Cheers Trey...I'm glad you're still going with it...

...And all you others too!!...Thanks so much...

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I looked up hagiography...I still don't understand it...Damn good word though...

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Magnificent Seven?...Certainly in my Top Five Films of all time mate!!...

...Love it...

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Cheers...

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Aaaamywho...
NEW, IF SLIGHTLY LONGER PARTS!!!...

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Edit - Forgot me previously on KOTNNK!!!....
Previously on KOTNNK!!!...
Small force, fort, J'Drell, Caroline Mcwylde, Thedret et al...Uncles..."Sex with Elves"...Many Baddies, Yskraich!!...
Meanwhile Niil Deaconsson had been sent into the fort's interior to help protect the civilians, as General Oholin felt that the expected all out sword fight was not one of Deaconsson's strong suits...
1.7 – Stand.Beware the Yskraich that lives out beyond
Two hands take your soul
Two hands break your bones
If last hand you shake in friendship’s frail bond
Kiss goodbye your all
Your world soon be gone...
Ayelid nursery rhyme, translated by Tar-Meena, Chief Archivist, The Arcane University. 3E 440.Kelleryn had explained to the horrified knights all the history that was known of the Yskraich.
“So how the
hell do we stop it if it’s un-killable?” Asked Thedret.
Kelleryn shrugged.
J’Drell hissed.
An obviously pained Galasafon said, “We need to go...Now...Aeira...Gnn-need to take
this out of here. Get him to Kvatch as soon as possible.” He indicated Gellert, “Sorry Caroline, your husband may kill me for this.”
“Maybe,” McWylde answered pointing, “but if you lose
him on the way, I know
I will too...”
“Well, at least my life will stop being interesting at least...Aaahh...” He added, wincing. “I need one of your horses, mine is too far away...I left it...Gnnnh... further into the woods...”
“Mine...” Said Kelleryn. Difficult it sometimes was to tell on a Dark-Elf, but Kelleryn was obviously paler. “Cheydinhal Black horse. He will...Will...Help...Carrying him...” Kelleryn pointed at the prisoner.
“What’s his name?” Asked Aeirawen.
“Ewythr.”
There was a huge laugh from J’Drell next to Kelleryn, Aeirawen and Caroline smiled broadly and even Galasafon offered up a chuckle.
Aeirawen leaned over and kissed Kelleryn on the cheek. “Stay alive Oreyn. Galas come on...Gentlemen, lady.” She bowed, then picked up the Dragon Warhammer in one hand and with the other grabbed the other Wood-Elf, who in turn levitated Marrick Gellert and they both ran in the direction of the horses.
“For those of us not entirely familiar with
every Elvish word, what was that all about?” Asked Thedret.
“Oooh...Heh...Oww...Friend Elfling’s horse...Heh-heh...His name...Is Uncle...”
Thedret smiled, shook his head and resumed looking outward.
Kelleryn, for his part, blushed...
“Oh damn.” Said Thedret, “I’m not sure it’s gonna be worth trying to stay hidden for much longer.”
J’Drell looked over the wall and augmented his eyesight once more. He could see the monster lumbering towards them, still at the end of the causeway, but coming closer. Suddenly it stopped. Then some of the spines on the Yskraich’s back started glowing fiercely, and two of the arms started some complicated arc motion. Then, from its mouth, a glowing ball of light oozed out. J’Drell watched as it grew and then shot up into the air. A furiously glowing, eye-watering fuchsia eye looked down at them.
“Ah hell,” said Thedret as he stood up, “
Really not much point now.” He could see the massed forces beyond the Yskraich all glowing the same colour as the eye. He looked down at himself then turned around to see the same glow around the others. He could also make out a running form headed for them through the fort’s entrance and the shapes of some people in the depths of the fort. He looked towards where the horses were and sure enough, he could make out the horses and the retreating forms of Galasafon and Aeirawen.
“Damn.”
---------------------------------------------------
Deaconsson was pretty unimpressed with his chances
before the headaches and the massive life detect spell had shown up. While he granted that the kitchen was
big, it was also full of
stuff. The knights had moved everything they could to the walls of the room in order to clear some swinging space, but if it came to a fight, Deaconsson thought it would be near impossible to win if they managed to get through the door. It was still open at the moment, waiting to be closed when it became necessary. Captain Ordan had put Deaconsson’s friend, Marlshan Jacks in the corridor beyond the door, watching and listening for signs of anyone that wasn’t Holforn, or one of the Knights outside, which they could – rather disconcertingly – now see the shapes of, through the walls.
Some of the staff contingent’s women had started crying and screaming – not unreasonably - as the fuchsia glow had appeared. What probably scared them most was the amount of rats they could see scurrying around the gaps between the stone walls’ blocks. Fortunately, the somewhat portly Breton, Sir Keern Ralman seemed to have more than his share of calming voice spells and had managed to reduce the wailing down to a muffled sob. Hells even Deaconsson felt better about things now.
“Are we going to die mister?” asked a young maid.
“We’re going to do our best to prevent that happening ma’am.” Said Captain Ordan. “The Nine will protect us all.”
“Oooh, lucky us then!” Said another woman with much scorn,
this one Deaconsson thought,
suggested washerwoman.
That’s Ordan thought Deaconsson,
belief in the Nine’s power so strong as to the exclusion of imagination. Good enough to make Captain, but that’s as far as he’ll go. And – presumably – why General Oholin had given the Redguard the message to deliver
do and use whatever it takes to keep everyone alive. He had given Ordan the message only to receive a snort as a reply.
“I think I can manage to hold one room.” Was his reply. Deaconsson had had his first misgivings at that point and it was getting worse.
Deaconsson took in the room. A large, rectangular room. An open fire and ovens along one wall, with chimneys and flues leading up through the ceiling, presumably to exits somewhere on the walls outside. A door to the large cold storage room, where all the fresh food was kept aerated by a few small holes in the wall. All the preparation tables, utensils and whatever else had been shoved along the walls, clearing a space wide enough for three of them to fight in, with one of them behind to protect the civilians, who at the moment were huddled on the floor or sat on chairs at the back of the room. He looked at the group of fifteen men and women. Mostly human, with an Argonian and a couple of Altmer thrown in.
Deaconsson sighed. Maybe whoever comes from that host outside to re-take the fort will be content with removing the knights and leave the staff alone. Maybe. But Deaconsson had once been out with J’Drell and seen for himself the horror that had befallen civilians in ravaged forts. Best to hold and make damned sure.
He looked at the cold storage door again. Then at the men and women. “Ladies, Gentlemen, it’s not going to be pleasant, but until we know what we’re dealing with, you need to get in there.” He said pointing.
“Deaconsson!” Ordan had hissed. Deaconsson looked around at him with his eyebrows raised in question. Ordan sighed, shook his head and walked towards the storage door.
“My friend is right,” he said opening it, “You will need to clear some of it out, but you
will all fit in. So if you would be so kind as to get to that.” He bowed slightly towards the staff.
He walked back to Deaconsson as the people worked. “Don’t do that again. I will give any good ideas due consideration, but you
will run them through me
first.”
Ordan. Close cropped blonde hair on top of an instantly forgettable face, which was set above a tall, wide set frame. You could tell just by looking at him he was from a career soldier’s family, and by his accent probably from some small settlement near Leyawiin. He didn’t come across as a city man. He’d joined the Legion – presumably, as was expected of him – and at some point had found himself called by one of the Nine to come to Kvatch. The Commander had interviewed him – as he did with
all the called – and so here he was, dutiful, unimaginative Darl Ordan.
Deaconsson nodded, “Fair enough.”
It was at this point the life detect had gone out.
They waited as the people finished moving themselves into the storage room.
Ordan said to them before he closed and locked the door, “Stay quiet, whatever happens, stay quiet. It may save your life. I am going to lock this door and see if I can get the key under the door. When it is all done, it would probably be best to send it back eh?” The key went under and someone on the other side pulled it the rest of the way.
Deaconsson and Ordan stood and viewed the room. It seemed much bigger now the staff were out of the way.
They looked to where the food had been cleared to.
Ralman had helped himself to some of the cheese.
“Sir Ralman!!” Ordan shouted, “It is most impolite and insensitive to eat the cheese of people so endangered!!
“Especially without offering
me some first.” Ordan went over and ate some of the food.
Deaconsson walked over to the kitchen’s door. “Jacks! Anything?!” He shouted down the corridor.
“I can hear
something. Don’t know, it may be fighting outside.”
The Redguard looked at the corridor.
Not your kind of fight. He turned to look at Ordan, still busy by the food.
He called his speed fortify and ran to where Jacks was.
“It’s a good job I was expecting you Niil,” Said the wiry Imperial, “I’d have been right out my skin.”
The Redguard smiled. “Would have improved your looks no end my friend.”
“This a friendly visit or did you want something? I’m trying to watch for our certain doom here.”
“You’re faster than me, can you go find three bows and all the arrows you can from all
that lot?” Deaconsson waved towards the remainder of the fort.
“Three?”
Deaconsson nodded.
“Oh hells. Bloody heroic last stand again, isn’t it?”
“Something like that.”
Jacks nodded. “Something like that.” He grinned and was gone.
Deaconsson raised an eyebrow and looked up the corridor.
“Something like that.”
This post has been edited by McBadgere: Nov 22 2011, 10:53 PM