Re: The Game: Chapter 10
In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 958):
At the Shed
"I hardly think we have the time to climb 30 flights of stairs to retrieve a handful of potions and scrolls," the third mage exclaims. "Time is of the essence!"
"Besides, I always keep a few on my person," Les pipes up.
"After you, then," Drake continues, nodding toward the shed. "Basil led with his chin, and ultimately wound up without one. I've no intention of doing the same."
At the Bridge
Brooks shares a skeptical look with the commander, then clears his throat.
"I'm beginning to think you simply don't understand what is about to happen," the mage says, as the commander nods vigorously. "See those mounted, armored men over there?"
Brooks gestures across the bridge absently.
"There are hundreds of them, and at any moment, each of those 800-some-pound armored behemoths will be hurtling toward us at nearly 50 miles per hour. They will crash against stone and steel and flesh and bone with equal fervor, and there will be no stopping it. You're not going be able to get the word 'yield' out of your mouth before it's all over."
He spits into the dust for emphasis.
"And even if you could, they wouldn't be able to hear you over the tremendous cacophony that accompanies a cavalry charge. Without some way to freeze the whole lot of them in their tracks, the tactic you've proposed cannot help but fail."
Brooks cracks his knuckles and motions toward the line of constructs.
"The best we can hope for is to position these to take the brunt of the impact, then make a fighting retreat back to the spire. With luck, we can keep them from ever noticing that a few of us are missing until our allies have made good their escape."
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:32, Fri 25 July 2014.