DM Bloodlust wrote:The defenders were hard pressed. The Palace District had been overrun, with the palace and a few lone mansions standing like silver towers in a tide of undead that washed over the district. The eastern wall had been well defended, and even fortified with elaborate and supercharged suncannons and a few artillery pieces by the Everwatch knights. The western wall, overlooking the Dock's District, was still holding, but so fractured, so damaged, that it would not hold up to another assault. The army of the new dawn fought on, finding itself having reached the city walls and entered it, pushed back by the undead. Forest spirits assaulted the rear of the undead hordes, until they too were overwhelmed. The undead could not be halted for long.
As the undead hordes washed over the Palace District, they spread into the Dock's district, the last remaining Angel of Decay Haram leading the assault vigorously. Adventurer groups fought alongside defenders of all kinds to stem the tide, and were for a long time successful. Even the twins, two undead abominations, rotten corpses on a grander scale, could not force the defensive positions to collapse. Then, the Blight appeared. A being few had laid their eyes upon, a creature few understood, and less remembered. Lord's Alliance soldiers ran, but even before the Blight could reach them, they fell down. Some withered, as if aging decades within just the span of a few seconds. Others became sacks of flesh, or felt their arms and legs fall off. It was as if death itself was always a step ahead of this creature. This plaguelord. A forest spirit dragon, Ghandiron, appeared in the Palace District, having killed hundreds of undead minions, and put itself in the path of the Blight. This mighty spirit too, fell.
Despite seeing the devastation the Blight caused in his wake and the mighty spirit dragon fall, adventurers rushed to him with raised blades and axes. They all fell instantly, like wheat cut by a scythe. For how could they hope to outdo what the dragon could not? As the bravest and boldest were no longer there, the defensive lines fell back. Word reached the Dock's District, and troops all over the city pulled back to the East gate district, before the great eastern gate, where all of the city's remaining artillery had been positioned inwards towards the city center itself. The Blight, and the undead forces, continued to push towards them, with men and women charging in only to fall like thousands before, sacrificing their lives needlessly.
As the creature reached the central plaza, the Dukes gave the order. The suncannons, fully charged up, blasted away with a pulse that was extremely harmful to the undead, but harmless to the living. Artillery, loaded with anti-magic ammunition, sunburst bombs, firebombs and anything destructive that had been supplied to them by the Thayan enclave, fired. The undead lines were ripped to shreds. More and more kept coming, and more and more were incinerated, but the undead pushed onwards, inch by inch they were getting closer to the artillery lines. The Blight was at its center, and as the suncannons exhausted the last sunstones in a terrifying volley that forced everyone to shield their eyes, something happened. As eyes were once again opened, the Blight had stopped. He appeared stunned. As if turned. Grasping at the opportunity, paladins, clerics, wizards of all walks of life, rushed in. The high priests of the city, in a combined effort, managed to deliver the final blow as the rest had weakened it further, and banished it.
In a brilliant light, the Blight disappeared. The artillery stopped firing. A rallying cry went out amidst the troops, and adventurers, Dukes and soldiers all, charged into the fray. The undead were dumbstruck. The will that drove them on, vanished. The tide had turned, and the undead were losing ground quickly.
One adventurer group spearheaded the assault all the way into the farmlands and to the fields of the dead, where many undead had drifted back towards. Half of them, under Eleanor, pushed through the lines to catch up with a fleeing Haram. The other, under Greil, stayed behind to hold the line, giving the others a chance to finish the powerful Angel of Decay. With much effort, blood and sacrifice, they were victorious but had no time to dwell on their victory. The ones holding the line were being overwhelmed, and so they rushed to gather the group once more. As they cleared the rear of the undead, they were soon met by hundreds of soldiers having done the brunt of the fighting within the city and the farmlands. The path to Baldur's Gate lay clear.
The undead threat was no more.