The Siege of Geets is Over!

"My most impotent and immortal lordships, through sheer terror and tribulation, you have survived."

The siege of Geets is over, crawl from under your weevil-riddled thrones and celebrate. The impossible has happened. Despite the attackers almost unstoppable assault. THE DEFENDERS HAVE WON!!!



A conflict of legends. The Baron's Awful Attackers, oozing limitless creativity, scoring an amazing 710 Garrison Points, were eventually thrown back by the Noble Defenders' dauntless comradery, and their score of an unbelievable 845 Garrison Points.

The Siege:

Soldiers from all over Geets heard the call, Defenders, punished by the initial onslaught, rallied more troops to the walls. Weighed down by the oaths sworn to friends, they took up arms and heraldry in such numbers that the Attackers began.. to falter.





But all was not lost, the Attackers kept coming. Dozens of war-machines raced towards the walls, inventions of such majestic deviance that the Defenders, once again looked hard pressed.


Trebuchets and catapults, built from creaking timbers, sent obscene carcasses over the battlements, flooding the streets with plague and misery, and yet the Defenders held on.

"It has been eighteen days since I paid my rent."

"I woke with a fever, recovering from an arrow wound sustained by sir Henri, when the Baron's hateful followers began constructing... the Pfishflinger."

"The support beams buckled as thousands of herring fell on our roof. Trout slapped wetly against the walls day and night, forcing our beautiful manse, home to the 118th, further and further into mud."

But help came for those poor Defenders, from out of the inner wall a torrent of frenzied architects, frothing at the mouths, rallied to their cause. As soon as a bastion was smashed opened by the Attackers, two more sprang up in its place. No matter what was thrown at the wall (fish), it miraculously held.

Until the Attackers began trying something a little different.

"The behemoth leapt hundreds of feat into the air, straight over our hoardings and crashed onto the ramparts. Its riders whooping and cheering as our men were cast from the walls, its giant club swung with enthusiastic glee.

"I fled to the millers outpost, a fortified windmill just outside Spudstraße."



"They were of little help, already occupied by a tugboat bent on murder."



"Cannon and ribald fired around me, the city was a ruin of burning siege towers and gore slicked palisades. I kept running, my rent tucked safely into my pocket, far into the inner wall and to the last line defence. "

Heroes Among Heroes:



"The Defenders last hope, a bizarre travelling group of theatrical menaces had set up camp outside the throne room. Their makeshift theatre, recreating the siege moment by moment for my Lord's dastardly amusement."

Completely unaware of what was coming their way.

"Pushed by more Lumps than I have ever seen, the Attackers greatest siege tower, smashed through the inner wall and headed for the throne room.

Its seemed without match, without mercy, without clothes!

It arrived, a small travelling theatre against the might of the Barons. The tower's bronze mask smashed down, pouring men-at-arms onto the stage.

"I saw battle fought. Too impossible to describe. So incalculably atrocious to even speak of it would render your ears inside out."



In the moment that the thespians and all the Defenders plans seemed lost. The tower, entertained by the best bit of violence it had seen in a while... began to applaud.

"Its hammering hands, slapped, pounding the Baron's men into mulch. I saw a crushing of actors, the pulverising of players and the mangling of men at arms. That thing was pulling itself apart from the very inside. Furiously rocking back and forward, shaking and bawling until everything.. even the ground under my feet was torn asunder."

And it was done, the siege was over, the last siege tower, carrying the Attackers hopes and dreams was no more, and the Defenders last bastion too, a pile of broken timbers, both sides demolished.

In the rubble, a crudely painted stage prop tottered. Leaning to almost pitch over, wobbling in the wind, and then ... falling back into place and standing strong. THE DEFENDERS HAD DONE IT. They had won. The tower remained, and GEETS had held.

"No matter the city was destroyed, no matter everyone was dead, no matter I didn't pay my rent. I had survived to tell this tale, and I say Geets stands strong."

The Lance, and with it, the right to Rule Geets belongs to you, MY LORDS.

Well Done Everyone:

What a challenge. I really enjoyed this one. I've learned a lot, and can't wait to try another. I much prefer a more narrative event than a ruthless competition.

Speaking of which!

Having watched the carnage from afar, our resident scribbler, Moritz (Blackcrabart) has picked two winners.

From the Attackers, he chose Uncool's Siege Tuber of Castle Nightshade.
From the Defenders, ProperTurnip's Community Theatre of Geets.

The Defender gets a cool illustration, the attacker... I'll work out what you get. Something cool.

"The city has changed, the damage is severe, broken siege towers litter our pockmarked walls, stories written in the piles of the dead.

Its a shame no one here can read".