Winding Water Fort — Frontline RP Thread

[Wade]

Early morning, the one-eyed tiefling fighter called Jalib has arrived to the Winding Water fort following the Duchal edict. He came in a company of two Candlekeep avowed and immediately claimed a bench by the well as his rightful lair.



His first day was rather loud with various visitors coming to the fort — from Candlekeep scholars and Baldurian nobles to Northern Watchmen and Zhentarim agents. Some came to hear the recent news from the frontline, other to meet the notorious tiefling. Other than a little verbal squabble and one non-lethal night duel outside, the peace was maintained.



The tiefling looks clearly frustrated and unenthusiastic about his predicament, yet he effectively and throroughly does his job and makes his best to behave.



It feels quiet on the barricades. No major threat was witnessed. Yet.

[Wade]

The last morning, barricades on the frontline were attacked by a large raid of dire trolls and goblins led by their diabolic masters. Flaming Fists squad accompanied by Jalib the tiefling managed to throw them back and protect the border from this sudden attack.



The ground was set on fire, leaving no trails but ashes instead of troll bodies by the evening.

[Wade]

Another gathering by the barricades. Infront of this small public, Jalib presented a bizarre device turning simple water into holy. It's said that together they filled the freshly dug moats with holy water. Strange talks about delivering celestial crocodiles here were as well heard, banter or not remains a mystery.



By the night, Jalib and Ulric the faithful of Siamorphe remained on vigilant watch, protecting the frontline from diabolic threat.

[Wade]

Military training seems to be well underway at the Winding Water fort. During the Flaming Fists excercises, in the middle of the night, a group of volunteers ventured off on a dangerous patrol to the devil-devastated wasteland.



By the morning, they returned with a report for General scar. Among the things rumored to be included there:
— Polymorphed female devil speaking on beahalf of some mysterious tower.
— An abandoned village full of hellspawns, goblins and whole swarming carpets consisting of filthy lemures.
— Fight against superior diabolic odds was won due to one of volunteers using paramount forbidden magic that shred their very existance to pieces. That volunteer departed before the report was handed to Scar.



The frontline is becoming more troublesome with every day passed.

[Wade]

A tense confrontation was witnessed recently by the frontline barricades between members of two rival mercenary companies.

A large squad of Ebon Blades mercenaries, presumably under command of sergeant Michael Dunn, was seen holding open field excercises against devils in a dangerous proximity from Winding Water fort. They were soon encountered by a group of Northern Watchmen with a squad of Flaming Fists joining later. Confrontation was tense and risked to end up in a carnage, but Ebon Blades left the scene instead and so no blood was spilled that morning.



Other than that, more and more bearded devils raid groups attack the frontline. The Fists visibly increased their presence by the barricades.

[Wade]

A blonde woman in a dress was once again spotted at the frontline. She immediately left once Jalib the tiefling has arrived, immediately identifying her as Lafareeza the Herald of Hellsteel Tower. Shortly after this encounter, the whole observable ground ahead was absorbed by a seemingly endless slithering mass of lemurs, and a massive devil attack followed next.



Soon, a huge mob of adventurers came to save the day (or simply out of curiosity), but Northern watch dispatched the invaders on their own by the time.



In the following night, Isabella Villame, the Portal Keeper of Candlekeep, was hosting an open arcane lesson, and it gathered many curious eyes.



By the next morning, a huge squad of Ebon Blades once again was spotted on the frontline, but this time the conversation was less hostile. Soubar mercenaries offered their aid in cooperating against the diabolic threat. There were talks about scouting or even taking over Hellsteel tower, as it seems to be the key to at last hijacking the initiative in this war.

[YourMoveHolyMan]

The evening of the 24th day of Kythorn saw the frontlines of the Winding Water Fort tested. A mixture of devils and their troll soldiers pressed out and harassed the defenders in their fortified position.

A Candlekeeper in their midst reached out by magic, alerting allies that do not normally share the field that their assistance may be needed.

A conversation some distance away, involving complaints of ships and the ongoings therein was suddenly interrupted. The sellsword soldiers rallied and no less than seven Ebon Blades answered the call. Along with several of the allied company the Golden Wheel, they made their way to the frontline to help hold back the tide of devils and trolls.

When the fire's burned out, the dust settled, and the wounded were tended, the Ebon Blade company men and women stood beside the other defenders of the line. When it was clear there would be no more threat made at that candlemark, they eventually withdrew back to their hold in Soubar by magic.



The Ebon Blade responders arrived from each of two companies,

Of Alpha Company,
Corporal Zeland Belord
Recruit Kathalae
Recruit Lo'mir

Of Bravo, the Bastard Company
Sergeant Michael Dunn
Second Blade Alland
Blade Zeke Goodheart
Recruit Meredin

[Asmodea]

The Battle of Winding Waters, Part One:




A scholar stood behind the barricades of Winding Water listening to the same chatter she was used to every day.

"I mean it because Wren is an old lady"

“That she is... although most of her... 'potency' still remains.”

Agent Jane Price was laying more than a bit of smarm onto Valduil Feralen, the current representative of The Northern Watch on duty. It was a peaceful day until Isabella’s attention was, as is often the case of late, snapped back to reality by Jalib.

“...Tha hell they're doing there?”

Isabella turned her eyes from politics towards where Jalib was squinting. North out in the direction where Frin and Krumarth were culling some stray Devils. She instantly frowned. It was always a bad sign when Isabella didn’t have to guess what everyone was looking at. And what Jalib was looking at was big.

“Well… they got bigger.”

They… Isabella heard the word and blinked once again proving her sight wasn’t what it was in her youth. Not only were the Trolls giant. There was a half dozen of them.

“To arms!”

The cry shook her out of her examination. A ward. She needed Premonition. The weave came to her as those around prepared in their own way.

“Damn…” Grunts and reaches for weapon.

“Careful mum ya aint got your plate…” A shifting of shadows.

The knocking of an arrow and a dead run forward.

It would be exactly forty two minutes until the scholar could breathe calmly again.

[Snarfy]

Over the past half-tenday, a lithe looking male, most likely an elf, wearing a black cloak and blueish tunic could occasionally be seen visiting the Fist encampment... sometimes strolling casually through the front gate, and other times appearing in a flash of magic to stand(... after wobbling precariously) near the waters edge.

After overhearing news of the most recent battle(which he was absent for) the elf flops his arms lightly in apparent irritation. After a few moments, a few small contraptions are procured from a black satchel hanging under his arm, and the elf moves off out of the fort and into the moonlit forest, gliding steadily towards the erected wooden barricades. Once at the barricades, the elf would only offer a vague approximation of a hooded head-nod towards any sentries as he strode past the them and towards the nearest lurking small devilish creatures.

Any who would watch him might notice, through the dimly lit canopy of trees, the elf engaging in a rather peculiar ritual, as he moved from tree to tree, often vanishing behind one and re-appearing at the next a dozen heartbeats later. The elf, for whatever reason, comes out of cover within ten paces of one of the small winged creatures, almost as if he's luring it. Once the creature is baited, the slender elf simply stands there and waits... but only long enough for the small devil to move within five paces of him, or less. At this point a popping noise might be heard, and small flash of white light would erupt briefly, leaving only the sight of a scorched devil spawn, the elf having vanished again. Moments later, the elf would re-appear, this time ten paces in the opposite direction of the creature... a quiet bang and an arc of electricity flashing against the night forest as the winged spinagon rushed it's elusive quarry. This ritual(or is it experimentation?) would go on for some time, the effects of which seem to vary greatly... a whooshing sound followed by an eruption of frost at times, or even a slurping sound followed by the swell of green-like substance(but never anything resembling fire). The only constant in all of this odd sounding spectacle seems to be the end result: the corpses of lemures and spinagons, be they melted, frozen, electrocuted, or even simply stabbed to death. Some time later, the elf would re-appear at the Fist encampment, where he would be seen writing something down on some tattered parchment with a small piece of charcoal.

After his parchment scribbling, a scroll would find it's way into his gloved hands, and then the skinny elf would grimace and recite an incantation of travelling, vanishing into the folds of The Weave...

[Steve]

From time to time, along the Winding Water, a Cornugon may be witnessed by plain sight, standing on an overlook, eyeing the goings on, below. With luck, scouts may witness his appearance and mark his placement and features; others may find the moment to make an attempt to solicit the Beings attention.

[YourMoveHolyMan]

The frontlines were busy that day. An assorted group of volunteers and regulars manned the barricades, as a group of darkly armored and garbed individuals made their way south on approach. The downward black sword upon a circular sigil denoting them as the men and women of the Ebon Blade company, led by their Captain Greil Nightale.

A brief exchange of barbs, well wishes, or pleasantries followed between the group of defenders, and the arrived outsiders. But eventually the latter pressed on to their true destination, the palisade walls and fortified structure that was General Scar's command center.

A meeting of leaders was held, and a seed of cooperation was planted. How, and what, exactly might bloom from this was yet to be seen.



The meeting was barely completed when the chaos of battle lashed out at them all.

[izzul]

A worshipper of lady Red Knight is seen volunteering the cause against Devils at the Winding Water Fort. He met many new friends, allies and possible adversaries. Without a weapon made of alchemical silver, he tries to contribute towards the fighting as best as he could. Carrying any fallen volunteers back to the camp to be raised by clerics and patched up by healers.

[Wade]

The fort hasn't yet recovered from the previous major attack, but yet again, Lafareeza, the notorious Herald of Hellsteel Tower, appeared on the scene. She sent an army, and this time a horde of trolls and devils as well included a secret weapon.

A shock-squad of modified troll hunters charged in, leaving mayhem and devastation on their way. These beasts were immune to physical weaponry, and this sudden ferocious attack forced Winding Water defenders to fall back to the fort itself. Learning the hard way, some of defenders figured out the trolls are vulnerable to acid, and a few spellcasters capable of casting acid spells turned the tide of battle, saving the fort from inevitable destruction.



It was time for counterattack. Flaming Fists remained to secure the fort, while a large mixed group of various warriors and mages pressed on, throwing the troll hordes back to the barricade line. The combat wasn't over, though. An incredible avalanche of armored trolls followed with flying devils striking from above, but more reinforcements has arrived from Baldur's Gate, answering the call, and with marvelous efforts the frontline withstood this assault once more. The remains of diabolic forces were chased up to the village ruins where they were ultimately crushed.



It wasn't yet over, though. By the next morning, when least expected, a squad of troll arsonists attacked the barricades. A certain conscripted tiefling was still remaining on watch and managed to defeat the trolls on his own, but the damage was done. Despite being unable to reach the fort, trolls still have burnt the barricades to the ground. Later that evening, the tiefling was seen repairing and rebuilding them in a company of few adventurers.



Every new assault is more deadly than the previous. Will the frontline endure?

[mixafix]

"We have done well this night" In the aftermath of the most recent raids, a tired and worn Suton Dykes is seen checking on the repairs so recently completed anxiously eyeing the area beyond. He is heard to thank Lathander for the fresh day that they might all be ready once again should another wave appear. Once things settle he moves among his fellow defenders offering the best the King's Tear Emporium can offer. Discounted healings, fresh corn based foods, and water from the mountains. He adds in a few free prizes to keep morale high for the day ahead. He moves among the fallen and injured, a kind word hear and there. He makes a special effort to remind everyone they are not without the support of the City here and he expects more help will soon arrive that allows adventurers to remain in the field longer. He settles down at his chosen place in the line declaring them ready to face the next onslaught.

[Korchas]

Curiously, later in the day, after the barricades were set up once more, a small red-headed figure that was also witnessed during the massive attack could be seen lazing about near them. Perhaps making sure there were no other sneak attacks by trolls too soon.
Although whether she was even informed that the Barricades were attacked at all may be a riddle for the ages.