Astride Schevlok
Military
Warrior of Skaldia
You may not be interested in strategy, but strategy is interested in you. - Leon Trotsky
Posts: 41
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Post by Astride Schevlok on Jul 23, 2011 14:55:11 GMT -5
I'd been ordered to wait, and I'd waited – following orders this time was key to my plan, and I needed to prepare the assault regardless.
Ah, my first command. I was excited and pleased - and determined to make the best of it, too. It was my rightful place.
I'd decided that we needed to make a show of it – to keep drawing them into our territory. The attack was sounded by the horn at the break of dawn, and this time, ready as we were, it was cavalry and swordsmanship, cavalry and lances, cavalry and bowmen. The purpose was to draw the troops away from camp, to protect those angelic whelps who had settled on our lands.
I'd given strict orders, to burn villages, put them to the torch, take the women, kill the men, and show no mercy. For every village burned down, a survivor was to be left alive, so that they could alert the D'Angeline army and divert them toward our lances.
For every one of their assault, we would retreat, drawing them into the forest if we could, where hidden marksmen would use their skill. And small groups attacking villagers, would not be expected, I reckoned.
I'd ordered my small troops to remain alive – we were not numerous enough to give Odhinn the tribute he deserved with our own blood, if we were to give Falki and Eirik a chance to succeed. No – but we would honor him with something sweeter, with the blood of the D'Angeline, which would soak the ground and make our lands more fertile for the years to come.
The bone necklace was on my skin, under my shirt and my armour, for luck, and I'd paid Johanna a visit before we'd left. It was brief, but it was important – if I rode into battle without paying my respects, what manner of a suitor would I be? I'd left the halfbreed behind, on the rear lines – he was to protect the women and children, with those who had been assigned to the task. Ah, but he was to do it by killing D'Angeline soldiers from above. One does not waste a good marksman on guard duty, regardless of his weak blood.
But I needed him alive, and that, I'd made clear. Prisoners would be made to talk, and then, oh, then, he would have a role to play.
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Post by James de Valois-Burgundy on Jul 23, 2011 15:45:36 GMT -5
I was asleep when I heard the horn, and I knew at once what it signified. I couldn't say that this was unexpected, and we were prepared for the Skaldi to retaliate, so I rolled out of bed and dressed quickly, almost knocking the camp follower I was bedding right out of the cot. She didn't say anything, just sat up in a fright, looking with wide eyes toward the tent flap.
"Stay here," was all I said as I strode out of the tent, seeing other men doing the same, including the King, who still limped. I might have advised him to sit this one out, but on the other hand, having him in battle was good for morale. At least he would have the sense to stay mounted,or so I hoped.
I rallied the men at the edge of camp, some on horseback and some not, as the reports began to pour in ... somewhat different than what I had expected. Instead of attacking us where we were massed, a sitting duck, they were scattered, burning the Camealine villages for miles around. Dammit, this had more strategy to it than I'd anticipated, and I was forced to quickly disperse men in many different areas, knowing that we would arrive too late in many of them.
As for myself and my regiment, we headed to the nearest place - the Skaldi clan we'd sent packing, because I knew they would try to get their land back. Hopefully, we would be able to keep it from them.
On the way, I looked for Reza, because she had her own duty, and I hoped that she remembered it, though I doubted she would forget. My blood ran cold at the thought of what could befall her, but we needed someone on the inside for just moments like these. I would have given anything to know Eirik Reyksol's plans, and perhaps avert the bloodshed before it started.
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Thereza de Soigneux
Military
First Lieutenant
Second in Command to Captain de Etalon
Posts: 233
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Post by Thereza de Soigneux on Jul 23, 2011 16:07:40 GMT -5
When the horn announcing the battle came I woke up instantly, well acquainted with the sound. Almost on reflex I reached for my sword-belt but a moment later I stayed my hand, remembering my part in all of this. I wasn't riding into battle today, or even walking into it. There was a great duty than taking lives to do, one that had the potential to do much more good than being another sword in the midst of a fight and called for completely different skills than I'd used in some time.
Standing up I quickly reached for the gown that had been secreted away in the small chest in my tent. It was deep red velvet, cut lower in the front than I would have considered wearing at any other time or for any other purpose, the fabric worn and the ribbon edging somewhat snarled. The laces were easy enough to manage, as I'd always done my own on the rare occasion I wore gowns, but I had to admit the color was one I probably hadn't been in any time that I could clearly recall; at the Temple it had always been grey, then black for my father's funeral, and then for the events I attended with Royal more grey or whatever else was required. This red reminded me of blood.
Hopefully it would be blood that wouldn't have to be shed for much longer.
Completely composed I put my uniform and sword-belt quickly into the same chest and locked it. Casanova was elsewhere, and that was a blessing, but for a panging moment of pain I wished I could give him a hug, and it was followed by one more as I hoped Captain de Etalon wouldn't be too angered by my letter when he received it.
Bringing my fingers up through my hair I quickly mussed it, stepped into some matching slippers and ran. I didn't even have a knife to defend myself, nor my sword, and I felt more naked with out them than the camp-whore gown did. That didn't matter now though. I had a duty to do, and I took up the same sort of shriek as the others, eyes wide as I ran to the edge of the encampment.
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Post by King Marcel de la Courcel on Jul 23, 2011 16:11:01 GMT -5
The attack had actually taken longer to come than I'd anticipated, which was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it gave me more time to heal, but it also gave me more time to think about Maigrey. I wanted to strike further into their land while we had the advantage, but Jaime convinced me otherwise, because he knew that the men we had fought had been just one clan, taking on all of them in their own terrain would be a mistake. He was right, but sitting around waiting was more than I could bear.
When the attacks came, I was one of the first to ride out, not caring where I ended up, just wanting to lose myself in the fighting and maybe, just maybe, find Mai out there somewhere. Either way, I couldn't bear to pace around my tent and talk strategy anymore, so this attack was coming at the best time ... for me, anyway. I was well aware that for the people being attacked, no time was a good time. For that, we would smash the Skaldi, for every death they dealt, we would deal two ... at least.
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Post by Heribert Reiterin on Jul 24, 2011 1:04:01 GMT -5
Under Astrid's command, I road on horseback with my trusty mace in hand. I swung it on it's chain and then swung it down hitting a man in the head and then switching it to the other side to ram a man's back.
As I rode into the village, hitting what I could, I saw blond hair in the light of the breaking dawn. I knew instantly that it must be a D'Angeline woman. I held onto my reins and began racing toward her running, screaming figure. She would be quite the catch.
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Post by Niamh mac Igrainne on Jul 24, 2011 15:28:55 GMT -5
When this attack came, I determined to keep Caelum and Decimus close, I had worried too much last time, it was a distraction I didn't need. This fight was frustrating, however, because the Skaldics seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at once, and for every one of them that I managed to attack, ten more melted into the trees and disappeared. There were shouts and snippets of news and it didn't take long to figure out what they were doing with these hit and run attacks, which was the best way to take on a superior force, in truth. The question was, what were we going to do about it?
And more to the point, how soon would that decision be made? I could see smoke miles away in all directions- Skaldia and Camlach both were burning and the destruction was terrifying to contemplate.
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Astride Schevlok
Military
Warrior of Skaldia
You may not be interested in strategy, but strategy is interested in you. - Leon Trotsky
Posts: 41
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Post by Astride Schevlok on Jul 24, 2011 20:16:20 GMT -5
The plan seemed to be working – were they expecting this? I didn't think so – no, the D'Angelines were a people of orderly battles, and this sort of tactic was not what they were prepared to deal with. Well and good, then. The day would be crimson, and my name would be greater for it.
I screamed and hacked at whatever came my way, until the charge came and I called the first of many fake retreats, back toward the ambush. Turning my horse around, then, I went around, and joined another group, calling out to them to give them heart.
I laughed for every chest my sword pierced, for every D'Angeline shriek I heard.
Hm... perhaps in the midst of it all, a slave of my own would be a good thing, if I could find one pretty enough.
Perhaps.
I'd have to keep my eye out.
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Post by Yves Chevalier on Jul 24, 2011 22:28:09 GMT -5
I had gotten away unscathed in the first battle, but I wasn't thinking about that as I rode into this one. It was lucky, I knew, but I also knew that luck wasn't likely to hold out. As I headed toward the flames and the screaming, I had no trouble finding Skaldi to fight, though it was clear that something wasn't right. We outnumbered them easily, and yet we were confused and aimless, the Skaldi were coming from every direction. I found myself irritated that no one had prepared for this eventuality, or at least, if they had, no instructions had been disseminated to those of us further down the ranks, which was just as bad.
With a growl, I killed one man, but my horse stumbled - the man had stabbed him in the belly. Cursing, I leaped free of the falling beast, said a prayer for him, and then turned to find another to find. My luck ran out, however, and I felt the blow that took me by surprise before I realized what was happening. Things went black, then, and my last thoughts were of Claire and Julia, and Aurianne ... another prayer that I should see them again one day.
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Post by Chantal mab Morwen on Jul 25, 2011 4:14:16 GMT -5
My eyes flashed open as I heard the intrusive flare of the horn, only this time it was unanticipated. Instinctively, I let the twilight slip around me, before realising that the threat lay beyond the camp.
Cloaked in invisibility, I prepared my arrows and went outside, where orders were hastily being given to split up. In the distance smoke blew upwards in worrying clouds of grey. So the Skaldic were razing the villages to the ground. Guerilla tactics, similar to the more aggressive cattle raids back home. Only, just as it seemed they were coming forward, they began to draw back into cover.
How very odd. It was a trap if I'd ever seen one, and I wasn't about to wait around for more orders on what was to be done. Still concealed by the twilight, I followed, knees clamped around my horse's flanks as I aimed my arrows, picking off the foot soldiers. It was hard work acting alone, but I made sure that the shots were quick, and that I was not in one place long enough for them to figure out where the arrows were coming from.
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Post by Heribert Reiterin on Jul 26, 2011 15:34:40 GMT -5
I continued to follow the glimmer of blond hair that I saw under the light of the moon, until I was hit by an arrow. I let out a deep groan of pain, and then turned my horse around. My eyes looked for whoever was shooting the arrows, but I couldn't tell because the arrows kept coming from a different direction. I began moving my horse toward one direction and then to the other. I found myself intent on finding the archer and choking them with my bare hands.
I dismounted and began keeping a closer eye on where the archer was. While I kept a open eye, I continued to fight the D'Angelines who were nearby.
Where was that archer? He would pay for his distractions! I thought in anger.
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Astride Schevlok
Military
Warrior of Skaldia
You may not be interested in strategy, but strategy is interested in you. - Leon Trotsky
Posts: 41
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Post by Astride Schevlok on Jul 26, 2011 16:35:20 GMT -5
Amidst the shrieking, the running, the terror and the dying, there were screams that were our own as well, and I realized it was time for yet another simili retreat – at least to get rid of what slaves we'd stolen and draw the D'Angeline dogs into our trap once more.
I called out to the group I was leading, and just as I turned my mount around, I spotted a blond woman, with hair light as day, running wildly. Fair and well. I'd take her, dump her in schakles, and charge once more.
“Ya, ya!” I screamed, rushing to corner her against a burning wall. I reached to knock her out from above – only then would I haul her up atop my horse, like the loot she was.
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Lucien de Clairmont
Noble
Sovereign Duc of Siovale; Baron de Clairmont
Son of Charles and Rosetta de Clairmont
Posts: 1,079
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Post by Lucien de Clairmont on Jul 31, 2011 13:45:21 GMT -5
I followed orders and led my unit south to save those we could in the small village of Lodge des Corbeau. There was no smoke yet rising from the area, unlike so much of the countryside, so I had some hope. I had visited the village in my youth, and knew there was good people there. My mouth was set grimly, unhappy with the new tactics the Skaldi were displaying.
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Thereza de Soigneux
Military
First Lieutenant
Second in Command to Captain de Etalon
Posts: 233
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Post by Thereza de Soigneux on Aug 1, 2011 14:42:28 GMT -5
The battlefield was chaotic, as much as it was expected to be, and I found myself winding my way deeper and deeper toward the border, running back and forth as though I was confused which areas were friendly and which weren't. My breathing was somewhat heavy from the exertion and adrenaline, but I was still hearty enough to keep doing this longer if I had to. If it didn't work soon though I'd have to come up with another plan. Returning to the Commander without being successful was not an option at this point. Too much counted on this for it to fail.
Then there were the sound of heavy footfalls and a man yelling, and I looked over my shoulder toward the man who was approaching at a breakneck speed, then let my adrenaline work and carry me forward though I wanted to duck sideways where they wouldn't be able to follow. Being run down by a horse was never a pleasant option and I knew enough about them to judge them not the most agile creatures in a pinpoint turn- but no. I had to let myself be herded and ignore the instinct toward survival.
Then there was a fiery wall and I turned around, as though looking for another escape route, as he closed on me. His hand came down and I turned aside, but the blow grazed my scalp enough to daze me, though not enough to cause me to drop unconscious. Nevertheless I gave a clipped cry and slumped, waiting for him to catch me and drag me over his horse, my eyes closed as I tried to remember why I was doing this and to push aside a moment of fear. I was a soldier, my life in battle was always a chancy thing. Maybe he would kill me instead of taking me prisoner, but at least I would have tried.
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Astride Schevlok
Military
Warrior of Skaldia
You may not be interested in strategy, but strategy is interested in you. - Leon Trotsky
Posts: 41
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Post by Astride Schevlok on Aug 2, 2011 0:42:12 GMT -5
The blow landed as I'd tried to inflict it, and I grinned with savage satisfaction as the D'Angeline whore collapsed against the wall. Grabbing her, I hauled her on to my horse, then blew into my horn one of many retreats, back towards the forest where our good men were waiting, where our archers would deal blows, but also where a wagon waited, for taken prisoners.
I heeled and heeled my mount, calling my men to me, “Ya, ya!” I called, and betimes blew the horn, until the forest's protective shadows engulfed us.
As soon as the meadow was in few I dismounted, and proceeded to discharge my loot, hand in her hair, ready to inflict my wrath on her if she resisted.
“Walk,” I ordered in Skaldi – though my tone was enough to make my demand clear.
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Thereza de Soigneux
Military
First Lieutenant
Second in Command to Captain de Etalon
Posts: 233
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Post by Thereza de Soigneux on Aug 4, 2011 8:56:33 GMT -5
As soon as I was onto the back of the horse I forced myself to relax even further while I tried to clear my head; at least while faking being more dazed than I was I could get my thoughts together and decide on a plan of action. For a few reasons I had to pretend that I didn't understand Skaldi, that I had no exceptional skills outside of what was expected of me and definitely that I hadn't ever planned to get caught. The saddle-horn dug into my stomach slightly but I refused to wince, using all of the self-control I could muster not to do so as the horse ran more deeply toward the Skaldi territories.
I opened my eyes and pretended to stir just in time to see us approach a clearing, where the horse was stopped and the man dismounted, tugging me down with a hand in my hair as I scrabbled to follow. His demand was easy enough to understand, especially with the way he was behaving and the cast to his features, but I stayed where I was for a moment, eyes wide in shock and body frozen until another scream from the camp tore through the air to 'break me out of my daze' and send me a step forward.
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Astride Schevlok
Military
Warrior of Skaldia
You may not be interested in strategy, but strategy is interested in you. - Leon Trotsky
Posts: 41
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Post by Astride Schevlok on Aug 5, 2011 12:20:41 GMT -5
I was just about to backhand her when she finally started moving, and I started to walk her to the cart. Really, I didn't have any time to waste with a D'Angeline broad, when there were more of their army to distract and kill.
I marched her there, pushed her into the mix of prisoners, and said to the man guarding the cart that she was mine, and mine alone. He nodded, and off I went, then, to resume yet another violent charge.
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Post by Kendrick Deveroix on Aug 7, 2011 15:55:21 GMT -5
The blood of war. Many times I'd spilt it in the first battle, coming through the frantic pitch of men defending their women and home without so much as a scratch upon me. I returned to the camp to taunt Emeric, teasing and playful, but utterly honest in my gloating. I knew much came down to luck as it did to skill, but it seemed I had both. I'd trained in Alba before taking over the estate, kept my body in fit condition since, another thing that aided me here. My reflexes were sharp, my senses unblemished by the drink, my rage white-hot, and the Skaldic blood flowed from my blade. They could not stop me.
This battle was turning out much the same. Engage, fight, slay, move on. Engage, struggle, fight, maim, move on. Engage, fight, slay, move on... My thoughts abandoned me, and I acted and reacted on instinct alone, turning on heel, keeping my center of balance at all times, my sword moving as if an extension of my arm. I'd lost the company I was stationed with some time back, having been separated nearly instantly from the surprise of the attack, but I didn't worry about it. I was a circle of confidence, a circle of knowledge, a circle of instinct. Anything that entered my circle paid for it. I wasn't the same man I was in the City. Here, I was someone new, closer to the person I used to be, back when Falla lived, back when everything made sense and life held hope for me. Since Fallas death, I'd known naught but hurt and demise, anger and sadness... and that too I took out on the men I engaged battles with.
One particularly nasty man left gash down my ribs, and I panted with the close call, but I did it! He was down, his lifeblood spilling across the earth, and I smirked arrogantly before spinning and turning on. I thought I caught a glimpse of Emeric further on, and without thinking I altered my course to take me closer to him, still striking and arcing. Another man turned to face me, tall and powerful, and I bellowed at him, bearing my teeth as our steel clashed. Strike! Strike! He heaved, he lifted, I blocked and parried, watching his shoulders as much as I watched his wrists, keeping a keen eye on the movement of his body. His sword flicked up and I lifted my sword hand to block it.. and abruptly, my sword fell.
I looked down, astonished and utterly confused at the scene at my feet. My sword lay, glittering and gleaming with the murkiness of fresh blood.. and my hand lay with it, half gripping still, the remainder of my arm still attached to it. Shock carried through every part of my body at the same instant that the pain screamed through me, and I yelled, screaming in agony, my eyes going up to the man before me... only this time there was no arrogance, no mockery, only horror. My smirk lay on his lips now, and he raised his arm to lob my head off as I continued to scream. Out of no where another sword burst through his chest, spraying me with his blood, mingling with that of my own as I fell to my knees. Pain washed through me, pain bled from me, pain flared, overtook everything. I tried to move my arm, tried to stop screaming, but I couldn't.
I bled.
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Post by Emeric Deveroix on Aug 7, 2011 16:45:23 GMT -5
The Skaldi attack was unexpected, cowardly, barbaric and at the same time completely exhilarating- well, at least after the last spit of time where there had been nothing at all to do while the wounded recovered. My brother and I had both come out unscathed and traded our stories, mine of the valiant rescue of an old man who should never have been on the battlefield and the lady he'd gotten from behind enemy lines, his of the men he'd killed. The Deveroix brothers cutting a swath through the battle- it was fitting. We were gods of war.
Now it was the same and I could see my brother fighting in brief glimpses as I cut down my own foes. They were entering and retreating, the camp was in chaos, but I ignored it all. This was the fighting I was more used to, holding my own. I'd gotten better at remembering the formations and the members of my company, but with the abruptness of the attack it was almost impossible to meet up with anyone specific. Besides, it was better to keep an eye on Kendrick. He was my family and finally coming free of some of that dark cloud he'd hidden under for who knows how long.
Then there was a hoarse scream in a voice I recognized and I quickly finished off the beared savage I'd been fighting to race over there, jumping over the other writhing bodies in my way. There was my brother, blood gushing from where his arm had been. No. I didn't want to be the hero this way, I hadn't enjoyed telling the story that much! One of those bastards still stood across from him as my brother's face was frozen in shock and I ran up to them, stabbing the Skaldi through the back as I kicked him aside and my brother crumpled.
Shouting in rage still I caught him as he fell and threw his other arm over my shoulder to keep him up as I started to pull him from the battle. "Kendrick, come on, stay awake!" I urged as we went, feeling desperately enraged and unable to do anything about it. These monsters would pay!
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