~ The Dwarven Blockade: [Archive] [Home] [Previous Turn] [Next Turn] ~

The battle is raging like the party has never seen before. True, the great victory at the Battle of Dillend is still fresh in their minds, but it was nothing like this. This is down and dirty, disorganized, overwhelming, and in-your-face.

The Clansman fighting against Alara moves in for his next attack. But Alara sees the move coming, and anticipates correctly, parrying with her sword and blocking the blow. At the same time, though, another Clansman arrives on the scene from the center of the camp. Stopping a few yards away from the melee, he raises his crossbow and fires at Emma, hitting the priestess in the shoulder with his quarrel. (2 hp damage)

Elloharin looks up from his position in the grass, only to see the bolt from another Clansmen, recently arrived from the center of the camp, streaming through the air toward him. The missile catches him in the stomach, and with an audible "umf!" the elf sits back in the grass, feeling the warmth of his own blood on his hands. (3 hp damage)

Meanwhile, reinforcements from the center of the camp arrive at the tent, as well. Throwing the flaps aside, one of them heads directly for Canter, sword at the ready. The gods are smiling on Canter, though, and the fighter manages to evade the blow, letting this newcomer's blade catch nothing but air. Another newcomer then jumps in, launching himself at Storm. The dwarf is occupied with Slint and doesn't see the attack coming until he feels the blade slicing into his back. The shooting pain is a sudden reminder of the gravity of the situation. (6 hp damage)

Meanwhile, another reinforcement approaches Delk and engages the dwarf. He quickly bests the Warhammer Captain, striking him hard on the upper arm and opening up a new wound. Screaming with frustration, Delk looks down to the wound but vows to keep on fighting. This was, after all, a good fight! (6 hp damage)

In the tent, at the same time, another new enemy joins the crowded scene, packing the tent with as many men as it can handle. This new foe heads straight for the closest target: Hannibal. He lands a good hit, striking the thief hard and opening up a wound on his side. (5 hp damage)

Nalpac, seeing Canter deflect a second attacker's attempt, does his best to outflank the leatherman's son. But space is tight in the tent and Canter will not be so easily beaten. When Nalpac makes his move, Canter's blade is there to block it. Bernigan, too, finds that space is tight. He thrusts toward Hannibal, but the thief's retracting movement after being hit in the back puts him just out of the diplomat's reach.

Slint, however, finds Storm just in front of him. With a glint in his bloodshot eye, he lashes out, striking Storm hard and sending him a step backward. (6 hp damage)

Fresh from blocking her foe's motions, Alara swings her own bastard sword around, both hands tightly gripping it all the while. With surprising strength, she lands a crushing blow on the man's side, ripping through the skin and immediately cracking many of his ribs. Folding sideways, he spits out a mouthful of dark blood in Alara's direction and then falls into the grass, dead.

Before she makes her next attack, Alara shouts to Elloharin, "Quick El, see if you can't get those three tied up!" motioning towards the three held by Emma's spell with her head. She then looks around the battlefield, planning her next move.

Hearing Alara's direction to Elloharin, and assuming the elf will take care of the three held men, Emma looks toward the girl. Seeing that she had taken care of her adversary, the priestess then looks to the reinforcements on the scene: the two men with crossbows and the one attacking Delk.

The two with crossbows make good targets, she quickly decides, seeing as they are standing together and working on loading up their next volley. Pointing her fingers in their direction and concentrating her energy to the task, she summons the spell with all her power, suddenly shouting into the night, "Throw down your weapons and flee!" Immediately the two men look up at Emma. A second passes and then they drop their crossbows, turn on their heels, and begin to flee toward the north.

Seeing Alara dispatch her foe, and Emma take care of two more with her Dictate spell, Skandor eyes the Clansman affected by the priestess' prior spell, the one who is just standing there, surrendered. Running toward him, Skandor decides that, since he is not outright hostile at the moment, he will first attempt to knock him out. Charging full force, the paladin tightens his grip on his massive sword and upon arriving at his target, throws a mean punch with his sword-hand, hitting his foe with both his own strength, his momentum, and the metal of the sword handle. The Clansman's head is thrown back, sending a spray of blood from his nose into the air. He is thrown down to the ground on his back with the blow. He tries to get up, but hasn't the strength and so he collapses in the grass, alive but knocked out.

"Skandor! Delk!" Emma calls behind her, "See to the others!" She motions with her blade in the direction of the enemies who were detained by her Hold Person spell. The spell should last a bit longer, but sooner or later it was going to wear off.

Elloharin's infravision has taken on a new meaning, as the world has turned the color of blood. His head is filled with it, he can hear a strange singing in his ears. He puts his bow up and joins the fray. First, he rips into the 'held' men. He goes for their throats, like a wolf, reason is fast emptying itself from his head. With cold percision, their throats are slit by El's blade and their stand there, frozen, and bleeding to death.

Not realizing that Elloharin has actually chosen to slay the defenseless men caught within her holding spell, Emma continues to look around the battlefield. The noise of ringing blades and the general confusion from all around the campsite do a lot to distract her.

Seeing Elloharin slitting the clansmen's throats Alara nearly growls, "Dammit," through clenched teeth. She then watches as the elf looks across the camp, obviously eyeing his next move: to the tent.

Delk doesn't listen or watch the events around him. His concentration is focussed entirely on the enemy before him. Still reeling from the blow he took moments before, the dwarven Captain breathes hard, thrusting and parrying, slapping aside his opponent's weak attempts at a strike. Then, finding an open chance, he lunges forward, striking the Clansman hard. The Clansman stumbles backwards, shaken, but not yet defeated.

Crayne swallows hard as he sees the scene about him. Everything suddenly slows in his mind as he surveys the chaos. His friends Hannibal, Storm and Canter fight for their lives in the tent nearby against the likes of Bernigan. It was tall odds, Crayne knew well, and if they were to survive for much longer something special needed to be done and something fast.

He then turns his attention to the other group towards the east. They were fighting strongly at the moment but more were heading their way quickly. It is then that his Uncle Karelth hands him the Ring of Water Command. 'Oh well! Here goes nothing!' he whispers to himself.

"Karelth!" he calls, "Come with me!"

Crayne quickly heads for the seclusion of a nearby tent. (Not inside, but to the back). Knowing that the two of them will become visible as soon as he uses the ring he dosen't want to stand in the middle of the battle scene with no cover. Crayne then looks to Karelth, "Karelth..." he whispers.

There is long pause. Crayne's heartbeat quickens. But then suddenly the reply comes, "I'm here!" he calls, "Not as nimble as I used to be!" he says puffing.

"Take this!" Crayne says handing him his staff, "If anybody comes near clutch the staff really hard and then hit them with it!"

It is then that Crayne focuses his mind on the ring. With his magical knowledge there is little he can do at the moment. What he does turn to, though, are some old fables that his Uncle used to tell him when he was young. Fables about great battles and romance! It is to one he particularly focuses on. The tale of the Elemental Wars! Muttering a few words of arcane magic, a quick Cantrip for a muffling effect, Crayne causes the sounds around him to dim somewhat. His mind calms and becomes focused. He concentrates on the ring and then thinks of the stream nearby.

Suddenly he feels the current of the water. The rhythm and harmony of it envelops his mind. Staggered by this incantation he moves onto his next objective. Crayne attempts to suck the water from the stream and, he imagines, conjure a water elemental. Perhaps not a large one, Crayne hopes, but he is sure that he can manage something. Hoping for the best Crayne summons up all his mental strength and puts it into the ring.

The feeling of water intensifies and he can tell something is definitely happening. Then all of a sudden he feels a tremendous weight upon his arms, as if he is carrying something extremely heavy. Then somehow he knows it, perhaps magically, he can tell what is going on. It isn't an elemental. It is very strange.

Falling from the sky is a sheet of ice, breaking up in the air as it approaches the ground. Crayne does his best to direct its trajectory as careers toward the earth. He points, literally pulls the weight on his arms, toward the tent and the area just beyond. But it is difficult to control, was it the magic that was so heavy, or was he actually controling the ice? Regardless, the sheet breaks up completely about twenty feet from the ground into large balls of solid ice, like immense hail.

The hail rips through the tent, literally tearing it to shreds. The hailstorm completely overtakes one of the Clanmen approaching the tent from the direction of the campfire, pummeling his body into one cold, bloody heap in the grass. The hail also rips into the Clansman attacking Hannibal alongside Bernigan, and one of the balls impacts upon the man's head, cracking it open and flying right through! Blood and brains pour out onto the icy ground as the man falls to the ground, instantly killed. Bernigan and Slint are struck by the titanic hail as well, as are Canter and Storm. The balls of ice impact hard on the skin and armor, breaking bones and bruising upon impact. (15 hp damage to Canter, 13 hp damage to Storm)

Things were going from bad to worse and Hannibal was becoming worried. He knows that Canter's presence would help but reinforcements could not be far off, he believes. As he parries and fights with Bernigan, attempting to dodge the incoming spheres of ice, he finds himself worrying about the others. Were they ok? How is the fight going for the other group? And is Crayne in trouble? The emotions are strange to him, some he had not in fact felt since years past on the icy fields of Bigamore's Dredge.

Returning to the fight at hand, he stares down his lifelong adversary and grins. It would be good to see this man die by his blade today, after all the pain he had inflicted on Hannibal. A change in strategy, ever so slight, takes place as Bernigan presses his attack, taking advantage of the hailstorm overhead and the pieces which had just struck Bernigan. The man was confident, too confident, and that would lead to his demise.

Slowly, methodically, Hannibal sucks him in. At first he parries, making it look as if the diplomat was getting the best of him. In reality he is the better swordsman, but in the end that is just what Hannibal wants him to think. Feigning fatigue, Hannibal works the battle backwards and into a corner of the shreded tent. And then the dagger appears.

Hannibal keeps the dagger hidden from view, making his left hand appear to sag due to fatigue. At just the right moment, he uses his sword as a shield and moves in. With a subtle shift to the side, and then a frontal attack, combined with a iceball sudden ripping down and striking Bernigan in the back, Hannibal firmly plants the dagger in Bernigan's chest as the diplomat is flung toward him. He presses the dagger in hard and deep, until he can feel Bernigan's blood on his hands. Then with a quick motion, he yanks the dagger back and kicks Bernigan away.

Storm, his fury raging, continues to aggressively attack Slint, his mind focused solely on his opponent. He knows he is hurting, but he knows that Slint is hurting too. His swords swinging widely but under his complete control, the dwarf overwhelms his former partner, his blades driving into Slint's flesh. Storm is only momentarily satisfied with the first hit, and quickly maneuvers around for a second, which is also a success. "Arrrr!" he calls out at the top of his lungs in full dwarven fury.

At this point, few enemies remain on the eastern side of the camp. Most of the action is in front of Delk, as the dwarven warrior attempts to fend off the attacks of his foe. But the dwarf has been hit hard and he begins to buckle, letting his guard down due to fatigue. The Clansman exploits this weakness, landing a hard blow upon the warrior. (4 hp damage)

Aside from that, the area begins to quiet down, an eerie feeling. There are four held Clansmen, bleeding to death in their frozen positions; another unconscious on the ground at Skandor's feet; another two fleeing off to the north; and four sound asleep by the fire.

The sounds of battle coming from the tent, however, are loud and clear. The Clansman (not Nalpac) fighting Canter--who managed to evade the iceballs for the moment--presses his attack. Canter is still reeling from the impact of the hailstones, and is unable to fend off the blow, taking the hit hard and stumbling backwards. He can taste his own blood in his mouth and begins to wonder if retreat isn't such a bad idea! (5 hp damage)

The other Clansman attacking Storm (not Slint) continues his advance as well, taking advantage of the dwarf's momentary disorientation from the hailstorm overhead. He lashes out at Storm, but the dwarf sees the blades coming. With an agile duck and roll, he evades the attack--but just barely.

Storm is not so lucky, however, when he comes up from the roll to face Nalpac. Having left Canter to be dealt with by the reinforcement, Bernigan's sidekick rips into Storm's leather armor, tearing a long hole in the chest and lascerating Storm at the same time. (6 hp damage)

Slint, smiling as he sees his friend Nalpac rip into the dwarf, decides to retreat. He pulls himself away, struggling to do his best to avoid the hailstorm continuing above. His eyes also look to Bernigan just in time to witness him attack Hannibal and hit the thief with great force. Hannibal is thrown back into what remains of the tent wall, a huge slice in his stomach open and bleeding. (7 hp damage)

Skandor looks around, relieved at the moment that their side of the battle appears to be under control. Then his gaze lands on Delk just in time to see the dwarf get struck again by his enemy's blade. Deciding that the dwarven representative would best not be slain under the auspices of Rinder's Six, he rushes toward Delk, leaving the unconscious Clansman in the grass behind him. Arriving at Delk's position, Skandor attacks the Clansman from behind. The attack is good, and his massive sword screams through the air and slams into the man's back. His spine is instantly cracked and broken, his head and neck flung forward with the impact. He falls at Skandor's feet in a dead heap, and the paladin's eyes meet with those of Delk.

"I thank ye," Delk says, out of breath, "ye be a good warrior, and welcome in the Warhammer Brigade." With those words, Delk shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts and look over the rest of the battlefield.

El flies toward the tent. He can feel his breath coming in shorter gasps as he closes the distance. He dodges around the sleeping and dying clansmen, feeling a thread of panic sink into his stomach at the thought of one his new comrades meeting untimely death.

Seeing the fleet-footed elf dart over the hill and toward the campsite, Emma pauses to glance back over her shoulder. The grisly sight of the three mortally wounded prisoners greets her. The priestess' eyes widen and she glances toward Skandor as he finishes the battle as well. Then she turns to look in the direction Elloharin ran, his form quickly swallowed in the darkness, but occasionally back-lit against the campfires in the distance.

Her heart sinks and the broadsword in her hand suddenly feels very heavy. Throwing down the weapon, she runs to the side of the Clansmen and calls upon her god's powers to undo Elloharin's handiwork by healing them as quickly as possible.

Alara turns to watch Emma running towards the clansmen, when she realizes what she's about to do she shouts at the priestess. "What're you doing?! Don't waste your spells on them...there are still clansmen we can take prisoner and question...leave them, save your spells for your comrades who will need them if we get out of this mess."

But Emma ignores Alara's words. The girl would not understand. These men deserve their fate, but death was not meant to be their fate tonight, Emma believes. She concentrates her healing power, casting Cure Light wounds on the first of three, she can feel the life force return to the man, though just barely.

As El gets to the tent, he slips in through the front, nearly stumbling over the body of Slint as he tries to retreat. Not recognizing the man, El immediately pounces with his sword. Slint is not a difficult target--he had been crawling--and soon El's sword has pierced the man's neck and met with the cold icy earth beneath. With that, Slint lies there, pinned to the ground and bleeding to his death.

Alara quickly turns her attention on the surrendered, and now knocked-out, Clansman. Reaching into Emma's backpack without a second thought, she grabs the coil of hemp rope, cutting off enough to bind the unconscious enemy. Looking to the sleeping men by the fire, she begins to move in their direction, intending to do the same. 'If Emma is going to waste her time with the dead ones,' Alara thinks, 'at least I'll bind the living ones for our witnesses.'

Meanwhile, back in the tent, Storm is not yet aware that his long-time enemy is dying at Elloharin's feet. Unaware of this, the dwarf unleashes his fury at the man who has just struck him--Nalpac. Leaping weakly toward this foe, Storm strikes, hitting Nalpac with effort. Nalpac is stunned by the blow, and begins to look around, perhaps for a mode of escape.

Seeing Storm go for Nalpac, Hannibal recognizes that the other Clansman attacking the dwarf would probably move in for a good shot. And seeing that he had just hit Bernigan quite hard with his dagger, Hannibal decides to cover his friend, and so attacks that Clanman, occupying him and keeping him away from the dwarf's back. The attack is blocked, but then a large hailstone tears through the tent above, striking the Clansman directly on top of the head. Blood is splattered across Hannibal's face, but the stone's impact is enough to fell the enemy before him.

Looking around the scene, Nalpac soon finds himself victim of Crayne's hailstorm as well. His eyes wander the tent, looking over the carnage and desperately seeking an opening. But his eyes fall on Canter just as two large balls of ice stream into his upper back. The impact sends him falling forward, two large wounds on his back. It is just too much for him to handle, and he is dead as he hits the ground.

Elloharin finishes driving his sword through Slint's neck just as a hailstone strikes his shoulder, tearing open a wound down his arm. He screams with the pain, falling to the side and yelling to his comrades: "We must retreat. We cannot stay here any longer!" (8 hp damage)

Bernigan, too, is struck by a ball of ice as it flies through the open top of the tent. It hits the diplomat in the back of the leg, tearing a chunk of his flesh clear off his calf. Bernigan wails in pain as he lands on the ground, clutching his leg. Then his screaming stops as he clutches his chest, the wound Hannibal had inflicted just moments before with his dagger. The diplomat falls strangely silent and in moments ceases to move at all.

"Crayne!" Karelth screams to his now-visible nephew over the screeching of the hailstones, "You must stop this thing before it tears your friends limb from limb!"

"Okay!" Crayne replies at the top of his voice, straining against the sheer power of the ring on his finger. "I shall try!"

Canter approaches his foe, the Clansman meant to finish him off after Nalpac. This was the last one remaining standing. The hailstones plummet to the ground all around, and the leatherman's son knows that he has only seconds before another one of the ice balls hits him, and very possibly kills him. Lunging forward, his sword meets with the Clanman's chest just as one of those ice balls lands at the same spot. The combined blow sends the man flying backwards, ripping through the wall of the tent, dead before he hits the ground outside.

"Emma!" Alara screams as she looks ahead of her. She is just finishing binding the last of the sleeping Clansmen when she notices. She had looked up because the sound of battle coming from the tent had changed. It was no longer the clashing of swords but the sound of projectiles streaking through the air. Then she sees it, the cloud of hailstone raining down frozen terror over the area of the tents, including the one that her friends were in!

She watches as Canter's last foe is thrown from the tent, and through the gaping hole in the canvas, she can see Canter struck in the back by one of the stones. He falls forward, spitting blood as he does. He lands on his stomach, hand outstretched and eyes on Alara's face. Behind him she can see Hannibal and Storm just barely hanging on.

"Emma! We must get to them!"

Emma turns around, having just completed her healing spell on the first of the three Held, dead and dying Clansmen. She hears Alara's screams and knows that something is very wrong. Squinting her eyes and running to Alara's side, she calls to Skandor on the way, "Sword Bearer!"

Skandor's ears pick up on Emma's call and he is immediately tuned in. He nods to Delk and then grips his sword, running full speed alongside the priestess. Then, along with Alara, they approach the tent and enter the hailstorm.

"Stop it!!" Karelth squeals to Crayne.

"I am trying!!" Crayne replies, annoyed at the constant interruption but also genuinely concerned. He had gotten a spectacular response from the ring, but its effects were indiscriminate and were now going to kill his friends!

Running through the hailstorm, Emma, Alara, and Skandor reach their friends. Emma grabs Hannibal by the arms, dragging him away from the tent and toward the fire. She is struck by a hailstone in the process, but ignores the pain as she concentrates on getting her friends away from the danger. (10 hp damage)

Skandor grabs Storm, lifting the dwarf half off the ground with his left hand. As he turns to retreat back toward the fire, a ball of ice raining down from the sky strikes the paladin in the chest. The pain is nearly unbearable, and Skandor lets out a cry of terror with the impact. It is so cold and painful it burns! (11 hp damage) But he clenches his teeth and keeps going, grabbing the back of Elloharin's shirt with his other hand and dragging the two away from the scene.

Alara focusses only on Canter, hoping she can get to his side before that last look in her direction becomes his last look, ever. She arrives at his side, huffing and puffing. "Are you alright?!" she screams over the noise of Crayne's storm.

"Yeah! I..." Canter replies weakly, fading in and out of consciousness.

Not bothering to talk anymore, Alara reaches for Canter. Her arm is struck midway by a large frozen hailstone, tearing open a huge wound just above the wrist. (12 hp damage) Alara shrieks with the hit, her arm stinging as the wound is exposed to the winter's air. Clutching the wounded arm to her stomach, she reaches out with the other, grabbing Canter by the shoulder, and drags him to safety.

Just as she arrives by the fire, and safely outside the range of the massive hailstorm, the raining frozen terror stops.

Letting out a gasp of air, Crayne exclaims, "I've done it!"

And then a cold silence falls over the camp. Only the occasional crackling of the bonfire pierces the silence of the night.

1. HP status: Canter: 3/36, Alara: 13/26, Crayne: 15/15 + 6 Armor, Elloharin: 5/19, Emma: 19/35, Hannibal: 5/21, Skandor: 6/17, Storm: 4/40, Karelth: 11/11 (!!), Delk: 16/38

2. The aftermath:

The battle is over. The hailstorm is ended. The horses are long since gone. The tents are torn to shreds. The four sleeping Clansmen are beginning to stir, and so is the one who Emma ordered to surrender and whom Skandor knocked out. But thanks to Alara and Emma's rope, all five are bound and are not going anywhere. Two other Clansmen have fled to the north as a result of Emma's Dictate Spell.

One of the Clansmen frozen by Emma's Hold Person spell has been restored to 1 hp. But in leaving the others to save Hannibal from the hailstorm, the other two have not been saved. The Hold Person spell will wear off momentarily.

Slint is dead, pinned to the cold earth at what was once the entrance to the tent, with Elloharin's blade standing up vertically through his neck.

Nalpac is dead.

Bernigan is dead, curled up in a fetal position on the floor of the tent, clutching his leg and chest.

Canter, Alara, Elloharin, Emma, Hannibal, Skandor, Storm, and Delk are now sitting, lying and standing near the fire in the center of the dead camp. Crayne and Karelth are still on the outskirts to the west.

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