Chaos on The Battlefield

From Avlis Wiki
Revision as of 03:36, 31 May 2020 by Orleron (talk | contribs) (Created page with "{{Book}} Magus K. Firehart, Chaos on the Battlefield Well this is a stinking pile of rothe shit he thought to himself. Behind him artillery rained down, arrows rained down,...")
(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)
Jump to navigation Jump to search


Magus K. Firehart, Chaos on the Battlefield

Well this is a stinking pile of rothe shit he thought to himself. Behind him artillery rained down, arrows rained down, people screamed, and the specter of death stalked the land. In front of him, scores of shaahesk siege engineers tended their engines of death while around them scores of archers kept their wary eyes peeled for warmbloods. He gave the scene a final survey and then slipped his helmet back on, Yep this is a stinking pile of rothe shit and it is going to hurt. Tightening his grip on his shield he stood from his crouch in full view of the archers. Thirty more steps, he thought thirty more steps and please please sweet Andrinor, I beg that none of them have a true sight active. Twenty five more steps, and arcane energy swirled up around him. Twenty more steps, his pace quickened, fifteen more steps his pulse quickened, ten more steps he sheathed his umbrella, five more steps he pulled the wand from his belt, four more steps, he flicks the wand, three more steps, they see him, two more steps a score of arrows flies toward him, a final step the spell bursts amidst the ranks of siege engineers. He turns, feet trying to find purchase and slipping, more arrows fly towards him, one pierces his protections and slides in to his shoulder, he screams. It's run or die he thought, and so he ran. Behind him another score of arrows races towards him but his protections hold, and then all limbo breaks loose. The artillery volleys lose their deadly staccato. The regular rhythm of death falters and he chances a glance over his shoulder. Behind him siege engineers are engaged in a deadly melee with themselves. The archers that were harrying him are now gleefully shooting the siege engineers. One shaahesk has even taken an axe to a trebuchet and was cheerfully hacking at a support structure. His pace slows, his protections falter, nervously he cloaks himself once again in safety and obscurity of invisibility and he watches the madness unfold before him. One emplacement down, he thinks ... two more to go. He checks his wand again trying to remember just how many charges it has left before he starts loping toward the next target.