VotS: Miracle on Ant Alley

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 6 -- The Waterworks]

> Looking at the numbers, Tramma began to shift her lyrics to a
> cautionary note about a “power of two progression”, and the importance
> of preserving “big booms” for later. However, either her words
> arrived too late, or High Priestess Laurelin was not a fan of this
> particular tune. No matter the reason, the elven priestess’ Cone of
> Cold spell quickly and efficiently exterminated the eight newly
> arrived ants from the north, even as a loud two tone chittering
> announced the arrival of SIXTEEN more from the west.

Behind the melee line, Laquendi was fuming. This was NOT where she had
intended to be. She was supposed to be in the thick of things, not
relegated to a back rank. However, she had a plan for that. Nipping
around the back end of the rearguard, she squeezed in between the elven
officer and the Cat Priestess, just far enough to see the onrushing Wall
of Ant rushing their way from the western exit of the four way intersection.

Counting the seconds precisely, Laquendi began to cast an Arcane spell,
and a moment later a veritable blast of razor sharp fragments swept down
the western tunnel. It was not enough to stop any of the sixteen ants,
but it certainly softened them up. And wisely, before the onrushing tide
of ant hit the melee line, she stepped behind the elf and Medicine Woman
again.

While Laquendi’s spell might not have dispatched any of the newly
arriving sixteen ants, it most certainly had managed to soften them up,
and the wave of ants did not fare well when they crashed into the melee
line. Everyone was waiting for the onrush, and side by side, fighting
“sword and board”, also known as weapon and shield, Ben and Laurelin
were well able to stand their end of the ant deluge, with the elven
priestess particularly enjoying the loan of her Ex’s powerful but seldom
used shield. And the “sword and board” pair were ably aided by Lomi
“batting cleanup” finishing off any gravely wounded ants. Finfin, too,
was faring well, his two handed falchion chopping down ant after ant as
he kept the large blade continually in motion, always both defending and
cleaving. But the defenders were still being pressed by the survivors of
the sixteen western ants when the vanguard of THIRTY TWO more ants began
to boil out of the cracks to the north.

“This is getting ugly,” Laurelin growled, and gave a nod of fierce
approval when her neighbours removed the last ant in her immediate
vicinity, buying her a critical moment to address the wave of thirty two
more ants about to overrun them from the north. She did not have time to
carefully measure the geometry of the tunnel intersection, and had to
take her best guess at volumes and areas. Her plan would likely pose
some risk to the Away Team… but far less than the onslaught of thirty
two ants about to roll over them.

Her Coldball was launched with the specific intention of detonating
against the far northern tunnel wall, just over where the stream of
thirty two ants were just finishing their climb up from the cracks
below. The freezing explosion expanded to fill the available space,
covering the entire northern and central sections of the intersection,
and even expanding slightly to the west and east.

And.. unfortunately, to the south where the Away Team melee line stood,
including herself. But that simply could not be helped. Fortunately, all
of the defenders were able to duck, twist, or swerve just enough to keep
themselves out of the icy blast. As were a few other ants on the
fringes. But the vast majority were caught in the full blast. Sadly,
Tramma’s lyrics about preserving booms had, at least in hindsight, some
merit; a Coldball was not as potent a spell as the earlier Cone of Cold
that had swept eight ants to their doom. Most of the thirty two
newcomers, and a few of the previous wave’s survivors were hit and
damaged, but all survived.

And all swarmed the melee line. Worse, the ants were not limited to
strict TWO dimensional thinking. Those that could not fit on the tunnel
floor began to skitter along the walls, threatening to swarm and
envelope the defenders.

On the right hand flank of the melee line, Jeyshann did not like her
position. She was exposed to ants from the front, ants from the side,
and even one or two from ABOVE, threatening her from the wall. As was
the Abbot off on the left flank, but HE was in armor and seemed to LIVE
for such battles. But fisticuffs were not Jeyshann’s preferred MO.
Particularly not when standing next to a handsome elf lordling with his
ant-chopper.

“Fin!” she yelled to her neighbour on the melee line. “Trust me?”

Finfin nodded abruptly, even as he beat aside ant bites and cleaved with
abandon. This did not seem the time to quibble that technically the Cat
Priestess really ought not to call him by that fond diminutive. But they
had more than one lover in common, and really, this was not the time to
debate semantics.

He heard the Cat Priestess chant a prayer of some sort, but he could not
spare the attention to see what she was about. But a moment later, he
felt her light touch on his shoulder… and suddenly it was FINFIN on the
right hand flank. He and the Cat Priestess had magically changed places.

Finfin nodded; this was a FINE tactical development. It put Jeyshann
having to only face one or two ants from her middle position in the
melee line. And it meant that it was now the elf who was threatened by
an entire quadrant of ants from nearly all directions.

Or rather, it was the ants that were now threatened by HIM. Most if not
all of the ants were well and truly softened up by either Laurelin’s
Coldball or Laquendi’s earlier shorter range damaging cone. And he had
the perfect weapon for this situation. Using a technique only available
with dedicated two handed weapons, unlike his signature arming sword, he
began to sweep his falchion before him, attacking several wounded ants
at once. He would not be inflicting grievous damage on any ONE ant, but
rather, a moderate amount on several… and given how wounded they were
from the earlier spellfire, that was a fine tradeoff, and ant parts
fairly flew around on his corner of the battle.

They were likely going to be able to finish off the survivors of the
frostbit thirty two… but a deafening chittering noise from the western
passage threatened the oncoming arrival of another SIXTY FOUR ants.

Ben’s corner of the battle was not quite as ant sparse as Finfin’s.
After risking a quick peek down the western passage at the veritable sea
of oncoming ants, he began to speak in Liturgical Quenya. And those who
could understand the language, either through training or through magic,
could understand his words. “Frankly,” the Abbot intoned, “it would take
a Miracle to get us out of this one.”

What happened next was, in every sense of the word, truly Miraculous.
The Abbot vanished from his spot in the melee line, only to appear in
the thickest part of the Ants’ Den. There, the ants swarmed all over
him, one catching him in its mandibles, while another two began to try
to pull his arms from his body in a sickening game of tug-of-war.

But then, lighting shone in the Holy Man’s eyes, and began to shoot
forth from every part of his body. Within moments, the entire tunnel
system in front of the Away Team defenders was filled with a thick
barrage of lightning, and a dull report of thunder suggested that the
lightning storm was extending into the underground ant warren,
destroying far more than “just” the ants that the defenders could see.