Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Dragon Samurai 06-29-05, 12:04 PM	Hey all.. This is a rather odd request, but I need opinions on a battle scene I am writing. Well, actually not only me, but 5-6 other people, too. Think of it as a Pen&Paper mixed collective story writing. Anyway, we are at the Sword Coast now and defending Baldur's Gate from an invading army.My elven warrior is riding a horse, battling a golem.This part is about that particular fight.The huge golem was created from the rubbles of a ballista tower by an enemy spellcaster. I would appreciate any suggestions or criticisms on my style. It is a little long, sorry for that. Fire, dazzling bright, roared from the sky to engulf men-at-arms and paladins, wizards and clerics, who screamed, floundered, burned and died. Those defenders who happened to be standing outside the perimeter of the blast, and thus who survived it, goggled upward to see what had so unexpectedly attacked them. What they saw there draw some mad with fear and made them bolt. The rest, the bravest prepared to strike back. With a jolt that shocked the earth and knocked men staggering, the rubble golem slammed down amid the litter of burning corpses. A fist smashed a knight's ribs and skull; another blow shattered an archer's legs. Grabbing, its hand sheared off the top half of a wizard's torso.Volleys of arrows thrummed and whistled through the air, and flares of fiery breath leaped and hissed in answer.The dying men and horses screamed.The air above the streets sparkled and rippled, and the knights felt a momentary surge of vertigo, as a number of spellcasters conjured attacks all at once.Swirling tendrils of black mist appeared in the construct's path, and five radiant spheres, each a different color, hurled at it. Unfortunately, the spell effects failed to hinder it in the slightest. It looked as if the curls of mist and brilliant orbs withered out of existence on contact with the golem's shimmering aura, before they could touch its body. A hulking shadow at the heart of a bulb of glowing light, the golem rushed at the archers who were harrying it. They all scattered, but not quick enough. It pounced in among them and started killing. It struck so fast its motions were a blur, and every snatch of its fists, a flick of the wrist or lash of its killer breath left at least one man mangled on the ground. The knights of Helm were elite warriors all. Even so, a few threw down their weapons and shields and ran, overwhelmed by fear. Others lost control of the steeds whose mettle they had trusted so well, and the destriers bore them helplessly away. But most of the company stood its ground. The defenders managed to do the construct some little harm in return. An arrow pierced one of its scalloped neck frills. Bellowing the name of his god, a Paladin of Helm swung his greatsword and cut a gash in the golem's flank. A wizard from a rampart thrust out her hands and encrusted the golem's neck and one arm in frost, which seemed to sting it. The creature hissed in fury. A vile liquid oozed from its body, not as a result of any injury but as a manifestation of some magic of its own, and slathered it in a dark, shiny wetness. It lunged and snapped, raking at its adversaries even more savagely then before. The mammoth construction of rubble and magic continued to wreak havoc. Outside, in the night, a lone shadow moved. An unseen witness to the golem's carnage leaned closer to the only gap in the shutters across the windows of a house.Clinging head-downward to the carved stone harpy rooftruss nearest to the shutter, the shadow sacrificed as much balance as he dared, and strained to watch. His arms were already quivering in the struggle to keep himself from plunging into the dark, cobbled street below. " It's either stop the golem here and now, " a captain of the Purple Dragon Knights raised his voice and called, "or let it rampage through Baldur's Gate. We won't have any trouble picking it out, even at night. Allright, gentlemen, this is where we make our stand.You know what you have to do, so take your positions, and may the gods bless us all." Maneuvering with practiced efficiency, the group of twenty riders dispersed itself into a number of smaller units arrayed across the streets.. It was a looser formation than the captain might have chosen to meet another foe, but it was bad tactics to bunch up when fighting bigger, single opponents. The majority of the mounts, even war horses, quite possibly lacked the courage to stand before such a ferocious construct. Isendur had fought hard day and night in the last few weeks, but, noone would know it from the way the elf sat tall and easy on the saddle. After escaping from the initial attack of this mysterious enemy, he managed to join a squad of mounted knights, one of the first organized attempts to stop the threat within the city. He had little to do but wait, while his comrades made preparations for combat ahead. Archers on horses were surely stringing their bows, warriors tightening the pommels of their swords and clerics praying for the blessings of Ilmater and other gods of light. Isendur himself, carrying an enchanted longbow to harass the golem, took up position behind the captain. " Charge ! " yelled the captain, holding his lance high. " Strike it down ! " The small party of lancers, mounted knights and archers advanced. Their course carried them in front of the golem that was blazing hot, casting them briefly int o vivid silhoutte, enabling Isendur to pick out the captain a pace or two advance of the others. The youth smiled, anticipating the deadly blow their master was about to strike, for how could it be otherwise ? Then the warrior of Cormyr swayed like a cripple in his saddle. The point of his lance flopped down to catch in the ground, and the pressure tumbled him backward over his horse's rump. The knights riding closest to him hauled on their reins to keep from trembling him, and veered into the comrades on their other flanks. Other lancers, focused on the golem, raced on without realizing anything was wrong. A spell must have struck him, Isendur thought. The golem had every kind of sinister trick up its sleeve. As the elf galloped onto the field, it obliterated the city's defenders every heartbeat or so. "Steady, girl, " Isendur crooned. "Steady, good girl, don't be scared, just do it the way you are trained to do..." The closer he rode to the golem, the better he could see it, and the more hideous it became. Another horse whinnied in terror as some magical force the golem had invoked heaved him and his rider twenty feet into the air. It slammed them down again a second later. The elf kicked the sides of his horse with the stirrups and raced through the corpses littering the streets. Still he had to take a steady breath, gathering his courage, before he could bring himself to poise the longbow. By good fortune, the magical arrow punched through what must have been a weak spot, and jabbed into the base of the golem's neck. It let out a weak hiss and swung back toward him. Once again the elf found himself the center of attention. Meanwhile, the watching shadow moved, swinging up and away from the shutter, seeking the edge of the roof. A booted foot slipped, a curse blazed sudden and bright in a mind that kept its dangling body coldly silent - and with a sudden surge of effort, the shadow gained the roof and scrambled away. A rider on the golem's flank chopped at its leg with an axe. In response, the construct simply shifted the limb and brushed the axeman and his mount. An armored knight and charger might have been able to withstand such a comparatibly light bump, except that the edges of the rubble golem's body were as sharp as blades. They stripped away the steel and leather layers of protection to flay the flesh beneath. The golem snatched up another warrior in its jaws, chewed, swallowed, and then pounced at the knot of men surrounding it. Its bulk smashed through the final rank of defenders, reducing the scene to chaos. Men dropped, pulped and shattered. Horses bolted. This massive heap of rocks was within the range of Isendur's longbow, and he fired his last enchanted arrow, but the projectile vanished into the icy air as it hit the body, unable to deal damage. The elf with the flowing silver-white hair looked around, hoping to see other men-at-arms rushing to his aid.Only a few were still alive. At the same time, a voice called, "Treachery! Treachery at the walls!" Magically amplified, the words boomed loud as thunder. At which point Isendur abruptly realized that the surviving men were so busy fighting the golem that they had forgotten all about Markus and his army.Only then the elf had no doubt that the golem was only a distraction, a ruse to lure the defenders away from the ramparts. That meant he and the others had, at most, only minutes to bring it down, before the dark army flowed into the city. The warriors of Baldur's Gate had no hope of contending with the golem and the invading horde simultaneously. Most of the men-at-arms around Isendur were dead, the rest, on the verge of routing. Perhaps a handful would escape and lose themselves in the night, but that didn't matter.Isendur rushed in. He rode his horse forward to take a swing at the golem with his scimitar, but he saw its fist coming at him, and the elf squawked a warning to his fellows, scrambling back out of range. Trying hard to stay on the saddle, he had to struggle for another attack and the golem was still turning when the point of the scimitar drove into his side. As Isendur yanked the blade free, a battlemage jabbered a rhyme. Something flickered at the edge of the elf's vision. The golem pivoted in time to see the jagged length of conjured ice fly at it, but not in time to dodge. The missile exploded against its chest.Though the shards failed to pierce the thick layer of debris, a pang of ghastly cold stabbed through its torso. That did not distrupt the golem's casting however, and it thrust out its hand and a bolt of yellow flame leaped from the fingertips. Isendur tried to dodge the spell, but the fire brushed him anyway, searing him. Refusing to let the pain balk him, Isendur snatched up a lance from the ground that a knight had dropped. He resisted his adversary's swelling dread as best as he could, and he charged to within several yards of it, attracting its glittering gaze yet again.
thay_02 06-29-05, 05:31 PM	i dont have any suggestions but i thought the story was pretty good from what is written here. i would actually like to read the complete thing when its finished if you post it on the internet. i also thought it was pretty cool that my players actually just recently attacked baldurs gate. they won but if you do post the story somewhere let me know
Xante Flatnose 06-30-05, 03:36 AM	Like your style but not just your style. The story itself is amusing.