Post by Drakesonian on Sept 12, 2015 22:52:49 GMT
---Event---
News had spread that one of the villages that was reported 'liberated' from the Hobgoblin menace had only been a diversion and false hopes, as more and more reports of organized goblinoid attacks sprung viciously along the border of Brunwall. Dozens of bounties and requests for help erupted along the borders, villages needing more men to fight off the menace. Although there were militias forming in all the larger villages, those that were undermanned had been left for themselves as the warbands came down like a tidal wave. Like a plague they left only destruction and ruin, crippling the border communities in matter of hours. Despite this, Brunwall continued to look the other way, leaving the lordless lands to fend for themselves.
On the bulletin boards lay reports and advice for any oncoming mercenaries, directing them where help is needed most (with a hefty reward, of course). One of the reports state that a large group of at least fifty hobgoblins were seen marching towards a village responsible for transporting goods between two larger villages. Losing it would create a gap in the kingdom's defenses and leave a major farming village at risk of falling. Rumors even say that an orc is leading the Hobgoblin group.
------Setting------
The village is defended by ten militiamen. Nine houses haphazardly dot a small hill, surrounded on all sides by green fields, and to the north a thicket of trees. The attack happens as night falls on the defenders, their screams of help echoing out into the skies, smoke blanketing the skies and shrouding the lands in darkness. The only source of light would be the village on fire, illuminating the fields around it to reveal the shadows of the village militia desperately fending off the band of Hobgoblins.
------IC------
Out in the fields illuminated by the village burning in the distance, there was a man in heavy armor, with his short brown hair, and long black cape, marching at a slow pace towards a village that is aflame and listening to the screams of torment and pleas that echoed out into the night sky, shrouded now by the smoke that grows ever thicker as minutes pass. There the figure would pick up his pace, as he stampeded through the field, crushing through all the vegetation that stood in his war path. It took him several minutes to finally get close to the edge of the village, where the Hobgoblins were pouring in from all sides, filling the night sky with bloodied cries of both humans and goblins.
"Like a song of death, I'll bring sorrow and chaos where it flows. But from it I'll sing of joys and peace. To rebuild, to bring hope, to finally bring an end to this madness. Never to be split from greed, and power. Never to be torn from secrets and lust. United and unbroken."
There he would continue to hum under his breath in a warlike tone, drawing his bastard sword and resting it along his shoulder guard. He pressed his body to the limit to try and flank the invading Hobgoblins, though it would be a while until he arrived next to the fiery buildings.
News had spread that one of the villages that was reported 'liberated' from the Hobgoblin menace had only been a diversion and false hopes, as more and more reports of organized goblinoid attacks sprung viciously along the border of Brunwall. Dozens of bounties and requests for help erupted along the borders, villages needing more men to fight off the menace. Although there were militias forming in all the larger villages, those that were undermanned had been left for themselves as the warbands came down like a tidal wave. Like a plague they left only destruction and ruin, crippling the border communities in matter of hours. Despite this, Brunwall continued to look the other way, leaving the lordless lands to fend for themselves.
On the bulletin boards lay reports and advice for any oncoming mercenaries, directing them where help is needed most (with a hefty reward, of course). One of the reports state that a large group of at least fifty hobgoblins were seen marching towards a village responsible for transporting goods between two larger villages. Losing it would create a gap in the kingdom's defenses and leave a major farming village at risk of falling. Rumors even say that an orc is leading the Hobgoblin group.
------Setting------
The village is defended by ten militiamen. Nine houses haphazardly dot a small hill, surrounded on all sides by green fields, and to the north a thicket of trees. The attack happens as night falls on the defenders, their screams of help echoing out into the skies, smoke blanketing the skies and shrouding the lands in darkness. The only source of light would be the village on fire, illuminating the fields around it to reveal the shadows of the village militia desperately fending off the band of Hobgoblins.
------IC------
Out in the fields illuminated by the village burning in the distance, there was a man in heavy armor, with his short brown hair, and long black cape, marching at a slow pace towards a village that is aflame and listening to the screams of torment and pleas that echoed out into the night sky, shrouded now by the smoke that grows ever thicker as minutes pass. There the figure would pick up his pace, as he stampeded through the field, crushing through all the vegetation that stood in his war path. It took him several minutes to finally get close to the edge of the village, where the Hobgoblins were pouring in from all sides, filling the night sky with bloodied cries of both humans and goblins.
"Like a song of death, I'll bring sorrow and chaos where it flows. But from it I'll sing of joys and peace. To rebuild, to bring hope, to finally bring an end to this madness. Never to be split from greed, and power. Never to be torn from secrets and lust. United and unbroken."
There he would continue to hum under his breath in a warlike tone, drawing his bastard sword and resting it along his shoulder guard. He pressed his body to the limit to try and flank the invading Hobgoblins, though it would be a while until he arrived next to the fiery buildings.