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Re: Under Siege  Gwendolyn
 Sep 01, 2002 14:03 PDT 
Looking up at IceWolf in the tree, Miasna pailed a
little. "You want me to climb up there?"

She knew that there was a problem here. An elf who
didn't like trees, but she was afraid to even try.
What if she fell and broke her leg?


Quickly changing her mind, she scrambled up behind

"Now what?"
--- Lanse <LtLa-@gundamwing.net> wrote:
      "I don't know about you ... " stated IceWolf as
he clambered up a tree in a relatively untouched
section of the forest. "But I've had about as much
excitement as I can take."
      The short elf paused- glancing back to Miasna.
Quite possibly the only elf he's met that's shorter
than him, save for children. IceWolf was many
things, but a soldier was not one of them. He'd
learned that a long time ago. It was his simple
duty to ... well. Protect Miasna now, from all the
effects of battle that were now raging off in the
distance from the pair.


      "Stupid Lich. Stupid demons. Stupid Conclave
... " Deanna paused and crossed her arms against her
chest, orange/red eyes flaring faintly.
      The elven firewitch sat down on the edge of her
bed and glowered. She wasn't sure what to make of
anything anymore, but she knew she was beginning to
get fairly irritated.

-IceWolf Morganne/Deanna Jonesie
aka Dougie

"And God said: 'Let there be Lamers!', and suddenly
Grammar died, and The Plot was trampled underfoot by
Munchkin Stampedes."
       -Verse 1, "The Gospel of Lame"

--- Matthew Evets <matt-@rocketmail.com> wrote:
 The scrambling to get everyone back inside the Inn
continued as the
 skeletal beasts loomed closer. Kmelion and the
Mattwolf stood by the
 door, herding people through. By them, a young
guardsman, barely past
 boyhood raised his crossbow, the bolt point
wobbling as he quaked in

"Watch where yer aimin' boy!", The Mattwolf
growled, one clawed hand
 clamping on the bottom of the crossbow's haft.
"Them gas bags're under
 pressure, see? Ya rupture one o' them an this
whole field gets
Eyeing the field, the Mattwolf tilted the crossbow.
"Now shoot!"
 The guardsman oblidged, and the bolt sailed out to
smash into a
 skullbat that had been swooping towards a healer
that had lagged behind
 with a wounded soldier.
"Nice shot!", Kmelion called over the din. "MY
 Drawing her power around her, she fired off a beam
of white-hot energy
 that smashed into a line of slithering tentacles
that had been reaching
 for a downed pallet. The writihing, slimy things
blazed into crisps.
 "Whew!" She sagged a bit, not used to using so
much energy after so
It was close, and more than one person didn't make
it in, but at last
 the Inn door slammed shut, the thick wooden bar
slamming home to lock
 the door.
Still technically in charge of the group, Arvanna
set up a command
 center in the common room near the bar. Scouts on
the second floor
 reported that Darylia's undead had retreated to
just beyond bow range
 and were settling in. "Looks like were besieged,
Mistress.", Azreal
 purred from atop her shoulder.
"Yes, and it doesn't make any sense."
"What do you mean?"
"Why set up a siege here? Not is this one of the
best magically
 defended and well stocked places on the map, but
Semberholme has been
 alerted to our situation! By morning armored
cavalry and spell support
 will be here. So why mobilize so much force to
besiege a place for a
 single day?"
Azreal had no answer for that.
Meanwhile, Zena had bullied a servant into helping
her drag a giant
 mead keg up from behind the bar to the fireplace
where Eagleman and the
 Sage were stretched out on a table.
Little Sasha had been looking around frantically,
trying to stare at
 everything at once. All her life she'd herd
stories of this place and
 now here she finally was, surrounded by the heroes
of Hyrathos. She
 slid out of her seat near the hearth as Zena
 "What are you going to do with that, miss Zena?"
Zena replied by drawing her sword and slicing the
top off the keg and
 dunking her unconscious husband's head in it!
Sasha gasped and rushed forward. "What are you
doing Miss Zena? He'll
Zena gritted her teeth, straining to hold her
husband's heavy weight.
 "If I spoon it into him it'll..uhn...circulate
through his whole body.
 This way it...urgh...goes right to his messed up,
stupid head!".
 Despite the strain she was under, she amnaged a wry
grin. "Sides,
 drowning in mead...would be the way...ugh...he'd
wanna ....go!"
 Sasha sat down heavily. Frankly, this was all a
bit much for a mere
 farmgirl, and she was feeling a little bit
" You're like a coat hanger with meat hanging off
 ---Triple H, to Conan O'Brien

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