WAR ♞ MARCH ON CENTRAL WEST PLATEAU

[boardmaster]

MARCH ON CENTRAL WEST PLATEAU
20 AUGUST (GLADIA) 2016

The quiet, seemingly unremarkable town of Friedgood doesn't seem like a prime target for a Noir attack. Ask any outsider what a Friedgood local's favorite activity might be, and they’ll likely respond "I don't know, digging?" They're not wrong: Friedgood's primary industry comes from the excavation of precious stones and minerals in the nearby mountain ranges and volcanoes. Those who don't make their living from mining most likely still enjoy digging, as the town is a hot destination for archeologists from the school of Pigeonsblood looking to uncover the ancient secrets of Gammon.

More important than shiny rocks, however, is Friedgood's strategic location within the country, specifically the checkpoint known as Platform 42 and 5/8ths. It forms a stark contrast to the sleepy town it resides in. This bustling travel hub is known as the "Gateway to Gammon", and boasts fast transport to almost anywhere in the kingdom. Security is tight here, with grim-faced Gammon soldiers working around the clock to ensure that criminal activity doesn't stand a chance. Keep your contraband at home — an infraction will cost you heavy jail time. Friedgood is also the only town with a road providing access to Grantebrycge, Gammon's illustrious University town.

By conquering Friedgood, Noir hopes for universal access to all of Gammon.

On the 20th of Gladia, amidst strong winds and persistent thunderstorms, Heroes will arrive to the Central West Plateau. Even surrounded by tall mountain ranges and ominous volcanoes, its ancient wall is truly a daunting sight. A marvel even by modern construction standards, it was built over 300 years ago to defend against hostile nomadic tribes, and remains as strong and sturdy as the day it was built. It also provides an important environmental buffer to the people of Friedgood — the wall is resistant to lava.

Basic info on the war can be found here. All OOC questions about the event may be directed to the thread below.

ONE ♙ The War of Three Armies
It’s time to head to the battle, Hero. You may be walking, riding a mount - your own, or a borrowed spider or boar - or hitching a ride from someone else. It’s a miserable trek to the plateau, but at least you’re not alone. Once you arrive, Verdoni is there to greet you, accompanied by another Gammonian, the commander of this battle.

Pinta [ so god damned salty about not being a naval tactician and assigned to ships ] Ah, yes, the vaunted Heroes I’ve heard so much about. The name is Pinta, ah... naval tactician to Gammon’s armed forces. Ask why and I’ll show you a bloody hell. Anyway, welcome to the Central West Plateau! During ancient times, the volcanoes were said to be a wall of flame that protected Gammon. But if that stopped the Othellians, I suppose I wouldn’t be here, ahaha! Now, with them dormant, we must instead rely upon our steel and our wall. It’s strong enough to protect Gammon even if every volcano in the area were to erupt all at once! At least that’s what the locals say. They didn’t sound too dodgy, but... moving on! If you have any questions, our men will be glad to explain; show you how the cannons work, where the traps are and whatnot. Again, this really isn’t my expertise—oh! Our wizards have been creative as of late. We’ve these wind platforms that will fling those Noirs up, up, up! Into the air! Try not to get caught in them, yeah? Our navy will take care of our seas. They’re an outstanding lot, they are. All we need to do is focus! Gammon shall not sink here!

You’ll then be handed a magical bracelet. The miners use it protect them from toxic air, so this is a precaution; should you need it, it should last for the duration of the battle. Now all you have to do is wait and prepare for the battle. Acquaint yourself with the battleground: explore the Defense Wall and see what traps there are. It may give you some ideas of your own. There are also war cannons aligned on the top wall and within its interior. Otherwise, check your supplies or rest and collect yourself for what will come. Your mount may also want attention.


TWO ♙ Fellowship of the Bling
Initially cloaked by thick fumes of sulfur, ozone and the dreary overcast of the storm, the Noir battalion finally arrives. Their general, Spicy Spice, steps, nay, struts forward.

	Why is it that every time I come around, that Cochrane Bridge wants to go down? [ ADJUSTS HER WORLD CUP BRA ] They can’t keep that wall up forever.
Let’s make this a quick one, so we can get out of this smelly rain! [ gets ready to fire her gun in the air when she remembers something ] And don’t forget, target their puny pathetic healers, first. [ raises gun high above her head, signaling for the attack with a BANG! ]

On her cue, the Noir Vanguard rushes forward with a fearsome war cry, followed soon after by the Rearguard.

ENEMY ♟ Mounted Noir Soldier
Weak against None	Strong against Fire	Immune to None
These soldiers gallop onto the battlefield with their imposing GOLDHORN GOAT mounts. These are bigger and stronger than the average goat, and their golden horns tend to ABSORB SPELLS directed at their riders. Some spells in a soldier’s arsenal: GRISTRELKI sets fire to the rain — literally. It converts the rain in the sky into a barrage of fireballs. Pray your umbrella’s fireproof! With the PLAMEVODA spell, they can turn hot water (i.e. those from geysers) into bubbling hot lava. When combined with a strong cooling spell, the spell can trap you in rock… That is, if the lava doesn’t kill you first! DVIZHE SMERTI is a dangerous spell that paralyzes its target, rendering them unable to even speak or blink. This can be cured with mana exchange. Hurry before Noir strikes with a rain of fire!Of course, the soldiers are capable of HEALING SPELLS to assist their injured allies and mounts. The VANGUARD is lead by an impressive wall of massive shield units, armed with various melee weapons: swords, maces, and daunting battle axes. Herd them into the traps around the battlefield to render them immobile! The REARGUARD, armed with bows and arrows, will try to overwhelm the HEROIC VANGUARD. HEROIC DEFENSE back them up with long-ranged attacks and the cannons! If they get close enough to the wall, the Rearguard will relentlessly attack the Defense! Both units are under strict orders to prioritize an attack on the HEROIC SUPPORT. If they see any Hero or Gammonian soldiers helping each other or performing rescues on the battlefield, they will give chase IMMEDIATELY. DROPS: Shield with Noir Emblem, Flame Staff, Assorted Non-Magical Weapons, Golden Goat Horns, Lava Lamp

In the heat of battle, you will feel the ground beneath you shake and tremble. In a turn of events neither side could have predicted, a dormant volcano in the distance erupts, raining down fire and scorched earth on the area. More alarming, however, is how the resulting earthquake sets off powerful, white-hot geysers on the battlefield. Stay alert! To make matters worse, the approaching lava makes Noir’s fire spells even more deadly, and Noir shows no signs of letting up on their assault.

Spicy Spice You think a little bad weather is going to stop us? Don't make me laugh. [ laughs anyway, then falls into a coughing fit ] Urghh, damn these fumes — Oh whatever, Send in the riders!

THREE ♙ The Desolation of Noir
Undeterred by the eruptions, the geysers, or the bad weather, they’ve called in their aerial units, fierce griffon riders who’re trying to fly over the wall and into Friedgood. Don’t let them pass! Make use of your resources and shoot them down: Heroes with long ranged weapons or magic will find their skills useful here. Learned how to fire a cannon? Now’s your chance! If not, protect your allies, Hero and Gammonian, as they line up their shots.

ENEMY ♟ Noir Griffon Rider
Weak against None	Strong against Fire, Lightning	Immune to Wind
For the first time, Heroes will witness firsthand how Noir’s legendary griffon riders—often called masters of the skies—live up to their name. A griffon’s powerful wings not only lets them soar at great heights; they can whip up terrifying BEAMS OF LIGHTNING. Griffon riders are armed with JAVELINS which they can also throw and cast the same spells as their counterparts on land. However, they share a closer bond with their griffon mounts. Upon losing their master, the griffons will go BERSERK and proceed to kill everything in sight. If a Hero gets caught in a griffon’s talons, the creature will drop them into their boiling demise at either a GEYSER or VOLCANO. DROPS: Mount Treats, Riding Gloves, Noir Lance, Harness, Griffon Feathers, Griffon Talon

The lava is fast approaching and Noir can no longer take the heat. The griffon riders are maintaining their assault, but the rest of their army is falling back to escape. Time for you to retreat too before Gammonian soldiers seal the wall and you’re trapped on the plateau side. Fried Heroes ain’t Fried Good.

• Defense, continue shooting at any enemy target in range! Be attentive and aid your allies as they retreat back to the wall. Do not fear, you have the advantage.
• Vanguard, fall back! Watch the skies for any griffon riders on the way to the wall. Once you arrive, take down enemies who try to breach. Letting even one enemy pass could spell disaster.
• Support, grab the wounded and check the wall’s condition! Any damages should be repaired immediately to prevent the lava from entering Friedgood.

FOUR ♙ There and Back Again
The wall closes, sealing the lava and ending the battle. Hopefully no one got left behind.

Spicy Spice Now I'm wishing that I didn't wear these shoes (I hate heels). Better get up out my face! [ trips on her way out ] Oh shit!

Catch your breath, Hero. You won. First, check up on everyone and heal your wounds. If you borrowed a mount you might want to take the time to say farewell, since the trip back to Friedgood means you’ll be parting soon.

The people of Friedgood are grateful. They know what would have happened if you lost. There’s no time for fancy parties. They’re pulling out whatever they can find for a makeshift street party right then and there.

You can find bowls of Splotched Richard - a dessert pudding - and Bangers and Mash. If you’re in the mood for something strong you can get pints of Guileless or Pale Noir, maybe a Lasker Train Bomb if you can find someone who’s willing to mix it. Or perhaps you fancy a CreamAle, the favored drink of Grantebrycge.

You’re welcome to stay out and party as long as you like - the party is for you, after all! In fact, the people will respect you more if you get drunk and pass out on the side of the street. But for Heroes who’re tired from the war, you’re always welcome to stagger into the Bollox Inn for a room, free of charge.

Comments

[chronosynthesis]

We share am empathy among each other. [He puts a hand to his chest, where his heart would be (if he had one).] We begin our lives together in the Dream, and when we wake in the world we continue to share that bond with our feelings.

... We are less shy about displaying them.

[rememberher]

An empathy?

[ Tilting her head to the side, she considered his words, taking them in. The Dream, bonds? It all seemed a bit strange, and more like a fairy tale than reality. ]

So in a way, you're all connected? Your people?

[chronosynthesis]

We are. Though it is limited by distance.

[He turns back to the battle.] Ah--we shouldn't idle too long. Thank you for helping me.

[rememberher]

Of course—oh, and here.

[ Reaching over to fish through her bag, she pulls out a small, glowing blue vial, offering it to the Sylvari. ]

A mana potion. I can't watch your back all the time, after all. Don't get hurt out there, all right?

1/2

[chronosynthesis]

Ah--thank you! [He slips it into his pocket quickly with a wider grin.] I make no promises, but I will do my best to see you on the other side of this.

[He bows his head.] Good luck, Lux. [And with a wave he twists on his heels and goes charging back into the fray, sword lifted high.]

2/2

[chronosynthesis]

[Well, he does do his best.

His arms are bandaged over and under his sleeves and there's blood splattered on his uniform-- a change of clothes should be his first purchase in the morning, he only hopes Blanc currency will be acceptable...

He doesn't celebrate for long, so much as assure that other soldiers are all right. Those that can make it out into the streets and the inn drinking.

They won't let him help with the injured, but they permit him to stay so long as he doesn't get in their way. So he finds his way around to Lux's bed, peering with a small smile and a soft voice.] Hello.

[rememberher]

[ Taking a few struggled breaths as her body decides that waking would be the worst pain of them all, it took her a moment to realize that the Sylvari commander was at her bedside. Forcing a breath in (Gods, why did everything have to hurt so much), she turned her head when she heard a familiar voice.

She looked exhausted. Dying did that to a person, apparently. ]

...Syrlya?

[ And for as tired as she looked, she sounded even worse, groggy and a little hoarse. But she still offered him a smile, small though it may be. ]

Hello.

[chronosynthesis]

[His smile grows a little strong as he makes his way around her bedside and leans against the table beside it.] I'm glad to see you. How are you faring? ... Aside, I presume, being tired.

[rememberher]

[ There was something strangely reassuring about that smile, and the thought that someone would be there when she woke up. But oh, she felt so tired, it was nearly intoxicating.

How was she? ...Don't ask, that wasn't important. Besides, her spell-addled brain likely couldn't form an answer. She hardly seemed aware that she was in a medical tent, being tended to. ]

Where... am I?

[chronosynthesis]

You are in the medical ward, I presume due to your injures. [He tilts his head.] The volcano actually erupted and the resulting ash and lava forced Noir to retreat, so we won the battle! I don't believe we could have asked for a better stroke of luck.

[rememberher]

[ There was... a lot to unpack there. The medical ward. Because...

She tried to get up, to prop herself into a sitting position, but she was far too hasty, wincing deeply from the pain of exertion. ]

Where is Allen? He... is he...

[ The man she saved on the field. There was a paralysis spell. He was paralyzed. She had to... she had to get him out, then she...

...

(Why couldn't she quite remember what happened after that?)

Groaning from the pain of moving, she still continued. Body, don't betray her. The battle may be done, but there was still... ]

I need to...

[chronosynthesis]

Ah--shh. [Syrlya moves forward quickly, his hands hovering above her shoulders to still her.] Allen is fine. I saw him inside the city before they shut the gates.

I can find him for you if you would like, but you should not move just yet. [The pain when she does is far too obvious.]

[rememberher]

[ They're unsteady, the dull colors that course around her, fluttering and fleeting, like there was no real control there. Like a candle's flame plagued by a sudden gust of air. And while they ease slightly with his calming words, she continues to struggle.

That was only one piece. She had to keep moving, she had to help, she had to... ]

But... I need to...

[ There were things that needed to be attended to. Cleaning up, finding and bringing back the injured... and the dead. ]

[chronosynthesis]

You need to rest. [His tone is stern and a touch commanding as he rests his hands properly on her shoulders. It's all too easy right now to talk to her as one of his ornery soldiers, even when he has not been a proper figure for so long.

They were all the same, those that wanted to help.] You have done good work, and you deserve at least that much. Let me help you instead.

[rememberher]

[ ...There was something strangely familiar in his tone, and she stopped suddenly.

An order.

Frozen in place, half-sitting and gently curled in on herself, she looked up at him through her lashes, the color drained from her face. He was a Pawn, but he...

He clearly outranked her. She had to obey.

Crestfallen, her gaze lowered and her posture slackened slightly. It was funny, really. She never expected this, someone like him, that he might be...

She couldn't even fight back. Dammit... ]

...

[chronosynthesis]

[He blinks rapidly. That wasn't the response he expected. Nobody liked to be told no, but the way she seems to shrivel under his tone...]

Ah--[He pulls his hands back. He stands stunned for a moment before he crouches down beside her, looking up with his hands clasped together in front of him.] Will you let me help you as a friend?

[It's a strong word, but they have fought together now. He can offer this much.]

[rememberher]

[ Help her... as a friend? She looked so very confused at that, and at the quick change in tone, in mannerisms. He outranked her, so why...

She didn't understand. ]

Why..? Why would you... want to do something like that?

[ Her commanding officers were not "friends." They were leaders. And she followed their orders without question, without doubt, because they were right, because they were what needed to be done. There was no room to question, no margin for error. They were infallible. Her orders, and the people that gave them. ]

...I don't understand...

[chronosynthesis]

Why wouldn't I? You helped me. You're a very nice person. I would be honored to do something for you.

[rememberher]

But you...

[ You're over-simplifying things. Making light of something that was so important (to her), something that she still held fast to, no matter how unhealthy, no matter how toxic, no matter how utterly wrong she had begun to realize it was.

But it was all she had. To fight. To follow orders. The greatest honor, to defend crown and country.

With her life, if they ordered it. ]

...I can't do that.

[chronosynthesis]

... Oh. [Perhaps he was too presumptuous, then. He glances aside a moment before rising back to his feet.]

Is there anyone else I can find for you? I'm sure Allen will come if only asked.

[rememberher]

[ She paused, looking up slowly. Did he not...

The look on his face spoke volumes, even to her spell-addled brain. She made a misstep. But where? Where did it happen? What did she do wrong?

And, more importantly, how could she fix it? She was never good at expressing herself when it came to these things, at explaining herself—either she knew the exact right thing to say, or the exact wrong one. At being willing to talk about why she did what she did, felt how she felt. And it seemed that she managed to strike out so thoroughly here.

He said something earlier. Why couldn't she remember it? Something on the battlefield. About empathy, about connectedness. "This" wasn't so bad.

She slowly settled (he told asked her to, after all), before slowly, shyly reaching out her hand to him. On the battlefield, it was fine, but here... ]

Don't. It's okay.

[ Take it or don't, Syrlya, the choice was yours. ]

Can you... keep me company for a while? Please?

[ Maybe if she kept him there, she could solve this for herself. She could figure out where she went wrong. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya's brow furrows in confusion, but he moves a step closer and takes her outstretched hand with a soft smile.] Very well.

[There's nothing at first when they touch, but after a moment his mana moves from his fingers to hers.

His grip tightens briefly as he lets out a sheepish laugh.] Oh, I suppose that always happens.

[rememberher]

[ They were dull but not lifeless, the colors (and an interesting rib of shadow) that made up who she was. Weaving its way between their fingers hesitantly, telegraphing more than what she could ever say. Restraint. Respect. And a bit of uncertainty.

But when he laughed, she smiled sheepishly herself. ]

...You said it's like home, right?

[ She settled in, the pain beginning to abate. Whether either of them was aware or not, he was helping that. ]

What is it like? ...Your home?

[ Give her the tools to solve this problem. Tell her your story. ]

[chronosynthesis]

Sort of! Equally uncontrollable, I suppose. [He smiles, resting his other hand on top of hers.

It really is intimate, that little bit of her. But there doesn't seem to be the same projection of soul coming out of Syrlya. Almost like the magic is more pure, basic.]

The home of my people, or the world?

[rememberher]

Oh?

[ ...It was almost simple, nearly childlike, his signature. Feeling it envelope her hand, it surprised her. This was his soul? It wasn't what she had expected at all. ]

...What you're comfortable with.

[ Because the idea of home was such a funny thing to her, such an elusive construct that she was still trying to grab hold of.

Tell her about what made you who you were. What was behind this soul that felt so fresh and pure, what sort of world could foster something that was, in many ways, shockingly beautiful. She would be your captivated audience. ]