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Post by Eirik Reyksol on Jul 22, 2011 23:23:32 GMT -5
It hadn't taken long for the other clans to send their men, even some that had not been interested in joining with me were arriving by the day. The sheer audacity the D'angelines showed in attacking us was being met with a savage anger that I shared and yet had not predicted. The one thing that could knit us together was a common enemy, a true threat.
Those coming to Eisande with me left at the same time as those going to Azzalle, though I had ordered Astride to wait a day or so to attack, so that we would be further into D'angeline territory by the time the distraction came. The longboats were small and silent, not like the large-bellied craft of other nations, and the point was not to wage war with them, but to land men on their shores, and perhaps even to take over some of their own ships. I'd separated my group thusly: some longboats would go ashore and land, the mean sneaking up upon the city of Marsilikos and burning and killing as many as they could. If I could take the city, so much the better, but even if not, we were prepared to do as much damage as they had done to us ... more, truly. The rest of the boats would glide up alongside ships in the harbor and the men would take over as many as they could, surprising the city with an attack in their own harbor from their own ships.
I went over the plan again and again, until I could have executed it in my sleep. At the appropriate time, the longboats separated their courses, I going on land as I was not much of a sailor. I left that to the clans that spent more time on the water, and those men appreciated my faith, which I knew in turn would cleave them to me more surely than fear and demands of obedience.
We arrived, in the still of night on quiet shores, slipping unseen and unheard into the docks of Marsilikos. With a mighty cry, we began to burn the waterfront, and before long, the river began to run red with the blood of the D'angelines.
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
Noble (Staff)
Sovereign Duchesse of Eisande, Lady of Marsilikos *Voted Member of Best Storyline 2010*
Wife of Fydor Romanov
Posts: 2,623
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Jul 23, 2011 17:23:30 GMT -5
I'd known the war was going on and planned for it as best I could. My ships were made ready, my forces on guard, but there were always things that couldn't be accounted for. Remembering my mother's role in the war with Khebbel-in-Akkad had made me wary, but at the same time there was trade to be done to keep Terre d'Ange running as it always had, treaties to keep, and all of it at my hand. Besides, Skaldia was so far away, with Caerdicca Unitas between their borders and ours, that it seemed they'd bring all of their forces to the north and harry the d'Angeline troops there.
When the alarms started, the screams from the City, and the fires, I knew that something was very wrong.
They were trying to outmaneuver us.
My city and my people were in danger.
More quickly than I'd have ever thought possible I dressed and started giving my orders to my advisers, bringing together whomever I could, pushing down the panic. I was no fighter, had never turned a hand toward it in my life, but I'd learned strategy and tactics from my mother, my tutors and my reading. Part of me, that small bit which was an eighteen year old girl, newly married and hoping for a child, wanted to run, to leave this place and hide in Fydor's arms and cry.
The rest of me was in charge for now though and I did what I must. I ordered soldiers to the docks, to the walls, to stop those going through my streets and killing my citizens and burning their homes. My ships were to be made ready to fight and to defend the river that led straight into our capital city.
From my balcony overlooking Marsilikos I saw the fires and I felt the steely determination rise up in me. This had to stop. I didn't have time to be afraid.
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Post by Perrin Duré on Jul 23, 2011 18:35:35 GMT -5
The alarms sounded and I burst from my berth, grabbing my coat and sword as I ran from my room. All around me there were feet pounding and my lieutenant was shouting orders.
I reached deck and saw the flames on the dock and heard the screams.
Elua’s Balls! Where was the watch? How had they been allowed to enter the port?
Swinging my gaze around I saw a boat gliding through the water toward my ship. “Man the aft cannons!” I cried as I belted my sword into place. “Enemy incoming!” we had to hold them off long enough to get her away from the docks. Here she was no more than an extension of the land, my ship needed the sea.
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Post by Eirik Reyksol on Jul 24, 2011 22:42:28 GMT -5
I could tell that the city had been alerted, but my main objective was clear: kill and burn as much as possible. We weren't wasting time taking slaves, nor raping nor stealing, though it had been hard to get people to see reason when it came to this. In the end, we would all share in the spoils gained from Azzalle and if any were taken in Camlach, but here in Marsilikos, we were outmanned and the point was merely to cause chaos and to wound them. Realistically, I knew that there was no way I could take the city with the men I had, but I was determined to do some damage.
Looking out to the sea, I saw a cannon fire, and then another, and I prayed to Odhinn that my men were all right, that they would survive and if we were lucky take at least one D'angeline ship. It didn't matter though, in the end, as long as we hurt them and I got back to Skaldia in one piece.
"To me!" I shouted, rallying as many as I could and giving instructions to avoid engaging the enemy as much as possible, to instead rain fire and destruction down upon them for as long as we could. The docks were burning already and I grinned as we split up ... this would be no easy battle, but I hoped it would at least accomplish my goals.
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Svetlana Romanova
Royal
Kzajina of Ruskovia
Dearer to me than a host of base truths is the illusion that exalts.
Posts: 106
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Post by Svetlana Romanova on Jul 24, 2011 22:57:02 GMT -5
There was commotion in the palace – the booms of cannons woke me with a start, and I sat up brusquely, gaining a headache from it. In the corridors, men ran, men shouted orders in D'Angeline, and a red light flooded my rooms. I was barefoot and in my long nightgown, and though the stone floor was cold under my feet, I only cared to see what was afoot.
Below me, the ocean was on fire, and men were screaming in pain, in death. I could see, from where I was, small silhouettes falling with cries I could only imagine.
Oh, Buyan. Where had the land of Angels gone?
I hugged myself against the night's fresher winds, and prayed that the gentle Zephyr's spirits would quiet all this violence. Why was it happening? Who was so angry, that they would maim, and kill, and burn the white city?
I only stared out the window, mesmerized and unable to look as horror unfolded both before my eyes and in my heart. I cried, then, shivering and holding myself, and found suddenly that the world was a rather horrid place – and not the place I knew.
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Post by Katya Azarov on Jul 25, 2011 0:23:18 GMT -5
I couldn't sleep. I wanted to be off to the City of Elua, and I was due to leave in the morning, but at the same time I was nervous. I'd been ill on the ship here, closeted away from the royalty that I traveled with, because I was ashamed of the heaving and shaking that had accompanied every roll of the waves. It was better here, but in truth, I was impatient to be off and seeing the fabled capitol of this land. Besides, always being in the presence of one's superiors was tiring after awhile.
Tonight I tossed and turned, so hot in the summer air, even though everyone said it was much cooler here on the water. I had never been able to get used to the warmer weather of other climates, despite all of the hot, sticky summers in Kriti and Hellas. I shed my nightgown and lay atop the covers in a linen shift, knowing that I would hate myself in the morning if I did not get some sleep.
It was no use, and I rose, taking a drink of the tepid water on my nightstand, wondering where I would have to go to get something cooler and more refreshing. At least I could feel the cool breeze through the window, where I went to stand and look out at the sea. It was beautiful, admittedly, and the night seemed to be holding its breath. I liked that imagery, but before I could think on it further, I saw a flare of orange somewhere below me. Then another, and another, and the sound of cannons rent the air. What was happening?
I bit my lower lip hard, staring out at the city in disbelief as it began to burn. My stomach cramped with fear and my first thought was escape, my second- to where? Down from our ivory tower, the city of Marsilikos would be chaos ... no, this was safest, though now 'safety' was itself a relative term.
I prayed then, not something I did often, but it seemed appropriate at a time when angels themselves burned in the night.
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Post by Islief Halvdan on Jul 25, 2011 0:30:12 GMT -5
I was going to take a ship if it killed me, eager as I was to steal something back from these dogs who thought that the could waltz onto our lands and kill us in our sleep. Cowards, they hid behind their stone walls and angel's blood, but no longer. Tonight we were the devils who invaded their dreams.
I rowed up alongside a ship, giving the command to slow down as I looked for purchase in the night. Someone shot a cannon toward us, but we were so near to one of their own ships that they did not dare fire too close. That was an advantage, though they had their own: the men on the ship that we rowed up next to rained down arrows, killing two men instantly before I found a place where we could try to break through their defenses. If not, well ships were made of wood and they would burn just as easily as their homes and livestock would tonight.
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Post by Perrin Duré on Jul 25, 2011 19:27:31 GMT -5
The aft cannons roared to life as I gave the order to fire. We needed to hold them off just a little longer and then we could man the oars and push away from the dock.
I heard cries from the port side and saw hooks from ropes launched from the water take hold on the railings. I directed men to cut then free even as I drew my sword, running to help repel the boarding party.
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Fydor Romanov
Royal
His Highness, Prince of Ruskovia, House Romanov *Voted Member of Best Storyline 2010*
Husband to Lessandrie de Mereliot; youngest child of Nikolai and Ivana Romanov
Posts: 1,170
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Post by Fydor Romanov on Jul 31, 2011 13:14:57 GMT -5
Chaos, there was chaos down below in Marsilikos proper. I dressed as quickly as Lessa, staying quiet as she rattled off orders. I was trying to get to know the land, the people, but she was raised to defend the province and knew far better than I the best way to defend it. My hand went to hers where it clutched at the balcony, letting her clutch at me instead. "Where do you want me love?"
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Post by Roland Zidane on Jul 31, 2011 13:24:40 GMT -5
I tumbled out of bed at the first warning bell, Claire ending up on the floor with me. Cursing I pulled some clothes on, grabbed my sword and dagger, and paused in the door. "Go find Elise and Marc, and barricade yourselves in the kitchen," I ordered, and then I was gone, sprinting for the docks. I sent up a prayer for the woman I had met the night before, and my two friends that had offered me a bed before the navy shipped me off.
My feet pounded on the planks of the dock, and I made it to the plank of the Moreau just before they pulled it up. It was easy to see why, the enemy was boarding the other side. I didn't slow down, charging across the deck to hack at ropes, and then at bodies as the enemy made it onto the deck. Skaldi? But I didn't have time to be surprised, cutting them down and throwing their torches overboard.
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Post by Perrin Duré on Jul 31, 2011 19:59:42 GMT -5
We filled the air and water on the port side with blood and screams as the boarding party was repelled and the ropes tossed free. In the flicking light cast by the wharf fires, the bobbing bodies in the water seemed to be fake characters made for a morbid play rather than enemy casualties. What mattered was that they were the latter.
“To the oars!” I cried, keeping my sword in hand for the moment. “Get us to open water!”
I felt her beneath my feet as the oars began to dip into the water, straining to push the massive weight away from the docks and into the harbor. There was an instant when it seemed impossible that anything as large as the Moreau would ever be moved, but then a shift and the balance was broken, and the will of the men at the oars began to win out.
From the corner of my eye I saw a rope began to slither and move, edging towards tautness, and I realized that a mooring line had not been thrown free in the confusion. As the oars dipped again and she began to gain distance, precious inches, from the dock, I knew that all progress would be halted if that line was not cut.
Dashing across the deck, I threw myself forward, the railing slamming into my midsection as I brought my sword down with all the force I could muster and sliced through the line just a breath before it went taut and halted the ship. She surged again the oars dipped again and I was thrown off of my precarious balance, my free hand gripping at the railing as I began to tip over.
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Post by Roland Zidane on Jul 31, 2011 20:12:59 GMT -5
Soon enough we had stopped the boarding party. I sprinted to my post, but overshot it when I saw the captaine lunging for the mooring line. I don't know if I could name any specific thing, just that he was moving too fast to stop himself, even as he managed to cut the blasted rope. I managed to grab his belt just as he went over, frantically hauling him backwards. I ended up on my arse, with him on top of me. "You alright Capitaine?" I wheezed.
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Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov
Noble (Staff)
Sovereign Duchesse of Eisande, Lady of Marsilikos *Voted Member of Best Storyline 2010*
Wife of Fydor Romanov
Posts: 2,623
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Post by Lessandrie de Mereliot-Romanov on Jul 31, 2011 21:59:22 GMT -5
My husband... Always at my side, my strength, my compass. When he offered his help all I wanted to do was hug him and wish it all away I knew that didn't make any sense, couldn't ever happen, and that thinking that way for too long was sure to lead to defeat. A leader had to be confident, make the right moves without regretting that the easier wrong ones weren't going to fix things, and try her best so hope and luck didn't have too much work laid at their feet.
For a moment I just looked at Fydor and squeezed his hand, then brought it up to my cheeks as I took a steadying breath and closed my eyes. There was one thing that was more important than the others and that had to be done above all else. If things broke over the docks and the Skaldi came further into the city the damage and the chances for success would be far worse. "The docks have to be defended," I simply said softly. "If.. if you want to help by fighting that would be the place. Just.. please come back safe, husband. I don't want to lose you."
It probably would have seemed like madness in some ways, to send my husband, or anyone else I loved, to the front lines of a battle. Even to me it did. But I knew Fydor and that he couldn't sit idly by, waiting for an outcome decided by other people. I could have asked him to stay here, to protect me, but I knew that if the Skaldi made it this far there would be nothing he could do and pretending otherwise would have been lying to him.
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Fydor Romanov
Royal
His Highness, Prince of Ruskovia, House Romanov *Voted Member of Best Storyline 2010*
Husband to Lessandrie de Mereliot; youngest child of Nikolai and Ivana Romanov
Posts: 1,170
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Post by Fydor Romanov on Jul 31, 2011 22:27:02 GMT -5
"I will protect your people, and I'll be back before you've even realized I've left, my sunshine," I said, slipping into Ruskovian as I quirked a smile. I kissed her hard and then strode off, calling out orders. Lessa would not have asked this of me if it were not important to her, and by the gods I would do anything to make her smile again.
Soon enough my force was trotting down to the docks, our chain mail clinking softly, mostly lost admits the cannon fire and screams coming from the harbour. Already there were forces on the docks, and not of the friendly variety. "Eisande!" I shouted, leading the charge.
We didn't so much kill them as push them into the water by sheer momentum. But we didn't get all of the bastards, and soon blood was flowing. I ended up back to back with my sergeant, our swords flashing dully in the torchlight. The tide turned to our favour after some minutes of intense fighting, and soon enough I was calling my men back. I knew that Lessa had sent us to hold the docks to keep the enemy from the city proper, not go harrying off after the enemy without a thought to the consequences. It wasn't until I had a chance to breath that I realized I was bleeding, a shallow cut to my calf. "Svoloch," I cursed, quickly binding my womb.
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Post by Perrin Duré on Aug 1, 2011 18:31:52 GMT -5
As quickly as I was tipping forward, I was hauled back, landing on top of one of my crew.
“Aye,” I said, grinning as I stood up and then offered him my hand to help him up. “I owe you as keg when all this is done.”
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Post by Roland Zidane on Aug 1, 2011 19:08:35 GMT -5
I took the offered hand and got to my feet. "Deal," I replied with a grin before going to my oar and picking up the beat of the drum.
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Post by Eirik Reyksol on Aug 2, 2011 22:37:56 GMT -5
We fought, bitterly, ferociously, but I saw that I was beginning to lose men. Still, not so much so that it was time to call the retreat, and I wanted more damage done, so much so that they would be unable to come to the aid of their fellows in Azzalle or Camlach or where ever we chose to strike next.
I rallied the men with shouts and with the killing of as many men as I could, and my men followed suit, until we were working our way into the city, foot by foot, burning as many warehouses and shops as we could.
Out to sea, our men fought to board the ships, some succeeding, some being tossed into the faithless ocean, and whether or not we took a ship, some of them burned, and that was good enough. Fire was the winner this night, gorging herself on the wood and flesh of the friend and the enemy alike, until the night was an inky smudge against a red sky.
Burn, D'angelines, burn for daring to come against us...
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Post by Perrin Duré on Aug 2, 2011 22:58:11 GMT -5
We gained open water and I ordered the sails. The gods themselves were watching, for no sooner had the cloth dropped then they filled with the wind and the ship swung around on my word.
We came up beside an enemy ship and I ordered the cannons to fire at will, watching as the volley hit true and holes blossomed along the enemy’s port side.
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Post by Islief Halvdan on Aug 7, 2011 17:31:10 GMT -5
I came over the deck, though many of my men ended up being pushed aside, but enough of us managed to get on the ship to kill the captain and take over. Of course, I had no idea how to sail a big tub like this, but it didn't matter, the fun was in figuring out the cannons and shocking the enemy when their own ships began firing against them.
They fought back, of course, and soon the ship I had take was burning, taking on water and generally in a terrible state of disrepair. Still, the damage was done and for every ship we'd taken and they'd set afire, we'd fired upon one too, and done twice as much damage that way. We took back to the sea, swimming through fire and debris, and I thought once that this was what I imagined Hell to be- smoke, flames, drowning in it all and screaming for breath.
In the end, we reached land, haggard and coughing and lying upon the beach, though for moments only, because the enemy came this way too, and the fighting was fierce. Today we made our mark against a burning sea and a burning sky, and if we died, so much glory was to be won that it was honor to fall on this field.
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Post by Eirik Reyksol on Aug 7, 2011 18:15:23 GMT -5
Atop a low rise leading into the city proper, I paused amidst the chaos to examine the tides of battle. The sky was orange with flames as well as the break of dawn, and higher up it was black with smoke. The dead littered the streets of Marsilikos and more washed up on the beach. D'angeline and Skaldi alike, but this time it was more of them than of us, and I knew that it was time to leave before the tide turned.
I sounded the retreat, the words spreading like wildfire through my troops and we began to withdraw, killing as we went, doing as much damage as we could to keep the D'angelines occupied with the saving of their own city, their waterfront ablaze.
I was satisfied, overall, with the way this battle had gone, and truth be told, I could not wait to hear how things had played out in Azzalle and back in Camlach as well. It was a blow, I knew it, to the heart and soul of them, and perhaps this would make them think twice before they continued this madness.
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Svetlana Romanova
Royal
Kzajina of Ruskovia
Dearer to me than a host of base truths is the illusion that exalts.
Posts: 106
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Post by Svetlana Romanova on Aug 8, 2011 23:09:22 GMT -5
The night was red with blood and fire, and the usual silence had been replaced by screams, booming canons and the clash of steel.
Transfixed, I'd been unable to shake myself away from the window, staring, terrified that the horrors of the night would have transpired into something more concrete, more horrible.
What of my little brother?
Fedya, I knew, would not stay inactive in the face of such mayhem, not when it was his wife's city that was under attack. Not, as well, when he was here, when he could be all that he could be. I took a deep breath, and knowing I could do nothing, I cried, and listened and observed, unable to look away.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered, too – had the Yeshuite shop where I'd bought my dresses been sacked? What of the kindly Madame Cohen? What of my new friend, the dashing Duc d'Alegre? Surely he too must have been part of the fighting. Of course.
Oh, brave hearts.
I shivered, and after some determination, as the madness started to die down, I went to my door.
“Niet, Kzajina,” came Borodynia's cold answer. “Not yet. You are not to exit your room now, the castle is full of soldiers.”
His tone was non-compromising, but I insisted.
“I need ot know if the Kznaj is safe,” I retorted. “He is my brother.”
He stood there, though, staring me down, and said, “I am following the Czar's orders, Kzajina. Forgive me.”
“What of the Vikontessa?” I asked.
“She is safe as well. Rest, Kzajina.”
“How can I rest when --- when ---” and tears caught me again, and I closed the door in his face, not quite slamming it, and collapsed in a chaise, unable to breathe properly, my face burning with the salt of my tears.
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