NationStates Jolt Archive


The Fires Of The Isle Burn Again

Ithynia
28-08-2004, 01:16
Jormu'Gandther'Rake, Leader of The Blood Moon Clan, Ruler of the Isle of Ithynia, Warlord of the Ithynian Horde, Sat, in his chambers, looking out over the charred ground of his land, This Isle had once been green, but the fires of war ruin many a green pasture.

Before him lay many parchments, and a quill,

He began to write..

Our destiny concerning the domination over these lands has been foretold by the clan mystics for hundreds of years. Having risen from the mire of swamps and marshes, the Orcish Hordes of Ithynia have swept across this domain in the fulfillment of that destiny. Many ages passed as our influence slowly spread, causing pain and darkness to follow in our wake. Be they in lush plains, hidden in thick forests, or at the rocky crags overlooking the seaside our armies rolled over what pathetic resistance our enemies could muster. Their crops died on the stalk and their fields lay fallow, for we left none alive to tend them. Using the arcane powers of our Warlocks and Necromancers, not even the mightiest of our foes could long stand against our increasing onslaught. One by one our enemies fell, and we became stronger with each victory. In time, by subjugating all who would oppose our rise to power, and enslaving these weaker races to use as we pleased, we conquered both nature and creatures to finally rise to the pinnacle of this Isle...

Still we craved more, and decades of constant bickering between clans served to divide our race amongst itself. Soon factions arose, each seeking to control the Orcish domain for themselves. These petty arguments turned to armed conflict, and then to war as the need for conquest burned hot in our blood. If no lands existed that were ruled by enemies, then we would take the lands of our brethren.

The only clan to ignore these plays for power were the Warlocks. Secluded in their towers, they saw the danger that was present. Although it pleased the Necromancers that these battles fed the earth and underworld with rivers of blood, the Warlocks feared that no Orc would be left alive. This would serve to upset the delicate balance that allowed them to control the powers that they held in check and called upon to work their magiks. If this balance were to be maintained, the Orcish hordes would need to be supplied with new battles against a common foe.

It was during a period of exploration that many more lands surrounded our own were discovered, over the seas, many lands filled with many strange things, and one warlock left to see them.

The stories that this subject returned with almost convinced his colleagues that the experience had left him insane, but the strange, unknown plants he held served as sure evidence of his claims. This allowed the sect to approach the strongest leaders of the splintered Orc clans and request that they cease their war for one year. At the end of that time, they promised the chance to accomplish the taking of a new land.

Transversing the sea's proved to be easier the more the newly constructed fleet trained to do it, and within the passing of three moons, it stood ready to send a small detachment of troops to this new land. A fleet of black ships was the sight that greeted the Orcish clan chiefs. Streaks of black and red raced across them. And once the troops boarded, the fleet left.

The sack of the village on the coast was a simple matter, hardly worth the telling. Yet hundreds of times the tale was recounted, and a hundred more would be expected and relished. A group of strange, sharp edged buildings was the first sign of any true opposition they encountered. A rough dirt path lead into a trio of farms. The gray of dawn was lightening as the sun of this world rose over the hilltops. Then out of the odd little hut came what must have been a member of this lands true race. Small, pink and spare of muscle were these creatures. The warriors grinned wickedly at each other, knowing that if this represented the breed of stock they would need to pen in order to take this land, victory was but a matter of moments. Rushing out of their hiding place, they swarmed upon the village and slew every living thing they could find. The males offered some small resistance, but the females and children were like taking grok to the slaughter. Their homes held few values, but their field were full of a tasty grain. Their livestock, as little as there was, also proved excellent, and what they could not eat or pack was set to the torch. The trinkets brought back from this place were of a craftsmanship unknown to the Orcs, and were quickly taken by the leaders of the clans for their own treasure hordes. This new land, heavy with vast expanses and soft, weak protectors would prove a rich jewel to add the crown of the Orcs.

Our order of ascension is a simple one - only the strongest survive. All matters of politics or dispute are settled in open debate. This can lead to hostilities in many cases, but it is the fastest and simplest way to come to a conclusion on most matters. Each Orc has the right to make heard his arguments, as long as he can back them up with fact - or steel. To gain the upper hand is a sign of strength, and strength is counted highly among the hordes. A decisive victory in battle raises the commander and his warriors to a place of honor and control. This hold is tenuous, however, for the higher one climbs, the farther - and more deadly - the fall.


By this time, we had learned much of this new domain, and those who dwelled here. While difficult to understand in many ways, they proved similar enough to us in many ways. A sharp blow to the head resulted in death. Lack of food led to starvation. Pain also affected them in the same way it had all of our enemies, and proved to be an effective means of extracting information.

To learn that the name of this place was Anera, and the inhabitants here were called Humans, was among the first bits of information we gathered. We began the taking of Anera by moving out cautiously, and learning what we could, but all too soon rash judgment prevailed as the taste of greed tainted the palettes of the Orcish clan chiefs. After many arguments ensued, it was decreed that an assault upon the tall castle in the north would serve to crush our enemies and place the Orcs upon the throne of power. More and more warriors were brought across the sea, and with them seemed to come the essence of our land.

Entry into the castle was a simple matter, for the prosperity that had made this land so attractive to us had also bred weakness in the Humans. Their guards were unprepared as our forces poured through the gates and over the walls of their stronghold. Their males did well to stop us for as long as they did, but our numbers and strength soon tilted the battle in our favor. Victory would have been assured, but for the arrival of their great, mounted soldiers. These fiends rode atop beasts of muscle and sinew that crashed through our ranks and dealt as much damage to our troops as did their riders. These knights, as we have come to know them, rallied what few soldiers remained, and began driving us out of the castle. Our every turn was countered as we were forced to retreat towards the gateway back to our world. Some trick of magic had them always at our back, sides, and in our path. We barely reached the edges of the swamplands that now surrounded the beach and eluded our pursuers in its murky depths.

It has been some fifteen years since this costly decision altered the course of our destiny. Many called for the retreat home, while other factions fought for another attack upon the Humans with all of our forces. Out of this chaos arose a single Orc with a cunning and guile that few others possessed. Careful manipulations and the use of what support he could muster made his voice ever stronger as time passed. After key opponents were dealt with, few could offer any opposition to his plans, and the rule of the great Orc Warlord Jormu'Gandther'Rake was upon our people.

My cruelty and dominance in battle is only overshadowed by my lust for power. I have studied the means with which Human armies are able to defeat overpowering numbers of Orcs through strategy and guile. From these tactics I have learned to bring organization to the scattered attacks of our raiding parties. I sought assistance from both houses of the arcane arts, searching for other weapons to add to my arsenal. The culmination of these plans was the uniting of all the Orcish clans in Ithynia - Armies, Warlocks and Necromancers alike - to bring about the eventual destruction of the Human race, Already Complete in Anera, where not long ago the last humans were eradicated or enslaved, but it is not enough, Back home, Our Fires of war burn again, each day new orcs arise to battle, and come across the oceans, and new weapons are forged, We must find new lands to conquer, The Age of Chaos is now at hand.

Jormu'Gandther'Rake finished writing, and stood and looked out of the window, a Dragon, a gold one, rare, one of the messenger brood, had landed in the courtyard.

Jormu'Gandther'Rake quickly made his way outside into the courtyard, greeted the dragon, gave him a message, and sent him off in search of allies.. orc's or others of the same ideals, for aid in the wars to come upon more of the Human races of this world.

The dragon flew off into the distance...
Carpathian States
28-08-2004, 01:31
OOC: Definitely one of the best storylines I've ever read. Good job! If you would like, I could RP as the humans you're fighting with. I'm also guessing you're a Warcraft fan.
Ithynia
28-08-2004, 01:32
OOC: Thanks, yes i am :), im actually hoping to encounter Real NS nations to .. battle with.. but you never know
Carpathian States
28-08-2004, 01:36
OOC: Thanks, yes i am :), im actually hoping to encounter Real NS nations to .. battle with.. but you never know

awesome, well, if you ever want to get into a 'conflict', let me know. I have a few good friends that are great at RP'ing.
Ithynia
28-08-2004, 02:15
OOC: I will keep that in mind :)
Gawdly
28-08-2004, 02:23
What is magic?

What is steel?

Both are deadly in the hands of a Master.

The only name that he would answer to was Darkness, for his real name was a thing of great power, and his greatest secret. The tall, cloaked figure was not one to share secrets.

In his world, power was rampant, flowing through the earth like rivers of molten mana, giving strength to those who knew how to tap its vast potential. Those that harnessed the mystic energy were called Warlock by their peers, and by their enemies.

Darkness stood alone from his brethren, more than the sum of their parts, a conduit for the eldritch world that lay beyond the mortal ken. He was power, pure and simple.

He gestured subtly, and a large, black raven appeared. He smiled at the bird as it came to rest on his outstretched arm. With his free hand, he wrapped a small, rolled parchment onto the ravens leg. Leaning close, he whispered menacingly to it.

"Fly now to Ithynia, and bring my words to Jormu'Gandther'Rake." The bird returned his cold stare, and flew off with a loud screech. Darkness watched it disappear into the distance, moving at an unnatural speed. He turned away from the window and reached for an ornate goblet, filled with crimson fire. He drank deep, savoring the heat of the blood. Now it would begin.

The parchment read, very simply: I am yours.

"
Ermor
28-08-2004, 06:38
The insanity of the living was always greatly appreciated by those who were already dead. The more they killed, the more they replenished the Underworld. It was for them but an excellent source of new undead to fill their ranks, as they bring back their "kin" to the realms of the living. The living that have taken it as their role in life to kill others were considered a corrupt blessing for the dead, as those who kill unwittingly help their cause, and those who kill many help the cause even more.

The magic of death the Necromancers of Ithynia had used for so long had not gone unseen by the Ashen Empire, but they did not care much about their trespasses. They seemed to simply reanimate the corpses, which did not matter to the undead. They had only scratched the surface of the dark magics they use, and that was a state the undead very much wanted them to be.

But it had been seen that they were not undefeatable. They had been obstructed by a band of living men, for the first time their hordes had been defeated. The Lich Queen would have preferred the situation to be... Different, even then. But the dead do not directly interfere, no. Showing the living that they are being used would not be the best course of action.

She had told many a Dusk Elder to bombard humans - or any other beings those orcs could find - with magical attacks. That would be when the time would be right, and that time was drawing closer. She had not ordered them to stop doing what they were doing at the time, though, so whatever they might be doing would not be interrupted, it was not to be their main area of concern. They would begin when the Queen tells them to do so.

She had told them to collect many gems they would need doing this unknown and quite possibly unwanted favor. Whenever the time would come, their targets would feel the wrath of the dead, and they would not even know who or what would be the cause of those attacks. They would know nothing else but that those attacks came when an unknown enemy did also.
Ithynia
28-08-2004, 12:43
I am yours

The Words on a simple piece of parchment were among the main things on Jormu'Gandther'Rake's mind, how such a simple sentence could.. trouble him was a worry, and it had troubled him on his trip to the Human Castle across the oceans, now adopted as a Orcish Stronghold, The Humans had called it "Aldrake Citadel".

A Orc, a runner, came into the Throne Room, he stopped, and spoke with his gnarlish tone, without even pausing for breath.

"My Lord, a human encampment was discovered on the beach, most possibly survivors that fled across the oceans, but came back thinking they might score a victory or two, they were well supplied with weapons we have yet to encounter here"

"Well? Get to the point" Jormu'Gandther'Rake Asked

"They Were slewn, much easier than usual however, alot seemed amiss" The Runner hissed

"Does it matter, they were defeated, their blood now feeds the underworld! Burn their ships, prepare the fleet, its time to cross the oceans once more, we will slay all who we find!" Jormu'Gandther'Rake Bellowed, and dismissed the runner.

He looked out of the Throne Rooms grand window, Anera was charred, Much like Ithynia, the fires of war had burned these green pastures too, and they would burn more, soon.
Ithynia
28-08-2004, 18:35
OOC: Bump.
Mageddon
28-08-2004, 20:00
Captain George Balkin of the Jade Knighthood looked at the people seated around him. On his left were General John Parkins of The Order of The White Falcon and Priestess Jessica Faloon, the self-proclaimed leader of the Clerics that would be joining them. To his right was Chief Rockheart of the Fire Hawk barbarians. Next to the Chief was an empty chair.

"They're late." Chief Rockheart crossed his arms in disgust.

"They're Slayers, what did you expect?" Priestess Faloon answered, shaking her head. "To them, the only time that matters is their own."

In Captain Balkin's original plan, there were to be six members at this meeting. He had hoped that The Slayers of Nin-Kai and the Necromancers of The Fallen Mount would put aside their differences. No such luck. He had been forced to choose one or the other, and walking corpses always freaked him out.
The flap of the tent opened and in walked a man with a long sword at his side and a strange character tattooed around his right eye.

"I am Sylen Tanjay of The Slayers of Nin-Kai." As soon as he spoke, Chief Rockheart's earlier irritation vanished. With all the myths circulating around the Slayers, even he was a little bit frightened by them.

Sylen took his place next to Chief Rockheart and Captain Balkin cleared his throat.

"Thank you all for coming. I have assembled this coalition to deal with the problems in Anera. I am referring, of course, to the Orcs. They have become unnaturally cunning as of late and I believe this may be due to one of two things. Either they're being lead by an exceptionally intelligent Orc or-"

"They are being lead by an Orc who is under demonic influence," Sylen interrupted. "So that's why you called for Slayers."

"Exactly, your people have proven exceptionally talented at dealing with demons. Now, let's talk forces. I have at my command 1,000 of the best the Knighthood has to offer."

General Parkins spoke next, "The Order has sent 25,000 soldiers and 30 Siege Engines of varying types."

Priestess Faloon paused for a moment before speaking, counting people in her head, "We have about 800 skilled healers."

Chief Rockheart speaks with a booming voice, "We have brought 30,000 warriors, fire mages and beast callers."

"Fifty," Sylen said simply.

"Thousand?!" exclaimed General Parkins.

"Nah, just fifty. Oh, and Farseer Michael thought it would be best if he sent along one of his apprentices." Everyone else's eyes widened in shock. "But don't get excited, apparently he didn't think he should send a good apprentice. Miss Dalmine is easily outperformed by most of our mages and the rest equal her without much difficulty."

"So that gives us a total of... 56,851." Priestess Faloon smiles slightly.

"Excellent," Captain Balkin concluded, "We will leave for Anera tomorrow morning."
Ithynia
28-08-2004, 20:29
The Mist of the Morning in Anera hung over the land, The Ruins of the Human Port of Strazon seemed eerie, even to the Orcish Watchtower placed on the clifftop overshadowing the town, The small garrison looked out into the sea, not that much could be seen through the mist, but, unlikely as it was, they could see something.

The beacon of the Watchtower was lit, acknowledged by the fire of another one, which lit another, all the way beacons lit up back to the Main Orcish encampment at Aldrake.

Jormu'Gandther'Rake awoke, the cries of warriors readying their weapons filled his mind, he looked out and saw the beacons through the morning mist, stretching out into the distance, he quickly arose, took his armour, and began to put it on whilst running down the steps into the courtyard, battallions of warriors were marching out of the huge space, towards the coast.

"What is going on here? An upstart general trying to oust me?" Jormu'Gandther'Rake asked one of the Commanders, who was in the process of jumping onto his Wolf-Hound.

"Ships spotted off the coast, lots of'em, Says that runner, generals all thought you'd already gone lord" The commander snarled, pointing towards an exhausted runner, a new one obviously, but Jormu'Gandther'Rake didnt have time to question him, if this was true it would need speed to answer.

Jormu'Gandther'Rake jumped up onto one of the best Wolf-hounds, took position at the head of a battallion, and began his march to the coast near Strazon.
Ithynia
29-08-2004, 01:40
=-=-BUMP-=-=
Red Tide2
29-08-2004, 01:50
OOC:What tech level is this? If modern nations are allowed I am in.
Ithynia
29-08-2004, 02:05
OOC: At the moment its swords and bows, if you get my meaning, but it could soon change ;) if you get my meaning, just need the motivation
Weyr
29-08-2004, 02:23
OOC: I'm practically space-tech/fantasy at this point, so it'd be a slaughterfest between my giant skyships, my carbon nano-chainmail infantry, and my bulletproof alchemists and magi'i. So...I'll watch this but prolly not join unless there's a good reason. If Red Tide 2 gets involved, I bring in the skyships. This post will serve as a glorified tag.

The Tower of Magi'i monitored everything, in the sense that important things tended to get their attention in some way. Something abour Ermor, stuff about orcs, undeveloped nations moving their armies, it all went into the giant cyclers, which rotated at a geologic rate in the basement of The Tower's three-hundred-story bulk.

Two skyfleets, packing enough firepower to destroy a world, were on maneuvers over some piece of ocean, far away from normal shippng lanes, testing out new modifications that allowed magi'i and alchemists improved battle capabilities. This meant that only the ancient Sakura skyships and the incomplete Third Skygroup were at the skydock in the metropolis of Wye, but there were no real attacks projected at the moment in any case.
Mageddon
29-08-2004, 14:30
General Parkins stood at the bow of his ship. He smiled at the mist surounding the fleet.

"They'll never even see us com-" Fire iginted on a hill top. One by one, new fires lit along the coast. "Damn."

"Couldn't have summed it up better myself!" General Parkins turned to see the small, sleek, Slayer ship. At it's bow, Sylen stood. "What do you propose we do?"

"Arm catapults!" This was as much a responce to Sylen as it was an order to the crew. On the deck of each ship, catapults and trebuches were preped to fire. Their amo was small, weak, powder bombs loaded with glass, metal and other bits of shrapnel. "Fire!" The projectiles hurtled off into the sky. They would be nowhere near acurate, however their true intent was mearly to get the orcs off the beaches.
Ithynia
29-08-2004, 14:52
The Orcs From Aldrake arrived to see the beaches .. unsafe at the least, A few of the bowmen were sent up the cliff to support the Garrison and to fire down upon any landing troops.

The Orcish Battallions took up position inland, at the Hashan Pass, this pass was where all the paths from Strazon and the beaches passed Through, This advantage would be needed, the invaders were most likely well trained, and the orcs were down on numbers, only 130,000 Could be mustered from Aldrake.

Jormu'Gandther'Rake Stood at the front lines, watching the beaches, signalling the bowmen on the cliffs, then watched, and waited.
Ermor
29-08-2004, 15:19
And war had found those lands again, the Lich Queen had noticed. A few Black Servants worked as her eyes there, and she could see everything through them. How fitting that the ones invading this time were human. How unfitting that they attacked with such a small army. But their reason for the attack was one the undead would not tolerate - to destroy the orcs to create a new age of peace. Only war was beneficient for the dead, as it caused death to flourish in a time much shorter than it would require in the times of peace. Only during war would the numbers of those who would become Wights in the lands of the dead would grow.

And so, they would begin.

The Lich Queen had said the word to the Dusk Elders. Of course, it would be too... Obvious, too easy to realize that something was wrong if they had brought all of their spells upon the humans at a time. No, instead they start with arrows that would seek their way against the enemy's commanders, their leaders upon their ships. Who would notice anything as arrows would be flooding the battlefield soon enough anyway?

Ten Dusk Elders could use that spell, and so they did. Who those arrows would hit they would not know, but they should strike at the hearts of the orcish horde's enemy's leaders, and knowing that was enough. It is known that it does not always go deep enough to kill and that sometimes it does not even hit the general area of the heart as the target moves, but nonetheless, the spell is quite effective.

Five other Dusk Elders were to hunt the minds of the enemy's leaders. If successful, they would crush the unsuspecting target's mind, killing him or her instantly. But it was a dangerous task - if the enemy would have those capable in the ways of astral magic or just ones with great powers of the mind, they could see the "cord" that must always be present to connect the mind of the hunter to his body, as if it is severed, the hunter loses his mind that can only be restored by unusual means.
Mageddon
30-08-2004, 01:40
The ships moved in tword the beach and the army prepared to unload. On board the Slayers' ship, an archer scaned the surroundings.

"Do they really think we can't see them," She muttered in disbelife. She knotched one of her arrows. Seeing her, the rest of the Slayer archers did the same. Their arrows had big nasty barbs that would make their removal quite painful. With a nod, the archers send their arrows upward.

As he gets off his boat with everyone else, Sylen stiffens. He turns to the woman beside him. "You feel that, Miss Dalmine?"

"Yes. It is strong dark magic." Fiona Dalmine nods. "Should we worry?"

"I don't need to because of this," He pointed to the symbol around his eye. "It's a ward that protects me from inderect dark magic."

"Then I guess I'm safe, too." Fiona raised her hand, revealing a similar mark on the back of it.

"Guess the others are on their own," Sylen said grimly.

ooc: Sorry, I need to be on land to put up anything that looks remotly like a fight. My posts'll get better once my forces are on land. Oh, and Emeral? I'll get to your mind hunt thingy later, okay?
Ermor
30-08-2004, 06:10
(OOC: Seeking Arrows are *air* magic and mind hunt is *astral* magic. They are pretty nice and pure magic, both, and the arrow is just a physical arrow that aims for your heart. If I was throwing, say, a Manifestation at you, THAT would be "dark magic", since it's death magic-based, but I'm not doing that. Unless, of course, you consider all magic used by others "dark". ;-) )
Ithynia
30-08-2004, 12:58
OOC: Ill presume you meant my archers on the clifftops etc, because the rest of the troops are inland, the pass isnt visible untill you actually turn into it, if you know what i mean.

IC:

The Flurry of arrows landed amidst the Orcish Bowmen, Some were instantly killed, while most were hit indirectly, it would take great time and effort to safely remove the barbed arrows, so they would attempt to fight, when the time came, hindered by their injuries.

The untouched Archers took note of the general direction of the arrows, they aimed, and let loose with their arrows, futile, but with the amount of ships probably out there, it was likely they would hit a few targets.

Deaths:
28 Orcish Bowmen
Injuries:
32 Orcish Bowmen
Ithynia
17-11-2004, 12:56
--Is Anyone Willing to Continue this--

Arda, i call to you.. :).