The Let's Play Archive

Myth III

by GuavaMoment

Part 17: Battle to Myrgard







Connacht marches to Myrgard to meet with the Dwarves



Blip YouTube Part 2

Goons present:
Heron Guard
Twelve All Knowing Corbeau
Twenty-Six Cat Faced Dinictus
Two Wild Card Discospawn
Two Thousand Three Hundred Forty-Two MSPaint Adventure Nemo

Dwarf
Green Intern

Warlock
Cameron (who's a dick and turns out isn't even reading this thread after begging me to let him be a warlock. Fuck you Chunky.)

Narrator posted:

June 27th, 1434 A.E., On the road to Myrgard



A day after their audience, Emperor Leitrim agreed to send a small army to Myrgard in hopes of giving aid to the dwarves battling for their homeland. Despite the recommendations of his advisor and generals, the Emperor appointed Connacht to lead the contingent into the badlands.

Before the assembled army was to leave Llancarfan, the Emperor spoke to Connacht. He said that he was putting a great deal of faith into him-and that if he were to fail, the loss of troops might be the doom of Llancarfan. Connacht's only reply was, "I cannot fail. It is already written."



After weeks of marching, the army entered the badlands-dry plains of dust and stone where water was as scarce as game. The sun beat upon their brows like a hammer on an anvil. Several soldiers collapsed under the fatiguing weight of their armor and packs.

A distance ahead of the army, footprints were found in the soft sand-Ghol footprints. They numbered in the thousands, and by their direction, they were headed for Myrgard.

Connacht ordered his contingent to march at double-time in pursuit of the Ghol army. Although many thought him mad to rush headlong towards a vast army, they followed him with bleak resolution.



After more than four days of strenuous marching, the army crested a rise overlooking a sun-lit valley. And there they saw the enemy. A horde of Ghols, at least a thousand strong, sprawled out before them. Weapons and carrion were strewn about their camp. The oily smoke from their fires clouded the sky. Fences of sharpened palisades formed pens for the hundreds of wights that lumbered and shuffled in the heat. In the center of the host, a great black boulder dominated the valley floor. Rounded and shaped vaguely like a Ghol's head, it was being worshiped by the mass of feral creatures.

They were making preparations for war.

Connacht immediately formed a plan for a surprise attack. A small group would attack, and get the Ghol army to give chase. Then the remainder of the Llancarfan army would split-one half to attack the advancing Ghols and the other to attack their flanks-crushing the beastly army from two sides.

It was a sound plan. They just hoped that it would stand the test of battle.