Operation K.L.O.M.P

[lordnythrax]

A poster found on tavern walls across Britannia...

OPERATION K.L.O.M.P.
(Killing Lots Of Monsters for Peace)

What is Operation K.L.O.M.P.?[/u]
Operation K.L.O.M.P. is an alliance of right-thinking adventurers, united in opposition to our new King Blackthorn's disastrous policy of peace with the lesser, monstrous races.

Oh, so you're just like those evil Humanists then?
Not at all. While the foolish humanists count themselves enemies of the elves and gargoyles, noble races whose presence has enriched Britannia, Operation K.L.O.M.P. is fully accepting of these enlightened peoples. Instead we reserve our ire solely for the monstrous races; orcs, ratmen, and the like, who have ever been a scourge upon all of us.

What does Operation K.L.O.M.P. do? What is that picture up top?
In it's first-ever sortie, adventurers working together under the banner of K.L.O.M.P. shelled via cannonfire and then burned the Cove Orc Fort, inflicting ruinous damage upon the foul denizens and reminding them that there shall be no peace with Britannia, regardless of what the new King believes.

What will that accomplish?
Currently our new King seems myopically interested in pursuing his hopeless pet project of kissing up to monsters, even as Britannia continues to riot and burn around him. It is the hope of K.L.O.M.P. to present him with the abject failure of this policy as a fait accomplis, leaving him with no choice but to focus his efforts on more worthy pursuits.

That sounds great. How do I join?
K.L.O.M.P. will be an ongoing operation with further missions in the future. (Ice Dungeon ratman fort, we're looking at you!) Announcements will be posted throughout the kingdom when a date and time is chosen, detailing how those who wish to offer aid may contact us.

Death to the unworthy!

Lord N.

[lordnythrax]

The first operation had been a smashing success. Setting sail from Britain aboard the ever so ironically named HMS Lord Blackthorn, the party consisting of the ship's captain Gaius, the bard Judas D'Arc, the winsome gypsy lass Alisiea, the devilishly handsome Lord Nythrax, and a mysterious elven girl of no established name had arrived at Cove in record time.



The ship was positioned near the shore. Grapeshot and potions of conflagration were dispensed to the crew. In order to maximize their effect, bait was needed to draw the foolish orcs into optimal range.



It was as Nythrax came racing out of the fort with dozens of orcs in pursuit that he noticed another adventurer. An archer had been making her way into the fort, but at the sight of the ruckus wisely decided to join Nythrax in his rush toward the ship.

"Get out of the way!" Alisiea nearly shrieked, the petite gypsy lass almost dancing in her excitement to fire her weapon. "Get out of the way of my gun!" Nythrax and the newcomer obligingly leapt aboard, and a devastating torrent of fire was unleashed on the pursuing horde of orcs.



The archer turned out to be a woman named Errolisi Razil, and she was known to Judas in some way, but there was little time for introductions. An enormous orc brute had thundered up to the shore and, frustrated at it's inability to reach the ship, it had begun hurling it's lesser brethren toward the deck bodily.

The call went out to repel boarders, even as arrows and grapeshot continued to ravage the massive orc doing the throwing. Even the largest orc is only flesh and blood, and soon they were all dead.



With the greatest of the orcs might slain by cannonfire, it was time for the true purpose of the raid. Leaving Alisiea and the nameless elven girl aboard to mind the ship, the rest of the party set out to enter the fort proper and do havoc.



It would be a very long time indeed before these orcs would consider trusting the kingdom of Britannia or its ruler, and the foolish peace initiatives of King Blackthorn had been dealt a sore blow indeed. It was not enough, though. Operation K.L.O.M.P. would surely continue.

[lordnythrax]

It was a quiet evening as the adventurers gathered at a small tavern in Britain. The word had gone out, and soon Lord Blackthorn's foolish peace initiatives would be rolled back again, and further still.

The stalwart bard Judas D'Arc, recently dubbed Claudia after being changed into a woman by an errant spell, stood ready, accompanied by his... her... faithful lover... or something... the busty and volatile mage Jolicia. They were joined by the hard-drinking and curiously-accented, yet dependable, paladin Anna Evanovich, as well as the questionably behatted archer and demon hunter Lucas Drachen, the gypsy warrior woman called Aingeal, and the leather-clad and rather sinister-looking elven trainer of beasts, Faeryl Tyr'athem.

The even more sinister-looking yet devilishly handsome Lord Nythrax stood ready to lead, his natural charisma and good cheer buoying the spirits of his companions.



Eagerly the companions set out for the infamous Ice Dungeon, intent on visiting mayhem upon the ratmen who dwelled within, fine retribution for the indignity of being forced to help the filthy creatures by their monster-kissing King Blackthorn.



In they went, and soon the dank cave the disgusting ratmen called home was alight with fire and filled with the screams and pleas for mercy of the degenerate creatures.



Blood was spilled and corpses were heaped into great reeking mounds as the adventurers ravaged. No mercy was shown as the name of Blackthorn was shouted. Let his next peace envoys attempt to explain it.



At last all was quiet and still, any survivors cowed into hiding amongst the wreckage.



Satisfied, the adventurers left to pursue other ventures, content that peace with Britannia was the last thing on the tiny minds of any ratmen that remained.