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Old February 26th, 2013 (1:26 PM). Edited March 9th, 2013 by Nomsammich.
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Nomsammich Nomsammich is offline
The Cleric!
    Join Date: Feb 2013
    Location: Des Moines, Iowa
    Age: 21
    Gender: Male
    Nature: Quirky
    Posts: 41
    Heva Azcadelia Jade - Xin Kou, Shingou - Northern Villages

    Heva, a wandering mage and mercenary, had found herself in the northern villages of Shinguo, a couple miles from the nation’s capital, Zhongshen. Heva had been drawn to this island nation because of legend she had heard from the mainland.

    As a traveler from the mainland nation of Ethora she was greeted with mixed signals. Possibly because she was sporting mage's robes and an over-friendly attitude, but she didn't take that into consideration. Heva, with her squat healthy merchant build, had been studying the legend of the Necromancer that was sealed inside the mountains just a few miles north of the villages she had been hopping between.

    Nearly every day she was in a new village that had called for assistance; the villages were under attack by the Necromancer's conjurations. These conjurations were fueled by dark magic and held even darker attitudes towards mortals like her. There was an unnatural stench about them, they smelled like the essence of anger, hurt and hate itself. Heva had known that mage's magic could be affected by how they felt at the time of casting the spell. By the way the conjurations were tainted with the stench she could tell the feelings of the fabled Necromancer -- that was turning out to be very real.

    Heva had recently taken up station in the village of Xia Kou. She was greeted by warm faces and white teeth. All the good feelings soon turned sour when the taint of the tainted conjurations began to attack the village, again.


    "Here they come!" one of the village lookouts had yelled, the villages in the north established lookout to warn of the impeding danger. Heva was eating a rice dumpling when her call to action was heard. She took up her staff that had been leaned against the table she was eating at. She was in a small family's home; they housed her since she was fending off the unknowing assaults of the Necromancer. She wobbled her healthiness to the door, a rice dumpling jutting from her oral orifice.

    "You get 'em, Heva," a small girl called out as Heva left. Heva scarfed down the dumpling as she made her way for the north gate of the village. There she met a small minute men force, which the town had thrown together from its farmers and merchants.

    "C'mon, boys," she said, waving her chubby, sausage fingered hand for them to follow her through the gates. The minute men force was a rag tag group, to say the least; they were only equipped with the stereotypical pitchfork and occasional spear. Heva on the other hand had her staff; hand crafted from the wood in Ethora, encrusted with a jewel, a jade, from her father's business. The jewel itself was enchanted with magic properties to empower her spellcasting.

    On the northern horizon the tainted creations started to come, a hoard. "Brace yourselves, boys!" Heva yelled out, her voice hearty. The jade in her staff began to glow as the magic flowed in Heva's squat figure. Her eyes turned from emerald orbs to icy blue radiations. Her hands began to glow and warm, fire soon igniting on them. "Charge!" her voice rang out, battle cries from the men soon voicing off in unison with her own. Heva had turned them simple farm folk and honest merchants into a fighting force, a small battalion.

    The tainting beings and mortals engaged in a melodramatic combat, the occasional sharp shank of a spear piercing through the creation. Heva had led the 'front line' into battle. She used her frenzied casting of small chunks of dangerous fire into the 'ranks' of the Necromancer's creations. The battle was a small war in her eyes. Heva held her staff in hand, swinging it in between her quick, fluent spellcasting, to knock the Necromancer's minions down a notch.

    With each sling of a spell, whack of her staff, spear of a minute man and the lunging of a pitchfork the minions went down fairly easily. This lulled the men into a false sense of security. Soon after one minion would fall two or three more would take its place. It was as if the Necromancer himself was summoning them there in the exact location.

    Heva, unknown to conjuration magic, didn't understand what was happening. For three days she fought these hellish minions from village to village; never had they gotten this heavy in numbers. Soon she and her squadron found themselves outnumbered three to one. They had lost ground and now were at the very gates of the village. The assault was relentless. So much so that Heva had witnessed her first casualty: the death of a young man, no older than twenty, who had fallen one of the more eviler minions.

    "I think," Heva looked to her men, who now cowered in their boots, "we may have taken on too much." She laughed nervously, unsure of how she was going to get out of the situation. The minions kept spawning, as if breeding like rabbits. "Inside, men, inside!" she barked out an order. They hurriedly made their way inside the gates of the town. The wooden walls would have to hold. The town of Xia Kou was under siege.

    "What are we to do, Heva?" one of the men pleaded. Heva shook her head unsure. She had been the sole protector of these lands. The Shinguo army had yet to arrive after much pleading, by herself and the villages that dotted the border before the mountain range. There was still a glimmer of hope: she had caught word that Knights from Ekilore had landed on the island that day. Hopefully, they would get here soon. Or an entire village of citizens would be slaughtered.

    ((OOC: Too much? Not accurate?))
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