Battle of the ages

((There we're multiple different groups in this massive server event, so everyone can go ahead and post their side of the story. I'll be posting what Cruven was involved in.))


The night was dark and rainy, tension was high as the majority of the Hound's elite's sat around the Shadowdale fire. They all knew what was going down, and even these most hardened of warriors had a nervous tingle throughout their bodies. Suddenly a large flash appeared to the north, the assault had begun. The hounds stood up, making their way to the front of the Old Skull Inn during the commotion. It became quite clear that the Dark Doom and High Commander had no interest in the four mercs as they got closer to the barracks. As the Hound's took their positions the Zhents began gathering their humanoid mercenaries. Now well behind the Zhent forces the Hound's waited, patiently waiting for the moment to strike. Moments later the rebel forces breached the city perimeter, at the same moment Cruven charged the ogre stationed by the barracks as Zathala shot the skymage full of arrows. With the aid of Sabi, Cruven dragged the ogre's body to the barrack's door, using the massive body to barricade the door. With the door blocked, Cruven pulled out a large pouch filled with many vials of alchemist's fire and chucked it into one of the windows. Just as the pouch smashed against the inside of the building along with a spell from Sabi the barracks exploded, the building collapsing and burning to the ground. As the main rebel force began their extended battle with the High Officers of the Zhentarim the Hound's made their way to the Temple of Bane, planning on capturing any who would surrender. Cruven, Sabi, and Jarrin made their way to the temple and banged on the door, the instant they did, a massive explosion went off sending Cruven rolling down the front steps, the temple was destroyed.

Shortly after, the battle between the Zhentarim's High Officers and the main rebel force came to an end, the Zhentarim had fallen, the rebellion had won. As everyone regrouped in the center of town, it was clear that the town was in ruins. Buildings burned, bodies and blood covered the ground. After a brief discussion, Cruven began the task of assembling a militia, going house to house knocking on doors. Once the word was out to everyone in Shadowdale, Cruven headed back to the Hound's Keep and gathered a handful of mercs, bringing them back to Shadowdale to aid the militia for a few days.

The dwarves under the command of Elder Grendal charged out of the newly created hole in the Northern farms. With the aid of the Lyon Druid they quickly overwhelmed the resistance there. When the Zhents formed ranks and met the 200 strong Ironhouse dwarves the battle begain in earnest. The Lyon dragon rained death from above while the dwarves held fast. Commanders Thoerin and Dithers leading their troops with courage. Valtore Ironhouse called upon the aid of Torm against his foes (a one time reward form past events) and the Zhent Commander was struck down by divine power and turned to ash. Torm's blessing raised the spirits of the liberators and quickly turned the battle. Those who didn't die then and there fled north into the army lead by Captain Karovir quick quickly ended their flight.

The dwarves then turned South meeting little resistance on their March to central. Once there the final battle was joined in full. Scyallas was seen to fall to Julia the Harvestmistress while her Nightmare fell to the divinely blessed sword of Valtore of the Ironhouse. Soon the battle was over and the town was littered with dead oppressors. The liberation was complete.

((Great Post ... Have a Lot to say, but for a start))

Julia charged to Central Shadowdale with the main force of the Rebels, soon she saw the Legendary Zhentarim Blackguard Scyllua Darkhope mounted in her Nightmare Targaraene,

She looks to one side and her friends were fighting many Zhent Elites, to the other side some facing a huge Iron Golem, others surrounded by enemies... She had to do it, was her duty, she attacked the terrible enemy,

after a deadly Epic battle, the Harvestmistress still stands, with the help of other friends that came to aid her, and the Commander of the Zhentarim troops Scyllua Darkhope was dead.

Myth Drannor Refugee Camp filled with people, they are friendly with each other making Mark nervous, he just doesn't like seen people sharing anymore, it is just annoying.
Apparently they are attacking Shadowdale, unexpected, still... Should he aid them? After moments of brief doubt he prepares to a hard battle following the man that vouched for him a couple of days ago, he deserves a bit of gratitude, but that's it, just this and they are even.

They charge through the East of Shadowdale, Mark was expecting a rain of arrows, drakes flying around throwing lightning bolts and people around him dying or trying to heal people that they care about only to find it is useless, he has to force the thoughts out of his head before they weak him.
Unexpectedly the battle goes on with very little casualties on the attack force, many innocents die but they deserved it, those who don't fight for their own freedom deserve nothing, not even the quick dead those got.
The battle is won and he hasn't felt a blade this time, he should be happy to be alive but... He isn't, he thought he would die and he is on the winning side, which means something went wrong, it should have been a lot harder. Why wasn't it harder? Does this mean the people who died at Beregost could have been saved easily? He is confused, a bitter victory for him.

Sedrins felt his belly twist. Yet another battle. Yet more civilian casualties. He closed his eyes as he did many times before, and the silent screams filled his head. He watched the gathering of troops from all kinds of factions rally to fight side by side. To free the dale. . .

He closed his fist around the hilt of Cleaver, and with a quick motion he drew the blade free of its scabbard. With resolute steps he walked up to join in with the group of mercenaries.


The dust from the battle had settled, and the screams of the dying and wounded were still. Sedrin looked over the scene with mixed feelings. So many of the casualties were civilians. He took a large swallow of whiskey, and sheathed his blade.

Once Kalthanar made his way onto the battlefield, he felt ... ALIVE. After warding via his stock of wands and potions, he cut a bloody swath through the Zhent army, grim laughter filling the night air among the chaos of battle as his blades mercilessly bit and carved flesh from Zhentarim bone and muscle. Limbs and heads rolling absent the body they were once attached to . He must have drawn her attention with his show of skill as Scyllua came from behind him , calling on her dark god to smite our favored fiendish warrior. Sweet Shining lady did that hurt! He had only just barely managed to curve back away from the blade enough to not end up dead. He was forced to pull back into the thick of it , losing her in the fray to quaff a heal potion. Now surrounded Kalthanar fought his way out of this encirclement , they tried to use their numbers tripping him and trying to stick him while he was down like a roasted boar but even still he was too skilled , making his way back to his feet , it was only a matter of time before more zhent bodies amassed around the bloodied tiefling, fresh gore and warm and blood coating his armor , most of it his enemies. His eyes like freshly stoked coals scanned the battlefield, looking to take a second crack at the woman , but he could not find her . Cursing to himself he rushed deeper into the battle venting his frustration on any enemy that crossed him , those among his warpath was a Fadian Darksun(Kal doesn't know his name ICly I'm just name dropping cause if someone knows more info about that NPC I'd like to know just for my own personal gratification >.> ) though Kalthanar never knew it , he fell like any other beneath a merciless flurry of steel.

When the battle had finally come to an end , he gave a grin , yet he didn't feel as fulfilled as he thought he would... There were people missing... people that he wanted to kill more than any he had in some time... Lilly... his former lover... Bainyrr ... her current lover... and Fidheliss , for insults long ago that he had never forgiven him for. He would not find peace until he had his chance at them.

Brigadier Sabel Chandler stood back, waiting. The Zhent commander, guard and Skymage guarding the barracks were in her sights. Her spell ready on her lips waiting for Curvens signal.

NOW

Sabi called forth the energies of the weave and only a single ball of fire shot from her hand, two of her targets fallen to arrows and sword before she could even finish the spell. Engulfed in flames, unable to see to his defense the Zhent commander was fodder for her companions. Throwing th ogre in front of the door she stood back another spell ready for the expected swarm of guardsman that would try to flee the fire, gripping her own pouch of alchemists fire vials when the building blew. Moving as fast as she could, she dove and flipped her self over the wall. Covering her head, debris falling around her, ears ringing she gave a bemused smile as the gate directly in front of the barracks swung closed, hardly a scratch on it.

- Later

Flying back down the stairs Sabi managed to roll to her feet as the Banite temple started to rain down around her. This time her wards protected her with out the wall to hide behind. The first thing to pass through her mind as she stood there. They knew, they expected us, the rebels have a spy in their midst. She turned to the Commander and voiced her concerns while mentally composing the letter that she would leave at the dead drop she shared with a trusted informant. She was sure when the derbies was cleared away few if any Zhent bodies would be found with either building.

The Lyon druid, who'd been with the main forces of the Ironhouse, had once they'd finally entered shadowdale, taken a potion she'd saved for the occation, which in turn enlarged her body. To this end, when she transformed into a massive silver dragon, sending a massive roar into the sky. Hoping it would boost the troops moral to have a dragon on their side.

Once the main battle for the Ironhouse started, Mylanis began her flight over them, raining her cold dragon breath down over the zhentarim troops, freezing them through their armor and cloth. Along with the Dragon was a massive air elemental, striking up small tornadoes for the zhentarim to enjoy themselves with.....

Once the battle at the bridge had been won, the Ironhouse and the dragon headed south towards the center of Shadowdale, only to meet a small gathering of troops heading their way, and specially for them, Mylanis had a surprise, she shifted back into her elven form, and then she called upon the most powerful blessing she'd been granted, and with a few words, unleashed it upon the zhentarim troops, almost instantly turning almost all of them into chickens. At this point, the small elf did chuckle softly, seeing the harmless chicken zhentarim run around confused. As that was over, Mylanis resumed her dragon form, and smashed through the rest of the forced before them, taking a minor injury, which was quickly healed. And she continued into central shadowdale along with the Ironhouse.

When they reached Central shadowdale, Mylanis began clawing her way through the zhentarim forces, even though at this point there weren't that many left. Scylla Darkhope had already fallen, along with most of the zhentarims elite forces.

Once the battle was over, The dragon was seen flying over the city, putting out fires with it's cold dragon breath. As the last fire finally died out, the dragon landed, and looking over its work, it stood proud.

Evan formed the rear guard so the force would not be ambushed.

A well earned strategy since from the flanks some zent guards, a banite cleric and a golem charged in. Evan charged the banite: "In Torms name begone!"

The battle was fierce but brief as Evans holy sword hit the banite hard and its holy power gave the banite a mortal wound, next his other hand uses Truestrike to decapitate his enemy its admantine blade cutting through all his foes wards.

Evan turns to help his comrades in arms aganst the guards the golem alredy taken care of by others.
"Yield!" Evan shouts at the Zent guards but they fight to their last.... the battle is over.

Evan soon starts looking for wounded and dead using the holy power granted by Torm to raise the dead and heal the wounded.

A while later Evan gets a request by a runner to join lady Julia Navarre in council at the inn.
Evan pours a few bottles of Torms holywater on himself to clean off most of the sweat and blood then makes haste towards the inn.

After a lengthy meeting Evan reluctantly accept the role as Lady Julias right hand muttering:
"A knight of Torm is no good politician nor a bureaucrat."  

I will help as best as my abilities allows me but I hope the villagers will elect their own council as soon as possible.

With that he takes a short nap in one of the rooms...

It started with a few hundred people who looked like farmers coming from the Shadowdale woods to the North Gate. A hooded man with a whitish beard in grey robes waved a walking stick shouting:

"We came to get our homes back!"

The crowd behind him waved their farming-tool-weapons and torches roaring. A lone Zhentarim guard appeared. The grey man in the front pointed his staff at the guard:

"There is one of those who took our homes! Give us our homes back!"

The Zhentarim guard shouted at the direction of the gate telling the others that more guards were needed. The crowd began to throw rotten fruits and stones at the guard and soon more and more Zhentarim soldiers marched out of the gate preparing to drive the crowd back. The grey man throws a spoon at the poor Zhentarim guard who then began to step closer to the revolting farmers. The other soldiers followed him grinning and determined to end this riot quickly. As they approached the farmer at the front pointed his staff at the Zhentarim and just shouted:

"Archers!"

Suddenly arrows hailed down on the Zhentarim coming from behind the crowd. With a smirk the grey farmer threw down his staff together with his robes showing that he was wearing a grey silvery armor beneath them and after he unsheathes his sword Morvian it was obvious that this farmer was Karovir. The crowd followed his example and they all threw away their rags, all of them wearing an armor and pulling out their weapons. The Chaunteans and three other rebels (Tohrm, Adela and Frinna) who hid in the woods joined them quickly. The fight started and soon the Zhentarim who underestimated the rioting farmers were defeated. The crowd rushed further to the gates where they were greeted with arrows and fireballs. A skymage stood on the top of the haunted house and a few Zhentarim guards blocked the way through the open gates. A storm of vengeance cast by Adela took care of the archers on the gates. Not minding the Zhentarim blocking the gates the tall Karovir just almost literally ran through the first one who ended up on the ground and managed to squeeze between two others followed by the refugees and rebels.
Quickly he prepared a hellball and blasted the skymage from the roof of the house while the others took care of the next group of Zhentarim, especially their archers. An earth quake cast by the rebel cleric Adela threw the archers on the ground. In the mean time Karovir has summoned a large monolith which stood there stomping on the Zhentarim like a child who stomps on ants. The trained refugees and Chaunteans fought any of Zhentarim soldier they could find until the north was cleared. A short break later they made their way to Shadowdale's central to meet the other troops.

There stood the rebellious legion, armed and ready for the assault and among them two of lathander’s church awaiting orders from the knight commander Vincent. A large explosion could be heard and the ground shook when the Knight Commander gave order “CHAAAAAAAAAARGE!!!!!” Shield in hand, sword in other they entered the city gates and began the attack. The Dawnbringer swung his sword with a trained arm, cutting and severing the foe in vital places. His goal victory not glory, his vision clean and determined.

Several waves of troops met the iron wall of sword and shield created by the legion of rebels, and each wave fell to the might that stood before them. Cries of war, agony, death were heard as many perished. Soon it was over and the last remaining zhents fled from the city, tail tucked between their legs. It had finally come to pass for the rebellion. They had driven the zhentarim from the city of shadowdale…the battle was won! But it then dawned on the priest of lathander, the war is far from over in fact for him it had just begun.

Orders were issued and carried out to see to the wounded and remove the dead. Once the bodies were stacked and carted off or burned the priests and knights worked together to sanctify the lands cursed and abused by the vile Banite occupation.

A new dawn, a new beginning for the people of shadowdale.

Perhaps informed, perhaps motivated by some sixth sense, perhaps simply just lucky... either way, the grey-hooded figure had left the fire and gone to collect his books from the inn not long after nightfall. By the time the battle started, he had long gone; padding off into the gloom and away from trouble.

But he would be back.