Open Chronicles Rumors of War

[Tinus Damos]

Alcazar- Kellish forces

Stones and bolts flew with experienced precision. The walls would be peppered but most of the stones were aimed for the buildings behind them. The aim being to draw forces from the walls to put out fires and force citizens away from the fighting. A brutal tactic but one that held more mercy than most would give. The more dangerous they made the site of assault the less civilians would be there to be caught up in the fighting. The bolts aimed towards the clumps of archers and crossbowmen defending the gates.

But things did not proceed smoothly. They never did. Already scouts were reporting sightings of a relief force heading towards them. The Kel commander ordered their own horse archers be sent out to slow their advance by constantly peppering them with hit and run attacks. Infantry moved to grab pikes or scorpion bolts, which ever was available, to create a defensive line for when the enemy cavalry finally arrived.

The siege engines did not stop. There was no need. Their plan of attack would continue.

================

Alcazar- Tinus

The ground shook each time a stone struck the wall or city. It was unnerving. Tinus would rather be up on the wall dealing with the stones and bolts and arrows than being stuck down here. Their scholars were using each shake as a means of measuring the passage of time. He did as well. They all did. They had to wait. They needed to wait for the defenders to be fully distracted before they emerged.

Another shake occurred. The sound of crossbows being loaded and weapons drawn could be heard. It was time. The ones at the lead began to dig out the last bit of dirt before they touched stone. The block for forced away and the light of day poured in from above.

Tinus pulled himself out of the ground, and immediately had his crossbow aimed in front of him. He advanced forward. The loud swooshing of a stone flying through the air was followed by the shaking boom of it crashing into a nearby building. The kel all took cover as debris was thrown all around.

A hand signal was given from the one leading his group. Once more he advanced forward with his crossbow aimed before him. They burst forth towards the wall. Defenders on the interior side didn't notice them. Not until they loosed their bolts and screams of pain began to get muffled by the chaos.

Tinus loaded another bolt. Shot. A defender dropped. Lung pierced. They would be dead from the lose of blood soon enough. His aim was to take the tower by the gate. Other Kel forces emerging from their holes were taking their own defensive structures along the wall.

The stones and bolts and arrows from their kin on the other side never ceasing as they did.

Kjaran Mak Aodha Lodin Hjornsson Gerra Douglas Haley

 

[Douglas Haley]

Dust was their great mark, dust was their announcer - a prophet of war sent high into the sky. Anyone with more than a few battles under their belt would know what it meant; heavy calvary on the march, and quick. Yet it would be only one, as the combined forces of Gerra moved to the south and build pressure - Douglas and the Band of the Lion followed the plateau to flank around, to begin harassing the enemy forces besieging the city.​

​

No doubt it would take longer to assault the city than to finish the battle in the field - no doubt even if it didn't, without a relief force they would only trap themselves behind those walls with less supplies, less comfort, and more enemies abound. Douglas considered this - considered that if their plan was going to succeed they likely had a relief force coming as well.​

​

That, or it was poorly planned.​

​

He frowned, his horse digging at the dirt beneath them as his force was in a full run. His second in command rode up next to him and began to speak - his helmet bouncing against his hip as they spoke tactics.​

​

"Gerra's forces are moving in from the South - should leave us a gap towards the north. If they break off to intercept, they'll weaken their flank in his direction, if they don't - we have a mostly clear path towards the siege camp of Alcazar.", he yelled over the sound of the charge.​

​

Douglas glanced to him, nodded, and couched the lance in his armpit. There was a minor force between them and their goal - outriders and harassers from Tinus Damos and the offshoot forces of Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal . Douglas need not break the siege himself - but putting pressure on their rear would break the moral of the men inside; all he needed to do was reach them.​

​

Being surrounded never did well for men's confidence in a battle, afterall.​

​

"Wedge!", he cried out, and the officers of his band followed suit. The wedge was formed, shields raised towards the outside to protect from the harassment - and their charge continued. Only a few minutes, and they'd be at the enemies' throat.​

 

[Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal]

"My lady, there's enemy cavalry moving from the northwest of us to the siege camp-"

Dianaimh's gaze might not have been fit to kill but it would have certainly caused grievous harm and injury. "Can't you see I'm fucking busy?" there was more warmth to be found in the tundra than in her right now. The sorceress had chosen to march with the infantry and could not care less whether the siege train or its engineers were hewn down by rampaging horsemen.

She resumed her slow chanting, drawing strength from the earth as she walked. Mages of yore might have been able to shield entire armies from arrows, swords, and worse but it would probably kill the caster attempting it. She and her fellow magic users would have to focus on countering any magical assault, the soldiers could look to their own defence against more mundane threats.

Ideally they'd counter that threat for her too. It was one thing to spar with opponents on another plane of power, far less entertaining and much more deadly to worry about having your head specially chosen for a sweeping stroke by a goblin swordsman. The massed ranks of pike and crossbow did give her some comfort on that front at least. She had her own battle to worry about, she could worry about the lesser creatures once the enemy mages were scoured from the field.

And they were out there. She'd always been good at smelling magic, even when her own talents for using it had been less than stellar. She could feel the hum of power from the others on her side (supposedly, witches and warlocks are by nature, a suspicious lot) but there was more out there, too far off to pinpoint it was there.

It was like a clear lake that someone tossed a stone into, you could sense the ripples. No doubt her unseen adversaries could feel it too.

 

[Ashuanar]

It was only moments after the command had been given did it reach Ashuanar's ear.

"Very well."
​

A subtle motion from Ashuanar. The slight turn of his head was seemingly all he needed to issue his order. With it, a rather eccentrically robed individual set just to the Vizier's left was prompted into action. With a brief display of magic, a green plume of fire rose a few meters overhead and then disappeared.

---

Of those at the forefront of the right flank, all departed save for one. The one who had been riding directly to Ashuanar's right had be Al'Daim, formerly captain now general. He would take command of the the majority of Ashuanar's force at the right, those of the cataphracts and infantry, and continue forward with the rest of the army. The Vizier himself and his personal contingent - a force not terribly vast - of far lighter cavalry all snapped forward, carrying on straight ahead before veering across the plain. There, the Lazulari skirmishers were likely in danger of dying from boredom if they occupied Torleon's outriders for much longer.

---

Gerra | Mirielle Merlon | Douglas Haley
Hanuman | Visha Sofka | Aratus Seldomus ​

---

Ormr | Kara Orin​

---

Kjaran Mak Aodha | Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal | Tinus Damos ​

 

[Hanuman]

Hanuman laughed too, and with a sideways glance to Idrix Vale, the bespectacled man forced a dry chuckle.

The curly-haired mercenary was silent as he watched the skirmish below.

The Hyena-faced men some way behind them all began to laugh, too, as if prompted by the four-armed behemoth.

"Go on then," said Hanuman as he and his pupil's laughter died, "take these men and go make the dead outnumber the living."

Visha, new to bloodletting, would do fine, Hanuman thought. She had killed easily enough, and when the Warchief forced the Dead Men to cull themselves down to fifty, the girl had somehow survived the ordeal. To see her growth was exciting.

"Captain, Idrix, please come with me. We should make friends with the - what were they again?"

"The Kaliti, Warchief," chirped Idrix.

"Yes, the Kaliti. Led by..."

"Gerra, Warchief. He has many titles."

"Oh-h-h. Let's meet him."

As Visha rode at the front of the band of killers, fully intent on wreaking havoc in the battle - sides be damned, Hanuman took himself and his two confidants to meet the God-Emperor.

****​

"Emperor!" A sand elf, wrapped head-to-toe in tribal garbs, knelt before Gerra. "There is a... a beast that wishes to meet you."

Visha Sofka Gerra

 

[Gerra]

Gerra glowered down from his motionless chariot at a messenger. The two massive golden horses pulling his chariot snorted their hooves and stomped impatiently.

“Bring him to me.”

The Kaliti vanguard rushed around them like a sandstorm. The emperor looked toward their onslaught, fingers tightening on the chariot’s reins.

Arrows whistled down in dark clouds upon the Cortosi pike square as the Kaliti archers sought to whittle down their number to soften the oncoming clash.

Blue orcs, those denizens of the Sereti mountains, led the charge wielding gleaming Kherkhanite steel. They thundered across the distance toward the Torleon pikemen, their guttural death songs rising up to the heavens as they beseeched Kuljuk, their mountain eagle god, to meet their ends in gore and glory.

Bolts from Cortosi arbalests shattered in a shower of splinters upon their armor, others pierced through chain and padding, dropping some but leaving more implacable warriors to charge onward, bodies studded with crossbow bolts.

They barreled into the pike line, swinging their enormous swords and swatting at pike hafts with a fearsome rage. Some impaled themselves on the Cortosi hedge, pikes skidding along their breastplates to wedge into throats or shoulders, or skewering those wearing scale mail entirely.

Behind them poured the tide of Kaliti footmen, lightly armed and armored with shield, spear, and sword, whilst the archers at the rear kept up the grim rain.

Warriors from a tribe of Ngonya Beastmen broke off from the main force and sought to flank the square, but soon found that impossible and contended themselves with trading javelins for crossbow bolts in the distance between them.

The elephants and unengaged cavalry held back.

Mirielle Merlon Ashuanar Hanuman Visha Sofka Kjaran Mak Aodha Kara Orin Ormr Douglas Haley Kjaran Mak Aodha
Tinus Damos Lodin Hjornsson Aratus Seldomus

 

[Mirielle Merlon]

The great armies started to crash against each other like jaws clamping shut. Ashuanar's harassing cavalry — the Lazulari skirmisher's deliverance — barely made it through the middle of it all before the violence began at scale and in earnest. Mirielle and seventeen surviving Lazulari horsemen managed to break away and withdraw to the northwest. The horses could keep fighting forever; it was the men who tired, and their quivers were close to empty. Light cavalry maneuvers looked very different when you had to rely on your sword and spear rather than your bow. And the Lazulari had paid the price of claiming first blood: they'd lost almost half their contingent.

As the horse-warriors conferred, Mirielle took the opportunity to scry again. The picture was fast becoming chaotic.

Once again, she sent Gerra a vision in the nearest goblet, bowl, pool, or puddle.

Gerra Ashuanar Hanuman Visha Sofka Kjaran Mak Aodha Kara Orin Ormr Douglas Haley Tinus Damos Lodin Hjornsson Aratus Seldomus

 

[Ormr]

The Dustcloud left behind by the Company of the Golden Lion had done well to conceal the Half-Giant after he descended from the height of the plateau.

On the ground Ormr could see the army of the Imperial Host begin to engage the forces of the Cortosi Lord. Kara Orin had not lied to him. Surely this would be a battle that songs would be sung of and tails told in the aftermath. To take part would please his Divine Patron.

While the Blue Orcs and Ngonya Beastmen engaged the Pikemen of Cortoss and the Cavalry of either side fought to best their foes the Half Giants eyes set upon one thing. His benefactor, Orin wished him to do battle with the Bastard of the Ashen King himself and Ormr would do so but he sought the biggest prize first.

As he came from the dispersing dust cloud, only marginally aware of the light cavalry of Mirielle Merlon may have seen him Ormr hoisted the enormous spear he'd been toting in his right hand. The Spear came up over his right shoulder which he'd wheel backwards slowly as he took a step forward, planting his left foot at the fore....

"Eogorath, bless my arm so that I may sacrifice a beast to the foot of your table!"

...his voice was like thunder, roaring and echoing loudly and as he yelled Ormr would take another step forward, planting his right foot ahead and turning his shoulder ahead. He'd extend his arm, the Spear released from his grasp in the process and hurled ahead. It would fly like a bolt from a ballista, charged with the energy the Half Giant had summoned and sent to sail over the Imperial Hosts reserve.

If the Elephant it struck in the side did not die outright, skewered on the enormous piece of oak then it would surely panic and cause all manner of chaos in the back flanks of the army.

---

Gerra Ashuanar Hanuman Visha Sofka Kjaran Mak Aodha Kara Orin Douglas Haley Tinus Damos Lodin Hjornsson Aratus Seldomus

 

[Visha Sofka]

"Last one down the hill is a rotten egg!" Visha called to the Dead Men assigned to her. And she wasn't about to play fair. Nope! Just as she started down the switchback of the plateau she ignited a little firewall in her wake, forcing the Dead Men's horses to vault over it if they wanted to follow. Serves them right! For what she didn't know, but they were served and there was nothing they could do about it!

Visha rode down to the base of the plateau--and she wasn't the rotten egg, ha! Alright. Time for these Dead Men to make dead men out of live men. And time for her to light some asses on fire--that was her second favorite pastime!

And look at that big clump of infantry over there! How could she possibly miss? See, most College students would be like, "Oh no, I can't, that's terrible, they're people with hopes and dreams" and that's how they could possibly miss. Idiots! Here's a little secret: just imagine how sad they are all to not be on fire! They could all be their own little bonfires, and they needed YOUR help! Now you can't miss! See? It's as easy as licking a fireplace.

Visha held out a hand, stopping the advance of the Dead Men. They were all some distance from the main engagement. "Wait, wait, wait. Watch this, watch this."

Her staff floated off to her side, its tip sparking up a smoldering glow. Flames ignited in her skyward palms. She took a breath. Then started casting, pumping one hand up, then the other as the first went down, up, down, up, down, again and again, each time a hand was pumped up a fiery mortar was launched.

And she sang, pumping her hands and launching the magical mortars to the cadence of her tune:

"♫ ALLLLL - THE - MILKDUDS - SITTIN' - ON A - RAINBOW!
ALLLLL - THE - MILKDUDS - DANCIN' - IN A - TREE!
WAIT - JUST A - MINUTE!
WHO - BROUGHT - THE - BAGPIPES?
HERE - COMES A - BIG BOOM - SPECIAL - FROM - ME! ♫"

Visha was panting. Sweating. That was a lot! But it was going to be SO worth it!

The mortars arced high and far. Started their downward trajectory toward the mass of fighting infantry. Kaliti, Cortosi--it didn't matter too much for Visha's aim.

Kjaran Mak Aodha Ashuanar Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal

 

[Kjaran Mak Aodha]

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 had at them first to try and thin out the ranks enough. Then you came in to mop up the survivors.

Learning was a double edged sword. The Cortosi knew the playbook as well. You held your ranks and you made them break on the pikes. You shot every bolt you had and hoped they decided today wasn't a day for bleeding. Sometimes it even worked.

The Kaliti seemed eager to close in today and the crossbows went to work, paying back in blood for every yard of ground. The orcs didn't care, the battle madness was on them and they surged towards the packed lines of pikemen. The chosen amongst them hefted massive swords for linebreaking and they roared guttural howls as they closed in.

"For what we are about to receive" mourned a calm voice.

An irresistible force hit an immovable object. The line buckled in places but it held. Such was the Kaliti fury that some of the lead warriors were skewered on the pikes. Others were trampled by their comrades. The smarter ones dove under the hedge and grappled with Cortosi swordsmen, trying to tear open a hole. Here and there they breached it and pikemen dropped their main weapon to draw blades.

Beastmen swarmed at one flank but their kind preferred open battle rather than a slaughter. They contented themselves with flinging javelins in at the tight ranks and doing their best to dodge the returning crossbow fire.

Kjaran had a boring first few minutes. His section of the line was holding fine and the soldiers stabbed forward with pikes, heaping the bodies in front of them. Things only started to get interesting when Kaliti knifemen crawled in under the hedge to gut some of the front ranks. A gap formed and Kjaran led a dozen others to plug it.

The Kaliti was rising from a still twitching pikeman when Kjaran's blade hacked into his back. The mercenary kicked away the fresh corpse and barrelled into the next two with a wordless roar.

The sky went bright and he stumbled, luckily so did his opponent as half the fighters were blinded for a second.

Kjaran wasn't quite sure what happened next but in recollections later he swore it seemed like a series of small suns had descended on them. There was some sort of thunderclap as the first mortar detonated against the shield though stray flames dropped down on the fighting morass. It was enough to knock him and plenty of others right on their arses.

The magical ward stopped the second one. And the third. The fourth, the fifth, the rest?

For a brief moment, several dozen soldiers got to experience what it was like on the surface of a sun. A very brief moment. The mortar detonated with enough force to send bodies flying through the air. Others ran screaming, gone up like flaming torches. Most managed a handful of steps before collapsing, a Sereti orc set a new type of record by running a score of paces while still screaming as his skin melted off.

The next one landed right in the middle of the Kaliti formations. The one after that went right for the Cortosi square. Another went flying past the battle entirely and only succeeded in scorching an ant nest, an event which chronicles of neighbouring hives would in generations to come label as the Wrath of the Gods.

 

[Lodin Hjornsson]

Lodin's heart pumped with adreniline as the two armies closed the gap on each other. The ground trembled under thousands of footsteps and the distinctive loud clinging and clanging of armour was all rythmatic to the mad howling Nord. This was what he lived for, that last moment of malicious awe before the violence, the killing and slaughter. Its just a split second before the meat meets the metal, where all one's senses explode. For some, time flowed down, others it all went in a flash. Usually for Lodin, the world would slow as he swayed into battle with his iron cudgel. But this time...... this time there was a flash.

Lodin was robbed of his sight, his hearing deafened by a massive explosion and the hot concussive force had hurled the Nord backwards. He could feel the entirety of his exposed skin burning, the pain was severe enough that he could feel it through his intoxication and it forced him to hurl a gut wrenching scream. A scream that was drowned by many that ripped through the battlefield.

The Nord panicked, scrambling to his feet with his hands still gripped to the large iron cudgel. Glimpses of shadows and sparkles of light were starting to form, his hearing was coming to for all that was good for. Battle was loud and all one could really hear was screaming and the clashes of metal. He felt a hand grab his left arm, the very contact to his own skin intensified the burning pain making the nord jolt away. Lodin could not tell who it was that was grabbing at him, but he was most certain that he had cracked its head open as he could feel the shattering of skull vibrate through his blunt weapon as he brought it down to bare and then something crumpled at his feet. Lodin gave it another wack for good measure, not knowing or even caring if it was a Imperial or Cortosi.

 

[Douglas Haley]

The Lion charged - the outriders and fiends sent to harass them doing minimal damage against their hardened armor and mounts. Were they to extend this, however - it would no doubt destroy their combat effectiveness; so instead, they simply charged onward. Past the enemy, towards the city to relieve it - and directly into the spear wall built to stop them.​

​

In the distance he could see the make shift phalanx. They were good soldiers - shields and spears ready to gouge any horseman that got too close. Their armor in a full charge towards it would decimate the line however - but the losses incurred, if not to their men then to their horses, would be severe. Still; a Mercenary band rarely made its fame from playing it safe.​

​

He called out in a voice that bellowed command;​

​

"Charge!"​

​

His forces, in their wedge led by him, would slam into the spear wall - no doubt decimating it just as much as it would decimate his own forces. Douglas's own mount was stabbed deep to its equestrian heart, and all he could see was the dirt and hooves of those around him. He spun as he landed, and despite the noise and violence now around him quickly moved to stand. His lance was pointless in these close proximity, so instead he pulled from his scabbard his sword - Delonda, good castle forged steel.​

​

It bit into the nearest man with a harsh *thwack* before he pushed them off the blade with his foot. Another, a second, and a third fell soon after as he began to draw in heavy breaths to maintain himself. His forces were charging through the camp - those that were not killed upon the initial charge - and the rest were near him.​

​

"Focus on the siege weapons! Break them where they stand!", he demanded.​

​

Tinus Damos​

 

[Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal]

Dianaimh felt the magical assault before she saw it. The sudden flare of power came at them so fast that there was barely time to strengthen the wards. Even if they had done more, it probably wouldn't have been enough. The first couple of blasts hit like a gutpunch, the third, fourth, and fifth went for the knockout.

Dianaimh landed on her knees, gasping for air. Her hands clutched at the ground for support. She was deaf and blind to the screams of maimed and tormented soldiers, right now she was trying to cope with a magical assault that had come out of nowhere.

She gulped in air to lungs that had felt afire a moment before. Steeling herself, Dianaimh pushed upward to rise on shaky legs, her hands balling into fists as cold rage replaced nausea and pain.

Elegant was not a word she'd have used to describe her spellweaving, she relied on brute force too often over subtlety. That was exactly what she went for now, abandoning the ward to lash the far hillside and plateau edge with lightning. She scoured it, firing blasts of power at random in an effort to weasel out her adversary. Visha Sofka

She raked her hand across the air before pulling it down to her side, a beam of charged light mimicking the movement as it cut a fragment of the plateau edge.

 

[Ashuanar]

Ashuanar had a knack for putting himself in precarious situations. Today was no different it seemed, as steering his calvary right in between the two encroaching forces was not necessarily the best idea, but it was much faster than veering around the rear - which had been his first thought.

No time for that.

He didn't become Vizier by playing it safe, and this was no time to change. But in bringing his forces to aid the Lazulari withdrawal he'd inadvertently placed his company in a more dangerous position than he'd imagined. A gentle pulse from the armband he wore, which he'd learned was a warning of unexpected magic near to him. It was far too late, however.

Just as they'd crushed the remaining few of the Cortosi calvarymen that hadn't fled with their arrival, nearly half of the Sipahi force was obliterated by several wayward mortars, with the survivors left in a disorganized panic.

---

Gerra | Mirielle Merlon | Douglas Haley
Hanuman | Visha Sofka | Aratus Seldomus ​

---

Ormr | Kara Orin​

---

Kjaran Mak Aodha | Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal | Tinus Damos ​

 

[Tinus Damos]

Alcazar- Kellish Forces

The approaching cavalry did not slow even with arrows and bolts and stones peppering them the entire way across the field. The dust from their charge rising high. They were determined to come crashing into the defensive line that the Kel had set up. It was a suicidal assault. A great idea if these forces were regular soldiers or levies that could be broken by fear and their forces scattered. But that was not what they Kel were. They were warriors that refused to break.

So when the charge came crashing into the infantry line, they would find pikes and scorpion bolts being thrust into them. Bodies advancing into them to bog them down and trap them. Hands grabbing at riders to drag them off their mounts. When one man died the next was already moving to take their place. Their masked faces held no fear of death. It was costly to them, but they would make it more so to these men that had dared attack them.

The Kel horse archers circled around the mass of infantry and cavalry ready to cut off and run down any of the cavalry that tried to escape or maneuver away. They had no plans on letting any of them get away.

========
Tinus

His advance forward proved to go fairly unnoticed. Something other than the siege was happening outside the walls. Voices could be heard screaming but it was too hard for him to make it out. They didn't need to know what was happening though. Their job remained the same.

So he loaded his crossbow and rushed into the nearest guard tower. A soldier was climbing up the stairs. His bolt was let loose. The soldier nearly slipped and fell off the side with a yelp of pain. Quarters too close now for the ranged weapon. He tossed it aside and drew his falchion and dagger. Up the stairs he rushed, shoving the wounded man over the edge. More soldiers showed up having heard the commotion. They could only come down one at a time, but stairs were no place to fight. There was no advantage for either side here only the same issues.

Tinus had to fight. The soldiers refused to get out of his way. So they clashed. Metal parrying metal. A dodge here. A dodge there. He got one of their belts in his hand so yanked hard as he tried to flatten himself to the side. The soldier began to roll down the stairs. The next swung so he ducked then struck their leg. They slipped and followed their friend.

Rinse repeat and narrowly avoiding falling himself all the way up. At the top was the wall and it was in chaos. Other Kellish fighters were engaged with the defenders. Blood was being spilled all over. They might have fewer numbers but their skills were greater. This gave them the advantage fighting on the narrow walls.

He threw himself into the fighting as well. He had to prove his worth and try to speed up the operation. Soon enough he heard the sounds of gears, chains, and wood all creaking and moving. The gates were being opened. A horn sounded off from their camp outside the walls. Their forces there charging towards the opened up gap.

Not much longer. Tinus hoped it would not be much longer till they could get the city to surrender. There was a battle raging outside all too close to them and their employer might need reinforcements.

========
Alcazar- Kellish Forces

The gates of the city began to open. The Kel commander began to bark orders. A horn was sounded. Their infantry that had been moving to the wall with ladders and rams left the equipment behind and charged towards the gate. Their plan had worked and it was time to take the city.

The engineers on the siege weapons were ordered to stop their assault and to take up their arms. They would join the fight against the enemy cavalry. So they grabbed their weapons and went.

Douglas Haley Gerra Kjaran Mak Aodha Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal Mirielle Merlon

 

[Aratus Seldomus]

Thelios Arrives

Alcazar

Thelios had no walls.

It was a common story told to travelers, and it was true. But in reality, it did have walls. It had a wall made of flesh and steel. No raider, no army, no marching forces had come close to taking the city. It had a distinct advantage of being on a peninsula, as well as a steady naval force.

But more importantly, the Athallians that populated Thelios had never let an invading force much more than the city's outskirts.

And the armies of Cortos were experiencing why that was- first hand. Joined at the request of the Emperor, Gerra, Thelios had sent a small detachment. And small was an understatement, 40 soldiers and Aratus himself. 41 was all that Thelios needed to send a message, a show of strength in a foreign land. Part of it was to build rapport with the Empire, to keep trade friendly and relationships good.

But in a subtle way, it was a clear message that Thelios was not to be tested.

And as the Athallians met the off-guard and under-prepared, poorly motivated infantry at the city's gates, there was simply a single word to describe the event: slaughter. Shields were matched, and the blue-cloaked soldiers of Thelios pushed forward, moving as a single unit to repel the would-be sackers of the city.

Each step was practiced, each movement was coordinated. Even in the chaos of the conflict, they were almost mechanical, the way they approached combat. Each movement, each attack was geared towards quick removal of a single opponent.

Aratus looked towards the city, as they began their DEFENSE on the city walls, operating as one of the Vanguard for the DEFENDING forces. Aratus gripped his spear tightly, slamming the weighted hilt on the ground. His other warriors did the same, screaming in the tongue of Thelios together in unison, challenging the ATTACKERS.

It was a simple chant, repeated over and over at increasing volume until it culminated in a hearty warcry.

Kill.

Kill.

Kill.

Kill them all.

Wash, rinse, repeat for dramatic effect on Defenders, or attackers.

 

[Visha Sofka]

What? Who did that? No, she wasn't asking about who farted in the classroom, she was asking about that shield. They were the real rotten egg! Visha lovingly handcrafted each and every one of those fiery mortars. They were like Winter Solstice gifts! Hey, did that already happen? What month was it? Did she forget again? DAMN IT! This year was going to be so good! She was going to gift someone a half-eaten burnt cheese sandwich stuck inside of an old boot she'd fished up from the bottom of a lake. Mwahahaha, sucker! And that big dumb bird Vel Larry would give Visha a sweet new gift regardless!

Wait. She was getting off track again.

"Well, it's not like I can do much anyway," Visha said, switching without prompt from thinking her thoughts to speaking them aloud with no context. "That was a lot of mortars, okay? A lot! How high can you count, huh?" She said, singling out one of the Dead Men closest to her. "One, two, and a shitload? Well, it was a shitload plus one! That's how many mortars I launched! Normally I'm the world's greatest pyromancer, now I'm the world's greatest lazymancer. GIMME A SECOND. Geez, I already told you that was a lot of magic!"

Visha gestured absently toward the infantry melee. "Go kill some Kaliti!"

"Cortosi," one of the Dead Men corrected.

"Cortosi! That was a pop quiz, and YOU passed! Next time you're bathing in a stream, I'll have that guy there smack your bum. Congratulations, you earned it!"

The two Dead Men exchanged looks. The one designed as the smacker just snickered, and the other soon joined him. Then the Dead Men rode off, seeking to attack the Cortosi forces on their flank. Visha assured them that she'd catch up in a minute. Meanwhile, she just stayed lazily lounging in the saddle, close to the base of the plateau.

Ah, she really needed a nice fire to truly get going. There was smoke coming from that city over there, but AHHHH smoke was such a tease when you couldn't see that licking, writhing, orangey goodness beneath! Well! Patience, said the frog! Once the Empire won their silly little battle out here on the flats, then they'd go for the city and Visha could help the mighty Empire DESTROY that shithole! BWAHAHA!

Hey look, lightning. Coming this way.

Visha, slumped forward on her horse's neck, sat up straight again. Watched the lightning arcing closer and closer to her.

"AH HA! Found the IDIOT! Seriously, who still thinks lightning is cool!? PFFT! Lightning is weak! I eat lightning for breakfast! Goes great with sunny-side--!"

Visha got struck by the arcing bolts and was thrown off of her horse, taking a hard spill onto the unforgiving desert pan, convulsing as the currents rippled through her.

The worst part: Her hair was sooo fucked up now.

Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal

 

[Douglas Haley]

The spears found purchase, the arrows bounced off heavy plate - and those that would pull the men from their steeds would find them vicious in close quarters just as they were on their horses. The weight, momentum, and strength of their wedge formation, however, allowed them to land a devastating, morally crushing blow - but the pike wall of the elite foot soldiers held. Few levys could- but a professional army of this calibre held.​

​

The Lions were pulled down and fought tooth and nail - but those who could escape did. Shock calvary was best in the charge not the skirmish and the men knew this - backing up and out of the instance only for others to be shot down by the horse archers. Horses legs peppered with arrows neighed and winnied in fear and pain while men screamed and shed blood. Those left reformed, gained their distance, and began to turn towards the flank of those already engaged.​

​

At the fulcrum, they would scream once more. Another charge from the other direction - another chance to break the lines. For those who fell off their horses near the reinforced line, they were bloody and sweating from the carnage. Douglas himself was striking wildly - finding his sword cut deep into men of varying degrees of armament. They fought hard - and he could see it.​

​

His forces not on horses were being cut down - their heavy armor only slowing the coming death of their forces. In a few minutes, all those who were off their horses would be dead - even if thye took a few with them. HIs breath was heavy, his eyes were blurred behind his mask - his every muscle had already begun to burn with a fire barely extinguished by adrenaline.​

​

His death would be soon.​

​

Or so he would think - as the gates opened and the men sallied back out to strike at his force, they would experience another danger. The King's force yet inside the city charged directly behind them - footmen behind calvary, pressing and biting at the siege camp now from the very wall they had thought themselves to had taken. Their forces were spread thin holding the cities defenses, sallying back out to strike at the Band of the Lion, and holding his charge in the first place.​

​

Now - they were surrounded. From the City's defenders, from the Shock Lancers outside, and those that yet remained on the wall. The Mercenary Band renowned for never breaking was being bent - and even iron had a point of no return. A little heat was all it would take.​

​

Douglas, for his credit, let it raise his moral seeing the King's force - and he let loose a blood curdling scream as he charged into the fray once more.​

​

Tinus Damos​

 

[Kjaran Mak Aodha]

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 courage and the fire bombardment had broken the front of the Cortosi square in several sections. Portions of it still stood firm, pikes levelled while in the breaches it had descended into a wild melee, more of a brawl than a battle. The flanks and rear bastions still stood firm but the beleaguered square was under severe pressure.

A band of the enemy had even managed to reach the tercio's colours at one point. The experienced guards there had easily hacked them down but it showed how serious the situation had gotten. Frantic officers tried to reform where they could but it was near impossible with both sides locked together.

Kjaran could only see red. He'd lost his helmet somewhere and he fought with savagery now, continuing to strike the enemy after they'd fallen. Those he didn't gut on the point were bludgeoned down with repeated sledgehammer blows.

Horn blasts sounded, calling for the square to withdraw, even if it was just for a hundred yards or so. Some Kaliti were willing to give them the grace. It was easy enough in the kind of fighting where five minutes was enough to drain a man. Others pressed onward, having no intention of letting their opponent back away. They surged forward with renewed vigour, fighting and dying for every foot of ground.

 

[Gerra]

As Gerra waited for the arrival of this messenger, the battle unfolded before him.

Bolts of fire rained down from a point on the plateau at the colliding forces, striking without discernment for banner or allegiance. Gerra watched men and horses die screaming as flame engulfed a section of the Sipahi. His grip on his reins tightened.

"Ashuanar," he growled out, while visions of Maho being incinerated by Drakormir flashed before his eyes.

"I will not let another brother die while I stand idle," he said aloud, patience wearing thin for the arrival of this beast.

Just then an elephant let out a trumpet of agony and Gerra looked back, watching it fall slain by a single spear, even as a huge shape came down the side of the plateau. What foe was this? Or was this the one who sought a meeting?

The Emperor glanced briefly down at the puddle where he had glimpsed the vision before, but found it a muddled, incomprehensible sight.

The crack of lightning interrupted all thought as jagged tendrils lanced the side of the plateau in brilliant bursts, throwing up showers of dirt.

"Sound the retreat," rasped Gerra, "pull them back from those pikes. And give me naptha."

 

[Ormr]

Any satisfaction garnered from his enormous spear felling the War Beast he'd come to know was called an Elephant was short lived when the plateau that the Half-Giant descended from sent an eruption of debris exploding outwards behind him.

He'd have heard the plateau edge split free from the main body when it was torn away by the magic of Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal. Turning his head Ormr, looking particularly grim widened his eyes and raised his arm to shield himself from the cloud of dust, debris and rubble that came free from the plateau after such a massive show of force. Even though the Half-Giant wasn't in any direct danger he'd still feel the effects.

Consequently the dust from the debris would engulf him again, consuming his form in an embrace that concealed him completely.

When the Half-Giant came from the dust again it was with an enormous sword held in the grip of his right hand. He charged into a flank of Kaliti Foot Soldiers his sword raising and hacking into the bodies of the smaller forms that scattered ahead of him. To watch Ormr move he was swifter than one might expect a creature of his size to be, hacking and slashing with his weapon brutally and with some disregard for his own safety.

It would be the call for retreat, when it came that the Half-Giant would not expect and before it came he call out...

"Where is the Son of the Ashen King!? I have come for the Bastard of Menalus!"

...amidst the swing of heavy steel and the spray of blood.

 

[Ashuanar]

There was fire. And death.

There had been screams, and as quickly as they cried out they fell silent under the flame. Some were wounded, some fatally, and others were vapourized immediately. Shortly after, those spared set about reforming their rank and gathering up any survivors able to ride.

"Where is the Vizier!?"

"Vizier!?"

For a few moments he remained missing, but his determination to survive proved itself yet again. He pulled himself from under his horse, which had been wounded from a subsequent blast wave, and tore off his robes, which were alight and quickly becoming a threat. He rose to his feet and found himself standing in the midst of many dead, near to several smoking craters. Many dead. It was likely that the resilience the Band of Serqet granted his own physical body was the only reason for his survival given the carnage of those immediately around him. So it was then that when Ashuanar heard the call to retreat he dismissed it. The Cortosi would need to pay for wounding his Sipahi so, and though anger was his outward motivation, guilt was most certainly the heart of it. And he had no way of knowing who had really been behind the mortars, so he of course pointed the blame in the only logical direction.

His lieutenants found him and came near, requesting orders. After a quick assessment of what he could see, Ashuanar ordered his remaining Sipahi to retreat as the emperor ordered. He on the other hand, had other plans.

As his soldiers started off, he began a quiet ritual - one that required only his concentration for a few seconds, and then his patience. He needed only issue the call...

...a gentle pulse from the armband. An answer.
​

And now, patience.

Ashuanar shouldered a bow, took up his polearm, and then he started moving quickly towards the plateau's disheveled face.

---

Gerra | Mirielle Merlon | Douglas Haley
Hanuman | Visha Sofka | Aratus Seldomus ​

---

Ormr | Kara Orin​

---

Kjaran Mak Aodha | Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal | Tinus Damos ​

 

[Tinus Damos]

Alcazar- Kellish Forces

The Kel were spreading themselves thinner than they had originally intended, but they were use to fighting from such disadvantages. People liked to throw expensive mercenaries at the worst of the fighting after all. It was especially true for those known to never break. Iron may bend or break if pressured enough but stone could only be chipped away at until it was fully shattered. The Kel were as tough and stubborn as the stones of their mountains.

The charge into the line had been stopped, but they had failed to fully encircle the heavy cavalry. Many of them had escaped by by backing out the way they had come. Far too many it would soon prove. Orders to reform their line were already being issued the moment the first horse had gotten away, but the men dismounted were too much of a distraction and the shifting of a pike formation too slow compared to horses.

The second wave charged into them, this time without their formation ready. Many of them died and too few of the cavalry with them. But they were Kel. They refused to let it end. Pikes, spears, swords, whatever weapon was in hand was being thrust and swung towards the cavalry as they past. One of the field commanders even began to issue orders to aim for the horses, which was beginning to be swiftly followed amongst the warriors.

The engineers and horse archers even pressed their way into the fray now in an attempt to bog down the heavy cavalry and prevent them from reforming into a third charge. The second had done what the first failed to do. A third would likely demand an order to withdraw to more defensive positions.

=====
Alcazar- Tinus

The fighting on the walls had slowed down. The defenders up there subdued. But things were not about to be over. Already they were having to set up a defense of the towers as soldiers from within the city began to respond and charge up to retake their walls.

Tinus had grabbed a shield and formed a shield wall with his fellow Kel. They began to be pressed together, ally and foe alike, into a cluster of metal and flesh. Like big balls of bees buzzing against one another the sound and heat of it was shocking.

Thankfully they held the advantage of being able to block the chokepoint to prevent the enemy's superior numbers overwhelming them, but it would only end poorly for them if they couldn't finish securing the gate.
A task proving to be difficult as the Kellish forces on the ground clashed into the city defenders within the gates themselves. The very few Kel who were not apart of the mass of bodies blocking the towers had taken up the defenders crossbows to begin shooting at the defenders, but it was droplets against desert sands.

But as things were looking tense off in the distance horns could be heard.

Tinus wanted to cheer in relief but could only sigh. Their employer's forces were making their way and finally arriving. They were still a ways out, but it meant the Kel only needed to hold out.

And he knew all of them planned to do just that.

Douglas Haley Gerra Kjaran Mak Aodha Dianaimh Ui Muirgheal Mirielle Merlon

 

[Douglas Haley]

The lines held harder than they should've - just as the Kel were known to fight. Like rabid animals trapped in a cage, they lashed out with even their weakest parts - archers and siege engineers now throwing themselves at heavy calvary to dismount them, to kill them. Blades under plates, blood on the soil - Douglas breathed heavy as he watched his force's second charge fail to break them.​

​

With horses corpses mounting, and his own men tiring - this wouldn't last. Another reform, another charge - it was all he could hope for; to push further in and relieve the forces at the gates. He was hired to break the siege, damnit, he was going to do exactly that. That was his thought before the terrifying sound of a horn marked reinforcements.​

​

His heart seemed to skip a beat, and his troops would know what it meant. A relief force was in bound, and if they didn't burn the siege camp and get behind those gates - they were going to be buried in the mote around those walls. He greater ambition than becoming fertilizer on some King's defensive land - and it would seem his troops agreed.​

​

A rallying war cry started somewhere off to his left - but it spread wide and far. Men began to double their efforts, like trying to fight through sand before it buried you. They heaved and groaned, pressed themselves tight as swords cut down anyone without armor. The time limit set upon them was closing fast - and they needed to fight harder if they were to survive.​

​

The third charge came in heavy against the same force as the first - and Douglas watched as heavy horse dented a man's armor on the ground. He hoped he was already dead - but something about his twitching told him he wasn't. Suffocated by armor that wouldn't expand was just as bad a way to go as any. Something he'd like to avoid.​

​

Yet when he turned his head back to the fight - a hammer came from outside his visors site limit; and what was once a constricted view suddenly turned black. He could hear the screams, the sound of blood sprayin and metal hitting metal - but above it all was the ringing and stinging of his head.​

​

Where was he?​

​

Tinus Damos​

 

[Visha Sofka]

Visha flopped. Stirred on the hardpacked dirt. She tried to sit upright and failed the first time, collapsing back down to the ground with a string of colorful expletives trailing in her wake. Lightning burns blackened her stomach, the lower half of her shirt ragged and torn, severely singed at its frayed edges.

"You know what...the great thing...about magic is?" Visha huffed and puffed, struggling even to say that to herself. She made an attempt to get back up again. "If you don't believe it can hurt you...then it can't hurt you! AHAHA--!"

Her laughter was cut off by a fit of pained coughing. She pressed a hand to her stomach, searing shut the tiny perforations in the flesh where blood oozed out with a cauterizing flash of fire. A stumbling mess, Visha nevertheless made it back to her feet.

"Where's my horse?"

Her horse was on the ground, its head charred and blackened, a ruin of equine form.

"My horse is dead," she commented dryly.

But, just then, a horse sans anyone in the saddle came trotting close by. Some fallen cavalryman's mount, perhaps, having wandered away from the main battle without the direction of its missing master.

Visha beamed. "Your rider is dead! We're a match! Come here! I'm not wounded, you're wounded! Watch! I'll ride you so hard I'll break your BACK! Your last rider was a pussy! I said come here!"

Eventually, after catching up with the horse, and after failing multiple times to mount the horse, she got on. And, well, bad news! She saw from her distant vantage the retreating of the Kaliti forces. There was like, what, maybe one guy (Ashuanar) not retreating, actually going places and doing things. But! Come on! They had a city to burn! Did Visha have to do EVERYTHING herself?? Yes, actually, she loved burning everything herself, teehee.

So she turned the horse around. Started galloping toward Alcazar. Where were those gates, hmmmmmm?? HMMMMMM!? Oh there. And look, fighting! Plenty of fighting! GOOD! The people trying to get into the city were the good guys (burn, burn, burn) and the people inside the city were the bad guys (refusing to get burned, how dare). Those smoke stacks rising from the city already weren't enough!!

Visha came galloping up close to the battle at the gates. And just so happened to find herself standing over Douglas Haley after he'd taken the blow to the head. Somewhere along the way she had lost her horse and was on foot again. And she seemed entirely oblivious to the battle around her, solely focused down on the Douglas.

"I HAVE! A question," she said to him. "An important question!"

She grinned. Her hands and staff behind her back as she leaned forward.

"Is this the line to burn the city?"

Douglas Haley Tinus Damos Ashuanar