EotA Tales - Ambush

Discuss the lore of the EotA world.

EotA Tales - Ambush

Postby Hammel » August 18th, 2006, 8:05 am

The best story on EotA I wrote so far... even though it may suck: I mailed it to Ion and he didn't give me any feedback, so blame him ;)

On their flight from Stormwail Peak, the Elves travelled brutal distances to reach the sea before their followers, the United Creeps. Furbolgs or Trolls are better for travelling quickly since their tough and sinewy bodies can (usually) endure exertions way better. One case was reported when an greatly overweight Furbolg broke down at the end of the first day due to a heart attack, but that may as well be a fairy story to keep the morale up after the day. Eventually minor battles took place taking care of the scouts of the Creep’s army. Requiem, an outlaw among his own race, used these battles to restore his power with the souls of the slain creeps. He could also use the souls of his comrades in battle but his respect was way too high to do so, apart from his vow to never use Elven souls.

Before one of those battles Requiem and some Sergeants lay in cover, waiting for a small Creep group. They had been told 20 furbolgs, about the same amount of trolls and a few satyrs would come through this valley later the day. So they searched and found a place for an ambush.

Decades before, during the first war with the Undead, a genetical trait was found, allowing special Elven families to take the soul of the Undead away to use it for more destruction among their kind. The official name for these kind of mages was “Soul Binders”. After long battles victory seemed only a matter of time when it was revealed the Soul Binders could use the Soul of any living or formerly living being to fuel their spells. The uproar among the Elven families was like no others before. The Elves who were not fighting at the front of the war summoned the government to ban the Soul Binders from the country. While not banning their only weapon against the Undead from their homelands, the Soul Binders turned from heroes to criminals and desecrators of dead bodies, of dead Elven bodies. Being expelled by their own people, the Soul Binders refused to fight. Noone wanted to listen to them swearing that they never knowingly used the soul of one of their relatives and friends. From then on the tide of war turned against the Elves. They could not kill the Undead since they’d simply continue fighting unless severely damaged. Dealing so much damage in battles against endless odds is absolutely impossible, making the Elves lose one battle after the other. A small hope was brought when a young Elve, Xeldarith, learned to channel enough energy to seriously hurt the undead and tear their physical bodies apart with holy power. Unfortunately for his kind that was no genetical trait and he stayed the only gifted one. This was not enough for sure, especially since handling that much power quickly dries your psychical reserves and Xeldarith couldn’t kill every undead in every single battle alone. Luckily the Undead only secured their former borders at first, not proceeding too much into Elven territory. The Soul Binders, although mistrusted outlaws, were granted the right to live near Undead border to fight back the Undead attacks. In any other region of the kingdom, they were effectively rightless. The only other, unacceptable option was exile. Slowly things went back to normal, like it had been before the first war, at least for the rest of the Elves.

In those days, a young baby was born among the Soul Binders. He was called Requiem.

“Captain, there they are” someone shouted.
Requiem suddenly awoke from his thoughts. “What?”
“The Creeps have arrived, just as we were told they would. Just a little bit more tired than we thought” one of the Sergeants replied. What a shame, Requiem didn’t even know his name. Noone cared to tell him who he fought with, as long as he used his powers against the enemy and restored them when the battle was over. Of course not with Elven souls.
“Ok, everyone get to his group, let’s make things go smoothly. Attack on my command” he whispered to his others. Everyone affirmed and moved out.
“Something was wrong”, Requiem thought. He couldn’t tell why or what, but things went too smoothly in his opinion. As if everything was planned… and for sure he hadn’t planned the exact arrival of the Creeps.

There middle of the valley was full of grass with a few places with close trees, perfect for archers. The edges of the valley were covered by loads of trees and bushes. Since the other valleys around were much more difficult to path, the only way left was through the one where Requiem and his comrades were waiting. They hid in 4 of with small groups of archers and a few spearmen to defend them. Requiem’s 8 swordsmen had the job to take out the Troll trappers. Requiem would focus on the Satyrs.

The Furbolgs were a few meters away from the point the Elves would attack. Requiem grabbed his sword a little bit harder. The cold metal gave him a feeling of power, it should purge his fear from the battle, but instead the bad feeling about the upcoming action grew. “Anyways, that is just Furbolgs”, he thought and stood up, charging at the Furbolgs, the swordsmen running right behind him, ducked behind their shields. From the other side of the valley, the archers fired volley after volley with unmatched precision and speed at the enemy troops. Most of the Furbolgs which were hit died right at that moment, struck by multiple arrows in vital parts.

From a bit far away, Gal’Shin, an ancient troll shaman, watched the events. “Take them out”, he cried to his comrades, about 300 Furbolgs and many other beings, including bears and even a frost drake.

As the first Satyr readied a spell, Requiem reached out and tore his soul apart. The inner pain was so hard the Furbolg couldn’t even scream to release his pain. Then the other one reacted, casting a bolt of dark magic at Requiem. Requiem, too lazy to counter it, put his shield up and deflected it. Then he reached the Satyr and ended his life with a quick slice over his throat. With another strike, he hit the heart of the poor being, steeling the soul out of the dieing body. Looking around he saw that the enemy was dead. Then he turned around.

Failed plans

Quickly looking around Requiem tried to find a spot to get out of the trap they moved right in. The way to one end of the valley seemed a bit less-defended than the others. “We are under attack!”, he shouted to his men. Only one was a bit wounded, the rest was alright. “Form a V and head to the place where we entered the valley. Archers and wounded to the inside, two men cover the back, GET GOING” Like one man his squad reacted. The training and experience from the battles at Stormwail worked perfectly fine. Quickly they started moving, and although they were nearly running, the formation didn’t break up. After half a minute, there was the first contact with the surrounding Creep force. Quickly slashing and hacking, Requiem at the front position made his way through the enemies, the soldiers at his sides taking the ones he had left. Without looking Requiem took their souls. Then he noticed his mistake.

He had led them right into the second trap, although it didn’t hit yet. In the direction they were heading there wasn’t the least enemies, there were the most. And Requiem guessed most of the ones at the other sides of the valley were illusions. “Men, don’t stand still, here are some more than we thought. We may not all make it, but still fight on and take revenge” In fact, Requiem thought, they might all die, but he didn’t tell anyone. “Captain, it was a great time fighting with you. May the gods watch over your soul… or your souls since you have more than one” someone called from behind, making Requiem smile. “Thanks a lot, I won’t forget it… same to you” Requiem shouted. Then a plan started to grow within him. Before the trap really struck, Requiem scanned the oncoming waves. Then he noticed that troll which seemed to be the commander. He was dancing around like crazy and still seemed very aged compared to the ones around him. With the words “Move on, I will take their focus onto me, someone take my position” he left the formation, heading right towards the enemy commander.

“What is he doing?” Gal’Shin screamed “Someone stop him, he is the most important one, you, go and kill him” he ordered one of his guards. With fury in his eyes that one went off, knowing he is blessed that it was him who was ordered to.

Seeing a guard coming up to him, Requiem knew he had spotted the real general. Behind him he hears his soldiers quickly shout orders, making their way out of the valley. Then the guard reached him. Not noticing his cover, the Furbolg started attacking with wide, powerful swings of his claws. Requiem blocked the first one with his shield, experiencing it was a bad idea. Although he himself was very strong for a High Elf, the Furbolg had some strange enchantments upon him, making him much stronger. Good it didn’t make him more intelligent since he ran right into the first trick of Requiem, ending up as a soulless body on a sword.

Seeing his champion die, Gal’Shin ordered his complete army to attack the main threat, a single High Elf. While his messengers wondered what could be so important about that Elf, they fulfilled their job, quickly making the whole army attack the new target.

Seeing the enemy forces change their target, Requiem knew he was successful. “Now let the fun begin… for the kingdom” he whispered, followed by some secret incantations. Seconds later he was invisible, running right behind an illusion of himself. The illusion kept running towards the ancient shaman while he headed into a small forest. Hoping noone will cast detecting magic, he strengthened the illusion with more souls, making it resistant to such magic, and hid in the forest. Although invisible, he still hid in some bushes to give enemy augury no chance to see him.

While the High Elf seemed to charge on, Gal’Shin feared his troops could reach him too late. Every Furbolg which got near died after a very short battle, and there were never enough around to really surround him. So Gal’Shin thought of an malicious curse, severely damaging the veins of the poor target, making it die from inner bleedings. In the end the skin would burst. After a short incantation, followed by a mantra, Gal’Shin let lose the curse. Something went wrong. He was flying around through some unreal world, no real points to focus at which caused a strong headache. Then stuff turned normal again, but everything seemed to be out of glass. He could look through the trees and mountains and through the floor. When he noticed he was on the ethereal plane, he calmed down, just until the Soul Binder appeared right next to him. The eyes nearly fell out of Gal’Shins head. Then he felt the pain.

Before Requiem had torn the whole soul apart, the pain caused the shaman to have a heart attack, killing him that way. Sweating from the stress to keep the illusion up for such a long time, Requiem hit the heart of the troll, using the rest of his soul to regenerate his own powers.
After their leader mysteriously disappeared, the small Creep army was confused. Then someone saw the fleeing High Elves, just the right target for their accumulated aggressions and adrenaline.

After a short rest, Requiem made his way out of the small copse. He saw his former comrades had made it to the border of the valley, but the creeps were right after them. It was time to act and make a final step to show the creeps who the boss is. Using the just regained energies, he reached out to Angeline, calling her for help. She was the only one who might make it. Gifted with the magic of the winds, she could travel long distances faster than anyone else. Actually she was so fast one wouldn’t call it travelling anymore. Angeline replied she was too exhausted for coming, but she would try to make someone else come. “Damn” Requiem thought and started running. Although already tired himself, he used a portion of his soul reservoir to strengthen his muscles, allowing him to run faster and longer. He headed for the path the other Elves had taken hoping to find corpses to restore his powers with, then he ran to the exit of the valley. Although his shield was problematic, he didn’t leave it behind since he would need it in the upcoming, hopefully last battle of the day. Absolutely out of breath, Requiem reached the crest of the hill his allies had escaped over.

Lost hope

The fleeing Elves were tired just as their leader, and some of them had already died. When the Creep forces reached them, they turned around for one last, great fight. On the crest they saw their captain, hurrying to aid them.

Seeing his allies in trouble, Requiem started running again, nearly depleting his soul reservoir. He shouldn’t have wasted them on Angeline. Those Elven casters were weaklings, blessed with powerful magic but too tired to use them for what was really needed. He should have known it before. Pushing away these thoughts, he reached the lines of the creep casters. They hadn’t expected him and were mowed down within moments. Their screams made some Furbolgs turn. In their blind fury they thought of Requiem as weak prey and surrounded him quickly. Already wasting the regained powers again (he would have to stop spending his souls so quickly), Requiem restored his endurance. Then he waited for the furbolgs. One after the other, they came closer, making the circle smalled every second. Turning around and having a look at his enemies, more and more of them came closer, building a second and a third circle. Requiem prayed for luck and started taunting them with the few bits of Furbolg he spoke. “Your mother is a brown bear” made the Furbolgs boil and attack. Turning like a dervish Requiem only let his shield and sword fly in circles, cutting and hitting anything within 4 feet from him. Through his sword he felt his powers return. When he had accumulated enough, he literally fired the souls, incinerating the earth beneath his boots. The flames pushed the Furbolgs back a bit but only gave him a small break, long enough to find out he didn’t have any power left. Requiem was absolutely exhausted, no doctor had wondered when he had dropped to the floor and died. He also didn’t care about anything anymore, he could only think of his tired flesh and his wish to sleep. “Wait”, he thought, “you cannot sleep. When you sleep you die” But then again it didn’t matter to him. He couldn’t even remember why he had thought it, he was just too tired. Then he sat down.

The furbolgs wondered why the Elf sat down. Expecting another trick, they slowly climbed over their dead friends’ corpses to end this. Seeing nothing happen, their bloodlust returned and they didn’t see the stars falling down on them.
“Drink this, my friend” someone said to Requiem. Too weak to refuse, Requiem drunk the potion which instantly made him feel better. Looking up at his helper, he saw Joram Sunrunner, his only real friend among his race. Joram was an outlike like himself, though for other reason. A terrible disease had deformed Joram’s body, making him look a bit orc-like. Still Joram was a nice and funny guy, always smiling and inventing jokes for people he dislikes.
“Are you better? There is someone who wants to talk to you, Requiem. It is urgent” Joram told him.
“Give me a minute, ok?” Requiem replied, still tired.
“I don’t think you have so much time” Joram meant with a sad voice.
“Ok ok, I am coming”
“Over there” Joram showed him the way to another lying Elf. “We were too late to help him”

Requiem moved over to the dying man.
“Captain, is it you?” his unnamed Sergeant asked Requiem, raising his head a bit.
“Yes, it is me. What is your name, soldier?”
“Aleras, from the house of Enoreth. It was an honour to fight with you, captain. I bet there isn’t another captain risking so much for his men. May the Gods watch over you.”, the Sergeant coughed, with blood coming out of his throat. His head fell back to the floor, eyes dead.
“Over you, too” Requiem replied sadly. No, as he knew the name of one of his comrades, that one died right at that moment. What a sad world.

“And once again your whole squad died” a female voice taunted Requiem from behind.
“Shut up, Felisa” Requiem told the leader of the Arcane Archers.
“Don’t talk to me that way, or I won’t save your cheap ass next time”
“Sometimes I don’t care dying, when it is for a good thing. I guess you have different principles, don’t you? Between, what happened to your sister? Ohh, yeah, she died to a Satyr necromancer in the second Undead war, right? On a patrol somehow only you and her were on.”
“Shut up, Requiem. I have nothing to do with her death. He surprised us and I was lucky to get out. Everyone can state that. And when I returned to hunt down and kill him, he had already reanimated her.”
“Sure. That’s why she is so fond of killing you, her beloved sister” With these words he went off, leaving the battlefield behind.

I have to admit, some parts are full of clishees, and stiff language Oo

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Postby mianmian » August 18th, 2006, 2:20 pm

Pretty decent, grammar aside. :P

But ya, tons of cliché.

but his respect was way too high to do so

I always pictured Requiem as Evil, and he dosent really care wich souls he uses, isnt he sorta like a addict?

“Your mother is a brown bear”

Best part :p
Laugh so much :p
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Postby Hammel » August 19th, 2006, 3:21 am

I don't picture Requiem as evil, he is more like... depressed that his people are hated so much and I tried to show that in the story.

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Re: EotA Tales - Ambush

Postby jamn455 » December 26th, 2008, 12:58 am

The Artifact imploded, thus causing a black hole which destroyed the entire universe. End of the game.
Line 'em up.
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