but apparently I did xD. Instead I’m going to write all the major events that happen and call it done. Anyway onwards.
Names
Hoshi = Grant
Bio = Strider (don’t know if this is correct but Bio wont get on skype!)
Seth = Simbarda
Aurea = Aurea
Serious = Andarta
Spur = Nevyn and Robin
Sunlight = Ryan
***
On the left flank Nevyn and his dragons led a contingent of knights against the darkstalker charge. The darkstalkers flew at them like a shadow free from its host, ready to take the life of its victims. In response the dragons bellowed and poured their flames into the enemies path. Dozens went down screaming in agony and the fire melted skin to armour and charred to the bone. Seizing the opportunity the knights rushed forward, butchering those who had stopped when confronted with the flames.
All but one knight Hastur. An Astoran, from the Gilreth county to the northeast, he had enlisted 5 years ago, found his wife in the knights within a year, and they were married
by his third year of service. They had travelled to Lordran together looking for glory before they retired. 7 months ago she had fallen pregnant, and had applied to leave the knights. Her request would have been granted in 2 months. 6 months ago she died during the assault on the bridge in the PW, where a force of dragons had killed her.
Hastur hated the dragons for that, and he could not believe Oscar had allowed them to side with them. But he realised it was in truth, a great boon. For now he had his chance. As the knights rushed forward he unsheathed a sickly green dagger from his belt. The dragons, exhausted from their breath attack did not notice his intentions, not until he roared “FOR ALEIA” and pushed the dagger into Nevyn’s neck.
The battle seemed to stop for a second, the dragons and knights all looking to turn at the sound. Eye’s widening in shock, mouths gasping “No!” but not making any sound. With a roar of anger the Dragons turned as one and their claws ripped into Hastur. The knight was torn to shreds beneath them but only laughed as he died.
The knight were still frozen with indecision. They didn’t know if they were to attack the
dragons or ignore them. The pause cost them as the darkstalkers rallied and charged again. The tide of slaughter reversed itself and the knights were swept away.
***
On the right flank the knights and the Darkstalkers faced off for a second time. Dead bodies littered the field between them. The darkstalkers howled while the knights shouted. Ready for action the darkstalkers charged.
Up above Lethard watched the action. It was time to test his new powers, and he had found the perfect spot. Opening his book he began to chant.
Down below a breeze disturbed the corpses, a breeze where no wind should blow. Magic rode this wind, and as it passed each corpse the magic left the wind and entered the hollow vessel. And the vessels rose.
At first the darkstalker charge faltered as the dead rose. The knights too were shocked into quiet. But the darkstalkers overcame their indecision and roared believing their allies to have joined them. Their charged resumed with confidence. But as they entered the block of dead they were taken by surprise as their thought of allies turned on them. Stalkers were pulled to the ground and ripped apart. Those at the back of the charge scrambled backwards from the dead, but they were pursued.
Watching from above Lethard laughed.
Oscar had been fighting his way to the left flank in order to check on them. He had heard there was heavy fighting on that side. He arrived just in time to see the dead rise and turn on the darkstalkers. He saw something there, and what it made him think disturbed him.
***
Drake and his guard stalked the upper reaches of the Archives. With the knights defence
broken they had split into smaller knots of resistance, well utilising the archives winding passages for ambushing and retreating. They may have lost their main defences but they were no way out of the fight.
Drake little feared attack. His retinue was some of the most powerful bone hand in the Gravesworn and would strike fear into the heart of his foes. They passed the entrance to the prison section ignoring it. It was of little strategic value. While some knights would be hiding down there it was not worth his time. He had greater things to seize. As the last bone hand stepped past the door the first arrow struck. The arrow punched through their helm and the knight dropped. Drake turned astounded. His dead knights were immune to such mortal injuries, there was no way that arrow killed his knight. That was when the second arrow struck, piercing the heart of the knight next to him with a meaty thud. The knight dropped.
“Shields raised!” Drake’s raspy voice roared. The bone hand raised their shields and formed a circle of protection. Yet arrows continued to strike them through gaps in the shield, and each arrow was a kill no matter where it struck. One knight was struck in the leg and dropped. Drake expected them to rise straight away, only temporarily set back by the arrow but the knights stayed down.
“Magic.” hissed Drake, remember an event Avrik had once recounted to him. Where a divine arrow had struck him and almost killed him. His knights, strong as they were, were too weak to survive the potency of divine magic.
In seconds his retinue was dead, all 9 struck by arrows. Drake scanned the landscape,
hoping to catch a view of the attacker. He spotted them and the 10th arrow pierced his chest. An airless gasp escaped his lips and he went down. The strength of the magic surprised him, and it took all his power to stop it overwhelming him. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for air he couldn’t use. With supreme effort he forced a stalemate, and was able to start crawling forward.
He sensed a being in front of him, and looked up into the eyes of Laplace. He was about to ask the shadow for help when he saw the bow and the empty quiver.
“You bastard. Why did you do this? Abel will kill you.”
“Abel ordered this traitor. You would have sold us out to the lifehunters. We only acted to make sure that didn’t happen. Now the triumvirate will succeed you and your plans will fail.”
“What are you talking about?” Drake hissed. The power of the arrow was taking its toll. He fell to the ground, unable to support himself. “Plans, lifehunters, triumvirate? I don’t know what you mean!”
“DON’T LIE TO ME!” shouted Laplace, suddenly exploding. “Our spies found your plans to betray us. We won’t let that happen. WE WON’T LET YOU GO!” Laplace dropped his bow drew his furysword.
“LAPLACE!” roared Drake, “YOU”RE MAKING A MISTAKE!”
“You think that armour will protect you from fire Drake?” asked Laplace as he licked his blade, fire bursting along its length behind his tongue, “Let’s see how good it is.” He
flicked the blade around his wrist twice before plunging it down Drake’s throat.
***
The battle was over. The archives were a ruin. Fires still burned within it, no one to stop them. Midway through the battle the Lifehunters had abandoned the fight, leaving the knights to try and stop an overwhelming force on their own. They had been pushed from the archives, to the very rear where the sorcerers waited in ambush. Attacked from 2 sides the largest major group of knights broke and scattered. Only a call from New Londo, informing the dark lord a group of assassins had attacked the city and the defenders needed support stopped the attack. The darkstalkers withdrew to guard their home darkstalkers the Gravesworn and follower were unwilling to make the final push
and decided they had inflicted enough damage. The great army retreated, leaving the archives the ruin they were.
From the ruins over the night small groups of knights emerged and gathered in the main hall. Master Grant led a small group of Paladins out of the secondary library. Andarta and a dozen remaining seekers flew down from the upper levels, while Strider led the remaining Tower and Sworn knights from the front line defence.
Grant couldn’t believe the damage that had been done. He couldn’t find any of the other Masters or Commanders. He couldn’t even find Oscar. But he needed to. Alive Oscar could rally them. Dead … well they needed to know if he was dead.
“Aurea, Ryan, Strider, Simbarda. Takes a squad each and search the archives. See who you can find alive.” he ordered, “Private Robin disperse the remaining troops on sentry duty.”
The knights saluted and left with their squads. Robin went about organising the soldiers.
“Grant you made it.”
Grant looked up to see Sergeant Cyrian leading a small group of Bane knights. He rose and shook the man’s hand. Every survivor now was a boon.
“No love for me Grant?” chuckled a familiar voice. Grant looked over Cyrian’s shoulder to see Aldthre standing in his usual co-cky pose.
“You survived too Aldthre. That’s good, we need every medic we can get.”
“Unfortunately you’ll only get me Grant. All the others were killed. The Gravesworn took particular delight in killing those who dedicated their lives to stopping death.” Aldthre replied grimly.
***
“We found him!” The shout echoed through the survivors, “We found Oscar!”
Grant rushed out to meet Simbarda. “Where is he?”
“Follow me. And bring any medics, he’s in bad shape.”
***
Aldthre stood up from his crouch, cracking his back as he stretched. “He’s too far gone for me to save him.” he said sadly, “I can hold him where he is, but no more.”
The knights stood around Oscar’s still form. Around him lay a dozen of the darkstalkers shadows, all cared apart by dragon spear slashes and stabs. Oscar’s arm ur was covered in dents and scratches, yet only one wound troubled him. A single arrow, poking out from just above his heart marred his armour.
“It just missed his heart, but his lung is gone. He has lain for too long untreated.”
Grant looked at him with desperation in his eyes, “Is there nothing you can do? Nothing you know of?”
Aldthre was quiet. He weighed up his options. This was the perfect chance. No one would question his actions; no one would attack him for what he suggested. These knights needed their leader and would do anything.
“I know of one possible thing … it’s a great risk though. And it may not even exist.”
“Whatever it takes Aldthre.” Cyrian said.
The knights nodded, and Lethard knew he had them in his grasp.
“Very well then. We must go … to Oolacile.”
