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

[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. ]

[chronosynthesis]

Well... we live on the Southern coast, my people. The Sylvari. Our Mother tree is grand and serves as our shelter as we enter the world. She's beautiful.

[He lets out a soft, wistful sigh.] I don't know how to describe it. Have you ever seen a city grown in the trees? ... Do you mostly have humans in your world?

[rememberher]

Mother tree?

[ Lux, didn't you know that it was rude to interrupt story time with questions. Let him get to the good part first.

But a city grown in trees? Her eyes widened slightly in wonder. ]

I've never heard of anything like that.

[ His question gave her pause. Frowning a bit in thought, she hummed gently. ]

Humans, Yordles...

[ Then she paused, her expression clouding slightly. There were others who didn't fit into those molds, remember. But whether or not they still existed in large numbers...

But it wouldn't be fair to exclude them, would it. ]

And others as well. But they're mostly just legends.

[ Once that she had seen with her own eyes. Could she really still call them that? ]

[chronosynthesis]

Yordles? [His brow lifts slightly. But only two races unique...]

There are many on Tyria besides humans, but we are the only people who are foliage. Our origins are... very different.

[He gestures wide.] Imagine a tree so large the roots rise above ground. Bright and full of life. Huts built of tough leaves and bark and all of my people... it is wondrous as a visitor, but for me it is my home and comfort when I am able to return.

[rememberher]

Yes, they're...

[ How does one even begin to describe a Yordle? Her brow creases gently as she considers. ]

Small, with long ears. Most live in Bandle City, in the east. But there are some who live in Demacia as well.

[ People... who are foliage? She looked perplexed, but let Syrlya continue his explanation, hanging on his words, focusing intently on them. ]

...It sounds beautiful.

[chronosynthesis]

[Surely it was obvious, Lux...

He grins wider.] We have people like that as well, though they call themselves Asura. They create phenomenal technology and have created an instant netowkr of travel for all of Tyria. And then there are the Norn, the Charr, Quaggan, Tengu, Hylek...

[rememberher]

Asura.

[ She tried the word on her tongue, in an attempt to make it feel less foreign. To make it feel a bit more real.

His excitement was charming, and she couldn't help but find herself wrapped up in his spell, shifting a bit closer, almost like a child. ]

Your world must be so vast. For so many to live there...

[chronosynthesis]

I don't know if it is any bigger, but I have a hard time imagining any place more beautiful and diverse and full of life! [He squeezes her hand briefly, grinning.] Ah, if I could show it to you I would. I do not know how to do it justice with words alone... but you must trust me, it is a place worth saving. The people are worth it.

[rememberher]

[ Seeing him light up like that, get genuinely excited about his home, how animated his voice became when he spoke of its beauty and grandeur... It was difficult to remember the way that he spoke before, his tone filled with such presence, commanding, demanding attention.

That someone with a signature so pure and green, like a field of wild flowers blowing in the wind, also elicit the sort of response he had from her.

This didn't answer her question, but still managed to solve the problem, so she could take it as a success. ]

I wish I could see it too.

[ Her voice was genuine, and caught up in his burst of happy emotion, she couldn't help but giggle once, gently. ]

It sounds like a wonderful place. Your home, and the people in it.

[chronosynthesis]

There really is nothing like it. [... Because it's the only known community of free dragon minions, but details.] What about you? You said that you come from a place where people do not display their affections very openly... what is your home like?

[rememberher]

[ Free dragon minions? Well, she's sold. Tell her when she can move in.

That she didn't foresee this being turned around on her is quite surprising, and as he asked, about her home, her Demacia, she very visibly quieted.

The first time she had been asked about her home, she answered readily, but when asked what she loved about it, about her country, its people... It felt strange that she still hadn't figured out an answer. She loved her prince. She loved her people. That was what she believed. It was an honor to be Demacian. The greatest honor. To fight for crown and country.

But it sat like a knot in her stomach, that when asked a simple question like this, she hesitated.

"Even if something happens to separate you from your home or call it into question... ...it doesn't mean you have to love it any less. Even saying goodbye and going a different way—all the good memories you have of it, they're still real. It doesn't make it any less your home."

A breath; ]

Demacia. Where I was born and raised. It's a beautiful city, filled with towers that glitter in the sunlight. Perhaps the most beautiful in all of Valoran.

[ Still on script. ]

The people... look to the nobility for guidance. They feel that we can protect them from anything that befalls them.

[ And her eyes hood, her expression growing distant. ]

...But it's very different from your world. Very different from Blanc.

[ ... ]

The people don't smile nearly as brightly as they do here. They are more concerned with appearances and honor than things like love and brotherhood. ...And while we pride ourselves on being a bastion of truth and justice...

[ I have to wonder whether or not that's actually true... ]

...That is where I come from.

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya shifts aside a bit as he listens. Why were humans so occupied with this status they create for themselves...?

Ah.

He squeezes her hand gently.] My people treasure honor, too. We follow a set of tenets that the Mother grew with and took to heart, and we try to live by virtue and goodness to others. I think the greatest honor is trust and love, but other Sylvari interpret it very differently.

We are not perfect at it, but is that the sort of thing that you believe in? That your people do?

[rememberher]

[ Virtue and goodness. It wasn't much different from Demacia, from what she was taught. Those values and principles that were instilled in her even as a young child, before she knew the light of her own magic. But trust and love factored nowhere into this.

Power. Prestige. Righteousness. These were the pillars that held Demacia up, high above all else, bathed in the light of the sun. Love and trust had no place there. But Syrlya should have been able to figure that out already. It just seemed strange... that it took her so long to see it for herself.

Sometimes, when you're surrounded by something, when you are taught (taught) to internalize and obey these principles without question, it was hard to see how flawed and toxic they might be.

And even then, she questioned it. But seeing how the people banded together here—seeing how her fellow Heroes banded together—she felt like she was missing something, somehow lost in translation. ]

...No.

[ He wanted to reassure her, but he only seemed to make things worse. The greatest honor... was to fight, for crown and country. For those great, shining pillars that propped up her fair Demacia, higher than all else. Bathed in the light of the sun, casting its shadows on the rest of the world. ]