Race Wars (forum game)

[shantedracule]

The lich looked through his scrying glass and saw the bodies layed in there graves. He slowly took the vial of myst and handed it to his imp. "Spread this across the Ork-lands, Mizzitf."
As the imp flew over the fields and crags he spreaded the mist. Every corpse the mist touched rose and shambled after the living. so begins the night of the orcish dead.

Orcs: -1
Undead:+1

Human: 23
Elves: 24
Barbarians: 23
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 29
Undead: 30
Halflings: 26
Giants: 25
Orks: 16
Drow (evil elves): 26

[rdanhenry]

I will participate just once, because I can't resist posting this.

In the moonlight, mail shimmered like a cold dead fish on things that had once been men. Unholy green light glowed in the eye sockets of an army of wights approaching the human seaport of Fishman's Landing. Soulless malice gleamed in their eyes. Deadly moonlight scattered from their weapons. An unnatural hunger in their damned spirits drove them toward their prey.

Then they became aware of another army moving through the night. A filthy, stinking, grunting army of war-hard fighters. Skulls and banners were carried, showing the signs of the Band of the Red Hand. This army, too, crawled towards Fishman's Landing. The undead horde changed their heading to intercept this new group. No longer did they seek out human victims, they preferred to accept this new menu item, Orc, the Other Wight Meat.

Orcs: -1
Undead:+1

Human: 23
Elves: 24
Barbarians: 23
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 29
Undead: 31
Halflings: 26
Giants: 25
Orks: 15
Drow (evil elves): 26

[Imahilus]

The orc grunted in agreement, to which the shaman proceeded and took out a knife and a human skull. Making an incision in the orcs right shoulder, the shaman knocked off the back of the cranium and inserted the remainder of the skull in the shoulder, sowing it back up afterwards. Dazhrag "the grinning" CorpseMangler had his new gruesome shoulderguard. He yelled at the deckhands to make haste. Up the sails!, grab yer axes! We be landin soon, n' wez haz lots o man to kill, maim, raze and pillage!

The crude ship with oversized proportions for everything was covered with gruesome momentos, skins being used to repair the sails, bones to repair the wood and many skull and flesh totems lining the sides. It slid onto the beach near Fishmans Landing. Crew! Ready yer axes, cleavers and bloodlust. Theze huumies not be like normalz huumies, thezez not give up when lotz be deadz, theze be deadz allready, die n' I willz killz youz again n take yer stuff! DEATH OR GLORY! he shouted, before running into the mob of undead wielding his two crude flails, ripping a limb or head a strike from the wights in a gory frenzy.

Orcs +1
Undead -1

Human: 23
Elves: 24
Barbarians: 23
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 29
Undead: 30
Halflings: 26
Giants: 25
Orks: 16
Drow (evil elves): 26

[Notsonoble]

Elves +1
Dragons +/-0
Undead -1
"Well, Small One? What do you think?" Martilhanis asked the sorceress.

"I think your right. The young are ready, and the elves are itching for a chance to get back some of their own." And so am I. Sharlissa managed not to add aloud.

"And your are pleased with the new findings in the spell books Karzoxia had horded."

"Oh yes, quite pleased, especially with some of the older tomes."

"Good, and the other thing?"

"I know you don't like it, but you said yourself that its natural... and at least the elves are as fond of Estihlass as she is of them." Estihlass was the smallest, and one could saw weakest of Karzoxia's clutch, but what she lacked in fighting and flying skill she made up in a truly powerful tie to the energies that dragons and elves used in magic. She was also the fastest shapechanger of the clutch, and extremely fond of a handful of the elves... to the point of spending more time as an elf than in her natural form. It was quite likely, if she survived, she'd hide herself in elven society. It was an open secret that more often than not "elven" sorcerers of the mountain ranges were dragons or their direct decedents.

"Then lets do this now. Tell the elves to begin marching. I will take the young out in time to swing around and strike the village from behind." Martilhanis said, and moved towards the larger cavern in the network of caves that was once the layer of Karzoxia.

A few hours later, a group of 20 elves, and one very prepared sorceress began a raid on what was once the largest village in Marlinlar's mountain holdings. Spells and arrows and maces began smashing, and burning undead. Five minutes later, the elves and sorceress fled into the hills, and used powerful cloaking spells to hide themselves from the few followers. Ten minutes later, Martilhanis, and the 9 children of Karzoxia the Red, swooped down from the hills and leveled ever structure, and walking dead in sight. Then landed, shapechanged, and moved into the hills once again with their own innate spells to finish burning and dissolving the stranglers while searching out their allies.

Human: 23
Elves: 25
Barbarians: 23
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 29
Undead: 29
Halflings: 26
Giants: 25
Orks: 16
Drow (evil elves): 26

[Steel General]

Barbarians: +1
Giants: -1

I got a little long-winded with this one...

The water splashing onto his face woke Ghaath, then the pain kicked in. An agonizing, and burning sensation in both his face and lower extremities.

"In pain are you?", asked a voice so sharp you could almost feel the cuts on your skin.

"What do you think?", Ghaath gasped in reply. trying unsuccessfully to remove his legs from beneath the rubble. "You going to stand there looking stupid, help me out, or leave me to rot. Whichever it is get on with it!"

"Tsk, tsk...that's no way to talk to the one who hold your life in their hands", the voice replied, "I can get you out but then you have to do something for me."

"Such as?" Ghaath hissed.

"Oh, answer a few questions and do me a favor or two." replied the voice.

"Fine, just speed it up will you!", again Ghaath hissed in pain.

"Very well, first question...If I get you out will you agree to do the things I request of you without questioning them?" asked the voice.

"Fine, whatever." Ghaath gasped.

"Second question," the voice continued. "Do you want retribution for those that put you in your current situation?"

"Damned right I do!, Ghaath blurted, "On the gods cursed giants, the orks, and anyone else who gets in my way!"

"Excellent!" A shadow now moved over Ghaath and he found himself looking up into the blade like face of a man in grey leathers. The most arresting feature however were the eyes, a flinty grey that held no life in them. "Now, let's get you out of there." Everything went black...

When Ghaath next opened his eyes he found the stranger seated across a small fire. "Ahh awake now are we?"

"Hmmm...sort of", Ghaath replied wiping his hand over his face. The various pain he had felt earlier was gone. He sat up and gave himself a quick once-over. "OK, I've answered your questions, now first tell me your name and second what are these favors you spoke of."

"My name? Oh I have many names, but I suppose Syn will do. As for the favors here's the first one, put this on." The stranger tossed a wrapped bundle to Ghaath.

The bundle held an aged helmet, quality steel with downward curving horns. The helm would cover his entire face except the for the eyes and a narrow strip down the center. As he slipped it down over his head Ghaath felt a surge of energy run through him, then everything
went red...

The next thing he remembered was slipping the helm off of his head, the red haze gradually clearing. He looked about him and the ground was strewn with the corpses of dozens of giants. Shaking his head to clear the remaining cobwebs, he muttered to himself, "Where are we and what in the seven hells happened?"

"You took your first steps in repaying me for saving you, and extracting vengeance on your enemies." The stranger, Syn answered from behind him.

Ghaath looked at the carnage around him, "I did this? There's no way I could fight all of these giants myself? Last thing I remember is putting on this damn helmet."

"I think you'll be surprised at what just what you might be capable of given the proper tools," Syn replied, "and this is just the beginning. Come along we have much to do."

Syn strolled away, Ghaath hesitated a moment then trotted off after him, the helmet tucked beneath his arm.

Human: 23
Elves: 25
Barbarians: 24
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 29
Undead: 29
Halflings: 26
Giants: 24
Orks: 16
Drow (evil elves): 26

[Imahilus]

After the undead horde marching towards Fishmans Landing was defeated, the orcish crew of Dazhrag noticed that the human village wasn't ravaged by them. The orcs couldn't contain their glee and started charging the village, making bets on who would disembowel someone first, or how far they could lop off the head. The town, lacking real soldiers, was slaughtered in under an hour, the houses pillaged and razed. Dark smoke rose from the village that day, continueing to glow with fires well into the night.
Dazhrag pondered, while the seas held many riches, he couldn't help but wonder what was happening in his homelands of the Dragon Craw mountains, beyond the Vale of Dead Men that he could see. It took him months to cross those three threacherous mountains. Snow White, The White Maiden and the Pale Lady. Cursed be their names.

Crew! Tonight we eatz well, next mornin we sail inland, there be lot more loot to be hadz frum deze runtish hoomins called halfkinz. They no put up much of a fight, they be short, but they be good hoarderz, means lots o loot.

One thing he failed to mention was that he intended to settle something in the vale of dead men.

Humans -1
Orcs +1

Human: 22
Elves: 25
Barbarians: 24
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 29
Undead: 29
Halflings: 26
Giants: 24
Orks: 17
Drow (evil elves): 26

[Karro]

As Martilhanis returned to the hidden lair in the Weathered Peaks, she was surprised to notice a strange sight far below: a contingent of humans making their way through the pass heading toward the secret mountain elven city. Curious, she gazed closer with her dragon sight, and saw that they carried banners of truce.

She sent the young wymrlings back to the lair with instructions to remain hidden, and landed not far from the human group, reverting to her elvish form.

As she approached, the humans called out, their scouts having noted her advance, and declard that they were seeking an alliance with the elves of the mountains in a war against the undead scourge. Martilhanis paused before answering their hail. Could this be yet another ally that she could use to avenger her family? She mused the possibilities.

She stepped out in full view of the human party, magically enhancing her natural draconic aura, visible even in her elvish form, to show forth her power.

"You shall have your treaty, if you first prove of use to us. You must do this one thing for me..."

The leader of the human ambassadors stepped forth. "My lady, in this hour of our need, we will do whatever is necessary to help maintain the safety of our kingdom. Our mission is to bring aid to Aslanica, at all costs."

Martilhanis smiled.

South of here, in the Dragon Craw mountains, in a cavern lair under a mountain known as The White Lady, there lies entombed, surrounded by powerful dark magics, a relic dedicated to the God Palan, Giver of Life. Retrieve for me this relic, and you will have proved yourselves to the Mountain Elves, and earned our allegiance."

The human party departed at once...

...Martilhanis gazed toward the east. She could still feel them, tugging at her mind, even in their current state... and she knew they would feel her again, as well, as soon as she let the defenses she had placed on her mind down...

Dragons: +1
Humans: -1

(I tried to find some way around this being a +1 for dragons, but couldn't find it... I just wanted to set certain wheels in motion... I'll be out until after T-day...)

Human: 21
Elves: 25
Barbarians: 24
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 30
Undead: 29
Halflings: 26
Giants: 24
Orks: 17
Drow (evil elves): 26

[Gamerprinter]

Tsabrak stared intently through the abyssoscope, filtering the different miasmal layers wafting deep within the Endless Fall, an enormous pit of indeterminant depth, roughly 50 miles in diameter whose cap begins at the 930' depth mark. Mists of varying consistency and color issue from the great depths. Only strange bat-like creatures, a kind of miasmal flying insect and the large manta-like "umbragog" as he named it flying through this great lesion beneath the ground. With the adjustment of a dial on the abyssoscope, bringing it into focus, Tsabrak found what he was searching for.

The rising mass of gloomfolk, undead beings who dwell far down the Endless Fall, where the mists are too toxic for even the miasmal flying creatures. One must always be wary of the gloomfolk. Usually they come up from the Endless Fall in ones and twos, which most of the time are easily dispatched. For some unknown reason, however, the gloomfolk build up in numbers (?) and every few months or so they begin to swarm and perform massive attacks.

Tsabrak is a leading alchemist among the Drow, and with the pit's discovery has since constructed a tower on the lip of this Wound Beneath; the great pit. Collecting, filtering and condensing the various exotic gases emanating from the great depths for use in a huge variety of arcane formulae. Some of these gases, in their concentrated form are extremely volatile and inflammable. Such a waste to use them for such martial purposes, but to no avail, little else could be done at this point.

Using the abyssoscope as a targetting scope, he lined the mechanical arm from its position on the lip tower directly over the lead center of the oncoming mass of undead interlopers. A sphere of glass containing novarean gas dropped from the grasping metallic hand into the depths for a full 22 seconds before striking the inward tilting pit wall beneath the Drow's tower. The explosion and cascade of sun bright light struck the pit's capstone. Tsabrak knew better than to not protect his eyes from the blast.

The abyssoscope showed the dozen or so remaining barely hanging onto the cliffside, some dropping still. Such a waste of novarean gas, still effective. And now to harvesting the lost novarean gas once again over the next fortnight, hopefully before the gloomfolk decide to creep in numbers once again.

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

Human: 21
Elves: 25
Barbarians: 24
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 30
Undead: 28
Halflings: 26
Giants: 24
Orks: 17
Drow (evil elves): 27

[Coyotemax]

Sometimes I think I'm the only ork with a real imagination, thought Bonesnapper to himself. He glanced behind himself at the warband he now led, named by his lieutenenat Korg as "Bonesnapper's Bonesnapperz". Still, it gave him more of a measure of control over the wilder ones. It helped that they hadn't lost a single member in the last 2 weeks, despite constant raids on elf encampments and disrupting supply lines. It also helped that the warband consisted entirely of veterans, and they were becoming a very tightly knit group.

They were far from the elven lands at the moment, but one of the scouts had brought back news that made this a worthy detour. "Boss, dem barbarians caughts somting big. Tooks it back to dere place in da hills. I tink deybe poking it wif sticks ta make it mad" Bonesnapper got some more details out of the scout before turning the warband north. Oh yes, this would be worth it.

The orks surrounded the village silently, and remained in hiding while Bonesnapper strode boldly to the huge lodge. Throwing the skins on the doorway aside, he walked in and surveyed the scene while he waited to be noticed. There were maybe 20 barbarian warriors in here, ringed around a set of firepits, and in the center was a huge figure bound with rope. As the men started noticing the ork standing in their midst, silence fell. Bonesnapper grinned and unbuckled his weapons belt, letting it and his shield drop to the ground, then took a step forward. "Who thinks they can take me?"

One of the barbarians stepped forward. Bonesnapper looked around, confirmed all eyes were on the two of them, and let out an earsplitting warcry. Immediately the thatched roof started to cave in, orks falling through and landing among the surprised men, and the attack was underway. In the middle of the confusion, Bonesnapper walked up to the huge figure tied to the post. "Here, let me cut you free. Any enemy of the humans and elves is a friend of ours."

The 8 eyes opened and blinked, and Bonesnapper stopped in his tracks. "I had no need of your help, I had the situation well in hand." The giant flexed his 3 pairs of arms and the ropes fell off. "These pansies can't even tie a proper knot. Now, tell me why I shouldn't smash you instead"

Bonesnapper bowed and said "I understand your race has been hunted to the edge of extinction by the elves. My warband has a bone to pick with them. If we work together, we can accomplish far more than either of us alone."

The octoclops considered, and stuck out his hand for the ork to shake.

"You can call me Barry. As far as I know, I am the last of my race. Let's go, we have work to do. Looks like your boys have finished these pansies off, let's give them a real challenge."


Orks: +1
Barbarians: -1
Octoclops: 0

Human: 21
Elves: 25
Barbarians: 23
Dwarves: 28
Dragons: 30
Undead: 28
Halflings: 26
Giants: 24
Orks: 18
Drow: 27
Octoclops:0

(heheh)

[Ascension]

Heh heh Barry