It begins: Initial battle with the Black Legion Log

[blacklegion]

Who: The Black Legion, any PC who wants to participate
What: The first assault of the Black Legion
When: 5 August, late morning, throughout the day
Where: All over dagaria


Across Dagaria, as Summer court ends, the morning light does not come. Only darkness, seemingly seeping out of the Rift, can be seen, and hundreds of warriors in battle plate with strange, mad symbols cut into them storm out of it, slaying, burning, and taking slaves. They have come for Zeon, for Amestris, for all the countries of Dagaria. Cities, towns, cathedrals, castles, any structure that stands is being struck at by raving cultists, or the grim, cold precision of corrupt Astartes. They are the Fallen, the traitors, pouring forth from the mouth of hell to howl this phrase with one voice, as their bolters roar, and chainswords grind, "DEATH TO LIFE! DEATH TO THE FALSE EMPEROR."

Dagaria, the Black Legion has come for you, respond as you will.

(Ooc This is all initial attacks, and if you want to individually thread or group thread thats just fine, just let me know in your initial tag so I know how many people I'll be tagging. Feel free to group up or solo fight, but be aware these foes are DEADLY. Mind, this is the initial attack, they haven't engulfed the land. You can fight or escape as you will, and the warbands are fairly small and can be engaged by equal or superior numbers of local troops in any place you choose to fight. Please indicate in your tags to this entry as well WHERE you are fighting, as that will dictate what kind of foes come after you.)

Comments

[blacklegion]

The Black Legion comes to greet them, driving mad cultists with fire-lances, spears, blades, or nothing at all but wretchedly mutated tentacle limbs before them, they approach the proud knights in a massive wave, looking to set upon the King of Knights warriors and bludgeon them to death with a mixture of numbers and mass, the huge armored forms striding behind the first line of madmen pushing them forward with the sheer force of personality and terror that they carry with them. The first fire-lances loose, blasting flames towards the knights as they make a pell-mell charge, their scream inchoate rage and incoherent utterings.

[blacklegion]

The cultists are sucked into the muck, and crushed under the feet of the seemingly unyielding legionaries. Memories of Berserker are probably screaming to Ky now, for they are the shadow opposites of his pearl-colored destructiveness, somehow far more unwholesome than his righteous fire. The kine shield starts to crumple at the edges, and the smell of burned ceramite and charred flesh wafts over the battlefield as the fireballs and winds blast into the ranks, but they are answered by brutal, explosive magical bolts coughing from blocky boltguns of the Black Legion. They will likely be scything down the ranks of Ky's men, every shot strong enough to punch through armor and explode the man inside it. These were the warriors the Emperor of Belka used to conquer his empire.

[blacklegion]

The raptor digs its feet, also clawed, into the window's ledge, and tries to smash Cu Chullain back and down onto the ground for a finishing blow, screaming psychotic defiance from distorted lips into his face.

[wanderingbard]

"How is this fair? I can't even fly, and I'm a descendent of a wind god."

Levin seems relatively unfazed, though, as he darts and tumbles around the offensive fire with the ephemeral swiftness of air. He rustles around in his satchel for a moment or two to bring out a new tome he'd been studying on the side. Suddenly, being air-bound might not seem like the best idea as lightning crackles and roars from the sky.

[blacklegion]

The air-bound Raptors die in no small number, their crystal-powered jump packs detonating as the arcing electricity sends their systems out of control, and they smash into the ground as giblets of falling flesh and ceramite. But before Levin a huge figure appears, much like a crimson clone of Loken in red plate, bringing down a tremendously toothed chainsword for the kill.

"Bleed for me, pretty boy!"

[wanderingbard]

"Aw, shucks, don't be so forward. Sorry to say I've got my bodily fluids all saved up for a certain special someone already."

Levin + Chainsaw = A Grave Loss to the World, which is why the bard performs a small backward hop, aiming a gust of wind straight at the giant figure's feet. To unsteady him, yes, but moreso to turn his small backwards hop into a hundred yard backwards glide. Distance was a friend to any magician, and using the force of his own casting to blow himself back was a trick he had learned early on.

Too bad it meant the witty banter would need to be hollered.

[puppy_lancer]

He braces himself to keep from falling. Holding on to his spear with one hand, he curls his other hand into a fist and throws a punch at the raptor's head.

[the_once_and_future]

The first line of defence threw their heater shields up, employing the proven phalanx formation tactics of the Belkans, deflecting the first wave of projectiles. Arturia signalled to hold their position, but most of these knights and men-at-arms were experienced and knew to wait until the Legion was within range of their spears.

The horde of madmen closed swiftly, but Arturia only dropped her arm when the crucial window of opportunity presented itself. Spears flew out at the rapidly advancing enemy, and once discarded were fluidly replaced with short swords and bastard swords. In the blink of an eye, the formation had quickly turned into a flurry of blades cutting through the mad cultists. However, there was a vulnerable opening in their formation...

[blacklegion]

Punching a superhuman with a helmet on in the head is remarkably ineffective, and he continues wrestling with Cu Chullain for control of the spear and the ledge, exerting his significant physical might AND giving a burst of the thrusters to try to smash Cu into the room and through a few walls if need be.

[puppy_lancer]

"Damn."

So physical force didn't work on these guys. He traces the ansuz rune in the air. Maybe a fireburst would get rid of the attacker.

[blacklegion]

And one of the black-armored warriors driving the cultists will punch into the formation, his chainsword eviscerating a knight with a swift sweep of the blade. Pale ghostlight plays from within the helm, like burning eyes probing for a worthy champion to kill for his dark gods, the better to praise them with butchery and blood. He roars a challenge.

[blacklegion]

The champion howls in frustration at being denied his prey, and unleashes his bolter, chugging death downrange towards Levin.

[blacklegion]

Fire blazes all around the Raptor, scalding him, blackening the already dark armor. The raptor stalks towards Cu Chullain, claws crackling with power.

[puppy_lancer]

It's annoy how well the being had withstood his attack so far, but at the same time, it was exciting. However, now that he has an opening, Lancer is switching to the offensive. He steps forward, thrusting with his spear.

[wanderingbard]

"Gee. I can slot you in for Friday night if you're really that desperate."

Levin murmurs to himself as he lies low and dodges as much as he can. His entire strategy relied on avoiding 99% of the hits thrown his way, which, he could admit, was troublesome in the face of a weapon that shot 100 bolts in the space of five minutes. Time to nip this thing in the bud.

If the Rift was a dimension of unholy abominations, then perhaps it was time to shine a little light on the matter. The bard stands and raises a hand.

"We're not on the best of terms, but they don't mind helpin' out a good cause, right? In the name of the gods...!"

A streak of divine light surges forth through the field towards his enemy.

[blacklegion]

The spear is more effective, the relic weapon punching through the war-plate and slaying the Raptor swiftly, almost undramatically. It would seem the Emperor's gifts are quite mighty.

[blacklegion]

The foe explodes into a burst of fragmenting metal and charred flesh, sending chunks everywhere as the bolter falls, blasting its last shots into the ground.

[puppy_lancer]

He stares at the corpse of the raptor and nudges it with the point of its spear to ascertain that it truly is dead. That was a little anticlimatic, to say the least.

However, just because the threat in this room is taken care of doesn't mean that there aren't more of those things lurking outside. Without a second thought, Lancer leaps out of the window, intent on looking for more of the black creatures to fight.

[ravenraven]

Some distance away, a large man in winged black armor, clearly related to that of the dictator of Rome's, was watching. Well hidden, he was far enough from the actual battle not to be spotted, his sharp senses allowing him to see the fight as though he were looking through a spyglass. From this hidden vantage point, he watched, waiting and biding his time for the right moment to enter the fray, waiting for the best moment to inflict maximum disruption upon the enemy ranks with his arrival.

[wanderingbard]

Levin blinks.

"...Huh. Wow. I must be way more holy than I thought."

He blows off the imaginary smoke from his pointer finger and dusts off his hands.

"Well, off to go write a song about myself."

[blacklegion]

The hordes seem to be spreading out all over.

Imperial City and headed south

[thirdtimesthechar]

Well, there were other places Char really should be at this point, but as he and his flagship were both in the Imperial City for the Summer Court, he didn't have much choice but to shoot his way across several of the bands of insane cultists and Riftspawn as he and his retinue made their way toward Chaodan.

The people who suggested he make his way safely home via Waypoint just got a dirty look and a question about why he shouldn't get out and stretch his legs.

Regardless, the Rewloola was blasting its way judiciously through the Rift-mobs outside of Imperial City.

"Load grapeshot and fire into those robed cultists," he instructed his sailors, more irritated than anything. "Save the Crystal munitions for the big ones when we get their attention. Crystal King, can't we have one Court that ends peacefully?"

[puppy_lancer]

He'll be eagerly diving into the horde, calling out to any of the beings that seem willing to fight him.

[blacklegion]

The grapeshot scythes down the cultists in an incarnadine spray, shredding them into something that resembles pulled pork, and smashes others to jelly.

Many icon-bearers fall, but the black armored warriors that are driving the cultists forward begin returning fire, boltguns similar to that of Garviel and the ultramarines, and heavier weapons punching shots up into the sky, bracketing the rewoola, trying to suppress some of the brutal firepower it is bringing to bear.

[thirdtimesthechar]

"And that would be their attention," Char says. "Raise altitude and perform evasive maneuvers, we don't want to get hit with those things."

Char notes the archaically powerful weaponry. He's used to seeing unusual weapons in the hands of Riftspawn, but not ones that had quite so much of a kick as the ones that carve grazing grooves into the bottom of his ship at this altitude. Then again, maybe they picked them up from fallen Crusade Company members...

Char stops his musing and strings his longbow. Muskets are good, and rifles are even better, but for efficient long-range sniping, especially from this high up, sometimes the classics are best. He rushes up to the forecastle and sights along the ground for any Riftspawn big enough to spot. He draws back the string with a Crystal-tipped arrow and fires downward, hoping to arc a shot into one of the monsters and get them to rethink shooting at his ship.