Where Drake Blackheart, Knight-Templar of the Order of the Firey Heart, is cut down in furious battle alongside his companions on the battlements of Castle Eslohe.. RED FURY Dronk Cragpush stood at the foot of the gatehouse, his rope still secured by the grappling hook to the castle walls. His armor lay in tatters, his beard singed, covered in his own vital fluids. Beside him Edmee, priestess of Manaan, stood, her shield held high as yet another rain of crossbow bolts pelted down from the merciless stone walls. Her armor was pierced, bolts protruding from her shoulder and leg. Another bolt stuck out from near her neck, the bright red blood staining the stones of the old road in front of the gatehouse. Seeing Dronk near death, her eyes afire, she chanted a healing prayer to Manaan. As she did so, Dronk felt his wounds close slightly, some strength returning to him. Cornelius Centaurii, Magister of the Celestial College, produced the Ebony Fly from the folds of his blood-stained clothing, his robes having been discarded on the ground. With a word of command, he flung the carved figurine to the ground, and in an explosion of smoke and light it expanded into a gigantic fly, its hairs twitching. Cornelius then backed close to the tower where he hoped he would be protected from the crossbow bolts from the walls, while mentally commanding the fly to move towards Drake Blackheart, Templar of the Order of the Firey Heart, who was gripping his two-handed silvered greatsword tightly, his eyes burning with battle-lust. No sooner did Cornelius reach the wall than another hail of bolts pelted down - this time, much smaller than the first volleys. Edmee raised her shield, deflecting several harmlessly, while the others hit the ground ineffectually. Dronk, still bleeding heavily despite the power of Man'aan's healing magic, sprinted away from the gatehouse, to take cover behind the heavy iron cages which were filled with the skeletal remains of those who had displeased the lords of Castle Eslohe. Once he reached cover, he readied his heavy crossbow, his hands still slick with his own blood. A VALOROUS ASSAULT Drake Blackheart, seeing the giant fly approach, leapt atop it, and gripping the thick hairs directed the beastial insect up, up - towards the battlements where his fellow Sigmarite Cyrus Aggaron was engaged in a life-or-death struggle with the remaining guards of the gatehouse. As Drake rose higher in the sky, crossbow bolts whizzing past, the scene came into view. Cyrus was surrounded by the guards, his form a blur as he masterfully evaded the strikes of the black-mailed guards and their leader, Gold-Face. As Drake approached he could see one attack slip through Cyrus's defenses, leaving the Witch Hunter to stagger as his blood splattered on the stones of the battlements. Cyrus though, hardly skipping a beat, brought both pistols up to point directly at Gold-Face and fired both barrels. The pistols erupted fire and smoke, and the ammunition, blessed as it was by Sigmar, blasted two smoking holes through the armored man's torso, such that Cyrus saw a brief glimpse of the wall behind. Gold-Face froze for a second, then collapsed to the ground, bodily fluids pouring from his ruined corpse. As he did so, Drake arrived at the top of the high wall, and threw himself from his digsuting mount onto the walls, his greatsword coming down onto one of Cyrus's attackers, splitting through the heavy mail and cutting the man deeply from sternum to arse. Black ichor splattered Drake's embossed armor, covering the sigils of Sigmar carved therin, and his opponent tumbled to the ground, dead before he started to fall. With a battle cry - 'For Sigmar!' - Drake pressed against his opponents, freeing Cyrus from being surrounded. Hard pressed though they were, a Sigmarite Templar and Witch Hunter were unbowed, and redoubled their assault with reknewed ferocity. Edmee, covering herself from the crossbow bolts with her shield, on which the wave symbols of Man'aan had been carefully embossed, moved to Cornelius, who was severely injured, standing close to the tower on one side of the gatehouse. With a prayer, she channeled the power of the Lord of the Seas through her, and Cornelius felt some strength return to him, his wounds closing slightly. Muttering a word of thanks, Cornelius then stepped back out from the shadow of the tower, his arms held high, the words of Power coming from his lips as he unleashed a ray of freezing energy at one of the mailed figures high on the battlements, but it missed, cutting high into the sky instead like a frozen scar silhoutted by the double moons for a moment, before vanishing. Dronk, having readied his crossbow, fired at one of the figures he could see struggling with his companions Cyrus and Drake on the walls. The bolt struck true, and Drake saw it pierce the helm of one of his assiliants, sending his corpse tumbling to the ground. Dronk smiled, seeing the figure disappear and hearing the battle-cries of his two Sigmarite companions. Encouraged by the support of their allies, Cyrus and Drake fought well, bringing more of the attackers to meet their doom, beneath the powerful sword strikes of Drake and Cyrus's tireless pistols. Despite their prowess, more mailed figures poured out from the tower entrances onto the battlement. Cornelius then looked up at a high window, and called to his familiar, Luna, the celestial snake, summoning her within the tower. Through her eyes he could see the floor of the tower was deserted, and he silently commanded her to climb the nearby ladder, a difficult feat for a snake, but Luna was no ordinary animal. Edmee, a war-cry rising from within her, channeled a bolt of divine energy through her flail towards the armoured figures threatening Drake and Cryus, but missed. She cursed under her breath, moving forward to get a better vantage point. Cyrus, meanwhile, stopped for a moment to collect the helm of Gold-Face, throwing it into a sack on his belt. BLOODY BATTLE Drake brought his greatsword down again in a mighty arc, nearly severing one of the mailed figures arms and sending him to the ground where his ruined corpse joined those of his companions. Cyrus's pistols belched fire, and yet another of the dark-mailed figures dropped, without a word, crashing to the stones in a tumble of metal and flesh. They were knee-high in bodies now, their fury having devastated all sent against them. Dronk, seeing another mailed figure emerge, grinned and aimed with the pistol that Cornelius had first taken from the bounty-hunter who ambushed them aboard Josef's boat, so many moons ago. With a bang and a puff of smoke he fired, but missed, the bullet making a whizzing noise as it ricochetted from the drab grey stone of the castle walls. Cornelius directed the giant fly back towards Dronk, and it zipped over, its monsterous wings making a buzzing sound as it hovered nearby. Dronk, seeing the opportunity, jumped over the rusted iron cages and atop the fly, then directed it towards the battlements so he could aid Cyrus and Drake. As he approached on the insectoid mount, crossbow bolts were fired at him, one striking the fly directly beneath one of it's multi-faceted eyes, splattering Dronk with foul ichor and causing it to fly sideways, causing Dronk to grip the creatures course hairs even tighter, for fear of falling. No new foes had come from the towers, and with a crash of metal against metal, Drake downed another foe with his blood-drenched greatsword. Despite his skill, he had been heavily wounded by the sheer number of blades he faced. Cyrus, likewise, was heavily wounded, his ornate breastplate scratched, his mail tattered and torn in several places. Yet both Sigmarites fought on, shoulder to shoulder, slowly turning the tide of battle. Her friends now engaged in deperate struggle, Edmee ran to where Dronk's rope dangled from the battlements, still tied to the grappling hook, and began climbing it with all the skill of a born sailor. Seeing this, Cornelius broke off his mind-link with Luna, still slowly climbing the ladder, and rushed behind the Priestess of Man'aan, and began climbing up, behind her. A KNIGHT-TEMPLAR'S WRATH Drake smashed another foe with the pommel of his greatsword, and Cyrus shot the thing in the head. Their foes smelled revolting, a disgusting miasma of rotten flesh seemed to hang about them like a cloud. The smell of the gunpowder was pleasant in comparison. Panting, Drake turned - and for the first time he realized they had cut their way free - the mailed figures lay broken and battered at their feet like so many smashed toys. He shouted a war-cry and rushed into the nearby tower through the open arch, surprising another figure who still brandished a crossbow, preparing to fire at the figures climbing up the blood-stained rope. Before he could do so, Drake reached him and drove his greatsword down through the thing's neck, nearly severing it's head and causing it to collapse in ruin. Beside him Cyrus began re-loading his pistols as he followed into the tower, a prayer to Sigmar on his lips. Dronk swooped above the battlements on the teetering giant fly, throwing himself down, where he landed with a tumble and sprung to his feet. Burned, bloodied - but unbroken - Dronk's dwarvish lust for battle asserted itself as he cursed in Khazalid, the ancient dwarvish tongue. Seeing his companions running into the left tower, Dronk darted into thr right, his rapier coming free in a flash of steel, his three-bladed parrying dagger in his other hand. As he entered, he stabbed a mailed guard through it's heart, killing it instantly - but then turned to see two more charging through another entrance of the tower towards him. Meanwhile, Edmee and Cornelius reached the battlements, with Edmee drawing her flail and readying her shield, wincing in spite of herself at the bolt which had nearly shattered her collarbone, her eyes shining. Cornelius, himself drenched in his own blood, wearily reached the walls just behind her, and with an arcane gesture caused the giant fly to vanish, becoming again a carven ebony figurine, which he stooped to grab and place back securely in his pouch. VICTORY... Drake and Cyrus, meanwhile, were striking at the other warriors in the left tower, with Cyrus emptying both barrels into one assailiant, who was severly injured but who did not fall, while Drake cleaved another with a strike from his greatsword. 'If only Hugo were here'..he thought absently as ichor splattered the tower floor, the vomit-inducing stench of his enemies permeating his nostrils. Dronk, seeing two fresh opponents rushing towards him, decided discretion was the better part of valour and ran back towards the battlements, past Cornelius and Edmee. Immediately following behind emerged two more mailed figures in full pursuit, one following Dronk, the other, seeing Edmee, charging the Priestess of Man'aan, who swung her flail at her attacker, but missed. Cornelius drew a dagger and stabbed at the mailed figure as he approached, striking home and drawing a black ichor from the wound. The companions were now all astride the walls, and the moonlight began to dim, as clouds seemed to form in the sky, the distant rumble of thunder echoing ominously. Drake and Cyrus now faced only one opponent, who turned and drew his longsword - as he did so however, another rushed in from the other tower entrance - from the inner walls. Edmee turned to avoid a stroke of her opponents longsword but failed, feeling the blade cut deep into her shoulder and causing her to see red - as she did so, she unleashed the full force of the Lord of Storms, causing a wave of electrical energy to pulse from her wounded figure and sending the mailed figure tumbling to the ground, smoke pouring from the joints and holes of the full plate armor. Dronk rushed into the tower room with Cyrus and Drake, Cornelius's familiar reaching the top of the ladder at the same time - slithering into the room silently, and Cornelius followed, his blade still dripping with blood. Drake cleaved at the first foe standing near him, cutting a deep wound across the thing's chest, chopping through the heavy armor as though it were paper, but it did not die. Seeing the threat emerging from the northern archway, he moved to confront the fresh guards, provoking a strike from his nearby opponent that skittered harmlessly across his heavy armor, stained heavily with both his own blood and that of the guards. As he reached the new threat, he pointed to Luna in the corner by the ladder-hole where she had emerged and said in heavily-accented Reikspiel 'Look, a snake!' but the guard completely ignored him. Drake then smashed the thing directly in the helm with his sword, but still it came on. Cyrus emptied both barrels of his pistols into the wounded guard, dropping him. Cornelius, seeing the guard coming from the northern archway, began to chant in an arcane tongue, and Dronk rushed beside the thing, his rapier like a lightning of steel in the torchlight. OR DEATH.. The guard, confronted by the Knight-Templar of the Order of the Firey Heart, swung his longsword, and struck true, causing Drake Blackheart to stagger from it's impact. As Drake brought his greatsword up to deflect another strike, a small stone under his foot imbalanced him, causing him to misgauge the sweeping strike. Dronk and Cornelius were the closest - but could do nothing but watch as mailed guard-thing's rusty, etched longsword cut deep into Drake's midsection, through his heavy, reinforced mail and into his innards, sending a torrent of blood out to the hard stone floor. Drake's final words died on his lips as he fell to his knees, his vitality spilling out from him. The Knight-Templar toppled to the ground with a mighty crash and lay still, under him a spreading pool of bright red blood. Drake Blackheart of Vodf, steadfast and true companion, Knight-Templar of the Order of the Firey Heart, slayer of cultists, daemons, goblinoids, beastmen and worse, dedicated follower of Sigmar, friend to the good, protector of the weak, rightous fury of Sigmar, was dead. Drake's vision went black, and then he found himself in a bare room, with a stone table in the center. His companions, the castle - all had vanished. He could hear a woman's frenzied scream, then silence. Outside a bolt of lightning flashed, and it began to rain.
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The WizardIn time, you will come to know the tragic extent of my failings... Past Journals
September 2017
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