NationStates Jolt Archive

(OOC: This is aimed toward Carloginias mainly. This is a part of Scan's PT Fantasy world found here (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=528122). It's still open, so join if you will. But if your not part of the rp (yet), please don't post.

...

No really, don't.)

Leand looked back at the port he had just left. Knowing that this may be the last time he would see it for ages, he sighed. He then turned and looked at where he was headed - to the west.

The Eastern Islands were expanding. That was the reason for this. As the yellow land brought more and more islands under it's rule, using it's naval might to blockade and bombard, it seem like it didn't receive any opposition. The truth was, Ligbryne was not happy. They had always treaded lightly around it's western neighbour, but the sudden bout of imperialism required a response. The Ligbrynian west sea navy was weak at the moment, but ambitious. On the land, war would be much better for them, but if the westerners gained a foothold on the mainland, that would be a major problem for Ligbrynian interests. Therefore, action would need to be taken.

This action was well organised, much more than any raid on the southern lands. They would land on the Aegkweard Cape, build a small fort, subdue any natives, and build watchtowers along the coast. A massive wall would form to stop any more incursions into Ligbrynian interests. And at the same time, they would bring back the famous cotton of the region - as strong as leather some say - giant plantations would form on the cape, the fields maintained by the natives. Then, they would build a city to show the westerners that they could not only build walls, but buildings. They did not know all the resources they would find. They had received this cotton in the odd scouting raid, but other resources may of been there.

Leand knew he was leaving many things behind, but he also knew he was going to see amazing things. So would the natives - chances are that they might have only rumours of his species exists. The sight of the big black fire breathing monster he was would strike fear into any lesser heart, save for his lesser cousins, who were also accompanying him on this mission. If he did this well, he would be adopted by one of the great families, and would live a great life for the rest of his long existence. Life as a greater dragon was good - there was always enough time.

The natives wouldn’t be too much of a problem. He himself could demolish the small villages. It’s just that he didn’t want the risk of them getting away. They were primitive, only really having the technology the westerners had fought against. Whereas they, they had tactics, strategy, armour, war machines and him.

His small fleet carried a lot of things for the job - granite, naphtha, concrete, food, weapons, armour, and of course the people needed, and well as other things. He couldn't risk sailing all over the target coast in them - spontaneous declarations of war were always a risk. If there was going to be a war, it was going to be on his terms - on firm ground.

As the sun began to sink in the distance, casting golden lights all over the water, looked up into the sky. The stars were just beginning to appear. Many of them formed figures in the sky. It was humourous when people argued over which stars meant what, but it was necessary, for if his people had not argued in the first place, he wouldn't be undertaking this mission now. No, he would act as a airborne ferry for some fat, lazy human. If he was going to glide, it would be by his will, not a being's that he outlasted, outthinked, second guessed and ate. As the night became as dark as his skin, he rested his head on the bed that itself rested on floorboards of the deck, under a giant tent made especially for himself.

Tomorrow would be a long day. It would be a good idea to be fresh while confronting it.

Leand's boat neared the shore, flying the crimson eye as its sail. The natives had seen them before. They never made contact with them usually, but when they did it usally meant slave raids. All they left behind was death, burnt buildings, often with the inhabitants still in them, and the infamous international sign of a raid by Ligbryne, the crimson eye. Everything they didn't destroy they stole. The natives had to ready themselves, and they had to do it quick.

As the boat began to launch landing craft, Leand surveyed the scene. He was donning all his armour, every single plate of it. He felt its weight; he could feel the ebony in the alloy. He was not rich enough to buy completely ebonic armour, but the metal that protected his neck, head, feet and body would do its purpose against arrows.

The only advantage that the natives had was numbers, but the troops would easily cut through the disorganised warbands they would come up against. They had spears, and the occasional sword, but their main weakness was morale. He had ordered his soldiers to be extra violent toward them, and the first sight of attack would make any attempt at organised defence possible. Of course, that would be so if everything went right. If the leaders were strong, they might put up some resistance, but his officers had assured him that the fight would be swift, and that construction could begin by that very day. A port would replace the mud huts of the village. But first, the weeds needed to be cleared.

He turned, and jumped into the crow's nest, that had specially been prepared as a perch for him to jump off. Contrary to popular belief, dragons could not fly; they could only glide, so the extra height meant some extra distance. He took another look at the scene, unfolded his wings, roared, launched himself off the perch, and opened his mouth to burn the village with his fiery breath.

For the villagers, the sight of a black dragon with red eyes raining fire, followed by many soldiers was going to be unnerving, at best.

(OOC: ...and it's someone else's turn to play as the stricken villagers. Either that or I could do that. Scan's call. As for the numbers, just say you‘ll have twice as many soldiers as I do, not including innocents.)

(OOC: Looks like it's my call)

The first pass went fairly well. A couple of the mudhuts were burnt, but only a few people were. But as he landed, he saw several large phalanxes form, their lorgs pointing out toward the village. The villagers fired a couple of disorganised arrow volleys at the soldiers, and they wounded a couple of soldiers, but the phalanxes formed, and started to march. Leand walked toward the town, spear-bearing tribesmen pouring out, brandishing them at the beast he was.

Their attempts amused Leand. He loved these moments, and he opened his mouth and breathed in...

And let rip a jet of flame onto the tribesmen. the combination of the Phalanxes on one side and dragon on the other, though they still fought on, and even susprised the enemy.

The shaman came out, and she tossed a couple of vials of acid on the unit, and casted a couple of spells, causing some to be injured and killed. This interested Leand, and he shouted the order to capture her. As the soldiers did, a couple more were injured, but she was knocked out, and dragged away, and the battle continued. Leand jumped again, and burnt more huts. The phalanxes continued, the arrows bouncing off their armour. However, as they neared the huts of the village, the terrain began to benefit the defenders, and the invaders began to take casualties. These were only injuries, however, and as the women and children began to run, the sacking began.

Later in the day, the soldiers turned into builders, and three construction projects began - one for a pier, another for a lighthouse, and the last for the beginings of a town.

The town had grown up since it's foundation. The lighthouse was nearing completion, the roads were steadly becoming cobblestoned, and the pier had already been completed, complete with a cart to ease transportation of goods.

It had been a while since the tribesman and been driven off, and immigrants had already started coming. It was too early for the majority of the town houses to be built, but plantations had already started forming. Land was cheap, resources plentiful, so the first arrivals were rich, and brought slaves with them, bought from Valgard and the middle human kingdoms. Ages ago, a explorer landed on these shores, and said the cotton here was uncannily hard, rivaling leather. Thus, it was not long before plantations of the stuff sprung up.

Also, a number of forts had also been built, wooden at the moment, soon to be replaced by a stone one, the construction of which had already begun. People tirelessly worked, crane lifting rock into place. Ships constantly were in port, loading granitie into the stone jetty. The whole town was a construction site. A construction site that was expanding.

Every so often, a warband set out to expand territory. They sometimes returned, but often they simply claimed more land.

More and more troops arrived to secure this new holding. The land had truely become a Ligbryian overseas holding.

((OOC- What are your forces stationed at the settlement? And if you want too we could start some sort of Sea Dragon/Land Dragon Rivalry? I also hope you don't mind me being in sight of the town. Sorta a Gmod from my current spot, but I have expert sailors.))

The King of Halestia simply smiled at the news that some outlanders had begun colonizing the coasts of the Western side of the continent. Twould be a large mistake for the outlanders who would dare claim a territory within the Halestian sphere of influence. Again the King smiled. Few knew what the King truly was. He had ruled Halestia for more then 100 years. While elve's typically last much longer then humans, he had thus far gone un aged. Was he a sorcerer? Perhaps but the masses loved him regardless of what he was. He had turned their Kingdom into the world's strongest naval entity.

"Sir..?"

"I am listening, go on." Messangers did tend to be dull.

"They are forming a settlement which could one day form into a mighty city."

"Call up my son, Faistian. I want 12 Quirnemes, one legion, and transport ships. Faistian will lead the expedition to the island. Go messanger of Halestia."

The King's son had also been around for a very long time. He was with his father when the King rose to powers within the island chain and he too had not aged at all. But the matters at hand, and an expanding kingdom turned the people's attention away from their Monarchy and to the continent where hopefully their next posession will be aquired.

Faistian took the news well. His father had always taught him the ways of the army, and navy and he yearned for ways to test his mettle in battle. The legion was equipped with imported mithril armor, and weapons. Faistian.. had no weapons or armor on him, simply clothes. The King had decided that this would be the time to reveal to some of his men the truth behind their age.

The fleet was off towards the Crimson Coast with assurances that Faistian would soon join them. Once the fleet was out of sight dived into the cool, refreshing waters of the bay. The water, dark blue, felt good upon his skin but it was not here where he would make his change, it would be on the ocean blue where he would change. Like his predecessors he would swim with sharks, porpoises, and all matters of fish and they would not harm him, but swim with him. Escorting majesty. They were about a mile away from the fleet. The men always on guard, ready for action did not know what was occuring just a littles way off under the sea.

Faistian was changing. The fish moved away from him as he grew very large. Pearl-Blue scales glistened on his body. A thick underbelly grew. Instead of fingers out came webbed feet with long razor claws attacked to the end of his 'fingers'. His head had gained the serpintine quality of all dragons and teeth like daggers. His eyes saphhire, and his semi-sleek form garned propeller like wings that aided him in underwater maunvers. His feet allowed him on land for only a short amount of time, but that would not matter in this instance. The coast was what was important.

It wasen't long before Faistian's draconic eyes spotted the town. A cheeky little place. Up and coming and bustling with business. It was an ideal spot on the coast for a settlement. The Ligbryians had chosen the spot well. The straits were wonderous as he gazed his eyes upon them. He saw the beautiful white sails of Halestian merchant ships passing through them. They gave him reason and strength to do as his father bade and attain the strategic position.

His fleet gazed upon the town with hungry eyes. They would be upon the town soon. It was difficult to hide Faistian's formidable aura, but he was able to contain it for a while. He wanted to see the response of the Ligbryians.

Even then he entered the mind of the Fleet's admiral

The fortresses are what the catapults must first fire upon. I myself shall give the troops cover as they land on the sandy beaches. Do not be alarmed as I reveal myself. My men will know me. I am sure of it.

(OOC: So, he's going to start attacking from the beach, is he?

As for troop numbers, I'd say about two thrids of yours.

And the rivalry, I'd say you refused they to join Ligbryne formed, or something similar. So a rivalry it is.)

It was a nice day in the town. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, capti with the names of locals carved on them. The odd palm tree lay about. On a small sign, in the runic lanuage of the Ligbrynians, the name of the new town presented itself to the world:

Leandport

The port's climate was very comfitable. The heat was just right, as was the humidity. It was really the sort of weather that you could really relax in.

One particular citizen was remising about how life was great. Her job was to pave the streets. She liked the job, as she slowly worked her way around. Seeing some of the buildings take form. Seeing the ships dock, and unload their cargo. One such boat was at the dock, it's black sails tied up, as they weren't needed. The boat was a small merchant barge, which had been ferrying cargo for the entire town's history. It was nearly finished, and would soon return to the city in the east. Life was good.

She was on the beach, enjoying a siesta, half asleep, half not. She daydreamed about all sorts, having a great time.

A large figure emerged from the sea. The sound wasn't great, but it was enough to wake her up. He looked at the figure. Mistaking it for someone else, she called out, in her native tounge "I see you can swim well, Leand. I've got about three quarters of the inner streets left to do. Just having a quick rest."

(OOC: Your go. I'm about to go to bed, so I might expand on this in the morning.)

((OOC- I haven't actually emerged from the sea yet. Dragons from most fantasies I've read have had impressive vision so that was how I was spotting your town. Is Leand actually in the town? Oh, and I'll just go along with your post. No need to waste typing. I wish there was some sort of Geography map I could find, but I assume (If I am attacking where I think I'm attacking) there would be several hills close to the coast as it is VERY close to a mountain range. How many dragons do you have? In order to balance us out, we'll either need numbers or age superiority. For the long run.))

Faistian's impressive form emerged from the water. A beautiful, but dazed woman was lounging on the beach tired from a hard days work. She spoke in a language Faistian did not understand, but she seemed relaxed when his large figure appeared-- perhaps large ogres or undead Abominations had come to the city, but no. She would of been a lowly ghoul by now should that of happened. It was rather apparent that another dragon was in the city just by her reaction. Faistian studied her for a moment. He knew he should kill her, but he would not. Instead he opened his mouth and she was incased into a block of ice-- still breathing perfectly, but unconcious. She woulden't know what was there. Faistian's gentle tail pushed her into the sea where he could recover her later and bring her back to safety. Woman and children would all be spared their fate in this city. And unless the men surrenderd as well they too would fall.

Faistian again spoke into the minds of his captains-

Storm the beach head quietly. I want the heights attained quickly. Set yourselfs up evenly, but not in a phalanx. Have them withdraw their Yew bows and prepare to fire upon the men and humans that will undoubtably appear. There is a presence here that I have not felt in a long time and I must attend to it. Your position on the heights will be supported by 3 Battle ships with long range capabilities.

Admiral, your job is to bombard the western city catapults. Poor inhabitants. Aim for the wooden fortresses. They should tumble down and cause havoc and panic for the villagers. Hopefully it will cause confusion for the war party in and around the village.

Faistian inferred that what was left of the tribesmen would return to the spot once fires were burning and screams had filled the air. Whether he was right or wrong it would hopefully be a powerful victory for Halestia that day. The troops ushered themselves on the beachs, the light mithril armor allowing them to hold their weapons and armor with ease as they steadily marched up the unoccupied hill. The hill would have little strategic importance for the defenders, but for an invader it was a nice foot hold on the territory.

As the legion made it's way onto the top of the hill, many of the legion commanders looked into the distance at the lumbering mountains. The mountains in Halestia were nothing in comparison to them. After silent orders from their superiors they got in line. Legion Commander Delos Fastfeet and Captain Sorenson soon got the message in their heads-

Keep aware for another dragon. I myself have retreated into the water and am searching for him myself. I am setting up a temporary link between your minds and mind for quick communication. Tell me immidetely if you see him.

Faistian slowly submerged into the water and was out of sight of any presence, man or beast. In order to deter the other dragon away from his men, he let out a weak draconic aura to call in the bait. He assumed his opponent was a young, arrogant dragon but he did not know. Sea Dragons had long chosen their fights wisely and rarely sacrificed themselves foolishly to the elements. Patiently he awaited for Leand, whom he presumed to be the dragon to show himself to Faistian.

Leand woke up, to the feeling that he was not alone. He glanced around his bed - nothing. He forced himself up, and walked out to the balcony.

The scene was disheartening at best. Enemy soldiers marched on his town. But yet, no sign of another of his kind. He decided to mobilise the troops.

A while later, the garison, already alert from the sentries warnings, stood ready to fight. They stood fully equiped - Lorg polearm pointing skywatd, the individual plates on their Ebony armour pointing earthward. It was a sight to see.

Back at Leand's mansion, he stood fully equiped, his gilded armour showing his status. He may be the only Ligbrynian Dragon there. He may be fairly young in dragon years. But his Armour, and strength that kept that armour, provided a tough barrier for any weapon to get though.

He unfolded and lifted his wing, prepared his large legs, and launched himself into the air. He would now be in full range of the another dragon present there.

The sound of stone crushing rock echoed around some of the forts. The damage caused some deaths, but many of the troops had sallied forth to meet the enemy in open battle, where their lines of Lorgs and Dragon support would give them an advantage.

(OOC: Ebony, in case you don't know, if basically mithril, but with weight sacrificed for protection. The armour itself is high quality, also.)