RE: The Rise of Domrius (Full Version)

All Forums >> [Gaming Community] >> [Role Playing] >> Role Playing



Message


Kellehendros -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (12/11/2014 23:20:09)

At the end of the first day of fighting the Alliance emerged victorious, and without heavy losses. They had chosen, however, not to push their momentum forward. Some scholars fault Koros Jarn for not pressing the advantage, forcing the retreating Vendreti against the Alquen regulars to disorganize their ranks, and forcing Domrius’ soldiers out of the pass entirely. They say such an action would have allowed the Allies time to fortify the head of the pass, and thus hold off Domrius’ forces indefinitely. Others point out that the Allied forces were outnumbered and tired from fighting, and pushing against the regulars would, at best, have resulted in a victory worthy of the infamous Terran tactician Pyrrhus.

Others can speculate. For our purposes, we are concerned only with the facts, insofar as they can be established. The Vendreti auxiliary retreated, and the Alquen regulars began to dig in, establishing a base of forward operations at the head of the pass. They waited, watching as the Allies withdrew to their own camp, and then took their own turn to recover the bodies of the fallen. So far as can be ascertained, this arrangement held for the first few days of the battle, until things took a rather drastic turn…




Morning dawned over the chaos of the Allied camp, and Enric was up with the sun, standing before his tent and staring away east, towards the Alquen encampment. Behind him sprawled the Alliance’s encampment, segmented off into individual sections made up of each nation’s soldiers. There was no overall plan or layout. The commanders had pitched their tents where they found suitable space, and as a result the camp was a piecemeal thing, organized carefully in individual segments, but otherwise lacking a planned structure.

The state of the Allied camp was not on Enric’s mind, however. Hammering, sawing, and the other sounds of men at work had echoed through the pass over the night, and the results of the regulars’ labor was coming into dim focus as the sun crept into the sky, suffusing the backdrop with a sullen red light.

“They’ll come at us again today.”

Enric glanced over his shoulder, managing the smallest of smiles at his old friend, Dalen. Dalen Teros had a dour disposition, which hadn't been helped in the least by the loss of his left hand in the siege of Castle Daret. “You said that every morning for four months, while we stood on the battlements and watched those Gen dogs nerve themselves up to storm the walls.”

“And I was right every time, wasn't I?”

Snorting, Enric nodded. “But we threw them back every time too, and it wasn't exactly like forecasting the weather, now was it?”

Dalen grunted, looking up at the sky. “It’s going to be a hot one today.”

“When isn’t it, when there’s fighting to be done?” Enric motioned for Dalen to follow him, and headed off for the meeting tent where the commanders were to gather.

Within, the meeting tent was dominated by a large trestle table surrounded by camp stools and chairs. Upon the table was laid out a map of the Gripclaw Pass, set with markers and indicators for the Allied forces. Enric watched as an aide referenced a report in his hand, making additions to the map to reflect the presence of the Alquen regulars at the head of the pass.



Domrius’ men had been busy. Work parties had been hauling through the night, carting immense amounts of timber felled during the battle up to the head of the pass. Alquen’s War College had turned out no shortage of engineers and architects, and the regulars had dug and shaped and crafted, throwing up an impressive wall of squared off logs overnight, including a trench before it. Having established a foothold at the head of the pass, Domrius showed no inclination to give the Allies back an inch of ground.



The meeting tent also featured a second long table against one wall, set with food and drinks for the commanders during their deliberations. Enric sat, staring at the map as the other Allied commanders came in after their morning activities.

He waited for them to settle themselves, and then motioned vaguely towards the map. “A scout returned, my lords. Domrius’ forces marshal. More infantry, pikes, from what the scout saw.” His expression dimmed slightly. “Pikes and archers. Still, it is not all so grim. The scouts also informed me that reinforcements are arriving. A group of smiths from the Three Duchies have come, as have scouts from the Consortium of Zara. How do we proceed?”




Bastet -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (12/12/2014 15:07:54)

The wind playfully moved the girl’s braid around as she overlooked the tents of her would-be allies’ camp. As her eyes darted from tent to tent, from soldier to soldier, she wondered if she could actually fit between an army obviously not inclined for stealth and guerrilla as she was. She regret leaving her homeland, but her resolve was unshakable: Zara would not be taken over by another despot immediately after the last one was defeated through a desperate struggle.
I wonder if I really was such an icon for the uprising that those men are willing to follow orders from a nineteen years old girl. As good as I may be, everywhere I look there are men thrice my age.
She was startled by a voice coming from just under the mound she was observing the camp from, but relaxed as it was recognized as familiar. The voice of the man her country would never forget.
“You’ll have to get off that rock sooner or earlier, before the battle for this pass is over.”
“It still surprises me that a mountain of a man like you is able to sneak around just as well as me, and always seem to know where I am. You have a secret, and one day I’ll find it out.”
The man chuckled, walking back towards the newly-estabilished Zaran camp. The tent that housed his improvised workshop varied greatly from the ones reserved for the infiltrators, being much less anonymous than theirs. They were carefully placed as farther away from the battlefield as possible, to make an eventual escape easier.
Ishia left her weapons at her own shelter before finally heading for the command tent. She wasn’t intimidated by the warriors and their imposing figures, for she knew that what raw strenght they had over her she could make it up with skill and agility. After thoroughly observing the maps of the pass on the table, a seat wasn’t hard to find. The Zaran representative observed the other commanders as they came in.




I’ll never be able to fight efficiently with these brutes stumbling around on the battlefield. Much less if I follow their orders. Let’s just hope they have enough brains to listen to me.
Ishia waited for who she presumed to be Enric Artos to be done talking, then stood up and cleared her throat.
Here goes nothing.
“Commanders, I am Ishia Rinchen and represent Zara. As some of you may know, we recently defeated the dictator that ruled our country and are open to the external world again. I will stand by your side for the rest of this confrontation between us and our common enemy, it is my country’s best interest not to be overtaken again. I may have brought only have brought thirteen troops and a military engineer with me, but I assure you we are the best infiltrators you will ever have the privilege to work with. We each armed with crossbows, and our melee fighting style involves the use of a sabre and a swordbreaker. Unlike most of you, though, we mostly defeat our enemies using subterfuge. As such, considering how different our troops are, we’d like to be unshackled from the strategy most of the army will be following each day of fighting: we would be vastly more effective that way. That said, I assure all of you we will be able to pull our weight efficiently, and we won’t be deaf to directives. Obviously, we are more than willing to carry out any kind of sabotage, assassination or reconnaisance missions.”
Ishia went back to her seat, curious to hear what the commanders’ answer would be. Her eyes darted to the food on a secondary table, as she hadn’t eaten anything since she finally arrived at Gripclaw Pass, but she decided it would have to wait until the meeting was over.




Dragonnightwolf -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (12/14/2014 4:42:21)

Thanisgard: The requiem of death: Phase 1: Trevor As the main commander of Thanisgard wiped his forehead he gazed at Cory. "Do I even need to ask?" Cory gave him a grim look and raised up one full hand and one finger. "I see." He swung himself off the horse with ease and gazed at the battle lines. His face was drawn and his eyes revealed nothing. Six loyal men had perished. So too did the warhorses. Luckily, Thanisgard calvary came with enough horses.

Thanisgard: The requiem of death: Phase 1: Cory The battle was over and Cory was more than relieved. His entire leg was throbbing. "Do I even need to ask?" He heard Trevor say. Cory had seen the men go down himself. The screams. Cory held up a full hand and a singer finger. "I see." He heard Trevor reply. Cory looked down for a moment. A brief pause. All of those that died were part of his troops. He was in charge and he had lost six.

"May as well go to the camp." Cory motioned with his hand and his men acknowledged the movement. They stopped to pick up the dead soldiers and carried them back for burial.

Thanisgard: The requiem of death: Phase 1: Thomas The veteran that was Thomas frowned as he looked toward the front lines. He knew each man by face and realized as the six were being carried away. That Alec, Tom, Dave, Josiah, Ebediza and Larry were gone.
Thomas made a motion with his hand for the 20 with him. "To camp." He said simply. But. In his heart Thomas vowed revenge for those who died.

Thanisgard: The requiem of death: Phase 1: Harry "Archers. return to camp." Harry ordered looking at the mages and giving a brief wave of his hand in respect. Harry gazed ahead wondering how the hand battlers had done such a job of being represented.

Thanisgard: The requiem of death: Phase 2: Trevor and Cory Back at the campground, Cory entered Trevor's tent. "Trevor I. I must ask to be reprieved during the next assault."

"What? Why?" "I. Sir. I have sustained a. slight injury. I must insist I be reprieved." Trevor gazed intently at his sub-ordinate. The man would not ask this unless he was in real pain.

"Very well Cory. You shall stay at camp during the next battle phase."

Thanisgard: The requiem of death: Phase 3: Intelligence conference: Trevor Trevor was less than pleased when he walked into the strategy structure meant for them to confer.

Harry and Thomas followed in his wake. Cory was not among them.

He waited until everyone had entered. Listening closely to the news of arrivals and the news of what weapons awaited them.

Something had bothered him. Trevor had heard noise coming from the other side of the pass. Construction or something.

Trevor finally stood up and walked to the center. He saw the new arrival who chose to speak first. He also noted the look she gave. He turned his attention to the table of food and picked up a piece of fruit and handed it politely to her. "You look hungry. Please eat something while we discuss our options."

Trevor also heard her words about asking to deviate from the general plan. "If you wish to work as a separate unit." The man gave her a long focused look. "Then so be it."

Trevor turned his attention on the hand-to-hand commander. "If. I may be so polite as to ask. What happened out there? The line nearly broke! We could have lost an entire battalion of archers and mages." Trevor holds his temper in check while speaking, keeping his voice calm and polite. "We already face overwhelming odds. We cannot let the enemy have such opportunities or it will cost us dearly."

Trevor looks at the fellow commanders. "There was a commotion coming from the other side of the pass last night. I could hear quite a deal of racket from the enemy. I'm sure some of you probably heard it as well. That leads to my concern. An army that big. They likely have specialists. You know, builders, workers with skill in perhaps mechanics. Maybe they have an alchemist. I don't know. But I don't like it."

"Fellow commanders we need to take the fight to them. We did well yesterday in defense. But I regret my decision to hold my men back. Had I chosen to let them continue the charge. We'd have at least made some kind of chaos. But I was concerned with the other forces out there."

Trevor took a deep breath and stared at the map. "We need to strike them hard and we need to strike them fast. Doing as much damage as we can with as little casualties."

He pointed out some possibilities. "We could take archers and split them into three groups. Shoot from both the sides and the straight back. " He pointed out the second possibility. "We could blow up the pass. Set careful charges and lure the enemy into a trap."

Trevor took another deep breath and closed a fist before pointing at a third possibility. "Lastly, we could set some of the mages upon horseback to ride with some of my sword fighters. once we get close enough, the men could dismount the horse while the mages stay on. Defense and attack at the same time."

Trevor went and sat back down.




TJByrum -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (12/14/2014 14:59:57)

The night was a loud one. The Varan troops laughed, cheered, and sung songs of victories. The battle had been won, and it was a well-earned, well-executed victory at that. Domrius would need to think twice before attacking again. Volrun, however, was not part of this celebration. He sat outside of Koro's tent, sitting atop an old wooden crate used to carry salted foods. Within he could hear a drunken Koros loudly yelling to one of the Cart-drivers as they wrote down a report of the battle, to be sent back to Asgeir.

"Not up for celebration?" A feminine voice caused Volrun to cock his head sideways, watching Aesa approach.

"No, not exactly," Volrun replied. "I have the honored privilege of speaking to the Grey Eagle," he continued in a sarcastic manner.

Aesa caught onto the sarcasm. She turned her head towards the rest of the camp. Large groups of Varan sat around their fires, having a good time as they celebrated the victory. "What's the problem," she asked as she sat down beside him on the ground.

"Sometimes a commander tells you to do things. Sometimes you're obligated to follow through with those things, no matter the cost. But sometimes... sometimes you have to make your own choices. Sometimes you have to do what you think is right. Do you understand?"

She thought about it for a moment. It made sense to her, especially after fighting in the battle. "I know exactly what you mean. Like killing another person... sometimes you know it's not the right thing to do."

Volrun looked over at her. He not only saw the pain in her eyes, he could feel it. She had killed today, and she did not enjoy it. It was a nostalgic moment though, as it brought back memories of Volrun's first killing: a mere bandit. "Don't let it bother you. You get use to it overtime... but yeah, that's what I'm talking about. You just have to believe you're doing the right thing. You need to believe that, whoever it was that you killed, now they'll never have the chance to kill you, me, or our allies." The two Varan looked each other in the eyes, feeling a sense of connection. It was surreal...

The moment was ruined as Koros limped out of his tent. "Wha... Val... Vol... Volrun?" The drunken commander had to stabilize himself up against a stack of crates. "Get in here you... dishonorable slab..."

Volrun sighed. Oh how the mighty Varan are led by such a respectable commander, he sarcastically thought. "See you on the battlefield, Aesa," he said to the woman as he stood up and walked towards the tent.

As Volrun and the drunken Koros entered the large tent, Koros fell onto his hear in his makeshift 'throne'. The Thanes shook their heads, obviously annoyed at the degrading general. "You are hereby sentenced to... non-fighting on the battlefield for... however long you are not able." The gibberish of the drunken commander made no sense.

One of the Thanes stepped forward, "For your disobedience on the battlefield, the Grey Eagle has decided to instate an act of probation. Your services as an adviser are no longer required. You are not permitted to enter the next battle. You are no longer permitted a place within the ranks of the Huskarls afterwards. I am sorry Volrun, but these are the demands of our commander."

Volrun sighed at such a dishonorable act. "I... I understand." The Thane nodded in acceptance and stepped back into his place. By then Koros was passed out, his body slumped in his chair. "I understand I still have free reign to patrol, though, correct?"

"Indeed," the Thane replied. "Actions outside of the camp are not controlled by our war leaders. Although desertion is still forbidden."

"Good," Volrun replied, "I'll be out, hunting."




The other commanders had gathered within the tent the next morning alongside Enric and began to discuss the new strategy. Pikes and archers were up next, but Domrius had to have a trick up his sleeve this time around. This time though, things would be different: Koros Jarn, the Grey Eagle, was not present at the meeting. Trevor of Thanisgard had just finished with his own strategy when one of the Varan Thanes entered the tent.

"Excuse me my lords," the Thane began, "Koros Jarn has ordered the Varan to stand down today. We will not be present in the battle. There are... other plans in progress. Our apologies and luck go with you. Perhaps our commander feels that today is not a good day to fight. Koros has, however, promoted me, Worun Nulgard, as adviser. Volrun Valgard has been relived of his services. I have been ordered to oversee your strategy, however."




Dragonnightwolf -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (12/16/2014 21:47:24)

Thanisgard: Concern: Subtle Phase: When the newcomer entered. Trevor lifted his head. Upon hearing word of the "promotion" and the removal of Volrun the commander stood up once more. He held his temper in check once more. The removal of a worthy warrior who had the good sense to know.. This was absolutely ridiculous. "Well. Congratulations Worun. Though the news of the stand down is acknowledged, it is at a considerably questionable time. When. you see Volrun again, please tell the fellow that the leader of the Thanisgard army wishes to speak with him privately."

He glanced back at the other commanders seriously. "With this. sudden news it seems we will need to come up with perhaps something of a stealth battle. With one unit of our armies standing down, not to mention one of my own sub-commanders, there will be less men on the battlefield. I still think we should use the archer's to our advantage. But this creates a problem now. I am sure that noise in the night was for a good reason and I am concerned that what was heard, may likely be some kind of weapon to use against us. Therefore, we have a few alterations in our plan of strategy. We can hit them hard and fast, which at this announcement, is less likely to work. We can try a stealth tactic involving either luring the enemy into a trap, attacking from 2 angled sides with our archers, or we can try some sort of diversionary tactic. What we decide though, will have to be without the aid of the Varan.

Trevor turned his eyes back on the new advisor. Giving the man a long measured stare. Than he once again returned to his seat. This sudden change of events concerned him. Something about all this felt. wrong. Trevor couldn't place his finger on what it was. Instinct, general intuitive intelligence, good observation, a trick of the fatigued mind perhaps? Whatever it was, Trevor did not like the way it made him feel one bit.




Zephyrial -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (12/17/2014 7:40:07)

For Sayden and his men, the battle had ended almost as soon as it had begun. Following their successful attack on the Alquen light infantry, the battle had quickly degenerated into an outright brawl - a place for those who could swing a sword, and no others. Unable to leverage their magic to interfere in the melee without fear of harming their allies or aiding their enemies, the mages had retreated respectfully to the rear, and participated no more. The men of the Oramus Collective had not entirely escaped misfortune; despite their best efforts, three of the Sentinels had fallen to enemy projectiles, shielding the vulnerable mages with their bodies and their lives. After the battle, Sayden had met with Captain Grazos, offering his heartfelt gratitude for his men's sacrifice, and his condolences. The Captain had accepted him with courtesy and his usual lackadaisical manner, but Sayden had sensed the pain and loss that hid behind his smile - the pain of losing friends and comrades.

Soon, I may have to struggle through the same.

Shaking off his stupor, Sayden rose from the chair where he had sat, slumped, for the past half an hour. Having slept deep and long, he had risen to meet the new day, donned his robes and prepared to make his rounds... only for a sudden fit to strike him down, robbing him of his senses and sending him into convulsions that wracked his body and scourged his mind. He had only just managed to make it to his tent before it reduced him to a wreck, and he thanked the Lords that none of his men had witnessed his weakness. The attacks had grown more frequent every year, and now he found he could barely make it two days without suffering an episode. The cause was no mystery - he had delved too deep into the arcane, taken risks in his blind ambition that had nearly halved his lifespan. Now, he was paying the price... Breathing deeply, he inched his way over to the chest that lay in the corner of the tent, steadying himself on the velveteen walls as he moved. Flipping open the catch, he located the small oaken box that held the only medicine that had proven even slightly effective at easing his symptoms, and took a double dose. The elixir seared its way through his body, and at last he felt relief - but only in his body.

That was the worst attack I've had for a while. Even if we do win here, I wonder how long I'll have before my body gives out? All my hopes and dreams are slipping away from me... But now that blood has been shed in my name, I can not give up. I have a duty to the Collective and to my men. I have to carry on, even if it kills me...

Straightening his robes, he steeled his nerves and stepped out of the tent into the harsh light of morning. The mages had already begun to rise - ordinarily he beat them, but today he lagged behind. Thankfully, no-one questioned his tardiness. Having not suffered a single loss, and with their exemplary showing at yesterday's battle, spirits remained high in the mage camp despite the unpleasant conditions. The same could not be said for the Alliance camp as a whole, as murmurings of discontent had begun to spread after the carnage of the first battle - the position of Supreme Commander, it seemed, was not without its drawbacks. Sweating a little from the heat, Sayden exchanged respectful nods with those he passed as he made his way towards the command tent. Passing the Sentinels camp, he was slightly dismayed to see the remains of a funeral pyre still smoking gently in the middle of the encampment. Grazos cast him a cheery wave as he passed, but he received nothing but blank expressions from the lounging mercenaries.



Sayden was among the last to arrive at the commanders' tent, although he succeeded in doing so before the meeting began. A tempting array of refreshments beckoned to him from the far side of the tent, but despite his hunger, he still wasn't entirely certain that his constitution would be able to handle solid food. Instead, he poured himself a small cup of water from the proffered flagon before taking his seat at the table.

A few unfamiliar faces were among them. One, a girl of tender years but with a warrior's demeanour, was the first to speak. Introducing herself as a representative of the Consortium of Zara, she detailed her troops' unique capabilities before requesting leave to operate independently. Although Sayden did not speak, he joined in the general murmur of assent. If nothing else, he knew the value of irregular forms of warfare. Next came the Thanisgard leader. Surprisingly, he acknowledged the criticisms that had been made of his refusal to pursue and destroy the fleeing enemy. For what it was worth, Sayden did not consider this to be a great error; he allowed himself a moment of satisfaction at the image of the surviving barbarians fleeing for their lives, covered in burns. He doubted that they would ever return to the battlefield. He could not help but raise an eyebrow, however, at the knight's suggestion that his mages leave the safety of the rear to become shock cavalry. Before he could shoot down this nonsensical idea, however, an unfamiliar Varan entered the tent and delivered some unpleasant news. Fists clenched, Sayden made his contribution to the atmosphere of anger which now filled the room.

Only one day, and already these slack-jawed hill tribes are losing their discipline. Presumably this is the result of some sort of internal disagreement... don't these cretins understand what's at stake here?

Anger turned to sullen dismay as the commanders mulled over this new development. Finally, the Thanisgard leader spoke once more, putting into words the unease they all felt. Sensing that the time for him to speak had arrived, Sayden rose and delivered his recommendations, his tone subdued.

"I concur with the Thanisgard commander's concerns. With nearly one tenth of our forces out of action at a stroke, we will need to act with even more care than yesterday if we are to repel the next attack. I doubt stealth will work, however - the Alquen forces got more than a good look at our forces already, and I do not believe they will be so foolish as to fall for a simple trick so soon after getting our measure. This new development could work either to our detriment or to our advantage, depending on the decisions of the Alquen commander. It is possible that they will suspect foul play if they see that a large portion of our front line is absent, and so attack with a little less ferocity. But should they choose to disregard this risk, they could go all out in an attempt to overwhelm us.

Regardless, it is clear that we will yet again have to adopt a defensive strategy. Putting our archers to better use will be crucial to our survival, and I posit that my mages will be crucial to theirs. Apologies, Thanisgard commander, but I'm afraid they are not the type to ride horses. What they can do, however, is erect barriers that can block incoming projectiles yet allow our own archers' to pass through. If our close-combat forces can hold off the enemy infantry, together we can whittle down the enemy forces more or less continuously.

The final point I would like to address is the question of Alquen's little construction project. While defensive structures are a given, we cannot rule out the possibility that they have also been constructing weapons, perhaps in the form of siege engines. If this turns out to be the case, it could prove a problem. In that event, it might be a good opportunity for our arrivals from Zara to prove their worth. We must remain flexible and prepared to adapt to changing conditions. Thank you."

With a grave expression, he returned to his seat, pleased that he had managed to keep the tremor out of his voice. His mages' contribution to yesterday's battle should, he hoped, lend his words some weight, but any sign of weakness could be seized upon by the Collective's enemies. No matter what, he had to keep it together on the field.




Ronin Of Dreams -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (12/17/2014 21:13:09)

While age brought about more than its fair share of aches, pains, and stiffness; it also brought about one easily overlooked boon. Jakaero and his men rose before dawn, more due to being a conglomerate of relatively old men than a pressed reville of the troops. While the younger members such as Constantine mumbled about the hour, the elders joked and rebutted about sore bones and lack of cushions from the camp lifestyle. They had seen the pass before setting up camp the night before, leaving them only a few miles to march as the sun began to crest over the crag-hidden horizon. None argued that it would be nice to reach their destination at last, however.

With whipcracks and the steady cadence of horseshoes upon cobbled road, the small support column made good time towards the Alliance that awaited relief. An advance vanguard separated from the mixed smiths and labourers, pressing hard astride horses more suited to speed than the raw strength of the draft horses pulling carts behind them. The reason for this was simple, in being ‘late’ to the party, Jakaero wished to bring his command echelon forward and reconnoiter how best to integrate the artisans with the Alliance forces. For the majority of the pass itself, no one ventured much in the way of comment, although Orric often remarked about the lack of evident rear security. That groups of men seemed to be heading back towards the forested areas on the Alliance side of the pass went unremarked, its what support groups tended to do. Gather wood, fresh food, and the like.

As the encampments of the allies themselves came into view, however, Orric exploded into a string of curses. Jakaero was no more pleased, though Constantine and Naysmith both were left looking at each other in confusion for a time. “Look at this rabbled mess, Ja! They have no rhyme or reason, nor established defense at the choke of the pass.”

“Easy, Orric. There are a few banners down there that might be mage or wizard enclaves. We can hope it is but crafted illusions.”

“Illusions? Phah! How often did you run into any of those out in the field?”

Jakaero frowned for a moment, mulling over a response as Orric spit off to one side in disgust. The financial backer of the artisanal band, however, stroked his scraggly beard lightly. “It seems to me...either this is an elaborate trap or a lack of cohesion among leaders. Remember those annual councils when Garm was Chief Blacksmith?”

“Aye. Every year he tried to pound down our throats a greater cut to the guild.” Jakaero’s frown shifted into a wistful smile borne of nostalgia. “Not that we ever did...but that gives me an idea, Nay. I want you to head back to the men and tell them to make a temporary camp here, divided into squads. It might be a mile or so out from the rest, but I think it may be wise to go ahead and assume the alliance will have to fall back...in fact, plan on it. Get the laborers to help unload the carts, half with the camp and leave half of the supplies up at the crest of the pass. Then break them into labor teams. Three men out of every five forms into a lumber team, which we should have enough saws for, the rest into work pairs. I’ll send along orders with Constantine for them after talking to the Allied Command. We’ll use the sign of the gilded seal for now, for official orders.”

With a huff, the former Factor gave Jakaero a nod before turning his richly endowed horse around to head back up to the column. Orric waited until Nay was out of earshot before remarking on the idea. “Hah, he wants to play tin soldiers and run a squad! Sticking him with busywork like that...sly dog. But I don’t like how you are planning for a retreat and regroup.”

“Can’t be helped, if this isn’t a design by chaos to entrap or entice our opposite numbers, then this setup might be a whole host of leaders playing tin soldiers. Nay is the least of our issues, anyway.” With a cluck of his tongue, Jakaero got the three back into motion.

“Is there anything I can do, Jakaero?” The question was almost timid, coming as it did from the youngest of the command echelon, but that didn’t mean it was unexpected. Constantine always had been somewhat soft-spoken for someone born into a royal lineage, even if distantly so. It was one of the reasons Jakaero was grateful to have him along. It was when words fell way to action that he wound up being more of a handful.

“No. I think for now you need to experience what command is like, so shadow me. Orric will be the runner in that...encampment they have down there.”

Orric snorted. “What! I’m yer elder, you upstart brat. Why are you making me do any of the running around with a missive here and a ‘if it please you’ there?!”

“Because, Orric, you also have a habit of getting things done. So once we get down there, I want you to find others who equally want to get things done, and round up a few men of the Alliance for me. Scouts, enough to form a pair of three-men squads, capable of mountaineering enough to get up the cliffside and give us some overwatch. Harass lieutenants or centurions or what have you until they give you the men, if you must, but help gear them up from our supplies. Then see if any of...well, any of what I hope are mage banners...have earthmovers in their number. I’ll get a better idea of what we should get building after seeing plans, but I’ll be sending them back with you to Naysmith.”

With a roll of the eyes, Orric grunted softly. “And would yer majesty be wanting anything else?” With a soft smile, Jakaero nodded, making Orric frown for even thinking to ask.

“Grab some spare banners, if they have any. One from each force, so we can mark which artisans will work on which forces’ gear.”

“Ah. Smart. Saves some hassle, too, so I can’t mind that particular task too terribly much. And I can shout, yell, and curse at the others, can I?”

“No. Well...somewhat. I don’t expect we will be making many friends with this mess, but we are still supposed to be allies, so don’t treat lesser commanders too badly. Take the seal of Tinsal with you, in case there are any issues you can’t talk your way out of, and feel free to remind them that we are providing a service for which...they don’t look like they brought any men to even do. Odd.”




The three rode on with a mix of frowns and concern drawing their expressions tight, with even the inexperienced Constantine picking up on the problems the others had identified from quite the distance out. With tents and campfires strewn almost haphazardly, the Alliance forces were inviting defeat-in-detail by a night raid almost as badly as inviting any number of camp-borne illnesses and detriments. Orric had no qualms about making disgusted sounds and gestures to vent his mounting frustration, but Jakaero kept his emotions close to his chest. The commanders themselves might turn his expectations around.

Dismounting as they approached the command pavilion, Orric snorted one last time and shot Jakaero a rather blatant yet knowing glare. The sounds of a discussion already in progress filtered through the open tent flaps, as did the scent of alluring food. Only the latter would be a perk to the morning at this point, and Jakaero led Constantine into the tent as Orric peeled off for his duties. Defense by democracy, by the sounds of it...I won’t be seeing Sasha and Melissande again, will I?]

Calmly, Jakaero waited for the lull following the wrap up of another elderly man, though age apparently had not treated the representative from the Oramus Collective nearly as kindly. That, or perhaps the ravages of learning magic were wasteful to the body, just as the workings of a smithy tended to build the body up. “Greetings, commanders. I am Jakaero Corosco, representative leader of a group of artisans coming out of Tinsal, Elan, and Galvain come to aid the cause. We’ve ridden ahead of our convoy by a touch, but they should be setting up an encampment about a mile to the rear shortly enough. I’ve brought with me Constantine of Galvain to help handle any issues as we set up the repair depots for each organization.”




black knight 1234567 -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (12/19/2014 14:53:38)

The battle was over, and the Alliance has won the right to live another day. Even though Gilrade's participation was brief, it was vital to ensure the line could be held and the enemy troops driven back, but alas there is no battle without sacrifice. For the two dead bodies hunched over Garin's stead were his own men, no matter how small, a loss is a loss. Garin always favored writing letters of condolences to his men's family by his own hand, he did not look forward to it this time.

''Your highness, what are going to do with the bodies?'' a faint voice from one of his own personal guard asked.
''Sending the bodies home is out of the question, I suppose. We burn them, as is our custom. They deserve a proper ceremony''
The royal guard was quick to turn his focus back on the road, a clear voice of distaste in Fellwalker's voice encouraged that. But the awkward silence wouldn't last long, as they were closing in on their camp, the rest of their forces already arrived before their commander.

They paused as the camp's entrance, the soldiers carrying their fallen brethren as the steads were hitched nearby. In contrast with the night before the battle however, there was an air of optimism around. Garin could even detect some smiles and lighthearted banter in between the troops, but that was quickly interrupted as they all stood to attention once however.
One habit that won't ever break, will it? the commander almost formed a smile. Almost

As the burning pyres were being prepared for the dead, the banner of Gilrade waving proudly above, Garin head over towards the meeting, no doubt already underway by now. Without even leaving his weaponry behind, he was quickly met with several new faces. What seemed to be a new representative of the Varan, and a mysterious woman. The scion of Thanisgard, Trevor, mentioned the Varan sitting out the next battle.
With an aura of confidence, Garin quickly turned his attention towards the other commanders, taking a look at the plans infront of them, he couldn't help but voice concerns over the missing Varan.
''I assume since the Varan are out of battle, the bulk of our forces are missing. At this point, they've seen our defenses, but they haven't seen our offense. The Varan served as our first wall of defense, thus weakening our stance. I say we go in, one big rush. The Alquen regulars are most likely expecting another defensive stand, take them out by surprise and that may win us the day''
''I suggest we make use of Thanisgard's cavalry with our archers on support, the Mages could take a more offensive stance aswell, showering the regulars with the power of the elements while my troops and the Kulaki cover the edges, striking midst all the chaos''.

But of course, Fellwalker hasn't forgotten the unfamiliar new face. He gazed upon her before asking:
''And who would you be, exactly?''




Draycos777 -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (12/20/2014 16:02:33)

Articis listened with a grim face as the Varan messenger, Worun, announced the removal of Volrun and the lack of Varan troops in today's battle.

Ytha scoffed at the newest commander, Ishia's, idea of acting on her own accord. "You really think you're the only one that knows a little stealth play around here?" Ytha played around with a needle she seemed to pull out of no way to emphasised her own training in the stealth arts. "The commanders here are more then capable for using your unit in whatever plans they come up with." Ytha said no more then this tho as Articis put up a hand for her to stop.

"While I understand your need of wanting to act by yourself with your kind of training. We must, if anything, act in a uniformed unit on the battlefield. If you were to be caught and killed while following your own missions, it would only hurt the alliance rather then help it." Articis state his and Ytha's option without causing the uproar that might have taken place if he let his more then 'confrontational to outsiders' daughter speak.

"Domrius is no fool, I'm more then sure he's expecting that sort of attack from us, having dealt with the southern tribes."

Looking over towards Trevor, Articis continued his input. "As for what they are building on the Alquen side and how to destroy whatever surprise they might have, the kingdom of Je might be able to help there." While saying this, Ytha pulled out a small bomb, about the size of her hand, out of a leather pack she had carried with her to the meeting.

"We also heard the construction last night so I had these prepared. Our kingdom boost the best experts in bomb and explosion making this side of the pass. Having wood catch fire in this heat will be no problem." Articis pulled on a wool string that came out of the bomb's iron-cast shell. "They work on a delay action principle. The bigger the bomb the longer the wait but the bigger the blast. The one you see in front of you is a one minute delay. Good for taking out one-two soldiers or just to cause panic. Soldiers hit with this will die from blood-loss caused by missing hands or feet and debris entering their body, instead of the actually impact. The five minute bomb will be what you're looking for, strong enough to start a forest fire in the right climate or in our case burn down whatever Domrius has decide to make. Normally back home we roll these down hillsides into groups of enemies, but this job also suits it. If Domrius is wise, which I'm sure he is, he'll have treated the wood to be safe from fire arrows. In this case the impact of the explosion will splitter and crack the wood, in which case he'll at the very least have to rebuilt whatever it was. "

Articis rubbed his chin and continued on. "By then we'll know what it is, what kind of structures he's fond of making and be better prepared. Knowledge is strength in this kind of fight and right now Domrius has the upperhand." Ytha put the bomb back in the pack and finished Articis' input for him.

"The last bomb takes fifteen minutes to go off, but the blast is amazing! Normally we hide this bomb in the ground to take out cavalry units so it is made a little different then the other two. It is built big to house a tiny inductor. There are two reasons for this. First, this keeps the fire inside burning while the bomb is covered in dirt. And secondly, in order to keep people from seeing it make the ground stick out you have to bury it deep but it gets cold like that so to keep the flame going it needs an inductor of sorts. Once you stick the flame in the hole and the wool in the inductor compartment catches fire there's no way to stop it once you close the compartment door, so it's best to already have dug the hole before hand. So once you light it up, cover up the hole quickly or make the bomb look harmless and get out of range, 'cus after fifteen minutes..."

Ytha threw her arms in the air to mimic an explosion. "Baboom! Everything in twelve feet of the bomb is going to have a bad day."

Having said her part Ytha sat down and with a smile on her face ate along with her sister.

"Any other suggestion?" Articis asked the commanders, Je's part finished.

"I need to visit my old friend before the battle starts." Articis reminded himself. "He said that he had 'found something interesting' in the woods.




Bastet -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (12/20/2014 19:24:00)

You just gave up the lives of those who gave you your own. Most people would be emotionally broken by now.

I sacrificed the first quarter of my life for the sake of this country. Letting the coming battle for the pass play out without ensuring Zara’s safety would make everything I did until now meaningless.

You’re close to outdoing your own master. I’ll have your escort ready by tomorrow, there’s no time to waste.





Ishia was taken by surprise. She wasn’t sure what to think about the commander from Thanisgard, who seemed to show a degree of concern for her. Distractedly chewing on the fruit, she was pleased to hear an initial assent to her request.
Obtaining and maintaining autonomy was her foremost priority: no matter the outcome of the upcoming battles, it would allow her to ensure that her true mission would be a success.

She was much less pleased to hear of the Varans’ absence, however. As little as she valued her allies, she knew that if a significant chunk of the allied forces refused to fight the chances of an unexpected defeat would rise.
Not much of her attention was lent to the banter about what strategy should be picked. If everything went according to her plans, she wouldn’t have to worry about it.

One named Jakaero Corosco, of rugged appearance, seemed to have brought with himself a cadre of expert smiths and repairmen. She spoke without standing up, but only Jakaero needed to hear her.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to decline the offer. Our equipment is delicate and unique, and I would only trust the person who built it to repair it. Said man has already set up his workshop in our own camp, and I’m fairly confident to say we can handle our own maintenance.”

Of course, the chances of nobody contesting Ishia’s claim to battlefield independence were slim. She knew it, but the commanders from Gilrade and Je still stuck out like a sore thumb from the assenting leaders.
The former immediately made it obvious that it would bring the Zaran trouble: he voted against granting her autonomy even before knowing who she was. When the question came, Ishia felt baffled. Like before, she spoke with a low voice as not to bother those discussing actual tactics.
“Ishia Rinchen, of Zara. My troops are stealth specialists, and our efficiency would increase if we received autonomy from the army. We can’t carry out the covert missions no one else can if we are bound to the battlefield.”

Ishia went close to losing her temper when a woman from Je loudly demonstrated her supposedly superior stealth expertise. While she appreciated the primary commander’s restraint, and attentively listened to his monologue about Je’s explosive devices, she knew that her autonomy was at risk. Standing up again, she spoke to the military leaders again.

“I thank those who would trust us to carry out our own missions, but I also have a proposal for those who don’t. From what I’ve gathered, a common concern is the desire to know what Domrius is building behind the fortifications he’s expected to have erected. I will organize a reconnaisance mission, and uncover the mystery. With Je’s help, we could also attempt to cause chaos behind the enemy lines with a few well-placed explosives. Trust us once, and we’ll show you just how effective we are.”

It was a bold claim, and Ishia had realized it before she even began talking. Yet, a success would garauntee autonomy for the Zaran operatives.




Dragonnightwolf -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (12/21/2014 19:02:26)

Thanisgard: Outvoted: Principles of the prime: phase 1 Trevor was less than pleased at being out voted. Having a unit separate might do them some good in the long run if the odds became overwhelming.

He listened patiently to Garin's suggestion to do a full on offensive attack. That might create a problem considering that Thanisgard already lost 6 men and was likely to lose quite a lot more in a frontal affair. Especially with the one unit out of action.

His head lifted up quickly from the map he was looking at when Ytha started to become rude towards the new arrival. He held his own tongue when he saw the commander take charge of the situation. He listened with renewed interest when they described the explosive devices and said with a
warm smile "Well at least we know, if we run into a very big problem, that we'll have some kind of weapon in our defense. Thanisgard has knowledge of constructing catapults. Unfortunately the chief engineer is not in our ranks. His son, however, is. I'll speak to the lad of the possibility of constructing a catapult and what materials we might need. But this is not the time for Thanisgard to pull out. We'll stand with the rest today. The lack of the one unit will be quite enough to already cause us some difficulties."

He again turned his attention towards Ishia and was impressed with her bravery. He waited until she was finished before speaking once more.

He liked the idea.

"That is a very bold claim. I commend you for your bravery." Trevor said with a hint of a smile. "And while you do have my trust, I must inform you that the contingent of Domrius is extremely large. So large in fact that they took out the entire Southlands armies. Which, if you believe the rumors one hears in reports coming from the South, You do well to be concerned."

Trevor thought for a moment rubbing his chin. "Since we are all at. a place where we are coming up with different comments on what we should do. Perhaps we should settle this with a more political outcome. Those who think we should charge into direct battle and attack the enemy. Raise your hands." Trevor waited and counted (if any) the number of hands that went up.

"Those in favor of defending like we did last battle, raise your hands." Trevor again waited and made a count of however many hands went up.

"And those, in favor of taking a chance on Ishia Rinchen of Zara's idea for stealth and chaos, raise your hands." Trevor himself raised his own hand, along with Harry and Thomas. He counted their three, and however many else might vote for the third strategy.

"If there are any more ideas, please come forth with them now and we'll hear them out."

"If we enter a tie, between one strategy and another, I suggest that we flip a coin for the deciding. That would be fair to all, no?"

The time for talking had come to an end. A strategy must be implemented. "In the case that you should need a quick getaway." Trevor said only to Ishia. "Just come find me. We'll loan you a few horses."




Draycos777 -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (12/29/2014 11:18:39)

Ytha stood up and raised her own hand at Trevor's suggestion for a sneak attack. She would see for herself whether or not Ishia was all she made said she was. If she wasn't the she would either die or would be placed as a unit in the Alliance's army and if she was then would be a great help and if she died in one for her missions it would be solely on her. Either way the Kingdom of Je would be better off in the outcome.

Rayna however, didn't see it this way when her sister raised her hand. She nearly choked on her food and forgot that she was in front of other kingdom's men. " Fune tineho Ytha ze unotae!?" Rayna had sat up herself and was staring down at Ytha in disbelief. "Nato retreiray ze Ytha!" Rayna pointed in the direction of Domrius' camp. "Washina bin ze Domrius e hementi!"

"Shin nati, shin nati. Kake, jerbon asislong e vintoma dance!" Ytha replied to Rayna then spoke again, this time in English. "Also we're not alone here. No one can understand if you use Ti'chan."

Slightly blushing, Rayna sat back down in embarrassment. Sighing, Articis spoke up. Hiding his worry, with the smile he always wore, he raised his own hand to the choice of stealth. "If Je and Zara work as a team, then, we might just be able to see what's going on inside Domrius' encampment, which would be invaluable information. Besides I believe it will be good for the two to work with someone else who's training in stealth is different then their own. I trust my daughter to be able to lead a unit inside Domrius' mists."

Articis gestured to Ishia to gain her own attention. "A mission such as this would indeed prove to everyone here whether you're as good as you say. A show of skills to get what you want. A fair trade, is it not? Get as much information from Domrius', return and I'll have no problems in adding my vote to your autonomy; as I'm sure the others will also agree to."

Articis turned to Ytha, who's face was beaming with happiness at her fathers approval to this mission. "Qin hachiti."

Ytha nodded. "I will Papa."

Rayna sat in her chair with a frown that was causing a wrinkle to appear on her forehead. This was dangerously silly, what this two were planing on doing.

Articis addressed the rest of the commanders at the meeting. "Well, that's 3 out of 9 for the stealth mission. What do the rest of you say?"




Zephyrial -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (12/30/2014 12:59:05)

The situation in the command tent had grown more complex by the minute. The arrival of several new delegations had opened up a number of new possibilities for their strategy, although they did not even come close to offsetting the loss of the Varan's numbers. In the end, the room had concocted two possible plans of action: an unexpected offensive attack on Domrius' front lines, or a stealth approach, in which the newly arrived Zara scouts would sneak into the Alquen camp undetected, and wreak havoc. The vote currently stood at three of the nine in favour of the latter, and five undecided , Sayden knew that he would have to vote decisively to defuse the situation. Clearing his throat, he rose - his weakness had now faded, to his relief - and addressed the room, with a pointed look at the commander from Gilrade.

"I pledge my vote in favour of the stealthy approach. To attack all-out at this juncture would be folly, for several reasons. Firstly. attacking without first possessing adequate intelligence on what to expect would be a foolhardy move in any battle, and even more so in this one. The entire might of the Alquen empire has gathered here - who knows what they could have behind their lines? While we are admittedly stronger in offence than defence, that advantage would count for nothing if we are faced with an unexpected move by Domrius. Secondly, the fortifications which the Alquen army has constructed at the mouth of the pass could be far stronger and more intricate than we can possibly tell from our position, and even in the best case scenario will seriously reduce the effectiveness of any sort of cavalry charge. Especially now, with the Varan out of the battle, I doubt we would be capable of overrunning their position.

Finally, the scouts from Zara are the only card we possess that Domrius has not seen in any capacity - the Warsmiths aside, with respect. While it is true that he is probably cognisant of the possibility of an inflitration attempt, it still represents our best possible chance at catching him off-guard. We need to take any opportunity we can. I support the plan for the scouts from Je and Zara to work in tandem; it will give us a greater chance of success, and slow any attempts to repel you. With Je's explosives expertise, you may also have the opportunity to support our own efforts through sabotage. My recommendations - and I do not speak with any particular experience, so excuse me if I speak out of turn - would be to immediately neutralise anything that may cause us trouble on the battlefield - siege engines, for example - but also plant some explosives in a strategic location without activating them. Should we encounter the opportunity to attack ourselves at a later date, the ability to weaken the fortification from the inside would aid our efforts greatly, and the disruption would be more useful then than while we are conducting a defensive strategy.

As for what the main body of our forces will do, I stand by my earlier suggestion. Stay on the defensive, and harry their troops to give the infiltrators more time. The time to strike at Alquen is not yet here, but if we play our cards right today, it could come soon."




Kellehendros -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (1/1/2015 12:51:02)

Enric had, heretofore, preferred to hold his silence during the Alliance’s meetings. Daret’s king had, out of a desire to retain as many soldiers for the royal army as possible, refused to send a contingent to defend the Gripclaw Pass. The Iron Land was a small kingdom, and Enric understood the need for Daret to maintain its strength for the battle against Alquen once the pass was lost.

And the pass would be lost, that much was certain. It was a matter of time and numbers. Domrius no doubt exaggerated the number of men he had, but the Empire was vast, and if he had but half the men he claimed, that was still too much to resist. Enric had left without his king’s blessing, come to the pass on his own behalf to help the doomed defense. He was not certain if the others knew the inevitability of what they did, but they must have an inkling.

In either event, the facts had caused Daret’s commander to be silent during deliberations. He had a small force, and the other commanders, he judged, were too proud to listen to a man with few soldiers in his force, not to mention that he lacked the royal backing of his monarch. Still, he could no longer be silent, staring at Trevor in unfeigned horror. “Flip a coin? Are all Thanisgardian so mad? Would you leave our defense, the lives of our men, and the protection of our families to chance?”


There was tension in the Alliance Camp, even so early in the battle as the second day. It must be understood that, for the Western Kingdoms, this was a marriage of convenience, nothing more. The commanders had come here, whether from their own choice, or at the command of their rulers, in order to accomplish the defense, but for ulterior reasons as well. Some, like Sayden Ka’urn of the Oramus Collective, came to prove themselves, to found their legacy. Others, like Jakaero Corosco of Tinsal, came to protect those they loved from war and death, if only for a little while.

And of course, there was the traitor. We speak of a traitor in the ranks of the Alliance, though it was not, and has never really been, certain to what degree the individual commanders were committed to the cause. Historians have noted references to a certain chest carried by the Confederation of Warsmiths, and pondered vague entries in the journals of soldiers concerning the nocturnal wanderings of Je’s Articis Fon.

At this early point in the battle, before the traitor had made any overt move revealing their presence, there was still a concern that niggled in the backs of the commanders’ minds. What if one of them could not be trusted? What if one of them, seeking to elevate his kingdom above the others, would consent to work with Domrius to break apart the defense before the main Allied armies could be assembled and coordinated?



Enric shook his head. “If the Zaran wish their autonomy from the army, let them have it. A handful of men will make little difference on the field, especially in light of the loss of the Varan heavy infantry for today, whatever Koros’ mad errand might be. Your commands are your own, my lords, and I have no wish to dictate what you should do, unless you should consent to be led.”

“I say this: Let the Zaran and Je scale the mountains and come behind Alquen’s lines. It would be good to see what Domrius prepares for the days to come. I fear, however, that we must prepare to defend as well. Alquen’s forces will advance, no matter what we do. I must speak in favor of Sayden Ka’urn. If our infantry can hold against the pikes, and his men can shield our archers, they can whittle down Domrius’ men, or better, the mages can rain fire upon the pike formations and ruin them utterly.




Dragonnightwolf -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (1/1/2015 14:25:14)

Thanisgard Rally: Compilation of the ghosts that march chapter 1: Trevor "Flip a coin? Are all Thanisgardian so mad? would you leave our defense, the lives of our men, and the protection of our families to chance?" Enric was clearly horrified due to the expression on his face.

But his words struck a chord in Trevor and the Thanisgard commander's temper had finally had enough. "Mad? What is mad here Enric is that we face an army bigger than any I have ever seen in my years of command. For them to have destroyed the entire Southland's Rebellion is no small task. Why don't you tell us Enric? Why are any of these men and women here together? Why are you here yourself? Surely your lands are aware of the dangers this battle holds for us all. We could all die tomorrow or today and why? Because we believe that our kingdom's will stop this madness once and for all. Domrius will fall one day. The question isn't a matter of who gets it done Commander, The question is when it shall become a reality."

Trevor closed a fist tightly and stared at the entire assembly here. "I asked Thanisgard for a leaving rate of 800 troops. I was denied that and given unto my command only 300 because that's all Thanisgard "says" it could spare."

Trevor kept the fist tightly closed.

Thanisgard Rally: Compilation of the ghosts that march chapter 1: Harry "Sir, calm down. You're making-"

Thanisgard Rally: Compilation of the ghosts that march chapter 2: Trevor "Sir, calm down. You're making-" Trevor held up a hand immediately to silence Harry. "I know." Trevor reigned in his temper and took a deep breath. He gave Enric his full attention. "I've learned something from battle Enric. There is always going to be some fate. Some chance that is mixed in with battle. A chance you could die, a chance you will survive. A chance that this victory will accomplish something."

"There is always going to be chance." "We are taking a chance by sending a conglomerate of troops to infiltrate the enemy with the possibility that they succeed, or fail." He gives a positive look over to the infiltration commanders. "But. I have confidence in their abilities."

"Yes Enric. I would willingly risk my men and my life and my families life in a stake of chance. Because regardless of what you might think about this war or about myself, if there is one thing I know with certainty is that we are all very likely to die at this pass. But if we do die, at least it will have given our kingdoms, our families, our leaders, our armies and our alliance time. Precious time in which they can construct defenses that those of us here cannot!"

Trevor looked at the others and withdrew his sword and placed it upon the table. "I have battled alongside my kin and watched them perish. This war has already cost the lives of six of my men. I know this will be the place I perish. But if I die here at this pass. I shall have given my life for the collective whole that is this alliance before my very eyes!"

Trevor put the sword back and stared at Enric. "Sometimes Enric, chance is all there is."

"Ishia, when we are done, I should like to have a very brief word." He looked back at Enric. "I agree. The enemy will advance. We should use long range weaponry. Archers and mages will be our greatest asset here. We have to be ready for whatever comes."





Ronin Of Dreams -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (1/10/2015 17:41:56)

Though numbering only a pair, there was a near palpable escalation of dread emanating from the warsmith representatives. On Constantine’s face it was clearly evident - blood drained away leaving him pale-skinned as his youthful features drew tight. Jakaero channeled it inwards, letting it stoke the fires of anger at all he had witnessed so far about this allegiance of forces. The lack of coordination or a hierarchy of command. Disorganized encampments and a bickering that invited defeat in detail. While others tossed forth ideas and schemes, Jakaero stared at the maps.

Impatience drew Constantine to fill the void of silence left behind by Trevor of Thanisguard’s theatrical defense of the concept of a coin-flip. “S-Sir’s. I must prot-”

“Silence, lad.” Jakaero’s raised hand did more to halt further comment from Constantine than his sharp tongue, but still the elder smith stared at the map. “It strikes me that, with respect, the rest of the infantry units should be able to adequately screen the archers and mages from a charging assault. Losing out on the Varan infantry unit is less than ideal, but not totally crippling.”

After a moment, Jakaero straightened and regarded the assembled once more, with a final nod towards Sayden. “I’m sure the Oramus Collective have often had to manage themselves with supporting forces in the past. Perhaps it would be best for you to organize the micromanagement of the battle, then, and handle counter-charge lanes for what cavalry we have whilst the infiltration commences. Though, on that note, keeping a squad of a few mountaineers back on our portion of the cliffside might be wise. Alquen likely can and will attempt something of similar sorts.”

He bit down on his desire to fully lash out, a not insignificant effort. The roughness to his tone might undercut his words, but he made his efforts to play politics with the assembled. Alquen would grind them to dust for folly all too soon, by the looks of the arrangements thus far. “I’ve already relegated one of my fellow commander artisans to acquire banners from each force, to identify which squad of warsmiths will be responsible for repairs of that force’s arms and armaments. At least those who choose to utilize our efforts, with respect to those who prefer self-maintenance. Meanwhile, if each of you could spare a sergeant...perhaps from your wounded...and send them back to the support line it would be appreciated.”

Subtle lies, as Orric would already be haranguing each force in turn for such a conscriptable volunteer. Forgiveness trumped permission, as the oft paraphrased saying went. “Such a liaison will serve to educate my fellow artisans on idiosyncrasies of your gear as well as instruct our squads on how to emulate your prefered regimented encampment styles.” More lies, but this time for a different purpose. The current line would be doomed to fail sooner than later, and barring the infiltration succeeding beyond all measure, the current encampments would be overrun. The idea of having to build contingencies already settled in with a blooming headache behind Jakaero’s eyes. “Speaking of, any who are too injured to fight can be folded into my support forces, as can lamed horses. Just because neither man nor beast is fit to fight does not mean they cannot serve the defense, but given the...intense predilection of forces present for battle, Constantine and I will gladly help handle the matters of camp if you would rather. After all, with respect it has already been pointed out that we are a support force, not a line unit.”

Turning aside, Jakaero moved to leave the tent, catching Constantine with a nod to follow along. “By your leave, Commanders. I’ve a convoy to deploy, and can be reached easily by messenger.” Only once out of earshot did he finally vent some of his immense frustration in a long hiss of malcontent. “Fools. Some ability among them, but this will be more dire still. A coinflip? Lesson one, Constantine, plan thoroughly and account for failure. Fate may have chance play a role, but never allow it in that early. Now then, you’ve a task.”

There was a hitch in the man from Galvain’s step in shock as Jakaero’s words washed over him like a breath of fire. “A task? One among many, I suspect.”

“Leave the sass for Orric, he does it better and can lie through his teeth to show he isn’t shaken. I want you to go to the Oramus representative once they break council. Do what you can to request any earthmovers.” He watched the royal’s eyes for understanding, but knew the comprehension lacked the refinement of experience. Today, with the convoy spread apart and handling initial tasks, he would leave it to requests. Tomorrow, if they saw a tomorrow, it would be demands.




Kellehendros -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (1/11/2015 18:50:15)

The only conclusion that we can come to is that, for some reasons the Varan forces refrained for joining the combat during the second day of battle in the pass. Historians debate the possible motivations behind the action, suggesting an attempt on Koros’ part to search out an alternative way through the mountains suitable for a large number of troops. In that way, the Varan might come behind the Alquen lines to raid their camp and harass their supply line. Whatever the reason, the Alliance missed the heavy infantry on the line. As fearsome as Kerra Brzerzin’s Kulaki were, their fault had been demonstrated the previous day. Engaging in hand to hand combat is difficult when you cannot reach your opponent. Alquen’s pikes would make that prospect difficult.

The Allies hope for holding the line relied upon the mages of the Oramus Collective…




“Dom, you can’t send pikes up against them. You heard what happened to the Vendreti yesterday. A pike formation only works if it is densely packed, they’ll get slaughtered like cattle up there. Those cursed mages will burn the entire formation to ash.”

“I know, Raph.” Domris stared at the papers in front of him, a slight frown of concentration on his face as he shuffled through field reports from the scouts, occasionally referencing the map in front of him without looking at his adjutant.

“The why in all the gods’ names are you sending them up there?” Rapheel cried out, frustrated as Alquen’s commander continued to contemplate the papers in his hands. “You’re sending them to their deaths. How can you do that?”

“Have you sent the messengers back to Kaurn, as I requested? I need him and his men here, tomorrow if possible, and have the scouts brought any reports back regarding alternative passes through the mountains?”

Rapheel slammed a gauntleted hand down on the table, causing it to rattle and jerk. “Don’t ignore me, Dom! You can’t do this, I won’t let you throw away the lives of my men!”

Domrius looked up, his mismatched eyes narrowing slightly. “Raph, what is your job?”

Taking a half-step back, the armored man glanced to one side. “To relay your commands to the men, and ensure that they are followed.”

“And what is my job?”

Clenching his hands at his sides, Rapheel answered softly. “To command the army.”

“Do not think, not ever think, that I take that responsibility any less seriously than you do.” Domrius stood, bracing himself against the table with one hand. “I have not told you all that I have planned, nor should I have to. I give orders. You follow them. That is all that need be.” His expression softened. “Raph, we’ve been friends for a long time. You should know by now that all you have to do is ask.”

“Then tell me, please. Why?”

“They won’t be marching out there alone, Raph. They’ll have all the protection I can give them. Now, get the message to Kaurn, and send the raiding parties out for the other passes. It will take the closest party a week to get to the trail, much less over the mountains. I don’t intend to be held here that long, but there is no reason not to keep our options open.”



The timber gates of Alquen’s rudimentary log palisade opened to the thundering of war drums. From out of the gates issued ranks and files of Alquen pikemen. Armored in chainmail shirts and vests, the formation relied upon the pikes for defense, along with support from archers. Upon their backs and belts hung small bucklers, and at their waists were an assortment of hand-to-hand weapons. The main armament, however, was the long, fifteen-foot pikes carried by the majority of the men, designed to present a bristling hedge of spear points to shred cavalry and force infantry back. A number of the Alquen soldiers also had halberds and billhooks, weapons designed to counter cavalry by targeting horses or hauling riders from their saddles.

Behind the pike formation came ranks of archers, men in light leather armor carrying longbows and quivers of arrows. Perhaps more ominous was a trio of large wagons that rolled out from the gate after the archers, wagons loaded with bundles and bundles of extra arrows. Behind the large wagons came a small, two horse cart covered with a heavy tarp and trailed by a quartet of figures in long, dark robes.

The Alquen forces deployed themselves, developing into two blocks of pikemen boasting around four hundred men each. A wide and open alley was left between the two blocks, as though to clear a line of fire for the three hundred or so archers who deployed in a line that completed the third side of a box with its open end towards the Alliance. The formation deployed, marching towards the Allied lines in time with the booming of the lambeg drums.




Dragonnightwolf -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (1/12/2015 16:40:43)

Thanisgard: Chapter 2: The March of Hares: Battlephase 2 begins: Trevor Thanisgard's commander stared out at the enemies approach. Pikemen. Pikes that were long, formidable weapons. Further in the back he could see from his vantage point, the wagons. Along with the pikemen came archers with longbows. And towards the very back a very ominous tarped wagon with mysterious robed figures. "I do not like the looks of this." Trevor said to himself gazing out there. "Prepare for battle!" he called out.

There was a look of concern upon his face. He knew what the pikes could do. But he also recognized from previous battles those other weapons. Halberds and biihooks. Trevor signaled in the lines for 2 messenger birds. He wrote on the note "Biihooks. Deadly weapons that will hamper cavalry progress. Pikes will make this a difficult battle. Good luck to us all. Trevor." He signed his name and indicated by command that one note should be delivered to the Oramus Collective commander, and the other should be sent to the commander of the hand-to-hand combat fighters.

Trevor indicated with a wave of his hand for the cavalry to surround the Oramus Collective in a defensive front.

Thanisgard: Chapter 2: The March of Hares: Battlephase 2 begins: Harry Harry could see the look of concern even from here. With Cory out of the battle, only himself, Thomas and the commander were here and ready.
"Archers, to me!" Harry called out. 100 archers came together moving near enough that they could assist the Oramus Collective if need be. Harry made a hand motion and the Archer's knocked arrows to bows. Harry could see the longbows from here. It was going to be a battle and there were going to be losses.

Thanisgard: Chapter 2: The March of Hares: Battlephase 2 begins: ThomasThomas thought he'd seen it all yesterday. But today was deadly serious. A foolish time for the Varan to retreat from battle. But he could see they were in real danger. This was going to be a terrible battle.

Thanisgard: Chapter 2: The March of Hares: Battlephase 2 begins: CoryCory had received word of the request, though he already knew these smiths were present. They'd already come here once in request and he'd told them he would have to check with the commander first. Now he received word about the request by Trevor and he went himself to go talk with the smiths. "What is it you would like to know?" he said simply after telling them who he was and which group he represented.

Thanisgard: Chapter 2: The March of Hares: Battlephase 2, the following: Trevor"Protect the Oramus Collective at all costs!" he ordered gazing at his troops. The pikemen would prove difficult. Long pikes like those were dangerous to his kind of troops. But they'd been in battle with pikemen before so they knew what to expect. The gleaming shield was with him as was his sword. "Enemy advancing!" He called out not just to his troops, but to the rest of the alliance as well. "Formation line, Battle edge six!" Trevor called out to his men, the horsemen moved around the collective carefully in a circular pattern, save for the 100 archers who stayed in position where they were. This was the formation they'd made to battle the pikemen when the battle of L'orange peak had come. True there were losses, but each man had made an excellent advance upon that formation. Trevor hoped this would be the same in lieu of victory.




Zephyrial -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (1/18/2015 19:17:59)

"Looks like... archers, 'bout two hundred fifty. Infantry are all spearmen: pikes, halberds, billhooks. That'll be hell on our cavalry! Couple of supply wagons, and... well, you'd probably better decide what that is."

"Thank you, Captain Grazos," Sayden replied, gently receiving the proffered spyglass. Peering through it, he surveyed the battlefield with an air of dismay, watching as the Alquen forces arranged themselves into a peculiar box formation, trailed by a quartet of wagons - three normal, one not. It was magic, there was no doubt about that - hooded entourage aside, the air around it thrummed with arcane power - but as to the nature of it, Sayden had no idea. If it was a weapon, then it would likely be his responsibility to defend against it.

"Captain. If you would, please send any of your men equipped with projectile weapons to join the archers. We will need every bowstring we have for this battle. And- dispatch one man of good character to meet with these Warsmiths. Best we know what they are up to." Tactfully ignoring the 'good character' comment, the Captain gave a bow before striding off towards his men, barking orders with a smile. Sayden turned back towards the battlefield, trying to rationalise the trials that lay ahead.

Yesterday's battle was nothing compared to this... Can I do this?

Although his outward exterior was calm and composed, a whirlwind of doubt raged within. Against his wishes, the War Council had declared him to be the day's Supreme Commander, responsible for all their fates. Although he was confident in his strategic handle on the situation, the responsibility still weighed heavily upon him. He had led his own men in battle many a time, yes... even handled those rabble masquerading as Sentinels... But an entire army? Composed of many and varied parts, most bearing some sort of hatred towards another (and all towards him), and none agreeing entirely on strategy? Perhaps the great commanders of legend could keep control of such a volatile situation. But he was just a mage, a scholar- would they listen to him? The challenge that confronted him seemed insurmountable...

The challenge began before the Alquen forces had even taken a step. Without allowing so much as a minute for Sayden to assess the situation, the commander from Thanisgard - Trevor - had sprung into action, ordering around his big hulking cavalry unit with no regard for any of the other components of the Alliance army. Sayden watched, dumbfounded, as his men organised into some sort of bizarre ring formation. Has he no sense at all? My mages are tasked to defend the archers, not the other way around! And with those blasted cavalry in the way, none of our ranged forces can see a thing! His confusion turned to fury as a bright-eyed messenger lumbered up, passing him a note from the offending commander. Seizing it, Sayden cast it a cursory glance - meaningless platitudes, and tactical information that any half-competent commander would have learned in his first day at school - before casting it to the floor. The messenger held out his hand expectantly, waiting for a reply... instead he received only a rebuke, sending him scurrying away, tail between his legs.

"Return to your fool master. I am my own messenger."

That man will learn his place.



With a deep breath, Sayden focused his energies. Although he had made battlemagic his true calling some time ago, he had still become a mage of some stature in the ordinary disciplines, and few arcane arts were out of his reach. He began to whirl his arms - slowly at first, but quickly rising to a crescendo - as if he were weaving a gigantic basket. Eventually, a shimmering disc of pure mana hung in front of him, and stepping onto it, he was carried skywards until he could view the entire battlefield. Then, touching is fingertips gently to his throat, he amplified his voice until it rang off the sides of the canyon like a peal of thunder - although not quite loud enough that the Alquen forces could discern his words. Finally, he exercised one last power. Groaning, he gathered his focus... then lunged mentally, wielding his thoughts like a weapon, and penetrating the mind of the Thanisgard commander directly. Like an edict from the Gods, his thoughts tumbled irrepressibly into the other man's head.

Trevor Arcturus Minx, of Thanisgard! Know your place! Remember who is the Supreme Commander - I will give my orders, and only then will you give yours! Am I understood? Dissolve your formations!

After delivering his rebuke, he withdrew, satisfied. The experience would no doubt have been alarming for the soldier, even a little painful... Hopefully it got his message across. He would almost certainly pay for it sometime in the future - but as it stood, winning this battle was all that mattered.



Now, he prepared to mould the battlefield to meet his expectations. Stretching his empowered vocal cords, he addressed the entire army with one voice.

"Archers! Of Gilrade, Thanisgard, and the Collective! Assemble before the mages, in ranks two deep. They will protect you from enemy projectiles, so fear not! When your commanders determine that the enemy is within range... loose! And do not stop until not a single arrow remains on the battlefield."

"Infantry! Of Je, Kulak, Daret, and Gilrade! Form flanks to either side of the mages and archers, at your commanders' discretion! When I give the signal, to indicate that the enemy has advanced too far towards us, proceed to the front of the formation, via the flanks, and rank up in front of the archers. Any of you equipped with shields, form the front line, and protect your comrades! Do. Not. Give. An. Inch!"

"Cavalry! Of Thanisgard, and Gilrade! belay any previous orders. Form ranks at the rear of the formation, and once the signal is given, follow the infantry up the flanks until they have carried out their orders, and form the new flanks! To attack such an enemy head on would be foolhardy - hold back until their formation has been disrupted by our archers, and then, proceed to tear their lines apart!"

"All commanders! The odds against us are great - we lack the appropriate troops to counter the Alquen formations. As such, our victory will hinge upon your skill and authority! if we are to succeed here today, our movements must be exact, immediate, and without complications. I am relying on you to see that it is so. Good luck!"

Finally, he rekindled the mental link among his own forces, and addressed them directly.

Divisions One and Two, form a rank and prepare to protect our allies. Divisions Three and Four, hang back and prepare to rotate with the active divisions if the shield begins to falter. Division Five, remain in reserve... We may need to react quickly to whatever is in that wagon. Are you prepared?

Let none pass.


Following his orders like clockwork, the mages ranged themselves into the desired formation. Those ten who remained at the front raised their hands... and a glimmering veil rose up from the ground before them. Approximately twelve feet high, it curved gently back towards the Alliance army, forming a roof which would protect the front lines from all but the most prodigious bowshots. Just enough space remained for the archers to organise themselves as commanded, which would hopefully remove any confusion regarding his intent. The shield was not a taxing spell, consuming energy only when it was struck... and with the four divisions in rotation, it seemed likely that they could maintain the shield for the entirety of the battle.



Orders given, Sayden remained in the air, surveying the army's progress. Positioned as he was, he was protected by the shield - and by remaining a seemingly vulnerable target, he hoped to draw some of the enemy's fire. Anxiety gnawed at his stomach as he waited to see if his orders would be heeded... If yesterday's battle was any indication, the component forces of the Alliance much preferred to fight alone, making decisions independent of any higher authority. But that was not Sayden's style. Random collaboration may have worked on the barbarians from yesterday, but against disciplined, skilled Alquen regulars, it would not suffice. Particularly now, with the stakes so high; although he may come under fire from the other commanders, he was prepared to shoulder the blame, if it meant that the Alliance army lasted another day.




Dragonnightwolf -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (1/18/2015 22:41:43)

Thanisgard:The Dragons Roar: Chapter 3: Trevor Like the rising of the sun, the gaining of the moon, so too did Sayden of the Oramus Collective rise into the air. Trevor turned his head to look upwards. The line had just finished completion of the Cantabrian Circle when the darkness upon his thoughts fell to silence, when his own thoughts of battle strategy were muted by the sheer power and supernatural actions of Sayden. His voice echoed into the cavity reaches of the mind, shaking Trevor into alertness and pain so strong and deep it was as if the collective man had broken into Trevor's mind without his permission. Trevor was no stranger to magic, nor was he stranger to having an odd vision here or there. But this! THIS! was a violation to the commander's well being and mentality. To pull a stunt like this in the midst of battle?!

"Trevor Arcturus Minx, of Thanisgard! Know your place! Remember who is the Supreme Commander - I will give my orders, and only then will you give yours! Am I understood? Dissolve your formations!"

Trevor's horse feeling the sudden supernatural presence bucked and Trevor flew right off the horse's back landing on the ground and standing up quickly to put his hand to his face. The horse was still spooked but Trevor was furious. Trevor closed a fist tightly across his sword hilt and stared at the ground. The emotion within him was that of rage. First Enric questioned his thoughts on the subject of Chance and Luck, Now the Oramus Collective's own commander dared to pull a stunt like this upon him.

His voice was a whisper, too low to be caught and there was blood coming out of his nose from the magnitude of the onslaught the voice had caused to him. The sheer pain of it was bad enough. "Sayden." His other hand pulled away the blood from his nose. "You will pay for your actions today. You will pay very, very, very dearly. On my sword I swear it. Not now. But soon you shall fall."

Trevor's nose stopped bleeding after he steadied himself and got back on his horse. "Harry, Thomas, Dismiss the lines to His specifications. That's an order. Go to it!"

Thanisgard:The Dragons Roar: Chapter 3: Harry Harry was once more in charge of the archer's. The order for a Cantabrian Circle was issued and the archer's had set themselves up. Harry saw Trevor's horse buck from his position but couldn't figure out why that had happened. The sub commander gazed upwards to see one of the Oramus Collective floating above the alliance.

"Archers! Of Gilrade, Thanisgard, and the Collective! Assemble before the mages, in ranks two deep. They will protect you from enemy projectiles, so fear not! When your commanders determine that the enemy is within range... loose! And do not stop until not a single arrow remains on the battlefield."


Harry looked over at Trevor who had something wrong with his nose. "Harry, Thomas, Dismiss the lines to His specifications. That's an order. Go to it!" Harry frowned. Something was wrong with this man that he'd gone to battle with on many occasions. Something was terribly, terribly, wrong. Almost as if something unseen had occurred. Perhaps it was stress.

"All right men, you heard em. To positions!" Harry and the archer's moved into line in front of the mages, the horses snorting quietly and stamping their hooves. Bowstrings pulled taunt and awaited the order. Harry himself pulled up his own bow and aimed the first knocked arrow into it's wooden resting place.

Thanisgard:The Dragons Roar: Chapter 3: Thomas Thomas

It had already been bloody. Now they faced spearmen with biihooks. Thomas hadn't seen Trevor fall nor did he notice the nose. He merely heard the order and gave a signal for the troops to fall out of their original planned position.

"Cavalry! Of Thanisgard, and Gilrade! belay any previous orders. Form ranks at the rear of the formation, and once the signal is given, follow the infantry up the flanks until they have carried out their orders, and form the new flanks! To attack such an enemy head on would be foolhardy - hold back until their formation has been disrupted by our archers, and then, proceed to tear their lines apart!"

Thomas had already heard Trevor's order. Now he heard this one as well. "You heard the man, Fall back to the rear!"

Thanisgard:The Dragons Roar: Chapter 4: Trevor Trevor gave one quick measured look up at Sayden when he was talking to all the commanders. As he brought his head back to level he raised his hand to give the order to fall back. "Fall back positions!" Trevor ordered. He lead his group of men in company A to the rear and gave a quick glare at Sayden before returning his attention to the battle. "You will pay for what you did to me, Sayden." Trevor said once more under his breath. He was not pleased at all.




TJByrum -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (1/20/2015 19:15:31)

It was a long and tiring journey heading back up the ragged mountain path to reenter Gripclaw Pass, but Volrun and his band of hunters eventually entered the passageway. In tow they had two of their supply carts rigged to act as temporary holding cages for the wild hogs they had managed to round up. They were troublesome, messy, and noisy, but there purpose would be served one way or the other. As he trudged his way into the camp of the allied forces he began to notice something most peculiar: everyone but the Varan were gone. He could here chatter coming from their camp, and beyond that the faint sound of war cries.

Volrun began to lightly jog into the camp to examine the situation. He was right: the bulk of the Varan force was not deployed, and anyone missing had been with him on his hog hunt. He caught sight of a displeased Aesa exiting her personal sent and dashed over to her. Before even stopping, the concerned warrior asked "Aesa, why did Koros not deploy our forces? What's going on here?"

Aesa was a bit taken by surprise by the sudden rush of the warrior but responded nonetheless. "I'm not sure. Worun simply told us we were not to fight today."

"Wha..." Why on earth would Koros not deploy the Varan? Feelings of anger, confusion, and curiosity filled him, so he brushed Aesa to the side and made his way to Koros' tent. He burst inside, swinging the cloth door aside and spotted a half-woken Koros lazily leaned back in his chair. His Thanes stood around him in their stoic ways. "Koros, why are we not deployed? Why did the allies not come for us?"

"Huh... what?" Koros jumped up with a new-found demeanor, looking around in confusion before finally realizing the intrusion of his former adviser. "Volrun? You're back? I had thought you wouldn't return after the dishonor you brought on your family."

"I've brought dishonor to no one - you have. By not deploying our brothers we lose our honor! Our allies are dying out there and you're half asleep. Where's the honor in that?"

Koros, despite his lame leg, quickly jumped out of his chair, baring his full height and stocky build throughout the tent and howling back at Volrun. "Do not pretend those... men are our equals! They're naught but women in armor! They're not Varan, and so they are not our brothers. They're fodder... we should throw them at the enemy to soften their ranks... like peasants. Besides, today is an ill day to fight. I saw three eagles soar in the skies of my dream, shot down by a single arrow! This is an obvious sign from the Gods that this day does not bode well for us."

Volrun was in the right mindset to draw his blade then and hack the old man's head off. "Fool," he began, "you can't rely on 'dreams' to win this way. This isn't Asgeir, these aren't Varan you're facing! I'll ready the troops and provide reinforcements for our allies."

"You'll do no such thing," Koros barked. "Thanes! Arrest this man! He shall be executed in front of the whole of the allied forces to show that their is no place for treason within Varan ranks!

Without hesitation the Thanes unsheathed their blades. "I'm sorry," Worun said, "but it is our duty. Come quietly, and I promise you a quick execution." It didn't what the Thanes thought; they had sworn an oath to protect Koros and heed his every command. It was something that Volrun understood. But it was something he chose to fight. Koros was a man of tradition, if a bit misplaced. There would be no way he could deny a duel.

Volrun drew his sword from its sheath and entered a combat-ready stance. "No! I, Volrun Valgard, challenge you: Koros Jarn of Asgeir, to a duel of death!"




Draycos777 -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (1/20/2015 21:48:07)

Sometime before the battle

Articis entered the tent of is old friend, Hyden. It smelt strongly of incense and made him feel nostalgic about home. In the middle of the tent sat his friend working on a candle with gloved hands. He wore a similar outfit to Ytha, but his was completely black and his head was also covered so that you could only see his eyes. He and Articis had fought side by side in Je's civil war and had become good friends this way, though Hyden was much older then Articis.

"You needed me old friend?" Articis spoke as he entered to gain the hidden weapon master's attention.

"Ah, Articis. Yes I call for you." Hyden never looked up as he continued to form the candle. "Yes, I came across something interesting while walking in the forest around camp. You've seen those before haven't you." Hyden gestured to a pile of fern-like plants cast off to the side. Articis recognized it immediately.

"Is that...'The Land's Grief'? Ha, you did come across something interesting after all." The Land's Grief was a plant widely know throughout Je for the fact that it produces paralyzing nerotoxins when it is burned. Which has caused people to die in forest fires, breathing in the smoke and collapsing to be consumed by the flames.

Articis folded his arms as he looked at the completed candles standing next to Hyden.

“Three, nine, fourteen...these would indeed be useful.”

“Old friend...can I ask a favor of you?”

Hyden stopped his molding and finally looked up to face the commander of Je. “For you to be asking a favor of me. Out of all the years I've known you, there was only one time that you've ever asked anything from me; and that was 12 years ago. If I'm correct, then this time is for a similar reason, no?”

“You're right, I want you to join Ytha's infiltration unit and make sure things run smoothly.” Articis sighed, then a slight smirk appeared on his face. “Besides, getting an on-field lesson from her master might help the girl a bit.”

“I see, very well.” Hyden rose from his sited position, picking up the unfinished candle and placing it on a small rudimentary stone workbench, he then walked over to a bag that was laying on his bed and pulled out some needles. “I shall make preparations before we head out then.”

“I'll leave you to it then, thank you.” Articis bowed before he headed out of the tent.”



Sayden's voice carried across the waiting soldiers, their leader's plans for defense moving along with it.

"Infantry! Of Je, Kulak, Daret, and Gilrade! Form flanks to either side of the mages and archers, at your commanders' discretion! When I give the signal, to indicate that the enemy has advanced too far towards us, proceed to the front of the formation, via the flanks, and rank up in front of the archers. Any of you equipped with shields, form the front line, and protect your comrades! Do. Not. Give. An. Inch!" 

Finally, it was time to move. Articis and Rayna took position in the right flank and prepared for Sayden's signal to advance to the front. Rayna's grip on her swords was tense and he palm started to sweat from the friction's heat.

“Don't worry, she'll be fine.”

Rayna's grip loosed after hearing Articis' voice and she looked upwards to see her Papa's classy goofy grin.

“After all, Hyden is with her.”

“Yeah...” Her Papa was right, for now, the only thing she should be worrying about were the enemies in front of her. Her mind, while still worrying about Ytha's safety, was calming down. Rayna's grip once again took it's normal state, and she waited for the orders to move.

“Stay safe Ytha.”

Articis looked once towards the forest of the pass and then you the enemies he would soon crush.

“Stay safe, my daughter.”




Near the edge of the forest, Ytha waited for the Zara women to show up.

“Tsk, she was the one who suggested the scouting mission in the first place...to be the second one to show up.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Ytha spotted a unit approach led by a young girl. She turned to face them, as one of her men that was holding two bags of small and medium sized bombs handed one of the bags over to the girl.

“So slow, I take it you can't walk with the wind huh? I hope you'll be able to keep up then. Ready to move out yet, or should I wait on you some more?”




Bastet -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (1/21/2015 10:09:57)

The girl from Zara was glad that the supreme commander elected was one of those who supported the idea of an attempt at covert tactics. Those who valuied tactics had won over those whose brain was in their sword arm. She didn't wait in the tent after her autonomy was approved; details about the conventional battlefield were best left to those who would fight there.

Ishia clenched in her hands the whistle she had received from Trevor. He had confidentially told her that it would summon the closest Thanisgardian steed, though the infiltrator doubted it would come to any use for her. What good would a horse be on rocky terrain that normal troops couldn't traverse?

If only I didn't have to stick with those pretentious would-be infiltrators from Je.... They probably couldn't get into Domrius' camp without blowing themselves up with their own explosive contraptions.

She headed towards her camp, looking to inform her troops as to how the day would've been played out by the Alliance. At her command, the Zarans would've used whatever free time they had left to plan ahead and check their equipment. In her own mind, Ishia was also planning an escape route from the Alliance's defeat, which she felt was inevitable. The tricky part is that she also would've had to find a way to garauntee her country's safety.




The noise of the mysterious man working in his workshop-tent blended in the background with the sound of the Alliance's troops organizing themselves for battle. Even from the remote spot the Zaran camp was set up in, the masses of soldiers moving around their equipment were clearly audible. Ishia was one to respect quiet, but noise was also fundamental to sneaking, as long as it was used properly.
She cleared her throat and spoke clearly to those reunited around her. During the travel to Gripclaw Pass, she had had more than enough time to get acquainted with those she'd lead. Even though Zara was quite small, contact between regions had been interrupted by the civil war. Ishia's soldiers were from wildly varying spots of the country, but the man had no problem finding those who he judged to be the most talented. He was strange, sometimes even suspicious, but without him Zara would still be under a tyrant's rule.

“We must not be careless on our first visit to Domrius' camp. Our objective is to find the best paths through the mountain side to the war camp, and carry out reconnaisance. A few troops from Je will join us in our endeavour, possibly offering us explosive devices to sabotage Domrius' efforts, but don't let them too close to us. At worst, they could turn this whole mission into a disaster. We don't know what to expect, but Domrius will probably be aware that some of us may attempt unconventional ways to his camp. A secondary objective is to also secure a few disguises that may facilitate our approach. These will be also important later on, bring any you can find back to our camp if it doesn’t risk compromising the mission.
Any further instructions I’ll give on the spot. Make sure your equipment is ready, and be back here in five minutes.”

The other infiltrators silently nodded and momentarily dispersed in the camp as Ishia pulled up her armor’s hood. She didn’t need to be recognized as the Zaran commander by any but her soldiers, who had ways of doing that without needing to see her face.

Ishia was sure that the man who came with her already knew everything he needed to, and so she simply went to collect her weapons for the mission. Crossbow, swordbreaker and sabre were all secured to their respective spots. Her armor suit also had built-in pockets that contained a fair few spare crossbow bolts. A mimetic cape painted with the colours of the rocky pass covered her back.

Not long after, she found her soldiers reunited and guided them to the meeting spot with Je.

It wasn’t long until they found the girl who had spoken against her, and she didn’t lose the occasion to taunt her. When she spoke, however, it was but a confirmation of the quality of the Zaran armor. Ishia wasn’t leading her group from the front, rather closer to the center of the formation. One of the men from the other group handed the infiltrator that had been mistaken for her a bag of bombs.

“So slow, I take it you can't walk with the wind huh? I hope you'll be able to keep up then. Ready to move out yet, or should I wait on you some more?”

Ishia had had enough of the girl’s mistakes, and stepped forward. Her escort opened around her as she walked to the front, still not taking down her hood. She stopped close to the girl, and spoke. As she also was wearing a mask, her voice came out slightly distorted.

“I am Ishia. Thank you for confirming that it isn’t all that easy to tell between my individual soldiers when we are armor-clad.”

She turned to her own soldiers for a second, giving out the first orders of the mission.

“Kouras, keep carrying the bombs. Everyone else, crossbows. Watch for possible targets, communicate with signs unless necessary.”

Ishia knew that her commands were but a regular routine for the soldiers, who had especially been trained for this kind of situations. She turned back to Ytha, grinning under her mask.

“We are ready.”




Ronin Of Dreams -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (1/28/2015 10:56:54)

The smiths had unloaded from their supply carts by the time Cory had arrived, but that in no means meant that they had broken down into organized outcroppings. Instead they had broken into squads which were bickering good-naturedly over which anvils, hammers, stock, and bench blocks each set would be using. Closest to the approaching member of the Thanisgard contingent was perhaps the most eccentric of pairings. A stocky smith with long hair and one arm was giving instructions to a much larger, bald and beefy man. "No, no, no Danny-Boy. I said to put the anvil over towards the sheer cliff more. We gonna be needin the shielding from as much wind as possible, just the two of us."

The bald man, somewhat slow and slurring, looked over at the stockier smith for a bit before nodding in comprehension. "Yessir. Danny be a good boy." Then, rather than complying with the stockier smith, he stared over at the approaching Cory. whom they listened to the with calm expressions. Though, from the look on Danny’s face, the calmness was from a total lack of bothersome comprehension.

"What is it you would like to know?"

The stocky gentleman turned on his heel, unkempt hair flying about for a moment. "Well, well, well. Lookit here, Danny-Boy. One of the grand members of this alliance beat our headmen back from their pow-wow. Oh don't be minding our manners or old Danny-Boy here, he's a touch slow after being clubbed in the head a few years past. Me? Sword chop cleaved into the shoulder right good, had to have the whole thing taken off by some nutter chirurgeon or die of gangrene. Easy choice really, but between the two of us, you won't find faster weavers of mail or a stronger pair of arms when hammering out plate to forms.

But I digress, I do I do. Name’s Harsen. Since ya be beaten the bosses back on over here, I suppose what we need is simple really. A horseman like yourself probably has some...oh whaddya call em...some ek-sen-trick-ities to how yer wanting yer barding done for your horses. Shoes, too, I suspect, not to mention what arms and armor you drop off to be repaired. Not everyone has the same styles, if its all the same to you, bloke. Ya just be tellin’ us wot we be needin’ ta do special like for you and yers.”




How by a bull’s backside am I to interrupt mages? Especially when the battle is being conducted surrounding them?! Staying aloof riled Constantine, and though he had no desire to engage in combat, he was not at all used to the notion of inaction. While not raised according to his distant noble lineage, it left him sitting almost in a regal pose atop his horse. As if the nature of haughty, prideful posing had been distilled through the blood in contrast of his humble, artisanal upbringing. Still, inaction wouldn’t be too horrible, all things considered. Sayden had a style of command that differed from Jakaero, and observing such stylistic differences would at least prove a lesson in and of itself. A lesson best learned from a respectful distance to the rear, given the mages’ central role in the conflict of the day.




One of the key benefits of age is the excruciatingly ingrained lesson of enjoying every moment of relaxation given to a man. While everyone else at the camps ran about, Jakaero merely kicked back and rested his weary bones against a chest to doze for a few moments. There was no harm in it, nor was it likely that rest would be easily gotten once everything started to come together for the contingent of warsmiths. As it was, not a quarter of an hour had passed before he felt booted feet prodding his knees. “Oy, ya go an’ get me ta run yer errands for ya just ta catch a catnap? Ungrateful lout in charge, I tell ya.”

Jakaero opened an eye and grinned up towards Orric. “You would have done the same, you know, while Constantine and I were stuck in that tent” A comment to which Orric broke out in a grin of wry amusement.. “ What have you managed to scrounge up?”

“Eh. A few scraps of old banners from some of the bigger groups. Apparently the Thanisgard group already had one set aside by the time I got there, but I couldn’t make any other headway. Sent someone over already, they claimed. Slim pickin’s elsewhere. Saw the kid being sent over to that magic mystic hubbub of a group, so I took that as a cue to keep my rough-hewn habits outta their business…”

“Much obliged for you noticing and providing that small favor,” came a musing interjection from Jakaero, who began to get to his feet while Orric hit full stride.

“...and I didn’t much bother with the groups smaller than ourselves. Guessing they have special gear or special needs, so they’ll come to us directly like, I suspect.” Orric began to scratch one side of his nose, not quite pausing. “Mmm. If’n ya ask me, though, something fishy be up over at the Varan group. They don’t much seem to be gearing up for battle. Odd group, them, even if they don’t set my hair on end like the caster crew. Another one where I kept my distance rather than poking around for signalling gear.”

The pair of them vaulted up onto their horses as Orric’s report settled in on Jakaero’s mind, bringing it back up to a fevered pace of thought. They had gotten past the bulk of the encampments before Jakaero broke the silence of his mental machinations. “Not ideal, I suppose. Nice discovery of something amiss in the Varan camp, but it was revealed in the command pavilion that they wouldn’t be fighting today. A tough blow to the defense, but we hardly got here soon enough to matter and vote towards tactics of today.”

“Och, well, that’s great now isn’t it?”

“Great for our opposite number. This lot is poorly led at the command echelon. No sense of unity, and mostly the wrong units sent here for the defense. I have to wonder if the other kingdoms didn’t just send malcontents to bleed and die away from home soil, being prideful in their own defenses on their own lands. A mistake, but one we must work with.”

“Well. Hmph.” Orric spat off the opposite side of his mount. “Reckon’ the boys won’t be liking who they get assigned then?”

“Oh, they will manage. You, however, will not be holding a hammer to anvil tonight, though.”

“Like Death, you say!”

“No, now listen Orric. Listen carefully. You need to go and help Nay, I have a few ideas that I will sketch down for you. We have neither the time, the manpower, nor the materials to do a third as much as the Alquen forces have managed in a single night. But we have needs, and Nay is a layman for all his swordplay. Tonight we build with experience at the fore, then tomorrow I will let you up front to observe at the front.”

The grin on Orric’s face that blossomed at the promise of action was feral, but didn’t frighten the likes of Jakaero. The latter man was too used to it, having worked in the field with Orric so many years ago. “And if’n a peacock shows its feathers, assuming range and conditions?”

“Well, then perhaps a bolt loosed might let Alquen know we smiths are not without our own teeth.”




Kellehendros -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (1/28/2015 22:19:38)

Alquen’s forces marched forward, holding to their formation steadily, marching into bow range, where the entire formation halted. The archers shook out into a three-line formation, waiting and staring across the field towards the Alliance soldiers. A captain shouted, and the archers moved in drilled unison, reaching over their shoulders to draw their first arrow and fit it to the string. Another command caused the bows the ripple up, arrows drawn and ready, the archers holding the draws without apparent effort.



Macen was at the eastern edge of the Empire. The Alliance commanders could be forgiven for not knowing what it was that they were facing as the burning sun climbed into the sky on the hot morning of the second day of battle.

Macenites, it was said, were born archers, and they had waged a war of attrition against the fledgeling Alquen Empire for decades before succumbing to superior manpower and resources. By dint of the treaty of surrender, the Emperor could call upon the famed First Levy, storied bowmen who had made the forests of Macen a place few soldiers of the Empire would willingly travel.

Research on the subject amply proves that the Alliance was not faced with the First Levy, but the bowmen of Macen were all rigorously trained from the day they could first hold a bow, and it is doubtful that any member of the Alliance had seen a Macenite arrowstorm before.




The opposing armies glared at each other, the Gripclaw Pass resounding to the heavy bass throbbing of Alquen’s mighty wardrums. The beat thundered to a crashing crescendo that echoed and rebounded through the stony vale. For a crystalline moment the pass was silent as the echoes died away.

It could not last. “Loose!” screamed a captain in the ranks of archers, and with a rapid whup, whup, whup the Macenites released, three hundred shafts leaping from taut strings and sailing skyward. Nock, draw, loose. The archers’ hands flashed back from the release, drawing another arrow, nocking and firing, blindingly fast. Nock, draw, loose. The first set of arrows whistled over the tops of their arcs, starting to descend as the second volley buzzed into the air like angered hornets; the archers had their third arrow on the string.

Three hundred arrows, then six, then nine, a cloud of oaken cloth yard shafts whistled towards the line of Allied infantry and archers. It would quickly be obvious to the Allied commanders what the purpose of the three large wagons behind Alquen’s line was. The wagons were stacked with bundles and bundles of arrows. Domrius seemed to intend to drown the Allies in a tide of oak and arrowheads.



Of course, Domrius did not send his men into the pass that day without protection. He had witnessed the devastation wrought on his forces by the mages of the Oramus Collective, and thus had sent a suitable counter into the pass: the Urn of the Unbelievers.

While the artifact, sadly, has since been lost to the pages of history, several credible descriptions of it have survived. Crafted from beaten silver, the Urn showed great age, presenting a ramshackle and tarnished visage. Closer inspection would show the carefully inscribed runework of some civilization long dead, giving the artifact a faintly sinister air more imposing that its hip-high stature and wide maw would normally invoke. Reports vary wildly, of course, but an unbiased evaluation of the evidence allows us to disregard the more outlandish theories of what the Urn could do.

It is safe to assert that the Urn, or whatever it contained, was inimical to magical energies. When opened, the Urn drew in mana from the surrounding area, draining it hungrily away, unsated by any amount of energy it could absorb. No doubt when the Urn was uncovered by Domrius’ soldiers Sayden Ka’urn was immediately aware of its presence. The effect would have been subtle at first, like the tiny ripples that disturb the water’s surface when a drain opens. Yet, like a whirlpool, the draining effect would grow, swirling and funneling more and more of the area’s available mana into the Urn, wearing away the energy sustaining any magical constructs or ongoing enchantments in the area, and making it harder and harder to cast spells.




The combined force of Zara and Je scouts moved out, climbing the shoulders of the mountains to ascend the Gripclaw Pass’ walls. Skirting the ridges the looked over the battlefield below, they began to make their way towards the Alquen encampment, hoping to see what Domrius might be holding in reserve at the base of the mountains.




Page: <<   < prev  1 [2] 3 4 5   next >   >>

Valid CSS!




Forum Software © ASPPlayground.NET Advanced Edition
0.25