Race Wars (forum game)

[Notsonoble]

I'd meant to save this for later but Tear's post makes things interesting... and I fell like pushing things up.

Dragons +1
Orks -1

Elves +/-0 but appear...

<Have you found them child?> Bakhimeroth, the Lord of the Western Wyrms's voice prodded in the back of Martihanis's mind.

<Yes Great One, Karzoxia's eggs are here I shall bring them.>

<No, it is too late for that the horde marches faster than I expected... I've engaged them, but our brothers and sisters shells are here as well... I will not make it.>

<Great One I sha..>

<No! Listen. I am done. You are still unfocused. The hatchlings will need guidance. Send your mind to this one. *Image of Sharlisa* She awaits me, but can get to you safely. Watch them and prepare them for the horde, make an ally, then strike in unison.>

<But..>

<Do this! Or none of us will survive the horde!> with that Bakhimeroth's connection to Martihanis was lost.

The next few days went without incident, Sharlisa arrived on the third morning, in time to observe the hatchings. That afternoon, Sharlisa was sent to hunt game to bring to the four hatchlings. But her return was not what Martihanis expected.

"Where is the meat human? Why are you here unburdened."

"We must move they are-" The ceiling of the cave shook and sprayed rubble down on them.

Martilhanis charged passed the worthless woman and out of the cave. If the undead were here... it was over.

She took flight, and looked down to see not undead but a moderate sized party of elves running her direction and casting spells in their wake.

She looked the direction the elves were fleeing from and saw it... A large war party of Orks... no, a Warband... at least a few hundred strong... make an ally rang in her mind, and she knew what to do.

<Come out woman, we shall save these elves, and they will serve us, and the young will feast on ork flesh tonight!>, with that she dove towards the war party, and prepared to belch flame.

Human: 21
Elves: 24
Barbarians: 23
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 27
Undead: 29
Halflings: 26
Giants: 26
Orks: 19
Drow (evil elves): 27

[Ghostman]

Giants: +1
Orks: -1

Ymir was pleased with his work after the victory over the dwarves. He had set his people on the course toward better times. Yet, he was all too aware of the great dangers which loomed over the earthly world like a distant storm in the horizon. Not the least among these were the undead horde and the restless dragons.

Before the demigod would pass back into Jötunheim, he ascended the highest peak of the Silent Mountains with certain Bori, a mortal Giant who had become his right hand. On the windswept summit he bestowed upon this trusted liutenant an enchanted crown of never-melting ice, and with it the kingship over all Giant-kind. The coronation invoked such bellowing cheers among the gathered spectators that the very mountains shook from the noise. Content in the knowledge that Bori was exceptionally wise and cunning for his race, Ymir left the mortal world.

The newly crowned king of Giants wasted no time. He summoned the champions and warchiefs to a meeting, revealing his plans. The Giants were not yet ready to take on the true challenges ahead, they needed practice and funds. These would be best acquired by capitalising on those who posed the least danger. The target was obvious: the Orks were struggling, they were weakened by losses and had no allies to speak of. Quickly the Giants marched down from the mountains, striding fast with their long legs. Like an arctic blizzard they fell upon every orcish camp and village that lay within three days' march from the mountains. The wretched humanoids stood no chance against this lightning raid and fled in panic, scattered to the four directions like leaves to the wind. Having cleared their borders from orcish presense, the Giants returned to their homeland with plunder and slaves.


Human: 21
Elves: 24
Barbarians: 23
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 27
Undead: 29
Halflings: 26
Giants: 27
Orks: 18
Drow (evil elves): 27

[Steel General]

Elves +1
Orks -1

Galadrian Moonglow and her scouts kept a close watch on the borders of there forest homeland. Abundant rumors, some confirmed, spoke of conflict escalating between the various intelligent races. Giants clans coming down from the mountains, hordes of mindless undead destroying everything in there paths, great warbands of Orks rampaging everywhere. Thus far the Woods of Tylvaanra stood unmolested, but she wasn't foolish enough to believe that they would remain so far long.

Clouds gathered near the horizon on the nearby Dreldeth Steepes, the distant rumble of thunder just identifiable. Over the next hour or two the clouds and thunder grew, but something seemed 'off'. She sent a small group of her best riders out into the steppes to investigate. They returned shortly at full gallop shouting about large, scattered bands of Orks approaching. She quickly sent word back to her superiors and readied her command...

Ghorkut continued at the mile-eating pace he had been taught to use when on the run. The staggered pace kept exhaustion from coming on full force. He had done the best he could keeping his band together after the giants attacked. Keeping them moving hoping to find a safe place to rest and regather there strength. In the distance he could see the trees of a great forest. Knowing he could hide from the giants in the woods he led his band onward. Then the arrows began to fall...

Human: 21
Elves: 25
Barbarians: 23
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 27
Undead: 29
Halflings: 26
Giants: 27
Orks: 17
Drow (evil elves): 27

[Notsonoble]

Man the orks are getting hozed...

[Gamerprinter]

Just as the last of Orks were returning from the string of fiascos, Roarack the Younger, an up-in-coming ork from the Underdelvers, an elite group of skirmishers trained to fight the drow, and who had been down deep for over the last two months on scouting missions, have just returned to find his decimated tribes. Roarack gathered his loyal lieutenants. The plan was simple organize the remaining orks, slay the previous leaders who have proven themselves disasterously unskilled in fighting anyone, reorganize the tribe.

The fact that the main ork leaders failed to return from that last massacre only made things more easy. Altogether the Orks were drilled in the fighting techniques Roarack and his fellows were very familiar and very much more successful. Taking the a sidetrack from the main tunnel going to the Underdark, Roarack was aware of a tunnel leading to a lesser used Dwarven mine.

With a ploy to attack a smaller group of opponents, gain a victory and reinvigorate the morale of the flailing ork band, with hopes to bring the tribe back to its former glory. In a lightening raid Roarack led the skirmishes onto the lowest level miners of Ardin's Hold, Roarack and the remaining orks got their long awaited victory. Things are going to change demanded the new Ork Chieften.

Dwarves: -1
Orks: +1

Human: 21
Elves: 25
Barbarians: 23
Dwarves: 27
Dragons: 27
Undead: 29
Halflings: 26
Giants: 27
Orks: 18
Drow (evil elves): 27

[Imahilus]

Seeing his brethren foolishly march on the giants and being slain, and hearing of the miners being overwhelmed by the orks, Duragai Stonebreaker vowed as the new steward of the hold to set right these affairs. The giants cannot be subdued by force of arm in melee, and cannot be dealt with if the supply chain is endangered. Assembling a group of veterans that have grown battle weary, he tasked them with drinking a keg of ale each. In their drunken haze he drilled them for five days straight, little of their minds remained but their hatred from seeing their fellow dwarves being slaughtered in battle. Their bottled up rage was released, and he led that very group down into the mines. These dwarves would be known as the Orc Slayers, mad dwarves fearing nothing and welcoming death in a haze of rage and steel. The orcs were ultimately pushed back, leaving a trail of mangled and brutalised corpses in their retreat. In a testimony to his resolve, Duragai abandoned his armour near the entrance that the orcs used, putting it up on a pike over the corpse of one of the bigger orcs. He would risk no other dwarven life without risking his own.

dwarves +1
orcs -1

Human: 21
Elves: 25
Barbarians: 23
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 27
Undead: 29
Halflings: 26
Giants: 27
Orks: 17
Drow (evil elves): 27

[Gamerprinter]

Brunhild had kept herself hidden under the heavy boughs of sentinel pine, just above the giant's cave. Despite her fiery red hair and the ornate knotwork patterns tattooing her slightly freckled skin which both arroused and exasperated the warriors of the mead hall at her clan home, she was nearly invisible in her stillness. The ash hafted spear vibrated in her tightly quenched grasp. Though she sat silent for more than an hour now, she hadn't really noticed. In solace she waited for spirit within to awaken. It was there now, but like a glowing ember trying to catch fire.

It was almost a year to the day, when Brunhild told her father that she was not following the path of the Spirit Walker, as her fore mothers had always done. She had killed a man on that day. One of those soft town dwellers up in the mountains on some quest. He chose was trying to "quest" her, so she laid him low. Though already showed the talent in the shaman way, a death at her hands meant the taint would never bind her close enough to the spirit world. She could only become a shield maiden, a warrior woman of the clan - the first in three generations, or so the old bard sings.

A curse though may that have been, Brunhild made her own choices, and today her choice was revenge for the loss of her family, so many years ago. Today, like many in the past was to help them pay their debt to her. As the hill giant evening guard was taking his post, just as he was seating himself on the Watch Boulder below, Brunhild was already in freefall above him with her iron spearpoint aiming just inside his collar bone to graze the left side of his skull skull - straight through the heart and vitals below it; a killing blow at this angle.

In sudden surprise the hill giant died nearly instantly. Not waiting for its brethren to discover him, the barbarian girl loped off toward the next hill giant den...

Barbarians: +1
Giants: -1

Human: 21
Elves: 25
Barbarians: 24
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 27
Undead: 29
Halflings: 26
Giants: 26
Orks: 17
Drow (evil elves): 27

[AslanC]

When the Kingdom of Aslanica decided to expand their territory in the fertile Knobbly Hills, they expected little resistance from the rotund and lazy Halflings who lived there. The King even jested with his generals that perhaps the Halfings would make excellent Serfs.

Having failed to learn the lessons of the Orcs, the Humans arrived in late summer, expecting a short campaign.

Hell hath no fury like that which is 3 feet tall!

By the time winter set in the King and his army were cut off, under equipped and starving.

By the following spring, young Price... I mean King Osric was present in Bumbledown Hall for the singing of a treaty that generously benefited the Halflings.

The feast that night was legendary.


Humans: -1
Halflings: +1

Human: 20
Elves: 25
Barbarians: 24
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 27
Undead: 29
Halflings: 27
Giants: 26
Orks: 17
Drow (evil elves): 27

[Ghostman]

Liannath, the eldest daughter of High Priestess Glea, had fallen in disfavour with her mother and the Twilight Godesses. She had fumbled up her initiation ceremony, thus bringing shame upon her bloodline. This failure was not her own fault, but caused - she was certain - by sabotage of her jealous younger sister. This however was irrelevant, for the Drow and their bitter deities cared not for who was in the right; only success mattered. Now she had no choise but to take upon an endeavour of high risk, in order to make amends to her clan. Success would ease her station somewhat. Failure - well, in all likelyhood she would not be returning alive.

These matters haunted her mind as she squatted by the entrance to the vaunted Obsidian Cave, a group of Drow warriors skulking in the shadows all around her. The name of that cave had not been uttered outside of a curse from Drow lips for more than a millennium. It was the lair of Rho Qom, a Dragon more ancient than even elven memory could recall. It was said that Rho Qom had undergone a strange and hideous transformation, becoming in body like the obsidian that decorated his cave. This was speculated to grant him immortality.

Liannath forced such thoughts out of her mind. She had to disbelieve the legends and lead her band of warriors to victory. Failure was not an option. The Drow had come to reclaim their long-lost relic, the Twisted Scarab amulet, which had been taken by Rho Qom many generations ago. The Dragon would not give it up without a fight, of that she could be sure. Of corse, it would be ideal to catch the great lizard in slumber and put it down swiftly with the art of assassination that Drow had honed and mastered. Finally Liannath gave the signal, and the Drow party began to silently advance into the cave, under the cover of her obscuring spell.

When they arrived in Rho Qom's lair, they found it vacant, though the Dragon's hoard lay before them, a massive heap of purest gold and lustrious jewels. The Twisted Scarab amulet glittered on top of the pile. That moment a true terror crept into Liannath's heart; she knew that this was all too easy. She knew she was being played a fool. A great bellowing roar suddenly sounded through the obsidian-encrusted tunnels and a tremor shook the cave, collapsing the route through which the Drow had entered. They would have no choise but to flee to the tunnel on the opposite side of the chamber, and try to find their way out through the labyrinthine web of tunnels.

Another roar was heard, this time resembling sinister laughter. Liannath trembled at the sound. She knew that the cruel game of cat and mouse had just begun - and she was not the cat.

Drow (evil elves): -1
Dragons: +1


Human: 20
Elves: 25
Barbarians: 24
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 28
Undead: 29
Halflings: 27
Giants: 26
Orks: 17
Drow (evil elves): 26

[Steel General]

Giants: +1
Barbarians: -1

If the rumors were to be believed, the Ork hordes of the Stormfangs had largely been destroyed by a combination of bad luck and ill-timed/ill-planned attacks. Ghaath cautiously crept to the top of the ridge overlooking the Ork settlement. He signaled to the rest of his clansmen to fan out along the length of the ridge and to prepare for a charge. Cautiously peering around the rock he hid behind he was surprised to see that the settlement looked deserted.

He signaled his men and they advanced cautiously down among the houses, it was deathly quiet. Too quiet for Ghaath's liking. Just as he was about to signal his men to abandon the settlement a great rumbling began from the surrounding ridge lines. Ghaath's mouth dropped open as giant after giant began to appear along the ridges. Each carried boulders of various sizes. "It's a trap!", he bellowed, "Run!".

Then the boulders began to fly...

Human: 20
Elves: 25
Barbarians: 23
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 28
Undead: 29
Halflings: 27
Giants: 27
Orks: 17
Drow (evil elves): 26