Log:Storming the Castle

Storming the Castle
So. To be clear, you're wanting me to do what again?
Participants Damion King, Hien, Saulot as ST	13 December, 2019 Damion helps with a distraction by killing a lot of hobs.
Location Echo's Lament
Hien had gone about looking for Harvestmen, and Damion was the one he found. The dragon alone was one he got, at some point making some remark about the other man's height. The request wasn't a simple one, nor was their target. A privateer that'd made something of a home for himself here. He lived out in the sticks of the mortal world, but his domain in the hedge was a mystery. At least until Hien had ferreted it out. The enemy, Robin Ritter, lived in in a place carved out that amounted to a small village surrounding a fortress of sorts. This little slice of life was where he kept himself, and his captives were somewhere else. Where Damion comes in is that the place is heavily secured. An almost innumerable amount of hobgoblins and hedge beasts were on the premises. Damion, as big and strong as he was purported to be, is an excellent distraction. A big one, at that. While he did so Hien was going to take care of the king of the castle, as it were. Hien was to be waiting outside not too far from the gate near the rocky overlook of the real world. The place was at the foot of the mountain, and coming along the lowlands is what he said would be best. So that's where he waits wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and shorts. Damion makes his way to where Hien is waiting, standing near the other tall Lost. "So. To be clear, you're wanting me to do what again?" Hien nods when catching sight of Damion. The question elcits a tilt of his head, and a searching look of the other Lost. "The place is going to be big. Bigger than Stoneheart, all things considered. If you remember hte details of the location I gave you then it's mainly getting there, and then you doing your big sword swinging thing." He briefly mimics the other Lost swinging a blade, and then points northwest to the mountain. "Worst case is that he ain't there, but taking that place down and anyone else there is too good a thing to pass up." Checking that the sword in question is loose in its sheath, Damion replies, "Right. There's a lot of them down there, yes? If they start getting through my armor, it could get a little dicey. Hopefully none of them are particularly strong." He considers the other Lost. "How long do you think it will take you to get in and take him out?" Hien nods, and then starts moving. "You'll be fine," he responds. "I saw how things went with that fanged thing in the fens. Worst case you gotta hightail it. I don't think I've seen the hobs ever leave that place. Lost are obviously a different issue, but that's beside the point. There should only be two Lost there. Robin and their boyfriend, and I'll take care of either of those." Damion settles in beside and slightly behind Hien and follows, nodding back. "Are you going to try and take them prisoner, or just kill them?" He doesn't really give any indication of which of those he'd prefer. He considers his lack of weapons and armor. "And are you going to be okay with no gear?" "We'll cross that bridge when we get there," he answers to the other Changeling. "As a warning. It's probably going to start raining really bad there, but I saw you go all giant. It'll be like a tiny puddle." He pauses for a moment, and adds, "Maybe. As for me, I have everything I need. Armor weighs me down and makes too much noise a lot of the time." He stretches his arms high as they walk. "Also not as much room to do everything I want to do." The dragon nods his head. "Water again. I should maybe learn the basic Elements contract for it to deal with things like that." He absently cracks his knuckles. "So... have these Hobs and such been doing anything bad? Well. I guess working with a Privateer is pretty bad on its own." Hien nods. "I can tell you some basic pointers on it, but it's not the greatest of protections. You can probably meditate on that crap on the way there." Along the way the Beast falls to silence save answering any questions that come from the Fairest. At least until they near the area where they're going to have to go a bit off the trod the closer they get to the mountain. It seems he doesn't have any more questions at the moment. Silently trompng along with the amphibious lost, his eyes scanning the area as they go for signs of any dangers they weren't expecting. It's the Hedge after all. You can't be certain of anything. Day quickly turns to light as they wander on. They haev to traverse through thorn and bush and trees to find their destination. Hidden amid the forest they can see nothing that points them in anything close to the right direction. A quarter of an hour passes, and it might seem like Hien is getting them lost until they can hear the sound of movement to the west. "Be careful while you're here," Hien whispers behind him. Despite stating the obvious he says, "Again, if shit gets hairy bolt. You should be fine, but better alive than dead. Yeah?" With that said he reaches up to pluck a chained weapon from thin hair, shiny and as blue as he. They come to the outskirts of the first village. Inside they can already see the ongoings of some hobs. Orange-skinned and as tall as any humans. The carrot-colored people currently number five outside. Two of them sit around a fire, eating on something meaty. The other two sit nearby, enjoying a card game where one seems to be losing handly. The last of them sits there, carving something into a tree as she frantically looks left to right. Damion has traveled through the thorns enough time to know what's up. He tries to go quieter as they approach the sounds of voices, listening once they get near. He nods to Hien. Crouching down, he studies the hobs assembled for a time as he waits for his companion to move away to ready for infiltration. Eventually he straightens up, stepping out into the open and beginning to approach the group. While he does, he tries to spot what it is the female job is carving. Damien may have seen the thing the Hob was scrawling into the tree. It's sign was typically seen near the corpses of Changelings found near this part of the mountain. It's locally been taken as a portent of some kind, or simply a sign left by some particularly fpul creature in the hedge. As Damion goes forward Hien ducks out of sight without a word nor a sound. As he does so the clouds being to gather overhead. It was cloudy today, sure, but nothing bad. There was even the threat of rain, but something seemed wrong as the droplets begin to fall. The hobs look up, confused by the rain that now falls. Their curiosity on the sudden rain is gone immediately as they all look upon Damion. The soft pitter patter of rain echoes all around them as the hobs scream at him as they start reaching around them for weapons. Only four do, though, as the hob-lody at the tree takes off towards the village proper. Coming to a stop, Damion focuses on his fae side, using it to expand his body outwards and upwards. His mass drastically increasing until he's towering over the hobs even more than before, unsheathing his sword and waiting for their approach. The rain doesn't seem heavy enough to be a real bother. This seems like a manageable number. Though he's yet to see how many more the female is going to bring. The hobs were scared at first. They reached for weapons and were readying an attack when Damion grew. Up and up and up their gaze go until they have to crane their neck to see the totality of the Fairest. What was once fear eventually breaks when something breaks the silence. The rain continues to fall like bullets. The nascent storm continues to grow, and something breaks the the void that was rainfall. A sonorous horn blows somewhere in the distance. It's soon followed by one, and then another. Eventually a chorus of cacophony horns sound all around the castle. Fire are light in the background of the storm and upon the fortress. Aid was coming. That much was obvious. It gives them a fire of their own. Something to use as a foundation for their own attack, and with screams of glory and fury and anger they rush to dragon. For their efforts one of them is knocked away and struck down by Damion. The rest are ineffectual, and barely lay a scratch into his army. Damion watches the four approach, keeping his weapon moving in his hands as they do. After one is caught and sent flying, he more seriously aims. Swinging low, the tip dragging briefly across the dirt, the flames of the now oversized sword catching the bodies alight as all three are sliced through in one go, one beheaded, one caught around the waist, and the third taking it near the knees. Then he's moving forward, looking to find a more defensible, narrower spot if possible where it will be harder for them to surround him. But where he'll still be able to swing his weapon at his current size. It being entirely possible such a fortunate spot doesn't exist here. Damion cuts down those hobs without much issue at all. However, as he looks up from his current melee he can see them coming. Groups of armored hobs lined up one to the other. They each hold pikes, and move as a unit. A well-trained, well-oiled cog in a machine. A horn echoes from behind them, and they stop. The two squads of infantry split into two separate squads as the horn roars again. Lurching forward ever slowly was a massive, monstrosity of a mobile tower that moved in the mud. From those windows Damion can make out something there, lit up and moving around inside. As the siege tower crawled forward several hobs began to climb to the roofs of their homes. On his left were at least a dozen all with bows almost as big as him. The only hob without a bow was slender and just a wee bit taller than the rest, and shouting out something that sounded as much like gibberish as it would any spoken word. Well. That certainly is a lot of Hobs. Damion watches the approaching hobs silently, trying to count them. It's a big number. He glances to the side where the Hobs are assembling on a rooftop, and moves towards them, readying his weapon to swing once he manages to get close enough. He'll focus on the one who seems to be giving the orders when he does. It might be a little intimidating for the Hobs having somebody that big with a weapon that big charging at their position. Damion pounds up the row of houses, giving a careful sideways swipe. Not careful enough however, and he apparently moved a little too slowly. It passes over their heads when they have time to duck down, the heat form the weapon proabbly uncomfortable but none of them actually being hurt. He resets himself, ready for another blow, and tightens his grip on the sword. Damion swept through, and it drew even more of their ire. The hobs atop the roof start getting ready to take position, bows trained on the Fairest. While Damion and the archers are focused on each other one squad of infantryhobs lower their pikes, and charge him. It was no deathblow, but Damion felt the wee impact of all those sharp points jabbing at his leg. When he's ready, Damion swings again. This time he's lower, and swings faster. The edge catches many of them. Others are touched by the flames as they pass and set alight. A couple thrown from the top of the roof by the sheer wind pressure of the currently massive weapon. Falling to the ground below like broken dolls. None of them are alive for long after his attack, and Damion turns his attentino back down to the hobs at his feet. He turns his weapon over in his hands, gripping the blade near the end with one hand and preparing to bring it down on them like a frying pan on a rat. The horns continued to bellow throughout the night as the rain fell. What broke up that cycle were the sudden screams of the hobs as Damion snuffed them out in one fell swoop, and things returned to the odd music of their battle once more. Those on the ground regrouped, and stayed in formation. Their movements betray their training, and those pikes were thrust and up forward, trying their damnedest to pierce Damion's armor. They leave bruises, but nothing that truly stops the dragon. The sound of horns is drowned out by a loud trilling sound almost akin to breying. Damion hears the beasts as they near, and their difficult to see through the rain and the darkness save for their rider. If he narrows his eyes just a bit he can make out the beasts. They ride atop giant (for them) red-feathered beasts that look to be more mouth than body and head. As the cavalry enters the battle Damion can see something else near the castle. A glint of something metal that reflects his firey form. Then he can see multiples of it and them. Gunners lined up and crouched down before taking their shot. The hobs are in shock. Typically this is when they'd be celebrating a hard fought victory. A win, and an easy one with their training and numbers. Except they haven't gone against anything like Damion, and it's showing. If not in their efforts it's easy enough to read on their slick, wet faces. Despite the shock and awe of fighting the absolute unit that is Damion they redouble their efforts. The cavalry are already charging in, and slide by to graze Damion's leg with their spears. One squad of infantry takes this as their chance at an opening, and follows suit with another swift thrust. The loudest of them all prove to be the gunners as they let loose several shots that do little to the armored dragon. The sword comes down on the pikeman that had been jabbing at him, flattening them like a panini press. A distant part of his mind tries to remember what exactly a panini is before he focuses on the fight again. He holds the weapon against the fallen hobs for a time to make sure they're dead, then straightens up. Catching the glint of metal in the distance, he covers his eyes with one hand before the guns go off and he's peppered with metal. Again, it's not enough to do much more than bruise him. He decides to go for the infantry next, spinning his sword in his hands until it's point down, then preparing to begin rapidly jabbing down at them. The hobs are in shock. Typically this is when they'd be celebrating a hard fought victory. A win, and an easy one with their training and numbers. Except they haven't gone against anything like Damion, and it's showing. If not in their efforts it's easy enough to read on their slick, wet faces. Despite the shock and awe of fighting the absolute unit that is Damion they redouble their efforts. The cavalry are already charging in, and slide by to graze Damion's leg with their spears. One squad of infantry takes this as their chance at an opening, and follows suit with another swift thrust. The loudest of them all prove to be the gunners as they let loose several shots that do little to the armored dragon. The second squad of cavalry comes around, and immediately stab Damion hard in the leg. Not much else, though. They roar and shout, amping themselves up to do it again. One even lost their pike on the charge, and ended up on the ground. The infantry don't stop, though. They scream something, and whatever it is fills them with a measure of pride. They stab, all in unison. Pinpricks to the dragon, but something they still aim for. The loudest and most painful thing of all comes from the siege tower. Damion can hear some voices inside shout something, and then comes a thunderous crack. From those slits in the tower cannos fire, and he's quickly and swiftly bombarded with shells of iron. The infantry that first attack keep at it, jabbing and stabbing at Damion. The gunners in their position and their little hawknest let off a hail of gunfire almost in synch with the falling rain. Okay. Those pinpricks are starting to add up. None of them are particularly bad on their own, but there are a LOT of hobs attacking him... and then the siege tower goes off. He grunts a little as iron shells slam into him, stumbling back briefly. Okay. There's the new priority. After he takes care of some of this bruising. He touches himself on the chest, channeling a bit of Glamour into himself with a low sigh. He can feel his superficial wounds fade, though there's some painful spots left it couldn't help with. He'll just have to bear it. He fixes eyes on the siege tower, gripping his weapon with both hands. The cavalry still at his legs keep at it. Even as one of their own is scrambling around and his mount runs off. They circle him, one jab coming after the other. Ineffectual as it may be, but it leaves Damion just a bit open. This leaves just enough of Damion out too far. Two squads come in, one after the other. The first actually gets through, and Damion can feel himself bleeding for the first time tonight. Another rounds the way to get him right in his left calf. All of this proves to be a valuable distraction for those in the siege tower. Another round of thunder and soon enough he feels it. Another volley of fired from the cannons that pop Damion over and over. The remaining infantry keeps it up, but each and everyone of them ends up missing the gargantuan Fairest, and barely avoid falling into the mud. The gunners are worse, though, and their shots sail by Damion before trying to take another shot. Yeah. This damage is adding up fast. And that tower is the worst of it. Keeping out of the way of those around him as best he can, he charges towards the tower and brings the sword overhead, arching down in a flaming half-circle as it bisects the tower down the middle. He grunts some, putting extra effort into it, and watches it fall away in two burning halves. Then he glares down at the enemies attacking him. Trying to decide which of them is the biggest remaining threat. The tower is plain wrecked by Damion's assault. Stone and wood goes crumbling down along with several of the hobhobs. They go sailing and screaming bloody murder until they hit the ground with wet, muddy splats. That turned out to be the straw that broke the camel's back. All the camels' backs. The infantry immediately start breaking apart and falling into disarray. The break ranks, drop their weapons, and starting running this way and that. A few even bump into the massive Fairest, and start shouting as they go the other way. While the mainline and frontline fall the gunners all the way at the castle continue firing. If nothing else they give some measure of cover to their fleeing, retreating, and panicking brethren. They let off line after line of shots, and all they do is simply tickle Damion if even that. As the hobs retreat, Damion raises a hand to shield his face to avoid a lucky shot to the eye or something similar. After a time, he turns to retreat back into the hedge, and go to wherever it was Hien planned to meet up with him after eliminating the Loyalists. They continue to try shooting at Damion as he leaves, and end up doing nothing more than maybe scuffing up his armor. The ones frantically running around only pay as much mind to Damion as they need to. They're caught up in trying to get away from him or simply get something close to structure back. Hien doesn't show up until about twenty or so minutes later after Damion. The Changeling is soaking wet, and he has a head on his hip. It hangs there by hair that's been tied around his belt loop. He looks the Fairest up and down, and it's a long way doing so. "Sounded like you had a whole lotta fun." Damion grunts a little and nods to him. "You could say something like that." He eyes the head on his belt. "Seems you found your man. Did he put up much of a fight?" Hien nods. "This'll be him." He pats the head, and then starts moving. "Mr. Robin was easy to find. He was caught looking out at you, and when the horns started blowing I sunk a sword into a spine." Again settling in beside the amphibious Lost, Damion nods. "That's good to know." He absently heals the bruising damage on himself with his Contract again. Though that leaves a fair amount of minor wounds here and there under his armor. "Indeed it is. I'll make sure the rest of the Freehold knows what you did here, too. If you're too bad off I can maybe give you some murmurleaf tomorrow." A shrug follows from the Lost. "Not gonna lie, though. You left a whole lotta big steps out there. Hopefully I didn't flood the place up too bad since they can always go back and live in that shit." He shrugs again. "Anyway, good job."