Thread: Portal - The Inquisition of Eastborne

Ranks upon ranks of the Empire's relentless soldiers began to surge into the fringes of Eastborne's streets. The militia that had sworn to protect and hold the city were being driven back further into it's heart with every passing moment. The harsh judgement of the Empire of Merasheel was coming, and everyone in the besieged coastal settlement knew it by this point. But they fought on where retreat wasn't an option due to the raging fires that were threatening to burn portions of the city down to its very foundations. A mother cradled her dead son against her soot and ash stained body, a soldier of a very young age forced into service. She was so completely lost in the depths of her mourning as the battle surged around her that she didn't take one note of the horned woman that rushed by her to join the clashing of steel. Cries of impending doom mirrored those mother's mournful wails as Kestrel sped past her and joined the ranks of the militia that were making a stand at a trio of crossroads. We're bloody screwed! Why don't we just surrender! One of the novice looking soldiers with a panic stricken face cried out as he hid behind a toppled over wagon that was pouring up a cloud of vulgar acrid smoke into the air around them. It smoldered from the remnants of the alchemical goo that had splattered against it. The others did their best to ignore the vocal show of cowardice from their comrade as crossbows took aim and returned fire towards the advancing flanks of the Imperial soldiers. The apparent captain of this small squad, a man with a weather worn face that was full of steadfast determination would have none of it though and the solid back hand of his fist promptly ended the whimpering complaints. The commanders eyes flickered over to Kestrel as she joined their ranks and despite a glance at her horned visage he barely seemed pulsed by it. He just simply dipped his head towards her with a dim glow of appreciation reflected within his eyes before he turned his gaze back out towards the ranks descending upon them. Charge! Was the only word that could come to mind in that moment and as the order was barked out the soldiers of Eastborne broke out of their defensive formation and rushed forward to meet the Empires soldiers head on. ----------------------- Even down in the secured cellar where Johnathan and his friends had taken refuge the sound of the raging battle above was impossible to ignore. The faint traces of smoke could be smelled filtering into the cellars stale air. Dust would fall and the floorboards over head shook on occasion when a loud blast of an explosive nature rattled the building they had taken shelter in. Above it all though were the muted cries desperation and shouts of battle from the people of Eastborne. Thomas, who had always been something of a hot head wiped his hand across his face with an exasperated look of pain etched across his features. This ain't right! His gaze looked towards the secured doorway above them. There's not gonna be anyone fucking rebellion if everyone's dead! The others just stared at him with dumbfounded shocked expressions as he stood up and grabbed a the short blade and wooden shield he had brought with him. I ain't dying in this fucking cellar like some coward! With those words spoken, Thomas took one annoyed glance towards the others. Stay here if you want, but I'm gonna do my bloody part and kill me at least two of those fucking Empire bastards before they take my life! He spat out as his jaw clenched before turning and making his way into the tunnel they had painstakingly dug out into the sewers. Thomas! Thomas, wait! His girlfriend Jill, a petite little blonde haired girl barely above eighteen years of age cried out in protest, but Thom wouldn't be persuaded as he vanished from sight into the dank smell of the sewer system. The remaining young men looked towards Johnathan, seeking his guidance while the other girls, Samantha and Heather tried to console Jill's despair at seeing her man head off towards what she only could see as certain death. ----------------------- Emily scowled deeply as she turned away from the imprisoning bars of the cell she shared with Brigid and simply let the cast iron pan fall from her hand to rattle upon the floor. Her lips trembled and tears began to puddle from her eyes and swept down her cheeks in streaks. Damn, damn it all. She mumbled and muttered as her fingers clenched across the bars. Don'cha know some kinda spell, some witch crafty shit to get us outta here! Her watery eyes turned to regard her cellmate whom she was sure was a witch of some sort. The guards had said so, after all. I don't know much, Bridge, but I do know we donna want the Empire to find us in here! She stamped her foot on the cobbled floor repeatedly. Don'cha know wha they do to prisoners?! She looked at her frantically. It's straight through the Portal for us if they catch us in here! Her frantic eyes turned back out towards the realm beyond their seemingly inescapable fate and her screamed out pleas for help rose anew. Someone! Help! Get us the fuck outta here! As if in prophetic answer to the herbalists wishful thinking's the entire building shuddered around them. The cries from the soldiers overhead were drowned out by the rumble of shattering and falling rock, as the prison cell the pair shared happened to be situated in the basement of one of Eastbornes trio of fortified corner battlements. Another of the juggernaut's of adamantium had arrived at its base and it had gained considerable steam as it rolled on its massive crushing pinwheels of doom towards it's target. It literally blasted the walls to smithereens with the force of its ram like head. As the building was shook to it's very core and dust and brick fell down around them both, a size able chunk of stone clonked right off the top of Emily's head. She dropped to the floor with a surprised yelp and her skull bounced off the floor with a thud as she went completely limp. Another rumble of busting stone filled the air and shook the room as a small puddle of crimson blood began to form under Em's head and stained the stone it rested upon. There was a sound of grating metal as the tower's structure was folding in on itself, and the bars to the prison groaned and shifted. At a glance, Bridgette thought a pair of them had been bent just enough so that her thin body could squeeze through and escape. ----------------------- The mountain of red muscle barreled through the streets as they burned around him and sent waves of smoke through the air. Scattered amounts of citizens were passed, some caught in rubble, others wounded and unable to get far quickly on their own or trying to assist those in need. A woman in the customary robes of Oprinicus was passed, her white garments and the thin silken veil covering her face were smeared with ash and soaked with patches of blood as she saw to the last moments of soldier whose body had been burned beyond any hope for salvation. The screaming cries of nearby battle drew Hrothgar's fury filled attentions away from the casualties and calamities left in the wake of Eastborne's bombardment of flame and battle. Long loping strides of the beastly half orc that were accustomed to navigating both the brambles of the forest and the shifting terrain of the mountains carried him with swift ease through the rubble strewn street towards the sound of blood waiting to be spilled. Rounding the corner in full stride the sight of the Imperial soldiers charging forward towards a mass of dozens of Eastborne's own greeted him. Kestrel, out of the corner of her eye couldn't help but notice the looming presence that was just joining their ranks from their blind side. The cries of battle filled the air as the opposing forces crashed into each others ranks. Spears and swords rang out as they crossed paths. Gut wrenching gurgled screams and curses bellowed out as blades found their mark, or spears sunk into flesh. It quickly became obvious that more ranks of the Empire were rounding the bend ahead form the direction of one of the breached walls. Dozens more could be seen hustling to reinforce their position and push their way further into the city. Scattered among their numbers, towards the rear and moving forward with impunity were a trio of knights on fabulous horses of war. Lances that were wielded with precision were lowered in anticipation as the knights, clad in their unsoiled pristine metal armor and helms spurred their fearless mounts forward towards the enemy. The front most of which seemed deadly intent on making the mountain of a half orc his first priority. Last edited Feb 14, 2019