Fixed to the notice board, a rather short parchment is silently added. [SIZE=+2]Freldo's account of the fall of Pranzis[/SIZE] Reported in his point of view I stood on the Lorindar Docks playing to the silence a violin borrowed. Not even the great commotion at the docks where the feet of living legends walked disturbed the silence. Silence as more of us flowed in by the boat full from Karthy - hope in our eyes, belts of potions and parchments at hand, armor and weapons polished, bows and leathers slick with new resin as Katrien's violin marshalled the dragoncalled. I finished my song knowing that all was set, the beating of the ocean on the docks stopped, as if at the end of a great breath, Layonara held it and shuddered. I blinked in what seemed like an eternity and turned to face the coming wave of doom. The fifty or so that were brave enough to answer the call at Lorindar and stood ready. It was to be the finest hour for some of us, for the others, a simple tale to tell. Amoung those, cries for information and declarations of intent and two violins desperately fighting the ensuing chaos. As the group reached it's climax of anticipation, a bloody soldier entered from the north gate, Pranzis was under seige. In waves we advanced to the city, resistance was met and quickly eliminated at a terrible cost, it was obvious to me that we were not headed for a victory. My group, better organized and united, took the west gate and formed a line just inside the gates with troops from all of Dregar and Mistone. Men from Leilon, Haven, Spellgard and some that I had even seen in Hlint were there, fear glistened in their eyes but their stance never betrayed their training. A wail came forth as the dwarves that took up Master Kobal's call, stationed outside the gates, engaged the vanguard of the invading army as I played for the lines to keep them from despair. The defenders were repelled as the a stream of wounded were brought in and taken to the citadel for care. Enormous dwarven defenders whose arms were as thick as trunks stricken in fear as though death had only spared them to frighten those that were guarding the city. Despair took over the lines and my song could no longer maintain morale until Katrien's violin began echoing in the mighty city. Resolve and tenacity was restored as the soldiers along the walls stood fast and the army stood strong. At the peak of Katrien's song, the gates were torn open and the first wave was upon us. The shaking of shields, the dry rings of swords, arrows and bolts, spells and curses flew wild as we faced our foe. The line stood strong under Matilda's command, not to many casualties, and they were forced to withdraw, as our spirits started to fly, cries for help from the east gate rung out - they had been beaten back. I rushed to aid the wounded only to hear that the merchant's district was also being breached and I went to take my song to the defenders positioned there and the invasion from the square was repelled. I tried to stand with the east gate defenders but their ranks were in disarry, their leader failed to hold the line, the troops and morale but still stood. No matter how much I tried I couldn't gather a single ear so I returned to the west gate in the hope that something could be done to repell them for good and assemble a group to retake the east gate. As I reached the west gate a voice called for our surrender and they were sending us a gift in the form of the sharp twang of a catapult, the body of Varka, a dwarven rager fell in a heap near the gate. He had rushed forth to challange their general, Boerger to single battle. Slain and dejected after being crushed by his foe, Varka told us of the army beyond the gate and ushered us forward in a desperate charge to break their legion - well for him to say but the rest of us wished to defend the city and wait for a miracle, a common abuse of feelings of hope. At this moment, I noticed a few gathering around Katrien, scrying and seeing with arcane eyes the army beyond the gate and to my despair... The army was a real one, thousands strong - dwarves and devils from Bloodstone's troops ready to descend upon us in a moment's notice. My heart broke for I knew Pranzis was to fall, I stayed quiet and tried to bolster morale despite knowing that the end was near. I played harder and decided to give the eastern defenders hope and rushed to their lines as the sieging army's horns signaled the rush of another wave. Market Garden fell. East Gate fell. West Gate was over run. We fled to the Guild discrict and prepared, in tight formation for a long defense. A single figure approached us, rapier in hand stabbing the bodies of our fallen comrades in arms. We were to surrender or suffer General Boerger's. We chose to suffer. And we did. A hopeless battle ensued as we were beaten back towards the castle, holding the invaders back only enough to protect the civilians, bodies of the called littered the streets as the final defense was held outside the castle gates. The doors were sealed and refugees were ushered into secret passages away from the city as the last few of us closed the gates into the underground away from Pranzis. The Seat of the Crown, The Mighty City of Pearl and Silver, The Beacon of Civilization, Pranzis fell to hordes of dwarves, demons and devils.
