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

At Rome's southern border

[no_heroism]

Gaius stood out in front of his army, chewing on a piece of journey bread as he watched the swarm of madmen charge on, whipped on from behind by the massive, armored figures. His men were nervous, but they seemed to take comfort in the fact that their senior centurion didn't seem worried in the slightest.

He WAS worried a bit, there were an awful damn lot of them, but he wasn't going to let that show. He finished his snack, wiped his hand off, and then turned to his troops. His deep bellow cut through the cries of the cultists with little difficulty. They were still a distance off, after all. "Alright men, this isn't anything we haven't trained for. There's a lot of the bastards, sure, but most of them are disorganized, poorly equipped, and short on brains. Even more important than that though, they're going to lose because they're not legionaires, and if any legionaire dies without permission, I am going to march down to the underworld myself, pull your head off, and piss in the stump!"

The men laughed, if a bit nervously. Gaius stuffed his helmet back on his head, his crimson horsehair plume making him seems taller than he was, and shook his sword in the air, "Let's show these bastards what happens when you mess with the best troops in Dagaria!"

THAT got a cheer. Gaius took his position behind the front rank, from where he could better keep an eye on the battlefield and order troops around or respond to a breach in the line himself if he needed to. The enemy line was getting close. "Pilum at the ready, men!"

Over a thousand iron spears appeared as they were prepared to throw, waiting for the order, showing no fear of the army of madmen came closer and closer.

Re: At Rome's southern border

[blacklegion]

The lost and the damned stagger, their rusted armor punctured by pilum, some of them taken through the chest or neck and slain outright, where they are trampled beneath their mad kin. Behind the line of the fodder, the black-armored warriors advance, smashing into their mad companions if they move so slowly, killing about half as many as the intial volley of the centurions. The charge continues, leaking fetid blood, stinking ichor, and the ragged, arhytmic chanting of many ragged throats can be heard.

[no_heroism]

Relieved of their spears, the legionaires pulled out short stabbing swords and went to work. Wild strikes slid off of tall, semi-cylindrical shields only to be countered by quick short jabs that left men reeling. Anywhere the madmen looked like they might break through, the Roman line was quickly reinforced by more eight-man squads until the pressure was lower. The legionaires bent, but would not break, and the all the while, the madmen suffered horrible casualties, their crazed zeal facing up against the deadly science of war.

Gaius himself was only drawn into the fighting twice, once when a band of madmen literally hurled themselves onto the legionaires to bear them down to the ground so the ones behind them them could pour through, and again when his orders weren't relayed because a sub-officer was hit by a thrown rock. As great a master of the roman fencing style as there was, Gaius quickly dispatched any that got through to him to go back to issuing orders. He wasn't especially worried about these ones. It was the men in black at the back of the army who made him nervous. They looked like they meant business, and they were getting close to the front lines all to quickly.

Northern border of the Rift | Thread is hella open

[ravenraven]

As the maddened and berserk warriors poured out of the Rift, so too did one man. Gigantic, standing at about eight feet tall, the pale-skinned man with black orbs for eyes wore heavy and ornate black armor with wings attached to the back. His left gauntlet was large, with claws wreathed in lightning upon it; his right hand held a coiled whip.

He looked around him and then roared with rage and hatred - plunging his claws into and through the nearest armored warrior.

Re: Northern border of the Rift | Thread is hella open

[blacklegion]

Some of the Black Legion scatter, making way for huge, weapon-studded brutes that make up the remaining terminators of the Justaerin. They snarl back, bladed bolters roaring as they surround Corax and begin a vicious counterattack, blasting and ripping through their own men to get to him.

Re: Northern border of the Rift | Thread is hella open

[ravenraven]

Corax, silent after his first furious roar, reaches to the next corrupt Astartes, dragging him to be between Corax and the terminators, using the accursed traitor as a shield (though one that will undoubtedly not last for very long) His other hand let the whip uncoil, as he lashed it out towards one of the Justaerin.

Issarra

[wanderingbard]

"Is it too late to suggest that making superpowered humans might be a bad idea, even if it seems foolproof at the time? No? Good. Great. Bad idea - Mark it down for the next time I get possessed by a god."

Talking to yourself in the middle of battle is, of course, the favored activity of all lackadaisical wisecracking types. The bard had been rather impaired the previous night and didn't quite remember all the circumstances that had landed him in the middle of a small army in Issarra, but there they were and there he was. As fond as he was of Garvy, there were certain aspects of the man's existence he didn't wholly appreciate, his god's decision-making skills scoring fairly high on that list.

"It's the enhancing draughts, isn't it? You've taken way too many; totally understandable, I hear the athletes overdose on these things all the time and get pretty darn doped outta their minds. Maybe take a walk - some fresh air will calm ya down a little."

This is accompanied by a nice gust of fresh air in the form of a tornado that begins to rip a line through the Rift-spawned army. Happy breathing.

Re: Issarra

[blacklegion]

This asphyxiates many of the cultists, and sends many of the ground-bound warriors flying, but some of the Black legion heads towards Levin on wings of fire, unleashing heavy blasts from their bolters.

[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.

Near the Rift

[bejustorbedead]

Ky Kiske was up with his platoon as the Black Legion poured out. "You know how to battle! Guided by Holy Light, For all those who live on this land, unleash your magical might upon these corrupted souls."

Cheers rose up as Ky steps in front, the Sacred Sword Fuuraiken crackles and glows blue from lightning - bringing light to darkness.

"In front of the populace, We shall be a shield from the storm and a rock of support!" Several voices rose as one as fires lit up, the wind whipped up, and the ground seem to shake as all magic is primed for attack.

"And the lighting that dispels darkness." Ky whispers as he suddenly stabs, an arrow of electricity shot out - spearheading the upcoming foe. It was the signal - fireballs screamed across the sky, aided by too fortuitous gusts and the ground before the Holy Order became thick, mired mud that seem to try to suck in the corrupted ones.

[blacklegion]

The Black Legion leans into the sorcerous assault, like warriors against a strong wind, and a huge, light-distorting Kine shield is thrown up, defending them against the worst of the scourging holy magics. It would seem the Legion has their own sorcerers, and quite strong ones as well. They lumber forward, flanked by strange serpent-helmed guards.

[bejustorbedead]

"Perez, take your men flank left - Alder - fall back, seal their feet to the earth as well as turn it to mud!" Ky barks out as he glances briefly to the sky, the hair stood up at the back of his neck, he could feel how charged the air is. "Men! To me, to the right!" He gestures.

The wielders of earth sorcery moved back, splitting their focus - some continue to turn the earth before the Black Legion into quagmire and quicksand, others did something strange - any spells that got past the sorcerers cause a sensation of heaviness, slowing down and preventing any from jumping.

The rest of the units split, no longer being at the brunt of the charge throwing their magics at both the front and flanks of the corruption. Joining the fireballs and strong winds was powerful lashes of blue lightning and more arrows.

Ky started to build up - a bright white orb danced on the tip of his blade, growing large as he tries to pick out the enemy leader.

imperial city

[puppy_lancer]

Now that Summer Court is over, Lancer is packing up so he can return to his usual station. Slung over his shoulder is not the wooden spear that many have seen him carrying in the past months. Instead, it is the demonic red spear that had finally been unsealed--Gae Bolg.

As he crams the final items into his bundle, he can hear some weird noises from outside. He throws a window open to yell at them to be quiet, but instead of the usual rabble, he catches sight of something quite different...

Re: imperial city

[blacklegion]

A raptor hurtles from the skies towards Lancer, energy-field surrounded claws sparking as it stoops on him like a bird coming towards prey, fire trailing behind it from the jump pack.


"DIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"

Re: imperial city

[puppy_lancer]

He raises his spear to block. Even so, he can feel the shockwaves from the sheer force of the attack. He's quite thankful he has Gae Bolg back. His wooden spear would have snapped already.

Eastern Dalweth - Afternoon

[the_once_and_future]

No rest for the weary, it would seem.

It had not even been a full day since Arturia had returned from her own campaign against the Rift's corrupted legions before yet more returned. Worse, this group was even more deadly than the ones they had recently dispatched. It was easy to be demoralised after that, but her men were the finest of knights, hand-picked for their courage and dedication. And though they could take a great deal of abuse, they were capable of dealing out ten times that much. The pride of Camelot.

With the garrison already alerted in case any appeared within the capitol, Arturia and her company rode out once more for the eastern part of the province. Fortunately, the wounded had been relieved and replaced by rested knights and men-at-arms. And as was her custom, the King of Knights rode fearlessly at the front. Above all, the warrior queen had to set an example for her soldiers and at all times act according to the chivalric code. She was weary, but the king must exude strength.

[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.

[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...

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?"

[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.

Near the Imperial City

[curiouseyes]

Koriand'r had been alarmed when the sun didn't rise that morning on a day that she was planning on exploring. At the very least, she could still absorb energy so the sun's rays weren't completely blocked. Deciding to check it out, she changed into something that was more suitable should she need to fight so she headed out to see what was going on by flight.

It didn't take her long find the creatures that had emerged from the rift. "X'hal... what are these?" She had never seen them before.

[blacklegion]

Corrupted cultists come for Koriand'r, clutching rusted cleavers, hugely distended bellies and maggoty flesh poking out from the edges of their armor. There is nothing but a blank, psychotic look to their eyes.

Jergeth

[wizardsaregodtier]

Having heard, and scryed, enough to know that a response will be necessary, the wizard has taken up position on a hill that he expects to see action. He has prepared several spells, and cast no small measure of them as he anticipates an engagement.

[blacklegion]

The fetid stink of the cultists is the first thing he will sense, as their masses slowly ascend the hill, driven ever onwards by their black-armored masters who ride behind them.