conversations: human
conversations:  The Invasion of Carthain: Day 1 
  
  We open on a battalion of the Aurilian Legion. Humans, elves, dwarves, some warforged, and a small mixture of other races all wear the shining silver clothes and armor of the Empire. Holy symbols of Auril (a golden sun behind a silver humanoid figure with its arms outspread in a welcoming embrace) adorn all uniforms, in tabards if need be. It’s a truly imposing sight for the terrorists occupying Carthain.
  
  Carthain is a mid-sized city with low, one to three story stone buildings. The city itself is out in the middle of an arid, rocky landscape. The city receives its water by way of underground wells. It is also surrounded by a high defensive wall replete with battlements.
  
  The invasion is being lead by Silverguard Ciciro Nell. Wearing full plate armor and carrying a massive tower shield and a mighty warhammer, he rides atop his white horse at the head of the battalion.
  
  Catapults sit behind the lines, and have been firing boulders and alchemist fire for the last few minutes, trying to pound away at the wall. So far, there’s been little sign of the enemy…
   
  “Advance units! Into the city. Open those gates,”  shouts the Silverguard.
  
  Captain Crais (you may laugh if you get it), a dark-skinned old wood elf commando that is in direct command of your squad as well as several others begins barking orders.
  
   “Okay you maggots! It’s time to earn the favor of Auril! Move move move!” 
conversations: SuperCracker:
conversations: human
conversations:  Victor stands on a boulder, looking over the battle lines at Carthain.    So different from the Capital.  It has a nice rustic appeal to it though...   he thinks to himself, but is quickly snapped back to reality by Captain Crais' orders.  He hops down from the boulder and brushes the dust off of his white battle robes, and makes sure his holy symbol of Auril and his Conjurer's badges shined.  Satisfied with his work he falls in with his group, but not before casting a quick spell of Mage Armor.  Upon completion, a quick blue sheen envelops him over his white robes before disappearing.
  
  Feeling slightly more confident now that he was encased in his arcane protection, he turned his thoughts to trying to figure out how the heck they were going to get those gates open, since the catapults didn't seem to really be doing the job.
conversations: SuperMuldoon:
conversations: human
conversations:  Asherion turns to regard the Captain as he shouts orders, having been until now calmly waiting for the order to go as he ran through sword combat forms in his mind. As Crais gives the command to advance, He draws the magically enhanced greatsword from his back and, advances along with the others. These rebels need to be brought to heel or forfeit their lives; after all, they futilely resist the Legion, even though Auril is the only Way, and the Legion is his righteous hand. With this thought firmly in mind, Asherion picks up his pace, lumbering along perhaps more smoothly than one might imagine after seeing him stand so perfectly stationary while waiting.
conversations: Asherion:
conversations: human
conversations:  It is always a moving experience for Gazardiel.  Back in the capital, he has trouble relating to the others.  But here he is amidst a sea of silver and gold, an army of Auril's faithful crusaders.  He liked to think it was no coincidence that he is blessed with silver hair and golden eyes, the colors of Auril, when in actuality it was just the fact that he was an aasimar.  At times he was proud of his bloodline, but it was mostly a cause of grief and isolation as he struggled with his differences from the others.  None of that matters on the field of battle though.  For now they are brothers, many of whom are depending on him for their lives.  And nothing makes him happier than serving his god, Auril.  These moments of servitude are the ones he lives for.
  
  Gazardiel awakes from the grandeur of the moment as his captain barks orders in their ears.  The sea of silver gradually begins surging towards the city walls.  Gazardiel moves in time with his brothers, eager to cleanse Carthain of its blasphemous rebels.  All in the name of Auril.
conversations: TsukikoJ:
conversations: human
conversations:  As Captain Crais barks orders at you lot, you can see that archers, mostly tan-skinned humans and pale elves dressed in leather armors, man the battlements of the city, firing at any troops that get within range. They are well-defended with sufficient cover, and seem to be the chief barrier in preventing the gate from being taken down by force.
  
  The walls themselves seem difficult to climb, but someone with great skill could possibly do so.
  
  Also, there may be alternate entrances you are unaware of, in case you wish to go scouting.
conversations: SuperCracker:
conversations: human
conversations:  Victor puts his hand on his chin in a thoughtful pose.   "If we were to storm the gates, I could make use of my spells to blind the archers, letting us get close to the walls relatively unmolested.  Though, I think that should only be used as a last resort - I much prefer finding an alternate way in.  Perhaps they have a back door?" 
conversations: SuperMuldoon:
conversations: human
conversations:  Asherion shrugs his massive shoulders in a mock human gesture, one of many such habits that he has acquired over the years. Whatever is decided, it needs be now. The battle is upon us.
conversations: Asherion: