Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5824038-20150203191459/@comment-5583506-20150210191307

Emperor Maximus wrote: (Just a note - Mournhold and Solitude aren't part of the Empire, they're part of Samarkand, which has a different governing body. I confess, I don't know where Senchal is, but you can look up the pages for The Empire (Age of Industry) and Samarkand to see their geography and which empire it fits in.) (Yeah, but he didn't mention anything about the Empire. He mentioned the major cities of Tamriel, which is the name of the continent.)

"Look, my good men!" exclaimed Maximilian as he saw how skyships were rising up from Brightwall. "The vermin can put up a fight!" he chuckled. "How delightful. And here I was thinking that this crusade of ours was going to be met with little resistance."

He snapped with his fingers. "Roll out the anti-aircrafts!"

As he commanded there was a terrible roaring sound coming from within the very hull of the monstrous ships. The bottom of each ship opened to reveal their innards. The contents were an armada of minor vessels, each the size of a regular airship, loaded with cannons, firepower and the very fanaticism of the Council of Nobles.

Maximilian lowered his eyebrows. "Deal with those would-be warriors, my good men, and then we will begin our siege of Brightwall by burning the slums to the ground and then cleanse the streets of this city with the very power of steel and fire!"

And as he spoke the vessels were launched from their hangar, joining up beside their motherships.

-

"This..." Victorius' eyes were quivering in fear as he watched the armada approach. "This is madness!"

Wraith didn't make a sound, but it was clear that the rebel didn't like the look of the fleet as well. "Maximilian never was man to settle things with words. He preferred to let the sword and the gun do the talking for him. But finally we have seen the true face of this nobleman this day. I will not let this stand!"

"How... how can we possibly fight that?! Those ships... those motherships are enormous! It looks like they are in the very size of the city!"

"Perhaps because they are", replied Wraith. "In fact, I do believe that they could finish this altogether just by landing on the city. But that wouldn't do for a sound victory according to dear DeRaque. He wants to see men fall and die where they stand."

The rebel sighed. "Besides it is not the motherships that worries me. It's those minor vessels they have sent out. There is got to be hundreds of them! Each a weapon of mass destruction in its own. I fear that the outcome of this battle may indeed rest upon a scale of mere luck."

Victorius stared at the rebel leader and bit togehter hard. "You... you mean that we are defeated?!"

"No. But I don't like these odds. If we don't play our cards right Brightwall will fall tonight. The city has already sent out their armadas, but they are too unorganized. They will not last for long if an experienced commander such as lord DeRaque issues the attack order."

"So go there and help them!" shouted Victorius, clearly frustrated. "That's what you were meant to do, isn't it?! You said you were going to blast Maximilian from the skies! Well, there he is! Do your job, rebel!"

Wraith didn't seem to acknowledge the Imperial's sudden anger. "No matter what we do, this city will suffer losses. Not in hundreds, but in thousands... This... this will be a massacre..."

Suddenly a fist came sweeping in. Wraith didn't have the time to respond before Victorius knuckles smashed against the rebel's helmet, sending him to the ground with a dampened groan.

"Vic-Victorius?!" mumbled the rebel shocked. "What... what did you do?!"

"Trying to talk some sense into you, damnit! You said that the army of this city will not last for long! They weren't prepared for this fight! But you were! You knew that Maximilian would come! You have an army! Use it! Fight him! Blast him down from the skies as you promised you would! But don't you dare hesitate to withdraw! Yes, it's going to be a massacre! But a massacre it will be nonetheless whether you withdraw or not!"

Wraith slowly stood up. The helmet was bent in the front and there was a wheezing sound coming from the front.

"Then I will fight him", said the rebel sternly.

Victorius almost regretted punching Wraith by now. He could her the rebel's voice. It was even more distorted than before. There was a strange pitch shift whenever the rebel said something, indicating that the helmet had been responsible for Wraith's otherwise so charismatic voice. And now it had been damaged. Yet it was still almost impossible to hear what kind of voice there was behind all of the strange noises coming from the front.

"Captain!" commanded Wraith as a man appeared behind him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Issue the orders to every ship in position. As soon as they see the first sign of hostile gunfire, tell them to make their approach."

"B-but, sir. The size of their fleet is..."

"Not a problem!" growled Wraith. "You hear me?! Maximilian DeRaque will die this day! He will die if I so has to get on that ship and put my hands around his neck myself! But you will follow my orders! I say: tell them to make their approach at the first sign of hostile gunfire!"

"Y-yes, sir!"

Wraith turned the head back to the incoming battlefield. ''In less than half an hour... Maximilian...''

-

"Mistress! Not so close to the balcony!" shouted Gastas.

Valkyrie didn't move an inch. She simply stood there and watched the armada approaching. Rust-grey engines and colours of black. Maxmilian DeRaque, first warlord of Northpoint. She had only heard rumours about him. He was a man obsessed with what he tended to call "pure blood". What he was doing in with an entire army of skyships, she could only guess. Probably no good...

"Mistress, get inside! This doesn't look favourably!"

"Gastas!" she commanded. "Defend of the Ghost-Wolf manor!" She looked at him with her left eyebrow twitching with suppressed rage. "By any means necessary..."

The Dunmer made an elegant bow. "Mistress..."

"The guns are in the cellar", she said. "They will need to be loaded before usage. I fear that this will be a long night."

She loaded the Bereaver and headed down the staircase to the main entrance. "I promise I will return, Gastas. But if I shouldn't. Protect this place with your life. If the city still stands when dawn breaks, I want you to donate the estate and all the properties to the commoners."

"As you wish, ma'am."

She then headed down the hill slopes and towards the city. Above her the sun's last rays of the day hid behind dark and murky clouds.