Ancient Patrol - Revision history

HOUND at 23:42, 13 May 2024

2024-05-13T23:42:15Z

Possum at 14:36, 30 November 2023

2023-11-30T14:36:42Z

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Eldritch Fuckwit: Just a lot of minor grammar adjustments made.

2023-11-21T09:54:55Z

Just a lot of minor grammar adjustments made.

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Possum at 13:28, 16 October 2023

2023-10-16T13:28:10Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 09:28, 16 October 2023
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	Small gardens hidden in groves, ornaments of some significance built to hide among the trees, pathways that could not be mere animal trails. The ogres rumbled of magic in the air, not of runes and steel but animus that they could not easily bend. Some even chuckled, calling it primitive and pathetic. Donovan was not so sure, a glance shared with Lannister confirmed his suspicion. The trails and signs were likely alarms, magical wards and potentially even traps. The trails must have been between villages, perhaps elves and their plant-like abominations did not leave tracks. Perhaps they walked single file, hundreds of soldiers stepping into the same set of footprints, gnoll tribals did that to disguise how many their war parties numbered. So much was left up in the air and Donovan could only privately scowl at how unprepared they were walking into enemy territory with no intel.		Small gardens hidden in groves, ornaments of some significance built to hide among the trees, pathways that could not be mere animal trails. The ogres rumbled of magic in the air, not of runes and steel but animus that they could not easily bend. Some even chuckled, calling it primitive and pathetic. Donovan was not so sure, a glance shared with Lannister confirmed his suspicion. The trails and signs were likely alarms, magical wards and potentially even traps. The trails must have been between villages, perhaps elves and their plant-like abominations did not leave tracks. Perhaps they walked single file, hundreds of soldiers stepping into the same set of footprints, gnoll tribals did that to disguise how many their war parties numbered. So much was left up in the air and Donovan could only privately scowl at how unprepared they were walking into enemy territory with no intel.

	When the first report from forward scouts noted they arrived at an elven town their immediate reaction was forming a defensive line as quietly as possible, keeping the ogres and golems back to avoid making noise and rubbing oil upon their iron and steel to avoid even the chance that a glint from sunlight would reveal their position. The first town contained just what Donovan had feared, ~~fae, the rumored slaves of elves~~. In a way he had thought that perhaps they ~~could be liberated, free them~~ and ~~send them towards~~ the ~~federation line to be reassimilated~~, but orders contradicted this. The patrol was commanded to destroy any town they came across, even civilian targets. Donovan wished it would have been a hard choice, that he might have hesitated when his men looked at him for orders. Part of him wondered what he was doing but most of him knew that if he lived through this, he would regret his choice for the rest of his life.		When the first report from forward scouts noted they arrived at an elven town their immediate reaction was forming a defensive line as quietly as possible, keeping the ogres and golems back to avoid making noise and rubbing oil upon their iron and steel to avoid even the chance that a glint from sunlight would reveal their position. The first town contained just what Donovan had feared, civilian targets. In a way he had thought that perhaps they merely hit the infrastructure and spare the non-combatants, but orders contradicted this. The patrol was commanded to destroy any town they came across, even civilian targets. Donovan wished it would have been a hard choice, that he might have hesitated when his men looked at him for orders. Part of him wondered what he was doing but most of him knew that if he lived through this, he would regret his choice for the rest of his life.

	He ordered the attack, the golems stomping towards the front and breaching the tree line before opening with a salvo of fireballs from their mounted guns. The buildings were tree-like, appearing like massive tree stumps hollowed out and made into quaint little homes. They burned easily and well. What passed for defenders, as they seemed unprotected by their elven masters, were mowed down by rifle fire. Most tried to flee and none managed to escape as far as Donovan saw. It was grim work, work that nearly everyone knew was cruel, if not outright evil, but they carried out their orders because they were all good soldiers who understood why they had to. Donovan made to attempt to study or see what his patrol was destroying, buildings were torched without being searched, structures razed, and no prisoners taken. Only one person caused a problem during it all. An orc who laughed as he shot a ~~satyr~~ in the back, taking bloody glee in his work. Donovan ordered him to stop laughing and the orc asked why. Donovan pulled his revolver and shot him dead on the spot. Nobody said anything, Lannister gave an approving nod and the slaughter continued. Nobody would make light of what they were doing under Donovan’s watch. The next four towns proved as simple as the first one. Their bloody swathe did not stop until they finally reached what they assumed as a military outpost. Two large tree trunk buildings and one smaller shed-like structure surrounded by terrain of brambles and walls of thorns past its one trail leading in.		He ordered the attack, the golems stomping towards the front and breaching the tree line before opening with a salvo of fireballs from their mounted guns. The buildings were tree-like, appearing like massive tree stumps hollowed out and made into quaint little homes. They burned easily and well. What passed for defenders, as they seemed unprotected by their elven masters, were mowed down by rifle fire. Most tried to flee and none managed to escape as far as Donovan saw. It was grim work, work that nearly everyone knew was cruel, if not outright evil, but they carried out their orders because they were all good soldiers who understood why they had to. Donovan made to attempt to study or see what his patrol was destroying, buildings were torched without being searched, structures razed, and no prisoners taken. Only one person caused a problem during it all. An orc who laughed as he shot a fleeing elf in the back, taking bloody glee in his work. Donovan ordered him to stop laughing and the orc asked why. Donovan pulled his revolver and shot him dead on the spot. Nobody said anything, Lannister gave an approving nod and the slaughter continued. Nobody would make light of what they were doing under Donovan’s watch. The next four towns proved as simple as the first one. Their bloody swathe did not stop until they finally reached what they assumed as a military outpost. Two large tree trunk buildings and one smaller shed-like structure surrounded by terrain of brambles and walls of thorns past its one trail leading in.

	Donovan gave no orders beyond take the outpost, he did not need to, this was a squad of veterans and within moments the place was approached, searched, and taken. What they presumed was an office was empty of life and contained only a few crates and storage, what they thought were the main warehouses offered only a baffling sight of indoor gardens. The floor was rows of dirt with no actual flooring, empty plots of plants and scattered bones among the withered old detritus of weeds. A small artificial light floated in the center of each plot, suspended by magic and bathing the room. Several speculated about what it could mean as Donovan ordered defensive positions to be hastily erected around them and scouts to look for encroaching enemies. He was positive they were being surrounded even as he gave the order for everyone to look alert but not as if they knew an attack was immediate. It allowed them time to better prepare.		Donovan gave no orders beyond take the outpost, he did not need to, this was a squad of veterans and within moments the place was approached, searched, and taken. What they presumed was an office was empty of life and contained only a few crates and storage, what they thought were the main warehouses offered only a baffling sight of indoor gardens. The floor was rows of dirt with no actual flooring, empty plots of plants and scattered bones among the withered old detritus of weeds. A small artificial light floated in the center of each plot, suspended by magic and bathing the room. Several speculated about what it could mean as Donovan ordered defensive positions to be hastily erected around them and scouts to look for encroaching enemies. He was positive they were being surrounded even as he gave the order for everyone to look alert but not as if they knew an attack was immediate. It allowed them time to better prepare.

Possum at 16:05, 14 September 2023

2023-09-14T16:05:34Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 12:05, 14 September 2023
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	~~=WIP=~~
	When war had first greeted the united empires of the known world at the hands of the elves life began to change rapidly for everyone. War created a necessity for innovation, a churning industry of materials and weaponry determined by logistical masters to move across the world by train to be deployed by the combined might of the empire and federation on the new front lines. Plans far vaster and more complicated than any one man could truly grasp darkened the minds of men and with it the common man paid in blood. War had changed. Centuries of peace had made men forget the depravity of conflict and it was only now that they were forced to remember.		When war had first greeted the united empires of the known world at the hands of the elves life began to change rapidly for everyone. War created a necessity for innovation, a churning industry of materials and weaponry determined by logistical masters to move across the world by train to be deployed by the combined might of the empire and federation on the new front lines. Plans far vaster and more complicated than any one man could truly grasp darkened the minds of men and with it the common man paid in blood. War had changed. Centuries of peace had made men forget the depravity of conflict and it was only now that they were forced to remember.

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	As commander Donovan succumbed to his injuries, leadership fell to the next ranking officer still alive. A rodentfolk by the name of Sergei. The graying rat man yelled that the commander had fallen, issued out new orders and demanded all reserves be put to use, all the ammo, all the remaining grenades. Everything they had. Sergei rallied the rest as he shouted his orders and his double-action revolvers claimed elven life after life without pause. In his day, Sergei might have been a lord himself, a gunslinger without equal who began his life as a side show performer before joining the military. He had settled down later on to become a family man, not pursuing greatness as he could have. Yet it was because of his sons that he was even here. His three eldest sons were old enough to have joined the ancient patrol but instead he forbade it. They had legacies still and Sergei knew his time was coming to an end. He took his son’s ammo and made a promise that every creature that came into his sights would die, that as patriarch he would claim a life for every single bullet his sons gave him.		As commander Donovan succumbed to his injuries, leadership fell to the next ranking officer still alive. A rodentfolk by the name of Sergei. The graying rat man yelled that the commander had fallen, issued out new orders and demanded all reserves be put to use, all the ammo, all the remaining grenades. Everything they had. Sergei rallied the rest as he shouted his orders and his double-action revolvers claimed elven life after life without pause. In his day, Sergei might have been a lord himself, a gunslinger without equal who began his life as a side show performer before joining the military. He had settled down later on to become a family man, not pursuing greatness as he could have. Yet it was because of his sons that he was even here. His three eldest sons were old enough to have joined the ancient patrol but instead he forbade it. They had legacies still and Sergei knew his time was coming to an end. He took his son’s ammo and made a promise that every creature that came into his sights would die, that as patriarch he would claim a life for every single bullet his sons gave him.

	So far, he had held up his vow, his expensive revolvers dropped twelve elves with clean head shots. Cylinders popped and Sergei slammed his well-oiled guns together, the cartridges ~~popping~~ free before tossing one gun in the air with a flourish. A speed loader flashed, refilling the revolver he still held before it was thrown into the air and the second was caught and loaded. The whole process took less than two seconds, the fastest hands this side of the federation from an old man who knew how to juggle and made a fancy trick an effective means of dealing death. Twelve more down, the last one winged and staggered before Sergei tossed a knife from his belt to end the struggling beast. He almost laughed to himself, because he knew when he met his sons in the afterlife he would still count that one. He held everyone together as Donovan did until his ammo ran dry, over two hundred magnum rounds and two hundred confirmed kills. His duty fulfilled, Sergei was slain when he was overwhelmed in melee, his last thoughts only of his oath fulfilled and his paternal pride. He would meet his son at Baitaal’s gates in triumph, even as the world went dark.		So far, he had held up his vow, his expensive revolvers dropped twelve elves with clean head shots. Cylinders popped and Sergei slammed his well-oiled guns together, the cartridges sliding free before tossing one gun in the air with a flourish. A speed loader flashed, refilling the revolver he still held before it was thrown into the air and the second was caught and loaded. The whole process took less than two seconds, the fastest hands this side of the federation from an old man who knew how to juggle and made a fancy trick an effective means of dealing death. Twelve more down, the last one winged and staggered before Sergei tossed a knife from his belt to end the struggling beast. He almost laughed to himself, because he knew when he met his sons in the afterlife he would still count that one. He held everyone together as Donovan did until his ammo ran dry, over two hundred magnum rounds and two hundred confirmed kills. His duty fulfilled, Sergei was slain when he was overwhelmed in melee, his last thoughts only of his oath fulfilled and his paternal pride. He would meet his son at Baitaal’s gates in triumph, even as the world went dark.

	Next in line was Olga, a lagus psion, a woman who had not ever wanted to be here. A victim of noble squabbling and political maneuvers within her clan. She had fallen out of favor and was volunteered for this mission against her will. Forced into this, she still represented everything her clan prided itself on. Her specialty was pyromancy. She was a living conduit of fire and when Sergei fell she took command, her orders spoken with the hatred she felt. Yet, when the moment came, she saw one of the golems being overwhelmed and acted without a second thought. She leaped into the mob surrounding the ~~golems~~, everything in her psychic might coalescing within her hands before she landed among the enemy. Her last thoughts were bitter as she brought the two blazing orbs together, her heart filled only with hate as the inferno claimed her and the mob in the blast.		Next in line was Olga, a lagus psion, a woman who had not ever wanted to be here. A victim of noble squabbling and political maneuvers within her clan. She had fallen out of favor and was volunteered for this mission against her will. Forced into this, she still represented everything her clan prided itself on. Her specialty was pyromancy. She was a living conduit of fire and when Sergei fell she took command, her orders spoken with the hatred she felt. Yet, when the moment came, she saw one of the golems being overwhelmed and acted without a second thought. She leaped into the mob surrounding the titan, everything in her psychic might coalescing within her hands as globes of fire before she landed among the enemy. Her last thoughts were bitter as she brought the two blazing orbs together, her heart filled only with hate as the inferno claimed her and the mob in the blast.

	There were no more ranking officers now, the rest had been killed or lay bleeding to death on the ground. The three golems and most of the ogres were the only point of rally now, the original battle mages were members of a fraternal order of brothers, mages devoted to the empire and the sons of Baitaal. They had come here to die, seeing themselves as beyond their prime and wishing to give their order a memory in the legend that would be the ancient patrol. To them this was almost a game, fed by each other's magical auras and good cheer, they sang their spells. They spoke well of those that fell, they insulted their enemy and laughed as death was dealt by their blades and magic. The first of their order to fall was one of the knights, overwhelmed by an a second ent that sent the hulking ogre lifelessly tumbling into the ground before his brothers descended upon the plant-like creature and pummeled it into a pile of gore. They shouted their fallen members name, sang of what had made him their valued brother, their infectious cheer bolstering the tired defenders who relied on the ogres to keep them healed and alive. But with the death of one, a domino effect happened, each ogre dying lead to the remaining losing the bolstering effect that individual had. One by one, each titan tumbled to the ground until the remaining two called for the rest to retreat to the warehouse.		There were no more ranking officers now, the rest had been killed or lay bleeding to death on the ground. The three golems and most of the ogres were the only point of rally now, the original battle mages were members of a fraternal order of brothers, mages devoted to the empire and the sons of Baitaal. They had come here to die, seeing themselves as beyond their prime and wishing to give their order a memory in the legend that would be the ancient patrol. To them this was almost a game, fed by each other's magical auras and good cheer, they sang their spells. They spoke well of those that fell, they insulted their enemy and laughed as death was dealt by their blades and magic. The first of their order to fall was one of the knights, overwhelmed by an a second ent that sent the hulking ogre lifelessly tumbling into the ground before his brothers descended upon the plant-like creature and pummeled it into a pile of gore. They shouted their fallen members name, sang of what had made him their valued brother, their infectious cheer bolstering the tired defenders who relied on the ogres to keep them healed and alive. But with the death of one, a domino effect happened, each ogre dying lead to the remaining losing the bolstering effect that individual had. One by one, each titan tumbled to the ground until the remaining two called for the rest to retreat to the warehouse.
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	The good cheer and singing were gone as what remained of the ancient patrol fled into the warehouse, their retreat covered by the two ogres and three remaining golems. They hoped to bottleneck the elves through the doorway of the sturdy building but by then it did little to help. With the last two ogres falling they had lost what magical healing and enchantments they had left. Even with the golems interlocking shields and fighting side by side elves still slipped past, every wound now mounted and more were dying. The building had no windows, the elves stalled while they blasted the walls with spells to create new openings. The golems could not cover every newly opened portal and soon the ancient patrol had dwindled down to just the three pilots and one man. An ordinary human, a man like Donovan, bloody and long since out of ammo. He managed to drive his blade into three of the elves that tackled him to the ground before he was stabbed to death. With no one left to defend two of the golem pilots, brothers in fact, had long since planned their own merciful deaths. They diverted every rune from weapons and shields back into their mana battery, the golems charging into the crowded throng of elves while their power cells overloaded and went critical. The pilots ejected; their coats lined with stacks upon stacks of grenades that only added to the explosion. The whole building came down, a deafening explosion that killed nearly every elf in the clearing and left naught but rubble and a massive crater.		The good cheer and singing were gone as what remained of the ancient patrol fled into the warehouse, their retreat covered by the two ogres and three remaining golems. They hoped to bottleneck the elves through the doorway of the sturdy building but by then it did little to help. With the last two ogres falling they had lost what magical healing and enchantments they had left. Even with the golems interlocking shields and fighting side by side elves still slipped past, every wound now mounted and more were dying. The building had no windows, the elves stalled while they blasted the walls with spells to create new openings. The golems could not cover every newly opened portal and soon the ancient patrol had dwindled down to just the three pilots and one man. An ordinary human, a man like Donovan, bloody and long since out of ammo. He managed to drive his blade into three of the elves that tackled him to the ground before he was stabbed to death. With no one left to defend two of the golem pilots, brothers in fact, had long since planned their own merciful deaths. They diverted every rune from weapons and shields back into their mana battery, the golems charging into the crowded throng of elves while their power cells overloaded and went critical. The pilots ejected; their coats lined with stacks upon stacks of grenades that only added to the explosion. The whole building came down, a deafening explosion that killed nearly every elf in the clearing and left naught but rubble and a massive crater.

	Lannister had witnessed it all, defying his orders and remaining to survey the ~~battle~~ from afar. The chosen scout watched as the final golem, the last pilot that had survived the suicidal blast of his fellows hauled himself from the rubble and crater. Lannister watched as the golem's runes flickered to life, the pilot readying to continue fighting until he was finally taken down rather than flee. ~~Then~~ he turned away and began loping through the forest to deliver his report of what happened to only expedition into elven lands. His tale became a legend, the names of all those who died here remembered for centuries.		-

			From his perch well beyond the battlefield Lannister had witnessed it all through the scope of his rifle, defying his orders and remaining to survey the end of the ancient patrol from afar. The chosen scout watched as the final golem, the last pilot that had survived the suicidal blast of his fellows hauled himself from the rubble and crater. Lannister watched as the golem's runes flickered to life, the pilot readying to continue fighting until he was finally taken down rather than flee. Lannister sighed, feeling it both foolish but still his heart felt respect for the man's last rampage before he turned away and began loping through the forest to deliver his report of what happened to only expedition into elven lands. His tale became a legend, the names of all those who died here remembered for centuries and a monument built to their sacrifice.

	[[Category: Lore]]		[[Category: Lore]]

Possum at 15:00, 14 September 2023

2023-09-14T15:00:43Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 11:00, 14 September 2023
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	Lannister had witnessed it all, defying his orders and remaining to survey the battle from afar. The chosen scout watched as the final golem, the last pilot that had survived the suicidal blast of his fellows hauled himself from the rubble and crater. Lannister watched as the golem's runes flickered to life, the pilot readying to continue fighting until he was finally taken down rather than flee. Then he turned away and began loping through the forest to deliver his report of what happened to only expedition into elven lands. His tale became a legend, the names of all those who died here remembered for centuries.		Lannister had witnessed it all, defying his orders and remaining to survey the battle from afar. The chosen scout watched as the final golem, the last pilot that had survived the suicidal blast of his fellows hauled himself from the rubble and crater. Lannister watched as the golem's runes flickered to life, the pilot readying to continue fighting until he was finally taken down rather than flee. Then he turned away and began loping through the forest to deliver his report of what happened to only expedition into elven lands. His tale became a legend, the names of all those who died here remembered for centuries.

	[[Category: ~~Roles~~]]		[[Category: Lore]]

Possum at 14:37, 14 September 2023

2023-09-14T14:37:34Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 10:37, 14 September 2023
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	Lannister had witnessed it all, defying his orders and remaining to survey the battle from afar. The chosen scout watched as the final golem, the last pilot that had survived the suicidal blast of his fellows hauled himself from the rubble and crater. Lannister watched as the golem's runes flickered to life, the pilot readying to continue fighting until he was finally taken down rather than flee. Then he turned away and began loping through the forest to deliver his report of what happened to only expedition into elven lands. His tale became a legend, the names of all those who died here remembered for centuries.		Lannister had witnessed it all, defying his orders and remaining to survey the battle from afar. The chosen scout watched as the final golem, the last pilot that had survived the suicidal blast of his fellows hauled himself from the rubble and crater. Lannister watched as the golem's runes flickered to life, the pilot readying to continue fighting until he was finally taken down rather than flee. Then he turned away and began loping through the forest to deliver his report of what happened to only expedition into elven lands. His tale became a legend, the names of all those who died here remembered for centuries.

			[[Category: Roles]]

Possum at 16:16, 31 August 2023

2023-08-31T16:16:08Z

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Possum: Created page with "=WIP= When war had first greeted the united empires of the known world at the hands of the elves life began to change rapidly for everyone. War created a necessity for innovation, a churning industry of materials and weaponry determined by logistical masters to move across the world by train to be deployed by the combined might of the empire and federation on the new front lines. Plans far vaster and more complicated than any one man could truly grasp darkened the minds..."

2023-08-30T18:07:28Z

Created page with "=WIP= When war had first greeted the united empires of the known world at the hands of the elves life began to change rapidly for everyone. War created a necessity for innovation, a churning industry of materials and weaponry determined by logistical masters to move across the world by train to be deployed by the combined might of the empire and federation on the new front lines. Plans far vaster and more complicated than any one man could truly grasp darkened the minds..."

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