Classic-Castle Roleplay: October

[The Green Knight]

War is a gruesome thing. You may have seen some gruesome things, maybe even some gruesome people. But what ever you may have seen, it still wouldn't compare to the gruesome carnage of that battle for the gates of Orion.

War is a gruesome thing.
Marus knew this. He had even been labeled gruesome several times himself. And it was true. His battalion had moved to the front of the battle. Indeed, Marus found himself quite enjoying the fight as he cut down old acquaintances. Several of whom had looked down on him back in the day. His enjoyment, however, was greatly diminished by the presence of the dragons. Fireballs were flying everywhere. Marus was amazed that he hadn't been hit already, by the flying serpents. The troops were loosing ground. The red cross knights were regrouping and the allie's airship was being harassed by the dragons. As Marus looked to the sky he glimpsed the Arklyndelys Vulondur as it hurtled madly through the sky, hitting dragons with both it's ballistae and it's hull.

In the pilot's seat, Lord Void wheeled the controls in a mad frenzy. Several dragons had been taken out by the airships endeavors, but the result was the loss of five ballistae. Only one was left. The archers below were attacking the dragons as well. But their efforts were rewarded mostly, with fiery death from above.

The allies were loosing ground. Between the fire from above and the charge of the red cross knights, it was only desperation that kept them from retreat. Suddenly another airship appeared above the battle field. For a second, the eyes of Aezazel and Lord Void met. It was the last straw. Dragons, knights and the impenetrable walls of Orion had been coped with by the ranks of the just. But this... This was too much. Despair took the men on board the battered Arklyndelys Vulondur.

But fate had another twist in store. Out of the sky, out of the very sun it seemed, came another dragon. It flew through the flock of surprised dragons and it's presence quelled their fires. The whole of the two armies seemed to feel it and stopped for a moment, gazing upward. Then, with an ear piercing cry, the dragon gave it's orders and the tide of the battle turned.

No man could hold sway over any dragon then. And every live dragon, manned or unmanned, flew to the orders of Coal Blood. Into the streets of the city, ran the troops of the enemy. Those defending the walls were thrown down and the whole of BloodVaine's army retreated to the Yellow Castle. The gates of Orion had been won, but at a terrible cost. Forestmen, Bulls, Dark Forest rangers, and members of the Wolfpack, alike had fallen under the hoofs of the knights, the bows of the guards and the fire of the dragons. The dead and wounded were innumerable and the airship was badly damaged.

But the battle was far from over.

[Jack Craft]

J-10
Orion Gate battle

"A casualty! What did Mr. Craft say to do?..."

Green Fox, barely awake, grabbed at his broken leg.

"I know! It's a... dislocated leg..."

"But I don't know what to do about that!"

"Me neither!"

One of them grabbed a long-shafted spear and handed it to him.

"Here,use this to stay up. I'll fetch someone else!

They ran off.

The Dragon Masters crashed into the Dark Forestmen, who had no weapons of any use. Within a minute, they were all dead. Green Fox lay on the other side of the hill. His heart was pumping.

He reached for his spear and drew his knife...

As he put his weight on his injured leg, the world suddenly turned red and spun away from him. He tottered forward, just managing to catch himself on his good knee and avoiding further injury. Off to his far left, the upper two-thirds of a Dark Forestman crawled for a few feet, dragging himself by his arms. The Green Fox looked away from the trail the forestman left in the dirt, some of which had been inside him moments ago. When he looked back a few seconds later, the Forestman was face-down, as still as a stone.

Someone was screaming a prayer off beyond the next hill. It hung in the wind like the carrion birds that wheeled above the battle, then was cut off with a gurgle. In the distance, metal clanged, sword on sword, on shield, on armor, on bone.

This was a mistake. I should never have come.

He retched again, partially from the pain of his leg, but found his stomach empty. His sword lay on the ground beside his good leg. When had he dropped it? He couldn't recall. When he reached to take it up again, the grinding in his injured limb was too much. He blacked out momentarily.

"Fox! Don't you dare bloody drop dead on Jack, you old cutpurse."

Jack was helping him to lie down, and though the blur of pain he saw one of the younger forestmen who had been here before. The forestman's kelly green jerkin bore a visible handprint of smeared red-brown on it, and the Fox couldn't help but wonder who it had belonged to. Jack's hands were stained the same color, up past the wrists by now.

"Brix and blox, you're lucky to still be conscious-- this old fish-fin of yours is nearly snapped in two. Hold still, blast ye! Or you're likely to lose it altogether!"

"You've... d-done this before, right, Jack?" For some reason, all he could see now was Jack's familiar grin, floating like a sideways crescent moon in front of him

"Well, not on a human, no... Aye. Hang on lad-- this might sting a bit."

The Green Fox felt a twisting pain along the length of his lower leg, and clenched his teeth until they creaked.

"That... wasn't. S-so. Bad."

"Should hope not, since all I was doing was getting your boot off. Now comes the hard part."

A sledgehammer of pain crushed the Green Fox's leg, spine, neck, head. He passed out.

When he woke a short time later, in the shelter of two closely grown trees, his leg had been decently set and splinted, and there was no sign of Jack.

[Formendacil]

The leader of the group, a man of some thirty years of age looked at Randolph suspiciously, squinting at him. After a long pause, he replied. “Drop your weapons then, and I will see what I can do.”
Randolph and the two other men complied.
“Dismount your steeds – our camp is only a mile away.”

"So, you intend to defect from your allegiance?" said Quorandis to Randolph, as they walked together. There was too little time to wait until they reached the camp.

"Yes," replied Randolph. "King Falconis no longer considers the good of his people, only his own good. And we know that in this war, we are on the side of evil."

"Are there many more of you?" asked Quorandis. "Any more men who follow you."

"Not exactly...." said Randolph slowly. "There are many, many men who do not like our king, and many who would be glad to see his overthrow, but there are no other organised rebels that I know of."

"Well, I would have preferred otherwise, but your knights will have to do," said Quorandis. "Do you have a means of distinguishing yourselves from the other Falcons?"

"We have brought red pennants for our lances, to use in such a case," said Randolph. Quorandis shivered a little. Red was one of the colours of the Bulls, the Black Knights, and the Royal Knights, among other countries. All traditional enemies of the Falcons. It was a powerful omen.

"Then get out your pennants, and form up your men," said Quorandis decisively.

"You intend to have us join you in battle?" said Randolph.

"Aye!" replied the Cavalier. "Your countrymen will not likely remain in turmoil much longer. I wish to strike while the iron is still hot. While the footmen and the dragons harry Falconis, our cavalry shall strike with full force. We shall cut down many, it is true, but our main object is to fight our way to the command unit. With luck, you may well be the one to humble your arrogant king. Without Falconis and his chief officers, I think the army will surrender."

"I hope so," said Randolph, not quite so confident. "My men and I will go get ready."

Soon after, even as Falconis was restoring order in the Black Falcon army, the cavalry was ready. They were formed up into three companies: the Club Knights to the right, the Red-Pennant Falcons to the Left, and the two hundred Cavaliers in the centre.

Bernard Quorandis waved in farewell to Elwen, who was standing with Jayko and the Dragon Masters somewhat behind them.

"I'll be back!" he called. Then he dropped his visor, and raised his lance.

"For Empire! For Dametreos! For justice! On CAVALIERS!"

And with a resounding cry, the Imperial Cavaliers, the elite fighting force of Dametreos, charged down the ridge into the Black Falcons below, their allies attacking on either side.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

As Marus looked to the sky he glimpsed the Arklyndelys Vulondur as it hurtled madly through the sky, hitting dragons with both it's ballistae and it's hull. In the pilot's seat, Lord Void wheeled the controls in a mad frenzy. Several dragons had been taken out by the airships endeavors, but the result was the loss of five ballistae. Only one was left. Suddenly another airship appeared above the battle field. For a second, the eyes of Del Grakken and Lord Void met. It was the last straw. Dragons, knights and the impenetrable walls of Orion had been coped with by the ranks of the just. But this... This was too much. Despair took the men on board the battered Arklyndelys Vulondur. The dead and wounded were innumerable and the airship was badly damaged.

Sweat poured from Lord Void's brow as he deftly drove the Arklyndelys Vulondur into a flock of small battle dragons. A sickening crunch shuddered through the hull of the anchient airship as dragon bones were splintered and skulls cracked wide open.

"Soldier, how many bolts do we have left!?" Lord Void shouted at a Fright Knight.

"Less than than twenty, sir, but only one operable ballista!"

Tyco.

"Abandon that balista and arm the men with bows, aim at the airboure dragons only!"

The Fright Knight saluted and departed. Lord Void turned back to the control to stare at the fast-approaching hull of the Dawn of the Ages

"HOLY SON OF A--"

Lord Void pulled the Arklyndelys Vulondur down sharply, attempting to dodge mass of ballista bolts that had been fired from the commandeered LEGOland airship. His manuver mostly failed and the guts of four dozen Fright Knights splattered across the deck as the bolts made mencemeat of the crew. As the Arklyndelys Vulondur did an about turn, Lord Void caught sight of the blocky, bearded features of Del Grakken at the helm. Lord Void had no time to think about revenge, he was two hundred feet above the largest recorded battle in Dametreos and the ensuing air battle would require all of his attention. Fractically he calculated his advantages as the Dawn of the Ages made another pass. The Mana was still minimal, no use there. Only one ballista left, and archers were no good. The Dragon Master's eye danced over the hull of the attacking airship. In that split second, it came to him.

Yes.

The Arklyndelys Vulondur's hull was shapped like a thick knife, it's bow sharpened to slice aerodynamically through the air. The Dawn of the Ages was squat and wide, built to carry vast loads of cargo and people. The Arklyndelys Vulondur was a warship, and the Dawn of the Ages was not. That was Lord Void's advantage.

Without a second thought, Lord Void gunned the Arklyndelys Vulondur and turned face on toward the Dawn of the Ages, steaking through the sky like a Forestman arrow. Del Grakken's eye dilated when he suddenly realised Lord Void's plan.

"He wouldn't." he whispered. He was mistaken. Lord Void would.

Contact between the two remaining airships ever created in Dametreos was nothing like had ever happen before. The Arklyndelys Vulondur split the Dawn of the Ages down the middle like a hunter gutting a deer. Wood screeched in agony and Dragon Masters were flung overboard. The port and starboard side peeled away, exposing the delicate magical subtance that kept the airship afloat.

"Goodbye, Del Grakken." whispered Lord Void. With a flick of his hand, he tapped the small available amount of Mana there was to be had and fired fired the one remaining ballista telekenetically. The bolt flew true, and the world was deafened.

It was later reported that wooden fragments from both the Arklyndelys Vulondur and the Dawn of the Ages had spread as far north as the borders of the Royals, and just a far south. The Allied Army, already inside Orion and protected somewhat by buildings and walls, suffered little, but the Dragon Masters and Calvaliers loyal to BloodVaine were cut down in droves by the splinters. The shock wave also threw all of the dragons save Coal Blood out of the sky, leathery wings torn to shreds. The Battle For Orion's Gate had ended in a victory for the Allied Army, but the final Battle For Dametreos had just begun.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

The gates of Orion had been won, but at a terrible cost.

Bjarn wiped blood from his face and attempted to count the remaining Forestmen, Dark Foresters, Bulls and Wolfpack. What he saw was horribly disheartening. The Bulls had been the hardest hit, there were less than twenty still fighting, Barbod and Dordrot among them, though both were sagging with the agony of their wounds. The Forestmen and the Dark Forest had lost about the same amount of men and there were three hundred of each faction still fit to fight. The Wolfpack had been the best off, waiting until Orion's Gates had opened to join the battle. Now the Wolfpack slipped forward and melted into the deserted city to locate sniper positions on rooftops. The Bulls, Forestmen and Dark Forest followed suit, but stayed near the gates taking as much as a breather as they could.

Suddenly the sky errupted into flame, and the splintered remains of the dueling airships swarmed downward. The Allies dove for cover, but there were casulties. The sacrifice of Lord Void had not been in vain, however, for the remaining troops loyal to BloodVaine outside near the gate perished. Now the Allies could rest, and the Knight Kingdomers and healers could rush forward to sort through the bodies, dead or otherwise.

Bjarn looked about for faces he reconised, and relief sweapt through him as he saw none of his friends had fallen. Yet.
Suddenly he realised that he himself hurt, very much so. Bjarn sheathed his bloodied sword and examined himself. He had many cuts, but what really worried him was his left shoulder. A Dragon Master halberd had come crashing down on it, wrong side down so that the shaft had bounced back and the blade had killed it's own wielder. The blow had broken a bone, but Bjarn could not tell which. No matter. His sword arm still was mostly movable. He would last a while longer.

[Loneranger]

The first 150 horse clashed with the Falcons that were protecting the retreat xarts and men.

Sirions horse was pounding as it drove closer and closer towards the thin line of defence.

Behind him were 200 horses.

“Ahhhhh!!!!!” every Black Knight yelled out.

Falcons started to run away, making the thin line thinner.

Then. The Black Knight's and the Falcons clashed. Quickey the small Falcon line was gone and the Black Knights started to kill whatever was left. Sirion pulled his horse out of battle and rode towards the first battle field. All that lay was a Large Black Knight force that surrounded 4567 Falcons. Finally. The Black Falcons were retreating and the Black Knights had won. Only 10,000 Black Knights were left.


“My Lord!”

“What is it.” Sirion replied back.

“The Black Falcons are in full retreat vut have made a small defence line. We do not now how many men are guirding it. And there are 3000 Black Knights that have finally come to our aid from the near by villages sir. Also. All of the allied factions are battling for the LEGOland castle. But I fear they will be crushed.”

“What men do we have left that are willing to battle.” Sirion asked.

“We will fight to the death for our king. M'lord.” Commander replied.

LR

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

The blow had broken a bone, but Bjarn could not tell which. No matter. His sword arm still was mostly movable. He would last a while longer.

Bjarn's thougthts were interrupted by a shout. Willem, who had taken up watch at the top of a potter's shop, called down urgently.

"Bjarn, Vos, Barbod! 20 score mounted Cross Knights heading this way!"

Bjarn paled. Men he could deal with, they could all deal with. But men on horses was too much.

"Men, regroup and ready spears! Archers, gather in the back and fire at will as soon as the horsemen appear!" Barbod and Vos gave out similar orders, and soon the weary few remainders of the Allied Army prepared for battle."

"Willem!" Bjarn shouted, "Get the tyco outta here! Gather the Wolfpack and try to get into the Yellow Castle. We'll hold as long as we can!"

Willem did not bother to argue. With a swift movement, he gave the Sign of the Elk and dissapeared.

A thundering of hooves suddenly exploded into existance. Traitor Cross Knights mounted on might warhorses turned a corner and pounded toward the meager Forestdwellers and Bulls like a massive and bloody joust. Arrows whirled through the air and ten men fell from their mounts.

"AIM FOR THE HORSES, NOT FOR THE RIDERS!" Bjarn bellowed. The archers obeyed and four horses collasped under their riders. But the knights kept coming.

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!"

Bjarn threw down his bow and whipped out his spear, pointed it upward and forward, bracing it agaist the cobbles of the streets. Bjarn looked up to see a mass of mane and hair blurring his vison, and then his whole world exploded. His spear smashed into the chest of the beast and snaped in two, puncturing the heart and lungs. The momentum kept driving the horse forward, even though it was dead. The rider was flung off and landed hard on the ground. He sprand up and prepared to draw his sword when Bjarn's hatchet split his face open. Bjarn nodded in grim satisfaction and whipped out his sword to duel with another felled Cross Knight. The knight was skilled and Bjarn was growing wearing when suddenly the knight's eyes grew wide and, gurgling feebly, he toppled over dead. Reno withdrew his blade and nodded at Bjarn, then continued battling.

Bjarn engaged another knight, but he again needed the aid of someone else, this time Aros, to fell the knight. I can't take much more of this...

Again the thundering of hooves errupted behind him and he turned, frozen stiff. A long-armed knight with a ball and chain mace was charging straight at him, and Bjarn had not the energy to dodge. The spiked ball itself missed, but the chain hit Bjarn in the legs and with a crack, shattered both of them. Bjarn fell like a log, too weak to scream in agony. The knight dismounted and brought the mace down again, this time on two Bjarn's right hand. The bones were obliterated, the flesh ripped to shreds. The knight was about to bring down the mace in a killing blow when a spinning knife lodged itself in his neck.

With a roar, Rosa, Radjar, Sir Dractor, Graygon, Fraun, Keavur, Derrick, and Caimlin charged into the outer courtyard, followed closely by the bright-pink Dragon Masters. The Cross Knights stared stupidly at the gaudy colors, think a new subfaction of Eastern Knight's Kingdom was attacking. They waited too late to flee and were shredded by the Dragon Master scimitars.

The Dragon Masters formed a circle around the survivors, brandishing weapons menacingly. Rosa, Sir Dractor and Graygon made a beeline to Bjarn, where Reno, Aros and Barbod already were.

"Is he-?" Rosa began.

"No." Reno cut her off.

"Barbod, are there any chariots that can be repaired?"

"There are a few with only missing wheels..." said Barbod doubtfully.

"We're on to it!" said Fraun, and he and Dordrot went to scavenge.

Sir Dractor and Graygon were about to carried Bjarn but Voolmark broke through. "No, don't! You might make something worse. There might be...ah...yes..."

Dispite the small remains of Mana, Voolmark was able to create a simple floatation spell that lifted Bjarn into the air smoothly. In the background Fraun and Dordrot pounded frantically at a almost-repaired Bull chariot.

Radjar, finished with talking to Vos, ran over and paled visibly.

"Oh, tyco...Bjarn..."

Caimlin stood to the side and coughed. "Err..are you all that is left?"

Gerald Vos nodded grimly. "Orion's gate was a death trap. Too many were lost on both sides."

Fraun and Dordrot was finished with the chariot. Muttering softly, Voolmark guided the broken body of Bjarn to the bed of the chariot.

"I'll take him to Shainya and Jack." Reno volunteered. Rosa, Sir Dractor and Voolmark also agreed to go.

"All of you should go back and rest." Caimlin said firmly, "You have battled enough. My Dragon Masters will take care of the rest."

"The Wolfpack are infiltrating Orion as we speak." said Barbod.

"Then I will go too." said Graygon.

"And I." said Radjar, "Vos, lead the remainder of our forces back to camp and stay there."

The parties disperced, Caimlin, the pink Dragon Masters, Graygon, Radjar, Keavur and Derrick into Orion, and remainder of the Forestdwellers and Bulls, Rosa, Sir Dractor, Barbod, Vos, Fraun, Dordrot, Reno, Aros, Voolmark and Bjarn back to the camps.

[Jack Craft]

It was later reported that wooden fragments from both the Arklyndelys Vulondur and the Dawn of the Ages had spread as far north as the borders of the Royals, and just a far south. The Allied Army, already inside Orion and protected somewhat by buildings and walls, suffered little, but the Dragon Masters and Calvaliers loyal to BloodVaine were cut down in droves by the splinters. The shock wave also threw all of the dragons save Coal Blood out of the sky, leathery wings torn to shreds. The Battle For Orion's Gate had ended in a victory for the Allied Army, but the final Battle For Dametreos had just begun.

Grid J-10, Orion

The castle shook. Stones and mortar fell from the ceiling, and the tiny panes of glass in ornamental windows fissured like ice.

Bloodvaine stood in the center of the throne room, his eyes ablaze. Aezezal was staring into space, seeing things beyond the castle walls.

"They have both been destroyed. The Arklyndelys Vulondur and the Dawn of the Ages have destroyed one another. Del Grakken has been killed. Nearly all the dragons as well. The enemy is at the gate, Bloodvaine. And you haven't enough magic to kill a holiday pheasant."

"What do you suggest?" Bloodvaine's voice was shrill, on the sharp edge of madness. "I am ruler of all Dametreos! I will not let them win!"

Below them, the heavy thud of a battering ram struck the outer keep door. It held, for now. Bloodvaine swung to face Aezezal, and for once, even the demon was agast at the look in his eyes.

"I should have thought of it sooner, Aezezal. I will draw mana the way the ancients did. The way the Fright Knights do-- necromancy. Gather everyone in the castle-- servants, the wounded, any soldiers we can spare. Bring them into the main hall. Have a bladesman with a sharp axe ready. As they die, I will draw mana from them! I will gather enough to cast a spell that will crush the enemy as I did the Dragon Master fortress. Quickly! We must prepare!"

Aezezal ran to do the mad sorcerer's bidding.

[lemon_squeezer2]

The scene was one of organized confusion. The Falcons had been rallied, but their confidence was severally shaken. Archers continued to fire from their hiding spots, and although a few were hunted down and killed, the death toll of the Falcons was considerably higher. Only two hundred of the horsemen had regrouped, the rest along with their commander had simply disappeared.

"It's a tyco megablocks ambush!" The king exclaimed. His usually reserved attitude was cast aside and replaced with that of frustration. Turning to Martin, he said "draw the men away. There is a village two miles to the north. From there we can rid ourselves of this nusence."

The Falcons began marching - away from the steep hills to the south and alongside the forest that Falconis had fled to an hour earlier. The dragons had drawn off, and many of the archers had been silenced. The rearguard kept a defensive stance as they continued the march.

Meanwhile, final preparations were being made. The cavilers were still being formed five miles away to the south, and on top of the hills, bands of soldiers waited for the command. When it was given, they broke up into groups of twenty men or so, and made their way carefully down the dirt paths that wound their way through tall grapevines. The fields provided them with security, and many groups came within a few hundred yards of the back line. There they waited for a few moments. They were mixed evenly, archers mixed in with swordsmen. Altogether, the scattered divisions numbered four hundred men.

As soon as it was deemed safe, one of the larger companies broke out, firing a volley of arrows at the back line. Most met their mark, and twenty Falcons dropped dead. A group of some two hundred Falcons broke off, while the rest of the column continued to march. On cue, groups of concealed men broke out, fired their arrows and melted away again. A few did not do this soon enough, and one band was completely overwhelmed. The Falcon's progress slowed to a snails pace as some men attempted to break of and engage the enemy, while others took a defensive stance, forming lines. Without an adequate amount of mounted men to back them up though, the ambushes continued.

Falconis had already reached the mall town when he heard the news.
"Megablocks! Are they such cowards as not to engage us openly! Break five hundred men into a skirmish formation - hunt them down. We are in open land now. Their number cannot be too great."

Meanwhile, the combined force of rebel Falcons and cavilers had begun their charge. At first they went east, passing parallel to the Falcon's original position. The hills lessened, and tuning north, they soon crossed over the road. Skirting the east end of the valley forest, the force came within sight of the harried Falcon lines and the small village where Falconis had made his headquarters. There they stopped for a moment, allowing the horses to catch their breath.

Final thoughts rushed through Randolph's mind. He had instructed his men to kill as few as their comrades as possible, and instead make for the king's guard, made distinguishable by their green attire - the dress worn by only the most elite of Black Falcon troops. Hopefully, the sight of their own countrymen would set them off guard, and make Randolph's job easier. The call for a charge sounded, and the knights - both Falcon and Legolanders some two thousand strong thundered across the two mile stretch that separated them from their target.

[The Green Knight]

The demon was quick in his work and soon all the remaining army was gathered in. Aezazel was making one last sweep of the castle when he was confronted by a man on a dragon.

"Traitor!" Aezazel screamed. But Gart held up his hand in a sign of peace.

"Your ranks are fallen demon, your doom is at hand. But you may yet turn the tide. Take me demon. Use the power of Coal Blood and win the day."

Aezazel contemplated this. A lot of the dragons had been killed in the battle but Aezazel had seen several more during his vision. They were not far off, engaged in a battle with the Black Falcons. So, with a sinister grin and a terrible laugh, he left Gib and entered Gart.

The form of Gib slumped onto the yellow floor, looking for all the world like that of a dead man. But Gart smiled. Even as the demon enveloped his mind in darkness, he thought:

"Enjoy your time while it lasts demon. For at midnight this body will die. You're safe now Gib. You're safe."

And the demon leapt to his new steed and flew into the sky.

[Formendacil]

Grid: J-10
Location: South of Orion, in battle.

The call for a charge sounded, and the knights - both Falcon and Legolanders some two thousand strong thundered across the two mile stretch that separated them from their target.

At the centre of the centre, amidst the Imperial Cavaliers, Bernard Quorandis led the charge into the Falcon ranks. Above and the the sides, the dragons and archers had rebdoubled their attacks. The footmen who were not archers had actually begun to engage the enemy with spear, sword, and axe, and the dragons were no longer just sweeping overhead with blasts of fire, but actually swooping down and slicing, grabbing and smashing Black Falcon soldiers with their armoured maws.

Quorandis hoped that the Falcons would panic, partly to make his job easier, but also so that more would be spared. A lasting peace would be established more easily if the casualties were lighter.

His main intent however was to get through the Falcon lines to the command unit, and he was going to get there one way or another. Woe betide those Falcons that got in the way of him and his Cavaliers.

The Falcons DID panic. Falconis' temporarily imposed order broke as soon as the dragons started directly attacking the soldiers. The sight of the Cavaliers, Club Knights, and rebel Falcons thundering down the ridge at them broke their confidence completely, and hundreds began to flee in terror, only to be picked off by arrows by the archers.

But not all was chaos. The green-clad royal guard, nearly a thousand strong, and several regular companies of at least as many, all directly surrounding the king, were bracing themselves for battle. They stood side to side, shields overlapping, spears and a few pikes held ready.

It was them or the cavalry. Quorandis checked his horse for a second, allowed his men to regroup, and then broke into a full gallop two hundred yards from the elite Falcon lines. It was Falconis' men or his own.

He rather pitied the Falcons for having to face both Cavaliers and their own determined countrymen.

[Daimyo]

And the demon leapt to his new steed and flew into the sky.

DEREK and Keavur Stormspear saw him. They saw Gart flying on his steed, and with a nod to eachother, the both of them unleashed a telekinetic storm onto the beast. As it soared over the golden towers of Orion, the dragon's wings were shredded to bits and pieces of flesh and sinew. The dragon, its powers of flight stolen in a cruel and instantaneous blow, spiraled out of control. Aezazel, using his demonic powers, jumped away from the falling beast. Keavur kept a vigilant eye as the thin form of Gart flew backward, disappearing into the maze of buildings, while Coal Blood smashed into a minaret.
Radjar unsheathed his katana with a sharp and swift sound of metal against polished wood. Graygon pulled open his cloak, drawing two deadly knives out of leather bandoliers. The Dragon masters looked about nervously.
"Keep a sharp eye," Radjar ordered. "That hellspawn could be anywhere!"
The group could tell that even the battle-hardened Radjar was afraid. His voice was shaky and cracked, but his arm- and hopefully his mind- Was as prepared as ever.
The sounds of marching, not organized in any way, much more like the charge of a fervent mob, reached the small bands ears from the alleyway behind them. Lucius Van DeMorte, at the head of his elites, rode like a devil down the cobble road.
A Dragon Master fell, and Caimlin pulled a wicked lance from the soldier's pierced sternum. He was dead.
"Kill the horses!" Caimlin demanded.
Radjar rushed ahead, going for DeMorte. The Cavalier threw his shield with a snap of his arm, hitting Radjar full force in the chest and abdomen. He flew backward, blood streaming from his broken nose and mouth. Derek shoved his pike through the breast of a horse, impaling its rider with it. The dying knight slumped forward, one hand on the pike, before Derek ripped it out once again. Radjar stood up, grabbing his katana and continueing his aggressive assault on DeMorte. The Cavalier evaded his strikes, shifting from side to side, holding his Templar sword with both hands. Radjar struck forward when Lucius lost his footing. Lucius parried the blow, knocking the samurai blade from his fingers. With the pommel of his sword, Lucius bashed Radjar in the side of the head. Radjar let out a groan of pain.
"Now you die, King of Hemlock! Your head will be a trophy on my door! I have won this game of skill!"
He held the sword above his head to strike, but before he could, Graygon was upon him, knives slicing. Lucius fell to the ground as well, coughing blood.
"Game over," Graygon snarled as he cut the knight's throat and his Aryan head fell onto the stone road. The Cross Knights had been routed.

[Formendacil]

Grid:J-10
Location: Making their way to

The parties disperced, Caimlin, the pink Dragon Masters, Graygon, Radjar, Keavur and Derrick into Orion, and remainder of the Forestdwellers and Bulls, Rosa, Sir Dractor, Barbod, Vos, Fraun, Dordrot, Reno, Aros, Voolmark and Bjarn back to the camps.

Barbod was at the reins of the chariot, not trusting anyone else, even his fellow Bull, Dordrot, to drive the chariot with the wounded Bjarn.

"Don't worry, old friend," he growled in a low voice, "we'll get you out of here all right." But it was slow going. There were bodies, armour, weapons, and general debris everywhere. They were continually forced to detour in order to spare the injured Forestman king dangerous pain. Voolmark was walking behind the chariot to keep Bjarn's pain at a minimum, but with Mana drained, there was precious little he could do.

They came to what resembled a ravine. It was a huge gash in the ground, torn up by the battle and the catapult fire. There was no way around, without going over a thousand yards out of their way. However, Reno had a solution.

"There was a catapult here," he said. "That's what concentrated on the fire on this spot. Look, there are still several beams here. We can make a bridge."

"The beams barely reach across," said Gerald Vos, doubtfully. "And the trench is nearly man-high. I wouldn't trust the chariot on such a weak bridge."

"We can reinforce by standing underneath," said Aros. "What other choices do we have?"

"Several," said Voolmark, "but they would all take too long. Bjarn does not have that time."

"Then let us get on with it," said Fraun, jumping into the trench, and putting his hands under the beams for support. "Come on, there are enough of us." The others started to join him in the trench. Then Dordrot happened to look backwards.

"Cross Knights!" he yelled. "Thirty Cross Knights on foot!" The Cross Knights had already seen them, and broke into a run on his cry.

"We can't risk Bjarn," said Sir Dractor. "Get him across!" Shoving Dordrot and Aros into the ditch with all the others, he turned to face the Cross Knights.

"Get Bjarn to safety," he told them. "I will deal with these interlopers." And dropping his visor, he broke into a run towards the Cross Knights.

With all the others underneath the beams, Barbod began to slowly inch the chariot across the makeshift bridge, all the while praying that it would hold. Behind him, Sir Dractor was confronting the Cross Knights.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

With all the others underneath the beams, Barbod began to slowly inch the chariot across the makeshift bridge, all the while praying that it would hold. Behind him, Sir Dractor was confronting the Cross Knights.

J-10
Allied Army's makeshift infirmery

Up on the hill overlooking the battle-weary Yellow Castle, Shainya turned away from where Jack, up to his wrists in blood, was doing something to Green Fox's leg and muttering fretfully.

"Brix and blox, there's alot more...stuff...in a man than a dog...you there! Hand over the those shiny tweezers - NO! not that. Oh tyco, nevermind, here you hold this kneecap in place and I'll get the - hold it, I said, don't tremble so, it's only a kneecap...just without the flesh and gristle that you usually see along with it...brix and blox..."

Shainya did not smile. She had had three men die right infront of her while she had been trying remove various remains of weapons and she felt horribly numb emotionally. Suddenly she saw a band of - she blinked - pink - Dragon Masters come around a bend and enter the gates of Orion. There was nothing she could do from her location, and she watched helplessly for minutes until she spotted at party exit Orion and come towards her. She reconized the figures of Barbod and Graygon immendiatly, and then she spotted Rosa, Sir Dractor, Reno and Aros. Someone was in the cart, obviosly wounded, but she couldn't tell who -

A lump grew in her chest. Bjarn She about about to run down to aid them in constructioning a bridge when she spotted the Cross Knights the same moment Sir Dractor did. Once glance told her that they would not make it in time, and Sir Dractor stood little chance of holding off the knights for long. A scream ripped from her throat, and for a second she did not realise she was calling Bourne's name.

He appeared by her instantly, demanding, "What!?"

"They won't make it!" she screamed, gesticulating toward the teetering chariot and it's guiders.

Bourne took in the situation calmly, but with lightning speed. He raised an arm and screwed his eyes shut. Shainya felt like bursting, shouting at him, "What the tyco are you doing, help them!" but she bit her lip until it bled. Then her eyes widened. As she watched, the beams beneath the chariot seemed to harden and lengthen, becoming straight and wide as like it it was ment to be a bridge. Barbod was too busy to notice, but Reno stared at the beams as if transfixed until Aros nudged him urgently.

"How do you do that?" asked Shainya stupidly.

Bourne shrugged. "I simply convinced the wood they would like to be straight. All things are sentient, it was simply a matter of asking them to do what you want. Besides, the Mana has no affect on me."

The chariot had reached the top of the hill. Sir Dractor was not with the group.

"Here, bring him over here..." said Shainya tenderly. Graygon and Aros set Bjarn down on a clear table. Jack came over, a grin slipping off his face as he spotted his old schoolmate.

"Foxy is patched as the Rose Marie sail, but he'll hold...oh...brix and blox...!"

[Jack Craft]

"Here, bring him over here..." said Shainya tenderly. Graygon and Aros set Bjarn down on a clear table. Jack came over, a grin slipping off his face as he spotted his old schoolmate.

"Foxy is patched as the Rose Marie sail, but he'll hold...oh...brix and blox...!"

Tears ran in dirty, crusted lines down Shainya's cheeks, and she practically crushed Jack's arm in her frantic grip.

"Help him! Tyco! Do something!"

Jack stared at Bjarn, his face turning pale as milk behind his beard and the smears of blood. He saw the shards of splintered bone that jutted from the ruin of Bjarn's legs, and the jellyfish-spatter that remained of his right hand. His mouth worked soundlessly.

"Megablox you, do something!"

"I... I-I-I..."

Some of the others pulled Shainya away from Jack, who was beginning to look half-mad himself. She did not resist, though she continued to scream at him to do something for Bjarn. Aros spoke to him in a calmer voice.

"Is there anything that can be done, chirurgeon?"

"I..." Jack swallowed hard, and tried again. "I don't know how. His legs are splintered like glass, his hand's a pudding... nothing short of magic could heal such wounds. I might be able to keep him alive, if he's not already gone into shock-- but his legs, his arm-- I haven't a prayer of saving them."

"Do what you can. No one will blame you."

Jack could not look away from the twisted body of his oldest friend.

"Aye. Aye." He whirled towards the makeshift group of healers behind him. "You lot! I want poultices and painkillers, bandages and cauteries! Get splints, leeches, elixirs, and anything else you can lay your hands to! Torches, lanterns, too-- it'll be dark, sooner than we want it to. If Death comes for Bjarn today, He leaves empty handed if I have to beat Him off with my own two hands! And if any of your fancy-pants mages can lend a wand, get them over here!"

The group scattered to obey, and Jack leaned in close over his old friend.

"Bjarn, I left you behind once. Jack won't be making that mistake again, you can count on it."