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[D&D 4E - IC] zephyr : "[Game Activity Related Tagline Here]"
(Pretend there's a really cool introductory world framing piece here, because well... I couldn't think of one. )
Harmattan, Konstogar Merkaban Invasion, Day Zero
The crisp mountain air carried sound well. Every scream from a civilian's last breath. Every clang of metal against metal. The explosions, you could hear it all. Your city has become an amphitheater of death and destruction, and you were part of the band.
"Brottor! Fall back, NOW!" The captain of the guard orders you towards Gate Chamber. The armies have done what they could. But they simply kept coming. Falling from the sky, black knights. Dust and smoke made it hard to see them, but they were only several feet away. The last of the civilians rush towards your position. The town was lost. A lump of soggy flesh flies into a building beside you. You recognize his face through its pained expression.
"We can't hold them any longer!" A voice cries out. When the Guard realized it was fruitless to try and shoot them out of the sky, they turned the cannons to the ground. Where conventional weapons and tactics failed, magic and gunpowder prevailed.
"Do it!" Another voice calls out from the melee. When that line fell, they would rush into the gate chamber, straight to Gainsfield. If the Highborne weren't too keen on your kind suddenly coming to visit, no doubt they would less than happy to see these guys. The flare is in your hand. All you had to do was throw it.
Halny Island, Cornales - Town Square Merkaban-Highborne War, Day 13
Maybe it was the fires but the town felt weird, dreamy. Standing in the town square the shop fronts glowed orange, the glass fronts exploding from the heat of the flames. Hard to believe a few days ago children were running around this square, old people were feeding birds. Now it was the front of the Merkaban invasion forces.
Reports were made about the Merkabans having Wondrous warriors, beasts of unimaginable power. The few troops and civilians who made it out of Lancet, Gainsfield and other places alive swore to this. But the only thing here were Lowborne regulars. They fought hard for every inch of the town, but there was no question as to the outcome of this fight.
But the Merkabans kept coming. Just ahead, you could make out the outlines of another group of them.
Ewan Stark Sheet.
Zephyr Armada, First Fleet - Dancing Lightning Merkaban-Highborne War, Retribution Day
"...and we will wipe their accursed city off the map. The Merkabans will be made into an example, so that all Lowborne will know that we Highborne, united, are a force to be reckoned with. Today is the day of our Retribution!"
The united grunt of approval within the Dancing Lightning echoes loudly into your head. In the distance, you can hear the same roar coming from all the other warships. This was the largest operation in the history of Zephyr. You hoped you would get back from it. A lot of people died the past few months, many of them your friends. As a scout, you've been among the first to land on islands that the Merkaban attacked.
The Merkabans went from being an "ignorable threat to The Lands Above" to simultaneously pulling off a coordinated assault against the Highborne on the scale of well, this attack. They managed to keep the push going for months, but then they faltered. Even their Wondrous soldiers had their limits. Overstretched and under supplied, the Merkaban assault was doomed to failure. Now it was time to teach them a lesson, one for the history books.
Beneath you, the blue oceans drifted by. The sun was setting on a beautiful day. Massive waves slammed into the Wondrous walls that protected the port city of Merkaba. Those walls wouldn't do much against cannons. Beside you, your fellow scouts sat, waiting eagerly for the coming battle. Your group would be tasked with taking out Merkaban AA installations, so that the others could come.
"Man, I can't wait to see that thing in action." One of the scouts says, and nods out of the open bay.
Acacia Island, Acacia - Mage's Guildhouse Merkaban-Highborne War, Retribution Day
"Kill the spy! Kill the spy! Justice for Lancet!"
"They haven't gotten any quieter." Wesley Rodith said. Through the window of the Guild master's office he could see a large crowd gathered. A group of soldiers stood nervously between the mob and its prey.
The guest of honor lay crumpled in the corner of the room. A Merkaban spy, a former friend, the man whose name you would never speak again. He was in your classes, you trained with him. Ie was suspected for some time and a few days ago when he finally slipped up, they got him. He wasn't in the best of shape, having been worked over by a number of individuals who would go unpunished.
"Lothril." The guild master calls your name, snapping you back to attention. "I know that you've felt frustrated over our decision to not allow you to fight along with the Knights, but understand that it was for the best. There is a task that I have for you now, that I feel I could trust you with."
You had a feeling where this was going.
Alabaster Citadel, Refugee Area - The Broken Wing Post Merkaban-Highborne War, Tuesday
"Keegan... no, Nightbird." the man's voice carries across the room as he lays there, staring at you. He is known only as Maestro.
The room you are in matches his pretentious name. At the center, across from where you're standing is a large brazier. Thick smoke billows out of it, a feminine form dancing rather seductively. Its hair flows wildly as she thrusts and pivots, vanishing into vents on the ceiling. Maybe at one time he was a legitimate mage from a respected guild. If he was, he definitely wouldn't have the two guards at the door, their eyes boring white hot into your back.
"You know those rumours, that the Lady ain't here. They're true. The Alabaster Citadel? Home to a goddess? What a lie. A lot of good people died the past few days... yet men like us, we're alive and well... if gods do exist, they have a funny sense of humor."
He makes a gesture, and the dancer turns to face you.
"I got a job for you, Nightbird. One my regulars can't handle. It's right up your alley... one for the history books."
He smiles as the smoky form of the dancer beckons you closer.