Patre Scopulous is totally oblivious as to whats currently transpiring around
himself . . .

      Arctos leans his spear upon his pew with a trembling hand, and begins to fumble
with the bloodied scroll case hanging freely at his side.  He speaks to no one as he
fears that his unbridled anger may cause him to lose the last shred of sanity that
he currently possesses . . .  His strong Dwarven spirits had no obvious effect upon
his current infernally dark state of mind, and that left him with but one choice!

      A short while later the Dwarven Patre commences to read aloud in a deep gravely
monatone voice from one of the inscribed Scrolls containing the Calm Emotions spell --
for one and all to freely hear.  The Patre centers the spell directly upon himself
without further adeau. . .

      After having finished uttering his spell aloud, Patre Arctos returns the scroll
and scroll case from whence they came, slings his shield over his shoulder, grabs his
Agnon into his left hand, and leaves a trail of blood while he makes his way to the
nearby Infernally profaned alter.  Once there, he decides it best to destroy it, being
that it may prove to be a convenient vehicle for other demons and vile infernal mach-
inations to arrive unexpectedly onto this plane of existance, and into this very
Temple . . .

      Arctos grabs his trusty hammer, and begins to swing it wildly at the Infernally
profane alter as his blood continues to drip from his mighty muscled form . . .
all the while screaming aloud . . .

      "Huzzah Mars! Huzzah Mars! Huzzah Mars!  Huzzah to all the gods O' goodness!"

      Shards from the Infernal Altar continues to fly hither thither and yon on the
Patres first stroke with Calvado's Hammer, then his second stroke, third stroke, and
then something amazing transpires for one and all to behold on his fourth devestating
stroke!

      Upon having achieved his goal, the Dwarven Patre curls up upon the Temple's
floor with his agnon grasped at his side within his left hand, and his Hammer
tightly caressed to his chest with his right . . . and goes into the dark succor
of unconsciousness from his current wounds and blood loss.
     
This message was last edited by the player at 05:00, Wed 28 Mar 2012.

Heolstor left the battelines briefly after Dunduin did. His men, and their non-human allies, swept the temple clear of orc resistance before he arrived on the scene. The Saxon took the opportunity to breathe easily for a moment and sheathe his blade as he made his way through the breached temple wall, stepping over dusty rubble to do so. He surveyed the scene briefly, then instructed the men accompanying him to head for the next floor and begin clearing it with the assistance of the army's heroes.

Heolstor was in agreement with Dunduin though, it only made sense that the remainder of the army secure the perimeter and the city at large.

Somewhere above he heard a horn and an unnaturally loud voice shouting. "The battle has gone well here, I take it?" He asked of the advance party, a thin smile crossing his face.

"Indeed. Even the dandelion eaters did their part. Though it appears we're not quite done yet. The remaining enemy battle elements are gathering and regrouping at that temple over there. It appears that they are going to go down fighting. I suggest we approach the situation carefully and use all of our units to their best advantage. We can begin with long range attacks that will begin to wear down their numbers and defenses."


OOC: Maybe I missed something but I thought the battle wasn't over yet.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:44, Wed 28 Mar 2012.

 As Cirostis climbs up to the balcony to make his announcement, Tugdual feels it it a perfect apportunity to carved the legend for future dwellers of Tullum to remember.

 He follows upstairs and as the powerful voice of the beard carver is heard, he calls on the power of Nature to summon a flight of white doves. The birds appear magically behind Cirostis and Brannoc, as a symbol of peace to celebrate the victory of the coalition against the infernal forces. They fly up in the air and eventually disappear in the mist above Tullum.

 As the dwarven scout turns to him, he shrugs and chuckles :
  "I'm not too much for these naive images, but these people deserve something to remember of this glorious day..."

 The druid then rejoins Petra and wonders what she's doing with the hurt little girl...

The Breton thanks the Druid for helping him get rid of the burning splatter eating through his skin. After that he just stands there befuddled, sword in hand, until Cirostis comes to embrace him.

After the Horn of Resounding is sounded for the third time today in Tullum and magically boosted poem is shouted, the scout gives the horn back to its rightful owner.
"I believe this is yours, friend. Good thinking down there, just when it was about to turn worse." He says to Cirostis with a smile.
"You stood alone against it for a long time. I salute you, master Dwarf, for never before in my life have I witnessed such courage. I'm proud I had a change to fight beside you today."

Then something above catches his eye and he looks up. The white doves.

OOC- I am not clear if if I saw the Patre fall, or am in visual range to see his current plight.   As soon as Petra finds out, she will immediately go do a CMW on him.   Including if someone yells "CLERIC!" or something...

2) Dunduin is right.  The battle isn’t over.  That does not mean that the party cannot take a breather- there are hundreds more doing the fighting.  Even as they look around to get their bearings, they hear the Huns run past outside, retreating back to their final holdout, the Basilica.  Whether they intend to fight to the death there, hold out for reinforcements, or just sneak out through some unknown passage, no one can tell.
But here, in the temple, the tide is unstoppable.  The Horn has brought the Dwarven troops, who arrived late but are eager to join in, and they swarm in, past the Elves and Human who got their first.  Arctos sees loyal Scippio heading into the temple, smashing the collarbone of one of the surviving Orcs.
Arctos gets his frustrations out on Sonnelion’s Altar, quickly reducing it to shards.

Petra, meanwhile, investigates the Box Of Animals.  The little girl stalls, worried for her brother, and when she sees him scurrying over to join them, along with Tugdual, she is relieved.

”It opens” the little girl says.  “Like this.”

She undoes a little silver catch, and the roof of the toy house opens from the middle.  The inside of the box looks very much like a little toy model of a barn ought to look like, with stalls for animals and little animals in them.  Well, it looks like a barn would look if it was designed by a young girl.  The walls are white and pink, the stalls wide and clean and comfortable looking, and there’s even a pool of… wait.. is the water real?

In one of those sudden moments, Petra sees the little animals that appeared to be small and intricately crafted toys… moving.  They are not toy animals.  They are a half dozen very small, very real animals.
The little girl speaks to them in a reassuring, nursery-room voice, as if they were a collection of dolls.

The animals themselves are an assortment.  A very unusual one.  There is an Elk.  A peacock with a flowing tail.  A large, shaggy, powerful beast with a horn on its nose (A woolly rhinocerous).  A thing that looks like a pig.. but not exactly.  (A pigmy hippopotamus).  A delicate looking antelope.  And a white horse, with a set of large, feathered wings.  Although they are all small, they are very much alive.

Petra gasped slightly at the realization the tiny fauna were alive.  Or at least certainly looked to be.  She glanced swiftly over the odd assortment, eyes stopping last on the winged equine - like a steed of the Valkyries, or what the Romans would call a pegasus.

As Tugdual arrived, Petra glanced up at the large druid with a questioning look.  She said nothing - he would see for himself - and there was nothing she could tell him.  Rather, she wondered if there was anything he could say about something like this...

"You wanted to protect these friends from being punished," she said to the girl, repeating what she'd said, and for Tugdual's knowledge. "And you said they are very important. Is that because they are your friends? Or are they important for some other reason, too?"   

 Tugdual kneeled next to the little girl and gave Petra a warm smile. Surely, the hearth of a battle was an appropriate place to play house, in a certain reality. The Druid was obviously happy that somehow, said reality had come to him at this very moment.

 He glanced at the tiny animals and was properly amazed, yet they did not keep his attention for long, as he turned to the half-elf maid and said :
  "It was a grand and beautiful thing you did, taking care of that little pixie in the middle of the fight. And I am sure that it is what made the victory possible."

 His eyes fell on the tiny menagerie again, he asked :
  "Wait, is this a Wollnashorn ?! It is said that these creatures once roamed the icy plains of Europa... But they disappeared long ago... They were exiled to the sunburnt lands of the south, to suffer there with the mammoths...
   I wish I had known this era, when Mother Nature was still the master of her own domain, before the rise if civilization..."

 The druid lays nostalgic eyes on the minuscule wooly beast, then looks at Petra and the little girl and says :
  "I'm sorry, I must bore you. What is your name little girl ?"

 He tries to make his voice warm and soothing, and is apparently quite good at it... As if he had done this before.

The little girl seems happy to have a friendly audience now.  She says her name is Aura, and she names the animals too… but the names she gives them have nothing to do with the names Tugdual knows.

The rhinoceros, as she points out to Tugdual, is Wuffles.

The little girl explains that there is more to the magic of the box and the animals, but she doesn’t know.  She says they were her mother’s animals, but her mother was killed by the Huns.

”That’s because my mother was a priestess,” the girl says.  “They don’t like priestesses or priests.  They killed a lot.  The box is magic, and it was very important.  She told me.”

According to the child, there is more to this magic box of animals, but she doesn’t know.  So she’s keeping it safe, until someone can show her.

Thank you, Sir Brannoc. Cirostis says with respect
I hope they heard it, he says indicating the orcs in the basilica.

Let us get back to the fight Cirostis goes down and notices Arctos moaning on the floor.
He turns to the centurion
Sir, is he all right?
...
We are prepared to return to the fight. Shall I organize a consolidation of the territory youve taken while you harden the lines or do you wish to continue with a rapid assault?

"See to the dwarven priest, he looks to be in dire straits." Suggested Heolstor, to one of the elven healers that had accompanied their last assault.

"We'll take the fight back to them then," Heolstor replied firmly to Dunduin "No rest, no respite for the Huns. Have your men ready for the final push." He took a moment to regard his dwarven counterpart measuringly. "I don't intend to allow them any avenue of escape. The orcs would show us no mercy if our roles were reversed, I will return the favor." The Saxon nodded to those in attendance, grim-faced and prepared.

"Congratulations to you all, it is an undeserved honor to be in the company of so many champions." Heolstor placed a hand on his sword's pommel and turned to depart the temple, headed for the battlelines once more to oversee what still remained.

"May I suggest we soften them up with artillery fire and long range weapons and try to draw some of them out. If we are successful your cavalry will have a field day with them. I'll have our dwarven contingent form up a defensive line once we are done here."

"Makes no difference. The tide has turned. They must now flee or die there, every single one of them." Brannoc replies matter-of-factly.
---
When Heolstor congratulates them, the scout simply nods. Sweet feeling of demon slaying vanishes quickly. There is a new fight ahead and, like in any battle, there will be casualties. Some of these men, elves and dwarves present will not see the dawn. Without another word he departs the temple at Heolstor's heels, checking if his bow is intact and how many arrows his quiver still holds.

"Thank you," Petra said in return to Tugdual's acknowledgement. She noted his familiarity in dealing with the little one, and wondered if was himself a father.  "You bore not at all. Some day you must tell me what it is like to take the shape of the animals. But for this day, we've more work to do, yet." 

Perhaps Anakri would be a good choice to take the children to, and give possession of these animals.  If she was nearby.  Petra had one last question for the girl, as she prepared to find a guardian for the children, tend her allies' wounds, and find and report to Heolstor.

"Aura, which deity was it that your mother served?"

Aura isn’t sure why Petra is asking the question.  The little girl looks puzzled for a moment.  Then she says, “My mother spoke of many gods.  She would say prayers for them.  The goddesses, mostly.  I remember Idunn and Freya  but also Tiew, on his days.. that’s the god of law.”

Her pronunciation is off, Petra realizes.  The little girl’s “Freya” sounds more like “Fruaja”.  But she knows that the words and names changed with time.  The girl’s mother’s lineage was probably one of the more southern Germanic tribes.

“My uncle is alive,” Aura announces, just to be clear that she’s not completely alone.  “He’s the magistrate of Tullum.  But he doesn’t know about the animals.  We don’t get to see him.”

When the children see that the torturer is dead, they are profoundly relieved.  They feared him more than the Orcs.

Between the two children describing things, a wicked truth emerges.  The torturer had been a vicious criminal caught, tried, and thrown into prison by the magistrate, before the coming of the Huns.  The Hun priest, who empowered his spells by "feeding" sadistic joy to Sonnellion, discovered a perfect assistant in the imprisoned torturer, as the man enjoyed hurting people, especially, above all else, the family of the magistrate who had caught and imprisoned him.  The torturer did it with more pure joy than even the Huns had for that.  The children have seen half their family killed over the years, two in the last few months as the Huns prepared for something big, "when the Orc soldiers left".

The children watch as Petra helps attend to the other wounded, including the somewhat squished Arctos.  He’s a hard one to treat- the crushing effect of the Dark Hold left no easily identifiable wounds.

Upstairs, the remaining Orcs in the temple are defeated, and the troops secure the temple.  Only the Basilica remains, but the action there will move back to the “Battle for Tullum” thread, as we keep this one for any further investigation in the temple or other “rear area” work.

 Tugdual listens to the little girl and a feeling of unease grows inside his heart, something the druid is not much used to. He nods an eventually says :
  "When this turmoil is over, we will try and find your uncle."

 He turns to Petra and mumbles :
  "I think it would be best if you kept her with you... it would do her no good to see so many new faces at once. I will stay around as well ; there is little need for me on the battlefield anyway..."

 If he can spare a moment of Heolstor's time, Tugdual will ask :
  "What is your word concerning those Huns who decide to flee ? Is your cavalry after them ? If so, I volunteer to scout ahead and steer your forces in the right direction...
   I am not a keen tactician, is it better to let some flee and spread the word of our victory ? Or to annihilate each and every last one of them of possible ?"

        The cloud of unconsciousness fades just a bit from the Dwarven Patre's mind,
and is able to finally note the Elf thats currently providing ministrations to his
atypical wounds.  The Dwarven Patre forces a smile at the Elven Priest before address-
ing the healer in a strained deep voice . . .

        "The Infernal darkness wot ensnared me hadst a deadly crushin hold pon me.

        Tis quite ironic that the very Elves wot mine High King ordered artselves
to lend aid to art now doing so for mine miserable soul!"
 
This message was lightly edited by the player at 18:57, Mon 02 Apr 2012.

"You've a point," she replied to Tugdual.  "I would be happy to stay with her - only I do need to report to Heolstor, and continue to serve as I can.  If there is no conflicting duty, I will watch her - them," she amended, including the brother.   "If otherwise we must find someone else."

So Aura's mother had been, like herself, priestess of the Vanir and Aesir collectively.  Petra did not know if that would have any bearing on figuring out the magic of this miniature menagerie, or not.  It truly belonged to Aura of course;  child or no, Petra did not overlook that.  But if it could help their efforts in some way, then they should understand and use it.

Heolstor was outside the temple. He found time to speak with Tugdual though when prompted.

"We will overtake those Huns that flee. Those that will surrender may be captured, the rest I intend to put to the sword." Little remorse was to be found in Heolstor's voice. "The greater portion of my cavalry, those light horse in my force, have been outside the city walls cutting off lines of retreat and approach. They could use your aid, I do not doubt it. If you can direct them I would appreciate the effort, Tugdual."

"Some will likely escape even if we pursue them. Every Hun we do ride down though is one less blade arrayed against us in the coming months." He regarded the Basilica in the distance. "And we will need every advantage we can find."

 Once he has heard from Heolstor, Tugdual walks back to Petra and the two children. He says :
  "I may need to fly away, but I can take care of them while you figure out what you need to do."

 The massive druid kneels and takes the boy's tiny little hand in his palm and asks :
  "What about you, big man ? Do you know about the animals as well ? Which is your favourite ?"

Dunduin give Cirostis the orders to handle the artillery barrage. It's more of a request but the result is much the same. He also wishes to take care of any remaining forces behind their lines before committing everyone to the basilica assault. Arctos or Cirostis is his first choice but if neither are available or willing he'll select another officer for the mission. In both cases he coordinates his efforts with Heolstor and keeps him informed continuously with updates roughly every 15 minutes. Coordinating a cleanup mission with some human cavalry and elven archers would certainly speed up the completion rate.


OOC: Posting this here too for the 'behind the lines' work.

(It appears everyone has moved outside, to where the main battle is.  Unless Tugdual is still here?)

 ooc : not sure about the kids issue ...
 if they're sound and taken care of, outside it will be.

OOC- Tugs...I've been posting over in Battle of Tullum.  I wrote there that Petra had the kids with her, while she reported to Heolstor. (Out in front of the Basilica, before any battle had started.)  She is a bit torn between wanting to look after them, and guard the artifact, and returning to the battle.  Ben has provided means...saying various npcs can watch them.   I think I am going to have her rejoin the battle effort over there...so you have the choice of joining us in the fight, or watching them yourself, as you so prefer.  :)

I'll voice Petra's choice, and post for her tomorrow, Ben.  Not gonna have time today!