Appearance: Werewolf, but appears nearly Human with some wolf-like features. Blood Moon Evolution.
Race: Natural-Born Werewolf
Personality: Straightforward, honest, loyal.
Notes: Prefers solitude in his small forest called Gorewood. Any who threaten or trespass in his territory will find nothing but a gruesome demise. It is best to avoid his forest during a Blood Moon, lest you wish to anger a true monster and none have survived to tell the tale.
Weapon of choice: His own claws and teeth, strong enough to rip and tear Teslatic’s creations to pieces as well as make mincemeat of it’s soldiers. Ancient magic imbued into his claws and teeth allow him to hold back the forces of the Cabal and Ecclesia.
Army: Rumors say he is a one monster army.
The charging element will try somewhat to navigate around these spots- regardless of whether they come alight or not, they will not cease their charge- if anything, it only increases the fervor of the charge. The units behind just plan ahead to move around the spots, as they aren’t really threatened by them.
If anything, the Noblians have only made their now numerous problems worse.
(You kinky bastard-ette. If we catch anyone that doesn’t want to defect, you can have ’em :P stay the fug-mate away from my people tho)
the noblians lacked numbers, and technology, but their royal guard were renownedly disciplined.
“oh hell no, literally, i am quite fine falling only my own height, i’ve asked to be assigned to the agri-guard, we retake the great plains with the help of the cabal and control the food of empyria again.”
pearl and chaser form up with you again, as you delve into the tall standing fields.
( theeees )
Canid officer: “That’s just the way command hierarchy goes. No one wants their lead subverted, not even for the best of reasons. As for who they exactly are, alot of expeditioners’ve called in earlier than the end of their allowed absence. Guess they’re determined after all of what they’ve been hearing about the other houses, and what they’ve seen in person.”
Voss: “…Maybe we should as well?”
Canid officer: Sighing, he looks and rolls the last dregs puddled at the bottom of a wine bottle. “Maybe… What about you Blanche?”
The feline sergeant, Blanche: “Sure, better than sittin’ around all day gettin’ chonky.”
Voss, to the survivor: “What about you? Ready to practice falling out of the sky right into the Cult’s ravenous maws?”
A young deer raises a staff and her many archers ready.
Lun, a bit older, nearing his prime, crosses his polearm in front of his troops, signaling to ready but remain still.
A bird atop the trees raises a wing to halt- it would not yet be safe to fly. Not in this lightning.
Upon sight of the Noblians, the deer shall lower her staff, her undisturbed archers shall release a volley. She raises it again- they ready- she lowers it again- the loose another lethal volley.
On the Noblian side of things, they’ll witness a rain of of arrows in waves- a lethal distraction to the charging mercenaries from the treeline. The front is headed by several quicker species- big cats and horses, for instance.
Before contact, the equivalent of the Noblian frontline(since ambushes may have a lot of “front” and not a lot of “line”) will hear a terrifying whistling sound before being pelted with stones moving fast-enough to kill a horse(IRL, non-qnthro horse)
as they watch the road they find the carts moving up along it, only the normal guard complement… the next moment however lightning strikes come down, Noblian units were attacking the convoy.
(what’s a storm drum link is borked.)
“probably some handpicked force working for Indra directly, he doesn’t like it when soldiers have any higher loyalties, like to chief Matt.”
the night had blanketed the fields, and was only broken up by the lanterns and campfires of the uruk guards.
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