Datharral

[Renrik]

Datharral a large, fortified town deep within goblin territory, built on ground considered neutral in all intertribal conflict. It is built of old grey stone from the surrounding mountains.
The houses in Datharral are not entirely up to the standard of most human towns, but are liveable. The town has the following features:
a market, a small, well-garrisoned fort, and a 30-ft. high, 10-ft. thick wall about it. It is built on a large hill overlooking a valley.

Datharral (Large town) Convential/"Monstrous" (Council of goblinoid lords and elected officals) Alignment varies (The council is generally Lawful Neutral, but does have some variance) GP limit 3000 GP, Population 4300, Mixed (79% goblinoid, 9% orc, 5% human, 3% giant, 4% other)

Datharral is the capitol of the Free Federation of Goblin States.
The politics of the Federation work as follows: To become a citizen, you must live within the federation for t least 5 years. Indentured servants that have lived in the Federation for 5 or more years become citzens when they earn their freedom. All citizens of adult age may vote for their territory's representative. Each territory has one representative in the council. (Because territories are usually ruled by the same tribe, most of the representatives are tribal kings or clan leaders.)

Pretty much anything illegal in most human cities is illegal in Durrathal. The exception is indentured servitude, which is legal.

-------------------------------

The settlement is currently hosting a meeting of various tribal kings and minor warlords, as well as GSA advisors and soldiers, who are there in a council of peace (to eachother) and war (to the foreign dwarves and humans who have been steadily chipping away at goblin-held territories for the past few hundred years).

The city is currently at 250% normal guard

[Xerillum]

A dwarven cannon blasts a cannonball at the castle

[Renrik]

((Dude, it's like, ninety miles from the farthest-reaching dwarven settlements in goblin lands. Note "deep within goblin territory" part. The entire purpose of the city is as a last bastion of resistance against dwarven encroachment.))

((If you choose to retract the above post, then pease ignore the following in-game reply. If not, we shall assume that the dwarves got a deep-strike commando team into goblin territory undetected.))

The cannon knocks a hole in the wall, and workers are immediately sent to repair it.

A force of some fifty elite worg-riders are sent to overrun the artillery emplacement, along with a hundred infantry backup.

[Xerillum]

((Ah. Never mind then.))

[Renrik]

((very well. the worgs and infantry stay where they are.))

[Xerillum]

A large recon airship floats above the castle.

[Renrik]

The ballistae atop the parapets fire at the airship.

[Xerillum]

The airship is hit. The pilots wake up to hear their pet snake hissing. Hey, what's that hissing noise...What's that BIG hissing noise? the airship goes down.

[Renrik]

((If the airship crashes outside of town, a group of fifty elite infantry and twenty worg-riding cavalry are sent to capture the crew. If it crashes within the town, fifty elite infantry immediatly surround it, along with 120 militia))

[Xerillum]

It comes down hard in the town. no survivors.

[Renrik]

The airship is aproached cautiously by the elite infantry and the militia.

At the castle, negotiations continue, but some headway is being gained.

[Renrik]

The airship is salvaged for lumber and other parts. The survivors are pulled out and buried in the potter's field outside the cemetary, after their heads are removed.

A GSA volunteer force of 1400, along with 600 rebel troops, enter the city, carrying with them six cartloads of supplies. The most guarded one is brought immediately to the local garrison and the contents uncovered: Roughly twenty mortar launchers, based on a gnomish design, along with many mortar shells. The other carts contain:
1 and 2. Curative items and bandages
3. Food and other basic provisions
4 and 5: Weapons. Lots and lots of weapons.

[Xerillum]

A man in a black cloak approaches the castle from the southe, hidden in the trees. He grapples to the top of a tower, and takes out the guards with a poison blade. He crouches low, and contemplates his next move.

[Renrik]

The sentries do not, as of yet, spot him.

An inside look at the negotiations going on in the castle. Among the many gathered warlords, tribal kings, and generals, these are some of the major ones.

Redfang, head GSA General
Narrkal, GSA Intelligence Officer
Kueresh, king of the Raknarran, a powerful clan currently at war with the dwarves
Maghar, king of the Gharakk, driven out of their territory by the dwarves. Have feud with the Racknarran.
Knawclaw, a minor warlord who has fought a series of guerilla wars against dwarven and human settlers.
Gharral, Head Councilmember of Datharral and a staunch supporter of goblin independance.
Kharrauk, the hobgoblin general of the Datharral militia.

It is clear what must be done. The dwarven incursions continue to wear down the strength of the homelands, and the more time we wait, the more our people are slaughtered. We must band together now and lay aside disputes, and declare a sovereign nation.

Why a sovereign nation? Why not fight them as is? Long have we done so, at the River Thaurr, and in the woods and the mountains. Why must we have a sovereign nation to continue what we have been doing?

We cannot continue as we have been. Without an official nation, we cannot have foreign support. No government will recognize a rabble of goblin tribes and warlords. Unless we show ourselves to be united, and a nation, we shall not be seen as a legitimate cause, and we shall not be recognized as a free state by even the most sympathetic of people. We must band together.

Yes. We must band together. Forget petty territorial disutes aid our fellow gob-

Silence, Gharrak dog! We shall help our fellow goblin, but when they invade into our territory, unnanounced and uninvited, we retain the right to defend ourselves!

An attack on our refugees is hardly what I consider self-defense. You claim to fight the dwarves, yet you will not suffer a goblin to live? Where is the justice in that, Raknarran? It is hypocracy. It is impossible to build a government with such "allies"

You doubt our commitment to the fight? We shall show you the meanng of war! It was you, not us, who were weak enough as to be driven from your own lands, and have to invade ours!

Weak? We sent our best warriors against the dwarves, fully armored, fully armed, more than enough for any average human or elf. But the dwarves- they had fire. They had mortars that rained down, filling our troops with metal. They shot balls of lead at us from their muskets, and rained down death. You face the power of their muskets, and you tell me that we were weak.

I have faced these muskets. I was not impressed. You are weak fools! You are savages and backwards grunt! You have no place in a council of war! Go back to your holes! We shall see the day when-

Stop! I shall not have threats uttered in this room. This council is one of peace, and of unity. The Gharrak were driven out of their home, and cannot help that. We have all seen the power of the dwarven muskets, and cannot say we are not impressed. But that is irrelevant. Wha is relelvant is that we are here gathered against a common foe. If we cannot cease this petty infighting, then we shall be overrun,one by one, by the invaders. This must stop. The Raknarran lands shall not be invaded, nor shall the Gharrak go without homes. The Gharrak are to stay in Darrathal until their lands are retaken. But they shall never be retaken unless we band together, and should we not, then the Raknarran lands shall fall as well!

I fear they shall fall regardless. You yourself spoke of the power of Dwarven guns. What chance do we stand against them in open battle? The only tactics that have prven themselves are ambushes, and we cannot run a war solely on that. Eventually, someday, we will have to face the dwarves in open combat. What shall we do then, as they stare down the barrel of their musket?

We shall stare down the barrels of our own muskets. We have received shipments from our brothers in the GSA. Mortars and muskets are now ours to command. Only a few, but we shall receive more. Until then, we shall use what tactics have proven themselves workable. And when we fight the Dwarves on the field of battle, we shall be able to field rifles of our own to counter theirs, and our troops shall be able to advance in safety.

There you have it. We have a chance. Don't you see? All these years, all these generations, we've been driven from our homes, seen our brothers and our sisters, our parents and our children all slaughtered. Seen our land be despoiled. And now we have the opportunity to change all that. We have the opportunity to fight back, and to stop the ncursions, to win our lands back. All we need to do is be willing. All we need to do is trust in eachother and fight together. Now is the time!

Redfang is right. The dwarves are still ammassing their forces. Unless we can band together, the incursions will continue and will intensify. We have to stop them now.

There you have it. We have no other choice. Now is the time. For our people, for our fallen anscestors and for the generatons yet to come, we must stand and fight now, before we forever lose our chance to do so. We shall stand, side by side, goblins, free and proud, and win our freedom. By our blood shall the lands of our anscestors be set free once more, and shall our children never know the shame of foreign rule, nor the wrath of foreign opression. It is time now to reclaim our ancient legacy, to rise up, take up sword and sheild, and break the chains of bondage! To set our lands free! Now is the time!
There is a silence in the hall.

Knacklaw steps forward.
A nation of our own? That's something worth fighting for. I shall pledge myself to this cause.

Emboldened by Knacklaw's pledge, Kueresh rises:
Should our foes prove trustworthy, we shall not fail to reward them with our support. We shall fight.

Maghar rises:
....we shall not violate this trust.

He crosses to Kueresh, and clasps his hand.
We shall fight beside you.

One by one, the other kings and cheiftains in the hall begin to rise, and pledge themselves to the cause. It goes on for nearly an hour, with the various tribes each vowing their devotion.

The final tribe is the Muragha, a small clan from the southern part of the homelands.
As the Muragha cheiftain's words fade away, the crowd falls silent.

Gharral stands and rises:
Very well. So is reborn the legacy of our people. So is made the sword that shall deleiver us from bondage, and the sheild that shall keep us from it. So is born the new pride of our race, and the hope for our future. So is forged the Free Federation of Goblin States.

Arise, delegates of the Federation!

As one, the delegates of the council rise.

A great cheer is heard from the castle, and the bells in the belltower ring loudly for the town to hear as runners are sent from the castle to bring word to the corners of the newly declared state.

The word that, on this day, a nation has been born!

[Xerillum]

The man grapples to the inner wall, and dispatches any guards. He sneaks into a sewer and walks toward the meeting hall.

[Renrik]

Some patrolling guards notice the dead guards, and an alarm is raised. The assassin remains unseen.

------

Word of the attack on Mounthaven reaches the city, and runners are sent to the Castle (The newly formed council is currently discussing battle plans).

The goblins atthe catle recieve the news, and word is sent, through a telepath, to the Town.

[Xerillum]

The assassin notices the alarm, and teleports away.

[Renrik]

The building is thoroughly searched, but no assassin found. The guards are buried, and patrols are stepped up.

The council has reached a descision in their war strategy. The armies are being formed.

The GSA advisors in the city are training more troops.

[Renrik]

A large force of goblinoid volunteers from the city and other parts of the Federation has finished training. They stand, rank and file, in the curtyard before the castle, where Redfang adresses them:


I see before me many faces. Many lives, many souls. You came from different tribes, from different lives, but you have gathered here in Darrathal for a single purpose, answering a single call.

When the call went out for soldiers who would defend their people, the sons of the tribes came forward to answer it. They came from the hills and the glens, from lakeshore and woodland. They came here, to this city, to be forged anew, to be transformed into soldiers; into true defenders of their homeland.

You have gone through many trials in your training. You have learned to stand as one, to fight with honor and with discipline, to defend your people. Though you came here as many, I see standing before me one, single entity! One force, united by vows and by blood to stand, to fight, and to die beside one another. You shall be the sword of the People, the sheild of the Federation, the protectors and defenders of the Homeland. Be proud, my brothers, for on this day, you shall take up the the banner of freedom. On this day, you begin your lives anew, as soldiers of your people!


The recruits cheer, and raise their swords in a hail to their general.

[Xerillum]

A dwarven horn sounds in the distance. The full strength of the dwarves of the town, 500,000 dwarves, is near.

[Renrik]

((Whoa... that's... a lot of dwarves.))

messenger rides into the city, his mount ready to collapse beneath him. He runs the rest of the way to the castle, reaching it within about five minutes.

Dwarves! The dwarven army broke pastthe outer defenses! We tried to send messengers earlier, but we couldn;t get through! They're coming! They're comi-

The goblin collapses, exhaustion and bloodloss taking over.

Redfang looks at the messenger in horror. He stands for a moment, then begins shouting orders:

To the walls! Bar the gates! Bring the women and children into the city! Stockpile the food! Fortify the defenses! Every man that can, take up arms! The dwarves have come! The dwarves are upon us! Free goblins! man the walls! Now is the hour! Now comes the final fight! Here at the walls of Darrathal, the fate of our people shall be decided!

The city is instantly put into action, readying the defenses. The infantry troops rush to the wall, and the cavalry stay in reserve to reinforce any breeches. Roofs are wettened, food is piled, and volunteers are armed. In the castle, the seige egines are manned. Mages prepare themselves for magical combat, while psionicists send out mental messages to the goblin tribes of the Federation, attempting desperately to find some force that isn't already engaged in battle on some other front.

All said and done, 10,000 troops stand on the walls of Durrathal to defend their city.

[Renrik]

The next day.

The goblins in the city have finished all preparations.

Dwarven scouts report a large force of goblins, pehaps some 130,000, moving towards the City, who should arrive in fightning condition by sometime around dusk.

A bit of info on the battleground:

Datharral, as is known, sits on a hil overlooking a valley.

To the west of Datharral is the valley. It is mostly clear and unwooded, though it does have some forested areas. One of the roads to Datharal goes through this valley. In the center of the valey is a lake which is fed by the river running north of Datharral, and leads out through a falls on the far side of the valley, down to a ravine.

To the north of Datharral is rocky ground and a river, with one bridge to allow access to the city. The bridge is guarded by a tower, manned by some 500 goblin troops.

East of Datharral is mostly flat land, clear and filled with grasses and other shrubby vegitation, for about four miles until it reaches the slopes of a large mountain. Any gun emplacements on the mountain would be unable to reach Datharral, and Datharral cannot fire onto the mountain.

To the south of Datharral is more of the same flat, grassy land that stretches along a good ways into the distance. The only thing of real concern here is large, wooded region.

--------(N)
-------River
Valley Datharral Grasslands
-------Woods

--------------------------

At the river to the north of Datharral, the goblins in the tower burn down the bridge to stop it from beging used by the dwarves. Then they ready their crossbows and rifles on the north banks of the river, and await the dwarves.

Dwarven scouts report some movement of some type in the woods along the road that goes through the valley towards Datharral.

More movement is reported in the woods to he south of the city.

In the city itself, the seige engines are prepared, and the soldiers are made ready for battle. The city is prepared for this fight.

Far off in the distance, from multiple direction, forces of goblin are preparing to come to the aid of the city.

[Xerillum]

the dwarves take positions on the mountain, inside a large cave complex. the main dwarven general sits down at a table with a war council. they decide a strategy, and another 5,000 mercenaries march into the caves. they move out into the grasslands, assembled in rows and columns. five dragons are at the back of the force, and the five thousand mercs are drow longbows. they wait out of arrow range, and begin besieging the castle with a row of howitzers.

[McBish]

Finn watches the dwarven forces and growls at them. He gives a mighty roar of challange to them.

[Xerillum]

The army ignores Finn, and continues to fire artillery at the castle.

[Renrik]

The howitzer shells slam into the city, blasting buildings to rubble, and causing a sizeable amount of casualties, mostly civilian.

The artillery officer atop the eastern wall looks out at the assembled army as the bombardment commences.
Right.
Arc the shots, long range! Catapults, aim for the drow! Light mortars, aim for the dwarven ranks, and look for clusters! Heavy mortars, take out those guns! Ballistae, keep yourselves at the ready!

The goblins adjust the aim on their catapults and mortars, and return fire on the dwarves, as ordered.

Meanwhile, troops of riflemen go to the wall, and commence fire on the dwarves.

The crossbowmen wait, weapons ready.

The goblins reinforcements begin to close in. To the north of the dwarven troops, a large force of goblin soldiers from the Raknarran have assembled, and are ready to advance, their red-and-green flags blowing in the cold wind. They are backed by a force of Gharrak warriors, as well as hobgoblin soldiers from the Haurrach clan.

To the south of the dwarven forces, something is moving in the woods, but the exact number or type of troops can't be determined.

In the valley, moving up the slopes towards Datharral to reinforce the city itself, is a large force of GSA troops, armed with a medley of crossbows, swords, pikes, and muskets, in grey uniforms mixed with their civilian clothing.

[Rainspattered]

A harrowed looking Grothak, fresh note in his hand, marches in line with the new regiment of GSA volunteers. His disappearance still a mystery, the formidable Orc feels his battlerage growing at the fact that his peopelwere assulted during the time he had to leave. The futility of trying to protect anyone might've frustrated a normal creature, but Grothak had faced it too many centuries for frustration to matter anymore. Rage oursed through him as he marched among the goblins, crushing any stray cannonballs found in one hand just to feel something break. When they arrived upon the Dwarven army, Grothak assured himelf he'd have more to crush than cannonballs.

((Renrik, you should probably contact Ra'Tiel, IC, too. The Undead themselves might not want to get involved in the battle, but the leaders among them would be glad to.))

[Xerillum]

The dwarves spread out, causing minimum casualties. a quarter of the drow die, and the dwarven armor makes the bullets bounce off. A few guns are destroyed, and the whole dwarven army begins to fire AK-47s at the defenders, while a team of snipers do the same.

[McBish]

Finn ducks under the defenses of the wall and moves down towards a gate.

[Renrik]

((I might... though the GSA wouldn't request their help, they would probably find out about the battle anyway, probably through the emmisarries in their forts.))

The defenders on the wall duck down to avoid the AK fire, but the Catapults and Mortars continue their bombardments, specifically focusing on the guns.

The following happens in the woods to the south:
The young soldier looks out to the dwarven forces, and rears his worg about to face the officer.
Now, Kjaroth?
Captain Kjaroth, a battle-hardened worg-rider, gazes out at the dwarves with his one good eye.
Now. They've spread out. There are gaps. Do it now.
The younger soldier nods, and rides off through the woods with a banner in his hands.

The worg-riders in the woods quickly ride forward to about 100 yards within the cover of the trees, and await the signal from their captain.
A horn blows, and the thousand worg-riders begin to trot forward, picking up speed as they continue, hitting a full charge as they break through the cover of the woods, forming into close-knit groups of riders, their spears and swords ready, charging towards the disorganized dwarven lines.

On the ridge to the north, the Raknarran hear the horn, and their banner raises up, and begins to advance, slowly at first, then quickened to a faster pace, eventually turning into a full infantry charge from the north flank.

As the goblin charges push in on the north and south, the GSA forces climbing the slope reach the city to releive the defenders. The Datharral militia and army, along with a fair number of GSA troops, charge out of the city towards the dwarves.

[Flabbicus]

A knowing eye surveys the battle from far away. He lowers his spyglass and compacted it. The knight walks away from the direction of the battle, filled with mixed feelings.

[Rainspattered]

Using his long legs and powerful muscles, Grothak takes long, leaping strides to ensure himself at the front of the GSA forces' ranks, making certain his body will be the first to smash into the Dwarven lines.

[McBish]

Finn charges with them.

[Xerillum]

The dwarves form back into a wall of stone, lowering a hedge of spears at the worg riders. The drow fire poisoned arrows at the worgs, and a battalion of dwarves fire AKs at the charging goblins.

[Renrik]

As the dwarves form ranks again, the artillery goes back to pounding those ranks to maximize dwarven casualties and break holes in the lines.

The worgs pound forward, their ranks taking the arrows, riding over their fallen comrades in their battle fury. With a roar, they crash into the dwarven lines.

A second group of goblins, this time infantry, begin to charge from the woods to the south to back up the worgs.

The goblins charging from the north likewise don't seem to heed the bullets whizzing overhead as their tribesmen fall around them. Continue their charge towards the gun-toting dwarves, reaching them to engage them in close combat, fighting fiercely with a mneagery of melee weapons.

The troops from the GSA likewise charge forward, in their compact squads of troops, advancing at high speed, and hit the dwarven line, pressing forward into the enemy ranks.

As the charging troops reach the dwarven lines, the artillery fire focuses on the center of the dwarven ranks, pounding those troops not yet engaged in combat.

[McBish]

Finn charges into the dwarven lines swing his falcion with all his strength.

[Xerillum]

The dwarven army splits into large groups, each autonomously moving, and the artillery hits a few hundred dwarves. the worg riders ram themselves into a hedge of spears, and the northern flanks fire guns at the advancing goblins. A fleet of airships bomb Datharral with 2000 incendiaries and HEs. A contingent of elf archer mercenaries charge in from the west on horseback, firing 10,000 arrows into the goblins in the south from composite shortbows. The howitzers continue to pound Datharral, and five dwarves are felled by Finn before he runs into a wall of stone armor.

[Rainspattered]

Grothak smashes into the front line of Dwarven gunmen at the head of the GSA golumn, Grabbing any dwarf not quick or smart enough to get out of the way and easily crushing them to death with his bare hands as though they were glass baubles filled with crushed berries. He ignores the greivous wounds of gunfire, feeling nothing but a more intense rage as fragments of his own shattered bones cut into his face and blood starts to cover more and more of his body. His face remains unscathed from bullets, the only part of his body not filled with wounds and soaked in his own blood and that of those around him. His massive body, even for an orc, shields several goblins behind him as bullets continue to pound into his chest and his gigantic, unbelievably muscled arms, one flesh and one metal, swing forw dwarves. A brush from the arms able to crush armour and shatter ribcages, a full blow able to tear a head from stout shoulders, a full on grab leading to a death of crushing agony.

Elsewhere, a bubble of force comes between the city and the mass of falling bombs, with many silhouettes hovering below it, their forms indistinguishable from the premature detonation of the majority of the explosives. Not all were stopped, but hopefully enough to allow the goblins to stop the rest of at least enough so that they city would survive the explosions.
A large number of the figures gradually drift to the ground, while half a thousand more remain floating. As the dust clears and the wall of force dissipates, K'shakh and and his 480 mindless dead can be seen floating above the city.
"Politics be damned, you're our friends," his crackling voice carries above the tide of battle, "And the Dwarves would doubtless march to our door next."
The mindless draw their bows and fire at once, each launching a hollow, pointed tube of magical force filled with impact oil; enough to make a spherical explosion with an 8-foot radius around the area of its impact.
Below them, any goblin from the Deathkeep Garrison who wished to return to defend their newfound nation floats safely, guarded in a shield of force, to the ground.

[McBish]

Finn uses his huge strength and adamintine sword to try to cut through the stone armor wall.

[Xerillum]

it makes a small dent. A large dwarf swings a granite battleaxe at you. THe dwarven general sees the force field, and curses. He Messages the airship captains. time t use the superweapon. The airship drops a large titanium bomb, set to disrupt any magic and scramble the atoms of any goblinoid within a ten mile sphere. Heidenberg uncertainty principle FTW. The oil falls over the no man's land. The howitzers continue to blast the city.

[McBish]

The axe digs into Finn and his eyes turn red and his muscels bulge. He attacks the dwarf or anything that gets in his way.

((Just to let you know that this guy destroyed a 500 or so pound granite rock in one turn with his sword.))

[Rainspattered]

The undead, having demonstrated the power of their weapons on no-man's land, turn, and half face one group of dwarves, half the other. They fire again, and began firing their magically produces arrows at a rate impossible for mortal creatures.
Kayerial sees the falling bomb and knows he must act swiftly. The bomb will disrupt and ignore any magic around it. So casting a spell on the bomb or to stop the bomb isn't the answer. The bomb has to miss the city. Teleporting the bomb out of the way would work, but the bomb would disrupt the magic.
Kayerial's bandages crumple and ruffle as he makes a rare smile. If you can't teleport the bomb away from the target, teleport the target away from the bomb.
Quickening his epic teleportation spell to prevent counterspelling, as if these mortal dwarves could match his magical power, Kayerial teleports the entire goblin city and a good chunk of the land around it elsewehre in the fabric of the universe until the bomb has safely detonated, unless the goblin army does not wish to be teleported.
Throughout the bomb-fall, teleportation, and any ensuing attacks, the undead keep pouring the massively explosive arrows into the dwarven ranks from above.

Grothak howls with rage again as he sees the dent he has made in the dwarven army around him. Soldiers would not come near the tower of gore that once resembled an orc, his body a mess of more bullet holes than even the quickest eye could count. His longer, faster legs allowed him to dart out and dash a few dwarven brains into the earth before they got a chance to make a new circle around him, fearing to get close.

[Xerillum]

The groups surround Grothak, and they open fire. the arrows are dispelled, as the bomb fell, and dispelled all magic within ten miles. out of the range of any bow.

[Flabbicus]

The knight speeds over the crest of the hills surrounding the capitol. He unsheathes his greatsword and lowers it to the height of a dwarf compared to the ground. He charges down into the dwarven ranks, slashing and jabbing any dwarves unlucky enough to be in his way. He uses his other hand to cast various inflict spells on the dwarves who are too far away for him to reach with his sword. He grips the horse with his legs, demonstrating his mastery of mounted combat.

[Xerillum]

The bomb's aftereffects dispel his magic. His sword hits a suit of granite armor.

[Rainspattered]

((Well, actually, if we were more than 10-miles straight above you, it would work, since gravity makes range meaningless, but we weren't that high up, so it doesn't matter.))
The mindless' bows all resist any permenant disjunction, and begin working by the next volley of arrows. If the lingering effects of the bomb still dispell the arrows, the oil of impact they contain is now falling as an explosive rain from the quivers of the undead on the dwarves below as the undead fly directly above the dwarven forces.

Grothak tears a few more dwarves to pieces before he realizes far too many bullets are hitting him for him to keep his pattern of attack up. Touching his metallic left arm, he releases a powerful, non-magical explosive. With all his strength, he lobs it into the middle of the dwarven army. It explodes upon impact with the ground in a massive ball of flame. Using the distraction, he traps his arm again and his hand moves out of the way to reveal a gun prodruding from his wrist. Firing the laser equivalent of a shotgun In front of him, he begins to shoot himself an exit from the dwarven armies, hoping they're too terrified of his explosives and laser weaponry to pursue him.

[Renrik]

At the appearance of the undead, the defenders give out a great cheer.

The incendiary bombs that hit Datharral do devestatting damage on the city's buildings, wrecking houses and causing mayhem. The bombs blast away at streets and structures, collapsing buildings and filling soldier and civilian alike with deadly shrapnel. As the metal flies and the explosions and fire burn all about him, Redfang takes the command with a cool demeanor, walking heedlessly amongst the devestation, shouting orders to the defenders.
Set out those fires! Form a bucket squad! Karrag, focus the the artillery on the dwarven guns! Get the reserves ready! Reinforce that position! We defend the city to the last man! [color]

The artillery pound away at the dwarven gun emplacements.

A second wave of GSA troops charge out of the city towards the dwarven lines.

A small group of elite commandos position themselves on the mountain, and begin to sneak towards the cave wherein the dwarven leadership are planning.

The elves charging the goblins in the woods meet heavy resistance in the form of guerilla bands, fighting the elves as they enter the forest, where their horses provide less of an advantage. They allow them to penetrate into the woods, then surround and charge on them, fighting with melee weapons to kill both horse and elf alike, as others provide sniper fire from their corssbows.

On the dwarven southern flank, the worg-riders and infantry continue their hand-to-hand with the dwarves, taking greivous casualties.

The Racknarran on the north side of the battlefield, engaged in and-to-hand combat with the dwarven troops, suffer the withering effects of the AK-47 fire at their ranks. Kueresh fights on, his troops gathering around his banner to press further into the dwarven ranks, over the bodies of their fallen tribesmen.

On the ridge to the north, Maghar looks on the battle, at the Racknarran charge.
[color=Maroon] Kueresh... old enemy, newer friend... now is the hour of your need.

He surveys down his ranks, the soldiers of the Gharrak assembled, ready to fight.

I swore an oath, Kueresh... I cannot let this happen. We fight by you.

He mounts once more onto his worg, and rides down the line, his standard-bearer following him.

Gharrak! Below awaits the enemy! The dwarves, who have driven us from our homes, and taken away our lands! Now is the hour of vengance upon them! Our borthers of Racknarran need our aid, my tribesmen! Now is the hour we fulfill our oath, and show our value! Now is the hour we fight!

He stops, and wheels about his worg, facing the dwarven lines, then draws out his sword, and charges down the slope towards the battle.

[color=Maroon] For Gharrak! [color]

His tribe echo his cry, and pound after him, a wave of green charging across the cold ground at the dwarven lines, to aid the Racknarran warriors. The hobgoblin mercenaries follow suit, outpacing the goblins and crashing into the dwarven lines.

((VV bloody fine work! If he lives, we'll have to promote him to colonel! If not, then Nithrik counts among the great martyrs of our people!))

[Flabbicus]

The bomb's aftereffects dispel his magic. His sword hits a suit of granite armor.

(( Er, what? You specified that they made a wall of stone towards the city, not that they made granite armor. Furthermore he was riding and striking at several targets at once, so there is no way that his entire assault was halted by his sword bouncing off a single suit of stone armor. Please explain. ))

[Rainspattered]

Nithrik had prepared himself for death when he felt a strong hand grab himand fling him from the oncoming barrage of AK fire. The hand had covered him in blood, orc and dwarven, by the smell. Dwarves didn't have his keen nose, and so they couldn't tell the blood wasn't his. He landed behind their ranks and none gave him a second thought as he nimbly rolled tiny amounts to avoid their feet crushing him to death and played dead, waiting for his time to make a difference. The knife in his right hand -- maybe it was a dagger, Nithrik couldn't remember the difference in the heat of the moment-- was named "The Crown is Shattered," in an old goblin tongue, and today the Goblin hoped it would live up, at least vaguely, to its name. So he bided his time, rolling in a thick pool of orcish blood and the dwarven blood with an almost painfully high pH. He scowled at the thought that it was probably bleaching his grey sash, and kept the expression to simulate a grimace of death from any dwarves who might look his way. He waited further as the dwarves advanced, until he stood below a centurion or lieutenant or whatever name the dwarves gave those in charge of large groups of their Professional Murderers. Knowing the dagger, an artifact among the goblins as the blade that once cut down a king who kept all the world's goblins enslaved through his enchanted armour, could cut through even the fine dwarven plate, Nithrik prepared himself again for death and rolled silently to his side, pushing himself up with one arm and slashing brutally at the tendons behidn the centurion's knee, angling the blade such that it would hamstring the other leg after it cut the first. As he flew into the air, knife cutting at the dwarf, Nithrik extended the blades on his hand claw and tesnsed all the muscles on his left side, preparing to balance himself after the blade cut through the dwarf's legs, but before Nithrik's feet hit the ground. He'd need incredible precision, although the landing would be mostly for show, since he'd be dead moments later, anyway, in all likelyhood. Grinning, now, Nithrik let out a cackle and held his breath in anticipation of the feeling of evil flesh tearing below his knife and the chaos that would befall this section of the army when some "lowly goblin" cut down their leader before their eyes.

[Renrik]

((Where's Xerillium? He needs to reply, so the battle can continue.))

[Rainspattered]

((Seriously. I've got what's going to happen with Nithrik and Grothak all planned out for several different outcomes. I'm really ready to get on with it.))

[McBish]

((Yeah. Hey I haven't posted since his last post. Huh, oh well.))

Finn attempts to break through the wall and then will try to go down the line to let the other goblins get pass through the front line.

[Renrik]

((Xerillium! Post here, so the battle can continue! If you don;t we shall have to asume that all the dwarves spontaneously mutiny against their commanders, sack their own city, and declare war as Aszarkia. Not really. But we will have to keep waiting a really long time, we'll continue formulating strategies and recruiting soldiers, and eventually we'll probably start posting without you. So post.))

[Xerillum]

((Sorry. Computer fried. That's what you get when you leave it on in a storm.))
Anyways...
The leader falls, but the dwarves do not see it. The commander takes command of the section, and thrusts his pike into Nithrik. A large force of dwarves charge the oncoming troops with bayonets and 12 foot pikes.

A booby trap on the mountain springs, setting off a barrel of gunpowder under the commandos. The elves are crushed from all sides by the guerilla bands, but each ruins their gun.

[Flabbicus]

((*Cough* Missed my query. ))

[Renrik]

THE NORTHERN FLANK
The charging goblins meet the charging dwarves head-on attacking in disciplined, determined ranks, hacking forward with all manner of weaponry against the dwarves ((in other words, heavy fighting ensues)

The troops defending the tower join with a battalion of Datharral militia and goblins from the battlehardened Drannakh tribe, and charge into the melee on the north side of the battlefeild, pressing into their flank while the soldiers of Racknarran, Gharrak, and the hobgoblin mercenaries press their front.



THE SOUTHERN FLANK
The infantry and worg riders on the southern flank break off their combat and retreat to the woods, under cover fire from the crossbows and newly-captured longbows of the guerillas, to regroup. Kjaroth, geivously wounded, surveys his forces, many of whom are wounded or have been dismounted.
Damn it all... he turns to face his men, geting off of his wounded worg and walking before them, his bloodstained sword in hand. Regroup. This isn't over.

A young goblin steps forward, gazing at the commander through his one good eye, the other swollen shut by a dwarven axe blow that ricocheted off of his helmet. Why? We can't win. They form their ranks too fast. If they spread out, they'll form up again before we can get 'em. No point.

The commander strides over to the wounded goblin and looks him in the eye: What did you say?

There's no point in it. We'll all be killed.

All killed? There are worse fates. There are worse fates than martyrdom.

He adresses his troops: There are worse fates than going down fighting. There are worse fates than dying for a cause you beleive in. Than falling to protect your homes and your people. There are worse fates than that. I can think of one. Surrender. Surrender is a worse fate than martyrdom. Allowing the enemy to enter your homes, to kill your people, to burn your houses. But there are worse fates even than that. Submission! To live a slave! To submit oneself to your enemy's bidding, to do as he would have you do, and aid him in his evil! That is the worst of fates. And that shall be our fate, should we not fight this day.

...When you joined this federation, you became free goblins. You may do as you will, live in slavery or die free.

He mounts back onto his worg:
As for myself, I choose a martyr's death.

The troops fall silent, and a realization of their fate settles over them. They silently regroup, ready their weapons, and prepare, with the grim finality and certainty of those ready to face their deaths, prepare to charge again.

The situation in the city itself under control, bombardment begins on the dwarve's southern flank.


THE CENTER
The GSA and Federation troops continue their assault, ignoring their casualties, biting into the dwarven ranks with ruthless abandon and shocking feirocity.

THE REAR
In the rear of the dwarven army, behind the mountain, a few cells of light skirmishers appear, bearing the colors of Knacklaw's forces.

[McBish]

Finn breaks away with the southern flank. Follow me in. I'll break their ranks. He readys his sword and stands at the front of the goblins getting ready to charge.

[Xerillum]

When the southern flank of dwarves closes in on the enemy, they fire their guns at point blank. A large artillery emplacement to the west fires a 2 megaton non-nuclear bomb at the woods. And the wall of stone is figurative. It's the dwarven line's armor. Which is stone.

[Rainspattered]

Grothak's flight stops on the hinge of a single goblin shreik and turns to see the engineer who helped him learn to use his arm hoisted on a pike above the body of a slain commander. Firing in a different direction and charging to Grothak, he takes worse wounds from the AKs. Bullets hit his left leg so often it hangs on by a thread, unrecognizable as a limb or anything more than a slab of bloody meat. A dwarven axe in close range severs the limb, but Grothak's powerful arms take over where his legs cannot, using dwarven helms as hurdles, crushing the head as he leaps from on temporary living crutch to another. Bullets riddle Nithrik's body and he starts to look dazed from the blood loss. Grothak can't feel his own through the fury.
His orc tusks impaling the body of the dwarf holding Nithrik on his pike, he howls an unintelligeable roar of "how does it feel?" before slamming the dwarf to the ground and crushing his ribcage in with his knee as he falls. With his last ounce of strength, he flings Nithrik onto the net of force created by K'shakh, hoping the force isn't enough to kill the poor wounded goblin.
He smiles at the dwarfs around him. "I'm going to see my daughter," he tells them as the level their AKs. "I've missed a lot of her birthdays, but I'll bring her 100 dwarfs as a present for every one."
"You an what army?" some dwarf scoffs, readying his rifle to shoot.
"Yours," Nithrik growls, blood spewing from his mouth. He twists a finger on his left arm, the mechanical one.
The worgs, maybe a few of the very young, hear a shrill keening, inspiring them through mere auditory discomfort, rather than magic, to flee. Any riders of those worgs have a similar idea a minute later as the signal grabs the bomb in an electromagnetic field of technology far from the future, pulling it rapidly to Grothak's location: The middle of the Dwarven ranks.

K'shakh sees the manuever with the bomb and rapidly works to ensure its success, flinging all the spells of horrible, epic power he can at the dwarven defensive casters as fast as he can. They'll be killed before they can counterspell the bomb or they'll have to waste time counterspelling his own magical assault until the bomb hits. Too add to the difficult, he disacharges a wand, and a massive dome of blue light appears above the dwarven forces. It'll help to conceal the blast from hitting most of the goblins, keep a lot of the dwarves from running, and make the time to move the bomb that much faster.
He nodded appreciatively as the bomb rapidly picked up speed at an exponential rate. This wouldn't be so hard after all. A look of sadness corsses hsi face for all the GSA troops trapped within the dome, but looking at the dwarven forces outnumbering them by so many, he tries to remind himself it was a suicide mission to begin with. When that doesn't help, he forces it from his head with years of concentration and returns to casting. His ethical crisis can be solved when the fate of the wrongly assaulted goblin people isn't at stake.

[Renrik]

((don't greive for them. They're volunteers. Martyrdom was their fate, no matter the outcome. They are happy.))

As the dome surrounds the goblins fighting in melee with the dwarves, a cheer goes out and they press the attack harder.


THE NORTHERN FLANK
On the north flank, the goblins of Gharrak reach their old enemies, the goblins of Racknarran. Kueresh, wounded, his broken spear in hand, standing over the bodies of worg, friend, and foe alike, fights off three dwarves, didging and stabbing. The first swings his axe, and the goblin lord ducks, and stabs at his knee. The dwarf falls back, and Kueresh leaps forward, doging to the side as the second dwarf hacks at him. He stabs at the new attacker, only to be flung backward by the hammer-blow of the third dwarf. He lands with a sickening thud. The dwarf stands over him, hammer in hand. You die now, goblin scum.

He raises his hammer, and-

-is knocked off of his feet by the blur that is Maghar, the lord of Gharrak, charging into his side. The dwarf is knocked off-balace by the attack, and Maghar drives his shortsword into the dwarve's throat.

I've been trying that for years, dwarf. If I can;t kill him, nobody can.

Maghar helps Kueresh back to his feet, and the two rally their forces and press onward, as the reinforcements from the tower bite into the flank.


THE SOUTHERN FLANK
On the southern flank, the battered worg-riders, infantry, and guerillas, having taken the AK fire and fired back with crossbow and more, prepare to charge the dwarven line when the signal sounds.
No... The bomb's turning! Back to the woods! Let it kill the dwarves, then we fight the remainder!

They flee deeper into the forest, to the side of the woods overlooking the valley, and regroup, on Kjaroth's orders.

When the bomb hits, be ready to charge!


IN THE CENTER
The attack continues, the GSA soldiers pushing forward against the dwarves, ignoring pain and fear, ignoring the blood and sweat, keeping their minds solely on the enemy before them and the weapons in their hands.


THE REAR

The scouts of Knacklaw's forces retreat, and soon return, with light infantry and forward cavalry, leading the way as the warlord's forces begin to arrive, and form up behind the mountain, preparing to advance on the dwarves.

THE CITY

The bombardment from the mortars and seige engines continues, aiming at the dwarven spellcasters.

The next wave of GSA troops, joined by tribal forces and the Datharral milita, prepare their assault.

[McBish]

Finn gets ready to charge with the rest of the southern flank.

[Xerillum]

The General uses his wand to create a bubbnle in space-time, and transfer the whole army somewhere else for the whole of the bomb detonating.

The ground rumbles as, two thousand feet below, a large fleet of Dwarven Tunnelers bore through the ancient bedrock toward Dattharral, carrying a deadly payload of 100,000 troops, ready to fight. THe fleet is completely sheilded by the bedrock.

[Flabbicus]

Olbrecht lets out a cry of anger and suddenly swipes at a line of advancing dwarves, attempting to cut off their heads and see if the stone did not completely stop him from harming them. The tendrils of magic escaping from his left hand sharpen to form talonlike projectiles and the gray knives fly towards the nearest dwarves, embedding themselves into their chests and passing through the armor as if they were silk.

(( Geez, you keep piling on the dwarves. I don't think the goblins can take such a ridiculously large number with such out of place and advance weaponry on at once. ))

[Renrik]

((^ Werd, my knightly brother. Werd in the highest.))

As the bomb drops, the goblins within the bubble retreat to the periphery thereof, just out fo the bomb's blast.


When the dwarves reappear, their newly reorganized ranks are waiting, and immediately smash into the dwarven lines, fighting with an unheard-of fury.

SOUTHERN FLANK
As the army reappears, the worg riders and infantry on the southern flank of the dwerven lines begin to advance, going quickly through the woods and emerging, with surprising strength of numbers, on the dwarven southern flank, charging in at them, their spears dripping red with dwarven and elven blood, ready to kill all dwarves who stand in their way.

They crash into the dwarven line, driving forward relentlessly, fatally, with no regard for pain, for fear. They fight onward, with the deadly intensity of those who have accepted their deaths, and have embraced martyrdom.

NORTHERN FLANK
On the northern flank, the armies of Racknarran and Gharrak reach the reinforcements from the flank and combine, driving deeper towards the dwarven center.

CENTER
The troops of Datharral continue to push forward, hacking deeply into the dwarven ranks.

REAR
The army of the warlord Knacklaw has appeared on the rear of the dwarven army, some 200,000 well-trained, battle-hardened guerilla forces supported by light infantry and worg cavalry. Knacklaw looks out over his army, at the mountain, undefended from his angle of a atttack.

A grin breaks out across the grizzled warlord's face.

A battle without us? That's most unkind. Take the mountian. Kill every dwarven b*stard on it. Then we fight their army.

The troops advance, quickly, silently, en mass, on the undefended mountain, heading for the dwarven generals. They find the entrances to the save wherin the goblins are, and storm into it, ready to kill, with righteous vengance, the orchestrators of the massacre of their people.


THE CITY
The mortar and seige weapon bombardment continues, blasting into the dwarven artillery.

The tunnels below the goblin capitol begin to rumble as the Dwarven Tunnelers approach, and the glass in the bowls, placed to detect undermining, begins to ripple. The goblin scorcerers beneath the city kow what to do in the contingency of an undermining attempt. Quickly, as a whole, they cast a single spell, centered on the direction of the dwarven tunnelers, and aimed to do maximum damage to the oncoming machines and crew that spell is Earthquake.

A massive, focused quake rips through the line from the tunnels to the dwarven tunnelers, collapsing the machine's tunnels, crshung the machinery, jamming the tracks, and trapping the crew. The quake leaves the city above unaffected, focused as it is.

At that exact moment, the swarm of earth elementals, summoned by the volunteer clerics of Inarri, descend upon the hapless dwarves, ripping the tunneler's doors open, and swarming inside, crushing down on the dwarven crews therein, leaving the dwarves therin trapped under a mile of earth, in a crushed box, being hunted down by earth elementals.

[McBish]

((Yeah time bubble...))

Finn is in the front ranks using his huge strength to clear a path for goblins and Worgs. He pushes as deep as he can into the dwarven army.

[Renrik]

The cavalry follows, widening and explioting the gap he creates, as the infantry surges through said gap. The cavalry and infantry storm into the broke dwarven formations, cutting down dwarves as they go.

[Xerillum]

5000 dwarves die, and the dwarves fire HKs in close combat, with machetes as side weapons. The antimagic armor blocks the earthquake, but 10 tunnelers are subdued by the elementals. The dwarves, their line broken, artillery shattered, and no reinforcements available, scramble to close the line, but another 500 dwarves are killed. The tunnelers pass under the city walls and begin ascending the 2,000 feet to the surface. When they break the surface, 90,000 Dwarven Marines attack the city from the inside, by setting it aflame. The dwarves in the center fight furiously, pumping clips upon clips into the goblins. They come across a room, with a charred table, a pile of ashes that was the battle plan, and a dead general, who, upon seeing the goblins, committed seppuku. THe knight kills about 10 more dwarves, and fatally wounds another. The army spreads and attaks with relentless fury, attacking every goblinoid in sight.

[McBish]

Finn not being a goblinoid continues to cut down dwarves by the hand full. His wounds do not seem to slow him down.

[Xerillum]

A dwarf near finn, fatally wounded, presses a small red button, deep within his armor. A large ion bomb detonates, spraying superheated plasma everywhere.

[McBish]

Large portions of Finn's flesh is peeled away from his skin but he doesn't fall. He continues to fight.

[Xerillum]

A dwarf fires an assault rifle into finn.

[Rainspattered]

The general is swarmed by easily fifty epic spells at once, a bust used in addition to the normal blast to stop the dwarven spellcasters. Vowing he would pay for wating Grothak's sacrifice, K'shakh raises the rubble created by the bomb and teleports it into the tunnels of the dwarves, transmuting it to stone at the same instant. Not the sort of stone one may simply burrow through with dwarven ingenuity. Well, that's not precisely true, the stone is mundane. The fact the it materialized inside the dwarves as much as out is less so. In the stone they have built their lives around, the entire army of dwarven tunnelers is now suffocating them to death.
Continuing his barrage of spells to prevent any counterspelling at the cost of the Dwarven mages' lives, he enacts his powers of spells without hand motions and descends into combat to battle physically while he intones to words of power to cast spells rapidly enough to duel an army of dwarven casters while releasing epic area-of-effect spells into the dwarven midsts.

The undead's rain of explosions continues, pounding the unenganged portions of all dwarven ranks with force arrows filled with oil of impact.

"Well, with everyone bringing in reinforcements," a finely dressed skeleton laughs, stepping out of seemingly nowhere to one of Datharral's battlements, I suppose I should bring some of my own. Aercath casts for a moment, and then, all at once, every corpse on the field of battle stands up and does battle with the dwarves, their strength and speed the peak of sorcery, unmatchable by any mortal. Headless dwarves and bullet-riddled goblins charge behind worg riders and start stabbing, shooting, or simply tearing the dwarven legions apart in their mindless undead bloodlust.
If one of the corpses falls, it simply rises again, truly deathless. Severed hands grasp to the ankles of dwarves and trip them in the midst of combat. Severed legs and arms act as shields for their goblin allies or a more grotesque version of Animated Weapons, blocking and bludgeoning against the dwarves dwarves.
"The really funny thing is, no-matter how many goblins you kill, their numbers don't decrease," Aercath points out to the dwarves from afar, far too quietly for them to have heard without magical scrying, "And everyone of you that falls adds to their numbers. Not that you're listening. Not that, even if you were listening in, you would be listening to me. After all, I'm just an undead. One of those monsters you're supposed to eradicate. What could I possibly know about tactics that all your dwarven wisdom doesn't."
Though Aercath has no eyes, those around him feel as if they are rolling when he makes the statement.

[McBish]

Finn is hit by several bullets but still he presses on cleaving through nearby dwarves his eyes blood red.

[Renrik]

((You know, with all this expensive technology (howitzers, AKs, bombs, antimagic armor, high-level wizards, etc., the dwarven kingdom must have pretty much no money left, especially when you factorin our ecent attacks on dwarven economic targets. Do they even have enough money left to feed their populace?))

SOUTHERN FLANK
The goblins behind Finn are heartened by the tenacity of the great warrior, and fight with even greater vigor than before, hacking dwarves apart as they charge through the dwarven lines, ignoring all fear of death, their only goal the death of the opressors of their homeland.

THE REAR
On the rear, the forces of Knacklaw take the hill, and look down at the hard-pressed dwarven forces below them.

The time is now...
Mortars! Set up ont he mountain! Aid the Datharral mortar teams! Cavalry, charge for the gaps! Infantry, move in! Charge!

Knacklaw's forces charge, the well-rested, battle-hardened troops smashing into the dwarven army, overwhelming the first defenders and fighting savagely inward to the dwarven lines.

NORTHERN FLANK
On the northern flank, the combined forces of Datharral, Racknarran, and Gharrak press forward against their weary enemies, biting further into their ranks.

THE FRONT
On the front of the dwarven army, the GSA troops continue their adavce, pushing the dwarves back inch by inch.

(as a whole, the dwarves are being pressed by all sides and hemmed in.)

The artillery placed on the mountain and on the walls of Datharral commence firing into the center of tightly-packed dwarven ranks.

THE CITY
Redfang sits with a contingent of GSA troops and Datharral militia.
They'll be coming up through here. Remember, whatever happens, we defend Datharral unto death! No retreat! No quarter! The invaders shall be killed to the man!
As the tunnelers burst through the ground, the goblins are waiting for them, forwarned by the troops in the tunnels.
They take the initial hail of fire, and charge in, vastly outnumbering the dwarves, charging onto the dwarven positins to overrun them from all sides, fighting fiercely with sword, spear, and musket bayonet.

Citizen's brigades work to extinguish the fires, attempting to stop the spread of the flames throughout the cities.

[Xerillum]

((hmm, I think they have about 500,000 gp left.))

the 490,000 dwarves left are pounded, as they try to stand their ground.

The general, nearly dead, gives one last order two the dwarven army: "Retreat." The dwarves charge to the west, trying to retreat. THe dwarvs use the tunnelers as cover, as they fire assault rifles at the attackers, trying to hold them back. Machine guns and artillery on the tunnelers fire shells and bullets at the goblins. Wounded dwarves are taken back to the vehicles, to be treated. A large airship floats about 40,000 feet in the air, cloakes, and silent, waiting for the orders.

[McBish]

Finn chases the retreating dwarves for a while before he exits his frenzy and staggers and falls to the ground.

[Renrik]

((Oh no. It's not gonna be THAT easy! Not after what you did to our city!))

The goblin mages cast another round of Earthquakes, collapsing the tunnels and trapping the dwarves. The goblins wait around the periffery of the dwarves, preventing retreat while the artillery pounds their some more. The goblins fire bows and rifles into the dwarven ranks.

In the city, the goblins continue to assault the tunnelers, their numbers and the savagery of their attack giving no quarter for the outnumbered dwarves.

There will be no surrender. There will be no retreat. The goblins want justice for their kin.

[Flabbicus]

The knight breaks into a sort of rough smile as he sees the dwarven formations around him break down in their retreat. Emboldened by the fear visible in their eyes he raises his sword to the air, channeling a powerful lightning bolt through it, which should send some minor shockwaves out to the dwarves around him. From the cloud that the lightning came from descends a figure with metallic wings outstretched, gazing on the battlefield placidly.

It raises its arms and a massive torrent of electricity and negative energy waves over the dwarven troops, which should deal a fair amount of damage.

[McBish]

Finn lies on the battle feild half of his flesh has been torn off his body is riddled with bullet holes.

[Xerillum]

The dwarves are crushed under the attack, with only 200,000 left. They charge the goblins, in an attempt to retreat. In the city, The dwarves are barely holding their positions. They crowd into the heavvily armored, near-impenetrable tunnelers, and drive through the goblins, their swords being dented by the adamantine hull. The airship receives one of the two orders needed to operate the weapon. One pass code remains to be entered. Slowly, the highest dwarven generals say their character, until there is one flashing cursor, Xerillum's.

[Renrik]

((didn;t we kill one of the highest dwarven generals, thus causing him to be unable to take part in the sequence and ruining it?))

The goblins hold their line, not allowing the dwarven to pass. The cloase in and engaged the dwarves hand-to-hand once more, this time greatly outnumbering them and pressing in n all sides, with a great deal of vigor.

The goblin medics and the clerics of Inarri walk among other parts of the battlefeild, beyond where the battle is still taking place, and collect the wounded to bring them to feild hospitals. A cleric of Inarri stops at Finn, By the Goddess, that's horrible.
The cleric bends over Finn to check if the warrior can still be saved, ro if he has passed forever into the realm of the Martyrs.

The goblin mages in the city open up Dimsenion Doors right in front of the dwarven tunnelers, too soon for the things to swearve and avoid, bringing them up high into the air above the valley, and letting them drop the 1000 or more feet to the valley floor (the tanks might survive, but the dwarves in them won't!))

[McBish]

Finn is dead. But it seems like he can probably come back.

[Renrik]

The cleric carries the martyred warrior off to the feild hospital, and lays him on a white sheet another cleric attempts to commune with his spirit, to determine his wishes.

[McBish]

I wouldn't mind coming back. Thanks. Is the response.

[Xerillum]

The vehicles are crushed on the ground, a lone dwarf surviving with no left hand. Xerillum sends a message to the dwarven airship: I will never give up my key. You will not use the weapon. No matter what cowardly threat you send me, Gulder, I will never give you the chance to wipe out a nation. He recieves a message back: this time, visual. Very well. Watch your daughter die before your eyes. You are the reason why she will die. You and your stubbornness. THe view switches to an executioner holding an axe above the head of a young woman. The axe swings down, and slices through the girl's neck. Now you see what your stubbornness gets you. You are a monster. Xerillum falls off of his horse, and weeps. He messages the commader of Aszarkian troops, and within minutes, the force is assembled. Xerillum rides at the front crashing into the dwarves with fury. He beheads them and kills 50 of them. The dwarven weapons barely scratch his armor. With bloodlust, he swings swords with lightning speed, cutting down the middle of the dwarven line. He rides dwn the center, killing dwarves left and right. He comes across the main general, and thrusts his sword into his neck, the sword killing the general. He disebmowels thee general, and lays out his organs.

[Renrik]

The clerics get to work patching up Finn's body, then resurrect the warrior.

The guerilla bands in the valley hunt down the dwarf and surround him, allowing him the chance to surrender.

The goblins take note of the Aszarkian forces, and allow them to do their work.

On the plateau above, the battle has ended.

Redfang looks out over the battlefeild. The city of Datharral is over half in ruins, burnt and decimated by the bombing and the fires. The castle, large chunks of wall missing, still stands, and the troops still man it, along with the rest of the posts in the city.

The battlefeild itself is another matter entirely. Combined casualties of both armies, over a million bodies, dwarven and goblin alike, lie dead on the plain stretching before the city. The river runs red and black with blood under the burnt bridge to the north. To the south, the woodlands are blasted and partially burned, and corpses everywhere among the trees. Corpses warped by magic, rended by blade, skewered by spear and arrow, and blasted by shell. They are a hideous and ghastly sight.

The survivng soldiers do not look so well, either. Bloodstained, wounded, and tired, but victorious, they have hardly the energy to celebrate their victory. Indeed, the idea of their victory has not yet fully dawned upon them. All they know is that they are tired, and that there are no more enemies left.

Of the leaders of the battle, Kjoreth is slain. Maghar and Kueresh are both horribly wounded and maimed. Redfang himself has taken wounds during the fight inside the city, as has Nalthar. Indeed, only Knacklaw is unscathed.

The soldiers of the GSA and of the Federation look about, the realization of their victory finally settling in.

They are silent. A palpable, shocked silence, as if nobody knew what to say. Indeed, none did.

Then the cheer. Quiet at first, just one low-ranking soldier. Then it spread, to a dozen. Then to the whole company, then the brigade. Soon the whole of the army was cheering. No words, no speeches. Just a cheer. A long, lasting cheer. A cheer of victory, of freedom, of unspeakable joy. A cheer that rang through the valley and the mountains alike.

For there, before the gates of Datharral, was the nation truly born.

[McBish]

Finn wakes up and seems unfazed by being killed. How goes the battle?

[Xerillum]

40,000 feet in the air-

Onboard the airship, the techies try to raid the computer system, and succeed. The soldiers dump the body in the trash tank, and enter the stolen key. They open the bomb doors, and drop a shiny metal cylinder: An H-bomb.

((gota go. Night.))

[Renrik]

((oh, screw it. They've done this at least fifty times, we get to do it once, too.))

A goblin mage notices the H-bomb falling and casually opens a gateway to Hell in it's path, lets it drop through, and closes the portal.

I wonder what that bomb was, anyway?

He walks down the rubble-strewn pallisade and into the city, to help with the cleanup.

-----
The cleric looks at Finn, his ears perked up and his kitsune eyes flashing
We won, in no small part to your actions on the southern flank. The goblin people owe you a debt of honor, Finn. I beleive that Redfang has chosen you for some manner of honor, to be presented tomorrow at the palace. Until then, though. You ought to rest. Resurrection is costly, and I don;t want you going and getting killed now.

[McBish]

Ok then. Glad to hear we won. I think a little nap wouldn't be a bad thing. Wake me if more fighting breaks out.

[Renrik]

The cleric smiles

Don;t want to miss any action, do you? We'll wake you if anything happens, Finn.Don;t worry about that.

The medics also find the decimated bodies of Grothak and Nithrik, or rather, what remains. The peices are carried off, and prepared for a military funeral of honor for the two martyrs. (to be given tomorrow)
----
Nithrik's dagger is found by Nalthar. He picks it up
I recognize this from somewhere...

The goblin captain brings the dagger to the castle for identification by the sages there. (It will be identified tomorrow, I suppose.)
-----
K'shakh is greeted by Redfang

Welcome to Datharral, old friend. Good work up there. Were not for you, there wouldn;t be much to welcome anybody to!

He becomes serious

We're glad you're here, K'shakh.

[McBish]

Nope I don't, it's what I live for. Finn sits back and closes his eyes.

[Renrik]

THE NEXT DAY

The celebrations of the night before have given way to a somber sense of duty, and of the tasks that lie ahead. The rebuilding of the city has begun, as have the gathering of the goblin dead. A mass grave has been prepared for them. A military funeral commences. All the soldiers, all the clerics, regardless of their station, cease their actions to attend, in full uniform, the funeral.

The dead are layed into the ground with the beating of a drum to guide them into the next life.

At a large circle of stone in front of the grave, Redfang stands. When the last of the soldiers are laid into the ground, he speaks:


Comrades, we are gathered here to day to mourn the passing of our brothers in arms. It is a bittersweet passing, for as we mourn the deaths of our comrades, we celebrate their lives, their deeds, and we know also that when they died, they did so not just as soldiers, but as martyrs.
I need not speak of who they are, for we knew them. Brothers, sons, fathers. Workers, scholars, farmers, and all of them soldiers. When their people needed them most, they fought. They fought not because they were forced to. They fought not out of greed or out of hatred. They fought for the noblest of causes; they fought for freedom. They fought out of love for their people. They fought for a future free of opression, where their children, and the children of all people, could live free. They fought, and they died, for liberty.

[Rainspattered]

((No bodies are "lying" anywhere. You remember how Aercath is raising them all?))

Aercath waves his hand, and all the Goblin Alliance bodies return to rest. The dwarves remain animated. Aercath is unconcerned with their fate.

"We're glad to help our Goblin Brothers. We've been outcasts everywhere we've been for our race, we know how persecution feels. We will always stand against the dwarven actions. Besides, all I lost was a day's allotment of spells. A meditation will recoup our losses. For your armies, the same cannot be said, I fear," K'shakh replies, looking down. "Many goblins were slain wrongly this day."

Nithrik wakes up, his body broken and mangled, half or more of his blood gone, on the ground, surrounded by the Goblins who were garrisoned at the Deathkeep and an army of mindless undead.
"My dagger?" he asks before lapsing into unconsciousness.

[McBish]

Finn wakes up and goes to attend the funerals. He watches and remembers all the funerals like this he has seen. He stares into the sky a bit.

[Renrik]

((ah. Woops. Missed that part. I ought to read more carefully. Heh heh.))

Nalthar walks over to Finn:
You should get ready. You don't want to miss your awards ceremony tonight.
----
Redfang answers K'shakh:
They died as martyrs. By their blood have our people been liberated. They have given their lives for freedom.

And many more would have made the same sacrifice, if it were not for your actions. We owe you much, friend. You and your people shall never be turned away here. You are always welcome in these lands. The Federation, indeed the goblin people, are proud to call you our allies, and our glad to call you our friends.
------
A cleric spots Nithrik:
He's alive!

The cleric takes him to the hospital tent, where his wounds are treated.

The ranking cleric walks into the tent, and to Nithrik's bed.

So there he is. A hero, that one. A great hero. I think we have something that belongs to him. One of the officers found it on the feild.

The cleric puts The Crown is Shattered on the table next to Nithrik

A suitable weapon for one as brave as he. May it serve him well. Though, the council has decided to honor him first. The ceremony is later today. He'd better get his rest.

-------

Kharrouk looks out at the army of undead dwarves, standing motionless on the field before Datharral.

He can't help but chuckle to himself.
----------
Preparations are being made for the ceremony of honors later today.

[McBish]

I suppose I don't. He seems a bit more serious than most have seen him.

((Also I only have about 2 hours till I am off for the night probably.))

[Renrik]

((In that case, since nothig of importance happens before the ceremony.... and we'll assume Nithrik and K'Shakh make it and are in attendance...))

LATER THAT DAY, OUTSIDE THE CASTLE

The Federation and GSA troops are gathered in the courtyard, in full uniform. The drum is once more playing, and the delgates of the Federation are assembled to watch the ceremony. Gharral, the head councilmember, stands on the raised steps leading up to the castle.


In all the years of warfare I have seen, I have seldom met a group of soldiers so great as those who stand before me. No more selfless or devoted company of men have I ever seen than those who it is my honor to stand among here today. It is for your valor, your sacrifices, and your courage in battle, that the Council of the Federation has chosen to honor you today. These honors, though they may be little more than titles and medals, carry with them a a weight. Let all know that those who carry these honors fought here today, and let them know that it is by their blood, and by their courage, that a people were set free.

Every single one of you took part in the defense of this city, and in the ideas that the Federation stands for. As such, not one shall remain unrewarded. To all soldiers, living or dead, that took place in the battle, it is my honor to present the Colors of Datharral


the amulet, a steel circle with the emblem of Datharral mixed with the emblem of the Federation, hung on a white cord, is handed out

To all those wounded in the battle, the Blood of the People
The medal is bronze, shaped likea drop of blood, with a red ribbon hanging from it.

Gharral continues, giving out medals to various soldiers and officers

((I'l skip most of that, because it would take hours to type, and I don;t want to think of about 50 more medals))

To Kjoroth Worglame, posthoumously, in honor of his service on the feild of battle leading the cavalry of the Federation, we award the Sheild of the People and the Blood of the Martyr (steel sheild with green and red ribbons and golden blooddrop, red stone inlaid, with red ribbons.)


To Maghar, Lord of the Gharrak, in honor of his command of the Gharrak forces, we award the Arms of the People,the title of Colonel, and the title Knight of the People
(The arms of the people is a steel sheild with a blade upon it, with red and green ribbons)

To Kueresh, Lord of the Racknarran, in honor of his command of the Racknarran froces, we award the Arms of the People, the title of Colonel, and the title Knight of the People.

To Nalthar, in honor of his actions in defense of the city, we award the Sheild of the People and the title of Captain.

To Kharrouk, we award the Sheild of the People and the title of General.

To Redfang, we award the Arm of the People.

To Knacklaw, in recognition of his actions in defense of the Federation, we award the Arm of the People, and the title of General

To Finn, in recognition of his valorous deeds on the feild of combat and his actions in the defense of the Federation and the city of Datharral, we award the Arm of the People, and the title Protector of the People.

To Olbrecht, in recongition of his valorous deeds on the feild of combat, we award the Sheild of the People and citizenship to the Free Federation of Goblin States

To Nithrik, in recognition of his valorous deeds on the feild of combat and actions in defense of the Federation, we grant the Sheild of the People and the title Protector of the People.

To our allies Aercath and K'Shakh, in recongition of his deeds in protection of the Federation and the city of Datharral, we award the Sheild of the People and citizenship to the Free Federation of Goblin States.

To Grothak, posthoumously, in recongition of his valorous deeds on the feild of combat in defense of the people, we award the Arm of the People, the Blood of the Martyr, and the title Protector of the People.

((so that's the knight's name. Ah. I didn;t want to award him until we knew his name. Now I will.))

[Flabbicus]

Olbrecht sways heavily on his horse, weary from the long battle. Above the winged inevitable continues zapping errant dwarves. After the airship attempts to drop the H-bomb it flies up to the cockpit screen, turning invisible as it approaches and swerving around any incoming debris or projectiles. It attempts to blast the ship's exposed metal areas with a mixture of electricity, negative energy, and pure unadulterated law.

[McBish]

Finn bows slightly as he gets the medal and title. But still he seems pretty serious.

[Renrik]

An officer of the Federation finds the knight, and brings him the rewards presented to him at the Castle

Olbrecht, is it? Here. the Council was very impressed by your actions. They wish you to have these.

I just have one question, though: why did you help us?

[McBish]

Finn smiles and shakes any hands but stays quiet for the most part. He ain't one for speechafiying.

((I just had the image of Finn doing the Jayne speech.))

[Renrik]

(that's a disturbing image...)

[Flabbicus]

The knight struggles off of his horse, weary from the long and difficult battle. He gazes at the inevitable setting to work with a fervent glance.

Yes, that is my name. I do not need any of your gifts, give it to a goblin soldier as a symbol of pride, I have all I need. I fought with you because I heard of the earlier tensions from a few scattered individuals in the town. I came to help then and now because I thought that I could truly make a difference and help stop the dwarves on their misguided warpath. Racism, or specism, disgusts me.

(( And yet he threatened Shade because he looked like one of the typical representations of evil in his Visigoth/Mongolian derivative society. Although I guess that is a different sort of hypocrisy. ))

[Renrik]

If you wish, Olbrecht, you could rest a while at the city. We have enough beds, and the food we stockpiled is more than enough.

[Flabbicus]

You have my sincerest gratitude, but I do not wish to impose. You have sustained heavy losses, and you should save your food for the time when the dwarves attack anew, which will surely happen again. I have enough food and supplies to last me as long as I desire, and I do not wish to divert any attention away from the true heroes of the battle.

His left hand glows blue and he brings it to his chest, instantly rejuvenating him and bringing the light back to his eyes.

[McBish]

Finn spends the rest of the night drinking if there is drink to be had. He drinks a lot. About the weight of a couple goblins.

[Renrik]

Nonetheless, we do thank you. If you should ever require the hospitality of the Federation, you may have it.


He bows to the knight and goes back to the city.
-----
((lots to be drunk? We just beat an army of dwarves! Chances are, we captured at least one of their supply trains, not to mention all the stuff the guerillas have been stealing from the dwarven settlements they've been rading!))

[McBish]

((Ok then.))

Finn drinks a lot. He doesn't talk any more than needed to get the ale. He seems lost in memories.

[Flabbicus]

The knight bows slightly and remains standing outside of the cities walls, looking at the goblins attempt to reclaim and rebuild the destroyed outlying settlements.

[Renrik]

Some of the guerilla forces, as well as the majority of Knacklaw's forces, depart, going back to the contested regions of the Federation to secure it from any additional attacks by foreign forces.

[Rainspattered]

"K'shakh smiles, "Martyrdom is the business of the young, like idealism. Always when I think the centuries have grown me past both, I fild myself walking within them again," he laughs, before saying more seriously "My thanks for the honours. We will always stand beside the goblins in their time of need. Now that you are a nation once again, let it be a prosperous one."

"Since I have the formal position of authority, which within the deathkeep puts me someplace between "figurehead" and "most popular celebrity," he cackles, "I'd like to officially offer a trade alliance with the GSA. Due to our castle's 'portable' nature, we're able to cross most barricades and avoid many blockades or hostile boundaries."

"I didn't expect to live, let alone be honoured," Nithrik says sheepishly, "I just didn't want to disappoint my family's proud history among our people in our time of need. My father told me that the dagger was named for our people's shattered kingdom when we were broken, and it would shatter the crowns of our oppressors, as well, so that we could stand again. I hope his bedtime stories were true, and we may have a kingdom of lasting peace where this dagger never lives up to its name again." Nithrik takes a necklace he wears and wraps it around the palm of Grothak's metal arm, the only portion of him to survive the blast.

---------At the party-------------
"We are fortunate in many ways this day," Aercath proclaims dramatically. "One of the dwarven generals seemed to have had a fancy for cigars," he explains, blowing a smoke ring without any lungs. "And the capital to afford the finest of them this land makes."
"There is something to be said for your willpower, that even death did not keep you from your tobacco," K'shakh compliments jokingly, sipping a liquorice-flavoured drink with serpentine tongues, trying to be as discreet about his drinking methods as possible so as not to unnerve any of those around him.
"Is that healthy for the snakes?"
"As healthy as being shot at by a dwarven army all at once," K'shakh laughs back.

--------In General-------
The Undead Dwarves work on rebuilding any damage to the Goblin City, burying any fallen bodies, and whatever manual labour needs doing in Datharral, so that the people and defenders may rest after the battle.

[Renrik]

The trade agreement is accepted in full, unanimously passed by the Council.
----
Redfang puts his hand on Nithrik's shoulder
You did your family proud. I don't think that you'll ever need to use tthat dagger again.
----
At the Party:

The festhall, mostly undamaged by the bombardments, is a great and stone building near the barracks. The inside is lit with candles and music, and is the heart of the celebrations throughout the city, open to both soldier and civilian. Six great, long tables take up most of the room, with the taproom at one end and the stage at the other.

The soldiers are amazed at Finn's ability to drink, and give him great respect as they pass, for his deeds on the battlefeild as much as for his strength in the ale house.

Nalthar sits with some other GLP members, talking about recent events at the Town. Kharrouk sits with Knacklaw and other officers, talking about strategy. Maghar and Kueresh sit across eachother at a table, surrounded by the best of their tribe, attempting to best eachother at all manner of contest (most recently arm-wrestling).

A band of civilians and soldiers mixed plays at the head of the hall, brnging up lively music on flute and strings accompanied by the beat of the drum.

[McBish]

Finn wakes up the next morning or so and finds a envolpe by his bed. He opens it up and reads it. With a loud yawn and a big streach he gets up and gets his weapons. Then he makes his way out of the city.

[Renrik]

Redfang, knowing Finn's mission, salutes him

Good luck. Bring that monster to justice.

[McBish]

I plan on it. Finn turns and salutes back. He then gives him an evil grin. It isn't threating, but it is the kind of grin that only someone that wouldn't think twice about chopping a person in half the long way can give. With that he turns and leaves the city.

[Renrik]

Redfang looks at him go, and can;t help but grin himself. He turns to Nalthar:

I don't envy him.
Who, Finn?
No, the one Finn's after.

The two goblins chuckle, knowing well the warrior's skill in battle.

No, I don't envy him either.