Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20150121033507/@comment-5543592-20150121033845

(Intro post, the destruction of the Academy.  Intro theme)

Two and a half years ago...

Tomas returned a wreck. He’d gone solo, something Weltrod had started him on recently, the sick bastard. He’d been sent to single-handedly wipe out a bandit camp, and he was successful, but it still taxed him. Despite his infinite Magicka, he could still get exhausted. On his way in he saw several of his squad mates, Darach, Megan (the former always seemed to be tailing the latter), John, Marius, and others, hanging around the library. He’d catch up with them later. Now he had to report to Weltrod. He stepped into the General’s office door, which was standing wide open.

“Oh, Tomas, you’re back, how’d it go?”   He could’ve been out on a walk, Weltrod was so pleasant.

Tomas relayed how he had easily taken the bandits down. It was a quick, ten minutes story. Weltrod nodded, pleased.

“Excellent go take a show-“    A steam piston blared behind Weltrod. The Academy was an old Dwemer tower, so it still had all the things that came with a Dwarven ruin.

“We’re attack!”   Said Weltrod, exasperated. The piston must have been a warning alarm. He was clenching his chair in a mix of fear and anger. The Academy was not defensible. It was a dinky tower built into the side of a cliff with no natural or manmade defenses. They had a small wall to dignify boundaries, and that was all. Tomas and Weltrod rushed outside to see the problem. They were greeted by Battlemage Lara, someone Tomas recognized, and someone he and his squad had saved from the rouge Legate Hummel’s goons.

“An army of Dwemer automatons sir. Many spheres. Much more than we can take.”

“ETA?”

“Minutes, if not seconds.”

Weltrod cursed. “Start the evacuations. We’re going to lose a lot of men getting these kids out of here.” “No.”   Interrupted Tomas.

The both looked at him, confused.

“I’ll handle it.”

Then their eyes widened in shock.

“Tomas, no-“ Weltrod started.

“I can do it.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Tomas-“

<p class="MsoNormal">“I can do it.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Weltrod looked conflicted, when he heard the sounds of battle outside.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Have you sent word to Solitude?”   Weltrod asked Lara.

<p class="MsoNormal">“They won’t get here in time.”   Said Tomas.

<p class="MsoNormal">“He’s right.”   She said. Weltrod sighed, but made up his mind. He nodded to Tomas. The young battlemage took off out the door.

<p class="MsoNormal">Outside, Tomas spotted several Battlemages. They were in the midst of a firefight with several Dwaven spheres armed with crossbow arms, and lightning zapping Dwarven spiders. The Battlemages were losing badly, which was easily to note as the instant he sprinted outside, one feel dead beside him.

<p class="MsoNormal">Tomas joined, just in time to save a mage by hurling his attacker over the cliff with telekinesis. Tomas took down several more opponents, before they main part of the horde hit. The Conscious must really want them dead. In a matter of seconds all of his allies were dead. Cross bolts in their face, stomach, neck, etc., it didn’t matter. They were dead and Tomas was alone, kept alive only because his uncanny abilities allowed him too consistently shield himself from the bolts. He felt guilty for not saving his comrades, but there were so many attackers, he’d never be able to. Tomas retreated inside and pressure locked the doors using the buildings built in defenses. The Academy was empty. Everyone must have already evacuated.

<p class="MsoNormal">There was a banging on the doors, and a massive dent appeared in it. His Ancient Knowledge told him that the automaton army must have had a Centurion. Tomas knew he had to hold this position. If he didn’t, the army would hunt him and the rest of the Academy’s students down. Funny, I never thought it would end anywhere near like this. Tomas focused his hands on the door, the brown energy of Alteration Magicka pooling in his palms. After two more bangs by the Centurion, the door burst down, and his enemies burst in. Tomas splayed his hands, blasting the doorway with all the telekinetic energy he could muster. Automatons flew backwards, crashing, laying dented and destroyed in the courtyard metres back. But the Centurion pushed forward. It marched towards Tomas, fighting against his magic. It swung out with its hammer and connected with his left arm. He heard the bones shatters and split on contact, and he saw something protruding, but he didn’t feel a thing. The arm feel to his side, useless. The Centurion blasted him with a concentration burst, knocking him back, burned badly, and sprawled on his back. His skin was blistering already and the pain was excruciating. The Centurion loomed above him, raising its axe to deliver the killing blow. Tomas swelled with anger, at this pitiful way he was going to die. Not like this. But he was determined not to die like this. With a scream of pure rage. He raised his remaining hand, emanating a blast telekinetic energy outwards in all directions. The walls started to collapse in on him, and everything went black.

<p class="MsoNormal">Weltrod, the remaining Battlemages, and students watched the spectacle from below, having escaped by going out through the pipes that drew up water for the showers. They watched as the tower seemed to fold in on itself for a second, before exploding outwards. Debris flew from the cliff as the tower was reduced to nothing, any remaining structure sliding off the cliff. Then, as the automatons retreated, the cliff itself fell, dropping to the ground several dozen meters below, taking the majority of the automatons with them. Students and Battlemages cheered at the triumphant sight. Only Weltrod remained silent, looking grim with pursed lips.

<p class="MsoNormal">“What’s wrong?”   Asked Jean, approaching the General.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Tomas was in there, he decided to stay behind. We’ll do well to remember his sacrifice.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Jean looked shocked. “Are you kidding me?!”   He shouted at Weltrod. “A boy just gave up his life so that we could get away with ours! And that’s all you have to say? I can’t believe you left him behind! What were you thinking?!”

<p class="MsoNormal">Weltrod turned to face Jean and furrowed his brow. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Jean fixed his father with the most incredulous stare. “No, because you only answer to two powers: the Divines and the Emperor, I remember.”   Jean said coldly. “You disgust me. You treat this kids like commodities. Not the case, General; they’re people.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Weltrod looked hurt, “Jean, I-“

<p class="MsoNormal">“No,” Said Jean, slicing the air horizontally with his hand, as if to demonstrate the severing of ties between them. “We’re finished. Screw you and your Empire.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Jean stormed off, going to check on the students. Weltrod turned away with a sigh and looked on at the ruins of the Academy. His expression was unreadable, but it definitely wasn’t regret.