Recent content by Kjaran Mak Aodha

Maybe four thousand had ventured out that morning to clear away what had been assumed to be a Kaliti raiding party. Just over half that now were stumbling back towards the siege camp and city, towards the dark clouds and raging storm. Pikemen, arbalists, unhorsed cavalry, they slogged on...

Ferdinand Vezzini wiped blood from his mouth and took a look around him. The tercio was still holding but anyone viewing it from the air would have seen how ragged the lines were or how chewed up the bastions looked. Soldiers leaned on their pikes for support, eager to grab any bit of a break...

The Sereti orc stared in horror at the stump of his arm. The backswing of the sword slammed into his face, putting him out of his misery. Kjaran let out a roar of triumph. He'd forgotten the orc in another couple of paces as he locked swords with a Kaliti infantryman. A combination of Kaliti...

The sky went dark for a moment as the first cloud of Kaliti arrows soared overhead. Kjaran tensed and hunched his shoulders. A moment later the screams started, the square was impossible to miss. The Kaliti had learnt from centuries fighting them, only a fool rushed in. You shot every arrow you...

The advancing lines of the Empire made for an intimidating sight as they advanced, darkening the horizon with their numbers. Kjaran squinted, able to make out some of the units now. They had their standard levies, Kaliti loved the spear and bow but the orcs with their great weapons were more...

Experienced outriders and borderers knew how to fight light cavalry at their own game. The spoilt sons and daughters of Torleon who pranced about in gaudy armour did not. Their lines grew more ragged by the second as they chased after the feigned retreat. They were led one way then the next but...

The tercio pushed out from the Torleon camp with all the speed of a glacier. In full marching order, it resembled a moving castle with the vast central square of pikemen and bastions of crossbows and halberds at each corner. The wind flapped the banners in the breeze as it began the ponderous...

It was said that two things were always certain in Cortos, war and taxes. The city-states along the coast and interior thrived on trade and commerce but their fractious nature meant violence was never far away. Every city-state had its small standing army which was swelled in wartime with the...

Kjaran would have been off the ship in past years in a flash but he was slow to move this time. Only the prospect of alcohol got him up. He was tired and still processing the fight earlier on. He was always tired after the battle madness. For want of a better option, he followed the others. At...

"Healing's easy, bandage them if they're bleeding, carry them back on their shields if they're dead". They'd probably burn their own dead and leave the northerners for the wolves and carrion. The bodies would be stripped of mail and weapons, a fortune in barren lands like these. He wasn't sure...

Kjaran stumbled a little as a broad shouldered northern woman shoved past him, pushing the other boat out and clambering in herself. He took a deep breath and kept calm. Sighing, he forced a sad smile on his face and nodded at Ivar "I will" he said, grunting as he put his weight on it, shoving...

Kjaran paused in his looting as the sound of singing grew louder. The warning shout from the pirate showed that he hadn't been imagining it though he'd been thinking of the song from a different place, over twenty years ago. A line of warriors, men and women, was emerging from the treeline...

Kjaran ignored the slap to the shoulder and the order. He was deaf to the world for now, his body numb after the hours of fighting. Dull eyes turned to the boats coming into shore. The voice came across and it snapped to into his brain. Eyes probed the treeline, maybe a half mile distant...

Kjaran wept. He'd awoken with a start to find himself on his knees amidst the dead. Some of the bodies still squirmed and moaned, the sounds pitiful. The aftermath of a battle was a terrible thing. They'd left Ulrikstead two days ago, a collection of the local huscarls and mercenaries hired...

"Once" was the response "But it was dark, raining, and I was drunk. Might be it had been a storm". He'd seen enough strange things but thankfully a dragon had never been one of them. "They're meant to exist though, further up in the mountains. Sleeping until the end of days" so his own tribal...