Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

Atop the Eastern front of the Undrek Valanar rampart walls, Shur stands leaning against the parapets his eyes carefully scanning the beach line. Spotting a group of undead shambling up the beachhead, Shur yells orders at the Catapult crew over on the next tower; in a matter of moments, huge fiery rocks are hurled with enormous force at their target. Launching through the air, the streaking boulders look almost beautiful shimmering in red. The unknowing Undead are powerless as the blazing boulders burst through their ranks causing limbs and bodies to explode as the mob is torn asunder.

"Tccht!", Shur sneers as he sees the groaning Undead burst into flames, "At this rate, the Eastern ramparts will still fall. "

Inexplicably more undead raise from the beachhead and attempt their way toward the Eastern Tower amidst the wreckage of warships, debris, and limbs.

Ever anti-fatalist, Shur looks about him in hopes of making a possible strike force from the meager force left to guard the Eastern Front of the ramparts. To his disposal are a squad of pike men led by a wizard fighter, accompanied by three Dire Boars. "They are to defend the ramparts in case we fall, " Shur thinks to himself bitterly.

Truthfully, the pike men are in sad a situation, and even one of the Dire bores is missing an eye. Though he would never admit to it, he feels sorry for them.

Hoever, Shur realizes to defend an the assault versus a seemingly endless army is impossible without controlling both the Western and Eastern towers along the beach. Analyzing the makeshift defense the Undead and Gnoll forces put up, he ponders intensively for a way to retake the East Tower and gain a positional advantage in the battle.

Deep in his own thoughts, Shur walks down the tower stairs to the courtyard, his boots crisply hitting the smooth stone steps. As he opens the courtyard door out from the tower, Shur spots Chalithra kneeling, and seemingly praying, by one of the catapults; although a formidable warrior in her own right, her inexperience in large scale engagements shows. Thoughts of the battle against the Revenant flood Shur as he remembers Chalithra falling, largely due to his own naivety at the time; however, in a wave of guilt, Shur risks his life rushing her away from danger and death. It is Shur who eventually resuscitates the jalil in an attempt to lay to rest his guilt. "Still, she has come a long way since, and would prove useful," he notes to himself.

Adjacent to her, Shur notices Zeerith standing and leaning against the entryway to another one of the towers; a brawny Drow, fearsome as he is brave. Guard duty seems boring for the stoic jaluk, as he calmly and carefully inspects the edge of the lethal longsword gripped in his hand, it gleams off the faerie fire lights littered about the ramparts; if one were to observe Zeerith's countenance, you wouldn't know he's in the middle of a siege. "Zeerith is one I would never welcome as an opponent," he ponders analytically, "... and his brutality is invaluable."

Then there's Elcalisan: Shur eyes the imasakari arcane spell caster suspiciously, however, besides a few run ins, warnings from Inxun, he knows next to nothing about her. "We're at war," He says in a whisper, shaking away any other thoughts but the plan at hand, "She could help."

Having made up his mind, he calls them together, describing his idea to quickly infiltrate the Eastern Tower and seize the advantage from the Undead's grasp. The Eastern Tower's vantage point would force the enemy's beachhead to fight against two flanks, as Sshamath's forces slowly crush the invaders.

"And then Deathlord Tagmadus will have lost!" He grins at the thought, "Even against an endless army, their army would be pinned against two fronts, instantly voiding their number advantage. We have no shortage of munitions so their thousands will ultimately fall our expert archers, regardless of the size." They all cheer.

As the group of four begin to prepare themselves, Shur runs over his plan to the battery chief. He expects the catapults and trebuchets to cover their flanks and, if necessary, to cover their rear in case a strategic retreat becomes necessary.

Though some in the task force are more reluctant than others, they start marching toward the East tower under the careful eye of Drow artillery. As they make their trek, it dawns on the four of them that a strategic retreat may be impossible.


To be continued...

The four of them quickly make their way to the enemy controlled East Tower. It's parapets are formidable as it stands over hundred meters high, it is one of the most imposing sights in all of Undrek Valanar. As the small task force draws closer, slinking in the shadows, Shur is able to count the enemies... Six gnolls guarding the entrance to the tower and a patrol of Undead archers at the top. "Looks easy enough..." He thinks to himself.

He motions for the group to stop and get into a prone position, "Strange I thought there would be more. As long as reinforcements don't arrive we should capture the Tower and set up a defensive position quickly."

"Zeerith," he looks at the nonchalant warrior now, " You and I will take on the Gnoll guards by surprise... Then Chalithra and Elcalisan will make use of the mayhem we create to rush up the tower stairs and destroy the undead." He pauses hoping they realize the implications.

"Even if we are able to cut down and distract the Gnolls, eventually their archers and we'll be dead unless they're dealt with. Zeerith and I are depending on Chalithra!"

Without a word, Chalithra nods slowly a look of cold steel in her eyes.

"Good," whispers Shur, he turns motioning to Zeerith and they both making their way toward the East Tower's entrance. They masterfully stay hidden as they inch closer stopping only a couple of meters from the Gnolls. The group of Gnolls seem to be arguing over a piece of meat, something that looks like a full grown jalil Drow leg. "Good," thinks Shur, "This makes our surprise attack all the easier to spring."

From a hidden position, Chalithra looks anxiously at the two jalukul as she waits for the opportune time to dash up the tower stairs; her hands grip her blade and shield tensely as she looks to Elcalisan nodding.

Suddenly, coming out from the shadows, Zeerith makes the first move toward the hulking Gnoll leader, the Gnoll faces the East tower's entrance gripping a drow leg in his paw as he stands over a campfire barking at his subordinates. Zeerith takes two powerful strides, hardly giving the surrounding Gnolls time to grunt, when his long sword pierces the Gnoll's heart from the back in one swift stab. The Gnoll leader, with a loud scream, drops the Drow leg and vainly attempts to grasp at the sword embedded in his back; the Gnoll growls and spews blood from his snarling mouth, slowly falling to his knees, and sinking onto the ground where his blood is already pooling. With a rueful grin, Zeerith pulls out his sword giving the hide of the collapsing Gnoll a strong kick as he does so sending the corpse into the nearby fire. The flames cackle and snap as they lick across the Gnoll Leader's body, consuming it whole, and becoming ever larger. The rest of the Gnolls howl and grab their weapons, the five of them ready themselves to pounce Zeerith.

"Z-zunk!" A bolt of lightning streaks past Zeerith instantly frying one of the Gnolls close to the East tower entrance. His charred body crumbles as the electricity tears through and over the Gnoll's limbs. Shur defiantly emerges from behind a boulder with his right hand outstretched holding the scimitar loosely. His arms pulsate with arches of lightning that quickly dart around his torso. With a grin, Shur jumps into the fray to aid Zeerith in his power struggle against the four remaining gnolls. "Hurry! The stairs!" Shur yells toward Chalithra, gritting teeth as his Scimitar jams into a crevice of a giant gnoll's halberd, stopping it from descending and crushing his skull.

Without a moment's hesitation, Chalithra and Elcalisan rush through the tower entrance and up the stairs. Finally, they reach the top of the tower, to see the Undead readying their crossbows and aiming down the height of the tower, "</I>Tt-wanng!</i> "

Several bolts are fired before the pair can rush the undead with their weapons drawn. All that can be seen of the skirmish atop the tower are blue and red streaking lights, as the two jalilen make short work of the undead. After the battle is over, Chalithra looks down the tower at the two jalukul. With some relief she sees the gnolls are dead. Zeerith and Shur stand over their slain bodies seemingly unharmed, though Shur seems to been struck by a bolt on his left shoulder. Even from her vantage point she can see the blood slowly ooze out from the bolt sticking out from his shoulder blade, yet he barely flinches as he talks.

"W-we must fortify the position quickly and send word by messenger to the remaining front and let them know the East has been recaptured!" he then points up as he talks to Zeerith, "Tell the two Jalilen to keep watch atop the tower and then meet me backhere. We must hold this tower and hope for reinforcements..." As Shur talks to Zeerith he sees a pale look of horror fall on the jaluk's face... "Zeerith, was is it?"

Feeling a gust of wind, Shur suddenly turns around to see a massive Undead Dragon landing behind them near the large fire extinguishing it instantly... Shur stammers as he takes a few feet back, his eyes transfixed upon the dragon, his hand almost shaking as he unsheathes his scimitar, "O-ooh hell!"

The Dragon roars, his wings stretching out into the air, his head pointing upward, and his boned tail whips wildly about the East Tower's Courtyard. Before Shur can regain his composure the Dragon's tail, long and powerful, catches him strongly in the chest sending him careening into a wall of boulders. Zeerith is only able to catch a quick glimpse of Shur's sailing body, as he dodges the Dragon's other attacks biding his time for an opportune strike.

Somehow Shur, still conscious, attempts to get off the ground. Shur likes stricken, his arms shaking as he pushes himself off the ground. He holds his breath and tries to stay conscious as sweat and blood drip from his head, his chest only rises a few inches off the ground despite his herculean effort until he exhales, and with a loud groan, collapses in a heap.

Zeerith unable to harm the Dragon, stares up at the great undead beast, readying himself to dodge the next blow. Chalithra and Elcalisan attempt to distract the Dragon in vain as their attacks harmlessly deflect off the massive undead monstrosity.
Miraculously magical arrows begin streaming down over Zeerith's head hitting the Dragon. Atop the Eastern Ramparts is Ilphryssin with a small retinue of archers. He points at the dragon and yells for another salvo of missiles to be fired. Rearing its horrible head toward his new assailants, the Dragon unleashes a wave of acidic breath toward the Ilphryssin and his archers.
Just in time, they all manage to take cover behind the ramparts before standing and preparing another salvo. Seemingly annoyed, the Dragon ignores Zeerith, Chalithra, and Elcalisan's attempts to harm it, takes off from the ground making his way back to Deathlord Tagmadus's fleet. Ilphryssin's archers cheer as the dragon escapes, and without any casualties, the East Tower is recaptured.

To be continued...

The siege of Undrek Valanar rages despite the Drow defenders holding the entire front. Legions of Undead archers, Gnoll soldiers, and wraiths bombard the beach. However, for every Drow that falls, twenty of Tagmadus's are slain, beaten, or destroyed.

Meanwhile, during a haitus in the fighting, Shur lies in one of the infirmary's sick beds, his torso heavily bandaged from where the dragon's tail struck him. After the Dragon's escape, Chalithra and Zeerith take him to the infirmary and treat his wounds, fearing the worst. They stand near him as he slowly comes to laying half naked in his sick bed, "You need rest Shur," Zeerith says sharpening his longsword with a bemused expression as he observes Shur's attempts to sit up, "Let us handle the rest, you've done your part."

"W-what!?" Shur asks incredulously as he immediately winces, clutching his side in pain from the phsyical strain of sitting up. After a few moments huddled over he slowly looks up, sweat forming on his brow, glowering at the jaluk as he whispers through clenched teeth, "I am not done fighting...!"

Chalithra acts to move forward as if to console him but, she stops herself, resigned to simply watch their exchange and say nothing. Sheathing is longsword Zeerith shrugs before stating bluntly, "I am not here to dissuade you. Leave this tent and you won't survive the cycle."

Without another word Zeerith stands, turns his back to them, and exits the tent leaving the flap carelessly open behind him. The injured and dying Drow moan, complaining at the cold draft suddenlly seeping into the exposed tent. Almost on cue Chalithra leaves, the sympathetic Drow looking at Shur once more before leaving the tent and zipping the flap shut. A sigh of relief is heard throughout the infirmary.

Shur finally sits up in his bed wearing nothing but boxers, bandages, and a flimsy blanket strewn over his lap. He blinks once looking away from the tent entrance shifting his attention to his open palms lying in front of him, facing upwards.

"Damn them..." he curses.

He clenches his fists and shuts his eyes attempting to ignore the pain... "My body is forged from the crucible of the Underdark, orphaned since birth, I will not stand idly by as my city burns to the ground!"

Suddenly, a small explosion erupts between his clenched fists as electricity begins to manifest itself dancing and ricocheting off his exposed dark skin. As his fists unclench, and his eyes open, Shur makes up his mind. He slowly gets out of the bed and dons his Hardened Displacer Beast Armor, the obsedian black armor reflecting the fearie fire lights set up about the tent. An orderly appears infront of Shur as he gets ready.

"Malla jaluk!" shrieks the anxious orderly, "Please, in your condition, you won't survive! You have four broken ribs and fractured left arm, you wael!"

Shur shrugs off the cries of the nurse, concentrating on not grimacing, he straps his chest protector tight around his torso. "Stop me and they will need tweezers to clean up your remains," he barely whispers seethingly.

The orderly shuts up and slowly backs away as the Drow Druid starts a small static storm around himself. In an instant Shur is out of the infirmary, the closed flap behind him, as he peers across the battlefield.

Only a few hundred meters ahead stands the towering Tagmadus, his ship wrecked on the beach behind him. The giant of the man slays all around as an elite guard of Sshmamath's best surround him. With a grimace and a smirk, Shur unsheathes his scimitar and lunges into the fray