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2705:11:27 In the great city of
Rotan, the battle against the trolls is all but over. Not all of the trolls are
dead. Throughout the city, bands of well-armed
soldiers are still hunting down lone stragglers. Outside the city
walls,
the surviving members of the cavalry are pursuing fleeing trolls into
the
surrounding country-side. Occasionally, one of the brutish creatures
mounts a spirited attack, but for the most part, the retreating trolls
seem confused and make easy targets. On the edge of the
battlefield, where Belimirar conjured an illusionary
pile of rotting meat earlier, a huge pile of troll corpses has been set
alight. Noxious, vile-smelling fumes billow forth from the pyre,
filling
the sky. Inside the city, the clerics tend the wounded, and families
begin
to mourn their lost loved ones. The defenders of Rotan
have been victorious, but the cost has been high.
The dead number in the hundreds, and the wounded hundreds more. But
even
as the Lords of Rotan muster their remaining energy to direct the
cleaning-up operation in their city, news begins to arrive from other
parts
of Ivrea, and beyond... -oOo- In Simipia, after hours
of fierce fighting, there is a sudden reprieve. The
trolls suddenly fall back and appear to engage in combat with forces
inside
the occupied western portion of the city. During a daring raid into the
west
to rescue a group of trapped school children, Jess Farstrider almost
runs
into the middle of a battle between a green troll and two mind-flayers.
While
one of the tentacled creatures seems to be holding the troll stationary
through
sheer force of will, the other levitates a massive section of collapsed
wall
and, with a rapid gesture, brings it crashing down brutally onto the
troll's
head and torso. Jess beats a hasty
retreat, but as soon as she gets the children to a relatively
safe part of the city, she uses her Manticorum blade to contact
Damalanthas,
with news of this strange development. -oOo- The city of Lerantu is
able to muster just fifteen hundred soldiers in its
defence when seven hundred trolls launch their attack in the early
hours of
the morning. Although they fight bravely for more than an hour, the
defenders
are eventually overcome. As the terrified citizens of Lerantu flee
their city,
the trolls begin a savage rampage, destroying buildings and butchering
anyone
who stands in their way. Word reaches Tekuna that dozens of key
buildings have
been destroyed, including the Governor's residence and the RMA's
Trading
Office. But there is a glimmer of
hope in the news from Lerantu. The enigmatic monks
who inhabit the Monkhouse on the outskirts of the city, open the doors
of
their keep to the citizens of Lerantu for the first time in human
memory.
Thousands of the fleeing citizens seek refuge with the monks, and, for
no
clear reason, the trolls seem to leave the Monkhouse alone. -oOo- News from Meldora is
worse than the news from Lerantu. Of all the Ivrean
cities, the leaders of Meldora have paid the least heed to the Lords'
warnings of the coming invasion. A force of six hundred trolls meets
only
a feeble resistance as it marches into Meldora. As the trolls begin
their
destructive rampage, many of the stunned residents seek shelter in the
massive Church of Artafor. But on this night, Artafor's attention seems
to be elsewhere. Several groups of white trolls surround the ancient
building
and bring it crashing down on top of the hundreds of Meldorans
sheltering
inside. As news of this tragedy
ripples through the city, it has a strange effect
on the citizens. Instead of fleeing, they seem galvanized to fight back
against the invaders. Lead by the city's elite force of paladins, the
Meldorans turn on the trolls and ferocious battles develop throughout
the
city. As the fight for Meldora progresses, unexpected support comes in
the form of a dozen or more ghostly figures who move unhindered amongst
the
trolls. These strange beings seem capable of simply snuffing out the
life
force of each troll they touch. Some witnesses claim that the figures
resemble the deceased High Priests of times long passed, who lie buried
in the crypts beneath the collapsed Church of Artafor. -oOo-
In the once great elven
city of Miris, now abandoned, a small force of
trolls explores warily. From out of the murky sky, a large creature
swoops. Before the trolls can react, one of their number is plucked
from the ground by the beast. The green troll leader growls in
displeasure. -oOo-
In his Apothecary, Artak
and his team have been working feverishly for
several hours. Pages of notes lie strewn across a workbench, and the
remaining parts of their latest troll still twitch beneath the straps
of the chamber's rack. Fenishia Grink, Artak's half-elven assistant,
recognises the intense expression on the herbalist's face, and knows
that he is on the verge of a break-through. "Natural compound...
tissue structure...," murmurs Artak, "...pass me
the graph with the Aldust tissue damage. Thanks. Hmmmmmm.... look at
this." He points at the chart. Artak is comparing the
damage done to the troll by a chemical solvent
to the damage done by the Aldust solution, a solvent made using a
naturally occuring herb. Fenishia is quick to grasp the connection.
"Organics?" she suggests. Artak nods. "Get me a block of wood and a
carving knife, Deppin. No, no, wait... just find a sharp stick." A short while later,
Artak holds a crudely sharpened stick above a
a fresh troll. On the opposite side of the troll, Fenishia brandishes
a metal dirk. Both of them make deep incisions in the troll's torso,
while young Deppin smothers the creature's howls. They stand back and
watch the cuts closely. After a few seconds, the cut made by Fenishia
begins to heal, muscle fibres and skin knitting together to close the
wound. The cut made by Artak, however, remains open, oozing body fluids. Artak's face displays a
slightly eerie grin. "I think we'd better tell
the others about this." -oOo- Shortly before dawn, four
hundred trolls attack Penrith, home to the
resistance movement on the northern island known to Ivreans as the
Empire. The resistance movement is well prepared and strikes back
swiftly and effectively. Within minutes the green trollish leaders
lie dead or incapacitated, and the other trolls swarm in disarray.
Athalar smiles at Manto, pleased with the outcome of the battle. -oOo- As the sky grows lighter
over the eastern ocean, a small group of trolls -- perhaps two hundred
-- attacks the city of Pirs. Although
Pirs is the smallest of the Ivrean cities and lacks city walls, it is
still well defended. The Trader's Fold and the Brotherhood of Brador
have prepared well for the coming trolls. Large nets and ropes have
been slung across key points in the city, and the trolls are attacked
from all sides as they move through the city. The people of Pirs are
aided by the members of the Pirsian College of Wizardry, lead by its
Chancellor, Tervor Sunston. The battle for Pirs is
fierce, and the casualties are high. One of the
College's senior lecturers -- Adara Sea'Calin -- is greviously wounded
early on during the battle, but at the last moment, an unknown wizard
appears out of nowhere and teleports her to safety. -oOo- In the mountain town of
New Ivrea, Harmony Sweetsong has finally managed
to snatch a couple of hours of sleep after a night spent tracking news
of
the battles. Thanks to the efforts of the halflings' signal fires, word
of
the trollish invasion has spread rapidly across the Ivrean region. On a
wall
near Harmony's bench is a large map of the surrounding lands,
stretching from
the elven forests all the way to the coast. The map shows all major
trade
routes, towns and cities. Five of the cities -- Simipia, Rotan,
Lerantu, Meldora and Pirs are marked with ominous red dots, two more
than when
Harmony dozed off. "See that you're awake,"
says Urvin, his black eyebrows furrowed, "here,
have some tea." Harmony takes a deep swallow of the hot liquid,
grimacing
at the strength. A few minutes later,
after berating Urvin for not sleeping, Harmony is on
her way to the silos. Glancing at the sky, she realises that dawn is
less
than an hour away. -oOo-
General Panagiotis is a
military man; a man of action. He has not enjoyed
the long night of inactivity. The members of the Dragonwatch Guard --
the
city's elite fighting force -- have remained alert and ready to respond
at the first sign of any trolls. All night long the pyres on each
street
corner have been tended and stoked with logs. The reports Panagiotis
has
received through his Message Tube during the night have been
fragmented,
confusing and of little comfort. Secretly, a part of him wishes that
the
trolls would just get on with it and attack Outreach City -- surely a
good
battle would be far better that this intolerable wait! But, at least
for
now, Outreach remains untouched by the trollish invaders. -oOo-
The last year has not
been kind to the northern region. First wracked by
destruction, famine and disease, Feroll had then hovered on the brink
of
civil war. Following the intervention of the Lords of Rotan, and the
death of the charismatic Jarron Tilessen, this threat had been averted,
but the city of Feroll was left with little time to prepare for the
onslaught of the trolls. However, what Feroll
lacks in preparation time, it makes up for in
numbers. Swollen by the ranks of Jarron's many followers, more than a
thousand soldiers stand behind King Loren when the trolls attack Feroll
shortly after dawn. Roleen Cassandra reports than the trolls attacking
the city number less than two hundred -- the smallest force yet
reported
in Ivrea. Although the trolls manage to breach the Feroll city walls in
two places, it is quickly clear that they do not have sufficient
numbers
to take the city, and the city's defenders steadily drive them back. -oOo- All across Ivrea, the war against the trolls rages on... |