Sunday, 12 February 2012

A Raid on Death Knell

Empire (Tim) vs Wood Elves (Gill) 

From out of the orchard they came: Wood Elves and their fey kin, spiteful spirits of the forest, eager to steal and burn.

The village of Death Knell had stood for centuries as its inhabitants quietly picked the magic-swollen fruit from the trees and made their wine, and in recent decades, the Elves had come to snatch away damsels and boys for their sacrifice on the Bloodroot Altar - only taking a couple at a time. Now though, something had changed. Now the Elves were here in force; now they were intent on only one thing: devastation!

They wanted Death Knell burned to the ground and every one of its patrons dragged off into the forests to be killed. The purpose of the dread ritual this would precipitate was impossible to guess, but Maglor Telemnar, commander of the Elves of Linwe, was clearly ready to step up his campaign.

However he hadn't reckoned on the brave men of New Sylvania!

They were ready for the Elves, prepared as much as could be for the raid, a large force of men stopped here for provisions before pushing on to destroy the Wood Elf capital. Their scouts had signalled the almost silent Elven approach and they had time to take up positions.

As screaming Dryads dragged screaming children from their beds, others, wielding torches, set the buildings aflame. Glad Riders galloped down the lane that ran aside the great orchard, seeking to snatch up fleeing villagers, but knights awaited them, and leading the knights: Marcus von Drak himself, lord of all New Sylvania.

The knights clashed, easily devastating the unwary elven riders, but as Handgunners stationed in one of the buildings found it hard to draw a bead through the narrow gaps between the buildings, the Dryads, continued to set fires, capturing townsfolk all the while for their grisly sacrifices.

And as the forest spirits worked their evil, the Glade Guard let fly their flaming arrows at buildings across the way, setting them aflame and forcing the Handgunners to flee.

But the Greatswords and Swordsmen fought hard, ignoring the arrows from harassing Warhawk Riders, clashing with a Gargantuan Treeman and sending it off, hacking at the Dryads, steeled by the prayers of the three Warrior Priests who strengthened their cause.

And as they cleared the village, freeing the prisoners the Wood Elves had taken, they set to, extinguishing the flames that were taking the buildings.

Laden with captured victims, the last few Dryads emerged from one of the burning buildings but the knights were waiting for them and ran them down, hacking them to kindling.

The Wood Elf raid had been shattered, the fey folk sent to flee back into the woods.

The plans of Maglor Telemnar to gather sacrificial victims on an unprecedented scale had fell to nought. Though surely his dark plan and darker purpose, whatever it was, remained a potent fear.

But that was a worry for another day. For now, the men of the Empire, the men of New Sylvania, had won the day, and they had sent a message to the Elven capital of Linwe, hidden away in the centre of Bloodroot Forest. Four simple words:





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