A bad week in Ildon

[Geo 1415]

As she sat upon the high gatehouse tower at the entrance of Winterhall she overlooked the entire courtyard, observing her fellow companions in combat with the tiny scale figures below. The familiar clanging of blades filled her ears, constantly ringing as he saw what appeared to be the 'First blood'. Her tongue rolled along her lips as she grew eager for a bit of action herself, already could she feel her hand reaching for her bow nevertheless she waited patiently. The one with the hood disappeared for a moment, this was something she noticed and was struck with curiosity and concern as he returned rolling a large sphere of iron. He heaved it into the thick dark barrel of what was unmistakeable a cannon, nabbed the torch from the nearby wall and lit the fuse. He ducked down and covered his ears and the clanging of steel silenced when the cannon fired, hurling the massive metal boulder towards the closed gate and shattering it to pieces.

The entire structure began to shake and Octa knew there was a chance it may not hold and with said chance she made her decision to slide back down the ladder and as she landed she noticed the hooded man pass her again. He beckoned her to follow him for they were going to wreak havoc upon the town with the colossal Ballista sat high on the hold's tower alas she had other havoc to wreak and as she followed the group's ringleader she headed through the keep and down into the basement. She guarded the door for hostile forces though her companions topside seemed to have everything under control meanwhile the ringleader had blown a large whole in the locked entrance to what appeared to be a vault of sorts. They both darted in and began flinging open every create, box and chest they could find and not a single one had more than dust and insects in them. They were both furious and as the ringleader left to the surface once more Octa herself was tasked with bringing this place all to hell...

Her hands latched the torches from the wall and with a mad trance of insanity she began to run around the isles of chests and shelves, skimming the brazier of the torch against every wooden surface in sight. The objects combusted into flames and as she looked back she saw the menacing trail of fire racing towards her. It was then she decided she had better leave and as the roaring fires engulfed the entire room, she left. Reaching the top floor of the keep she peered down to see her companions all fighting within it's halls and instinctively she hopped down to the ledge with her bow in hand. From what she could see the odds were in her favour and she sat relaxed for a while enjoying the 'festivities' before her. Not only until she realised that their leader had been struck unconscious was it until she began to retaliate. Her involvement to the combat wasn't major and she'd only landed two arrows in total though an explosive she was given to her by her leader was fired at the brazier above the door as the reinforcements began to pour through the entrance. The entire thing collapsed on top of them, crushing some and keeping others out and those inside still too shocked by the explosion to realise what had happened were slaughtered in the moment.

Octa had gotten down from where she perched and called for them all to leave, taking even their casualty with them and as they smashed the great circular window behind the throne they leapt down onto the soft crunching snow. Still having thought they were inside the guards continued to try and clear the rubble as the group moved along the walls, carrying their leader to safety. Octa stopped however in one specific tower and climbed to the top and she gazed upon it, it was colossal, it was beautiful. The Ballista sat before her with a series of torches all around it, it was perfect... Her last explosive loaded into the bow as she swiftly fired it at the flickering flames and suddenly. Nothing. She turned deaf for a split second as the entire roof exploded and collapsed, the Ballista (What was left of it) combusted into flames and the rest of the roofing, rubble on the ground. She quickly scrambled to her feet as she'd now gained half of Ildon's attention, scurrying along the walls to catch up with her group...

If you were to walk through the gates to Winterhall you'd notice that there is not gate anymore... it was blasted into several iron shards. Cutlery oddly blankets the floor in front of a rather faulty cannon which is surrounded by large globules of blood. To try and walk inside the Keep would mean to clear away the entire entrance that collapsed upon itself and within lays the now charred and soldered carpet that was once a roaring fire. The great grand window behind the throne remains shattered, now matching the one on the same wall as the entrance and within this room there is also plentiful amounts of blood on both the walls and the burnt floors.

Those that would check the vaults would not only see the entrance to it exploded by ignominious objects but would find that the entire vault's supply of chests and shelves have collapsed on themselves, fried and charred by the flames. The entire place is a shamble and there may indeed still be flame there now. Chunks of the once great Ballista lie scattered around the snowy grounds of the Courtyard and as for the construct itself... The Ballista appears completely sundered by the powerful force of explosions from underneath it, the wooden hue's completely demolished by the ravenous fires.

The cobblestone roof that held the tower together as well as the Ballista on top of it has completely caved in on itself and there are likely to be rubble and parts of the Ballista in the second highest floor. To your dismay there are bodies of faces you may recognise, knights, squires and citizens alike laid throughout the courtyard and the throne room. Along with the already damaged parts of Winterhall and the recent events that have been upsetting the residents of Ildon recently it has undoubtedly been... a bad week in Ildon.

[cometking123 236]

*The chef looks at the scene of devestation and carnage. He enters the keep through an small hole in the wall.Trying to avoid the mass amounts of debris he finds the windows broken, the walls stained with blood. Yells and shouts emerge from the outside, the seedling of an cleanup crew coming. He naught cares, trying to push away the debris toward something, an door. Slowly, Mavro enters the door, passing through the ruined chapel and staircase to find his kitchen, his beautiful, pearl of an kitchen. Luckily, he still finds the kitchen untouched from the devastation that occured.*

"Ha! This accident will never effect Illdon until my kitchen is in ruins. Sick bastards or nature can take my kitchen when they have their heads on an pike."

*he thinks what sort of idiots could leave the kitchen untouched*

[Redbaron™ 690]

*Smiles at the news, clapping slowly as he says*

[Elindor 666]

The sleeping wizard is awoken by the sounds of an explosion. He rolls over, attempting to ignore it. Now stirred from sleep he can hear it unmistakably: the sounds of war. He groans. This is not the awakening he was supposed to have. The time is not yet come for him to return. Yet the sounds of another explosion confirm that Winterhall is no longer a safe place.

He rolls his legs to the floor, shaking his muscles from over a century of slumber. Picking up the stick by his bedside, he hobbles towards the door, breaking the magic seal on its lock to peer outside. There is fighting in the courtyard. He closes the door again slowly. The sounds of raiders in the vault prove that he must leave now or risk being found. He picks up the faded navy robe, throwing it across his shoulders and over his head, covering his now very long facial hair.

The wizard slips out the door of the crypt. He survey the fight leant against a stone wall. Just one distraction is all that is needed and he can slip away. Helpless untrained young soldiers are easily brought down by the attackers. He stands by, powerless to intervene. There is a large sound of an explosion as the ballista is incinerated. That's the distraction he needs.

The once-sleeping wizard slips past the fighting and hobbles into the inn. He does not have the strength to leave Ildon yet, but Winterhall is no longer safe. Against all his better judgement it is time to for the wizard to wake.

[SkyyoBee 249]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.